#i think im trying to hard to force myself to be okay and move on | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

girlboybug · 2 years ago

Text

Ultraviolence

"he hit me and it felt like a kiss."

or the one where ellie finds refuge in your farm house, whereas joel only finds a challenge of self restraint when he meets you.

what’s playing 🎧 : ultraviolence by lana del rey

pairing : joel miller x female!reader

word count : 9k

CONTENT WARNINGS : SMUT, mean!joel, virgin!reader, loss of virginity, manhandling, rough sex, spitting, slight voyeurism if you squint, f!masturbation, m!masturbation, spanking, fingering, slight dom/sub dynamics, panties fetish, creampies, unprotected sex, breeding kink, light restraining, choking, tummy bulge, impact play if u kinda squint and tilt ur head, degrading, light praise, daddy kink im sorry yall (not rlly), unspecified age gap, dirty talk, fluff for 2 seconds at the end :p

TRIGGER WARNINGS : reader has emotionally absent/verbally abusive dad, takes place after the david incident but there's zero mention of it lolz just background for yall, joel is mean and rude tbh, kinda very toxic but im addicted to old toxic men sowwy (plz dont ever let a man treat yall like this irl!!) anyways this is all i can think of, lmk if i missed anything! otherwise pls enjoy!! <3

a/n : wouldn't be a fic written by user girlboybug if the reader didn't have raging daddy issues lolz

there’s creaking at the front patio, the old wood worn down by countless stomps from your boots never failed to act as an alerting system for any trespassers. your heart sinks when you force yourself to get up, the responsibility to inspect the origins of the noise falling on your shoulders alone.

yippie.

your hand finds its hold around the neck of your dad’s shotgun, sock covered feet waiting a pregnant pause at your door, swallowing down the brunt of your nerves thickly. you inch out the door, holding the shotgun as steady as you can, eyes fighting to not fail you by succumbing to the night blur that glazes over your vision.

your sights land on a figure of a man, anxiety hitting you with the heel of its fist into your nervous system once his silhouette becomes clear before you. you pointedly aim at him, praying that the act seems intimidating enough. “you’re trespassin’” you call out, prompting him to raise his hands beside his head, keeping his movements slow and careful as to not give you a reason to shoot.

“just lookin for shelter ma’am,” he replies, his voice feels deep when it hits your ears, not stopping short of rich. “not buyin’ it. now i’m not gonna repeat myself, leave before i blow your goddamn head off,” you shoot your threats in the place of bullets, but your tone gives out on you, giving in to your fear, cracking in on itself mid sentence.

a young girl moves from behind him, her hands also beside her head. “ellie,” he whisper yells, trying to move back in front of her. your hard glare falls into a guilty gaze, and your shotgun falters downward. “thought i told you to stay behind me–” she cuts him off, probably causing a vein on the side of his temple to burst with stress when she moves in front of him to speak.

“we’re just looking for somewhere to stay for the night, and we’ll be out of your hair by morning. we promise.” the now named girl swears, looking at the man that dwarfs her in size for extra confirmation. “promise her joel,” she hushedly instructs and he huffs, looking back at you. “promise.” he adds gruffly.

they look like father and daughter, and you don’t have it in you to turn them away, and despite the possibility that lingers in the back of your mind that this is all a ploy to rob you blind, you settle on the fact that it’s worth the risk to let them in.

your shotgun rests beside you, no longer using it as a shield from the fear of an impending threat. “okay,” you verbally decide, and ellie lets out a sigh of relief, leaning into joel. he holds onto her with a sense of care, of protection, and your heart pangs at the sight as they climb up onto the patio.

your lips drop open unintentionally when the man that now has a name and a face to go along with it, stands before you.

he’s tall, he’s handsome, much older than both you and the girl. “thank you ma’am,” he says, a curt nod from the top of his head, and ellie offers a small smile, joining in his nod. “thank you,” she whispers, and you smile back, moving to the side to let them in.

immediate comfort envelopes the pair, a quiet breath of it being expelled from them, and you close the door behind you, locking it to make sure that the warmth from inside doesn’t morph into the frigid wind outside.

“there anyone else with you?” joel questions, unintendedly sending a worried alert in your mind, your body language showing a visible uncomfortableness at the question.

ellie notices, nudging joel with her elbow. “dude?” she mouths, eyebrows furrowed, silently asking, what the fuck?

you find yourself trusting her more than you do him, which is just enough of an amount to get you to believe he doesn't mean to sound as sketchy as he comes across. “just me and my dad. he’s asleep upstairs,” you respond, and joel looks back at you, pursing his lips, nodding.

“i’ll show you where you guys can sleep, and i can even get you a change of clothes.” you say, flickering between the two of them before turning on your heel. they trail behind you quietly while you lead them to their temporary rooms.

walking up the stairs, and past the stretch of the hallway, you stop at one of the spare rooms, pushing open the door. “there’s this one, and then,” you lean over, pushing open a door to the room just beside it. “this one. up to you guys to decide whoever gets which,” you send them off with a nervous smile, rubbing your palms over your pajama bottoms.

“thank you,” ellie calls out, lowering her voice but keeping it at an octave audible enough for you to hear. you turn back, smiling at the young girl before going into your bedroom. you grab a pair of pajamas for the pair, trying to be quick so as to not keep them waiting.

you return to them, finding them both in the same room, sitting at the side of the bed. ellie’s head is leant against joel’s arm, his stare resting over her. the pang hits you again, but you push past it, gently tapping your knuckles over the door. his stare moves from her to you.

“these are for her, and here’re some of my dad’s old clothes for you. they should fit, but if not you can uh, let me know and i’ll find something else for you.” you set them down beside him, and he nods, a tight lipped inch of a curl over his mouth spreads just slightly, acknowledging your actions.

“these should be fine,” he places a hand over the folded clothes, where your’s was and you find yourself swallowing hard again. his hand is big.

“alright, well goodnight.” you wish kindly, making your way out the door, nodding a polite bidding. “night,” he responds, traces of southerness apparent in his vowels. “thank you,” he makes sure to say before you leave.

for everything he wants to add, but he doesn’t, which is okay, you can hear it through the crickets and the quiet peacefulness that passes through the room.

you leave him with an equally hushed response of no problem, the door closing behind you at the curt ending of your reply.

–

your eyes snap wide open, a low wince falling out at the sting from the rude awakening your body is being subjected to. your name rings as a harsh echo, and you’re quick to your feet, remembering the girl and the man staying in your home, unbeknownst to your dad. “shit,” you groan, hurriedly rushing across the hallway and down the stairs.

and there was your father, loud, angry, and yelling at…joel? if you remembered his name correctly. “who the fuck are these people and why are they tellin’ me you let them in last night?” he all but shouts, and you feel small, humiliated.

“i did, i’m sorry, they don’t mean any harm, they just needed a place to stay for the night.” you answer meekly, and joel’s fists tighten, every fiber of his being wanting nothing more than to plummet his fists into the side of your dad’s jaw.

“lord,” he exhales, shutting his eyes and pinching his nose bridge. he walks towards you, a finger pointed at your face when he speaks.

“if they wanna stay they better make themselves useful, if not, i want them out my goddamn house in 5 minutes.” he snipes irritatedly, eyeing you down with annoyance, making sure you saw the seriousness in his face before he leaves, trudging out the front door. ellie watches with sympathetic eyes as you flinch when he slams the door shut.

it’s quiet for longer than you’d like for it to be, but you’re unsure of what to say after being belittled in front of people who are virtually strangers.

“what a dick,” ellie exhales and joel looks at her, eyes wide, lips tight with chastising ready to be released. “ellie!” he chides and she raises her arms in disgruntled defense. “what? he is!”

you laugh, and they turn to you surprisedly. “yeah, he is. i’m sorry about that.” you sigh, and joel shakes his head. “no, we’re sorry, we didn’t mean to impose and cause you all that trouble.” he apologizes, genuineness in his softened tone, a pane of his thick drawl behind it, and it soothes away the feeling your dad left you with.

“it’s alright, it’s just how he is,” you say, attempting to pacify their concerns, but ellie, blows out a quiet breath, eyes slightly wider when she tilts her head side to side. “massive asshole,” she mutters, and you giggle before joel can chide her once more. she smiles at your laughter, and joel just sighs his 100th sigh.

“you guys can sit, he’ll be gone for most of the day. i can make some breakfast before you have to go?” you offer, motioning towards the dining table, desperate to move past this topic. “mighty gracious of you, but we should get goin,” joel inadvertently rejects your offers, and you frown.

ellie turns to him, a hopeful stare chipping away at his decision. “dude please, there’s only so much chef boyardee i can take.”

you stifle a laugh at her pleading, tying an apron around your waist.

“fine.” he sighs, and ellie whispers a successful yes!

–

as time went by, you grew closer to ellie, but almost as a trade off, it seemed as though joel drifted further and further from you, leaving you with no idea as to why.

you’ve been nothing but kind to him, and the more you tried to do…well, anything, it only pushed him away instead of bringing him in closer.

granted, you did do things that prompt some kind of annoyed response from joel, like right now, as joel stands in the bathroom, his eyes falling to your discarded panties on the ground.

he marches out the bathroom, searching for you. “ellie, where’s the girl?” he asks, and she can hear the irritation building in the base of his voice. “uh, outside, she’s picking some fruit, why?” she queries, turning around from her seated position on the couch to face him.

he strides towards the door, eyes glaring straight ahead. “no reason.” he replies sardonically, and ellie rolls her eyes, flipping back on the couch.

your dad had gone into the next town over to collect more supplies, do some more trading and other various things, but you didn’t care, he’s gone for the time being, and you’re happy, at ease, with more time to look after your garden and spend time leisurely picking at the fruits that hang from the trees above you.

you’re resting on your knees, overalls rolled up to your thighs, bandana covering your hairline, nimble fingers plucking at the strawberries from the array of bushes. the rays of sunlight blanketing over your skin suddenly vanishes, and you turn, hand over your forehead when you look up at joel.

“oh hi joel! strawberry?” you chirp, offering a plump strawberry, and he exhales through his nose, eyes raking over you.

you have a habit of almost never wearing bra’s, and you just about live in overalls and shorts, always accompanied by some tight fitted top.

god, you make his life so hard.

little pink ribbons are tied over the top strap buckles of your overalls, and you look so adorable that it almost makes him angry.

“no, thanks, look, i know it was your bathroom before it was mine, but for the love of god, please stop leavin’ your…undergarments on the floor.” the subtle twang increases just a notch at the way he rattles about your sightly panties.

your face gets hotter than it was from the sun and you drop your arm, looking away embarrassedly. “oh my god how embarrassing, i’m so sorry, i’m just not used to sharing my bathroom, but that’s not an excuse, i’ll take care of them, i’m sorry joel,” voice pretty and soft, just like you, and he sighs, staring at you for a thick standstill, before going back into the house. “messy girl,” he mutters to himself.

he finds his way back into the bathroom, eyeing the suspect in question, feeling the strings in his chest pull in tight. he picks up the pair with a curl of his finger, eyeing it like a foreign object.

he clenches down on his teeth when he stares at it, the pink striped cotton is soft, a little bow adorning the front of it.

he feels dizzy.

he honestly considers pocketing them, but immediate disgust kicks in and he drops them, walking out.

dirty old man.

–

you are inescapable, easily running joel’s patience down into the dirt beneath his boot. your dad is still gone, but joel and ellie listened when he said to be useful.

they help you around the house, almost doin ’more than you, joel would grumble, but no matter how much he busied himself with chores, there was hints of you in everything.

when he’s feeding the chickens or collecting their eggs, he can look not too far out and see the clothesline where you air dry their laundry, not a single thought about letting your bra’s hang from the wire, taunting joel.

he imagines you in it, the racy little red number, nipples perked behind the flimsy material, shoulder’s beckoning to slide the straps down.

“shit,” he grunts, looking down and seeing the smashed egg in his fist, squeezed to pieces from the intensity of his perverse thoughts.

sometimes he thinks you do this shit on purpose, mocking an old man with something you would never give him, and he feels like banging his head into the wall.

and in this moment he feels it’d be an especially good time to do so, exhaling sharply from his flared nostrils while he searches around for you, calling out your name, only to be met with no reply. he can’t find ellie either and he’s panicking, he’s panicking bad.

he shouts your name from the very depths of his stomach, and he pushes every door he sees open until he stops at your bedroom door, pushing inside and growling with anger when he sees you laid upside down in your bed, hands resting on your tummy with thick headphones clamped over your ears.

he stalks towards you, bending down and ripping your headphones straight off your head. your eyes snap open and you jerk upwards from the bed, clambering off the bed in the most unflattering way possible, rushing to get to your feet.

“joel what the hell? what’s going on?” you ask, and he scoffs, mad that you have the audacity to be annoyed here.

“where the fuck is ellie?” he grits out, and you sigh, snatching back your headphones when you answer. “she’s in the stable with my horse, she’s fine joel.” you promise, and he squints his eyes, shaking his head frustratedly.

“y’can’t just send her off somewhere on her own like that and not even think to tell me, and – dammit, don’t wear those goddamned headphones when i’m callin for you, god you are so irresponsible,” he rants, his voice trailing up a ledge of loud anger, and it’s your turn to get mad.

“okay joel, you need to stop fucking yelling at me, she’s still on the damn property, she isn’t gone in the next town over, i’d never put her in a situation where she could get hurt and secondly, you don’t get to talk to me like that and tell me what i can and can’t do in my own house.” you’re in his face now, making an effort to stand up for yourself, but joel isn’t tolerating any of it.

“you listen here little girl and you listen good,” he moves in closer, and you suddenly feel overly aware of his proximity, almost immediately backing down to move away, but no, you wanted to talk back like a big girl, you’re going to face the consequences of one.

“you best lose that nasty fuckin’ attitude of your’s, i don’t care if this is your house or not, it ain’t an excuse to act like a goddamned thoughtless brat.” he’s breathing heavier now, his face too close to your’s, chest dangerously nearing your own.

your eyes nictate back and forth in his, desperately suppressing the tears that imperil at your waterline, biting on your bottom lip to stop it from wobbling. “you’re such an asshole,” is all you can manage to fire back through a weak excuse of a response.

he scoffs at you, stepping back before marching out your room. “no shit sweetheart,” he sneers with a lowered baseline of exasperation.

you fall back on your bed when he’s gone and out of earshot, holding your face in your hands, allowing yourself to let out the tears that almost spilled out in front of joel.

your fists wipe the tears away, angry that they were even there, each stream down your cheek is a reminder of who caused them.

refusing to give in to the pain that gnaws at your chest from his spewing anger, you get up, walking out your room, deciding to make your way around back to the stables.

ellie was saddled over applejack, your only horse, with joel sitting behind her, his arms wrapped around her, keeping her steady, keeping her safe.

the gnawing bites down harder inside your chest, and you’re unable to fight against it. instead you cradle yourself, comforting the ache while leaning against the bulk of the tree behind you, watching them interact.

his gaze over her is so soft, so full of care, of love, and he’s laughing, which enables her laughter, and you find yourself smiling as you watch them despite what had just transpired.

you watch as ellie plops the cowboy hat you had left on applejack’s saddle over his head, and your back gets stiff against the bark of the tree when she does.

he fixes the hat atop his head, and it annoyingly suits him well.

he looks like a proper cowboy.

your eyes drift down to the way his hips roll with each trot from applejack, his back leant naturally, looking relaxed, confident, like he knows what he’s doing, and that he knows he does it well.

his hand runs over the side of applejack lovingly, his strong hand smoothing over her coat, and you feel like crumbling down into the soil of the earth, breathing in a little harder when you imagine those rough, strong hands of his on your skin instead.

you reach up, pulling a peach from the tree above your head, settling down to sit and just watch the two gallop along with applejack.

joel’s eyes find you, they always do, and almost like she just knew, ellie decides to lead applejack back over to where you are. joel’s hands tighten over the reins, jaw clenching when they make their way over to you.

“well hi there sweet girl,” you coo, petting applejack when she bends her neck downward, greeting you happily.

you bite down into your peach, laughing quietly to yourself when the juice spills down your cleavage. joel follows the way the juice rolls down your chest, disappearing behind the pesky coverage of your tank top, and he feels like it's a punishment for his previous yelling.

you hand the rest of the peach into applejack’s mouth, cooing an, aww there you go sweet girl.

“damn these look good.” ellie whistles, reaching up to pluck a peach down.

she drops it, and she groans when it hits the ground. “i got it, don’t worry!” you remedy, turning around to bend down and grab it for her. joel feels like dying when he sees the heart curve of your ass, it’s almost too perfect, and he wonders if this is how his heart finally gives out.

kinda looks like a peach… he thinks to himself, eyes tracing over the form of your ass for as long as he can before you’re turning back to face them.

you go up on your tippy toes, quickly grabbing another peach, handing the new one to ellie and tossing the one that fell over to joel.

“you get that one,” you half tease, half huff, and ellie laughs, waving her clean peach at joel. his eyes settle on you while you talk to ellie, ignoring his presence.

his teeth sinks down into the peach, his stare trickling over the way you’re squeezed into those stupid fucking tiny shorts, and he thinks about a different type of flesh to bite into.

–

nighttime visits your household once more, but it’s anything but peaceful for you and joel.

ellie knocked out as soon as she collapsed in her bed, but joel’s wide awake. he wants to sleep, wants to forget this day even happened, but he can’t. he replays everything despite his efforts to pretend that the events from today didn’t even occur.

however, guilt drags its spindly fingers across the muscle of his heart while flashes of his loud anger directed at you forces itself to be acknowledged behind his eyelids. with a disgruntled huff he rips the blankets off his body, climbing out of bed.

he pushes past the door, making his way to your room to apologize for his harshness.

the closer he gets to your room, the more he hears a concerning sound gently echoing from behind the door. his brows fly up and he grips at your doorknob, turning it. his knuckles tighten over the knob, his body standing still and stiff in the cracked entrance when he sees you.

you’re sprawled in your bed, sheets hanging off you, covering not a single thing, leaving joel to wonder if what he’s looking at is real or not, and if it is, should he even be looking at you like this?

he knows the answer to that, it's a big fat resounding no, but joel doesn’t exactly have the purest morals of all time, so he stays in spite of his conscience telling him to close the door.

he watches your head roll side to side tirelessly, back arching off the bed, bucking your hips into your hand, struggling to pleasure yourself the way you need. your fingers keep sliding off your poor clit, too soaked to keep a good grip on it.

it sounds sticky, even from where joel stands, it’s all so fucking dirty, your sweet little whimpers going straight to his cock, pushing up against his sweatpants that already hang low off his hips.

he palms at himself, trying to alleviate the throbbing ache. his eyes follow the curve of your bare chest, your tight tank top under your chin, pretty tits in the air, hard nipples that are begging to be in joel’s mouth.

you whine to yourself, eyes watering with frustration when your fingers refuse to stay put on your needy clit, trying to instead fill your fluttering hole that clenches around nothing.

joel’s fingernails dig into the doorframe, physically restraining himself from going in there and shoving himself so far into you that it hits your cervix, stretching you nice and open for him.

he thinks about how he’d make you take it, how you’d claw down his back while he fucks you like you deserve.

he feels disgusting, like a goddamn pervert, but he again wins the battle against any morals he has left and stays to watch. you sound so wet its fucking ridiculous, he just wants to lap it all up on his tongue and drink you in.

but what he really wants, is to make you beg, to make you cry.

you further test his will, when his name floats from your trembling lips, his jaw going slack at the unreal moan. his hand falls to his straining cock, squeezing it, silently pleading with you to be good and say it one more time for him, to confirm he heard you right.

and you do, you whimper his name, an airy little, joel, while grinding down on your finger, trying to angle your hips to hit a spot you hardly ever have success in satiating.

good girl, he grits without a sound, his thumb brushing over the tip of his cock.

you think back to him yelling at you, ignoring the pain of the memory, and instead rewriting how the fight ended. your brain conjures up an alternate ending, where he bends you over the foot of your bed, smacking his hand over the fat of your ass before he rams himself inside you.

you think about his back curling over yours, his cock too deep inside you, muttering for you to fuckin’ take it.

he’d have his face in the crook of your neck, his beard would tickle your skin while the dirtiest words you can think of would be listed off in your ear.

his beard, your hips rise in the air desperately, your mind now imagining his stubble between your thighs, how his mustache would brush over your clit until it’s raw. “please, want it joel, want it so bad,” you moan to yourself in a pleading fluttery little voice, and joel almost steps forward at your begging.

i’ll give it you, he promises to himself, wishing he could tell you instead.

he can’t fucking take it, he drinks in the bare sight of you once more, memorizing each curve, the way your voice trembles, the way your legs shake, the plump of your thighs and chest, and fuck, he thinks he’ll pass out before he can even make it back to his room.

he carefully closes the door, striding hurriedly back to his bed. he shuts his door, making an immediate dash to his awaiting mattress.

he pulls the blanket over his hips, tugging down his sweatpants and letting his cock spring up. he uses his precum as lube, too impatient to spit in his hand. he fists at his fat cock, pushing past the roughness from his palm, pretending that it’s your soft hand wrapped around him.

he thinks back to what he just saw, imagining that he did step inside, closing the door behind him before making his way to you.

you’d probably get scared at the sudden sight of him in front of you, but he imagines that you’d be too desperate to care about his actions.

you’d grab his wrist, bringing his hand to your poor little cunt. “touch me, please joel?” you’d plead with those watery eyes of yours, and he would, he’d touch you until you couldn’t take it.

but he’d make you take it, he’d stretch you out on his fingers before he’d get his cock in you. he can only fantasize about how good your tight little cunt would feel all around him, how snug you’d be, gripping him in, but no matter how hard he tries to pretend, he knows his imagination does your pussy no justice to how good it’d actually be.

he starts fucking his hand, head falling back into his pillow, his bicep’s flexing with straint while he goes to squeeze his cockhead, traveling back down to his shaft, struggling to please every inch of himself.

he wonders if you’re a virgin, wonders if anyones gotten to see you like how he did, or did they get to experience it themselves?

he gets jealous at the thought, but he erases it, instead thinking of the possibility of no one ever getting to touch you but him.

yeah, he likes that, he likes thinking about being the first and last cock you’ll ever have deep inside you. shit, he growls, thumbing over his leaking tip, he’s close.

he starts panting, chest falling more rapidly with heavy breaths, his hand working over himself faster now, the slick from his pumping fist around his cock is embarrassingly loud, but he uses it and pretends it’s the sound of him in your pussy, and that does it for him.

he cums in his fist, slowly thrusting into the tunnel of his hand before he releases himself, and he groans, letting his body sink deeper into his bed.

fuckin’ disgustin’ he mutters to himself.

–

he can barely look at you the next morning, he feels hot all over when you so much as walk past him, your scent always trailing behind you and filling his senses.

you smell like the sweetest form of vanilla and it makes him unstable, feeling like he’s gotta hold onto something to remain upright when you’re near him.

you make your own soap, and, of course you make your own fuckin’ soap, he thinks to himself, growing weaker by the second when you talk about how you used vanilla beans in your recipe for soap.

you offer to make some for him, but he declines as politely as he can, finding any excuse to establish some space. he can’t be near you, not now, and not later, he needs time to remind himself what self control is.

he decides to chop some firewood, the nights are getting colder and colder anyways, and he thinks this’ll be a good distraction for him.

he pours all his frustration into it, swinging the axe from behind his shoulder and down into the blocks of wood, chopping them up into logs.

sweat lines his forehead, his biceps bulging from the tight constraints of his rolled up flannel, and you watch from the window, staring at him as he leans back, taking in a few deep breaths while he wipes his forehead before continuing.

you swish your thighs together, walking away when you realize if you don’t move now, you’ll stay the rest of the day just watching him.

after a few hours outside, joel is beat, he thinks he deserves a break. he trudges back inside, sighing when he’s greeted with the fresh air conditioned breeze.

your legs hang off the arm of the couch, head resting on a cushion and buried in a magazine.

he eyes your legs while he walks into the bathroom, almost unable to tear away from them. but when he walks through the door, he closes his eyes immediately once they land on the ground, as if the sight before him physically hurts.

he exhales with aggravation when he sees your white cotton panties on the floor, and your cream lacy bra hanging off the towel rack, mocking him.

he’s had enough.

he stomps out the bathroom, and you brace yourself for the latest lecture when you hear the nearing ruckus of his boots connecting to the wood floors.

he yells your name, his voice curling around the curve of an upward rage. “what joel,” you yell back mockingly, he stands above you, looking furiously down at you.

“what did i tell you about your goddamn panties and bra in the fuckin’ bathroom,” he shouts, jabbing his thumb back towards the bathroom. you huff, swinging your legs from the arm of the couch, rising to your feet. “i’m sorry!” you throw your arms up annoyedly.

“i’ll get ‘em, i understand it’s annoying but joel you don’t need to yell over every. fuckin’. thing, you can talk to me like a normal person,” you contradict your own words, pointing a finger at him while you shout back.

he grabs your finger, pulling your wrist down and away from his face, beaming anger glinting in his eyes.

“thought i told you to get rid of that nasty fuckin’ attitude little girl,” he spits, words hanging in the air like a venomous gas, and you all but growl with irritation.

“i’m not a little girl and you’re not my dad, y’don’t get to talk to me like that you fucking dick,” you bark back, feeling a sudden fear when you see the way he’s looking at you.

his top lip curls with disdain, and he nods slightly to himself, like he’s just mentally made his decision.

he grabs you by your upper arm, dragging you along with him back around to the couch. “let me go,” you try pulling your arm from him, but it does nothing, his grip is stronger than your efforts.

he sits down, pulling you into his lap, grabbing you roughly and repositioning you so your tummy rests over his thighs. “what are you doin–” he holds your jaw, forcing you to crane your neck to face him.

“i’m gettin’ real sick of your fuckin’ back talk, you say you’re not a little girl yet all you do is act like one, a real rude one at that,” he grits in your face, and you feel small, wishing the couch would just swallow you whole.

“i ain’t your dad but you need some serious fuckin’ discipline,” he lets go of your jaw, letting you fall back into the cushion. he unhooks your overalls, pulling them down and under your ass.

he exhales lowly when he sees the hypnotic curve of your ass, clad in baby blue polka dotted underwear, it’s too cute that it makes him sick.

he doesn’t even think when his hand runs over your ass, smoothing over your skin, squeezing the thick flesh in his large palms. you whimper under your breath, squirming in his hold. “stay still,” he orders, his tone cold, riding on a mean line of pointed annoyance.

“you’re gonna say you’re sorry with every one of ‘em, you hear me girl?” he asks, resting his hand on your ass testingly.

you nod quietly, but it isn’t good enough, he’s grabbing your face again, forcing eye contact. “when i ask you a question you answer.” he sneers, teeth baring for a second and you squeeze your thighs together, feeling your clit ache embarrassingly from the harsh treatment.

“i hear you.” you reply meekly, and it suffices, because he’s letting go of your jaw, refocusing on the new task he has at hand, or rather, in his lap.

he rests his palm over one cheek, causing you to suck in a sharp breath, the warmth from his hand tingling your skin.

your clit is right up against his knee, and you want more than anything to rut on it, roll your hips to gain any kind of friction, but you figure you’re in enough trouble as it is so it’s best to hold back these desires.

he raises his hand, slamming it back down and eliciting a loud smack that resonates around the room. you cry out, gripping onto the cushion under you. “i’m sorry,” you whimper out, skin prickling with heat.

he does it again, his heavy hand rising up only to crash back down against the fat of your ass. “i’m sorry,” your voice trembles, your eyes already beginning to water, despite the fact that you’re just barely getting started.

he slaps over your ass, hard. his rough calloused palm emitting an even stronger sting over your soft skin, and you cry out, kicking your legs against the armrest of the couch, feeling the anger increasing with each rough impact from his palm.

“i’m so-orry,” you hiccup, wiping away the tears streaming down your cheeks. he continues with the abuse on your ass, feeling a twinge of guilt at the way you cry but manage to say your apologies with each relentless hit to your bottom one after the other.

“you gonna listen to me when i tell you to do somethin’?” he raises his voice, along with his hand, letting it fall down onto your pounding flesh when you don’t answer fast enough. “yes, yes gonna listen,” you wail, little feet kicking with pain.

“gonna lose that fuckin’ attitude of your’s?” he grunts, smacking your ass hard over where he just hit, watching you howl in anguish, back trying to arch away from the pain.

“yes,” you sob, nodding with earnest.

you’ve lost count of how many it’s been, the only thing that remains consistent is the hot pain that comes in waves over your bruising skin, the welts in the shape of his hand throbbing and aching in never ending flashes.

he rubs over your skin, soothing the soreness away, before he drops his hand against it once more, erasing the little comfort he was giving you.

you’re apologizing through loud wailing, not a care in the world for how embarrassing it is to be sobbing in joel’s lap, because it fucking hurts.

he swats over your ass, fast and rough, letting the sting of it settle into a prickling pain that spreads down to the backs of your thighs.

after a few more hard hits to your ass, he figures you’ve had enough, your crying making him feel a pang of remorse for not taking it easier on you. he runs his hand over your scorched bottom, mending the abused flesh in an attempt to calm you down.

you’re crying, lashes getting slick from your tears, lips growing plump with the loud hiccups of pain. he massages over your ass, gently this time, but your skin feels too raw to enjoy it.

his self restraint is weakening, he can’t stop himself when he tilts his head back, leaning into the couch to look down at your inner thighs. he sees a wet patch spreading over your panties, and he scoffs, bringing two fingers to it.

you gasp, trying to wriggle away from it, but he keeps you still. “interestin’” he half snickers, and you just about die of humiliation.

“reckon you want me to do somethin’ about this?” he murmurs, voice gruffly cascading in the teeming air. he circles over the wet patch, giving you a chance to turn him down, shut down his advances, but you don’t want to.

you bend a little, arching into his touch. “please?’ you whimper, all embarrassment gone from the pain, and he inhales a hefty breath, swallowing thickly.

he slides your panties to the side, drawing his fingers up and down your slick. you shiver, tightening your legs around him.

“can’t believe you’re soaked over that,” he taunts meanly, judgingly, and you whimper, your face getting hot from the base of your throat when he pushes in his middle finger.

“you’re s’mean,” you sniffle and he scoffs at your complaints, pushing his finger in deeper to watch you gasp and shake.

“i showed you what mean is,” he chuckles lowly, leaning down to make sure you hear him. he shifts his hips around, pressing something to your hip, making sure you feel it.

“and this ain’t mean,” he curls his finger right up into that little spot you struggled to reach last night. he starts curling his finger, right there, and suddenly you can’t breathe, you can’t even believe this is happening, but whether it’s real or not you don’t want it to stop.

“more,” you whine, pushing back on his hand with a devout need. his free hand grips at the bruising flesh of your ass, the plumpness of it filling the gaps between his fingers, and you wince, little hands trying to grip at the cushions for comfort.

“you’re a greedy little girl with no fuckin’ manners. do i need to do this all over again just to remind you to say please?” he raises his hand back up over your ass, and you’re shaking your head, turning back at him pleadingly. “n-no, no, i’m so sorry,” you whimper, the backs of your hands covering your stinging bottom feebly.

he laughs at your attempts, but decides he’ll let it slide. he moves your hands away, and pushes his finger back inside, filling you up to the knuckle. you moan deeply, relief at the pleasure entering you once more. the way he fucks you with his finger is all you need to even begin trying to ignore the resounding pain he instilled into your ass.

little pants leave past your lips, your cheek squished against the couch while you try to fuck yourself onto his fingers. “feel’s s’good,” you drool.

he can’t stop the downward spiral he’s letting himself fall into with you, he’s in too deep, and he’s just accepted that he wants to go deeper.

you’re rutting your clit against his knee just how you’ve been wanting to this whole time, and he watches you as a desperate little wet thing in his lap trying to get off with what he’s giving you.

"you know i saw you last night," he whispers in your ear, beard tickling your neck when he leans in real close, his finger picking up speed when he continues.

your face burns hot, and you can't bear to look at him. "oh god," you moan, half from pleasure, half from pure humiliation.

"heard you sayin' my name too, there somethin' you wanna tell me?" he pushes you a little further, watching and waiting to see how you reply.

you're so disoriented, you can't think straight past the embarrassment and the feeling of joel refusing to let up with his finger inside you. he rubs over that perfect spot right there, and it feels so good that it almost kills the shame that burrows itself under your skin.

"n-no? no, i dunno," you whine dumbly, and he rolls his eyes, flicking his wrist harder now, gripping the hand of yours that tries to hold onto him. "you don't know?" he parrots back mockingly.

"you just so happened to be tryin' to finger yourself while moanin' my name? that just a coincidence?" his words jab at your cheeks with taunts and you whimper, hiding your face away from him, still shamelessly grinding down onto him when he works another finger in you, stretching you out.

"i'm sorry," is all you can whimper, you feel stupid with his fingers in you, bullying your poor cunt until it makes that addictive pap pap pap sound. "apologizin' for the wrong thing, should've been sayin' that instead of talkin' back to me," he grunts, letting go of your wrist to smack the side of your ass.

you cry out, shaking in his lap from the slap, the pain echoing over the sore flesh. "i'm sorry," you draw out longly, chest racking with tears mixed with pain and ecstasy.

he pulls his fingers from out your tight hole, and you whine, looking back at him with those pretty, innocently guilty eyes of yours.

"quit your whinin'," he mutters, pulling you upright into his lap. he looks back into your gaze, and it only reminds him of how you're breaking him down into a weak, weak man.

his thumb runs across your bottom lip, dipping into it. "open," he tells you with a softer, hushed sternness. you obey, parting your lips for him.

he spits in your mouth, and you take it like a kiss, carrying the action like a caress. it mixes with your own saliva, ingraining himself in your dna.

he stares at you expectantly, hands lowering down to your ass, squeezing it indignantly, like a warning.

"thank you," you breathe out, feeling drunk on him. he seems pleased, his tight clasp over your ass gets gentler, but it's still firm, still there.

"got a real issue of rememberin' your manners there girl," he tsks, his thumb trailing down your chin, his other hand patting your bottom. "but i'll fix that, fix that right up." he promises, but it feels more like a threat, one that he intends on staying true to.

he lays you flat on your back onto the couch, and you allow him to, letting him do whatever he pleases with you, and he thinks he likes you like this, so sweet and so pliant.

he pulls your legs towards him, he feels hungry, feels impatient, he wants all of you and he wants it all now.

joel hasn't wanted anything in years, because if you don't want anything, you won't be disappointed when you don't get it.

but now he's got you in front of him and he can't take it. he wants you. he's greedy, and he's dirty, but he doesn't care, you've done irreversible damage that he expects will be somehow repaired if he can just get a fix of you, just enough to gratify his bodily needs.

your legs find their way around his hips as if you've done this before, as if his body has been with your's prior to this, connecting like they're supposed to. he slots himself between your thighs, feeling almost overwhelmed to finally have you like this for him.

you want to kiss him, want to hold him, want him him him, and although you've already got him, you still feel like there's more of him to be had.

he unbuckles his belt, the sound urging your legs to tighten around his waist. his eyes drag over you, slowly taking in the vision that's you, as he unbuttons his jeans. he pulls himself out, your gaze dropping down to him, feeling your heart sink immediately.

you never assumed he was small, not that you thought about what was under those jeans, (lies) but shit, this was just obscene. near unnecessary, because how in the hell does he function carrying that…thing around?

he sees your gawking, and an annoying pride fills him to the brim at your visible awe. "is that gonna fit?" you finally ask, and he laughs, pumping himself when he inches closer. "we're about to see aren't we?" he answers, moving your panties to the side.

you get stiff with nerves, holding onto his strong bicep. "joel i-i dunno if it'll fit," you admit, you sound scared, because you are, and he almost feels bad. almost.

"if you don't want this tell me now," he places your panties back, but you're shaking your head, pulling him back in. "no i do, i do, promise," you sound so desperate, so needy, and he's trying so hard to not just fuck you right now.

"just, scared…i never uh..you know." you motion between you two and he swears he nearly punched the air with obnoxious success. "this your first time?" he confirms, and you nod, feeling shy under his stare.

"not like i've been trying to save myself or anything, there's just no one around over here," you explain, not that you needed to, if anything joel is ecstatic with a primal possession that he gets to be your first.

"so you're jumpin' at the first man who gives you some attention? 'specially an old man like me?" he circles the tip of his cock around your clit, and your lips part, hips instinctively lowering down on him. "n-no, i," you don't have any words for him, his actions rendering you silent.

he starts slowly inching in, and your head falls deeper into the cushion behind you, nails crescenting into his forearms. he goes in with no resistance, you're so fucking soaked around him, gripping him in like a warm welcome.

"shit," he shudders, fully sheathing himself inside you. his hand lands beside your head, panting above you, and he looks so beautiful like this. he's so handsome, his eyebrows are in that furrow that they're always in, but this time it's for a different reason.

you look down at where you're connected, and you feel as though you're now one, he's a part of you as you are of him, and you never want him to leave.

you start rolling your hips experimentally, no matter where or how you move, you feel him deep inside, the fat head of his cock hitting there, over and over, and it feels so good, you don't think twice about continuing your little ministrations.

he forcibly pauses your actions, halting your hips down with a rough grip from his hands. he's glaring down at you, uh oh.

"greedy little girl," he grunts, starting to piston his hips inside you. you cry out, leaning forward to find solace in his broad chest, but he pushes you back down, pinning you still. he pauses for a moment, grabbing his belt. "wrists." he orders, and you listen without wasting a second.

he ties your wrists, pushing them above your head before he continues. he's groaning atop of you, fucking you with a purpose, and you take him, entire body bopping upwards with every harsh thrust being fucked into you.

you want to touch him so bad, it feels like torture, you want to put your hands under his flannel, explore the skin that lies underneath, but he's denied you of that privilege. "brat's got such a tight fuckin' pussy," he grunts, impaling you hard onto his cock, stretching you out so good you can't stop yourself from trying to meet his thrusts.

the moans that pour from you are endless, all you do is whimper his name, crying for him and it inflates his ego, but he can't have you being this loud. a hand clamps over your mouth, and you moan behind it, any touch from him is welcomed wholeheartedly.

"quiet down girl," he grits, leaning in close while his thrusts grow harsher. "startin' to think you left your panties for me to find, bet you wanted me to get mad, jus' wanted some attention huh?" he moves his hand away from your mouth, instead using it to grip your face, squeezing your cheeks until your lips pucker. "speak," he orders.

"n-no, no i just fo-forgot, promise," you swear, words feeling difficult to pronounce and even think of when he's got you stretched out on his cock like this, fucking you dumb.

he doesn't believe you, his hands working around your throat soon after you squeak your response. "no?" he teases, his hands growing tighter around the pane of your neck.

your wrists wiggle around the confinements of the belt, wishing you could hold the hands that have you cradled like a glove.

"f'you just wanted my attention, or just wanted to get fucked," he rests on his haunches, pulling you with him, letting you slip down further onto his cock, the corners of his lips curling when you cry out. "then just fuckin' ask, don't need to be pullin' stunts like that,"

his hands around your throat feel loving, they feel safe, and perfectly fitted around you, like his hands were made for this. the lack of air feels right, feels like this is what you needed, and you want more.

tears well at your pretty eyes, rolling down your cheeks while you grip at the buckle on his belt, his cock moving so deep inside that you feel him in the base of your tummy.

he releases your throat, and you gasp for the air you didn't even realize was depleting. he pulls the belt loose, and you immediately go to his arms, running over them. squeezing at the muscles, feeling impressed with how they flex under your touch.

your hands travel up to his face, his beard tickling your palms. "feels sososo good joel, never felt like this," you slur, eyes falling shut at the pleasure. "yeah? this all it took for you to fuckin' behave?" he groans, your hands running across his wide back, trying to feel him, feel the muscles that you've only ever gotten to steal glances at.

he's letting you fall backward again, hovering close to your level, his cock filling you to the hilt, and then some, and you want to tell him how full you feel, how good it feels to have so much of him in you, but the words are lost on you, there are no thoughts left to be had, just pure physical manifestations of what he's doing to you.

"kiss me, please?" you beg, and he doesn't argue, doesn't mock you or tease, but connects your lips, kissing you hard. you moan into his mouth, calf resting on his lower back while he pushes in and out of you. his beard brushes around your chin, your nails gently scratching at the back of his head, eliciting his turn to moan in your mouth.

he kisses you like he fucks you, rough. it's rushed, messy, wet, but there's power in the way he does both, making you feel hazy, dizzy, and overfilled with rapture all at once.

every push, and every shove into the couch is registered as soft, gentle caresses, loving affection, so graciously given to you by the rough hands belonging to joel and you take it all in stride, left wanting more, craving more roughness that just feels like love instead.

his face falls to the warmth of your neck, nipping, biting down onto your shoulder when he buries himself further than you even knew possible, inside of you. your mouth parts, a string of whiny moans leaving past them when he grinds into you, bucking your hips to meet his.

"finally bein' so obedient, should've just gave in an' did this sooner," he grunts into your skin, hands holding you down by your hips. his fingers find your clit, rubbing over the sensitive nerves just like how you did last night, and you choke on a moan, tangling your fingers in his salt and peppered hair.

"so good, feels so good, thank you daddy," you cry like a prayer into his neck, and he sends an especially hard thrust into your cunt, knocking the air out of you. you feel frozen in horror when you realize what's just come out your mouth.

"that's real nasty y'know that right?" the sick curl in the corner of his mouth contradicts the shame he throws at you, and the way his cock twitches inside you acts as further proof that there's no truth in his mocking.

you cover your face in his shoulder, but no, he wants you to look at him when he fucks you, he wants to see the way those pretty lips of yours mold around the word that rightfully belongs to him.

"don't get shy now," he huffs, holding your jaw, head falling back when he feels you clench down around him. his hands fall back to where they belong, wrapped snug around your throat.

he watches the way your eyes roll back, bottom lip being sucked in while you try fucking yourself onto him. "dirty fuckin' girl," he grits, squeezing you while your fingers curl over his, intertwining with him. "s'all right, i can be your daddy," he grunts, pushing in and feeling you squeeze him when he lays his promises to you.

you force your eyes open, gazing at him hazily while he pounds into you. he brings his hips down to yours relentlessly, no mercy in the way he fucks you. he's growing messy, falling out of tune when he slows down, shoving himself all the way in you, letting the sensation of the way you wrap around him be appreciated like it's supposed to be.

"my fuckin' cunt, you hear me? repeat." he releases your throat, and you gasp, sputtering while you nod. "yes, s'all yours," you hiccup, watery eyes making out a blurry joel in front of you. he presses his hand to your lower stomach, groaning to himself when he can feel his own cock piston in and out of you.

he lessens the speed in his thrusts, slowing to watch his cock fill you up. you squirm at the extra pressure, pawing at his wrists. "so much, it's so much daddy," you whine, and he grunts, feeling pride at the way he's got you so fucked out. "take it," is all he says, sounding gruff and strained.

"can i cum please? promise m'gonna be so good for you daddy, gonna listen an' everything," you cry, wrapping your legs tighter around his hips, pulling him in deeper. he grits his teeth, chest getting tight at your pleads.

"really think you deserve it?" he grunts and you nod, gripping onto his shoulders. "yes, please, i promise, promise m'gonna be good, please please," he concedes to your begging, bringing his fingers to your clit.

you gasp, panting in all the air that'll fit in your lungs when it all hits you. your skin is tinged with heat, legs trembling on either side of joel's waist when you feel the tides start to ripple closer to you until it crashes, pulling you into the ocean and you're drowning. drowning in joel.

"thank you daddy, thank you s'much, so good," you muffedly sob, face in the crook of his shoulder while he fucks you through your orgasm, fingers running over your clit, winding you up just to watch you fall apart.

"fuck, squeezing me so hard," he laughs breathlessly, slipping into a heavy moan at the way you're clamping down on him. "so good baby, take what you need, that's my girl," he groans, holding your waist down, fucking you with a rushed need. the backs of your thighs rest over him, and you feel weak, but fulfilled, watching adoringly as he uses your body to cum. bursts of pleasure still erupting inside you at the way he fucks you.

my girl

you whimper at the fleeting affections, unknowingly clenching harder around him.

"shit, shit, gonna fuckin' cum, gonna fill this pussy up, greedy little cunt can't get enough," he groans, head falling forward while his orgasm envelopes him, the slick from your mixed arousal loud while he gasps, grunting with a few harsh thrusts. he pushes into you with finality, cumming deep inside you.

he slowly pulls out, and it stings, you're wincing, feeling bare and cold.

he pulls your panties back over you, eyeing the way his cum pools against the material, and he feels good, feels like he's permanently marked you as his. he tucks himself back into his jeans, catching his breath before he turns his attention back to you.

he dresses your limp body back into your overalls, his hands now ginger and gentle over your skin, touching you like you've suddenly become glass. he sits at the end of the couch, pulling you into his lap.

he's careful when he sits you down, aware that your ass still probably hurts. he lets you curl into his side, the last bit of trembling slowly leaving your body from what just happened. his palm runs up and down your back, feeling content at the way you rest on his chest. "feel okay?" he asks quietly, and you hum a sleepy yes.

your hand rests on his chest, toying with the buttons. "you've always been a sweet girl," he says, feeling like he needs to clarify that, and you smile against his chest, feeling relief and giddiness at his admittance. "a messy one but, sweet nonetheless," he pats your back and you shoot him a joking glare.

he holds you closer by tucking his hand under your thighs, cradling you into him. he kisses your temple, the first gentle action of the day. he tells himself he'll indulge in that more when he sees the smile that spreads across your cheeks.

#joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel and ellie #tv tlou #the last of us hbo #the last of us smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #ellie williams #ellie williams tlou #the last of us #songfic

1K notes · View notes

cheri-2047 · 6 months ago

Note

Helloooo do you write for aventurine from hsr?

If you do, would it be possible to request an aventurine x gn reader where he tries to comfort the reader who has religious trauma? If that's a little too complicated then something like aven trying to comfort the reader when they were suddenly reminded about their trauma from parents.

I'm really just desperately trying to make myself feel better 😭 anw the decision is still up to you <3 I hope you have a wonderful day and I hope that you stay safe and healthy, take care!! 💞💐

IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG 😭 I LOST MOTIVATION TO WRITE ANYTHING 😞😞 I’d love to write this for you but I’m not so sure on what religious trauma is so I focused on reader getting triggered by their parents instead, I hope that’s okay. Please don’t hesitate to comment if I mischaracterized him, this is based off what I see online since I don’t play hsr, thank you!

Aventurine comfort:

TAGS: slight mentions of self harm, hair pulling (out of stress) angst, fluff and comfort at the end

CHARACTERS: Aventurine

You were on your way home after meeting up with your parents. It’s been awhile since you last saw them so you thought you’d pay them a visit.

They welcomed you with open arms and were very glad that you came over, your mother excitedly sharing new stories of what’s happened while you moved away and your father just simply listening to you two.

Everything was smooth sailing, you had fun with them, sharing laughs and all until it all went down the drain.

“haha…” you chuckled it off. You hated hearing about the incident that had happened. Your parents brushed it off by now as a joke, but to you it was anything BUT that.

you continued to catch up to them, holding up a smile to get away the memories that ran through your brain.

stop stop stop

You clenched your hands tightly, continuing to laugh along with the “jokes” your parents made. You couldn’t stop thinking about it now, everything that happened, everything that you worked so hard to forget, all of it GONE just because of a few simple words.

“I might be home a bit late sweetheart, please don’t stay up waiting for me. Love you”

Your phone buzzed, a message from your boyfriend, Aventurine.

perfect.

You took this to your advantage, deciding it was a good excuse.

“Ah I need to go home, sorry mama, urgent things at work.”

You made a white lie. You knew it was a bad thing to lie, it would make you a sinner, but you would do anything right now to get away from that so called ‘home’

“I hope you visit again, we love you”

Your father kissed you on the forehead, before both waving off.

You quickly shuffled to your car, driving as fast as you can away from your parent’s home. You were thankful for your boyfriend’s text, not only can you have alone time but you also were able to lie with getting home.

You drove faster, the music louder, anything to try and get the flooding memories away. You clenched the wheel tightly, taking rough turns, completely ignoring your surroundings.

shut up shut up shut up shut up

please.

You reached your home, running to your bedroom, your safe place.

You opened the television, had your snacks around you and all but for some reason, nothing would work. The thoughts still lingered at the back of your mind, the unspoken memories, the things you’ve tried to hard to forget.

Little did you know, you ended up spiraling. Your eyes on the TV, your mind elsewhere. It all came back too quickly, too much for you, the way you were treated, the rules you were forced to have, the life you so desperately wanted to escape, and it felt like you were back. “…y/n… y/n? Hey hey-“

you got started by the sound, only to realize you had been pulling your hair a lot,

“ah- y-you’re back earl-“

He wrapped his arms around you tightly, Aventurine pulled your hands away from your hair,

“Shh, shh… there there”

he rubbed his hand on your back, you leaned into his touch, before looking down to see blood on your fingernails. “What happened?”

Aventurine pulled away, cupping your cheeks and rubbing your hand, careful not to touch the skin you picked.

You didn’t even notice it, but you were crying. You had tears run down your face as if your eyes were waterfalls.

“I visited my parents today”

“mh…did they do anything?”

“they just…mentioned something and I got triggered and started spiraling I guess…”

as you spoke, aventurine started to wrap some bandages around your fingers.

“What did they say?”

(cutting this part off here so you can like…. Explain to him ykyk. He doesn’t know much of your trauma so u explain that you went through that before)

“Oh sweetheart…”

he wiped your tears and kissed you on the cheek, before hugging you and hurrying your face into the crook of his neck.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t know that’s ever happened, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to remember…”

he frowned and pulled you closer,

“I’m sorry…. If you’re up to going to your parents again, I’ll be here to accompany you. If you don’t, then that’s alright, I understand.”

he kisses the top of your head multiple times, hoping to sooth you with his affection.

He intertwined his hand with yours as he continues to speak reassuring words. “I am always here for you, alright my dearest? If you feel triggered by anything ever again, please don’t hesitate to tell me. I’m never ‘too busy’ for you or any of that. I love you”

you smile as he tells you how he has your back and how he will never leave and swear to always protect you. As you stop crying, he starts to clean up the snacks you left and comes back with more of your favorite foods.

“I got some before I left work”

he chuckles, lying next to you on the bed as you two stayed in the comfort of each others arms.

“I love you, I always will and I will never stop.”

He presses a kiss to your lips, pulling away to see your smile, which makes him smile as well.

A/N: OKAY… so I tried to make it like him as much as I could, I think he’s the type to gen take things seriously in scenarios like this, and the part where he like… pushes(?) your head to his neck for comfort, that means a lot since I hc him to not like being touched there or anyone touching him there either, so yeah. Thanks for requesting and I hope this is ok!! Comments are appreciated (for tips, if I mischaracterized or just to say hi) I hope ure okay dude, if you want more of these feel free to request

#Hsr #star rail #x reader #aventurine #aventurine x reader #Fluff #headcanons #aventurine fluff #Hsr x reader #Star rail x reader #star rail aventurine #aventurine hsr

142 notes · View notes

mysterious-ocarina · 1 year ago

Text

No Control

marauder!Sirius Black x fem!reader

(A/N 1, im american so i’ll prolly get alot of british slang wrong, or just call stuff by what americans say) ( A/N 2, this is kinda an au where Sirius doesn't move in with James and is stuck with the Black family. I had a lot of trouble figuring out what family to put the reader in that would fit my plot and I just ended up putting you in the nott family. I guess if you really wanna think about it (pls don't think too hard about it), your brother is the father of theo nott?) (A/N 3, check this out if anyone wants an explanation of why i've been gone from tumblr for so long)

Warnings: definitely angsty but with some sprinkles of fluff, lots of mentions of abuse (nothing graphic is shown, it's just described to have happened a lot in the past), this is an arranged marriage trope but not enemies to lovers trope, lots of misogyny (lately i've been feeling angry at the world and it's views of women so here is me trying to comfort myself. Sirius black is a woman lover fr). let me know if there is anything else i need to tag cuz this is my most serious fic yet

Main Masterlist HP Masterlist Requests AO3

(5.6k words)

Sirius Black. A name that's known by the majority of the Hogwarts population. And a face that is known (maybe a little too personally) by many wizards and witches at Hogwarts. But not to you.

You've only ever heard about the notorious Sirius black and the gang of hooligans called the Marauders. You've never got to meet any of them personally. You occasionally would see some of them around, but never Sirius. As a Slytherin, you often ran into his brother, Regulus, but you've never really talked to him either, only ever exchanging pleasantries.

It was actually kind of surprising that you've never talked to the Blacks before. You both came from pure blood, supremacist families and both you and Sirius were known to be a bit rebellious against your families (or just rebellious in general).

But none of that matters, when your parents force you to come home for the holidays and basically shatter your resolve.

At Hogwarts, away from the prying eyes of your family, you were most like yourself. Rebellious, outgoing, funny, and even kind. But under the roof of your family's expensive manor, you were nothing more than a quiet, obedient little girl, who's value was determined by whichever man was in charge of her. The perfect, pureblood daughter.

Just as your mother was and is, you are basically a slave to your own blood, specifically your brother and father. And as soon as you're married (arranged to a pure blood. no doubt, without your consent) you'll have to be an obedient little wife for your husband.

The perfect, doting, obedient, docile, pureblood wife. It was all a load of rubbish, you thought, but you would keep the facade up in order to keep the abuse at bay. You learned pretty early on that speaking up for yourself and speaking out of turn was not going to be tolerated.

You were silently eating dinner with your family. Your father and brother were quietly speaking about matters that even if you and your mother cared, neither of you would be allowed an opinion on.

“Honey, we’ll be having important guests for tomorrow's dinner. So make sure you look your absolute best,” your mother spoke to you. She gave you a sympathetic smile knowing the “show” you both would have to put on in front of guests.

“Okay. Am I allowed to know who these guests are?” you swallowed down your food. You were filled with nerves, thinking about what kind of important guests you were going to have.

Your mother bent down closer to your ear, “I’m not supposed to be telling you this-” she shot a quick look to your father to make sure he wasn’t listening, “but it’s the Black family. I’m not sure why they are coming. All I know is that it’s important business with one of their sons.”

You put your fork down on your plate, placing your hands down on your lap in front of you. You let your thoughts wander and only grew more worried. What kind of important business did one of the Black brothers have with your family? To help a little with your nerves, your mother placed a comforting hand on yours before going back to her meal.

The rest of your night was uneventful after that, until you went to bed. You stayed awake for longer than you should have, your mind way too loud to allow you to sleep. You ran through a list in your mind about the millions of different “important business” that the Black family could have with yours. But none of it made sense why they would eat dinner with us. Usually important business was settled in your father’s study, as it was improper for the ladies to be present.

Eventually, you were able to fall asleep and then the next day would start. You woke up late, which was extremely unappreciated by your brother, who was expecting his morning coffee like usual. You were promptly punished, not only by being woken up by him screaming at you, but also with a beating.

You spent the rest of the day trying to find an appropriate outfit for the dinner that would cover the red marks and newly forming bruises on your arms. Your mother lessened the pain of the marks a little during the day but there wasn’t much else that you could do.

Sometimes when you both sat and drank tea, you would often dream together about running away from all of this. The blood supremacy, controlling men, and just downright evil families. But those thoughts and dreams were quickly quelled when the sound of the men's voices could be heard, calling for the maids- I mean women.

Both you and your mom knew, these were only dreams. It was impossible for purebloods to leave the life that they were born into.

You and your mother waited in the foyer, waiting for the guests to arrive. Your dress was rubbing against the lashes on your skin, making you scratch your arms in irritation but soon stopped when your mothers hand landed on yours.

“You’ll only make it hurt worse. Plus, you know you can show any discomfort in front of the guests,” she said softly. She was trying her best to sound comforting but it only served to remind you of the show you both are forced to put on and the lives you’re stuck living.

A knock was heard and muscle memory forced wide, fake smiles onto both of your faces. Your mother opened the door and welcomed the Black family, “Good evening Mr. and Mrs. Black. I hope you had safe travels here.”

As soon as they crossed the threshold, you were in front of them offering to take their coats. They handed them to you as Mrs. Black spoke, “Thank you for having us, Mrs. Nott.”

“My daughter will show you to the dining room while I finish up making dinner,” your mother informed before quickly making her way towards the kitchen.

After you finished hanging up Mr. and Mrs. Black’s coats, you finally had the chance to look at the two Black brothers. Being in his house, you immediately recognized Regulus, who gave you a tight smile. You then looked over to who you assumed was Sirius.

He certainly was as attractive as the girls at Hogwarts always seemed to make him seem. But he wouldn’t make eye contact with you. He was looking toward the ground, still keeping his posture ramrod straight. He had the same look and body language as someone who had just been beaten for disobedience. A look you were familiar with.

Before anyone could get angry with you, you spoke up, respectfully, “If you would follow me, please.”

With your head down, you brought the family to the dining room. Your father and brother both stood up to shake hands with the Blacks. You stood behind your seat, waiting for the men to sit down first. Your father and Mr. Black sat down and engaged in conversation. You watched Regulus take the chair next to his father and looked to see where Sirius was. You were surprised to find him right next to you.

You backed up, unsure why he was standing there. Of course, you would give up your seat if he asked you to. But all he did was pull the chair out and motion for you to sit down. You sat down and thanked him as he pushed the chair in, “Thank you, young master Black.”

In the corner of your eye, you saw your father give a nod at your use of the title. Salazar, you sounded like a damned house elf. But that was the proper way you were to address him.

Sirius scrunched his nose at the title but gave you an understanding smile, “You’re welcome.”

He surprised you once more by taking the seat directly next to yours. You kept your mouth shut, knowing it was best to keep your curious thoughts to yourself, but you did shoot him a kind smile.

Dinner started without a hitch, conversation mostly being between Mr. Black and your father, your mother and Mrs. Black conversing a little bit with each other too. You, your brother, and both Black brothers mostly stayed silent and ate the meal.

Throughout the entire dinner, when nobody was looking, you had been rubbing at your irritated arm in discomfort. You don’t know how long Sirius had noticed but he grabbed your hand under the table just as you were going to bring it back up again. He continued to eat his meal with his other hand, looking like he wasn’t holding your hand under the table at the moment.

At your confused glance, he leaned closer to your ear, whispering, “I know what you’re doing. It’s just going to make it hurt more, the more you keep messing with it. Just squeeze my hand instead.”

He went back to eating, glancing around to find that no one noticed him whispering to you. You squeezed his hand a bit hard as you went back to eating too. Instead of wincing or doing anything to show discomfort, all he did was rub his thumb soothingly on yours.

The butterflies Sirius stirred up in you was enough to distract you from your irritating arm for the rest of the dinner.

“Now,” your father started, rubbing his napkin on his mouth and setting it down on the table, (the universal sign for “stop eating and listen to me”). “Mr. Black and I have recently come to an agreement.”

Sirius squeezed your hand in comfort as his father spoke up, “Seeing as Ms. Nott is the same age as my Sirius, we have arranged for the two of you to be married. It will be after the both of you graduate from Hogwarts.”

Those words echoed in your head as you looked up to the two fathers in shock. Your silverware clattered as it fell from your hand onto your plate. You must have been breaking the bones in Sirius’ hand, holding it as tight as you were.

Despite the fact that you knew it was a bad idea, your adrenaline forced you to speak up, “You can’t do that, father. You can’t just force me to marry someone that I just met.”

The tears in your eyes didn’t fall, years of “training” keeping them from falling.

Your brother gave you a harsh glare at your disrespect. Suddenly your father stood up, slamming his hands on the table. Staring straight at you, his commanding voice not loud but still thundering all the same, “I can, and I will. Do not forget your place in this family and this world. You will do as I say until you are married. Then you will be your husband’s to command.”

In a haste, you let go of Sirius’ hand, placing your hands on the table to stand up. Sirius, thinking quickly, kept you from getting up by grabbing your legs under the table. That didn’t stop your mouth from speaking harshly, “I am nobody’s to command or control.”

Before you could say anything more, your father reached across the table and slapped you across the face. You held your cheek in shock. He’s hit you before but never in front of guests. The entire table sat in shocked silence.

You looked down at your lap, willing your tears not to fall. You noticed Sirius’ hands clenched in his lap, he looked like he was shaking in anger, but his face had a practiced neutral expression. Regulus’ eyes were wide as he looked at you but had no other reaction at the scene that just transpired. The both of them knew not to speak up.

Your brother had a satisfied smirk on his face. You could just hear the thoughts in his head right now. Thank Salazar, someone put her in her place, his face screamed.

Your father sat down and looked towards Mr. Black, “I’m sorry for my daughter’s behavior. I hope you can forgive me for her impudence.”

Mr. Black simply waved his hand in dismissal, “It’s alright. I understand how women are.”

Picking up his whiskey glass, your father sighed, “It’s a shame we can’t put off the marriage to fix her. Maybe your son will be able to crack her.”

Mr. Black took a swig of his whiskey too, “We can only hope. If not, I can think of a curse that surely helped to fix up my Sirius.”

Sirius tensed up next to you. Your father had never used the Cruciatus Curse on you, but it was clear what Mr. Black was referring to and your father seemed to quite enjoy the idea. The two men simply laughed as if that curse wasn’t named an Unforgivable Curse. They laughed, as if your pain was nothing more than entertainment to them.

The dinner went back to normal for the two men and your brother, not noticing the tension felt between the rest of the group. This time, you grabbed Sirius’ hand under the table and rubbed it soothingly. He let out a shaky breath and squeezed your hand.

Losing your appetite, you spent the rest of the meal sitting in silence, holding hands with Sirius. Your thoughts ran completely wild. You were going to be married to him, for the rest of your life, and you had only spoken once. You didn’t even speak. He whispered to you and you listened. Thinking more about it, there are worse boys that you could have been forced to marry.

At Hogwarts, Sirius was known for being rebellious and against his family's traits and values. Salazar, the boy was sorted into Gryffindor, the opposite of his entire family. But what if that was just in the public eye. You didn’t know anything about Sirius except for what you’ve heard from others. For all you knew, the moment you and he were alone, he would revert back to his family’s pureblood values and abuse you just as most pureblood husbands did to their wives.

No, you quickly thought, stop it. You tried to think about the entire situation with a rational head. Throughout the entire dinner, he did nothing harsh towards you. He offered comfort when your arm was bothering you. He kept you from standing when you argued with your father (who knows how much worse the situation could have escalated if you actually, physically stood up to him). He did his best to offer you comfort without your families knowing it.

He’s not an abuser, you rationalized with yourself. You felt the way he tensed up at the mention of the Cruciatus Curse. He would not be like your father or your brother.

After dinner, you were sent straight up to your room. Before you were separated, Sirius softly spoke to you, “Don’t worry, darling.”

His smile reassured you by a fraction, as you got ready for bed. Maybe all of it won’t be so bad.

You didn’t see Sirius, or his family, at all the rest of the holidays. The next time you did see him was on the train back to Hogwarts. You were simply looking for an empty carriage to settle in, when you noticed Sirius coming towards you.

He grabbed your suitcase and brought it to what you presumed was the carriage he was going to be in. You simply followed him, shrinking under the glare that some of his fangirls were throwing your way.

Once the door was shut and you were alone, he finally spoke up, “So, how are you?”

You sat in the seat opposite of him. You were unsure how to proceed, so you took the safe option and responded, “I’m fine, master Black.”

He opened his mouth in shock, before quickly wiping the look from his face, he basically pleaded, “Please don’t call me that.”

“But-” you went to protest, but he cut you off.

“At least, don’t call me that when we aren’t near our families,” he dismissed what you were going to say. All you could do was stare at him. It really did seem he wasn’t like his family.

Growing embarrassed under your stare, he shyly spoke back up, “I hope you know that you can act like you normally do when you’re around me.”

You looked away from him, face flushing, “This is how I normally act.”

He leveled you with a look, “We both know that’s not true. I don’t know you well but I’m sure you have a number of choice words to call me.”

Seeing the amused smirk on his face, your facade broke. You slightly smirked right back at him, “I don’t have any words to call you… Our fathers on the other hand…”

Sirius’ smirk turned into an almost awestruck smile. Before he could say anything back at you, a gaggle of boys had burst into the carriage.

“Pads, you’ll never guess who sent me a letter during break,” James Potter excitedly said. He went to sit across from his friend only to just now notice you. You gave him a sweet smile.

“Who’s this?” James asked, sitting next to Sirius and throwing his arm around him.

Peter Pettigrew and Remus Lupin followed James into the carriage, taking their seats. Everyone gave you curious but welcoming looks.

Sirius gave you a look, which you nodded to.

“Put up a silencing charm. I’ve got a story to tell you,” Sirius replied, causing the boys to perk up.

The next hour or so was spent with Sirius explaining your arranged marriage to his group of friends. You were relatively silent, not yet comfortable talking to his friends. He left out the parts where you were abused and berated but didn’t spare the details of his own abuse. It seemed he was comfortable sharing what he goes through to his friends. And evidently you too, since you were there listening too.

This was how you found out that he knew about the betrothal before you did. Apparently, he found out just moments before going to the dinner. He tried to refuse his father (the same way you had, you noticed) and received a beating for his insubordination. That would explain the look he had when you first saw him.

You cringed a little, hearing that he was hit but he gave you a reassuring smile. His friends were also really kind and sympathetic to the entire situation. No wonder he seemed comfortable sharing his familial trauma with them, they were extremely supportive.

“Can they really do that?” James questioned, from next to Sirius.

You sighed and crossed your arms, “Unfortunately, yes. There isn’t anything that we can do to avoid it.”

Remus looked up thoughtfully, “Is it possible for you guys to run away from your families?”

You thought about it, “Hypothetically, we could run away from our families and the blood supremacy world, but it would be extremely difficult.”

Sirius spoke up, “Trust me, I’ve debated it my entire life. If we ran away from our families, no doubt we would be financially cut off from them.”

You added, “Not only would we have to somehow have enough money for a place to live, but we would also need to find a job, to keep the place to live. And trust me, families like ours have a lot of power in the wizard world. One word from them, and no one would want or be able to hire us.”

Peter muttered, “That’s horrible.”

Sirius sighed and slouched in his seat, “You’re telling me.”

“Thinking about it, Sirius, you need to put your womanizing ways away. A married man shouldn’t be parading around with any woman that gives him attention,” you added with a teasing smirk.

“You make me sound like a cheap whore,” Sirius replied with a pout.

“You’re not?” James was quick to rebuttal, causing you to laugh at the offended face Sirius gave the both of you. It didn’t take long for the entire group of you to dissolve into laughs and giggles.

Sirius smiled at you, teasingly, “Well how about you? I’m sure your long line of lovesick fools will end up sobbing at the news.”

You glared playfully at him, “I don’t know any lovesick fools. I actually swore off dating a long time ago so this doesn’t affect my love life at all.”

Remus looked at you in bewilderment, “Went from swearing off dating straight to marriage.”

“Quite the jump,” you simply offered in reply. “At least I’m stuck with Sirius and not some blood supremacist twat like my brother.”

“That is true,” Remus reasoned. “You could have been forced with someone who actually believes the rubbish their parents feed them.”

You felt comforted by Remus' words, confirming that Sirius wasn’t like both of your families.

The rest of the train ride was spent getting to know each other. It wasn’t hard to become friends with Sirius and his buddies. The longer you spent with them, the more comfortable you became with the idea of becoming Sirius’ wife. Don’t get me wrong. You still didn’t want to be forced to marry someone that you didn’t know or love, but you were comfortable knowing that he felt the exact same way.

Who knows? Maybe you could fall in love with Sirius the same way a plethora of other girls had.

The rest of your seventh year at Hogwarts went alright. It didn’t take long for rumors to spread that you and Sirius were to be married but for the most part, the gossip didn’t bother either of you that much. It’s not like the rumors were false, so what was the point in denying anything.

The only downside was the threats that a multitude of Sirius fangirls made in your direction. Nothing too serious has happened to you yet, but you knew soon enough that it would be too much for the wrong girl. Turns out, that time would come soon enough.

You were eating breakfast in the Great Hall, Regulus sitting across from you. Since he was to be your brother-in-law, the both of you became friends. You would also find out that he wasn’t like his parents either. He just wasn’t as outward of this fact as Sirius was. Watching what Sirius has put up with, he knew that he wasn’t brave enough to rebel and deal with the consequences.

Earlier in the week, a parcel came by owl for you. In it was a Black family heirloom, a wedding ring. You were told that you had to wear it from now on, even though you guys were still only engaged and not married. Of course, you didn’t argue, though.

You sat staring at the ring. On one hand, you hate what it symbolized. It was your own sick image of slave shackles that tied you down. On the other hand, “It really is quite pretty. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought Sirius picked it out just for me.”

Regulus looked up at you as you spoke. He was confused for a moment until he noticed you glancing at the ring on your ring finger. He swallowed his toast and took a sip of his black coffee, “Well… I mean, it is charmed.”

You gave him a confused look, which only made him look back at you even more confused. His eyebrows raised, “You don’t know?”

“Know what?” you questioned. You looked at the ring and tried to think of what kind of charm it could have been.

Regulus smirked back at you, “Well, Mrs. Black-” you glared at him, only making him smile harder at you, “-When the ring was first made for our grandmother's grandmother, or some other old bat, it was put under some kind of spell.

“It was always meant to be an heirloom and it was charmed to always look the way that the husband, the male with Black blood, wanted it to look. Hypothetically, it was supposed to be a symbol of great love because the husband should know what kind of ring their wife would like to wear. But with our family being the kind of family it is, it was mostly only ever worn as a symbol of possession.

“Rarely, did the husbands care enough about their wives to know what kind of ring they would like to wear,” Regulus finished his story. He was giving you an unreadable smile.

You stared back at him, your expression almost as unreadable as his, scoffing at him, “Well most jewelry is going to be pretty.”

“Yeah, but doesn’t that look like the perfect ring for you,” he smoothly replied.

You simply ignored him, finishing your breakfast. You did your best to ignore the fluttering feeling in your chest at the thought that Sirius knew what your perfect ring would look like.

The ring on your finger only served as a reminder to all the girls at Hogwarts that you were to be Sirius’ wife, a fact that was not very well received by the female population. Before you had the ring, the most that would be thrown your way was dirty looks and glares, something you could easily handle. But as more and more people noticed the ring on your finger over the next week, the more serious it became.

You started to receive so much hate mail, that you started to only ever open up letters if they had the official Nott or Black seal. Most of the letters only said foul things to you. Not many people were aware of the arranged part of the marriage, mostly only pureblood Slytherins and Black’s friends knew about that, so a lot of the letters consisted of them berating you and wondering how you got the notorious Sirius Black to fall in love with you (A love potion being the most common guess. Because why would the perfect Sirius Black want to be with a nobody girl like you).

People really are dense these days. How could people possibly jump to any sort of conclusions when no one has ever seen you guys kiss… or even hold hands for that matter. The both of you were friends by now, of course. But that’s it. You guys didn’t just magically fall in love now that you are betrothed.

Well… one of you wasn’t in love. Over the course of getting to know Sirius more for the past few months, feelings did start to stir within you. But you always tried to squash them down as soon as you felt them. Which only made you hurt more.

You were going to get married… without your consent… to a guy that you’ve started to truly care for… despite the fact that he could never care for you the same way. It was all kind of sad, when you really thought about it.

You thought about how you were probably, inadvertently, just a symbol of his slavery to his family and their beliefs. Just as he was inadvertently a symbol of your slavery to your family and their beliefs.

But you were able to look past that. So maybe he would be able to look past it too and see the silver-lining to this whole thing.

Breaking out of your thoughts, you muttered a quicked Incendio at the pile of hate mail in front of you, burning it to ash. Slipping your wand back into your robes, you continued to eat your dinner in relative peace.

If only it could’ve stayed in peace. Two girls, a Ravenclaw and a Hufflepuff that you didn’t even recognize, sat down on both of your sides. Your confusion was apparent, only widening the smirk on the two girls' faces.

Understanding what was going on, you rolled your eyes, “Do you guys need something?”

“What’s your secret?” the Ravenclaw girl inquired.

You simply continued to eat your food, unaffected by their intimidation. Dryly, you responded, “Whatever could you mean?”

The girls looked at you in disgust, before the Hufflepuff spoke up, “We want to know how you got someone as amazing as Sirius Black to fall for you. I can’t think of anything good about you.”

With another roll of your eyes (if you had a galleon for everytime you rolled your eyes because of these kinds of girls, you would be rich) you cooly replied, “Have you tried, having a personality? I’ve heard it does wonders in making people like you.”

Both girls huffed at your attitude before standing up. The Ravenclaw haughtily informed you, “You better watch your back, Nott. Wouldn’t want anyone to damage Sirius’ goods.”

Using her wand, the Hufflepuff spilled sticky juice all over you, leaving you floundering in shock. You sat for a second seething in anger, only growing more furious as the gross liquid seeped more into your clothes.

By now, most of the great hall was already watching what had happened but at the glare you threw at everyone, people were quick to go back to minding their business.

You got up quickly, making your way out of the Great Hall. You heard footsteps behind you and someone calling your name but you were too blind with rage to bother turning around to find out what they wanted. You had had enough of the girls in this school looking down at you for something that wasn’t any of their business.

You were almost to the girls washroom, when Sirius grabbed ahold of your arm. You quickly whipped around, seething, “What the hell do you want, Black?”

He faltered, unsure how to handle what was happening, “I saw what happened. Are you okay?”

You glared harshly at him, “Do I look okay to you?”

Gobsmacked, he hesitantly replied, “Well, what can I do?”

“Oh gee, Black,” you spit at him. “Maybe you could fix your fanclub who seems to think that I’m Satan incarnate herself.”

Your anger in the moment kept you from thinking rationally, you mocked, “Oh perfect Sirius Black. He’s so hot and amazing. How could a slag like you end up with a man like him?”

Sirius stood, shocked at your outburst but kept silent and let you continue to tear at him, “I’ve heard it all, Black. Your little group of fangirls are so deep into their delusions that they can’t even see that we aren’t in love. The only thing that they are capable of seeing is that I’ll be your wife, consensual or not.

“Those girls don’t even realize the pain it brings me that I’m forced to do this. Those girls don’t see the pain my family has put me in, time and time again. Those girls don’t see the pain they cause me with their vitriolic jealousy,” You finished your rant off, poking at his chest with each sentence. Breathing deeply after explaining how this all made you feel, you watched as he processed everything you said.

He seemed unsure of how to continue, until anger and what looked like insecurity started to cover his face. He moved your hand away (very lightly, you noticed) and started to step towards you as he raised his voice back at you, “Well what do you expect me to do about literally anything about this situation. I’m sorry that having to marry me is the worst thing that ever happened to you.”

“Sirius,” you sighed, regretfully.

But he was quick to continue before you could, “No, you got to tear me out, so now it’s my turn. Trust me, this hurts me too. I know how horrible our families and their rubbish traditions are. You are just as familiar with the abuse as I am, meaning that you know just as well as I do, that there isn’t anything that either of us can do against this.”

He took a step back and a deep, calming breath. He looked at you with an expression that was unreadable, “I wish there was something, anything, that I could do to help us feel less trapped but there’s nothing to do.”

You took a step closer to him, “Nothing about you, is the worst thing to ever happen to me. Really, if anything, you’re the best thing to happen to me. It’s because of you, that I feel less alone.”

At your admission, Sirius let out a breath of relief, as if you just lifted the world off of his shoulders. Was he really that worried about being a burden to you? You spoke up again, “I’m sorry for yelling at you. None of this is your fault and I shouldn’t have let my anger out on you.”

Sirius sighed, muttering the scourgify charm. The sticky juice was instantly cleaned off you and you already felt a little bit better.

Sirius grabbed your hand, holding it in both of his, “It’s alright. I understand what you’re going through. But we can get through this together.”

“You’re right,” you responded with a soft cry. You fell into his chest and softly cried out your frustrations. Sirius stood there, soothing you as best as he could, unwilling to let you out of his embrace.

“How about tonight, you meet me in the astronomy tower? We can do whatever, it doesn’t matter what. We can just hang out and forget about our families for once,” Sirius offered. He still had his arms around you in comfort.

Once your sniffles subsided, you hugged him just a little bit tighter, “That sounds amazing, Sirius.”

(A/N, I was thinking of doing a part 2 if you guys are interested. I was thinking it would be after the marriage but you guys still dance around the feelings you have for eachother. maybe you guys find a way to run away together too. i dont really know, yall let me know what you think)

#sirius black #marauders #marauders era #sirius black x you #sirius black one shot #sirius black fluff #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black x reader #female reader #fluff #fanfiction #arranged marriage #angst

224 notes · View notes

charmedreincarnation · 4 months ago

Note

How am I supposed to deal with anti-shifters and people literally calling shifting a mental illness? I know it’s real, and it's baffling how some people want me to confine myself to a reality that doesn’t serve me. It’s like they can't comprehend that our realities can be fluid and personal. And don't even get me started on the pretentious, usually well-off, white shifter content creators who make videos about how perma-shifters are selfish. It's as if they can't see past their privilege and understand the deeper connections and meanings behind shifting. I sometimes wish I could permanently delete this account from existence because it's just so frustrating to navigate through all this negativity and misunderstanding. I know now I’m in a world filled with possibilities, and yet some choose to limit themselves and impose those limits on others. I can be happy one day, truly happy one day and jt makes me angry that it makes some people mad I believe I can wake up in a new world with wealth and money and a family that doesn’t abuse me and visit my favorite movies. Im not hurting anyone

Not trying to be mean because I get it and went through this as well, but some of you are addicted to arguing and stirring things up. Some people become complicit in their own suffering because you don’t have to consume that type of content! you can avoid it if you train your algorithm hard enough.

If there’s one thing you can learn from religious people, it’s their “I’ll pray for you” mentality. If someone doesn’t believe in God, they just say they’ll pray for you so you don’t got to hell or whatever

When you encounter anti-shifters, just hope that one day they open their minds and discover there's more to the world than meets the eye. If they never choose to do so, it doesn’t affect your journey. One thing YOU SHOULD NOT take from religious people is making shifting your entire identity. Yes, it’s part of who you are, but it's not everything. When you don’t believe in God, some religious people become upset because religion is their identity, not just a belief system. Shifting and the loa are similar in that way—if you’re secure in your journey, would you really care if others believe or not?

You can block them and move on, but I know that’s easier said than done. It makes you angry because you’ve made it your identity instead of just an inherent way of life. Everyone shifts, even anti-shifters, so whether they believe in it or not doesn’t matter.

They’re like flat-earthers to me—I just roll my eyes and move on. It shouldn’t take a toll on your inherent being or mental health. If it does, take a step back. Stop diving into communities you know will make you angry. You don’t have to drag ShiftTok drama to Tumblr or rant about them. Avoid reblogging blogs that share misinformation and arguing with them. You don’t have to share YouTubers who think perma-shifters are delusional or self-harming.

Really sit down and think: if you genuinely believe in shifting and believe you can do it, would you go around trying to prove it to those with no interest in it? Are you trying to convince them or yourself? Don’t tie shifting or anything spiritual to your worth or identity. It’s just your inherent being. Everyone is God in their own right, whether they recognize it or not. It’s not your job to force enlightenment on others. Focus on yourself, use the block button, and defend yourself when attacked without meaning but if there’s no progress in the conversation, still use that block button. Stop entering spaces you don’t agree with.

LOA vs ND, be states vs A and P—some of you guys genuinely just want to live out your high school clique fantasies on Tumblr. Stop arguing and do your own thing. Engage in the free will you have and stop turning spirituality into pretentious Reddit philosophy echo chambers of people who have lost sight of the teachings. This isn’t politics no one focused on their journey and life cares okay; no one cares. It’s should be very fun, engaging and simple—just remembering who you are. I know humans love labels and categorizing because we’re so diverse and versatile and three-dimensional, and sometimes that’s a lot so we want to find our “place” but your own label and true essence and limitless. take a deep breath, close your laptop, and remember you already know who you are.

I totally get that shifting has been life-changing for us, especially when so many of us have come from really challenging backgrounds. It can be incredibly disheartening to see someone tearing apart something that gives you hope. That’s why I find it frustrating when people casually say, "The only thing you have to lose is trying." Hope is a huge factor when you feel like you’ve got nothing else, and the belief that something can save you is incredibly powerful. You work tirelessly, holding onto hope despite facing the same difficulties that dragged you into a tough mental state and life situation in the first place—that's disheartening, and I’m not trying to downplay that at all.

But when you truly realize it’s going to happen, and when it finally does, you won’t even care about the naysayers. I’ve been there, looking back and realigning my thoughts, thinking about all those times others doubted everything. They argued and criticized, but in the end, their opinions won’t matter. It’s about that personal journey and the shift within yourself, the kind of change that makes all the worth it, because when you get past all that useless noise, it’s just you and the incredible things that you did that matter. This is your life so make the most of it.

#my asks #law of assumption #manifesting #reality shifting #shiftblr

56 notes · View notes

shreddeddescent · 3 months ago

Text

hhhhh yeah ok just for funsies.....

here's a snippet (its way longer than a snippet its 4000 words) of the worst case scenario story i wrote.

idk how much of the specifics will be canon. but i do think this is such a good blow up that it would be mean to keep it to myself.

maybe im posting it just to be like YEAH OK HERES THE TONE. IF YOURE NOT COMFORTABLE THEN YOU CANT BE HERE...

Warnings for mentions of: CSA rape forced incest uhhhh more probably. nothing shown but much mentioned. possibly warnings for more im not even thinking of. Im sorry just be careful.

Don’t be fucking weird about it to me ok we are in the raw place

so context. shredder kidnapped the boys for days to get what he wanted out of them. implications are clear enough through context i think. lot of drugging. they escaped and killed him (like for real this time) shit is weird and they're handling it as best they can. everyone is aware of this. they've had one therapy session w a weirdly inhuman therapist april found (from her connections in cryptid world) and nobody wants to look their mom in the eye. least of all raph. cuz god does it ever feel bad to know she knows.

the boys seem ok to the naked eye though. hence. this.

When they woke up the next morning Mikey had decided to make everyone pancakes. A true feast of flavours after their days of slop.

Donnie and Leo had set the table and let Raph rest at the head of it, he was still wearing Donnie’s old ratty black hoodie, it fit him perfectly. He’d also found some sweatpants, but those only rode up to his mid thigh. It still helped though.

Mikey was making two batches of pancakes, half with chocolate chips and half without, the pickier eaters with the cool mask colours refusing to try something sweet.

The air smelled strongly of bacon, and it was making Raph’s tummy growl loudly.

“Mikey you better hurry up, Raph’s gonna eat his plate!” Leo joked as he pat Raph on the back.

“You can’t hurry perfection!” Mikey whined as he plated some bacon.

“Uuuughhhh Mikey…! I can see the light!” Raph gasped out and reached his arm out above his head, miming his own death.

Mikey huffed and chucked a piece of bacon on his plate.

“To tide you over you big baby.”

Raph gasped and picked it up between his fingers gobbling it down with a loud moan.

“So fucking good Mikey…”

“Oh you’re all up!”

Raph froze, swallowing hard.

His mom was behind him and he was wearing Donnie’s hoodie. He had just moaned Mikey’s name. And his mom was behind him.

He felt Leo hovering over him but he didn’t move.

“Hi mom.” Leo said gently.

“Decided to make a big breakfast?” She wandered over to look at what Mikey was doing at the stove.

Leo put a hand on Raph’s shoulder when she turned and leaned down to enter his eyeline.

Raph stared at him with a panicked expression. Leo looked sympathetic.

“Yeah, we’re all pretty hungry.” Mikey responded.

“You want some help?”

“I got it, it’s almost done anyway.”

Raph was trying like hell not to have a panic attack. Leo put both arms around his shoulders in a loose hug, leaning down to speak in his ear.

“Deep breaths, Raph, it’s just mom. You’re okay.”

He tried to breathe, placing a hand on Leo’s arm. He saw his mom turn and quickly threw Leo’s arms off him.

She stared at him sadly, but tried to smile anyway.

“How are you feeling today Raphael?”

“Hungry.” He answered quickly. “Just really hungry.”

Her smile faltered for a moment, but she tried to keep it up anyway.

“Well, good thing your brother is such a good cook.” She turned to the fridge to grab some juice.

Raph clasped his chest, he didn’t know why it hurt.

Donnie was staring at him with some concern, he looked like he was about to ask him something so Raph just glared at him and held his finger to his lips.

Donnie rolled his eyes and rest his folded arms on the table.

Raph just stared at his empty plate, trying to calm his nerves.

Leo pat him on the back and shook him gently.

“Raphael do you want me to put on some coffee? Or would you like to take a nap later?”

He stared at his empty plate. Caffeine would make his chest worse than it already was.

“No, I'm very awake right now, super okay.” He super fucking wasn’t okay and he didn’t know why.

She turned around to pour a glass of orange juice for herself.

“Enough food for me to join you boys?”

Mikey turned his head to look back at Raph in question.

Raph stared back at him with an anxious look in his eye. He then looked back at his mom.

“Of course you can eat breakfast with us we’re not avoiding you or anything that would be mean!” He tried to make his words sound as playful as he could but he was pretty sure he sounded crazy.

She gave him a puzzled look but smiled anyway, and sat at the other end of the table.

Donnie gave him the most dumbfounded look, shaking his head slightly.

Leo nonchalantly scooted his chair closer to Raph and leaned over the counter.

“So. What did our doctor tell you?”

Raph kicked him under the table but he didn’t react.

She frowned and clasped her hands around her cup, looking down at it.

“She… said a few things. She told me to give you space, but not be too far in case you needed to talk. I’m trying not to worry, but I’m a little surprised that none of you have seeked me out for anything.”

Raph frowned and rubbed his arm, looking away.

“I.. I’m sorry, feels too raw right now..”

“I think anything we need to talk about can be said to the therapist.” Donnie said.

Raph looked up to glare at Donnie for his rudeness, but he’d stood up to help Mikey bring plates of food to the table.

“Which I understand, but I feel out of the loop. You’ve spoken to April. And this doctor. But no one even looked to me for a hug…”

Raph chewed his lip and closed his eyes. He felt horrible.

“Mom, I’m so sorry I just—“

“Because trying to be physically close with anyone right now is hard, mom.” Leo interrupted. Raph thought his tone was too harsh. “We’ve been through hell and we’re just trying to be normal. It’s awkward and it sucks. But it’s hard to add other people to it.”

Raph groaned and shoved him lightly with his shoulder.

“We’re fine, mom. We’re coping.”

She eyed the two of them carefully with her hands clasped in front of her face as Donnie and Mikey placed the plates of pancakes and meats in front of everyone.

She was looking at Raph’s hoodie, she was looking at how close Leo was to him.

He looked away from her so he could pile as many chocolate chip pancakes onto his plate as he could. Leo leaned over him to add some bacon and hash browns to it, knowing he would forget to diversify his plate.

It was not helping.

Raph grumbled and took a big bite of pancakes. He couldn’t help but moan again. “These are so fucking good, Mikey…”

Mikey grinned from his seat near splinter at the corner. He and Donnie had very different plates, his full of all the variety, Donnie sticking to his plain pancakes with nothing on them.

“Thank you! Worth the wait right?” He asked with his mouth full.

“Yes, I’m sorry.” Raph whined dramatically and stuffed his face more. Eating real delicious food after all that gross paste felt so good. He’d never felt so hungry, he was going to overindulge.

“How are you coping?” Splinter asked suddenly between her bites of food.

Raph tensed and looked up at her, gulping back hard.

“Sorry?”

“You said you were fine and coping. So how are you coping?” She looked up at him with a weird look and he needed to look back down. It was making him queasy.

“I.. I don’t know, we’re just hanging out I guess.” He mumbled and picked at his food.

“Is that a new hoodie?”

He tensed and tried to make himself small.

“No, it’s Donnie’s…”

“Hm.” She washed back her food with a chug of juice.

His brothers weren’t as tense as he was, but they did look uneasy by her presence. It wasn’t unusual, he was usually the only one trying to hold conversation, and he had been the one to inadvertently invite her to join them. They all kind of wanted to be alone.

“Mikey? You should have let me help, you seemed to have forgotten the eggs.”

‘She knows she knows she knows she knows!’

Raph slammed his head down on the counter to shut the voice in his head up.

There was a pause. Leo pressed a hand to his back.

“You good..?”

He picked his head up sharply and grunted.

“Never better.” He started scarfing down the pancakes in as big of bites as he could. Maybe he could finish fast and get out of here.

“I… didn’t make eggs cuz our stomachs are a little too empty for eggs…” Mikey mumbled between bites.

‘She knows he’s lying she knows he’s trying to protect you she knows!’

He clenched his fist around his fork and swallowed hard, staring intensely at his plate. He put his free hand under the table to dig his nails into his thigh instead of hurting his head where she could see it.

Unfortunately Leo noticed and grabbed his hand under the counter to stop him. Which she also noticed.

He slapped his hand away and glared at him.

“Leo what are you doing to your brother?!”

Leo snapped his head up to look at her and he looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“Nothing!”

Raph wished he had hair so he could pull it all out.

“Oh for fucks sake, SPLINTER, we are NOT. FUCKING each other!” Donnie shouted as he suddenly stood up and leaned over the counter.

Raph looked at him in absolute horror.

Splinters eyes went wide and she looked at him angrily.

“What?!”

Donnie growled.

“I can see what you’re doing! You keep eyeing Raph up for being too close to us! You’re assuming the worst!” Donnie gestures to him with one hand without turning his gaze away from splinter. “You’re going to give him ANOTHER panic attack!”

Raph clutched his head in his hands, staring wildly at nothing as he curled his upper body over the counter, facing down at the table.

“Donnie!” He heard Mikey yell as another stool scooted back.

“I-I am not assuming anything!” His mother sounded offended and angry.

“Guys.” Leo said sternly.

“You literally asked him about my hoodie! As if it was the weirdest thing in the world for my traumatized rape victim of a brother to request items of clothing!”

“He’s just never worn anything like that before!”

“Gee Splinter I wonder why!”

“Donnie this isn’t your fight!” Mikey yelled and Raph heard a small smack.

“Someone has to fucking fight for that idiot! Everyone’s fucking dancing around it as if we don’t all know what’s wrong!”

Raph was staring at his plate so hard the colours were burning into his brain.

“No one wants to tell me what’s wrong! Everyone comes home from hell and avoids their mother like the plague! And I am just supposed to not fear the worst?! You have no idea all the things I can smell on you boys!”

“Where was that nose THE FIRST TIME?!” Donnie shouted as it sounded like he slammed both fists on the counter.

“What?!”

He was growling.

“You didn’t smell DAD all over Raph?!”

Raph stood suddenly, hands still clasped over his ears and he didn’t look at anyone, just kept his head facing the ground as he ran out of the room.

He bolted into the bathroom and proceeded to throw up all of the delicious pancakes he’d enjoyed so much. He couldn’t even have one nice thing.

He heard a gentle knock at the open door and didn’t turn away from the bowl.

“I have some water…” Leo said quietly. He made no effort to step inside.

Raph reached his arm back to take the cup without looking.

Leo passed it to him and stayed in the doorway.

Raph kept staring at the bowl, waiting to see if he has anything left before he chugged water and rinsed his mouth out a few times.

“Thanks…” he mumbled as he grabbed toilet paper to wipe his face with.

“Do you want me to sit with you..?”

Raph kept staring at the bowl.

“Yeah…”

Leo walked inside and sat beside him propping up an elbow on his knee.

“Can I rub your back?”

“Why are you asking permission?” Raph looked up at him frustratedly. He was just giving him a sympathetic frown.

“Cuz I think no one is asking how you feel before they decide they know what’s best for you.”

Raph turned back to the bowl, taking in what he meant.

“I… thank you…” he sighed, straightening his back out to look at the back of the toilet. He was pretty sure there was nothing left in him, but he just kind of wanted to sit in this quiet moment away from everyone else. Puke or not.

Leo took it upon himself to flush the toilet for him.

“If it helps, I’m pretty sure Mikey’s gonna chew Donnie’s ear off for that.”

“What does it matter, he’s not wrong.” Raph sighed.

“It was not his place to shout your bullshit at mom.”

Raph turned to look up at him frustrated.

“He’s right though. That’s what hurts.”

Leo frowned and nodded.

“He is, but it’s still not his place to talk over you about you. It’s not moms place to make you feel like shit about yourself when you’re barely holding on. And it’s not Donnie’s place to decide how you tell mom about your own shit.”

Raph looked away, feeling tears coming.

“I was never gonna tell mom. I was… I was literally never ever gonna tell her that…”

Leo scooted closer and leaned his head down to be at eye level with him.

“I get that. We all kinda knew that. I’m sorry Donnie did that to you.”

Raph closed his eyes.

“You can hug me if you want to…”

He felt Leo pull him in to a loose hug from his side, letting him lean his body against his.

“I… I know what Donnie did is fucked but… but I also mean that I was never going to be ABLE to tell mom that…”

Leo hummed and rubbed his shoulder.

“You’re half grateful. Half angry.”

He laughed a little. “Yeah… I know it’s.. it’s my fault for saying it was ok for her to join us but… but god Leo I feel so bad all the time, she seems lonely and sad and I just.. I can’t look at her and think about what she thinks of me…”

“I mean—“

“And don’t just tell me not to worry about what she thinks.”

There was a pause.

“That’s all you were gonna say.” Raph grumbled and pat Leo’s arm. “I hate that nobody ever gets along, and I hate that I’m stuck in the middle of it…”

“Sounds exhausting.”

“It is! I’m tired and I just want people to fucking… I don’t know.. I’m trying to be okay…”

Leo tugged him closer. “You don’t have to be okay, no one expects you to be okay.”

He sighed and pat Leo’s arm. “I wanna go back in there…”

Leo gently let go of him and stood up, holding his hand out to help him up. He then pointed at the sink.

“Maybe one last rinse and spit.”

Raph sighed and leaned over to gargle tap water for a moment before turning and staring up at Leo who gave him a thumbs up.

Leo let him lead the way out of the room.

He was still hearing arguing as he walked towards the kitchen.

“—have any idea how hard this was?!”

“Yes! Because you never shut up about it!”

“Oh that’s kind of you to say!”

“Does it EVER cross your mind how hard WE had it as BABIES?!”

He hovered in the doorway for a moment.

He saw his mother standing on a stool to shout at eye level, Donnie just glaring daggers still in the same spot.

Mikey had his arms folded, the expression on his face looked far older and exhausted than it should have on his sweet face.

“Of course I do! That’s why I needed to get you out of there!”

Raph walked in the kitchen and they all stared at him.

Mikey’s expression softened instantly, he looked worried.

Raph parsed the last thing his mother had said and he turned to look at her, feeling angry for some reason.

“But… you didn’t get us out… I got us out.” He said quietly.

He sensed Leo standing behind him leaning against the door frame.

His mother made a face.

“That’s not fair.” She said as she climbed down of the stool to sit normally. “I found us all a way out, I got us a home.”

“Six years later.” He almost whispered. He wasn’t sure where this was coming from.

Mikey and Donnie were staring at him in awe. Splinter looked offended.

“You know where I—“

“I know where you were. I know why you were gone.” He clenched his fists and took a breath, standing up straight. “I don’t blame you for leaving. Or being gone. I’m sorry. But…” he looked at Mikey, his sweet eyes growing larger. He eyed Donnie, whose guilty look was turning warmer. He looked back at his mother. “But when you were gone bad things happened to us, and no one came to save us.”

Her eyes were watering. It made his water too, so he turned his head to look away.

He sensed Leo step in beside him and felt him grab his hand gently.

Raph looked up at him, he was giving him a gentle smile and nodded at him to continue.

Leo had him.

He looked back at his mom’s tearful eyes.

“I-I know that! And I feel terrible about it every day!”

He gave her a dark glare.

“Did you know dad raped me?”

Her eyes went wide and she didn’t say anything.

He frowned.

“You either didn’t think about how bad we had it, or you knew and didn’t do anything about it. I don’t know which makes me more miserable to think about.”

“Raphael—“

“Stop!” He shouted. She tensed up and he felt guilty instantly, none of them liked a booming voice.

He rubbed his temple with his free hand.

“Stop. We know the therapist was April’s idea. And we know you didn’t let her get one for us before. I understand….” He sighed, “I understand that we were in hiding. That you were scared for us, scared we’d get caught, shipped back there and have the worst thing happen, but… but we could have gotten help years ago! I could have gotten help! I-I shut down mom! I forgot all about it! And you might think that’s good! That makes it all okay cuz I shut it all out but it came back to haunt me!

Tears were falling down his cheeks, he felt so angry and so miserable and so so justified.

“You said… you told me. When you found me you told me you had been watching us! Trying to watch over us right? What… what did you see dad do that finally pushed you over the edge and made you admit you were there?”

She looked so pained, so guilty. He didn’t want to break his stare no matter how much it hurt. He didn’t want to give her a way out.

“Your… the things he wanted to do to you… to your brothers because of you…”

“BECAUSE of me?!” He snatched his hand away from Leo’s to clench both of his fists.

Her tears were free roaming, she balled her fists on the counter.

“Because of how you were born! H-he got opportunity as soon as he found that out! He was going to use them on you! Because of how you were born!”

Raph shook his head dumbfounded, staring at the ground.

“Because of how I was born…” he repeated. “So it’s.. so it’s my fault guys! Because I was born like this!”

“Raphael that’s not what I meant!”

He snapped his head up to glare at her. “Isn’t it?! You just said what caused you to finally warn me was learning about that! How did you even learn that!”

She stared at him for a long while. Crying silently as she tried to find her words.

His muscles were trembling from how tightly wound he felt.

“I… saw you get examined in the lab… I was in the vent, y-you were on the table with your little legs…” she sobbed. “I-I saw what he did… i s-saw you lie there l-like you were asleep…”

Raph felt an icy chill run through his body.

He stood back, staring at her in shock and shaking his head a little.

“You… you saw him do it…”

It wasn’t a question.

Her face answered it anyway. Anguished, guilty, miserable. Sobbing away at the table.

He couldn’t move and she didn’t say anything.

“Mom…” Leo softly whispered beside him.

Donnie kicked his stool over with violent force and marched out of the room.

Mikey was staring at Raph with big wet eyes.

Raph was frozen.

“How… how could you..?” Leo asked her.

She hid her face in her hands, sobbing loudly.

“Y-you couldn’t go back! H-help would have brought attention! You couldn’t go back!” She wailed. “A-and you blocked it all out! What was I supposed to do!!!”

“SOMETHING!!!” Mikey screamed suddenly.

They all turned to look at him. He looked more furious than anyone had ever seen him, pure rage in his eyes, sitting up on the counter with his body hunched over.

He shook his head in utter disbelief and got down off the stool, marching over to Raph and taking his hand.

“We should leave.” He said seriously and tugged on it.

Raph didn’t want to move.

“H-he tried to do the deed himself Raphael! H-he tried to use himself as the donor first! H-how could I tell you that!” She slammed her fists down.

Leo’s hands were on Raph’s shoulders now.

“You… saw dad rape me…”

She kept sobbing.

“I-I couldn’t d-do anything to s-stop him!!”

He shook his head slowly and turned his body to face Leo behind him.

“I… I don’t want to talk to you…” he said softly.

Leo stepped around him to hold him from behind and Mikey tugged him once more.

This time he followed.

And just left her crying alone.

They both walked him into the bedroom and sat him down on their pile of beds, Donnie was already here curled up in the corner crying by himself.

Raph just sat very still, his feet still on the ground. He stared into space as someone put a blanket over him, someone else shut the door.

He couldn’t even cry, he felt emotionally comatose and just stared blankly into the wall.

He felt his brothers grab his hands and squeeze them.

“Raph…?” He thinks it was Leo, he couldn’t see.

A soft chirp came from his other side.

He blinked but didn’t look over.

“I… Don’t wake me up…” he mumbled. “I don’t want to feel this…”

They both went quiet, he sensed movement behind him, and then felt all three brothers hugging him on all sides.

He just kept staring at the wall.

“She watched him rape me…” he said quietly again.

The grips got tighter. Someone was sobbing. It could have been all of them. They just held on to him, and it was the only thing he was going to let himself feel.

“If mom watched him rape me, then that means she let him rape me…”

He kept staring. The grooves between the bricks started to glow from how little he’d moved his eyes.

“And if she let him do that, and then… then all these years she should have known what was wrong with me, right..?”

“Raphie…”

He closed his eyes.

He took a deep breath.

And then he just screamed as loud and long as he could. Until his lungs were fully empty and then some.

Then he finally let himself break down.

#wcs #HHHHHHHHHH UR MOM AINT SHIT RAPH IM SORRY........#SHE DID WHAT SHE THOUGHT WAS RIGHT AND YOUUUUUUUU SUFFERED FOR IT #sorry if its vague or sorry if im not vague at all and too obvious ITS. A LOT. and i cant parse my own ability to write hints and clues #like ive written exactly what they went through but it is too vomit inducing to make anybody read #hence the whole. this came from the worst case scenario thing #shredded descent #FEEL FREE TO TELL ME IF YOU THREW UP IN THE REPLIES!!!! ima kms now #writing

33 notes · View notes

fl0w3r-33 · 9 months ago

Text

Sit on my face

summary: you said it as a joke but Nate took itnseriously….

WARNING: smut and fluff,nate x plus sized!reader, concerns about weight,face siting, oral( fem receiving), squirting , baby girl, baby, mama, sweetie, nicknames

a/n: i kinda pulled this out of my ass so if it’s not good i’m so sorry😭 ( kinda proofread but not enough )

🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮

3rd POV

Nate always love to make you feel better about your weight, even when fans brought it up.He hated the fact that you couldn’t see yourself the way he sees you. Like the extra kisses, calling you beautiful whenever he can , and making sure you’re loved all the time.

Our POV

“Baby come ooooon” Nate says pushing me out the door. “ Alright, Alright. What are you even shopping for?” I ask. “you obviously, i wanna pick out stuff for you to put on.” He says opening my car door for me and shutting it behind me. “ Aw ok that’s sweet.” I smile at him. Nate turns on the car back out of his driveway with a hand on my thigh. He makes me play the playlist he made for me in the car and“I’ll Be Okay” by Why Don’t We comes on( shits a banger. my personal fav ).

“ Do you know where victoria’s secret is baby girl?” He ask looking around the mall. “ Yea it’s down there to the left” i say pulling him in the direction. “ perfect i wanna pick out some sets for you” he winks at me. I got all self conscious considering that lingerie shows a lot. He speeds up walking snapping me out of my thoughts. “ Go in the changing room baby i want them to be a surprise”. he saying walking away like a kid.

“Ok , Ok , Ok i found 6 a red, black, white, pink, purple and a like a light green, i think you’ll look good in them” hanging them up on the rack. “ Thank you, turn around baby“ i laugh at him. One after another i one try one he would hype me up making me feel better. “ Nathan if you don’t be more quiet ima sit on your face” i laugh at him. He goes quiet holding his hands above his head, watching me check myself out in body length mirror. “ Stop looking at me like that” i look at him smirking at me. “ i like the purple and the light green one the best. Im gonna get those.” i blink at him. Nate groans in agreements. I unlock the door and walk out and nate gives me a slap on the ass while walking behind me. My cheeks blush red paying for the sets and walk out of victoria’s secret.

I push open the front door and walk to Nate’s room setting my new stuff on his bed. “ ok baby i’m going to make some pasta for us” i say filling a pot up with water. He walks up behind putting his fingers in the belt loop of my jeans. “ You’ve been quite” i ask concerned. I feel him push his hard dick against me. “ Just thinking about what you said earlier.” he said in a deep voice. “what?” i turn around to face him. “ you said that you would sit on my face??” He leaned closer to me so we’re inches apart. “ sweetie i was joking” i chuckle at him. “ Well im not mama, sit on my face .” he grunted turning off the stove backing me into his room.

“ Why are you so nervous sweetheart?” he asked rubbing my thighs. “ i’m not it’s just like what if my like yk too heavy” i say avoiding eye contact at him. “ Baby don’t say that your perfect, now come here i’m hungry and you taste good.” Nate says laying back putting me on his lap. He lifts up my shirt exposing my lacy white bra. I shimmy off my pants and underwear, he pulls my bra off grabbing at my tits. “Get up here baby girl” he guides me up to his face. I lower very lightly onto his tongue. Shuttering after feeling his hot breath on my heat. “ i said sit mama not hover” he hooks his arms around my legs forcing me down on him. “ oh fuck” i gasped grabbing his hair. “ jesus you taste so good” he groaned into me. I start moving back and forth whimpering feeling his nose hit my clit. I close my thighs a little around his head as he slips his tongue in me.I start bouncing on him seeing blue eyes staring up at me. I feel a knot in my core while leaning forward gripping the backboard of his bed.

“hold it for me mama i wanna be here longer.” he says clearly pussy drunk. i’m basically screaming his name at this point begging to cum. He taps my thing signaling i can cum now curling his tongue in me . My legs close around him shaking while my cum drips out of the sides of his mouth. “ fuck me ,if i die anywhere i wanna be in there” he licks his lips sliding out from under me to kiss me. “ your fucking perfect don’t ever forget that i’m tired of letting you say shit like that to yourself baby” he gives me a shirt, laying me down and ordering pizza for the both of us…..

@junnniiieee07

#smut #nate doe #nathan doe #sturniolo smut

43 notes · View notes

piningpercussionist · 1 year ago

Note

Howdy, Pine! Can we get three headcanons for all your favorite Scott Pilgrim characters? :-)

Oh absolutely!!!! Lemme think for a minute...

((FUTURE FUTURE ME: I LITERALLY JUST PROCESSED YOU SAID THREE HEADCANONS IM SO SORRY--- YOU WILL UNDERSTAND 😭))

Okay I had a whole thing here, but we're gonna try this again but slightly more Hinged-- forcing myself to format so things don't get out of hand again. I will HAPPILY elaborate, though!!

((Whoop this is future me. This post is going to be so long if I dont do this, so I'm going to put this all under the cut! I'll try to remember to come back up here with the characters I talk about- alternative, should I not do that, maybe check the tags! I'll try to only tag the people I'm directly talking about))

KIM PINE

sexuality: very likely canonically Bi, I am a very big fan of her being a comp. het. lesbian, though (I get this both from my read of the comics/her character and just me Injecting myself into my favorite characters ✌️)

pronouns: she/her usually, but I think she'd be very open and vibe with they/them (me injecting myself again, but also she's just chill like that. I think she prefers if strangers use they/them for her, and her friends or partners use she/her. I'm undecided if she prefers her partners call her their girlfriend or their partner, though.)

Characters I think she has feelings for: RAMONA FLOWERS, Lisa Miller, (MAYBE Scott Pilgrim, still)

Elaboration on that:

I honestly think I can just. Point at some comic panels for Ramona. And the goat thing again. They make me Unhinged that's how canon that is.

Lisa!!! My beloved!!! I think she had a tiny crush on her in high school and had no idea that it was a crush until way later in life- maybe shortly after seeing her again, actually. But like. She's so obviously smiley and happy when she's around, I really can't help but read it that way! She, at the very least, gets an extreme mood boost in her presence, so she really likes having her around.

Scott Pilgrim.... *scrubbing at my face* okay. Okay. So, I have a couple different reads on her feelings for Scott, they're kind of complicated for me to dismantle. Especially since I haven't started my reread of book 6 (I've been giving my thumbs a break, which I am currently prolonging but I have been DYING for someone to ask me to talk about this series.) I'm going to go with my more canon read and leave it at that I think, because it's already becoming this text wall.

Scott was really important to her, I think. She's this aloof, sullen, bitchy girl and she knows it- and then this dorky idiot walks into her life and they really hit it off! They date, they have really sweet, private moments together- it's everything to her. It's someone loving her in spite of the hard shell she initially puts out, and managing to reach her soft, easily bruised heart in ways no one had before. But then he left so abruptly, and that heart was crushed under the weight of her own ribcage. I think she carried that hurt with her every day from that point- I don't imagine her having a particularly roaring love life after that. I think she kept that hurt bottled, and it made any relationships she DID attempt fall apart. It's a wound she's been nursing for way, way too long, and I think she knows that- that's why she wants so badly to forget about it. But then she goes to Toronto and runs into Scott again at the lowest point in his life, and she can't get herself to step away, because this is the only person who ever claimed to love her in a way she felt. I think her decision to stay was sort of... detrimental to her moving on. If she'd detatched herself and stepped back, maybe she could have moved on eventually- she could have worked on herself, or maybe lucked out and found someone who could get through those walls without a sledgehammer, and she would have been better for it. But that's not what happens. She stayed, and I think the longer she stayed the harder it became to keep herself completely shielding from him, because he's still that same goofy guy at his core- he's just a bit worse than she remembered him being. But damn near everything he does throughout the comics just continues to crush her until she HAS to leave- he can apologize, and she can accept it for the version of him she loved, but he's not enough to convince her to stay anymore. I'm going to cut my canon analysis there until I reread their next scene, rather than just continuing incase my thoughts have slightly changed, but like... man... they hurt me in a very unique way. If it was anyone other than Scott, it'd be tragic. (Maybe it still is, maybe that's the Kim Bitterness talking)

For a brief touch on my less canon take, with Kim being a lesbian: I think Scott would have been better placed in her life as a best friend than a partner, but when you're young, and honestly even when you're not all that young, emotional distinction like that can be so, so confusing. So all of the hurt remains very genuine, because she does love him, just not the way she thought she did.

((Because I do love the trans!fem Scott HC as well, I will say. I feel like it would be really, really funny for Kim to realize she's into women and be like "wow sure dodged round two of the Scott Pilgrim bullet" and then one day Scott shows up having started her transition and is like "Oh hey Kimmy!! I'm a lesbian AND a girl, like you now!!!" And Kim just. Crushes her drink or something in her hand like "oh no... oh no she's attractive again... FUCK FUCK FUCK." Obviously a lot more nuanced than that, though. I should probably clarify that I started answering this ask almost IMMEDIATELY after waking up and also BEFORE I've taken more pain meds. If this post has been or starts to become very scattered again, that's why lol.))

Bonus consideration: Hollie. I can dig her having a crush on Hollie, but I feel like it faded a little living with her, and then shattered entirely after the Jason Kim situation. Even an overwhelming attraction to women ain't savin that one, chief. That's just too severe a betrayal.

The Knives Situation: Oh Boy. So in the original answer for this I had a whole thing done up, lemme try to condense it. Basically, I think Kim woke up the next morning HORRIFIED by what she'd done. Like, dry heaving in the bathroom horrified. And this likely really hurt Knives's feelings, should she see! Which Kim would feel horrible about. I'm undecided on if she just runs from the situation before Knives can wake up, or if they have a sort of agrument/one-sided rant on Kim's part afterward where she just really tries to hammer home for Knives how not okay it was for them to do that- for HER to do that, given their ages and inherent power imbalance. In the event that this discussion happens, Knives absorbed none of it, and probably leaves that conversation a little wounded. I think it would proceed to play back in her mind when she and Stephen are talking at one of Julie's parties later on, though, and she'd probably approach Kim after that to thank her for being a reasonable adult about that, unlike how some of her friends had been. Once that understanding is reached, I think they could be good friends, although Kim probably teases her for how she started to dress like her after they first met.

Silly little things: If anyone's familiar with Night in the Woods, do you know the part where Mae's like "that's not drums... that's a computer..."? I feel like that has Kim energy. To me.

Also I think Kim sucks at Rockband- I know that releases like, way afterward or something so far as comic timeline goes, but bare with me, okay? It's my silly little headcanons! Anyway, she'd suck really, really bad on the drums, since so far as I can recall, they don't REALLY correspond with the music. If her friends force her to play, she demands either the mic or the bass, because "fuck you Scott, you try playing their stupid fucking drums." He proceeds to play flawlessly, much to her chagrin. She fairs better on the bass, but only a bit better than the drums, since her fingers aren't quite used to the movements.

Kim didn't think she liked cats for a while, mostly because she was only ever around them fleetingly, and generally in the homes of people who should have been cleaning their litter boxes more regularly. After hanging around Ramona's house more, though, she discovers she really love them! She feels a sort of kinship watching how they actually behave, and I think Gideon ends up warming to Kim very quickly, which probably helps with the very quick turnaround on her opinion. I think it'd be funny if sometimes, when Kim's over, Scott will try to beckon Gideon over to him for cuddles or affection, and the cat will just. Stare at him entirely unimpressed before jumping up into Kim's lap with exaggerated purring and chin rubbing before curling up for a "nap." Kim was in awe the first time this happened, and Ramona finds it ceaselessly amusing every time it happens. ((Funny additonal scenario: once after this happened Scott was whining to Ramona, who was coming to join them on the couch, looking generally very sad/cute/pathetic, and overcome with a sort of playful evil, Ramona proceeded to sit by and cuddle up to Kim as well. Kim immediately froze up and went bright red and wide eyed, Scott's jaw probably dropped before he dove into a theatrical, exaggerated spewl about the betrayal of it all, and Ramona just got to blissfully enjoy Kim cuddles while giggling at both of their reactions and petting Gideon.))

Conversely, I don't know how Kim feels about dogs. Like, I don't think she hates them or anything like that, but maybe they fill her with a sense of pity, for their associations with unwavering loyalty. Something about that specifically runs too close to things she considers about herself, at times, maybe. Idk, just kinda spit ballin here.

I think she does like rats! And mice. Idk. They're cute little guys and I like them, let me have this--

Oh man... just Kim's section is so long. And I have other characters to get to,,, buckle up I guess--- I mean, I did start with My Girl, so maybe the others will be shorter?

((This is future future me again... this is where I actually went back and processed the ask properly :') I have no words to describe my current emotional state beyond that I am trying really hard not to burst into a little fit of laughter at myself and wake my roommate--))

Three! Three headcanons!! I can do this (restraintrestraintrestraint)

Okay! Let's try being Normal About Media- and just as a note, they aren't really in any particular order, beyond Kim being the first because she IS legitimately my favorite, I think. Idk she's very Me.

Ramona Flowers

1. She doesn't really do labels, for things like her idenity; she does think pride flags are pretty, though. Scott got her a bi flag once and she decided to keep it and hang it in her room for this exact reason, though she did explain to him that she doesn't really consider herself anything but herself- Ramona Flowers. He's very understanding about that, although a little confused in the typical Scott manner! They eventually come around to just considering it being his flag, when he comes to terms with himself (yeah, spoilers, I HC him as bi)

2. Her hair actually does have magic properties to it that prevent it from getting absolutely butchered by all the bleaching she does- she doesn't know how or why, though. Maybe it's less magic and more to do with the supplies themselves? Unlike Scott, she's not as meticulous when it comes to reading the status effect labels on things she uses or consumes.

3. Of her former partners, I think she does have genuine lingering feelings for Roxie. So far as the comics/movie go, she simply repressed the hell out of them and plays the Deny Deny Deny! game, but so far as the show goes, I think she's come to terms with the fact that she still loves her, but horrifically fumbled her- she doesn't want to hurt Roxie like that again, so she's unlikely to ever try things again between them, I think. Not unless Roxie was the initiator, and even then, it'd take some coaxing.

Bonus 4. She absolutely has feelings for Kim. I feel like maybe further into their relationship she'd 100% ask Scott like "hey... you know your really hot friend Kim?" and proceed to discuss with him if being in a polyamorous relationship is something he could get behind. Maybe it'd happen after a period of time with Kim living with them too, or something.

Roxie Richter

1. She gets ALL the girls- all of them. She's an unholy TERROR for men where she lives, because she is notorious for giving women the night of their lives and making them never look back so far as dating men goes. Now, I don't think she deliberately breaks up people or goes after "straight" girls or anything, but it's probably something that's happened on accident before, so she's A Menace. I will say that she might deliberately swoop in and woo a girl she knows is taken if it's extremely clear that their relationship is just Not Right- like if she's seeing clear signs of abuse, or something. She isn't intending to get with these girls when she does this, but she is fully intending to get them out of shitty situations. She's even turned girls down after their (ex) boyfriends have stormed off in a huff, simply out of respect for them- she'll try to give them advice, and if they're adamant in trying New Venues, she might play matchmaker where she can, but she isn't really comfortable sleeping with them after doing stuff like that- to her, it feels gross, maybe even exploitative.

2. I actually don't know if this is meant to be canon or not, because it's noted alongside some of her sketches, but she's german/japanese in my eyes- but raised in the states. She knows English the best, and some German, but she doesn't really know much Japanese, much to her own agitation- she just struggles with it a lot, for whatever reason. She can kind of read some things, but if she tries to speak it she runs the risk of butchering the words. I personally further HC her dad as German and her mom as Japanese- dad by process of elimination, mom based loosely on how I read some of her and Ramona's conversations in the comics.

3. She is in fact whistling the tune in the show intending it to be from the Robin Hood movie- in fact, I think I'm going to HC it as one of her favorite animated films from childhood. (... do I HC her as a furry now?)

Lisa Miller

1. Disaster Bi! She's a bit of a Menace and she knows it; she likes to rile people up, but she can't really take what she dishes out. Like, if she'd done the kind of seductive teasing she does to Scott to Kim and received any sort of flirting back, her brain would shut down and she'd need to reboot. She doesn't know how to handle when someone else takes the reigns, which is why it was so easy and fun to play with Scott- he was too stunned/shy to play back, which she enjoys. Not to imply she doesn't enjoy having her brain melted a little, of course.

2. I think she makes it big after she heads to America! Or at least, bigger than she was. She sends her friends back in Toronto signed copies of movie posters and CDs and things when she can- she doesn't expect them to keep them, although she loves it when they do, but at least in Scott's case it's sort of a "incase of emergency, please sell" sort of situation. He does not, obviously. (Ramona probably does, though, both from admittedly petty lingering jealousy and because they just don't have room for all of it; Scott rarely seems to notice anyhow, and the money usually goes towards rent or random gifts for him anyhow)

3. I forget if everyone's sudden absence is noticed when they Poof briefly during the finalt episode of the show, but if it is I feel like Lisa starts to talk to Kyle, since he's in front of her, like "hey, what exactly happened there-" before looking out over everyone else who reappeared in their seats and noticing Scott is actually up there with them. She spends the rest of that night chatting up him and the league, and maybe even scores an in with Matthew for getting a foothold in her acting career!

Matthew Patel

1 . He absolutely has a dedicated cult following for his theatrical works, and it's warranted! He's genuinely good at what he does, and his passion is clear as day; any production is lucky to have him, and he knows it, which can kind of lead to butting heads behind the scenes. I feel like he might come across to his fellow performers as full of himself, especially given his proficiency with one man performances, but he truly is just deeply, deeply passionate about his work, and he wants to feel that passion with anyone he works with, too. He NEEDS his energy matched to feel like it's going to be a grand performance, and he simply doesn't notice how off-putting this can be for his coworkers as a result.

2. The demon hipster chicks have always been the visual age they are now, even when Matthew was a kid; he viewed them as older sisters growing up, and they're very protective of him perhaps as a result. At his current age, they're his best friends and personal body guards- they'll descend like rabid dogs on anyone that steps out of line around him, if he doesn't call them off. Sometimes it's a bit much for him, but they're usually pretty good about understanding when they do and don't need to interfere on his behalf.

3. Ya know I'm not sure if it's a HC I've seen at all but I could really vibe with trans!masc Matthew. I would love that for him, truly.

Scott Pilgrim

1. Look... I really love any trans!Scott headcanons. Like, any direction, I've said before; I genuinely have such a problem figuring out which version I enjoy best: he's trans!masc and has been all along, or trans!fem and Ramona eventually helps to crack that egg. But also, while I'm saying this, he is. So stupid. Not like maliciously stupid in this sense, absolutely not, but I feel like he's the kind of person to like. Run into someone from his past post their transition, with THEM coming up to HIM to be like "oh long time no see, Pilgrim," and then he would say something to the affect of "oh, you have the same last name as (DN)!!! Are you related? Kim, Kim!! Do you know if (DN) had any siblings?" while Kim and the other person just stare at him deadpan for a bit before bursting into laughter at his expense. He would then proceed to be really confused and just not get it, either until they explain it to him or like, he'd just suddenly sit up in a cold sweat later that night realizing what he did like "oh my GOD that WAS them, I said their dead name at them like seven times!! I am Going To Hell!!!" (And Ramona would just kind of blindly, lightly slap around in his general direction, like "honey you're not going to hell for basically affirming the effectiveness of their transition, go the fuck to sleep. They would've said something if it was a problem." Idk, that's just how he feels to me.)

2. When he has his own money for things, and space living with Ramona, he spends it on video games or video game related merch- it's probably a lot of patches and t-shirts, but I can see him starting to collect plushies, too! Like some of the really old kinda silly looking Sonic plushies, for example? If I had my Knuckles one on hand I'd use him as an example, but I think he's in storage somewhere :(

3. Gets into really heated arguments about video game mechanics and stat stuff where applicable; like, Ramona has to drag him away or else he will actively start fighting people kind of heated. He can hold chill conversations, but if he feels like he's being talked down to about a game that he's REALLY into, like Sonic Adventure (he has the director's cut!)

Wallace Wells

1. MENACE TO SOCIETY. He's comparable to Roxie in this way except he is so much worse (I say this affectionately <3) because he does just straight up, in canon, do things like steal Stacey's boyfriends! And that's his friend that he's doing that to! So I cannot IMAGINE what mischief he gets up to when he goes out drinking. He's probably ruined so many lives, naybe even marriages. What am I saying, maybe? Definitely. And he feels no remorse about this! In his eyes either your man was already gay or you needed to treat him better, sweetie; he HAS been rejected before, so clearly his charms can't ruin what ain't already broken.

2. While he does have feeling for Scott, which is basically canon I don't even want to hear it, he KNOWS better. Like, he'd been living with Scott for a while, so he knows if they were legitimately dating he probably would be even more sick of him than he already is. When they were still living together, though, there were times where he couldn't help but wonder if it would really be all that bad... right before Scott comes in and does or says something that just highlights for Wallace that he's making the Sane choice. Besides, Wallace is (and i hate using these terms but I straight up don't know what other words I could possibly use) a sugar baby; he can't keep up being both a sugar baby and Scott's effective sugar daddy (HATEHATEHATE THAT WORD) while ALSO paying rent. It doesn't really work out that well, especially with him having, at the time, such a shitty apartment to begin with.

3. I feel like Wallace really enjoys his nightlife and getting to sleep around, so I'm unsure if this is something still in play while he's with Mobile, or if he respects Mobile enough to do away with that entirely. Like, different situations work for different relationships, so if Mobile is fine with it then maybe it's something that continues! But taking into account the sparks from the show, maybe he'd actually be really fine being exclusive with Mobile. Especially given how well their future selves seem to be doing. Idk! Basically the sum of this one is just that, if Wallace is exclusive with Mobile, he misses be a bit of a whore, but he's very happy where, and with who he is, now.

Envy Adams

1. She gives me vibes.. queer vibes... in some sort of direction.... idk if I'm fully behind her also being a comp. het lesbian or just labeling her a disaster bi, but I also get a vague sense of gender fuckery. It's entirely her name thing, probably, but I can see Envy being genderqueer.

2. She probably hunted Lynette down after that show- an arm was likely Not Enough to quite satisfy that rage. Especially since she didn't get the satisfaction of beating Todd more thoroughly herself, since Scott stepped in. Conversely, for the show canon, Wallace has a target on his back for the rest of her life, as far as she's concerned, even in a world where her feelings for Todd were just misunderstood- she considered him her best friend, and you don't get away with hurting her friends like that unless you're her.

3. I think I'd like to HC that some part of her regrets booting Scott from the band the way she did back in college? Maybe not immediately, or even soon, but I feel like sometimes she would think about him and their relationship as a whole and just feel bad, Idk. Like, she doesn't want to get back with him at all, but I could maybe see her offering to promote Shatterband (or Sex Bob-Omb, in the show,) or even play with him as a genuine apology instead of a coy trap somewhere down the line.

Knives Chau

1. Look... look I know I'm about to sound like a broken record... comp. het. lesbian or bi. HEAR ME OUT: her puppy dog love for Scott is really just that- something cute and innocent, but very intense, especially once he cuts her off in that honestly really brutal manner. Teenage heartbreak is messy- even if you feel like it was real, true love you had, you can often realize later in life that what you felt was just admiration, or something else innocuous like that. I think she reaffirms it to herself as a deep and true love because of how intense the pain of that breakup was, paired with everything that comes after, and I think the show really highlights that for me? Because in the show, with Scott out of the picture entirely, she's just a lot less intense about it. I think after playing music and hanging around his friends, she realizes she didn't really love him all that much, just thought he was a cool older guy and liked that he took an interest in her, even if she recognizes how wrong that was now. ((I probably have more articulate thoughts on this but I am really starting to feel the lack of pain meds so I need to get through this--))

2. Knives is really good at rhythm games and things like DDR or, when it's eventually released, Just Dance. Like, freakishly good. She picks them up just as well and just as quickly as she did her instruments.

3. With how quickly she picked up her instruments, she kinda gives me honor student vibes? Idk. I feel like it'd be a little stressful for her later on, because I do think her passionate drive for music makes her grades take a slight spin, but she just gives off that energy for me. Knives is a lot smarter than people give her credit for, I think, Idk.

... yes, I am very normal about media... spending 3 hours on 1 ask that offered me a lot more simplicity than I can apparently manage...

#asks #txt #kim pine #ramona flowers #roxie richter #lisa miller #Matthew Patel #scott pilgrim #wallace wells #envy adams #knives chau #i think i might have said this in the post but maybe i didnt or removed it- they're not necessarily ordered by like. most to least favorite #i just kinda chucked same names on there and went. debated starting some for lucas but i think my hands need a break- and my stomach a Snac #spto #sp comic #spvtw #headcanons #scott pilgrim takes off #scott pilgrim comic #scott pilgrim vs the world #potential spoilers for both the comics and the show i think?#if anyone wants this tagged w ship stuff for my little blurb under Kim lemme know #also I didn't include Roxie in the list of characters I think she likes but she should have been an honorable mention. i mostly had comic +#+ brain with that section #long post #woollyworm #demon hipster chicks #scott pilgrim headcanons

66 notes · View notes