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youvebeenlivingfictional · 10 months ago

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What You Do to Me

Pairing: Jake Hangman Seresin x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only. Any minors interacting will be blocked

Notes: This was an abandoned Kinktober prompt from forever ago, so. Enjoy.

Not beta-read. Will probably spot 80 typos as soon as I post. Also posted it to the wrong blog the first time, whoops.

Length: 4.9K

Warnings: Best friend's dad Jake; age gap; praise kink; scent kink; masturbation; oral sex (female receiving); vaginal fingering; finger sucking; safe sex

Summary: You'd had a crush on your best friend's father for as long as you'd known the guy. It had been years. You'd gone on dates with other people; you'd had a couple of relationships, but you were never able to get the man fully out of your head. Jake made you so nervous, and it didn't take much—a hand on your back as he passed you in the kitchen, a smile across the table, a cheeky wink as he said pointedly said something so deeply uncool that Rebecca groaned in frustration. He was so intimidating, and brilliant, and gorgeous—and despite your intelligence, he just scrambled your brain.

GIF by stilinskiderek

“I’m sorry about this.”

It had to be the fifth time you said it, but you seemed not to be able to think of anything else to say. You almost never could when Mr. Seresin was nearby. The soft chuckle that he loosed now did absolutely nothing to lessen your embarrassment—which was insane.

You'd been coming to the man's house for years, but you couldn't shut off the part of you that was so nervous in his presence. He glanced back toward you, shifting your duffel bag in his hands as he watched you hang up your coat on what had essentially become your hook in his home.

“It’s alright,” He insisted. “Are you hungry?”

You were starving, but you didn’t want to inconvenience the man more than you already had. Your old college roommate and best friend, Rebecca Seresin, wouldn’t be home for a full day, so you’d be alone with Mr. Seresin the entire time.

It was your own fault—you’d misread one of her messages and thought that she would be home when your train got in. You just wanted to keep yourself busy for the next day and not bother Mr. Seresin any more than you already had.

“No! No,” You fibbed, shaking your head.

But his little smile and knowingly raised brows told you that he didn’t buy your insistence for a second.

“Well, I was planning on ordering pizza anyway. You’re more than welcome to it when it gets here.” He turned away from you, adding, “Make yourself at home. I’ll go put your bag in your room.”

You bit your lip. Your room. It was his guest room, but you'd stayed there so often that he'd come to think of it as yours. It made you giddy. You’d been to the Seresin home so many times over the last few years, a few of your standard toiletries and a couple of spare pairs of clothes had their place in the guest room. When Rebecca had first invited you over for Thanksgiving break years ago, you couldn’t have known that you’d wind up spending so much time at the Seresin house.

You knew where everything was, you did the occasional load of your laundry, you knew where they hid the spare key. You were comfortable. Well—you were usually comfortable. Finding yourself alone with Mr. Seresin like this was pretty out of the ordinary.

You'd had a crush on your best friend's father for as long as you'd known the guy. It had been years. You'd gone on dates with other people; you'd had a couple of relationships, but you were never able to get the man fully out of your head. Jake made you so nervous, and it didn't take much—a hand on your back as he passed you in the kitchen, a smile across the table, a cheeky wink as he said pointedly said something so deeply uncool that Rebecca groaned in frustration. He was so intimidating, and brilliant, and gorgeous—and despite your intelligence, he just scrambled your brain.

You walked deeper into the home, glancing around the familiar surroundings. You’d take your time heading up, you decided. You wanted to shower; you felt so gunky from the hours-long train trip. You walked into the kitchen, opening the fridge and looking through the things in there.

There wasn’t a lot, so maybe he really had been planning on ordering a pizza before you called him to ask him to pick you up from the station. You eyed the six pack of beer before you glanced back, as if expecting Mr. Seresin to pop up and shoo you away from the alcohol like a bad puppy. When he didn’t, you reached out, taking one of the cans and shutting the fridge. You pushed yourself up onto the counter, opening the beer and taking a sip.

Your stomach flipped at the sound of Mr. Seresin’s footsteps nearing again. You tugged your phone out of your pocket, eyeing the screen and swiping through various apps to occupy your attention. His footsteps slowed, then seemed to still. You could feel his gaze lingering on you. It was a feeling that you’d grown more and more familiar with, and longed increasingly over the last few years.

“You gonna ID me?” You finally quipped as he came closer.

“I know you’re old enough. Have been for a while.”

You watched him round to you, leaning heavily on the counter as he drew out his phone. He seemed to swipe through a few things with a deep knit to his brow. You let yourself just watch for a few quiet moments. You��d rarely had the opportunity to look at him like this, to admire his features so openly, without fear of your friend catching you. His tongue poked out, and your stomach fluttered as he swept it along his lower lip.

“Extra cheese alright for you?” He asked. Your stomach flipped again as his eyes darted up to yours, catching you staring.

“Sure,” You agreed. You reached out to take a sip of your beer, but he took it before you could, raising it to his lips and taking a deep pull. You scoffed a stunned laugh, brows raising.

“Excuse you,” You reached out, prying it from his hand, and trying to ignore the skittering of goosebumps that ran up your arm as your fingers brushed his.

“My house, my beer,” He reminded you.

“Well, I licked it, so it’s mine.”

It was juvenile nit-picking, but you didn’t miss the way his gaze dropped to your lips before he hurriedly looked down at his phone, clearing his throat. Hell, you needed to get out of there.

“I’m gonna go freshen up.” You slid off of the counter, leaving the beer on the counter and sliding past him.

“Pizza should be here in twenty.”

“Sounds good!”

The guest room was just as you remembered it—sky blue walls, queen-sized bed, low walnut dresser and all. You crouched beside your duffel bag, fishing through it for a pair of sweatpants and a long-sleeve shirt. You hesitated as you drew them out, lips twisting thoughtfully. The combo was comfy, but it wasn’t the cutest thing you’d brought with you. You reached deeper into the bag, drawing out a pair of tight-fitting leggings and a tank top with a low back and a sweetheart neckline—

No! No, why would you do that? Mr. Seresin wasn’t looking at you that way…But, if he wasn’t looking, what was the harm in dressing this way?

You shoved the sweatpants and long sleeve top back into your bag before straightening up, stripping off. You kicked your clothing into a pile beside your duffel bag. If you’d only been there a time or two, you might’ve been more wary of leaving your things that way, but the Seresin house felt like a home away from home. You’d neaten up later.

You headed into the bathroom, kicking the door shut and cranking on the shower. You began to hum that you’d had stuck in your head all day, dropping your clothes on the counter to change into. You got into the shower, tugging the curtain shut. You took your time cleaning up, using the water’s cover to transition from humming to singing softly under your breath.

You managed to lose track of time, only realizing how long you’d taken when you heard a knock on the door. Your eyes widened as you heard the door open just a little.

“Pizza’s here.”

“Okay!” You squeaked, “Thanks!”

You pushed out a breath as you heard the door close again. You shut the shower off, listening closely for the sound of the bedroom door closing as well. You snagged your towel from the bar outside of the shower, drying yourself off before stepping out. You eyed your outfit again. It was going to be fine—if he really didn’t care, then it really wouldn’t bug him, right? And if he did…A thrill of excitement trickled over you as you dressed. You gave yourself a look in the mirror, eyeing the expanse of your back revealed by your top. You gave a little shimmy, grinning at yourself before opening the door. You drift back into your room, bending down and scooping up your clothes to toss into the hamper. You glanced through it, frowning.

Didn’t you…

You turned, glancing between where you stood and where you’d dropped your things.

Where did your underwear go?

“You’re not seeing anyone?”

Maybe there was some wishful thinking on your part, but you were almost certain that Mr. Seresin was flirting with you—and that question wasn’t helping. The conversation hadn’t just been limited to the typical topics that you tended to discuss with Rebecca present. Sure, he’d asked you about how work was going, but it had moved on to what each of you liked to do in your free time, what you wanted your future to look like, his favorite places that he’d traveled, and where he’d like to go in the future—and now, whether or not you were seeing anyone.

You shrugged a little, poking a few remaining crumbs on your plate.

“Guys my age just don't interest me. They’re all immature little assholes.”

“I seem to remember being like that.”

“You’re not anymore?”

“Ouch!” Jake had laughed, slapping his hand over his heart. “That hurt me.”

“What about you? Are you seeing anyone?” You couldn’t resist the opportunity to ask. Jake’s brows rose a touch before he gave a short shrug.

“I haven’t for a while.”

“Why not?”

“Just haven’t felt the need.”

Your brow furrowed, your head tipping to the side as you considered that.

“Becca’s moved out, you’re here all by yourself…Doesn’t that get lonely?”

“Work keeps me busy.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Your stomach flipped as Jake’s eyes narrowed. He finally looked down at his food, shrugging again.

“I don’t think about it much.”

You weren’t sure you believed that—and it certainly wasn't a no.

“You don’t have to do those.”

You kept your focus on the dishes in front of you, even as he joined you at the counter.

“I really don’t mind.”

“You’re an angel.”

Angel—that had no right sounding so goddamn good coming out of his mouth.

“That’s probably a bit much, Mr. Seresin.”

“You can call me Jake, you know.”

“I know,” You chuckled. “Just…Just a habit, I guess.”

“We’ll have to break you of that.”

The assertion made your stomach a flurry of butterflies. You hadn’t been blind to the speculative little looks that he had given you throughout dinner, or the change in his tone as you’d asked about him being lonely.

“Want another one?” You heard. You glanced back toward Jake to find him taking another beer out of the fridge.

“Sure,” You nodded, “Thanks.”

You bit your lip as Jake sidled up beside you again, setting the beer down by the sink and taking a sip from his own.

“I’m gonna head up in a bit,” He warned, “But you’re obviously welcome to stay up, do whatever you want.”

You nodded, trying to ignore the pangs of inadequacy and disappointment that made a home in your chest.

“Sounds good,” You fibbed. “Long day?”

“Yeah, and I’ve got a few emails to wrap and send off before I head to bed.” Jake raised the beer to his lips. “Holler if you need anything, though.”

“Sure! Thanks. And thanks again, for,” You raised a hand, waving around the kitchen, “You know.”

“Anytime,” He smiled. He patted your back, holding your gaze. “Goodnight.”

Damn, his hand felt so wide and so warm against your skin. You fought back a shiver, but couldn’t help pressing back into his touch just a little.

“Night,” You murmured. You saw a slight flicker in his expression, but before you could read into it, Jake was pulling back, his hand falling away. You turned back to the dishes, sighing as his footsteps receded. You could still feel the warmth of his palm against your skin. It was scant contact, but you were pretty sure you’d be thinking about that all night.

You shut off the sink, looking around. The house was so quiet. What the hell were you going to do? You supposed you could watch something? They had, like, every streaming service known to man, but you didn’t really want to watch anything. You sighed heavily, resigning yourself to a night of reading and fantasizing in your bed.

He shouldn’t have taken them. What the hell was he thinking? Jake eyed the pillow that he’d tucked your underwear beneath, swallowing thickly. He’d spotted them as he’d been leaving the guest room, just plopped atop a pile of clothing next to your duffel bag. He’d been thinking about them all throughout dinner—the dirty little secret waiting for him in his bedroom. He found himself listening for your footsteps, but…Nothing. Maybe he could just sneak them back into your room without you noticing? He could—He was sure he could.

Jake lifted the pillow away, taking up the scrap of black lace. He hesitated, heart pounding in his chest before he raised them closer. He took a whiff, then moaned quietly, pressing his face fully into the fabric as his dick twitched in his pants. Fuck, he could get addicted to that scent. He glanced back toward the closed door. You wouldn’t be up anytime soon, right? You’d probably stay downstairs, watch something before you headed up. He’d have time to put them back. He could be quick.

Jake hurriedly stripped off and grabbed some lube before he climbed onto his bed, taking up your panties again. He laid back, grasping himself in his slicked hand and holding the panties to his face with the other. He drew a deep breath in through his nose, humming low in his throat as he jacked his hardening cock.

You’d been damn near irresistible at dinner. The swell of your breasts had been tantalizingly visible as you’d leaned over your plate. The low back top exposing the expanse of your smooth skin had nearly driven him to distraction when he’d seen you at the sink, and the leggings you’d opted for had made him want to peel them off of you and bend you over the goddamn counter.

Were you still downstairs, laid out on the couch? He’d seen you make yourself at home before, one leg on the cushions, the other on the floor. Jake wanted to push your thighs wide and bury his face between them. He wanted to feel you grind against his lips, hear the little gasps and whines he was sure you’d make. He’d felt you press against him in the kitchen—he was willing to bet you’d be fucking gag for it.

Jake took in another heady breath, groaning, “Fuck,” Aloud before he could stop himself.

You froze at the curse. You’d been on your way to your bedroom when you’d heard it. Was Jake…Okay? Maybe he’d stubbed his toe, or dropped his phone behind the bed, or—

Your jaw dropped, heart pounding as you heard him moan. There was no way he was making that sound because of a stubbed toe. You bit your lip, creeping closer and pressing your ear to the door. You couldn’t hear as much as you could if you just….Opened the door a little.

You bit your lip, shaking your head. No way, there was no way you were going to do that. It would be a gross invasion of privacy, he’d surely kick you out of the house if he caught you. But you could listen just a tiny bit more, right? You pressed your ear even closer, letting your eyes slide closed as you heard him panting, cursing.

Was he naked? Had he just tugged his cock out of his sweatpants for a quick one? You slipped your fingers beneath the band of your leggings, toying with your neglected, tingling clit. You breathed softly between your parted lips as you ground against your hand, straining to hear the needy grunts and groans on the other side of the door. Fuck, you had to be quick. If he caught you—

Your heart plummeted into your stomach as you heard him say your name. Your fingers stilled, eyes popping open as you stood outside of his bedroom with your hand in your pants. Could he see your feet beneath the door? Had you made a sound and not realized? What as he going to do—

Jake groaned your name again, the sound chased with a ragged-sounding, “Angel…Mm, fuck, smell so fucking good…”

You slowly slid your hand out of your pants as you stared down at the doorknob. You could just hardly hear him over the blood roaring in your ears. You swallowed thickly before you raised your shaking hand to the knob, slowly turning it. You opened it slowly, wary of the door creaking. You finally opened it just enough to see the bed. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of Jake splayed out on top of the sheets, thrusting up into his hand as he pressed something to his nose. He murmured your name again, thighs tensing as his thumb swept across his cock head. You got a better look at the fabric in his hand as your focus adjusted to the dim light of the room.

You swallowed thickly. You could still leave—he hadn’t seen you. But when would you ever have another chance like this? You’d caught him red-handed. You drew in a deep, steadying breath as you gathered your courage.

“Finish answering those emails?”

You watched as Jake started, scrambling back and yanking his sheets up to cover his body. You took in his wide, almost wild eyes, and the flush rising in his cheeks. He swallowed thickly.

“What are you doing in here?”

“Looking for those,” You nodded toward the panties where they were still balled in his fist. His grip tightened on them as his glance darted to the lace. You climbed onto the bed, straddling his hips.

“What are you doing?” He asked lowly. You shifted in his lap, thrilling at the feeling of his cock beneath his sheets.

“What we’ve both been thinking about.”

“This isn’t right.” “Neither is stealing my panties, but that didn’t stop you.”

He heaved in a deep breath, jaw going tight.

“I shouldn’t have taken them and I’m sorry. You—” He sucked in a breath as you shifted in his lap again. “You need to leave."

“Why? So you can finish the job up here yourself?” You searched his face, letting your focus travel down to his broad shoulders and muscled chest. You’ve often seen him in sweat-soaked shirts, caught the slightest patch of skin as he’s raised his shirt to swipe at his forehead, but the glimpses have always been so brief, and few and far between

“I mean I could, but…” You leaned in, raising your pussy-slicked fingers to his face, sliding them against his lower lip, “Then we’d both have to deal have our fun alone.”

Jake’s tongue swept across his lips, just barely grazing your fingertips as you pulled them back. You watched his eyelashes flutter, his nostrils flare as he took in the scent of you. He tipped his chin up, tongue darting out to sweep across your fingertips. You smoothed your hand over his cheek, stomach swirling with butterflies as he turned his face into your palm. You pressed closer, brushing a kiss along his tight jaw. Jake drew in a deep breath, shaking his head.

“We shouldn’t,” He mumbled—but the insistence wasn’t nearly as stern as it had been just a few moments okay. You rolled your hips down against him, resting your forehead against his.

“Do you want me?”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is?” You reached down, taking hold of his hand. He let you lift it, fingers trailing gently over your side, around to the band of your leggings. You let it linger there for a moment before you guided it beneath the fabric. You sighed softly as his fingertips grazed your aching clit, and smiled as he reached further down, swiping against your slick folds.

“You feel that? What you do to me?” You whispered, tipping your hips into his touch. “That’s all for you, Jake.”

You heard him moan low in his throat, and your heart stuttered as he tipped his chin up, his lips brushing yours.

“Fuck, angel,” He murmured, “What are you doing to me?”

Jake’s lips crashed into yours, sending you swaying back, then into him again. You moaned, parting your lips and sharing heated kisses. You whined as Jake leaned back and slid his hand from your leggings, wary that he was changing his mind. Instead, you watched as he lifted his fingers to his lips, sucking them into his mouth before he shoved them into yours.

You gagged at the sudden intrusion, raising your hand and grasping his wrist as he stroked his fingers along your tongue. You sucked in a greedy breath as he yanked his hand away again, grasping the backs of your thighs and tipping you onto the mattress. You pulled your top up, tossing it off as he grasped your waistband, tugging your leggings down and flinging them away. Your mouth fell open as he dove between your legs, his shoulders pressing your thighs wide. Your eyelids fluttered as his tongue swept across your pussy.

You shuddered at the slick, heated slide of his tongue against your plumping cunt. His lips brushed, then wrapped around your clit, sucking it tenderly. Your mouth fell open with a moan, your hand sliding down into his closely-cropped hair. You didn’t need to urge him on, or plead. Jake tipped his head from side to side, teasing you messily. You could feel the wet slip of your juices spreading between your thighs with each lash of his tongue. You raised your other hand to your breasts, smoothing your thumb over your pebbling nipple, arching up as your pleasure began to swell.

You felt so close so quickly, and riled up further as he speared a finger into your throbbing pussy. You felt his head lift, his tongue sweeping from side to side as he pumped and curled his finger, then added another. You bit your lip as your cunt clenched around him, unable to help leaning into the sensation.

“Jake,” You warned, “I’m— Oh god.” Your warning was bitten off as Jake’s eyes crinkled with his smile. He didn’t let you get another word in as he leveled sucking kisses to your clit. Your mouth fell open, your grip tightening on his hair as your hips bounded down against his lips. He groaned against you, the vibration sparking every nerve in your body as you let yourself go, your eyes squeezed shut as waves of pleasure pulsed through your body. You sagged back against the mattress, heart pounding as Jake drew his fingers from you. His kisses trailed up over your belly, brushing across your breasts before he caught your lips in a filthy kiss. You shivered at the taste of your arousal as it lingered on his tongue.

You felt his hardened cock brushing against your slick inner thighs as he ground against you. You reached down, curling your fingers around him, and thrilling at the feeling of him in your grasp. You’d seen him earlier, of course, but the light had been dim, and now, with your fingers wrapped around him, he felt so damn big—Not just long, but thick.

“What do you want, angel?” Jake murmured between kisses. “Anything, ask for anything, I’ll fucking give it to you.”

“I want you to fuck me, Jake.”

A wide grin split across his face as he pressed his hand between your legs, palming the slick, tender flesh.

“Your wish is my command.”

“That too much for you?”

You would’ve been more self-conscious about your needy whimper if it wasn’t for the slight note of strain in his voice. You’d know that you were in for a wild ride when you’d rolled the condom on, but this was next level. You swallowed thickly, your eyelids fluttering and blinking against the well of pleasurable tears.

“N-no,” You breathed.

“Good girl. Almost there, angel.”

Almost?

“How much more is there?”

Jake chuckled through your incredulous question.

“You’re taking me so goddamn well.” His praise made you arch up against him, your breasts brushing against his muscles as you pulled in a shuddering breath.

“Fucking made for my cock—mm.” His voice dropped to a breathy murmur as his hips finally pressed flush against yours. Your nails dug into the strong, tanned skin of his shoulders. Your cunt clutched at him greedily, adjusting to the almost harsh way his girth spread you. You let your eyes slide closed as he planted his knees on the mattress, levering your hips against his and gaining better purchase.

Despite your somewhat leisurely preparation and the tender way that he eased into you, the first snap of his hips was almost brutal. Your moan choked out of your throat, a broken yell of his name leaving you as your nails dragged harshly across his skin.

“You have any idea—How long I’ve wanted you?” He grunted between deep thrusts. “How badly I wanted to—fuck—bend you over the goddamn counter earlier?”

You couldn’t stop the satisfied, thrilled grin that spread your lips, finally certain that your flirty gambit had hit the nail on this particular head.

“You mean you didn’t just steal my panties for fun?”

Jake huffed a strained laugh as he dipped his head down for a deep, searching kiss. You curled your arms around his shoulders, keeping him close as your hips drove up against his. He broke your kiss with a gentle nip to your lower lip, and a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Hold on tight, pretty girl.”

He set an almost furious pace, the sounds of your slapping skin nearly drowning out your whimpers. Your arms tightened around him, clinging to him as he took and took and took. You peered up at him almost wondrously, watching the flex and clenching of his muscles; the roll of his hips; the shine of your juices on his condom covered cock as he fucked you. Your toes curled in the sheets as your legs wrapped around his.

“Jake,” You moaned, “You feel so fucking big—Fuck, just like that.”

His growl-edged groan tore through you as his pace seemed to stutter a little.

“Harder?” You begged. He chuckled cruelly, thumbs swiping against your hips.

“Angel,” He shook his head, “Any harder and I’d break you.”

You tipped your head back against the pillows, surrendering to his whims—his thrusts, curses, kisses, nips, bites. You cunt throbbed as he drew his cock back, the tip still nestled in your entrance. He watched you closely, eyes dark with want as you strained against his grips and tried to draw him back in.

“Do you think you could cum just like this?” He murmured. “Hm?”

“I want your cock, Jake.”

“You have it, angel. You feel that?” You whimpered, wriggling against the sheets as he eased himself back in, inch by tortuously slow inch. “You feel what you do to me?”

You nodded blearily, growing closer to your orgasm as he grasped your wrists in one of his hands and pulled them up over your head. He curled close again, chest brushing yours as his hips ground into you deeply.

“Jake,” You sighed, forehead knocking against his, arching up against him. “I’m almost—fuck, ‘m so close, please.”

Jake grinned brightly, sliding his hand between the two of you and toying with your tender clit. Your jaw dropped at the onslaught, your pussy tightening and throbbing as you came. Jake followed close behind, a low, rough growl pushing against your neck as he followed close behind. Your eyes closed as his hips bounded, then stilled. He sighed into your neck, breath hot against your neck as the two of you settled. He tipped his head up, nuzzling your temple as you smoothed your hands over his back.

He drew out of you slowly, your cunt aching and clenching as he pulled away. You swallowed thickly, peering up at the ceiling as you heard Jake get out of bed. It was chased by the click of him turning on his bathroom light, and the hush of running water.

Oh…God, that was good, but you hadn’t thought about this part. Was he going to ask you to go back to your room? Should he even have to ask? You know what, maybe you should just go right now, before he had to say anything—

You propped yourself up on your elbows as Jake climbed back into bed, gently pushing your thighs apart and wiping you down. You bit back a bashful smile as he pressed a kiss to your hip. You watched him lob the washcloth toward the hamper before he cuddled close, propping his hands up beside your elbows.

“Going somewhere?” He asked.

“Bed?”

“You’re in one, angel.” Jake lowered his head, brushing his lips against yours. “But you’re welcome to go back to yours if you like.”

You leaned up, taking his lower lip between your teeth and giving it a tug, grinning as he pressed closer, lowering the both of you back onto the sheets.

Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @lorecraft ; @kmc1989

#Jake Seresin x Reader #Jake Seresin x You #Jake Seresin/Reader #Jake Seresin/You #Jake Seresin fic #Jake Seresin imagine #What You Do to Me

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matcha-milkies · 2 months ago

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LIKE AN OLEANDER

Summary: Bill Cipher needs a footstool and a thoroughly Stockholmed Ford is happy to oblige.

Relationships: Bill Cipher & Ford Pines, Pyronica is there too

Content Warnings: Abuse, Master/Pet, Psychological Torture/Horror/Trauma, Stockholm Syndrome, Victim Blaming, Sensory Deprivation

Tags: Triangle Bill, Canon Divergence - Weirdmageddon, Bill Cipher Wins, Collars, Chains, Whump, Hurt No Comfort, Bill Cipher is a Jerk

Word Count: 1,306

Link to AO3: Here

A/N: Based on @jellyskink’s immaculate Domesticated Ford AU, in which Bill mentally breaks Ford in the 1980s and brainwashes him into an obedient and fawning pet. Weirdmageddon started early, and over time the weirdness bubble surrounding Gravity Falls naturally expanded to contain both California and Oregon. If you want to learn more, there’s a lot more tidbits on their blog, though fair warning it’s a pretty dark and sad AU.

Thank you, jellyskink, for giving me the green light to write a fic for this!

I saw someone say this au is “all pain, no sex” which is really at the heart of what I look for in fics, but is so painstakingly absent in most fandoms, so this is a godsend •⩊•

If you haven’t listened to “Oleander” by Mother Mother what are you even doing with your life /lh

Bill Cipher is in a particularly good mood today. He and Pyronica probably broke a record for largest bonfire in California, even counting all their previous antics over the years. Not the dream demon’s most creative endeavor by a long shot, but hey, sometimes you just gotta start a blazing inferno to let off some steam. Nothing wrong with a bit of simple, straightforward arson now and then.

It’s only when he returns to the Fearamid, practically glowing, buzzing and high off the screams of the innocent, that he remembers the state he left Sixer in.

The man is in a kneeling position, collared by the neck. His hair, fluffy and disheveled, feathers down to around his shoulders, brushing against the cruel blue metal. His twelve fingers twitch and grasp at nothing, futilely, as though groping for purchase on a rugged cliffside. His purple sweater is rumpled in places, like he had pulled and grabbed at that too, to no evident avail. He’s whimpering to himself, words that are at first indiscernible as Bill enters the massive chamber.

The scientist is tethered to a ring near the base of the Throne of Frozen Human Agony, staring vacantly into the middle space, unseeing. It’s not his fault. Bill severed all input from his optic nerves, so he literally can’t see. Or hear. Or feel. Yeah, he cut off those nerves too. It was supposed to be a punishment that lasted a few hours. And then Bill had left and gotten carried away with his fun, and well, it had been an entire day.

Whoops.

Make no mistake, he doesn’t feel bad about it. If anything, it’s kind of funny, like forgetting to feed your dog! Wait. Humans don’t find that funny. Well, who can expect them to understand the emotions of an all-powerful chaos god? He draws closer, and the previously indiscernible words sharpen into clarity.

“I love you, my muse. I love you.”

Repeated ad nauseam to the uncaring void.

“Aww,” Bill clasps his hands together and brings them closer to his eye. “He’s so pathetic!” Pyronica, who came in with him, nods her agreement and laughs along. This must be what it’s like to catch your puppy mid-dream, its little tongue lolling and leg kicking at nothing.

He can’t remember whether he instructed his pet to repeat those words or not. Honestly, it’s anyone’s guess. Bill’s will and Ford’s are so inextricable at this point that Ford often does things without needing to be told. Of course, they’re not entirely on the same wavelength, or else punishment wouldn’t be required in the first place.

“Eh, remind me to snap him out of it in another half an hour,” Bill says, settling himself on the throne. With a wave of an arm he summons a martini glass. “I’m gonna have myself a drink.”

“Sure thing, boss.” He summons a glass for her too, and hipshot, she accepts. “Hey, you think we should’ve put the fire out before we left?”

They both share a hearty chuckle over that. “Would be a shame if it all burned down!” Bill sighs as the laughter dies down. “Nah, but seriously. California will still be there for us to play with tomorrow. And if it isn’t, we can always just rebuild it! In my image! Ha!”

“Yeah. Technically the fires are my image though.”

“Touché!”

They talk for a while, maybe 20 minutes or so in this fashion, casually sipping time punch and discussing unnatural disasters like they’re music festivals. Ford goes completely untouched and unnoticed, until suddenly Bill returns his attention to the human, and a light bulb goes off next to his hat.

“Wait. Do you wanna see something hysterical? I have the best idea.”

Every sensation returns to Ford at once in a flood of color, touch and sound. Sometimes, when Bill is feeling merciful, he eases him back into it, but his merciful moods are few and far between. More commonly, he likes to toss the scientist in the deep end and watch him flounder, tears quickly beading at the corners of Ford’s eyes and spilling fatly over his cheeks. His body convulses in a singular, broken sob, and before he can finish another apologetic, “I love you,” Bill hits him with a hard command.

“Stanford! I need a footstool!” The demon extends his legs and wiggles his feet a little. He whistles as though beckoning a dog. “Come ‘ere!”

Despite his disorientation, Ford rushes to obey, lurching in the direction of Bill’s voice and falling flat on his face. Shakenly, he picks himself off the ground, letting loose a singular groan.

“I’m still waiting!” Bill sings, swinging his legs a little for effect. Pyronica snickers. Ford tries again, following the sound of his muse’s voice, although he is quickly dismayed to find that he’s already reached the end of his chain. He falls just short of Bill’s feet, and no matter how he chokes himself, no matter how hard he tugs at the collar or the chain attached, he can’t go any further than this. His distress is evident in the way he keens.

“What are you doing?” Bill demands, rolling his eye. “All I asked for was a simple footstool and you can’t even do that? Bad! Bad dog!” Ford sobs.

“I-I’m sorry, my muse!” he rasps, the cold metal of the collar pressing in on his windpipe as he strains to obey. “I’m so sorry!”

Pyronica is practically in stitches at this point, and Bill is a showman, a class clown ever chasing the next laugh. “Are you really though?” His eye wanes to an amused crescent. “Do you even love me, if you can’t even follow a command as simple as this?”

“Yes!” Ford insists with a cry. “Yes, my muse, I love you! I’m sorry that I’m so useless… Please, please forgive me…”

“Why should I? Do you think you deserve forgiveness?”

“N- No,” Ford sniffs, “but—”

“Alright, alright. Since I’m in such a good mood, I’ll give you a hand.” Bill waves his hand in a circle and the chain elongates, allowing just enough slack for Ford to crawl under his waiting feet. Bill settles them heavily on top of Ford’s back and sighs. “Ahh, that’s better.” The man shakes under the weight.

“Thank you, my muse,” he says. Normally, he would be a lot happier about serving Bill like this, but he’s clearly still torn up over his recent punishment and failures. “Thank you so much.”

“Don’t mention it, kid!” Bill rests his hands behind his ‘head,’ or rather, the tip of his topmost vertex. “Maybe after this, if you’re good, you can have a treat.”

“R- Really? Oh, thank you so much, my muse. I promise I’ll be good.” His voice is still wavery from the earlier-shed tears, but his cheer seems to be returning. It’s not difficult to keep the man happy when he’s so thoroughly and hopelessly smitten with his muse. Bill could have Pyronica drop-kick Ford off the top of the Fearamid right now and when he reached the bottom he would find a way to smile and thank Bill, no matter how many broken pieces he was in.

“Yeah. Now shut up while I get some reading in. Hasn’t anyone ever told you footstools don’t talk? Sheesh.” With a sigh, Bill summons an extradimensional magazine and floats it in front of his eye, every so often flipping through the pages. Pyronica says she’s off to see what Teeth and Keyhole are up to, and Bill acknowledges her departure with a little grunt and wave. Ford stifles a whimper. His back has already been giving him issues lately, and this definitely isn’t helping matters, but he soldiers through it for his muse. He’s determined not to mess up again. He’s determined to be a good footstool.

A/N: This is my first time writing from Bill’s perspective! I don’t usually write him this cruel, so it was a fun change of pace to lean full force into that side of him. Thanks again, jellyskink, I hope you liked this little installment!

#Domesticated Ford AU #gravity falls #gravity falls au #bill cipher #ford pines #stanford pines #fanfic #fanfiction #archive of our own #ao3 #tw abuse #toxic relationship #stockholm syndrome #image description in alt #cross posted on ao3 #matcha-milkies ♡♡

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aidenwaites · 1 year ago

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Proposing an addendum to Ceremony called Divorce where for the next 7 days two adult humanoids who have chosen to forfeit their marriage each gain a +2 to AC so long as they are NOT within 30 feet of each other

I've never actually gotten to use it in-game but the best d&d ritual spell is still Ceremony

#alternatively they gain a -2 to AC when within 30 feet #rbed this on the wrong blog the first time whoops

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radioapplerevue · 2 months ago

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Radioapple Fic Recs #2

I'm finally getting around to updating my fic recs, and I decided that it would get a bit too unwieldy to just keep adding on to the original post. So, from now on I'll be putting them into different parts and then linking them in an archive post, which I will pin on my blog. For now, my first post of recs can be found here.

There are also a bunch of unfinished fics that I have been keeping an eye on that I haven't read yet because they are fairly early on and their tags say something along the lines of "it gets worse before it gets better" haha. There are enough fics grinding my heart into dust at the moment, but just know that I am seeing those chapter counts go up. I'm Watching You.

Now, onto the recs!

Home Stretch by @tarmairons (mature)

Welcome to the most convoluted game of 20 questions I've ever seen. I love the slow, purposeful approach to showing how Lucifer and Alastor's relationship is shifting and merging to not only accommodate each other, but also tie them closer together. This is an entire fic of them attempting to communicate and really, honestly trying even if neither of them are sure of what the hell they're doing. And, of course, I love when fics really take the time to explore how Alastor's asexuality (and lack of experience with intimacy in general) would affect his approach and behavior when it comes to sex with Lucifer -- and also how Lucifer learns to handle Alastor in a way that meets his needs, even if the things Alastor needs are not what Lucifer's used to.

2. To Be The Perfect Angel, Some Sin Must Be Done by @hismercytomyjustice (ratings vary by part)

This is a series I've really super been enjoying, largely because it's just fun. Don't get me wrong, the explicit parts are hot too, but it's fucking funny and there's just such an enjoyable push and pull dynamic between Alastor and Lucifer here, where each give as good as they get and actually end up... maybe.... enjoying it? Whoops? And oh shit here comes feelings, where did those come from. And as always, I enjoy seeing how Alastor's asexuality is handled here, with his discomfort with making decisions or taking the lead in bed causing them to develop a dynamic where Lucifer makes all the calls, and Alastor makes the terrifying choice to trust him with his own body, pleasure, and safety. Plus, excellent use of the shadow here. Having the shadow play a significant role in a fic is always one of my favorite things, and I am also very here for shadow fucking at all times.

3. somewhere down the line by kj_crwn (explicit)

This is one of the "Alastor and Lucifer meet in the living world first" fics. I love Lucifer basically just coming up to the living world to be the biggest nuisance to Alastor he could possibly be, but whoops, I guess Alastor's into that. There's a lot of murder, a lot of two assholes trying to drive each other nuts (and succeeding), a lot of sexual tension, and a lot of said assholes being really, really bad at feelings. I particularly enjoy what happens from the time of Alastor's death up to the conclusion of the fic, and the way they have to come to grips with what their relationship is now, what it could be, and what they want it to be.

4. T is for Tax Evasion by @radiaurapple (teen and up)

This is a brand new fic, but my goodness I loved it immediately. I loved the take on Heaven's fucked up bureaucracy, I loved Lucifer's panic, guilt and weariness, and I love how God is a fucking dick. It's such an interesting concept that is explored through Lucifer's slowly crumbling psyche as the knowledge he's going to lose Alastor becomes more and more certain. Or is it? There are few things I love more than pre-emptive grief and utter desperation, and the emotional payoff is just so good. I would have loved to have seen more of the fallout, but regardless, this is one that I'll definitely be thinking about for a while.

5. I Will Dance Divine by @rahabs (mature)

This fic caught my attention immediately. A large part of is exploring Alastor and Lucifer's relationship through dance, and the first chapter is immediately gripping. There's such an immediate magnetism to them, as well as the clash between the performance they are putting on and the quiet battle they are having with each other. It made me so look forward to seeing where it goes. So far it seems to be a slow, but very thorough burn, with the fic taking its time to really let them come together naturally, and learn about each other in tantalizing pieces. I dearly hope it is continued as I want to see more, but what there is already is also a wonderful read.

6. Muzzle for My Lover by sabbathgoat (explicit)

This is a smutty one-shot, but it has one of my favorite depictions of a sexual dynamic between Alastor and Lucifer in anything. There's such a deep undercurrent of trust here, a trust that has been hard-earned over years. Lucifer's handling of Alastor, knowledge of his fluctuating boundaries and internal battles when it comes to his own body and desires, combined with his intense love and tenderness towards him just bleeds through the entire fic. I would happily read a several chapter story with them just lying there cuddling and doing nothing else if it was written with this same weight. It's one of those cases where you don't need to be told how in love they are, because it's impossible to not feel it.

7. Stolen Moments by @mothballmilkshake (ratings vary by part)

This series is quite the rollercoaster! Alastor and Lucifer's relationship in it hits some great highs and also some serious lows, because they are both so so bad at this oh my god. I like that it's from Alastor's POV, because I feel like we don't get that very often, particularly in the longer fics. And I also like that it just shows us what an absolute fucking disaster he is, haha. The continuing plot line regarding Alastor's deal is interesting and groundwork is being laid for some serious shit to go down later on. We'll have to see if Lucifer and Alastor's foundation has been built strong enough by then to not crumble under the pressure. But hey, after all they've gone through, I believe in them (.....mostly).

8. Hope Against Hope by OrlesianHat (explicit)

I don't tend to be into non-canon AUs, but I found I enjoyed this one quite a lot. Lucifer is being sent on a blind date, and the person he meets isn't exactly what he expected... or is he? There's no murder involved so automatically the fic is much gentler than canon would be, particularly with Alastor, but a while after reading it I had to go digging to find it again because something about it stuck with me. I love Alastor's unrepentant selfishness, and Lucifer's long-suffering mood of 'these are things I really should not be okay with but apparently I'm okay with them because I'm still here'. If you're looking for something a little softer after all the angsty cliffhangers we get in other fics (the angsty cliffhanger in this one has been resolved, thank you), then this might be for you.

#radioapple #fic recs

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lawyeryuri · 1 year ago

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he has never made a correct deduction in his life. hes a single father. he cant pay rent. he invented the hologram. he works part time as a wax figure. he is THE dumbest bitch alive. hes a crime solving mastermind. he slept with his roommate's father (implied). he ate soap. i didn't say a name but he popped into your head didn't he?

[ID: a sketch page of herlock sholmes from the great ace attorney. in the first, he lies seductively with a rose in his mouth and a silly simple expression. the next shows him doing the caramelldansen dance. then, there is a small drawing of herlock holding baby iris, captioned 'Sherlock Holmes and doctor watson". the largest drawing is herlock' s depressed sprite. the last drawing is is a cartoony drawing of sholmes with his googles down. /End ID.]

whoops! wrong blog, check out my art blog @cre-a-tions

#my art #oopsie saved this to the wrong blog LOL #pepper's pthoughts #has id #sherlock holmes #herlock sholmes #tgaa #dgs #dgs fanart #tgaa fanart

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mdhwrites · 3 months ago

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"In the first episode, Luz brings wild animals and fireworks to school without permission or without any regard to safety."

Isn't that just a case of Early-Installment Weirdness?

Boy there are so many problems with accusing this of that. See, Early-Installment Weirdness IS a thing. In TOH, one of the best examples of that is how in the same episode that Amity goes "I've never seen a spell like that cast before" you also have the power glyph. A famous one from another cartoon is how Andrea of Molly McGee starts as an EXTREME bitch but quickly shifts to more so being unaware and selfish, rather than actively malicious. Hell, I know one of my own series has it where I have a transmuter in the first chapter change pancakes into a pot of flowers which I made WAY too casual for the amount of energy shifting to something living should take.

A common thread between all of these though are that they don't show back up. Andrea's characterization becomes consistent AFTER the shift to it and she never goes back to being as bad as she was in her first appearance. The power glyph is never mentioned again, MAYBE visually it's seen like once on the coven head but glyph magic is just Luz's. And yeah, my own story sticks to its power costs better afterwards. That is the biggest sign of Early-Installment Weirdness because in the long run you can see that these elements were dropped because they were incongruent with the actual goals of the show.

But do you know what does keep appearing? This characterization of Luz. S1 is filled with times when Luz will disregard other people's feelings, fuck something up because of it and then have to make amends. Episode fucking two reinforces the idea that she treats the world as fantasy. Yesterday's Lie actually HINGES on the idea that Luz is actually selfish and uncaring of those around her because she could not appreciate what she had and that she had to be special. This is what Vee calls her out on. It's also why, in the blog you're referencing with this, I bring up how in S3 she has a dilemma where a decision that she made on her own blew up in her face. In response to that, instead of thinking ANYONE else should comment on it, she makes a drastic, big deal decision... That also gets her out scott free from all consequences which is exactly what she did when she ran to the Isles. I'm not even exaggerating. In episode 1, Luz decides to stick to the Isles because otherwise she has to go to a camp she doesn't want to where she'll actually have to put in the effort to improve as a person and respect reality so she sticks to her fantasy world. In S3 Episode 1, she decides to abandon AN ENTIRE WORLD to their fate, that she believes is her fault, so that she can stay at home and live with her caring mother and new sister while she will also send her friends to ostensibly their deaths because of how big of a deal this is. And like in that blog, S3 E2 only reinforces the idea that Luz only cares about what is important to Luz when her goal on the Isles is not beating the Collector, she says that to everyone who doesn't know the truth, but instead to find Eda and King, make sure they're safe, and leave. She tells that to her mom, the only person who knows already she doesn't give a fuck about this place.

That's also without bringing up btw the signs that reference her early montage that appear in S3 E1, meaning the show wants you to remember it, especially when Luz sighs at the sign. It is NOT an element that is just one and done and a whoops on the writer's part. It is the first action in a long, LONG line of selfish, unthinking, uncaring actions for our 'protagonist'.

Our protagonist who is told that she has never, ever, done anything wrong. That's abhorrent. See you next tale.

======+++++======

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

#the owl house criticism #toh critical #toh #the owl house #luz noceda

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minecraftluver · 6 months ago

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It's so sweet and it made me cry😭

youtube

Pretend I posted this on fathers day dfsdjkf BUT IT IS FINALLY DONE :D I wanted to finish/make this for forever, Empires may be dead but my love for Hermes isn't ❤

#i tried ten logging this and sent it to the wrong blog first time WHOOPS #you didn’t see that #anyways #AUUAUUUAAAAGAGGGGAAAAHAHHHHHAHA #AWWWWWJWHWAAAJAKAKSAKAA #the only hermes animatic ever #I MISS HERMES #HERMES MY BOYY #OUURGRGRHRHRHRHRH #i’m gonna find you and shoot tears out of my eyes SO HARD #YOU WILL GET SOAKED #AAAUAUWGAGAHAJAJAHABS #AQWJWJWJEJRKRKE #gasp gasp

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sordidmusings · 2 months ago

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Welcome🤍

Thank you for stopping by my blog! I hope you enjoy the clown show lol right now I'm keeping this chatty section real sparse to get this out but hoping to make it (and this whole list) more robust and comprehensive with time! One of the first things on the list is to have fic summaries instead of just titles and better formatting for multiple parts. At least this works atm haha For now, just know this is both a sfw and nsfw blog and nsfw will be tagged with #thirst hours

I hope the reading guides you on good daydreams and fantasies 💜

Daily click for Palestine

NSFW ☄️

Fluff 🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑 Angst (how much easy vs. harsh emotion)

AU 🪐

Non-canon elements in focus ✨

Tender Love and Care

Hair Care 🌖 Massage 🌖 Part 1 Part 2 and Part 3 - Coming Soon

Switching Up Roles 🌕☄️ Part 1 and Part 2

Loose Lips

Thirsty Thursdays ☄️

With Pissed Off Buggy With Lucky Brat Buggy With Insecure Buggy

Comforting His Partner on Their Looks 🌕

Age Gap Headcanons 🌕

Punk Buggy with a Tongue Piercing☄️ - Riff off of @hey-august's wonderful Punk Buggy

Let Go and Grip Me Tighter 🌖☄️

Fixing What Ifs 🌗

Well Earned Praise 🌕

How He Deals with Falling in Love 🌕

Jealousy Ficlet 🌕

Hickey Headcanons 🌕

Thirsty Thursday

The Hat Stays ON

Fireside 🌖 - coming soon

Bonding Exercises ☄️ - coming soon

Jealousy Ficlet 🌕

How to Break Rules 🌖

Jealousy Ficlet 🌕

Hickey Headcanons 🌕

Give (In) and Take (Me) ☄️

The Wrong Rest 🌑

Across the Great Divide 🌘 - Coming Soon

These Hoes Depressed 🌖 - Coming Soon

Brushing Souls 🌕✨

You've warned him just as much as the others how intimate and overwhelming it feels to touch another soul. Still, he's intrigued. Over time you've come to trust him enough to give him a taste of the soul magic of your home and he immediately accepts, equal parts eager and nervous. Nothing you said prepared him for all he feels at simply being surrounded by You. ~3.8k

Coronary Tale 🌗✨

Face Sitting ☄️

Hickey Headcanons 🌖

Eventually this will mean poly BUT for now it is where headcanons with LOTS of characters are until I have more fics under more characters (so Its not just a fuckload of headers all with the same fic under them lol)

Cuddling Headcanons 🌕 Straw Hats and the Three Unwise Men (Buggy, Shanks, Mihawk)

Cuddling Ficlets 🌕 Straw Hats and the Three Unwise Men

X Marine Reader Headcanons - Coming Soon

Straw Hats and the Three Unwise Men

Bonus Characters (Ace, Sabo, Law, Kid, Killer, Sir Croc, Doffy)

Sweetly Scented Secrets 🌕✨

These are ones I add to and build off of instead of it being just something for a one-shot. Currently a placeholder but wanna get posting for these soon! Gotta organize the massive thought dumps I have down first lol

Modern AU (Coney Island inspired)

Hybrid AU

ABO AU

On Their Feet - current priorities (Most have coming soon and up on Masterlist to kick my ass into gear atm lol)

Lifeline - in brain and touching on

Purgatory - letting them happen when they happen

Hell - uncertain if they will ever happen 💀

Random ass shit that doesn't have a spot yet wHOOPS

Now and For Always - One Piece Rendition

Andddd a reminder to myself to possibly link sketches eventually andjkjaskda

Enjoy the hot mess in progress LOL

#masterlist #one piece #one piece fanfiction #one piece headcanons #my writing #reader insert

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arrowhawkart · 4 months ago

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Alright what's up everyone! If you do not follow my personal blog fair warning: I have become very suddenly obsessed with Dragon Age and have been playing thru the games for the first time ever- so expect the next chunk of art from me to be very Dragon Age-centric

So Anyways here's Atlas Hawke, the fun little guy I made for my DA2 playthrough and became incredibly attached to much faster than I expected.

More incoherent rambles and thoughts on my Hawke under the cut- it's very stream of consciousness under there and also very very long you've been warned

[ID in Alt Text]

Just like.... wow.... okay so I've now played through Inquisition and finished Trespasser and I've gotta say DA2 really took the cake for me, like by far my favorite of the 3. (Like please don't get me wrong it absolutely had it's issues I'm not saying it was a perfect game or that all the writing choices were amazing) But I just really enjoyed the smaller more personal scale of the conflicts in DA2, I liked that Hawke was even more Just Some Guy, and like yeah the Warden and the Inquisitor aren't like special chosen ones or anything, but they are both tasked with these gigantic world-saving country-spanning quests, and Hawke? Hawke is just a guy trying to do right by his family. Like he doesn't have any world saving mission. He is just trying to Get By and that really made this game hit home more for me than the other two.

I said I was gonna ramble about my Hawke and I just ended up rambling about DA2 itself... whoops. ANYWAYS- Atlas- My Boy Atlas- I recognize that a purple mage Hawke is the most common route people go and I am by no means unique or original, but this game series is very new to me, personally, and I'm having fun anyways. (From here on out I will be talking about my Custom Hawke and not like, Hawke the player character in general)

And gosh I'm such a sucker for complicated and messy family dynamics, and DA2 does that so well. Like the Hawke family is Fucked Up. Bethany gets killed by that ogre while they're fleeing Lothering when she tries to save their mom from said ogre, and Leandra immediately turns and blames Atlas for Bethany's death- and then later in Act 1, Carver, best baby brother Carver, also throws Bethany's death in his face while they're having their own stupid argument which started because Atlas was trying to cheer Carver up and boy did that fail dramatically.

Like Atlas is witty and charming and sarcastic and kind of an asshole sometimes, and comes of as incredibly over confident and cocksure and that's because he's very much been shoved into the role of 'okay you've gotta take care of everything and if you don't everything bad is Your Fault, and since you're in charge of taking care of everything, everything bad is automatically Your Fault No Matter What Anyways.' So he's gotta playact like he has everything all together and under control, because what the fuck is his family gonna do if he doesn't? And underneath all of that he's an incredibly stressed out guy, who does not feel like he can ever let on that he's stressed and making everything up as he goes and just hoping that things work out well.

And like he tries to do the right thing- by god does this man try. He brings Carver with him on the deep roads mission because he and Carver work well together! Carver wants to go! He loves his little brother, there is no one he would rather have by his side than his little brother! There is no one he trusts more than Carver to have his back! Carver and Atlas are incredibly close. Like Carver is the one person who actually recognizes that the way Leandra projects all of her own issues onto them, but like mostly Atlas, is really shitty! He acknowledges that after apologizing for his part in the argument I mentioned above. And then of course Carver ends up getting the Blight during the deep roads mission, because nothing can every go right for them. Thankfully Atlas brought Anders along, so Carver is able to become a Grey Warden instead of DYING, but he has to leave, and Atlas doesn't even find out whether or not Carver survived his joining for months. And of course Leandra blames Atlas for this, she begged him not to bring Carver along with him, and he did anyways and now she's never going to see her youngest son again and it's all Atlas's fault. And that's how Act 1 ends and I just.... Auaghghghghhhh-

And then we've got Act 2, and like mid-way through Act 2 is probably the high point for Atlas. Things peak for him here and then it's all one big snowball downhill from there. So like, Atlas romanced Fenris, because this man is addicted to difficulty, and of course was going to immediately be infatuated with the guy that makes hating mages half his personality. (I mean it wasn't immediate, it was more of a slow build, mutual-trust, to friendship, to lovers thing, especially considering three years pass between Acts 1 and 2) And yeah, Atlas doesn't hide the fact that he's very into Fenris, and Fenris definitely hasn't seemed opposed to this. So after Fenris kills Hadriana and then they get together for one night- Atlas is like, riding the high of what was probably the first positive physical affection he's gotten since Carver let for the Grey Wardens three years ago. And then of course the following morning Fenris immediately breaks things off with Atlas, so what Atlas thought was going to be the start to a romantic relationship, just ends up being an ill-fated one night stand. And like! Atlas does not begrudge Fenris this! He completely understands Fenris's reasons, he is not upset with Fenris at all! He is still just completely crushed though. So yeah, things peaked for Atlas for like one very short night and then start speeding downhill. Because not long after that is when his mom is killed by a fucking serial killer. As if things weren't already fucked enough for Atlas, already having lost his twin younger siblings.

Also side note- I love the fact that DA2 is portrayed as Varric telling the story of Hawke's life to Cassandra, and that we know Varric is an unreliable narrator. Because like Leandra's last words to Hawke being that she's so proud of her strong boy- at least with how Atlas's relationship was with Leandra up to this point- felt so so out of character for Leandra, and I love the headcanon that that's Varric giving his bestie some closure narratively that he never actually got in reality. So like that's canon for Atlas. Because that was Leandra's decapitated head frankensteined onto another woman's body- and magicked into a reanimated corpse that absolutely did not seem like it had any conscious thought- like she was already dead before Atlas showed up. There were no final words. There was no nice narratively satisfying ending to that one. And I like it better that way tbh........

We're just gonna like skip over the whole qunari invasion subplot because I am. Not a fan of how that was handled. Writing wise. Like what the fuck was that. Like I have THOUGHTS about it but they're not gonna go on tumblr. Anyways. Moving on.

Champion of Kirkwall! Yay! Meredith knows he's an apostate mage and is just Waiting for any half-decent excuse to either bring him to the circle, make him tranquil, or kill him? Not yay! Atlas is absolutely good friends with Anders, and has been helping with the mage underground every chance he has. People in the city have been whispering about making him of all people Viscount and he has no idea how to feel about that, like he'd rather not, but who else is gonna do it? And who else would do it and actually give a shit about mages and elves and just like lower class people in general? Like this incredibly stressed out guy does not need more added to his plate, he really doesn't. But he's definitely thinking about it. I mean hey! It's not like he's got any family around to take care of at this point right? Why not just take that eldest daughter syndrome thing he's got going on and use it to fix the city?

The one bright spot for him here is that hey, at least he and Fenris get back together. That one's nice. They both deserve something positive and comforting after all the shit they've been through.

And then Meredith is trying to invoke the right of annulment and Anders blows up the fucking Chantry. And Atlas can't even blame him for it. After 6 or 7 years of painstakingly working to try to find peaceful ways to improve the lives of mages and getting blocked at every turn, with the knowledge that Meredith has been getting worse and worse and worse, and has been actively looking for any excuse to invoke the right of annulment and just kill every single mage in Kirkwall? And Grand Cleric Elthina has been absolutely no help, and has absolutely been subtly on Meredith's side the entire time. Like at a certain point, violence really does feel like the only option left. When you've been backed this far into a corner.

So obviously Atlas takes the side of the mages, doesn't kill Anders, is honestly like 'my dude, my buddy, my guy, my best pal(aside from Varric, and my boyfriend Fenris) why didn't you tell me? I would've helped you on purpose.' He's elated when Carver shows up during that final push to the Gallows, like the whole situation is absolutely shit, and it'd definitely be better if his beloved brother was no where near danger, but he's a Grey Warden now so that's not even an option anyways. So it's just nice to have him around even during such an intensely stressful moment. Honestly everything is so unbelievably fucked at this point that Atlas isn't even stressed anymore. Like things literally cannot get worse. He's kind of riding the high of things not being able to get worse. Or maybe that's just adrenaline. Who knows. Aveline and Sebastian both leave, Atlas is unbothered. Doesn't even try to convince Aveline to side with him later either, like he's never really gotten along with her, and he did not like how she treated Carver. Fenris and everyone else stick around, and that's what matters to Atlas, like all the people he was actually close friends with stick with him in this moment (Fenris, Varric, Isabella, Merrill, Anders, & Carver)

And then yeah, they save the mages, defeat Meredith, leave Kirkwall with the renegade mages. Everyone goes their separate ways due to one reason or another, except Fenris. At least Atlas does get to keep one positive close relationship around.

#artists on tumblr #dragon age #dragon age 2 #custom hawke #mage hawke #purple hawke #purple mage hawke #mage sympathizer #da2 #my ocs #my pcs #also like fair warning #underneath the readmore is so very long #and likely completely incomprehensible if you do not have background knowledge of the game and dragon age lore #oc: atlas hawke #Atlas Hawke

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buckychristwrites · 1 year ago

Text

Could This Be | Chap. Eight | j.t.

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x F!Reader

Summary: One minute, you're single and working for AFC Richmond as the team's medic. The next minute, you're in a fake relationship with the team's handsome striker who you know next to nothing about.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: Discussions of Previous Emotional & Physical Domestic Violence. Cussing. Fake Dating

A/N: This chapter was brought to you by Only Love Can Hurt Like This by Paloma Faith & Fine Line by Harry Styles. Take that as you will! :)

Masterlist | Could This Be Masterlist | Main Blog

“Are you avoidin’ me?”

You screamed, the voice from behind startling you so much that you dropped the jump bag you had been trying to load into your car. When you turned, you found Jamie, who’s face let you know that he didn’t mean to scare you, though that didn’t stop him from finding it incredibly amusing.

“Can you please stop doing that?” You said through uneven breaths. He shook his head as he took a step forward to pick up the bag you had just dropped.

“Sorry.” Though, he didn’t sound very apologetic.

As he set the bag in the backseat of your car, you kept your eyes trained on the ground. Because the answer was yes, you absolutely had been avoiding him. Ever since the night of the premiere, you had been making yourself scarce around the club as much as possible. It had been pure luck that all injuries had remained at the bare minimum, but you also had been doing your charting away from the med room as well as away from the pitch. This was, truly, the first time you had spoken to Jamie in days.

“Are you not comin’ to the match?” He asked, glancing over at his teammates, who were all piling into the coach while laughing and hyping each other up. It took you a second to register what he meant.

“Of course I am,” You told him, finally looking up. “I always take my own car.” He glanced at the car, then over at the coach again before looking back at you.

“Why?”

You shrugged. “I like the quiet. Helps me get my mind ready.”

He seemed to consider this before suddenly he was taking off towards the bus. You watched him pop his head in through the door. Though you couldn’t hear what he was saying, you could hear the team cheering and whooping very loudly before he came running back towards you. His smile was shit eating.

“Guess I’m ridin’ with ya.”

A weird mix of anxiety and amusement rose in your chest.

“I don’t recall inviting you to ride with me.” His eyes rolled upwards.

“I don’t recall carin’.”

Before you could come up with a proper response, he was climbing into the passenger seat of your car. The door slammed and your mouth fell open. The audacity of Jamie was loud as he looked out at you, still grinning. The team made no effort to hide that they were watching you and him. You gave them a quick wave before turning your back on them, a heavy sigh tumbling out.

This was the worst case scenario for you. You had wanted this time to yourself, but not to prepare for the game.

Slipping into the driver’s seat, you slid the belt over your torso and turned the car on. Jamie kicked his feet onto the dashboard in clear triumph. If it had been anyone else, this would’ve annoyed you to no end. But, unfortunately, it was Jamie, so you let it go.

As you pulled out of the car park, following behind the coach with the rest of the team, your heart was beating a hundred kilometres a minute. The quiet music from the radio was not enough to distract you from the huge elephant sitting between the two of you, taking up all the air and making it hard to breathe.

“So,” Jamie said, bringing his feet back to the floor while sitting upright. The sound of his voice caused a sharp pain to ripple through your chest. “Askin’ again. Are you-”

“I need to talk to you,” You blurted out without an ounce of thought behind it. He stared at you for a moment before nodding. As he turned his body so you had his full attention, you felt like you were going to throw up.

“What’s wrong?” It’s like you were a book written in a language only he could understand. Peaking over at him, his face was filled with concern. Your brain was rejecting the words you wanted to say next, causing you to fight for your life to get them out of your mouth.

“I think…” You said slowly, taking a deep breath. Deciding to start over, you glanced at him again. “I think that, after Beard’s wedding…” Your eyes forced themselves back on the road in resignation. “... that we should stop this.”

The words were in the air, and there was nothing you could do to put them back in your head, as much as you wanted to. The silence that filled the car was deafening. Though you weren’t looking at him, the chill that shot up your spine let you know that he turned away from you.

“Oh, yeah. That makes sense,” Was all he said after a lifetime of not saying a word. When you allowed yourself to look at him, you found his eyes were cast downwards, his eyebrows tightly furrowed together. Carefully folding his hands in his lap, he looked up, but only to stare out of the windscreen. The tension in his jaw was remarkably obvious.

“Jamie…”

“Did say about a month, we did,” He said as if you hadn’t spoken, nodding stiffly.

“I didn’t want to do this right now,” You told him, knuckles tight against the steering wheel. “I’m sorry.”

“Ya didn’t want to do this just before the match against Tottenham?” He snapped, his eyes on you once again. Beyond the anger they exhibited, you could see the hurt, too. “Then why did ya?”

“I wasn’t planning on it. You got in my car!” You exclaimed, the tears starting to well in your eyes but you blinked them away.

“Because I wanted to hang out with ya!” He shouted back. “I fuckin’... I fuckin’ missed ya.” He shook his head angrily. “We fuck one time and now I’m fuckin’ nothin’ to you?”

You huffed, frustrated. The fact that he could say something like that to you, about what you and him had shared together, was devastating in more ways than you could ever understand. “Of course not, Jamie…” He ran both of his hands over his head, his fingers tearing through his hair. You wanted to rewind time, to start this whole conversation over. Why did your chest hurt so badly? Why did it feel like a real breakup?

Because to you, it was. Your feelings for Jamie had gotten too intense. He was the only thing you thought about before you went to sleep at night, and the first thing you thought of when you woke up in the morning. After the night of the premiere, he had left your house that morning, leaving you with a kiss to the side of your head as you pretended to still be asleep. You had spent the rest of that morning crying nonstop, the realisation that this was no longer fake for you being too much to bear.

The fact of the matter was, either way, you were losing. If Jamie didn’t feel the same, then it made sense to you, because why would he? But if he did, then it was only a matter of time that he would see you for what you really are: A broken girl, with more baggage than an entire airline hanger, who didn’t know how to allow someone to love her without the fear consuming her.

“It don’t matter,” He said, his voice strangely distant. You looked over at him. “This ain’t real, right? It was always meant to end.”

Each word felt like a knife.

The rest of the drive went by without another word. By the time you pulled into Tottenham Spur’s Stadium, you were a thread away from a total breakdown. As soon as you put the car in park, Jamie was out and storming down the car park, meeting back up with the team. You held back to give yourself a moment to breathe. The tears spilled over as you set your forehead against the steering wheel.

“You’re fine,” You whispered in a pathetic attempt to stop the crying. “It’s all going to be fine. This is how it was always going to happen.”

Taking a deep breath and wiping off your face, you climbed out of the car, grabbing your jump bag and making your way to the player entrance. Most of the team had already gone inside, but Coach Beard was leaning against the coach, yelling into his phone, assumedly to his bride-to-be. As you let yourself inside, you tried to internalise that. Maybe that’s what all love is: yelling, and pain, and hurting each other over and over and over again. It was all you had ever known from past experiences. Why allow yourself to feel all that again? This was all for the best. It had to be.

The cheering and yelling from the changing room echoed down the hallway as you walked by, but you decided to skip the pre-game rituals this time. Instead, you made your way to the stadium med room, which was thankfully empty, and sifted through the materials to make it look like you were stocking. You just wanted to pass the time so the game would start sooner, meaning it would end sooner, and then you could go home.

The staging area for the medics on the pitch was a small box area, as it was just you and the paramedic for the other team. The Team Doctor was somewhere in the stadium, as well as physiotherapists, but you were the first in the line of care when it came down to injuries. Placing your jump bag on the grass, you sat cross legged and waited patiently. That’s all it was at this point. A lot of waiting.

As you bided your time until the players made their entrance, you thought about Jamie, and you thought about his pain. The last thing you had ever wanted was to hurt him. Maybe he had grown used to the routine of pretending to date you as much as you had with him. If only you were capable of separating your feelings from the whole thing like he could.

Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of the story.

You repeated the quote over and over in your head. It had to be you. For the sake of yourself, it had to be you.

Because you knew you wouldn’t be able to handle it if you allowed this to go on, and then it would inevitably be him.

The crowd went crazy when the players began to file out of the tunnel, each team in its own single file line. Though you applauded along with them, your eyes were trained on the bright green grass.

A tap on your shoulder made you jump. When you turned, the Tottenham medic was holding his phone out to you.

“S’this you?”

Hesitantly, you took a look. Twitter was open, and when you took the phone from him, you were looking at a picture of Jamie and yourself. Neither of you were looking at the camera, instead your eyes were fixed on each other, both of you smiling. The look in Jamie’s eyes was the type of look that a woman would die to have thrown their way. You wondered how it was so easy for him to look at you like that. To convince everyone else it was real for him.

“It is,” You said weakly, handing him back the phone.

“Thought so.” He shoved the phone back into his pocket. “What’s it like, dating The Jamie Tartt?”

You watched him from across the field. He was staring straight in front of him, his hands behind his back. The tension was so severe that he looked like someone pointed a remote at him and hit the pause button. You found yourself wishing that he was closer, that you could hold his hand and apologise. For the harm you caused. For breaking the rule of not falling for him. For allowing this to happen at all. For everything.

“It’s definitely something else.”

The conversation stopped there with the start of the game, thankfully. Getting the best seat in the house for the matches would be a lot better in any other moment, but right now, the only place you wanted to be was anywhere else.

The longer the game went on, the harder it was to focus. Jamie was playing incredibly well, clearly fueled by the argument prior. He was being more selfish with the ball than he had been in a while, and scored two goals within the first fifteen minutes of the match starting. Despite being sat right on the edge of the field, he never once looked in your direction.

“Seems we’re getting some of the old Jamie Tartt today,” The Tottenham medic remarked. If you were a ruder person, you would’ve told him exactly where he could stick his commentary, but you weren’t a ruder person, so you kept your comments to yourself. Instead, you internally hoped that he wouldn’t talk to you like this the entire match.

“Maybe with Lasso gone, he remembered his old ways,” He continued. Your eyes rolled upwards to the sky.

This day really couldn’t possibly get any worse.

The ball was soaring through the air, clearing the heads of numerous players who attempted to reach it. Jamie jumped up to bounce it off his head. It felt like time was going in slow motion. The ball hit Jamie’s head at the same time as a Tottenham player, who clearly didn’t see him coming, jumped to kick it, and instead kicked him, hard, in the back of the head.

As Jamie collapsed to the ground, you rose to your feet.

“He’ll get up,” You said out loud, mostly to yourself. Sam, Isaac, and Dani raced to Jamie’s side as you waited with a pounding heart. They all stared down at him, Sam kneeling down and placing his hands on either shoulder.. You tried to stay optimistic. He would get up, and you wouldn’t be needed. It would be okay. It would be-

Sam turned to look at you, eyes wide in horror.

Grabbing the jump bag, you took off down the field as fast as your unathletic legs would take you. The rest of the team started to gather around as you pushed your way through. Jamie was completely unconscious when you dropped to your knees next to him.

“Jamie?” You shouted, putting your hands to his face and giving him a slight shake. He didn’t say anything, his eyes still shut and slightly fluttering. With one hand to his carotid artery, you put the knuckles of your other to his sternum and dug deep into his chest before running them up and down his skin. No response. His pulse was rapid. It was then that you realised he wasn’t breathing.

Fuck.

“I need a gurney right now!” You shouted at no one in particular as you grabbed a BVM mask from the bag and attached it to the oxygen tank. In the back of your head, you thought of the head injury he’d just had not that long ago. The one you had released him back to training from. Your mind was being completely irrational as it spiralled downward. Was he not ready? Should you have given him more time to heal? He had seemed fine, showing no symptoms of concussion or any major brain injury. Was this your fault? How could you have stopped this?

Throwing the blood pressure cuff on him and hitting start, you threw your hair out of your face.

“Can I get another fucking set of hands here?” You shouted, furious by the lack of help from the Tottenham medic.

“What do you need me to do?” Sam asked with a shaky voice. A hard sigh forced its way out of your mouth. It wasn’t exactly what you had meant, but it was all you had. You thrusted the BVM bag at him.

“Put this over his mouth like this,” You instructed, guiding his hands so his thumb and index fingers were around the mask and the rest were on Jamie’s jawline. Teaching him was the only distraction you had. The only thing keeping you level headed. “Push these fingers upwards so that his jaw stays open.” You looked up. “Isaac!” Your voice was sharp, causing the team captain to immediately scramble to your side. “I need you to hold this and count to five. Every time you say five, give it a light squeeze. Okay? Show me.”

“One… two… three… four… five.” At the number five, he lightly squeezed the bag, causing Jamie’s chest to rise. Turning to the oxygen tank, you spun the dial to the 25 mark, the sound of the oxygen whooshing through the tubing and out of the mask filling your ears. You felt like you were on autopilot as you pulled a cervical collar from the bag and slid it under Jamie’s neck. Maybe this was all just a crazy dream, and you would wake up in your bed, the morning of the match, and none of this would’ve happened at all.

As you continued to work, you could still hear Isaac counting out loud. One, two, three, four, breath. One, two, three, four, breath.

It was the only sound. The stadium had gone entirely silent.

“Fuck you, Jamie, wake the fuck up.” A drop of water fell onto his bare chest as you placed the pads of the AED. Is it raining? No. You’re crying. The machine went through the prompts as you finally looked up. A gurney was making its way down the field, two medics pushing it through the grass with an ambulance waiting behind them. You wanted to scream at them for not being any faster.

The last thing he said to you was in anger. The last conversation you had with him was filled with miscommunication and hurt.

No shock advised, the AED told you. Fingers to his neck again, you confirmed Jamie still had a pulse.

“What we got?” One of the medics asked as they placed a backboard next to Jamie.

“27 year old male, unresponsive after a head injury.” Stop fucking shaking. Stop fucking sounding like you care so much. “GCS of 3. Hypertensive at 162/108. Pulse present and rapid at 124. P-Patient was not breathing, he’s now on 25 litres of oxygen at 12 breaths a minute. C-spine secured.”

Isaac was still counting. One, two, three, four, breath.

As the other medics began to switch Jamie to their equipment, you took the opportunity to wipe your cheeks on your sleeves. Almost immediately after, you scrambled to sit near his head, where Sam and Isaac still took up a lot of space. It seemed that the medics were going to ask you to move, but then wordlessly decided to allow you to help. Which was good for them, considering you weren’t planning on letting either of them guide his head. Placing a hand on either side of the cervical collar, the other medics counted before rolling him in order to place the board underneath him. Once he was laid back down, and they were strapping him down, you still had your hands on either side of his head, running your thumbs up and down his cheeks.

He looked unreal, with the mask on his face and his chest rising and falling so mechanically. You had gone through scenarios like this one dozens and dozens of times before, yet somehow, at this moment, you felt like this was the first time in your whole life that you had ever encountered it.

“You’ll be fine,” You whispered to him, leaning down and planting a kiss on his forehead.

Jamie was hoisted into the air before being moved to the gurney, where he was secured with even more straps, It was weird to watch, but only because it was him. Trying to be helpful, while also not ready to part from him yet, you grabbed the heart monitor and walked alongside, the weight making you waddle slightly to keep up. Sam and Isaac were still following at the head and doing the jobs you had assigned them, as the two medics pushed the gurney towards the ambulance. The cot was secured to the loader before Jamie was lifted in the air seamlessly at the press of a button. One of the medics took over for Sam and Isaac, the two of the stepping to the side while anxiously continuing to watch. The other medic took the heart monitor from you and set it inside the back of the ambulance before shutting the doors.

Go.

Go with them.

But you can’t.

Because one hurt player doesn’t absolve your responsibility to the rest.

As the ambulance pulled out of the garage off the side of the pitch, lights immediately turned on, a hand gripped your shoulder and gave a light squeeze. Even as the doors closed, you could still hear the scream of the sirens echoing off the walls as the ambulance pulled out of the stadium and carried him away.

“Alright,” Roy said, to you as well as to Sam and Isaac. “Let’s go.”

You looked back a few times as Roy led you back down the pitch. Somewhere in your heart, you believed that maybe it was a mistake, and the doors would open and Jamie would run out with a big smile, laughing as he explained it was all one big joke.

No such thing happened though, as you resumed your place at the staging area, a bowling ball in your stomach, and stabbing pain in your chest.