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nightwingsgypsyrep · 3 days ago

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Ok so I’ve been umming and ahhing about making this post for a while. I’ve always kinda planned on it, but seeing these tags on a previous post of mine (no hate to this user) made me want to post something now. It’s also gone 3am. So it’s not really going to be very clean and tidy, and will probably be a bit rambling, but I can always post a ‘tidy’ version another time.

So! Tackling Dick Grayson’s Romani/GRTSB heritage (warning: it’s a long one)

So, as usual, a few disclaimers: 1) I am not American. 2) I myself fall under the GRTSB umbrella - for clarity, I am from the fairground/circus so a Showman, but my family were simply ‘gypsies’ before getting involved in that in the Victorian period, so I use gypsy/traveller/Showman for myself. I also speak Romani and grew up in the culture and on the grounds. I’m not just talking out of my arse, I promise. 3) I do not pretend to have read every comic. However, this post will be based in things which DC have published (yeah I know it gets retconned every two minutes but hey, I’m working with it), even if some of it is more speculative/Headcanony, it will all be canon-compliant/what makes sense based on my own experiences. 4) That being said, everyone who does in some way fall under the GRTSB acronym will have different experiences and opinions, and all are equally valid and should be respected. 5) I use the term ‘gypsy’ a lot. Where I am from, it is not a slur, but is used almost a catch-all phrase for GRTSB people, by us. We also see Dick use it so I’m going to. I personally don’t mind if people use it (so long as they don’t use it as an insult) but not everyone will feel that way, so it’s always better to ask individuals. 6) this post is intended as a fun exploration of a character whom I relate to based on our shared heritage (when it’s really rare to find characters like that). I’m not trying to dictate to you how you should interpret Dick’s character. You’re welcome to different opinions and interpretations - this is just one of mine! :)

So, first, what is GRTSB? Well, it’s an acronym which covers all aspects of the gypsy/traveller umbrella. It is used in British legislation. It stands for Gypsy Romani Traveller Showman (aka fairground and circus) Boater. Under British legislation, only the first three (Gypsies, Romani, and Travellers) are considered an ethnic identity, whilst Showmen and Boaters are considered a cultural identity.

This is absolutely FULL of problems and has been hotly debated for years, with different people identifying in different ways. People who share the same/very similar ethnic heritage (i.e. siblings, or cousins) can have completely different points of view on what they identify as. As such, don’t take it as gospel - it’s more of a guideline than anything. Especially since a) these groups often intermarry, meaning that someone can be multiple at once; b) if a Showman stops travelling with the fair and settles, they don’t become a non-traveller, because it’s in your blood, not just a job; c) people can trace their heritage back past a particular group - e.g. my own family (circus and fairgrounds aka Showmen) can be traced back to at least the 1600s, before fairs were really a thing - at the time, they simply identified as gypsies. They didn’t stop being gypsies just because they changed their job/founded a circus/fairground. As such, many in my family identify primarily as a gypsy or traveller, and a Showman secondarily, whilst others do the opposite, or identify as just a Showman or just a traveller/gypsy. Like I say, this classification is not perfect, and is hotly debated, especially at the present time.

So, now, onto the subject of Dick Grayson. I included the tags above mostly because of the ‘tell me you don’t know a character without telling me you don’t know a character’, because, firstly, rude. secondly, the poster makes reference to the Golden Age. And yeah, obviously DC aren’t going to make reference to Dick being a gypsy in the Golden Age - do you really expect writers in the 40s to care enough about the nuances of a character’s ethnic heritage, especially a gypsy, at a time when it was still common even in countries like England (where legal segregation wasn’t a thing) to have signs on pubs like ‘no blacks, no Irish, no dogs, no gypsies’ - btw we still get those occasionally? However, if we look at the comics which have been published in the eighty five years since Dick’s debut, we see a lot of references to Dick having Romani/GRTSB heritage. Again, I’m not well read, but in Grayson’s run, at least, we do see Dick speaking Romani and self-identifying as a gypsy (Nightwing #91 btw). So I’m sorry but it is definitely canon that Dick has at least some Romani heritage (since Romani, by culture, is not taught to non-travellers on purpose, and is thus only passed down from parent to child. Hell, even some of my cousins who are half gypsy - Diddakois - don’t know the language!), and the fact that he speaks it and IDs as a gypsy does suggest that this is something important to him and his character. I know that being a gypsy is certainly a big thing to me (with how the world treats us, you have to be proud of it and have it be important to you to make it worth it).

So now we come onto the second part of my rant: wtf is going on with Haly’s Circus.

So, an important bit of context is, what makes a gypsy a gypsy? And the answer to that, in my opinion, is a mix between culture and blood. You can’t be a gypsy (unless in circumstances like adoption) unless you have both. What I mean by that is, if you’ve got one gypsy great great great grandparent, but weren’t bought up with the culture and morals, you have gypsy heritage but are not a gypsy. However, if you are a gypsy and you decide to settle down in a house, work in an office, and never speak Romani again, you are still a gypsy. Similarly, if you suddenly decide to take on the gypsy lifestyle (maybe work on the fairgrounds or in the circus, or go travelling like the New Age lot), you are not a gypsy, because it’s not in your blood - hence why it’s an ethnicity, not a cultural thing really. As such, it is common for there to be a us vs them mentality even with those working on the ground - you have the gypsy/traveller/Showman who tends to own/run things, and then you have hired non-GRTSB staff (traditionally called chaps, but this has fell out of fashion in recent years).

Now, I make this distinction because Haly’s Circus is really odd in that regard.

Most gypsy (or Showmen - like I say, it can be both at the same time) ran circuses and fairs tend to be family affairs. For example, it might be John Doe’s Circus on the tin, but the Smith family (which Mr Doe’s sister married into) will often work with and alongside the Does in the running and operating of the events. Largely, this is on an ownership level, with various relations then owning the surrounding supporting elements (e.g. sideshows, fairground rides and joints, food kiosks). Other family members might then help ‘mind’ the stuff, or you can hire non-GRTSB staff to help.

Now to draw on my own family history: historically, in the Victorian period, etc, it was common for the gypsy family who owned the circus to also perform in it. For example, in my grandfather’s circus, my grandmother was a lion tamer and equestrian performer in parades. They did also hire non-traveller performers, but there wasn’t such a distinct line. However, by the 30s approximately, this had changed to be a more managerial role, with it being more common to have purely hired performers in the main event. The exception here was for sideshows and fairground rides - it is still common today for these to be ran/worked by GRTSB people (e.g. my grandmother did the dookering - fortune telling - and my grandfather did the boxing; today, we still run and operate the rides and kiosks).

However, we know that Haly’s circus was not like that. We honestly don’t know if Haly was a gypsy or not. Also, usually, gypsies have such big families and are surrounded by them, but we know that the Graysons died with no living family (no William Cobb does not count here) and had no relation to anyone at Haly’s. I suppose if you want a canon answer, you could point to how Haly’s was used by the Court of Owls, but it could just be Like That. This is unusual but not unheard of, but still worth pointing out I think. Alternatively, it could originate from one of the non-GRTSB started circuses which were popular around the turn of the 20th century. Since being a gypsy is really tied to your family name and, ethnically, means you have to be born into it - you can’t just start a fair and claim to be one-, even 120 years later, these families are still met with scepticism - they could marry into a 100% gypsy family in 1901, and have all of their descendants do the same, and still the older generation would look at their surname and scoff and say they’re not a real traveller because that one great grandfather 100 years ago was not a born-and-bred traveller. But honestly, I think 100 years is enough to integrate. So, to summarise, Haly’s circus is quite unusual in that it does not appear to be operated by only gypsies/Showmen, even if it still common for circuses not to be performed in by just gypsies.

Now, to answer, how Romani is Dick Grayson?

Like I say, canon does explicitly tell us that he has Romani heritage, placing him firmly within that second category of the GRTSB acronym (and he also identifies with the more general Gypsy identity). However, it’s frankly unlikely that the writers really went in depth with the whole GRTSB thing, so I think we can tentatively suggest that he might have also identified (keyword here being ‘might’ - this is more canon-compliant HC here y’all) as a Showman (called a Carney in the US) because the whole deal with being a Showman is the circus/fairground aspect (but, like I say, it is still a ‘gypsy’ identity as you must be born a Showman, you can’t just sign up, because it is based on a mutual gypsy heritage which predates fairgrounds/circuses, which means it still fits into what we know of Dick in canon. As such, Dick being a Showman is hardly canon, but it is 100% compliant with what we know of Dick in canon). As I’ve said, they are not mutually exclusive. He could ID as both or either, or just prefer the all-encompassing ‘gypsy’.

Now, we also know that Dick is not 100% gypsy (but tbh who is nowadays? I have two non-gypsy great-great grandfathers). Although Dick’s family history is limited, we know that his great grandfather William Cobb was likely not a gypsy (he could be ethnically, it’s not ruled out, he might have just settled, but let’s go for safety’s sake here and just say he’s not). Similarly, his partner was from a wealthy non-gypsy family, meaning that ethnically, their baby (John Grayson’s father) was likely not a gypsy (though could potentially have been a Diddakoi aka a half-gypsy, if we believe William Cobb to be a settled gypsy). However, since this baby still grew up amongst the circus, it is not impossible that he ended up marrying a gypsy, which would make John Grayson half gypsy - aka a Diddakoi. In fact, I would argue that it is even likely, owing to the fact that Dick speaks Romani, and the fact that Romani is only taught to other members of the family, meaning that somewhere in the Grayson family, a Romani speaker had to be introduced. Mary Grayson (formerly Lloyd), on the other hand, probably was Romani/GRTSB herself. I say this, based mostly on her closeness with the OG Richard aka Raptor from Seeley’s run, who was Romani, and the fact that it is really common in gypsy circles to mostly mix with other gypsies, meaning that it would make sense for the pair to meet based on the fact that they were both gypsies/Romani. Therefore, I would argue that even if Dick is not wholly Romani/gypsy ethnically (but, like I say, who is nowadays?), I think there is enough both blood and culturally to make a pretty good case for him IDing as such, and foregoing the need to make any distinction. (Also, especially nowadays when Diddakois are increasingly more common, it’s not even that prejudiced to be a Diddakoi. A lot of my cousins are and you don’t even think to mention it). Aka. He’s a gypsy. Nuff said.

Then, I suppose, the final thing I’ll address is the ‘whitewashing’ issue, or, what I really think is a non-issue.

Sure, a lot of ethnically Romani people are dark skinned. There is a reason why the term gypsy exists. Now, as my grandad will tell you, gypsies originated from Northern India about 2000 years ago, before moving into Europe. However, a lot can happen in 2000 years. There are a lot of people in the UK, at least, who identify as purely Romani who have very pale skin. My family has a real split: my dad’s side of the family is quite dark, and are often mistaken for being South Asian in the summer due to how dark they get when they tan. Meanwhile, he refers to my mother’s side of the family as being ‘poxy and pasty’. My mother is a full-blooded traveller btw, same as my dad (barring their singular non-gypsy great grandad they each had). You just can’t paint everybody with the same brush. Take me for example: I am pale af and take after my mum’s side of the family, but I’ve still got the stereotypical dark curly hair and blue eyes of gypsies (which my boy also shares). Genetics are weird. So whilst I am a big fan of dark skinned Romani Dick Grayson, it’s also still ok and accurate for him to be paler. This does not make him any less Romani. (Like I say, this is all based on my experiences in the UK).

SOOO… TLDR:

Dick definitely has Romani heritage. This has been canon for decades and cannot be taken away from him.

He canonically self-IDs as a ‘gypsy’ (as well as the Romani heritage), and may also be interpreted as being a Showman (even if this is more of a European term) if you want to see him that way, especially since a lot of Showman families (mine included) can trace their families back past the origin of the fairground to when they simply identified as gypsies or Romani (hence why Dick might ID as a gypsy with Romani heritage. Honestly, this is mostly in the realm of canon-compliant Headcanon now)

The GRTSB classification system is a mess y’all and everyone has a different opinion. Just roll with it and don’t get into the debates is my professional opinion.

Being Romani/a gypsy/a traveller/a Showman is something you are born into. You can’t just become one, or stop being one. So, if we presume that William Cobb had no Romani heritage/was not a settled-down Gypsy, even after he joined Haly’s he did not become one. It really is in your blood, and is tied to family.

Haly’s circus is unusual because it’s mostly not a family affair (though points for the Graysons sticking with it and inheriting their roles - that is realistic!). It’s unclear how many of the members of the circus are Romani.

Dick also has non-traveller heritage due to the William Cobb thing. His grandfather, at least, was probably not ethnically Romani (though he might have been half if we want to view William Cobb as having Romani heritage/being a settled gypsy). However, since Dick canonically has Romani heritage, IDs as a gypsy, and speaks Romani (a language which is closely guarded amongst gypsies), it had to come in somewhere. Honestly, I think we can comfortably view him as being at least 3/4 ethnically Romani/a Gypsy, but also since modern Dick Grayson was not born during prohibition, this really isn’t a problem as it’s really common for Diddakois (half gypsies) to be treated as full gypsies nowadays.

As much as I love darker skinned Dick Grayson, it’s not a requirement. A lot of the GRTSB community (especially in Western Europe/Britain/Ireland) are on the pale side. This does not take away from their identity.

So that’s my rant. It’s like 3.30am so it’s probably a complete mess but hopefully it gets down the basics, at least insofar as it relates to my experiences and understanding as a gypsy from the fairground/a circus family. People will probably have different experiences (especially since I’m in the UK). Although I have based all of this on canon, and as such it should all be canon-compliant to my knowledge (I’ve still not read all the comics!), it is also equally based on my experiences, so you may interpret it completely differently. The beauty of Dick’s character is that he has been built up over 85 years, and as such, we have to do our best to interpret what was laid down in the Golden Age by writers with no idea of what Dick’s character would grow to be. As such, canon really is a bit of a sandbox, and this is my own go at it!

If anyone has any questions/wants clarification/notices any obvious contradictions with canon since I’ve not read them all yet, please feel free to point it out! This is not intended to be a lecture/call out post/dictatorship on how you view canon, just a small exploration of my interpretation of a character whom I relate to as a Romani speaking gypsy from the fairground/circus myself.

#I’m low-key terrified to post this pls don’t hang draw and quarter me #batman #batfam #dc comics #dick grayson #nightwing #romani dick grayson

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1-800-adore-me · 6 hours ago

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Quickies are never possible with Caleb .

🍎nsfw warning (18+) + tags:, unprotected sex, dirty talk, pet names (baby, honey, sweetie/sweetheart, princess, etc…), biting, praise kink, big cock, deep creampie, overstimulation, inappropriate usage of Caleb’s evol [ 1.3k words | porn without plot ] [A/N: i really want to write about Caleb using his mechanical arm...]

Here’s the thing that you quickly realized with Caleb ever since the two of you have became intimate: You could never do quickies with him.

And it is very hard to say no to quickies when it comes to Caleb, especially with those big puppy eyes of his. It’s that sweet voice that he possesses that can easily fog your judgement. “Just 5 minutes, princess. It’s all I ask for, okay? I won’t take long, sweetie. I just- I just need you right now, yeah? Understand me, sweetheart? I just need to feel you real quick and we can get going, okay?”

And who were you to deny him? Ever since you guys were little, you were always weak to his wishes. If Gran asked if you wanted to go to the grocery store with her and get some snacks, you would say no - giving an excuse of something like: “I’m tired” or “I have homework to do.”

Oh, but if Caleb asked you to? It didn’t matter if you pulled 2 all-nighters straight to study for an exam or if you barely woke up a minute ago, you were already rushing to put on your clothes and head out. Sure, you’d complain about how he decided to go at an inconvenient time but really, you were just happy to be by his side. With that sweet smile of his that is only seen with you, it felt like you needed nothing else from the world.

Which is why Caleb was currently drilling his big, thick cock inside your sopping wet cunt right now. This all happened because you couldn’t muster a simple “no” to his request after he walked in on you changing after a shower. You knew that your period was going to come soon so in order to prepare for it, you shaved your pubic hair so it wouldn’t get too messy down there. Just when you were slipping on your underwear, Caleb walked in to see the sight of your plush, bare pussy. It began with a simple - “Just let me feel you, baby. Just real quick, okay? I’ll even wash you again after.”

Perhaps you wanted this to happen as well because if you were stronger, you could’ve easily said ‘no’. But was it really your fault that his voice was just so irresistible?

“Aah-...! Haahn- C-Caleb! Caleb…!” His name, along with your dirty moans, were the only sounds that could be made from your drooling mouth. He was on top of you, relentlessly pumping his hard cock in and out of your pussy that was just gushing juices everytime his shaft pulled out of you. He thought that it was so cute that your cunt didn’t want to let go of him.

“What is it, princess?” He’d say in a playful tone, chuckling as he did so. “What do you want me for, baby? You’re saying my name so much… You always say my name so pretty.” He teased the opening of your mouth with his thumb, which you then began sucking as if he had another cock. You could see that his eyes darkened with lust as you licked and teased his tongue before enveloping your soft lips around his digit.

When he dragged his cock out of your pussy, only leaving his thick tip inside, before bucking his hips forward and shoving it all back inside, you bit down on his thumb to contain your cries. He hissed at the pain, letting out another rich chuckle from his throat.

“You want to give me another bite mark again, honey? Go ahead, give me everything you have. I’ll take it all so long as it’s you.” He pressed his pelvis closer to yours, trying to get deeper into your cunt. You could feel him reaching the depths of your sobbing pussy and the only thing that you could do was take all of Caleb inside of you. Along with that, he decided to torture you by rubbing your swollen clit with his large, big fingers. Your soft walls clenched around his thickness as you began squirting now - your mouth opening to let out a cry.

Your squirts began dirtying his abs, soaking it with all of your slick and wetness. He let out a dark laughter, satisfied by your adorable reaction to him fucking the shit out of you.

Caleb continued to fuck you as you orgasmed, enjoying the feeling of your walls getting wetter and tighter with every spasm he forced out of you. He felt delirious now, moaning as he felt you give him everything you had from your cunt. - “Fuuck, baby… You feel so fucking good inside. You’re taking my big cock so good with your pretty ltitle cunt, honey.” You tried to get up and slap away his hand in order to stop the overstimulation but you quickly felt his evol stopping you - forcing you to stay in your current position. You were just a fuckdoll laying down on his bed, forced to take whatever torture he wished to lay on you.

You started sobbing as he didn’t stop thrusting inside of you nor did he stop his fingers from playing with your swollen bundle of nerves. Your hips began squirming down and you, yourself, were unsure if you really wanted him to stop or not.

He leaned down to start to kiss you, tasting all of the sweet gummies that he had bought you earlier. One of his free hands intertwined itself with yours, a kind gesture that contrasted how brutal his thrusts were. He was fucking you into the mattress, as if he was trying to get inside your womb room.

The sound of skin slapping against another rang out in his bedroom, along with your cries and moans that you couldn’t help let out. - “Be a good girl for me and cum again, princess. Who’s making you cum? Say my name again with that pretty mouth of yours.” And in response, you moaned out his name again as if it was the only word you knew. Happy with your response, he dragged out his cock until the tip was the only thing left inside, and then slammed it inside of you again. A wet plap! noise was heard, along with your screams. The mattress underneath you was absolutely drenched with cum, slick, and squirt - all because Caleb needed to see you be absolutely ruined underneath him.

“-Mmph… mmm! Baby, I’m so close… I’m gonna go fast now, okay? I’ll let it all in your baby room, sweetheart. Let’s make a cute baby, yeah?” He said against your neck as he began suckling the sensitive skin and nipping at it with his teeth. You weren’t even sure if you could cover them with your Hunter uniform as he began biting the very center of your throat, making you squirm against his evol. His hold on your hand tightened as you felt his brutal pace began going faster. You could feel his cock begin pulsating as he released his seed deep inside of you, pumping in a few last thrusts into your abused pussy in order to make sure that your womb was drinking every single last drop of his precious cum. He whispered your name against your skin, his breath hot and heavy. - “So good, you feel so fucking good… You’re milking me, honey…”

The feeling of his thick cum filling you up made you begin squirting again as you both climaxed together. Your poor abused cunt was grinding against his cock still inside of you, the both of you moaning as you rode your orgasms.

When you felt Caleb release his evol, you sat up and grabbed his face - kissing him deeply as you craved his every person. You needed him more than ever as your mind slowly became more delirious as well.

He chuckled against your lips as you two took a small break to breathe. “Looks like someone is ready for round two then?”

Perhaps this was why you would never believe Caleb asking you for quickies.

#love and deepspace caleb #love and deepspace #caleb x mc smut #caleb x you #caleb x mc #caleb x reader #caleb x y/n #lads caleb #lnds caleb #caleb smut #l&ds caleb

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mistresslrigtar · 7 hours ago

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@pelicanpig's answers

Thanks Poposusz! :)

Last song: "I Don't Care" by Fall Out Boy

Favourite color: yellow, specifically pale sunshiny yellow or mustard. None of that neon or chartreuse business

Last book/fic: Currently listening to The Hobbit audiobook and catching up on A Link to the Stars (not simultaneously)

Last movie: Wicked part 1

Last show: How it's Made - the one and only time I've watched it

Sweet/spicy/savory: Sweet or savory. It depends on my mood.

Relationship: Married (with kids!)

Last thing I googled: how to spell chartreuse 😂

Current obsession: Recently learned how to play Minecraft and now I'm busy amassing an army of wolves while my husband fights all the bad guys for me. That's part of why I've been so MIA all over fandom...

I'm looking forward to: Finishing all these WIPs that I keep saying I'll finish 😭 Also, springtime since it's my favorite season!

No pressure tags: @mistresslrigtar @mailrebel (I know you love long reblogs friend 😂) @breezybeezz @zolanort @fan-girls-r-us

______________________________________________________________

Thanks @pelicanpig for the tag! (I love Minecraft and have been wanting to play again, but I know if I do all my writing will cease because it sucks me in, so I am holding off and it's been a difficult thing to do!)

Missy's answers below!

I trimmed the previous content of this post because it was LONG, but I wanted to play! 😅

Last Song: Animal I've Become by Three Days Grace

Favorite Color: Pink of any shade, but especially hot pink

Last book/fic: One Dark Window by Rachel Gillig/The Absence of Hate by petalpusher aka @crowcaws (it's a LoZ/SW cross-over and it's good ya'll!! Picture this: Link/Inquisitor w/ memory loss and Zelda/potential Jedi; do you really need another two reasons to check it out? 😂🤣)

Last Movie: Venom: The Last Dance - I don't recommend-suffers from bad editing

Last Show: The Night Agent on Netflix - I'm bored with this show, plus the lead reminds me of Cal Kestis from the SW video game Fallen Order and that's all I can think about when I watch it 😂

Sweet/Spicy/Savory: Savory for food/sweet and spicy for reading 😅😳

Relationship: very happily married with two amazing boys 😊😊

Last thing I googled: how to spell Cal Kestis (see above lol)

Current Obsession: Legend of Zelda is strong with this one 😉

I'm looking forward to: my next vacation; it cannot come soon enough. I just need to plan and pay for it...

I tag @daemosdaen , @bahbahhh , @drsteggy (maybe not the tag game you were looking for, but here you go!), @karama9 , @amelias-hart , and @crowcaws

10 people I’d like to get to know better

Since I had two separate tags in this, @spaceyjessa and @laughhardrunfastbekindsblog I decided I would make a separate post.

Last song: with lyrics: Beautiful Boy by The Last Dinner Party (I found out about this band like two weeks ago and now I’m going through a phase I’m obsessed)

Without lyrics: I am ready by Kevin Kiner & Sean Kiner: from the bad batch season three soundtrack. Been listening to it a lot lately, as it feels pretty prevalent to the time of my life that I’m at

Favourite color: light pinks and baby blues

Last book/fic: the last book I finished was defy the storm, by Tessa Gratton (I’m getting closer and closer to being caught up on THR)

Fic: Mace Windu fixes the timeline (You should read it, it’s wonderful)

Last movie: the rise of Skywalker (yes, I love the sequel trilogy and what about it 💅)

Last show: the bad batch... I’m re-watching, again... how predictable 🙄

Sweet/spicy/savory: I have a big sweet tooth, especially when it comes to chocolate

Relationship: single real life, but in love with countless fictional characters inside my head🤩

Last thing I googled: what does the quest cookies and cream protein bar taste like? (look, I have arfid. I can’t just buy new things to try without knowing exactly what I’m getting into first)

Current obsession: Star Wars, duh! Specifically clones and TBB, the Mandalorian and the high republic

I look forward to telling you: that if you’re reading this you’re wonderful

No pressure tags (and I’m sorry if you’re being tagged again) @clonethirstingisreal @eobe @dystopicjumpsuit @sunshinesdaydream and anyone else who would like to.

#tag games #inside missy's mind #it's an endless pit of inaneness #tag you're it

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h-sleepingirl · 3 days ago

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Dolly in the Art Gallery: A Charmed 2025 Scene Log/Recap

“Art is how we decorate space, and music is how we decorate time.”

I first heard this Jean-Michel Basquiat quote in a rope class from Barkas, in the context of how we play within both space and time in a kink scene. I think about it frequently, especially as I feel more and more passionately about the brutally human impulse to create art.

I have been coming to hypnosis events since 2013, before Charmed existed -- my first event was packed with my own manic energy, held in a dungeon where people could hypnotize me basically at will. No hotel staff, no sneaking back to a private room. I developed a reputation as an aesthetically pleasing subject, often put on display in subtle and overt ways.

I have grown up in this community. Essentially my entire adult life has been spent involved in going to events and cons. I'm 33 now, and as Charmed celebrates its 10th year I've perhaps been unconsciously influenced to reflect on myself aging.

I feel so much older than that 21 year old exhibitionist. I'm more reserved, quieter, more selective, and certainly smarter. I like who I'm becoming, but I do miss parts of who I used to be -- that confidence, that energy.

On Friday evening I looked at the schedule and saw there was going to be a Gallery of Living Art -- it's been a staple at Charmed for a number of years, but I'd never done more than peek inside.

I thought to myself: “Why not try to get in touch with that playful younger self? Why not show everyone who I am nowadays? Why not live out a fantasy?”

Surely I’m not too old. Surely I haven’t grown out of this.

The time comes and I connect with my partner about it. He knows that one of my absolute favorite things is being totally frozen. We decide against anything complicated. No one will touch me or trigger me or anything like that. It’s the most “negotiating” we've maybe ever done, but I still leave all details to him. I tell him: “I was really just thinking this is an opportunity for me to sit blank and still for a long time.”

We walk into the room, and it’s overwhelming. People are setting up intricate exhibits with lots of creative interactions. There is a sheet we need to fill out to describe what our “art” is, which my partner writes on cryptically.

“Dolly can't talk. Duh…”

“Dolly is precious -- don't touch!”

Under “Artist”, where he is meant to put his name, he writes a question mark.

I am so in love with him, watching his mind work on the spot.

We find a place in the loud room and look at each other. We are a fluid force of nature in a bed together, spontaneous and wild. This planning doesn't feel like us. This hypnosis isn't a formality, per se, but it just feels sort of like “We both know how this is going to end on some level -- so how do we spend this time?”

He gingerly removes my name tag and starts murmuring to me.

Being a dolly is such a luxurious treat that the moment he suggests it, I crumble, gripping his shirt with my weak little fingers, moaning too softly to be heard by anyone but him.

He poses me. He fixes my gaze blank and forward. He lets me practice standing and sitting. This kind of rehearsal is unfamiliar for us, and I almost relish doing something that feels a little awkward.

I am a dolly when he leaves me, frozen and posed, but I know it is going to take a couple minutes to settle in. I am a dolly getting comfortable, a dolly with twinges of self-consciousness. After a couple minutes he walks me over to a different chair, one that is highlighted by empty space around it, and I sit, and I know this is truly where I am supposed to be on display.

Finally, total stillness rushes over me like pure relief.

I sit, and I stare, and I don’t do anything else. My mind is blank, and sometimes all there is inside my head is “I’m a dolly, I’m a dolly,” in my little dolly voice. It is pure, simple bliss.

People begin to come up to me to look at me. I am a good dolly and I am silent and I do not move even my eyes. They patiently read my sign and then observe me. I cannot change my body position to be any more or less appealing to them, I cannot hide nor flaunt myself.

Some people say things to me, little compliments and appreciations, and I can’t really process their words. The little dolly voice in my head screams in pleasure when I’m spoken to and given attention.

I have ADHD, I’m addicted to my phone, I’m a fidgeter. But there is nothing that carries the unique pleasure of being frozen and still. It reminds me of Quaker meetings, of spiritual silence and meditation that makes one feel time itself as though it has a sensory texture.

Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel talks about the Jewish sabbath as proof that it is not intuitive for us to sanctify time. But nevertheless as Jews we must learn to do it to make shabbat holy every week. Shabbat is “a cathedral in time,” he says, and I’ve been thinking about how much that applies to my experience of hypnosis. Hypnosis is not a physical object. We may sometimes have props but we cannot touch trance and it leaves no marks. It is time that is the sacred dimension in hypnosis, the time that we set aside (“kadosh” in Hebrew) with another human being.

Heschel says we are slaves to space and material things. And in this moment I feel like I have gotten as close as I can to releasing that. I am not even moving my physical body within the physical world. I am just relishing each passing second of stillness, building my cathedral in time.

Of course, sometimes I think sacred space and objects are very important. After all, I am in a space that is incredibly rare, that only exists very briefly, that I had to travel at length to get to.

And I am an object -- art -- inside of it. I am literally decorating the space, as Basquiat would say.

Am I thinking all of this as I sit there motionless? No, not with any sophistication. I truly feel blank. But I am feeling flashes of this as abstract mental sensations that I will untangle later.

Something else strikes me very quickly that I observe within. When people walk up to look at me, something inside me tenses up. I realize that I am unconsciously preparing myself to talk to them. I have been coming to cons for so long, and especially since beginning to write books I always meet a ton of new people every year who come up to me to talk, which I adore. But right now I am in a space where I literally cannot have a conversation with anyone. I don’t even have my nametag on anymore -- my partner was so clever to remove it.

It is the opposite of vending books, where I sit in a chair and am helpless in the sense that I must engage in conversation with the people who come up to meet me. Now, I literally cannot talk to anyone, and they cannot talk to me, and most people may not even know who I am.

It is a hit of extreme objectification, more real than it has ever felt. I am not sleepingirl -- I am a dolly. “Who” I am doesn’t matter. I am art.

My partner also is not sitting there receiving compliments for me. He is nearby, in eyesight, just watching. But he’s anonymous too. And there is something about this mutual anonymity that makes me feel even prouder about us as a couple. There is no performance of who we are. I don’t know how to describe it, but obviously it feels more authentic than public play usually ever does. Like a little secret we are sharing a corner of.

And he looks ever the artist, sitting back and watching me. I feel very strongly that this little scene isn’t the art -- it’s me. Our relationship is what’s really on display. All the work he’s done over 7 years of brainwashing me, real work on my personality and identity, my wardrobe, every single way I express myself and who I am. The people coming by are seeing his bimbo, his dolly, his [x] -- without necessarily knowing who either of us are.

The rhythm is addicting. My mind babbles my self-given dolly mantra over and over, I luxuriate in the stillness, and I stare. I only can sort of half-see with darkened vision, though my eyes are wide. I love when people notice me sitting there -- their expressions change as they observe me. They step into my metaphorical space, which is eerily silent compared to the revelry of the creative demonstrations that fill the room. They are no longer “being entertained,” and no one can communicate to them what I am doing -- they must engage with me out of their own curiosity.

Sometimes they decide to talk to me. I can’t process most of it, but I remember a few interactions.

Someone says, “What an excellent dolly.”

Someone else notices that I’m wearing a bracelet that says “bimbo,” and says, “Even the details on this one are exquisite.”

Someone else says, “Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen sleepingirl play before.”

That last one hits me in the gut with memories of a time now long past: Play in public spaces was universal at cons; I couldn’t move from one place to another without someone dropping me into trance; absolutely everyone knew what I looked like when hypnotized.

Even now as I am on display, I have a mask on, and the people can’t see my gently parted lips.

It is a rush of emotion that is very complex for my simple little dolly head, but it goes away.

For a long while, I just exist as a thing in bliss while the room -- the whole world -- bubbles with activity around me.

Eventually even as I sit frozen and blank, a little timer starts ticking in my head -- I could sit here for much longer, but I don’t want to make him wait for me, and I have other things I want to do tonight.

Reading Heschel has been helping me release some of that odd panic that bubbles up when I awaken from trance -- the feeling that magic is slipping through my fingers, memories are slipping out of my mind, and I can take no memento from it. I sometimes write, draw, or make music to try to capture the things I feel in hypnosis with my partner. I think it is from that impulse to be able to touch and hold hypnosis, to make it a “thing” in space as opposed to something of time.

But I do think there is something else, just a human drive to create art about this transcendent experience that we engage in together. I need to create art to try to communicate the perfect way I don’t move and my eyes go glassy. I need to express my emotions, my desires, my dreams, my love. I am only human, a human blown away by this very human thing we do that we call hypnosis.

Only my partner sees it, and he does see so much into the soul of it for me. But this is exactly what I have wanted -- a chance to publicly communicate the beauty of what he and I do. To make this art by performing it, living it. To engage in a human act of creativity by having my humanity stripped away from me.

I am a bimbo, a dolly, I am art -- and that doesn’t go away when I get up to tell him I am done sitting here. I am his art. I am a manifestation of his creativity in this world, and he has a beautifully creative mind which I love so dearly.

This is serious for me, this is real for me, this is so highly personal and jealously guarded as my own precious identity.

Ten years ago I laid my head on his lap and he transformed my eyes into dolly eyes and told me that someday he would turn my whole body into a dolly body. And as we laid together in a bed after the Gallery on Friday he talked about how I had those dolly eyes again in that room. But to me, it’s not about being a dolly, or even being a bimbo. It’s about creating art together, art with a power imbalance. And fucking respecting that as sacred and exciting.

I don’t have much else to say except extreme heartfelt gratitude to Mazirian for running the Gallery, and everyone who came by to look at me and said nice things to me and joined me in my world for just a little while.

(If you’re curious, I was sitting there for about 30 minutes.)

#hypnosis #hypnok1nk #dollification #bimbo doll #Brainwashing #my writing #my art #charmed #charmed 2025 #I haven't written a scene log in a very long time #And this one obviously reflects how I've been thinking about kink and intimacy different lately #I know it's not traditionally sexy #But it's very sexy to me

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thefrontmanscockwarmer · 2 days ago

Text

My Best Friend’s Brother (Part 5)

Player 001 x reader

Masterlist <- comment on this post to be added to the tag list

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

You, Jun Ho, and In Ho walked to your apartment, grabbing clothes, your favorite throw blanket, and stuff for your cat.

“Why do you need so much shit?” In Ho, who seemingly had something to say all the time, spoke. He rolled your suitcase.

“She’s gonna be staying with us all month, dim wit” Jun Ho replied.

“Well that’s stupid. Don’t touch my shit while I’m at work.”

“Our room, our stuff” you said cheekily before you shot a look at him.

“No. My room, my stuff” he said.

“Wellllll I am staying there for a whi-“

“Whatever. Don’t touch my shit.”

“She touched your shit yesterday…” Jun Ho said.

“I dont give a fuck, i gave her permission to touch my shit.” In Ho snapped back. “Now, im telling her not to touch my shit when I’m not home”

“I don’t want touch shit at all”

“You literally scoop cat shit” Jun Ho says. In Ho snickered.

“Good one” he gave a fist bump.

“Can we stop talking about shit?!” You ask heatedly. The boys shut their mouths before In Ho whispered:

“Someone’s losing her shit.” Jun Ho laughed loudly, In Ho following suit.

“Seriously, In Ho? You’re literally older than us, get your shit together” they both snorted before laughing even louder. Making you laugh too.

Jun Ho left almost as soon as you guys arrived to the house.

In Ho pushed you against the door, barricading it shut. Breathing heavily in your ear, his cock leaking in his pants.

“I’ve been wanting to get ahold of you since you got out of bed this morning.” He growled in your ear. “I shouldn’t have let you go”

“No, you shouldn’t have” you reply, helping him out of his pants. You dropped to your knees. In Ho pulled your hair up, as you licked his tip. The feeling making him throw his head back, a low grumble from his chest accompanying it. You took his length, putting his cock deep in your throat. In Ho grunted primally as he pushed his cock in deeper. Forcing your head to hit the door. He pinned your hair up, thrusting into your mouth.

“Oh god, (y/n), why does your mouth feel so fucking good?” He coaxed in a low tone, fucking your throat. “I almost want to cum right now, fuck” the foreign feeling of his cock in your mouth was a long awaited day dream, you began to gag and choke on his thick member. The vibrations sending him into overdrive. He sped up, chasing his orgasm now, continuing his brutal assault on your throat. He braced his hand against the door, his hips stuttered. His body tense and convulsion with every thrust into your mouth. A low grumble”oh god” was uttered in the most sinful groan as he released cum down your throat. Thrusting slower now to fully empty himself inside you before putting himself back in his jeans.

“Your cum tastes almost like whiskey” you giggle.

“Well, according to last night… you really fucking like whiskey” he said. Your watery eyes looked up at him. “Ready to go pick out a new mattress your-annoyingness” he joked. You slapped his shoulder as you stood.

“Shut up.” You squint at him.

“Sorry” he kept laughing. “Mom, tell your son to stop laughing at me” you said as you walk into the kitchen.

“I would but, I haven’t heard him laugh this hard since he was younger.” She giggled lightly.

“Where Mr. Hwang?” You ask. “we might need his help.”

“He’s out betting on the horse races. Just have them deliver it to the house, the boys can do all of that.”

“Okay.” You shrug. You hear a loud groan as your cat emerges from In Ho’s room.

“Come back! I wanted more cuddles!!” He shouts chasing after the animal.

“Awww he’s so precious!” Mrs. Hwang exclaims. “What’s his name?”

“Wiseuki” you say aloud. The cat rubs against her legs as she repeats his name, looking at you knowing why you named him that… after her whiskey drinking son.

“Come on (y/n), let’s go pick that mattress” In Ho says pushing you out the door.

As soon as you entered the mattress store, he threw himself onto a bed. Immediate disgust etching on his face. You could tell this was going to be a long trip.

Taglist

@christinamadsen @sebbymybaby21 @nakiio5775 @xcinnamonmalfoyx @player279achlys @watasinekoru @galaxygurlll @angelofthorr @whamzou

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marsbutterfly · 2 days ago

Note

Nerd Hanji head cannons??? Absolutely smart and top of her class no social life? Pulls Y/N??? Erwin, Levi and Moblit are like is Reader blind???? Fluffy nerdy shit I eat that up and let me tell you I’m STARVING

Headcanons: Nerd! Hanji Zoe

a/n: i've had these ready for about a week or so but for some reason i haven't posted them? idk, but i do hope you enjoy heh i had fun.

warnings: none. this is pure fluff. | tagging: @wizzy21

❀ Nerd! Hanji who has been your close friend since the two of you were young. They were always a bit awkward and going around studying frogs or collecting rocks, but you were always following closely behind with a pencil sharpener and a box of band-aids.

❀ Nerd! Hanji who used to tutor you in their free time. Their favorite subjects had always been the most difficult ones: chemistry, physics and math. So they would always do everything in their power to make the subjects more interesting or, at the very least, easier for you to understand.

❀ Nerd! Hanji who has done your homework for you more times than you could count. Some times because you were sick, some because you were getting frustrated and aggravated and some of them in exchange for some of your baking. So they would sit on the kitchen counter as you would bake them cookies, cakes, whatever they were craving that day.

❀ Nerd! Hanji who has always been class president for as long as they were allowed to run. They were constantly trying their best to make sure everyone in class was happy and also having their concerns being heard. They ran unopposed for over five years, mainly because there was nobody else who could have done a better job than them.

❀ Nerd! Hanji who deletes all of their social media every time they have an exam coming up. No matter how many times you tell them that they could easily just delete the app, they will not listen to you because they say they're tempted to just "download it" again.

❀ Nerd! Hanji who has had a crush on you for years but never did anything about it. They wanted to ask you out for so long but didn't for two reasons. Number one is that they didn't think you felt the same way and, number two, because they wanted to wait until you both got to college and had an idea of what you were looking to do for the rest of your life.

❀ Nerd! Hanji who was the joke of the group multiple times but they still couldn't understand that they were being teased for your feelings about them, not the other way around.

❀ Nerd! Hanji Nerd hanji who excels in absolutely everything that they do but are completely oblivious to your feelings for them until you straight up kiss them after a day out together. You were already considering it a date, they thought the two of you were just hanging out before college started. They didn't complain one bit, though.

❀ Nerd! Hanji who doesn't pay attention to how they look, especially when you go out together. They will keep their hair in a messy ponytail, wear the same pair of old crocs and the same taped pair of broken glasses.

❀ Nerd! Hanji who gets you a scholarship to your dream college so the two of you can study together. They will change their entire life plan that they have had since they were a child just to spend time with you, much to their parents' dismay.

❀ Nerd! Hanji who constantly helps you study for your exams because they have absolutely nothing to worry about for themselves and they want you to achieve only the best you can.

❀ Nerd! Hanji who set the curve for the grades too high so they are lowkey disliked by most of their classmates. They don't really care though, the only person they care about is how you feel about them. And you love them to bits.

❀ Nerd! Hanji has an internship at a very prestigious laboratory and is already being considered for a full-time position by the time they graduate.

❀ Nerd! Hanji who constantly sends you pictures of funny looking bacteria they find. They find random shapes and immediately whip out their phone (which they are very much not allowed to do but they get so excited that they can't help it.)

❀ Nerd! Hanji who constantly needs to buy new pens and pencils because they are often biting the back of it or the cap. They have come home with blue or black ink on their lips more times than you can count on one hand.

❀ Nerd! Hanji who sometimes forgets to eat so you always bring them food regardless of where they are. They always blush and tell you not to trouble yourself with these kinds of things but you can't help it. Knowing that they are using all that brain power with no fuel makes your heart ache. So you always give them extra food and water.

❀ Nerd! Hanji who tilts their head when they are thinking about stuff. They do it regardless if they are at work or if they are at home. So you just know they could be looking for a bacteria in a sample or for the extra block of cheese in the back of the fridge, the look is the same.

❀ Nerd! Hanji who doodles your name all over their notepads over and over, to the point where they have to force themselves out of that mind space, otherwise they can't focus.

❀ Nerd! Hanji who looks at you and only you. No matter how old the two of you are, they are always in love with you. And they are always yapping about some video game or book, not that you mind, of course. You never did.

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lilgarbitch · 3 days ago

Text

For Better Or For Worse - Noah Sebastian

Beside You Pt. 2

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Reader

CW: more angst<3

Word Count: 1.2k

Author’s Note: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Tags: @theanarchymuse95 @dontwantthemoney @chey-h @badomensgoodomens @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @enemiestolovershoe @blade-dressed-in-red @xmads-omensx @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @thatchickwiththecamera @tosoundlessdarkistare

Y/N

It’s been about three years since that day, give or take. All I know is that time has passed and I’ve lost track. Things have changed, yet stayed the exact same. The pain has eased with time, but the love has yet to die. I’m still living in the old house, just changing as much of the interior as I could without feeling like I’ve lost too much. Because what else will be left when the hurt is gone? I now have a bed and sheets that have never touched his skin. A couch that didn’t home one or more of the boys in a time of need. The sad yellowing walls are now a light grey, with no sign of smoke stains or holes from bad decisions. Even I’ve changed. My hair is different, I’ve retired piercings, gotten new tattoos, and even changed my style. Things were different. Yet everytime I glanced into a room, I could see the memories replaying in my head like an old movie. Everytime I see the unclosed hole of my lip piercing, I’m reminded of Noah joining me for a last minute, impulsive decision. Everyday, I debate covering the tattoo that we got together when Nick started apprenticing, but then I see a photo of him on stage, singing with his arm raised, and I see that he still has his too.

He’s changed too. Not to the point of losing recognition, but enough that I can tell he’s getting healthier out there. His voice has grown, his hair is shorter and choppy, and he’s fit into himself better than he ever has before. I don’t mean to look at pictures of him and the boys, but I could never unfollow their accounts. I could never pretend that my love died that day like they have. It’s an internal battle everytime I see him, debating if him leaving me behind was really what he needed to do.

But I know it wasn’t. Because in the days where I really miss him and really want to feel the grief of the past, I listen to their new music. It’s not hard to understand where the lyrics come from. I’ve known Noah for too long to ignore how he portrays his emotion through his music. But what I don’t understand is why. Why sing of regret? Why put yourself through all of this pain and misery when we could have lived a different way? Every time his voice rings through my home, all I can ask is would you have been there when I came home? Could you not have held on to another day, just for us to be together? I could have easily joined you in your journey, nothing else more important to me than you, so why make the decision for me? Especially when all it resulted in was the two of us living in regret?

His regret being leaving. Of stupidly deciding that I was better off without him, even after years of me trying to prove that nothing could be worse than not having him by my side. Our lives may have never stopped that day, but I know, at least for me, that my will to try and make life worth living was gone the second he drove off.

That leads to my regret. The regret of holding on for so long. To still be holding on. To the hope that one day, things can be okay again. Because I’m terrified. Terrified I’ll never see him again. Terrified that, one day, I’ll accept never seeing him again. Terrified that I won’t be okay again unless he comes back. Terrified that no matter the outcome, I won’t be happy again. And those are the days that I’ve lived for the past few years. In fear of losing someone I already lost. Because there was a day where I allowed him to pull me out of a dark and lonely place, only to allow him to push me back in, and still forgive him in hopes he’ll pull me out again.

Noah

The days have become grueling again. I shoved my emotions into lyrics, pouring my rage and guilt into melodies, and it was a simple distraction…until tour started. And every song was another reminder of her. I didn’t even think. I was so focused on using my music as an outlet that I forgot it could bite me in the ass. That I’d be forced to travel back to Virginia, and sing these lyrics under the same sky. One we’d both be staring up at together again.

I was more than grateful that Sumerian Records was able to get us an opening spot for Attila’s tour, but that meant within a month, I’d be back in Richmond and close to her again. Each night of the tour so far was painful, just counting down the seconds until the next day, because it was another day closer to home. And I don’t mean the home I grew up in, but the person I left behind.

I had the whole world in my hands, and with one stupid decision, I gave it all away. What did I even think I would save? Life without her has been miserable. I thought I was helping both of us by leaving, but with every free moment I got over the last three years, all I could do was wish it was filled with her presence. I could’ve made it work, I just didn’t want to try. And I knew her long enough to know that she would’ve made it the easiest thing in the world. So this was my burden to take. Because I’m the only one to blame. I kept telling myself that she was so much better off without me. With nothing but the memories of my face. But now I know that, even if she was doing better, I wasn’t. Because I have no use now that she’s gone.

I have no way of knowing how to deal with this. I knew better than anyone else that the decisions I made ruined things, but I couldn’t handle being back there and not trying. I knew the chances of me absolutely fucking everything up again by simply showing my face, but the risk was worth it. I couldn’t have a chance like this and not take it. I would never be able to live with myself if I didn’t at least see if there was a possibility to have her again. This could either destroy both of us completely, or finally be a second chance at being happy again. I had to take it. I had to do this, because I was running out of faith.

TO BE CONTINUED

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian reader insert #bad omens #bad omens fanfiction #Spotify

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slimybeth69 · 2 days ago

Text

Que Será, Será: Part 9

Rating: Explicit- Smut, violence, drinking/drug use. MDNI!!

Summary: It's almost twenty years after some weird outbreak almost happened but the CDC took care of that...Now you're living in Austin, Texas as an adult.What happens when you meet Joel Miller who hasn't been hardened and ruined by twenty years of murder and loss?Warnings/Tags: DaddyDom!Joel/ you. no use of y/n. No physical description of the reader besides one tattoo. Reader has a background story. Drinking/drug use. Slow burn. Smut. Angst. Cheating. Graphic depictions of violence. Eventual loss of virginity. Use of nicknames/pet names (lil girl, baby girl.) DD/lg dynamics. BDSM play.

Unbeta'ed. WIP. Cross-posting from my Ao3.Chapter

Warnings: drinkings, bar fights, reader gets injured, Joel is a DICK. SMUT!! SO MUCH!!! IT'S HAPPENING EVERYONE. IT'S HAPPENING.

It’s been two weeks since your little drinking, spanking, shopping and swapping shenanigans. Joel (your boyfriend) has spent the night at least…nine or ten times and each time he brings you something. Four times it was flowers, another time he brought dinner. The next night he brought you sex toys. Real sex toys and didn’t even ask to watch you use them. Just left them on your bedside table before he left for work and then kissed you goodbye while you slept.

He doesn’t ask you to come over after you said you feel bad about leaving your brand new cat. Who is…perfect and sweet. She is a snuggly baby and just wants love and scratches. She looooves Joel. Meows at him all the time and he acts annoyed by it but you know he loves it. He’s so nice and sweet to her. Picks her up and puts her in his lap when he thinks you aren’t looking. He just wants to pet her and be nice to her.

It’s going to be awkward if and when Sam and Cody ever come home. Another grown man…older than both of them sleeping in their basement? Awesome. Sam–if she ever gets better– is going to lose her mind that this man is twenty years older than you. She’s also going to have a sarcastic mouth and say something about him being old enough to be your dad and… Joel doesn’t like that very much. Not at all, actually. So.

You guys get it…more than you would think. People are just openly telling you and your dad to have a great day. Enjoy your meal. Have fun. Why are people okay with outwardly assuming the older gentleman you’re with is your dad? Huh? Weird. Joel does not let go of your hand or your ass everywhere you go because he hates it so much. It’s been a struggle.

But not enough to make him not wanna see you anymore.

Joel is taking you to the bar tonight to meet Tommy, his brother. Your boyfriend (never gets old) told you that you’ve probably seen Tommy before. He comes into the store too. You're racking your brain of every man who has ever come through your line before. Ones that look like Joel? None. Maybe. You dunno. You see so many guys all day long.

Tommy recognizes you though. Sure does.

“You rejected me a couple months ago.” Tommy snickers softly as he shakes your hand. “But you’ll date my asshole older brother? I see. I see you.” Tommy gives you the universal – index and middle fingers pointed at his eye then to yours– motion that says ‘I see you’. It’s fine. You do not care. Joel is your type and Tommy is no Joel.

Tommy is alright though. You’re shocked you turned him down as you all sat at a booth near the back of the bar with drinks. His hair is longer, shoulder length and darker than Joel’s. Mustache and a goatee. He never asked for your number… He’s lying. Maybe.

“You like Austin?” Tommy sips on his beer after he asks.

“It’s alright. I liked living in Jersey. I didn’t really wanna move. It was just hard finding a job up there…but it was just as hard down here.” You snort and take a sip of your drink as Joel relaxes. He said in the car he was sore and he needed a massage later. You would give him one in hopes he would fuck you. He still hasn’t. It’s fine. You’re not upset about it.

“Hardware store treat you good? Joel told me ‘bout your truck and your computer. Sucks. Sorry.” Tommy seems like a nice guy.

“They’re nice to me. Give me the same schedule that I like. Don’t make me work late. I don’t love it, but I don’t hate it.” You shrug your shoulders. “Do you like working with Joel?” You feel a gentle and slow moving hand on your bare thigh, Joel’s hand under the skirt of your sundress.. A comforting touch.

“S’alright. All I’ve ever done. I started right after I graduated high school— did that early.” Tommy smiles at himself proudly.

“That’s fuckin’ cool. Did you do any night classes or anything like that to go to college smarty pants?” You tease him nicely. He chuckles and shakes his head.

“Nooo. Stayed here and just worked for this miserable fuck. Probably will for the rest of his life.” Tommy jokes and Joel rolls his eyes.

“I’m fuckin’ retiring soon. Fuck that shit. You take over. You do this shit.” He grumbles and sips his beer.

“I’ll take over, shiiit. Been waiting to hear those words.” Tommy shakes his head in a sense of disbelief and excitement and is smiling. It’s a cute brother interaction and it’s good to see that they’re close. Tommy doesn’t actually hate him you don’t think. So that’s good. Joel is moving his hand all up and down your leg and moving it in towards your inner thigh, squeezing you tightly with his rough fingers.

“I’m thinkin’ next year or two. Nothin’ too long.” Joel sounds reassuring to Tommy.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Tommy rolls his eyes and finishes his beer. “Y’all want another?” You and Joel both say yes and as soon as Tommy is out of earshot, Joel leans in and whispers in your ear.

“Open your legs.” Then he kisses you on the cheek and leans back against the booth. You open your legs slowly and Joel doesn’t tease or anything, he's inside your panties and he slides one thick, stiff finger through your folds, pulls his hand from under your dress and offers his finger that was just trailing up your other set of lips. You open your mouth and he smears your juices on your tongue, withdraws his finger and then sucks it clean with his mouth. “Close ‘em.” Joel nudges your knee with his under the table and you snap them shut as Tommy walks up.

They start to talk and you have no time to talk to him about what he just did. In public! Indecency!! Getting arrested?? He had scared you in the parking lot when he said you could get arrested!! No thank you. Your back is sweating from that. Kinda hot…

“Hey,” Joel nudges you with his elbow and drags you back to the bar and out of fucking thinking about becoming a registered offender for Joel. You’re being spoken to and not responding. Tommy is asking you something.

“Did you go to school?”

“Um, for a little bit and then I found a job I loved and didn’t wanna go. Wasn’t going…” You chuckle that last part nervously. “Partied a little and just would sleep through class. Wasting money.” You shrug your shoulders. You can feel Joel’s eyes on you but you don’t look up at him.

“Damn. I went to a couple of college parties. Fuckin’ pretty wild shit happenin’ there.” Tommy is doing nothing to help your case.

“Dumb shit.” You snort and avoid the quizzical eyes that that are being given to you by your boyfriend. You left out the parties when he asked. Dunno why you said anything tonight. Idiot.

“Hell yeah. Saw some wild shit…” Tommy’s eyes are flicking between you and Joel and he’s smirking. “Your man over there know what kinda wild shit you was gettin’ into?” He snickers into his beer glass.

“I wasn’t getting into any wild shit. Just drinking too much.” You roll your eyes and finally look up at Joel who is just… lookin’ at you. “I wasn’t gettin’ into wild shit!” You exclaim and he smirks.

“Sure.” Then he goes back to talking to Tommy.

“Hey, I’ll be right back” You stand to go to the bathroom after letting Joel know and try and find it in this maze of a bar. You find it a minute later. You look nice tonight. Did your make up all pretty and actually did something pretty with your hair. You're happily looking at yourself in the mirror and two girls walk in– pretty girls. They look at you. You look at them. It’s quiet for two seconds.

“I love your dress!” One of them exclaims excitedly. They fawn over your simple navy blue dress. It’s knee length. Nothing fancy but they hype you up in the bathroom and make you feel so nice. What a good drunk girl bathroom experience. You’re on cloud nine walking back to the booth when chaos erupts beside you at the bar. You have no time to scramble away before the tall bar chairs are being knocked over and hitting you in the legs. It hurts! People start shouting–

“Fuck you– stupid fucking pussy bitch. You won’t do shit. You fucking wont”

“Fuckin’ lets go outside. Fight me outside pussy. One-on-one. Me n’ you, fucker.”

They do not wait and are throwing punches so quickly and moving so fast. You are overtaken by them and do not even realize what is happening as you take elbows and maybe a fuckin’ fist to the eye!? What was that!? Jeeeesus that hurt– whatever the fuck it was– but it doesn’t stop! They are fighting and now more people from the bar are jumping in to fight or break it up.

Soft, small hands are on yours and pulling you out of the way but someone falls and breaks your grip and now you’re stumbling backwards towards more fighting men and now, fighting women. They aren’t asking who is involved. Just throwing punches and you take one to the left tit and someone kicks you in the back of the thigh!! What the fuck!! Now, you’re mad and you are also fucking punching and kicking people. What the fuck!? Who just doesn’t let the girls get outta the way first???

One of the two original guys is on the ground, and he definitely hit you or elbowed you (on accident, but still). You give him two good stomps to the shoulder for whatever he did to you and then… you get a real punch to the face. The fist is big, feels like a boulder against your skull. There is so much force behind it. You're stunned. One that sends you into tunnel vision and it’s blurry and you’re in pain. Real pain. None of that other shit hurt like this. Hoooly shit. Your eye is on fire. It might have fucking fallen out. Jeeeeus. You're stumbling away, almost falling down to the ground. More people are on top of you. You are fighting them off of you.

You're trying to stand up in this mob of people and your hand gets stepped on and it hurts. Your dress is all hiked up to your stomach. The bar floor is sticky and there are hands on you. Not even trying to be groping or touching you the way they are, they're just as desperate to get out of this sea of hot, sweating bodies. Finally, you're on your knees and someone pushes you forward into someone another girl. You've never seen her before, and now the eye that hurt before it's stinging and you can barely see out of it. You see out of your good eye that she is getting ready to fight you for slamming into her, she has her first cocked back but you beat her to it, you slam your closed fist right between her eyes and now, the hand that has been stepped on and now punched into someones skull-- sends fire to your brain. More new pain as you push yourself to your feet while still being all jostled around.

More small, soft, girly hands are on yours immediately pulling you out of the way. It’s one of the girls from the bathroom. She is all messed up too, her hair and make up. Missing one of her fake eyelashes. Over her shoulder you have just enough time to see Joel with his hand around the throat of some guy, you hope the one who hit you and is pinning him to the wooden bar. Joel’s other fist is cocked back and he sends it forward. You can’t watch but you can hear it. Hear his fist connecting with that guy’s face.

Fuck. Your face hurts real bad. Guy’s hands are on you but you already know they are not Joel’s so you start to push them off you angrily but Tommy’s voice is in your ear.

“Joel wants me to get you out of here.” Tommy is shouting over the commotion and noise and the screaming. It’s so loud. You’re still wincing as the guy Joel is holding to the bar starts to fight back. Tommy is leading you out of the bar through the fire exit and an alarm goes off but outside it’s finally… not chaos.

“Shit! You okay!?” Tommy takes your face in his hands and inspects your eye. There is a comfort behind his touch that brings tears to your eyes before he brings ones of pain to them!

“I’m fine. It just— shit! Don’t fuckin' touch it!” You snap at him when he runs his hand over whatever is causing you pain. He pulls his hand away and there is blood on his thumb. “Is that my blood?!” You exclaim and bring one hand to your eye and the pain is coming from high on your upper lid near the outer edge of your brow. Stinging, burning and dull throbbing. Blood on your fingers!! You don’t have your purse or phone or anything. It’s all inside. Your hurt eye is still stinging. So bad. You have blood in your eye and it hurts! So badly! Where is your boyfriend!? Why is his brother taking care of you!?

People come pouring out of the bar from every door. You and Tommy are looking for Joel for so long before he comes out of the bar… looking really angry. He’s got your bag, jacket and phone in his hand but he’s pointing at you accusingly shouting at you before he is even close enough for you to hear him but he keeps yelling until you can.

“Grow the fuck up!” He barks at you loudly. “Fightin’ at the bar? Really?!” He shouts at you and you’re so confused. As Joel gets closer, Tommy steps between the two of you like Joel… might do something if he didn’t.

“I wasn’t fighting!!” You shout back at him.

“I fuckin’ saw you!! Throwing fuckin’ fists! Ya fuckin’ serious!?” Joel is still pointing at you but over Tommy’s shoulder. Tommy keeps trying to talk to Joel who looks so fucking angry at you, but Joel keeps moving his head to see you. Joel has blood on his knuckles but his face is fucking fine so why is he yelling at you!? He was fighting too!

"You were fighting!! I saw you!!" You shout at him with more tears rolling down your face. Joel erupts-- pushing Tommy away, stumbling backwards until he regains his balance and get's between you and Joel again

"Beating up the fucker that pushed you!! For you to turn around and punch that fuckin' lady!" Joel screams at you. "She do that to you!? GOOD! S'whatchya get for fighting!"

“A guy punched me–” You sob as tears roll down your cheeks, trying to explain yourself but he doesn’t let you finish.

“Shut the fuck up! Grow—” Joel stops mid sentence and takes you in, really looks at you for the first time since he came outside. See's how badly you're beat “A guy hit you!? Who!? Which fuckin’ one!?.” Joel is twisting his head around looking for whoever did it to you.

“Duh!!!! You fucking asshole!” You shout at him. “I don’t know who did it!! I got fucking punched in the face!!” You’re screaming a little and storm off towards his truck. You hear a scuffle behind you and look over your shoulder and now Tommy and Joel are fighting. Tommy is trying to get Joel to give you a minute, or Joel himself a minute to cool down. Joel is not letting it happen, shoving his brother in the chest, talking shit– being an asshole. You don’t even care if they fight. Fuck this. You keep going towards the truck until you hear the sound no one wants to hear.

An expensive phone dropping on a hard surface. Pavement in this case. You close your eyes and keep walking because you already know it was yours and it’s probably broken and you can’t think about it. Won’t.You’re still sobbing as you get to Joel’s truck.

This night didn’t happen.

Your face says a different story in the side mirror of Joel's truck. There is evidence that it did happen. You’re black and blue on your right eye and have an inch long laceration right below your eyebrow. Bleeding. Dripping down the side of your face– which is numb– and down your chin and onto your pretty dress. Your hand is all black and blue. You inspect the back of your thigh and it is also, black and blue. With a red shoe print right In the middle. You sob softly against the car and just want Joel to take you home and never talk to you again.

The truck unlocks while you’re standing against the door. You open it before Joel has the chance to do it for you and climb in. You don’t even look at him when he gets in. He just sits next to you silently for so long. Feels like an hour of him just listening to you cry.

“I'm sorry. Jus' slipped outta my hand. I’ll getchya a new one tomorrow. Better one.” He murmurs softly. “N’ I’m sorry fer’ yelling at you. Tellin' ya t'shup up.” He reaches over the console now to touch your shoulder but you pull away, still crying. “I am sorry. I was just mad n’ all fuckin’.. I dunno. Just...”

“Just fuckin’ yellin' at me.” You sob. “I’m bleeding!” You turn to him and show him the blood on your face that he can clearly see. He nods and leans over the console to inspect it. You let him, let him touch your chin gently in his fingers to turn your head so you'll look at him. His other hand pulls the skin above your eyebrow up so he can inspect how deep the wound is. It hurts when he does that so you whimper and clench your eyes shut. He sucks his teeth softly and sadly.

“I’m gonna take you to the hospital. Y'need stitches.” he leans in and steals a gentle kiss before you can stop him, you honestly, don't even want to. "I am sorry. So sorry." He murmurs against your lips with desperation in his tone. He has your blood on his cheek when he pulls away– and you mindlessly wipe it off with your thumb, and then feel fucking stupid for caring about that when he didn't care to begin with. "I really am.” He starts the truck and drives towards the emergency room. You say nothing.

You need six stitches. Joel is driving you home two hours later in silence. You don’t even have a phone to look at. Smashed to fuck. Because your boyfriend is an asshole. Neither one of you say anything until he pulls into your driveway.

“So…I’m not leavin’...” Joel starts to explain, you try and argue with him but he narrows his eyes on yours and it silences you. “I had a lil plan fer’ tonight… n’ it looks like yer’ too mad at me for that to happen–” Joel is still talking but you don’t even really hear him. You speak over him. He keeps talking and you tune back into what he is saying. "--leavin'. I don't gotta sleep in yer' bed. I'll stay on the couch but we're talkin' 'bout this tomorrow. We have to. I gotta buy you a new phone..." He trails off shaking his head in shame for himself for acting the way he did.

“You were gonna… fuck me tonight?” You scoff and squint your eye at him. The other one is a lil swollen. Joel nods and shrugs his shoulders.

“I thought it’d be fun, have a couple drinks… loosen up a lil. Fuck you all night. 'Cause I know ya really want it. Yer' excited for it. Not nervous n' shy.” Joel looks down at his hands as he speaks.

“That an excuse to get you inside?” You ask softly. Joel shakes his head.

“I been knew we were gon’ do this tonight. Couple days ago-- when we decided to have you meet Tommy.” Joel chuckles. “Fuckin’ shoulda just done it a long time ago.” He scoffs softly like he is annoyed with himself. “Was gon’ have you wear that lil white thang I got you. Was gonna fuckin'... defile you in that thang.” He turns his head to look at you and frowns. “I don’t wanna leave, Bird. I wanna talk 'bout it. Don't gotta do nothin'. Talk in the mornin'?” He pleads with you softly and quietly.

“I don't need to talk about it. I have one thing to say." You look at him with the most honest, and innocent eyes you have because you are. You're a nice girl who doesn't fight at the bar. You want to be a good girl for him but, not if this is the kind of person he's going to be to you. "If you ever yell at me like that again…you’ll never get a chance to apologize for it. I mean it.” You snap at him and open the door to his truck and jump down. Your door isn’t even shut before Joel is beside you. He lets you lead him to the front door and watches you unlock it, his hands on your waist.

“I’m sorry. I'll be better. I will.” Joel whispers in to your ear as he trawls his hands along your sides and over your stomach. Once the door is open, the front of one of his thighs press against the backs yours and he pushes your leg into the house slowly, and then does it with the other as he walks you into the entryway. “Sorry.” He whispers once more against the nape of your neck as his hands roam across the front of you.

“I know.” You lean back against his chest and now he pulls you into him, kissing your skin softly. “I’m still mad though!” You pull away from him but he holds you against him and speaks quickly to stop your pushing and fighting hands on his arms around you.

“You should be.” It's spoken firmly against the crook of your neck and makes you stop fighting him. “I get.. I dunno– seein' you get pushed by that guy... I got fuckin' scared. N' then I turn around n' see you fighting? I got mad. Like an asshole-- I say shit I don’t mean.” He sounds ashamed.

“S’why your wife left?” You ask sharply and are not even scared because if he gets mad again, he can fuckin’ leave.

“Partially.” Joel sighs. “She was just as bad, Bird.” Joel holds his arms out from behind you and twists them in each direction so you can see all those scars. “Not from workin’.” Joel kisses your neck again and his warm breath feels staggered like he is nervous to be talkin’.

“She did this to you?” You whisper quietly in shock.

“Fer’ three fuckin’ years.” He groans and then pulls his arms away. “I hate talkin’ ‘bout it, don’t fuckin’ wanna, really. What else you wanna know?” Joel sighs softly from behind you.

“You ever hit her back?” You’re not sure you wanna know, but you kind of need to know.

“Once.” Joel whispers and his body is gone from behind yours. You turn and he’s leaning against the front door with the heels of his hands pressed into his eyes. “Fuckin’... the night ‘fore she took off. We were fightin’, n’ she just wouldn’t let up.” He doesn’t remove his hands, sounds angry to be talking about it and is starting to speak a little more aggressively. “Non stop. All night. Scratchin’, wailin’ on me somethin’ fuckin’ terrible. Callin’ me a bad dad– been a dad for two weeks mind you, workin’ my ass off day in n’ out for those that lil girl n' that bitch who fuckin' hit me.” Joel finally rips his hands away from his eyes and is shaking his head, with an angry smile on his face. “I fuckin’ just… I dunno, lil tap on her mouth-- t’ shut her up. After three fuckin’ years of puttin’ up with it.” Joel tosses his hands in the air and puts his hand on the doorknob.

“Don’t go–” You try and stop him even though you are still mad at him. Those patterned scars on his arms? Her fucking fingernails and that's heartbreaking. Makes you so fucking sad that he put up with that for so long because he just wanted to be a dad.

“I need a fuckin' minute—” He says sharply. “I'm not takin’ my bullshit out on you– again.” Then he opens the door, steps out onto the porch and shuts the door behind him.

What the hell is going on?

You go to the basement because, poor Joel. Your battered and beaten– That fuckin’ bitch of an ex-wife of his better hope you never have to meet her. You’ll put your hands on her in ways Joel couldn’t. Sure fuckin’ will. You’re so mad thinking about it while you change out of your bloody dress and into that lil white lace thing Joel got you.

You’re losing your virginity tonight. You don’t care what he says or if he wants to (you’re not gonna do that), you also don’t care that you have a black eye and a laceration with stitches. No. You’re going to fuck your boyfriend and make him less sad for having a terrible ex-wife that he— You gasp audibly even though no one is around to hear– thankfully. Joel is going to have to see her at his daughter's wedding. Stupid, man beatin’ bitch. Joel should have just left but… you’ve never been in an abusive relationship. So…you have no room to talk. You are going to fuck him. You're partially a little mad at him, mostly feel kinda bad that his wife used to hit him. Want him to remember how good n' tight your pussy is if he ever sees her again and gets sucked back into whatever bullshit she was dishing out that kept him around for so long.

You're gonna do your damnedest to seduce your boyfriend and get him to fuck you. You need it more than he does honestly. You got punched in the face--- fuuck. Your PHONE!? You cannot even think about it because you'll lose all sense of feeling bad for him and go out there and spit on him not nicely. Okay. Sex with Joel.

You’ll just be there for him if and when he comes inside to see you ready in bed. Splayed out so he can fucking use you if he needs to. You don't care. You cleaned up all the blood and honestly…ya don’t look half bad. You look sexy as hell in that lil white thang and your black eye. He won’t be able to resist. If he ever comes inside…he’s been out there for so long.

It’s hard to not go inspecting when he’s out there for a half hour. Just sitting on one of the chairs on the porch. You could go outside. Sam and Cody’s house faces a giant field and has no neighbors across from them and it’s late. You’re fuckin’ in your lil white thing. Shit. Fuck. Doesn’t matter. He is your boyfriend and he is sad. You open the door and take a deep breath, getting ready to be almost naked outside.

“Hi.” You stand with your feet together after you step out and turn to him. He doesn’t look up at you, just stares at his hands.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He grumbles to himself. “I just feel like an ass.” He still doesn’t look up.

“I know. You should for what happened at the bar. But, we can talk another time about it. Come inside with me.” You feel like an ass to for being out here like this. Cody and Sam…have neighbors on either side of their house…so someone could fuckin’ see you.

“I need another minute, babe. I'm so--” Joel turns his head to look at you and stops mid-sentence. “Woah.” He sighs softly. “Yer' like a pretty lil angel.” Joel smirks and his eyes trace every voluptuous curve of your body before his eyes find yours. “You want Daddy t’fuck you tonight– all night? S'why you put that on? For me?” He asks softly, turning his body in the chair, resting one elbow on the armrest.

“Yes, Daddy.” You nod at him and he pushes himself out of the chair.

“Where you want it?” He growls softly. “Out here?” Joel raises one eyebrow and you freeze in fear and start to panic but Joel smirks and takes three steps so he can be in front of you, turning you so your back is to the front door. “Get yer’ ass in that bed, right now.” His kisses are long and desperate as your hand searches for the doorknob that is somewhere on the door behind you. He finds it for you and leads you inside, downstairs and to the bed.

There is a trail of his clothes from the front door to where he has you now. On your bed. Naked between your legs. Both of you are quivering and searching endlessly for more air as you’re reduced to a puddle as he slides his length over your cunt through that little triangle of white fabric that separates the two of you.

“Might hurt a lil.” Joel whispers down to you as he rolls his hips into yours softly. He’s been doing this as he kisses you, teasing you with nibbling bottom lip kisses and naughty words for several minutes and now he’s is like hot steel between your legs. “I’m sorry if it does hurt at all. Imma go slow the first time as long as y’need me to.” He whispers as just the tips of your noses touch softly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah..” You’re so fucking nervous and excited and feel like you’ll never catch your breath again.

“I like bein’ this close to ya, but…I gotta watch.” Joel kisses you softly and leans back so he can look between your two bodies that meet right in the center. “Fuuuck.” Joel whispers to only himself as he grinds himself into you. “You wanna keep that sexy lil thong on? Don’t care?” Joel flicks his eyes up to yours as one of his strong hands slips into the delicate string on the side.

“You gonna rip it?” You ask with a smirk. He nods silently. “Do it.” Joel purses his lips together and yanks the elastic from the triangle of fabric and then does the same thing with the other side- discarding it on the floor.

Joel seems just as nervous as you as he wraps one fist around his throbbing length. He strokes himself a couple times as he kneels in front of you. It’s already so hard and… so big. Fuck. Okay. You got this. He’s not doing anything. Just looking at your pussy and his cock he’s stroking right above it. He’s breathing just as heavy as you are.

“Ready?” Joel flicks his eyes up to yours and you nod. “Gimmie.” Joel taps your hips with his hand and you push your hips up as he reaches forward and grabs two pillows and puts them under your hips. When you set them down, you’re angled up to him. “Perfect.”

The tip of his cock is so much hotter than you could have ever expected him to be. So fucking hot, it’s like it’s burning you as he traces the outside of your cunt with it. You’re staring at him– watching his cock tease your pussy and you cannot help but wonder who he is teasing more. Himself or you?

“Fuck me, Daddy.” You whine softly, batting your eyelashes. Joel’s eyes flick up to yours and they are dark and a little scary and he’s got his brows pinched together softly.

“Shut up, lil brat. Daddy’s doin’ something.” He growls at you, the one hand on your outer thigh strokes you gently and comfortingly as he speaks. Doesn’t grip you or spank you at all. He drops his eyes back down to your dripping center and he sighs softly. “M'Fuckin’...lookin at it. Shut th'fuck up.” He sighs much softer now as he pushes the head of his cock between your folds to drag it up and down the length of your slit.

“You shut up.” You coo up to him softly, biting your bottom lip. Joel smirks, snorts softly and looks up at you.

“You like bein’ a lil bratty, bitch?" Joel hisses this question at you angrily, "'Cause this old man fuckin’ loves it.” He smirks, leans down to kiss your forehead before pulling away to watch as he continues to torture you. “Fuckin’ tellin’ me t’shut up. Who’re you? A lil bitch.” Joel speaks softly as the tip of him reaches the entrance. “Fuuuck. Fuck. Okay. Ready? I’m gon’ go slow.” Joel’s eyes can’t leave where you two are about to be joined, honestly, neither can yours.

“Yeah, please. Put it in me.” You whisper softly and make Joel sigh softly.

“Say that again.” He demands quietly.

“Put it in me, Daddy. Please.” Your voice is trembling like you might fucking cry from the anticipation of all of this. Been almost close to two months of teasing and licking and fingers. You didn’t even use those toys he got you…not yet. You will. You didn’t want to put anything inside of you before him.

Joel says nothing as he pushes the tip inside of you. That’s not bad. It goes in with no resistance. He pushes in a little further and there is stretching. A lot of it. Stretching you full. So tight. You close your eyes and let your head fall back. You breathe through that pinching and uncomfortable rasping— pulling inside of you. Pulling you apart. Your pussy was leaking and made it so easy for him to slip into you though, you didn’t resist him, your cunt accept him happily but it still was so full.

You’re reduced to whimpering through your nose at the new mix of pleasure as the length of him slides across your spongy, raised patch for the first time. It’s…incredible. Fingers are awesome, and toys are cool.

Joel’s cock is so unyielding, so fucking rigid and hot as it’s stretching you, but when it snakes across that good spot– it’s like silk, smooth and comforting asthe tip of him, or anything ever, kisses your cervix for the first time. It’s a jolt that snaps your eyes open and makes you squeak. Joel’s eyes snap up to yours as his dark patch of pubic hair and the patch right above your slit intermingle as he sinks into you.

“Lil squeakin’ baby okay?” God the way he fucking talks to you should piss you off. It should make you so fucking mad. You should make him get off of you but you do not because you love it. Joel holds his hips into yours, pressed tightly against you as you adjust to him. Your muscles and walls are clenching and unclenching around him as he delays his pleasure for your comfort. Joel likes it though, you keep doing it even after your cunt stops doing it involuntarily. The tempo change in your squeezing him makes him pull back out of you slowly.

How can someone be so incredibly soft and hard all at the same time? His whole body. All of it. Soft n’ hard. Fuck. You’re staring up at him while he watches the entire length of him reappear from the interior of you. You see it, your slickness on him, it’s fucking glistening on the throbbing veins and almost purple skin of him.

“Jesus.” You sigh softly as he pulls everything but the tip from inside you.

“Fuckin’ tight as hell. Holy shit.” Joel gasps like he had been holding his breath. You sigh and then are reduced to nothing but a moaning mess on the bed as he starts to thrust into you rhythmically. It’s slow and soft. Gentle as to not make you squeak too much, only a little. Your eyes are closed, he’s not telling you to open them. He is leaning over to take on your nipples in his mouth through the sheer, white lace of the bra. He wraps his lips around as much of your breast as he can, sucking it gently as his tongue laps and swirls around your sensitive peak.

“Oh fu–uck! You can only speak harshly as that mix of pleasure and pain start to mix differently. More stretching and dull aching as his cock moves inside of you– but it’s not as intense or nearly as bad now that you have something constantly moving against that fucking spot. Fuck. He feels so good and warm– hot. He is red, hot steel under the satin, smooth skin of his throbbing dick. “Jeeeesus. Fuck ”

“You like this hard dick Daddy’s givin’ you?” He barks down to you softly, snaps it out of his mouth like you aren’t a melting mess below him. “Yeah you fuckin’ do, sexy fuckin’ brat.” Joel chuckles as a groan escapes his mouth.

“Y-you like this– fuck– tight pussy– fuuucking god— your lil girl’s givin’ you?” You part choke the words out and then moan some of them. You’re interuppted with bliss as you try and use your voice for him.

“My fuckin’ god.” Joel’s hips snap into yours— on accident or on purpose you’ll never know– but it feels like all of your bones buzzed all at the same time and every inch of your skin tickles for two seconds until he’s pulling himself away from your cervix and massaging that spot that’ll make you gush on him. You wonder in your euphoria filled brain if he’ll like that– you gushing on him like that and clench your walls down on him even tighter than you thought you could.

Joel’s whole body jerks gently when you do that and he snaps himself forward again and buzzes your bones and tickles your skin again and it’s… not a terrible feeling. Definitely knew and something you’d have to get used to because when he does it you cannot think for a second after but when you regain your senses he’s already buzzin’ you again with the drooling tip of his cock. You want him to come inside you. Badly. You’ll be fine. It’s the twenty-first century. Emergency contraception works. But then you’re going on the pill so he can do it whenever the fuck he wants.

“Come in…side me.” Your drawn out whimpering moan makes Joan groan loudly and he is trembling under your touch. You don’t even remember grabbing onto his biceps but you did, sometime during the buzzing you assume. Your fingernails are digging into him and you feel bad, so badly after knowing what you do, but he’s pumping into you quicker now.

“Dear God.” Joel groans and closes his eyes tight. It feels so good making him do stuff like that. Hearing him moan your little pet name he made up for you. “You want it, Birdie?” His moans are deep and rumble like thunder when they come out of him. You can feel the vibrations from them in his arms.

“Yeah… I want it…..Claim my pussy….I’m yours Daddy.” You’re keening the words up to him between gasps for air. Where did these high pitched sounds come from? You have never made such noises in your life…not even alone!! He is pushing them out of you as he thrusts inside of you but his sweating body is still trembling, like he is struggling… You think he wants to come, so you try and get him to. “Please Daddy…I beeee-oh fuck– I belong to you.” You whimper as he buzzes you once again.

“How ya feelin’ Bird?” Joel groans and lets his head fall forward like he is exhausted. “Hu–Hurtin’ still?” He stutters as he withdraws from you slowly.

“N-nononoo.” You whimper as he thrusts into once more and then holds himself against that blinding, body vibrating stop deep inside you. You’re silenced by this and staring up at him as he tilts his head up to look at you.

“I gotta…” Joel hangs his head in shakes it in shame, panting softly. “I can’t anymore.” He is still panting and looking up at you again.

“S-So c-come.” You stutter up to him as body and mind melting tremors course through you.

“Not talkin’ ‘bout comin’ Birdie.” He adjusts his hands on the bed and rests for a second, wiping his sweat covered brow with the back of one of his hands. “Gotta while ‘fore I do that now…” He’s grinning down at you, his chest– also dripping sweat– is rising and falling as he tries to slow his puffing. “I gotta fuck ya.” He nods.

“You are?” You can think… a little bit. Not much.

“No. We’re makin’ love right now.” Joel admits with another shake of his head from side to side. “I wanna fuck you.” Joel nods now, up and down, quickly. “If ya can’t handle it… might gotta take a lil break.” He sighs. “Havin’ trouble controlin’ myself… don’t wanna hurt ya.” He sighs loudy and then hoots like he just has energy and sound inside of him he needs to expel.

“Like… fuck me real hard?” You dunno. The buzzing. The buzzing is not terrible but it is a lot and he is still doing it right now. Pressing on that little button that lets you know he has arrived at your most inner location.

“I’ll hold back a lil.” He reassures you but then adds. “Just gotta go harder’n this.” Joel sighs like he is disappointed with himself for having those needs inside of him but it’s kind of turning you on that he can’t control himself with you. Needs to take a break!? He is taking a break right now!

“You’ll stop–”

“Baaaaby.” Joel groans. “Don’t gotta ask. Of course.” He nods quickly. “Never fuckin’ hurt you. ‘Less you ask for it.” Joel snickers. “Then I will.” The tremors are turning into little itchy scratchies inside of you and not so much tickles and vibrations and alarms going off all over your whole body. No, this isn’t too bad.

“Okay. Fuck me, Old man.” You nod up to him and Joel snickers to himself and leans all the way back so he is on his knees, holding you where your thighs meet your sides at your hip. Your legs are splayed out on either side of him.

“You just give me a good whack right here–” Joel points to his forearm. “A good one. Don’t grab me, don’t tap. Whack me. I’ll stop n’ we can do it the other way.” He speaks firmly so you’re listing. You’re trying but, still twitching underneath him. He pulls his hips away from yours and you can relax. A deep sigh and almost– a feeling of being empty. Like you’re gaping now that he’s only at the entrance. “Whaddya got’a do?” Joel asks now, catching your watering eyes.

“Whack.” You choke out after swallowing in a big, noisy gulp. You make Joel snort silently, just his body jerks softly and he smiles.

“Yer’ pussy is fuckin immaculate, baby girl.” Joel sighs loudly and sinks his hips into yours. Your pubic hairs touch softly before he pulls away and then slams into you with a loud smack of his skin on your skin.

“Jesus!” You exclaim but do not whack him because your whole body jolts back away from but then he is pulling you by where he has a grip dug into the soft skin on your lower sides where they dip into your leg. Another second long convulsion and flesh rippling titillation. Then another and another. More. It is endless. “Oh my go– Oh. Oh. Daddyyy.” You whine up to him with your eyes shut tight– your one eye hurts so bad but you do not care, the pleasure is everything you wanted it to be. This is amazing and perfect and you’re so glad it’s Joel. So glad he is the one doing this to you for the first time. “Th-Thank y-you.” You whimper as he really fucks you, his hips never slow down. Never cease their forceful driving into you.

“Thank me again.” Joel barks an order to you through his pleasure. There is more sweat on his brow and he wipes it away with the back of his hand again and then grips you tighter. His chest is red and glistening as he focuses all of his energy and force on you. Right where your groins adjoin for half a second before he leaves and does it all over again.

“Thank y-you Daddy Joel, fuck! Thank youthankyouu!!” There are tears in your eyes from the bumbling rapture inside of you. They’re rolling down the side of your face and…you might…be sobbing through your shrill, endless ululations as you tell him you’re coming. “It’s happening…. OH god… fuck Daddy… I’m gonna— I’m coming.”

“Open yer’ fuckin’ eyes, lil girl.” Joel snaps down at you. “Open yer’ mouth.” You don’t even have to open your eyes to know that his mouth is pressed tightly together when he barks down at you. You manage to open them and look up into his eyes as your orgasm washes over you. You don’t even have to open your mouth because it is already hanging agape, waiting for him and what he loves to give you.

It’s warm on your tongue and upper lip when you receive it both times. He doesn’t spit it this time, he drips it down to you as he slams his body against yours through your orgasm. You swallow it hungrily and then lick your lips to clean off what he over shot the first time. You gush staring up at him and now his jaw drops open and his rhythmic thrusting turn into sloppy, jagged jerking as your gushing juices send him to ecstasy filled release.

“I’m gonna come,” Joel sighs breathlessly as his hips snap forward two more times and then he holds himself into you. “Fuck! S’mine. You're mine.” Joel nearly shouts down at you while he comes. Your gush flowing out against him as he does it. It’s dripping down the curve and crack of your ass and soaking the pillows below you. “Fuuck. Fuckk. Yer’ my gushin’ Princess.” Joel stutters once as he fills your pussy for the first time. “Daddy’s Princess.”

You do not fuck Joel all night. Your body gives out after that first good fuck. It’s disappointing but…Joel fucked the life out of you. You are dead against the mattress staring up at the ceiling. You honestly can’t even feel anything, your whole pussy is numb and it aches a little. He fucked you. Fucked you so good. He didn’t kill you with his cock, no…

Joel maybe ruined your life though, because how do you ever get fucked… not like that?

Get fucked by anyone who is not by Mr. Daddy Joel Miller? No.

He has done something horrible to you and now you want him to do more treacherous things to you. He might be evil , actually. This is what you get for praying to Satan all this time— as a JOKE . Then he sends you this evil man with a tongue that lashes at you in the best, and worst ways possible.

Your evil, sonofabitch boyfriend is moaning as he sucks his release out of your cunt, licking at your walls now that he has gaped you with his fucking monster cock– what the fuck? It didn’t look as big as it fucking felt inside you..

Joel is laying with his head between your legs. He’s been down there this whole time. Just… licking. It’s been… maybe forty-five minutes since he fucked you for the first time. His hands roam across your stomach and caress you gently. His tongue smears his come along your cunt and clit as he swirls around it. It’s the only part of your pussy that feels good anymore. Sucking and lapping at your dripping and gaping hole like he is desperately trying to get back what he gave to you.

“Ohhh.” Is all you have the energy to say. You can only hum a happy, pleasing sound to him and your hand lazily finds his hair and you twirl your fingers around in it mindlessly as he licks you. He’s not even trying to make you come, not even teasing you… just collecting. And once he has his mouth full, he climbs over your lifeless body and nods his chin for you to open your mouth. You do.

You stare at him the entire time he leans down and spits into your mouth, not letting you do anything before his mouth is on yours. The mix of your gush and his bitter release does something to give you life. You wrap your arms around his neck and hold him to you as your tongues pass that blend of the both of you back and forth.

Once you're done with all that– you’re looking at him standing at the edge of your bed. You still haven’t moved. Haven’t been able to.

“We’re good?” Joel asks seriously.

“What?” You close your eyes and try to imagine an ice pack on your pussy.

“You still wanna be with me?” Joel sounds nervous. You cannot even open your eyes to look at that stupid slut.

“Yes.” You snap at him sleepily. “Shut up. You’re the slut.” You point one, almost ded hand at him.

“What!?” Joel sounds so shocked. “I’m not!” Now he’s offended. You do open your eyes and look at him now.

“You’re the slut.” You bark at him and then close your eyes again and talk mostly to yourself. “Fucks like that n’ says he’s not a slut? Fuckin’ lair.” You grumble and roll over onto your side. “Slutty old man.” You are so tired.

“Because I’ve been with a couple ladies??” Joel exclaims and crawls onto the bed beside you. “I’m not a slut.”

“You are. Callin’ me a slut the first time we hung out. Mr. I Been With Ladies.” You mock him and he chuckles but it sounds like he didn’t really want to.

“I only been with you since I met ya. Didn’t give my number out.” Joel teases you back and touches your sides.

“You’re still a slut and we’re talking in the morning about why you didn’t just leave your ex-wife.” You snap, remembering that you are still actually kind of angry with him.

“Uuuggghhh.” Joel groans loudly. “I’ll fuckin’ tell ya right now. Then we’re never talkin’ ‘bout her ass again, got it?” He snaps at you.

“Dish.” You snap back.

“We got married ‘fore I started my company. I was worried she was gon’ try an’ take all of it. Bankrupt me. Take my house. Eventually– I was worried she’d leave with Sarah. So I just let her hit me.” Joel is… not yelling but he is– excited? Speaking quickly and with gusto. “I was too embarrassed to ask for help, Birdie... Who could help me? Who was I gon’ fuckin' ask? My mom is dead. My dad should'a been, at that point. Tommy is just barely done bein’ a kid… so? I stayed. N’ I fucked up.”

“I’m sorry.” You whisper shyly.

“Don’t fuckin’ be sorry fer' me, you didn’t fuckin' do shit!” Joel exclaims and then his eyes soften. “I’m sorry. I get loud when I’m angry, I’ll work on that shit too. Jesus Christ.” Joel looks at the floor. “No one knows ‘bout my ex. Just her and I. I never told anyone else. Not even Tommy or Sarah.” Joel turns his head to look at you. “Like to keep it that way.”

“Why…not tell people what she did? So they know?” You wrinkle your nose.

“‘Cause then they’ll know I did it to her. N’ all they’ll see is me… hittin’ his wife. Even though it was only once n’ barely a tap– I did it. I hit her, n’ I hate myself fer’ that.” He admits sadly. “Our dad was fucked up towards the end, but he raised us better than that.”

“What…was wrong with—” You start but Joel shakes his head.

“Not gettin’ into that… not now. Maybe not ever. It just wasn’t good. Real bad. He struggled.” Joel says curtly.

“Alright… I also had an asshole dad, too—” You start but he cuts you off quickly and with a sharp tongue

“My dad wasn’t a fuckin’ asshole, got it?” Joel narrows his eyes on yours. “Not an asshole. I can’t talk ‘bout it, Bird. I don’t like to.”

“I don’t like talking about my Dad but it fuckin’ helps.” You roll your eyes at him. “Not keepin’ all that shit in…kinda fucking helps sometimes. So, maybe you should go see a therapist. I talk to one all the time.”

“I’m not goin’ to see no fuckin’ shrink.” Joel scoffs again. He's such a fucking man. Ugh.

“Whatever. You don’t have to, but it does help and it is good for you. I meant what I said last night… I won’t let you aplogize next time if you ever speak to me like that again…”

“I know… but now we gotta talk ‘bout something else…” Joel sighs and turns to you. "I was gonna bring it up...n' then you said you were a virgin...n' I thought I was gon' scare you away if I told you the things I like...'cause I don't need 'em. Not at all. I just like 'em...and they're not all...nice." He speaks cautiously-- the taming a rabid animal voice is back and you're shaking.

“What?” You groan but he places his hand on your thigh besides your bruised hand. You almost pull away but it's hard to resist the warmth of him. He's...so handsome. His brown eyes are locked on to yours, his hair is all messy from getting pulled and tugged on by you-- it's sticking in all directions and you have to stop yourself from smirking. He didn't clean up his facial hair at all this morning before work, so he's scruffier than normal. You could reach out and touch him, but it's hard because he's going to tell you scary things right now.

“The things I like can get a lil…” He pauses and searches for the word he needs to use. “Bein’ on the receiving end of what I like can fuck with yer’ head sometimes… if you don’t know yer’ cared for or get mistreated. I do care ‘bout ya. N' I'm sorry 'bout last night.” Joel stresses this point.

“Okay…” You’re hesitant because what the fuck is your slutty, evil boyfriend talking about. Are you going to have to kick him in the chest like Jackie Harris that one time? Break up with him?

“I like ya more n’ more every day– but I am jus’ a big, strong guy that wants to Dominate ya.”

“Like you have been?” You ask and Joel nods, adding to your statement.

“N’ then I wanna take ya out… treat ya — ‘cause I can and like to … I call ya sweet things so you know that when I say that— eh, it’s not a show..or fake. I like makin’ you feel all cute n’ special– cause you are, but also ‘cause s’just what I like…”

“Uh… then what?” You blink and swallow audibly.

“I turn ‘round n’ humiliate you while my cocks inside you.” Joel says simply. “Make you feel naughty n’ dirty. Use yer’ lil fuckin’ pussy however I want, use you. Be real mean to ya sometimes…”

“This is an excuse so you can yell at me?” You roll your eyes and almost think about telling him to leave but he rubs the outside of his pinky against yours.

“Never. I’m gon’ work on that. I will. Gettin’ angry n’ sayin’ mean shit. I will.” Joel speaks so calmly and evenly. “I just wanna call ya names in the bedroom. Do naughty stuff in there… sometimes let it playfully carry into our relationship too”

“Like? I need you to expla—” Joel hooks his pinky with yours and looks down at it.

“Remember my promise to you?” He asks quietly. You nod. “Keep that in mind n’ know… that’s how I wanna treat you ninety-nine percent of the time.”

“The other one perce--?” You ask fearfully but he cuts you off and is ready to tell you.

“Call you terrible fuckin' things, worthless n’ stupid.” Joel whispers softly. “Spit on ya. Fuck you real hard n’ fill your holes– all of ‘em.” His eyes never leave yours. “Fuck you anywhere…everywhere I want.” Joel is still so calm.

You’re fuckin’ trembling. This sounds..equal parts horrifying and also incredible. Sexy and scary. Right up your alley— dark and horrifying alley.

“What if I don’t want that? Getting called fuckin’ stupid every day?” You wrinkle your nose. That sounds like it could be... tiring? Mentally? But, you're not stupid and...have a therapist. So, this is something you might explore but... you dunno.

“Don’t gotta. We can just keep doin’ what we’re doin’. I'm used to it bein' normal." Joel shrugs his shoulders. "I enjoy this though. Don't need it-- like it. Like exploring. Like pushin' mine and yer' boundaries... s'kinky." Joel nods then frowns "I haven't been with many who like it-- s'why I'm used to it normal, lil rough. Nothin' craz--"

“Slut!” You snap, cutting him off and Joel snickers softly.

“Maybe… not anymore though.” He smirks. “I just wanna fuckin’ ruin you, baby girl. Only you.” Joel Miller whispers this to you and your pussy (you thought it was broken, really broken) twinges when he says it. “I mean it. I like it rough…but if you’d let me. I’d like to… try things with ya. Keep showin' you things like I have been.”

“What if I don’t like some of the things you show me?” Your interest outweighs your fear.

“‘Kay, now yer’ asking good questions…” He smirks at you and pulls your hand into his lap by your pinky. “Yer’ in control in all this, babe.” He nods. “You don’t like it, I stop. I like watchin’ ya squirm n’ cry… but for the right reasons. I don’t wanna…really hurt you— I do. I wanna spank ya and whip yer’ ass ‘till its red. Smack ya a ‘round a lil…fuck you real good when I do it. Make ya feel good, give you pleasure with yer' pain, baby.” His voice is so comforting that it’s calming even listening talk about he wants to mildly abuse you in the bedroom.

“I have to decide right now?” You blink at him.

“You..don’t ever gotta decide nothin’. I like that shit, but I’m not gon’ die without it. I'm just warnin’ ya so I don’t take things too far…on accident or… in misunderstanding.” He leans in and kisses you on the forehead gently.

“Okay… we can talk about things first, always?” You look up at him and he’s already nodding his head.

“Do you wanna change outta that lil white thang and go to bed? We’ll getcha coffee and a new phone in the morning?” He whispers.

“Yeah.”

Then Joel undresses you and gives you the comfiest pair of shorts out of your dresser. Then this stupid, evil Red Devil goes into his ‘spend the night bag’ and gets you a clean t-shirt of his to wear.

“I have some…” You whisper up to him, but he motions for you to lift your arms and he slips it on for you.

“I know. Don’t care– want you in this.” He leans down and kisses your lips softly and for a long time before he runs upstairs and performs his little night time routine here at your house. Checking all the doors and windows.

Joel is…actually perfect? No. He’s angry and is a dick and is making up for that. Unless you already forgave him? You dunno. You honestly can’t even care because you’re asleep before Joel even comes back.

The next morning is interesting. It takes a lot of convincing from your boyfriend.

“Just for me.” He nods. You shake your head. “My. Eyes. Only.” He nods.

“Why?” You’re smirking.

“Picture it, okay?” Joel stands besides you and holds his hand out in front of him like he’s trying to get you to see what he’s seeing. “Me…in my truck at work…watchin’ it..thinkin’ ‘bout you… touching mysel—”

“You do that at work!?” You exclaim. He chuckles and smacks your ass.

“Uh, if I had this yes– I would.” He is already getting his phone out of his jeans from last night.

“No one’s gonna see it?” You blink at him. Joel scoffs.

“I’m not sharin’ this with anyone. You fuckin’ nuts?” He pulls a chair up to the end of the bed and messes around with his phone. ‘S’fer me. Me alone.”

Now, Joel is laying in bed with you. He’s behind you with your back to his chest. Your legs are spread over his and his hard cock is pressed against your back. You're grinding yourself against him, massaging his cock between your bodies as his fingers work on your clit.

“You like this naughty shit?” he asks softly in your ear. You nod and can only focus on breathing heavily, trying not to look directly into his phone that he set up on a chair at the end of the bed. “Say it.” He growls in your ear. His two thickest and longest fingers are just circling your clit slowly and lazily.

“I like being naughty, Daddy.” You mewl quietly. Joel’s other hand is gripping one of your tits and thumbing the stiff peak as he rocks his hips up against you gently, moving his body against yours as you drag your body up and down against his slightly. Just an inch or two in each direction. Giving Joel just enough pressure and friction and movement on his throbbing cock between your ass and on your lower back.

“You like that I need this?” Joel growls, moving his head to the other side of yours now, kissing across your shoulder and up your neck as your sweating bodies glide across each other. “ Gotta have you like this in my pocket, lil girl.” Joel whispers. “So I can see this pretty pussy.” While Joel speaks rubs all four fingers across your cunt slowly.

“I love it.” You moan softly.

“You want Daddy to give your pussy a good slap?” He coos in your ear. Honestly, not really. But, you’re going to let him do whatever he wants to you.

“Please don’t hurt me, Daddy.” You whine nervously. Is he gonna smack it like he did your ass? Joel’s breath hitches in his chest and you feel it happen behind you. His hips buck up into your back gently. “Slap it soft. ” You whisper. Joel sighs and rubs your clit quickly with his four stiff fingers– so quickly. He’s putting so much effort into it, his body stiffens below yours and he leans forward slightly to put more pressure behind his rubbing.

You are moaning and writhing, eyes closed as he quickly brings you right to that edge. When you’re almost there he pulls his hand away and swiftly brings them down onto your red, slick and puffy cunt lips. It focuses it to the top of your mound where your nerve bundle is. It is a different sensation. The hard, fast, sudden pressure and shock of the slap on your clit makes you moan, it doesn't even hurt at all.

“Do it again, Daddy.” You press yourself into him and turn your head so your closed eyes are pressed into his neck as he leans over you the best he can.

“Awhh, the cute, pathetic, lil girl likes gettin’ her pussy slapped? Course you do, ya naughty lil bitch.” Joel laughs softly. "Look at the camera, talk to it." He growls into your ear and gives your mound another soft smack and it’s wet and audible. You turn your head forward and rest it against his shoulder as he lens in and presses his lips to your cheek, kissing you softly. Then he gives you another tight rasp on your pussy. And another. He’s doing it so rapidly, slapping and swatting your clit and not hard enough to hurt, it’s…so good? So fucking good for some reason. Joel and you are still working together, your glistening bodies sliding and slipping against each other.

“Fuck. I do like it.” You murmur to the camera, your eyes are still clenched and now, you're rocking your hips up to meet his quick, noisy— more than patting but he’s not spanking your cunt like he did last night. The force all comes from his wrist, not his shoulder. It’s incredible and almost reminds you of his shower head but not as wet or warm. Joel growls softly against your cheek and presses his forehead to the side of your skull with slight force.

"Louder. I wanna hear it." He snaps softly into the soft skin just below your cheekbone. He is grinding up into your back. "I wanna hear you fuckin' say it. Mean it." It's so fierce when he says it, that it almost startles you but... you just talked about all this so you know it's...just a thing. Not mean, not scary.

"I fuckin' love when you spank my cunt, Daddy. So fuckin' much." You speak with force and it comes out in moans as he chuckles against your cheek and rubs your clit now in between those little, tight rasps of his fingers against you.

"There it is..." Joel kisses your cheek softly as his own moans start to slip from his mouth as he holds you around the waist with his other arm now, moving your body up and down against the front of him. You can feel his movements becoming more desperate as you stroke his cock with ever single move you make.

"Oh fuck...yes...please don't... stop.The light breeze he makes with his fingers gives you goosebumps on your inner thigh as your legs begin to tremble. “I think– oh god– I… think–” You’re cut off and choked by pleasure as that real bliss and ‘letting go’ feeling builds.

“Yep. Do it. Gush for Daddy, baby. I wanna see it.” Joel moans loudly as your body moves against him more desperately, searching for more than just his slapping fingers even though he is bringing you there doing that. “C’mon baby. Yer' such a naughty fuckin' girl. Such a pathetic, lil, gushin' girl.” He whispers in your ear. "Yer' fuckin' amazing." The fact that he wants a video of you doing that so he can watch whenever he wants is what sends you there– it’s what makes you gush.

He gets a clear shot of it happening as his abuse of your clit never ends. He spanks your pussy through your gush and sometimes his fingers slip down so he can touch it as it comes out of you. You’re still moving against him, now shaking and moaning loudly against his neck. You can feel his body working against yours for his own release and you push back against him to give him more pressure. When you do that, he groans softly and pulls his hand away from your spasming pussy. Then his fingers are inside your mouth.

“Suck.” He moans as his body jerks underneath yours. You lap at his fingers hungrily and taste yourself on him and moan softly. You part his digits with your tongue and run it down the length of each extremity in your mouth, swirling and lapping at his knuckles and then flicking your tongue against the web between his fingers. You’re doing this and Joel is coming between the two of you. His release is trapped between his stomach and your back. “Such a fuckin’ good girl.”

Joel sits you up and crawls from behind you and grabs his phone off the chair at the end of the bed. He sits beside you and starts to play the video.

“I don’t wanna watch that. It’s for you.” You roll your eyes as the sounds of your moaning and whimpering fill the room. It makes you blush as Joel teases his cock again, watching what you two just did. He gets halfway through it with a big dumb smile on his face before he turns it off and turns his smile to you now.

“Why? S’hot as hell. Jeeesus. Yer’ fuckin’ naughty n’ sexy. I like it.” Joel smirks and leans down to kiss you. “We’re makin’ more.” He teases.

“Fine. I like seeing you—” You point at his face and then to his stomach covered in his milky release. “-- smiling and covered in cum. So, fine.” You blush and he touches your cheek gently.

“I want to do the naughtiest things with you.” Joel whispers. You blink.

“Like what?” You pur up to him as he rubs his thumb across your lips gently.

“You’ll see.”

(sorry it took me so long, i'll try and be better.)

tag list: @immyowndefender @korikolove @untamedheart81 @fanficlover1414, @creepycorbeaux @ohmillerbaby @rosebuds-and-moonlight @harriedandharassed

#pedro pascal characters #joel miller x reader #smut #joel miller smut #long reads #no outbreak au

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bellaxgiornata · 2 days ago

Text

Want to Know You Better 1:|Bad Impressions

Pairing: Jax Teller x Fem!Reader Word Count: 4.3k [Series Masterlist] [Jax Teller Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+; investigative journalist!Reader, bodyguard!Jax, enemies to lovers, canon typical violence, canon divergence, eventual smut, slow burn, angst

summary: For over a year you had been tracking Aleksander Petrova through California–a Russian crime lord known to abduct sex workers for his trafficking ring. Seven months ago, he disappeared from the L.A. area, but a series of missing women in Northern California catches your attention, drawing you to Charming in the hopes of linking enough evidence together to once again get the FBI involved. But when the Sons’ President makes a terrible first impression before inserting himself into your work, your investigation turns into more than you anticipated.

a/n: I couldn't resist an enemies to lovers fic with Jax also determined to stubbornly be Readers' self-appointed bodyguard. I'm very much in the Jax mindset lately... Feedback and reblogs are appreciated!

tag list: @kmc1989

“Well, it has been a bit, man,” Happy agreed with Opie.

Jax took a pull off of his beer as the table of Sons around him broke into a fit of laughter at his expense. The thunderous noise of their amusement drowned out the classic rock playing in the bar they’d settled at tonight. For once they found themselves drinking somewhere other than at the clubhouse. Tonight, they were at The Alley, a dive bar in downtown Charming. Having just finished a meeting here with Marks, they had all collectively decided to stay and enjoy a few more rounds before heading back.

Jax rolled his eyes at the Sons’ teasing, not exactly taking their bullshit personally. They’d had a rough past few weeks and were just trying to unwind for the night. He knew that.

“Got nothin’ to say in your defense, Jackie boy?” Chibs asked, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Ya suddenly gone celibate?”

Swallowing down his beer, Jax shrugged as he lowered the bottle back to the table. A smug grin drew itself over his lips before he answered. “What can I say? I’ve just been busy,” he told the guys. “Pussy hasn’t exactly been top priority on my mind lately.”

A round of disbelief flew from around the table next, the noise only causing Jax’s grin to grow wider. It was true, though. He really hadn’t been concerning himself with getting laid over the past few weeks, too focused and stressed over club business to have even thought about it. He honestly had been so caught up in everything that he hadn’t even realized how long it had been since he’d last taken a girl to his bed.

“Maybe you’re losing your touch,” Bobby joked.

“Or you’re just going soft on us, Pres,” Tig quipped.

One of Jax’s brows arched up onto his forehead at that comment. Going soft? Now that was absolute bullshit.

“Don’t be a jackass,” Jax replied. “I’m not losing nothing, and I sure as shit have not gone soft, Tig.”

A glint of mischief surfaced in Tig’s eyes at Jax’s response. He leaned forward, resting his elbows along the table as a teasing grin slipped onto his face. “Oh no?” he questioned. “You haven’t? You…willing to make a bet on that, Jax?”

Jax settled back in his chair, his hands folding in front of himself as he studied the man. The entire table of Sons had fallen silent at Tig’s question, intrigue hanging thick between them all. Jax never backed down from a challenge, they all knew that.

“Yeah,” Jax answered easily. “I am. What do you have in mind, Tig?”

“Oh, shit,” Opie muttered with a chuckle, running a hand through his beard.

“Now this is getting good,” Chibs added, gesturing his beer at Tig. “Let’s hear it, brother.”

Tig straightened in his chair, his focus remaining fixed on Jax across the table from him. That mischievous glint in his eye hadn’t yet faded.

“Alright then, Jax. You wanna prove you haven’t gone soft on us? I bet you to get a girl from this bar onto the back of your bike and show her a good time in your bed before we’re finished here tonight,” Tig challenged. “And I’m clarifying that it’s gotta be a broad of our choosing, not yours. No easy pickings.”

A chorus of ‘ooh’ and ‘oh shit’ was muttered around the table as all of the Sons’ eyes darted between Jax and Tig as the bet was laid out. Jax didn’t look remotely fazed by it, though. Instead, he easily drew his beer up to his lips, finishing the last of it before he set the bottle back down on the table.

“You’re on,” Jax replied, a confident grin tugging at his lips. “I guarantee I can get any girl in here on my bike in fifteen minutes or less easily.” He jutted his chin at Tig before he continued, that cocky tone of his growing. “What do I get when I win?”

Tig took a moment, as if he was thinking about the answer, mulling it over for a minute. “Give you three hundred bucks,” he finally answered. “Plus, you get laid. But–” he held up a finger, that glint in his eyes still lingering, “–if you lose, we collectively get to think of some form of embarrassing punishment for you.”

That gave Jax pause for a moment, one hand running through the scruff along his chin. Not that he remotely doubted his ability to get a girl in his bed by any means, but the possibility that they might pick some chick that he somehow would not be able to charm didn’t sit well with him. Because he could only imagine what embarrassing ‘punishment’ the guys would love to force on him.

“You’re hesitating, Jax,” Bobby pointed out.

With a roll of his eyes, Jax sat forward in his chair. “Of course I’m in,” he accepted without another thought, the confidence returning. “This is going to be stupid easy anyway.”

“Aye, well,” Chibs said, shaking his head at his President. “Don’t forget, Jackie, the girls here are normal broads. Not the kind at the clubhouse. Or Diosa or the porn studio.”

Opie shook with silent laughter on the other side of Jax, one of his hands reaching out to lightly nudge his best friend. “That’s right,” he agreed. “These girls aren’t pre-warmed and ready for your advances, brother.”

“Doesn’t fucking matter,” Jax replied, waving the comment off. “Who the hell would say no to some time with this face?”

Another round of raucous laughter erupted from the table and Jax grinned wider at the sound. He had no doubt that he’d find a way to charm any woman the guys ultimately picked. Didn’t matter if she wasn’t a croweater, he’d find a way. He knew he was attractive and he had the confidence to go with it. He’d make it happen. There was no way in hell he’d lose the bet.

“Great,” Tig said, clapping his hands together before he turned away from the table. “Now to find a suspect.”

For a few minutes, Jax sat at the table as the Sons all began surveying the bar in search of a target for this bet. He listened as the men pointed out a few different options, hearing comments like ‘no, looks too willing’ or ‘doesn’t look remotely challenging enough’. He chuckled to himself, watching as all of his men kept talking amongst themselves until Tig eventually caught everyone’s attention.

“That one!” he exclaimed, gesturing a finger across the bar. “The one at the end of the bar there. Hunched over her phone. Didn’t even notice her at first.”

Jax shifted in his seat, trying to get a look at where all of the men were now focused. In the far corner of the room, almost too easy to miss, was indeed a woman hunched over her phone. She looked like she was concentrating on something, and judging by the way she was dressed, she wasn’t trying to capture the attention of anyone in the bar tonight. Jax was immediately thankful that he didn’t find her unattractive, either. If anything, he found himself pleased this was the woman they’d picked for the bet. He wouldn't mind her in his bed for a couple of hours tonight.

“She looks more like she’d slap Jax for approaching rather than sleep with him,” Bobby said with a laugh.

Tig shot a look over his shoulder at Bobby, a wicked grin on his face as he nodded his head in agreement. “I know, right? She’s perfect.”

“If anything,” Jax cut in, glancing back over at the woman, “she looks like she’d be thanking me for giving her a little stress relief. She looks a little too tightly wound.”

The table of Sons all returned their attention to Jax now, curious expressions adorning their faces. They were waiting to see if he would keep his word now that a woman had been chosen for the bet.

“Still think you got it in you to charm a girl like that?” Opie asked.

“Yeah, Jax,” Tig goaded. “You gonna call off the bet or what?”

“Fuck off,” Jax said as he rose from his chair, lightly slapping a hand onto the table. “No goddamn way I'm turning the bet down–or losing it. Let me show you boys how it’s done. I’ll have her on my bike and screaming my name in no time.”

Another round of laughter came from around the table, a few of the men wishing Jax good luck. Opie gave him a pat on the back as Jax walked away from the group, his gaze fixed on the unsuspecting woman at the far end of the bar.

This was going to be fun.

The dive bar you’d found yourself in for the evening smelled like mold and sweat–not unlike the shitty motel room you’d checked yourself into earlier today. And yet somehow it had still been rated the best of all the shitty motels in Charming.

Today had been long. You'd had a bit of a drive out to the small town of Charming from Red Ridge this morning–the city in which you lived just a little outside of San Francisco where your prestigious paper, the San Francisco Sun Times, was located. After briefly unpacking a few of your things in the motel you’d unfortunately have to call home for a bit, you'd hit the road again and began your investigation around the surrounding area.

Aleksander Petrova was your great white whale. You’d been chasing him for well over a year now, and you’d almost led the FBI straight to him seven months ago, but some sort of information leak had given the bastard a chance to disappear into thin air before they’d had an opportunity for an arrest. He’d been right there operating just outside of Los Angeles for months and you’d been linking missing woman after missing woman together, discovering a pattern in which he’d targeted female sex workers specifically. Whether his men abducted them from the street, underground brothels, or strip clubs, you’d grown familiar with how he targeted them. But then his ass had disappeared into the wind.

Until recently.

Which was why you’d landed yourself in Northern California now. You had caught the familiar pattern in the unreported missing women cases in the area that had been occurring for the past few months. You were positive it was Petrova. But due to his reach and wealth, and the fact that most of society didn’t bat an eye at a missing prostitute, no one had looked into the cases. It didn’t help that Petrova had plenty of law enforcement in his back pocket, making it easy for officers to turn a blind eye to what was actually going on throughout the state.

But not you.

Huddled over the counter of the bar in the dim lighting, you were focused on typing up an email to your editor on your phone. Gary had technically wanted you to check in with him once you’d gotten settled in Charming earlier this morning, but having been unable to resist getting started on your investigation after finally catching a lead, you admittedly had forgotten all about shooting him an email. You hoped the added bit of information about what you’d started working on today would ease the angry scolding you were sure to receive later.

As you typed, absently sipping on the piss beer you'd ordered a while ago–the one that was only half-finished and growing warm–you eventually felt a presence sidle up near you at the bar. Still focused on your work email, you paid the person no mind as your fingers swiftly flew over the keyboard of your phone. But when you noticed them lean against the counter near you from your peripheral, you had a feeling your quiet evening trying to unwind and focus your thoughts was about to be interrupted.

“Hey there, darlin’,” a deep, smooth voice came from beside you. “You're not from around here, are you?”

Without even glancing up, fingers still flying across the keys of your phone, you tensed at the man's clearly obvious intent. You had important work to focus on, you weren't interested in getting hit on by some random guy in a small town.

“No thank you,” you simply replied, not bothering to look at him.

An amused chuckle met your response, the sound only further irritating you. So this guy wasn't going to give up easily. Fantastic.

“Maybe you should put the phone down, sweetheart,” the voice tried again. “You're missing out on what's going on around you. Like me flirting with you.”

Fingers pausing their typing, you resisted the urge to throw your phone at him. “I wouldn't say I'm ‘missing’ it, exactly,” you said, annoyance levels rising. “It's actually interrupting my work.”

“You're working right now?” the voice asked incredulously. “Darlin’, no. Put the phone away, you're sitting at a bar. Why the hell are you working?”

“Look, if you’re looking for an easy lay tonight, it’s not me,” you stated bluntly, skimming through the finished email on your phone. “I’ll save you the time right now: I’m not interested. Please leave me alone.”

Another amused chuckle rumbled from the man beside you before you caught him sliding a little bit closer down the length of the counter towards you. Pressing the send button on your phone a bit more roughly than necessary, you couldn’t believe the audacity of this asshole. Was he really going to be that persistent?

“Sweetheart, I’m just trying to talk to you,” he replied, entirely unfazed by your rejection. “No need to go getting ahead of ourselves quite yet.”

With a frustrated huff, you turned off the screen on your phone and finally looked over at the man beside you, an irritated glare already on your face. But the irritation immediately fell from it when you realized you recognized this man. An annoying smirk quickly overtook his features as he caught the shift in your own expression, but you didn’t even give that arrogant look on his face another thought before your eyes dropped down to the leather kutte he was wearing, your eyes landing on the President patch. After a brief pause, your gaze slid back up to meet his. The smirk on his face only grew a bit wider as he continued to lean against the bar counter in front of you.

“Change your mind now, darlin’?” he asked.

Ignoring the smirk that seemed to be permanently present and the cocky confidence he exuded, your eyes narrowed slightly back at him. You’d done your research before coming out to Charming. You knew exactly who he was, and he was someone you’d been hoping to get an audience with while you were here. Especially because you were partly here because of him. What were the odds he’d just walk right up to you in a piece of shit dive bar?

“Jax Teller, right?” you questioned back.

That caught him off guard. He visibly recoiled, his eyes widening a bit as you called him by his name. A name he hadn’t given you yet. It took him a moment to recover, his demeanor shifting to something cautious and suspicious almost instantly.

“Yeah, and who the hell are you, sweetheart?” he asked, tone a bit sharper now.

Turning in your chair, you stuck your hand into your purse which hung over the back of it before pulling out a business card. He gave you a strange look as you slid it towards him on the counter, clearly not anticipating the flirtatious conversation to go the way it currently was.

“I’m an investigative journalist,” you informed him. “For the San Francisco Sun Times. I’m out here working a story on missing sex workers.”

Jax’s eyes rose back to you over the top of the business card he was holding in his hand. He looked confused as he studied you in silence for a moment.

“I’m sorry, you’re doing what?” he finally asked.

With a roll of your eyes you briefly explained yourself. “I’m investigating the disappearances of missing women–specifically sex workers–in Northern Cali. I believe they’re linked to Aleksander Petrova. You know, the big Russian crime lord?”

Jax pulled a face, his expression morphing briefly into one of horrified disbelief as he set your card back on the bar counter. “Yeah, darlin’. I damn well know who he is,” he told you. “What the hell are you doing looking into a man like that?”

An annoyed huff fell out of you in response. “I just told you,” you replied.

“No, I heard what you said,” he continued, shaking his head at you. “But, sweetheart, you’re a journalist. The hell are you gonna do going up against a man like Petrova?”

Turning further towards him in your chair, you let out a frustrated sigh. You’d been doing this for a long time now, you weren’t remotely incompetent. And you certainly didn’t appreciate being treated as such.

“I’m not going up against him, Mr. Teller,” you began, noticing the way his lips twitched when you’d referred to him so formally. “I’m investigating the missing women. Petrova has a pattern and I’ve been following him for over a year now. I’m trying to find evidence to link the missing women to him so I can give the FBI the information and they can take him down.”

His eyes narrowed back at you, an unreadable expression crossing his features as he listened to what you were saying. He looked completely different now than the arrogant flirt he had been just a few minutes ago.

“Helping those women and stopping that piece of shit is my main priority,” you finished. “The pay from publishing the story just keeps me doing what I do to help others.”

“You realize how unsafe and stupid that is, right?” he shot back. “You’re gonna get yourself killed. Or taken for his trafficking ring yourself. You’re just one goddamn woman going up against a Russian mobster with far more wealth and power than you have. You don’t stand a chance.”

“I didn’t ask for your vote of confidence,” you bitterly pointed out.

He paused for a moment, irritation briefly washing across his features. You figured he wasn’t used to being spoken to like this very often. Particularly by women, if your research into his club had taught you anything.

“Why’re you telling me all of this?” he asked curiously. “Why are you here in Charming?”

“Because, Mr. Teller,” you began, enjoying the flash of annoyance on his face at your continued formality, “I have a reasonable suspicion that your club’s businesses might be affected by all of this.”

His eyes immediately hardened at that, a dangerous glint in them. But before he got a word out, a loud commotion broke out over the noise of the bar. Both of you glanced over at the increasing ruckus across the room. You spotted a table filled with Sons all currently banging their hands against the surface and shouting at Jax.

“We believe in ya, Jackie!”

“Come on, brother! Seal the deal!”

“What's taking you so goddamn long, man!”

You frowned as the group of men fell into loud laughter, your attention slowly returning to the man in front of you. It was obvious they were shouting at him in relation to him having come over to flirt with you, but they seemed far too invested for their behavior to be normal. Jax's expression didn't give you much to go by as he only appeared to grow further irritated at their interruption before he turned back around and focused on you.

“What businesses are you talking about, darlin’?” he asked.

Resting an arm along the sticky bar counter, you kept your attention solely on him despite the continued noise from across the room. This conversation was far more important than whatever bullshit these men were shouting about. You might never have the opportunity of discussing anything about this investigation with Jax again after tonight, you couldn't waste the opportunity that had fallen into your lap.

“Redwoody and Diosa,” you answered him. “And the Diosa expansion I know you’re working on.”

Jax tensed at your response, his eyes narrowing further as he grew even more uncomfortable now. “How do you know about those?” he asked. “And why do they have anything to do with this?”

“I'm good at my job, Mr. Teller,” you answered. “And I told you, Petrova targets sex workers. And you and your club happen to have rounded quite a few up for your porn business and the poorly disguised brothels.” At the look that flashed across his face, you abruptly held up a hand and continued. “Relax, I'm not here to out you on those. I've known about them for a while now. If I wanted them shut down, they'd have been raided already. That's not what I'm after.”

“And I’m just supposed to take your word for that?” he snapped, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “Sweetheart, you’ve got a lot of knowledge that you shouldn’t have. I’m not likin’ that.”

Tapping your nails against the bar, you could see the tension increasing in him. He’d obviously expected to come over here and flirt, probably thinking he’d take you somewhere for a fuck. Now he looked stiff and pissed off.

“Do you really think I’d be dumb enough to tell you this to your face if I planned to shut your shit down?” you asked him. “Because that’d be pretty fucking stupid.” Sighing, your nails stopped tapping along the counter as you tried to be straight with him. “Look, I’m investigating these missing women either way. While I do, I’m hoping to keep your girls safe. All I’d like is a little cooperation to do so.”

“Cooperation?” he asked skeptically.

You shrugged easily. “Yeah. Like a head’s up if something weird is going on,” you explained. “If someone’s eyeing your businesses. Following any of your girls home. Anyone actually ends up missing.”

“Darlin’, I think I’m better equipped to take care of our girls more than you are,” he argued, that arrogant smirk gradually returning. “And I don’t need some fed wannabe dragging the real feds to my town.”

“Well,” you said, pushing your chair out and rising to your feet, “I’ll still be around. In case you care to change your mind and help those missing women.”

Pocketing your phone into your jean’s pocket, you figured it was about time you made it back to your motel for the night. You had a long day ahead of you tomorrow and you wanted to finalize a few more notes on your laptop before bed. Grabbing your purse and slipping the strap over your head, you paused when Jax’s voice suddenly broke through your thoughts.

“Whoa, wait, you’re just leaving then?” he asked. “You drop a bomb like that and then you’re just gonna disappear? You didn’t even finish your beer.”

Glancing over at the half-finished, disappointing drink, you made a noncommittal noise and shrugged. “It was shitty beer, anyway.”

You managed to take one step before Jax was speaking again. In the distance, you heard a bit of commotion steadily growing from the table of Sons once more.

“Come on,” Jax tried again. “Just let me buy you a drink. Something a little less shitty. We can talk about something…less depressing.”

Eyes running over the length of him just once, you already knew what he was after. And the answer was still no. You were here to finish this story and get Petrova thrown in prison. Fucking some random outlaw–no matter how attractive–wasn’t a priority. Especially one who, in your research, apparently had a history of fucking just about anything. You avoided guys like that.

“No, I’m good,” you answered. “Have a nice night, Mr. Teller.”

Taking just a few steps towards the bar’s exit, you heard the commotion from the table of Sons suddenly explode throughout the bar. The noise caused you to halt in your tracks, your head darting over towards the table as your brows knitted together in curiosity.

“Aw, Jackie!” one of the men shouted. “Ya lost the bet!”

“You’re losing your touch, brother!”

“Shot down! No action for you!”

It took a moment, but the second your ears registered the words ‘bet,’ you steadily began piecing things together. He hadn’t come over to initially speak with you because he’d actually been interested, it’s because they’d all made you into a damn bet. A fucking joke for their entertainment. Probably something along the lines of him getting you into his bed. A look of disgust passed over your features as your gaze shifted to Jax still standing beside the bar. He at least had the audacity to look moderately apologetic before he turned his attention towards the guys, shouting loudly across the room to be heard.

“Knock it the fuck off, assholes!”

Shaking your head at him, you could feel the disgust and embarrassment steadily filling you. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t worked with countless individuals in the seedy underworld, because you most certainly had. Your ability to humanize them to the outside world in your pieces was something you’d been praised for repeatedly. But never in your years of journalism had you been subjected to something so humiliating.

“You just saved me three hundred bucks, sweetheart!” one man shouted over to you.

A chorus of laughter erupted once more from the table as you made your way to the exit without a backwards glance at Jax. Instead, you shot the men at the table a dark glare, raising a hand high in the air and flipping the whole table off before pushing the door open and making your way outside.

Working with the Sons on this story, if you managed it, was going to be a pain in your ass.

#jax teller x reader #jax teller x you #jax teller #jax teller fanfiction #jax teller fic #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfiction #soa fanfiction

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lowkaylove · 1 day ago

Text

Anything Less Than, Everything & More

Pairings: Sylus x MC

Please be kind. This is my first ever fic.

CW: Angst, MC remembers everything, comparing herself to past!MC, hurt/comfort, Sylus’s horns make an appearance, Mephie is the best boy, PTSD, feelings of survivor’s guilt/shame, references to Dragon!Sylus’s death, please let me know if I’m missing any tags (I’m bad at this)

Notes: not beta read-we explode like Josephine. Not really edited as I have never written anything before in my life. I’m not creative, I’m just hyperfixated on fictional men that a girl can only dream of.

Prompt: You remember everything. And Sylus couldn’t be happier. You both could finally move forward and conquer the world like you were always meant to do. The problem is…you realize that you’re not her…and you never will be. She was enough for him to sacrifice his life for. Who the hell are you to deserve that kind of devotion from a man like Sylus? Honestly, who are you to demand anything from him after everything he went through to find her, only to end up with your version of the woman he loved. The one who showed him nothing but undeserved hatred and disgust in the beginning. A fucking rookie hunter with a mediocre evol at best. Someone who was useless to him from the beginning.

Why couldn’t you just be her? Doesn’t Sylus deserve to be happy? Maybe…if you can’t be her…maybe there’s a way to become useful and worthy of a little more of his time, however short it will last.

Prologue

You barely make it to your bed after an exhausting day.

It’s been almost nonstop missions for the last month, one after the other. And when you’re not on a mission, you got a second job at a boutique thanks to a recommendation from Rafayel to the owner. You still need to figure out a way to pay him back for his help.

For now, you’ve just been less of a brat when you work for him and will cater to his every whim so he’ll hire you for more bodyguard work.

Truly, nothing has exhausted you more physically. But it’s nothing compared to the mental toll you’ve suffered since a little over 2 months ago. But you are determined that this will all be worth it in the end.

Sylus is counting on you, and you won’t fail him this time.

2 months ago

It happened all at once.

Sylus had taken you to a field of flowers to watch the sunset. A perfect date as you two grew closer.

After settling down on the hillside, you couldn’t take your eyes off of the beautiful flora that surrounded you. Bold and intimidating red flowers blossomed all around you. The air felt familiar. Sylus felt a little too familiar and yet you swore you’ve never been here before.

After enjoying a small picnic, you stand up to stretch your limbs, gazing out towards the horizon. “It’s really beautiful out here, Sylus. I’ve never seen these flowers before, but the sunset makes the hills looks like they’re covered in rubies.”

“A fitting description, sweetie. The hills are bathed in rubies as far as the eyes can see.” But Sylus’s gaze rests on your silhouette turned away from him, his eyes filled with longing and devotion like no other.

Your heart clenches at his words. A sudden pang sends a tremor through your body. You’ve heard those word before…where have you heard them before?

“Sweetie?” Sylus calls out to you, concerned.

You turn to find him with one leg bent, arm resting on the knee. The other leg is stretched out. He removed his leather jacket and looks comfortable in is burgundy sweater and black denim. His eyes are full of worry though.

Then, images flash before you. Sylus, sitting the exact way he is now, but something is off. This Sylus is different. Black scales adorn his skin. His outfit does little to cover his chest and abdomen, a red gem rests in the middle of his chest.

This Sylus has horns. A tail.

This Sylus isn’t a human.

He is a Dragon.

My dragon is gone.

All of a sudden, an entirely different life floods your vision. You’re there, and so is Sylus. But it’s somewhere you’ve never been. The flowers on the hill shine under the sun. An organ plays beautifully in the distance. A beautiful Dragon carries you across vaguely familiar lands. It’s so beautiful, but all too much at the same time.

Pain sears through your head and you cry out. Your hands move to your temples as you land on your knees. They cover your ears as you moan in pain.

“Kitten!” Sylus rushed to you, he places his hands over yours then trails them down to your elbows and up to your shoulders. “Sweetie, what’s happening?”

It felt as if your head was splitting open. Your eyes were clenched shut but the visions were clear behind your eyelids.

Stayrus? …Can I call you a name that sounds similar? How does Sylus sound?

“Sweetheart, please…look at me…” You faintly hear Sylus’s voice break as if he’s in pain as well.

Sing that song again.

You feel the world spinning as this other Sylus rolls the both of you down a hill of flowers.

Only you and this flower can touch me here…

Your lungs are heavy with exhaustion as you feel your throat tighten. Tears run down your face as you finally look up at Sylus.

“S-Sylus…it hurts…” His eyes widen in panic before checking you over for an injury that isn’t there.

Taurus City can have flowers bloom everywhere…as far as the eye can see…

“You’re okay, sweetie…is it your heart? The Aether core?” Vermillion eyes scan over your face in worry.

But only for one person.

A kiss that never happened. It was all in your head. An illusion the both of you conjured to survive the pain and loss of each other.

You reach up, your shaky hands hovering over Sylus’s head…where his horns should be.

You must press on.

Pain sweeps over your entire body in waves. Your eyes clench shut again. Bile rises in your throat. You know exactly what happens next. You’ve lived this before. You were the one who committed this sin against your beloved.

Sylus won’t stop saying your name, desperate to grab your attention away from the pain your feeling. You faintly hear him shouting in the distance. “Luke! Kieran! Get a doctor to meet us at the base!” The twins respond from a speaker, likely Sylus’s phone.

Because…if you don’t…there’s no going back…

He’s gone. You’re alone in the field this time. You killed your Dragon, and now he’s gone. You remember the agony tearing out of your throat as you wail into the air, mourning the wonderful life you had lost, and the one you never got to have with your dragon.

And then…silence.

Air fills your lungs again. Your entire body goes slack and falls into Sylus’s embrace. You cough and choke on the oxygen overwhelming your senses. The tears don’t stop falling. The tremors do not leave your hands. And Sylus…oh Sylus

Labored breaths rack your entire body. Pain and relief clash together as you try to get your bearings.

“Kitten…are…are you o-okay?” His voice is shaky, as if he’s hopeful, yet afraid the agony isn’t over.

As you continue to breathe heavy and gasp for air, whimpers escape your lips as you nod weakly.

“I-I think I’m o-okay.” Your breathing eventually evens out.

Sylus takes this as a sign that he can touch you without causing any pain. His hands cup your cheeks as he lifts your gaze to his.

“We need to get you home. There is a doctor waiting to check over you. Can you walk, sweetie?” His eyes search your tear-filled ones.

“Wait. Sylus-”

“If not, I don’t mind carrying you. I just don’t want to cause you any pain if I touch you.” Sylus is desperate, frantic to get you somewhere safe. What if he loses you again? He can’t risk that.

A faint smile lifts the corners of your mouth. A sob escaped your lips as you really look at this beautiful man worrying over you.

“Sylus…you could never hurt me. How could you ever think that?” Your hands are hovering over his head again, as if searching for the horns. Maybe they’re hidden by his evol. Maybe he doesn’t have them in this life.

You can only pray that, if he still has them, he didn’t cut them off again like countless times before.

Your voice trembles. “Oh my Dragon…” another sob escaped your lips as Sylus’s heart stops beating for a moment. “I’m so…I’m so sorry.”

Everything stills in the world. Carmine eyes turn glassy as they peer into your very soul. His breaths quicken.

“What…what did you say?” He can’t believe it. He wouldn’t dare hope. This is a trick. Someone has trapped him in an illusion where you remember him. His heart will surely break beyond oblivion. Cursed by his beloved or not, he would not come back after this. This death will be absolute.

“Sylus I-I’m so sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am. For what I did to you then and in this life.” You can’t stop crying.

A slight mist rolls over Sylus’s eyes. Deep vermillion turns into shining garnets as one tear, then another, and another makes their way down his face. A look of hope and despair is all you can see. He then whispers your name so softly you thought you imagined it.

“How…how did you-? How much do you…remember?” Sylus releases short and shaky breaths with his words. A man of calm and collection and dignity has never looked so terrified and unsure and small.

You’re afraid to answer, but he deserves that at the very least from you. You took everything from him in his last life and condemned him in this one. You owe him this.

You slightly look at your surroundings. “Today is the most I’ve felt at peace in a long time. You gave me that. And in a field of datura flowers no less.” Your gaze lands on him, a small reassuring smile graces your lips.

“You gave me everything I could have ever wanted. You fulfilled every desire I craved. You…you protected me when we were ripped apart.” Your voice breaks on that last word.

A hand cups your cheek. “Sweetie, tell me…please. I need to know.” Sylus knows he sounds desperate, and he doesn’t care. This was everything. And he’ll be damned if this moment is gone before he loses you again.

Your arms wrap around his neck as you tackle him in an embrace. Truly giving yourself to this moment, you leave no room for any misunderstandings.

“I remember everything, Sylus. I remember giving you your name. I remember the mark you left me. We conquered enemies together. We took what was ours and fed into each other’s desires. I remember singing for you. I remember…” Your arms wind tighter around him.

“I remember being ripped apart from you. I remember the datura field. I…I remember being reunited with you once again only to take away everything from you. I remember the…curse I gave you…” Your crimes against him hit you hard.

You suddenly back away, already missing his comforting touch. But you don’t have that right or privilege anymore. You can no longer claim him as yours now that ignorance is out of the question. You remember everything. And now it’s time to repay for your crimes.

Your hands hover in front of you, palms forward in a surrendering position.

“And I’m so sorry, Sylus. I’m so sorry for everything I did. And for all of the pain I caused you. You have no idea how much I wish it was me instead of you…”

Your eyes remain on his as you vow to him, “I swear on this life and every one after that I will make things right. I will do anything you ask. Anything you command of me. I will accept any punishment you demand. Whatever penance you desire to inflict upon me. I swear it…” A small glimmer in your eyes begs Sylus to have mercy, but it is immediately shadowed by all of the guilt. You don’t deserve all of this kindness he’s shown you again. Why hasn’t he tossed you to your demise after all of this? What could you possibly have done to be shown his mercy?

Sylus doesn’t move except for the inhale and exhale movements from his chest.

“Sweetie…do you swear this isn’t a dream? Do you really remember everything?”

You nod, the lump in your throat makes it difficult to formulate words.

Suddenly he’s right in front of you. His movements are frantic again. Tremors run through his hands as they trail up your arms to your shoulders and up your neck to cradle your face again.

“My Sorceress. My beloved…I have waited so long to find you again. You’re as beautiful as that day in the datura fields of Taurus City…I finally found you…” he breathes out the last words with a smile.

“And you are my everything, I wouldn’t dare let any harm come to you. You have nothing to apologize for. I knew that…I knew I was losing myself. If you hadn’t done it, I would’ve…” His voice is choked.

He pressed his forehead against yours, and you bask in his embrace. The warmth from his breath, the soothing touch of his hands, the piercing gaze he has over you make you want to melt in his arms.

“I would’ve done something I’d never forgive myself of. Trust me, my love, the sword going through my chest was the better option.”

Although I feel a semblance of relief from his words, it doesn’t shake away the guilt I feel for cursing him.

“But I cursed you, Sylus. You’ll never truly be free. You’re forever chained to me. And I’m not…I’m not her. Not really. All the possibilities of who I could be in the next life and the next…it’s not fair to you.” My gaze drops in shame.

Sylus’s face turns into one of resolve. “Look at me.” He uses his evol to slightly jerk my head up and look into his eyes.

I start pleading again. “I promise I’ll fix ev-”

“You will do no such thing.”

My watery eyes widen in confusion. “I don’t-I don’t understand…”

He gives me his signature smirk. “My love, I’m a little heartbroken. Even after remembering everything, you still don’t get it.”

“You will do nothing of the sort. I am not chained down to you. I am not here unwillingly. From the very beginning, I swore to move mountains for you, crush your enemies, and give you everything you desired. That hasn’t changed…and it never will.”

After all this time, Sylus finally has you back. And he couldn’t be happier. Everything working up to this moment was worth it.

Externally, your eyes shined with relief that his love for you has held strong all these years. You were beyond elated that you have returned to each other.

Internally, you knew what had to be done. You knew that you had to make things right. You weren’t good enough in this life to deserve a man of Sylus’s caliber. He deserved his Sorceress.

Now you just needed a plan on how to become her, or at least anything better than what you are, before Sylus realizes just how much you pale in comparison to the woman he loved in Taurus City.

Sylus would never accept anything less than her.

Maybe I can do a part 2 if y’all want to get into the rest of what I planned to write. I’m hella self-deprecating and self-sabotaging in my own life, why not be the same in fiction.

Let me know if y’all think this can be something

#love and deepspace #l&ds #lnds #lads #sylus #love and deepspace sylus #l&ds sylus #lnds sylus #sylus love and deepspace #sylus x mc

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yuayzeely · 1 day ago

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Nishimura Riki x reader ft. Enhypen

Genre : angst with two different endings

Synopsis : Your boyfriend disappeared leaving you alone to question everything. Will he make it back? Or will you live suffering from the emptiness alone?

a/n : I sobbed so hard writing the ending for this. Maybe the start isn't as entertaining but I promise the ending will make you cry or at least feel bad since I'm not that good at writing yet. My next work will be about Sunghoon as a crazy patient or something like that. If you're interested then leave a comment and you’ll be tagged 👀 ~ this is the longest I’ve written and pls lmk if you come across any typos or errors (sorry this took so long I procrastinated.)

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated.

Your life is mundane. You wake up to silent walls and a dark room not bothering to switch on the lights. You eat and you stare into space. Your attempts of entertainment resulted in migraines and a growling stomach so all you could really do was play with your cats and hope that they have a better time than you, given they have a friend of a same breed at home whereas you've lacked any sort of social interaction since that day.

Two? Three? Maybe four? You don't know. The years passed in a flash ever since he disappeared.

Agents. You were both agents for an organisation that specialized in arresting criminals of illegal trading and possession of dangerous substances from chemicals to DIY pills that help people hallucinate better created by sellers. Who were you to judge, there was the demand and there was someone to fulfil it. You stepped into this line of work through scouting by the agency and slowly became a high ranked agent with your brother, Jungwon. You met him there, worked with him on projects and cleared a lot of cases together. A boy who was so special to you in many ways. That is, until he became your target. Nishimura Riki was his name.

You went by the codename "Agent EN-" with a hyphen at the back. To match with you he went with "NI-KI" with a hyphen between the two syllabus.

*Three years ago*

As you strode into work with a soft smile greeting your girls along the way to your desk, you were welcomed with an envelope with a red stamp in the corner...that means confidential information. Inside it wrote :

「Agent EN-,

Please report to the conference room once you've seen this letter. This is confidential information, tell nobody and return the letter to the captain after the meeting is over.

Regards,

Division Captain,

Heeseung"」

A letter? Directly from your captain? That's like, code red! Your division which consists of you, your brother, Riki, Jay, Jake, Sunoo and Sunghoon with Heeseung as the captain is very close in general so it's like you have five extra brothers to spare.

You threw your bag Into the locker behind you and quickly made your way to the conference room where everyone is already waiting.

Shutting the door, a bad feeling suddenly made its way into your gut. The last time you felt a sensation like that was when you almost died from a mission. The room is silent as everyone stared at you. "What's-" before you could finish, Heeseung had cut you off.

"We have a traitor among us....and it's Riki."

A...Traitor?

"What?" You immediately questioned. Jungwon having sensed your anger and confusion had made his way to your side to hold onto you while you stared at Heeseung as if he had a red nose and curly rainbow hair.

Sunghoon, as vice captain had stepped in. "A traitor, y/n. Footage and evidence all show that Riki has been working with the opposing organisation which is why we haven't been able to catch them all this while."

You looked at him in disbelief.

Before you could open your mouth to protest, Jay and Jake spoke up.

"We...can't accept it either y/n let's sit down and discuss it." Jay suggested to everyone as Jungwon dragged you to a chair.

The silent was so thick you could cut it, and Jake did, with a statement. "I ran into him late in the office last night and at 3am and asked him about it. He didn't say anything and ran off. Last seen at Incheon airport at 4:20am."

"We've been onto him for a while y/n but we didn't want to tell you until everything about the situation was clear. He's your boyfriend afterall." Sunoo spoke as he turned to look at you.

Heeseung pushed his laptop in your face where a file was open as he urges you to check it. The footage of him going through Heeseung's files and tiptoeing around the control room, the timeline of how the opposing organisation of drug dealers slipped through your fingers, the fingerprints and evidence of him with the organisation's bosses. They're right, it is Riki. But you couldn't accept it until Sunghoon gave you something.

"We found it at his desk..." Sunghoon said as he slid to you a letter with your name written on the envelope. You open it. Three words written with black ink in Riki's handwriting said "I'm sorry, Y/n"

You threw a tantrum, sobbed and stormed out of the conference room while Jungwon ran after you. Evidence is right there and you can't deny it. "Guilty until proven innocent" yet this time he had already been proven guilty and even made a run for it. You can't believe it. You can't believe that he would do something like this, to the teammates he's had for the past six years of his life, to the organisation he's worked for and to you who he's been dating for three years.

Whipping out your phone you open his chat to see a message he had sent at 4am yesterday, 20 minutes before he was last seen. His profile said "deleted account" and the message said "I love you."

Laying on your desk you begin to brawl your eyes out. Is it bad that he's a criminal? No, it's bad that he'd been the sweetest and most trustworthy person you all know. How can you accept that someone you're sure you were going to marry suddenly turned into a world class drug trading criminal? The type of criminal that you work to sentence to life, sometimes death.

They all had ran after you back to the office that was labelled "Offense division" by the glass door. Everyone carried heavy hearts but as they expected, you took it the worse. Jungwon slipping in his chair next to yours gently wiped your tears and hugged you while Heeseung and Sunghoon figure out what to do next. They've already informed headquarters but Riki hasn't been spotted in the past 8 hours as if he had evaporated.

Everything after that was a blur. You remember Jungwon sending you home and staying over to make sure you were fine. Heeseung issued a week long break for you to process everything and give days for Jungwon to look after you and make sure you don't do something crazy. Sunghoon had dropped by with Gaeul after work hoping that a fluffy friend could help with your shitty state of sadness and oblivion. Jay and Jake on the other hand had took turns preparing and sending lunch for you and Jungwon knowing their friend can't cook and you're in no state to feed neither of you. Sunoo who at last pulled a big move and adopted you not one but two cats for emotional support and to distract you from the incoming news about Riki everyday.

First day of your leave you got a call from Sunghoon saying they'll all meet at your place with takeout after work. That night Heeseung told you that they located Riki in Danyang. A sigh of relief made its way out your mouth. Maybe this whole situation will take a better turn?

Second night you received a call from Jake saying that cops from the INTERPOL had cornered Riki by a cliff. When they thought he had him, he jumped off the cliff. Jumped? Off a cliff? That's definitely something your boyfriend would do.

Third night Jungwon had told you that he most definitely jumped but they never found a body. Well, at least he's not dead...? You don't know if you'd rather live knowing he's in prison or that he's dead.

You started gaining your senses and returning to work after the week long break but the nights were still cold and lonely. You'd dream of him from time to time. From when you first met his gaze across the room, taking in his sharp features and soft skin to the time he shyly confessed his feelings with a bouquet of your favourite flowers in the white snow. You yearned him yet feared reality at the same time. What if suddenly they tell you that they've found a body?

Days became weeks and months turned into years. Soon you found yourself ordering his favourite food on rainy days, watching his favourite show alone while you wished he were here and staring at the photo album he made of you two for your anniversary. The albums had little slots for notes next to every picture. Riki wrote the date the picture was taken and cute notes for you in every single one through the whole photo album, none on repeat. Checking your calendar, it's the third year you've lost him in uncertainty on the universe's odds.

"19/12/2020 - Happy Holidays sweetheart. The year's been tough but we're tougher!"

"25/12/2020 - Our first Christmas as lovers and I wish that every Christmas to come will be with you"

"XX/XX/2021 - Happy Birthday my love. Years ago a miracle happened today. You happened and I couldn't be happier ♡"

Flipping through your growth and memories together never failed to make you emotional. You've cried until you couldn't anymore. Everything in the house lingered of his presence. The way cups were put ; the familiar line up of shoes ; a mini remote holder that hangs onto the sofa he got for free ; the plushie he gave you on the snowy night he told you he loved you. On some nights you felt a familiar warmth against your back. Maybe it's your imagination, maybe it was Riki visiting you as a ghost and cuddling with you to soothe the sadness.

After returning to work you never stopped on Riki's case. None of you dared to take a break. You still went on missions as a division but it will never feel the same without Riki covering you or helping Sunoo and Jungwon plan the attacking route.

Slowly everyone has fell into acceptance regarding Riki's disappearance but that doesn't stop Heeseung from desperately trying to connect something, anything with Riki's case. You on the other hand never stopped believing that he would come back to you. They never found a body so he's not dead. He can't be. Even if he ran away to have an affair overseas you'd be fine as long as he's alive at this point. As far as you're concerned, he'd never do something like that. Not to you at least.

You rode a bike along with Sunghoon and Jungwon while Heeseung, Jay, Jake, Sunoo and Riki, when he was still here, travelled in a van with monitors and equipment. That's how it's always been on raids and this time there was no difference. After nagging the merchants into the van they started driving back. You wanted to go to a convenience store nearby and Sunghoon asked if you needed company but you turned him down because something tells you that you should be alone tonight. You promised to message in the group once you've reached home and to leave your radio on in case anything happens. Speeding along the highway you reached a small 7-11 store and dropped off to get yourself a drink and some of your favourite tteokbokki to snack on. Riding your bike towards a familiar place by the mountains that you and Riki always went after late night raids just felt like the right thing to do. Under the purple blanket of the starry sky you chewed on your food while slurping away on the boxed drink occasionally checking the house camera to make sure your cats were eating from the automatic feeding machine.

You heard something rustling from behind yet you brushed it off as a wild animal because your danger senses didn't kick in. Until, you felt something cold against the side of your head. A gun.

"Don't move." The voice demanded. No wonder your senses didn't kick in. It was no danger. The warmth, the feeling and the connection felt all too familiar and you were sure it was him.

Nishimura Riki.

"I wasn't going to." You replied him in a confident tone. You're scared but he wouldn't kill you. He'd never. "They're not around...just me." He lowered the gun after that and slowly you turned around to be met with his large figure. He's gotten taller, sharper and more handsome than you remember with piercings and his hair styled perfectly. You looked down only to see a sparkle catch your eye. The couple bracelet he got you two. You never took it off since they day you got it and seems like he didn't either.

"You... you're back..." It took a while to process so your words came out as a mumble. "I missed yo-" before you could finish he'd already pulled you into a hug. The arms you've missed for so long finally wrapped themselves around you and you felt tears come out. Everything was just overwhelming. He gently patted your head and whispered comforting words into your ear while slowly taking you to sit down under a tree ; the tree you've always sat under on late night picnic dates.

You leaned on his shoulder and shared minutes of silence until he spoke up.

"Do you trust me?" He sounded... unsure and vulnerable. Honestly you'd willingly be the villain's wife if he were actually evil yet another part of you told you that you should hear him out.

"Yes..."

He took your hands and started explaining. You exchanged not only his plan and what he's been up to for he past three years but also your unfaded feelings. The look on his face was worth everything when he realised that you'd wait for him no matter what and love him to bits although he's done something that hurt everyone. That night you didn't reach home until it was almost sunrise. He didn't go with you as he claimed to have "unfinished work' to be cleared off the table and told you not to tell the others about what happened that it wasn't time yet.

Before he left, you shared a long overdue kiss under the stars as he mumbled "I love you" and "please trust me, it'll work out..."

And you do, you went separate ways from the location swearing to yourself to act normal. The night was cold as your cats purred loudly next to you. Reuniting with him in the dark was...weird. It felt like a dream yet that was the most peaceful sleep you've had in years to say knowing he's well and alive... knowing he still loves you as much as you still love him

Here comes the part where the endings are divided into two types : happy one that I feel it kinda mid cuz it was planned to be a sad one but I tried and sad one that I cried writing.

[ Happy Ending ]

It'd been a month or so since you saw him. You've hoped that the taps from your window was him climbing in from your balcony like when you started dating but it was just your cats fighting each other in the corner for the warmer bed.

One day when you showed up to work the office was unusually quiet and you've spotted none of your teammates. Maybe they were all late? You switched on your phone to check for notifications and saw that Heeseung had dropped you a message.

"Meet us in the basement."

That can't be good. It's never good when Heeseung texts with a fullstop. And the basement? That's where gear, weapons and big machines were kept. It's gotta be serious business. You mentally prepared yourself on the way down not knowing what to expect at all. Quickly tapping in the passcode and going through fingerprint verification you stepped inside the main control room to find Sunoo rushing to hold you in place as you took in the sight Infront of you. Heeseung and Sunghoon over the main monitor looking at some files and video recordings ; Jay guarding a suitcase that was wide open on the ground with documents everywhere as Jake and Jungwon surrounded an unconscious Riki who's tied to a chair and Sunoo by your side to calm you incase you rush over as none of them knew you'd actually seen him already.

Just when Heeseung was about to call Jay over for help, the radio sounded asking for Heeseung and a voice came through.

"Commander Lee, we found the body."

Body? Who's body?

"What happened...? Why is Riki back?" You had so many questions but Jake ushered everyone to sit down and tell their side of the story while Jungwon dragged the chair that had Riki in it to the table as well.

"He was already here when I clocked in this morning. I got a notification saying unauthorized personnel when I arrived. Came down to check and he threw this case in my face saying he's not a criminal." Heeseung started first with a tone of disbelief.

Sunghoon continued after. "We got a call from central headquarters saying that agent NI-KI-1208 has returned from undercover work with evidence, documents of approval and proof of coordination issued by HQ. We were to check and secure everything as well as take over the last part of the case from here on." Everyone had heavy hearts. You knew that everyone in the room still trusted him but it will take a bit of time for everything to settle in as headquarters personally called Heeseung to inform him about the situation.bHe was no criminal afterall. It was undercover work, no wonder he told you not to tell a soul that day when he found you in the mountains.

"Y/n" Jungwon called out. Turning to him, he questioned. "You'd already seen him before this haven't you?"

Oh shoot were they spying? Was your acting terrible? "Yes...how did you know?" You questioned back and Jungwon chuckled. "My sister would never be this calm after seeing her boyfriend who disappeared and was supposed to be a criminal suddenly appear in front of her." He's not wrong...

Turns out Riki had caught one of the higher ups working with the opposing organisation. To carry out the plan to capture them perfectly he had to go alone, undercover, pretending to join them and disappear while keeping in touch with headquarters all this time. The evidence and footage of him sneaking around was set to be deliberately seen by Sunghoon as they deducted him the perfect target who would not freak out about it. To pull it off perfectly it was best nobody knew, and that's how everything happened up until now. The opposing organisation was planning to blow up an airport and Riki being Riki decided he should keep doing this without assistance. They started trusting Riki and he "helped them" only to trick them and kill the boss years later, capturing his followers in a big groin the process. The body they told Heeseung they found is the boss killed by Riki as the last part of his plan to end things. However things between you and Riki seem...tense compared to the others. They just hugged him and everything's fine again.

Soon the office was quiet. Everyone had gone home leaving you and Riki alone. He slowly rolled over on his wheeled office chair to your desk where you'd dosed off from paperwork. He took off his jacket and draped it over you in attempt to shield you from the cold then laid his head on Jungwon's desk to stare at your sleeping face feeling guilty and happy at the same time.

So many thoughts played in his mind at this moment as they did for the past three years. He felt bad for never telling you anything. For the sake of his life and a chance at winning he couldn't risk communicating with any of you, he couldn't risk the bad guys finding out his weak point : you. He'd never forgive himself if something had happened to you and he'd never be able to face Jungwon ever again because when you started dating he swore to use his life to protect yours. Tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear the movement stirred you awake from your nap to be met with Riki's beautiful orbs. Tears suddenly came to your eyes and your body had moved itself towards Riki's embrace before your brain could process what happened. Picking you up from the chair he moved the both of you to the couch in the corner while gently wiping your tears away. You haven't talked to him since learning about what happened. Although you saw him a month ago it just felt...real this time. He's really back.

He has his wonders. He wondered if you thought of him the way he thought of you every night ; he thought whether if you knew that the polaroid you took on your first Christmas together never left his wallet and he stares at it every time ; he thought about what he will do if you decide to move on and leave him ; he thought if these past three years, did you choose to go with someone else? All his doubts that constantly poked at him turned into ashes when you hugged him so tightly that night on the mountain.

That night you shared dinner for the first time in three years with each other. Untold stories were told tonight and you only fell asleep in his arms when you got tired of yapping. Everything that happened, everything that you felt, and the two new feline friends who were supposed to be your emotional support animals are now part of the family. They liked him surprisingly well, enough to follow him into the bathroom the first day they met him.

He couldn't help but cry to himself when he looked at your small figure cuddled up to his chest fast asleep. He's so grateful and happy that you trusted him and loved him enough to wait for him. Three whole years. He's not going to let that go to waste. He never told anyone except Jungwon but the little safe box in your shared closet that was supposed to be "empty" actually had a beautiful diamond ring inside of it, waiting for it's future owner approved by your brother and parents. He'll make you his Mrs.Nishimura in a few months, just you wait until he finally grows some balls to propose to you. He made you wait long enough and it's time to settle down with you, the person he swore to love unconditionally

｡⁠.ﾟ⁠+⁠ ⁠⟵ﾉ⁠✧～つ⁠｡⁠☆╠

[ Sad Ending ]

One night you are gearing up with the team, getting ready to go on a raid for the gang you’ve had your eyes on for so long. You sped along the highway into the mountains to head to the spot you were assigned for backup while Heeseung led Jay and Jake to take them head on. Since you took the back route in case they detoured or tried to run off, you were to make sure they don’t sneak past you - that is, until, your radio rang with Heeseung’s loud voice, commanding you, Sunghoon and Jungwon who were on bikes to gather at the place where the gang was speculated to meet. Looks like the bad guys walked right into your trap. You hopped on your bike again and rush towards the scene. There you saw that the transportation truck that has been flipped over, multiple boxes were opened and syringes with what you assumed was drugs spilled on the ground. Pulling out your gun, you rushed to their aid while catching Jungwon setting up his gun from far away to snipe the merchants.

During the fight you took down a few men by kicking them where the sun doesn’t shine with your high heels and shooting the one that tried to grab you in their arm. Suddenly a guy pounced on you and put you in a headlock from behind while covering your mouth with a cloth. Knowing that something was probably on it, you held your breath while trying to untangle yourself from his hold. Pain shot through your leg out of nowhere and when you managed to take a look, you saw the needle with suspicious purple liquid stuck into your thigh. Oh. That can’t be good. Things that have an eerie glow of iridescent green or purple are never good, like those potions you see in cartoons. The man who was choking you suddenly let go as you see a shadow tackle him to the ground. With the substance in your system, your best to crawl towards the case that had opened onto the ground to reach for the antidote while ignoring the numbness that had reached your chest. A familiar voice caught your attention. It was the shadow that had taken the man who was holding you to the ground. You thought it was Sunoo, maybe Sunghoon? But that voice and those smooth movements don’t belong to either of them, they belong to Riki.

Before you could react to what was happening in front of you, the big guy with muscles had jabbed the same needle as the one on your thigh into Riki’s chest. Riki immediately collapsed after knocking the guy out of consciousness and began crawling towards your direction. He’s reaching for the antidote too? It’s okay, there’s two of those in the case, if only you could…reach it…

You’d pass out in front of Riki’s widened eyes due to the chemical. He hurriedly made his way to the case with his arms as hard as he could. He can’t let you die, not you, never you. Whatever it was it’s definitely going to kill you both if the antidote doesn’t manage to take effect. It hadn’t been in his body for as long as yours so he planned to save you first. His breath hitched when he finally got to the opened case. There was only one tube of antidote but two of you who were affected. He didn’t have time to think…so he only made what was undoubtedly the correct decision in his eyes.

You woke up to bright lights above you, a dizzy head and your teammates patched up surrounding you. "You're awake..." Jungwon breathed with a sigh of relief. Everyone was oddly quiet. Sunoo and Jake seem like they were bawling their eyes out while the others look...tired and defeated. Suddenly you remembered Riki.

Nervously you questioned them. "Where's...Riki?" You had a feeling something was wrong. That feeling of impending doom crept up under your skin and the room hung a very atmosphere. "I said where's Riki?!" You burst out at them as they all looked at you in pity.

"He didn't make it..."

What?

"He didn't make it, y/n..." Heeseung stated, trying his best to hold back the tears as he watched your face settle in an expression of shock and emptiness.

"No he's not... he's in the bathroom isn't he? You're all trying to prank me-"

"Y/n!!!" Your brother yelled grabbing you while he chokes back a sob and said "He's dead. He didn't make it..."

At this point everyone was a crying mess, Heeseung had his head in his hands by the chair constantly blaming himself for not doing something, anything to save the both of you. The others cried silently and hugged each other for comfort while Jungwon helps you out of bed onto a wheelchair. The trip to the room where Riki was seemed long and lonely. You refused to believe it, hoping that he'd welcome you with a smile and give you a kiss the second you enter the room although you knew all too well that he'd use the antidote on you instead of himself. How did he manage to pass something to the boys? Turns out he had snuck it in one of their bags when the fight happened, right before he came to save you.

The room filled with metal squares was cold and quiet, only the sound of the door opening can be heard as Jungwon pushed you towards a table in the middle of the room where someone was covered with a white cloth from head to toe. As you stopped by the edge of the table, Jungwon just sat down nearby and silently watched you say goodbye to your lover.

Your trembling hands slowly reached for the two corners of the cloth that seemed to weigh a thousand souls, slowly pulling it open only to reveal the familiar face you fell in love with. He looked...pale but peaceful at the same time. Your hands had already reached to cup his face before you realise, tears blurring your vision as you take in everything. His skin was cold and hard with no warmth to them unlike how you used to know it when he would hug you. You called out his name again, again and again but he never responded. You laid your head down right next to his as you held his hand crying your heart out, memories of the both of you suddenly flashed through your mind like a movie. Before you knew It you'd fallen asleep from crying. Seeing you lie on his shoulder to cry one last time, like how you would everytime you feel sad, Jungwon couldn't help but let his tears fall once more knowing Riki had kept the promise they made when Riki wanted to confess his feelings : that he would protect you with his life

The next day you woke up in your hospital room again to catch Jungwon packing your things in a huge bag. At least you get to go home after everything that happened. "Traumatic" might not even be enough to describe what you've been through. After getting discharged, Jungwon drove the both of you home in his car where it was pin drop silent, only the noise of passing cars can be heard.

The sky is... prettier today...and that's how it'll be everyday from now on. Brings a whole new meaning to "six feets never felt so far." The sunset with orangey pink hues made you want to cry again. He loved watching sunsets with you before going on missions to end the day but now it can't get more ironic than it already is.

Your cats rushed to your feet the second you opened the door dragging yourself inside. It felt... different this time...they tailed you and jumped on your lap when you took a seat with eyes that were tired of crying. Cookie, your brown cat nudged your arms while Cream, your white cat reached its paw in your face as if trying to wipe your tears. Cookie and cream...yeah you named them that because it was Riki's favourite ice cream flavour and their fur matches the flavours seen in the ice cream tub.

His burial a few days later ended with you lying against his gravestone after saying goodbye and looking at his pretty face one last time. Cookie and Cream were on leashes as they slowly circled the dirt that was pushed tightly together, a familiar scent the knew that belonged to "papa" lingering in the air. Oh yeah...you two are cat parents after Sunoo whisked home two cats for your in comfort and support of his disappearance. You'd let them sniff his clothes, show them pictures and tell them stories as if they were actually children. You wondered if they knew that he died. What if they live the rest of their lives believing that papa never came home or if he ever existed? If you spoke cat, you'd tell them that he won't ever step through that door ever again. The rain mixed with your tears are gentle against your skin while the cats sat quietly around you. Hours seem to pass before you push yourself up to go home, ignoring the mud that stuck to your skirt. You cleaned the cats' paws after getting home and decided to take a shower. He used to surprise you with baths and would soon join you in them. You scrubbed his back while he helped you wash your hair after a tiring day. Suddenly you remembered that you were given a piece of paper by Heeseung at the hospital a few days ago. Quickly drying yourself you slipped on comfy pyjamas and went to dig through the bag Jungwon had packed at the hospital. The little pieces of folded paper hid in the corner of the bag, a bit crumpled from the weight of clothes in the bag. Carefully opening the note revealed a short handwritten message from Riki that said :

「When you're reading this I'm probably not around anymore. Remember the little save box we have in the closet? The password to it is 9102 and there's something inside you have to see. I love you. 」

Warm tears immediately dripped down as your legs bring you in front of your shared closet that still held clothes with his scent you love so much inside. Your shaky hands hit the buttons on the safe box and watching the little door pop open, inside was a carefully decorated envelope with a small box.

The envelope wasn't sealed with anything and inside was another handwritten message by Riki. You'd recognise that squiggly writing anywhere and too bad that you'll never see it again.

Suddenly feeling overwhelmed as if you already know what's inside but you had to open it to make sure.

「To : y/n

Princess, if you're reading this then it means that I never got to ask you this in person. I wanna let you know that I love you, I always have and I always will no matter what. I'd wish for you to move on but selfishly I want you to be mine forever. I'll always be thankful, for everything you've done for me. Will you marry me? 」

Behind the card, a safety pin necklace was attached to it....his... safety pin necklace. He'd worn it for a while and you've been helping him with all the love and smiles you can give until he eventually took it off and kept it away.

The small box with red velvet felt covering it opened to reveal the prettiest diamond ring inside of it. At this point tears just kept falling from your eyes as your clutched the items, whispering a soft "yes" between your choked sobs. So what if you never signed legal papers? The ring from the second you took it out of its holder to put on your fourth finger, a perfect fit, will never come off until the day you stop breathing. You went to bed still crying, drying your tears with Cookie's tail as Cream tries her best to purr loudly as a form of comfort. They're probably so confused why you're looking so gloomy and crying yourself to sleep everyday.

That night you had a dream. You woke up in his arms, you saw him. He cuddled you closely as he smiled at your widening eyes that saw him. Your surroundings were all white but it didn't matter now...not when you saw him face to face. You secretly wished that his dream wouldn't end to be able to stay with him forever. Jungwon will take care of Cookie and Cream. Your memory is blurry after you wake up, seemingly unable to remember what happened in your dream but you knew that you saw, touched, talked and was with him all along. Pushing yourself off the bed after checking the nearby clock that read "10:00am" you felt something cold against your wrist.

Was it your ring? No rings go on fingers. Then...what is it? You held up your right wrist to see a familiar bracelet around it, silver in colour with pretty designs. The same one he gave you in your dream last night.

After that, before any special occasion such as your birthday, his birthday, your anniversary, new years or Christmas, you'd have a dream of him. Was it the bracelet? You don't know. It wouldn't come off and somehow you've never managed to damage it. You're always more excited to go to sleep on those days knowing that you'll see him, even if it was only just a dream. You'll talk and share with him while he holds you close, giving "hmm" as a reply and laughing with you then give you a kiss before you wake up. You don't know how to describe it you've never told anyone as they might think you need therapy but the kiss always felt so real, as if he were actually here.

You still visit his grave once or twice a week for years to come, sometimes with Cookie and Cream. You pack your lunch in a bento to eat by his side as you yap about your day, sometimes crying a little about how hard things are. You always believed that he can hear you and is always with you, after that bracelet. Your visits to the graveyard were more frequent than ever, the path to it so familiar you can walk with your eyes closed. You'll make sure the grass around it gets a nice trim and that you visit him every few days, rain or shine. It might seem insane but you've given up moving on now. You're Mrs.Nishimura, and you'll take on missions with a braver heart knowing that if you die, your Mr.Nishimura will be there to take care of you.

Little did you know, from the eyes of your cats, on those nights where you dreamt, there's always a familiar silhouette that gives off a faint glow and had features they've seen before cuddling you in his chest as you smile softly in your dream. He would hum a soft tune in your ears and move your hair behind your ear from time to time. When Cookie and Cream jumped on the bed, his touch on their fluffy heads gave off the feel of someone they would know. Ah, they recognise this touch...it's papa's hand.

Taglist :

@kazmura

@amorsitta

@woniefication

@silvermistcosmos

Hope everyone enjoyed~

And hope I did a good job in the angst part :<

#enhypen #enhypen niki #enhypen x reader #ni ki #nishimura riki #enhypen fanfiction #enha imagines #enha x reader #enha nishimura riki #enha niki #niki angst #nishimura riki angst #nishimura riki x reader #riki nishimura x reader #niki x reader #riki x reader #enhypen riki

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rypnami · 3 days ago

Text

Theiara Drabble

self- indulgent theiara drabble about a time they see a dragon, feat. some stuff i made up on the fly (hehe get it) about the hebridean black. not beta read or edited so keep that in mind heeh. literally no plot i just wanted to write them.

word count: 1081 no warnings, just fluff and the classic theiara bickering lol. established semi-new relationship <3 idk if any of this makes sense byeee

tagging @amethystandemma since chatting w/ you about the dragon pics inspired me lol

The Scottish highlands are, in Chiara's opinion, the most beautiful place in the world. Granted, she hasn't been to many places in the world, and perhaps being a Scot herself, she's biased, but simply nothing can compare to the rolling green of the mountains or the glistening water on the scattered lochs. Now that winter is, for the most part, over, and spring is finally showing its face, it’s the perfect time to take a long walk and enjoy seeing the sun for the first time in ages.

The only thing that could make the day better would be if she had someone to share it with- as luck would have it, she does. After quite a lot of convincing, she has brought Theseus Scamander in tow for this mini-adventure. They’ve been coworkers for a few years now, but recently it’s developed into something more. They haven’t technically labelled it yet, but it is certainly more than just friends, or coworkers that drive each other mental at any given opportunity.

Where she has opted for more casual clothes for once- a simple white blouse and knee-length grey skirt, he is in his full blue overcoat, the grey blazer she’s rarely seen him out of, and his incredibly fancy shoes; perhaps not ideal for a trek in the highlands. It’s hardly different from what he would typically wear to work, as if they are about to be called on a very important case, and not out trying to enjoy themselves on one of their few days off. He does look good, however, so she can’t complain too much.

They’ve stopped in an open meadow-like area, surrounded by hills and dotted with purple flowers. She flops down in the grass, just off the well-worn dirt path, and breathes in the freshness of the air. Her pale blonde hair spreads out amongst the green.

Theseus leans over her, eyebrows raised. “You’re going to get insects in your hair doing that, you know.”

“Spoilsport.”

“I’m only sayingggg, I don’t imagine you, of all people, want crawly things all over you.”

Hm, true. Chiara hates just about anything with more than 4 legs. Honestly, who needs that many? What are they even used for? “You’ll pick them out for me.”

He sits down beside her, smiling slightly. “Of course I will. But… is this really what we came all the way out here to do? Have you lay on the floor?”

“It’s called appreciating nature. Try it sometime.” She sticks her tongue out at him. “And ‘all the way out here’ is an exaggeration. You can still see the hamlet.” Chiara points left, back down the dirt path, where just peeking over the rise of the hillside, the thatched roofs of Bainburgh are visible.

“Yes, but we could appreciate nature from there.”

“If you’re going to whinge the whole time, you can just go on back and I can enjoy myself.”

“Hey, now, I didn’t say I want to go back.” Almost absentmindedly, he reaches over and starts playing with her hair. “Just pointing out that someone truly in awe of the natural world could do it anywhere.”

“Have a sense of adventure, Scamander,” Chiara huffs, sitting up and crossing her arms. “There’s more to see out here than at a mouldy old hamlet!” She gestures as a couple shaggy, long-horned cattle that meander by. "See?!"

“Ah, yes, we can see all the cows. I love cows. Very interesting.” A grin spreads across his face, and accompanied with the twinkle in his eyes, it would be obvious to anyone that he’s only trying to rile her. Unfortunately, Chiara has never been one for attentiveness to such things- or emotional regulation, honestly.

“Cows are brilliant!”

“Have you seen their expressions? It looks as though they operate on about 2 brain cells.”

Chiara narrows her eyes. “Two more than you have.”

Theseus chuckles. “Alright, alright. You know I’m teasing. I love spending time with you, wherever. Even amongst the livestock.” He wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her in so she’s sitting in his lap. He rests his chin on her shoulder as Chiara leans back against his chest. “I’ll admit, it is nice to be just us.”

“Mm.” Chiara sighs. Yes, he might drive her up the wall sometimes, but she truly can’t imagine her life without him. “There’s not just farm animals around, anyhow. Could see… I dunno. Hippogriffs, maybe some Puffskeins, or- a dragon?!”

“I wouldn’t get my hopes up about a dragon-”

“No, look! A dragon!” Chiara gapes.

Overhead, a handful of kilometers away, is, in fact, a dragon. It is positively massive- so big, in fact, that she can still make out what it looks like rather clearly. It has a massive wingspan with orange membranes spreading between long, finger-like segments. It seems to have dark brown or grey scales, but a lighter underbelly. As it flies even closer, close enough that they can almost feel the wind from its wings, she can see what looks like a large, vibrant purple eye.

Although there is something incredibly unnerving about such a powerful, dangerous predator so close to them… it’s also oddly mesmerising.

“It’s beautiful,” Chiara murmurs.

“It is.”

“What species do you think it is?”

Without missing a beat, Theseus answers. “Hebridean Black. Looks like a female, too. See, she’s got two sets of horns, one curling forward. Males have three, and they all curve back behind the ears.” He squints at the dragon as she flies away. “Her tail is also pointed- a male would have more of a club shape, for defence.”

Chiara stares at him, her jaw hanging open. “How in the hell do you know that? Just off the top of your head?”

“Oh. Er, I dunno.” He runs his fingers through his hair, smiling a bit sheepishly. “I- suppose it’s my brother’s fault. He’s quite passionate about magical creatures. My whole family is, really, but him especially. When we were younger, he used to always talk my ear off about beasts and creature identification…only ever listened to humour him, but I reckon I was paying more attention than I thought.”

“That’s… unexpectedly sweet.”

“I beg your pardon? I am plenty sweet. All the time!”

“Of course you are.”

He presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Yes, well. Perhaps we ought to go back inside, on the off chance she comes back around and spots us… I don’t fancy being dragon food today.”

“...Fine.”

#let the tooth-rotting valentine's month fluff begin #drabble #fantastic beats and where to find them #fantastic beasts #theseus scamander #chiara wilson #theseus scamander x oc #theiara #theseus x chiara #fantastic beasts fanfiction #theseus scamander fanfiction #callum turner #newt scamander

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infiniteglitterfall · 19 hours ago

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I wrote a whole thing in response to this. It's not done. But I just want to say I'M SO FUCKING TIRED OF THIS.

I'M SO FUCKING TIRED OF THE ENTIRE LEFT APPROPRIATING JEWISH TERMS, REDEFINING THEM TO MEAN SOMETHING EVIL THAT YOU CAN'T EVEN AGREE ON, AND THEN ATTACKING AND INDIVIDUALLY EXILING JEWS FOR WHAT YOU IMAGINE WE BELIEVE.

And I don't think it's actually the entire left. I think there's a loud, horrifying group that does this, and a larger silent majority that mostly doesn't even see it.

I think that ten years ago, I would quite possibly not have seen any of it. I wouldn't have been in the right circles online to see it. I would've reblogged things that sounded right, and moved on.

I probably would have seen and shared things that defended Jews. Because that's what I did, ten years ago, when I saw them. But it would've been incredibly rare.

And that sucks. Because right now, it feels like everything has been on fire for about a year and a half. And really, everything has been on fire for even longer than that.

I've seen people talk about how nobody was acknowledging the 2018 Tree of Life Synagogue massacre as antisemitism, or having marches or vigils around it, except Jews.

I remember several other things during that time where all the non-Jews talking about them, on the left, were being ignorant defensive antisemitic garbage.

I only recently learned, by looking at the FBI hate crimes stats, that Jews in the US have experienced the second-largest number of hate crimes almost every single year since the FBI started tracking them.

(Second only to Black people, yes. Usually gay men are third. Idk if anyone's ever tried to analyze what percentage of each community the hate crime stats represent.)

Nobody talks about that.

But plenty of people talk about how Jews weaponize claims of antisemitism. Apparently this is the only marginalized group you're allowed to say that about? At least, I haven't been able to think of others.

Plenty of people claim the ADL is weaponizing claims of antisemitism to make pro-Palestinians look bad. (An argument that really only works as long as you ignore the FBI's nearly forty years of data.)

I don't expect people to be able to jump in and defend Jews or call out antisemitism. It is, frankly, a lot to learn. And it's stuff that gets so silenced and erased, people often have to start from scratch.

But my tired cranky ass is BEGGING YOU. PLEASE, if you care about this shit, reblog this, and hit the jumblr tag and find some Jews to follow. Just go find some people to listen to and learn from.

Because it's just gonna get worse. Trump is going to actively make things worse from both ends. He's anti-Jewish as fuck. He literally keeps a book of Hitler's speeches in his nightstand. (Not that it's helped him any with his own oratorical efforts; holy shit.)

He is also anti-Muslim as fuck, and today he apparently said he wanted to take over Gaza.

What's gonna happen is that the left is going to continue decoupling "Nazi" from "hates Jews." Continue not listening to Jews or learning to identify and unpack antisemitism. And it'll be just as happy as ever to say "punch Nazis."

But it already has a jumpstart on "Israelis and 'Zionists' are Nazis." And on "Israelis and 'Zionists' shouldn't be allowed to teach, or perform publicly, or possibly hold jobs."

Every single thing the far right does to attack "pro-Palestinians" is going to be awful, and is going to be used to imply that they support Jews -- which, in turn, will make Jews seem sus.

When white supremacists and literal Nazis attack Jews, the left will continue to pretend it's not happening.

Basically, Trump will be emboldening anti-Jewish sentiment and acts on both the left and the right.

And now that I think about it, maybe that's part of what happened his first term too.

Again: my tired cranky ass is BEGGING YOU. PLEASE, if you care about this shit, reblog this, and hit the jumblr tag and find some Jews to follow. Just go find some people to listen to and learn from. (You can follow me, if you don't already. It's just that I mostly write infodumps 😇)

If you want a quick read that's a real masterclass and gut-punch on this topic, read People Love Dead Jews, by Dara Horn. You can get it used! New! In podcast form! At the library! At your library as an ebook or audio book! Read a review! Read an excerpt!

This tiny bit is absolutely wrecking me:

Sometimes your body is someone else’s haunted house. Other people look at you and can only see the dead.

Here's an interview about how she ended up writing the book that has some absolutely amazing examples. Even with her interview, it's hard not to quote things she says:

We have had this idea when we teach people not to be bigoted, that like the way to teach them that is to say, like, see this fill-in-the-blank group over here, like you shouldn't be mean to those people because they're just like you and me, they're just like everybody else.

And it's like, well, the problem with that, especially in the Jewish case, is that Jews spent 3,000 years not being like everybody else.

Everyone, but especially Jews, please add your own suggestions in the reblogs, replies, or tags.

Someone messaged my drag collective with a complaint about my "Zionist leanings" and asked me to be thrown out of the collective. I thought my co runner would back me up bc he owes me for an entirely separate thing, and I've been doing most of the work between us recently. Nope, threw me straight under the bus.

#jumblr #dei #Jewish culture #Jewish history #allyship #wall of words #long post

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formosusiniquis · 1 day ago

Text

a particular kind of girl

Steve Harrington/Tommy Hagan/Carol Perkins WC: 4669 | E | Tags/Themes: Genderfluid!Steve Harrington; Lingerie; Feminine Terminology used for Steve; Smut; Dom!Carol and Steve; Sub!Tommy AO3 a very special thank you to @itcanbepalped for being my smut guidance counselor and helping me get unstuck

Carol was particular.

It was a trait Tommy really liked in her. A trait she shared with the other member of their little trio. So clearly it wasn’t something that bothered him since he’s seeking it out. She keeps her planner filled out, starting at the end of the week and making disappointed little tongue clicks every time someone -- Tommy, it was usually Tommy -- forced her to have to change it. She planned her outfits out every weekend on the phone with Stevie, an activity he’d been party to once and promptly uninvited to. She was an everything in its place kind of girl, and he loved that.

It just made giving her gifts hard.

“No.”

Stevie snorts from the floor, doesn’t even have to look up from the magazine to know it’s funny how mercilessly Tommy just got shut down.

“Babe, what? It’s a gift, I thought you could wear it tonight.”

Carol smiles his favorite smile, small and a little mean. It makes him feel high, but in a sexy way. “I know what you thought was going to happen,” she says, “but I’m not wearing that. The yellow is going to make me look like my fucking liver is failing, the triangle cups are going to make my tits look small, and wearing a thong under my dress is like asking one of your neanderthal friends to flip my skirt.”

She tears it down effortlessly as Stevie hums along with each point from the floor, leaving him a little dizzy. The gift he’d been hoping to unwrap like a sexy present later that night held in his hand still like a kid’s handmade mother’s day gift: a sweet gesture but ultimately not worth the tissue paper it’d been wrapped in.

“Don’t be sad, baby, you just got confused.”

“Confused?” His head feels like it’s a size too big for his body. Like they’ve already started pre-gaming even though they hadn’t cause Mr. and Mrs. Harrington were still in the house, wouldn’t leave to catch their flight for another hour.

“Yeah, Tom, confused,” Stevie chimes in, always happy to pick up the thread of Carol’s teasing if she was the one to start it first.

Carol’s nails are long enough that he can feel them scrape along his arm with the soft pads of her fingers. Goosebumps rise in their wakes, “It’s okay to admit you really bought this for Stevie.”

He tries to deny it, “But Steve’s-”

“A girl sometimes, it’s so hard to predict.”

Stevie was particular too. Never a hair out of place. He… She would always make sure she showed up at any event perfectly pressed and ready. Even if it was a basketball game with the guys, her shoes would be clean, laces white as the tube socks pulled up her calves. She would slip away from him and Carol sometimes in the hall, he always thought she just got tired of watching them make out, but sometimes she would come back with her hair parted different and shiny gloss on her lips. Hard to predict.

“Stevie would look glowy in that sunshine yellow,” Carol husks in his ear. “You’re just a little dense sometimes, aren’t you, baby? But you noticed how pretty Stevie’s looked this week, didn’t you?”

She sits up from the floor, lips glossy and eyes big in a way he can kind of tell now isn’t entirely natural. Maybe that special mascara stuff Carol uses before they can go out for hangover food because she can’t go out to the diner looking hungover.

“You think I’m pretty, Tommy?” Stevie asks.

He thinks he does, thinks he must. Cause he spends a lot of time looking at Stevie, at her hands and her legs and her ass.

“Yeah,” he feels breathless when he answers. Red in the face probably, the way Carol always teases him about getting when he’s hot for it and embarrassed about it.

“And it’ll be really fun,” Carol says, lips every few words as she taunts him, “at the end of the night when you get to see her tits for the first time in this pretty bra you bought her, won’t it? You’ll get to be the first boy in town to see her pretty chest.”

And he’s seen them in the locker room when they were pecs. But this is different, makes him feel nervous, palms sweaty like the first time he and Carol were going to do it.

“I don’t know Carrie, I’m not a slut. I don’t just give it out to anyone,” Stevie says, something bored on her face. A look she normally sends guys like Peterson, not Tommy. She’s supposed to like him.

“We’re different though, aren’t we Stevie,” Carol coos, sticky and fake.

“Yeah, you can see ‘em sure.”

“Little girl on girl like when I sleepover?”

Carol with her pale hand on Stevie’s golden skin. Cupping each other’s tits, Carol's nipples were sensitive, Stevie is so good with her hands, big for a girl’s sure but dextrous. A thumb brushing over the nub even through Carol’s rosy bra -- and he’s an idiot, of course he bought this lingerie for Stevie, he knows that Carol only wears soft pinks that make her skin look dewy and flushed -- it would be enough to leave his girlfriend gasping and begging. Carrie straddling Stevie’s muscled thigh, Stevie rubbing up against Carrie’s hip, the two of them grinding -- scissoring -- against each other. Panting desperately into one another’s mouths the closer they get to release.

Would they let him watch, even if he wasn’t good enough to touch?

“Give Stevie her present, Tommy,” Carol orders.

“Stevie.” He thrusts his hand in her face, feeling less like a kid with his mom and more like one of the losers who always try to give the cheerleaders carnations at Valentine’s.

She smirks, lip pulling up at one corner, brows raised just enough to make clear that the fumbling was noticed. Stevie takes the gift from his hands, lifting herself up from the floor enough to leave lipgloss sticky kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Tommy,” she murmurs against the side of his face before disappearing into her ensuite to change with a sway of her hips.

“Why don’t you start being good right now,” Carol says, a hand rubbing up and down his thigh. “Why don’t you go downstairs and fix us both a drink. You know what we like.”

Stevie and Carol are particular.

Tommy spends most of the party trailing behind them or running to get something for them.

When he gets it right he gets rewarded. Carol kisses him rough and dirty, tongue slipping into his mouth for a second before she takes her drink. Stevie, more careful by necessity, gropes him; grabs his ass, disguises it as a locker room smack, before coming in close to pass along her thanks.

But he gets it wrong more than he gets it right. And that’s even better.

“Tommy,” Carol says, the tone she’s used with him all night the same one she uses with her dog, talking to him like he’s something sweet but dumb. “I don’t drink keg beer, remember. Go back and get me a Coors from the cooler.”

“Didn’t you watch Miller spike this with that cheap ass vodka from the plastic bottle?” Stevie asks, “I’m not drinking that. There’s still some Absolut in the freezer, splash of that in some orange juice.”

Each insult, each dig as his intelligence and ability sinks him down even further into a high he didn’t even have to pay the Freak for. He’s floating, barely thinking, just something for Stevie and Carrie to make use of.

When he’s done playing fetch, he’s a chair. Carol beckons him closer with a wave of her hand, pushing him down onto the sofa before wiggling down into his lap, worsening and hiding a problem that had been steadily growing with each barb and errand. An ache he could feel but hoped would be taken care of if he just kept being good. It’s just them for the first time since Stevie went to change. She’s across the room, taking John Peters for a ride, pretending like she doesn’t have a pool table in her own basement that she’s basically a pro with. He’s with it enough to tell that they’re getting to the part of the game where she convinces her opponent to put some money down, one leg hiked up onto the table nearly bent in half over top of it.

“Look at her.” The music is loud enough that Carol’s speaking voice, the sultry warmth of it, is covered. “Can you see the way Stevie’s showing off the pretty panties you got her.”

And he can. Bent over the side of the table, her shirt has come untucked from the back of her pants and visible over the top is the yellow strap of her thong.

“Think she’s showing off for you? Think she’s got her ass up in the air so you can see how much she loves that special set you picked out for her? Or do you think she’s hoping someone like Johnny will see it and actually show her a good time?”

“Care,” he’s whining now, desperate and hard underneath her.

“What? Do you want me to talk about what I think she’s going to let you do to her? How sweet you’ve been and what you’ve earned? She likes giving head so much it’s probably time someone returns the favor.

“You can suck her off, see how she fills out those panties.”

It sounds like an order and it’s overwhelming in a thousand different ways. He rests his head against her back to help hide the way he moans.

“If you do a good job maybe you can even play with her tits while I ride you.”

He’s panting, rough and hot into the back of the blouse she’s wearing, “Carrie, I can’t. I can’t.”

She shifts in his lap again and the sharp dig of her fingernails in his cheek is the only thing that keeps him from blowing his load right there. He’s dragged into eye contact, staring deep into the blue ringed black of her eyes. She’s turned on too.

“At your limit, baby?” she coos, and it’s condescending but sincere. He knows all her inflections even when he’s higher than god and dumber than dirt. “Go get Stevie and we’ll go home. First night of spring break and we’ve already got that big house to ourselves.”

She slips out of his lap, with that last tease, sending him stumbling toward Stevie with a slap to the ass. Tommy stumbles forward, shuffles his feet forward to get to his other best girl. Brain clouding over everything except for his task and what’s going to happen when they get back to Stevie’s room.

There’s money at the edge of the table, and Peters is lining up a shot when Tommy makes it over. He feels drunk, probably looks it, and when he feels like a balloon whose tether is barely being held onto he thinks it’s fine that he lets himself slump into her side. “We’re ready to head out.”

A pile of crumpled bills sits on the edge of the table. Three striped balls sit in a crooked line and the eight ball is beside the corner pocket. Stevie starts to lean her cue against the table when Peters scoffs, “You always go running when you’re called, Harrington. We’re in the middle of the game, there’s money on the table.”

Stevie rolls her eyes, and the money that the guy could have had vanishes even if he doesn’t know it yet. “I usually listen when a girl tells me she’s almost finished,” Stevie says as she waves at Carol, the bitchy little finger wave they used to do in the high school hallway to acknowledge that something has held one of them up. “That’s why I get so many. Maybe it’s why you don’t.”

“You really going to admit to fucking Hagan’s girl right in front of him.”

“If that’s what you think you heard.” Stevie says with a dismissive flick of her hair. “It’s my turn, right? I’m getting bored.”

Peters gestures toward the table, an attitude problem that Tommy clocks through the syrupy slowness his brain has settled into. He pulls his attention closer to the surface of the thick molasses sweetness it’s settled into. Keeping one eye on the way Stevie swaggers to the table and another on the growing problem that is her opponent.

With a decisive stroke, she sinks the line of balls into the side pocket, each of them rolling in one after the other like well behaved school children. She locks eyes with Peters then, ruining the game but making it clear just what mistake he made, as she sends the 8 ball tumbling into the corner pocket.

“Good game, John Boy,” she says, not bothering to look at him as she grabs the pile of bills from the edge and thumbs through each one.

Stevie doesn’t usually take victory laps, but she does like to make people sit in the consequences of their stupid choices occasionally. Doing it now means she misses the way John Peters’ face storms over and the way he menaces toward her.

Tommy doesn’t. And with his higher brain function hidden somewhere deep in a closet. Put to sleep by the way Carol and Stevie have handled him all night. He doesn’t have a chance of stopping the dumber, primal parts of him from reaching forward grabbing the other guy’s arm in a tight fisted grip before he can do something stupid like try to hit Stevie. Violence isn’t his normal go-to. When his brain hasn’t been sanded down by sweet condescension he prefers breaking the tension with a shitty joke or two. But he likes the way he can feel the bones in John’s wrist grind together in his hold. “Don’t.”

“Call off your fucking guard dog, Harrington.” There’s a waver in the plea, a tiny bit of fear that makes him feel almost as good as the obvious pleasure on Stevie’s face.

“If you weren’t being a sore loser I wouldn’t need the guard,” she muses, but Tommy knows her tells. He doesn’t let go until he sees the flick of amusement kissing her smile, right before she says, “Down boy, heel.”

Still he gives one more threatening squeeze to John’s arms before he bares his teeth and lets go. It makes Stevie laugh, which is all Tommy cares about, and the sound of it makes Carol perk up from her spot on the sofa like one of those little prairie rats at the zoo.

Time to go.

Stevie is particular. Likes things neat, tidy, contained.

It means the bed he’s sitting on is actually made. The navy comforter, soft under his palms, is pulled up to the pillows. The sheets beneath probably pulled into hospital corners.

It means she folds each piece of clothing she pulls off Carol. He stares, hungry eyes flitting between the two of them, the milky and freckled skin of Carol’s back and the spread of Stevie’s hand against it. The rosy pink bra gets flicked open with a pinch of two fingers.

“Are you watching, Tom? There’s gonna be a quiz,” Stevie asks, bringing her opposite hand up to pinch a dusky nipple he can just make out in the side profile.

“You’re, ah, confusing the metaphor,” Carrie teases, back arching to put her closer to Stevie who rewards her, bending down to soothe that pinch with a talented mouth.

“Right,” Steve agrees, pulling her mouth away from Carol’s tits long enough to send him a predatory smile. “He’s our puppy.”

He’d be embarrassed by the noise that leaves his mouth if he was thinking much at all any more.

The girls share a look, giggling in a way that makes him feel small and dumb and fantastic.

“That’s a game to play some other time.”

“Feeling impatient, Stevie.”

“Like you aren’t?” She straightens up, sliding her hand up Carol’s thigh. Moving slowly so Tommy can track every inch of creamy skin disappearing and reappearing from under her olive-toned palm. So he can see how her fingers disappear beneath Carol’s pretty purple skirt.

“Wanna guess how wet she is, baby?”

“Please,” Tommy hears himself beg.

“God, Stevie, your fingers,” Carol moans, louder than she’s ever been with him. Turning to catch his eyes from over her shoulder, barely able to hold them open.

“You’re still dressed, baby. You wouldn’t be able to do anything if we came over.” Steie says. Her fingers working in Carrie’s pussy just a vague movement he can barely make out from under the skirt.

“Maybe he’s waiting on you, Stevie. You’re still hiding his special present.” she manages to pant out.

And she is. Carol is half-dressed, tits bare with her skirt still on, one hand clinging to Stevie’s arm. Stevie is fully dressed, arousal evident as she stares down Tommy. Even though they’re in equal states, Tommy feels stripped naked.

Bare beneath Stevie’s knowing gaze.

“That must be it,” Stevie agrees. “Can you get me undressed, baby? Can you do it before I get Carrie off?”

Stevie has a challenge on her face that Tommy is familiar with. The kind they used to share at sleepovers right before a dare, a bet. He’s been trained by years of ‘betcha can’ts’ and triple dog dares.

He tumbles off the bed, mussing the covers in his haste to get to them. Carol is close, he knows, and even though the mess makes Stevie tutt disappointedly every second is one closer to losing.

Crouched on the floor, kneeling at their feet, Tommy can hear the sound of Stevie’s fingers inside Carol. The slick, wet sound of how turned on she is louder than the quick and heavy way she’s breathing. There’s a decision he has to make now, can see in the smug curl of Stevie's lip the choice will have to be all his, what half of his present does he reveal first?

There wasn’t actually any choice. Even as he’s nose to fly with Stevie, Tommy has his hands buried in her stupid shirt. Pushing it up and revealing the trail of hair that’s disappearing into her jeans, the hint of yellow sticking out above them that he hopes he’ll get to see later.

Tommy keeps pushing. Up, up to his toes, revealing more skin as Stevie’s shirt moves up to. Up over her head, off one arm.

It dangles, caught at the elbow of the arm still bringing Carol closer and closer to the edge. Any other time it would be funny, perfect, particular Stevie at any sort of odds. But Tommy's a bit distracted.

With the shirt gone his hands can move back down. Can flirt with the soft cotton on her chest, feel the way the flowers embroidered along the cups are rough against his palms as he cups and squeezes. He relishes in the more firm give of them, more muscled than Carol’s but just as much fun to hold.

Like she can sense him thinking that, shoulder to shoulder like they are Carol turns licking a line up his arm where skin is exposed. The warning he knows to expect before she’s biting down on his cloth covered shoulder. Stevie might have brought her to climax but he’s the tool she’s using to keep herself grounded. His body throbs at the thought, his shoulder where her teeth grind and elsewhere in the places where he’s hard and aching.

Carol lets go. Kisses the spot once, twice. Gasping against his arm, hot breath causing a chill down his spine now, as Stevie pulls out.

The shirt Tommy couldn’t remove slumps down to the floor. The crumpled pile erotic in an abstract way his lit professor would want him to explain. He might have even been able to, if Stevie didn’t bring two wet fingers up to his mouth. They tap his bottom lip, sliding in any way before he can open, rough against his palate and pushing until they can curl back to flirt with his throat. Carol is heavy on his tongue, heavy against his side.

“If you don’t tell him what to do he’ll just grope you all night.” Carrie tells Stevie. She gives him a light shove just too make sure the dig lands.

“It's only the second pair he's ever touched, I thought I'd let him have a little fun.”

The bed squeaks as Carrie throws herself down on it. “Suit yourself,” she says, “I can’t come from his hands fumbling around like he’s trying to open his locker again, but you’ve always been special.”

He’s found her nipple, rubs the bud of it.

“Oh, left 32, right 18, left 67,” Stevie moans fake as that porno he slipped out of the back room at Family Video. Just like that video, he still gets hot.

“Come over here,” Carol purrs, sweet as she can be. She pats the bed beside her and Stevie shrugs off his hands to crawl up into the bed beside her. A hand cupped around one ear, a familiar sight, his two girls whispering, giggling.

“You really think he’s earned it,” Stevie asks, loud enough for Tommy to hear on purpose. Her eyes flick up and down him as a coy smile plays on her lips.

“No,” Carol says, a matching smile on hers. “But if you let him I’ll play with you so you can actually get off.”

“Can’t find your clit so you think he won’t be able to find mine.” Tommy flashes hot under the collar of the shirt he’s still wearing. Stevie’s grin has tipped over from coy to wry, she’s the cat playing with his canary.

“Maybe I wanna have a little fun with you too, babe.”

They're beautiful together, curled into each other on their sides. Only showing off the softest angles of themselves. Soft breasts and the curve of Stevie's gorgeous ass. He would be fine, standing here like a limp dick just watching them play and tease one another. Trading spit that still tastes like house party screwdrivers and shitty beer while they use their hands and bodys to rub one another off. Panting, laughing, squealing, half of the fun in the fact that he only gets to watch and they get to decide what he sees.

He'd be fine with that. His girls are particular and they always know what's going to please them.

Stevie rolls over, shimmies and rolls her hips to work those too tight jeans down. Finally showing the way she's hot and wet and straining against the soft yellow thong he gave her. Carol is already playing with her, running two fingers around the tip.

“Try to get your pants off, Stud.” Stevie orders, “I'll let you get up close with my boobies.”

Carrie's free hand reaches over, pinches Stevie’s nipple hard enough to make her writhe. Tommy struggles harder with the zip on his pants, desperate to get them off.

“That word is disgusting,” Carol says with a sniff. Still playing with Stevie’s clit the same way Tommy has watched her play with herself, two fingers rubbing in slow circles before she drags her thumb down in a firm line.

“Prude, you and Robin should play together.”

There's something small and devious in her smile that he decides is for Stevie to handle. He is too worried about the way the band of the bra he bought is being folded, curled carefully he assumes for him.

“If he were smarter I'd say he planned this,” Carrie says. “No underwire, that silky band.”

“We'll see how it holds up, you know I hate when people ruin my things when they're careless.”

His shirt is still on. Dick out and leaking, he'll definitely stain it. It's more important to get on the bed, to crawl up the side Carol isn't on. “Throw your leg over. Try not to act like such a virgin.” Stevie demands.

He does, straddles her chest, tucking his knees into the hollow beneath her arms. She grins when he's settled into place, reaches up to yank his shirt off before bringing both hands up to push her tits together.

He thursts once, by accident, dick slipping under the band of the bra gripped by it and the shallow channel she’s made for him. Tommy looks, locks eyes with her feeling like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar. Instead of chatizing, instead of lecture, she raises a brow and it says ‘just this once he can have dessert before dinner.’ Or maybe it says ‘good dog’ or ‘A+’, he’s lost track of what’s he’s supposed to be other than theirs and listening.

The hand on Carol’s side of the bed lets go. Moved down until it’s making her whine, touching her sensitive places, Stevie getting her fingers wet again too soon after the first time. And as Carol bites at Stevie’s neck and shoulder with a renewed focus on getting the other woman to cum, Stevie is getting him wet.

She takes that slick she’s gathered from Carol, mixes it with the pre he’s been leaking all night.

When she’s done she presses her tits back togheter. Tommy is still looking her in the eyes, stunned, when she spits.

It drips down the head, pools in the concave of her chest. “Be a good boy and get yourself off.”

Tommy doesn’t need to be told twice. Is barely given permission before he’s rutting against her chest. Chasing that friction, the release he’s been craving for hours. He’s been on edge for longer than he’s ever been before, he feels like some sad virgin. A two-pump chump. Like a stiff breeze could do him in. And right as he’s reaching the precipice, Stevie grabs ahold of him and pushes once again.

Tongue out, she catches him on the upward thrust. Swirls that pink, pink tongue around the head.

And he’s done for.

He cums hard. Catching Stevie's mouth, her chin, dripping down her chest. A pearl necklace that touches the edges of those yellow, triangle cups.

Hard enough that he isn't sure he's not just dreaming of how good she looks. Cause he's pretty sure once he finally cums he blacks out.

Sometime, he’s not even sure how much later, he realizes that Stevie and Carol are talking. Tommy has been manuvered into the middle. Flat on his back, Carol is sitting high on the bed, propped up by pillows and running her fingers through his hair; her nails scratch at his scalp every few passes. Stevie is tucked in tight to his side, nose buried into his chest, head pillowed on his arm.

“All I'm saying is I thought she was hot when she had that awful perm junior year.’

“You can't call dibs on a person, that's feminism.” Stevie murmurs back, answer slow and half slurred with sleep.

“She’s your best friend. Convince her when you go pick her up from campus tomorrow.”

Stevie snorts, an ugly, ungraceful sound that usually means she's thought of something she isn't going to share. “What's in it for me?”

They both know he's awake again, they know each other too well for the girls not to. But if he wasn't sure, Carol sinking her fingers in his hair and tugging, pulling him up and baring his neck for Stevie would cinch it for him.

“I'll let you play with the puppy,” she says. “You can have him all to yourself.”

“Yeah, okay, deal.” Stevie’s smile spreads slow across her face, he can feel it against the thin skin of his ribs.

A shiver runs down his spine, fear, arousal, anticipation. He can only imagine the plans Stevie must be dreaming up for just the two of them. She is, after all, very particular.

#stomarol #my fic #smut #genderfluid steve harrington #stevie harrington #mild referenced puppy play #sorry i cant help myself i love a little dog imagery in my dom/sub #some implied bubblescoops too #its my new favorite thing ive been rotating it in my brain #mean girls trio #fun fact this was going to be my stevie week day 7 fic and then i never finished it #anyway enjoy

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