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ladamedusoif · 1 year

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For The Night: A Short Story About Reading and Riding

Special Agent Ortega x F!Sex Worker Reader

Pairing: Special Agent Ortega x F!Sex Worker Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Rating: Explicit (18+; MDNI)

Summary: You might not be one of the “sweet young things” in the whorehouse any more, but a seemingly reluctant special agent helps remind you of your worth.

Content/Warnings: This is basically just smut; some slightly sweet fluff; but mostly smut; unprotected PiV sex; oral sex (M and F receiving); size kink; slight praise kink; sex worker reader; some period-appropriate terminology.

Notes: Look, we all got very excited when one of the Holy Grails of Early Pedrontent was revealed to us today. Some of us (me) were unable to stop thinking about Special Agent Ortega and his dusty, slightly skrunkly late nineteenth-century get-up. And now here I am writing what is essentially PWP for him.

This is very much a one-shot, stream of consciousness fic, so please bear that in mind (as with my Thief story I’m not entirely sure I didn’t dream some of this in a sleepy haze). There may well be errors and typos.

In this story Ortega is called Jerónimo, usually shortened to Jerón.

With love and thanks to @julesonrecord and @lunapascal for being enablers and sounding boards, especially to Lucy for suggesting Ortega’s name!

Divider by @saradika

Nights like this, nights when you’ve got no custom, again, and the rent’s looking unlikely to be paid, you want to storm downstairs and slam down the lid on the saloon piano. It teases and taunts you, like the practiced giggles and moans from the other girls in the rooms along the hall and the bedraggled grunts of drunken men paying for their company.

You read a little more of your book and try to distract yourself from the noise. Strictly speaking, whores aren’t meant to be bookish - but now and again a traveller might leave a volume behind him, and the other girls know to send them your way. Helps keep your mind busy, especially when other parts aren’t.

There’s a commotion on the stairs, and you can hear the madam’s voice as she guides another man - maybe two men? - towards the landing. You overhear the light, youthful laughter of Rosa, one of the house’s most popular girls, as she flatters and teases her client - clients, you assume - on the way to her room.

You hear heavy footsteps stopping outside your door. One of the men, further away now, is teasing the other. “Have some goddamn fun, Ortega! We’re in a fuckin’ whorehouse, we’re not on the clock now!” Rosa giggles in response as the man continues, addressing the madam. “My fine woman, can you set my second gun up with a sweet young thing for the night? Seein’ as I’m already covered.”

The door of Rosa’s room closes and the giggling gives way to silence.

The madam clears her throat. “We do have one girl who’s free, though unfortunately she’s, er, one of our more experienced ladies. I’m sorry, sir, I can see if one of the newer girls is finishing up soon…”

A second voice responds, and you realise it belongs to whoever is standing at your door. “Ma’am, it’s quite alright, I don’t need -“ but the madam interrupts him as she knocks on your door and pops her head in.

She looks you up and down with evident disapproval and hisses at you. “Put that goddamned book away, girl. It’s your lucky night, you’ve got a customer. HURRY UP!”

You shove the book in a drawer and stand up, lightly plumping your hair with one hand and tugging down the front of your chemise to reveal a little more cleavage with the other. You might not be one of the “sweet young things” any more, so you need all the help you can get.

The madam ushers him in and closes the door with a final warning stare in your direction. You try to put on a show, shifting your body into something approximating an alluring stance and looking up to meet his gaze. But there’s something in his eyes and his expression that surprises you enough to snap out of your little performance.

He’s young - mid thirties, maybe, not the inexperienced virgin boys you sometimes get in here but certainly not the old-before-their-time grizzled, abusive drunks you’re increasingly used to. And he’s…well. Handsome. Broad-shouldered, neatly-trimmed moustache, good figure, even in his slightly worn and dusty clothes. His low-slung gun belt draws the eye to narrow hips.

But it’s the eyes that stop you in your tracks. Big, dark, and warm, they look you over with a quirk of his eyebrows as his mouth drops slightly open. As a whole package, he’s handsome; but the face? Lord, he’s pretty.

He stands very still for a couple of moments, looking you up and down, up and down. He moves from the doorway into the room, placing two glasses of liquor on your little nightstand and taking off his hat with a little bow in your direction, which seems endearingly out of place in its formality. He shucks off his jacket and leaves it on a chair.

“What’s your name, sir?” you ask, moving towards him.

The eyes flick upwards to meet yours, a little smile dancing around his lips. “Jerónimo Ortega, miss,” and your heart does a little flip at his politeness, “but most people just call me Jerón.”

You repeat the name to yourself and sit on the bed, patting the space beside you. He sits down, but there’s a nervousness to him that even the rough, strong liquor can’t erase.

“Y’know, Jerón, if you really don’t wanna fuck a woman like me that’s okay. We can just, I dunno. Just talk, or somethin’.”

He shakes his head and looks up at you with a grin. He looks even more boyish when he smiles like that. “It’s not that I don’t want to…do anything, it’s just…”

You reach for his hand, broad and tanned. “I get it. You probably wish you’d got to Rosa first, huh.”

His expression shifts to one of confusion. “No, I…shit. I… I just didn’t think you were going to be so pretty.”

Now it’s your turn to be confused. “Sir, you’re payin’ me. You don’t have to flatter me. Usually I’m the one flatterin’ the man.”

He does a little half-smile, revealing a deep-set dimple that makes you want to reach out and kiss it. He taps his silver agency badge. “You saying an agent of the law is a liar, miss? Because I’m no liar, and you are beautiful.”

You giggle, moving your hand to his firm thigh, starting to trail your fingers up to his crotch. Usually you’d be summoning your best acting abilities around now, to avoid running screaming from whatever sweaty old man was trying to get his dick up, but now? With him? Hell, this could almost feel real.

You lightly run your hand over the bulge that’s visibly straining at his pants, drawing a moan from him, and tug gently on the watch chain that runs across his waistcoat along his middle. You pull him in towards you, fingers entwined with the silver metal, and he reaches up to cup your face in his hands as he kisses you, deeply and hungrily.

“If you wanna wash, there’s a basin over there behind that screen.” you murmur. “Might wanna get undressed, too.”

He nods and disappears behind the screen as you undo your stays and slip out of your skirt and chemise. You take down your hair and try to arrange it as artfully as you can as you lie back on the mattress, naked and hoping to God he likes what he sees.

Jerón emerges wearing only his shirt, unbuttoned to the waist. His hard cock is visible against the light cotton, and you can actually feel your nipples harden at the thoughts of having him inside you as wetness pools between your legs.

“Jesus, fuck, you’re even more beautiful naked. Can I…”

You beckon him with a nod of your head and help him out of his shirt as he joins you on the bed. It’s all you can do not to moan when you see just how big he is, hard length thick and reddened and already leaking pre-come from the tip.

“You ever had your dick sucked, Jerón?” You manoeuvre him down onto the bed, working your way down and between his legs. Hands resting on his thighs, you spread him open a little bit more.

“N-no…fucked women but not that, not…not yet”. He’s already almost rutting the air with his hips.

“Pity, really, cos this is a gorgeous dick. Mind if I do the honours?” He nods frantically as you look up at him through your lashes and guide his cock into your wet mouth. He bucks upwards immediately, mewling with pleasure at the sensation. You hum with satisfaction as you suck him, sending the vibrations through his cock as he whines in response.

You take him out of your mouth for a moment, trailing your tongue up and down the underside of his cock. “Fuck, Jerón, you like this, huh? What do you want me to do, sweet boy?”

“W-wanna… want to fuck your mouth,” his breathing is ragged as he pants the words. “W-wanna fuck you.”

“Good, darlin’. So fuck my mouth and then you can have me as much as you want.” You brace yourself between his legs, a hand lightly stroking the base of his dick, and slide him back between your lips. Jerón cries out as he starts to fuck up and into your mouth, bringing a hand to the back of your head as he thrusts harder and faster.

You take his hand and ease him out of your mouth. “You want to fuck me or you wanna finish there, darlin’?”

“Want…want you.” He’s close, you can tell, and you hope the little breather will give him a little more stamina for when he’s inside you. “Want your cunt.”

You move up his body and rest your heavy tits on his chest. He reaches out to grope them as you grind your hips against him, before rolling onto your back and easing him over on top of you.

You look up at him and open your legs as he gazes down at you, running his hand up and down his wet cock. “Look at my pussy before you fuck it, sweet boy. See what you do to me. Tell me.”

Jerón looks at your cunt as if it’s a lost treasure, bringing his free hand to trail along your slit and feel the wetness that’s been gathering there since you laid eyes on him. “So wet for me. So swollen and wet and fucking warm, sweet girl.” He brings his fingers to his lips and groans at the taste of you before getting down and bringing his face between your legs.

“Is this…okay?” He flashes you a look of those big puppy dog eyes, that handsome face nestled between your plush thighs, and you can’t even find the words. You nod and rest your hand on the back of his head as he brings that pretty fucking mouth to your core. Some men really like this. Some men like this and are bad at it. Some men think this is only for “pansies” and other terms you would rather not think about.

Jerón Ortega is not particularly experienced in this, you suspect, but he’s a natural talent, sucking and flicking his tongue over your clit while using those soft, plump lips to form a tight seal around your wet cunt. You moan and writhe on the mattress as he slips his tongue in and out of you until you come hard on his face, the tip of his nose nudging against your clit as you climax.

He shifts his broad body upwards as you hitch up your legs and reach around to grab his ass and guide his cock inside you. Even after all these years and even with being wetter than you have in a very long time, it’s still a tight fit, his size filling you completely and making you sigh with satisfaction before he’s even moved.

He starts to fuck you quickly, chasing his own high. He leans back a little so he can see you underneath him, tits bouncing as he takes you hard and deep. Sometimes he brings his mouth to your nipples, laving his tongue around the firm peak and the soft skin of your breast, moaning as he does so. You wrap your arms around his broad back and hold on for dear life as he fucks you harder and better than you’ve been fucked in your life, one big hand grabbing your tit so hard you know it’ll leave a mark and the other trying to reach between your legs and rub your clit.

“So fucking beautiful, you are,” he grunts into your ear, “so soft for me, so wet for me, such a tight, pretty pussy.” He looks into your eyes again, and you feel you might explode as those coffee-brown irises look into the very heart of you.

“Jerón…” You usually try to avoid moaning a client’s name, just as a rule of thumb. But this doesn’t feel like work, tonight, and he certainly doesn’t feel like a client.

“Let go, darling, let go, hermosa.”

And you do, with a deep wail you’re certain has been heard all over the whorehouse and in the saloon below and probably as far as the boundary of the town. And you don’t give a fuck who hears you, as you cry out his name while he fucks you through the aftershocks.

The throbbing of your cunt around his dick tips Jerón over the edge, and you feel him come, hard and deep, his warm body dripping sweat onto your tits below. He kisses you hard before he pulls out, then flops beside you on the bed.

You look over at him as he tries to catch his breath. Normally at this stage, the client throws your small fee on the chest of drawers before washing again and dragging on his clothes before heading back to the bar. Normally, you can’t fuckin’ wait for them to go so you can wash their smell and scent and come off you.

Him? You don’t want him to leave. You want him to stay. Tonight. Tomorrow night. Forever.

Your post-orgasmic haze snaps as you jolt yourself back to reality. He’s a lawman, a handsome young professional, just passing through on a job. You’ve been a whore since you were a teenager, a long time in this game. You’ve watched girl after girl win over men who whisk them away to better lives, while you stay here in this shitty little room and wait for someone to pay for your body.

In a few minutes, Jerón Ortega will gather up his clothes, dress, leave the money, and disappear out of your life. Just a gorgeous memory for you to replay in your mind when you have some red-faced toothless rancher on top of you in a few nights’ time.

His breathing is steadier now and he turns to face you. “That was…just marvellous, miss.”

You smile softly and stroke his cheek. “You don’t have to praise me, Jerón. You’re paying, remember.”

A kind of sadness flashes across his face. “Oh. Didn’t feel like a transaction to me, but what do I know, I guess.”

“Didn’t to me, either, but…”

He reaches over and pulls you close to him. “Is it against the rules for me to stay here with you tonight? I - hell, I don’t want to leave you.”

You shake your head. “Stayin’s fine, sweet boy. You sure about this? You don’t want to see if one of the other girls is free?”

He looks at you intently. “Don’t think there could be another girl for me, now.”

#agent ortega #special agent ortega #agent ortega x f!reader #agent ortega fanfiction #special agent ortega fanfiction #the sixth gun #the sixth gun fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedrostories #pedro pascal

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musicalmoritz · 14 days

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Whose your favorite tbhk character?

Ahhhhhhh I’m so glad you asked this!! It’s easily Teru, no competition. I decided he was going to be my favorite before I even read the manga and I have stood by that decision, everything I read about him only makes me love him more. Since this is a primarily ship account, a femslash account at that, I don’t get to talk about him as much as I would like to but I absolutely LOVE Teru he is my son

It’s so refreshing to see an older sibling in anime that isn’t abusive, I’m so used to seeing ones that absolutely suck ass. Don’t get me wrong, I love a lot of those characters too, but it’s nice to see an older sibling character that actually acts like an oldest sibling. Everything he does is for Kou and Tiara, he adores both of them. He always looks at and talks to them so fondly but we still catch scenes of him teasing them like siblings do (the donut scene with Kou). He acts very parental with both of them which is sweet, Minamoto dad who?? I only know Teru

I also like that he falls into the Gandalf archetype of “strong character that everyone else relies on to save the day”. Part of me hopes he dies just so we can see what the characters would do without him lol, but there are other ways to write him out for that development. Put him in a box like Gojo, or have him get arrested like Dazai. Tbh anything would be more interesting than him ending the series staring sadly at Akane and Aoi as they walk into the sunset without him. Best case scenario, let him quit his job!! Let him be somebody’s malewife, I don’t care who just give that boy a break. Let him pull a Maki Zenin on the Minamoto Clan

And yeah speaking of the clan, Teru’s angst is obviously a large part of why I like him. He didn’t get a childhood, and he’s forced to continue with a job he hates so that his siblings don’t have to. I love those type of characters tbh, they make me so sad. He’s morally gray and I love that but I also find his reasons for doing what he does to be very admirable, I would do the same if I were in his shoes. He sacrifices all his free time to protect the city from supernaturals, bro is just casually the Batman of the TBHK universe. And he does it mainly for his siblings, which circles back to the “good big brother” thing. It’s not a reach to assume he has trauma from fighting supernaturals at such a young age (and for so long), so I understand why he has a hard time seeing the good in them. That makes it extra interesting when he decides Akane is an exception

I love his personality, he’s the embodiment of the word “silly.” I like his sadistic side, sadist characters are so fun to me (Minamoto Typical Sadism mention). I like that he’s charming to his classmates and generally kind to all humans, despite all the cruel things he’s been through. He doesn’t want any other humans to suffer like he has so he treats them with kindness and vows to protect them. And most of all I like the way he acts around his friends and siblings, particularly Akane!! He acts like a normal teenager around him and we get to see just how socially awkward he actually is when he’s being himself. But he also doesn’t hold back with Akane, he doesn’t feel the need to show him the same respect he shows others so his sadist side really comes out when they’re together. Many fans seem to assume that Teru ONLY acts his age around Akane but that’s not true, he acts that way around Nene and Aoi too!! And with Aoi he shows a bit of his darker side, though he’s not mean to her the way he is with Akane

I love his atrocious sense of fashion, I love his terrible cooking skills, I love how scheming and shady he can be, I love how caring he is towards others, I love his speech patterns. It’s the exact opposite of Kendrick and Drake, I love everything about this man. He’s my silly little guy, my gay best friend, my skrunkly dude. He’s clearly under a lot of pressure and he’s still super young so I cut him way more slack than most fans do, my little sister is also 17 and she’s a baby in my eyes so Teru is too

Oh, what are my favorite scenes of his? I like when he agreed to help Kou catch bugs without knowing the context, I like when he randomly started venting to Akane, him taking out the roof of that train, what he did with the pepperonis, the entire sequence of his first day off, the zombie chapter…ugh I love this guy. I love writing him. I need to write Teru again

Thank you so much for this ask, I love whenever I have an excuse to infodump about my favorite characters lol. And for those of you that were wondering, my second favorite is Kou. Ty ty

#teru minamoto #ask #ask me anything #tbhk #toilet bound hanako kun #jshk #jibaku shounen hanako kun

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ineffablelifetoallmetatrons · 11 months

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All the good omens things I've been doing since s2, just wanted to throw them back out because I wanna refresh myself or smt

ALSO ARTISTS, DO NOT FEEL ASHAMED TO REBLOG YOUR OWN CREATIONS

I didn't want to because I felt like it was ungrateful of me, almost as if I was saying 'the notes I have on these posts aren't enough, give more' but I saw a post that made me feel much better about it, I'll try and find it 🏃‍♀️

Oopsie!omens fanart!! (a reverse AU comic made by @asleepyy if u haven't seen it already absolutely check it out its AMAZINGGG)

My baby Azazel WAA

A little comic of Jophiel and Azazel

MORE SKRUNKLY AZAZEL andddd a snakey jophiel

Jophiel confused and sad and loving a teeny teeny Azazel

Good Omens TV fanart (mostly goodomentober)

Drawing of Angelic Crowley and teeny Azi :D

Angel!Crowley and Aziraphale, among the stars

Crowley falling from heaven :(

A funny poster on the walls of Hell

Teeny tiny Azi being sad and alone in Heaven

THE BENTLEY!!

Az.Fell & Co

Give Me Coffee Or Give Me Death

Fanfics, or should I say fanficlets??

Fishing, a fanficlet I wanna continue

A teeny ficlet

An even teenier ficlet

Thats all lol

Please everyone, if you see art you like, or a fanfic, a fanart please reblog! Liking posts is amazing but reblogging is the thing that really helps artists and spreads their amazing work around and i love love LOVE it when ppl reblog my art with supportive tags its literally so lovely and gives me motivation so tysm everyone!

Talking about supporting artists, here are a few amazing art creators and fanfic writers that really inspire me, their content is awesome check them out if you have the time :D

@asleepyy @actual-changeling @ineffable-baker-street @dec-d @gleafer @ppaemeu4 @chalktwins

Theyre super awesome! Thank you for reading my ramblings, and (if you did) checking out my creations i linked lol

Have a great day and support the artists!

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #good omens fanart #good omens fanfiction #artists appreciation post #support the artists!#can i get a wahoo

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good-beans · 8 months

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HI @rainbowghostcat and @boxx-sama -- I have been enabled so I'm here to ramble a bit about my faves >:3 Top three are definitely Fuuta, Mahiru, and Yuno! Good taste gang !!🤝✨✨✨

It's a mix of enjoying their songs, genuinely getting into their stories, and relating to them just enough to go a little crazy asdfsd :') Shidou comes in at a close 4th, I love him a lot but I'm not as insane as I am about these guys lmao.

I was holding onto these asks to ramble when I had the time/energy but uuuuhhh I didn't mean to go on for so long sorry 😭 Woe, 03 06 02 thoughts be upon ye...

Starting with Fuuta!! His character has everything – He’s cool, he’s lame, he’s terrifying, he’s tragic, he’s funny, he’s unbearably real, he’s my silly little guy, he makes me cry, etc. The core of his character that always gets me is how normal he is. How he’s probably closest to the majority of the audience – he (and Kazui) are the only ones who did not have murder on their mind at all. He anticipated harm, but the thought of someone dying never once crossed his mind. He’s right around teens/early twenties. He engages with the online world a lot. So many milgram fans are in that age range, on the internet a lot (in order to enjoy the project and its fanbase), feel a strong sense of justice (since they’re so engaged in a project about morality), and aren’t in any situation dramatic enough that they expect anyone to die. He’s so much like all of us.

Continuing on that, his heart really is in the right place to start. He cares deeply about people and society, which is why he wants to fix it. His vision is a bit small, focusing on petty issues rather than huge social issues, but the point is he cares. He attacks Es because he’s trying to be the brave representative after hearing Haruka and Yuno were attacked. He yells at Kazui and Mahiru because they’re not helping the others. He takes care of Haruka. He gives Mahiru a birthday gift even when he has nothing to give.

His biggest issue is, he doesn’t belong. I’ve written up a whole analysis on how he’s written very neurodivergent: he misses social cues, he’s on the outskirts of friendships and groups. It’s more clear in characters like Haruka and Muu, but Fuuta is just as incredibly desperate for attention. For love. For that feeling of belonging in a group. His knightly fantasies aren’t ones of violence and weapons – they’re mostly scenes of him surrounded by a close-knit party of adventurers who are cheering him on.

All of this together is what makes him so compelling and so tragic to me. All the characters are human and real, but he’s the closest to a lot of viewers (myself included). He let the attention get to his head for just a bit too long, let himself get swept away in finally having friends. He got distracted thinking that the focus of being a hero was defeating, and not protecting. And all it took was a brief time of getting drunk on this attention, and now he has a little girl’s blood on his hands. It makes me absolutely insane.

I also think he’s such a cool special case because he truly got a taste of his own medicine. The other characters are being judged in an unfamiliar way, but he is being scrutinized in the Exact same way that Fuuta pried open others’ privacy. He was attacked and almost died because of Es’ judgment, just as his victim was attacked because of his judgment. The process of Milgram is putting him in his victim’s shoes, and it’s so cool to see.

Aaaaand on a lighter note – he’s just so fun!! He’s my little skrunkly fr!!! I love his shit-eating grin. I love his ridiculous laugh. I love his crooked teeth. I love the knight theme, and the fire symbolism. It’s pretty standard, but it suits him perfectly. He’s got such cool, badass songs! I’m obsessed with his voice, both his singing and vd performances are incredible. His vds are the only ones I’ll listen to often and out of the blue – Arthur Lounsbery uses such an interesting and fun voice for him ;--; His design is so fun (apparently I have a Type for redhead characters…), and his t2 development and design were amazing! There has been no other Milgram character that I want to reach through the screen and shake violently by the shoulders and also hug so badly 😂

I’m so obsessed with her theme of ‘being so kind that it causes harm’!! Because it’s very easy to dismiss the other characters as unforgivable when you look at the harm they wanted to cause their victim, or disregard they had for their victim’s feelings. But Mahiru… she doesn’t want to cause any harm. At all. She took her boyfriend’s feelings into consideration so much so that she didn’t stop him when she definitely should have. She doesn’t have a mean bone in her body and yet she fucked up big time!! It’s such a unique type of murder!! The other characters need to be sat down and told “don’t hurt innocents, don’t seek revenge, don’t be selfish, etc” and then Mahiru is over here like “don’t be… nice to people.” Because it’s not about being nice per se – it’s about not being a doormat.

(I know her story is still a bit mysterious – my running theory is that her bf had health issues completely separate from their relationship. They started getting bad and he started to consider suicide. Instead of stopping him, Mahiru combined her need to copy her lover (as seen a lot in TIHTBILWY), her ideas that lovers do everything together, and her belief that one should do anything they set their mind to (as seen in her comments about Es/Kotoko and the attack). She says she’ll join him, make it a lovers’ suicide, but doesn’t follow through at the last second.)

She (and Mikoto) have really interesting themes of how not caring for yourself can actually hurt others. They put all their efforts into giving back to others, to society, fitting into the norms and expectations, not questioning others, and it backfires catastrophically. If she had stood up for herself and her relationship, she would not have assumed anyone deserved to die. She would have known that it wasn’t up to her alone to deal with her bf’s mental issues. She obviously wasn’t handling it correctly (rats….) but she didn’t need to! She should have pointed him to professionals instead of deciding she deserved to die along with him! But she was so poisoned by society’s expectations of being the perfect girlfriend and being considerate of others…

She’s just such a tragic case because the power of love is supposed to be perfect. She’s been taught her whole life that it’s wonderful and magical and pure. Who can kill with the power of love, after all? I can completely understand her denial of the situation, because I also wouldn’t picture a terrifying, dark scene if I knew I was only being nice for my whole life!

And her crime aside – she’s super fun :3 She has The Most Fun songs, she’s full of energy and excitement and enthusiasm! (out of the various english covers I like, hers is the one I jam out to most often hehe). She’s the most stunning character there! I’m a sucker for sunshine-coded characters 🌻🌻🌻I think she has the best symbols out of everyone, between the birdcage and the carousel. The fact that both Mahiru and her bf could be the bird and the cage. The two symbols representing beautiful things that can be trapping. Representing cycles. Representing relationships. I know the hourglass is a popular one but I think this is Yamanaka's finest set of symbols. I am unwell about it. So yeah, rather than give her a good shake I want to yank her right out of there – Get in loser we’re gonna get you some self-love!!!!

And a slightly shorter rant on Yuno because that was a lot adfsdf. Ad I'm aware of the irony that one of my points is that it kinda sucks how most rants on Yuno are cut short :( The thing is, she’s been very honest about her crime, and most people have considered her issue in a context outside of Milgram so they already have a pretty good idea on where their vote stands. Despite being the “obvious” innocent one, she really is the most emotionally charged character imo. It’s easy to relate to the other characters and feel knee-jerk reaction, but none have been so widely discussed as abortion and sex work. I can talk openly about everyone else and get into a nice discussion on morals and emotions, but Yuno is the one character I have to talk very, very carefully around. Whether I’m rambling about Milgram to my family or interacting with new fans, I never know what’s acceptable to say without falling into a whole debate on politics.

So, if it’s made me into someone who keeps quiet and skirts around things, I shudder to imagine the amount of lying/masking Yuno herself must do on a daily basis. I can easily avoid the topic if I choose to – she was dealing with that debate long before coming to Milgram, and is currently dealing with debates and judgements and insults and pity surrounding it. She’s naturally strong so I think fans often forget all the shit that this 18yo is dealing with on a daily basis, and how effortless she’s making it look <3

#milgram #fuuta kajiyama #mahiru shiina #yuno kashiki #❤️🧡🩷#LMAO SORRY #im just yellin about some of my favorite things -- feel free to yell back! (or completely ignore me asdfsdfs)#thank you tsumi for the dividers!#and the base for that phone meme was going around but lmk if you want it and i can link it #ask #rose posts

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moonriddles · 1 year

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Hey so i have this oc-

I just fricking love him so much i feel the urge of posting him everywhere

Akio Vé Draxum is a goat yokai of Asian-Nordic descent who exudes an intimidating presence wherever he goes. A tribute to his family's pride, his long hair is adorned with delicate gold ornaments that his mother used to entwine when he was just a baby, keeping it in his honor and as a constant reminder of his roots and heritage.

His childhood marked by tragedy shaped his character. At the age of four, his quiet rural town in feudal Japan was raided by humans, nearly leading to the extinction of his race. His mother, a legendary warrior, made the ultimate sacrifice to protect her children, an act of bravery that Akio carries with him as a beacon of inspiration.

Raised by his older brother, B.Draxum, Akio received an intensive education in the art of war and fighting. However, his relationship with Draxum is complex; although they care for each other, Akio harbors some resentment for his brother's bossy attitude during their childhood. The line between teacher and brother blurred, leaving a feeling of lack of emotional support.

Over the centuries, Akio has forged himself into a formidable warrior, renowned in the yokai community for his exploits in war and his unwavering loyalty. But his scars, both physical and emotional, are evident. He is one-eyed, his face and body are scarred by wounds from past conflicts, and while serious and self-centered, he is also loyal to the core and has a deep sense of duty and family.

The mystical Nodachi that Akio wields is an extension of his own essence. Holding a jade handle, it gives off a powerful and mystical aura that seems to resonate with the strength of its ancestors. Imbued with the energy of his lineage, the saber is a tool he uses with supernatural prowess in the protection of his people and revenge against those who have caused harm to his race.

The figure of his mother continues to be a beacon of hope and pain in his life. Sometimes in his dreams he catches a glimpse of her silhouette or hears melodies that he used to sing to her, but he can never see her face. This inability to fully remember his mother is a constant source of melancholy for Akio.

Akio Draxum is a warrior with unwavering spiritual depth, an unwavering loyalty to his yokai lineage, and an iron determination to protect his own. Although his relationship with his brother is complicated, their brotherly bond is a fundamental pillar in his life, and together, they are guardians of a yokai tradition that fights to endure in an ever-changing world.

And well he hates both human and mutant, he considers this last race as inferior and weak for not being "pure blooded yokai".

I have the headcanon that Draxum is Japanese-Nordic

More than anything due to the fact that Huginn and Muninn base their names on Odin's servants who also perch on his shoulders. So, I wanted to do something similar with Akio and give him companions based on outstanding creatures from Escavandian mythology.

Sleipnir was a gift from Draxum when he began his journey as a warrior, "every noble and fierce warrior needs a steed at his level" was what he said to him

Freky is a mortal falcon that Akio rescued from the surface and turned into his servant and companion, it is his eyes around the hidden city. Like all mortal animals, Freky died over the years, but Akio keeps his soul in his sword to keep him with him even after death.

And that's all i think?? I just love hin he's my baby my skrunkly

#my art #fanart #messy sketch #rottmnt fc #rottmnt baron draxum #rottmnt #rottmnt oc #original character #rise of the tmnt oc #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt oc #tmnt 2018 #baron draxum #nordic stuff

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ranposgirlboss · 1 year

Text

~HCS FROM MY BOOK!!-PART ONE~

THIS IS MULTIFANDOM!! also most of these are either slander or made for being a silly joke <333 so please don't take this seriously

fandoms: genshin impact, bungou stray dogs, and honkai impact

genre: fluff, slander, and sillies (it progressively gets less and less serious)

enjoy my shitty hcs from like a year ago <333 (they are actually older lol) ALSO ARE EXTREMELY SHORT SINCE IM LITERALLY JUST TAKING WHAT I WROTE WITHOUT CHANGING IT AND PUTTING IT OVER ON HERE LMAOASBHJAS (there's only so much space on paper </3)

chara list!!: albedo, kazuha, xiao, diluc, heizou, fu hua (sentience), scaramouche, aponia, dazai, ranpo, poe, ANDDD nikolai!!

FIRST TIME HOLDING HANDS!!

ALBEDO

-"its all for an experiment" he says

-lil bitch ok sure

-probably gonna study what this feeling is when he holds your hand and "why he feels so warm on the inside"

-acts like he doesnt care that much but bros probably gonna draw yall holding hands like a 13 year old drawing in her diary 💀

KAZUHA

-i love him but

-probably would make a poem about how your hand feels 😭

-he would be so cute tho ngl

-i mean just as always but also like

-please hold his hand he just loves you so much and along with words of affirmation physical contact seems to be his thing

-UGH MARRY ME

XIAO

-"wow y/n when you hold my hand the voices cease their calls for me to go to taco bell, thank you y/n."

-TAKE ME HIGHH AND ILL SINGGGG YOU MAKE EVERYTHING OKAY OHKAY OHKAY OHKAY (if you know that song here's your free kiss <33)

-and then you get married the end

-W H Y D I D I W R I T E T H I S B Y E -

DILUC

-could give less of a shit

-but for the sake of being a gentleman he says thank you and then continues bat manning sillily.

HEIZOU

-"y/n holding hands is cool but i think we should start an investigation of how fast we could make it to my place ;)"

-KILL YOURSELF. (please dont lead the way my silly detective <33)

-this gif makes me want to impulsively eat vanilla cake.

FU HUA

-YAAAATTAAAAA

-*holds hand* look at the beautiful sight ahead of us Y/N! no i did not make that fire-"

-fu hua arsonist era

APONIA

-MOMMY bjnEBHEKHBWJSK

-"y/n holding hands is great but why don't we open our arms and eyes to god"

DAZAI

-I APOLOGIZE TO ALL MY BSD READERS WHO HAVE TO SCROLL THIS FAR JUST TO GET THIS SILLy

-"i can always hold more then your hand~"

-a flirty bitch, but yall got chuuya knocking on your door asking you to "control your dog"

-ironic how chuuya is the one who says that

RANPO

-UGH I LOVE MY SKRUNKLE DOODLE PUSH POP SILLY SKRUNKLY CRUNKLY MUMPLY SILLY (yes i wrote that WORD. FOR. WORD.)

-will hold your hand for payments

-affection?? candy??? candys nuts fit in your mouth because they sure are about to <33 (i want to erase what i write sometimes)

-gets so happy omg

-not only does he have candy, you, but NOW he gets to hold your hand too>!1/!?!?

-wow he might as well steal from a candy store at this point

-might as well

-he swears it was an accident

POE

-poe held your hand with such sweetness, care, tenderness, love, and affection

-karl pulls up in his Mazarati, ready to throw hands once and for all, how DARE someone get more attention then karl

-poe has some explaining to do

-(i wonder how high i was when i wrote these)

-(i think i was 5'5)

NIKOLAI ( I FUCKING LOVE THIS ONE)

-so you go to hold his hand in y/n fashion

-suddenly you almost get hit by a bus

-"shit my bad wrong item"

-you stare in utter confusion at the bus as it suddenly vanishes like a fucking mob from minecraft or some shit

-nikolai god arc confirmed real

-so anyways you suddenly feel warmth on your hand on you see another fucking hand gripping yours but its literally just the hand detached from the body

-you are extremely scared and concerned why there's another hand gripping yours out of nowhere but with nikolai anything is possible so you just accept it and hold his hand back

-he giggles and nikolais away with the hand still holding yours

-(I ASKED HOW HIGH I WAS WHEN I WROTE THE LAST ONE BUT WHAT IS EVEN HAPPENING HERE.)

----------------------------------

the voices

ALOS THNAK YOU FOR READING THIS PIECE OF SHIT IM SORRY. SHE WAS ME FROM A YEAR AGO I DONT KNOW HER 😭

alos my reqs are always open

I ALSO APOLOGIZE FOR THE TAGS

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lylia-horrow · 2 months

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I have a few questions ab Lev bc he’s such a cute skrunkly but also confusing

1.does Lev genuinely care about how MC feels in general and not just about being trapped in a room?

2.does Lev exclusively only feel loved when being harmed?

3.why does genuine care and affection (in like a soft way) disgust him?

I’m sorry for whining it’s just I personally love cutting n’ stuff but also mixing it in with sweetness and fluffiness

4.random but how do each of the brothers taste..like if you were to cut a chunk of them off and eat them?

5. how would Lev react to an Mc that abused him like that scene where Mc cut his dicc off and then Mc treats him like an absolute prince

6. Also unrelated but what was your inspo for Lev? Like just as a character

1. Lev has his own goals from the beginning of the game already, his little "caring" about MC is just one of his tricks to make MC lower their guard around him. He really doesn't care about MC at all. (Unless MC have the same name of the only person he loved, but that's for Day 3 ^^)

2. Yes, physical pain gives him comfort, it reminds him of the old time when his father was still alive. Having a violent MC in his room is just like how it used to be.

3. He's disgusted by affection because in his mind, affection is an act, just an act to make him weak. Love ruins his entire purpose as a demon. There's a reason why he was born as a demon child instead of a normal human child, he wants to be what Ricard couldn't, he wants to make his father proud of him. So he can throw Ricard away, and look at him only.

4. Ricard and Aster would probably tastes super juicy and sweet.

Lev would just tastes disgusting, like rotting meat.

5. Being nice to him after a brutal cutting section, he'd gladly accept their offer of affection, as long as they can continue doing worse things to him.

6. Lev's entire character was inspired by the Creepypasta story of Lost Silver and the personality of Blue Diamond from Steven Universe! My first design and ideas about him was a demon who fell obsessively in love with a human after they let him live instead of killing him. Lev used to do a lot of fucked up things to get to his crush, but then later learned that maybe he should let his crush go. Well this Lev isn't going to! No letting MC go for present Lev!

(Here, have a Demon Lev unofficial sprite and a cookie too! Just for you! 🍪)

#character qna #doodle

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flower-zombie-rob · 2 years

Note

I am distinctly not the friend. I like Robbie, hes fun. Although i was curious myself once you said you had reasons hdjdndm

My reasons for liking Robbie are pretty much because hes not canon. Free real estate /hj

So one design wise hes really cute and he uses my favorite colour as a pallet. His design is so distinctly different from the other egos who all look relatively like people and he has different coloured skin and different coloured hair, which just gives him a level of individuality the others don't really have.

In terms of other reasons the fact that he is not cannon is a huge contender for why I love him so much. As a character he can be anyway you want, anywhere you want, with any origin story or character trait that you want, in any relationships that you want! No matter what happens in the cannon universe or what head cannons and takes the whole community is arguing over with different interpretations of these characters, Robbie will forever be up to the author's interpretation. He can be agressive and emo and dark like the versions that @d-structive or @sambloom have, he can be cute and fluffy and clueless like robbie im @leobashi and myselfs versions. He can be a mix of both as seen in the art of him by @tracobuttons, there are endles possibilities of how to view this character and there is no wrong and right version. His not being cannon means that there is no way to do his character correctly, and he can be switched up and changed and played with to the artist/authors content!

The baseline premise of this character is also incredibly interesting with him being undead. The other egos have interesting premises but Robbie pretty much requires a made up origin story to function in this world as an undead character. Which means for every version of him that exists someone has delved into their mind and constructed a little origin story for him no matter how wacky or complicated it is everyone has a different version. He inspires people to create their own stories and their own versions of him as a character more than any other ego does. You will always have a baseline of cannon with all of the others but not with Robbie because he has no cannon so you have to make one for him which pushes people to create stories. And because people like to create original stories, most of the origins for Robbie tend to be very different and it's fun to read the different versions and interpretations people have had! it really does show our communities creativity and love for storytelling and lore building. He is a constant reminder of our communities creativity being a character and have walked in many different ways throughout the years and will continue to do so. A walking reminder of how much our wonderful community loves and cherishes artistic interpretations and storytelling.

Last of all, I just think hes pretty neat! I love him, hes my little blorbo, my little skrunkly wunkly, and because sean didnt create him, out community together did, and i made my own interpretation of him, in a way, he's mine, all mine. For me, he has been my favourite ego for years and reminds me of how long and wonderful my journey in this community has been. My online sona is based off of robbie, the pseudonym i use online is robbie, i draw lots of robbie content! I want more Robbie the zombie apreciation please, i never see enough of him anywhere anymore and it breaks my little zombie borbo loving heart.

#zombie draws #jacksepticeye #@therealjacksepticeye #robbie the zombie #jse robbie #jse community

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i-hear-a-sound · 1 year

Note

RWBY

Thank you for the ask! Here we go:

Favorite female character? Ilia Penny Pyrrha Ruby Nora(!!!!) Emerald Weiss and most of all… maria😔she’s so fucking funny i loved her energy v6. Further explanations, Ilia has an adorable design, great voice actor and decent enough representation. Nora’s timeskip design was unmatched and she’s very quotable, plus her personality reminds me of one of my close friends irl. Ruby’s struggles in V9 (until they fucked that up) really hit with me as I’d gone through something very similar, and Penny… Penny just makes me happy. What they did with her makes me angry, but Penny makes me smile. :D

Favorite male character? I got a couple but at the moment it’s tied by Sun and Roman. Sun has fun energy and Roman is himself and iconic. Others are: James is hot and so is the bad bird BF he got by being autistic. Mercury is cool for the 5 seconds of screentime he gets every volume now. Tyrian and Watts got impeccable swag and the 5 hour long make out scene between the two of them was very interesting. Adam is cathartic and fun as hell to write my little meow meow. Jaune is best when he’s just a little loser dork, and Ren is very pretty.

Favorite Volume? Surprise surprise, Volume 3. I fucking love tournament arcs. I. Love. Tournament. Arcs.

Favorite Episode? That whole Apathy Arc in V6!!! Great horror in my opinion. I wish they’d show off more creative Grimm like that again. And as a side note, V6 is just… the best looking volume.

Favorite cast member? If they count, Jeff and Casey!! SUCH good music.

Favorite ship? *cracks knuckles* Freezerburn, Catmeleon, Monochrome, Schne//ekos, Pussy Magnet Purrah, Greek fire, nuts and dolts, Bees Schnees, Khali, Spicecream, Seamonkeys, Emercury, If there’s one between Ilia and Ruby put it here, Ginger Snaps, Arctic Winter, Silver Lotus, *looks at writings on my palm* Snow pines, Ironqrow, James x Oz, Crimsun, Strawbana, Nuts and Volts, and Rosebird. To name a few. Some might not be my favorites, these are just ones I like/like in concept. :) Character I’d die defending? Sienna fucking Khan. The whole White Fang, honestly. I do think protesting through violence against your oppressors is very swag and real actually. Plus she’s hot.

A character I can’t sympathize with? Uhhhhhh…… SALEM!!!!!!!!!! Cinder too ish but Salem mostly. Like, I feel a TINY bit bad, only because the gods are undeniably awful garbage horrible terrible. She still sucks though.

A character I grew to love? …Adam. I did not give a single shit about his decently attractive redhead ass until that reveal and his death in V6. He has become my blorbo; my skrunkly. My cringefail loser, my girly pop. Engrained within my brain like a silly silly worm. He’s fun to draw. Fun to write. REALLY fun to write. I can put him in so many situations. So many bittersweet, melancholic situations. And in so many outfits.

My Anti-otp? Ive got a couple.

Bumbl//Bee. Not my thing. Could have been, had they not continually tried making “Only disabled main character losing her arm” something “romantic” as well as paralleling said character to her partner’s… um… ex abuser? Hello?

Embe//rald. Fuck Abusive ships.

Taura//donna. Fuck Abusive ships.

Frostbite. This one is actually one of my least favorite ships, as it is essentially a pairing between the ex-racist ex-heiress of a huge company to the in universe minority said company enslaved and branded while he was a child. Plus, again. Fuck. Abusive. Ships.

Ar//kos. Not… my… thing.

Winter and Marrow or Robyn and Marrow. Nope nope nope. No. Thank. You.

Etc etc etc I could go on all day. Thank you for the ask!

#rwde #guess I’ll tag it that why not

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sillyfudgemonkeys · 7 months

Note

Ngl I'm surprised you haven't said anything about Yukari yet given how you are with her and how reload made her less bitchy

H....a....ha......hahahahahahahahfjsdakfj;alfjkajfk;lakf

Slight vague spoilers (general P3/not P3R specific, tho I wish these asks were directed towards my "Silly plays P3R" blog TT0TT):

Oh....oh anon....you don't know how many times I had to stop myself from going on a rant.

Oh it's pissing me off. "But wait she's less bitchy!" That doesn't solve ANYTHING! If I'm suppose to like her despite being bitchy, then why are they making her less bitchy??? It feels like they realize that she's too rough around the edges so they should sand her down! But then that's not Yukari right? Shouldn't we love her despite that? No? Then what's the issue with people hating her being bitchy in the first place?

It feels disingenuous. Just....*inhales* Yeah P3R is reminding me of why I dropped FES the first time I played through it ohhhh boy.

But.....that was just my first reaction. Pre-Fuuka arc. She does feel a lot friendlier.....but some of the content (that feels new rather than retranslated) doesn't.......vibe well with what we know about later.

They DID NOT do a good job showcasing Yukari's discomfort with Mitsuru. Like both presentation or in the voice direction.

Like visually, if you look at the PS2 ver of the "She's too busy for us commoners" 4/20 scene you can see Yukari does NOT look happy to see Mitsuru.

Like R!Yukari's body language DOES NOT change, but in the PS2 ver we can clearly see she's......not feeling comfortable around Mitsu. (due to how P3P operates we miss out on that detail entirely, as the scene also plays out a lot faster/slightly differently but that's for a diff comparison post. This game is suppose to be remaking the original not P3P 8U)

Then it's reinforced with what she says.

The line "She's busy with the student council" type line doesn't really sound (tone wise) hostile in the JPN undub or P3R dub. But I'm guess SOMETHING hostile (either the phrasing used in Jpn, or maybe it's the tone I'm missing out on) because Junpei points it out to her. She then does sound uncomfortable in the JPN undub while trying to be like "oh no it's not like that it's just...." response line.

And in the OG eng dub we can easily hear her hostility no need to explain that. Sounds a bit bitchy but yeah. Then her discomfort in response to Junpei matches the undub's response line.

But P3R???? Her tone in the "She's busy with the student council" line DOES NOT give any type of hostility at all. This doesn't even account for the retranslation of the line (which tones it down even more).

The old line used to be "She's probably busy with things like Student Council, unlike us." and the new line now says "She's not like us. She's busy, you know? With the student council or whatever."

The original translation gave off an inherent hostility we can easily pick up on. The second one, the only flippant thing in there is "or whatever" but after it's prefaced with.....what kinda feels like her DEFENDING Mitsu. The rest of the sentence sounds like she's defending MItsu's behavior, and the "or whatever" feels more like a "and so on" rather than "tch whatever" feel.

Combine that new translation with the new voice direction/actor in P3R......the whole line just.....doesn't hit. Which isn't good because the rest of the scene continues on. Junpei calls her out on hostility, and I'm left here thinking "What hostility???? That's the hostility of a wet paper towel if I've ever seen one!"

Then her defensive response sounds more unsure, and confused (like is she aware she has issues with Mitsu????). TT0TT When in the JPN and original english it sounds more defensive, like she's trying to cover it up hastily.

(oh and this isn't even touching on the worst portraits. Were the OG P3 portraits skrunkly? Yeah. Did they provide a clear vibe tho? Yeah.)

Like is P3R Yukari SURE she's Yukari?

The answer is yeah.

She still makes the same hypocritical errors. Such as harping on eavesdropping on a bully (and then not reporting....to either a teacher or MItsu. Good job keep it up, you're really paralleling Mako here!) And only stepping up because of Junpei making fun of her over a ghost. XP

Or after Fuuka joins. She still HARPS on it so fucking much. "Are we sure she wasn't forced" I dunno Yukari. You barely put up a stink when I joined and said I didn't want to be leader at every fucking turn. Nor did you harp on Junpei joining. NOR do you really bring up feeling forced to join (which I'm pretty sure you can't say that since when you trauma dumped on me you told me you joined to find answers >_>). But yes let's bring it up every 5 seconds, say you'll drop it, then NOT drop it. Even tho Fuuka's fine with it, and literally the only option is to leave the creepy bad place alone????

(what really sticks out with Fuuka is that....she feels fine with it in the scene, doesn't look pressured and.....we really don't get a lot of scenes with Fuuka up to that point so we have NO BASIS on how she usually acts. So it really just makes it look like Yukari wants to just stir the pot for no gd reason)

Then she ropes the new girl into committing a crime, and then NOT consulting her about it before dropping that fucking bomb during a meeting (one she interrupts btw). Acts out, gets her damn answers, keeps acting out. Then suddenly apologizes, Mitsu is like "oh ok", then Yukari is in her room being like "Oh no, did my feelings not get through to her? Did I not express my emotions right?" No it's because you're acting like an asshat! TT0TT I wouldn't accept your apology either like stop it.

Then we get to the damn beach, she finds out the "truth", the Kirijou group (aka Mitsu and her dad) despite not being the actual ones to fuck the world up, still take responsibility. Give her the truth that they know, say "it's really our fault, not your dad's" and Yukari loses it. Acts out in ANOTHER meeting, throws another tantrum. Is mood swinging like a motherfucker (which I get but...), which flips from being upset, to saying horrible things, to apologizing, to saying horrible things again, and rinse repeat. Saying stuff like "I'm jealous her dad gets to live, that's kinda horrible. I'm horrible aren't I?" (man more Mako vibes? Surprised she didn't call herself scum u_u) Like damn, she's losing it. I should totally slap her, that'll make her come to her senses, no? :0 No no I really think that would be good for her. She's at her lowest we should smack her back (to the top). That's how it works.....right? >:( ("Ok ok Silly we know your still hung up on that" and I will never not be hung up on it.....moving on 8U)

The difference is that this version feels off because she just SUDDENLY gets pissy outta nowhere (like there's not a small ramp up, it's just full mania RIGHT NOW! At least the other one was as JARRING)

Voice wise, Heather is fine, it just feel like there's......some stuff missing. Michelle could be TOO bitchy at times, but even with Heather really.......smoothing out all of Yukari's flaws (awww but I thought people loved her flaws??? Why are you smoothing them out? :0) she still is.....deeply unpleasant.

I finally got Aigis (jk at Shinji now), but man.....it was rough getting there. It really reminded me why I dropped FES the first time I played TT0TT Her and Junpei are too much.

Speaking of Junpei (small side rant, but it's because he and Yukari both were wildin' at the same fucking time TT0TT). But his blow up after the Heiro/Lovers fight..........it's just so out there??? TT0TT

I get it's because everyone is praising the leader but man...... it still feels outta left field! I think it should've been placed after Priestess. The built up to that a bit better, plus he could be riding off of having just been saved and acting recklessly.

I dunno the timing just felt off. But Junpei's feels more because of the source. Yukari feels like it's because it's half source and half new voice.

(also funny reaction I had in the Shinji arc: *is morning at school gate* Yukari: Hey! So I've been thinking about Shinji Me: Stop thinking. Every time you think bull shit gets stirred just stop Yukari: Why do you think he rejoined? Me: Why are you so NOSY??? TT0TT Stop it!

The irony is if she actually was THAT NOSY like she always is maybe she could've changed something, but I guess she's just so wishy washy in what she gets nosy about???? TT0TT "I don't like spying on this guy and doing stuff behind his back" *proceeds to spy on Mitsu and do stuff behind her back*. Like she'll go balls to the walls one second, then "eh" the next???? god she's such a hypocrite.....'it's a flaw' and it's an entire person I'd avoid IRL.

But fr, the game's already SHOWED me enough info, but why does it feel the need to really try to spell it out for me??? Those scenes aren't optional what do you think I'm MISSING??? TT0TT)

What gets me is fans are like "oh you can't handle a girl that's a little bit mean" ????? Yeah I don't want to be around someone who is going to be mean to me wtf???? Why would I be nice to someone who is only going to make me feel not the best? TT0TT I already dealt with that in high school and lower I ain't doing it again skdjflkjfa

Tldr; Yukari is a hypocritic character that the game seems to not realize. She gets away with a lot of stuff, and is wishy washy on her morals. It's her way or the high way (and this gets worse in the Answer). It doesn't matter how much they try to soften op her voice she still has those faults and is a drag to be around. It doesn't matter how nice she decides to be with me, I can't help but shake the feeling she'll screw me over too. (not as much as I don't trust Junpei, but still enough for me to doubt her word every time she talks).

#silly asks #silly answers #anti-yukari #p3 salt #yukari salt #anti yukari

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notasapleasure · 2 years

Note

fanfic director's cut: only ever just one night!

ohhhh hohoho careful what you ask for my friend. But thank you <3

Only ever just one night - director's commentary meme

And while I'm here, a HUGE shout out of thanks to @weirdsociology-writes for reccing this fic!

BACKGROUND The first SW fic I've written in….five years! I've been noodling around very small fandoms since then. I mean like…under 20 fics total on ao3 for the main one (a Georgian film about gay dancers). And a 1980s band AU of a 1960s book series about a sixteenth-century Scottish mercenary where we call ourselves 'tiny fandom' for a reason. So it's both extraordinarily lovely to have so much engagement with this fic and also kind of alarming. To enumerate my alarm: (1) What if I haven't researched the world coffectly (see: misspelling 'caf' as 'kaf')? (2) What if my first fic for this fandom is my best and I have no other ideas to explore coherently? (3) What if I want to write more and it Grows Plot and I end up with just another perpetual WIP trailing its innards all over my ao3 dash? (4) What if I fluked out and wrote something people vibe with while in a trance, but my justification for my actions has bad vibes? However, I try not to cultivate shame, so Andor fandom, specifically Brassian fans: know that you are lovely and it's making Not Looking Down easier.

CONCEPT The fic ambushed me in a back-alley when I was still trying to work through what I did and didn't like about the show (having been immersed in Jyn/Cassian fic and Rogue One backstory when I last did SW fandom). But I knew that what I very much did like was that hug in Rix Road. I am an absolute sucker for second-fiddle characters who are just quietly waiting for an opportunity to fuck shit up on behalf of the skrunkly little creatures we call main characters. Thankless and loyal, competent and smart - not a himbo, but someone who's watching their friend get into trouble and rolling their sleeves up to wade in and help without being asked. The ones you trust to help you hide a body. Also for characters who seem…I don't know, too good to be true on the surface, but have deep reservoirs of potential for darker emotions. I could also have just said I like broad-shouldered black-haired guys who give the best hugs (Brasso. Irakli. Jerott.)

Anyway, I find the best way to explore the relationship between two characters I like is just to make them fuck. I'm being a bit flippant, but only a bit. Communication - spoken and unspoken - is key whether it's good or bad, and you can do a lot with a character's idea of themselves as well as their idea of the other person. It's a performance, it can be about getting a response, and there can be a lot of motives at work. So I wrote this fic to work out how I saw Cassian and Brasso's friendship through a long-term lens - the trust, but also the distance Cassian keeps. Brasso's concern for him, which is overlayed by his frustration at Cassian not telling him everything. Brasso going into these interactions with eyes wide open and still finding it worthwhile, because although Cassian never gives anyone everything he gives something of himself to Brasso that no one else gets. Cassian actually relying deeply on Brasso as a constant in the turbulent life he's made for himself and feeling something almost like guilt for letting himself rely on someone that much. But needing that little hit of stability too much not to keep coming back.

FIC

It's in the present continuous because I was possessed by brain worms and they insisted. I literally haven't written anything in that tense for years so…?

Well, I had to try to replicate that hug. Turning favoured scenes over and over with new words is a fun exercise. And while I am very eyes emoji at the idea of Luthen/Cassian I'm also into the idea of Cass having One Place he knows he can always go back to for safety and comfort without any sort of judgement, and that place being wherever Brasso is. Hence also the idea that, although Cassian claims it's for Brasso's safety that he won't say where he's been or who he's working for, there's also an element of Cassian preserving his bolt hole. If he keeps this relationship separate from the Rebellion then whenever the work he does becomes too much, he can always go somewhere that feels like away from the Rebellion. Which isn't exactly fair if Brasso might choose to be involved in the fight himself, were he given all the information. And is something I want to poke at properly if I can sort out the right kind of Macguffin for the plot I have in mind following up from this fic. It would encompass, in theory, Cassian moving from a state where his work for Luthen feels still like a kind of ownership/debt repayment/self-flagellation towards the kind of responsibility and service he treats it as by the time of Rogue One, where I don't think he has any kind of release valve or bolt hole or temporary place to escape/experience respite from The Cause.

All this is bound up with the idea that Brasso sees Cassian in a way many others on Ferrix don't. I think Maarva sees him, but she's too close to what she did and all the guilt and resentment around her just taking him from his home for that understanding to come without massive strings attached. And Bix, similarly, I think she understands Cassian perfectly well and she's made the conscious decision that That's Not For Her. For all the telling the series does about their previous relationship, the showing doesn't involve much pining (from my perspective), or inclination to get back together, just two people who know each other too well to put up with the other's bullshit. Brasso has that too, but with what the series gives us there's not the same kind of caveats to his understanding of Cassian. At least, that's how I see it.

Connected with 'although Cassian never gives anyone everything he gives something of himself to Brasso that no one else gets', I wanted to keep the two of them isolated from the other Ferrix survivors here. Cassian's in too vulnerable a place to face up to them all together - what's that trope, where a shapeshifter gets confused by being presented with too many things to change into? I think that would be Cass trying to maintain his armour around Bix and Bee as well - lying about the jobs he's doing and where he's been to them all together it too likely to leave him exposed. He can be selective with his information around Brasso, and he can tell when Brasso knows he's holding out and would rather he didn't, but Brasso's also not going to push too hard, because he knows that just gives Cassian an excuse to leave.

'Brasso merely nods - it's only ever just one night. The first time it happened he believed those words and afterwards, ablaze with memories of that one night, he had come to regret agreeing to it - he'd burned through the long sleepless hours between the first time and the second, convinced that he'd just learned what it was he truly wanted only to be denied any repeat of it. Then there had been a second 'just one night'. A third. Brasso had begun to understand that just one night actually meant something else when Cassian said it. It meant I trust you. I need you too much to ruin it by staying longer. I'll be back. I'll always need to come back.'

Of course, in trying to figure out how this would go as something established, I backed myself into a corner of wondering how it might have started - hence Counting on you (ugh I really wish I'd had the patience to think of better titles for these two fics). But I like the idea of seeing how this relationship came into being without ever really having been talked about, just changing bit by bit to incorporate more - as I was saying to @elwenyere, it's a ship of Theseus kind of deal, where both physically and emotionally they're scoping each other out and building on each encounter, as well as on the friendship they had anyway, but really it's just 'yes and-'ing each other without addressing their feelings directly.

I'll admit to taking a deliberately contrary stance to what I expected to be the default take on this ship - that Cassian would be more experienced, more likely to make the first move. I just prefer a dynamic in my ships where they're differently experienced and both invested in making the other feel good, so there's always a bit of a wrangle over who's initiating what. From the way Brasso meets Cassian's improvised alibi to the way he knows exactly where to find him with Maarva's message, I don't believe for one second this is a man who's shy about using his initiative. And like Cassian is, I think he's highly conscious of how people view him and his body and has learned to manipulate expectations around that - either to make himself seem less threatening or to do the opposite. It's something that's part of what they both get out of being together - no facade, Brasso doesn't need to make himself seem smaller or less threatening (he defaults to bumbling when confronted with Imperial patrols, it really takes a lot to get him swinging that brick on Rix Road) because Cass doesn't find him threatening, and Cassian doesn't need his sharp edges, or to make himself seem small in the way he does, too (I keep thinking of how those two Corpos talk about him in the bar in episode 1).

In the end, I think Cassian does believe he's not coming back. Whether because he won't last that long, or because he can't keep this reminder of life outside the dirty work of the Rebellion without the contrast hurting too much/compromising the armour he needs to do his work. And yes, a lot of this comes from pondering Cinta's attitude to her and Vel's relationship - again, if I manage to write more, expect them to be there and that to be part of it. So while it becomes clear to Brasso that Cassian thinks he's not coming back - in a different way from all the previous 'not coming backs', I think that catches Brasso off-guard. Because I think Brasso...wants to believe he would be more honest about how he feels if he really could grasp the idea of it being the last time he sees Cassian. He'd go all in if it was his last chance to do so. But without time to prepare? I think he's made too much of being the one who can let Cassian go (cf. Bix - he's always leaving) and that that's what lets him keep coming back. If you never give something a beginning how can you give it an ending?

A question I find myself confronted with regularly, 50k words in and utterly lost. Stay tuned?

#fic commentary #my fics #asks #director's cut meme #i just wrote you an essay....i'm sorry? you're welcome?#me: god this feels incredibly self-indulgent.#also me: THAT'S THE POINT #right?#cassian andor #brasso #brassian #andor for ts

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joelsdagger · 5 months

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talking body || one shot

masterlist | ao3 | tlou is created by a zionist and tlou2 is based on the Israeli occupation on Palestine, this article expands on that info. pls visit these links to help.

pairing: joel miller x curvy f!reader

rating: 18+ MDNI

word count: 7.5k (dear god)

summary: joel doesn’t hesitate to show you just how crazy he is about you. content warnings: jackson era, canon divergent, established relationship, unspecified age gap, (joel is late 50’s/pushing 60 & reader is whatever age you like her to be), fatphobic/misogynistic comments from a male oc, mentions of body insecurities, a little bit of jealousy (from reader), [internal] angst (feelings of guilt & shame), reader wears a form–fitting dress, joel gets handsy, body worship, pet names (sweetheart, darlin’, baby, pretty girl), brief vaginal fingering, biting, body marking, praise kink, sprinkle of degradation, 1 pussy slap, dirty talk (or as kat put it; joel miller and that FUCKING MOUTH), oral sex (f receiving), mild ass play, unprotected piv, rough sex, spanking, multiple orgasms, possessive!joel, pussy pronouns, creampie, fluff, joel just being such a sweetheart but also an absolute menace UGH, game!joel or show!joel, reader is curvy and can be interpreted as being mid/plus sized, but other than that no other physical descriptions of reader and no use of y/n.

a/n: this is completely self indulgent and i love doing shit out of spite so naturally i wrote this cuz of all the shit i’ve been seeing these past few weeks. also, this is me pushing the agenda that game!joel is a hips guy and show!joel is an ass guy, so i mixed a little bit of both in here bc i can. to everyone with thick thighs, squishy bellies, big tits, hip dips, and every thing in between i see you, i love you (so does joel), and he would fuck your brains out, he told me himself :3 thank you to my loves @skrunkly-scrimblo & @phoeberidgers for being my second and third eyes & helping my indecisive ass with the visuals (and for always putting up with me) ily both sm <3 | dividers by @saradika-graphics

oh! masterlist is coming in a few days (i’m sorry, i’ve been putting it off)

Joel’s still sitting at the table with Tommy and Maria when Dina cuts into your path as you approach the bar, you were getting refills for your table. Dina drags you along behind her to the open space where a few other Jackson residents are dancing, she points out that you still haven’t delivered on your promise to dance with her. You playfully roll your eyes as she tugs you along, you don’t really mind, you’re the type to drink and dance the night away whenever you and Joel joined your fellow Jackson residents at The Tipsy Bison, letting out all the stress and worries that had built up from days prior and tonight was one of those nights, you endured a long, shitty, fucking week.

One dance had turned into two which turned into three and very quickly you felt the overwhelming sense of heat from the lights and the alcohol running through your system warming up your body an ungodly amount. It didn’t help that the short, tight dress you were wearing was beginning to ride up your thighs and the thin fabric on your stomach clinging to your sticky skin as sweat started to pool in places you didn’t quite like.

You take advantage of the song coming to an end and spin out of the dance before someone ropes you back in, tugging the hemline of your dress down while you make your way to the bar to finally order refills for your table. As you wait for the bartender to come out from the back, you turn around to watch the rest of Jackson’s residents while they drink, dance, and laugh through the night, a smile tugs on your lips as you briefly spot Dina now dragging Ellie to the small open space. You continue glancing over the room, it was busier than usual though still expected, gatherings during the fall and winter months tended to occur more often, the cold weather gives people a reason to spend more time indoors, alcohol and loud music helps keep bodies warm and memories faded away. Nights like these are needed in Jackson.

Your gaze eventually lands on your table, seeing a tall, beautiful, dark-haired woman standing in front of Joel, you know exactly who it is…Esther. You’re not surprised, she’s been after Joel for years, completely disregarding your relationship with him. You don’t blame her, Joel’s one hell of a man but you can’t help but feel a pit in your stomach when you see a smile on his face as he cracks a laugh at her joke, she playfully smacks his arm in return and you avert your eyes to scan the crowd once again.

You know he doesn’t mean anything by it, Joel’s a gentleman, always polite and charming, he plays along as to not embarrass her.

So why does it bother you?

You feel stupid, again you can’t blame her, but then your eyes trail down her body, she’s got a few years on you but she doesn’t look it. From what you can tell, her body has remained the same since the day you met her.

Yours, on the other hand, has slightly changed to a noticeable degree, as you settled into Jackson as well as your relationship with Joel. Your breasts spill over the cups of a few older bras, you have a softer tummy that protrudes out in form–fitting clothes like right now and your thighs and ass fill your jeans out a bit more. It’s a dull feeling now, not really paying it any mind anymore, you were more aware of it at first, but occasionally, moments like this remind you of the changes in your body.

His body has deliciously changed with age; his hair now suitably silver, though the gray patches of hair spanning across his chest and down his belly don’t quite match the hair on his scalp. When he lifts his arms just enough his soft belly peeks out, perfectly protruding just above the waistband of his jeans. He’s insecure about it, his age more apparent when you’re beside him, not that he’d ever really admit that to you, but you picked up on it pretty quickly when he started opting for loose fitting button downs and jeans, but he clearly still has an effect on women.

With you it’s just….different.

Feeling the heat of a stare on you and knowing who it’s from, you glance back at Joel, your gaze landing on his face again, you can see his face more clearly now, Esther’s still talking to him, yet his attention isn’t on her, his eyes are trained on you and you’re met with an expression of hunger on his face. His eyes steadily rake down your body, feasting on the tight material clinging to your sticky skin, they pause and for a fleeting moment he fixates on your exposed thighs, his eyes trail back up to your chest, and as he lifts up the glass of whiskey he’s been nursing to his mouth, you catch his tongue poke out to lick his bottom lip, his eyes never leaving yours as he takes a long sip of his whiskey.

The faint buzz from the alcohol emboldens you and you wink back at him.

No longer giving those feelings a second thought you turn back around and try to wave down the bartender.

“Another round, please.”

“Sure thing, sweets.”

He turns away to grab your drinks, your ears perk up when you hear someone say your name, you turn your head towards the voice, noticing a few men sitting at the edge of the bar. You recognize one of them, a younger man, who happened to be your old patrol partner and your last fling.

Naturally, you eavesdrop on their conversation. Matt’s back is to you when you hear it.

“She’s not in her prime, you should’ve seen her a few years ago,” he sneers.

His words pierce through you, you know exactly what he’s getting at, it stings even when you know it shouldn’t, it festers.

A man you’re not familiar with, probably the newbie, stands further away, he opens his mouth to speak but you can’t hear what he’s saying, the music is too loud and you have to fight the urge to look directly at him so you can read his lips, but he says something that earns a few snickers out of the men surrounding him.

The shame coils and pulls taut in your stomach, twisting, pulling, scraping so tight it makes you dizzy and nauseous.

You don’t even realize your drinks had been placed on the bartop in front of you, Matt’s irritating voice cuts in and holds your attention, “Can’t believe a man like Joel is still with her. No real man can fuck women who look like that and enjoy it,” he says simply.

The shame turns to rage and your blood boils, you feel your cheeks heating up as anger bubbles in the pit of your stomach, the blinding rage looms over you and your feet move without thinking. You begin to step forward but for the second time that night your movements are interrupted, you hear her voice before she’s in front of you.

“You ditched us to grab drinks and yet we never got them,” Maria teases.

“Sorry, I got carried away,” you look away from the group of men and back at Maria, flashing her a smile, a little forced.

“Figured. Joel’s been eyeing you while you were dancing, I told him to join you but we both know he prefers admiring you,” she says, redrawing your attention by tilting her head into your line of sight.

She beckons you with a jerk of her head, “C’mon, your man gets grumpy when you’re away,” she says with a comforting smile. As the two of you grab the whiskey filled glasses, she hooks her arm through yours and walks you back to the table.

Joel pulls open your chair next to him, you sit down and silently hand him his whiskey, the anger fizzling out as soon as you’re beside him though the knot of shame still tight in the pit of your stomach. He senses something is off immediately, your behavior wildly different than twenty or so minutes before.

“Thanks, baby,” he says as he watches you intently.

“Mhm.”

You nod, shooting him a glance before averting your eyes back to a small group of residents dancing.

Tommy turns his head to ask Maria about the new patrol schedules for the upcoming week, Joel sees it as a window of opportunity, a distraction, so he throws his arm around you and tucks you into his side, just enough for you to smell the whiskey on him, he settles his palm on your stomach, his thumb starts rubbing small circles on your belly through your tight dress, “You okay, darlin’?” he whispers, his whiskey–warm breath against your ear.

“Yup. Just tired,” you say dismissively, trying to keep your voice light, hoping it doesn’t sound as pinched as your throat feels. You press a chaste kiss to the flecks of silver on his temple, attempting to sooth his worries, while internally trying to convince yourself that you’re not giving those assholes too much power over their words, even though you have, it gnaws at you so much it makes your bones itch beneath your skin.

He catches the deceit in your voice but he drops the subject, knowing not to pry in this moment, “Alright, we'll finish these and head home,” he kisses your forehead before he turns his attention back towards the conversation.

—

Joel kept on his word, the two of you leaving the gathering once you knocked back the rest of your drinks. However, finishing off your drinks meant the two of you were in a tipsy state and Joel’s insatiable when he’s got alcohol buzzing in his system. As soon as he closes the bedroom door behind him, he instantly pins you up against the door and presses his lips to yours, his mouth swallowing yours while his hands run greedily all over your body, grabbing and squeezing every part of you.

“God, you’re fuckin’ beautiful,” he says while he nuzzles his head in the deep groove of your cleavage, he nips lightly before leaving open–mouthed kisses to the exposed skin, his big hands come up to cup your breasts, your nipples peaked and hard beneath the thin fabrics of your dress and your bra.

“Fuck–” your whimper is cut off when Joel drags his lips back up to connect with yours, you hum as you taste his flavour, all oak and masculine and campfire like with a hint of spice from the whiskey. He moans as he licks his tongue into your mouth, one hand squeezes the weight of your breast while the other glides around to your back, pulling you closer. Joel always gets like this after a few drinks; it’s always heady, needy, sloppy like it is now. He kisses you with so much want and desire it makes your brain all foggy and your skin flare, forgetting the moment that threw off your mood.

That is until Joel’s hands make their way down your front, palming your tummy softly, one hand reaches under the hem of your short dress to cup your mound and the memory claws its way back to the surface, Matt’s words echo in your mind.

You tear your lips away from his and plaster on a tight smile, knowing your eyes will give you away, you stare at the scar across his nose, “Not tonight, baby,” you whisper, pressing a swift kiss to his cheek and tucking a silver curl behind his ear.

Though Joel Miller, as always, is on high alert, always studying the people around him, it’s all he’s ever known in his role of a protector. He learnt and memorized all your tells within weeks of knowing you, he doesn’t need to see your eyes to catch on, he senses the hint of sadness in the hushed tone of your voice, the same one he clocked earlier at The Tipsy Bison, he knows you’re holding back.

“Alright, sweetheart, what’s on your mind?”

You brush past him, walking away and sitting on the bed, “Nothing, I’m fine, I’m just tired,” you say a little too hurriedly, your voice too syrupy-sweet. That’s the third thing that’s tipped him off tonight. He follows you tentatively, sitting beside you placing his hands on your knees and guiding you to face him.

He assesses your face and sighs, “We’re not gonna do that. You’ve been real quiet and distant most of the night. Darlin’, talk to me,” he hooks a finger underneath your chin and gently tilts your face upwards, forcing you to look at him.

You shrug heavily, feeling stupid for letting their words sour your mood, but worse for thinking the same about yourself, when you should be grateful. Living, breathing, existing is a privilege, one that not everyone gets, something you and Joel are too familiar with, yet here you are letting dumb comments from even dumber men upset you. The same knot in your stomach from earlier pulls taut once again.

You rip your eyes away from Joel’s, not able to bring yourself to face the troubled look in his eyes. “It's just embarrassing, and I’m ashamed that I let things still get to me,” you admit defeatedly, your voice barely audible.

“Baby,” he tugs gently on your chin again, “Look at me,” he murmured.

You blink up at him, forcing yourself to look at him, tears pricking in your eyes when you see the worry line appearing in between his brows and the hues of concern in his eyes once again. He reaches up to gently cradle your face, the contact sends you over the edge and a tear cascades down your cheek, his calloused thumb swipes it away, the turmoil clear as day in his eyes, you hate that you’re the reason for the pained expression on his face.

“Tell me,” he implored, his voice pinched as he spoke.

You can feel the walls of your throat constricting and the rapid thump of your pulse right below your jaw as you swallow tightly. Just hearing the hurt in his voice should stop you, should make you drop the whole thing. You think about leaving Matt’s name out of it, just by mentioning that Matt was the one reaffirming your deep-seated insecurities will upset him alone, Joel’s hated the guy since the day he found out you fucked him but leaving his name out of it feels like you're protecting him.

That coupled with the look of worry on his face, knowing his compulsive need to do right by you but he can’t if you don’t let him, coaxes you to tell him everything.

Biting the bullet and bracing yourself for impact, you take a deep breath.

“You know that guy, Matt, that I used to….” you trail off quietly, biting your lip.

His lips downturn into a soft frown and yet he doesn’t respond, just gives you a firm nod.

You avoid his gaze, picking at the loose skin around your nail, Joel notices and grabs your hands in his. Your eyes stay transfixed on your lap, you sigh deeply, “He said, a man like you shouldn’t be with someone like me, said he doesn’t know how you can fuck me and enjoy it,” another tear spills down your cheek, recounting each of his words feels like hard punches to the gut. “And then seeing Esther hitting on you again, even though everyone knows we’re together–I know I shouldn’t let it get to me but I can’t help how I feel sometimes,” your voice quavering as you ramble admittedly.

You peer up at him under watery lashes and for a second you can practically see him fighting the urge of storming out of the house and heading back to The Tipsy Bison to find the bastard, you can see it in the flash of anger that spreads across his features, in the twitch of his jaw and the flare of his nostrils as he takes in a sharp breath.

Instead, he exhales, “Darlin’, there ain’t nothing wrong with you,” he dips his head down so his eyes meet yours, you shrug again.

“Stop that. You’re perfect honey,” you can hear the sincerity in his voice as he runs his hand along your upper thighs, now exposed as your dress rolled up from your position on the bed.

“I get it darlin’, hell one good look in the mirror n’ I wonder how a pretty thing like yourself could want an old man like me,” he huffs a quiet chuckle.

You shake your head immediately, “Joel–”

“Sweetheart, it’s okay if you need remindin’,” he interjects you, “I have no problem remindin’ you,” he asserts softly, his fingers still tracing up and down your thigh.

You frown, “I know you don’t Joel, it’s just,” you sigh a shuddering breath, feeling that familiar pang of guilt in your chest, now regretting opening up to him. The heavy stones of guilt and shame weighing you down, threatening to swallow you whole. The last thing he needed was you burdening him with your insecurities, you know him, he’ll dwell on this for days to come, checking in when he feels you pulling away.

“Lemme show you, baby,” he says while softly grabbing your hands, prying them away from your middle.

“No, Joel–” you began to protest.

“Need to see my beautiful girl,” he encourages you gently, his hands roam down and pause right below the hem of your dress but he awaits your permission.

You nod softly and lie back against the headboard, you watch his face as he carefully and slowly grabs at the skirt of your dress, shoving up the soft, red material over your waist, revealing your soft, pillowy silhouette.

He hovers over you as he takes his time palming the slopes of your curves, his big hands grab two handfuls of your breasts and squeezes them tightly, lifting the weight of them up and dropping his head down to nip at each breast, then letting them fall and marveling at the bounce of your tits. His hands find your hips, he’s sliding down the bed, just enough so his head is level with your middle, he dips his head down and presses his lips to the soft flesh, his teeth sink into your skin, sending a shiver down your spine, you involuntarily let out a soft moan.

He grips your hips more firmly, almost like you’ll disappear before him if he doesn’t, he moves his lips to your other hip and nips at your skin, “My sexy girl, fuckin’ can’t get enough of you,” he says lowly, his breath hot against your skin, you whimper softly as both of your hands find the nape of his neck. His mouth moves to the soft swell of your tummy and he nips at the supple skin right above your belly button, the coarse scruff tickles your skin and you can’t help the giggle it elicits from you.

He pulls away and peers up at you, eyes dark and full of lust, his mouth hovers over yours, “You drive me crazy, you know that, baby?” He whispers fervently against your lips, his fingers squeezing the meat of your thighs.

Your glassy eyes meet his as your hand comes up to cup his cheek, “I’m pretty crazy about you too, handsome,” you whisper, his cheeks flush pink at your words, still so bashful. He kisses the heel of your palm before patting the side of your thigh, “Turn around for me sweetheart, go on, all fours, need to see all of you,” he smirks, his eyes full of intensity as they drag down your body.

You do as he asks and move to the middle of the bed, flipping onto your knees and walking your hands out in front of you, arching your back slightly and hiking your up ass in front of him, he moans at the sight. “Good girl,” he praises softly behind you and your pussy throbs, a familiar sticky heat pools in your panties at his words. You playfully take a glance back at him, his eyes dark and half-lidded as he sits up and moves to his knees behind you, his hands run up the backs of your thighs all the way up until they meet the globe of your ass and he whistles lowly.

“Look at you, so fuckin’ perfect,” he murmurs, oggling the curve of your ass as his index finger sneaks under the lace trim of your panties, taking the material between his forefinger and his thumb and lightly skimming his fingers down the lace, “N’all for me.”

His fingers roam down to your covered slit and you let out a soft gasp, which only spurs him on, he runs his fingers along the wet spot on your panties, smirking when he feels the wetness staining your panties, the tips of his fingers dip below your clothed slit, “There's my girl. Always so fuckin’ wet for me, huh?” You hum softly in response.

The tip of his middle finger pushes past your outer lips and you bite down on your bottom lip, trying to suppress the whimper you let out. You’re already so wet, you’re always so wet and willing for him. It should embarrass you, how easy you are for him but it doesn't because it’s him and knowing how much he revels in this, in you makes that small pinch of embarrassment fade away instantly…every single time.

You risk a look at him over your shoulder as he pulls his finger back out and in one swift movement he puts his finger between his lips, quickly sucking your arousal off his finger, like it’s a mindless, habitual thing for him, like he’s sneaking a taste of his meal before he digs into it. His hands reach for the waistband sitting on your hips, pulling the lacy fabric down, marveling at the dark fabric against your skin as he slowly drags the material down your thighs, his eyes catch the opaque wetness soaking the lace while he pulls them down and he moans shamelessly.

Your eyes widen while you watch him bunch up the material and shove the lace in his back pocket and then his hand lands an affectionate smack to your ass, “Eyes forward, sweetheart.” You tear your eyes away as he brings a firm hand to the small of your back, pressing you down and deepening the arch to his liking, you instinctively drop to your forearms– so pliant and needy for him–he brings his mouth down and sinks his teeth into the lush of your ass in approval.

His hands grab your inner thighs, spreading your legs, now he has full sight of your glistening core, two thick fingers stroke through your folds, “Look at that, she’s so pretty baby. She’s droolin’ down your pretty legs,” his voice low and deep.

His words make your pussy throb, you can’t help the whine you let out, “Joel, please.”

“Please what, pretty girl, use your words,” he commands, his fingers still languidly messaging through your puffy lips, smearing your arousal all over his fingers.

“I need you, please do anything, please,” you mewl, not caring how pathetic you sound.

But still, not enough for Joel. A loud wet smack fills the room as he lays a firm slap to your cunt, your body flinches forward, the edges of your vision blurs and your aching, swollen cunt tingles and clenches at the harsh, yet welcomed contact.

He tuts, “You want my cock that bad, baby, I wanna hear you say it.”

Bastard.

“Joel please, I want your cock. I want it,” you whine and writhe beneath his firm palm.

“Okay, alright, baby, s’all I wanted to hear,” he cooes, his slick-coated fingers now soothing your folds. “I just need to taste her first,” he shifts behind you, sliding down off the bed, his knees creaking as he kneels on the floor, he pulls you back towards the edge of the bed by your thighs. He tilts his head up just enough to dig his teeth into the meat of your upper thigh, just below the curve of your ass cheek and soothes the sting with a wet kiss.

You shiver, you’re aching for him and his mouth is everywhere except for where you need him to be.

Joel’s hands come up to grab the meat of your ass, spreading you open and gently pushing you forward for better access, he brings his mouth to hungrily kiss your inner thighs, tasting the sweet, sticky slick coating your skin and a pitiful moan slips from your lips.

Joel seems to have heard it and that’s all it takes for his lips to make contact with your pussy, your breath hitches in your throat as he flattens his tongue and licks a long, slow swipe through your slicked folds, the first one always drawn out and meticulous and just for him.

You push your hips back into his face causing the tip of his nose to nuzzle into your asshole, you feel him hum in approval at your entrance. Suddenly, nothing else matters; the thick fog of insecurity, the crippling shame and guilt sitting heavy in your chest; it all melts away as a fresh wave of sensation courses through you by the warmth of his mouth on your cunt.

This was always his favorite part, seeking pleasure in you because it brings you pleasure, always doing what makes you feel good. To spread you open before him, having a perfect view of your alluring holes in front of him, just begging for him to devour away (and fill you up). He can spend hours on his knees between your legs and he has, slipping further and further elsewhere as he indulges in you, his lips relishing away at the altar in your hips.

A pressure already begins to pull taut low in your belly, you’re squirming in his grasp but his hands move to firmly grip your outer thighs, keeping you open for him and pressed flush against his eager mouth. He doesn’t go easy on you like he usually does. He fucking laves at you, devouring and savouring you like he’d never get the chance again. The vibrations from occasional muffled moans and groans against your pussy make you chant his name over and over like a prayer, even though he’s the one on his knees.

You can feel him push his tongue into your hole, fucking you with it, then he moves to swirl the tip of his tongue tightly against your puffy clit, “Oh god, Joel, fuck,” you moan out, your eyes roll back into your head as the coil inside your belly wounds up so tight every muscle in your body tenses. You start grinding your hips back into his face, he groans in response and loosens his grip on your legs, letting you take what you need from him.

He flattens his tongue against your clit before he closes his lips around it, suckling it into his mouth and moaning around it, the vibrations from his mouth makes the coil in your belly snap, and you cry out, using the sheets beneath you to stifle the noises slipping through your lips.

With his mouth still latched onto your throbbing cunt, he keeps going.

“Fuck, Joel, I can’t–” it’s too much and you’re too weak, a trembling mess on the mattress, so you attempt to close your legs but the strong grip he has on your thighs doesn’t allow you to move, it only goads him further.

He licks a thick, languid stripe through your heat all the way up until his tongue prods at the tight ring of muscle, again, your legs threaten to close but the firm grip of his hands keeps you wide open for him, he swirls his tongue in a tight circle around your puckered rim, “Joel–” your gasp is cut off by his white, hot mouth taking its place right back on your clit, not giving you any time to recover.

The tip of his tongue works small, tight circles on your clit around and around, only this time with more pressure than before and within minutes or seconds–you don’t really know at this point–you feel the pressure building in your belly and it’s growing stronger by every lick and suck from his mouth. His tongue flicks over your clit before he licks it into his mouth once more, closing his lips tightly, he gives it one last tight circle of his tongue and suckle to your clit and you break, your second orgasm crashes over you.

A choked moan escapes you, your legs quiver as they threaten to close while your hands fist the sheets beside your head, the grip he has on your thighs holds you open for him while you come all over his mouth and he laps you up, savoring, slurping, and swallowing down everything you give him.

Milliseconds pass and he shifts behind you, lost in the haze of your orgasm, you can faintly hear the popping of his knees coupled with a grunt behind you as he stands up. He leans forward, kneading your ass in his palms before bending down to lay another bite on your other cheek, this time with more fervor, leaving a mark, your skin tingles.

Joel positions himself right against your ass and places his hands on your hips again and squeezes, “I love all of ya, baby, but this right here,” he grips more firmly at the flesh on your hips again, “Fuck– these kill me,” he mumbles, almost entirely to himself.

“Joel, please, I need you inside me,” you beg and shiver in his grasp.

He stays quiet behind you, too enticed by the sight of your weeping pussy in front of him. You think you can hear the metallic clink of his belt as it drops to the floor and the buzz of the zipper of his jeans coming undone, the sounds make you clench around emptiness, Joel catches sight of it, a lustful groan slips out of him, a guttural sound from deep within his chest. You’re always so needy, so eager to be full of him and he’ll never get enough of it.

He keeps one hand on your ass, the other wrapped around his cock as he swipes it once through your folds, wetting his dick with your arousal, earning a quiet whimper from you at the sudden contact. He draws his hips back slightly and finally notches the wide head of his cock into with your awaiting hole, groaning in unison as his tip stretches you open, “Christ, always so fuckin’ tight,” spitting through his teeth.

His other hand moves to your hip to hold you in place as he sinks into you with one languid, long thrust, sliding himself in as deep as he can, he feels his tip hit resistance and his breath hitches in his throat, he stills for a moment, enthralled at the sight of his cock nestled in at the very end of you, completely bottomed out in your dripping cunt, “Fuck–there you go, pussy’s suckin’ me right in, sweetheart. This perfect fuckin’ pussy,” he grits as the grip he has on your hips tightens, his fingertips digging into the soft tenderness of your hips.

One of his hands sneaks its way to your front and he grabs your breast beneath the neckline of your dress, he kneads it and pinches your nipple between his calloused fingers, then he pulls the neckline down along with your bra, freeing your breasts from the constricting cups, he palms them roughly before leaving them to sway, all bare and heavy, “Look so goddamn perfect bent over for me like this, I wanted to fuck you in this slutty dress all night, fuckin’ couldn’t get it outta my head,” he pants heavily, his hand returns to grip your hip as he begins rocking his hips forward, “Drivin’ me fuckin’ crazy, baby.”

You curse lowly as you shift to deepen the arch in your back–you need to feel him closer–you straighten your arms out in front of you, your hands latch on to the edge of the mattress, your chest now pressed to your thighs and hiking your ass higher in the air for him, changing the angle as your body folds in on itself and earning a low groan from Joel, a sound that rumbles deep in his throat, “Sweet Jesus, that’s good, just like that baby, always so good f’me,” he’s babbling under his breath. The palm of his other hand finds the small of your back, “Tell me how it feels,” Joel grits, his voice thick and breathy as his thrusts pick up the pace.

“F–feels so good, Joel,” you sob, and it’s true, every time feels like the first time even after all these years; he had bent you over, pressed his large hand between your shoulder blades, kicked apart your legs with his knees and when his hand found the base of your neck, he pressed your face into the wooden floorboards and stretched you open, fucking you with ruthless abandon, using your body to get himself off, dulling the agonizing memories and unspeakable horrors that had forced his hand. His unforgiving pace, your face scraping along the hardwood floor, his brutal thrusts that kept your cunt sore for days on end, none of that mattered to you, in a way you were using him too, your insides just desperate and aching to be filled and all you could do was take it, your body completely succumbing to him and accepting his girth, ‘s like you were made for me, his breath hot and heavy as the words buzzed in the shell of your ear.

His deep voice breaks through the loop of ecstasy, redrawing your attention to the moment, “Takin’ my cock so well, this pussy’s so fuckin’ good, she’s so good to me,” he grits, both of his hands now keeping a bruising grip on your hips as he drives your hips back to meet his, pulling you back onto his cock, the slapping of his hips against the plush of your ass echoes loudly in the room. You press your face into the sheets as your moans grow louder while he drives his cock in and out of you, “Those men…’f they had a woman like you…fuck–they don’t deserve that,” Joel rambles gruffly in between his harsh, unrelenting thrusts, “We’ll show ‘em how a real man fucks his girl, I’ll fuckin’ show ‘em, I’ll show ‘em.”

Oh god. Sparks ignite a fire that roils low in your belly, you’ll never get used to how talkative he is while he loses himself in you.

“Oh–fuck, Joel, don’t stop, don’t stop,” your words come out choked, the flow of air to your lungs suspended as he punches himself into you, your fingers dig into the mattress in attempt to anchor yourself.

“I know, baby, I know, just take it,” he hisses through his teeth. “This tight pussy only made to take my cock, ain’t that right?”

His words are swallowed up by the obscene squelches of your cunt as it grips his cock while he slams into you. When he doesn’t get a response from you he lands a firm slap to your ass, this time with more force, your skin tingles beneath his hand, “Yes, Joel—fuck—yes–yes,” you moan breathlessly, completely lost in a dizzying haze of pleasure.

“‘S’right, she’s mine, all fuckin’ mine,” Joel snarls, his thrusts grow more aggressive, you fist the sheets beneath you–the possessiveness in his words, the firm grip on your hips pulling you back to fuck you onto his cock–slowly, you can feel the fire in your belly making its way to curl around the base of your spine.

He tightens his grip on your hips once again, you can feel his fingernails digging into your soft skin, you crane your neck to peer behind you, spotting the small indents beneath his fingertips forming on your hips, leaving more evidence of himself on your body. You know they’ll be there in the morning. A low, breathy moan slips between your lips at the thought. Your hooded eyes flicker up to his face, he looks wrecked; his gray curls cling to his forehead as a sheen of sweat covers his skin, his cheeks flushed a shade of cherry red that extends down to his neck and tanned chest, his pupils are blown out so wide they’re almost black, locked in on his length going in and out of your drippy cunt. His eyes flicker up to watch the ripple of your ass as he pummels his cock into you and it drives him over the edge.

You didn’t think he could get more relentless, yet somehow he does.

He releases the firm grip he has on your hips and slides his hands to your ass cheeks, he glides his hands over the curve of your ass and again, he brings one palm down in a harsh slap, you make a muffled sound against the sheets. His fingers span over the globe of your ass, palming your ass cheeks and grabbing them tightly, squeezing the tender flesh, he groans loudly as he pulls them apart further, splitting you open even more for him, fucking you deeper, all you can do is whimper into the mattress.

“Goddamn, you’re perfect, so fuckin’ perfect,” he rasps, his chest heaves as ragged, throaty moans escape him. Unable to stop himself, he squeezes down on your ass cheeks with more vigor as he unravels and pounds into you relentlessly, his thrusts brutal against you and the tip of his cock now punching your cervix.

You clench around him, a sign that you're close, and he reaches around your front, he presses his fingers into your very sensitive, very swollen clit and starts rubbing tight circles over the bundle of nerves, bringing you to the edge of your release.

The lick of heat sneaks its way up your spine, dispersing itself along your nerves, setting your skin on fire, “Shit, Joel, m’gonna come,” you gasp, your voice all cracked and your breath ragged, unable to breathe as your lungs search desperately for respite, a low static buzz begins to ring in your ears.

Somewhere distant in the endless loop of euphoric haze you hear his voice, deep and rough, “Come for me, need to feel this slutty pussy come on my cock.” A high-pitched moan spills from your lips, your eyes slip closed as your walls flutter and gush around him, your clit sore and throbbing beneath his fingers, your body convulsing in aftershocks as your orgasm erupts and smothers you entirely.

“There you go, attagirl, my perfect girl, comin’ all over my cock,” he talks you through the trance of your pleasure. Your pussy clenches down around his length again, bringing him to his own release and he pants, “Baby, need you to turn over—shit, m’gonna–”

In an attempt to bring yourself up on your shaky arms, you push your hips back into his, Joel hisses through his teeth in response. His hands fly to your hips, steadying himself–shitshitshit–he loses his rhythm as his own orgasm rips right through him, his thick cock pulsing and spasming inside your messy, used cunt, his frame shuddering behind you as he spills inside you. You reach an arm back behind you, grasping onto a hand that’s glued to your hip, his fingers intertwine with yours without hesitation, desperately grounding himself as he groans painfully, long and drawn out while he fucks the last of his seed into the deepest parts of you, filling you to the brim.

His entire form gives out, falling forward over you, pressing his entire weight into yours, the two of you collapse onto the bed, he drops his forehead, damp with sweat, to your back as his body goes limp over you. He exhales heavily, his warm breath against your skin sends shivers down your spine, he presses a tender kiss to the nape of your neck while his hands find your hips again, quivering as he pulls his sensitive cock out of your wasted pussy with a loud grunt, earning a lewd, wet sound once he completely pulls his length out.

Joel sits up and leans back, his hands grab your legs keeping you spread open for him, he gawks at the flutter and clench of your leaking hole as his white milky spend drools out of you and he groans, “Oh fuck me, that’s a pretty sight right there, my girl’s fucked all full o’me.”

“Shut up,” you huff a quiet laugh and shut your legs, he lays a playful slap to your ass, eliciting a tiny squeal from you. Joel stands up and strides off to the bathroom while you crawl up the bed, laying your head against the pillows, the sound of running water in the background as your eyes slip closed, sinking into the blissful haze of the afterglow.

You feel his presence returning, he wraps his hands around your knees and pulls apart your legs, spreading you wide once more and he freezes, “Fuck,” you hear him groan above you. You open your eyes, hazy and hooded, to find him standing between your legs with nothing on but a pair of loose fitting sleep pants, no underwear, a wet rag in hand, mesmerized by the slow flow of his cum dribbling out of your hole.

He’s completely forgotten what the hell he’s supposed to be doing.

“Do you need me to do it,” you tease with a small smile, a devious glint in your eyes as you look up at him.

His eyes flicker back up to meet yours, “Keep bein’ smart with me n’ I’ll stuff that pretty mouth of yours,” he quips.

You grin at him while he drags the damp cloth through your swollen sex. He taps the side of your arm lightly and you sit up, his hands grab at the material bunched around your waistline, as you lift your arms up in the air, he pulls the fabric over your head and your body shimmies its way out of it. His eyes never leave yours as his large hands reach around your back to unhook your bra, pulling the straps from your shoulders, leaving you bare as he scrunches up your clothes and the messy rag soaked in your combined releases and returns to the bathroom. You lie back down again and slip beneath the covers, the back of your head resting on one of his pillows.

Joel saunters back into the room, “Scoot,” he motions with his hand and you do, he slides in beside you and pulls the blankets up to cover your middle. As expected, he tugs you closer to him, tucking you into his side, you instantly hoist one of your legs over the top of his strong thighs, one of your hands rests over his chest, feeling the strong thump of his heart beneath your hand.

As the thick haze fades, your lips part, your voice barely above a whisper, “Thank you,” your fingers gliding over the patch of gray hair spanning across his chest, following the trail down the soft swell of his belly while his fingers softly trace down the slope of your side, fingertips following the curve of your body beneath the blankets.

He presses his lips to the top of your head and he whispers, “I’ll fuck you like that every night f’it means showin’ you how fuckin’ perfect you are.”

Your lips twitch, a hint of a smirk on your face as you press your face into his chest and hum, “Just admit you’re a dirty old man, will you?”

Joel laughs lightly but doesn’t deny it, he peers down at you with nothing but adoration and a genuine smile, “Never said I wasn’t, baby, n’ don’t act like you don’t love it.”

‘I do, and I love you,” you bring your hand up to scratch his gray beard before tilting your head up to his and press an open mouthed kiss to his lips, tasting the flavor of your pussy on his tongue, you hum into his mouth, all dazed and content.

“I love you, honey,” his other hand drags gently along the crown of your head, his thumb resting on your cheek, stroking it as he brushes his nose along your cheek. You can feel his lips turn up into a smile against your skin, “Maybe, I need to get ourselves some rings, that oughta keep ‘em away.”

You smack him lightly on his chest, “You think you’re real funny don’t you?”

He laughs, loud and deep, his perfect soft, pudgy belly jiggling beneath your knee, his fingers grazing down your back, “M’just sayin’, s’an option.”

You chuckle. “Whatever you say, Miller.”

thanks for reading xx

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