#//wanted to give some backstory to his form

[mages-pandoras-box]

FLASHing Lights

(closed starter for @queenbeeibee)

Barry Allen didn't know how he got here. Well, the party, at least. He knows why he's in Hell. He's done things, terrible things. Some while under someone else's control, some with his own free will.

Sacrifice a handful to save millions. 

Of course, that was never Barry's intention in those different moments, but it still happened. So now Barry Allen, 'The Flash,' was in Hell - in a new form.

Barry's form was feline-based. Due to his superspeed powers, he assumed the form of a cheetah. It was lazy and on the nose, but Barry couldn't see himself as anything else. His fur was dark gray with red dots and tear stripes running from his eyes to his mouth. His legs were digitigrade, and he had a long tail.

Barry still had brown hair, but now it looked similar to an animal's mane. His clothing matched his old super suit: a red top with his lightning bolt symbol and crimson jeans.

Black vein-like markings wrapped around his eyes, temple, and ears. The eyes themselves were solid black with two little white pinpricks for pupils. Barry had stubby yet powerful black claws to match, and his teeth, while healthy, were pitch black. Whenever he used his powers, his lighting was now ghostly white with a dark aura.

The traits were from a villain named Bloodwork, who'd taken control over Barry and had him do the worst of his sins. If Hell was made for torment, the constant reminder of his actions as a Blood Brother did the trick.

Barry wandered around the party, slightly awed by the bouncing music and its size. His vibes were off. His flavor would be something sour, like green apples or even rotten food.

Most of the hellhounds were snarling at him. The old Cats vs Dogs shitstorm, so Barry couldn't really sit anywhere. So he resorted to walking around.

He really, really had no idea what he was doing.

#fastest man alive; barry allen #FLASHing Lights #//sorry if its a bit long #//wanted to give some backstory to his form #//sense you've never seen The Flash #//hope this is okay :)

[ziracona]

Iirc Griffin did something similar in Amnesty, when Aubrey succeeded on a roll that should've saved another character's life, but it didn't work and I don't think they ever explained why

Yeah!! And in Amnesty, Ned used a point of LUCK. To get a 12. That in MOTW is a guaranteed success. You do not take harm in Protect Someone if you use luck. Also, a fucking shotgun does not DO 7 points of harm anyway. It’s 3. And he fucking KILLED him. Never forgiving Griffin for that one >.>

#that’s not just cheap it’s /explicitly/ against the rules #I don’t ever like if a DM is giving ‘me vs you’ vibes to the players in any form but cheating and lying is the worst #ask #anonymous #like dgmw I love Griffin and most of the time quite enjoy his DMing but several times he has now made me /boiling/ mad #not super happy about the way he has handled Devo’s religious trauma either. like Travis is great #incredible character. he’s got some huge flaws but you also get why Devo is how he is and sometimes he’s super right. but Griffin has too #much been like ‘what if the church wasn’t so bad : )’ like Travis had to /push/ for the flashback trauma scene w Guidance to be something #upsetting and abusive. like let him have a history #taz amnesty spoilers #also not a fan of his new ‘no backstories’ thing #like yeah it can get too much or awkward but they can also be great??? you don’t want to live in them but you want them to give you a rich #basis for where the charcater in-story starts. ??? it causes no issues if you do that? #and it’s fun to occasionally have them be relevant even just for a goofy one off. I had a player be a changeling who had helped a coup in #another country and her co-revolutionary she was with and close to turned on her for racial reasons bc she was a changeling when he found ou #out and tried to kill her and they have a mutual ‘if I ever see you again’ and the experience dramatically influenced how she interacted w #other characters in the campaign bc baggage. but she never even /brought it up/ to a Pc or npc. it’s just rich character to work with #you gotta trust players and yourself a little not let having details overwhelm a story it’s not hard #and if it starts to happen it ain’t hard to correct

[writingwithfolklore]

5 Tips for Creating Intimidating Antagonists

Antagonists, whether people, the world, an object, or something else are integral to giving your story stakes and enough conflict to challenge your character enough to change them. Today I’m just going to focus on people antagonists because they are the easiest to do this with!

1. Your antagonist is still a character

While sure, antagonists exist in the story to combat your MC and make their lives and quest difficult, they are still characters in the story—they are still people in the world.

Antagonists lacking in this humanity may land flat or uninteresting, and it’s more likely they’ll fall into trope territory.

You should treat your antagonists like any other character. They should have goals, objectives, flaws, backstories, etc. (check out my character creation stuff here). They may even go through their own character arc, even if that doesn’t necessarily lead them to the ‘good’ side.

Really effective antagonists are human enough for us to see ourselves in them—in another universe, we could even be them.

2. They’re… antagonistic

There’s two types of antagonist. Type A and Type B. Type A antagonist’s have a goal that is opposite the MC’s. Type B’s goal is the same as the MC’s, but their objectives contradict each other.

For example, in Type A, your MC wants to win the contest, your antagonist wants them to lose.

In Type B, your MC wants to win the contest, and your antagonist wants to win the same contest. They can’t both win, so the way they get to their goal goes against each other.

A is where you get your Draco Malfoy’s, other school bullies, or President Snow’s (they don’t necessarily want what the MC does, they just don’t want them to have it.)

B is where you get the other Hunger Games contestants, or any adventure movie where the villain wants the secret treasure that the MCs are also hunting down. They want the same thing.

3. They have well-formed motivations

While we as the writers know that your antagonist was conceptualized to get in the way of the MC, they don’t know that. To them, they exist separate from the MC, and have their own reasons for doing what they do.

In Type A antagonists, whatever the MC wants would be bad for them in some way—so they can’t let them have it. For example, your MC wants to destroy Amazon, Jeff Bezos wants them not to do that. Why not? He wants to continue making money. To him, the MC getting what they want would take away something he has.

Other motivations could be: MC’s success would take away an opportunity they want, lose them power or fame or money or love, it could reveal something harmful about them—harming their reputation. It could even, in some cases, cause them physical harm.

This doesn’t necessarily have to be true, but the antagonist has to believe it’s true. Such as, if MC wins the competition, my wife will leave me for them. Maybe she absolutely wouldn’t, but your antagonist isn’t going to take that chance anyway.

In Type B antagonists, they want the same thing as the MC. In this case, their motivations could be literally anything. They want to win the competition to have enough money to save their family farm, or to prove to their family that they can succeed at something, or to bring them fame so that they won’t die a ‘nobody’.

They have a motivation separate from the MC, but that pesky protagonist keeps getting in their way.

4. They have power over the MC

Antagonists that aren’t able to combat the MC very well aren’t very interesting. Their job is to set the MC back, so they should be able to impact their journey and lives. They need some sort of advantage, privilege, or power over the MC.

President Snow has armies and the force of his system to squash Katniss. She’s able to survive through political tension and her own army of rebels, but he looms an incredibly formidable foe.

Your antagonist may be more wealthy, powerful, influential, intelligent, or skilled. They may have more people on their side. They are superior in some way to the protagonist.

5. And sometimes they win

Leading from the last point, your antagonists need wins. They need to get their way sometimes, which means your protagonist has to lose. You can do a bit of a trade off that allows your protagonist to lose enough to make a formidable foe out of their antagonist, but still allows them some progress using Fortunately, Unfortunately.

It goes like… Fortunately, MC gets accepted into the competition. Unfortunately, the antagonist convinces the rest of the competitors to hate them. Fortunately, they make one friend. Unfortunately, their first entry into the competition gets sabotaged. Fortunately, they make it through the first round anyway, etc. etc.

An antagonist that doesn’t do any antagonizing isn’t very interesting, and is completely pointless in their purpose to heighten stakes and create conflict for your protagonist to overcome. We’ll probably be talking about antagonists more soon!

Anything I missed?

#writing #creative writing #writers #screenwriting #writing inspiration #writing community #filmmaking #books #film #writing advice #antagonists #villains #writing antagonists #5 tips for creating intimidating antagonists

[rxmye]

" 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔 . . . "

𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐍𝐈𝐀𝐂 / 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 — Yoichi Mikami . . introduction | masterlist | commission me . . warnings : nsfw content / sixteen + content / gender neutral reader / yandere oc x reader / Yoichi is aimed at people with a savior complex tbh / yandere content / pathetic yandere / submissive(?) yandere /

a/n: this is just a character sheet of some general info alongside nsfw and sfw headcanons below . .

Appearance: Yoichi has fair skin and soft brown hair, which is slightly wavy and it reaches all the way down to the bottom of his neck; it's well kept as he has this obsession with his hair. He has light hazel coloured eyes and soft pink heart shaped lips. He has the inverted triangle body type, so a slim waist. He's toned but nothing over the top, his physique is mainly thanks to his close friend Lucas forcing him to join when working out. Yoichi has slim Vieny hands, and stands at a tall 6ft in height. Yoichi has many piercings, truly the embodiment of "You're not depressed, you just need to get your skin pierced", with 3 different ear piercings, a tongue piercing, and to top it all off a eyebrow piercing. (He has yet to get a lip piercing, but let's be honest, he's one melt down away from getting one).

Character basic info: Yoichi is Pansexual, and emophilia which is a tendency to fall in love fast, he's a hopeless romantic as heart and is more of a obsessive and delusional type of yandere/stalker. His has many hobbies, which includes but is not limited to, cooking, drawing, writing, photography and etc . . Yoichi has a major sweet-tooth, and is not that picky with what he eats but hates peppers with a passion . .

backstory: Yoichi is currently attending university, he's in med school and plans on becoming a surgeon, currently completing his bachelors. Yoichi comes from a well-off family, he's old money and his family is pretty traditional but rather accepting when it comes to him as he is an only child. His parents have always been reserved with affection except when it came to each other and though he's aware they care and love him, he often times craves to fill the missing gap with his romantic entanglements, hoping for something similar to what he saw his parents having, . . which has led him to being a hopeless romantic. Yoichi has always struggled with sleep, but now has found a remedy that comes in the form of y/n . . and he does not intend on letting them go . . .

NSFW | 16 + CONTENT BELOW THE UNDERCUT . . .

Yoichi's love language is quality time and physical touch, the feeling of skin on skin, your touch, the smell of your hair, the scent of your sweat as your embrace him closely is something he wishes he could stitch into his brain. Yoichi is willing to die in the comfort of your touch, your embrace, to let you swallow him whole is his dream.

Despite that, Yoichi is a switch, he has no personal preference when it comes to who's taking the lead in bed and has a high libido, yet he wants nothing more than to feel as much of your skin as possible, he wants to swallow your breath—to become one. He'll take anything you give him, and expects the same in return.

Despises bondage for that very reason, restrainment will drive him insane—he'll whine, he'll cry. . if he can't feel you, if he can't reach out and let his hands touch your pretty hair, grip your thighs . . Same applies to blindfolding him, he needs to see! He needs to feel, see, touch, smell, taste you, he needs you to overwhelm his senses!! You can't do that to him!!

Cock-warming would be torture, it would be a punishment for him, he'll do his best to behave, but honestly he'll be a crying and pleading mess in no time, you mean you're going to let him stay inside you . . yet not let him move? You feel warm, wet, and amazing, he wants to feel more . . let him have more . .

He's more of a groaner then a grunter, he whines and has a habit of overstimulating himself, which leads him to overstimulating you. . He just needs more, thursting deeper into your walls, touching you, his mouth on your neck, fingers teasing your nipples, sharp teeth sinking its fangs into your flesh, he wont stop unless he himself is on the brink of passing out, fingers gripping ever so tightly on your waist, thighs, fucking into you sloppily and messily, he'll leave both you and himself a crying mess . . as drool drips down onto your chin.

Aftercare is usually something he has to prepare before hand, because with the way he goes, it'll be unlikely that either of you will have energy to move out of bed, most of the time he'll have snacks and drinks prepared for afterwards, and you both will spend the time cuddling.

He despises quickies or voyeurism, he doesn't mind fucking you against the window, or when someone is near, but he dislikes the idea of doing it outside of the bedroom harshly, sex is intimate . . and he wishes to keep it as such.

With that, he also dislikes degrading, other then the few small occasions. However, this man adores receiving and giving praise, he'll compliment everything, voicing how much he adores you—the way you taste, the way you moan his name, your fucked out expression when he goes a little bit faster then before.

On the other hand, Yoichi really really really likes being degraded, he'll never voice it—but go ahead! Call him a pervert while he kneels at your feet, worshipping your body as it should be!!! Call him sick and twisted, please call him names, choke him—Oh . . he also loves it when his partners get aggressive.

Also, bite him, scratch him, dig your nails into him, pull his hair, he loves anything with a sting or mark that's left behind . .

NON-NSFW HEADCANONS

Yoichi is a obsessive, delusional, and stalker type of yandere, he often writes down his fantasies in a book, and isn't afraid to get violent when needed, he'll defend himself by repeating a lie over and over till he believes it—till it erases any guilt or remorse he feels. He's willing to kill, he's willing to do all of that, because if it came down to it, he'll lie to himself, so much so, that even he himself will convince his mind to believe that yes, he did the right thing . .

He's skilled at stalking, yet he rarely risks breaking into your house—out of fear he may leave one thing misplaced and you'll catch on, his insomniac, sleep deprived mind is paranoid and anxiety ridden, and he cannot risk anything of that sort, he may watch you from outside your window, he'll move near you, he'll follow your around the neighborhood to satisfy his whims . . he'll stage coincidental meet-ups at class, clubs, etc, until he can come into your home as a friend lover!!

As he can't sleep without your scent, he often tries to satisfy his whims by buying similar perfume/cologne as you use, it does the job for awhile, and he's at least able to sleep a bit, he still prefers the smell of your old clothes, and the real thing more . . .

Yoichi often writes letters to his darling, that he refuses to send out of fear that they might call the authorities, despite knowing full well they'll do nothing about it, since he's not a 'huge threat' to them. He had done his research before this entire fiasco, and has taken to imitating traits of famed stalkers in movies and documentaries so no one catches him.

Also, he isn't the type to steal underwear or anything of the sort, he's much more above and mature then that. . instead he steals all the clothes you plan on donating, because what greater purpose can they have but being a part of his shrine, collection, horde. Same with any tangible items, why should he dig through the trash? No, he couldn't have dirty hands when he plans on touching his darling in the future (he's a germaphobe) rather, he'll offer to throw out that juice box, that piece of gum you have wrapped up in a tissue, yeah . . and then stuff it in his pocket.

@ rxmye , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

#yandere #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere drabble #yandere blog #yandere male #male yandere #soft yandere #yandere boyfriend #yandere thoughts #yandere writing #yandere community #male yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #obsessive yandere #yandere smut #yandere scenarios #yan oc #yandere oc smut #oc x reader #yandere male x reader #yandere fanfiction #yandere boy #x reader #obsessive love

[popquizhot-shot]

Father mine. Miguel O’Hara x teen!Spider!reader

Hope you like this :D it’s sad asf.

Warnings: mommy issues backstory, feelings of inadequacy, wanting to feel pain. Angst.

Miguel’s body shields over yours as Miles breaks through the force field and causes everyone to fly backwards. Your leg bends in an unnatural way and you resist the urge to cry out.

He holds you to him and does a once over of your form. You nod at him, not wanting to worry him and he looks to Miles.

You can see the exact moment where the rope finally breaks and he chases after the boy.

Your cries fall on deaf ears as you run behind him. Your legs screams with ever step and you’re forced to stop and look helplessly as he calls every spider and alerts them.

Soon enough there’s a hole broken in one of the windows as Miles jumps and Miguel follows. Every other spider jumping after the both of them like blind followers.

You join them, because you would follow Miguel to the death.

You try to focus all the power into your arms and your good leg but it’s fucking hard because you’re climbing the spaceship that Miles has somehow traversed.

In front of you, is every other spider that is a part of the society, and each of them is almost climbing on top of the others like mindless zombies that crave flesh.

Your spider sense tingles and you duck just in time for Miguel to fall past you and hang on to the spaceship with his claws.

You Web him and he looks at you gratefully.

“Gracias, Mija.” He grunts, his eyes glowing red.

You don’t answer. His hair is disheveled and he looks he’s been electrocuted or some shit, his fangs are bared and he snarles as he looks above you, “let me go now, and go back to the fucking tower.”

You scowl, “why should I?”

He tears through the webs, “because I said so, I’m already pissed off at two teenagers, don’t make me even worse.” He seethes and your lips form a thin line under your mask.

Suddenly, you’re eight years old trying to convince your mother to talk to you when she’s giving you the silent treatment and you have to gulp to try to keep your whimper of pain inside. You’re not a burden, you think, as he shakes his head and jumps past you.

something in you screams to go back, to listen to him. For once to listen to him, not just because you’re afraid he won’t love you anymore if you don’t but, call it spider sense pro, it helps predict the future so you listen to it.

You reluctantly jump out of the force field and swing. You can see the hole in the broken window and the jagged edges that form it. They resemble your heart and you clench your jaw and zoom through, tucking your legs inwards and crouching into a roll to minimise impact. The pain is still there when you hit the ground, but you wish it was harder.

You deserve to hurt right now. You deserve the pain in your leg and the pain in your heart because you’re not a good kid.

A groan leaves your lips as your spider sense tells you to go to where the go home machine is.

You run to the area and see spider byte and lyla walking around in a panicked frenzy.

“What the hell is going on?” You say out loud and they turn to look at you.

“Your dad is being a horrible person.” Spider-Byte scowls.

You look at Lyla and she doesn’t meet your eyes, only turning back to look at the monitors.

You squint and look at the go-home machine.

Miles. Invisible Miles.

You know why Miguel is mad, you know the risk that Miles brings, because you’ve seen first hand how a universe is destroyed. Your own was.

But Miles is a kid. He’s like you, wanting to save his dad. Just like you’re trying to help yours.

You can feel his panic and his anger and his hurt.

He turns visible at the last second and you meet his eyes as everyone storms in. Your own dad leading the party as the go-home machine starts to operate.

And then you look at the man who is your father. The man who has fed you and bandaged you and smiled at your jokes. The man who has been there with you through so much.

You watch as he shouts and tries to break the barrier. You see Peter’s horror. You watch as he pries open the field just the slightest. You see him try and kill a kid. A kid like you.

And your eyes fill with tears because this man is a monster.

By some dumb luck, Miles is able to escape and Miguel stands defeated. The go-home machine Scans him and he breaks it like it’s nothing. You flinch.

You watch as he turns and walks amidst everyone like nothing has happened. You watch as he dishes out orders as if he hasn’t just tried to take the life of a child. You watch him threaten Gwen, and you watch as he sends her to her universe. Ignoring her cries because to him, she’s an inconvenience.

Is that what you are? Now that you’re not on his side anymore?

He opens a portal and Jessica and another Peter you don’t give a shit about walk through. His eyes meet yours as his mask materialises over his face. You know he expects you to follow him, even if he tells you to stay. So he doesn’t bother and walks in.

You don’t follow.

Because this man, this cold, unflinching monster of a man is not your father.

Part 2 here

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv #atsv x reader #mini miguel<33

[viviennevermillion]

when they know you like them

⟡ notes: first time writing for record of ragnarok yayy! guys if you haven't seen this show you should watch it, we have tournament arc, pretty men and sad backstories. comments are appreciated.

⟡ contains: character x gn!reader, how they act when they know you like them but you haven't told them, varying lengths because i am inherently biased

⟡ characters: buddha, beelzebub, hades, nikola

⟡ warnings: all of these are fluff except for beel's which is full of soul-crushing angst i am sorry

He's such a tease and you can't even be mad at him because unlike Loki or Hermes he's genuinely sweet about it. He overheard Brunhilde talking about how you like him and he decided to have some fun with it first before he confesses.

You meet him by the tree he likes to relax under before his fight and he's happy to see you. "Hi fam! What a pleasant surprise!", he exclaims and waves at you when he sees you walking towards him from a distance, "to what do I owe the honor?"

When you tell him you just wanted to wish him luck before his battle, he grins and pats your head repeatedly before resorting to poking your cheek. "That's sweet of you, bud", he sits down under the tree again and pats the patch of grass by his side, gesturing for you to join him; an offer which you gladly accept.

"I know you don't like being told what to do", you start and let out a sigh, "but don't you die on me out there..."

He lets out a hearty laugh.

"I'll accept it this once, because it's you", he chuckles and leans closer, whispering in your ear with a tone of voice that sounds like it's laced with honey, "if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're worried about dear old me..."

You stay silent in response to this, which just seems to amuse him more. "You know…best not to lose yourself in worry and fear, it does not do you any good", he warns with a challenging tone, cupping your cheek gently to inspect the emotion that's showing on your face, "getting too attached can often be our demise..."

"I'm good, thank you", you reply dryly, not giving in to his teasing. You reach into your bag to pull out some candy you brought along. "Offer for my favorite god", you state nonchalantly and hand it to him. "So I'm your favorite, huh?", he chuckles, booping your nose, "that's interesting."

He eats some of the candy and remarks that it's tasty before his attention shifts to you again. "I found meditation can help with worries like yours", he explains but can't hide the smile that's tucking at the corner of his lips, as he's fully aware how easily your focus shifts when he's around, "I can show you some techniques if you'd like."

So he spends the next 10 minutes instructing you on meditation and you're trying, but at this point you're suspecting that with the way he keeps whispering instructions into your ear and leans close to you or holds your hand, he's setting you up to fail. "I'm starting this on heightened difficulty", you mumble dryly and he chuckles again. He's clearly having a blast with this.

He's leaning so close to you that you can feel his breath on your lips and he's like "do you feel enlightened yet?"

You open your eyes to glare at him. "You're the bane of my existence."

He forms two peace signs with his hands and sends you an innocent smile. "That's when I'm at my cutest!"

Before he leaves for his fight he gently pulls you into his arms. "Don't worry too much, buddy, I'll be fine", he has his arms wrapped around your shoulders in a comforting embrace. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, relaxing into the warmth of his chest. "I'll see you after the fight, pinky promise", he smiles and gently squeezes you before making his way to the arena.

When you join him again after the battle he's finishing up that bag of candy you gave to him. "I heard you bailed from the infirmary", you let out a sigh and sit down next to him in the grass. "Are you here to drag me back?", he sends you a questioning gaze. You shake your head. "I know better than to try that."

He lets out a satisfied hum and you hug him. "I'm glad you're okay", you whisper and he looks at you with a fond expression, way softer than what you're used to from him. "I told you not to worry too much", he keeps an arm wrapped around you and leans closer to you again until your lips are almost touching, "I think you need more meditation." He grins and plops a candy into his mouth.

You look at him through half-lidded eyes and sigh. "You know what- fuck this shit, next time I'll just bring pocky."

He lets out a laugh and presses a sweet kiss to your cheek. "That's one way to do it."

One word: Panic

He meets you after his round because you're one of the people who tend to his wounds. You're so sweet to him; you have no idea, not the faintest clue about the curse he is afflicted by.

He's darkness incarnate, at least in his mind; only ever leaving his secluded quarters these days to fight; like in the tournament. To fight, never to protect. His hands weren't made for protection; his heart wasn't made to be loved. But who can really help the things they long for in this life?

Meanwhile, you're like a ray of the sun that mistakenly fell into the depths of hell from which he crawled. He had been shunned; detested for what he was, yet you didn't seem to notice. He thought it was stupid. Or perhaps these were his defenses talking.

Or maybe you knew exactly who he was and simply chose to pay it no mind. Also stupid.

He acted cold around you in the infirmary. Brushed you off with quick responses. Yet you always smiled at him with this carefree, kind expression on your face. Just the way his friends had done once upon a time. Images flashed his mind of their dead bodies and the horror of what he had done. He didn't mean to, he knew he was cursed, yet he hated himself; hated that he was host to the monster that lived within him.

He left the infirmary early that day. Best not to spend too much time around people who were nice to him. It might just get them killed, he thought with bitterness clouding his mind.

But you weren't convinced when he had told you that he was fine upon leaving. So to make sure you didn't release him in bad condition, you sent him a letter, asking him how he was faring. To be honest, you didn't expect that he would actually respond, considering how closed off he was when he met you. But Beelzebub was a lonely man. Terribly lonely and suffering in silence without an ounce of company, just waiting for the day someone or something would be able to put an end to his existence. But that was a dream that felt far out of his reach. So he settled for the next best thing: easing the pain.

So for the next few weeks, the two of you changed letters and every time he opened up a little, you felt joyful and loved that you were getting to know him better.

When you ask him out one day, Beel's heart freezes. This was all too familiar... attachment. Something he couldn't allow himself to have. Something that would bring destruction upon the innocent.

He clutched the letter tightly in his hand, crumpling the paper in the process as he paced back and forth through his room, trying to calm his breathing; trying to make the thought of Lilith's dead body leave his mind. He couldn't allow anything to happen to you. He was a monster and you didn't deserve to become the next tragedy in his life. For weeks now since you had started exchanging letters he put extra locks on his doors at night; some of them with numbers only he knew; he'd freeze the keys and hide them throughout his room in the hopes that he would wake up before the monster could escape the confines it was in.

After receiving the letter where you had confessed that you had taken a liking to him and would like to go out with him; he woke up on the following morning with his room in shambles. Some of the furniture was torn apart, papers were scattered across the floor and the door showed signs of abuse and violence; large scratch marks and some broken locks.

He sent you a letter inquiring about your well-being this time. The wait for your response was spent in agony.

When he finally received a letter back; being informed that you weren't anywhere near his room that night, that you were safe and sound; relief washed over him.

But that was the last letter he ever sent. He deemed it too dangerous to keep you around. You deserved to live and to thrive. Nothing that should be cut short because of his selfish desire for companionship.

As the months went by, the letters got less and less. Until finally you stopped sending them. That was the first time he had cried since Lilith's death. The first time he had slumped down on the floor and sobbed helplessly. His room became silent again. He was alone once more with nothing but the shadow of what could have been.

The only one who is actually normal about the whole thing.

Hades is a gentleman and he doesn't have enough humor in his heart to tease you like some of his fellow gods would.

Once he has a hunch that you have feelings for him; he prepares to ask you out.

He's very classy with it. He buys you a bouquet of roses and brings them to you, greeting you with a soft smile that few actually get to see on his face. He appears confident and casual; the only sign of nervousness being that he keeps fidgeting with the collar of his shirt without noticing.

Of course you immediately notice the bouquet. But you don't bring it up until he does. "Hades! Good to see you", you greet him and give him a smile. He smiles back at you. "Y/n, I- was wondering if you'd like to have dinner sometime?", he stumbles over his words one time but overall delivers the question very professionally.

You're a little caught off-guard. After all; Hades is not someone where you notice he has feelings for you unless he decides to let you know. "Oh...", you take a moment to process, "I'd love to!"

Hades is glad to hear that answer. Whatever was he worried about anyway?

He takes you to a nice restaurant on your date, both of you dressed up in fine clothes and Hades can't keep his eyes off you. His expression softens every time he looks at you and he finally realizes how much you make him weak in the knees.

Despite everything, he keeps his confident demeanor, offering to pay for your meal and making conversation with you during the date so the atmosphere never turns awkward.

It's mostly him complaining about his job really.

"And it's not even like they don't know that trying to feed the Cerberus is forbidden; it's very clearly stated in the 'Welcome to Helheim' leaflet and yet every month someone loses an arm to that thing-", he pauses in his rant to look up at you, "I'm sorry if you don't want to hear about my work."

You shake your head. "It's fine, I think it's quite interesting", you reach for his hand and hold it on the table, "hold on- there's a leaflet?"

Hades chuckles and pulls said leaflet out of his pocket, handing it to you. "Rule Nr. 2: 'You cannot actually climb out of Helheim. Seriously, stop trying'", you read aloud and raise your eyebrows, "I feel like there's a story behind that one." Hades gives you a painful expression. "I wish there wasn't."

Hades likes holding your hand on the dinner table and he always makes sure that you have a comfortable and fun evening

Despite his calm and serious demeanor, the man is absolutely whipped for you, so the more chaotic you are, the more likely it is that he'll end up joining you in shenanigans that are unlike anything he'd do if you weren't a part of his life.

Loki once catches him dancing in the rain with you, absolutely drenched from the water and Hades just sends him a death glare. "Not a word." Meanwhile Loki is just trying to keep his wheezing in.

If he feels like you're up for it, Hades asks if he can kiss you after the date. For a man so stoic and serious, his kiss is very gentle.

You never have to worry about Hades knowing how you feel about him because your feelings are in good hands with him.

Is probably having a whole crisis about this.

He doesn't even notice you like him, he just sees you as "y/n, who listens to me talk about science" and that's what he appreciates you for. He has such tunnel vision when it comes to his work that he doesn't even stop to consider how he feels about you until Raiden of all people brings it up.

He's like "Wow you're so lucky that someone like y/n has their eyes on you!" and Nikola stops in his tracks like excuse me what-

"Don't tell me you didn't notice... they're down bad for you?!"

The shared human contestants lobby was a mistake, Nikola thinks

Other people have to spell out all the obvious signs to him that show that you're romantically interested in him for Nikola to "subscribe to the hypothesis"

That's when the panic starts.

"Like, what do I even do, I've never been on a date before!"

Raiden raises an eyebrow: "Seriously? Never?"

Nikola corrects himself as he paces from one side of the room to the other. "Well technically I have been on ONE date before but it was a disaster because I accidentally caused the misconception that I'm trying to build a nuclear bomb, which i wasn't-"

Basically, Nikola has no fucking idea how to approach romance

He ends up sending his pigeon to deliver a letter to you, asking you out on a date, which he describes as "a fun day full of scientific experiments" and he's ecstatic when your answer is yes.

"Don't worry, this'll be fine, I even got them a gift", Nikola says, excited about your date.

The "gift" turned out to be a giant laser he built specifically for you. He was confident in it at first but ever since people kept telling him that usually flowers or chocolate are appropriate first date gifts, he's been nervous. To everyone's surprise, you end up absolutely loving it.

"Oh my god I've always wanted a giant laser!"

"See? That's what I said too", Nikola gives you a fist-bump.

Nevermind you're going to fit together just fine.

Your date mostly consists of him guiding you through various science experiments and rambling about the scientific principles behind them.

"I understood nothing of what it was you just said but I think it's endearing how passionate you are about this", you chuckle.

His last experiment is one where he turns the lights in the room off and uses several lenses and light sources to make beautiful lights in all colors dance across the walls and the ceiling of the room. You're in awe about the beautiful sight.

"You see, this happens because the light reflects off the-" he can't finish his sentence because he's caught off-guard by the kiss you press to his cheek. You then lean your head on his shoulder. "Let's just watch them for a while", you whisper and reach for his hand. He supposes he can continue explaining later and smiles at you softly.

#shuumatsu no valkyrie #record of ragnarok #ror #snv #buddha x reader #beelzebub x reader #hades x reader #nikola tesla x reader #ror buddha #ror beelzebub #ror hades #ror nikola tesla #snv buddha #snv x reader #ror x reader #snv loki #snv hades #snv nikola tesla

[tatsumessy]

how many kids do you have? - {one piece}

luffy

you and luffy only have one kid which happens to be a son who looks up to him. A LOT. i’m talking when your son reached his teen years he was ready to full on fight his father in gear 5 mode and because your husband is kind of slow he accidentally went to hard on him but it ended up being fine. but bless your soul, everytime they spar together you make sure to stay far away because your heart can’t take it.

zoro

one kid as well. but a girl. she aspires to be just like her father, a great swordsman. but she refuses to learn three sword style, it was so bad that zoro and her didn’t talk for a whole month because she refused, he finally gave in because he didn’t like the thought of his little princess being mad at him. she’s like his best friend in child form but one thing he does hate is that she has a little crush on Sanji. it’s a harmless crush that started because he wouldn’t make her, her favorite foods but Sanji would.

sanji

three kids with one on the way. sanji being the lover boy he is you already know how those kids came about. a little backstory, you joined the crew before the timeskip, and before you were separated you two had made love for the first time. you didn’t find out you were pregnant until afterwards. so you two had a child early on then they just wouldn’t stop coming. you’re tempted to punch him in the dick while he’s not looking to stop him for impregnating you but that sounds like too much work and whining.

nami

you two adopt a cat then later on one kid. nami was already eh about marrying you because she knew that’d be money and with you both being girls she was cautious. but then she saw how well and happy you were and wanted to expand on your little family.

robin

no kids. not because she doesn’t like them, we all know how she acts with chopper. but just because she wants to give all her love and attention to you and doesn’t want you to feel like you have to share. plus she likes having you all to herself.

usopp

two kids. he likes to call them his own little crew. you already know usopp and his stretching the truth ways, he tells your kids all the stories and adventures that we went on but he adds a little spice to it. the great captain usopp!

law

two kids. first born is a girl and second born is a boy. he didn’t think he’d have his hands full. i mean come on law they are kids, the literal definition of handful, here’s why. one day when you all docked on an island for some fresh air he was watching the two of them while you were napping and your daughter found a devil fruit and ate it. she knew what it was and was actually excited to see what ability she’d get. she could basically turn her whole body into mist, so when ever she’d want to exit a conversation she’d just disappear. law got a stern talking too by you that night.

kid

your story started off sad. you two weren’t even trying for a kid but then you ended up pregnant and right when you two were getting used to the idea you get kidnapped and due to the stress you end up having a miscarriage. kid for a while blamed himself and refused to even touch you but you had to remind him that sometimes things happen. a few years passed and you got pregnant again. when kid found out he was so excited and literally kept you in a bubble outside of the ship, or he quite literally kept you in your room to keep you safe. he even had killer watch you sometimes.

#monkey d. luffy #luffy x reader #luffy x y/n #zoro x you #zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x y/n #sanji x you #usopp x reader #one piece usopp #straw hat usopp #one piece nami #nami x you #nami x y/n #nico robin #robin x y/n #robin x you #trafalgar law #law x you #law x reader #eustass kid #kid x reader #kid x you #one piece #op #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #op x reader

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

I don’t know if This is the place where people make requests but I was thinking Katsuki and y/n have been friends since childhood but as they grow up Katsuki takes the hero path and y/n chooses the villain path it’s like the 2nd year of UA Katsuki knows y/n is a villain and keeps it a secret she’s also in the class. I don’t know how much I’m aloud to ask but hiiii and if this gets picked thank you

ouuuu this is such an interesting request ! i luv me some angst once in a while ! this is also probably the angstiest fic ive written rn lmfaoo ! i tried to honour your request as best i could and i hope you like it ! (also yall keep enabling my katsuki friends to lovers addiction its not me its yall sooo🤥..) also here, reader’s family is part of a crime syndicate sorta like the chie hassaikai !

fem reader, blood n injuries, kinda angsty but i cant bring myself to fully write angst so take the bittersweetness <33 katsuki claims he hates reader but he doesn’t, reader has a sorta traumatic backstory but if u squint HARD, reader feels guilty, slight miscommunication trope, lemme know if i missed something !

"how long are you gonna keep doing this ?"

you're rolling up your bloody sleeves when you hear the question you'd been expecting fall from your best friends lips.

"what do you mean ?" you're playing dumb, you know it. and unfortunately, katsuki knows it too.

he narrows his eyes at you, you ignore him "don't give me that shit." he all but growls at you "how many more times are you gonna come to me all fucked up like this ?" you'd expected him to be louder, but you blame that on the fact it’s so late. angrier isn't the term you're looking for, you've known him long enough to know he's trying to hold back his anger. for you. you feel your stomach twisting at the thought.

"as long as you'll have me" you jest, smiling at him. you never took anything seriously. from the time you were kids until now, katsuki hates that about you. "you'll keep taking care of me, won't you suki ?"

you're spoiled, you think everything is a fuckin' joke. katsuki hates that about you.

he huffs, grabbing your outstrechted bruised and bloodied arm "i won't if you keep wakin' me up so late. we've got school tomorrow, you dumbass." his actions are softer than his words, like they always are. he cleans at your injuries with the med kit he has stashed away in his room for emergencies, emergencies being you. you snort and katsuki can barely cover the smirk growing on his face at the sound.

"you're such a goody two shoes." you sigh playfully, but your tone is more loving than playful like you'd hoped.

you'd been hiding your lifestyle from kastuki until you no longer could. coming to him one night heavily injured because you thought he was the only one you could come to, a decision you regret to this day, even as you sit here in his bedroom again.

you'd never meant to get him involved in your mess. katsuki, who's future was so promising. katsuki, who since the ripe age of 5 with starry eyes and bandaged cheeks proclaimed he would be the best. katsuki, who had wanted you to be together when that moment came.

but you had to ruin it. and you're sure that even as he sits there with you and cleans up your wounds, a part of him hates you for it. you don't blame him, how could you ?

you ruined everything. you always do—

you feel a finger flick against your forehead and when you focus again katsuki's eyes bore into yours.

"don't go zoning out on me, idiot. don't go falling asleep on me either. 'f i can't sleep, neither can you." you huff out a laugh at his petulant demand. you hum as he bandages your arm up carefully. " i think i can do that." you sigh.

"i wasn't asking." he retorts, looking up at you seriously "don't go knocking out on me."

you're left speechless at his words. because despite what he says, you know what he means. you've known katsuki for too long not to.

it’s stupid that such a simple sentence has you blinking rapidly, sniffling away the tears forming in your lash line. katsuki sighs. even when you tried acting tough, you’ve always been such a crybaby.

neither of you say a word as he finishes bandaging up your wounds. he insists on rewrapping up your hand and your heart squeezes because you know he’s stalling and it would be time for you to go soon.

it’s for the better, you think. despite your heart tying itself in knots, you won’t allow katsuki to get caught up in them.

he finishes and no words are exchanged. he stares at you, pleading for something you’re not quite sure about, or at least that’s what you tell yourself (you’ve known him way too long not to know what he wants). you avoid his gaze, your eyes growing misty again when you hear him sigh in defeat before he gets up from his bed and leaves the room.

while you’re throwing your jacket on and tugging your dirty boots back on (katsuki was a stickler about keeping his room clean) you can’t help but look around his room. it makes you giggle how he hadn’t really changed that much at all.

he’s thrown out most of his action figures but it seems he just couldn’t separate himself from the all might one’s. he’s still got the all might poster, his pride and joy that he never stopped showing off when you were kids. and then you see something on the shelf where he keeps all his manga.

katsuki walks back into the room and his shoulders visibly sag when he sees you ready to go. you don’t see it though, you’re focused on something on his shelf, he raises a brow.

before he can ask you anything though, you turn to him with a sly little grin, the grin he knows you have when you’re about to say some dumb shit. he hates that about you.

you’ve got a small rubber band looking thing pinched around your finger and katsuki feels his stomach drop.

"you still have this ? " you twirl the braided friendship bracelet you’d made for him when you were kids around your thumb and index finger, giggling when you see katsuki’s expression morph from curiosity to embarrassment. faster than you could blink, he’s already stomping over to you. he wobbles around a little on his bed to reach over your shoulder to snatch the bracelet back.

“don’t go snooping through my stuff !” his fingers are inches away from the bracelet when you switch it over to your other hand. a struggle breaks out where you push and shove at each other. you end up underneath him with him trying to open up your hand tightly clutching onto your bracelet.

“s’not snooping—if it’s just sitting out in the open !” you giggle. he finally manages to snatch his bracelet out of your death grip with a huff and a pinch at your thigh. you don’t miss the way he inspects it carefully before deciding it was unharmed and placing it right back where you’d found it. your heart squeezes despite yourself.

“either way, don’t go puttin’ yer dirty paws on my stuff. you’ll get your germs on them.” he snickers childishly. you’re just as if not more childish because you blow a raspberry at him. katsuki squishes your cheeks out with his hand in response.

you realize you feel a little too comfy, then realize you’re laying in katsuki’s bed and suddenly spring up to try and leave but a hand pushes at your chest, stopping you from doing so. “where the hell do you think you’re goin’, huh ?”

“home ?”

“don’t think so.” he utters simply, pushing you down onto his bed harshly “you’re not going anywhere.”

“katsu—“

“shut up. none of that bullshit you spout all the time” he leans down until your noses almost brush against each other, you inhaling sharply and katsuki grips the sheets next to your head “ if you get yourself in trouble again, i’m the one you’re gonna come bother and i’m trynna sleep. you’re staying.”

the asshole knows exactly what to say to make you feel bad, even if he doesn’t mean to. so you swallow the lump in your throat and concede “okay, fine” you nod “but i gotta leave super early, so don’t be surprised to see me gone when you wake up.”

“s’less trouble for me if you are.” he quips. he’s mean, he’s always been mean. yet his eyes tell a different story. there he goes again with those pleading eyes. the ones that make you want to spill your entire heart and more, to give your life and soul to him. you turn your face away from him.

“stop that.” he whispers, nosing at your neck, your heartbeat picks up and his does too.

“stop what ?” you're playing dumb, you know it. and unfortunately, katsuki knows it too.

“stop trying to act all hard. you know i won’t fall for that shit. those other extra’s might, but i won’t.” he’s awfully quiet. it almost gives you whiplash how he’d went from wrestling you to doing..whatever this was. you don’t mind, despite yourself. “known you too fuckin’ long, unfortunately.”

“yeah” you choke out “yeah, unfortunately.” you feel tears burning in your eyes but you refuse to let them fall, that’d be unfair. you’re not allowed to be upset over something you’d caused.

“for fucks sake’s, yn” katsuki goes from gripping his sheets to gripping your wrists, you close your eyes. “ just—fuckin’—“

“i’m sorry.” you whimper, he pauses.

“i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have come tonight, or any other night” you sniffle “i should’ve—you should’ve forgotten about me.”

you’re babbling, you always do when you get in your own head. when you refuse to tell him what’s bothering you, determined to do everything yourself, katsuki hates that about you. though it’s something he can’t really get too angry at you for, cus he does it too.

you’re babbling and you’re crying like you always do because you’re a crybaby despite acting like you’re not, and katsuki hates that about you. that’s why he sighs and flips you both over so you’re laying on top of him. immediately despite your better judgment, despite claiming he should’ve forgotten you, you cling to him like he’ll disappear if you don’t.

you’re clingy. you’ve always clung to him. you’re annoying, spoiled and bratty. you make dumb jokes and you never take anything seriously and you cry easily and katsuki tells himself he hates all of that about you.

because it’s easier to say than admit he’s hopelessly in love with you.

he doesn’t care about waking up late to treat your wounds, he’d stay up all night even if it meant fucking up his sleep schedule just to take care of you. he’d give everything he has just to hear you giggle at your own stupid jokes and he’d offer up every limited edition all might figure he has just to stay here and bicker with you over nothing. he’d always comfort you cus you cry easily and he wants to breathe the same air you do constantly, he’d swallow you whole and keep you safe right next to his heart if he could.

you’re clingy, annoying, spoiled and bratty and all of the above but katsuki would do absolutely anything for you.

so he comforts you as you lay crying into his chest. apologizing about something he has no idea about. he’ll ask and he knows you won’t answer him, but he doesn’t care. as long as you’re here.

you fall asleep soon after and you’re still clutching onto him. he reciprocates by holding onto you just as tightly, hoping it keeps you safe as you dream. it’s a stupid thought, he thinks. but it seems you’ve gone and wiped your germs onto his heart.

“you drive me fuckin’ crazy.” he whispers into the air. you’re still wrapped up snuggly in his embrace and his black sheets. in his room where you’d spent the majority of your childhood together. until you came to him with a snotty nose and big wet eyes and told him you weren’t allowed to come play at his house anymore.

fate must think it’s so fucking funny, because despite you not coming over anymore you’d ended up going to the same school every year afterwards, even now ending up in the same class. and with you sneaking into his room almost every night to have him clean up your injuries.

he knows you’ll be gone in the morning, somehow untangling yourself from his snake like grip. with tired eyes and some treat from that coffee shop you know he likes, your stupid way of apologizing to him. katsuki wants to tell you you don’t have to do that because he’d forgive any crime you commit. he’ll turn a blind eye to whatever you do even though he’s studying to do the exact opposite because it’s you and he loves you. but you’ll get in your own head and start assuming stuff. so he accepts your chocolate covered croissants and splits both with you.

you must’ve hit your head extra hard during your late night excursion to think katsuki would ever forget about you. you’re stupid that’s for sure, and katsuki wants to say he hates that about you. but that’d make him stupid too.

#eeeee i hope you liked this ! #i did but again i didnt rlly know how to finish this LEEELL #but i kinda like the abrupt ending #take the angst and leave me alone #no all jokes this was super fun to write despite my geart caving into itself <4 #i hope you like this op !! #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo fluff #bakugou imagine #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou x you #bakugo x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou drabble #katsuki bakugo fluff #katsuki x y/n #katsuki x you

[joelscruff]

for what it's worth (joel miller x reader) 18+

part 3 of the soft!dom joel collection has arrived! this one tackles some backstory; it's time to see how they met and how exactly their little "arrangement" came to be. i hope you guys like it, your feedback means the world to me. i also have a kofi if you'd like to give me a tip (but of course this is completely optional). previous parts: you know i don't mean it & don't think we could help it summary: your relationship with joel has always been complicated, but it's about to change drastically, for better or for worse. rating: 18+ explicit (mdni) warnings: fem!reader, smut, age gap (reader is mid 20s, joel is mid 50s), mutual masturbation, praise kink, dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics (joel is dominant but not degrading or aggressive), mentions of porn (specifically magazines) word count: 10k (it's a doozy) | ao3 spoilers: this contains vague spoilers for part two of the video game (and most likely for season two of the show). nothing too major but i figured i should warn for it anyway.

To say that your first day in Jackson is alienating would be an understatement.

You feel like everyone is staring at you (they are) and no one will let you out of their sight (they won't). You understand immediately that there's a lack of trust which will need to be formed as soon as possible, otherwise you'll never be able to create a home here.

"They're wary of you," Maria explains in your brand new living room - you still can't believe you just went from having barely any possessions to having your own house - and gives you a weak smile, "It'll pass, they just need to make sure you don't have any ulterior motives."

You get it, but it still hurts. Especially that night when you join your new community for dinner and find yourself sitting alone in the corner of the room, poking at your food and trying not to let your emotions betray you. You're determined not to show weakness, even though you've never felt more isolated. You can feel their eyes on you constantly, like they're waiting for you to pull out a rifle and start picking them off like a shooting gallery.

There's only one person who seems to be consistently minding his own business, a middle aged man who sits in the opposite corner of the room. He's hulking and broad, kind of intimidating, but there's a softness to his jaw and the grey scruff covering it that makes you see something else, something kind. He takes large bites and seems lost in his own thoughts, eyes fixed on the wall to his left but unfocused, like he's looking through it. He's by himself too, mirroring you, but you can tell by the way people move around him that he's been here for a long time. He must just enjoy his solitude.

"That's Joel," Maria tells you, sitting next to you and following your gaze, "He's my husband's brother, came down here a few years ago."

"He doesn't stare at me like everyone else does," you say, still looking over at him, "Does he just not care or...?"

To your surprise, she laughs, and everyone who's giving you dirty looks suddenly seems to soften. You're grateful for Maria then for bothering to talk to you, to try and trust you.

"Don't ask me to explain the things Joel does, I wouldn't be able to tell you," you notice that she has a full plate of food with her and that she's decided to sit next to you for dinner, an attempt to alleviate the mistrust for you in the room. You can't help but smile, thankful.

"He's a closed book," she continues, "Even Tommy finds him hard to read and he's his own brother."

She changes the subject then, wanting to know more about you and what you've been through, a not so subtle way of trying to get some information for the council. You humor her; you have nothing to lose.

Your eyes still stray to the man named Joel every so often as you speak, but you're not sure why. After about ten minutes he gets up to leave, and you watch him place his empty bowl in the dishwashing area and give the woman working there a small smile. She smiles back, says something to him. He laughs, and you can almost hear it over the bustle of the dining area. You watch as he says something else to her in parting, gives her one more smile, and turns and walks out the door. He doesn't look at you, not even once.

-

Over the next few weeks, things get better. Less people are looking at you and more people are actually trying to talk to you, get to know you. You have some nice conversations and answer questions about yourself - mostly appropriate, save for the one teenager who kept asking how you got the different scars along your bicep, the long one on your neck, the one on your cheek, stories you really didn't want to recount. After hounding you for a few minutes, her friend had pulled her away with an apology, "She likes scars," she'd said sheepishly, tugging the girl's arm, "Come on, Ellie, leave her alone."

You meet everybody, shake hands and even hug a few people. You start getting invited to things, asked to suggest films for movie night, help set up some games for the kids, Tommy even asks you one evening to help him herd a few sheep that had gotten loose. They trust you, and it feels good.

You still see that man, Joel, every night in the dining hall. But that's the only place you see him. You're not sure where he goes during the day or after dinner; he must just be a bit of a recluse, which you can't blame him for. The people here are nice but a lot are overbearing and a bit too friendly sometimes, plus it's hard to find time for yourself when everyone has tasks to complete and always likes to help each other out. You begin to wonder if he'll ever notice you, which leads you to wonder why it even matters to you that he does.

-

Your patrols start around the three month mark. Tommy takes you out with a small group beyond the borders of the community and shows you the ropes, points out where most of the patrol spots are with a pair of binoculars and goes over the routine. Your first assignment is simple: manning the watchtower with Maria. You spend most of the patrol getting to know her, hearing about her past and telling her more about yours. You like her a lot, she's easy to talk to and has a strong spirit akin to your own. The conversation gets pretty personal around the seventh hour, and you end up telling her how exactly you got the scar along your cheekbone. She listens deeply, thoughtfully, nodding along as you detail the more difficult things you've had to deal with in the past, the things that have made you stronger.

"You're tough," she says near the end of your shift, nudging your shoulder, "You don't really belong on watchtower, do you?"

You shrug, "I mean, if there's somewhere else I'd be more useful..."

"How'd you like to head out to the ski lodge with Joel next week?"

Your ears prick up at the name and you nod quickly, unsure exactly why, "Yeah, that'd be great!"

"He knows the area well," she adds, then grimaces, "I have to warn you though, he might not talk very much. He keeps to himself, I'm sure you've noticed."

You wonder why she's so quick to put you on patrol with someone who might not even speak to you, but it starts to make sense as you're walking back from the watchtower in the early hours of the morning. Tommy exits the dining hall and walks over to the both of you with a smile, pressing a tender kiss to Maria's cheek.

"How's my girl?" he asks flirtatiously, and she bats him away playfully.

"Was just telling the new recruit that she's gonna go on patrol with Joel next week," she replies, and Tommy stops in his tracks, raising an eyebrow.

"Her? With Joel?" he appraises you and bites his lip, "I don't know, honey, wouldn't she be better off with someone who'll actually talk to her? I thought she was on watchtower with you."

"Tommy, I never see you anymore," she gives him an exasperated look, "The weekends used to be for us and ever since the Kingstons left-"

"I know, I know," he looks at you again, twisting his mouth in thought, "I've been, uh, a lot busier than usual lately. We had this family here for a while, big family, they helped out with the patrols. But they decided to go south a few months back, so-"

"So Tommy's been filling in for every shift he can," Maria finishes for him with a sigh, "And I never see the damn idiot anymore."

You smile, "I'm totally fine with taking over for you, really."

Tommy raises an eyebrow, "Seriously? You sure?" Maria slaps his arm lightly and he gives her a look, but then shrugs, "I mean, okay, if you wanna give it a try. It won't be all the time or anything, maybe just every other weekend, but it would actually be a big help."

"It really would," Maria adds, "You have no idea."

"But... you gotta understand, my big brother, he's.... he's complicated," Tommy's expression is serious now as he looks at you, "He's not very talkative these days, not since..." he shakes his head and you don't push it any further, though you do wonder what's changed.

"So you'll do it?" Maria asks, eyes bright.

"Even if he doesn't talk to you?" Tommy adds with a grimace.

You nod, somehow believing it won't actually be that bad.

-

It is that bad.

The first time you're officially introduced to Joel he doesn't even bother to shake your hand, just nodding vaguely to you as you stand there like an idiot with your palm outstretched. Tommy makes a face at him and then looks back to you with a reassuring smile.

"There's not usually much trouble up at the ski lodge," he says kindly, ignoring Joel's ambivalence, "The trek back and forth is arguably the worst part. The lifts were already damaged beyond repair when we got here so it's a bit of a hike, 'bout an hour to get up there and the same back."

You begin to wonder if maybe this really isn't the best idea, eyeing Joel silently as Tommy explains what you should expect. You've seen this man smile, know he's capable of making some kind of small talk, but it's clear that you're not an ideal candidate as he stands there stiffly and lets Tommy do the talking. Tommy had told you earlier that if the patrol didn't go well he wouldn't make you do it again, and you're already thinking this might be your first and last shift with Joel.

Tommy walks with both of you to about the halfway point, still going over the routine as Joel trudges silently ahead of you. He hasn't said a word, not one word. It's honestly starting to piss you off.

"Well, I gotta head back," Tommy says, giving you another smile of reassurance, "I'll talk to you tomorrow, see how it went, see if we might make this more permanent." He seems doubtful but you can't blame him.

A few moments later it's just you and Joel, hiking in complete silence save for the sounds of nature. The cogs in your head frantically turn, trying to land on something you can say to make things less awkward.

"So, when's the last time you saw infected up here?" you settle on, hoping it'll be enough to start some kind of conversation.

"'Bout a month ago," he replies immediately, voice gruff but quiet, "Weren't too many."

He's got an accent like his brother but it's fainter, less obnoxious, like he's spent more time with non-southern people in the later years of his life. Tommy had said they'd grown up in Texas and lived there 'til he was in his late 20s and Joel his mid 30s, then somewhere along the way they'd separated. You don't know much else about him other than that.

"It's the people you mainly worry about though, right?" you ask, quoting something Tommy had said a few weeks back, "Tommy said you've had more run-ins with raiders than infected."

"Tommy's tellin' you too much," he replies with a grunt, "Don't know what he's even thinking sendin' some kid up here."

You feel anger rise in your chest immediately, "I'm not a kid, asshole."

He stops then, turns around and appraises you with his eyebrows furrowed. It's the first time he's actually gotten a good look at you, his gaze catching on your face for a lasting moment before his eyes fall to your gun. You feel slightly vulnerable, intimidated by his heavy stare.

"How old are you?" he asks, genuinely curious.

"Twenty seven."

His brow furrows even more, "Coulda sworn he said you were seventeen."

"Well, I'm not," you reply awkwardly.

"No, you're not," he acknowledges, "I'm sorry," He seems to mean it, giving you the smallest of apologetic nods and then turning around again to keep walking.

"You thought Tommy sent a seventeen year old up here with you? I thought you had to be eighteen to patrol outside the border."

"You do, I just wouldn't put it past Tommy to send a kid up here with me," he grumbles, "Wouldn't be the first time."

"...Why?"

"None of your business."

"Okay, but now I'm just thinking you're some kind of pervert," you say it in a joking manner but he doesn't laugh. Instead, he stops again and spins around, looking at you with what you can only explain as pure rage. You flinch backward, eyes widening.

"Do I look like a fucking pervert to you?" he asks, voice hard and angry.

"I was joking," you say immediately, shaking your head frantically, "It didn't land."

"No, it fucking didn't," he starts walking again at a faster pace, leaving you standing there completely floored.

Yeah, it's bad.

-

"Ellie's not speaking to him," Tommy explains to you the next morning in the dining hall, hands gripping his coffee mug. You've just told him about your patrol with Joel and the horrible impression you've already managed to make. "I really shouldn't be telling you this but with an outburst like that...I need you to understand why he reacted the way he did."

You look at him, bewildered, "Ellie? That teenager who plays guitar down by the stream?" And the one who'd relentlessly bothered you with questions about your scars, but you keep that part to yourself.

"Yeah, she's...well for all intents and purposes, she's Joel's kid. And she stopped talking to him a while ago, maybe six or seven months back now," he takes a sip of coffee, "Don't ask me why 'cause I have no idea. I've asked both of them and neither'll give me any kind of explanation. All I know is they ain't speakin' and he's heartbroken over it."

"Must've been a bad argument," you say, scrunching your nose in thought, "I mean...seven months? That's a long time to not speak to someone, especially your dad."

"Eh, you haven't met Ellie. She's one of the most stubborn people I've ever met. They both are," he shakes his head, "Anyway, you calling him a perv probably pissed him off 'cause Ellie's real special to him, a surrogate daughter. He wouldn't like someone misunderstanding that, seein' somethin' dirty or wrong there."

"I wasn't-"

He puts a hand up, nodding, "I know you weren't, I get it, no worries. It's partly my fault anyway 'cause he's right, I have tried to send a teen or two up with him, thought it'd do him good to mentor somebody again. But he doesn't want it, I know that now. He doesn't want it if it's not Ellie."

"Well, he doesn't seem to like me anyway, no matter how old I am," you sigh, leaning back in your chair and crossing your arms, "I mean, he didn't talk to me once after that, not for the whole shift. It was bad. I don't know if it's gonna work, Tommy. I'm sorry."

He nods and gives you a small smile, thumbing the handle of his mug, "It's okay, I didn't think it'd work out anyways." He tries to hide the disappointment in his expression but fails miserably, and you leave the dining hall feeling bad about your failure.

-

A few days later you're back in the dining hall finishing up dinner, chatting with a few of the community members who you've warmed up most to. There's not many, but you are starting to find yourself feeling more and more comfortable around people as the days go on, more like yourself. You're caught up in a story about an infected you'd encountered in a gas station when their gazes suddenly divert from you and instead fix above your head. Confused, you slow your words and turn around.

"Oh, hi," you say, voice a bit breathless when you see Joel standing there, hands in his pockets, "Did you need something?"

"I, uh, wanted to talk to you," he says it softly, kindly, completely the opposite of how he'd talked to you before, "When you're finished, of course."

"Oh, yeah, sure," your words are broken and awkward, "Uh, I'll meet you...?"

"I'll be outside the main doors," he says quickly, "Take your time."

"Okay, I'll be out in a few."

He nods to you and then to your friends, then turns on his heel and walks out through the big double doors at the end of the dining area. You watch him go, bewildered.

"I thought he hated you," one of your friends says, voicing exactly what you're currently thinking.

"Yeah," you reply, furrowing your brow, "So did I."

You finish your story much quicker than intended and shove away from the table, waving goodbye to your friends and bringing your empty dish to the cleaning station. You push past the double doors and scan the outside area for Joel, eyeing the picnic tables where a few people are enjoying their meals in the fresh air.

"Hey," you hear behind you, and you turn to see him leaning against the left side of the building, arms crossed, "Over here."

You walk over, trying to plan out exactly what you're going to say so you don't end up making some stupid joke again that'll push him further away from you. It turns out you don't need to, because he speaks first.

"I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry," he says it seriously, a soft and genuine look in his brown eyes, "I treated you horribly the other day, you didn't deserve that."

You raise an eyebrow, "Did Tommy put you up to this?"

He frowns, "No."

"Are you sure? 'Cause if he did...I mean, I get it. It's nice of him to look out for me like that but you really don't have to apologize. You didn't do anything, I'm the one who said the tactless joke."

"Tommy didn't say anything to me," he seems to mean it, kicking the toe of his boot against the building, "And I know you were joking, I knew it then too but I'd just..." he takes a breath, avoiding eye contact, "I was havin' a bad day. Doesn't excuse my behavior by any means but it...you just..." he finally looks at you again, expression pained, "I wasn't expectin' you to be there. Tommy only told me you were takin' over for him about ten minutes before you showed up. And then I thought you were a kid and-"

You put your hand up, silencing him, "Joel, it's okay. You don't have to explain."

"I didn't even shake your damn hand," he says gruffly, sounding genuinely ashamed.

You extend your hand to him immediately, splaying your fingers out into the cold air, "Here, shake it now." He stares at it, unsure, and you wiggle it a bit in response, "Seriously, it's okay. Let's start over, clean slate."

He slowly reaches up to take it, his much bigger hand enveloping yours completely. His grip is strong and firm and you can feel calluses along his fingers, showing you exactly who taught Ellie how to play that guitar.

"Clean slate," he repeats, and it begins.

-

He's annoying, but you kinda love it.

He's grumpy most of the time, hates when you don't obey his orders, isn't afraid to give you shit, and gets irritated with you very easily. But it goes both ways. You're stubborn and set in your ways, you hate being told what to do, you dish it just as much as you take it, and it doesn't take much to get you riled up. And somehow, as much as you'd both probably hate to admit it, you work well together.

After your little conversation with Joel outside the dining hall, you'd flagged down Tommy and told him you were willing to try again with Joel on another patrol. He'd looked at you like you were crazy but hadn't shot the idea down, telling you that if it's what you really wanted, he'd keep the schedule the same.

You've been up on the mountain with Joel three times now, and while there's certainly been challenges and a few arguments, it's starting to become a routine. He doesn't talk about himself - it's a bit of an unspoken rule that you dare not break - but in return you don't tell him much about you either. Your main conversation points are usually tied to your interests, not your pasts, and you find yourself discussing movies with him, as well as music and books. He's surprisingly well-read for someone in an apocalypse, but you suppose he could say the same thing about you.

-

The fourth trip is what sets things in motion.

"Did you catch the movie last night?" you ask nonchalantly as you hike beside him, almost to the ski lodge. It's early morning, around five, and the sun is just beginning to crest the tree line, "I don't think Maria knew about the sex scene."

He groans, reaching up to rub the space between his eyes - you've noticed that he does this a lot, a quirk you've become rather fond of.

"Yes," he replies, wincing, "I heard her givin' Tommy a piece of her mind afterwards."

"The way she was yelling for him to turn off the projector was so fucking funny," you grin at the memory, still fresh in your mind, "And listen, I get it, sex is taboo, yada yada yada, but it's not like there were any little kids there last night, it was just the teens. And it's not like it was a porno or something, it was one little sex scene."

"Oh, I know, but I think Maria's trying to keep 'em as innocent as possible for as long as she can."

"Good luck with that," you snort, "I think we all lost our innocence a long time ago, for better or for worse."

"For worse," he replies instantly, "Definitely for worse."

"You're probably right," you grimace, "Although, you know what? I've actually never seen a porno."

He raises an eyebrow at you, "Seriously? Never?"

You bristle slightly, suddenly a little self conscious, "Well, it's not like there's an adult video store in this town, is there?" You can remember them existing when you were a kid, before everything happened, but it's not like you'd had any use for them at that time.

"No, you're right," he turns away from you, lost in thought for a moment, "They do still exist though. Pornos, I mean. Just in other forms. There's a stack of magazines up at the ski lodge, actually."

Your eyes go wide, "Wait, really?"

"Yup."

"Could I maybe..." you trail off and stop speaking, realizing that you should definitely not be asking what you're thinking.

"Look at 'em?" he finishes for you, not looking behind him as he keeps walking, "And you call me a pervert."

The conversation ends there, and you don't dare try to continue it.

-

The day is spent keeping watch along the ski lodge balcony, binoculars passed back and forth as you trade shifts and chat here and there about irrelevant things. Your main objective in this patrol spot is to keep watch of the main watchtower's blind spots, keeping an aerial view of the border perimeter in case people - mainly raiders - decide to make themselves known. You'd thought early on in your admittance to Jackson that infected were their main concern, but you've come to learn that's not the case at all. When Joel had said they'd come across infected up here he'd been lying to you; they'd actually come across a group of raiders who'd tried - and failed - to murder Joel and Tommy during their watch. Not the most reassuring thing to hear now that you've taken over, but you needed to know.

"It's why we got the trip wires down near the entrance now," Joel had explained to you during your second patrol with him, "We won't get snuck up on again," he'd made a face, "Not unless someone decides to disobey my orders."

You'd given him a weak smile, remembering how you'd decided not to heed his warning about going outside the ski lodge after light's out and ended up almost getting your leg shot off by a booby trap, "My bad." He'd rolled his eyes and grumbled to himself.

Now that it's your fourth watch you've gotten the hang of things and have learned to enjoy the semi-solitude of being on the mountain with Joel. He's got a battery operated radio and a box of cassette tapes that keep you from being bored out of your mind, plus a few containers of books that he and Tommy had carried up over the course of a few patrols. Now that you really think about it, you don't remember seeing any of the aforementioned porn Joel had spoken of in any of those crates.

It's midday when you decide to glance through them again out of curiosity, handing the binoculars over to Joel and slipping past him as he traipses out onto the balcony. You head for the boxes immediately and start to dig through them, not sure exactly what you're even looking for. Someone naked, you guess.

"They're not in there," Joel calls to you after a few minutes and you stiffen, turning to look at him through the glass where he can very clearly see what you're doing. He's got a shit-eating grin on his face and you feel your skin flush red.

"I don't know what you're even talking about," you call back, walking away from the books and plopping yourself in the chair by the unlit fireplace, which has somehow become your chair via another unspoken rule, "I was looking for a tape."

"Okay, well the 'tape' you're looking for is in the back of the supply closet," he sounds like he's fighting back laughter and your skin burns even more, "Underneath a box of cleaning supplies."

"I'm ignoring you," you yell out, "Get back to work."

You swear you hear a muffled laugh through the glass.

-

When he comes in from his shift he barely looks at you, just pushes past you lightly and heads for the supply closet. You follow behind him, heart pounding a bit harder in your chest the closer you get to the stash. He opens the closet door and you watch as he yanks out the cleaning supplies, then digs a bit deeper and reappears with six or seven magazines in his arms.

"Here," he leans them toward you and you hesitantly reach forward to take them from him, "They're mostly from the 90s."

"And you know this because....?" you raise an eyebrow and you swear his cheeks go pink.

"I'm a man," he shrugs, trying to be nonchalant as he passes you again to head back to the living room.

"Perv," you call after him, but he doesn't turn around this time.

"You got ten minutes."

-

You've never seen so much nudity in your life, which is saying something considering you'd seen your fair share of it back in your QZ when life had been a bit easier. But seeing it on paper, in photographs that have somehow lasted through years of this shitty reality, it's something else entirely. You stare with wide eyes at the onslaught of naked bodies, most of which are posed in extremely graphic sexual positions, and feel your heart continue to pound in your chest.

Without much thought you'd opened the first magazine right there where Joel left you standing outside the supply closet, and you now find yourself sitting in said closet with your flashlight aimed at the pages, breathing heavily and trying to comprehend exactly how you feel about what you're looking at. A lot of it feels kind of fake, especially the looks on the faces of the models, but there's enough sexual energy there that makes you start to feel a bit wet in your underwear, a feeling you haven't experienced for quite some time; not since a few a years ago in the QZ when you'd been in your last relationship.

"I gave you ten minutes," you suddenly hear Joel say from the other room, and you quickly scramble to your feet and frantically shut the magazine, "In case you forgot, it's your turn."

"Fuck," you trip out of the closet and dash to the living room, clutching your brand new collection of media to your chest, "Sorry, I got distracted."

He stands by the balcony door and looks you over quickly, eyes scanning from the magazines to your face and back again, "Enjoy yourself?" his expression is unreadable and it makes you self conscious.

"Oh please," you reply, making a face, "Do not start."

-

"So which was your favorite?" he asks you casually once darkness has fallen and you're both safely settled in the lodge for the night.

"Which what?"

He looks at you from over his book and gives you a look, like he's questioning your sanity. You stare for a moment and then slap your hand over your eyes when you realize.

"Oh for fuck's sake," you groan, "I'm never gonna hear the end of this now, am I?"

He laughs and you look over at him again, laying there on the couch with a smug look on his face. You retaliate by grabbing the pillow behind you and tossing it at him, making him drop the book he's reading.

"Hey!" he reaches down to pick it up again, "I showed them to you, I'm allowed to ask."

"False," you say, flipping your hair, "And for your information, I only managed to look at one of them."

He chuckles to himself and returns to his book, "Okay, okay, I'll leave you alone. I was just kiddin'."

"Joel Miller? Kidding?" you make a faux-shocked face, "I fear we've entered the Twilight Zone."

"Don't even pretend you know what that is," he says it seriously but his smile betrays him, "You didn't know about the Twilight Zone 'til I told you about it last week."

"That's just what I wanted you to think."

He rolls his eyes and keeps reading, letting the silence take over again. You watch his eyes scan the page back and forth, taking in the story - whatever it is - and transporting himself to another world, away from the ski lodge. He does this every patrol once it's too dark to see outside, sets the battery powered lantern to its highest setting and reads until he falls asleep. You wish you had his concentration and focus; instead, you curl up in the red armchair and force your eyes shut until your thoughts quiet down enough to let you sleep. Which is difficult tonight especially, seeing as all you can think about are those damn magazines.

After about five more minutes of silence you take a deep breath, then quietly say, "The one with the blonde girl in the bunny ears."

You don't dare look at him, waiting for his response and focusing instead on the empty fireplace beside you. You hear the crinkling of paper as he dogears the page of his book and then the gentle thud as he places it on the floor.

"That's a good one," he says just as quietly.

Another moment of silence passes, and your skin feels like it's on fire as you whisper, "I like the page where she's like...bent over."

"I can't remember the pages, if I'm being honest," he replies, "I haven't looked at them in a while."

You nod to yourself, "Well, there's this page where the guy has her bent over a table. And he's like...pounding into her from behind." You wait for him to say something else but he doesn't so you continue, "It's one of the only pages where she actually looks like she's enjoying herself."

"Hey, uh, I really was just kiddin'," he says awkwardly, "You don't have to tell me, it's okay."

"Oh," you can't help but sound dejected and embarrassed, your fingers trembling a little bit as you push a loose strand of hair behind your ear, "Sorry."

"I mean, if you want to, you can," he corrects, sounding slightly embarrassed himself, "I know you probably....you probably want to talk about it."

You bite down on your lip and sigh exasperatedly, placing your hands over your face, "Kinda," you mumble against your fingers, "It's all I can think about right now."

"Did it make you uncomfortable?" he asks, voice still gentle, "A lot of people are offended by that kinda stuff, you wouldn't be the first person to find it weird."

"It's definitely weird," you take a shaky breath and drop your hands, "But no, I'm not uncomfortable. It was....I mean, it was hot," you bite your lip, "I haven't even thought about sex for a long time so it made me...uh..."

The silence is deafening and apparently neither of you wants to break it as you sit there without speaking, letting your words hang in the dead air. You suddenly feel like you want to crawl out of your skin for saying anything to begin with, for even asking about the magazines in the first place.

"Wet?" he suddenly says, voice breaking a bit, "It made you wet?"

"Very," you reply, relieved that he's not freaked out and trying to change the subject.

"Well, that's normal," he says, voice stiff.

You can't help but laugh, finally peering over at him and seeing that he's just laying there, staring at the ceiling, "I know it's normal, Joel. It's not my first time being turned on, trust me."

"Well, what am I supposed to say?" he grumbles, looking at you in exasperation, "You can't just say that and expect me to give you a casual response. It made you wet, you got turned on, congratulations."

You stare at him, watching as he reaches for his book again, "Wait," you clamor out of the chair and reach beneath it to grab the magazine you'd looked at earlier. You shuffle over to him, thumbing through the pages until you find the right one, "Here," you open to the correct page and show it to him, "This is the one I'm talking about."

His eyes assess the page, his Adam's apple bobbing heavily in his throat as he takes in what you were referring to. He nods slowly, "Okay yeah, I see what you mean. She's about to come, that's why she looks like that."

Your brow furrows, "You can tell that from a picture?"

He shrugs, eyes still on the magazine, "Well, see, he's rubbin' her clit," he points to it and your face goes hot again, "And he's fuckin' her pretty hard. So yeah, I'd say she's either already comin' or about to." his gaze shifts back to you, noticing that you're staring, and he awkwardly pushes the magazine back toward you, "What?"

"I just..." you swallow, shaking your head apologetically, "Sorry, it just sounded really dirty hearing you say that."

He suddenly looks uncomfortable, shifting on the couch and leaning away from you as he crosses his arms, "Well, you asked."

"I know, I don't mean it in a bad way," you step back and realize you're suddenly throbbing in your jeans, feeling that familiar wetness again, "It just... hearing you say it out loud like that, it makes the picture hotter, somehow."

He looks at you, gaze trailing from your eyes to your lips. You suddenly feel like you've said too much, exposed even though you're fully dressed, and you walk back over to the chair and quickly plop back down in it. You give him another look and see his lips parting like he's going to say something else. Instead he takes a breath and drops his eyes from your face, twisting around on the couch to face the opposite way, "It's late, we should sleep."

"Y-yeah," you breathe, crossing your legs, heart stuttering as your clothed core presses wetly against the denim of your jeans. "You're right."

You curl back up in the chair and try to calm your breath, slow your heart, try not to focus too much on the fact that hearing Joel of all people say the phrases he's rubbin' her clit and fuckin' her pretty hard has made you start falling to pieces. Do you even see Joel that way? Has there ever been a moment where you found yourself thinking about him like that? You want to tell yourself the answer is no, that your body is simply experiencing some pent-up sexual frustration and he has nothing to do with it, but you know you'd be lying to yourself.

He's hot. It's not some shocking revelation or something you've realized over time. There's a reason you'd felt so drawn to him that first day in the dining hall, a reason you'd watched out for him every day and hoped he'd notice you. Hell, there's a reason you're still doing patrols with him despite him being a pain in the ass. You're not an idiot, you know yourself well enough by now to know what these things mean.

You're attracted to him. You've been attracted to him this whole damn time.

You shut your eyes tight and curl up into a ball, holding your knees to your chest. He's rubbin' her clit, his voice echoes in your mind, and your cunt begins to ache.

Stop thinking about it, you shake his words away and try to focus on falling asleep. There's no way you're gonna touch yourself right now, not with him in the room, and you're not gonna excuse yourself either like some horny teenager. You can do this, you can get through it, it'll go away soon.

-

It doesn't go away.

About twenty minutes later you're still sitting there with your eyes shut, trying your hardest not to touch yourself. But it's so fucking difficult. His words are playing on a loop in your head, over and over, soft yet rough, kind yet sexy, his southern drawl making it all the more hotter:

She's about to come, that's why she looks like that.

He's rubbin' her clit.

He's fuckin' her pretty hard.

I'd say she's either already comin' or about to.

You squirm in the chair, imagining what he'd sound like whispering that in your ear with his fingers pumping in and out of you as you came undone beneath him. Rubbin' her clit, his voice breathes in your mind, fuckin' her pretty hard, she's about to come.

You're ten seconds from breaking your own rule and heading back to the supply closet to find some release when you hear an unfamiliar sound coming from a few feet away. Your eyes flutter open, thoughts stopping momentarily as you try to figure out what it is. You turn slightly in your chair to see if Joel hears it too, and you feel your breath stop completely.

He's turned off the lantern so you can't see him properly, but you can make out the shadow of him in the moonlight, see the long shape of him directly mirrored against the floorboards and his hand stroking himself up and down, quick and rough. Your lips part in disbelief, realizing the noise you're hearing is the sound of his palm slapping against the base of his cock as he jacks himself off.

You've gotta be fucking kidding me.

Here you've been, desperately trying to push away any and all sense of desire so you wouldn't make a fool out of yourself, wouldn't make him uncomfortable, and here he is doing that exact thing. Angrily, almost out of spite, you sit up in the chair and stuff your hand down your jeans.

Two can play at that game, asshole.

Your finger goes straight to your clit and you begin to rub it furiously, eyes trained on the dark outline of his hand moving up and down. You can only vaguely make out the shape of him but it's enough to make you start dripping, the base of your palm getting slick as you stimulate yourself continuously. He's well endowed, that much is obvious, and you watch his silhouette as he releases his large cock for a moment to bring his hand to his mouth and lick a stripe along his palm. You have to bite down on your lip to suppress the moan that threatens to bubble from your throat at the action, watching through lidded eyes as he brings his wet hand back down and fists himself once more.

Without much thought you slip your middle finger inside yourself, eyes trained on him as you pretend it's his cock pushing past your entrance. It's pretty difficult to imagine though, considering his cock is probably five times as girthy as your one finger, but you make do. You can kind of make out the shape of the tip, wide and shiny, disappearing and reappearing over and over. You slip a second finger inside and bite back a whimper.

The only sounds in the room are the slapping of his skin and the sudden wet squelch of your fingers; you don't even bother to try and make it softer, you're getting off now whether he knows or not, the fullness overwhelming you as you lick your lips and furrow your brow. You haven't masturbated in a long time; you know it won't take you long to get what you need.

"Are you-" he suddenly gasps into the darkness, and your head snaps up to look at him again, heart pounding when you see that his hand has stilled on his cock and he's looking over at you with an expression of pure disbelief.

You should probably be embarrassed, apologetic, but instead you can't help but feel a rush of pride, of spite, as he realizes what you're doing.

"Like you're not," you hiss back, practically spitting as you continue to fuck yourself, "I'm not deaf."

"Thought you were sleepin'," he says back, and you can see his fingers clench around his length, like he's doing everything in his power not to stroke himself.

"And that makes it less weird?"

He groans and lets go of himself completely, sitting up slightly on the couch and shaking his head like he's trying to wake himself up from a dream he isn't having. When he looks at you again his eyes fall to where you're still getting off, not bothering to be sneaky about the way he practically bores a hole in your jeans with his gaze.

"So what are you gonna do about it?" he challenges gruffly, eyes coming back up to meet yours, the hint of a cocky smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth.

Oh, he's proud of himself, isn't he?

You glare at him, "I'm not gonna do anything about it, Joel. I'm gonna keep going," you mean it too, fingers not even slowing down as you pant breathlessly in his direction, "And you can stay here or you can go, doesn't matter to me."

It does matter, actually, it really does. If he was to get up and walk out... it would basically be a rejection, something you're not sure you'll be able to deal with. You don't break eye contact with him, staring him down as you give him your own challenge.

He swallows, gives you one last look, and then flops back down into a horizontal position as he reaches for himself again. He returns to his quick strokes, almost purposely more heavy this time as he mutters, "No talking. Let's just do it and forget it even happened, deal?"

"Deal," you reply immediately, and add a third finger.

It doesn't take long for you to find your release, a particularly hard slap of skin from Joel on the couch pushing you over the edge. You don't try to stifle your moan this time, focusing completely on enjoying your orgasm as your hand stills in your pants and you begin to shake in the chair. Your hips buck pathetically, eyes shutting tight as you whimper and cry out in pleasure.

"Jesus Christ," you hear Joel pant a few seconds afterward, followed by a long groan as he starts to come too, "Fuck."

You manage to catch a glimpse of the way he twists his wrist, aims his cock against his button-down and stains it with his release. You wish you had a better view, that it wasn't so dark, but just hearing him come apart is enough. It's exactly what you hoped it would be.

You lay there in silence for a few moments, both of you panting breathlessly from your orgasms as the weight of what you've just done starts to creep in. You're suddenly slightly afraid of what he'll say, what he'll do. Will he get mad? Will he say he doesn't want to patrol with you anymore? You decide immediately that you don't want him to have the first word.

"What were you thinking about?" you ask, barely a whisper.

It takes a few moments for him to reply, and you start to worry that you've already ruined everything, but then he answers.

"Bunny ears," he says quietly.

"What?"

"I was thinkin' about the bunny ear girl," he's still breathless, "From the magazine. Weren't you?"

You figure you can't dig the hole any deeper.

"I was just watching you, Joel," you breathe, feeling butterflies tingle in your belly at the words, "Didn't have to think about anything else."

He doesn't say anything for a moment, then mumbles something to himself that you don't understand. You can't fully make out his expression but you swear you see him frown in the moonlight, not exactly the response you were aiming for. He suddenly turns on the couch again to face away from you, exhaling loudly, "Go to sleep."

The words strike you hard, lips parting in surprise. You obviously hadn't expected him to completely reciprocate, to jump into your arms and kiss you, but that? "Go to sleep"? What the fuck kind of a response is that? You stare at him, hoping against reason that he'll turn around again and apologize, say something different, but he doesn't.

"Yeah, sure," you mutter, curling back up into a ball in the chair and hoping sleep finds you as soon as possible so you don't have to think anymore, "Asshole."

You hope he hears you.

-

You wake the next morning to the sound of someone rummaging nearby, and you open your eyes blearily to see Joel crouched near the door, packing his bag. You stretch and yawn automatically, momentarily forgetting what had transpired between the two of you last night. His head tilts up to look at you and it all comes flooding back when you see that familiar frown on his face.

"Do you ever smile?" you say, voice rough with sleep.

He rolls his eyes and goes back to his pack, shaking his head, "Like you're so chipper."

"Well, at least I have a good reason to be annoyed," you snap, sitting up in the chair and stretching your legs, "Asshole."

"You love to call me that, don't you?"

"Just calling it like I see it," you mutter, pulling yourself up and heading past him to the door, "I'm taking a piss."

"Watch out for th-"

"The trip wires, I know," you interrupt coldly, "I'm not an idiot."

He doesn't say anything else but you feel his eyes on your back as you walk out onto the balcony and down the steps. You both have to pee in the woods when you're out here - the ski lifts aren't the only things that don't work properly anymore - so you've managed to each figure out your own designated area. You feel relieved once you're out of his eyesight and beneath the thick layer of tree branches that keep your makeshift bathroom secluded.

You really shouldn't be so pissed at him, it's not like he owes you anything. You know you're projecting your own feelings onto him and that it isn't fair, but god, him telling you to go to sleep after you'd essentially confessed your attraction to him makes your blood boil. He'd really had nothing else to say? Couldn't have come up with something a little softer, a little kinder? Let you down easy?

You grumble to yourself on the way back up the steps, questioning whether or not you should keep ignoring him or just get over it. Is it really worth an hours hike of hostility? You already know this is your last shift with him, there's no way you can come back from this in any way that will keep your dignity intact. It's over.

"You say you're not a kid but you sure do act like one," Joel says the second you re-enter the ski lodge, and you stop dead in your tracks. He's got his arms crossed, nose flaring in anger, "I'm sick and tired of the silent treatment, the cold shoulder, all that shit. What happened to people just talkin' to each other?"

You shut the door behind you and shake your head, "I'm not giving you the silent treatment Joel, calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down," his voice is firm but you can hear some emotion there, something deeper. He doesn't like being ignored and you know why, but it doesn't soften your resolve.

"I'm pissed at you, yeah," you admit, shrugging, "But I think I have a pretty valid reason."

"And what is it?"

You stare, scrunching up your face in confusion, "Are you serious? Jesus, Joel, I thought you were smart."

"Oh, fuck off," he grumbles, rolling his eyes again, "I ain't a mind reader."

You shake your head again, inhaling deeply, "I'm not asking you to read my mind, Joel," you exhale and try to calm yourself, feeling the angry tears begin to sting your eyes. God, you hate how emotional you get when you're angry. You hate showing weakness like this.

"Then tell me," he groans, "Is it about last night? 'Cause I thought we made a deal that we're not gonna talk about it."

You laugh at his words, cold and hard, "Right, yeah, sorry. Deal's a deal, right? My bad," you couldn't sound more sarcastic if you tried, stuffing your roll of toilet paper back in your pack and zipping it up, "Come on, let's just head back and forget about it." Your voice cracks on the last few words and you bite down hard on your lip, feeling the tears spill over.

"Are you crying?" his voice falters, and you hear a twinge of kindness in his tone, something you'd desperately wanted to hear last night.

He crosses the room before you even have a chance to reply, striding over to you and placing his hand on your shoulder firmly, making you turn around. His face softens immediately when he sees the tears streaming down your face, the tears you're already trying to wipe away.

"Fuck," he says, brow furrowing in concern, "I'm sorry."

You snort involuntarily, shaking your head, "I'm just stupid."

"You're not stupid," it's almost a whisper, "I'm the stupid one, believe me," he brings his hand up like he's going to touch your face but seems to think better of it, bringing it back to your shoulder again, "I shouldn't have... I don't know what I was thinkin' last night, I'm sorry. You showed me that magazine and-"

You put your hand up to silence him, "I don't care about why, Joel. I don't even care that you did it, it's not like I told you to stop."

His brow furrows deeper, "Then what...?"

You close your eyes, breathing deeply before putting on your best impression of him and mumbling, "Go to sleep," like he had the night before, opening your eyes again to see if he understands.

He stares at you for a few seconds, confused, but you watch as it suddenly dawns on him, realization spreading across his features. He suddenly lets go of your shoulder and takes a few steps back, eyes falling to the floor.

"You can't... you can't think of me that way," he says it gruffly, swallowing and shaking his head.

You stand there without saying anything, waiting until he finally looks back up at you to speak. When he does, you make sure to look directly in his eyes.

"Why not?"

His hand comes up to touch the back of his neck and you swear you see patches of red begin to bloom along his collarbone, like he's embarrassed...or flattered? You take a step forward and he quickly takes another step backward.

"If it's because of the age thing... I really don't care, Joel," you say earnestly, heart beginning to beat heavily in your chest, "I think you're..." You can't believe the words are even coming out of your mouth, the tears on your face already beginning to dry as you try to process this new situation you've found yourself in, "I think you're sexy."

His brow furrows again, not in anger but in confusion. He doesn't take another step backward when you move toward him this time, staying rooted in place as you peer up at him, waiting for him to speak. He remains silent, his eyes trained directly on your face, lips set in a firm line.

"You don't believe me, do you?"

He shakes his head slowly, "I don't."

"Why?"

He doesn't reply, just keeps staring at you like he has absolutely no idea what to say. You suddenly feel the need to reassure him, comfort him. Your hand moves upward, aching to cup his face in your hand, feel that grey scruff beneath your palm.

He pulls back before you get the chance, shaking his head again, "Don't," it's barely a whisper, voice breaking as he says it, "Just...gimme a minute."

"Okay," you nod, dropping your hand, "I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizin'," he breathes, still not breaking eye contact, "Just let me think, please."

You swallow, teeth tugging on your lip as he continues to stand there motionless. He's still looking at you but his thoughts are miles away; you can practically see the wheels turning in his head, calculating exactly what he's supposed to do in a situation like this. Part of you wants him to kiss you, part of you wants to kiss him, part of you wants to wait until he makes a decision. You settle firmly on the third option.

"I lied," he finally breaks the silence, jaw tense and firm, "I wasn't thinkin' about that fuckin' bunny ear model."

Your lips part; you hadn't been expecting him to say that.

"Then...what were you thinking about?" You already know the answer before he replies.

"You," his voice is strained, broken, like he's holding himself back, "I was thinkin' about you and the stupid magazines in the supply closet."

You feel your skin flush, a tingle trailing up the back of your neck as you try not to show him how pleased you are, "W-what?"

"I couldn't stop thinkin' about you in that closet, lookin' at those pictures, getting...." he trails off and swallows, then whispers, "Wet. Gettin' all wet in your panties from that girl getting fucked."

His words send an immediate throb to your core and you can feel your heart in your throat, pounding relentlessly as he continues to speak, continues to say exactly what's been on his mind as you stand in front of him, so much smaller than him, letting his words get lost in the sudden warmth of your body and the buzz of your thoughts.

"I couldn't stop thinkin' about it," he repeats, voice rough, eyes dark, "Your wet panties, your big eyes, your..." he practically chokes then, "Your pussy, all wet and aching."

"Oh my god," you whimper, crossing your legs involuntarily as you feel an immediate surge of wetness in your underwear, "Please, keep talking, please."

"Wanted to see it and touch it," he murmurs, his breath ghosting across your face as he peers down at you with desire in his eyes, "Wanted to fuck it and make you come."

Without hesitation your arms shoot up to wrap around his neck, burying your face in his warm chest and tugging at the collar of his coat, "I want you to," you practically moan, clawing at the material, "Joel, I need you to fuck me right now."

To your absolute dismay he reaches up and removes your arms from him, taking a step back so neither of you are touching. His eyes are so dark, pupils blown wide and that red blush of heat now spread all over his neck and cheekbones.

"I can't," he says, shaking his head, "I'm sorry, I can't."

You're about to protest, whine and beg if you have to, but his eyes fall to your groin. You watch with wide eyes as he goes for his belt, begins to unloop it and remove it.

"Take your pants off," he groans, and you don't need telling twice.

-

You end up masturbating together again, this time in the light of day. You find yourselves laying on the couch where he'd slept last night, the memory of what he'd done there fresh in your mind as you pump two fingers in and out of yourself steadily and watch him stroke his cock to match your pace. He watches you behind hooded eyes, his lips parted as he pants and gets himself off to your pleasure, watches you do the same thing to him.

"That's it," he murmurs, eyes scrunching in arousal as he scans your face, watches you come undone, "Rub your clit, nice and fast."

You whimper, unable to hold on for much longer as you eye his cock and see the way the fat head of it drips for you, slicking his hand and allowing him to stroke faster and faster. You want to say something to help get him off too but your words are completely lost in the sensation; you couldn't speak even if you wanted to.

He knows you're about to come, can see it in your face the way he saw it in the face of the model in the picture. He swallows heavily and fucks himself impossibly faster, harder, silently asking you to match his pace. You do it, thumbing your clit and feeling the tense coil in your belly snap as your jaw drops and you let out a long and ridiculously loud moan. Your eyes shut tight and you throw your head back, feeling your body begin to shake from the stimulation.

"There you go," he grunts, and you hear the slapping of skin stop as he rides out his own release, coming into his fist, "Fuck." Your eyes open at just the right time to see his jaw go slack, eyes practically rolling into the back of his head from the pleasure. It somehow makes you ache for more, even though you can't possibly imagine being any more overstimulated than you already are.

You both lay there, chests heaving, hearts pounding, completely undone. It goes without saying that you've both just managed to each have one of the best orgasms of your lives.

"New patrol rule," you whisper to him, legs still wide and cunt dripping with your release, "We do this. Every time. Please."

"Yes," he replies immediately, still catching his breath, "I can do that."

-

"It can't be any more than this," Joel says to you quietly as you hike down the mountain a little while later, the sunrise cresting the trees again the way it had yesterday when you'd hiked up; it's like nothing has changed, but you both know that everything has.

"Okay," you say just as softly, though part of you aches to reach for his hand, loop your pinky through his and have some degree of touch between you. But you can tell he means business, that there won't be any more discussion on the matter today.

"Just this," he whispers, glancing at you with a meaningful look, eyes soft and tender as he peers at you, knowing what he's done, what he's started.

"Just this," you agree, but you don't really believe it.

You hope, deep down, neither does he.

thank you so much for reading! there will be more in this collection coming very soon. i'd like to do some short fics of certain nights they've had, especially the first time he calls her a good girl. that was originally going to be in this part but it was just getting wayyy too long and i have so many ideas i need to flesh out more lol. i'm also going to continue where they left off in "don't think we could help it", and yes, eventually they will do the deed, i promise. among other things....

if you liked it, please let me know! and again, if you'd like to give me a tip you can do so on my kofi 💖

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #* #fic: soft!dom joel

[velnna]

I'm really curious about logue... Can you tell more about him and his deal? Cause he looks sick as fuck!

Also when designing your drows, how did you decide on the individual shades of purple for them?(Olga's skin tone is my favorite and I've been curious about the specific shade ever since)

Unfortunately Logue is both a WIP and potentially a major plot point I'm not sure I want to elaborate on for now, but keep an eye out maybe? I'm notorious for not being able to keep my mouth shut about anything lore/character related.

Drow skin tone! Good question. First off, Olga was the catalyst for the whole under garden endeavour and she was, indeed, a drow in a DnD campaign. I decided on her skintone based on vibes and the fact that another character in the party had a blue/greyish skintone, so I went for a more purple hue for her.

As we worked on her backstory and eventually the worldbuilding for the comic, "drow" became less drow and more just [gestures vaguely] different clans of underground dark elves with distinct physical attributes and functions, and I created a sort of character sheet for each to pin down what these physical features might be. Skintones in particular started ranging from light cyan ish to dark grey/purple depending on the clan and role of each character.

Just to give you a taste:

Whenever I need a character that originates in the same place or is descendant from someone there I just consult my cheat sheet and take it from there.

For instance, Staeve's dad (half-"drow") is a blend of the last row of skintones and a greener, warmer hue from the other side

Idk man I operate on bullshit biology but there *is* some form of logic to it. Or so I'd like to believe, anyway

#original character #the under garden comic

[hyuckiefluff]

tease | lee haechan

pairing: lee haechan x f!reader genre: enemies-ish to lovers, college au word count: 5.8k+ summary: Playing spin the bottle definitely wasn't what you had envisioned for your first college party. And the last person you expected to see was Lee Haechan. But life has a funny way of throwing surprises at you, and this time it came in the form of the bottle landing on some drunk dude who dared you to kiss Haechan. warnings: oral (m receiving), fngering, cursing, drinking, hc calls reader princess a/n: rushed this one a bit to post it on time for haechan’s bday :D i hope you enjoy! and happy birthday my haechan ilysm baby! - i recommend listening to sweat by zayn while reading

m.list

"New girl… what was your name... oh right.. Y/N” the guy's words stumbled out of his mouth, clearly too many drinks deep into the night. He was trying so hard to formulate a single coherent thought, but his speech was all over the place. And there you sat, legs crossed, waiting for whatever command he was about to throw at you.

"You should, ehm... uh… oh I know… you should kiss the person in front of you," he slurred, barely able to keep his eyes open.

You tensed up when the words left his mouth. You expected having to kiss someone in this game but you weren’t all that excited or open to the idea. Sure, you could've just taken a shot and avoided the whole ordeal, but you had already declined way too many requests and had knocked back enough shots for the night. Plus, your friend had disappeared into the crowd a while ago, leaving you to fend for yourself. You didn't want to push your drinking limit any further.

But honestly, the mere thought of kissing anyone at that moment felt too awkward. You didn't know a single person in this circle, and the boys surrounding you seemed ready to pounce at the opportunity. The uncomfortable feeling in the pit of your stomach grew stronger. And just when you thought things couldn't get any worse, someone sauntered into the circle, nudging the guy who had been in front of you aside, without a single word of protest. It was as if the universe itself conspired to make the situation even more complicated because there he was, in all his glory, Lee Haechan.

Let me give you a short backstory. Haechan was one of your brother's closest friends, and you practically grew up with him. Well, maybe "in his shadow" is a more accurate description. His larger-than-life personality always overshadowed your shy self whenever you were in the same room. And there was also the teasing. Haechan took great pleasure in getting under your skin. While most of your brother's friends ignored you, Haechan found it amusing to embarrass you at every opportunity. He'd mock your fashion choices and poke fun at your taste in music. Basically, anything he could find that was worthy of a good tease, he'd go for it. Sure, you'll admit that you were a bit of an awkward kid back then, spending most of your time holed up in your room, jamming out to some obscure indie band, and wearing some questionable outfits (you can totally blame your mom for that until you turned 13). 

Anyway, let's just say Lee Haechan wasn't exactly the friendliest face in your memory bank.

It’s been two whole years since you last laid eyes on him, and you honestly thought you'd never have to see him again. Your big brother mentioned that Haechan went off to "some college" out of town, so you assumed your paths would never cross. But your brother also conveniently forgot to mention the crucial detail that Haechan had actually managed to get into your top-choice university. Yes, the very same one you had been raving about since the idea of higher education even entered your mind. Thank you for the heads up, big bro.

Now you were sitting here, about to lose your mind because the first time you’re meeting Haechan after all this time, you're being dared to kiss him...in front of all these people too. There was no way you could do this. Your hesitance was impossible to hide, and everyone seemed to notice. But Haechan, being Haechan, couldn't resist making a comment about it. Of course.

“She won’t do it.” He said, taking a casual sip from his drink. 

Though he pretty much spoke your thoughts out loud, you still paused and looked at him raising an eyebrow. You would've shrugged it off, but there was no way you were going to let Haechan continue teasing you like that in college. You were too grown and fed up to allow him to treat you that way.

“And why won’t she?” You asked, crossing your arms.

He chuckled “Because she doesn’t have it in her.” He said the words slowly to taunt you. 

Maybe it was the fact that he was talking as if you weren’t in the room, or that he seemed so sure that you were too much of a coward to kiss him but before you could stop yourself you started crawling up to him. The circle of people around you suddenly more interested in your every move. Now you were kneeling in between Haechan’s sprawled legs, so close to his face that you could smell the mix of alcohol with his cologne. He put down his drink, the look of bore left his eyes and he perked up a little at your sudden closeness. Without giving yourself time to cower away you closed the distance between your lips. You didn’t miss the slight flinch of surprise he gave when your lips touched, he really wasn’t expecting you to go through with it.

Haechan would sooner be caught dead than admit it but he really enjoyed getting a rise out of you. It gave him this weird rush whenever he saw you getting all flustered or even a little pissed off. Sure, you were usually the shy and soft-spoken type, but deep down, there was a side to you that had some fight in it. It wasn't something you showed to just anyone, but he had managed to bring it out of you on more than one occasion.

He never in a million years expected seeing you at this party. It had been a while since he even thought about you. So, when he spotted you in the crowd, he was completely caught off guard. He watched you intently all night, trying to figure out if it was actually you. It hadn't been that long since he last saw you, but there was something distinctly different about you. You were engaged in lively conversations, your laughter floating through the air. It was a stark contrast to the image he had of you in his head.

He only remembers how reserved you were, back then you weren't able to have a full conversation with him or even hold eye contact. So, when he ended up sitting in front of you, teasing you like he always did, he never expected you to do anything more than maybe give him some attitude and walk away. But man, did you flip the script on him.

Before Haechan could even process what was happening, there you were, on your knees in front of him. His attention instinctively went to your tongue darting across your lips, that simple action getting him way too excited. Before he had a chance to react, your lips were already on his. The kiss started off slow, like a cautious test drive. Haechan could tell you weren't exactly planning to go this far, he could sense that hint of hesitance in your every move.

This wasn't the kind of kiss he usually went for. He liked them rough, the kind that leaves you breathless. But, there was something about you taking charge that had him intrigued. Even though it was a simple kiss with no crazy fireworks, it managed to get both your hearts racing.

Your hands went to his chin to keep him in place while your lips fumbled in a slow rhythm that had Haechan going kinda crazy inside. He had to fight hard to keep his cool, resisting the urge to grab you and kiss you back as hard as he wanted to. His hands stayed glued to the floor. He was scared that if he touched you, he wouldn't be able to stop himself, and also because his palms were suddenly a sweaty mess and he doubted you’d like that.

You tilted his head back a bit causing his mouth to slack open. With this new access, your tongue shyly ventured into his mouth, as if following an instinctive cue. Haechan also took a chance and nibbled on your lower lip, causing a soft whimper to escape your lips. The sound made his whole body tense up. Your hands roamed from his chin to the back of his head, testing the waters by gently tugging on his hair. That's when an involuntary grunt slipped out of Haechan's mouth, snapping you both back to reality.

As you pulled away, his eyes slowly fluttered open. Yours immediately darted to his slightly swollen lips, tinged with the color of your lipstick. Acting on some unknown impulse, you brushed your thumb against his lips wiping off the lipstick. He glanced at your finger and then met your gaze again, his eyes filled with an intensity that made your breath hitch. You said nothing and wiped the remnants of lipstick from your finger onto his clean white undershirt, all while maintaining unwavering eye contact. 

You stood up, trying not to make it too obvious that your legs were weaker than before. Seeing the slightly shocked and amused faces of everyone around you would’ve scared younger you into running away but you didn’t feel intimidated at all. 

"I'm gonna grab a new drink," you announced, giving Haechan one final glance before making your way out.

Of course, you didn't actually head to the drinks table like you said you would. Instead, you dashed straight for the bathroom, your heart racing like a herd of wild horses. Closing the door behind you and allowing yourself a moment to process everything that just happened and pretty much freak out.

"Have you lost your damn mind, Y/N?" you scolded your reflection in the mirror, the harsh reality staring right back at you. Disheveled hair, smudged lipstick, and that dazed look in your eyes, mirroring the same one that Haechan had after the kiss. Letting out a heavy sigh, you rested your hands on the edge of the sink, reluctantly admitting to yourself that the kiss wasn't half bad. Who would've thought? Haechan, your tormentor, sure knew how to kiss. His lips felt downright amazing against yours, and the taste…  a mix of alcohol with a subtle sweetness that lingered on your lips, intoxicating your thoughts as you unconsciously replayed the moment over and over in your mind.

But before you could fully immerse yourself, the bathroom door swung open with a force, causing you to yelp in surprise. In your mortification, you had completely forgotten to lock the damn door. Oh, how you wished you had because to your horror, the intruder turned out to be none other than Haechan himself. His surprise at finding you in the bathroom was evident, though you couldn't help but wonder if he had followed you all the way here.

"You could've found a better hiding spot, you know," he jeered, leaning casually against the wall, his eyes meeting yours through the mirror's reflection.

"I wasn't hiding, Haechan. Can't a girl have some privacy in the bathroom?" you fired back.

"Sorry, it's just that you looked a little frustrated when you left, princess," he taunted, his words dripping with a mixture of amusement and something else you couldn't quite put your finger on.

"Quit calling me that" you shot back, irritation lacing your voice.

Haechan merely shrugged, his teasing smile still intact. "You're right. A princess doesn't run away like that after a kiss," he continued to taunt, enjoying the effect his words had on you.

"I didn't run away," you retorted, trying to maintain your composure. "But I don't need to explain myself to you anyway, so get out, Donghyuck," you said, turning around to face him with a glare.

His teasing demeanor faltered for a moment, a flicker of genuine surprise crossing his face at the use of his actual name. "Wow, it's been a while since anyone called me that. I like the way you say it," he admitted, attempting to lighten the mood. However, seeing your unamused expression, he raised his hands in surrender. "Come on, the kiss wasn't even that bad. You don't have to be embarrassed. Though it was so short, I couldn't really judge it properly."

"Pity, because you're never gonna get another chance," you replied, determination seeping into your voice as you turned your back to him.

Haechan studied you silently, his gaze fixed on your figure. There was a brief pause, a moment where the air between you seemed to thicken with anticipation. Slowly, he closed the distance between you, his proximity making you grip the edges of the sink tighter. He position his hands next to yours, his larger frame enveloping yours. Through the reflection in the mirror, his eyes locked onto yours. 

With a hushed voice, he leaned in close to your ear, his warm breath grazing your skin as he whispered, "We'll see about that."

The weight of his words hung in the air as he held your gaze for a moment longer. Then, with one final look, he pulled away, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts.

~~

A few days went by until you saw Haechan again at another party. It was insane how quickly you were getting invited to these things. Your social life went from zero to a hundred really quick. Things were finally looking up, and you were having a blast, making more friends along the way.

But of course, there he was—Haechan, lurking in the shadows like some lingering ghost. It felt like he was always in your peripheral vision, pretending he wasn't staring at you. Seriously, why couldn't he just go away? You made up your mind that finding someone else to hang out with would be the perfect way to shake off his annoying presence. Preferably someone who didn't get a kick out of teasing you mercilessly.

Just when you were mulling over your thoughts, a smooth voice broke through the noise from behind you. "Hey there, what's a beautiful girl like you doing all alone?"

You turned to face him and recognized him was one of the players from the spin the bottle game

 "Actually, I'm looking for my friend. She vanished into thin air, it seems," you replied, trying not to sound too awkward. Small talk was never your strong suit, especially with extremely attractive guys.

He nodded, laughing softly,  "Well, I can help you find her, but only if you dance with me."

You considered it for a moment, thinking it might be exactly the distraction you needed. "Sure, why not? Lead the way," you said, setting your drink aside and taking his hand as he guided you to the center of the room where people were dancing.

"I'm Jeno, by the way," he introduced himself, leaning in closer to your ear so you could hear him over the music.

You shouted back, "Nice to meet you, Jeno. I'm Y/N." He responded with an adorable eye smile, and you couldn't help but smile back.

In those few fleeting minutes with Jeno, you were already smitten. He was far more polite and considerate than the typical guys you had encountered in college so far. At first, there was definitely an air of slight intimidation surrounding him, probably because of his tall muscular frame and silver blonde hair, but as you danced together, he showed his soft and kind nature. His hands rested firmly on your hips, providing just the right amount of contact without encroaching on your personal space. As you felt more comfortable in his arms, you entwined your hands behind his neck, and only then he pulled you closer. The swift movement caused a gentle collision against his solid chest, confirming what you had suspected earlier—Jeno was no stranger to the gym. His white shirt was clinging to him in all the right places and you had to force yourself to look away before he caught you staring.

As the music played and your bodies moved against each other, Jeno leaned close to your ear once again. "You know... during the spin the bottle game, I was annoyed," he confessed.

Confused, you raised an eyebrow. "Why's that?"

"Because I was supposed to get that kiss from you, before that guy came and took my chance," he explained, his expression adorably pouting to emphasize his disappointment. 

Smiling at his confession, you couldn't help but tease him playfully. "Well, what if I told you I would've rather kissed you?"

His eyes lit up with delight, and you realized that he reminded you of a puppy. Jeno took your words as an invitation and slowly closed the gap between your faces, his lips barely grazing yours. But before the moment could fully unfold, the music abruptly stopped, and a crashing sound cut through the crowd. Turning your gaze over Jeno's shoulder, you saw chaos near the table where the sound system had been set up. 

The whole display had been knocked over, and the DJ  was engaged in a heated argument with another person. The other guy had his back to you, but you recognized that posture and when he turned his head to the side you confirmed who it was. Lee Haechan, his face contorted in anger as he flipped off the other guy who just kept yelling at him. His scorn only intensified when his eyes locked with yours, taking in the sight of you entangled with Jeno.

"What's going on over there?" you muttered to yourself, unable to tear your eyes away from the scene.

"Just some drunk jerk making a mess," Jeno replied, glancing back at you. 

You wished you could have resumed where you left off with him, but the interruption had shattered the moment. Not to mention, Haechan's piercing gaze lingered in your mind making you feel somewhat uneasy.

"Uh... I'm kind of thirsty. I should get a drink," you said, trying to find an excuse to escape the overwhelming atmosphere.

"I'll get it for you," Jeno offered, flashing a quick smile before heading off to fetch the drink. As he disappeared into the crowd, you ran your fingers through your hair, feeling the heat rising within you. The intensity of the almost-kiss and Haechan's intense stare made it hard to catch your breath. You needed a moment alone, away from the suffocating crowd.

You made your way to the bathroom upstairs, your go-to escape room. However, as you reached the door, you discovered it was locked, and the lewd sounds coming from inside let you know it wouldn’t be available for a while. Frustrated, you let out a sigh and glanced around, hoping to find another bathroom. Knocking on each door along the hallway, you realized that most of them were locked too, leaving little doubt as to what was happening inside.

Just as you were about to give up, the door at the end of the hallway swung open when you tried it, and you immediately slipped into the room discreetly. Closing the door behind you, you breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for this temporary escape. You stepped into the bathroom and splashed water on your face and neck, trying to cool yourself down. Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you couldn't help but feel frustrated with yourself for allowing Haechan to disrupt your thoughts once again. You hadn't even exchanged a single word with him tonight, yet he managed to occupy your mind so intensely. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks, and with a shake of your head, you resolved to leave the bathroom and rejoin Jeno, who was probably wondering where you had run off to.

But to your surprise and horror, someone stood on the balcony. You hadn't even realized the room had a balcony when you entered. The figure seemed unaware of your presence. So you attempted to make a silent exit, and almost succeeded until you accidentally tripped over a trash can. Wow, you really needed to pay better attention to your surroundings.

"Y/N?" a familiar voice called out, the one that had been haunting your thoughts just moments ago. Frozen in place, you debated whether to make a run for it. Surely he wouldn't stop you, right? He wouldn't chase after you... would he?

"Haechan..." you sighed, your tone conveying your frustration at seeing him. 

"Are you stalking me or something?," he asked, his teasing tone cutting through the tense air. You rolled your eyes at the absurd suggestion.

"Shouldn't I be the one asking that? It seems like you're always popping up wherever I go… first the game, then the bathroom, and now here," you retorted, counting off the instances on your fingers. "What are you even doing here?" You gestured around the room, emphasizing your point.

"I could ask you the same thing. Weren't you just getting cozy with that Kendoll downstairs?" he asked, hands nonchalantly tucked into his pockets as he gradually closed the distance between you. Now, up close, you could see him clearly. He wore a black graphic t-shirt with the words 'they come, they go,' and his jeans were ripped on the thighs. His hair was also somewhat styled. It was clear that he had put some effort into his appearance, unlike his usual messy style.

"You didn't answer my question," you persisted, fighting off the nerves that his proximity was starting to stir.

"Well, this happens to be my birthday party," he revealed, a hint of satisfaction in his voice at seeing the slight shock in your face.

"Oh… uhm… happy birthday," you awkwardly mumbled. His closeness now forced you to tilt your head upward, despite the height advantage your heels provided.

"Anyway, why did you make a scene at your own birthday party?" you asked, trying to kill the awkward silence and stepping away slightly to regain some personal space.

You made your way to the balcony, craving the fresh air as a relief from the intensity of the room.

"I guess you could say I wasn't vibing with the atmosphere, the music, the people... especially the people," he replied, his words hinting at something that you couldn't quite grasp.

"Hm, well, I was actually having a good time for once," you replied, leaning against the balcony rail. He mirrored your posture, but instead of gazing out at the street ahead, he fixed his gaze on you.

"Yeah, I could see that. So, who's your new boy-jock-friend?" he asked, his words dripping with sarcasm and… jealousy? You turned your head to the side, squinting incredulously at the ridiculous nickname he had given Jeno.

"His name is Jeno, and he's actually a really nice guy," you clarified.

"Is that so?," he hummed, his expression pensive. His lack of a proper response prompted you to look at him again, only to find him struggling to suppress a stupid grin.

"What, Haechan?" you demanded, growing tired of his antics.

"Nothing, just...I was wondering if you even like guys like that,"  he asked, shrugging.

"Why does it matter to you?" you shot back, your voice tinged with annoyance.

"It doesn't," he replied nonchalantly, but there was a subtle shift in his demeanor as he closed the distance between you. The intensity in his gaze mirrored the way he had looked at you after your first kiss. "But I know you don't like him." He whispered that into your ear, now standing directly behind you. 

Caught off guard by his statement, you instinctively turned around to face him. Bad idea.

"You're wrong," you managed to reply, though the pitch change in your voice betrayed your nervousness. His amusement grew as he leaned against the balcony rail, his hands positioned on either side of you.

"Then answer this..." he began, his hand gently brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear before cupping your chin, tilting it ever so slightly, "Why are you here with me instead of with him?"

You were at a loss for words. He was right. You should have been downstairs with Jeno, dancing some more, perhaps even kissing him. Yet, there you stood with this fool, your gaze inexplicably drawn to his lips and the way they moved, and how he unconsciously wet them every few seconds.

"Nothing to say?" he teased, his nose grazing against yours, and you couldn't help but close your eyes, knowing deep down that you were about to do something completely crazy. "I think we-"

"Shut up," you blurted out, unable to hold back any longer, and you closed the gap between your lips in a frenzy. The kiss was anything but slow this time; it was a messy collision of longing and pent-up tension that had been brewing for days. All the warning signs you put for yourself to stay away from Lee Haechan felt irrelevant now.

Your hands found their way into Haechan's hair, pulling on the strands as you tried to make him groan just like before. But this time, he surprised you by firmly gripping your thighs and seating you on the balcony rail. The cool metal against your bare skin made you shiver, but the sensation was quickly overridden by the warmth of Haechan's touch. The kiss grew more intense, a mess of lips and tongues, bites, sucks, and a chorus of eager sounds that escaped from both of you. The world around you faded away as you focused solely on how good his hands and lips felt.

"Please," you moaned against his lips, and he wasted no time. In a flash, he lifted you, carrying you effortlessly to the bed. The kiss never faltered as he positioned himself above you, his hands hungrily exploring your body. Your skirt was hiked up, and he suddenly grabbed your ass making you gasp. Clothes were becoming a nuisance, and Haechan noticed your impatience as you fumbled with his shirt. He couldn't help but chuckle at your eagerness, but he helped anyways, discarding the shirt and revealing a canvas of smooth skin that begged to be touched.

You traced the contours of his torso with your fingers, savoring the sight of every mole and line etched across his skin. Your ogling was momentarily interrupted when Haechan tried to remove your tangled shirt, provoking a dramatic sigh from you when he finally pulled it off your head. He laughed at this and your lips met once more in a short, sweet kiss before his attention shifted to removing your skirt. 

Lying before him in nothing but your underwear, you watched as he straightened up, his gaze locked on your exposed form. You felt self-conscious but the way he was looking at you with darkened, adoring eyes, let you know that there was nothing to be shy about.

You flung your bra aside after unhooking it, meeting Haechan's hungry gaze as he took in your now exposed chest. You grabbed his hand inviting him to touch you. His hand glided from your belly to your breasts, exploring your curves slowly. He leaned and latched his mouth on your right breast, playing, nibbling, and sucking. He wanted to hear every moan and whimper coming from your lips. Each sound you made spurred him on, his body instinctively grinding against yours, his growing hardness pressing against you with every movement. You knew he was growing desperate with every sloppy thrust and lick of his tongue.

You hooked your finger through the chain around Haechan's neck and pulled him up so he was face to face with you "I want to try something," you whispered, planting a quick kiss on his lips. Gently pushing him by the shoulder, he willingly allowed himself to fall onto his back, his eyes fixed on you, filled with anticipation.

"What are you doing?" he asked, a playful tone lacing his breathless voice as you slowly crawled down his body, stopping in front of his crotch.

"What do you think?" you teased, unzipping his pants and sliding them down. His black boxers clung tightly to his arousal, already dampened with pre-cum. Biting your lip, you could already imagine his thickness just by the sight of it over his underwear. Looking up at Haechan, you noticed he had his hands behind his head to get a better view of your actions.

Without hesitation, you pulled down his boxers, causing his erection to spring up in an almost comical manner. There was no time to waste, you could tell that he might explode if you delayed any further. Grasping him firmly at the base, you used the slickness of his pre-cum as lub, pumping him a few times. Haechan bit his lips to contain his desperate moans, he didn’t want it to be so obvious that your simple touch on his dick almost made him cum.

But you had other plans. You wanted to hear him. You wanted to make him moan, whimper, and maybe  even cry out in pleasure. Propping yourself up, you leaned in and without warning, kitten-licked his sensitive tip. Haechan's head flew back, as a string of curses left his mouth. Delighted by his fucked up state, you repeated the motion several more times before finally taking him fully into your mouth. Slowly, you went deeper, until he hit the back of your throat. Inevitably, a groan escaped him, his self-restraint crumbling as you began to suck him off properly. He moaned, thrusting his hips into your mouth, his grip on your hair becoming desperate to ensure you wouldn't stop. Seeing him in such a vulnerable and desperate state was a sight you never thought you'd witness - Lee Haechan squirming beneath you, completely undone by your actions.

"Oh, f-...uck... that feels so good," Haechan groaned, his voice strained as you hollowed your cheeks and sucked harder. He was thrusting against your face without even realizing it. You didn't blame him; he was so consumed by pleasure that he couldn't control himself. You reached down and gently played with his balls, wanting to see his reaction. The way his eyes rolled back, and his hips momentarily faltered, told you that another touch like that would send him over the edge. With a quick glance at you bobbing your head up and down his cock, Haechan decided he had reached his limit. He grabbed you by the cheeks, pulling your mouth away from his dick. The lewd sight of your saliva connecting you both in a string made him wish he could capture the moment in a picture to enjoy later.

"I need to fuck you right now," Haechan explained when you looked at him with confusion. With those words, he got off the bed and rummaged through one of the night tables, searching for a condom. As he pulled out the small wrapper, you couldn't help but ask, "How did you know that was there?"

"Because this is my room," he said casually, the revelation catching you off guard. Though, it made sense that this was his dorm, given that it was his birthday party. 

He swiftly opened the condom wrapper and rolled it onto his cock. Without wasting any time, he climbed back onto the bed and slowly removed your panties, tutting at the sight of how wet you were. "Look at you," he said with a smile, allowing his fingers to explore your slick folds. The way your mouth opened and your eyes screwed shut in response showed just how bad you were needing to be touched there. As one of his fingers slowly entered you, he leaned in and kissed you, his tongue drowning out the moans that escaped your lips. Sensing your growing desperation, he added an extra finger, expertly pleasuring you. "H... Haechan," you moaned into his lips, and he hummed in response, continuing to finger you with more urgency. 

"Please... more," you managed to gasp out.

"As you wish, princess," he whispered, removing his fingers from you and licking your essence off them. He positioned himself on top of you, aligning his cock with your entrance. Teasingly, he pressed it against you without fully entering. "Haechan..." you said, your tone suddenly serious, using his dangling chain to pull him closer. "If you don't stop teasing me, I swear I'm going downstairs to find Jeno."

He let out a bitter laugh, but the mention of Jeno noticeably changed his demeanor. Before you could say anything else, he plunged inside you. The immediate clenching of your walls around him caused both of you to moan loudly. Haechan gripped your hips and adjusted your position with surprising care. After a few more seconds, you grabbed his hips and pushed him slightly, indicating that you wanted him to go deeper. Without wasting any more time, he obliged, burying his cock further inside you. "Fuck," he groaned, the sensation of him stretching you feeling too incredible for words.

He began to move, his thrusts gradually gaining speed until he was practically ramming into you. The sight of his pretty face, screwed up with swollen lips from all the kissing and biting, dilated pupils, and droplets of sweat on his forehead, drove you wild. 

Effortlessly, he grabbed your leg and propped it on his shoulder, allowing him to penetrate deeper, hitting a new spot that had your mouth foaming. He continued thrusting hard and fast, relishing in the way your breasts bounced with each powerful stroke. 

Your whimpering only made him want to see you come undone even more. He leaned in and kissed you softly, the tenderness contrasting with his hard thrusts. You melted into the kiss, moans mixing between you both. He even slowed down his thrusts, lost in the kiss for a moment. But then he unexpectedly started ramming into you again, thrusting harder and pushing you closer to the edge.

"Cum all over my cock, princess," he commanded, his voice hoarse with pleasure. With a few more hard thrusts and the feeling of his mouth devouring yours, you felt yourself reaching an orgasm more intense than anything you've ever before.

"Fu-...oh my god," you moaned loudly, your legs trembling uncontrollably.

Haechan followed suit shortly after, his thrusts growing messier as you clenched tightly around him. He came with a loud, uninhibited moan that reverberated through the room, a sound that would undoubtedly linger in your mind for a long time.

The air grew still, and the only audible sounds were the heavy, ragged breaths escaping both of you. Lying on your backs, you found yourselves staring up at the ceiling, your legs still intertwined, too exhausted to make a move or utter a word.

But then, Haechan shattered the silence.

"Best fucking birthday ever."

a/n: btw i reached 127 followers right after posting this so thank you so much lol *cue the flute*

#nct x reader #nct dream imagines #nct 127 x reader #haechan x reader #haechan smut #nct smut #nct haechan #haechan moodboard #haechan hard thoughts #haechan imagines #haechan fic #haechan drabbles #nct fanfic #nct dream scenario #nct 127 fanfic #nct 127 scenarios #lee haechan #haechan au #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #haechan fanfic

[impactedfates]

hello! platonic astral express (mostly welt and dan heng) + jing yuan with a teen reader like collei?

they were used as an experiment from a very young young thankfully the crew/jing yuan found and rescued them, they also took them in but they were still traumatized from their time as an experiment,they are chronically ill which makes them weak and are scared of being touched due to their time as an experiment subject

★ A/N: Colleis backstory makes me so sad :(( I love her sm. Characters here are just Dan Heng, Welt and Jing Yuan

☆ Genre/Trope: Platonic + Hurt/Comfort (kinda?)

★ Format: Mini Scenarios (Separate)

☆ Warnings: Implied torture + human experiments on reader // Scar/injuries mentions

★ Extra: Reader is shorter then characters // Reader is with the Express

Dan Heng is very careful around you, whether or not he sees himself as threatening he doesn't know if YOU'D see him as threatening. He could quickly tell how untrustworthy you were when the Express found you. And based on the scars scattered around your body, some clearly new as it seems they were inflicted on you recently and how you held up a make shift dagger towards them, you seem to have a very good reason not to trust them.

It takes some time but eventually Himeko and Welt do manage to gain your trust and let you on board so they can give you a better life then what you had experienced.

Dan Heng makes sure to always be gentle with you and helps you when you need help, he himself isn't much of a touchy person himself but he still ensures to steer clear from any touches, even the lighter ones.

He allows you in the databanks, especially when you have nightmares. He has them himself, although he isn't completely sure about what the nightmare is about, he'll never pry. Only comfort you.

He's also a bit more hesitant to show his dragon form, he doesn't want to potentially scare you but if there comes a time where he for any reason NEEDS to get into that form, he'll inform you and if you want he'll ask March or the Trailblazer to bring you away.

Overall: Dan Heng is careful around you, making sure that whatever he does doesn't trigger you in anyway - he makes sure he doesn't touch you, even slightly and comforts you if you ever have nightmares. He thinks a lot of his actions through just encase it may affect you negatively.

Welt was the first to attempt to gain your trust, his fatherly instincts kicked in as soon as he saw you, he could tell despite the face you put up to try and scare the others behind that was a scared child.

So he was patient with you, took the time to gain your trust, carefully tended to your injuries when you allowed him and as soon as you were comfortable to be on the express. He became your father, whether or not there was any paperwork done or not, you have eventually seen him as your father.

Due to his age (*cough cough* grandpa *cough cough*) he's very smart, so he takes the time to teach you, if you don't understand he'll go over it again and make sure he does it in a way that you'll understand.

He can tell that most of your childhood seems to be lost. So he attempts to make you smile, experience a good childhood you seemed to have missed.

He can also tell that your chronically ill, you're more weaker then others so he offers to get you a cane, something that can provide aid for you so it's hopefully more bearable for you, and if you ever get to weak for even that? He's more then happy to carry you, he'll always ask first as he does know you're a bit more hesitant on being held or touched in general.

If you ever have nightmares he'll make you some tea and listen to you about what it was, even if you decided to not tell him he'll keep you company.

Overall: Welt is a very patient man, who became your unofficial father, knowing that your childhood was seemingly mostly lost he tries to make up for it and he also teaches you the basics of everything. He offers a cane to hopefully help you with your more weak body.

When Jing Yuan first met you, he knew something was wrong. Whether or not you looked better then how you looked before meeting the Express, he's still a General and can catch a lot of things. He won't pry at all but when you're not around will ask about it. He's worried, a child so young and it seems like you've been hurt more then you've smiled?

He doesn't wish to pry, he knows it's none of his business but the fact he knows something bad happened to you and likely at a young age doesn't please him one bit.

Just like Welt, he's patient with you. He's also very careful around you. One time when he was supervising you he happened to summon Lightning Lord as some enemies tried to ambush you and this seemed to send you into a panic, Jing Yuan quickly made sure the enemies were gone before checking on you, being careful not to touch you but still finding a way to comfort you.

Whether or not he manages to calm you down is up to you, however you'll end up with a blanket wrapped around you in the comforts of his office. He'll give you various of games you can play, books or whatever. If you want to try a new hobby he'll get someone to get anything needed for it.

Overall: I think he's similar to Welt however he does sometimes scare you unintentionally. Whether it be due to having to summon Lighting Lord or even hearing him talk in his more "General" voice, he does feel bad though. He doesn't mean to scare you and if you're around he does try not to do either.

Sorry if this take a while to do wrjggdvg. This was slightly difficult to write as I wasn't too sure what direction to take but hopefully this is okay!

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #hsr x you #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr imagines #platonic hsr #hsr platonic #Dan Heng x Reader #Dan Heng x You #Welt x Reader #Welt x You #Jing Yuan x Reader #Jing Yuan x You #Platonic Dan Heng x Reader #Platonic Welt x Reader #Platonic Jing Yuan x Reader #🎭 masked fools

[hotpinkstars]

ESPRESSO - aventurine x reader

- "now he's thinkin' bout me, everynight, oh, is it that sweet? i guess so." or, how does aventurine do when he's in love?

- GUYS GUYS QUEEN SABRINA DROPPED A SINGLE i've been listening to this for days and i needed to write about it sooooooooooo yeah! anyways i'll get to writing probably a few requests tomorrow and wednesday (expect 4-5 posts between those days to make up for my absence) and yeahhhhhh enjoy!!

- aventurine might be a little ooc, mentions of his trauma (so penacony main quest spoilers), reader confesses at the end. wc 1067

Aventurine doesn’t know what to do when he first figures out that the feeling in his chest whenever he saw you was because he liked you. He probably tried to deny it, until Topaz caught him blushing like crazy after you walked away from the conversation you two had just finished. (Even then, she had to tell him, and then he spent a long time thinking that possibility through. She might have been right). 

You plague his visions. Why does he always want something to do with you? Why does he always want to be in your space, but also never wants to see you again? You’ve noticed his weird behavior, considering you were one of the first people he’s ever genuinely called a friend, but didn’t really think too far into it. 

Though, it didn’t stop you from paying more attention to it, that's for a fact. Sometimes you’d pay more attention to his body movements around you, the way he speaks, his etiquette, etc. You and Topaz communicate through it, and it’s a little bit different from his conversations with her. 

You know he can be cocky. Like, very cocky. You know he’s not too afraid to talk back, to challenge someone to a gamble (spoiler he wins), and to be reckless. Though, you also know about his backstory. So you can kind of understand where he’s coming from. 

He’s been pretty open with you about all of the things he’s endured. You know his real name, he’s described how his family has looked, and he’s described his years he endured slavery and what his home planet was like. You know about the Men in Black and the Katicans. And you know how traumatized he is.

Now, you’ve known him for a long, long time before this. You welcomed him into the IPC when Jade first announced his arrival, and you kind of showed him the ropes. He thought you seemed kind, so he stayed in contact with you.

You’ve watched him change, all of his progress through life, the hard times and the good times, and so much more. And that's what gets him the most, he thinks. 

He never realized how much he trusted you until he realized he liked you. You know every single thing about this man, which was the reason why he was rather… nervous when he’d have to communicate with you face to face. He did a good job at keeping up his front he uses to talk to people, but you sensed a slight form of stress underneath all the layers he put up to look tough. 

He lays awake, thinking about you. You’ve made part of his mind your home, and it’s the part he comes back to over and over again. You replay in his mind like a good song that he can’t get enough of- on, and on, and on, and on. 

He does like to bring you little trinkets he finds pretty when he goes out in public to do some shopping. Considering how wealthy he is, he could probably afford to buy out the whole store, so if you even mention something you like to him, he’s on his way to find it for you. He likes to think of it as he’s buying your kindness, but you think something completely different. You enjoy his sudden gift giving, not just because of your gain, but because he thought about you enough to do such a thing. It always makes you slightly blush before laughing while opening the box presented in front of you. He thinks that's the most precious part about your time spent together; all of the opportunities he gets to listen to your gorgeous laughter and see your flawless smile. Topaz, pinch the man, he’s in his own personal dreampool.

Oh, how bad he wants to confess to you, but he’s really afraid of rejection. He fears losing you entirely, fears that you won’t look at him like you always do if he asked if you two could be a thing. He fears you’d think he was odd for wanting you to himself, and that you’d slowly back away until you refuse to even look at his broken, battered form any longer. The thought makes a shiver crawl up his back. He can’t lose you too. 

All this man asks is to find a way to remove you from his head. You’re absolutely tormenting him! Notice how he’s been lacking on his work lately, always caught in a daze when he’s sitting down at his desk? That’s you he’s daydreaming about. He’s no good with his emotions. He knows how to hide sadness, fear, and anger, but he’s never been in this boat before. Love is a whole new concept to him. 

“Aventurine, you’ve been out of it lately. Tell me, is something the matter?” You barge through the blonde's office, not even bothering to knock. You know you don’t have to, he’s never doing anything so significant in that tiny space that it needs to be kept private.

“What are you saying? Nothings up with me,” he drops his pen in the small plaster pen cup you bought for him. “Work has been tiring lately. Nothing to stress over.” 

You plop into the chair in front of his desk, resting your arms on the top and putting your head in between your palms.

“I can tell when you lie. Tell the truth.”

He looks away. What was he supposed to say? That he couldn’t get you out of his brain, and that you’re the only thing he can focus on? That’ll scare you off for sure!

“Aventurine?? You there?” you wave a hand in front of his face, snapping him out of his daze once more. “You know, you don’t have to lie. I already know what you’re thinking.”

His eyes slightly widen, just enough for you to notice. You giggle very lightly before continuing on with your sentence. “You have a little crush, don’t you? Don’t worry, I like you back. Seriously, I do.”

He doesn’t know how to reply to that. He doesn’t know if he wants to faint or make out with you right now. “So that makes us…?”

“I don’t know. We could remain friends, we could be boyfriend girlfriend, whatever you want. I don’t care.”

Well, he believes he already knows the answer he’s choosing.

#aventurine #kakavasha #aventurine x reader #kakavasha x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr #hsr x reader #star rail #star rail x reader

[bunnysbrainrot]

Unspoken Rules

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟹 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 '𝚃𝚘𝚘 𝚂𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝' 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚢𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝙷𝚘𝚣𝚒𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚐.

Relationship: Joel Miller x f!Reader, Jackson!AU

Content: Angst, protective Joel, kissing, sexual themes, make out session, size kink (kind of?)

Summary: The day after the town dance, Joel doesn't seem so sentimental for your time together. The emotional rollercoaster leaves you confused. Something is off about him now, and it's taking everything in you to not leave yourself to blame. Finally, Joel tries setting a boundary, but will he hold to it?

[ A/N: For this series, I invite the reader to make up their own backstory for how they end up in Jackson. I'll keep descriptions in the chapters vague, as I didn't want to assign a backstory when it's something people can have such fun with! ]

Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep

The gentle chirping of your watch pulls you from sleep, but not without some protest. You groan softly at a headache taking form and begin to regret last night's decisions. Prying an eye open, a green 6:31 AM shines back at you, though the sun hardly shows it through your curtains. A dim lavender sky peeks through instead.

What a nice start to the day, you think to yourself, sighing loudly as you shift to sit up; the rush of movement swells your pesky headache, making you squeeze your eyes shut.

"Shit," you grumble, rubbing your eyes, "fuckin' mead, man... never again."

And especially never before patrol day.

The thought of riding your horse through rough Wyoming terrain doesn't excite you. Instead, you get the gift of an unsettled stomach, but pull yourself out of bed nonetheless.

••••

"Good morning!"

Your neighbor's cheerful greeting rings in your head, but you know she means well. She'd been at the dance last night, too, but you didn't get a chance to talk, from what you remember, at least. Giving her a small wave, you force a smile you hope is genuine enough to sell the 'I'm not hungover' act.

The food stall is desolate, to your relief, save for the man running it. You seem him every time you stop by, though neither of you have exchanged names, but he has memorized your order already. His eyes shine genuinely when he hands you your food.

"It's good to see you again," the man says, "welcome to Jackson."

You smile appreciatively and take the sandwich, giving him a brief thanks before heading off. He provides breakfast for the patrol groups, but never wants anything in return. Maybe you could repay him, somehow, you think. Mulling it over, you tear into the sandwich while you make your way to the stables. The thick, earthy smell of hay wafts past, and the sputtering of horses sounds ahead.

Rounding the corner reveals today's patrol group - it's evidently much smaller than last time.

Joel doesn't turn when your footsteps approach. You spot the beautiful mare you'd ridden last patrol, Belle, occupied with a bucket of hay. She huffs loudly when you meet her, angling her head to look at you, before resuming her breakfast. Joel silently adjusts a hefty saddle onto his horse nearby. Clinking of metal clasps fills the silence before Joel breaks it.

"How's the hangover?"

There's a terseness in his tone, as if forcing a conversation he doesn't want to have. He doesn't turn to you when he asks the question.

You pause for a beat, "Kicking my ass a little."

Joel nods once, "Been there."

This Joel isn't the same man you danced with last night, this version doesn't remember, or simply doesn't care. Nothing from last night was special enough to hold onto today. Shame starts to sink in your uneasy stomach. So he really did mean it, when he called himself a fool for dancing with you.

"Where are we meeting up with the rest of the group?"

A casual tone masks the pain blooming in your chest, and the tears that prick your eyes. You wouldn't dare let them fall in front of Joel. He shouldn't know how much last night meant to you, even if he wouldn't bat an eye at your tears. It seems like last night's biggest mistake was thinking that he, somehow, was true to his actions. When his lips were brushing against your neck, hovering over your ear, before his tone had gone seductively darker.

"Just us today. Smaller groups help cover more ground."

It feels like an invisible string is pulled between you when he speaks, growing more taught with each bated breath and expressionless comment. You come to notice that Belle is already donning her saddle and gear, a task you hadn't done yourself.

Glancing at Joel, you hesitate, "Thank you for getting Belle ready."

Finally, he turns from his horse's saddle and shifts attention to you. A steely look in his eyes reprimands you without words. It didn't seem like a favor. He'd done your work for you.

"Saddling up is the boring part. Not as tricky as it looks, though. I'll ask Maria to show you how," he offers dismissively.

It’s a nice gesture, but the Maria part begins to register. He won’t show you, or doesn't want to spend time alone with you after what transpired last night. Confusion lingers in the back of your mind - Joel invited you to dance, and now it's as if you've never held a conversation before.

You nod, "Sounds good to me."

Even though it was not, in fact, good at all. Maybe last night really was some drunken mistake, but it wouldn't make sense of Joel's demeanor now.

Why did he look like he had something else to say?

••••

"Pretty day today," Joel states.

Sunlight streaks between distant mountain peaks, painting the morning fog with a breathtaking display of orange and yellow. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see how it casts a golden halo around Joel's salt and pepper hair, highlighting its warmer browns. He turns to his saddle bag, giving you a glimpse of his face; the sunlight works wonders. He's warmer and brighter... there's more life to him.

Joel gestures to one of the peaks ahead, "See that mountain over there? The shorter one to the right - we stop at the base of it. On the way out there, we're on lookout, gettin' rid of any stragglers. At the turn-around point we'll rest, and the trip back is supply pickup, in case we find anything."

You clear your throat, carrying on, "Got it... Must be a long route, hm?"

"At an average pace, 'bout two hours or so. If you're bookin' it, you could do it in less than one."

The talking is helpful when it's useful information, but anything else reminds you of last night, of that version of Joel. When he was in such stark contrast to this gruff personality, and if you were being honest, it had intrigued you. Pulled you in deeper.

In fact, from the moment you saw him, he caught your eye. On that chilly morning, where you stood timid and anxious amidst the crowd, something clicked in place when he'd briefly turned to you.

A certain roughness in his look told you that something, many things, has roughed him around the edges over the years. You couldn't tell his age, but you could assume that he witnessed the fall of everything. Back then, the world crumbled with the rise of the infection, its haunting mortality rate, and there was no hope of it being stopped after it had begun. You wondered what Joel's life had been before he ended up in Jackson - how his 'regular life' was, back when the world made more sense.

His accent is distinctly and seductively Southern, one you could listen to for hours. Clearly he isn't from around here - any kind of travel across so much terrain isn't an easy task, and it would take months at a steady pace.

So how the hell did he wind up in Jackson?

Joel reaches for a canteen of water, unscrewing the top and tossing his head back, taking in a few deep gulps. His jaw twitches as he drinks greedily, and follows it with a low, satisfied sigh when he's finished. The sound casts you into a void of unholy thoughts. Something tightens in your core, a feeling that, you now realize, you haven't had in months. Years, maybe.

Effortlessly, Joel shines light on an emotion you hadn't addressed to even yourself: a primal need for something.

••••

With the exception of picking off the straggling infected, the patrol is continuing quite smoothly. The sun is slowly inching its way across the sky, keeping you comfortably warm in a gentle breeze that relieves your dull headache. Now, Joel leads you down a path veering toward an open stretch of pasture at the base of the mountain. Peering ahead, you see the trail reach its end at the start of the field, and beyond spans into a sea of rolling hills that takes your breath away.

"How you doin' back there?" Joel asks.

"Still good," you reassure him.

He nods his head toward a fence far off in the pasture, "We go to the edge of the perimeter, then we loop around. We'll take a breather first, though."

You follow in his stead until he reaches the old wooden fence, dismounting his horse, and carefully tying its reigns to a nearby fence post. Dismounting Belle gives your hips and thighs a wave of relief to get some blood flowing again. You head to the fence on unsteady legs, leaning against the weathered wood as another gust of wind rushes by. The cool wind across your skin makes you turn to face its source, tossing your head back to invite its presence at your neck. Your eyes flutter shut, and the world melts away for a while.

He wishes he could burn this image in his mind. You throwing your head back as the wind blows, entangling itself through your hair, your clothes. That soft smile tugging at your lips has him completely distracted before you let out a happy sigh. A soft, breathy sound that makes his imagination wander, against his better judgement.

After all, last night was a mistake.

The moment Cara had called for your attention, inviting you to join his group, Joel knew the night would end differently than he expected. You wore a shirt that accentuated every area his eyes shouldn't have wandered to, but they did. Across the lot, he'd watched you dance for hours, spinning and twirling and laughing and really, truly, living. He could see a light in you, a fire that couldn't be put out.

But if you're a fire, Joel is gasoline.

"Listen," he starts. He already knows where this is heading, that he's ruined this moment, and that there will be nothing in his power to make it any better.

But he can't let you fall into a delusion. This idea that you want him, yet you have no idea of what's underneath. He can't have you focused on him when there's a whole community to serve. He's doing a service by telling you now, he assures himself.

Nipping it in the bud.

You turn to face him quickly, knowingly. He can tell by your fidgeting hands that you might know what's coming. And he can see it in your wide-eyed expression, still somewhat hopeful. He braced himself to see that face fall.

"What happened last night... ain't my best moment. I didn't hold myself back when I shoulda have, and I..." he straightens, "it can't happen again."

The words come out meaninglessly. Joel speaks, but can't hear himself, his words come from some far-off mental script he'd prepared when he'd gotten home last night. He can see it hit you - the realization, the way your body goes completely still. Your bottom lip trembles slightly, yet you hold a solid smile despite the hurt he sees in your eyes. Your hands have frozen in place, knuckles growing white from gripping them together so tightly.

"I-I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have gotten so carried away," you explain.

Your apology is a blow to his gut. Have you been blaming yourself this whole time? As if you could even be at fault. Joel asked you to dance. You were about to go home, and he asked you to stay out of his own selfishness.

He needed that light, that fire. A brightness that only you've possessed, and it had him hooked from the first time you'd spoken, at last patrol. You had strayed away from your position in the party and had wound up next to him. It hadn't registered who had joined him, and before he had the chance to issue a harsh 'stay back', there you were, in complete awe.

Joel remembers it clearly: the way your eyes shone with delight, an infectious smile that for a moment, lifted his spirits. Every patrol was the same. Same people, same routes, over and over and over again with exhausting mundanity. Until you came along.

There was a light about you he could not touch.

In every way you are his opposite. On one hand, Joel is harsh, serious, and doesn't care much about his impact on others, let alone their feelings. You, on the other hand, represent everything Joel could've had for himself - kind, flexible, and you naturally cared for others.

Joel can't seem to remember when he lost that side of himself. He doesn't understand your capacity for kindness in a world this dark.

"You shouldn't be apologizing for anything," he says.

You pause and look toward the ground, wringing your hands again, "I should've just gone home."

If you had, you wouldn't be on the verge of tears right now.

A surge of regret fills his chest. Someone as kind as you doesn't deserve the pain of rejection; you should have someone who cherishes you, who can appreciate your softness without tainting it.

"Why'd you stay?"

There was no use for excuses now.

It's harder to meet his eyes this time, but you want to see his reaction to your answer.

"Because you asked me to dance."

Confusion knits Joel's eyebrows together when he asks, "And that was so special?"

"Yes. Was it not that way for you?"

He opens his mouth to answer, yet he hesitates. The long pause doesn't much to help your confusion, you truly want to know, to hear it from him first. If it wasn't important, it'd be easier to forget it happened in the first place.

It would certainly be easier than an unrequited love. Anything is easier.

"That's not what I said."

"It's implied," you state. Joel averts his gaze to the fence, idly picking at a loose piece of wood. "It's alright if it wasn't, I just... I need to know."

Another beat passes before he gives his answer, at long last. Joel matches your pose from earlier and leans with his back against the fence.

"It was. Special, that is," he says gently. That softness in his voice was greatly missed, and it's a breath of fresh air to hear it once more. "It's just... you're still new here. I don't want you getting distracted-"

"Are you calling yourself a distraction?"

Joel's eyes dart to you, "Am I not?"

You press your lips into a thin line, making his question ultimately rhetorical. He nods once, then turns his head to you. The intensity of his stare demands it to be met, so you meet his eyes and find a playfulness there, a hint of the Joel from last night.

"Am I one?"

"Telling you would just give you ideas," he teases.

You smirk, "So I am."

"The worst kind."

Shifting your weight on your feet reminds you of the soreness in your legs, so you lift your arms, and push yourself onto the top of the fence, dangling your legs over the side. The silence between you now isn't as uncomfortable as earlier. No, this is the silence of anticipation, wondering what or who will give a resolution.

"What about me is so distracting?" You ask.

In place of words, Joel makes his way to you, positioning himself in front of your swinging legs, which now shook a little more than you'd like to admit. He closes the gap with hands on either side of you, gripping the wood beneath his rough fingers.

There's no way to place his expression when he looks at you again.

He replies, voice low and strained, "Everything."

You can't miss it when his eyes wander to your lips, hovering there a moment longer than he needed to. Taking the opportunity you look at his as well - you knew they were soft, but hadn't felt much of them. Need and hunger are all you can feel as you stare.

When his lips meet yours, there's something that tells you that maybe this situation was inevitable. One look at him, and you knew how you felt, and exactly how willing you'd be to take your time with him.

But today, Joel doesn't need time. He knows what he wants.

He groans into your mouth when you move your lips against his - the sound of a starved animal finally getting their fill. It draws a moan from you, matching him in a sweet harmony. There's a gap between you still, that simply isn't enough.

You reach forward in search of the waistband of his jeans, hook your fingers through his belt loops, and tug Joel forward. His mouth crashes into yours once again, skirting his tongue across your bottom lip, begging for entry. One at a time, you wrap your legs around Joel's waist and secure yourself tightly against him, gripping at his shoulders with a ferocity you didn't recognize.

It's not as slow as you would've liked him to go, but it's the pace you need. For how long it felt to wait, for how impatient you'd been.

And he knows how to deliver it.

His hands roam carefully around your waist, squeezing and fondling with an avarice that shows he's been waiting just as impatiently. Every caress sets you alight, erupting goosebumps along your arms and neck, which Joel is slowly shifting his attention to.

"Joel," you pant, but it's all you can muster. There's more to the sentence, but his lips stop you. They play at the soft skin below your jaw, suckling gently before his tongue slides along your supple flesh, bringing himself to your ear.

He catches your earlobe between his teeth and bites playfully. Another moan falls past your lips, another breathy utterance of his name. Joel plants a kiss below your ear. You card your fingers through his hair, tugging at the soft strands.

"Careful, pretty girl," says Joel, reaching upward to support your head as it's thrown back in pleasure. He weaves his fingers into your hair for a comfortable grip, and pulls your head back further.

The constriction chokes you, but you smile anyway at the dull pain from where he holds you. With his strength, he has you exactly where he wants you, and can keep you there. The high-pitched moan you sing next has Joel losing his composure, his actions growing sloppier as you continue.

But, to your surprise, he releases you first.

Joel pulls back with a final kiss pressed to your lips again, a deep and savoring one. The back of your head stings from the grip he held on it, though it gives you a rush of adrenaline you won't trade for anything.

The sigh he lets out is one you can recognize, because you're breathing the same one.

This complicates things.

Hi guys! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, it took a long time to write, and I think it's because it's not smut, and it was very frustrating, so next chapter will have a LOT more (i'm already plotting)

#fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou2 #tlou fanfiction #joel tlou #joel miller #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #smut #smut writing #bunny writes

[writers-potion]

when writing enemies to lovers, how to I avoid the trope of “hes mean to me but it’s okay because he likes me” and make the mmc redeemable after being mean, because so far all I have is have her be just as bad 😭 (I don’t know if I worded that right)

Redeeming The Bad Boy Character

Drop Subtle Hints of Redeemability

Okay. Rule Number 1 for romance heroes: They need to be LOVABLE. Full stop. 

Before you start coming up with possible justifications, place the actions of your bad boy on the emotional balancing scale of your girl. Do his real feelings shine through the meanness on the surface?

What readers usually DON’T want to see redeemed is:

Outright lying/manipulating the girl 

Being obsessive and controlling 

Physical/emotional bullying (i.e. stuff that real bullies would do)

“Crossing the line”: This will depend on character - like insulting a disabled sister the girl character feels super protective towards (like NO PLEASE NO)

Even if the “enemy” phase of your romance is meant to be intense, your bad boy needs to display “goodness of heart”. This is easy if you’re switching POVs or 3rd person omniscient where you can show him secretly beating himself in regret, trying to make up with her behind her back although she doesn’t know, etc. 

Even if you’re doing the girl’s 1st person POV, drop subtle hints that the guy character isn’t as mean as the girl is made to believe:

Him having the reputation with friends/teachers/neighbors for being kind 

Him being awarded in school for good deeds

The girl’s friend telling her stories about how the guy actually seems nice. If this is a YA setting, you can even get away with explicit comments like, “maybe you’re judging him too hard”, etc. 

A good example is Bryce  in <Flipped>:

Bryce is an innately shy middle schooler who finds himself inadvertently influenced by his toxic dad, who looks down on the girl (Juli) and her family. 

By flipping over to Bryce’s POV, his reluctance for the “mean” things he’s done is revealed (he’s kinda scared of his dad + he’s never been taught better)

Eventually, Bryce grows up and learns to treat Juli better. 

If you’re going to use family history/backstory as justification, remember:

The backstory doesn’t justify anything by just existing. That’s called an excuse. 

The bad boy needs to have a point of realization and grow up, moving away from his dark past into the light, towards the love interest. 

Misunderstanding

Another way to redeem a bad boy character is to shift some blame on the female character too. In fact, every story has two sides - the girl has her own goals and biases. 

For example:

Academic or workplace rivals: since the girl has to compete with him, she will tend to take offhand comments offensively, etc. 

A third person badmouthing the buy deliberately to the girl

The girl overhearing the guy saying something bad about her (which wasn’t in fact the case) and being determined to not like anything he does after

Make Him Suffer 

If you want to give your girl some backbone, just make her fight back! “Fighting back” can be in different forms:

Ignoring the guy outright

Just giving her another potential love interest who treats her better 

She literally correcting him with awesome logic and maturity that make him shut up

She crying (either out of madness or sadness), then proceeding to avoid him actively

Write about how your bad boy will eventually realize his mistakes and come around after he takes a real blow. Think about why your bad boy is being mean in the first place: it’s to get her attention. Tit-for-tat can work for female characters who have some teeth, but doing the same things he does would mean that she IS giving him attention, which ironically fulfills his initial motives. 

Personally, I think the best way to “fight back” is to no longer give him the attention, hinting that the girl wishes to move on from this unhelpful relationship status. This will set off warning signs in the MMC’s head that if he doesn’t change his ways, she would be gone for good. 

The point is, if your girl cannot tolerate something, you can’t make her sit around. If your boy is mean and immature, she needs to be the one to take the mature step - and walk away.

Apologizing in the Other Character’s Style

What the MMC will need to do to gain the girl’s attention back will depend on what she thinks, but this will often involve:

Explaining his true motivations/resolving the misunderstanding

A genuine apology 

Spending some time apart during which he can reflect and make up to her 

Undoing the damage, if this is possible

If she’s been just as bad as him on occasions, make her reciprocate the apology! Re-establish healthy boundaries that didn’t exist before, and show how they stick to it. 

#writers block #writing #creative writing #helping writers #writers on tumblr #writeblr #poets and writers #let's write #resources for writers #writers and poets #creative writers #writerscommunity #writing questions #writers of tumblr #writers life #writer stuff #writers community #writing problems #writing prompt #writing process #writing progress #writing practice

[justanotherlifeff]

Love is meaningless

[True form heian era Sukuna x reader. I may have taken many creative liberties with his backstory alongside certain spoilers so be warned!]

Love is meaningless, this was something Sukuna believed for most of his life. He can proclaim it precisely because he understands it. Being born a wretched curse by his foolish starving mother was not a start to life he had appreciated, but it was what it was. Fate was that he absorbed his twin for nourishment, fate was that he was born monstrous. One can only live with fate and become stronger, after all. Of course, he had to raise himself, of course he had to get stronger to survive. The golden age of Jujutsu meant many other cursed spirits, and of course, humans were no better. Weak people shouldn’t complain about their transgressions after all. That is simply how the world is built, to please the strong.

Yet, unexpected things happen, as it is part of life as well. Some people find it in their stupid, human, hearts to love a monster. And sometimes, something as meaningless as love creeps up in a monster’s heart too if they are weak enough. Sukuna wasn’t born the king of curses after all. It was a meaningless gesture that one might call kindness, something he believed that he didn’t deserve, that started it all. Just like his mother who birthed him, this foolish girl gave him an apple from her basket when he was starving. A foolish act of kindness from a human to a cursed being. He accepted nonetheless, as a starving man would, since this was before the days when he took whatever he wanted.

The days when he was weak enough to be considerate. For some reason, you kept coming back, with food every time, and for some reason, he didn’t leave the outskirts of that village after the first few encounters. He convinced himself that it was because your cooking was amazing, not because he wanted to see that smile on your face again, not because he was getting addicted to that kindness. Why would a human be kind to the likes of him after all? Surely, he was being delusional. However, weeks turned to months, and you wouldn’t stop visiting the small cave where he was living at, since no one would give him shelter or a job due to his monstrous features. Somehow you weren’t afraid of the four arms, the four eyes, the odd markings on his body. Somehow, you made conversation with him at one point as you watched him eagerly eat whatever food you brought him and somehow, he found himself replying. Hope was something that the weak shouldn’t have and yet, he found it in you, he made that mistake.

Looking at water in streams was something he hated, because it showed him his inhumanity and made the struggles he faced his entire life be something that was acceptable. Who would care for a monster after all? And yet, one day, you looked at him and called him beautiful with a blush on your pretty little face. He didn’t know how to reply to that, as someone who never encountered a situation like that before and yet, he couldn’t sleep all night, thinking of those words. He awkwardly called you beautiful too the next day.

Small compliments turned into teasing and at one point, neither you nor he had to say it out loud that you loved each other. It was simply something that happened. However, you had to keep it a secret from the village, and he understood why. Loving something like him had its consequences as they would kill you for being with a curse. He understood the consequences but his hunger for you was far too much to ignore. It started with kisses, and then he wanted more, so much more. And you let him take what he wanted with a smile on your face, that same smile he fell in love with. Even your old kimonos started looking like ones that queens would wear, your simple hairpin was better than the highest quality jade to him. You were beautiful and you were his and that was the best thing that happened in his wretched life at the time. Or at least, he was foolish and weak enough to believe so.

During his days as the king of curses, he saw the women he fucked as no more than pieces of meat that exist for his pleasure. One might think he wasn’t capable of being gentle, of having any other expression than the ruthless and deranged smile that adorns his face. Yet, his first time was so different, as he looked upon your beauty with nothing but wonder in his eyes, not believing his own luck as you were naked underneath him, that beautiful tint of red adorning your face. Perhaps that was when he found himself loving the color red so much, it was never about the blood of the thousands he killed later in life. You looked beautiful even with your old kimonos, but you looked divine without it, and he wasn’t shy enough to keep that opinion to himself, mostly because he wanted to see that blush on your face when he says it out loud. He wanted to hear you call out his name in that affectionate and yet pleasured voice when he was deep inside you. He wanted you, all of you, even if he didn’t deserve you.

The weak gets trampled on, it isn’t something they should complain about as it is the way of life. He almost had you, the day you came to him with a worried expression on your face and told him that you may be expecting his child. For a moment, he dreamed, despite being weak. He asked you to elope with him, that he would protect you. He knew that the child he sired would be cursed too, and that you were unmarried, so of course, overall, you would be killed if he left you alone. He loved you far too much to even consider that. “Come with me, Ill take you far from here and protect you. I’ll make sure nothing hurts you or our child. I’ll get stronger for you.” He told you with that gruff tone of his. To his surprise, you agreed. However, you were a kind little thing full of hope. You wanted to see your parents one last time before leaving with him forever. He didn’t understand it, but he wanted you to be happy, so he suggested making a binding vow. A part of him felt wary as all these felt too good to be true.

The vow was simple, it was to live as long as you can. He was still new to forming binding vows, so he forgot to acknowledge the fact that breaking the vow didn’t mean much if someone else killed you. Only that your death would be far more painful. Things were peaceful, too peaceful. He ate the food you cooked him, talked with you about a future together, looked at the sun set together. Like every day, you left him after that with a kiss on his cheek. Yet, he felt uneasy enough to sneak near the village that night after hearing the commotion.

It didn’t take long to find you, as you were right there, in the middle of the village square, or at least your severed head was. The blood splattered everywhere indicated the effects of the binding vow, your entire body exploded when your head was cut. Perhaps you were weak and ended up telling your parents, perhaps somehow, they found out that you were pregnant with his child, he would never know. That village burned that night and not a single person there survived. As he stood there, watching whatever was left of you burn with the village, it was almost as if he achieved enlightenment. The weak shouldn’t complain, so he wasn’t complaining. He would get stronger so that he would be the one taking, to fill the void that was created this day. His hunger was endless because he would never eat the food you cook again. Love is meaningless, because without you, this world lost its meaning.

#sukuna #sukuna ryomen #ryoumen sukuna #jjk sukuna #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n