#yet lol. same dynamics mostly | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dolcecherub · 2 days ago

Text

off the record ‧͙⁺˚*･☾

♡ pairing: oscar piastri x media manager!reader

♡ tags: social media manager reader, lowkey tension, deadpan oscar, pining oscar, frustrated reader lol, happy ending, fluff

♡ yap: this was inspired by this fic here by the lovely @papayainsectorone, they wrote this dynamic so well and the smut is *chefs kiss* i was craving more build up so here's my take on it :) honestly wasn't expecting to have another fic out so soon but i'm in the writing mood, so expect maybe some smut soon lol

♡ word count: 4.6k

Being Oscar Piastri’s social media manager sounded a hell of a lot cooler on paper.

The reality? A full-time position in pure damage control and editing.

It wasn’t that Oscar was a bad guy, quite the opposite actually. He was annoyingly likable. But in an industry of personalities so polished you could see your reflections in them, Oscar was… well, Oscar. Dry-humoured, mostly straight-faced, foreign with emojis aside from the simple smiley face. Not even a golden retriever puppy in a McLaren hoodie could crack a big smile from the man.

You had tried everything and it was quite easy to say that the last few months had been hell.

You wrote him fun captions, you scheduled posts, and briefed him before interviews. And yet he would still deadpan his way through as many interactions as he possibly could, switching up your pre-written captions for three-word ones. If you were lucky, maybe he’d add a song to it.

Once, in a fatal attempt, you had practically begged Oscar to do a TikTok trend. His response?

“I’d rather crash into a barrier and get stuck in a gravel trap.”

Still, you kept at it. You filtered photos, crafted witty tweets and captions, and edited videos for TikTok, so he at least looked 20% more charming and 100% engaged. But Oscar remained the same, calm, collected, and chronically unbothered.

It drove you crazy, and some part of you was convinced Oscar found joy in riling you up, the tension spiralling between you two.

Until one day, you just…stopped.

It was after an interview in which Oscar said, “Yeah, the car was good,” followed by a few simple remarks about the overall race and the car, even though you had specifically coached him on how to highlight the team’s efforts and the new upgrades. You sat there, watching the video on your laptop, the PR director sending you questioning looks. Something in you just gave up.

If Oscar didn’t care, why should you?

This time, instead of doubling down and trying harder to fix it, you shifted gears.

You kept running the socials, kept building out the calendar, kept coordinating cross-posts with sponsors. You threw yourself into season promos for some rookies, drafted killer captions for Lando (who did, in fact, appreciate them, often adding his own flair as well). Hell, you even helped restructure the entire engagement strategy for McLaren’s YouTube account. Your inbox was still flooded, deadlines still to be met. You were still good at your job, just focusing your attention elsewhere rather than bending over backwards for Oscar.

You still gave him the essentials. Posted his podium shots with a simple caption fit for him, uploaded interview clips without the usual fun editing. You stopped chasing him for quotes and thoughts, and generally stopped fighting for moments he didn’t want to give.

And weirdly enough, it all kept going.

Oscar didn’t change, of course, the fans still adored him, his dry wit, his blank expressions, the accidental charisma of someone who didn’t try at all, or didn’t have to. People enjoyed his slightly sarcastic comments post-race, and so what if his metrics slightly dipped? It’s not like he necessarily noticed it.

You still saw him every day, still worked around him, still made space for him on the schedule, but not in your head. Not in that quiet, careful way you used to. Perhaps you had gotten too close, you reeled. No more last-minute efforts to make him sound polished, no more staying late to re-edit his posts, not when you had better things to do for people who truly cared.

And if he noticed the shift, the quiet space you left where your effort used to live, he didn’t say a word. Which, somehow, was more than enough.

✧༺♥༻∞

It was a Thursday morning, and everything had been off.

You were running late, which, truthfully, rarely happened. A sponsor call had run longer than it should’ve, your usual transportation route taking a detour you were unaware of, and your badge wouldn’t scan at the main paddock gate. By the time you finally walked through the McLaren hospitality, your hair had been haphazardly clipped up, your phone was at 3%, and your brain was somewhere between caffeine withdrawal and a full-on system crash.

You exhaled sharply, finally getting a moment to catch your breath. You pulled open the media schedule to hopefully catch up before the day truly began, your head slightly spinning as you barely noticed the figure leaning against the wall.

Oscar.

He was dressed in team gear, the orange always sitting well with his skin tone as he had a basic black ball cap on and some shorts, his bag slung over his shoulder with a hand in his pocket. He looked casual, calm.

As per usual.

His other hand held out something to you as he walked closer. A coffee cup.

You looked up at him curiously, head tilting slightly as you lowered your tablet. “What’s this?”

“Coffee,” he said simply. “Obviously.”

You eyed it, seeing your name written on the side as your jaw twitched at his tone.

“...What kind of coffee?” You asked, his eyes roaming your face.

“Extra hot. Two sugars. Oat milk and a shot of caramel.” He said like it was nothing, as if he hadn’t just recited your exact order back to you, heart stammering against your chest.

You brought your hand up, taking it from him, fingers brushing his slightly. Your jaw nearly dropped with shock. Why hadn’t he listened like this during pre-interview briefings?

It was still warm to hold, still fresh. The lid was secured the way you always preferred, double cups, the lid pressed down tight with no drips at the seam.

You searched his face for expressions, “You got this for me?” You asked, albeit a silly question.

Oscar shrugged, arms crossing against his chest, his biceps stretching the sleeves of his shirt, his eyes straying from yours. “You’re usually here earlier. Figured you didn’t have time to stop for one.” He said as if it meant nothing.

A beat passed, your heart skipping that exact beat.

You swallowed. “I didn’t.”

Another pause, your face flushing slightly.

“Thank you,” You said finally, voice far quieter than before.

He nodded, not smug, just acknowledging, as if that was the end of it. As if he hadn’t just undone a week’s worth of you convincing yourself that he didn’t notice you slipping away.

He adjusted the strap on his shoulder and added, “I wasn’t sure if it was oat or almond. Figured it was oat, you seem like it.”

You blinked, brows furrowing slightly in confusion. “Why?”

He gave you the faintest smirk, “Almond milk people always have something to prove.” He joked.

You huffed, surprised by the small, shaky breath of laughter it pulled out of you. Perhaps you did understand the population’s obsession with him.

Oscar turned to leave, no further acknowledgement, no comment on your attire or the lack of polish to your appearance this morning, no follow-up. Just the quietest moment between you two, the coffee in your hand warming your palm cozily, his smirk setting your pulse to quicken.

He didn’t look back.

Although it didn’t matter, because you were already watching him go, heart quietly pounding.

So he did notice.

Even when you thought he didn’t.

✧༺♥༻∞

A few weeks had passed, and you were getting yourself ready for the following race weekend. The past few weeks had been the same, doing more for others to keep yourself while keeping Oscar entertained with the bare minimum.

Now, it started with a headache.

Then came the chills, the sore throat, the kind of fatigue that sank into your bones like wet cement, weighing you down impossibly. You told yourself it was nothing, stress maybe, but by the time the race weekend rolled around, you couldn’t even sit up without your head spinning.

You did what you had to. You called in sick, feeling bad, although you had not done so before while working with the team.

Just one day, you told yourself. Just one race day. The team could surely handle it, you had pre-scheduled most of the posts anyway, as well as sending over any notes and ideas you had to the rest of the team to follow. And it wasn’t like Oscar would notice. He barely spoke to you when you were there anyway.

So you stayed in your hotel room, curtains drawn, laptop closed, and haphazardly thrown onto the armchair next to the bed. You had wrapped yourself in two blankets, your body settled with a chill that wouldn’t leave. You drifted in and out of sleep, vaguely aware of your phone buzzing a few times, your body far too sleepy to pay attention, let alone respond.

Around 6 p.m., there was a knock on the door.

You blinked, trying to figure out if it was in your room or a distant noise in the hall. You felt your stomach clench, mostly empty aside from a few pieces of toast from earlier in the afternoon and water.

Another knock sounded on the door. Firmer this time, followed by silence.

You dragged yourself up, wincing as the floor spun. You brushed your hair down slightly and wiped away any sleep from your eyes, your body shivering from the sudden chill after emerging from your blankets. You cracked the door open slowly, expecting the hotel staff, perhaps with a message from the team or even room service.

It was neither.

Oscar stood in front of you, simply dressed in a quarter zip and some jeans, his hair slightly tousled. He still looked calm, a medium sized brown paper bag in one hand and a plastic container in the other. You froze, so did he, though only for a second, just enough to make you think he hadn’t expected you to actually open the door.

“Hi,” you croaked, your throat aching and sore, raw from not speaking all day.

“You’ve sure seen better days, hm?,” he asked rhetorically, face deadpan.

You raised a brow, now feeling slightly embarrassed at the state he was seeing you in as you shamefully brushed your messy hair down as well as possible. “Thanks…”

“I meant it in a supportive way.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning against the doorway, suddenly feeling fairly light headed again, simply too tired to question what the hell was going on. “Why are you here?”

He shifted the bag in his hand, fixing his grip, eyes not meeting yours. “You didn’t show up today. You don’t not show up.”

You swallowed sorely, “I texted the team, told them I was sick.”

“Yeah,” he said, tone quiet, “but you didn’t text me.”

That shut you up.

Oscar cleared his throat, holding out the plastic container filled with soup. “It’s the one you always get when it’s cold, the one from the random organic store down the street. You know, the one with the weird green logo.”

Your chest tightened, his eyes trailing back up to yours.

“And I brought some ginger tea bags. And the gummy vitamins you always hoard in the media van.”

You stared at the bag in his hand, and then back up at him, his eyes dark, cheeks slightly pink, surely from being in the sun all day. “You walked across the paddock to get those?”

“They deliver. I’m not that heroic.” He joked. You knew as a matter of fact that they didn’t deliver, you had most definitely asked more than once before, but you supposed Oscar didn’t want to admit that he had done that for you.

You exhaled a half-laugh, quiet, slightly painful and unsteady.

Oscar looked at you, no smirk, no blank stare. Just something softer, eyes relaxed, something he could barely hold back.

“Can I come in?” he asked after a pause, “Just to make sure you don’t choke on soup or something.” He teased.

You stepped aside, far too tired to joke and too tired to pretend like you didn’t want to be taken care of.

He stepped in, toeing off his shoes, then settling the soup and the bag on the table tucked in the hotel corner. You crawled back into bed, body immediately collapsing into the fluffed sheets as you sniffled.

He walked around filling the room’s small kettle with some water before putting it to boil and opening up the soup container before bringing it and a spoon to the bedside table. You sleepily watched him quietly move around the room with a sense of ease, your heart aching at his actions. Hearing the kettle click, he grabbed a mug, opened up the tea bag case and popped one in before pouring in some water. Settling that beside you on the table, too, he finally glanced at you.

“Come on, sit up. At least eat some of the soup before you fall asleep,” Oscar spoke, voice soft and convincing as he settled down into the armchair next to the bed, making sure to move your laptop before sitting.

Pushing yourself up, you sat against the headboard, head spinning again. He passed you the soup, simply watching you eat as much as you could without feeling sick. Neither of you said anything, Oscar simply ensuring you were okay, passing you a napkin whenever you needed it.

Placing the empty container down on the bedside table, you wiped your sleeve across your mouth before sliding back down into bed. Oscar stood up, adjusting the blanket around your shoulders when you shifted with a wince as your eyes fluttered shut. His fingers brushed over your arm as he did, then simply brushing a few hairs off your forehead, your body shivering, not from the chill this time but rather from his touch.

“I’m fine,” you spoke, voice extremely rough but quiet.

He didn’t say anything. Just sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, hands now folded in his lap, his eyes flickering between you and the headboard as if he was doing anything to stop himself from looking at you for too long.

You were the one to break the silence, eyes still shut. “You didn’t have to come.”

“I know,” he said. You felt your breath catch for a second, mind drifting slowly to sleep.

“Thank you, Osc.” You mumbled quietly, words slurring from fatigue.

He hadn’t said anything after that. And so what if his gaze lingered a bit too long before he left that night? You would be none the wiser, head misty with sleep.

✧༺♥༻∞

Weeks later, at the start of a triple header, everything felt back to normal. Too normal. It grated your nerves more than ever.

Oscar was back to his usual self, low-effort captions, brushing off most interview questions with short answers, and ignoring half of your content ideas. After you had thought you’d made at least some progress, you found yourself rubbing your temple in frustration after he refused to film a “Pre-race ritual” TikTok a few sponsors had requested.

You found him in the garage, talking to a mechanic, most likely about race strats. If only he spoke to the media with such enthusiasm. You walked towards him angrily, your tablet hanging at your fingertips, face flushed with anger.

“Oscar, may I speak with you, please?” You asked, tone stern and straight to the point.

His brows knitted together with confusion, the mechanic patting his arm twice before walking away. He tilted his head, following behind you as you led him to a meeting room. You closed the door, setting the tablet down on the desk before turning back to face Oscar, arms crossing angrily against your chest. You leaned back against the desk, staring him down momentarily before speaking.

“Why do you make this so hard?” You huffed, voice cracking slightly. You hate that it cracked.

“Make what hard?” He asked, mirroring your body language.

“This!” You said waving your arms around for emphasis. “Your image, your career. I bust my ass trying to make you look even remotely engaged in sponsorships and media day, and yet you act like you’re allergic to enthusiasm.” You ramble exasperatedly, catching your breath before you continue. “And then- then you go and do these little things, like buying me coffee or taking care of me when I’m sick. I’m not stupid Oscar, I know you’re not oblivious. You notice things, you care. But you pretend like you don’t and it’s… infuriating.”

He was quiet, not blinking, eyes still holding your gaze. He walked closer, rubbing a frustrated hand over his face before returning to his crossed-arm position, just now closer to you. Your heart pounded at his proximity.

The silence between you was heavy, suffocating almost.

“I don’t let people see it because once they do, they expect more. They expect a reaction every time a little blip happens. And I’m not good at more.”

You stared up at him, lips parted slightly.

“I didn’t grow up under the impression of needing to be liked.” He spoke, eyes searching yours. “I wanted to drive. I wanted to win. But now, I’ve got people picking apart every expression, every quote, hell everything I don’t say. And you-you come into my life like this force to be reckoned with. You clean up my messes, making me look far better than I am. And it terrifies me.” He admitted truthfully.

He exhaled as though he hadn’t meant to say that last part, but it was too late now.

“You make me want to try. Even though I don’t know how. And I hate that I let you do everything alone, I’m sorry I don’t cooperate more. I hate that I don’t say thank you when I should. I hate that I barely show what I feel because I’m scared that once I do, it’ll matter too much. That people will always want that, and I won’t be able to deliver.” Oscar spoke frantically.

Your breath caught, heart aching for being mean to him originally. “Oscar…”

He continued, “I noticed when you stopped trying so hard,” He admitted, voice softer as he took a step closer. “And it scared the shit out of me because I thought that meant you were done. That I had pushed you too far. And if I lost you…I don’t know what I’d do.”

And for the first time, you felt as though Oscar hadn’t just meant in terms of work.

You stood still, heart hammering against your ribs.

He stepped forward once more, practically caging you against the desk and himself.

“I brought you coffee because I know you can barely function without it in the morning. I remember your order because you complained about the barista using a shot of vanilla instead of caramel once. I remember you like it extra hot because it keeps your hands warm while you’re out. I brought you soup because I know you hate being alone when you’re sick. I pay attention, even if I don’t always know what to say, but I do care, okay? Far more than I’ve let on.” He expressed, eyes fluttering across your face. “Maybe more than I should.” He confessed quietly, cheeks lightly flushing.

You stared at him, awestruck. The boy who never flinched on track, now looking completely exposed.

You reached a hand towards him, pulling them away from his chest and placing them next to you on the desk, his body leaning slightly forward.

And in a quiet, breaking voice, you said, “Then say it, tell me.” You plead.

His eyes didn’t leave yours.

“I care about you,” his voice hoarse with emotion. “Not just because you make my life easier, even if I don’t make yours any easier,” he joked with a sarcastic huff before continuing. “Not just because you’re brilliant at your job. Because I care about you. And I think I’ve been falling for you since the day you yelled at me for skipping media day.”

The silence returned, your body flushing at the confession and your breath hitched slightly.

“You make me want to be better. Not just for the press. For you. Because when you’re around, I don’t feel like some machine for the media to chew up and spit out. I feel like maybe I’m someone worth showing up for.” He confessed, arms encaging you against the desk as his head leaned down slightly.

Then quieter, “I know I’ve been difficult. I don’t say enough, but I’m saying it now. I care, I care about you. I want you here. Not because you fix things, but because I love having you around.” He reiterated, you felt as though you hadn’t spoken in ages, none of the right words coming to mind.

Your throat tightened.

And suddenly, the frustration, the exhaustion, the weeks worth of wondering if he even noticed you slipping away, all cracked away and spilled into something else.

A knock on the door interrupted your moment as you broke away. He took a step back, head whipping towards the door as your breath caught up to you.

Work awaited you.

✧༺♥༻∞

Days had passed, the paddock was winding down for the night.

You had migrated from your desk to one of the couches in the corner of the hospitality unit, half-heartedly editing clips from Oscar’s earlier media rounds to hopefully post the following morning. Your headphones sat around your neck, untouched. The screen glowed, but your eyes glazed over somewhere between the third and fourth timestamp.

You hadn’t talked about the confession since it happened, but your mind kept drifting back to him. The look on his face and the way his voice sounded.

You’d both gone back to work like professionals. He gave more thoughtful answers during interviews. You polished his media presence like always, job slightly easier nowadays. But under every interaction with him sat this new charged silence, one that said something happened and neither of you had figured out what it meant yet.

Then came a quiet knock from the doorframe.

Oscar.

He wasn’t in race gear anymore, not even team gear, just a hoodie, slightly damp at the sleeves, his hair tousled from his post-session shower. He looked…normal, cozy if you would. Not a headline, or a race statistic, or a social media puzzle for people to pick apart.

Just him.

“You busy?” He asked, walking closer anyway.

“A little,” you blinked, watching him intently.

He stepped closer, sitting on the couch across from you, silent for a moment, before wordlessly placing a bag on the table between you, sliding it towards you.

Your brows furrowed curiously, “What is this?”

“Some takeout, I figured you hadn’t eaten in a while since most places on the track are closed by now. It’s the fried rice you like and some of those weird seaweed chips you eat when you’re stressed.” He explained, cheeks flushing slightly pink.

You paused, still in awe of the fact that he noticed. “You remembered.” you spoke, leaning forward to untie the bag and pulling out the bag of chips, a soft smile crossing your face.

He didn’t look at you, eyes wandering the room. “It wasn’t hard.”

Your chest tightened.

You pushed your laptop aside, slowly looking at him. There was something in the way his shoulders tensed, the slight crease in his brow. As though he was trying to say something without saying it too fast, or too wrong.

“Oscar-”

“I keep thinking about what you said. About how you care and how I didn’t give you anything back.” He swallowed thickly. Your breath caught but you stayed quiet.

He looked up at you then, and for once he didn’t look guarded or sarcastic. He looked nervous.

“I kept thinking if I acted like I didn’t need anyone, I couldn’t lose anything. But I think maybe I lost a little bit of you already, and fuck, I don’t want to keep doing that.”

You felt your eyes sting unexpectedly as you blinked quickly.

“I don’t expect you to fix me up or stay just because I suddenly decided to show up. But I meant it all. I care. About all of it, about you. I was worried if I said the wrong thing, I’d ruin the only good thing I actually gave a shit about.”

“I’ve been trying to show it,” he went on, voice tighter now. “In the ways I can, but I don’t know if it’s enough. And it’s driving me fucking insane wondering if I’ve missed my chance”

Your heart beat a little too loudly in your chest.

He ran a stressed hand through his hair, “I keep thinking about how close I could’ve been to losing you. It’s not just about work, it never has been.” His eyes met yours, raw and serious. “It’s you. I don’t want to go through another race weekend without knowing if you’re mine. If this thing between us is real or if I’ve just been imagining it.”

The room went still.

You stood slowly, every nerve in your body on fire, the air between you wound so tight it could snap.

“You didn’t miss your chance,” you said, your voice barely a breath. You walked towards him, now standing next to him sat on the couch, within arm’s reach.

A pause, his jaw clenching as though something had finally broken.

He reached for you, pulling you closer with a hand on your waist as he stood up. Oscar towered over you now, arms snaking around you comfortably as your hands came up to rest on his chest.

He leaned down, breath fanning your face as his nose nudged yours. Then, he kissed you. Lips landing on yours like they had waited months.

Tension bled out of both of you like a flood. His mouth was warm and searching, far too much restraint pent up as his teeth gnashed teasingly against your bottom lip. You stood slightly on your tiptoes to reach him better, a hand sliding up from his chest into his hair, tugging lightly as he groaned.

It was far from perfect, you stumbled slightly unbalanced as his hands shook against your hip, but it was real. Honest and a little desperate. You slid your tongue against Oscar’s lip, his own poking out to meet yours. He licked into your mouth, hand tightening against your hip as you whined.

You pulled back slightly, nose still pressed against his breathlessly, his forehead resting against yours.

“I’ve wanted to do that since my second week on the job,” You admitted, lips curling into a smile.

He huffed a soft laugh. “Took me that long to stop pretending I didn’t”

You smiled, brushing your fingers along the curve of his neck, lightly scratching the hair at the nape of his neck as he shivered. “So what now?”

“Now I stop pretending, full stop.” He spoke, no hesitation. “And I get to flirt with my media manager.” He joked, a small smirk settling on his face.

You giggled softly, feeling the weight of that promise, simple and sincere, You leaned into him, body warming at his words.

“Let me take you home,” He spoke softly, mouth near your ear as he whispered as if trying to keep it a secret between you two.

You shuddered at his words, biting your lip before facing him again. You nodded slowly at him, eyes lighting with excitement. He smiled at you sweetly, placing another small kiss on your lips before letting you go to pack up.

Everything seemed to be exactly where it was meant to be, and you felt your heart settle happily at how the night turned out.

✧༺♥༻∞

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mountainsandmayhem · 7 months ago

Text

BDSMaid - Chapter 6

Series Summary: After recently graduating you take what is supposed to be a job to save money before you go back to university to get your law degree. Your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. Easy. Simple. Mundane. Until one of your clients is home and everything you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love.

CW: 18+ MDNI. In order to avoid spoilers, all tags are under the cut in small red lettering. Reader does have some body descriptions so more of an oc than female reader.

AN: I don't think I understood the term "labour of love" until right now. I'm emotionally exhausted yet so fucking proud at the same time. Thank you @lotusbxtch for fixing all my grammar and formatting. I also couldn't of done this without @mermaidgirl30 , @littlevenicebitch69, @alltheirdamn, and @for-a-longlongtime (even if you did just try to distract me with Santi the entire time LOL)

Word Count: 14.6k (sorry, grab a snack or two)

Series Masterlist | My Masterlist | AO3

CW: use of petnames, mention of losing a spouse, mentions of child abuse (mostly verbal), use of nick names (baby, sweet girl, etc.), dirty talk, spanking, sexual activity in public, kissing, protected p in v, oral (female receiving), consumption of alcohol, mutual pining, mentions of falling in love, Dom/sub dynamics.

You: 911, I need to go buy a dress, but ya’ll can’t ask me what it’s for Laren: no strings attached shopping? Fuck yeah! You: I’m serious though Laren: Dude, I won’t ask you as long as you don’t ask about the hickey on my neck Jamie: Damn, my dad’s in California so I can’t leave the office. You: hmm…maybe we just tell each other one secret each Laren: oh sorry, forgot I have to vacuum my cat today, can’t shop You: fine, no asking about the hickey. Pick you up at noon? Jamie: Have fun. I need a sugar daddy. Odette: booo! I’m studying. Someone alert me when we learn about the hickey.

You

Laren’s jaw drops as you step out of the dressing room, the soft silk of the floor length black gown skims against your body. Your eyes trail down the thin straps along your shoulders and down the deep v that sits low on your sternum. You’ve never appreciated your small breasts until now. The risque cut has a soft and romantic feel. Somehow, so does the long slit up your one leg, stopping much higher than most black tie venues would find acceptable. You spin to take in the way the silk dips low on your back. Yeah, Joel Miller is going to love this.

“You look stunning. I’m not gonna ask, but whoever you’re wearing that for is going to fall in love with you. I might fall in love with you.”

You laugh at her, watching as she tugs the collar of her sweater up to cover the very prominent purple hickey on her pulse point. If only she knew how ridiculous that statement really was. Joel Miller, your dom, falling in love with you. It’s impossible.

The big box that you stuffed the small, pink and bedazzled box in snickers in your mind then taunts you in her uppity British accent. He loves you, remember how he held your hand so tenderly through that last orgasm? “It’s a date”, “It’s only you”.

You shake your head and run your hands down your torso and hips, the silk feeling like water under your hands.

“Wow, that dress was made for you.” The peppy store clerk says as she rounds the corner to the dressing room. “Oh! I have just the accessory, if you don’t mind me showing you?”

You nod and then look over at Laren through the mirror. The two of you haven’t been friends for that long, but it doesn’t take a genius to realize she’s not wearing her massive engagement ring, plus that giant love bite; something is off. “I’m not gonna ask about the hickey, but are you ok?”

“Ya - I’m fine, why?” Her phone goes off in her purse for what feels like the hundredth time since you picked her up. She hasn’t looked at it once and this newest alert doesn’t change that.

“No reason. I’m here for you though. I hope you know that.” The corners of her mouth lift, but that vivacious sparkle in her eye doesn’t make an appearance.

You spend longer than you ever had getting ready on Friday. You’ve shaved, exfoliated and moisturized every inch of your skin. You painted your fingers and toes with a fresh coat of pearly white polish, noticing that the skin around your cuticles on your hands isn’t picked clean. For the first time in your life, your anxiety hasn’t needed its usual outlet; picking and pushing at your nails until they’re clean. Even with the last few days kicking your ass, Mister Miller made it better, made you better.

After about three hours, you’ve completed the look: big loose curls, one side pinned behind one ear with a gold clip, exposing the soft slope of your neck that Joel loves to press his lips to. You’ve opted for a neutral glam look; a light smokey grey eye, flirty lashes, a touch of blush and highlighter and a nude lip.

You keep the jewelry simple, just thin gold hoop earrings and two dainty golden chains, the accessories that the sales girl picked out. The first chain is the longest; one end loops tight to your throat then lays down your sternum, a small clip on the other end holds it in place to the lacy black thong you bought for the occasion. The second chain wraps around your exposed thigh. A few small crystals dangle off the garter. It feels perfect for a sex club, almost like you’re being tied up in gold.

After wrapping the gift you bought for Joel today you debate taping the dress in place. It’s a sex club, surely a nip slip isn’t the worst thing that can happen. However, Joel would probably forcefully remove anyone who got a peek. As tempting as it is to witness that, you decide to save his sanity for one more day and after placing the last piece of tape you hear the rev of his engine coming down your street. Butterflies erupt in your stomach, it’s been weeks since you’ve heard that sound. That deep rumble will probably always fill you with an excited anticipation of seeing Mister Miller.

You agreed to let him pick you up tonight since Odette is out. You slip your perfectly pedicured toes into black heeled sandals, working the small golden buckle around the ankle quickly as Joel’s shiny black Jag parks in front of your building. You watch from the window as he gets out of the driver's side door, flowers wrapped in brown paper clutched in his hand. A man that size doesn’t look like he’d fit in that sleek sports car.

Even from your birdseye view from the fourth floor he looks absolutely gorgeous. You’re sure once he’s right in front of you he’ll be devastatingly handsome, especially once he’s added the gift you got him. Similar to you, he’s in all black tonight.

The beep of his car locking and the buzz of your door go at the same time and you excitedly hit the button to let him up. It feels like hours before there’s a light knock on your front door. After a shaky breath, you open the door.

Fuuuuuck me, you think as you take him in and actively stop yourself from drooling.

He looks as hot as sin dressed in all black, the lapels of the jacket and the tie slightly silky against the flat black of the rest of his clothing. He’s the living, breathing epitome of JMKink right now. Dressed like that matte black letterhead he still leaves you notes on when you clean for him. You lick your lips as your eyes trail back up his tie. Fuck, you want him to wrap it around your wrists.

He steps into your front entrance and the apartment feels so much smaller; almost like he takes up every bit of space and simultaneously sucks all the air out of you. His hair is parted to the side, trimmed neatly around his ears, curls perfectly placed. You’re sure it was effortless on his part, just running his fingers through it after getting out of the shower, towel wrapped low on his hips. Your mouth waters as you continue to just stare at one another.

Joel

“Wow,” he finally manages to rasp. His throat feels like it's full of sand all of a sudden. He clears it gently before continuing. “You look…you’re always beautiful, but you are…”

His eyes travel up and down your body again, he’s feeling lost for words which is not something that happens to him often. He watches your bottom lip slip between your teeth, waiting for him to form a thought.

“Sorry, sweet girl, I need a second here.” He places the bouquet of wildflowers on the small table at the entry then reaches out towards you. He actually feels like he might die if he doesn’t kiss you soon. The whorls and calluses of his fingers drag down the warm, soft skin of your arm gently before he closes his hand around yours. Usually, he loves how small your hand looks in his, but he’s finding it impossibly hard to break eye contact with you right now. As he steps in closely you smile sweetly at him and he’s surrounded by the smell of mint, lavender and something distinctly you. “You look life-alteringly gorgeous. I’m not sure if that’s a word, but wow, Freckles.”

You place your free hand on his chest and he’s sure you can feel how hard his heart is pounding behind his chest. Fuck, he wouldn’t be surprised if you could hear his heart at this point. He cups your face with his other hand and presses his lips to yours, reveling in the way you melt into him, parting your lips and letting him deepen the kiss. He swallows the quiet moan that you make just for him. You pull away too quickly for him, an excited smile across your face.

“I got you something!” You spin and he’s left breathless again by the low back of the dress and the way the silk skirt sways with your hips.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says, following you into the living area of your small apartment. “I don’t want you spending your money on me, sweetheart.”

You spin again and his cock twitches as he catches just how high the slit of the skirt is, and the golden jewelry wrapped around your thigh. In your hands is a large, light brown box tied with a black ribbon. “Technically, I spent your money on you,” you say with a wink. “Open it.”

He steps in close, watching your face go from excited to downright giddy as he pulls at the ribbon. He slips the lid off the box and stares down at the exact same black Stetson that he sent with Tiffany. His heart stops beating as the memories, both good and bad, flood through him. This is the same hat he wore the night he met her, the night of their first date, the night he told her he loved her for the first time, the night he married her. Joel Miller doesn’t believe in signs from the universe, but this? This is something.

No, he thinks as emotions start to clog his throat. This was Tiffany.

He blinks away the tears that threaten to form behind his eyes and whispers your name. “Thank you, sweetheart. I - I used to have a hat just like this.”

When he looks back at you your brows are furrowed together, a genuine curiosity across your face. “Used to?”

He clears his throat again, “Yea, it’s complicated, but this - this means more to me than you could ever know.”

He slips his hands into the box, the felt of the brim spreads a warm comfort up his hands and forearms. He swallows hard as he realizes it’s the same comfort he feels when he has you in his arms.

Oh my god…I think, no, I know. I love you.

It hits him so hard that he has to clutch the hat tighter in his hands to ground himself as he pulls it from the box. He knew he was falling, he knew the second he saw you. He can’t push it down anymore.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped, Joel.”

He turns the hat over in his hands, the black satin liner exactly like his old one. He looks up at you, no longer able to stop the smile or the tears that flood his lash line. Your lips part as your eyes dance around his.

“No, baby, you didn’t. I’ve, well, I’ve been really missing this hat lately.”

“You gonna try it on, cowboy?” The sultry flirtiness of your voice feels sweet on his skin and after a shallow breath he brings the hat up to his head. As the satin slips over his hair a calm confidence washes over him. His eyes meet yours and your flirty smile turns shy as you blush under his gaze. He’s whole again.

“So?”

“I’m gonna have to fight the women off, I think.” You say softly.

He laughs, moving the box from your hands back to the table and then cradling your face in his hands. “I’ll only be looking at one woman, my sweet girl.” His lips meet yours gently, your tongue swiping softly against his lip as your slant into the kiss.

I love you.

You

You weren’t sure what kind of reaction you’d get from Joel giving him the hat, but his eyes welling up and his breathing getting all shaky was not what you expected. Something about that hat called to you when you saw it. When you picked it up, the soft felt against your palms reminded you of how it feels to be in Joel’s hands.

He breaks the kiss with a sigh and glances around your apartment. Months ago you would have felt shy or self conscious about Joel in your space, so wholly different from his, but he has never judged you for anything, and you feel yourself becoming more and more comfortable with him which is not a feeling you’re used to. His eyes fall to the scratched wooden coffee table that you got for free from Craigslist.

“You have college letters,” he says proudly, looking back at you.

Your arms cross across your body subconsciously, like they’re trying to shield you from the possibility of being rejected again. “Ya, the last two came today. I’ll open them later.”

“Baby, let's open them! It could be good news.”

He looks so goddamn handsome, in a suit that probably costs more than the entire contents of your apartment and his new black Stetson hat. His expression is encouraging, that same look from his kitchen when you ate some toast; prideful and empathetic.

“I’m scared,” you almost blurt, wishing you could be smoother with this man. “I don’t want to ruin tonight. If these are both no’s, I don’t know how great of company I’ll be tonight.”

“Freckles, I’m not going to force you into anything you don’t want. But I think you’ll be thinking of the letters either way.”

“Ah, my consent stands even for mail,” you joke.

“Well, it's a federal offense to open someone else's mail so…” Joel winks and flashes a devastating smile your way.

“Ok,” you close your eyes and take a deep breath. He’s right, you’ll be wondering all night what those letters say, and Joel has a way of making you forget, making you feel understood, important and cared for. “Do it.”

As if he’s a child on Christmas morning and you just gave him the ok, he snatches up the University of Austin and Berkeley letters, almost vibrating as he says, “Which one first?”

You start to pace the few steps of your living room, wringing your hands together as your heels click on the cheap laminate hardwood. “Austin, I’ll be less upset by a no from them.”

The tear of the envelope sounds like a dagger to the ribs as you go to grab the flowers Joel brought for you, desperate for something to do besides stand there.

“It’s a thick envelope..” Joel says as he slides the letter out.

“Ya, I’ve learned that that doesn’t mean shit,” You say sardonically.

Joel laughs in surprise, “Always shocks me to hear that pretty little mouth swear.”

“Yea?” You ask, “Open the fucking letter, you’re killing me.”

Joel snorts as his strong fingers gingerly fold open the letter. His eyes shoot to yours, “You got in!”

“W-What?” You drop the flowers on the counter top and cover your mouth.

“Sweet girl, you got in. I’m - I’m so fucking proud of you.”

You stand frozen on the spot. It’s not the school you wanted, you want Berkeley, but it doesn’t matter what that letter says now, because either way, you’re going to be a lawyer.

“Oh my god,” you breathe as Joel's arms pull you in for a tight hug.

“Congratulations, baby girl.” His lips press to hair and you start to laugh. “What’s so funny?”

You both part from the hug as you fight to stop tears of pure joy from ruining your makeup. “It’s just…you know, for a second there I actually thought that I wasn’t smart enough. Me? I have a 4.0, I graduated early, I’ve been top of my class for years and I actually thought that I wouldn’t get in.”

Joel's eyes dance, a big smile across his face as he watches you fill a vase. “Open the other one.”

He keeps his eyes on you as he opens the next letter. As he folds open the thick eggshell coloured paper you plunge the flowers into the cold water, his face drops and you prepare yourself for the worst, “You got in. Baby, you - you got in.”

You - Four Years Prior

“So what? You think that getting into your fancy university in Texas means you can just leave Arizona whenever you please? Your mom needs you, you can’t just leave.” Your dad is in his patchwork recliner, a beer in his hand despite it being nine in the morning. The hot June morning heating the small house to an uncomfortable stifle.

“I’ve contributed as much as I can, dad. Two months from now I’m not going to have any time to myself. I deserve some time doing what I want.”

Your dad snorts, legs slamming the leg rest down on the recliner. “You’re an ungrateful little bitch, aren’t you?”

That should sting, it would to anyone else, but you’ve been called every name possible by your father. You see him now for what he truly is, a loser. He can’t hold a job, hasn’t been able to for years. When you were younger, you thought you were the apple of his eye. He’d show up to every school function, every award ceremony, all the little things. You were eight when you realized he didn’t even speak to you at those functions, just walked around bragging about how he was the reason you’ve achieved whatever you were being celebrated over. It was his time to shine, his award, not yours.

“I’m going,” you say, hoisting your duffle bag of clothing over your shoulder. You’ve always wanted to go back to California. You went once with your mother when you were nine or ten, and the minute you got to the beach and felt the warm sand between your toes everything went quiet. It’s called out to you ever since.

As you spin towards the front door you hear the groan of your dad standing up. Fear spikes in your veins, your heart slamming in your ribs. He’s never hit you, but with the redness of his face as he called you names this morning you wouldn’t put it past him.

“Like fuck you are!” He bellows as a hard object strikes the back of your head, followed by warm liquid soaking through the back of your t-shirt.

One of your hands cups the back of your head as you bolt towards your recently purchased, and slightly rusted, SUV. “Get back in here right now you little cunt! You stole money from me for that vehicle, didn’t you?”

You can’t help but laugh as you get in the front seat. You don’t bother locking the doors, you know he’s barely out the front door without looking. He’s not strong enough, and definitely too drunk, to overpower you. You throw the vehicle into reverse and yell out the window, “You don’t have any money for me to steal, Doug!”

You hit his first name hard, knowing damn well how much it will enrage him. You drive away without looking back, and you only stop once for gas for the next ten hours.

The sun is setting as you reach the motel in Newport Beach. You head straight for the beach, kicking off your sandals and letting your feet sink into the cool sand. Your phone vibrates in your pocket, “Mom” across the screen in bold letters.

“Hi,” you say sheepishly, still feeling like a child even though you aren’t.

“Get our ass home, right fucking now. You’re supposed to be contributing to this family and somehow you had enough money to buy a car? And a trip to California? Mark my words, young lady. If you don’t walk back through that door by this time tomorrow, I will come there and get you myself!”

A lump forms in your throat. You’ve spent your whole childhood trying to get them to see you. Contributing? None of your friends had to contribute, they all got to be kids. You’re going to be making a lot of money as a lawyer one day, and they can go fuck themselves if they think they’re getting a single penny of that money.

“I’m afraid I won’t be doing that, mother.”

“You’re in for a rude fucking awakening, little girl. Just because you were the smartest person here, does not mean you’ll be the smartest person anywhere else. The world is going to chew you up and spit you out, and your father and I will not be here to fix you.”

“I don’t see how that’s any different than now. Good bye.”

You hang up before she can respond and look out over the water. The sun is setting in a kaleidoscope of peaches, marigolds and lavenders. You block your parents' numbers before snapping a picture of the sunset and setting it as your background. A sense of calm washes over you as the waves crash along the shore. You walk towards the water and dip your feet in, the water washing away the last eighteen years of your life. You’re free.

You - Present Day

A whispered ‘holy shit’ is all you can muster as realization washes over you. Your dream school - and you got in. You can go to the beach and listen to the ocean, feel the sand under your feet. You can feel as free as you did almost four years ago. You lock eyes with Joel. Can you really leave him?

“I can’t believe I got in. To two schools. I’m going to be a lawyer.” Excitement floods your body. You can worry about deciding later, even though deep down you already know what you're going to choose. Right now, you can just be happy and proud. He reaches a hand out to you and you step into the living room to take it. He pulls you in, wrapping you in his strong arms.

“I know I said this already, but I am so god damn proud of you, sweet girl. No one deserves this more than you. I want to celebrate this with you soon, please?”

“Well,” you say with a hint of mischief, pulling back to look at him, “We are going to be at the club.”

His eyes flash with something you’ve never seen before. “Ya - the club.”

“Oh my god. We’re late, Joel!” You push out of his hold. This is his big night, his five year anniversary of owning his club.

“Baby, stop,” he pulls you into his arms again and cups your face. “I don’t care. Just let me kiss you until you need to reapply that lipstick, and then we can go.” His lips crash passionately into yours. “I’m so fucking proud of you, sweet girl,” he gasps between kisses.

Joel wasn’t lying. He really did kiss you until your lips were swollen and you had to touch up not only your lipstick but the bit of highlighter on your nose; he also needed to participate, taking one of your makeup wipes to his nose, chin and lips before opening the door to his Jag for you and speeding off to the club.

Upon entering the club, the two of you were separated almost immediately. Joel was whisked away to the stage where he, Tommy and who you assume is Tess are now. The stage is lit up as he gives a speech and thanks everyone. A glass of champagne is handed to you as you stand along the edge of the bar. Everyone claps and as he tries to make his way back to you is pulled into a handshake from a very wealthy looking older man. You smile into your glass of expensive pink champagne as the woman from the stage approaches you.

“Hi! I’m sorry for having to steal him the moment you two walked in.” She extends a perfectly manicured hand out to you. “I’m Tess.”

You go to introduce yourself and she cuts you off as she continues. “Oh, I know who you are. Joel will probably kill me, but we have all been very interested to meet you.��

“All?” you say, swallowing nervously.

She shrugs. “No one has ever seen him this, hmm, this relaxed before. He’s usually here or across the street barking orders. You don’t become as successful as him without a little stress, but since you came along he seems different. Happy.”

You blush, watching him engrossed in a new conversation, his eyes often meeting yours across the room. “Look,” Tess says, stepping closer and lowering her voice. “I hang around the Millers way too often and I could really use some girl talk. Is that ok?”

“Tess, if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s girl talk.” You smile at her and then turn to the bartender. “Two tequila shots, please!”

She takes a breath, looking at Joel and then back at you. “I’m just going to cut right to the chase. I didn’t think I’d live to see the day where Joel wore a black cowboy hat again.”

You raise an eyebrow at Tess, this could be your chance to get an explanation around his response. You know you weren’t imagining his eyes getting glassy, and he did say it means more to him than he could ever tell you. “I got him that hat.”

Tess’s jaw drops and panic rises in your chest. “What? Why? What’s wrong with the hat?”

“Tequila first,” she says as the shots slide across the shiny black marble bar top. A shiver racks through Tess after she swallows, you don’t flinch. “I don’t know if it’s my place…”

“It’s girl talk, he’ll never know.” You state, sucking at the lime. Tess clears her throat and motions to the bartender for another round. The next time she speaks it’s a hushed, sad voice, just barely above a whisper.

“He, umm - well, he had a hat just like that growing up. Wore it all the time actually. He had it on the night he met Tiffany, and pretty much every important day in his life since then. Their first date, their wedding. Shit, I’m pretty sure there’s a picture of Sarah as a newborn in that hat. He also wore it the last time he held her.” Her voice trails off and heartbreak for her friend lines her features. “He…she loved it so much that he sent it with her.”

You swallow hard and glance past Tess’s shoulder to Joel across the club. The moments of time between each of your heartbeats are filled by memories of his reaction. Tess continues, “Look, maybe you're like Joel. Maybe you don’t believe in astronomy or signs from the universe, but I don’t think you finding that hat was a coincidence.”

You aren’t like Joel; you do believe in signs. You thought you were going crazy when you found that hat today. It literally called to you from inside the store. It wasn’t on display in the window. No, you heard someone call your name behind you and when you looked over your shoulder the hat was all you could see. Could that voice have been from the wife he lost too early? You catch Joel’s gaze across the room; something about him, even before you knew him, comforted you. As your mind starts running through the depth of what that hat means to him he winks, you think you might be falling for him.

All of this means something. It has to mean something. Right?

“Girl talk stays between us?” You ask shyly.

“Absolutely!” Tess exclaims, you like her more and more and can see yourself being very good friends with her, even if she is almost twice your age.

“Tequila first,” you say in the same way she did earlier.

She clicks her glass against yours and then on the bar top before slamming the shot back. “I hate tequila,” she rasps while sucking the lime.

“I can’t talk to my girlfriends about this. I don’t know if you know how me and Joel met, but one of my best friends is sort of my boss and I would get fired from my job for knowing him.” Tess nods, and orders you both a glass of what you’re sure is very expensive rosé. “Sometimes Joel says things that make me feel like maybe we are more than a sub and a dom, but that’s ridiculous, right? It’s the heat of the moment.”

“Babe, do you know how long Joel has been doing this?” She asks gently.

You shake your head and take a sip of your wine.

“Years…at one point, being a dom was how he made money. He’s a professional.”

Her words feel like a lead weight in the pit of your stomach, bile starts to burn at your throat. The whiplash of thinking he’s falling, and knowing that you are, and now dealing with this is almost too much. Joel has moved onto a conversation with yet another guest. “Right, he’s good. He’s supposed to make me feel wanted. I think I’m just not used to someone being there.”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Tess’s hand comes to grab yours, squeezing reassuringly. “Professional doms don’t say things in the heat of the moment. They don’t give false hopes. If he’s calling you his or struggling to follow limits, that’s Joel speaking, not his dom alter ego.”

The silence after her words is thick between you. He doesn’t say things in the heat of the moment? You swallow the lead weight that’s made its way from your stomach to your throat, your mind racing through all the things Joel has said to you. My sweet girl. It’s a date. It’s only you.

“Hey,” Tess says, shaking your hand to bring you back. “This DJ sucks, should we go take over the booth?”

You smile, grateful not only for her words of wisdom but now the way she’s able to stop you from spiraling. “Yes, this is a club AND a friday afterall!”

She smiles at you mischievously as she reaches over the bar for the bottle of rosé and then links arms with you as you both practically skip to the booth. “Owning a club is so fun, I recommend everyone try it,” she proclaims through a laugh.

When you reach the booth she waltzes right up to the DJ, “We need dancing music, it’s Friday, it’s a club, and it’s a fucking party!”

“Sorry, Tess. I can’t do that. Joel wanted background music only.” The DJ, who barely looks old enough to be in a club says, his eyes wandering to the low cut of your dress. A few months ago you probably would have been endeared by that look, but you have a real man now. A real man who loves you, says the sparkling box of feelings.

Tess snorts and then tuts at the poor guy. “Joel won’t appreciate you ogling what belongs to him like that. So play Best Friend by Saweetie or I’ll be sure to let him know.”

His eyes snap back to his booth set up, one hand held up in defeat, the other pushing a few buttons and then turning the volume dial up. You and Tess laugh, taking sips straight from the bottle as you move to the dance floor. This is what you need, a friend to help you dissect what’s been happening. A friend who understands the dom and sub relationship, but more importantly, understands Joel. Does him having feelings change how you feel about university? You’ve always seen yourself going to Berkeley, that’s been the dream, but now?

Maybe you should just end this now before your feelings grow too far out of control. The box of feelings laughs. You have no idea how deep you are in this, do you?

Joel

I’m gonna kill that little shit. Frustration rolls through his body as the music grows louder and as he turns to shoot daggers at the DJ he sees you and Tess. Your beautiful face is lit up in a large smile as you sip directly from a $400 bottle of rosé. His anger dissipates as you move your body with a sexy sway, lost in the music.

Joel moves towards the bar, never taking his eyes off of you. Your arms stretch over your head as you shake your ass, the slit of your dress exposing your soft thigh. His palm tingles at the thought of how good you feel against him. The smooth warmth of your leg against the rough calluses of his fingers.

I love you.

Joel orders a whiskey and then walks towards the edge of the dance floor, his free hand tucked into the pocket of his pants as he watches you. As the song changes your eyes find him and you crook a finger at him, when he shakes his head you stick your bottom lip out and give him big doe eyes. He shakes his head again as Tess hands you the half drank bottle of wine. The pink tone of the wine casts a romantic glow across your exposed chest as you take a small sip. His cock stirs to life in his pants, remembering how those lips felt wrapped around him. He shakes his head at you again and takes a long pull from his drink. You stick your tongue out at him and spin away from him, wiggling your hips while glancing over your shoulder.

I fucking love you.

You spin back towards him and crook your finger at him again, mouthing ‘please?’. He stays rooted to the spot. Joel doesn’t dance, especially not to this kind of music. His heart flutters as you start to walk over to him, everything moves in slow motion, the sexy way your dress clings to your hips with each movement, the flash of your thigh, the slight bounce of your breasts with each step. It feels like hours have passed by the time you stop in front of him.

“Please come dance with me.” You say, fluttering your lashes slightly.

He grabs the expensive bottle of wine from you and places it on the tall table beside him. “This is very expensive wine.”

“That was Tess’s doing,” you smile.

“I’m sure it was, because you’re my good girl, aren’t you?” His hand strokes your cheek and he clocks the goosebumps that rise on your skin.

“Please come dance, Mister Miller?”

“I don’t dance, sweet girl.”

You pout again and he wants to suck that perfect bottom lip between his teeth so badly. “What if you just stand there and I dance around you?”

One day he’s going to have to learn how to say no to you, but today won’t be that day. He takes the last sip from his glass and puts it beside the wine. You bounce excitedly on the balls of your feet as he holds a hand out to you. You lead the way, the dance floor now full of people, heading back towards Tess. Joel’s hands come to your hips as you grind against him for the last few bars of the song.

A slow twang of guitar starts off the next song. Joel spins you to face him. “This I can dance to.” He whispers, pulling you in close, one hand low on your back, the other holding yours to his heart.

You smile up at him, “Full of surprises, aren’t you, sweet cheeks?”

At this angle the brim of his hat blocks out everything except for you; not that he needs something to block out the rest of the world when he’s around you. I love you.

“For the right woman I can be, freckles.” He says warmly as you melt into his body.

The two of you continue to dance in a comfortable silence. He watches your lips as your tongue glides across them and just as he’s about to lean in and taste you you speak. “I don’t think I said this yet tonight, but congratulations. This is a huge accomplishment and I’m so proud of you and grateful that you brought me into this space. I hope it’s not too bold, but this has done exactly as I hoped. I feel - freer almost, if that makes sense.”

“Good,” his lips press to your forehead. “And thank you.”

Your neck cranes forward, towards the tangled mess of your hands against his chest. Your lips pressing to the knuckle of his thumb. The gesture shoots straight to his heart.

“I’ve been feeling a bit bad though. You’ve had to go to two events for me this week.” You go to protest but he cuts you off. “What would you be doing tonight if it wasn’t for this?”

You hum in thought. “Any bar where there’s an open mic night or a local band.”

“That so? Do you participate in the open mic?”

“No, absolutely not, but I enjoy music and watching people do things they’re passionate about.”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “Let’s go then.”

“What?”

“Let’s go. I’ve said thank you to all the VIP’s. Let's go do your thing.”

You

“Can we do that?” You ask, trying not to let the smile that’s pulling at your cheeks win.

Joel laughs quietly. “It’s my party, I can do what I want. They can all stay, but the longer I stay here the more I’m going to be pulled away. And you’re the only person at this party that I want to talk to.”

That’s Joel speaking, not his dom alter ego.

The boulder is growing in your throat again as you croak, “We’re dressed awfully fancy for a local bar.”

Joel smiles down at you, his eyes soft. You start memorizing every detail of his face. Everything surrounding the two of you went fuzzy the second he pulled you into his arms. This man, dressed in all black, blurs the edges of everything around you, sucking you in and making you feel like the only person he sees. The slow country song that you didn’t even hear starts to come to end. “I don’t care. Any more concerns?”

He doesn’t care, he’ll never care, he just wants to be with you. The box of feelings that's grown exponentially over this evening inches its way out of the shadows, and you can’t deny it anymore.

You’re falling in love with Joel Miller.

“Let’s go,” you say, excitement replacing the lump in your throat.

Joel wastes no time, peeling your bodies apart and pulling you towards the exit. He doesn’t look back as Tommy calls his name, only stopping at the front desk to grab your purse. You feel giddy, almost as if the two of you are doing something wrong. He opens the car door for you and then hops into the driver's seat. You pull out your phone, ignoring him as he comments on your cracked screen being a hazard, and check for open mic nights, finding one in a small bar just a few streets over.

The bar is small, about ten tables crammed together and then a few stools along the bartop. The stage is only big enough for one person, a few guitars on stands, a stool, and the mic stand. The lighting is low, different neon signs above the bar doing the majority of the work. You’re way overdressed and the looks you get from the packed bar further prove it.

Joel pulls you through the crowd towards the bar. You were feeling slightly tipsy dancing with Tess, but there is something so sobering about being pulled into Joel's arms. And now that you’ve realized you’re falling in love with him, his next question is very welcome.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“Yes, please.” You smile sweetly, plastering your front to Joel’s side as he squeezes into the bar. “I’ll just have whatever you’re having.”

“Two old fashioneds,” he says deeply to the bartender. You stifle a giggle, “What?”

“You just give me so much ammunition sometimes.”

He swats at your ass and then squeezes, not caring who may or may not see. It’s exhilarating getting to just be yourselves away from the club and you have a feeling you’ll quickly become addicted to this. “Mighty thin ice, baby.”

The raspy voiced woman with crazy curly hair finishes her set as Joel pays for the drinks. It appears that most of the crowd was here to see her, a few tables free up and the place doesn’t feel so crowded. The MC for the night gets back onto the stage.

“Alright, if anyone else wants to show us what they’ve got tonight I’ll be by the bar.” There’s a few cheers and some clapping as the bar empties out drastically, only about twenty people are left. Joel pulls out a chair for you and then sits beside you.

“Thank you for the drink,” you say, bringing the liquid to your lips and taking a small sip. The warmth of it heats all the way down to your belly, a familiar feeling when you’re around Joel.

“Of course,” he nods, sipping his. “So? Do you come here often?”

You laugh, leaning forward on your arms, noticing the way Joel’s eyes bounce from your face to your breasts; now pushed together for him. “What a line! But no, I have never been here. I kinda like it though.”

The MC’s voice fills the room, welcoming a brave soul to the stage. A tall man in cowboy boots and a shiny buckle joins the stage, carefully picking a guitar from the rack before he begins singing. You can tell by the warmth along the side of your face that Joel is watching you and not the man on the stage.

“He’s pretty good,” you say, looking back towards Joel. It’s almost unfair how he can still look so sexy in the neon glow of the lights above the bar.

“Mediocre,” he says with a scoff and sips his drink.

You glance around, “Ok, well you listen to this mediocre man, I’m going to find the washroom.”

You feel Joel’s eyes on your back as you walk away. The gender neutral bathroom is surprisingly clean and you giggle to yourself at the interaction you had once Joel was no longer looking at you. You try to act natural as you head back to the table, sitting down and smiling at Joel.

His eyebrow arches, “What did you do?”

God you hate how well he knows you. There’s no hiding anything from this man. Regardless, you stifle the fit of giggles that are right on the tip of your tongue, “Nothing! I had to pee. Is that not allowed?”

You raise your glass to your lips, trying to hide the smile as the MC heads back up to the stage. “You did something bad, I can tell.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have another performer tonight. Please welcome to the stage Joel Sweet Cheeks Miller.”

Joel shoots a teasing glare at you as you start hollering, “Woo! Sweet cheeks!!” You clap your hands loudly. He lets out a sigh, pushing himself up and then grabbing his drink before heading to the stage.

He steps up, running his fingers over the guitars before choosing a black acoustic. He puts his Old Fashioned on the stool and loops the guitar over his head. Your body reacts in a way you didn’t think it would. Fire erupts on your belly, you take a sip of your drink to try to put it out but the heat of the liquor only makes it worse. He adjusts the knobs on the guitar after hitting the strings a few times and then looks up at you and crooks two fingers, calling you to him. You obey, practically floating to the man you’re falling in love with.

Joel bends at the hip, taking his cowboy hat off and placing it on your head. His voice is a gravel filled whisper as he says, “I’m going to spank that pretty little ass of yours in that washroom you were looking for after this.”

“Yes, Mister Miller.” You rasp.

He stands back up, and clears his throat before starting. “This is, well, this is the largest audience I’ve ever played in front of so, go easy on me.”

His hand pushes back the few curls that have fallen onto this forehead before he strums at the guitar.

If I ever were to lose you I’d surely lose myself

His voice is like stepping into a hot bath, full of warmth and comfort.

Everything I’ve found here I’ve not found by myself

He doesn’t break eye contact with you, only glancing away occasionally when he moves his fingers along the cords.

Try and sometimes you’ll succeed To make this man of me All my stole missing parts I’ve no need for anymore

You stare up at him, lips slightly parted, as everything falls into place.

And I believe And I believe ‘cause I can see Our future days Days of you and me

You could go to Berkeley and do great, probably middle of the pack, but you’d reach your goals. You’d become a lawyer and leave school with a handful of job offers. Or…you could stay. You could stay and be the top of your class here. You could stay and continue being with Joel.

Back when I was feeling broken I focused on a prayer You came deep as any ocean Did something out there hear?

The box of feelings starts to vibrate, making it almost impossible to breathe.

All the complexities and games No one wins, but somehow they still played All the missing crooked hearts They may die, but in us they live on

You’re staying. You’re going to the University of Texas at Austin School of Law.

And I believe And I believe ‘cause I can see Our future days Days of you and me

And just like that, the box of feelings explodes like one of those worms in a can of fake peanuts.

When hurricanes and cyclones raged When winds turned dirt to dust When floods they came, the tides they raise Even closer, became us

This wasn’t part of your plan, but you can’t let this go.

And all the promises at sundown I meant them like the rest

You hear his voice, ‘It’s only you, sweet girl’ and ‘your consent is the most important thing to me.’

All the demons used to come ‘round I’m grateful, now they’ve left.

‘Does it look like I own things that aren’t perfect’, ‘tell me, tell me you’re perfect’.

So persistent in my ways Hey, angel, I’m am here to stay

‘I’m here for you’.

No resistance, no alarms Please, this is just too good to be gone

You’re not falling in love. No, you’re already so madly, deeply, insanely in love with this man that it hurts and feels amazing all at the same time.

And I believe And I believe ‘cause I can see Our future days Days of you and me

You suck in a breath for what feels like the first time since he started singing, your chest practically heaving at the release of emotion you’re experiencing.

You and me It’s just, you and me

You’re not sure if people are clapping, you can’t hear anything over your own voice in your head screaming out ‘I love you’ over and over again. Joel hops off the stage, his eye flashing onyx as he growls, “punishment time, my sweet girl.”

Joel

The way your eyes sparkled as he sang and the way you’re following him now, your warm fingers laced in his as he pulled you gently to the bathroom, almost have him convinced that you feel the same way he does.

He locks the door, then jiggles the handle to make sure it’s secure. He’s shared subs with other men and women, he’s used the rooms for people to watch at the club; fuck, one time he even made one sub kneel completely naked at his feet while he sat at the bar of the club. But someone seeing you, something that is all his, ignites a protectiveness that he’s only ever felt for two other women.

You giggle mischievously as he steps close, plucking his hat off your head and placing it back on his. “What did I say I was going to do to you, baby?”

He watches your bottom lip disappear between your teeth before you say, “You were going to spank me.”

He spins you roughly by your hips, pulling your back flush to his chest before walking you over the pedestal style sink. He watches in the mirror at the tell tale signs of your building arousal. Your cheeks flush, the pink creeping down your neck and exposed chest. He sees the way your eyes glass over, cock drunk before even getting it. Joel loves how easy you are to turn on, loves even more that it’s just for him.

No, I just love her.

He stops, the soft light above the mirror lighting the two of you up in yellow glow. The small bathroom is clean, but dark. White and black checkered floor with white walls; hopefully thick walls, but he has ways to keep you quiet while he punishes you.

His lips come to the exposed side of your neck, hovering just above where he can see your pulse quickening. He hears the hitch of your breath as he inhales your lavender scent. He slips into full dominant mode, keeping his voice a deep growling whisper, “Hands on the edges of the sink, sweet girl.”

You obey him without hesitation, leaning forward and wrapping your hands around the shiny white sink. His eyes lock on yours through the mirror as he fists the soft silk of your skirt. His palms tingle at the thought of getting to feel you soon and his cock jumps at the thought of your heart-shaped ass being pink with his handprints.

As the skirt crawls to be just above your knees he says, “How many should you get for that little stunt?”

He watches the goosebumps that spread across your skin. “Five?” Your voice is sweet and innocent with the ask.

The skirt starts to hike up higher, the long slit could give him easy access, but he’s playing a role right now, and he knows that the anticipation makes it better so much better for his sub. “Not much of a lesson in five. How about ten.”

It’s not a question and he knows you know it. He’d be lying though if he said he didn’t want to see if you’d fight him just a little bit. Brat taming is not his thing; granted neither is spanking a sub he’s fallen in love with in a bathroom of a dingy bar while wearing a six thousand dollar suit.

A shiver runs through your body as he exposes your ass. The lacy black thong sends his thoughts into overdrive. God damn, what I wouldn’t give to fuck this woman, just once.

“Do I have your consent to spank you ten times?”

You nod, “Yes, Mister Miller.”

He takes one of your wrists in his hand and brings it back to hold your skirt up and then repositions himself to be beside you instead of behind you. He takes you in, bent over with your ass exposed, pupils blown out. Your chest rises and falls with shallow, shaky breaths. He’s going to have to keep you quiet.

A hand clamps around your lips and your eyes widen. “If you want me to stop, drop the skirt. Got it?”

You nod into his palm as the first slap fills the room. Your skin is soft and warm under his touch as he makes contact again. By the third strike, his hand around your mouth muffles a squeal. The fourth spank lands on your other cheek and a quiet husky moan rumbles against your lips and his palm.

“You’re supposed to be my sweet girl,” he taunts as another loud slap fills the room. He’s been watching you in the mirror the entire time, enjoying the way you try to keep eye contact; but now, at the halfway mark of your spanking, your eyes are hooded with need. He looks down your ass, grinding his hips into your side at the sight of his bright red handprints tattooed on your cheeks. “Fuck, you look so good all marked up.”

He spanks you again watching the jiggle of your ass and how it ripples down your leg. Your back arches as you whimper quietly. “Atta girl,” he says proudly, smiling to himself. “Three more.”

Joel administers the last three spankings quickly, two on one cheek and one on the other. The sound of his palm on your flesh goes straight to his cock each time, he’s practically rutting into your hip bone to relieve some of the ache. He’s given a lot of spankings in his time as a dom and his body has never reacted this way. I’m so goddamn in love with her, I should keep spanking her for making me feel like that, but if I don’t taste her right now I’m going to go insane.

His hand grabs your skirt while his other drops from your face. Your breaths come in fast, like you just ran a marathon. He guides you to stand and then spins you around, a hiss leaves your lips, “It’s cold,” you whisper, making eye contact with him.

He takes his hat off and places it on your head before kneeling down in front of you.

You

The cool porcelain soothes the delicious burn along your ass, but the burn quickly spreads through your body as the man you’ve realized you’re in love with kneels in front of you. His voice has an edge of desperation as he says, “I need to taste you, please baby.”

What is he doing to me? He has to know what he’s doing to you, right? Did he mean the lyrics of that song or is it just the only song he knows? However, at this moment, you’re just as desperate for him.

“Yes,” you nod frantically as you speak, “Mister Miller. Please.’

His mouth connects with your lace covered cunt. Licking over the thin fabric, teasing you with light but mind numbing pressure. Joel Miller always looks good, tall and broad, tanned skin that crinkles slightly around his eyes when he smiles, but when he’s on his knees in front of you it ignites something low in your belly. His curly dark hair is soft to the touch and you bring your hand to his scalp now. He groans at the feeling of your hands on him and continues to lick at your clit through your panties.

The black cowboy hat falls over your eyes, your other hand raises to hold it out of the way. Even with the decision to stay here for law school, you don’t want to miss a second of the salacious acts playing out right in front of you.

“Oh god, Mister Miller,” you whisper, trying to stay as quiet as possible.

He moves to kiss at your thigh, hooking a finger around the gusset of your soaked lace. “This fucking garter, sweet girl. Been drivin’ me crazy all night,” he growls between kisses.

He pulls your panties to the side and your nipples harden under your dress as the cool air hits your throbbing pussy. “Fuck,” he practically whimpers. “You smell so good. Taste so good, too.”

His mouth latches around your clit, sucking it between his lips and everything goes fuzzy as the burn in your lower belly starts to spread. “Ohgodohgood, f-fuck.”

The tip of his tongue flicks against your swollen aching clit with each suck and you start to panic over how you’re going to keep quiet while you come. One of his fingers that pulls your thong out of the way teases at your entrance, gathering your arousal, before he pushes it inside of you to the first knuckle. He looks up at you, eyes flushed onyx as he swallows down everything you give him.

“Mister Miller,” you hum as he pushes his forefinger the rest of the way in. When he curls it forward you release the grip on his salt and pepper curls and clamp your hand around your mouth.

He pulls away, a dimple carving out his cheek as he smirks. “Feels that good?” He flicks gently at your clit and you moan in agreement into your hand. “Good fuckin’ girl.”

Joel sucks your clit back into his mouth, pumping his thick finger against the spongy spot that makes you melt and the heat bursts into tingling pleasure as your orgasm washes over you. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you fight to keep quiet, grinding your hips unabashedly against Joel’s face. He’s relentless with his ministrations and you bite at your palm as another wave rolls through you.

The spasms of your pussy around his finger slow and you’re finally composed enough to drop your hand, grabbing his shoulder as your knees threaten to give out. Joel slips his finger out from you, placing light, lingering kisses on your mound before standing. His hands find your hips, holding you steady.

“Kiss me,” you slur, feeling drunk off the pleasure.

Your arms loop around his neck as he kisses you. His lips taste like you and you lick at the heady sweetness. You slant your head, kissing him deeper. His body goes soft, relaxing into the kiss. You could do this with him forever, and for once it’s not the box of feelings saying that. The contents of that box have coated your entire brain with the love it housed for the man you’re not even supposed to know exists. The two of you break apart, both panting for air. You break the silence first.

“Take me to the club.”

“We can’t go back there. I’ll just get sucked back into the crowd.” His nose runs up and down yours, dark chocolate brown eyes never leaving yours.

“I need more, Mister Miller. Please, take me.”

“Shit,” he huffs. “Come with me.”

Joel

This is so incredibly stupid, he thinks as he pulls into his neighborhood. The moment the two of you got back into his car you leaned over onto his shoulder and closed your eyes. He should take you to your apartment. You must be exhausted from all the studying and working you’ve been doing. Plus, he kept you out late for two nights. He pulls up onto his driveway, and the slight bump from the curb causes you to stir. He parks in the driveway and watches as you blink and register where you are.

“I can take you home if you want.”

“No, I want to be with you.” Your eyes widen and you start to do that thing where you ramble, only to dig yourself deeper.

Joel chuckles and then leans forward, pressing your lips to your forehead to stop you. “I knew what you meant, baby girl.”

He gets out of the car and then comes around to open your door. When you left the bar tonight you tried to open your door, again, and he scolded you gently. He smiles to himself that you’ve listened finally, that or you’re just too tired and he should really be taking you home. But when he helps you out of the car and meets your gaze again you look anything but tired. Need and arousal flood his system as he takes you in, lips slightly parted and eyes dancing around his face. Your words from the bathroom ring in his ears. I need more, Mister Miller.

He snaps, lips slamming against yours, your hands immediately finding the curls at the nape of his neck; the only hair you can reach because of the cowboy hat still proudly perched on top of his head. He lifts you, moaning at the feeling of your toned thighs wrapping around his waist. He moves on instinct, closing the car door and walking into the house while the two of you fervently kiss in a mix of tongue and teeth. You nip at his bottom lip as he walks into the marble foyer. He closes the garage entry door and presses you against it, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth, His cock is painfully hard behind his pants.

“I need you,” you whine after your lip is free from his mouth.

“What do you need?”

You kiss at his neck, hands moving to loosen his tie. “I need you to fuck me, please, Mister Miller.”

I love you.

He keeps you pinned to the door, his one hand grabbing yours and pinning them above your head. How many times is he going to have you in the position, fighting against what you’re begging for? Hopefully, it never stops.

“My sweet girl, you know I can’t do that.” It physically hurts him to turn you down.

You pout at him before speaking, “Then just be naked with me, I need to feel your skin on mine. Please?”

He kisses you again and starts to move the two of you towards the stairs. Between kisses, he says, “What happened to that shy girl who couldn’t even tell me she wanted me to dominate her?”

You laugh against his lips, “She’s been corrupted.”

“I’m a bad man,” he hums with a laugh and walks up the stairs with you plastered to his chest; one hand around the globes of your ass, the other tucking your head into his neck so he can see where he’s stepping. The moment you reach the top of the stairs he pulls your face back to his to kiss you again.

“This is where it happened,” you say, as he passes the office.

“Where what happened?” He says, pulling back to look at you, his eyebrows draw in in confusion and the black Stetson he forgot he was wearing falls forward slightly. You take the hat off his head, looking at him all wide-eyed and amused.

“The corruption,” you say with a wink. Joel snorts in response and then his lips are back on yours. He has missed having this mix of passion and humour with someone.

When he passes over the threshold of his bedroom he places you on your feet. He told himself he wouldn’t ever have you here. No, not told, promised, because he knew what having here would mean. But you made him fall in love with you anyway. The air in the bedroom feels thicker, and his breathing quickens as he looks at you. The only light that trickles in is from the hallway. He takes in your sparkling eyes, your lips, puffy from his kisses and light nips; the perfect curls of your hair are slightly dishevelled and truthfully - he has never found you more beautiful.

I love you.

You

Butterflies assault your stomach as you stare at Joel. He takes the hat from you and tosses it gently on the foot of the bed behind you. The room is deafeningly silent, only the sounds of both of your quickened breathing and thundering heartbeats fill the void. You stand frozen, the heels of your strappy black sandals sinking into the plush carpet of his bedroom. You remember when you carried his sheets to the washing machine just a few weeks ago, being surrounded by the delicious scents of ash and leather. You had no idea who Joel was then, the man in this house was just a fantasy in your mind. You wait for him to make the first move. Finally, his thick fingers find the zipper along your side.

“Are you sure about this?” He says, his voice is hoarse, and you can tell he’s nervous. You wish knowing that would calm you, but truthfully it just makes your heart burst even more. This morning, the thought of anyone, but especially Joel, having feelings for you was ridiculous, but now you aren’t so sure it’s that absurd after all.

“Yes, Mister Miller. I just - I need…” he watches you patiently. Playing with the small metal zipper pull.

“Don’t be shy, sweet girl. Just tell me what you need.”

“I need to feel your skin against mine. Please.”

He pulls at the zipper as his lips meet your neck. “I love when you ask so politely. My good girl, aren’t you?”

“Mm-hmm,” you hum, fighting the sway of your legs to stay upright.

If he’s calling you yours, that’s Joel speaking. Not his dom alter ego.

Joel’s fingers come to the thin straps along your shoulders. The warmth of his hands against your skin causes you to shiver. He drags the straps down your arms and then frowns at the tape holding the dress to your chest. He tugs gently and you gasp at the pull of the tape. Before you can protest, the sting is soothed by his lips, kissing the sore, pink skin. He does the same thing after tugging the other side and the silky black dress pools at your feet.

You watch the muscles of Joel’s throat flex as he swallows, eyes trailing down your body. “Turn around.”

You spin on the balls of your feet, careful to not catch your heels on the carpet. “So you need to feel me, is that right, sweet girl?”

You nod your head. “Yes, Mister Miller.”

One of his hands comes to gently rest on your shoulder and instinctively lean into his touch. His fingers whirl around as he traces down your shoulder blade and then back up to your neck. “I can’t believe how beautiful you looked tonight. I kept getting pulled away from you every time I tried to get back to you. It was killing me to be away from you.”

You let your eyes close as his fingers run down your spinal column. You feel his heat leave your back and then his lips sponge kisses along the globes of your ass, his hands holding your hips possessively.

“You were such a good girl tonight. Outside of the little singing stunt,” he says between kisses. Every spot that took the punishment of his palm is given attention. “But you paid for that, didn��t you sweet girl?”

You giggle quietly before saying. “Yes, Mister Miller. Thank you, but I can’t promise I won’t do it again.”

“Good,” he laughs, standing up behind you. You hear the unmistakable sound of his silk tie being pulled off. “Because I don’t want you to ever stop teasing me.”

He tosses the tie towards his dresser. Before you know it, he’s spun you around and lifted you into his arms again. Your body knows just what to do, your legs clamping around his waist on their own. He captures the squeak that leaves your lips with his mouth. Nothing makes you melt faster than the feel of Joel’s lips on yours. They’re soft but firm, his tongue warm against yours as he takes what he wants from you and there’s no way you’re not going to let him.

He sits you on the dresser and plants his hands on each side of you as your hands move to work the buttons on his shirt. His lips never leave yours.

“I need you,” you whine as you get the first few buttons undone. The heat of his chest skimming against your fingertips has a fresh wave of arousal coat your already soaked pussy.

Joel moans needily at your confession as he pulls back slightly. He rips at his shirt, buttons burst before he tears it off and stands shirtless in front of you. Your eyes trail down his strong broad chest, stopping on the prominent bulge behind his pants. Your hands fly to his belt. He watches you with rapt fascination as you work the buckle and then the button of his pants.

As you move to the zipper, his fingers go to the lace of your panties. He growls as he splits the fabric.

“Joel!” You gasp. “Those were thirty dollars!”

He grabs your leg, placing the ball of your foot on his chest,unbuckling your shoe. “I just ruined an $800 dress shirt. I’ll buy you more.”

The shoe hits the floor and he grabs your other foot, his eyes locking to yours as he commands, “And it’s Mister Miller. I’ve been lenient with you. Another mistake and you will be punished - severely.”

For such harsh words, he’s being so careful with the small golden buckle on your shoe. “Yes, Mister Miller,” you say sweetly, batting your lashes innocently.

“Feet up on the dresser. Spread your legs for me, sweet girl.”

You lean back slightly, hands being used as an anchor behind you, placing your heels on the edge of the dresser. Cool air hits your drenched cunt and you fight yet another shiver. You’re spread wide for Joel, every single thing on display for him. He looks at you like you hung the moon and your heart flips behind your ribs. You suddenly feel like you did the first time the two of you spoke in his kitchen, his gaze is too much, too intense, and it becomes nearly impossible for you to not yell out that you love him, so you look away, your eyes falling to his strong chest.

“Eyes up here,” he murmurs as he takes the smallest step back.

Your mouth goes dry as you look back up at him. In your peripheral you can see his hands going to his belt, the sound of the buckle jingling tempts you to look down. “Atta girl, stay right here with me.”

You stay in his warm coffee brown pools, flecks of gold and honey appearing as the soft light of his bedroom hits him. I love you.

He bends slightly, his pants and boxers falling to the ground. You try to swallow once, twice, never leaving his gaze as the rest of his clothing comes off. You swear that time stops, the two of you are suspended in a moment that’s all yours. He steps forward and you can feel the heat of his skin against your entire body, you melt into his warmth.

“You want to look, don’t you?” he taunts.

“Yes, Mister Miller,” you hum.

The soft tip of his cock gently nudges at your clit and you gasp. “Look down, baby.”

You peel your eyes away from his, looking down to see where his body caresses against yours. The tip of his impossibly hard cock, precum glistening as it leaks for you, pressing lightly to your soft and swollen clit. His piercing lays flat against his pelvis and you remember what he said about there being benefits to it. You try to memorize the sight in front of you. As filthy and debauched as this is, it’s also passionate and beautiful; it's the epitome of Mister Miller and your time with him.

“Fuck, sweet girl. Your pussy is so pretty…and soft.” You watch as he wraps his hand around the thick base of his cock and rocks his hips. His cock slides easily along the warm folds of your drenched cunt, you swear you can feel the ridge of the underside of the tip as he says, “Who has you this turned on? Huh, sweet girl?”

“You,” you whimper as your legs start to tremble.

“God damn,” his voice now matching yours, “How’d I get so lucky.”

This time you know he’s not asking you a question, yet you hum in agreement as his cock slides back over your clit, the swollen nub relishing in the friction and the feel of him against you. You hope he’s going to keep going, you want to feel him inside of you more than you need oxygen. Instead, his other hand slips between the two of you, his strong digits teasing at your entrance. He slides along your clit again as one of his fingers pushes inside of you.

“Is this ok?” He whispers.

“Yesyes - fuuuuck, Mister Miller.” A bead of pre cum lands on your mound at the sound of pleasure passing your lips.

“Such a good girl for me. Already learning how to take me so well.” His finger slips out as a second joins it. “She’s begging for it, tryin’ to suck me in. So tight, my gorgeous sweet girl.”

Your foreheads meet and it all becomes too much again. You close your eyes as his fingers finally fill you. “Don’t stop,” you whine desperately.

His hips pick up their pace, pressing harder along your most sensitive spots. You get that floating feeling again. He’s so close to exactly how you need him, how you want him. The voice from your now-exploded box of feelings adds, “For the rest of your life”.

You keep your eyes closed, sparks of pleasure occasionally flickering behind them. You’re getting closer to your high with every press of his body against yours. You know if you opened your eyes you’d be able to fall over the edge, but you aren’t ready to be done imagining how it would look if his cock was doing what his fingers were right now.

“I can feel you’re getting close, baby. Clenchin’ my fingers so hard.” His voice is full of admiration, not a tone you’re used to hearing in moments like this. You used to think that you had a first love, and while none of your exes ever mistreated you, they also didn’t look at you or speak to you the way Joel Miller does.

His pace increases again as he curls his fingers forward, your body jolts up with the newly applied pressure behind your clit. You grip his shoulders to ground yourself, the inside of your thighs start to ache, but you’re not going to let your feet fall from the dresser. Truthfully, the burning ache only seems to intensify the pleasure at the apex of your thighs.

“Open your eyes, watch how good your pussy looks against me.”

“I ca-can’t. ‘M so close. I don’t - oh fuck - don’t wanna be done.”

“Just because you come, it doesn’t mean we are done, sweet girl. I’m not ready to be done. I want you to come as many times as you need to.” He presses his cock down against your clit harder as he speaks.

Before you can even take your next breath your orgasm washes over you. It hits hard and for a second you think your throat is constricted, but just as the wall of your pussy relaxes and begins to flutter, a euphoric scream frees itself from your airway. You start to pant, your body falling back to rest on the wall behind you. Joel falls forward with you, and just when you think you’re about to come down from your high, the pressure at this angle sends the strongest wave of your orgasm through you and you begin to gush around his fingers.

“That’s my good fuckin’ girl. Soak me.” Pride swells in his eyes as you chant his dominant name like a prayer. Your breathing starts to even and he slows his fingers and hips, ensuring not to send you into any overstimulation. I’m not ready to be done yet. He slowly removes his fingers, then wraps his arm around you to pull you up. Your feet fall from the dresser and the relief your muscles feel causes you to let out a pleasurable sigh.

Joel

He needs more, so much more, but waits for you - taking a few slow breaths in time with yours. When he sees you coming back down to earth he slides the tip of his cock up and down. At this angle, there’s no risk of accidentally slipping so he runs himself along every part he can reach.

“Kiss me,” you mumble, bringing your face towards his. He captures your lips in a sweet kiss, a kiss he’s sure you can tell isn’t the way a dom kisses his sub. He realizes at that moment that he’s never kissed you that way. No, he’s always kissed you with everything he had, giving himself to you piece by piece.

More. His inner voice growls. I’ll never come back up for air now.

Joel whispers your name between kisses and you both pull back just enough to see each other's faces. “When we got here, you said you wanted me to fuck you. Do you still want that?”

He watches your eyes dance around him. Confusion, fear, excitement and arousal line yours before you pull back from him. He scolds himself for saying it. Of course you’re going to panic, this is supposed to be a safe space. He set a complete ban on sex before he even met with you the first time. It’s right there, in his dom profile; because that’s what he is, he’s your dom. You can come here and beg for it, because you know it’s a safe place where it won’t happen.

He prepares himself for you to slap him or yell at him. Instead, you say, “Mister Miller, I don’t want you to do anything that you don’t want to. This was a hard limit for you, and where I very much want to, I don’t want you to break any promise to yourself.”

He let his eyelids fall shut, for the first time, he doesn’t want to be Mister Miller. He wants to be Joel.

I love you.

Goosebumps break out along his skin as you drag your hands up to his neck, fingers scraping along the back of his scalp. “Talk to me.”

“Just call me Joel,” he says through the boulder that’s lodged in his throat.

He feels your warm lips meet his cheek, kissing him softly before you clear your throat quietly and then whisper into his ear. “Please fuck me, Joel. Fuck me or I might die or go insane.”

“Again,” he growls.

“Fuck me, Joel.” You say, louder and with more conviction than the last time.

He scoops you off the dresser, your soft naked thighs tightening around his waist and he steals your squeal with his lips, kissing you hard with hurried passion. He’ll worry tomorrow about what getting you to call him Joel means, all he knows at this moment is that he needs to hear that you need him just as much as he needs you.

He lays you on the bed, pressing down into your warmth. He can feel how wet you are as you grind up into him. His lips grow hungrier, kissing every bit of your face and neck he can reach, relishing in the feel of your hands running up and down his biceps, your short nails scraping his skin occasionally.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asks before fusing his lips to your neck.

Your feet fall to the bed and you arch into him. “Yes, Joel.”

He raises to his knees, unclipping the chains around your body and then working with you to slip your ruined panties off. He reaches over to the bedside table to get a condom, using his teeth to peel the foil open and sliding it on. You’re always completely at his mercy, but this time he’s wholly at yours. One of his hands grips your hip, the other wraps around his cock as he takes in all your soft smooth skin, and memorizes the constellations that your freckles make along your body. Your breasts heave with each shallow inhale and shake beautifully with each exhale. Finally, his gaze meets yours, your eyes filled with every emotion he’s feeling.

“There’s no safeword anymore, my sweet girl. If you tell me to stop, I will.”

You nod as he lines himself up, the warmth of your tight entrance calling to him. Joel pushes gently, your hips rising to encourage him. His balls tighten at the feeling of you wrapped tightly around the tip.

“So tight, sweet girl.” He falls forward, both forearms beside your head to keep his weight off of you.

The two of you rock in tandem, working more of him into you. “Oh god, Joel. More,” you moan.

There was a time when he told you to only call him Joel, it was the only name you could use that would keep this side of him from taking over. But now, hearing your voice say his name in the needy little vibrato, it’s having the same effect as when you call him Mister Miller. He’s sure you know exactly how he feels, and he’s now certain that you feel the same way.

Your hips grind into his and pleasure spikes through his entire body. He’s fully seated inside of you now, your tight pussy squeezing him sweetly. He buries his face into your neck, lavender hypnotizing him. Everything he can see, hear, smell and feel is you. His sweet girl.

“More, please, more.” You whine, circling your hips.

His jaw flexes as he fights his body’s instinct to come. He pushes down with his hips to still you. “I need a minute, sweet girl. Shit - you feel too good.”

Your soft giggle at his confession causes your pussy to flex tighter around him. A shiver runs up his spine, “Baby, please don’t. Just stay still, please.”

He pulls himself away from your neck, his hips flexing forward. He watches your eyes widen as his piercing presses right where it’s meant to. You gasp and clench his hips with your thighs. He smirks, now flooded with desire and determination to fuck you until neither of you can walk.

“Ready?” He says, his voice deep.

“I think - Joel, fuck - I might…”

His animalistic side kicks in, he pulls out to the tip and then slams back in, swivelling his hips so his piercing stimulates your clit, which he’s sure still must be sensitive from earlier, before pulling back and repeating.

“Think you might what?” He demands, keeping his gaze locked on yours as he fucks you.

“I’m gonna - gonna come.” You moan between thrusts.

“So fuckin’ needy. Aren’t you?” You met each of his thrusts with a flick of your hips. Even with the condom, you feel better than he could have ever imagined. All the things he wants to do to you run through his mind; he wants to take you from behind, or watch your tits bounce as you ride him, he pictures you strapped to the spanking bench in his room at the club. But right now he just wants to worship every inch of you. He wants to show you how you should be treated and loved.

The words are on the tip of his tongue. I love you.

He shifts his weight, one arm hooking under your leg so he can take you deeper. “Sweet girl, I want to feel you come on my cock.”

“Fuckfuck don’t stop.” He peppers your jawline with kisses.

“Kiss me,” he whispers. He tilts his head, parting his lips for your warm tongue. Joel starts fucking you faster. He breaks the kiss, “Come for me, baby girl.”

“Are we going to be done if I do?” You ask.

“No, baby.” He huffed a laugh, his hand pushing the hair away that’s started to stick to your forehead. “Never. I’m never going to be done with you.”

“Joel - oh my god.” He feels you getting tighter and tries to distract his thoughts. He’s not ready to be done, but he’s not young anymore so he can’t risk finishing quite yet. “Your - your piercing.”

“Let go,” he says into your lips. He feels it then, that infinitesimal tightening of your pussy around his length before it begins to flutter. Your whine fills his head. He watches the pleasure fill your face, he swears he can see the clouds that form around your vision as you look deep into his eyes and succumb to your high. Your soft body quivers beautifully underneath him, “That’s my girl.”

The primal need to fuck you hard into his mattress simmers his skin. Not yet, not this time. She’s too perfect right now.

“Tell me how it feels, sweet girl.”

Between pants you moan out, “So good, Joel.”

Your body begins to slow beneath him as your orgasm crests and he gives himself a mental pep talk to hold on just a bit longer. His cock is achy with the need to come, and it’s going to be slightly tortuous to stop, but he wants to take you at least one more time before you both fall into what is sure to be an exhausted sleep.

His lips come to your shoulder. “I love fucking you. Your pussy was made for me.”

Your nails scrape at his back. “It’s t-too much. Fuck. Sorry…sorry.”

Joel stills his hips, releasing your leg and pushing his weight off of you, but doesn’t pull away. Your eyes are clenched tight, “Look at me, sweet girl.”

Your eyes pop open, pupils blown in pleasure and love. There’s no denying it now, he knows you feel the same. “Don’t be sorry.”

Your cheeks flush slightly, “But you’re not, you didn’t yet.”

“If you can’t say it, you shouldn’t be doing it.”

“You didn’t get to come yet,” you whisper.

“I don’t want to yet. I’m going to let you catch your breath and then you’re going to climb onto my lap and really learn what that piercing can do.” He winks and then gives you a small smile before slipping out of you. He rolls onto the mattress beside you, removing the condom and dropping it into the waste bin beside the bed.

He hears you hiss, panic clogs his throat as he whips back towards you. “What’s wrong?”

You nod towards his almost impossibly hard cock. “That looks painful.”

“I’m ok, sweet girl.” He pulls you in, melting at the way your body molds so perfectly to his. He kisses your forehead, “You’re incredible.”

“You too.” You nuzzle deeper into him, your warm breath hitting his chest and your leg wrapping around his.

There’s a few minutes of comfortable silence before you speak, “Hey Joel?”

“Mm-hmm?”

“I think we should ditch the condom.” He pulls back as you look up at him, “You have a vasectomy. I have an IUD. We had recent test results as per the club's rules.”

Joel swallows. Not wearing a condom, even though he had his vasectomy over a decade ago, has never been an option. Another rule of JMKink is that you have to be wearing a condom during all penetrative activities; even if the person you’re fucking is your husband or wife. It hits Joel then that the only person he’s felt that intimately before is Tiffany.

“Are you sure? I know the chances of getting pregnant are very slim, but you got into law school today, I don’t want to risk anything.”

“I’m sure,” you hum. “I’m also sure that you should put that cowboy hat back on for the next round.”

Next Chapter

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rawbin-hsr · 8 months ago

Text

Rating HSR characters in relationships

Title is self-explanatory <3

Characters: Boothill, Dr Ratio, Blade, Aventurine (separately)

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

CW: cursing, mostly fluff and some crack

CW Aventurine's part: toxic dynamics, emotional neglect, jealousy, Aventurine in general

Lmk if there's any warnings I should add!

Had to restrain myself on Dr. Ratio I have soo bad brain worms about him rn he’s all I think about

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Boothill

10/10

DO NOT. AT ME. I PROMISE I’VE THOUGHT THIS THROUGH. I know most people who read that will be like “what the fuck Boothill would NOT be a perfect partner” and that’s where you’re right ! No, he would be an awful partner !

For MOST people.

But see, he wouldn’t be just ANYONE’S partner.

If you’re dating him, it means you’re exactly his type and he’s exactly yours. You wouldn’t date a guy like him if he wasn’t exactly what you wanted. He lays out all his cards on the table right away. Your relationship won’t have the chance to even begin if you’re not head over heels immediately bro 😭😭😭

With most characters I can imagine them in a relationship with a lot of different kinds of people. Like for example yeah I can imagine Aventurine both dating someone more reserved and sweet or someone bold and loud. Or someone like Argenti Lord knows that man could love ANYONE (or anyTHING tbh), but with Boothill there’s just a very narrow range of personalities I can imagine him with. Hence the rating cause he’d only be in one kind of relationship.

You guys are a POWER COUPLE I tell you. It’s SICKENING how much you love each other and how well you fit together. Two peas in a pod. I’m gonna throw up.

You both love the exact same things, you both HATE the exact same things, and you are both equally deranged and insane

The IPC hates to see you coming 💀🙏

You’re constantly in a friendly competition to outdo each other. Who has the higher bounty ? (Usually him) Who can drink most alcohol before blacking out ? (You, surprisingly) Who can kiss the other the most times during this high-speed chase ? (You always tie on this)

He swallows a bullet. You say “I’ll do you one better!” and swallow a knife. You are a human and so he needs to take you to the hospital so you don’t fucking die

(You both think it’s funny afterwards so it’s okay)

Even when you guys “argue” it’s never really that serious. Honestly you both think it’s kind of hot…… you argue in a devious, sexy way……. *smirks mischievously*

Sorry I cannot take him seriously

You match his freak <3

Nobody fucking likes you together. Separately ? Sure people like you. But the moment the two of you are in the same room it’s like you merge into one singular, horrible, annoying entity and NOBODY wants to be around to see it 😭😭😭🙏🙏🙏 neither of you have gotten a lecture about how inappropriate pda can be and also the two of you speak total nonsense it’s incomprehensible to everyone else

Considering putting Boothill on my “do not request” list, not because I don’t like him but because even I don’t understand how the two of you would fit together I can’t write it y’all are that weird

Boothill is for the freaks and he is PERFECT FOR THEM !!!

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Dr. Ratio

9/10

Okay I’ll be honest I’m not very caught up on Dr Ratio (I briefly hated him I only recently started liking him again HELP) so forgive me if there is some mischaracterisation in this I’m working on it my view on him isn’t complete yet 🙏🙏

Though Ratio is very ruled by logic, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have emotions. Furthermore, he views these emotions as important. Logic is not inherently opposed to emotions, and in fact, ignoring them would be illogical.

That is to say, yes, he’s an intellectual man. But he also has a high emotional intelligence 😇😇

Like not in the way of knowing how to cope with them. I don’t think he feels many strong emotions regularly (except for annoyance lol), so I think he in fact gets kind of overwhelmed by them around you and never knows how to regulate them properly HELP

But what I meant to say is that, in a relationship, he considers your thoughts and feelings a lot and makes an effort to prioritise them. He does not want for you to be unhappy.

He values you very highly. He takes all your opinions into consideration and treats them with respect.

He loves you a lot it’s actually ridiculous. He frequently gets annoyed at himself for how much he finds himself downright SIMPERING over you.

And like yes Ratio can be very harsh in the way he speaks but I think that 1, his care for people (including the “fools” and “idiots” he seems to scorn so often) shows and it shows even more apparently for people he cares about, and 2 I think he realises it would be inappropriate to be as rude as he usually is to you. You two are in a relationship, you are not some stranger. He cannot go around criticising you constantly, that would not be a healthy dynamic. Meaning he softens his vocabulary for you.

His care for you is very blatantly obvious. In the beginning I think he’s a bit embarrassed to show you affection. He hasn’t ever dated anyone, much less been in a relationship, with anyone before you (I honestly don’t even think he’s had his first kiss 😭😭), so I think his inexperience plays a part in it. But he still shows you as obviously as he can that he loves you, and he doesn’t shy away from vulnerability in private moments.

Bro has researched how to be a good partner trust 🤞

He communicates very clearly with you as often as possible. He hates misunderstandings, and tries to avoid them whenever possible. The two of you are almost always on the same page.

Whenever you argue, he still does not want you to leave the argument feeling unloved. Type to sigh, let his eyes soften and say “I believe it would be best if we both had some time to cool down”, then squeeze your shoulder as he passes you out of the room. Kisses you goodnight before you go to sleep. It’s often easier to talk it out the next day.

The only things bumping him down from a 10/10 for me is the fact that he doesn’t have that much time to spare for time with only you (his schedule is very packed), and the fact that he cannot cope with his OWN emotions 😭 Great with yours because he can logistically figure out how to handle them, terrible with his own because they’re affecting his own mind and he isn’t used to it

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Blade

7/10

Surprisingly high rating for a guy like him but I swear I’ve thought about this ok don’t leave 😔😔😔

I think it takes…. A lot. Like a lot a lot. To break through Blade’s tough outer shell

He hates letting people in so much it’s actually crazy

The closest person he has before he meets you is probably Kafka, and that’s not really by his own choice he would shut her out too if he could 😭😭

(Not to say he isn’t like, calm and polite to people. He’s pretty reserved and just, like, quiet ig usually, he only really gets weird and aggressive when the Mara flares up or he needs to be for a mission. I just mean he isn’t gonna be open and available for basically anyone lol)

It’s mainly difficult to GET INTO a relationship with Blade, but if you do manage it, it turns out a lot sweeter than you’d expect

He’s just a deeply tired man. He is not malicious, he is not unnecessarily cruel. He is worn out and sick of living, of never getting the rest he so desperately craves. He finds some sort of respite in you, and so he treasures you.

He trusts your judgement. He stands by you, no matter what. He’s loyal to a fault once you have him. The worst that could ever happen to him now is losing you. Even when he thinks you’re about to do something stupid (and he always tells you when he thinks it’s stupid), he’ll come with you. Better he’s there to take the hit for you than letting you go alone.

Even with the smaller things, he shows it even more obviously. He cooks you dinner and lunch every day, so you don’t have to. He lets you decorate his apartment, and he never adjusts the things you place in it, even when it clashes horribly with his own style. He lets you drag him along anywhere, whether it be a concert or a park, without complaint.

The main downsides with Blade are that he never, ever, verbally tells you that he loves you. Maybe once during your entire relationship he’ll say it, and probably when you’re on your deathbed, but he usually won’t. Even if you try to pry it out of him.

He can be really mean in the way he says things sometimes, like telling you straight up your ideas are dumb, but it’s always softened by the way he agrees to do whatever you want anyways.

Another frustrating thing is how he cares very little for his own wellbeing. It’s a regular occurrence for him to come home with guts spilling out of his abdomen, and it’s really uncomfortable to see even if you know he can’t die. He can still feel pain, even if he’s learnt to cope with it well. It’s scary to see him so hurt so often.

But you wouldn’t get into a relationship with him if you didn’t already know all this, hence why I rank him so high. He’s a lot better than you expected when you met him, which means you’re effectively in a better relationship than you’d have hoped 😭😭

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Aventurine

4/10 💀💀

I love him so much (my content is mostly Aventurine centric) but holy fuck man,,,

I have never and will never sugarcoat it Aventurine is TOXIC. Like GENUINELY. I wouldn’t say abusive but he can be really cruel. He gets lost in his own head and takes it out on you in ways he doesn’t really mean to. Aventurine is not a good person.

He’s fucked up in all sorts of ways and it’s no surprise it could easily destroy any relationship

Trust issues ? Jealousy issues ? Commitment issues ? Attachment issues ? Insecurity issues ? Mommy, daddy AND sister issues ? Every kind of possible issue you can probably imagine ? Yes on all fronts, bro’s the full issue package 💀

It would take a very special kind of person to endure in a relationship with him (I would not be able to do it if he was real I’ll be so honest)😭

When things are good, they’re really good. He can be so fun and playful and sweet and he loves to spoil you and everything that belongs to him belongs to you. He loves you more than the air he breathes and he’d do anything to make you happy

The issue is, most of the time, things are not in fact good.

I keep mentioning it but his relationships are always such a push and pull. A game of hot and cold. One second he clings to you and begs you to never leave him, and the next he won’t respond to your calls or messages.

Even worse, sometimes he’ll be outright mean in order to push you away, insinuating you’re “holding him down” and that you’re “wasting his time”. You’ll find yourself questioning if he actually does love you, because what sort of person does this to someone they love?

(It keeps him up at night when he treats you badly. He hates doing it, but he needs you to hate him as much as he hates himself.)

Usually he’s a really smart guy. Even when he does stupid things (things like making a purposeless high-risk gamble, playing Russian roulette), he’s fully aware of what he’s doing. (He does it because he kind of hopes he’ll actually die this time.) But with you, he loses all his composure and can’t really think straight.

He feels safe with you, and that scares him. He’s a danger to your safety, and it’s better to push you away, make you hate him, than it is to let himself be happy with you. His life is beyond saving, so all he can do to you if you stay is drag you into his mess. He can’t fix himself, not even for your sake.

He lies to you, he neglects you (sometimes for weeks at a time), he builds up new walls between you constantly, but at the same time he gets insecure and jealous when you hang out with others. Only when you threaten to leave him does he finally start getting his act together, because he realises that now that he’s had you, he couldn’t bear to live without you (even if he knows that’s very selfish of him).

He gets better with time, but I really, really doubt he’ll ever be fully healed. It doesn’t help that his job wouldn’t really allow it, and he can’t leave the IPC through any other means than death.

I originally ranked him as a 3/10 (diabolically low rating I know 💀💀) but I bumped him up one because he will get better. If you stick around long enough, he’d probably make it to a 7/10, but since that would take like over 4 years of being in a relationship with him I felt it would be unfair to rank him much higher 😭😭 At the start he really fucking sucks dude I’m so sorry my condolences

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

My inbox is open, feel free to send in asks or requests, I'd love to ramble about things <3

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crescenthistory · 8 months ago

Note

Hi I really love your fics and was hoping to send in a request! I was thinking a fem!reader who’s also a swan animagus, and partners with any or all of the marauders (minus Pete). She’s a very clumsy person, constantly stubbing her toes and bumbing into corners and walls, so when the boys find out that her animagus form is something so graceful they’re just baffled. That’s all I got really, so with that as you please if you please ❤️

this was such a sweet request darling, thank you so much<3 i made this into a general view of what her animagus process looked like + the boys' reactions to what she became

Words: 3.5k

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, remus' pov, loads of anxiety and fearing for safety of a loved one, post-hogwarts with references to oncoming political turmoil but it is not canon compliant, reader is regulus' best friend, flirty bullying lol, mostly fluff and some hurt/comfort

Note: this is my first official poly!marauders fic, and i absolutely adore writing their dynamic

When you began your animagus journey, Remus was unsure of what to expect.

Back when James, Sirius and Peter did it, none of their animagus figures came as a surprise, the picturesque manifestations of the personalities Remus had come to love. Sirius, the loyal guard dog, looming and intimidating in your periphery or on the battlefield, but playful and loving by the fire in his own home. James, the noble and brave Head Boy turned stag, equal parts beautiful and fierce, able to balance out and maintain the worst and best in the rest of the boys. Peter, the quiet and mousy dry-humoured boy they came to love much in the same way you love your pet rat, slippery and smart, able to wield what he has to his advantage. All of it made sense to Remus, which provided a balm for the anxiety that settled in his chest at the thought of the lengths his friends and partners were willing to go for him.

With you though, nothing seemed to make sense. Never really had, it was just right somehow.

You came in later in the Gryffindor friend group, a year younger than the rest of them and best friends with Regulus. It was seemingly a buy one, get two deal when Regulus was finally able to escape the Black household and join Sirius at Potter Manor at last. He refused to leave you behind, knowing all too well what it felt like. Neither Sirius nor James could argue with that, and Remus quickly found he didn't want them to.

No, because when you were integrated into the friend group, hesitant for a mere second – mostly out of respect for Regulus it seemed – before allowing your full personality to prosper at its natural breadwidth, Remus was infatuated. You weasled your way into his heart, knocking against every surface on the way there, leaving him breathless.

He was beyond relieved to look at his two boys – his two lovely boys – and see the same longing in their eyes.

In a relationship that already housed a half-blood half-breed, a disgraced son of a most ancient and noble house and a blood-traitor himbo-jock, Remus had not fathomed there would be room for one more. Until that one was you in all your clumsy-bodied warm-hearted glory – then suddenly, it was unfathomable not to have you.

Despite his shock, Remus found himself quite pleased when finally sat in your shared flat a year after Hogwarts, with you held securely in his arms while Sirius and James were commuting home together from their apprenticeships as aurors at the Ministry. The picture of domesticity. The life he never dared imagine. With your scent filling his nose and your cheek pressed against the skin of Remus' throat, he was sure there was nothing else he could ask for.

"I did something today," you murmured absentmindedly then, trailing patterns on his arm, careful not to snag him with the edge of your nail that broke a few hours earlier that he had not bothered filing down yet.

"Mhm, and what was that, dove?" he replied in the same tone, only half-paying attention as he drowsed in the warmth of you.

"I applied to become an animagus."

Suddenly, Remus was no longer tired nor warm nor comfortable nor nuzzled into your hair as he jerked back to look at you in shock.

"You did what?" His voice somehow didn't convey his immediate turmoil, but he's sure his eyes did as you bit your lip sheepishly.

"I applied with the Ministry to become an animagus," you restated as if it was the simplest thing in the world. "Dumbledore's suggestion. Though if one person in our household is properly registered, it could be easier to avoid any suspicion should the order need you to utilise it more often."

The rest of the night was spent with you explaining what was surely a sound and reasonable plan, but that still lit Remus' veins alight with fire. As was the next few weeks, awaiting the pending response, spent with you and James – who quickly jumped onboard, eager to support you – reassuring Remus and in part Sirius that the plan was sound and reasonable and you would be fine.

"Honestly, I'm beginning to think you have zero faith in me," you joked one evening when you were all cuddled up on the sofa.

"It's not that I don't trust you, dovey," Remus began despondently.

Sirius preferred to cut to the chase with a deadpan. “We just prefer for our darling girl who has never once gone a day without a single bruise to not be undertaking dangerous magical transformations that largely depend upon precision.”

"I have gone a day," you muttered petulantly at that, to which James began rubbing your arms up and down whispering something in your ear about "pick battles we can win, angel".

Remus smiled a bit hesitantly at the sight of his two loves sat opposite him, while he himself was currently held in Sirius' arms and unable to see his face. He could, however, feel the tension in his grip though, likely at the thought of all that could go wrong.

"I understand why it has to be done," Remus started. "And you know I support you always, dove. I just can't help but worry."

You cooed at what Remus was sure was a slight pout on his face before leaning forward out of James' arms to kiss it off him. At that, a genuine smile spread across his lips and into your kiss, breathing you in as a sign of defeat.

"I may stumble, but I can do difficult things, my love," you whispered, brushing your thumbs over his cheekbones. "And with you here, I'll always be alright, won't I?"

"I suppose," Remus faux grumbled, to which James leaned forward to ruffle his hair.

"You are so cute," James all but exclaimed. "So, so cute."

"Alright Jamie, that's enough of that," Remus tried but James kept on playing with his hair, though with slower movements.

"Look at you caring for our little clutz." You let out an undignified "hey" at that. "With big Moony on watch, we will never have to worry."

"And big Padfoot!" Sirius exclaimed from behind Remus, causing the latter to roll his eyes fondly at the boy's not-so-fake fear of missing out.

James caught it too with a hearty laugh, slipping off the sofa to slide to the floor beside Sirius with a soft "of course, baby" before littering his face with a sickening amount of kisses.

As Remus watched you giggle, he pulled you closer. Sickening indeed he thought as he stared down at you with overwhelming love in his throat.

The cycle of worry and reassurance continued well into the animagus process when your application was approved, which Remus suspected Dumbledore also had a hand in. Though, for these, you often couldn't reassure him as much with your words, with the mandrake leaf and everything, but James was your perfect advocate, speech ready on his lips, and your hand never strayed far from Remus' body, keeping his anxiety at bay.

When you fell down the stairs one day or when you ran into doors, Remus' breath caught in his throat like never before, the implications of your clumsiness far more prominent than ever before. You were always alright, and Remus knew he just had kept telling himself that until it was over.

You're alright, you're alright, you're alright. A mantra, a prayer.

"She will be alright, right Siri?" A broken sob into his lover's chest on nights you were away to complete the process.

"Always, always, always." A murmured response that weighed a tonne in his chest.

He never did tell you about those nights, he knew you didn't deserve the guilt or the fretting that would overtake you at the knowledge, not when you were doing something to support your loves, your family, your cause. He could never tell you that while you, in all your clumsy chaos, was being brave, he was being a coward.

And you never did tell him that you knew, that you saw, but you held him closer the nights following them.

While one the precipice of oncoming political collapse, one is rarely allowed full reprieve from anxiety, but Remus found himself washed with immeasurable relief and calm when the front door opened on the final night and he heard two sets of boots and laughter as you and James walked into your flat.

The lightning storm in the background required for the final night of the process was still raging outside, but your flat might as well be on another planet for all Remus cared because you were inside, you were alright and you were laughing.

Only James could follow you to it, as you had to go through the very final bit alone and Sirius convinced Remus you should be surrounded with calm and reassurance before you took those last steps alone. He agreed, always wanting what was best for you, but it did not help his roaring fears to not be able to go with you.

Thus, the homebound boys immediately shot up at the sound from where they had been anxiously perched on each their chair in the living room, running towards the front door. The latter placed his hand pacifyingly on Remus' shoulder, a silent I'm here, it's alright, she’s alright.

You were.

You were alright.

You were also being laughed at, they now realised.

Chucking off your boots, drenched to the core with hair plastered to your face, you looked awfully displeased with James who - equally as drenched but thrice as enthusiastic - was bent over against the wall, face scrunched up with delight. Remus supposed some of the water drops trailing down his face were actually tears of laughter.

"It's not that funny, James," you grumbled, but the twitch in your lips gave away that perhaps it was.

Ignoring whatever petty squabble for half a minute, Sirius swept you up in a hug and twirled you around, the squelch of your clothes and your own giggle filling the room. "My love!" he exclaimed with glee. "Oh you did it my darling, you did it."

Remus walked towards your embrace with reverence, laughing a bit wetly with relief. You looked at him with so much love in your eyes he wasn't sure if he could take it – and then you opened your arm to invite him into your hug, and he knew he couldn't.

With a shaky breath, Remus let himself fall into you with a few tears rolling down his face and an immense smile across his lips. He murmured some sweet nothings into your hairline that not even he could quite make out.

Pulling back just enough to see your now-wide grin, he kissed you searingly in the exact way he had dreamed of doing on this day.

Safe in his arms, at last.

At the thought, he could almost hear you whisper back that you always were.

"Thank you," Remus whispers against your lips. "Thank you."

"What for?" you laugh back into him.

He opens his eyes to gaze warmly into yours. "For being okay. For being brave."

A soft cooing sound escaped you as you gave him another lingering kiss that seemed to promise you always will be. He felt Sirius' lips drift between each of your foreheads, an eternal comfort in all of Remus' worry, even when he had his own.

"Is this the part where you lie to me and say you knew I could always do it?" you tease as you look between the two boys pressed up against you.

At the same time, Sirius gives you a resounding "yes" while Remus shakes his head at you with a laugh.

"It's not a lie," he begins, continuing despite your light scoff. "I always knew you could, you can do anything you set your mind to. I just love you too much not to freak out about the what ifs."

"You absolute sap," Sirius laughs at him, resulting in you slapping his arm lightly in defence of Remus.

"Do you disagree with him?" you question with a raised brow, challenging smile tugging at your lips.

Sirius' humour was washed away to be replaced with soft fondness. "Of course not, doll."

Behind you, James cleared his throat.

The three of you turned around to see your final boy leaning against the wall, admiration written clearly across his face as he took in the picture before him with heart eyes. It didn't escape Remus, though, that you tensed in his arms beside him nor that James had one of his most mischievous smiles across his face.

"Yeah, angel, we are all super duper proud of you now and forever and always." James says it in a way that makes Remus suspicious he has already told you as much a hundred times over while you were out together. "Now can we skip to the fun bit?"

You groan, throwing your head back against Sirius' shoulder – who whispered a petulant ow! – and promptly pulled out of their grasp. Remus tried to focus on whatever bit was about to come from James to ignore the feeling of loss.

"Fine, but I am going to need so much flattery from you after this relentless bullying, Mister." You threatened as you pointed your wand at James, first in replacement of an accusatory finger, and then to vanish the water from his person. You did yourself the same favour, then grabbed Remus' hand to direct your boys to the living room and its wonderful fireplace that Sirius kept alive for you while you were gone.

"You know I will, baby!" James called after you as he grabbed some water bottles from the fridge on the way to follow you, handing one to you unprompted.

"Now? What's so funny?" Sirius asked impatiently as he perched himself on the end of the sofa, directly in front of where you and Remus stood before the fire.

James' grin came back in full force as he looked at you devilishly. "Can I be the one to tell them?" At least he had the decency to ask you.

"You're the one who thinks it's so bloody funny, so you ought to." Remus chuckled at you, pulling you closer into his side, protecting you from James for once.

"So we all know that your lovely, lovely girl here does not have the best track record when it comes to, you know, general spatial awareness?"

Sirius barked a laugh at that and Remus had to pull you back from kicking his shin, resulting in you stumbling slightly. You shot him a half-hearted glare that seemed to scream don't prove his point!

"Yeah," Remus agreed readily, shooting you a smug smile at the betrayal.

"I have yet to meet a table she can outsmart." Sirius nodded solemnly.

This all seemed to excite James even further. "Right! Or a cart she can't run over her foot, or a door handle she can't smash against her hip, or a staircase that won't make her eat-"

"Okay, okay!" You threw your hands up in defeat. "We get your point, Jamie, gods."

James' smile almost turned rueful, but your cute expression was not really helping your case here. Remus couldn't blame him as James reached out to pinch at your chin.

"And we love you all the more for it, angel, really."

"Yeah, yeah," you grumbled, waving his hand away and placing more weight against Remus. "Get to it, Potter."

"Moony, Pads," James said, looking at them with levity, as if he was about to disclose serious news. "Our beautiful little klutz is a swan animagus."

There was silence for two seconds, as Sirius' jaw fell on the floor and Remus' eyes widened. Remus regretted to disclose that he was the first to break it as he snorted a laugh, prompting Sirius to immediately match James' previous hysterics, clapping his hands together.

"No way!" he laughed as you crossed your arms in further petulance.

"A swan?" Remus questioned with mirth to no one in particular.

"A swan!" James confirmed excitedly.

"And what about it?" you grumbled, stepping back so you could more easily glare at all three boyfriends at once. "What's so so funny about it?"

"It's nothing, dove, it's just-" Remus' placating was undercut by him laughing through it "- swans are know to be, like, elegant."

"I can be elegant!" you retorted. Sirius just snorted at you. "I can be!" you continued, nodding your head in that endearing way you do when you try to insist.

"You certainly look elegant," James relented. "But, my absolute love, you are anything but."

"Again, stairs." Sirius said it as if the word "stairs" in and of itself was an argument. Knowing your past, it most certainly was.

"Grace and elegance are often considered opposites of clumsiness and incoordination, dovey," Remus explained.

"I know that," you seethed in response, but the fight was already running out of you.

"It's just a tad bit ironic, isn't it?" James fought to calm his laughter.

Sirius did no such thing. "Understatement of the year, Prongs."

"Maybe the grace my animagus refers to has something to do with my inner grace in handling you lot," you grumbled, to which James cooed – effectively not helping his case. "And they represent wisdom and understanding, not to mention that they bite so you watch yourselves now." Your glare was withering as you couldn't help but laugh a little at your own joke.

With another breath of laughter, Sirius rose from his seat to reach for you in a hug, but you stepped out of the way. "No hugs for rude boys," you said simply.

"Oh, come on dollface, let me appreciate our little swan." You put up little effort as Sirius tucked you under his chin, chest still rumbling with laughter. “I just cannot believe you're a swan, baby."

"I can," Remus said, letting affection take over the humour in his voice once more. "They represent love too, you know."

James' face scrunched up in laughter as he roughly pulled the wolf into his arms, squeezing him tightly. "You're killing me, Moons, you can't say stuff like that."

"Why the hell not?" Remus grumbled all the while holding James tighter, eyes trained on you and Sirius.

"Because I’ll love you too much." At that, Remus laughed, kissing James' cheek softly.

"Regardless of any humour and irony, you did something incredibly difficult, dove. We're so proud of you." This was not just placation, Remus believed it with his whole chest. You could evidently tell as you almost shied into Sirius' chest.

James walked his embrace with Remus towards you and Sirius, so you were all standing close to one another in front of the sparkling fire.

"Is it okay to say I'm really proud of myself too?" you asked then with a slight self-conscious smile.

Sirius shut down any insecurity with the searing kiss he pressed to your forehead. "Of course, baby. It would be a tragedy if you weren't."

Remus could feel James tilt his head in thought. He couldn't help but pry. "What is it, Prongs?"

"Just that," James began. "Because of our animagi, I'm Prongs and Sirius is Padfoot. But you've always called Y/N dove just because – and now she is a bird, so should we all call her that now? It's not the same bird, but close?"

"No," Remus and you said quickly and shared a small smile. "Dove is mine, you lot can find your own bird-name for her," he teased.

James just laughed. "The possessive streak runs deep in this wolf, huh?"

"What nicknames can be derived from a swan then?" Sirius wondered out loud. "White Wing sounds too much like a superhero name."

"We are not calling me White Wing." You laughed, leaning your head on Sirius' shoulder. "I quite like what you've always called me. If we need a codename later we can come up with it then."

Remus was sure his irises could melt from how soft his gaze on you felt. "Sure thing, dovey. Tonight we just do whatever you want to celebrate."

Your smile was relaxed in that domestic, beautiful way that Remus felt the urge to frame. "We're already doing it. Just being with you three."

"Sap," Sirius whispered in your ear, accidentally tickling you, causing you to giggle and twist in his arms.

As Remus' body shook with both his and James' laughter, he knew that you had once again gone and done everything he never expected. If he was lucky, you would do that for the rest of his life – and that is what would make it good.

"Oh, I have to go tell Regulus!" Sirius exclaimed, running off - with you hot on his heel.

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mysterious-meat-cake · 4 months ago

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First post on here and it's a rant!! If you want more cool takes you should totally follow me as I'll be posting here more often and have totally cool art to share‼️‼️

I'm not completely sure how to tag this? I'm talking about the ships in a positive light so I think it's okay, and besides, I want lots of peeps to see it, I'm aware I probably won't change many people's minds at all, but it's okay lol, I just want Anti's to see they genuinely have a nothing burger and need to leave people alone.

This is a mostly TikTok only problem regarding Beast x Ancient's (thank god) but I've seen my fair share elsewhere like on here. So lemme counter every argument I've seen so far cause you got a lot of time on your hands to be telling people to off themselves over Cookie ships 😭 put that hate into people who actually deserve it.

BILLFORD COMPARISON

Regarding ShadowVanilla specifically, people have compared the ship a lot from both sides, but what really got me is what I've seen here:

"Shadow Milk Cookie is way worse than Bill! He drove Pure Vanilla to insanity! He tortured him!"- This is in regards to how people bring up the fact Anti's are fine with one thing but not the other when it's basically the same thing they're against. Psychological, physical, mental, and emotional torture. I'll be honest I haven't watched Gravity Falls whatsoever, but my friend has, and from what she says, yeah Bill is the definition of a cruel and unusual punishment. He's done some crazy things, absolutely heinous, might even be a little worse than Shadow Milk or on the same level, either way though-

You can't like one thing and then not the other, it's different flavors of the same thing, it's hypocritical. Either you hate them both or you hate neither.

"Those are 2 different fandoms!"- Doesn't matter, it's the same thing, just different media, it's not different whatsoever aside from the universe, there's much torture involved on both ends.

ABUSER X VICTIM

This one I've seen A LOT and I'm just ??

"If you ship Beast x Ancient's you support Abuser x victim btw"- That's a STRETCH. You are reaching FAR. Nobody is romanticizing the abuse, nobody is normalizing it, it's stuff that happened in canon and we acknowledge it but nobody is doing any of that other stuff. I'm not condoning anyone in real life to do that shit lol. It's called exploring, they have an interesting dynamic, romantic or platonic, two sides of the same coin. You can say the same thing about horror movies, they put a lot of disturbing stuff in there. Do the movie producers CONDONE any of that stuff? Obviously not. Goes for Devsisters too, they don't condone body mutilation yet they still made Burning Spice rip off Cheese's wings.

But even so, for the people who DO like it for the angst, I won't say fiction doesn't affect reality because it does in many cases, but this isn't one of them. Not every relationship is going to be peachy and perfect, just like in real life. I can give an example on this one too actually.

GoldenLily, they aren't condoning what Lily (technically) did to Golden Cheese's kingdom, but they like it for all the potential, complicated feelings and emotions that come along with it.

Also, that's basically the same thing with Beasts x Ancients, just turn it around to enemies to lovers.

"This isn't Villain x hero, this is abuser x victim"- Are you saying MOST of media is abuser x victim then? This is in fact a typical hero x Villain trope, it's nothing new. Respectfully, you guys freak out when a Villain does villain stuff, I'd be surprised if there was a villain who DIDN'T cause any trauma for the opposing party. But according to this logic, media is just dead, no more fanfiction, no more what ifs, no more content since it's all apparently problematic and not canon. Even if somebody switches stuff up in an AU, and makes things completely fluffy, that's apparently still not enough.

"oh you had to make an AU to ship them because you know it's toxic"- No, it's just playing around with scenarios. Learn to separate fanon from canon. This specifically goes for the redeemed AU's I see of the Beasts, people still complain, they act as if people can't change. One of the biggest examples I have of that is FlutterCord, Discord did plenty of messed up things, but in the end, he still managed to change. You'll still get burned at the stake for it though.

"You must be an abuser yourself to condone this!!"- Extremely disrespectful and a WILDDD take. Need I say more??

"I ship Beast x Beast rather than Beast x Ancient's"- According to your logic, the Beasts are abusers right? And if we followed the same story, they are not mentally well whatsoever. You'd rather ship 2 dangerously mentally unstable characters together who'd just make each other worse? Destroy each other? Fuck each other up beyond belief? It doesn't make sense does it, nor is it fair for y'all to praise these ships but hate on the others. You like watching the cookies crumble huh 😭

CANON

"The ship isn't canon!"- We know that, everyone should know that. With what I said earlier, please learn to separate fanon from canon. That's what a fandom is, we do non-canon stuff, it's very fun, you should try it.

"It's a Proship/Dark ship!"- Going the canon route, Beasts are Eons old, Ancients are thousands of years old. Big gap yes, but nonetheless all of them are old as fuck. Older than bloodlines. Treating the Ancients as if they aren't grown adults. You're intentionally trying to make it weird. Stop calling ships you don't like proships please.

Also a little off topic but please don't listen to everyone you interact with on TikTok?? I remember one time I was scrolling through a comment section and saw somebody say "Doesn't Mystic Flour Cookie hate Burning Spice Cookie?" On a MysticSpice vid, looked in the replies, somebody asked for proof/where it was implied, and they didn't answer 💀 just blatantly spreading misinformation. Sources around you are way more reliable than people who don't back up their claims.

CONCLUSION

Even despite all this, you still have the right to feel how you wanna feel. Just please stop harassing people for simple stuff like this, in all honesty, I feel like it's more about seeing one of your favorite characters shipped with somebody who hurt them in canon that makes peeps upset. Which I can totally understand because I used to be exactly like that, I LIVEEEE for Dark Cacao Cookie, when Mystic Flour's update came out, I wanted her dead. Quite literally blocked someone because I couldn't stand seeing their MysticCao art. Hated what she did to my baby boy fr.

But then It started growing on me, over time, I just realized it was never that serious.

Even so, notice how I still didn't go out of my way to harass said person about it because I specifically didn't like it? It really is that easy. Block and go about your day.

I also suspect this because of stuff like this 💀

Love that person who replied, but it's not that hard y'all. We all can in fact, get along.

ANYWAYSSSS thanks to those who took the time read, I love you my pookies hope you have a good day or night💕💕

#cookie run kingdom #shadowvanilla #burningcheese #mysticcacao #silentlily #pureshadow #hollysugar #beast x ancient #type shit

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booliuu · 5 months ago

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˗ˏˋToby Headcanons..PT2ˎˊ˗

ꪆৎ 𝙰/𝙽 : this is a continuation of my first headcanons oh him. Here’s the * link* if you haven’t check it out yet, btw thanks for almost 50 likes😭😭 you guys are so sweet!! anyways enjoy of me rambling about this man again :DD🫶🏼

• my inbox is open for ask and requests!!

* pictures i’m using: pinterest 🫶🏼

🪓 . . He’s a taurus baaabies ( b-day April 28th! mark your calendars right now !!) .. may i add something too👉👈 i just know in the bottom of my heart my man def has a sagittarius moon placement or lots of fire signs placements in his birth chart. SCORPIO VENUS TOO 👀👀 he loves so intenselyyy. okok anyways-

🪓 . . He has so many piercings!! I can definitely say on his face he has a septum , nostril , bridge ,and a snake bite 😮‍💨. And for his ears he has industrial, lobes ( thought about stretching his lobes but is too scared lol) and conches done.

➯ went a bit crazy with his piercing bc his parents were so against him getting them done during his high school years. But now that he’s an adult he goes all out.

➯ takes great care of them too! ^^

🪓 . . wears fingerless gloves to mange with his rlly bad hand picking habit. doesn’t have nails bc how bad his habits are :((. the goggles he wears protects his eyes . also wears a restraining mask, it stops him from bitting his hands , nails and….ppl i dare say ifykyk.

🪓 . . Owns a lot of graphic tee’s and most of them are bands that he never heard of before lmao same🥲. Whatever shirt he’s wearing that day , a creep or random ppl ask him what’s his favorite song or album is , he gets all awkward and he’s stands like an idiot like🧍.

➯ all sorts of baggy and ripped jeans as well ! Not a fan of tight clothes. Absolutely despises them.

🪓 . . has LOTS of scars that goes all the way back from his childhood.

🪓 . . Him & Tim before DID NOT get along at all. MAJOR BEEF WITH EACH OTHER 😭. whenever both of them were assigned on missions together, they ALWAYS be arguing about the littlest things.

* this is looong sorry ><i just love the idea that tim cares for toby. so bare with meee🥹🥹

➯ Mainly because tim behavior rubs toby the wrong way. It reminds him of his father in some ways and gets highly defensive whenever tim tells him what to do or criticizes him.

➯ Tim thinks toby as a ruthless teenager ( even though he clearly knows he an adult.) thinks he needs to be told what to do at all times . Even though he a rough exterior … little does toby know he cares about him a lot. But of course there both to stubborn as hell to tell each that 😑.

➯ until one day toby accidentally let a victim loose. when tim found out , he got extremely upset at toby. The yelling definitely brought Toby thoughts of his father, as a defense mechanism toby argued back . Got a bit physical but overall LOTS of yelling, brian ( the savior-) had to step in and tell them to get over it and be nice to each for once.

➯ took a WHILE for them to apologize but they did eventually. was a bit awkward but hey at least there over it :,D . Now of days they almost have a father and son dynamic. Sometimes when both of have free time tim will show toby how to fix up a car, how to cook on a grill , yk bonding.

➯ brings Toby lots of nostalgia and confusion because he never treated like this by a man before bc the only nice people he was surrounded by in his whole life was just his mom and his sister . so surely his inner child is slowly healing. when he actually took a chance and thought about tim’s behavior towards him one night, he had to sit down for bit , beer in hand ( definitely not given by tim-) cry for a bit while tim rubs his back in comforting way while smoking a cigarette ofc.

🪓 . . owns torn up converse and doc martens. TONS of hoodies, leather jackets and winter jackets!

🪓 . . HIS ROOM!! oh good god…it’s so unorganized. mostly because his collection of clothes he picked up over the years that he “borrowed” TvT iykyk… never bothers to clean it. his own words not mine

Toby: “ it’s my man c-cave. my rules.”

Tim: *SIGHS* “ jesus fucking christ….. your a mess.”

🪓 . . Speaking of his room it has lots of band posters and tapestry’s!

🪓 . . Knows so much animals facts.. it’s actually scary but entertaining.he literally bring up in random ways possible. that’s toby for yea..!! :DD

🪓 . . His favorite animals consists of what’s around him in the slender forest. such deers, raccoons, fox & wolf , birds , bears and has a love for reptiles as well.

🪓 . . lol if your scared of bugs i feel sorry for you , reptiles or just any animals i have listed…he’s definitely the type of friend that has it cupped in his hand and shoving it in your face. Lives for your reaction. 🩷

🪓 . . a bit awkward and has a cold front when you first meet him. he likes to observe, doesn’t trust ppl easily. If he likes you, he eventually slowly open up his shell and he shows his true colors such being a little shit, teasing you playful ofc, butting head with you 24/7. eeehh..but if he hates you good luck with this one… he make it known he doesn’t like you . you won’t know but others who know him do.

🪓 . . Growing up he was known for being the shy quiet kid that never speaks up for himself. He thinks about it now and really started changing meaning slowly and eventually he became more confident. like throwing sarcastic comments , knows lots of good clap backs or calling out’s if someone offended him or something. he’s changed man guys nothing like his younger self. proud of him 🥹

🪓 . . I see ppl saying that he’s the kind of friend that wants to be around you 24/7. 100% agree 👍 . yk hanging out in yours or his rooms for like smoke breaks, joining you during missions, watching tiktok’s & sending them to you even though your in the same room as he is , or even just simply pure silent and just basking in each others presence.

Toby: t-t-this is so you…

Toby: * sents you a tiktok*

You: bruh wtfff

* cue him laughing his ass off

🪓 . . Going to the local drug store to grab some slushes and junk food. HE LIVES FOR THOSE HANGS OUTS. TELL ME IM WRONG.

› › › i’ll make sure to be more in depth with this one :3 so be in a look out for some platonic toby headcanons in the future!!! ^^

🪓 . . Everytime someone says toby loves waffles sighs…. man i’m telling you right now an angel loses it wings ☹️ 👎. He has extended food palette than that y’all c’mon.

🪓 . . i mean it’s not the best diet… it literally just energy drinks but at least his friends look out for him and leave him take out because they know he doesn’t feel hunger like we do.

🪓 . . due to that, he has a lean built. Has a bit of a 6 pack ( you have to squint to see em ) and has muscles on his arms . He’s really proud of his arms lol. Has a bit of beard?? Scruff?? idk what’s it’s called going on too ^^ shaves ones in a while. aaaand..hehe has a happy trail situation... ANYWAYSSSS that’s for next time 😉.

🪓 . . yk how how i said he has a collection of phones he… collected *cough🪓🪓 cough*… firm believer he has playlist in each phone of them that consists of western emo music. also.. DAD ROCK .

🪓 . . his favorite weather has to be autumn because the animals around forest comes out more and he hangs out and pets all of them. likes looking at the trees and how each of the leaves are changing colors.

🪓 . . his joints pop loud real bad whenever he stretching , walking , or running . it pisses him so badly lolll.

🪓 . . loves sleeping and taking naps🫶🏼 whenever or whatever. like tree tops , his bed, closet, ect. hates mornings with passion prefers to sleep in. toby 🤞power naps . downside being that he snores like no one business and moves around his sleep.

🪓 . . blind on his left eye and that same eye has a permanent split eyebrow from the car crash.

🪓 . . Even though i want say he smells like vanilla or something sweet naaah …. srry bby😔. he gotta smell like the woods , dirt, bl*od.. sometimes , or even pinewood. From time to time smells like cheap shampoo and conditioner when he remembers to shower.

🪓 . . lastly his hair.. HIS 👏HAIR 😭😭 it’s so soft…he’s rocking shaggy haircut that tim trims once in a while.

𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚜: @bloodibambiidol & @kodaswrld ✨ there stuff is cool check it out!

ꪆৎ 𝙰/𝙽 : HEEEEY IM BACK, i know posted 2-3?? days ago and honestly im so happy to it has so many likes already. thank you so much 🫶🏼 it means so much to me!! i’ll try to post as consistent as i can but no promises.😣As of right now my wips are a bunch of toby headcanons and one shots i need to finish and post and dw other characters too dww🤍🤍.

* if you like my content please don’t forget to like , reblog , and comment ^^.

liuuboo2025 ♡ﾟ

#₊‧꒰ა🍓 liu's post's #creepypasta #ticci toby headcanons #toby rogers #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta x reader #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby creepypasta #ticci toby fluff #toby erin rogers #creepypasta fandom #headcanons

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11queensupreme11 · 6 months ago

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Yes, I am making a reaction fic....... eventually lol

i know it says i started this back in 2023, but all i really did was make a cover. i didn't start making any chapters until a few months ago hehe

BUT ANYWAYS YES YOU READ THAT RIGHT! i am making a reaction/reading the books/watching the movies fic for arsenic blues!!!! in this case, it will be ror reacting to pjo

for anyone interested to learn more, go under the cut!

(this started off as me just giving you some info about cerulean cyanide, but then i ended up ranting about how much i loved the pjo tv show lol, soooo if you haven't watched it, don't go down)

first off, THIS IS MY FIRST TIME MAKING A REACTION FIC! i've read a lot of them, but i have no experience in actually making one. i'm kinda nervous ngl 😅

secondly, i've already started... somewhat. i've copied all chapters of the lightning thief into a google doc and made necessary edits, but i haven't written any reactions... YET. i want to include the ror gods AND humans as members of the audience, and since i haven't written about the ror humans as thoroughly yet, i won't be writing the reactions until i get to act 2 of arsenic blues, since that's when the ror humans are introduced. this is important for me because i don't have their characterizations down yet, and won't until i actually start writing about them and their dynamics with percy. same goes with cú chulainn, he's a literal love interest, but won't get introduced until act 2!

thirdly, because of what i said up there ^ cerulean cyanide won't be published until act 2 is finished to avoid spoiling what happens during ragnarok and the god's apocalypse.

fourthly, IT WILL BE INTERMIXED WITH THE TV SHOW!!! i fucking LOVED the show and (most of) the changes that were made, so i'm totally going to add them into percy's past that the ror characters will be reacting to.

so what elements of the show should you expect to see? glad you asked!

POSEIDON 💙

poseidon in the books is great, but i loooooove the new stuff they put in the tv show. in the books, we're mostly told that poseidon loves percy and there are times where it's shown, but it's kinda hard to pick up since the books are written in PERCY'S POV, and since poseidon is literally restricted from interacting with him, it's hard to notice how much he actually loves his son when he's not even allowed to be AROUND the dude who's perspective takes up the whole series.

but in the tv show, it's not just percy's perspective that's explored! that little moment poseidon had with sally told us SOOOO MUCH about how he actually felt for the both of them. and when he and percy finally met??? THE ANGST AND LONGING THEY BOTH SHOWED UHDFSIGVSVGD I LOVED IT SO MUCH

AND THE FACT THAT HE NOT ONLY SAVED PERCY FROM ZEUS BUT ALSO SURRENDERED??? HE GAVE UP HIS PRIDE AND PRIDE IS SUCH A HUGE AND IMPORTANT THING FOR GODS BUT HE GAVE IT UP WITH NO HESITATION AHHHHHHH 😭

so yes, expect to see a lot of the poseidon scenes from the tv show

HERMES BEING AT THE LOTUS CASINO

i actually really like the fact that hermes was shown in here instead of the next season. some people were confused as to what the point was for having him in the casino and why he tricked the kids into staying at the casino longer, but i found this post on tumblr that explains why he could've been there:

in the last olympian, we (and percy) find out that hermes knew all along what luke's fate would be; that he would rebel against the olympians, bring forth kronos, become his host, etc. he knew ALL OF THAT. but he was never allowed to tell him (ancient laws), so he tried to CHANGE luke's fate in order to save him even though he knew it was pointless.

we get a bit of that in the tv show. hermes was there because he wanted to change luke's fate. he tricked the kids into staying at the casino longer so they would pass the deadline. war would come, and luke would get away with his thievery and nobody would know it was him because they're all too busy trying to kill each other. but ofc, like always, it didn't work because you can never change fate.

i love how the show showed us that hermes was trying to change his fate in the first season whereas in the books, it only started in the second book where he was introduced for the first time.

THE GODS' CRUELTY AND THEIR LOVE

the gods' cruelty and apathy was much more obvious in the show's first season compared to the first book. in the first book, most of the gods shown were jerks at best but the tv show really showed us how horrible of a family they are (most of them at least) to each other and their kids

like what show!ares said, his family loves to stab each other in the back, they love to hurt each other to get a higher leg up; they're not really a family. the audience and percy becomes VERY aware of that unlike in the books where it's more sugar-coated at the start.

we're shown very early on that they're not good people, but at the same time, we're shown that some of them DO care.

hephaestus was abused and mistreated by his family, but he refuses to be like them which is why he released percy from his trap; because he realizes that he and annabeth are good kids (ending the cycle). hermes loves his son and desperately wants to change his fate despite being told over and over again that its pointless. poseidon loves percy and wishes to be a proper family with him and sally, but isn't allowed to.

there are some good gods out there, which is why percy decided to stand by them instead of taking luke's offer to bring it all down. he's been shown that some gods ARE good. unlike in the first book where you don't really meet any decent gods, so book!percy honestly didn't have much of a reason to defend them, yet he did anyway when luke left camp. the show gave him (and us) a better reason to actually defend them

in the show, he's exposed to the god's cruelty, but he sees that it's not as black and white as he once thought "oh all the gods are bad and none of them care for their kids >:(", he sees the good in some of them and it's enough to make him want to save them instead of letting them crash and burn (like luke, who's blinded by his anger and hatred *cough cough* fatal flaw!!!! *cough cough*).

LUKE AND PERCY'S RELATIONSHIP

SHOW!LUKE WAS SO MUCH BETTER THAN BOOK!LUKE IMO.

book!luke was trying to kill percy very early on and was pretty much pretending to be his friend the whole time. yes his intentions and character get fleshed out as the books go on, but his relationship with percy... didn't offer much.

then there's show!luke who genuinely liked him and wanted to recruit him rather than kill him (that's why there's no scorpion scene). his betrayal was more personal and painful for percy. the fact that annabeth was there to watch it all happen was even better (not for her though LOL).

(and dont even get me started on how show!luke didn't hate grover like in the books. the genuine fear in his eyes when he found out that percy gave the shoes to him and the way his eyes got all misty??? he fully blames thalia's "death" on him and him only THE ANGUISH WAS SO 😭😭😭)

AND I THINK THAT MIGHT BE ALL?

so yes, these are some of the changes you should expect to see!

i wanna really contrast how different things are between the ror and pjo verse. ror gods are very close and tight-knit whereas the pjo gods are... well, "a mess" as percy so eloquently put it.

ror gods aren't forced under the tyrannical rule of zeus, their zeus is chill and just wants to have fun. they have no restrictions to follow and their divine laws aren't as oppressive

whereas pjo gods are under the tyrant rule of zeus and can't even interact with their kids.

ror gods are independent while pjo gods have to rely on the preservation of western civilization to stay alive and use demigods to break rules, etc etc.

pjo gods (some, at least) are kinder and have no issues falling in love with humans and loving their demigod children while ror gods are cruel assholes who commit genocide against humanity despite being the ones to create them

and etc etc.

ANYWAY, I HOPE YOU GUYS ARE AS HYPED UP AS I AM!!!! 🥳🥳🥳 can't wait to start writing reactions for the first time ever 🫨

#👸🏻| arsenic blues #👸🏻| writing

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callizinc · 2 months ago

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so how do you interpret the significance of the themes in ena overall. like potential messaging. and how does dream bbq interact with the themes established in the youtube series.

i’ve seen people say they interpret it as anything from commentary on immigration (particularly how immigrants are treated poorly) to like, internet culture, or autism, or whatever really. i noticed a lot of people relate their own experiences to it. it’s cool how many different interpretations people get out of it (even if folks get a little in the weeds about the symbolism sometimes, and personally i’m not as focused on potential symbolism as the worldbuilding in itself)

This is an absolutely diabolical (/positive) ask to send me . This is like opening the floodgates to world's largest and most dangerous dam. Oh my goodness gracious

WELL!! That is of course such a good and cool question!! to be honest, i hope i can answer it sufficiently, since i've spent the most time thinking about Specific things in dbbq so far as opposed to the bigger and greater picture—But here's the thoughts i have about all that at present!

I guess, for one, i think interpreting the series to be commentaries on immigration, internet culture, and/or neurodivergence and the like are all completely fair and valid. I don't have much to say about those interpretations at the moment myself, but still, I think they're all interesting in their own right! I also agree 100% that it's super cool how many interpretations people have; even if i. Don't vibe with all of them LOL, i genuinely really like how much thought it inspires!

Right now, i can't help but interpret the game as a commentary on unhealthy work/life balances and abusive work dynamics. Which feels like the most obvious interpretation possible but... still LOL.

Ena's literal only moods are "smooth talking salesperson obsessed with work" and "pissed at everyone because of her stupid job she doesn't even like". There's her line where she goes "Oh, I am no longer the boss of myself" with extreme nonchalance, Not to mention she goes to The Club one single time and has a breakdown and starts like. turning into branches or something ("I need to get back to my deplorable job... I can't afford another moment of joy.." LIKE GIRL...).

We don't even know what her job... Is? like obviously she's a salesperson but, What is she supposed to be selling? and i know they have the slot machines and everything, but what does her Business even Do? The fact that none of this is clear IS amusing, but i also feel like it represents how her job, ultimately, is Not of importance. Nothing she's doing is of true value to herself, nor to others, but she commits her entire life to her shitty job anyway, leaving no room to even consider breaks or ANY life Outside of work ("any good business should be open all hours" ...).

Not to mention how. you know. Everybody hates her 😭 WHICH IS A WHOLE CAN OF WORMS ON ITS OWN, But i feel it also fits into this interpretation; She, for whatever reason, commits her life to work, the thing you're Supposed to do to be a valuable member of society, so to say, yet it gains her no respect, no benefits, seemingly nothing good at all. Maybe she works so hard to try to gain the respect of others, even though, just like how our capitalistic workplaces will chew you up and spit you back out, and no matter how hard you work, those people will never truly care about you.

However, the references to violence in regards to Ena are also important, i think, with the "I'm not doing ANYTHING!" scene, and the fact that the game trailer shows two accounts of Ena wielding a gun, and also.. A shot of Ena as an armless crumbling green zombie in the same desolate landscape full of raining bullets.

I'm unsure where to go with that as of right now—mostly because I don't think the game would draw parallels between Specific real life events, I'd still want to ensure i'm being respectful if i am to start talking about something like war/soldier theming. Still, i think this has to be significant, there's two separate depictions of Ena wielding a gun in the game's trailer, and I truly don't know how to else you're meant to interpret the scenes of distressed and desolate Enas around giant knives and raining bullets LOL

...I also just remembered you also asked how DBBQ's themes interact with the youtube series's themes, But. i feel embarrassed enough already having written this much. and also I don't know. About that one. I don't knowwwww. So um. I'm gonna stop here 😭

#IM SORRY THIS GOT SO LONG I HOPE YOU DONT MIND! But. ...Like i said this question IS like opening the floodgates for me LOL #So thank you Very much for the ask!! thank you :D This was a blast to answer and i hope you enjoy these interpretations too!!#Honestly like . Someone ask me this same question in like. a month or two when ive had even more time to Ponder everything #im sure ill have more stuff to say then.... Whether it will be Good stuff is debatable. but ill deffo at least have even more Thoughts LOL #ena dream bbq #ena #dream bbq #ena joel g #Thank you again so much for the ask :D i appreciate it!!#askbox #analysis

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kaiju-krew · 11 months ago

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So I know this is like, a month late (forgot to ask when you posted the pic lol), but what's up with Labra? He got like a backstory, lore, or something like that? I'm curious and wanna know more abt him.

drew him again :3c

UHMMM yes i am lore building for him........ i haven't decided everything yet but i know i want him to be a distant cousin species of goji's. everyone's fangoji lore is different but i def imagine him as a part of my personal monsterverse au rather than existing in his own world with no friends haha loser

putting a cut here so i dont spam people's feeds lmao

likeeee for comparison it's probably similar to Crocodylia encompassing crocodiles, alligators, and gharials?? labra is in a similar niche to zilla for me. goji is the largest/apex species of the gojiran order, whereas zilla & labra are smaller and occupy a different niche. Big bruiser lion vs. carcal or lynx type thing.

my hc is that the vast majority of labra's species (pre-mutation art is what they looked like) was wiped out when ghido got into hollow earth. which is also the same time he wiped out most of the divine moths and a couple other species :''(

it ended with ghido iced but it fucked up the hollow earth ecosystem for a while and led to a lot more radiation leakage since he tore the place up real bad. labra was Almost Dead and ended up hibernating to recover by a radiation vent, but he'd laid down in feldspar vein that kinda grew to cover him and turned to labradorite and idk magic radiation nonsense it fused with him and caused him to grow/mutate.

the ghido massacre also caused battra to hibernate/mutate too so it's a Big Event in my silly au world. most of the kaiju that are clearly a result of mutation fuckery (biollante, kessho too) may be related to it as well but i haven't fully fleshed it out yet. it would mostly be based around goji's hyper-regeneration doing the thing where like.. if a big enough chunk of him gets lobbed off and has access to energy it mutates and tries to regenerate and causes a fucked up clone siblings thing idk omg ok i'm in tangent city good god sorry i was supposed to be talking about my gay son

ANYWAYSSSSSS for more general hc/character stuff: >labra is genuinely terrified of ghido and even gets freaked out when he hears wing beats without warning. (mosu beats rodan's ass bcuz he divebombs labra for fun sometimes) >he lives on monster island and ventures down to hollow earth sometimes, but he won't return to his old home because it just reminds him everyone else of his species is gone. (he isn't even his own species anymore bcuz of the mutation. so they're basically extinct.) >he loves swimming and sometimes just lays in the shallows to absorb sunlight. stretches out like a lazy ass cat. cat boy behaviour >he's loyal to goji and doesn't start shit with humans unless they attack first. even then he does his best to steer clear. >mothra likes his dorsal plates and talks with him sometimes (Moth Therapy) they can bond over ghido hating it's a good time >he has a mutually bitch-bother dynamic with rodan where rodan bothers the shit outta him until he manages to grab that turkey and idk sits on him or something. but if rodan really pisses him off he doesn't mind actually throwing hands because he knows goji won't care if he puts the bird in it's place. >he also likes angy, zilla, and bio a lot too.

there's more but i'll stop there for nowwwww

tldr: big gay lizard is traumatized but doing ok ig

#kai talks #labragoji #my son...my boy....#he needs a bf the shipping goblin in my brain demands it #i think angy mainly bcuz their gijinka designs are dope together and ill make the kaiju stuff work later LMAOOO #anyways. if u read all my nonsense lore ily

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mikuni14 · 1 month ago

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My Stubborn - Ep 3

There are many theories about Sorn and Jun, which I read with pleasure, but I admit that I have no theories about them - and especially about Sorn. It's just that when I watch them, I feel like I'm seeing some old-school style yaoi manga and manha come to life, as well as fanfics, the kind that are rarely adapted, because they often border on problematic and toxic vibes. I think that the series handles this problem quite smoothly and doesn't cross the line, after which fun stops being fun and starts being cringe and uncomfortable. Sorn and Jun are a couple that I have seen many times on manga and manhwa pages. Sorn is a classic seme: he is handsome, rich, sexually experienced, self-controlled in bed and focused on providing pleasure to his partner, on top of that he is extremely confident, arrogant and cocky. He is also aggressive, cheeky and have no filter. Jun is a classic uke: he's sweet, he's not rich, he's sexually inexperienced but eager, people are attracted to him and he's also outspoken, rebellious and therefore charming and interesting, which of course catches the attention of the seme. Their relationship is also familiar to me: their first sexual encounter, which determines their future and changes their relationship and dynamic on many levels (mostly unconscious by them, which doesn't change the fact that a fundamental change has occurred in them and nothing will ever be the same), and their reunion and the establishment of a complicated relationship from which neither of them can (and doesn't want to! although again - this is also unconscious) get out. Sorn being controlling, super possessive and territorial, but also caring, providing, and Jun being clueless, silly, rebellious and also very sweet and irresistible - this is all classic of the classic 💖 They are both obviously very interested in each other. Since they are still young and horny, their relationship is very erotic, but the emotional element that was already visible years ago is still there and it gets stronger as their relationship grows stronger and more complicated. Their shared past, characters, personalities, their environment, views on relationships, prejudices, long-established opinions about each other (Sorn thinks Jun is a kid, Jun thinks Sorn is an asshole and they are both right lol), and potential traumas from the past that we may not know about yet - all of this prevents them from analyzing their feelings, the reasons why they are jealous of each other, why they are so drawn to each other, why Sorn is so possessive, and Jun allows all the things that Sorn does to him. The excuse of "we have sex as part of sex education, we sleep together in the same bed, we spend a lot of time together, we eat together, we kiss at every opportunity, we want to be exclusive" but "we're not together and we're constantly fighting and arguing" makes me want to punch them and kiss them at the same time 😭 (is also such a classic, if I dig through my old mangas I'm sure I'll find something with a plot like that).

Sorn and Jun act like an old married couple when they're together. But nooooo, they're just fuck buddies, no strings attached, but still furiously jealous of each other. Gosh, watching these idiots is pure pleasure.

(The second couple is also classic btw).

Despite the fact that Sorn and Jun are so stupid when it comes to the "love stuff" and that their lack of insight, analysis of their own feelings and ignoring them will eventually bite them in the ass, I really like their lively and non-boring relationship, especially its sexual aspect. The fact that they both talk about it so much, the fact that Sorn is so focused on providing Jun with pleasure, that he is gentle and sensual with him, that he stops when Jun tells him to stop is just *chef's kiss*. I like that they are both hyper aware of themselves and their closeness, of their bodies. I also like Jun's exploration of his sexuality, his curiosity and his actions based on that curiosity. Maybe I like them because they are well cast, I think the actors are perfectly suited to these roles. I don't know, I just enjoy watching them, and as someone who was raised on problematic fanfiction and manga, I feel particularly pampered 😇

The series provides me with so much fun that really, I have no theories about the characters, the plot, I just fully enjoy this rare BL series, in which there is a perfect balance of fun, romance and sex, all presented in a classic form that has a special place in my heart.

(Piang turned out to be a very likeable character, I enjoyed his conversation with Jun.)

*massages temples* dumbasses 😌

#my stubborn #my stubborn the series #bl drama #thai bl

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lambmotifz · 3 months ago

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tell me! when in your spn watch did you stop and went "huh" for those brothers? how was your journey to wincest land? 🤍

(gurl it's winpocalypse here unfortunately tumblr doesn't give sideblogs the power to send asks lol that's why i never send any :(

honestly, i got into wincest because of the mostly unpopular reasons—at the time i joined the fandom at least. most of the people were shipping it because of “sam being insane”, but i’ve always interpreted his “insane” actions in s3-4 as a consequence of trauma & guilt. i never saw sexual wincest as anything but a very much one sided dynamic & mostly coming from dean and his treatment/views of sam. i remember watching the show for the first time and being weirded tf out by how physically touchy and possessive towards sam he was. the way he’s obsessed with feminizing sam (which, turns out, was intentional because the writers openly & blatantly compared sam to a girl/wife in the context of their dynamic). dean basically claiming sam as his bitch in that one scene in prison (yeah that’s very brotherly ig). his smug smile when henriksen says sam is like bonnie to his clyde. he’s such a freak i love him :)

also playthings (of course). it was the first time when i’ve thought of the possibility of these two actually getting sexual. dean manhandles drunk sam on the bed and sam arches his back and pushes his ass out (completely obliviously mind you) and then the scene immediately cuts to dean looking at him with this…unreadable expression. i’ve never been the same after seeing playthings

ahbl was also a big part why i got into wincest. dean selling his soul & bringing sam back to life was one of the most romantic yet cruelest things he ever did: sam finally managed to “get out” of the life he never wanted (even if it meant dying), only to be forced back into it again because his obsessive brotherhusband can’t live without him. it’s so deliciously tragic but also romantic in a twisted dean coded way, i am forever in love with late s2-s3 angst

and then i watched sex & violence aka THE wincest episode. something something sam is a little brother but also a lover and a wife all in one (i giggled when they made a parallel between him and the woman who was killed by her husband while he was under the siren’s influence. kripke wasn’t even trying to be subtle!). sam is something dean desires most which could mean nothing, except the whole episode is extremely freudian & sexually charged and there are plenty of delicious metaphors

and then the show pretty much confirmed wincest to me with dean’s “whatever it is” ♡

#ty for the ask i really enjoyed answering this :)#wincest #samdean #spn

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opheliaandthesun · 10 days ago

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#gallavichintro tag

I saw this tag going around and I'm definitley new here so thought I'd join and introduce myself :) Although I'm very indecisive when it cames to choosing my favorite blank so bare with me pls 😅

Name: Ophelia (she/her)

Age: 24

What made you fall in love with Gallavich? Im a sucker for couples that feel like true soulmates. That go through ups and downs and fight through all these shitty things but can never let go of each other. Like no matter what, they just *get* one another on a level that no one else does, and their love spans the good and the bad and the ugly and it's beautiful. They love so fiercely and always come back to each other.

How long have you been a fan? A few months... so, im very new to all of this. I just saw one gallavich edit on tiktok and it changed my brain chemistry immediately. Maybe I'll burn out soon but finding this fandom on tumblr and being able to discuss it here has been so much fun and such a good escape in a complicated time in my life so I'm enjoying the ride.

Favourite Gallavich moment/scene? Just one is hard, they have so many eras.. I'd say the pier seen in s7 is definitely a favorite. Honorable mentions to Ian visiting Mickey in juvie in S1, and the surprise wedding anniversary party.

Favourite Shameless character apart from Ian and Mickey? I'm between Fiona and Lip.. They are both infuriating at times but there is some aspect of being the older sibling that i definitely relate to. Fiona always with the world on her shoulders and never being recognized. Lip's burden from everybodys expectations turning into self sabotaging. They just deserved so much better growing up and it fucked them up and put them at odds but seeing them try and hustle everytime is pretty awesome.

Do you write or draw or make edits? I have written for other fandoms (and then done an edit or drawing to accompany a fic), but not yet for Gallavich. It's too soon, I need months of ruminating to start writing lol

Favourite type of Gallavich fics? I love post-cannon husbands day in the life one shots. Love early seasons missing scenes. Ive read a bunch of soulmark fics even tho they are mostly all the same but are always cute. Love fics of Milkovich/Gallagher family dynamics and external povs on gallavich.

Favourite Gallavich quote? Another though one.. Most things out of Mickeys mouth are iconic. "Fuck you is what you were invited for" "I'll rip your tongue out of your head" "You're under my skin man, tf can I do" "I love you and the sonofabitch is never gonna let me be happy so he needs to die, TODAY" "It's my job to worry, your my husband"

Anything else you’d like to share about yourself? I usually go wherever my brain wants to, so I love to discuss Gallavich but will also talk about other shows Im interested in at the moment or my other core ships. Right now Im binging Supernatural, but The 100 (Bellarke) has been my n°1 for years. So dont be scared if you follow me and non-gallavich content shows up lol

#gallavichintro #gallavich

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half-dead-writer · 3 months ago

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Author's Note

Scourge might be a bit OOC here, I dunno. First time writing him lol Also let's go the boring way and say Scourge spent some time in jail before being let out for good behavior. He's still an edgehog and asshole but he's aware he can't just go out ordering people around. He's an acquired taste.

And here's me once again changing the fandom for my fics woops

House Party

You and Scourge have a good time at Sonic's party.

character: Scourge The Hedgehog (Sonic The Hedgehog) words: 3,588 reader: gender-neutral warnings: loosely written cuz it's my first sonic fic and i can do what i want, brief Sonadow and Rougamy, briefest angst by the end cuz I wanted to explain why Fiona's not here

Scourge being attendant of Sonic's houseparty was a surprise to say the least. It's true he changed, at least a bit, but you couldn't blame anyone for not forgiving him yet, still treating him with understandable wariness. Scourge didn't really care. He mostly entertained the invite just because it was something to kill the time, free booze and snacks included. The visible negativity reflecting in the other guests' eyes served him some sort of pride, reminding him of his previous days of glory, even if it was a stretch. He didn't mind being an outcast. He didn't. And the biggest factor for him to come. You were also at the party.

You and him had some history. Mostly consisting of him getting on your nerves. It was a playful banter, at least in his mind. He tested your limits, but never pushed hard enough to cross a line. With this dynamic, he was drawn to you every chance he got. Some teasing here and there, not respecting personal space, typical Scourge flirting techniques. But it wasn't serious. You noticed he was a flirt, and as far as you knew, he was dating Fiona. There was no way Scourge was serious, and both of you knew that. The alternative was Scourge cheating on Fiona, with you, which was an even worse option. You were not gonna be a side piece.

After Scourge got out of jail, and he got properly reintroduced to the group, he expected you to look at him with the same disapproval others had shown him. Who else was he, if not a criminal, after all? But, to his surprise, although your demeanor was reluctant and a bit awkward after not seeing each other for so long, there was no disgust or fear while interacting with the green hedgehog.

You were a very patient person, he came to realize. At first, he saw it as a weakness, someone easy to exploit and endure his antics, but you made sure to show him it wouldn't be easy. You still had some backbone, and made it pretty clear you were not gonna deal with his bullshit. He took the hint, even though it mildly bruised his ego. He couldn't unleash his rage on you, as much as he'd like in that moment. He was supposed to be in control, always. But the years spent in jail proved that the tables may turn on him just as well, and he wasn't gonna learn this lesson again. Fortunately for him, a bit of respect got him a long way. As long as he kept in mind your boundaries, you didn't hold any ill will towards him. You treated him like an equal. It was still hard to admit he saw you as a friend, but he could at least say you were his ally.

So, naturally, as soon as he arrived at Sonic's house, his objective was to find you. Moving through the party crowd like a snake slithering to it's prey, he spotted you, leaning against a wall, cradling a red cup in your hands. You didn't seem particularly bothered, probably just recharging away from all the ruckus. Your attention shifted to him as soon as the green blur came into your view.

"Oh, hi," you turned to face him, a friendly, relaxed grin adorning your lips. Even though Scourge was far from being a good influence, he was still a welcome sight. More often than not, you found him entertaining, which kept your opinion of him in a somewhat positive light.

"I see your majesty has decided to bless us with his presence tonight." You tried to joke lightheartedly. In the recent days you opened up to the hedgehog a lot, letting your silly side shine through a bit more. It was a regular occurrence for you to banter back and forth, just like the old times, except this time it had a lot more comradery than the tasteless flirting in the past. It was actually pretty enjoyable, a game of push and pull.

"All hail the king, baby." He bared his sharp teeth in a content smirk, deciding to join your side, his body leaning against the wall next to you. "Couldn't leave you to enjoy the party by yourself now, could I? It'd be mighty boring for everyone here." His gaze focused intently on the item in your hands, before he made an attempt to swipe it out of your grasp. You looked at him as he sniffed the cup, appalled expression on your face. He still had his past audacity, but you couldn't say you didn't expect it. You noted he only acted this way with you. He didn't actually have the balls to start anything with people who still obviously didn't trust him. Seemingly, he trusted you enough to tolerate his brash behavior.

"Hey, that's mine." You argued, crossing your arms in a petty display of annoyance.

"You already had your share, I just arrived." He scoffed, offended. Although he didn't let go off the stolen cup, he looked at you for a moment, as if asking for a silent permission. You didn't care that much for the leftover alcohol in there, so with an exasperated sigh, you let your arms fall down, choosing to just ignore it. He took it as a green light, gulping the liquid in one quick swoop.

"Of course you'd be drinking the weakest shit in here. Was there even any alcohol in it, or was it just a soda?" His shit-eating grin was just a bit less mean than the ones he gave you before his time in jail. It was his way of showing you his jab wasn't that serious.

"You got it for free, and you're still complaining?" You quipped back, one eyebrow raised to show how unamused you were. You heard a chuckle in response.

"Let's get you some real booze, eh?" He backed off the wall, heading to the nearest table that held the desired drinks.

In no time, you found yourself enjoying the time spent with Scourge. It became even more bearable with a few shots of vodka. Laughter filled the room when you and him came up with the stupidest jokes, probably bothering anyone within your earshot. And much to Scourge's surprise, with you around, he didn't even think of the party as a waste of time. Caught in a good mood, you two were open to joining the game the others had set up.

A different take on spin the bottle. It starts with a group of people sitting in a circle, with one person throwing the bottle into a whirl, forcing it to reveal the partner for the real game. The game of jenga. The loser would have to tell the truth, or do a dare, depending on which one they chose. Of course, a game of jenga would seem boring in comparison to the kissing game, but the alcohol coursing through everyone's veins made the show very entertaining. The rivalry born from this competition would probably stay with both opponents even after the party ended.

Shadow lost against Sonic. He chose dare, not trusting Sonic to choose an adequate question. His dare consisted of eating a chili dog. He wasn't thrilled about it, but done the challenge with dignity. Sonic had the biggest grin when he said the food was acceptable. Another duo was Amy and Rouge. The tough battle chose Amy as the loser, and the pink hedgehog chose the truth. The bat's eyes shone with mischief as she whispered her question to Amy, who's cheeks became as rosy as her last name. Amy revealed her answer, too quiet for anyone but the bat to hear it. Rouge passed you the bottle and then shifted her attention back to the coy Amy.

You were prepared to beat anyone in this room, hoping the luck would be on your side this time. When the bottle stopped perfectly on Scourge, you were met with the biggest, competitive grin.

"Don't think I'm gonna go easy on you." He didn't bother hiding his determination, blue eyes shining with newfound purpose.

"We'll see about that." You rebuffed, feeling a smile forming on your lips.

The battle was long, but eventually, the wooden blocks chose to betray you, ruining the pretty long tower with a dissatisfying sound. Scourge howled with laughter, his smug expression only infuriating you more. The cheap cologne assaulted your nostrils as he got closer. "Well, would you look at that. I won."

"Yeah, yeah, don't let it get to your head." You rolled your eyes, but the gesture wasn't that serious. He snickered to himself, obviously enjoying his victory.

"So, what shall it be?" His tone turned sickeningly sweet. "Truth, or dare?"

By now you had at least half of the room's attention on you. Being stuck between choosing a truth or dare from the green hedgehog was probably considered some form of torture by the other participants. Who knows what embarrassing things could Scourge come up with? Thinking over your options, you felt daring today. The booze made you let loose, naively hoping Scourge's dare wouldn't totally destroy your reputation. You had hoped the time spent with him proved something, that he wouldn't just throw you under the bus like that, just to get a chance to one up you.

"Dare." You said, nonchalantly. Some gasps were heard in the crowd, people obviously wondering whether you had lost your mind. Scourge, on the other hand, was positively intrigued by your bravery. He hummed in thought, resting his chin between his fingers.

"A dare, huh?" His smug look made you doubt your choice of words. "Alright. I can work with that." He got back into his sitting spot, stretching his legs as he plopped onto a pillow, giving some semblance of comfort against the hard ground. You followed his actions with your gaze, his ominous silence only fueling your curiosity about the challenge.

"I dare you to sit on my lap throughout the rest of the game." The words slid effortlessly off his tongue. His sight reamined on you, gauging your reaction. You couldn't deny, it was a bold request, but he could've gone with way worse.

Making your way to him with dignity, you wordlessly took a spot on his lap, not caring much to hold back your weight. He wanted it, after all. Scourge was positively surprised at how easy it was for him to get his wish. Making yourself comfortable, you leaned your back against his chest. You didn't expect him to be so warm, and actually pretty cozy. A pair of arms wrapped around you unexpectedly, keeping a solid but comfortable grip around your waist. The game continued, the guests mostly ignoring the uncanny display after they got their share of appalled looks.

Rest of the game went pretty smoothly. The bottle kept making rounds, throwing next challenges to both you and Scourge, each taking on different participants. But after each "tournament", both of you returned to your previous position. None of you really addressed what's going on between you two, silently enjoying your current circumstances. Scourge went as far as lazily leaning his chin against your shoulder as he judged the other competitors, an action that should probably bother you a lot more than it did. Somehow, it felt comforting.

After everyone had their turn at least twice, the party began to slowly die down. Exhaustion seeped into everyone's muscles, resorting to some of the people ending the night earlier, heading off to sleep. You and Scourge were one of the few people awake, still entangled in the now casual embrace. The elephant in the room made itself known as soon as the last few participants got up to get hydrated, leaving to their own sleeping spot. You knew you should probably get up, but the current position felt so nice, you didn't wanna let go.

Scourge was the one who broke the spell, muttering lazily into your ear. "I need to get a smoke."

Taking the hint, you got up. He did so as well with some trouble, losing balance in the process. You were inclined to give him a hand for support, but he managed to find his footing pretty quickly. You never thought you'd consider a drunk hedgehog this adorable.

As soon as you crossed the border to the outside, you felt the wind pass you by in the most uncomfortable sensation. Ignoring the goosebumps appearing on your skin, you leaned onto the nearby railing, waiting for Scourge to dig out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He passed you the pack in a silent offer. You took it.

He was courteous enough to light up your cigarette. You blew the smoke onto the cold air, briefly hugging your body with one arm in attempt to fend off the chill. Scourge leaned against the railing next to you, observing the visible puff of your breath mixed with the smoke. The night was quiet, the music now almost completely stopped. Not a word was spoken between you two, but it was a comfortable silence. You knew you were gonna look back on this memory fondly. Well, as fondly as you could with the cold distracting you at the moment.

Scourge seemed to notice your problem, the way your body shivered, along with your attempt to downplay it. It was nothing, you could handle it.

That was until you felt the familiar warmth creep up your side again, with Scourge's arm pulling you closer, letting you use his body as a personal heater. You wanted to comment on it, opening your mouth to come up with some witty quip, but there was nothing. You were left... kind of speechless. Such a small gesture, yet it spoke a lot about the progress in your relationship with the hedgehog. It wasn't to make a point, to start another bickering session. He simply... cared enough for you not to freeze. Which warmed your heart more than your body. Scourge's expression was left ambiguous, almost as if he didn't register his action at all. As if it was normal. Despite Scourge's hopes of you not commenting about it, his ear turned your way as soon as he heard your voice.

"...I see you're getting cold." You started, hoping it didn't sound too accusatory. It was a lighthearted remark, one to show that you were fine with the situation. He merely scoffed, taking a second to think of a response.

"You got it for free, and you're still complaining?" He looked for your reaction, obviously using your previous words. You couldn't help but chuckle, leaning closer into his embrace. Scourge's grip on you became less tense as he felt you accepting his touch.

"That's not a complaint," you clarified after taking a drag out of your cigarette, blowing the smoke the other way. "I'll take what I can get."

Scourge couldn't deny he felt a spark of affection towards your way, seeing how your features softened in an earnest smile. You were enjoying yourself, shamelessly. He was almost jealous of how carefree you looked.

"Well, enjoy it then." He puffed the smoke away, his tone almost somber. The energy has also drained from him as well, turning him into a somewhat mellowed out version of himself. Sleep was threatening to overtake him any minute now, which is why he wasn't as high alert as usual. He was actually honestly relaxed, the need for being in control swept away by the wave of exhaustion. It probably didn't count as pure relaxation, but the way he had you in his grasp just felt right. No strings attached, it seemed.

One fact had managed to slip your mind up until this point. What happened to Fiona? You realized too late you spoke your thoughts out loud, hearing a displeased grunt from the previously content Scourge. It was obviously not a topic he wanted to expand on, but you had no way to take it back.

"We broke up." Scourge muttered, a hint of his usual bite returning for just a minute, until it was covered by an uncaring facade. His grip on you tightened for a second, signalizing it was probably a very sour experience. I mean, they were pretty much codependent on each other. You couldn't imagine how rough it must've been, with everything else that has been on his plate.

"Oh." Was all you managed to say, regretting bringing the topic up.

"Not something I wanna think about it." He said, a feeble attempt to hide the flaring defensiveness. His expression was not betraying much, and at the same time disclosing a lot. The memory obviously brought back some pain that he'd rather not get into. That was fair. "Not when I managed to finally catch some break this month."

"Yeah, don't worry, I ain't gonna push. Uh, sorry for bringing it up." You reassured him, only getting an acknowledging, quiet grunt in response. A minute of tense silence passed by, and you began to worry you managed to break the mood of this so far pretty successful party, until you felt his body leaning against you. His chin rested on your shoulder once more, his chest pressed against your back, just like it did during the jenga wars. He sighed heavily through his nose, inevitably inhaling some of your scent. It was mixed with the alcohol and cigarettes, but it was still distinctively of you. The smell was comforting, although he would never admit it.

"I'm tired the fuck out. Wanna hit the hay?" He turned his head to you, your faces mere inches away. His tone might have sounded disinterested, but there was also a certain softness to it. The tired rasp in his voice was soothing, a big difference to his usual spunk. You knew not a lot of people got to experience Scourge in this state. You were lucky.

"Yeah," you nodded simply, going back to the warm house. Both of you were exhausted, your sole objective to find anywhere to sleep. You haven't really discussed the details beforehand, leaving you to search for any place that wasn't occupied by the already sleeping guests. Fortunately, you noticed the host.

"Oh, hey, still awake?" Sonic chimed in, his tone friendly but also obviously tired.

"Not for long," you started, offering a smile in return. "Got any free space to sleep?"

"Oh, um..." He looked around the place, his thought process visible out in the open. "Let's see..." He sped off to get some pillows and blankets, putting them on the carpet. It was an unoccupied corner near the wall. Small and slightly further away from the other guests.

"Sorry, the best spots are already taken." He pointed at the couch, housing at least 3 other mobians in there.

"Anything works, really." You laid down on the soft (as much as it could be) ground, your sore muscles getting a rest from being up all night. Scourge's sight jumped from you to Sonic, his brow raised in an obvious question.

"And where do I sleep?" He asked bluntly, not bothering to sugarcoat his question. Sonic did not have that privilege yet.

"You're sleeping here." You stated, sure of yourself, moving your body to make some space. You were way too tired to care. Scourge, even if surprised, didn't show it. His knees bent on their own and in no time he was laying next to you, his eyelids threatening to close any minute. Sonic, noticing he wasn't needed anymore, offered a sleepy goodnight and headed to his bedroom. Scourge grumbled something in return, but it was hardly a goodbye.

Finally having a moment to rest, you recalled all the good times from tonight, slowly succumbing to slumber. Your hazy train of thought was disrupted by Scourge's quiet rasp.

"Guess all I needed was some alcohol to get you to sleep with me." You didn't even have to open your eyes to sense his stupid grin. You scoffed, but a smile occupying your lips betrayed you weren't about to reprimand him.

"I expect you to take me to dinner afterwards." You replied with your own playful remark, hearing him barely stifle the chuckle to not wake up the others.

"Oh, you're expecting a lot then." He quipped back, rotating his body to face you. Opening your eyes, you could barely make out his amused features in the dark, but the close proximity definitely helped. Somehow, it didn't push you away. It made you want to get even closer. Not commenting on your actions, you scooted closer, deciding that Scourge's chest was way comfier than the old pillow Sonic gave you. You didn't miss the way his breath hitched when your arm carelessly fell on his waist.

"You sure you haven't drank too much tonight? The hangover's gonna be a hell of a bitch to deal with tomorrow." He teased, trying to regain some confidence in his voice. He did enjoy the superiority he felt in the current circumstances, but this territory was unknown. Usually people recoiled in disgust, not willingly crawled up to him.

"You sure you wanna ruin the moment?" You were too tired for your casual bickering, resorting to painful bluntness, sure that it would shut him up.

It did.

After concluding he did not have a valid response, defeated, he resorted to putting his arm loosely on your side after a cynical chuckle.

Whether you knew it or not, Scourge considered this night a win.

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