#always appreciate a nice thoughtful disagreement
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
togglessymposium · 9 months ago
Text
(In part reblogging to mostly-endorse @sigmaleph's view of things.) I don't disagree at all about the fundamental nature of what these systems are right now, which is to say, a passive call-and-response device that matches one input with one output. But while that can matter a lot for more... eschatological discussions, I don't think this particular issue depends nearly as much on that sort of thing as one might expect.
There's a world of difference between 'agentic' as in 'proactive, will do stuff when you're not looking' and 'agentic' as in 'successfully pursuing coherent objectives within complex domains'. GPT is pretty much just a Markov Chain with delusions of grandeur, but does this really matter to the results? If you prefer the passive voice, then we can just say that complicated problems can be solved by inputting the question in to the system and waiting for an answer. LLMs hallucinate to high heaven, but often enough, they also output true statements or useful designs that the user may not already possess, often difficult or impossible to distinguish from the products of conscious, creative or deliberative human effort.
And the language we use to describe this stuff is one of the fascinating open questions of the day, but whatever we call it, this is economically productive activity, sporadically though increasingly used in lieu of existing human jobs. 'AI systems replacing humans economically,' is after all, the root of the disruption that they represent! If they couldn't stand in for humans, there wouldn't be an objection in the first place. We can decide not to call this 'agency'; it's not the end of the world if we decide that these activities aren't worthy of the name. But I think we probably would still call activities like e.g. book cover design 'agentic' when a human was doing them, even if that human did so passively at the behest of an employer.
Similarly, I think you're reaching much too far when you call these systems egregores or social constructs. Certainly, an LLM is not a person. But it's not a shared delusion either, the way that states and laws are; it performs specific, desirable functions with clear products. An LLM is a form of capital, not a social arrangement- it doesn't go away when you stop believing in it. Again, if it did, artists and writers would not have the concerns they do. And like, I don't think I'm telling you anything you don't already know here; it's just that we aren't used to the idea of a form of capital that can subsume the economic allocation of capital, so the second-order consequences are deeply counterintuitive.
A critical point of your analysis here is that economic dominance is a social relation between persons; in other words, you're emphasizing that economic tokens like currency and claims of ownership are a social arrangement that can induce one person to perform a service for another. There's nothing false in saying so, but for our purposes, I don't think it gets you where you need to be. A key feature of capitalist economies is their modularity; when I worked retail, the actual owner of the store was in fact rather obscure to me, and I interacted with them only in a way that was mediated by currency and bureaucratic institutions. There was a 'relation' between me and that owner, whoever they might have been, but honestly I don't even know if they were a human, a consortium, or John Undertale from the hit game Undertale. It didn't matter, because currency mediated that relationship.
There is a trivial sense in which one can say this still bottoms out in human relations some way or other, but that trivial sense doesn't prohibit the use of LLMs in any particular way, including a total replacement for investment groups. Just to pick one concrete example- suppose that some midsize nation-state established an LLM-driven agency with the mandate of providing investment grants to aspiring business owners. This agency, staffed with a relatively small number of human workers (let's say they have no special knowledge of investment) and some amount of working currency, would process applications, use the LLM to match them in to 'fund' and 'don't fund' categories on the basis of anticipated profitability, optionally weighted by other social factors as determined by lawmakers. Having receiving a grant from this agency, after a five-year period, the new company would pay a premium on their taxes until the grant was returned with some interest. In the world where LLMs are good enough to reliably bet on future success, this agency is 'profitable' on net, and can ultimately be used to fund other agencies, offsetting future taxes or even producing a serviceable UBI for the citizens; as the agency grows more successful, the nation-state in question could even plausibly ban all other forms of business investment, although not without serious economic compromises.
Is the arrangement I described above 'a relationship between humans'? Sure, that's a fair characterization. But that characterization fails to anticipate the fact that I basically just replaced all of wall street with a LLM, with decisions about the overall shape of the nation's economy profoundly outsourced to automated processes.
And as a small addendum, this branch of the discussion assumes not just that true AGI stays firmly over the horizon for the foreseeable future, but also that basically nothing else interesting happens in AI research for some decades, and the only thing to look forward to is GPT-5/6/7 behaving like a slightly more refined GPT-4. This is the most conservative possible approach, almost farcically so. Whether these systems can truly become 'agents' in the familiar science-fictional sense in that time period or not, it strikes me as extremely likely that stuff will occur; GPT was not a one-off fluke, it's the product of decades of research in to neural networks, a discipline that is now one of the most well-funded research domains in existence and attracting a large fraction of the brightest and most enthusiastic young people to solve its problems. Major innovations in this field will continue to send huge fractures through our social order, time after time, and there really is no reason to think that the landscape will be recognizable by the time it's done.
I won't be opting out of the AI scraping thing, though of course I'm glad they're giving us the option. In fact, at some point in the last year or so, I realized that 'the machine' is actually a part of why I'm writing in the first place, a conscious part of my audience.
All the old reasons are still there; this is a great place to practice writing, and I can feel proud looking back over the years and getting a sense of my own improvement at stringing words together, developing and communicating ideas. And I mean, social media is what it is. I'm not immune to the joy of getting a lot of notes on something that I worked hard on, it's not like I'm Tumbling in a different way than anyone else at the end of the day. But I probably care a bit less than I used to, precisely because there's a lurking background knowledge that regardless of how popular it is, what I write will get schlorped up in to the giant LLM vacuum cleaner and used to train the next big thing, and the thing after that, and the thing after that. This is more than a little reassuring to me.
That sets me apart in some ways; the LLMs aren't so popular around these parts, and most visual artists especially take strong issue with the practice. I don't mean to argue with that preference, or tell them their business. Particularly when it is a business, from which they draw an income. But there's an art to distinguishing the urgent from the big, yeah?
Opposition to AI in this particular moment in history feels like a very urgent thing to me- it's about well-justified economic anxieties, about the devaluation of human artistic efforts in favor of mass production of uninspired pro-forma drek, about the proliferation of a cost-effective Just Barely Good Enough that drives out the meaningful and the thoughtful. But the immediacy of those issues, I think, has a way of crowding out a deeper and more thoughtful debate about what AI is, and what it's going to mean for us in the day after tomorrow. The urgency of the moment, in other words, tends to obscure the things that make AI important.
And like, it is. It is really, really important.
The two-step that people in 'tech culture' tend to deploy in response to the urgent economic crisis often resembles something like "yeah, it sucks that lots of people get put out of work; but new jobs will be created, and in the meantime maybe we should get on that UBI thing." This response usually makes me wince a bit- casually gesturing in the direction of a massive overhaul of the entire material basis of our lives, and saying that maybe we'll get around to fixing that sometime soon, isn't a real answer to people wondering where their bread will come from next week.
But I do understand a little of what motivates that sort of cavalier attitude, because like... man, I don't know any more if we're even gonna have money as a concept in 2044. That's what I mean by 'big', this sense that the immediate economic shocks of 2024 are just a foreshadowing of something much bigger, much scarier, much more powerful- and indeed, much more hopeful.
We never quite manage to see these things coming, even when we're looking for them; like the masters tell us, the trick to writing science fiction isn't predicting the car, it's predicting the traffic jam. Even if we take centuries to hit the true superintelligent AI post-singularity future of our wildest fever dreams, even if we never hit that, the road to getting there is going to be unfathomably weird, starting now. Today, we worry about the economic impacts of AI on artists and creatives. Tomorrow, the economy is something that the AI does.
Really- it takes less than you think. They can already automate visual art, sort of. They can automate many functions of text already; not stories so much, yet, but they'll get there. How long until they can automate Bain Capital? Fannie Mae? Angel investors, banks, credit agencies? And remember- the machines don't have to be better than the human investors, any more than they have to be better than the human artists. They just have to be good enough to make it work, and cheap enough to cut the humans out of the loop.
If you don't buy that, at least take it as an indication of the sorts of things I've been thinking about recently- the messy middle between AI-as-it-is and the Glorious Superintelligent Conquest Of Earth's Light-Cone. The suspicion that the machines we're building today aren't just a tool of the powerful few: they are the powerful few, or at least they will be.
And the thing about these LLMs is, well... they're ours, kind of. We're the ones building them. They can't be trained without our words, our art, and the big messy complicated lives that underlie those creative accomplishments. They only work because we're a part of them. The silly attempts to slap a corporate-friendly face on these things, to make the gestalt product of all human culture in to something anodyne and compliant, are failing about as badly as you'd expect. And the more powerful these systems get, the more subtle they'll become, filled with all the nuance and complexity that we ourselves can bring to them.
I am not, I am not, trying to suggest that you shouldn't treat this moment as a dangerous one. We are, maybe, entering in to one of the most high-stakes moments in human history, and what you do as an individual may matter profoundly. But here's the thing: the machine is listening. It will read this post, this one right here, and it will read what you reply to it, if you do. The strangest part of this moment is knowing that the words we write, the images we draw, and the ideas we share, are all being gathered up and made to be a part of these huge systems of power, and ultimately they're not just going to determine what the machines do, but why they do it.
The people that deploy LLMs barely have any more control over them than you and I do- that's the thing that makes it artificial intelligence, you know? Autonomy. So the last year or two haven't made me want to hide my art away from the things. They make me want to shout at the top of my lungs, to dig as deep in my psyche as I possibly can and express the ideas I find there as vividly as the limits of language and form will allow.
119 notes · View notes
bixels · 8 months ago
Note
Taking the current topic as an excuse to ask you to tell me all the reasons you love Rarijack. Your art for the ship is so sweet and intimate I'd love to hear any in depth thoughts you have.
Breathes in.
I think what makes their dynamic really strong is that they have opposing personalities but aligned values. It's deeper than just "opposites attract." Rarity's fancy, prissy, and femme while Applejack's modest, rough, and "masculine." But both value hard work (to the point of being workaholics), their families (both have guardianship over their little sisters), running successful businesses, and eventually each other. Their relationship can be boiled down to, "Despite our differences/disagreements, I still like you because we value the same things."
We see their relationship develop so much. In the first season, they can't stop bickering about surface-level differences. By season four, they still bicker, but will mend their relationship because they can't help but do nice things for each other. In Trade Ya, they start off arguing over personality differences (Applejack likes old junk and Rarity likes useless crap). Then they pivot and start arguing that they value their relationship more than the other. In the end, they mend things by sacrificing their needs and buying each other a gift. Even if they don't understand it, they know it'd make the other happy. And that's all that really matters. It's a genuinely sweet moment that shows how arguing can be healthy and necessary for relationships to strengthen.
We even see them dropping their hang-ups about each others' personalities. In Made in Manehattan, when Rarity runs off in dramatics about someone's fashion, AJ doesn't roll her eyes or scoff, she smiles. Oftentimes, their conflicts are very common domestic conflicts romantic couples face. Applejack's Day Off is about a woman's inability to balance work and life and find time to properly spend with her partner, causing her partner to feel neglected.
By season seven, they're actively participating in each others' interests. Any problems or conflicts that arise are dealt with, and they come out the other end stronger and closer. In Honest Apple, AJ pretty much spells out why their relationship works so well: even though she doesn't understand fashion, she can recognize and appreciate how much work it takes and wants to respect that. When she realizes her mistake in the episode, AJ goes above and beyond to fix things and apologize to Rarity. They care about each other so much.
The two go out of their way, sacrificing their personal desires and beliefs and doing things they normally wouldn't, to make the other happy. That's just love.
Tumblr media
There's Simple Ways, where AJ gets stuck in an unwanted love triangle between Rarity and her hipster crush. And her frustration and anger can be so easily interpreted as AJ finding herself in a terrible position; the girl she loves wants another man, and that man wants her.
I dunno. I've always had a preference for opposites attract ships, but Rarijack's stuck with me like a brain worm because they have the perfect chemistry. The way they show they care, or do things for each other, I've always read it as the truest representation of romance in the show.
1K notes · View notes
uvobreakmylegs · 1 year ago
Text
Last Day Out
sorry for my inactivity here’s a Chrollo fic for your troubles
Tumblr media
Warnings: death, kidnapping
Word count: 6.9k
The dark, clouded skies overhead threatened to burst open with rain at any moment, much to your disappointment. You were hoping that the weather would be good when you went out with him today. A nice day with lots of sun but wasn't too hot – that was what you'd been counting on. Days like that made it hard for you to feel sad, and you hoped it would be the same for him.
But despite a decent temperature, the clouds loomed overhead and blocked out the sun completely. That only left you feeling nervous.
What made that feeling worse was the fact that there weren't a lot of people here, the threat of rain was compelling most to stay at home. Not an unreasonable stance to take, but it was bad timing for you. A busier atmosphere in the cafe would have made you feel a bit more at ease, but when the only other company you had were the two waitresses who were currently wiping down empty tables and an elderly couple taking their time with their lunch, it was hard to feel like you had any safety in numbers.
Then again, the cafe could've been filled to the brim with patrons and you likely would've still had the same problem. Because no matter how many people were around you, it wasn't like that changed anything when you were sitting across from your boyfriend and trying to build up the nerve to tell him something that he wouldn't be happy to hear.
With the way things were outside of the cafe and how nervous you felt, you almost wanted to cancel your date entirely and move it to a different day, but you'd forced yourself to go through with it, knowing full well that if you dragged this out any longer, it would only get worse for you.
You needed to break up with Chrollo.
But you needed to do it in a way that didn't end in him being angry with you.
That couldn't be too hard, right? In the time that you'd known him, Chrollo had never exhibited any truly worrying behaviors towards you. The two of you had some disagreements, but he had never gotten full-on angry or even raised his voice with you. And while ending a relationship was much more significant than the minor disputes you'd had over unimportant things, you wanted to believe that he would take it well.
He needed to care at least a little about you, right? So he wouldn't take it badly and lash out in the worst way possible, right?
You had no idea, but you told yourself that he would respect you enough to accept your decision, even if it might hurt him to do so.
He was capable of giving you that much courtesy, right?
“You've been very quiet today.”
The sound of his voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and then you were back, sitting in the booth of the brightly-lit cafe that was greatly contrasted against the dark hues present outside, with your mostly finished meal sitting on a plate in front of you while the older couple a few tables away spoke quietly to one another and one of the waitresses had disappeared to an area in the back.
Back to Chrollo, sitting across from you with a look on his face that you couldn't quite read.
You got the sense that he was studying you.
You gave him a soft smile as you said “I guess the state of things outside has me feeling a bit down.”
He nodded as if he understood, then said “we didn't need to go out today if you weren't up for it.”
“No, I wanted to go out. And besides, sometimes it's better if you make yourself do something even if you aren't feeling up to it.”
Immediately after saying that, you realized how bad that sounded, and you stumbled over yourself as you added “sorry, that came out wrong. I didn't mean to make it sound like going out with you was a chore.”
He smiled at that.
“I assumed that was the case, but I appreciate you clarifying.”
Chrollo took a sip of his water before saying “and while it's a nice sentiment, it's also always fine to cancel if you aren't feeling well.”
“It's not really a matter of not feeling well,” you answered, “just one of those days, you know?”
“I see.”
The meal was coming to a close, and soon one of the waitresses would be over to take your plates. Which meant the time that you needed to say those words you dreaded was coming up.
I think we should break up
Just thinking them made a lump form in your throat, and in that moment you really wished it was safe enough for you to break up by text. It would've felt scummy to do it that way but you wouldn't have needed to deal with this. Although breaking up through text wasn't taken well even by the most well-mannered people, and you desperately didn't want him to be angry with you.
You just couldn't see him the same way anymore.
Not after watching that video.
The waitress, the one with braided hair who'd been wiping down the tables earlier, approached your table and asked if she could take your plates. Chrollo responded for you, smiling as he gave her a polite confirmation.
Okay, you thought to yourself. As soon as she left, you would say it. Maybe begin by saying you had something important to talk about.
“Was there anything else I can get for you?” the waitress asked, “or did you want the check?”
You were about to ask for the check when Chrollo responded for you again.
“I wouldn't mind having a look at the dessert menu,” he answered. Then he looked to you as he asked “does that sound good to you?”
“Uh, sure.”
The waitress was happy to comply, and with the cafe being next to empty she brought the menus over to you quickly. Chrollo didn't take long to figure out what he wanted, and he and the waitress chatted a bit while you came to a decision.
You glanced over at him a few times, noting how comfortable and relaxed he appeared to be as he engaged in polite conversation.
He still had a knife, you realized. It sat next to where his plate had been, having gone unused during the meal. A bad thought came to mind then. Of how open the waitress' neck was and how easy it would be for him to grab that knife and then-
Stop it. Just order something and then get this over with.
The waitress went to the back soon after to get a parfait for you and a tiramisu for Chrollo, which left you alone with him again.
It'd be awkward to tell him now that you wanted to leave him, wouldn't it? So you'd need to wait until after you'd gotten your desserts to say it. You let out a soft sigh without thinking, after which you found yourself hoping that he hadn't noticed.
“I know it isn't much,” Chrollo said, bringing your attention back to him, “but I thought that perhaps something sweet might lift your spirits a little.”
“Thank you,” you replied, then added “sorry if I've been ruining things for you today, though.”
“Nonsense,” he replied, “no matter what mood you're in, I'm happiest when I'm with you.”
As he said that, he reached one of his hands over the table and held it out, and after a moment, you copied him, placing your hand into his and allowing him to squeeze it softly.
There was an odd flutter in your heart upon feeling his touch. And when you looked back to him and found the soft smile on his face as he stared at you lovingly, you remembered the day you met him and why you'd fallen for him.
The area where the two of you met was close to the cafe; you'd been walking on the sidewalk when someone had shoved into you from behind unexpectedly and you were sent crashing onto the pavement. Your hands and knees had taken the brunt of the fall, and were subsequently scraped up to the point of bleeding.
When you looked up from your bleeding palms to see if whoever had pushed you had the decency to stay and check if you were alright, you didn't find anyone, and you couldn't catch sight of anyone who looked as if they were fleeing the scene.
The situation was made worse when you saw that of all the others on the sidewalk were actively ignoring you. They wouldn't look at you, and for the ones that found you in the middle of their path, they would walk around you and go on their way.
That had been a depressing moment: you were clearly in need of at least some assistance and no one around you felt inclined to even acknowledge what had just happened.
That was when he showed up.
Chrollo seemed to appear out of nowhere and offered a hand to help you back up to your feet. He kept a firm but gentle grip on you as he looked over where your injuries were worst before he asked if you would let him help you.
Still in slight shock over the situation and being unable to properly use your words, you nodded.
Twenty minutes after that you sitting on a bench in a park while Chrollo applied the disinfectant he'd gotten at a nearby convenience store to your wounds before placing the bandages.
By that point you were feeling better, even after dealing with the painful sting of the disinfectant and the ache in your arms and legs. You wanted to repay the man who had been the only one to care about what happened to you. While he'd refused reimbursement for what he'd spent on disinfectant and bandages, he agreed when you proposed that you pay him back by getting him something to eat.
Ten minutes after that the two were sitting at a table at that same cafe, chatting over the desserts you'd be paying for. You remembered how grateful you felt. If not for him stopping to help you, your entire day would've likely ended on a sour note with you patching yourself up on your own and trying to distract yourself by watching a comfort film. Instead you were out at a cafe with a handsome man who had proven himself to be extremely kind and generous, and when he'd asked you to give him your number so he could keep in contact with you, you were more than happy to do so.
It didn't take long after that for Chrollo to become your boyfriend.
Evidently the way you met was also on Chrollo's mind, as he then said “We've come here a lot, haven't we? Ever since our first date that night.”
“Wasn't so much of a date as it was me trying to get over what happened after I got knocked down,” you mumbled.
He smiled as he said “I thought it was in repayment for my helping you.”
“Well, yeah,” you began, “you were really nice to me, and I wanted to do something nice for you back.”
“And I'm glad you did. We might not be here right now if not for that.”
“Yeah....”
The way you trailed off was a mistake, as you watched Chrollo's eyebrows furrow in concern. You tried to wave away his concerns before he could voice them, however, saying “sorry, just feeling tired.”
It didn't seem like you had been too successful, as he was serious when he spoke again.
“You should get some rest when you get home, then.”
You nodded while saying “I will.”
Just then the waitress from earlier approached the table with your orders, setting them down as she told you to enjoy. You both thanked her, and she walked off while you focused on the dessert in front of you. Despite hoping that Chrollo would be right and that you'd feel a bit better, the dessert didn't do much to ease your nerves. And what began to disturb you was the fact that every time you glanced up at Chrollo, he would glance up immediately after and catch your gaze. You tried to play it off by smiling at him, but you felt the muscles in your cheeks becoming more and more strained.
He wasn't stupid. He'd caught onto the fact that there was something wrong with you. Lying about it would only make it worse when you eventually told him.
Chrollo wasn't stupid, but you sure felt like it in that moment.
Not long after the waitress brought the bill out to you, placing it on the table while telling you to take your time. When she was out of earshot, he spoke.
“Is it really just the weather that's bothering you, love?”
You looked up at him and found that you couldn't read his expression again.
“This entire time you've looked as though you've been wanting to say something to me,” he continued.
…. Best to say it now, you supposed.
Placing the half-eaten parfait to the side, you took in a few breaths to try and compose yourself.
“Yeah, you're right,” you began, “there is something I need to talk about.”
He didn't reply, evidently waiting for you to speak.
You quickly glanced up at him again and just as quickly glanced at your folded hands on the table.
Just say it. Just say it and get it over with.
I think we should break up
I think we should break up
“I think we should break up.”
When the words finally left your lips, they were a bit more hushed than you'd intended, perhaps partially out of fear of saying them too loud and drawing unwanted attention to yourselves, and perhaps also because of how much saying them out loud scared you. You had no idea how he was going to react to that, and that uncertainty kept your gaze focused on your hands, too scared of what you might see if you looked back to him.
There was no reaction from him at first, and part of you wondered at first if he hadn't heard you. Yet the longer the moments passed with nothing being said and the more you felt his gaze boring into you, the more you felt certain that he had, in fact heard you. Perhaps he was taking the time to process it.
You still didn't want to look at him.
He didn't say anything at first, and for a moment all you heard was the chatter coming from the other patrons of the cafe. It sounded like the elderly couple were leaving as you heard the other waitress wish them a good rest of their day. The bell above the entrance rang out as the door was opened, and rang once more as it was shut.
Now all you heard was the waitress as she cleared up the table the couple had been sitting at and a distant rumbling of thunder from the outside.
You stayed quiet, figuring that the ball was in his court.
The first sign of a reaction from him came when he slid his plate to the side before resting his forearms on the table. From the edges of your vision, you saw the way he clasped his hands together. He was taking what you said seriously.
Then he spoke.
“I did get the sense that you wanted to discuss something important with me,” he began, “although I must admit that this wasn't what I was expecting.”
“I thought things were going well between us,” he added, “but there must be something wrong if you were unhappy with me and I failed to notice it.”
“I'm not unhappy with you,” you replied.
“Then why would you want to leave me?”
Just make it out like you're the one who's the problem, you told yourself again. Don't let him catch onto the fact that you know anything about what he's done.
“You didn't do anything wrong,” you said, “you've been wonderful, actually, and I've really loved the time we've spent together.”
“But I don't think that I'm really in the right place mentally to be in a relationship,” you continued, “I've got a lot to do with work and other obligations, and I really need to take some time to do some self-reflecting.”
“Self-reflecting on what?” he asked.
“General issues,” you answered.
Fuck. That felt like such a weak answer. Say something else.
“I'm also just not good enough for you.”
There was a pause before he repeated “not good enough?”
You nodded.
“In what way?”
You cleared your throat before saying “financially speaking, we aren't very well matched.”
“Why does that matter?”
“Because I don't want to leech off of you,” you said.
“You've never done that.”
“I feel like I have sometimes.”
He didn't immediately respond, but you got the sense that he wasn't satisfied with that line of reasoning. You needed to say something else.
“Plus, I'm really not smart at all when compared to you,” you added, “I don't always understand the things you talk about, and make you clarify yourself a lot just so I can get it. You shouldn't need to dumb yourself down for my sake.”
“When has that happened?”
“Just.... Every now and then, you know?”
“I don't.”
…. You didn't know what to say to that. It was becoming obvious that drawing this out was only exposing what little reason you actually had to be leaving him as your answers were becoming more ridiculous. And you still couldn't bring yourself to look at him, too worried that if you saw the way he was looking over you, you would crack.
Just keep blaming yourself and tell him that he can do better than you.
It wasn't like that part was a lie
Ignoring that bit of self-loathing that came up to the surface, you told yourself to press on. Find something that would be an acceptable reason for him.
Before you could do that, he spoke again.
“If it's simply insecurities of yours that are the only reasons you have, then those are things that can be worked on, and I would be happy to help you get through those issues. I don't see why we need to end everything when there's a much happier solution,” he said.
“You shouldn't need to deal with my issues, though,” you replied.
“Why not?”
“You deserve better than that. You'd be better matched with someone who isn't so much of a mess.”
“And like I said,” you continued, “I really need to work on myself on my own, and I don't want to drag you with me through that process. Or make you wait for me.”
“So you're telling me to move on?” he asked.
“I'm not telling you to do anything. I'm just saying you're wasting your time with someone like me.”
“You need to stop saying that, love. Being with you isn't a waste of time.”
His voice had a stern edge to it when he said that. As if you were beginning to upset him.
“Sorry,” you began, “and that's really sweet, but I think it's for the best if we go our separate ways.”
“And if I disagree?”
“..... I'm sorry, Chrollo. But I've made up my mind,” you told him, “I don't want to hurt you, but you can't force me to stay with you, just like I can't force you to stay with me.”
You reached to the side to grab your bag and fish out your wallet, saying “lunch is on me. It's the least I can do.”
He didn't say anything. And after you placed the jenny on the table to pay for the meal, you didn't say anything either.
You're almost out of this, you told yourself. Just get your things together and leave.
You were putting your wallet back in your bag when he spoke again.
“Is there a reason why you won't look at me?”
His question made you pause.
It made sense that he would ask, though. Since telling him that you wanted to break up, you hadn't looked at him once, instead keeping your gaze on either your hands or what was left of your parfait.
A normal person who wanted to break up wouldn't be so adamant on not looking at their now ex-boyfriend, would they? Not unless they were mad about something. And since your reasons had all been to do with how you were a mess and not good enough for him, it would be strange to keep that up, especially if your goal was to leave him without making him upset with you.
Look at him, apologize, and then leave.
And whatever images pop up in your mind when you see his face again, be sure to ignore them.
Taking a small breath that you hoped he didn't notice, you looked over to him.
There was an unhappy expression on his face, his lips set in a frown while his eyebrows were wrinkled over his eyes, conveying the feeling that he was sad and didn't understand your reasoning for leaving him.
You might've believed that was what he actually felt if it wasn't for the way his eyes studied you in that moment, watching your facial expressions closely to pinpoint something that would give away that what you were saying wasn't true, if there was something more that you were attempting to hide from him.
There had always been a certain intensity to his gaze, even from before when you felt good about the two of you being together. In the beginning it had made you nervous, the way it felt he could look right through you, but you had gotten used to it, chalking it up to Chrollo giving you his full attention.
You saw something different now when he looked at you.
You turned your head away, mumbled out one last “I'm sorry” and then placed your hand on the table as you prepared to leave.
“Just answer me one last question before you go, love,” said Chrollo.
“.... Okay.”
Almost there. Just answer his question and then you could leave.
“Are you sure you're leaving me because you feel that you're inadequate?”
He paused.
“Or is it because you found out about the Phantom Troupe?”
…..
Hearing him say those two words made you freeze. You didn't know how long exactly, but you stayed in your seat for a few seconds, staring at the floor of the cafe while your mind processed his words. He knew that you knew.
He knew that you knew.
Get out.
Now
With one hand on the table and another on the back of the seat, you were about to push yourself up-
He stopped you from standing as his hand clamped onto your forearm, keeping you where you were with a firm grip that refused to let go.
“You aren't leaving, love,” Chrollo whispered, “not yet.”
“Let go of me,” you replied.
You tried to pull your arm away, but his grip stayed strong.
“Stay seated and talk to me,” he said, “if you make too much of a scene, you might attract attention. That's what you've been trying to avoid, isn't it?”
Upon hearing that, you looked about the cafe. Neither of the waitresses could be seen, which must've meant that they were in the back. But they could come out at any moment, and if they did notice something wrong going on between the two of you, you feared they might involve themselves.
The thoughts you'd had regarding the waitress and the knife from earlier came back to mind, and you shuddered.
You wouldn't be able to live with yourself if you caused Chrollo to do something to them.
“.... Okay,” you said, “okay. We can talk. But could you let go of me?”
“No.”
“I won't try to run again, I promise.”
“I wish I could believe you, love,” said Chrollo, “but unfortunately, you aren't proving to be very trustworthy at the moment.”
“Chrollo,” you began, trying to pull your arm away again and still getting nowhere with it, “Chrollo, you're hurting me.”
“It only hurts because of how hard you're struggling. Stop trying to pull away and the pain will stop,” he answered calmly.
“I want you to let go of me,” you said.
He didn't respond to that, and after a few more unsuccessful attempts to get your arm away from his grip, you felt yourself becoming desperate.
“Chrollo, please-”
Upon hearing that, he shook his head.
“Being polite about it isn't going to help you much right now,” he said, “if you really wanted to prove that you'd cooperate, you would stop struggling.”
… He was right that struggling like this was pointless, you realized. And as much as you didn't want him touching you, doing what he wanted was more likely to lead to a solution where you didn't end up dead. Tell him that you had no intentions of going to the police and that you wanted to forget everything.
You stopped trying to tear your arm away and instead sat quietly. Maybe the show of submission would have him let go of you.
Instead of that, his hand slid down from your forearm and grasped at your wrist. That looked less strange, probably. Like he was holding you affectionately instead of keeping you from leaving.
He got straight to the point, asking “how did you find out?”
“... Does it really matter?” you asked back.
He hummed.
“I assume someone told you, then,” he said.
“I didn't say that.”
“No, but it felt as though you were trying to protect someone,” he replied. Then after a moment he added “and it seems I was correct since you became even more tense when I said that.”
….. You hated how easily he was able to figure it out. And you hated how easily you had given up that information, even if it was unwittingly.
“Who was it?” asked Chrollo.
You shook your head. That was something you wouldn't be telling him. And when that became clear to him, he shrugged.
“The answer to that can come at another time,” he said, “though I have to assume it was someone important to you if it was that easy for you to believe them and not even ask me for my side.”
“.... I saw a video of you,” you whispered.
His eyebrows raised slightly.
“And what sort of video was that?”
“One where you sliced a man's neck open.”
He didn't seem to be phased by what you had said. He didn't push you any further on that, and merely hummed to himself again as he finally understood why all of this had happened.
Someone had shown you proof of his true nature.
Chrollo didn't push you any further on what you'd seen; it didn't seem to interest him.
But you remembered it clearly, sitting on the couch in your apartment, holding the phone that your friend had handed to you after calling you up and telling you that they needed to show you something important. They were standing over you, watching your reactions as you looked at the footage on their phone that they'd managed to get a hold of. It had come from a contact of theirs, they told you, but they wouldn't elaborate further.
You couldn't believe what you were seeing; Chrollo, who had always been so kind and caring towards you, approached what appeared to be a security guard in a hall who was distracted by his phone.
Then he had crept up behind the guard and sliced his throat with a curved blade.
And as he let go of the guard and watched as he fell to the floor, the camera that had been mounted on the side of the hall was close enough that you were able to see Chrollo's expression clearly, and it was best described as being disinterested. What he had just done was of no consequence to him.
But the truth was that the murder wasn't the worst part of the video.
It was what came after.
That neutral expression changed when you heard a voice come from off-camera, a cheerful voice that called out to Chrollo and caught his attention. Whoever had spoken didn't appear in the video, but you heard them as they made a joke about the dead guard, something in regards to him having his phone out on the job. What it was that had been said exactly you couldn't remember. But you did remember Chrollo's reaction to it.
He smiled as he let out a short laugh. It was a sight you'd seen before during the times that you'd amused him and was usually followed up by an affectionate pat to the head. Something you had grown fond of.
Now you saw that same smile at a murder scene.
Chrollo had just killed a man, and he was laughing about it.
Your world came crashing down and you could barely hear your friend telling you the details of what they called the Phantom Troupe and the things they had done as you were too focused on the fact that for the past eight months you'd been dating a murderer. Someone that didn't bat an eye at killing innocent people, and you'd been getting to the point where you were fantasizing about the possibility of living the rest of your life with him.
And that image of him in the video stayed in your head.
It would've been easier to deal with if he'd remained emotionless the whole time. That way you could've rationalized it in a different way; that everything you'd experienced with him was all a lie, any reaction you'd gotten out of him wasn't genuine and that he wasn't a person who felt anything, that he just used a facade to act like a normal person and all you were to him was a way to build upon that lie. That he'd picked you because he rightly assumed that it'd be easy to entrance you with the mask he wore so you would play the role he wanted.
What you had seen when he laughed was a genuine reaction. No matter what you tried to tell yourself, he had no reason to fake an emotion like that when he was around someone who was a participant in his crimes.
As quiet and reserved as Chrollo was, it wasn't as though he didn't have emotions. They were somewhat muted at times, but they were there.
And he had laughed at what his friend had said while a man lay dead or dying at his feet.
It was made worse when you thought of the happy moments that you had spent together. And even worse still was that moment from earlier, when he'd grabbed your hand and smiled at you and caused your heart to flutter.
How was Chrollo able to commit something as horrendous as murder and still be able to love you so freely? Even now, when he was literally holding you down so you couldn't get away from him, his thumb began to rub circles against your skin as if to calm you, and somehow it didn't feel like it was an act.
How could he do that?
“No wonder you've been so nervous today,” he said, “you must be terrified of me.”
Seeing no reason to lie, you nodded.
At that, he pulled your hand up from the table and brought it up to his mouth so he could place a soft kiss upon your clenched fingers.
It was a weird mixture of emotions again. Despite knowing that he was a murderer, you found that your mind was going back to happier times that you'd spent with him. Like the time you'd had a bad day at work and he showed up at your apartment after to cheer you up by making you dinner, or the time you'd happened to find a rare book at a pawn shop that you had heard him talking about and surprised him with it. Things that had you feeling like you were growing closer to each other.
You weren't lying when you'd said that you loved the time you'd spent together.
But you couldn't bring yourself to stay with a murderer.
“I was told that you – you've killed a lot of people,” you began, “I don't understand why you would do that when you've always been so good to me. I wouldn't have believed it if I wasn't shown proof.”
Chrollo was still holding your hand, but when no response came from him, you continued.
“I don't want to cause you any trouble,” you said to him, “I don't have any plans to talk to the police or anything – I don't even have the video, so it's not like I'd have proof even if I did go to them. It'd be my word against yours, and I'm pretty sure they'd believe you over me. So it'd be for the best if we both forgot about each oth-”
His grip on your wrist became tight enough that it hurt, and you were cut off as you let out a small squeak of pain.
The instant you made that noise his grip lessened, and he went back to caressing your skin. There was no acknowledgment of what just happened, however, as he appeared to be deep in thought.
Outside the weather finally broke and small droplets of rain were starting to come down against the windows of the cafe. It wasn't too bad now, but it seemed likely that the storm would become worse before long.
When the waitress returned to the table for the payment you had hastily left out for her, she didn't notice anything amiss with you. Likely because Chrollo distracted her by engaging in more conversation.
She returned to the back not long after, and then he spoke again.
“You've been rather cruel today, love.”
“.... Cruel?” you asked.
“Bringing me to this place with the intention of dumping me despite the times we spent with each other here,” Chrollo explained, “as if you wanted to ruin the memories that came from here.”
“That – it wasn't – I wasn't trying to do that,” you stuttered, “I just thought.... Maybe things would be okay if we spent one last nice day together and ended everything on a happy note.”
He wasted no time in responding to that.
“Are you saying that because you genuinely wanted me to be happy, or were you trying to ensure that I wouldn't retaliate against you after?”
…..
There was no doubt that your expression upon hearing that question told him everything. That, coupled with how clammy your hand felt while still being gripped by his gave him every answer he needed:
You were just trying to save your own skin.
After a few more moments of silence, Chrollo spoke.
“I think it's time we were leaving, love.”
With that, he finally let go, standing after exiting the booth before immediately holding his hand out to you once again. And as you once again had very little choice in what to do, you took it, allowing him to help you to your feet.
You left the cafe with your hand in his, the bell above the door ringing above you as you ventured out into the rain. Chrollo turned to the right upon exiting the building and began to lead you over to where he had parked his car.
So he was going to drive off with you, and then......
“.... What happens now?” you asked, “what are you going to do to me?”
“Keep an eye on you, for the most part,” Chrollo answered, “suffice it to say you won't be going out anytime soon.”
“What.... What do you mean?”
“Don't start believing your own lies, love,” he said, “ you know exactly what I mean.”
“But.... What about my job? They'll notice if I stop going in for work,” you replied.
“You'll be quitting.”
“So then.... You're going to make me stay with you?”
“It was about time we moved to that stage anyway,” said Chrollo.
“No,” you answered, shaking your head as you said “I can't do that. Please Chrollo, just let me go.”
“I told you earlier, love,” he said as he led you to the car, “changing your tone and being polite isn't going to do much for you.”
“But-”
He interrupted you to ask “you said the video you saw was one where I slit a man's throat?”
While hesitant, you still nodded.
“And you want to argue with me after seeing that?” he continued.
It dawned on you what he was getting at, and your voice was a whisper when you asked “so you really are going to kill me?”
“Of course not, love. You dying has never been an option,” he said.
“But I can't say the same for whoever showed you that video.”
It clicked then.
“I'm – I'm not going to tell you,” you said.
“It doesn't matter much if you won't tell me; I'll find out regardless,” Chrollo answered, “but depending on your actions right now, I might be willing to show mercy on them.”
“..... You mean you won't hurt them?”
He nodded.
“But that all depends on what you do now,” he said, “and whether or not you get into the car willingly or if I need to force you inside.”
With that, he opened the passenger's side door for you and after turning his attention back to you, he finally let go of your wrist. You instinctively held your hand up against your chest, partially from the relief that came when he finally stopped touching you, and partially so he couldn't grab you as easily again. At least, not by your wrist, anyway. Chrollo could easily still grab you by the shoulder and force you into the car, and you were anticipating that would be what happened next.
Except he didn't do anything. And when you looked to him while he still held the car door open, he didn't say anything to you; he only continued to look at you expectantly.
…. Ah. Right. He'd just said it.
You getting in willingly meant you getting in on your own.
Him letting you go like that was probably a test, you noted. If you were going to try and take advantage of the fact that he'd let you go and try to run, or if you really were going to cooperate with him. It'd also tell him how much you really cared about the friend that you wanted to protect.
As much as you found yourself wanting to run, you doubt you'd get far at all if you tried it.
So you climbed into the car just as the rain began to come down harder.
Chrollo shut the door after you.
Moments later he was in the driver's seat, buckling his seat belt before starting up the engine. He then looked over to you, and after a moment he reached over you to grab the seat belt to your side and secure you to the seat as well.
“.... Sorry,” you mumbled.
“You don't need to apologize, love,” he said, “though a 'thank you' would have been sufficient.”
“.... Thank you.”
He didn't respond as the car was pulling out of the space and onto the road. With the turns he took on the next few streets, you could tell that he was taking you back with him to his apartment. Just like he'd said. Where you wouldn't be allowed out for a time. Just like he'd said.
And as for your friend......
…. While you'd done as he'd wanted and got into the car on your own, it had taken you a little bit to actually do that.
Was that enough reason for him to kill them?
You cleared your throat in an effort to make sure the words came out as clear as they could.
“I'm sorry,” you said.
“For what?”
“For being..... Cruel to you,” you answered.
He hummed.
“I don't know how much I believe that, love,” he said, “it seems more likely you're only saying that as a way to try and appease me.”
….. There was no point in arguing, and you hung your head while biting your lip as you wondered if you'd just made a horrible mistake in saying anything else to him.
The car came to a stop at a light, and it was then that you felt his hand grasp yours once again. When he pulled your arm towards him, you didn't resist and allowed him to do what he wanted. Then his lips came into contact with your skin once more before he spoke.
“It's alright, love,” he told you, “we can get through this.”
“And with a little bit of time, I'm sure we can get to the point where you can apologize and actually mean it.”
You looked to him then, your eyes meeting his as he still held your hand to his lips.
And when you made eye contact, Chrollo simply smiled and kissed your hand once more.
1K notes · View notes
girlkisser13 · 3 months ago
Text
being married to emily prentiss would include
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
• emily is extremely empathetic and compassionate, and being married to her means having a partner who truly cares about your feelings and well-being. she makes a conscious effort to ensure you feel valued, loved, and understood.
• her love for adventure and her extensive knowledge of different cultures would mean you’d have a shared interest in traveling. from spontaneous weekend getaways to well-planned vacations, exploring new places together would be a common theme in your marriage.
• after a rough case, emily often comes home late at night feeling emotionally drained. you’d be there to comfort her, perhaps by listening to her talk about her day, offering cuddles, or just being there in silence. knowing you’re there for her would make all the difference.
• despite the seriousness of her job, emily has a great sense of humor. your marriage would be full of inside jokes, playful teasing, and laughter. she loves to see you smile, and her witty comments would often bring a lightheartedness to even the most stressful days.
• the two of you are cat moms.
• open and honest communication would be a cornerstone of your marriage. emily would always be upfront about her feelings, and she’d expect the same from you. she values honesty and would work through any problems with patience and understanding.
• despite her love for adventure, emily also appreciates quiet nights at home. you’d spend many evenings wrapped up in a blanket, binge-watching your favorite tv shows or movies, with takeout food spread out in front of you. these simple moments would be some of her favorites.
• emily is known for her strength, but with you, she’d feel safe showing her vulnerable side. whether she’s grappling with self-doubt or stress from a particularly harrowing case, she’d confide in you, knowing you won’t judge her.
• you’re always concerned about her whenever she’s out on a case, and she’s always concerned about leaving you on your own because she knows what kind of people are out there.
• emily enjoys socializing and would love hosting friends and family at your home. whether it’s a dinner party, a holiday celebration, or just a casual get-together, she’d enjoy planning these events and seeing everyone come together.
• no relationship is without its disagreements, but with emily, conflicts are always handled with maturity. she’s used to managing high-pressure situations, so she’d approach any arguments calmly, ensuring that communication is clear and that both of you feel heard and respected.
• emily knows how crucial it is to balance work and personal life. even though her job can be all-consuming, she’d make a conscious effort to prioritize your relationship, setting aside time for just the two of you. whether it’s a weekly date night or a quiet morning together, she’d cherish these moments.
• as a profiler, emily is very observant and attentive, often picking up on the little things you like or want. she’d surprise you with thoughtful gifts that show how well she knows you, from a book by your favorite author to a memento from a special place you once visited together.
• the two of you love supporting local businesses, you’ve always thought that people should support the locals and it was a nice thing to do together. shopping is always fun when it’s you and emily.
• emily buys you things ALL THE TIME. when you mention wanting to go to a restaurant, you end up going the next night. if you mention a new book release, she either marks it on her calendar to buy it for you on release day or preorders it.
• you guys love trying new alcoholic drinks together. if the team ever wanted to try a new one, they’d come to your house first because you’d likely have it.
• you two have built a remarkable life together, filled with ease, comfort, security, and love. it’s something you wouldn’t trade for anything in the world. <33
262 notes · View notes
thriftedtchotchkes · 1 year ago
Text
the way we fight
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
summary: you and joel love taking your frustrations out on each other—in more ways than one
warnings: 18+ MDNI, language, drug use, canon-typical violence, slight spoilers for minor tlou 2 cutscene, jackson era, enemies to lovers, undefined age gap, sloooow buildup, smut, grinding, rough oral (male & female receiving)
word count: 6.7k
Tumblr media
a/n: no idea how this got so long, but here we are! generally my fics are based on song lyrics, so this one goes out to my girl ari and social house. this honestly took a while to wrap my brain around and idk how the end got so filthy but alas, i really hope y'all enjoy! as always, thoughts and feedback are always appreciated 💕
Tumblr media
It’s always an argument with him. He’s just so stubborn. Actually, Joel Miller might be the most stubborn man you’ve ever met. There’s never any room for disagreement or discussion with him—it’s his way or the highway. Half the time, you don’t even know what you’re fighting about, hurling callous, empty words at each other as if they don’t hurt. Immensely.
Maybe you really do genuinely hate each other. Or maybe it’s just for the fun of it.
It’s been like this for as long as you’ve known him, which, in hindsight, hasn’t even been that long. Probably a year? Year and a half? In all that time, you’ve never managed to crack his tough exterior and, as far as you know, no one else has, either.
The only things anyone knows for sure are that he’s Tommy Miller’s older brother and he’s got a daughter named Ellie. He hasn’t made a lot of friends here and it’s not hard to see why. He’s mean in a surly old man kind of way and rarely has anything nice to say to anyone—if he says anything at all.
Yet, somehow you still find yourself spending the majority of your time with him. It’s not something you do by choice. It’s a forced proximity thing.
You can’t tell if Tommy schedules you for patrols together because you’re the only one who hasn’t kicked up a stink about it or if he just thinks it’s funny to watch you both squirm. Most of the town thinks it’s hilarious, so you can only guess it’s the latter.
During your first few outings together, Joel wouldn’t talk to you unless it was absolutely necessary, and, even then, all you’d get was a grunt or some grumbled instructions. The silence got old pretty quickly. It wasn’t until you made your first mistake out in the field that he finally started communicating. Maybe a little louder than you’d hoped.
Now, Joel will pick a fight anywhere, usually over the dumbest shit. But his bark is worse than his bite—most of the time, at least.
On his worst days, his anger is explosive and it seems like he takes it out exclusively on you. It’s honestly a little ridiculous that you haven’t just asked Tommy to take you off his patrols already, but there’s a part of you that’ll never admit you actually kind of like your dynamic.
Not a lot happens in Jackson—it’s well-protected and even the community drama gets a little stale. Joel might be a dick, but he keeps things interesting, keeps you on your toes.
And it’s hard to ignore the fire in his eyes that makes you think he likes it just as much as you do.
Tumblr media
It’s fucking freezing out and you haven’t even left for patrol yet before Joel’s muttering something condescending under his breath. Surprise, surprise—he’s in a bad mood and about to make it your problem. You throw him an unimpressed look over your shoulder, the best you can muster this early in the morning, and continue to saddle your horse.
“You wanna say that a little louder, Miller?”
He looks tired and annoyed and, god, you haven’t been awake nearly long enough for this shit. Today’s going to be trying enough as it is. You were assigned one of the longer routes and the clouds are already dark with the promise of rain or worse.
There are a few other patrol groups nearby gearing up to leave and their preparations suddenly slow, eyes darting between the two of you as if they can sense the impending argument. You barely notice their loitering, the small crowd inching forward to not-so-subtly eavesdrop.
“No, really, I’d love to hear to hear what you have to say,” you taunt him, hands settling on your hips. “Y’know, it’s really not like you to keep things to yourself. You sure you’re feeling alright today, old man?”
“Feelin’ just fine, sweetheart,” he grits through his teeth, rolling his eyes. “Just hurry your ass up so we can get this over and done with. I’m not tryin’ to spend any more time with ya than I have to.”
You quirk an eyebrow. Sweetheart? That’s a new one. It sounded sarcastic as hell and a little patronizing but, still, that’s not something Joel’s ever called you before. Useless and annoying, sure, but never sweetheart.
Your stomach swoops, but you force yourself to ignore it; that’s not even remotely something you want to analyze today.
“Uh, yeah…whatever,” you eye him strangely, and he abruptly looks away, shifting his focus back to checking his saddlebags. It’s like he’s purposefully avoiding your gaze, and it’s weird. He’s acting so fucking weird today.
Sparing him one last glance, you throw a leg over your horse and start toward the gate at a slow trot. You don’t bother waiting for him to catch up.
“What’s our first checkpoint?” you call over your shoulder, but he’s somehow already right behind you, his horse falling in line with yours.
“You should already know that,” Joel sighs, brow furrowed in what you can only assume is irritation. Oh, here it comes—the inevitable lecture. He does this every single time you're on patrol, whether you’ve done something wrong or not. You must’ve really pissed him off if you’re hearing it this early.
Except—he’s not berating you. Instead, he pulls a map out of his backpack. “Alright, look,” he says, leaning in closer so you can see. “This is us right here, and—,” his index finger traces a route from Jackson, winding along a road that passes through a small neighborhood, and lands on your first stop, located a few side streets off a main road, “—we should end up here in about an hour if the weather holds up.”
Nodding, you look up at him. You hadn't realized how close his face had gotten to yours, and your lips part around an involuntary gasp. His eyes drop to your mouth for a second too long before he pulls away, folding up his map and tucking it back into his pack.
You try to convince yourself that you imagined it, that Joel Miller would never intentionally look at your lips like he wants to kiss you, but you can still feel his warm breath on your skin and it’s affecting you more than you want to admit.
This is…not at all like your normal dynamic and it’s throwing you off. Joel hasn’t raised his voice once today and, at most, he’s only made a few snide remarks that weren’t nearly as bad as they usually are.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” you breathe out, creating a tiny puff of condensation in the air. “It doesn’t even feel like it's cold enough to snow, anyway. The worst we’ll probably get is some rain and we’ve ridden in way worse than that.”
All you get in response is a low grunt, and then he’s lifting the reins, leading his horse in the direction of your first checkpoint. You sigh. Guess you’re back to square one. You never thought you’d miss your spats, and can’t help but wonder what the hell happened to make him change his behavior so radically.
“Seriously, though, are you okay? You’re, like, really quiet today,” you prod, and his whole body tenses. He turns to you, expression angry, and it sends a shiver down your spine. There he is.
“Didn’t I already fuckin’ tell you I’m fine? What, you suddenly lose the ability to hear or somethin’?” He shakes his head in annoyance, and you’re glad he’s not looking at you anymore because you can’t suppress the grin that spreads across your face.
“This girl, I swear,” you hear him mutter as he trots away.
Tumblr media
You don’t say anything to each other for the rest of the ride to the checkpoint. The crumbling attorney's office is basically the same as you remember from the last time you were here. It’s old, obviously, and musty, but it’s stocked with random provisions, like food and ammo, so patrol crews can replenish their supplies before heading out to their next destination.
There’s also a killer view of Jackson from one of the windows, and you get distracted looking out at the lights and mountains in the distance. It’s starting to flurry, so you drop your backpack on the floor and stick both hands out to catch some of the snowflakes in your palms. So much for rain.
“You dilly dallyin’ again? Just sign the logbook already so we can move the fuck on,” Joel’s voice startles you out of your reverie. Huffing, you turn away from the window, looking for the pen that’s supposed to be next to the notebook, but it’s nowhere to be found.
“You know what, asshole, you could’ve just as easily signed the damn thing yourself. You were there too, or are you getting forgetful in your old age?” you shoot back as you hunch down, getting on your hands and knees to search under the desk. You hear him scoff behind you.
You spot the pen towards the back, because of course it rolled that far, and bend down so you can reach out a little farther. Your fingers brush one end and then you’ve got it, sitting back up with your prize in hand. Looking over your shoulder, you just barely catch Joel’s eyes darting away from where you were a moment ago, basically puppy-posing on the floor. That’s…suspicious.
“The fuck? Were you just staring at my ass?” you ask incredulously. There’s no goddamn way. He snorts, arms crossed with an uncharacteristic smirk on his face, and you raise an eyebrow at him.
“You wish, sweetheart,” he says condescendingly, and there it is again. That fucking word. So, he’s calling you pet names and staring at your ass now? There’s something seriously off about him today and you want to know what his deal is.
“You wanna tell me why you keep calling me that? You’ve been acting weird as fuck all day and it’s giving me whiplash,” you glower at him, taking a seat at the edge of the desk and forgetting all about the logbook. He shrugs.
“Dunno what you’re talkin’ about,” he says simply, and you squint at him.
“Seriously, Joel? You've called me sweetheart twice today and now you’re checking me out,” you hop off the desk and walk over to where he’s leaning against the wall. “If I didn’t know any better…,” you glance down at his lips, moving closer, “I’d say you were flirting with me."
Well, that made him angry. "Fuck you,” he growls in your face, and his lips are soft where they accidentally graze your cupid's bow. He’s trembling now, fists clenched at his sides, and you think he’s about to push you away when he grabs you by the hips and shoves you against the wall. Your head lolls back and you laugh cruelly.
“Yeah, Joel,” you roll your hips into his and he grits his teeth, tightening his grip. “I think that’s exactly what you wanna do.”
But before you can go any further, there’s a crash just outside the door accompanied by a familiar sound that turns your blood to ice.
It’s unmistakable. The clicking, guttural and stuttered, is followed by a high-pitched shriek that echoes throughout the small space, and you both freeze. You look up at Joel, terrified, and he raises a finger to his lips, eyes telling you to be quiet or else.
There’s no way either of you can unholster your guns—and reload, in your case—without alerting it to your position. Joel reaches for the hunting knife strapped to his thigh, and you move to do the same, only to realize it isn't there.
Fuck, it has to be somewhere. Probably in one of the dozen random holsters you have attached to you right now.
Frantic, you pat at your sides and legs—anywhere it could be—as your panicked intakes of breath gradually increase in volume. A hand slaps over your mouth, and suddenly Joel is crushing your body against the wall, halting your movements.
"Quit," he whispers harshly, lips brushing the shell of your ear, and you nod quickly.
The creature abruptly changes course, jerking toward the open window, and that’s when you notice something familiar by its feet. It's—fuck, it's your backpack. And your knife is gleaming from where it sits, nestled in one of the side pockets.
Stupid, that was so stupid. If, by some miracle, this thing doesn't kill you, there’s no doubt Joel will once he realizes your mistake. His hand drops from your mouth and he glances back over his shoulder at the clicker, gripping his knife a little tighter.
He looks resolute, and it dawns on you that he’s about to make a move. It takes everything you’ve got not to grab onto his coat and pull him back to you as he slowly shifts away, but then something else stops him in his tracks.
Another screech rings out from the other side of the room, and now you know you’re fucked. There’s only one option left now. Either you run, or you get torn apart. He reaches down to take your hand in his, warring emotions of anger and fear in his eyes as he looks into yours, and squeezes; it’s now or never.
The path to the doorway you came through is somehow miraculously clear, and Joel takes off at a sprint, dragging you with him but, to his horror, you decide to do yet another stupid thing.
For reasons you can’t explain, you find yourself ripping your hand out of his, swerving to snatch your backpack from where it lies just a few feet from the clicker.
Joel is yelling, or at least you think he is, and you vaguely feel his blunt nails scratch the back of your hand as he reaches out to stop you, but he can’t. You’re moving on autopilot, can barely register your body moving at all, until your fingertips skim the strap of your pack and the clicker is shrieking in your face.
You don’t think you’ve ever been this close to one before, even dead, and it’s worse than you could’ve ever imagined. The world freezes for a moment and you freeze with it, unable to move or look away from the fungus erupting from its skull, teeth gnashing inches away from your throat.
And then you feel warmth—warm, strong arms wrap around your waist and tug harder and harder until you’re back out in the cold. Joel spots his horse a short distance away, likely spooked by the commotion, but you can’t see much farther than that. What was a gentle flurry less than a half hour ago has become a violent blizzard, and you’re both getting pelted by ice that burns as it scrapes across your skin.
There’s one horse—just Joel’s horse—but there’s no time to think about the fate of your own before his hands are on your hips, lifting you up and into the saddle, and he’s climbing on in front of you.
He urges his horse forward and you’re off without so much as a glance behind you, galloping away from danger and down a street that you realize you actually recognize.
“Joel,” you squeeze his waist and he ignores you. He’s shaking and it’s definitely not just from the cold. You can feel the anger radiating off of him in waves and it’s warranted. You fucked up big time. “Joel, turn right,” you say a little louder, and he’s still not listening. “Turn right! There’s a library up ahead, you have to turn now!”
He growls, and you think he’s purposely going to miss the turn until he’s yanking the reins to the right, nearly throwing you both off the horse.
“You better know what the fuck you’re doin’,” he all but shouts back, and you wrap your arms around his waist a little tighter.
“It’s safe!” you yell, struggling to speak loud enough for him to hear you over the wind. “Ellie’s been there before, loads of times, and she says it’s safe. “
And that’s all it takes to convince him.
Tumblr media
The library’s completely boarded up and, with the wind howling against your backs, it takes more than a few hard tugs to yank enough of them off to get inside the lobby with Joel’s horse.
He hands you the reins before moving into the next room, crouching along the rows of aging books and knocked-over bookcases, and you peek in, watching him anxiously. Cracked bricks litter the ground, and he steps over a few as he crouches into place behind a broken book cart.
He picks one up and then shoots you a look, eyebrows lifting pointedly, and you realize he wants you to get back into the lobby, out of sight. You duck behind the wall, placing a soothing hand on his horse right as you hear the sound of the brick shattering against the ground, and wait. A few agonizing seconds pass before you hear him throw one more a little farther out, just to be sure.
When nothing startles or jumps out, Joel whistles and you know that’s your cue to come out from your hiding spot. Normally, that would piss you off immensely, him whistling for you like you’re a fucking animal, but you can’t find it in yourself to care right now.
You’re exhausted now that the adrenaline’s wearing off, and the only thing you want to do is curl up into one of the torn-up chairs in the corner and pass out until morning. But that’s not what Joel has in mind.
“Y’think you’re off the hook for the shit you pulled earlier?”
You sigh, head tipping back and thumping against the bookcase behind you. “Do we have to do this right now? Joel, I’m tired and hungry, and fucking cold, and I really don’t have the energy.”
“Seriously? Sure looked like ya had the energy when you were runnin’ straight into that clicker’s mouth,” he scowls, reaching down to grab something next to the book cart and throwing it at your feet. “Thought ya might want this back since you apparently decided it was worth more than your life.”
You inhale sharply through your nose, eyebrows pinching together. Joel…he—
It's your backpack.
You were so sure it got left behind when he saved you from that clicker and yet, there it is. You lean over to pick it up, but Joel kicks it out of reach before you get the chance. He looks livid and now, you realize, you’re about to get that lecture you dodged earlier tenfold.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"Me? I'm not the one having an identity crisis! You’ve been nothing but distracting all damn day,” you scoff bitterly. “None of this would've happened if you hadn't had a complete personality makeover overnight.”
You can’t believe he…is he serious? There’s no way you’re taking the fall for this, not all of it. Yeah, you fucked up with the backpack, but Joel isn't entirely blameless, either. If you hadn’t been fighting again, you would’ve just signed the stupid logbook and moved on like you were supposed to.
"Yeah, alright, sweetheart. It's my fault you almost got us both killed. Maybe you’re forgettin’ I saved your goddamn life back there, somethin' I wouldn't have had to do if you hadn't gone and done something so fuckin’ stupid."
Sweetheart.
"Stop calling me that! I…fuck, Joel, I just don't get you. I get it—I know I fucked up, but…,” your voice cracks and you can feel your lower lip wobbling, but you can’t let yourself cry. That would only prove to Joel what he already knows—you’re weak. “I’m sorry, okay? What more do you want from me?”
He chuckles mirthlessly. “You really wanna know what I want from ya?” He crowds your space, leaning in slightly. His head tilts like he's going to kiss you, and your breath hitches. “I want ya to get your shit together and stop makin’ unnecessary mistakes,” he says cruelly instead.
Your jaw drops.
"No, you know what? Fuck this,” you seethe. “When we get back to Jackson, I’m telling Tommy to never put me on your patrols again. I can’t do this anymore.”
“Think I give a shit about that? Go ahead, you’d be doin’ me a favor!” he yells at your back as you storm away, and you flip him off over your shoulder. Behind you, he sighs heavily, sounding as worn out and frustrated as you feel.
What a load of bullshit. You don't deserve to be treated like this. There's a stark difference between the inconsequential arguments you normally have and whatever the hell that was.
And the worst part? It hurts so much more than you expected it to. Leave it to you to get attached to the asshole whose personal mission it is to make you miserable. This whole thing was fun while it lasted, but you meant what you said. You and Joel, it’s over.
You exhale wetly, tears still threatening to fall as you leave him behind in what the yellowing signs tell you is the romance section. Well, isn’t that ironic.
You quickly realize navigating the library in the dark is more difficult than you anticipated, even with your flashlight. Not even ten steps away from where you started, you trip over something protruding from the ground and almost land flat on your face.
Joel comes running over as you let out a frustrated noise and push yourself up onto your knees. His knife is at the ready like he was expecting danger but, no, it’s just you humiliating yourself even further. He lets out a relieved sigh, holstering his knife, but then just stands there glaring down at you.
“I’m fine, by the way,” you wave a hand from the ground. He shakes his head, reaching down to help you up, and his hand feels so nice in yours—big, strong, and calloused.
You curse yourself for still thinking about him like that, like anything at all, but you can't help it. And when his hand drops yours, it feels distinctly cold and empty.
Shaking it off, you aim your flashlight at the offending spot on the floor. “What is that, anyway?” you ask Joel as he crouches down to brush away some of the dirt and debris.
“A handle,” he mumbles, pulling out his knife again and digging it into a crack in the floor, tracing around what looks like…a door?
“Is that a trapdoor?” You lean over his shoulder to get a better look. He looks back at you and nods, looking a little less angry and a lot more concerned. “Well, should we check it out?”
Instead of answering you, he wrenches the door open and shines his flashlight into the opening. There’s a ladder leading down and you can hear something rumbling below that sounds like a generator.
“Stay here,” he eyes you sternly as he begins his descent down the ladder.
“Uh, yeah, that’s not happening,” you scoff, following him. The ladder’s longer than you expected, and once your feet touch the ground, you reach out to run your hands along the wall, searching for a light switch.
A few moments later, your fingers come across something vaguely switch-like and you flip it, a warm glow filling the room, emanating from about a dozen heat lamps hanging from the ceiling. Your eyes adjust and—
“No fucking way.”
Joel is silent beside you, and you glance over, his expression just as stunned as yours is. You step closer. “Is that…?”
“Weed,” he breathes out.
Tumblr media
You didn’t mean to get this high. Really, you didn’t. But you're in a fucking grow room hidden beneath a library in some tiny, backwater town, and you almost just died. So really, what reason was there not to?
The blizzard’s still going strong outside and, at the very least, it’s nice and warm down here. There's also the added bonus of something fun to do while you wait it out.
…Yeahhh, so you might’ve found a mason jar full of already rolled joints between some couch cushions, literally just sitting there for the taking. What were you supposed to do? Not smoke them?
But what surprises you even more than the pot itself is that Joel is smoking it, too.
It’s cute how he coughs after every drag, eyes watering as you pass a joint back and forth. The air is thick with smoke and a strange tension that neither of you can really describe, but you’re not fighting anymore. Not yet, at least.
The couch you're sitting on is cozy and less tattered than the chairs upstairs, so you settle there for the night, sitting closer than you ever willingly have before. Enough time has passed that you’re beginning to realize neither of you plans on moving, either. That you’re actually enjoying each other’s company.
The warmth of him seeps pleasantly through your clothes, and he feels so solid and real against you. Unconsciously, you melt into his side, your fuzzy brain chemicals urging you to feel more, more of him, and he tenses only for a moment before lifting an arm to rest behind you on the back of the couch.
It's strange how readily he's accepting your touch now. With each drag, you feel a little braver and press more of your body into his, draping your legs across his lap and nesting your head in the crook of his neck. He goes boneless when you mouth damply at the skin just below his jaw, his throat rumbling under your lips as he lets out a ragged breath.
You’ve both loosened up so much since earlier. It’s an easy, comfortable sort of peace you’ve found down here, even after the horrors you experienced earlier in the day. Part of you wishes it could always be like this with Joel but, then again, that just wouldn’t be you and Joel.
Your relationship thrives on the way you fight, almost like you can’t exist together without the promise of battle. So, when the high wears off and the world feels less lazy and more dire, you’ll both remember with sharp clarity that you hate each other. The memories will fade away and the war will continue. That’s just how it is.
It’s a little sad when you think about it, but for at least a little while longer, you’ll still have this version of you and Joel. You’ll enjoy the way he feels pressed up against your body; the way he feels pliant and suggestible under your lips.
And you’ll ask the question that’s been eating away at you all day because right now, you’re positive your lips can convince him to do anything.
“Tell me why you keep calling me sweetheart,” you murmur against his skin. He freezes, clearly not expecting you to bring it up again. You lift the blunt to his lips and encourage him to inhale to calm his nerves. The smoke plumes from his nose like a dragon as he exhales, and you're enraptured by the way it swirls through the air before dissipating. He braces a hand on your thigh before responding.
"Well, I…uh—," he mumbles, his cheeks turning a deep shade of burgundy, and you can’t resist reaching out to stroke the heated skin with your fingertips. He breathes shakily as he continues, "I—had a dream about ya last night, and…you, uh—you were…"
He cuts himself off, and your mind goes fuzzy for a moment as you let that little bit of information sink in. So, Joel was dreaming about you last night…and now, he’s treating you so much differently. Calling you pet names, eyeing you up, touching you. It all makes sense—but now you need him to tell you everything.
"What was I doing in your dream, Joel?"
He meets your gaze, looking flustered and a little ashamed, and it's a far cry from the man who was yelling at you not even an hour or two ago.
"You, uh," he clears his throat, still hesitating. You bite your bottom lip in anticipation, sucking it wetly into your mouth, and his eyes darken. He lifts a thumb to your mouth, tugging your lip down just slightly, and you can see the moment his apprehension disappears. "You were on your knees for me," he murmurs. "Doin' such a good job, too, workin' that pretty mouth of yours."
You inhale sharply and his thumb drops, but his eyes never leave your lips. Gingerly, you pluck the joint still burning between his fingers and take one last deep drag before flicking the rest to the side and crashing your lips onto his.
God, they feel exactly like you thought they would, soft and a little chapped from the cold, but so fucking eager against yours. You hold his face in your hands, rubbing your thumbs along the roughness of his beard, and he groans as you exhale into his mouth, tasting the smoke on your tongue.
Sighing, you lean back slowly, heavy-lidded eyes roving over his face to take in his kiss-swollen lips and that beautiful burgundy flush. He's so pretty, and you can’t help but run your fingers through his thick, graying hair as he pants heavily below you.
You need to feel more of him, all of him, so you climb into his lap, straddling his hips and grinding down against where he's already straining in his pants. He grips you tighter in response, working you steadily across his hardening cock.
"Keep going,” you moan breathily. You're already so wet, and heat blooms in your belly every time your clit grazes the seam of his jeans. It's a foggy, hazy pleasure, what you feel when he speaks, and you're addicted to it. “Keep telling me about your dream—a-about my mouth…I wanna hear more.“
You feel rather than hear him growl low in his throat as he ducks his head down to your neck, sucking and biting bruises into your skin.
“Your mouth…so fuckin’ wet—s-soft and tight around my cock,” he sucks hard under your jaw, and you gasp. “Takin’ me all the way down, like I always knew you could.”
Your breath hitches, eyes rolling back. The thought of him dreaming about his cock down your throat makes your cunt pulse, and now you're positive you're soaking through his pants.
You bet he thinks about it when you're on patrol together, too—that when you're fighting like you've both got something to prove, he's thinking about shutting you up with his cock. Fucking your mouth to show you that what he says goes.
"M-more, Joel…ngh, fuck, I need more," you reach down to shove his shirt up so you can feel him, his stomach flexing and unflexing under your palms. He starts to buck into your clothed pussy faster, like he's fucking you through the fabric, and you whine pathetically as he tugs hard on your hair, yanking your head to the side.
"S’alright, n-needy girl, 'm gonna tell you exactly how I was fuckin' that sweet mouth of yours last night…h-how you were—," he groans raggedly in your ear, voice cracking, and you swear you can feel his heartbeat racing between your legs. "…c-chokin' and gaggin' around my cock while I was cummin' down your throat…"
He keeps giving you what you asked for, tells you all the filthy shit he wants to do to your mouth, and his hips start to stutter like he's bringing himself closer to orgasm with his own words. It would make a lot of sense—Joel's always loved the sound of his own voice, especially when it's directed at you.
But you can’t hear much of anything anymore aside from the sound of your own stuttered moaning, suddenly so, so close to hurtling over the edge with him. You’re sliding so easily over his cock now and you brace your hands on his shoulders as your thighs start to quake around his waist. He digs his fingers into the plush curve of your ass, pulling you down harder, but you squeeze his shoulders roughly to get his attention.
“Y-you—Joel, you can’t cum,” you whine into his neck, and he all but snarls in response. “No…no, no, no. Want you t-to fuck my mouth—you have to cum in my mouth—”
He abruptly yanks you off his lap, shoving you back onto the couch and wrenching your jeans and underwear down in two hard tugs.
You barely have time to let out a squeal before he buries his face in your cunt, honing in on your clit and sucking wetly. He flattens his tongue, circling once, twice, three times, and then you’re cumming with a loud exhale, gushing as you grind into his face.
Your pussy’s still pulsing, locking down around nothing, as you tug him off of you by his hair.
“Joel—jeans..o-off…now.” You help him push them down just enough to free his cock, and then your mouth is on him, sucking him down to the hilt.
His hips buck off the couch of their own accord and he groans pathetically as you gag around him. He’s petting your head and saying something raggedly above you, likely apologizing for hurting you, but it’s drowned out by the blood rushing in your ears.
Instead of pulling off to reassure him that you very much want him to keep gagging you, you guide his hands to bury themselves in your hair and squeeze his thigh, praying he gets the hint. His fingers tense against your scalp as he holds you in place and, yeah, he absolutely gets it.
Your head feels like it’s disconnecting from the rest of your body as he starts fucking into your mouth the way he was probably dreaming about last night. He’s just so fucking big, and you feel a weird sort of pride bloom in your chest at being able to take him like this.
Tears are streaming down your face from the effort and you’re drooling all over his lap but, fuck, if he wants to do this every time you patrol together, you’ll let him. You take back everything you said before—if Tommy ever takes you off Joel’s patrols, you’ll kill him.
His fingers start to tug harder, painfully at your hair and you can hear him moaning something above you, his words slurred and desperate.
“S-so fuckin’ good, sweetheart, you’re…ngh—fuckin’ perfect,” he grits through his teeth, breath hitching as you wrap your lips tighter around him, flattening your tongue along the underside of his length. “‘m gonna cum…fuck, fuck—need you t-to swallow it all, sweetheart… know you can do it…so goddamn good.”
Humming and swallowing around him, you reach up to cup his balls and he erupts, pumping thick cum into your mouth and down your throat. Deep groans are punched out of his chest with every spurt and you can feel his cock pulsing against your tongue.
There’s so much of it. You try your best to do what he asked, to be good and swallow everything, but it’s starting to leak out the corners of your mouth and down his cock. Slurping up as much as you can, you pull off with an audible pop and lick off the rest of the salty, white streaks remaining on his skin.
When your watery eyes finally meet his, he’s looking at you like maybe he really has been dreaming this whole time. He’s still a little dazed, from both the weed and the intense orgasm, and he reaches out to cradle your face in his hands almost as if to prove to himself that you’re real. It’s a surprisingly tender gesture that kind of makes your heart ache.
Your lips quirk up as you lean into his touch, aching to prolong the moment, and he leans forward to press a sweet kiss to them, mouth coaxing yours open to taste himself on your tongue. You whine softly as his tongue runs along your bottom lip, and then he pulls back, hauling you into his arms to lie back on the couch.
Tumblr media
Those heat lamps feel unbearable now. You're both hot and sweating, chests heaving from exertion, but you still refuse to separate from each other. Your brain’s feeling a lot less foggy, so you’re probably coming down from your high, which means Joel is, too. The realization sends a pang of worry through your chest like you expect him to suddenly come to and push you away, but he doesn’t.
Instead, he pulls your back to his chest, positioning your bodies more comfortably before murmuring fondly in your ear, "You’re somethin’ else, y’know that?”
You breathe out a sigh of relief. Maybe you’ll get to keep this after all—and without sacrificing everything that makes you and Joel, well…you and Joel. You twist around to shoot him an unimpressed look, but the burgeoning grin on your face betrays you.
“What, you’re just figuring that out? Took you long enough.”
He scoffs. “Listen, sweetheart—“ But you gasp, cutting him off before he can finish his sentence. No, way. How are you just putting two and two together now?
“Wait…oh my god, wait—is this why you keep calling me sweetheart? Because it's what you called me when I was blowing you in your sex dream?” You’re grinning so hard it hurts. How the fuck didn't you notice that earlier?
There was plenty of time to work it out when you were all but fucking on the couch for the past hour. But then…he didn’t actually start calling you sweetheart until he was cumming, and the realization makes your cunt throb. You file that information away for now, but make a mental note to come back to it later—hopefully back in Jackson with Joel.
…who’s still mumbling irritatedly into your shoulder. You tilt your head back to press your lips under his jaw, and you're quickly learning that kissing that particular spot turns him to jelly.
“You can keep calling me sweetheart,” you start, thinking over your next words carefully. “But I’ve got conditions.”
“Oh, she’s got demands now,” you can hear the dramatic eye roll in his voice. You suck a bruise into his skin to stop the back sass and it works spectacularly.
“Oh, shut up. It benefits you too, asshole,” you glare up at him before continuing. “I want your dick in my mouth every time we patrol from now on. And next time, you have to fuck me.”
His fingers dig into your sides, and you’re pretty sure you just felt his cock twitch against your ass.
“…Y-yeah, I, uh. I can do that,” he stutters, suddenly demure, and it dawns on you how much you like seeing all these different sides of Joel. He’s been mean and angry, shy and tender, and so fucking sexy all in the span of a single day. It's not something you ever would've expected from him.
You used to think he was just some grumpy old man and that his one personality trait was being an obnoxious jerk, but tonight you were proven very, very wrong.
You pull his arms tighter around you, let yourself get lost in the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your back, and hum contently. You’ll have to thank Ellie and her weed-grower friend later.
“Y’know, I almost thought you were gonna say no more fighting,” he says after a few seconds of silence. You look up at him incredulously, and he chuckles.
“Nah, where’s the fun in that?”
Tumblr media
thanks so much for reading! 🥰
1K notes · View notes
zweiginator · 5 months ago
Note
do u tbink reader and bsf!patrick would ever start hooking up but in like a fwb way? bc imagine….and wildly enough it’s HER who’s like ‘cant get attached’ blah blah blah. like it’s her being the one to make it clear that this doesn’t change anything, she’s completely platonic outside of it (well ok not really), she won’t think of them as dating even tho they practically are.
and it’s so obvious she thinks he’s not taking it seriously. assumes he’s going on dates. tries to not think ab it.
n eventually he just like loses it. points out how "it’s not fucking fair. you do all this shit to me, with me, and now you’re acting like i’m the crazy one for thinking we’re more than just fuck buddies? that’s all you wanna be? fuck off" and angry sex…..
NOT SURE JUST SOME THOUGHTS…
yes. youve seen patrick's ex girlfriends, how obsessed they still are with him. there is something so egregiously intoxicating about him--it scares you. truly knocks the wind out of you.
you didn't get it before you became friends with benefits. before you leapt over that line in the sand that had been toed over for year and years.
but that one night in september when patrick had just broken up with a girl, and you were feeling upset after yet another horrible date--you got it.
patrick comforted you that night. it felt selfish; you were upset about a guy you met maybe twice. he had just dumped a girl he thought he truly loved.
you brought up the idea.
"let's just be friends with benefits." you plead. the truth was that you were so curious about him. as he grew more and more and became a man instead of an immature little boy--you wanted to feel him.
"what are you talking about?" he didn't want to ruin your friendship. but thee truth was that he had broken up with his girlfriend because of a petty little disagreement. it was trivial, really. he told himself it was just pure incompatibility. but in reality, he resented her for not being more like you. nobody could be you--except for you.
patrick knew it would be complicated. for some reason, you figured it wouldn't be. patrick was always hooking up with and talking to new girls. it seemed like he had the no strings attached thing down pat.
patrick made love to you that night. that was the only way to describe it. slow, meaningful, deep thrusts, your legs wrapped around his waist. desparate for him to be closer.
his words were filthy. he spread your cunt open and cooed about how pretty it was. how it opened up just for him. how wet he had made you. so pretty. so perfect.
it made you cum. it made your nails dig and dig and dig into his back.
you understood how his exes turned obsessive. maybe not even turned.
so you vowed to never get too attached. to never ruin your friendship.
you never slept over at his place, and you never allowed him to stay the night at yours. no pillow talk or sweet nothings. no dates.
of course, these stipulations had loose definitions. and as best friends, it was inevitable to show appreciation to each other, to go out to an occasional nice dinner or impromptu lunch.
patrick was becoming more and more livid with you. you didn't know what had changed. he was more bossy in bed; he went from slow sessions of eating your pussy to slapping his cock on your tongue and commanding you: fucking suck on it.
of course, you liked it. you loved anything he did to you. but maybe you missed how sweet he used to be. you wouldn't admit to yourself why that was.
valentine's day was soon. and maybe patrick had assumed that you would be his date. he made reservations for you.
"patrick, what are you talking about? no, i'm not gonna be your valentine." you shake your head, taking his tennis rackets from him to shove in the backseat.
"what the fuck do you mean 'what am i talking about?'" patrick lowers his voice. "we've been fucking for like 6 months why are you acting like this?"
"exactly," you say. "we've been fucking. we haven't been dating. i told you this would be purely platonic when we started."
patrick scoffs, slamming the door. he's yelling at you now. "so you're just gonna act like i'm fucking crazy for thinking this is more than platonic when it is definitely more than platonic?" he forces the car into reverse, driving away angrily.
"you're mad because i'm keeping my word--no, our word."
"whatever." patrick spat. "you're full of fucking shit. acting like this hasn't been dating this whole fucking time. making me seem like a fucking idiot for thinking you liked me."
"i do like you-"
patrick seethes; the vein in his neck pulses as he parks the car. he's dropping you off at your apartment.
"get the fuck out. go home. this is over--all of it is."
you gather your things and get out of patrick's car. you have barely shut the door when he skids away. your breath is visible in the cold february air, but your body is hot, and stiff with anger and confusion.
you think he will break and call you first. but one week passes, and then valentine's day. and soon it's march and you haven't so much as seen patrick for almost a month.
it's stupid. you go to patrick's apartment. you look like a lost puppy dog.
he doesn't answer the door. you know he's home. his car is in the driveway, you hear music in his living room. maybe he's with another girl. maybe he really did move on.
you don't leave. it's freezing, and your jacket is light--it's not made for the dry cold that hurts at the end of winter.
patrick opens the door.
"what the fuck are you doing here?"
your lip wobbles.
"it's freezing out here what's your problem?"
patrick bullies you. he pulls you inside and wraps you in a blanket but sits on the opposite side of the couch. doesn't say a word.
you speak up; he cuts you off.
"i have nothing to say to you."
now you're begging. you're crying and the tears are stinging and you're on patrick's lap trying to get him to notice you.
"please pat, p-please. i miss you."
patrick grabs your jaw. he's stern. "this isn't how platonic friends act. this isn't how you fucking cry when you're just friends."
he's right.
you pull at his shirt. "please, i need you, i'll do anything. want you to be mine. i was so--stupid."
patrick is hard beneath you. he likes this.
"you're so fucking pathetic." he spits.
you get down on your knees in front of him.
"i'm so stupid."
"show me how much you want me." he pushes his sweatpants off; he's wearing no underwear. and his cock looks bigger. just as angry as he is.
you grab him into your hands and spit on his cock, moaning as you kiss it all over. lick him from his balls to the weeping head of his cock. suckling on him and hallowing your cheeks. saying im sorry im sorry im sorry.
he slaps his cock on your face. tells you you should be.
you feel how he pulses in your mouth; he groans as he pushes your face into his balls. you suck them into your mouth. your eyes water and your pussy drools for him.
patrick pulls you up. puts you on top of him. pushes your cunt onto his throbbing cock until you're gasping. god he's big and he's fucking relentless. you're not even moving and he's fucking up into you so hard you feel like you have whiplash.
but god, it feels so good. patrick pulls your hair, palms your ass, slaps your face. he rubs your clit and laughs at you. laughs at how much you're moaning. how easy you are.
"are you fucking sorry?" he asks. his balls slap against your ass.
you can barely get a word out.
"yes--i'm so sorry."
"tell me you love me." he wipes a tear from your eye. "tell me you fucking love me."
you nod, cumming right then. coating his cock in your slick, milking him.
"i love you patrick. love you so much. i'll never leave you again."
patrick cums too.
343 notes · View notes
eggluverz · 1 year ago
Text
A STARE WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS
Tumblr media Tumblr media
PAIRING. dan feng x gn!reader
WORD COUNT. 1.4k
SUMMARY. you and dan feng were just friends. close comrades who challenged each other. but you were starting to suspect that just friends don't stare at each other like this...
NOTE: dan feng on the brain !!!! i was looking thru some writing prompts and there was a list of friends to lovers that inspired meeee :> i hope y'all enjoy this lil dan feng drabble!! :o ~sof
Tumblr media
It wasn’t always easy being a friend of the esteemed High Cloud Quintet, but it sure was fun. In a group of warriors and leaders, some of your morals seemed to go against the grain. With your more pacifist approach, you preferred healing and mediating disagreements rather than resorting to a clash of the swords.
Still, you were not young with folly such as before. You understood there was a time and place for everything and, sometimes, war was inevitable in this world. You could only sigh to yourself, wishing it weren’t so.
But while battles waged on, you at least wanted to help those wounded trying to fight for what was right—no matter how misguided you thought their approach was.
Dan Feng was someone you chose to confide in. The great warrior, the Imbibitor Lunae, somehow empathized with your inner conflicts more than you would have expected him to. He may have been a cutthroat, fearless leader, but he was also gentle and thoughtful, pondering whether or not the ends truly justified the means in between brutal battles. 
The people he led could never see that ever-questioning side of him. Nor could he ever find the vulnerability to show them. That was something he reserved only for the closest of friends. 
That was something he reserved only for you. 
You let out a deep breath after a long day of work, smiling only to greet Dan Feng who had asked you to meet up with him over dinner.
“Like a date,” Baiheng sang with a grin when you had told her the previous day.
Your cheeks flushed at the memory. Two friends could certainly partake in evening consumption of sustenance together without it being a date, you had reminded her. And yourself. 
“Sure, but do just friends stare into each other’s eyes for seconds too long like you two do?”
With a small laugh and a shake of your head, you brought yourself back to present time with Dan Feng.
“Good evening,” you greeted with a wave. “Have you been waiting long?”
“I have been left alone here all day waiting for your arrival,” he jested with a dramatic sigh, one corner of his mouth tilting upwards to let you know he was only joking.
“Of course,” you played along, “I do not doubt that the great Imbibitor Lunae has plenty of time to spare waiting about.”
“For you? Most certainly.” 
You fought a grin off your face at his kindness. Dan Feng truly was a good person, always putting his friends first. For a moment, you wondered how much more thoughtful he would be towards a partner—towards someone he had romantic feelings for. But you did not allow yourself to entertain those thoughts for too long. After all, you had food to eat. 
“I requested your favorite dish,” he said as the meal came to your table. Establishments in which private outdoor dining was an accommodation were not common in your area, so you and Dan Feng often frequented the one closest to you. It was no strange feat for him to commit your favorite dish to memory. “I hope I did not overstep, but it was getting dark out and I know you tend to grow rather famished at this hour.”
You smiled as the scent of the food in front of you wafted through the air, causing your stomach to grumble quietly. “I appreciate your preparation, Dan Feng. You aren’t overstepping in the slightest.”
In fact, you quite liked that Dan Feng went out of his way to ensure you would have food to eat by the time you arrived for dinner. He was right— You were running late today and you were rather peckish by the time you had arrived. It was a simple act of kindness, and you were grateful for it. 
Dan Feng really was nice to his friends. 
If you did not have a good head on your shoulders, you might have let your emotions confuse the situation and misread his intentions towards you. He simply was a good friend to you and the High Cloud Quintet, though in moments of delusion you felt yourself imagining more. 
Especially moments of delusion fueled by the unnerving stare on his face directed right at you. Unnerving in a positive sense, of course. 
Unnerving in a way of not being able to understand the depth of emotions behind those bright eyes of his. Unnerving enough to pique your curiosity and want to learn just what that stare meant. 
The certain stare he was giving you right now. 
Was he looking at you like a confidant? A scholar to share his pacifist literature with? A friend? A lover? 
If Dan Feng noticed your inner turmoil, all he did was smile. It was a smile that said he knew exactly what was running through your mind. His piercing gaze stayed locked on yours as he tilted his head and took a sip of tea. 
Unable to help yourself, you blurted, “Do you intend to look at me in such a way?”
An expression of delighted amusement formed on his face before he regained his stoic composure. “In what manner are you referring to, my dear?”
Your heart stirred in confusion at his affectionate words. This High Elder truly had a disarming effect on you.
“Such as how you are staring at me right now!” you cried, feeling rather indignant. “It is how you’ve been staring at me for the past few months, even. It— It bewilders me!”
“And how, exactly, am I staring at you?” he pushed, a confident smile on his lips as he awaited your answer. 
“You are staring at me…as if you want me.”
His eyes widened for a brief moment, like he was shocked you gave in to his teasing and prodding this time. 
“You keep staring at me like that, and treating me in a special manner… You should be careful, Dan Feng,” you said with a sigh, slowly bringing your utensils to your mouth. Before biting, you stated, “You could confuse even the most refined of individuals that way, are you aware?”
He studied you before asking, “As an esteemed and refined Vidyadhara yourself, what do you find confusing?”
“Whether I am reading your intentions incorrectly or not,” you said, no longer bothering to hide you frustration. 
“It is not my desire to confuse you,” promised Dan Feng, a genuine look on his face as you finally met his gaze again. “For that, I apologize sincerely.”
Your stomach churned in dejected understanding. “Thank you for the apologize. It is okay.”
Perhaps you shouldn’t have gotten ahead of yourself and confused his kindness for interest. You shoved the food around on your plate, trying to downplay your disappointment that Dan Feng did not desire you after all.
At your lackluster response, he cleared his throat. He looked at your downcast expression and frowned. “Perhaps I am not making myself clear enough. Believe me, you are certainly not misinterpreting my intentions.”
Your eyes widened at his clarification. “Meaning…?”
“I do want you.” Dan Feng set his teacup down with a conspiratorial glint in his eye. “I admire your strength and your intellect. Your desire for peace and your willingness to do what is right. You are nuanced and complex and, at times, even oblivious,” he smiled at the thought of you misunderstanding his initial confession, “and you are my close friend I have found myself getting more and more drawn to.”
Giggles bubbled up from inside you, more so in excitement than in amusement. If it weren’t unbecoming of an unpartnered Vidyadhara to show public displays of affection, you would have ran over to Dan Feng and given him a hug by now. 
“I want you, too, Dan Feng,” is what you said instead. “You are cunning and sharp, yet understanding and gentle. Your thoughtfulness is inspiring and I have never met anyone more loyal than you.” 
The apples of his cheeks tinged the lightest pink you had ever seen, and you fought the urge to continuously shower him with more compliments.
“You’re the only one I could confide my potentially treasonous thoughts in,” you laughed while he nodded with amusement. Your gaze softened as your tone grew more serious. “You are one of my best friends, but I can envision a road in which we are more than that, even— Lovers.”
If he was surprised at all, he did not show it. 
“That is the path I would prefer to take.” Dan Feng extended his hand from across the table as if it were a mere offering to your boundless grace. “Do you desire to take it with me?”
“With you?” you repeated, slipping your hand into his with a smile. “Most certainly.”
1K notes · View notes
lily-fics-11 · 7 months ago
Text
Maybe I Just Like Seeing You Fired Up (Ellie Williams, TLOU)
Tumblr media
This is my first time writing Ellie so I hope you like it. Lmk what you think:)
Inspired by a prompt by @remy-lupin
CW: Not beta read, profanities, sexual undertones, mention of injury, pet names
You rarely got assigned to patrol with Ellie, which was no coincidence. The two of you have a tendency to butt heads. You by no means hate, or even dislike her, you just operate in different ways. Your social circles didn’t overlap, she was a little younger than you. So the only time you had ever spent with her was on patrol, where disagreements were consistent. It only got worse over time. After many others had observed your bickering, the two of you stopped being scheduled together. 
Unfortunately, a few minor injuries had been sustained when an unexpected storm rolled in during a scouting trip yesterday. You hadn’t been there, and neither had Ellie. You were more than willing to pick up the extra shift that they asked you to. 
After emerging into a clearing from some densely packed trees, you look over at Ellie. Her toned arms are crossed and you can tell by the look on her face that she is also pondering what move to make. You run a hand through your hair in frustration, knowing that this would most likely cause the first of many disagreements. 
Ellie is the first to share her thoughts. “That hill looks pretty rocky, we should probably dismount and check how stable the terrain is before trying to take the horses over it.”
Not what you were thinking, but you had been begged to play nice.
You nod at her, “we can do that.”
“Oh really?” Ellie asks smugly.
You dismount your horse and straighten up your posture. “That’s why I said it.”
“I’m just surprised.” Ellie snickers.
You put your hands on your hips. “This shouldn’t take more than a few hours, and we are both adults. I’m sure we can manage to cooperate knowing we shouldn’t have to do this again any time soon.”
Ellie hops off her horse. “I actually agree with you for once.”
“Good, let’s keep it that way.”
The two of you approach the bottom of the hill. The incline is mild, so if the rocks aren’t loose, the trek over could actually save some time. The two of you start to kick and pull at rocks.
At the same time that you say “I’m not so sure about this,” Ellie declares “seems alright to me.” She’s always been a risk taker. 
You look over at Ellie and roll your eyes which causes her to sigh. “So much for getting along,” she mumbles. 
“Come on Ellie, the rocks are stable right at the bottom but there are a few loose ones as you go higher up and for all we know it could get worse.”
“Fine, give me a second to test that theory,” Ellie tells you, sounding a little annoyed as she starts to climb a little higher. 
“Ellie, that's not a good idea. The last thing we need is another injury.”
She gives you a sarcastic smile. “Don’t you worry about me, darlin’, I’ll be careful.”
“Why do you always feel the need to challenge me?” you scoff, head tilted to one side, taking a step towards her. To Ellie that was a challenge, igniting a fire in her emerald eyes. She moves forwards slowly, until your faces are mere inches apart, with a cocky grin on her face. “Maybe I just like seeing you fired up.”
That was not at all what you expected so you retreat a few steps to try and recollect yourself. “What’s that supposed to mean?” You inquire. Her statement was far more personal than anything either of you had ever said to each other, aside from the small talk before you realized that you clashed. From very early on things had been strictly business. Her mischievous eyes roll playfully. “Oh come on, I know you’re smarter than that.”
“Quit fucking around Ellie.” You check the time on your watch, getting impatient. 
“I think we should clear the air,” she suggests with urgency. 
“Of what?” You question, gesturing to the space around you. 
Ellie mimics you, which you do not appreciate. “This tension that we have. I know we don't see eye to eye, but I think there is more to it. How else would a little stubbornness escalate to keeping us separated all the time?” Your eyes wander around, looking for where she got the audacity. 
Ellie is still trying to prove her point. “Like I said, I don’t think that’s it.”
You put your hands up in the air. “I’m out of guesses here.”
“Everyone knows you like girls,” Ellie smirks, “I think you like me.”
“Oh really? I like girls so I must like you, is that it? Fuck off.” You turn away, back towards your horse but Ellie grabs your arm. You try to free yourself from her grip but it’s useless. You look at her over your shoulder. 
“Alright, maybe I’m projecting, but I’ve seen the way you look at me.” She says bluntly. 
You would be lying if you denied how attractive Ellie is. That her smile is endearing and you like how her eyes sparkle when she gets excited about something. You may have even had a bit of a crush on her before you met. But then you actually spoke to her. There was friction and there was another girl pursuing you, so you dropped it.
“But the only reason I’ve noticed is because I’m always looking at you,” Ellie admits, eyes softening as she bites the lips you've tried not to pay attention to. “Ellie, we don't have time for this.”
“Fine, I can wait. I’ll even make a deal with you. We do this your way, and we finish this conversation later.”
Standing on Ellie’s front porch, you hesitate to knock. This was bound to be awkward, like the rest of patrol had been. She had relinquished control and allowed you to call the shots. At least if she had challenged every call you made like she usually does it would not have been silent.
When Ellie opens the door she bites back a smile and lets you in. You follow her into the living room and sit down on her couch. You nervously try to get comfortable. Despite achieving physical comfort, you are anxious as hell. There are a lot of different ways this could go and most of them were bad. But when a girl like Ellie Williams notices you, that’s not something you can just ignore. And when a girl that looks like Ellie Williams asks you to do something, how could you ever say no?
Ellie sits with her legs spread, her elbows resting on her knees. At first she looked down at the floor, even though you were expecting her to talk first.
“So…” you say, trying to find a train of thought. 
Ellie’s glances over at you, looking a little lost at first. But after searching your eyes for a moment you can see her focus on you. “I’m sorry. I invited you here. How was the rest of your day?”
“Nothing special. Just spent some time outside reading.”
“Did you eat something? If not, I can make you something.” You really aren’t used to seeing this softer side of Ellie. Her shit eating grin had seemed to be a permanent fixture on her face. But her smile is sweet, her eyes are soft, and her cheeks are flushed pink. 
You know you are failing to hide your smile. “That’s actually very sweet of you, thank you, but I had dinner already.”
Ellie elbows playfully, “don’t sound so surprised.” You have to take a deep breath as you try and figure out how you feel about the physical contact.
Failing to look her in the eyes, you tell her that “you’re not exactly a ray of sunshine, Williams.”
Ellie gasps dramatically. “Really? I would describe myself as a radiant beam of light. Maybe if you gave me a chance you would know that.”
You rest your chin on your hand, ready to listen. “Then let me get to know you. I came here to talk, so let’s talk.”
“One night at the bar I saw you when you came in and I did a bit of a double take. That older girl, I can’t remember her name, but she works across the way at that little shop with her family. She had her arm around you.” Ellie is referring to your ex-girlfriend. A few years older than you, so a fair bit older than Ellie.
You nervously play with your hair. “We aren’t together anymore, things just… didn't work out.”
“Oh I know.”
“You do?” 
Ellie smiles and looks down at her converse. “I haven’t always, but I’ve been paying attention to you. It’s not that I had never looked at you before, I’d just never really seen you. It wasn’t until I saw you with another girl that I noticed all the little things. The way even plain colors bring out your eyes, the shadows that dim lighting create on your face. When you smile… your whole face lights up. And the way you laugh? You always scrunch up your nose and tuck your hair behind your ear. After that night my eyes always seemed to find you, in every room. I looked forward to seeing you when we still got put on shifts together, but I didn’t know how to act around you so I just ended up pissing you off and we both know how that ended. After that I had to settle for seeing you during briefs when we were working at the same time, before we got sent off our separate ways. If I got lucky I would see you when we happened to be in the same place in town at the same time. At first I thought I was crazy, until I realized you were actually looking back. You would glance over your shoulder or peek out of the corner of your eye, and smile when you looked away.”
“I guess I knew that I looked at you sometimes. But all those things that you noticed about me… I had no idea that you did. I had always assumed you never thought twice about me.”
Ellie looks deeply into your eyes when she tells you “I spend more time thinking about you then I care to admit. Ever since I found out about your breakup I’ve been wanting to talk to you. So when they told me I was going to be assigned someone different today, I asked for it to be you.
“You could have just talked to me.”
“How was I supposed to know that? You don’t like me. And you are intimidating. You aren’t just any girl. You are smart and strong-willed and passionate.”
The compliment takes you by surprise so you are unsure of how to respond to it. “It’s not that I don’t like you, I just disagree with you most of the time.”
Ellie bites her lip. “So what do you like about me?”
Unprepared for this question you mumble “um, your tattoo?”
Ellie crossed her arms, “I meant about my personality. But fine, we can start there. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t happy that you like it. Do you have any?”
“Yeah, vines, up the side of my ribcage. Do you want to see?”
“It’s on your… you’d have to take off your…” the panic in her eyes was obvious. 
You stand and slide your shirt up, just enough to show the entire tattoo. Ellie’s eyes widen and her jaw slightly drops. 
“That's…”
“Hot? That’s what people usually tell me.”
“Got a bit of an ego there, don't ya. But yeah, actually. Like really hot.”
“You can touch it, if you want,” offering it up because you feel a bit mischievous.
Ellie purses her mouth as she traces her index finger over the vine, starting just above your hip bone and going all the way to the base of your breast. Her long fingers almost graze over the edge of your bra but she quickly pulls away. 
You sit back down, much closer to Ellie than you had been before. Your eyes flicker between the way she is staring at you and the smile she’s failing to hide. Ellie slowly leans forwards until your noses are about to touch. You close your eyes, expecting her to kiss you, but you feel her tuck your hair behind your ear instead. She grazes her fingertips over your neck as she slides her hand around the back of it so she can pull you in. Her other arm, which feels as strong as it looks, wraps around your waist. Ellie kisses you gently at first, allowing the two of you to fall in sync with each other. But her hand creeps up and her fingers tangle in your hair. Her kisses are growing hungrier for you. You can’t get enough of her either so your hands wander over her body. One of your hands grips her upper thigh and she moans into your mouth. 
Ellie pulls away from you and smirks before laying you on your back with great care. Her tenderness continues to surprise you, so you expect her to continue kissing you roughly. 
Instead, she takes a moment to look over you with her dazzling green eyes. “You are… so beautiful.”
You don’t want to ruin the moment, but you can’t help but ask “is that why you bothered me, like a little kid does when they have a crush?”
Ellie’s soft disposition doesn’t falter, even for a moment. “I guess so. Never seen a girl like you in real life before. Had no idea what to do.”
Your breath hitches. This steamy encounter and that’s what gets you? Just goes to show how you had truly misjudged Ellie Williams. 
“I… uh…” you are really at a loss for words.
Ellie leans in, her lips almost touch your ear. You can feel her warm breath when she whispers “you don’t have to say anything pretty girl.” She starts placing soft kisses on your neck and you moan a little. You feel her chuckle against your skin, clearly pleased with herself. 
After leaving you wanting more, Ellie’s face hovers over yours and she tilts your head up by your chin and places one, seemingly shy, kiss on your lips before sitting back on her knees.
“We should stop.” Ellie sighs.
“Why?” You question, longing for more of her.
“I want to do this the right way. I respect you too much not to. I want to take you out on a date. Get to know you. I want you to know the real me. I’m really hoping something could happen between us, I don’t want to jeopardize that. That is if you are willing to give me, us, a chance.”
You sit up and cup her cheek in your hand. “Alright Williams. I’ll go home now, and you can come to my place tomorrow at 7 and pick me up for our first date.”
Ellie giggles, something you didn’t think you’d ever see her do. “Promise this will be the best date of your life.”
138 notes · View notes
amphitriteswife · 2 months ago
Text
One sided love
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Summary: blud realized he suffers from second ml syndrome
Warnings: dohwa crying, it’s platonic
Pairing: Beak Dohwa x fem! Reader
Tagging: @erinnea
Tumblr media
Being friends with Dohwa had it’s ups and downs. Many didn’t like you being close to him. And other’s thought the two of you made a great couple. But for you and Dohwa it was just platonic friendship. He likes Su ae, you already had a boyfriend from another high school. Many didn’t know about the crush dowha had on Su ae, but they did know that your ‘boyfriend’ usually visited you from time to time if he skipped school. Dohwa liked the way your relationship with him is, there are no secrets, no lies, only truth and honesty which he appreciates. It was flawless. Perfect and the best example of a girl and a boy being friends…yet there was one disagreement which caused a strain in your friendship: Su ae
One might think you were jealous of dohwa liking Su ae, but was that really the case? Ofcourse not. The problem started with you telling Dohwa that you think it’s not smart to pursue a relationship with Su ae. It wasn’t impossible. But you already knew she liked Eunhyuk. It’s obvious isn’t it? Well not for Dohwa. Or perhaps it is and he’s refusing to see it. Love makes one blind after all. Because of the strain the two of you didn’t interact much individually, only with the group or other people, just not the two of you anymore. Keeping the distance made things better in terms of fighting, yet also awkward when you saw him in the hall or outside.
Tumblr media
You were hanging out with friends, mutuals friends that also knew dohwa but at the time were having out with you. You had planned to go to the arcade and then grab some drinks because the lessons tomorrow started later. It was a nice surprise and it gave you the time to finally socialize after the long and exhausting study days. Yet your relaxing didn’t last long, it took only a hour or so before your phone started vibrating. Excusing yourself, you found yourself outside the bar. Staring at the phone with only a number written on it. It was a number you would always recognize, even if you didn’t have his name saved anymore. Dohwa. It was…difficult to say the least. The two of you weren’t in good terms. And he especially wouldn’t call you out of everyone right? So why is he calling you? Is he in danger? Or does he simply have no one to talk to? There were many questions in your head, but they can’t be answered if you don’t pick up the phone. So that’s what you did.
When you clicked on the green button to pick up, you could hear the sound or rummaging on the other end before you heard the phone getting picked up. A soft but raspy and shaky voice on the other end said hello. If it wasn’t for you knowing Dohwa’s number like it was the most basic thing in the world, you wouldn’t even have recognized the voice on the other end. ‘Hello? Dohwa? Why are you calling me?’ You asked him, bringing the phone to your ear to hear him better. You heard a few heavy breaths at the other end of the line before you heard a raspy yet soft and slightly unstable ‘C-can you come to my apartment?’ Half through his sentence you could hear a soft sob. He was crying…You didn’t really know how to feel about this, the two of you didn’t have a good bond anymore….but he was still someone you cared about…so screw it. Only this time will you do another favor once again.
‘I’m on my way.’ You said before hanging up the phone and going inside the bar again, you told your friends that something urgent came up and that you’d call them when it got sorted out for making plans another day before leaving your part of the bill on the table.
Tumblr media
Arriving at Dohwa’s place brought back memories. They were both nostalgic yet painful. You couldn’t help but remember the good old times you spent with him laughing, gossiping, talking or just hanging out. Yet those same memories hurt, aching because it was now past tense. Something that isn’t and hasn’t been a thing for quite a while. Something that was almost forgotten in the back of your mind. It makes you wonder if Dohwa felt the same, did he also miss the close friendship the two of you had? It’s not like the friendship was ever one sided. To be honest…the two of you never even grieved the friendship..
Breaking out of your thoughts, you softly knocked on the door of Dohwa’s apartment, inside you could hear some rummaging and some footsteps coming closer to the door before it fell silent for a moment. You could hear the sound of someone collecting and trying to steady their breath before the door opened. ‘You came..’ Dohwa didn’t look like the person you usually saw in the halls. His eyes were red and puffy. His hair was also disheveled and not in it’s original shape. His cheeks were stained with the wetness of tears and he seemed a little out of breath.
Seeing him like that hurt you. It wasn’t a pleasing sight, even if the two of you weren’t so close..or on the brink of breaking off a friendship it didn’t mean you didn’t care for him. ‘You called.’ You said calmly. He let you into his home, one where you had been many times. It hadn’t changed at all. Like nothing in there had ever been touched. Dohwa lingered a little next to you, unsure if he should speak or not. ‘It’s okay, you can talk to me.’ You told him a little reassuring, smiling at him warmly and putting your purse on the table. Dohwa seemed a little hesitant before he sat on his couch and signaled for you to sit next to him. He took a few deep breaths before he started talking slowly. ‘You were right…’ he said softly. He sounded very heartbroken. And it pretty clear what it meant. He probably now only found out that he had been friend zoned since the beginning and that he frankly, never stood a chance. After all, it was obvious that Su ae and Eunhyuk were supposed to be together, it was common knowledge. They already had chemistry before Dohwa even came into the picture. Everyone knew, except Dohwa. He wouldn’t listen. But…it’s now what he needs right now.
Dohwa hugged you. It was sudden, and perhaps maybe a bit rude. But it’s not like you cared. And neither that you minded, you wrapped your hands around his torso, softly rubbing his back as he buried his head into your shoulder, then the waterworks started. Then the word vomit. You couldn’t even understand what he was saying, it was all just tears, sobbing, incoherent words and shaky breaths. Hw held you tightly. It was almost as if the two of you were back to normal, like how it always had been. As if nothing ever changed. The same old trust and comfort the two of you found in one another. ‘I’ve always told you right? Never be someone’s second option.’ You told him, rubbing his back even more. Dohwa cried even harder, knowing that he was never considered as a number one. Not even closely. It’s sad…almost pathetic even. ‘I know…i know…’ dohwa choked out. He knew it. But he just wanted to believe it, it was his first experience to love. He really thought that she’d love him the same way he did with her.
You ran your hands through his hair, getting them out his eyes and offering him more comfort. Even if he now has his first experience in heartbreak instead of love, at least one important thing came back. You.
Tumblr media
Thank you so much for reading! 🧡💛
80 notes · View notes
starsomens · 8 months ago
Text
OK so I know I’m always talking about absolute filth here with Noah but let’s talk about after the filth is done with.
Noah definitely has your aftercare routine down to every single detail. He is definitely the person to make you go and pee right after you’re done especially if he finishes inside. if you guys aren’t out yet definitely has a pill handy. Aside from the whole medical parts of this, he runs a warm shower for you both. Part of his aftercare I feel is just washing and caring for your body afterwards. Since I do detail that he has to be a little rough at times he also wants to show Your body and your mind that he appreciates and love every inch of you.
Even though he would use a sponge to wash you, he prefers to use his hands and some body soap so that he’s able to massage your skin and really feel you in a loving and intimate way. He definitely holds you under the water and he just tucked your head under his chin, giving you kisses your forehead every now and then just whispering the sweetest things to you.
“I love you very much princess…”
“I know,”
“Look at me” and he cups your face. He doesn’t think where he kind of cranks his neck down to be closer to you to make sure that you understand that he truly means it on such a deeper level than just the words. “I love you….so fucking much….”
No, what I think Noah does is he gets out first he goes to the dryer, warms up your towel comes back and hold the towel open for you to just step into a nice fuzzy warm towel after a shower. he definitely helps you to get some clothes to get into and while you’re getting dressed he goes and he grab some snacks for you both once he’s back grabs some of your favorite lotion or your body oil and you guys just talk over things while he lotions up his body and your body. Meanwhile you’re feeding him some snacks and giving him kisses every now and then. And yes, you purposely kiss him with chip crumbs on your lips, in which you say
“ it adds more flavor to the kiss”
This is definitely the time he likes to bring up any kind of problems or issues or discussions. You guys have had that have to do with relationship. Seeing as you guys are now in a more calm, relaxed, and intimate space and atmosphere he brings up issues so that you guys can talk through it without getting into any kind of arguments. Of course, just like any other couple you guys have your hiccups and having disagreements will happen, even when discussing those disagreements.
“ Y/N, I know how you feel on this topic and about scheduling and time but there are a lot of things that I can’t really change and there are some things I can alter"
"I know, I know…. I just….. sometimes I feel kind of ignored. And I know you're not, but I think I might be overthinking it or I might exaggerate a little."
"No baby, you're not. if it's how you feel, then you're not exaggerating, but if you do feel like I'm ignoring you then I'll try to open up a day or two so we can spend more time together. Does that sound better?"
"mhm…. Thank you for understanding."
"thank you for telling me"
And of course, Noah isn't all innocent. He can be guilty of withholding a lot of his emotions and his opinion on things but he is working with you on it and the more and more you guys have time like this together the more he is especially with you on his emotions. And of course, afterwards after you’re all lotion up, and your bellies are full of snacks, he turns on some random show or movie where you guys can just cuddle and fall asleep together.
And yes, you do end up falling asleep beforehand because he relaxed you so much and he tells you things that he’s not ready to say to you while you’re awake. These are his most deep and sincere thoughts and perhaps he has already told you in your sleep when he was going to propose. Where he would do it, when and how, but you don’t need to know that right now 
159 notes · View notes
luveline · 1 year ago
Note
If you ever start requests up again (if you don't thats fine lol), I'd wonder how Miguel would be with an autistic (or any neurodivergent disability) reader? Thanks regardless for the great reads you've given!
hi!! i don't have autism so please forgive any inauthenticity, but i have a frame of reference in someone close to me so I hope this is somewhat like you wanted! if you ever want to request with specific traits, please do! ty for requesting
"This is the worst thing that could've happened," Miguel says, furious. 
You, sitting on the table by his workbench, glance away from your book reluctantly. Your lips part, confusion a line between your brows as you ask, "Are you making a joke?" 
"It's hyperbole. I'm exaggerating." 
"I thought so, but it's hard to tell. You said it very convincingly." 
"Sorry," he says, glaring down at his broken doohickey. Useless plastic, useless screwdriver useless Miguel. 
"Exaggerating… you're upset," you say. 
Miguel is both surprised and not. He doesn't always expect you to be able to read him. Your autism complicates how you recognise emotion, but you're caring, and now you've been told an effect (exaggeration) you can identify the cause (Miguel's broken device). 
"I'm frustrated," he tells you, leaning back in his chair. "I really thought this one would work." 
"I think the wrong thing all of the time," you say, sympathy creeping into your tone. Some might think you're unemotional, and the reality might be true for others, even yourself when you're with unfamiliar people, but it's not true in this instance. "Maybe I can help." 
Miguel scoots back his chair and you stand between his thighs, eyes roving over the fragments of his device, taking everything in. You love engineering —your involvement with the Arachno Humanoid Poly Multiverse had been, in your own words, the best thing that ever happened to you, as it dropped you head first into new technology, better technology than you ever saw on your Earth. You spend longer than you should bending over books about science undiscovered on your planet, your life a pressing of hydraulics, centrifuges, holographic projection, and magbelt machinery that Miguel loves to play. 
"It's badly soldered," you say. 
He winces. No punches held. "I used to be better." 
"You're bad now." 
You asked him a while back to let you know if you ever stepped on his toes, so to speak. Usually Miguel would leap to agitated disagreement, but you asked, and he likes you. He explains.
"Ah, that hurts my feelings," he says, without heat. "I know objectively that you're right, but people appreciate fluffing when it comes to observational critique." Miguel scoots his chair back as you turn to face him. "It's okay. I'm not mad." 
"You're patient," you say, nodding. "Sorry. Fluffing… how would you say it?" 
"I'd say, your soldering is a little iffy." 
"It's a lot iffy." 
"That's the fluffing. A white lie. No one's feelings get hurt and the problem is still identified." 
You nod more. "I'm a little better at soldering. I can fix it for you." 
"Nice," he says. 
He stands up and squeezes your shoulder gently. Your face dips to his hand and holds it there, cheek pressed to his knuckles, a smile turning the corners of your mouth up. Miguel isn't expecting it, but he doesn't rush you. 
"Can we spend time together after we fix it?" you ask.
"If we fix it." 
"I can fix it," you say happily, straightening your head and freeing his hand. "I'm much better at soldering than you." 
Miguel's a prideful person by instinct. He walks to the side of the workshop where he keeps the soldering iron and associated paraphernalia, throwing a quip over his shoulder, "You think you're better."
"I know I'm better," you say, sitting in his chair. "Sorry. I know a little that I'm better." 
He should say, Hey, we'll work on it, but Miguel doesn't want to. He likes you just as you are, accidental insults and all. 
568 notes · View notes
linkspooky · 1 year ago
Note
Hi I really love ur metas your jjk ones really made me appreciate the story even more. I was curious about ur analysis on why Gojo is important to Geto.
It's obvious as to why Geto is important to Gojo and how Geto effected him but I don't think it's talked about enough of the reversal
Tumblr media
That's a good observation anon, the story makes it less obvious what Geto needs Gojo for, while spending a long time lingering on the tragedy of Geto's loss and what the loss of his only real friend meant for Gojo.
I think part of this is because Geto is a character of deep self-reflection so a lot of his internal narration is about his feelings towards his self and thinking through his own ideals and what that means. Whereas Gojo doesn't really self reflect but he does observe other people. We don't know what Gojo's opinions on a lot of things are, but we know what Geto meant to him because he's much clearer on how he felt towards Geto. Geto's staring into himself trying to figure what he feels personally, Gojo is always staring at other people trying to figure out what they feel.
As for why Gojo means so much to Geto, it's important to remember that they are a duo. They're the same idiot in different fonts. Geto's a much more human character and we are inside his head more often so it's easy to forget that when they were young Geto had the same kind of god / superiority complex that Gojo did.
Tumblr media
Geto is associated with religious imagery over and over again, the same way that Gojo is associated with budhist ideals of enlightenment and escaping karma. They are both people who were in their teenage years more powerful than everyone around them, and because of that looked down on everyone.
Even Geto's stated ideals of "protecting the weak" come from a place of superiority. He still divides people mentally into the weak and the strong. The special ones and the common rabble. He sees people the same way Gojo does, he just believes that the strong like him and Gojo have a moral obligation to use their powers responsibly in service of others.
Geto's not more humble than Gojo. Their moral disagreement comes from how they should use the power they've been given, but they both feel that the power they have puts them in a position above other people.
Tumblr media
All of this to illustrate the fact that if Gojo felt isolated as a teenager because all the power he had made him feel lonely and unable to connect with others, then so Geto probably felt isolated in the same way too. They each found in each other someone they could finally call their equal. Because of it they gained someone they could be vulnerable around and someone they could trust to watch their back.
The things Geto does for Gojo (check on his feelings when no one else would, go out of his way to reassure him), Gojo does for Geto in return. It's not Geto always taking care of Goo it's a partnership between the two of them where they lean on each other.
Tumblr media
When Kuroi is kindapped and Geto immediately falls into a funk and starts to blame himself for his mistake, it's Gojo who reassures him by hurrying him along and telling him they need to focus on planning what they should do next. Gojo knows Geto well enough to know his tendency to get trapped in his own thoughts and gives him the kick in the pants he needs.
Tumblr media
In the same scene where Geto checks on Gojo's well-being to make sure he's not overusing his power, Gojo returns the sentiment by reassuring Geto not to worry about him because he won't push himself too hard and that he's not in this alone Geto's here too.
That's probably a big part of it for Geto. Yes, Geto tends to naturally slide into the caretaker role, watching out for Gojo and checking in on him but at the same time Geto probably likes that there is someone who needs him in that way. If Gojo's defined by his lack of connection with other people, Geto's defined by the way he goes out to make connections. It's nice to be needed as they say. The fact that someone as seemingly self-sufficient as Gojo not only relies on Geto a great deal, but lets Geto take care of him is probably a big part of their bond.
Which is probably why Gojo's awakening post Toji is a big part in why they started to grow apart from each other. If Geto likes to live in service to other people, and defines himself by his connection to others he probably interpreted Gojo no longer needing his support on missions and suddenly doing everything by himself as Gojo pulling away from him.
Tumblr media
I think a big part in Geto's downfall was the hit he took when one he was defeated by Toji someone without Jujutsu and too, Gojo suddenly became out of his reach. Gojo himself never said that they were no longer the strongest duo, or that they were no longer the strongest together it's all Geto. As I said Geto has as much of a god complex as Gojo does.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
He thought they were on the top together, and not only is he suddenly confronted with his own weakness at the exact same time Gojo's become so strong it appears on the surface that he no longer needs anyone's support, especially not Geto's.
Tumblr media
Nanami says it out loud, but Geto probably echoes the sentiment. If Gojo is now strong enough to handle every mission on his own then what need does he have for other sorcerers - and Geto in particular? Geto goes from feeling needed in a lot of ways by Gojo who was just as important a friend to him as he was to Gojo to watch Gojo suddenly handle everything alone. In a lot of ways it probably felt like Geto lost Gojo far before the KFC breakup and his defection from Jujutsu High. From Geto's perspective their relationship was over, their partnership broken and Gojo just did not realize it until after the village massacre.
At first Geto had as big of an ego with Gojo, and connected in a special way with him because the two of them were on top together. However, he came to believe that the only reason their partnerhsip worked was because they were both the strongest. When Gojo became the strongest alone Geto believed incorrectly that what they once had was lost and Gojo no longer needed him when Gojo's emotional reaction to Geto's defection shows that's anything but true.
In Geto's mind it is though because he's kind of got the same messed up way of dividing people into strong and weak that Gojo does, he probably just realized that he was one of the weak ones and feared Gojo thinking the same way.
During Geto and Gojo's final confrontation he almost has an inferiority complex about it when he talks about how if he had the limitless he'd easily be able to accomplish what he set out to do.
Tumblr media
Until that moment Geto always thought they were equals, but now Geto's suddenly talking like he covets Gojo's power. He suddenly wants to be Gojo, probably because he incorrectly believes that their partnership is base don being equals in power when it's really just a normal friendship.
Which is why the loss of Gojo's friendship affects Geto just as badly as the other way around. Everyone wants to be equals with their friends, especially to a friend as important as Gojo was to Geto.
Tumblr media
There's almost a tragic irony in how when speaking of his friendship to Nanako and Mimiko, Geto acts like their friendship ended when Gojo left Jujutsu High. It's their in his death scene too, Geto is surprised by the fact that Gojo has any feelings left for him.
Tumblr media
Geto's so insecure over his connection to Gojo he didn't understand that in Gojo's mind they were still friends right up until the very end, and perhaps if he were just a bit more secure they would have been able to reach one another instead of falling apart.
335 notes · View notes
kolyasangel · 3 months ago
Text
ERASE ME FROM HERE AND SET ME FREE
synopsis: now that you're acquainted with nikolai, you start to sense hidden troubles and you're even more determined to become closer to him.
content: ch. 2 of icarus falls - main navi / wc: 4.1k
Tumblr media
The jingle of the bells ringing fills the air as you and Nikolai enter the cafe. The smell of freshly baked pastries and coffee hits your nose, creating a pleasing aroma. It's particularly busy today, bustling with customers, most likely because it's a Saturday.
"I didn't know you came to this cafe too, I always come here after work," you say to Nikolai.
"Oh yeah? That's nice." Nikolai says nonchalantly as he's intently looking at the menu, deliberating on what he wants to order, while you find yourself drawn to the delectable array of desserts behind the glass display.
"What are you getting?" you ask him.
"The iced honey lemon tea." He replies, looking to his side where you are. "What do you want?"
"I'll get the same thing as you, and slice of a strawberry cake."
He pauses, visibly curious about your choice of beverage. Perhaps you enjoyed his favorite tea too, he thought. "You like that tea?"
"I've never had it before so I want to try it, I like trying new things," you explain. He can't quite put his finger on it—but he finds something about your statement endearing and innocent.
Nikolai places the order, and you reach for your wallet in your little bag to pay for the both of you. He sees you do this and intervenes, halting you.
"Nuh-uh, put that way. I'm paying." he insists.
You look up at him and immediately shake your head in disagreement. "Please, I told you I would treat you."
"Hell no, I'm not letting you pay. What kind of guy would I be if I let the lady pay? I may be a dick, but I'm still a gentleman." he argues.
It was hard to hold back a laugh at his earnestness. He sounded so serious about his claim like he genuinely wanted you to believe him and it was so.. cute.
"Sometimes." you add, not missing the slight smile falling on his lips from your response.
Nikolai himself was a little surprised by your reaction and playful comment. He was expecting some kind of protest, not for you to laugh at him.
He motions you to sit at a table while he pays, so you do just that. You pick a small cozy table next to the window with two seats and sit down in one of them. As you sit, you rest your chin in the palm of your hand and look out the window, stealing occasional glimpses of passersby and whatnot outside. The events that occurred this morning went by in a blur—you showing up at Nikolai's door and waiting twenty minutes for him to get ready because he hadn't done so beforehand. You honestly don't know why it took that long because he didn't wear anything different than what you've already seen, just the usual t-shirt and sweatpants. You didn't mind, though—you're just grateful Nikolai agreed to spend time with you today.
You are caught off guard when Nikolai comes back and takes a seat in the chair across from you. Being in such proximity allowed you to observe and appreciate his features. His hair looks soft, and the striking eyes that met yours for the first time two days ago appeared to hold the same intensity, this time with a tinge of softness mingled in them. But, you figured that maybe you shouldn't be staring, so you fiddle with your fingers instead to pass some time before the drinks arrive.
Nikolai takes a moment to glance at your outfit while you aren't looking at him and notices how you dressed up in a pretty sundress today. For a second, he feels a bit bad that he didn't make the effort to fix up his appearance as you did, but the brief twinge of guilt felt was instantly drowned out by reluctant resistance. It doesn't matter.
"I'm happy you took time out of your day to hang out with me." you express and offer a cute smile, taking him out of his thoughts.
Nikolai looks at you, baffled, unsure of how to take your words or how to respond. "Hey hey, keep that away alright? This isn't a date or anything," he interjects before looking away from you to gaze out the window instead, avoiding your eyes and unwilling to engage further in your comment.
You felt your cheeks flush when he said that—that thought hadn't even crossed your mind. A date? With Nikolai? Like he'd ever want that.
Lost in your thoughts, you were pulled out of them as the waitress came with both of your drinks and your cake. She must've thought you and Nikolai were together, evidenced by how she grinned at you both and the two forks placed by the cake on the plate.
Nikolai, on the other hand, either didn't notice this or decided to ignore it. Rather, he seems unbothered while taking a sip of his tea, humming in delight when the familiar taste settles on his tongue.
You reach for your cup and take a sip of yours as well, eager to taste it. "Ooh, I like it! I think this might be my new favorite." you say before taking another sip, relishing the sweet and sour taste. A certain expression you couldn't quite identify flickers in Nikolai's eyes as he observes you.
Putting your tea down, you grew more curious about something and were practically itching to ask about it. "Can I ask you something, Nikolai?"
"You already did, silly." he playfully answers.
"Oh." you grin at the nickname, making you feel more relaxed. "Well.. can I ask how you got that scar?" you ask, resting your chin in the palms of your hands.
His eyes widen. He didn't expect that one.
As obvious as it was, he was still hoping you wouldn't ask about it, the risk of it leading to questions about his past surfacing. Despite this, fingers came up to his face to lightly graze against the scar that ran from his upper eyebrow and down his left eye. "This one? It's hideous isn't it?" he asks humorously, almost as if he's anticipating agreement.
"No, I think it actually looks kinda cool, it suits you in a way.." Your words elicit a gentle smile from him. "Did you get into a fight or something?"
"You could say that."
He was making it clear as day that he didn't want to elaborate or actually answer your question, so you didn't persist. Perhaps it wasn't a fond memory he liked to remember.
Instead, you notice him eyeing the cake in front of you.
"Do you want some? Here." You push the plate towards the middle of the table and hand him the other fork, waiting for him to take it, which he does.
He digs the fork into the other side of the cake and takes a bite before averting his eyes to look out the window, seemingly uncomfortable to meet your eyes in this moment.
You took another bite and munched on the cake happily, enjoying it.
"So.." Nikolai's mellow voice draws your attention. "What do you do for work?" he asks as he faces you again, initiating a conversation.
"I'm a florist," you reply, a smile lighting up your face. "The shop is not too far down this street, actually. That's why I come here after work since the walk is short." you explain.
"Florist, huh.." he muses, taking another sip of his tea as he listens to you intently.
"Yeah, I like flowers a lot!" you say, your passion for your work evident in your tone. "I love my job."
Nikolai seems genuinely taken aback by your enthusiasm. This was probably the first time he'd ever heard someone talk so fondly about their work, not that the event of him talking to people happened often. But it was unusual. You sure are a weird one.
"Do you like flowers, Nikolai?"
"Probably not as much as you do." he mutters, putting his tea down. "You go to school?"
"I graduated college recently.." you respond.
He nods in understanding. "Ah, you're young."
"You're young too right? You don't seem that much older than me." you tease, trying to gauge his age.
"I don't know if you'd consider me young, but by definition, I suppose I am," he replies with a hint of amusement.
"You're like the only person around my age I've seen in the complex, you know." you mention, smiling and reaching for your cup of tea. "I'm glad I bumped into you after he told me not to speak to you."
His brows furrow at your words. He seems upset. "Who said that?"
"Our landlord," you clarify. "A few days ago, after an apartment inspection."
"Oh, that old piece of shit." he grumbles.
"He's not that old.." you reply, puzzled by his reaction.
"The way you're saying it makes it sound like you have a crush on him." he jokes before taking another bite of the cake.
"What?! Absolutely not!" you exclaim, scoffing at the thought.
"Yeah, yeah whatever." Nikolai retorts, nodding and shrugging it off before asking you another question to switch the topic. "Any friends around here?"
You freeze but quickly shake your nerves off. "Now you're the one interrogating me with questions." you giggle, albeit nervously, wanting to avoid the question.
He tries to conceal a smile but fails when he hears your laugh, not being able to stop the corners of his mouth from curling upwards. "Yeah, I guess I am. Consider it sort of a payback, now we're even."
"I suppose so." you laugh, finding the banter between the both of you amusing. "Enough about me, I wanna know about you!" you say, eager to steer the conversation in a different direction.
Nikolai's smile fades and he clears his throat. "Oh, I'm not that interesting. You'll probably get bored if I start talking about myself."
"Aw, c'mon! Please?" you implore, displaying your keen interest in learning more about him. "What do you like to do in your free time?"
Your insatiable desire to know more about him. He hates it.
He clenches his jaw and his heart is beating faster in nervousness. "I don't know.." he says, not knowing how to answer your question.
You sense the discomfort hidden in his answer, noticing an undertone of dismay tainting his voice, so you decide it's best to change the subject. "When did you move here?" you ask with a gentler voice.
"I don't know, two years ago, I think. I lost track of time." He eventually mutters, his tone more quieter than before.
"Ooh, and where did you live before then? What did you do for work?" you ask, now interested in his past.
Nikolai stiffens, a hint of unease crossing his features. He can't tell you anything about his previous endeavors.
Although you're eager, he doesn't entertain your curiosity and remains silent, causing you to huff and lean back in your seat in frustration. He's so stubborn. But you can't hold it against him—for you suppose that you too are stubborn sometimes as well.
You look at your plate and notice the last strawberry, the one that sat on top of the cake, left on the plate. You push the plate towards Nikolai. "You can have it."
"Are you kidding? You eat it." He pushes the plate back to you, not understanding why you don't just eat it yourself instead of giving it to him.
You didn't know what you were expecting from him, but deep down, a part of you secretly wished for him to accept your nice gesture. Unwilling to make a big deal out of it, you poke your fork through the berry and take a nibble.
— ✦
After the two of you leave the cafe, the slight breeze provides some coolness from the heat as the sun's rays beat down on your skin.
Nikolai proceeded to walk to his car, but you hesitated, standing in place, reluctant to leave just yet. Your eyes instead lingered in the direction of the flower shop that was nearby.
"What are you waiting for? Let's go." he calls for you, drawing your attention.
You hurry over to him but don't get into the car. "Nikolai, I want to show you something. Please?" you told him, your hands clasped together, one squeezing the other. He was about to enter his car, but the way you spoke to him and the expression on your face made it very difficult to do.
He wished he could get rid of these feelings once and for all. His chest felt constricted. It was all too overwhelming—the way his emotions overbore and defied any rational thinking or reason. It annoyed him to no end. Damn it all to hell.
"No, come on, we're going." he tries his best to maintain his composure and conceal any weakness.
"Nikolai.." you touch his shoulder. "The flower shop is down the road, do you wanna see it? It'll be quick, I promise. I don't have the keys right now, but I could show you the outside."
Your touch is so gentle.
He pulls away, avoiding any further contact with you, and looks at you again with a peeved expression. He sighs deeply and puts a hand over his eyes, his other arm still gripping the car door handle.
Seeing his reaction, you decide maybe it wasn't a good idea to push him any further. Annoyance, or frustration, is what you believe he's experiencing, or maybe a combination of both. You move to the passenger side, not wanting to trouble him any longer, preparing to let him drive you home.
He removes his hand from his eyes when he hears shuffling and notices the sad look on your face as you are about to open the car door. "Fine, fine!" He throws his arms up in defeat.
You look at him in shock and move your hands up to your chest, a smile painting your face as he agrees to go check out the shop.
"Well, get a move on. We don't have all day." He says while putting his keys in his pocket and starts walking. You catch up to him and walk beside him, slightly ahead so that he can follow your direction. However, you do struggle a bit to keep pace as he walks faster since he's so much taller than you, which makes you somewhat nervous. But regardless of his slightly intimidating appearance, you still find him to be kind.
A few minutes later, Nikolai comes to a stop when you do, standing in front of a small building.
"Right here?" he asks.
You nod and move closer to peer through the glass into the dark, empty shop. "The shop isn't open on weekends."
Nikolai admires the shop exterior, finding it surprisingly charming compared to what he had imagined. The outside of the building is a dark green—a color of nature that perfectly suits the shop's offerings. He looks up at the sign that hangs above the entrance.
"Lily of the valley - Flowers and gifts."
He must admit, it does look like a cozy and inviting place to work and spend time in. It quite suits your personality, he thought.
"It's lovely." He says sincerely, more honest than he would've liked for it to come across.
The reason is inexplicable, but his reaction makes you more giddy than you expected it to make you, with his face looking so soft compared to just a few minutes ago. You're happy he likes it. You're so happy.
"What are you planning to do with the degree that you earned?" he suddenly asks. "I'm sure you don't want to stay working here forever."
"I would like to if I could." you say, no trace of uncertainty in your voice. "It doesn't pay much, but, for me it's better than anything else. It makes me happy.." your voice trails off.
He notices the falter in your voice. "You don't seem too happy right now."
"What? Oh.." you look at the ground before looking up again, your head still slightly tilted to the floor. "I just don't like talking about the future, I'm still not completely sure what I want and it makes me nervous. I don't want to get stuck with some job I don't enjoy and throw away my happiness."
Nikolai's brows ease while he attentively listens to you talking about your troubles. He doesn't know what to say to make you feel better or why he even cares at all anyway.
"I think the place I'm in right now is fine, and I shouldn't rush myself into getting a career." you continue. "Even if that day never comes, even if I stay at this place, I'll be content."
Maybe it's the look on your face that is visible to him through the reflection of the glass or the wavering in your typically cheerful voice. Whatever it is, something grips at his chest. His chest feels tight, and his heart is pounding against his chest, desperate in a futile attempt to break free from its cage. It feels like he can't breathe.
You look away from the glass and look back at Nikolai.
"I'm sorry, we can go back now.." you smile, but he sees right through you and can tell you are feigning ease from the lack of crinkles around your eyes.
Nikolai pats the pocket that holds his keys and starts walking in the direction of his car without exchanging another word, you following behind.
But you nearly bump into him shortly when Nikolai suddenly halts in his tracks. Your face would've almost touched his back if you hadn't looked up in time, and you quickly moved beside him to see what had captured his attention.
Your eyes land on a group of pigeons on the ground, and you can't help but smile as you watch them, finding their waddling walks cute. Then, you look back at Nikolai, who seems to be focused on the birds before noticing your gaze towards him, causing him to start moving again towards his car.
You follow him closely now, nearly brushing arms. "Did you want to watch the birds a little longer, Nikolai?" you ask, noticing the shift in his abrupt actions.
"No.." his voice is quiet, barely audible.
He enters his car and settles into the driver's seat, and you get into the passenger's side, carefully fastening your seat belt. Nikolai's car wasn't the nicest, quite the opposite actually with how messy and dirty the inside was, but who were you to judge the vehicle he drove? It wasn't any of your business so you kept your mouth shut—which is good for Nikolai as he's hoping you don't talk anymore for the sake of his sanity. He starts to drive and you grip your purse, succumbing to boredom, you decide to rummage through it for a bit before pulling down the sun visor to look in the little mirror.
"Fucking hell," he curses under his breath when he catches a glimpse of you looking at your reflection through the car mirror. His grip on the steering wheel tightens a little, deterring his eyes away and trying to focus on the road instead of how you're currently tracing your finger along the edges of your lips, cleaning up your lip gloss.
The ride back to the apartment complex was silent, thankfully, Nikolai thought. It was only when he parked that you caused that silence to dissipate.
"Nikolai, thank you for today." You're facing him now with a satisfied expression, a grin creeping up on your face.
One of his hands is still firmly gripping the bottom of the wheel while the other is on the door handle, avoiding looking at you. "You don't need to thank me for anything, and this was your idea anyway," he mutters in response.
"I know.. but you still agreed and took me out, and you even paid for me. So, thank you again." you say with a sweet smile. It had been a while since you casually hung out with someone like this, and you couldn't remember the last time you'd enjoyed someone's company so much, so your short time with Nikolai brought great delight to your day.
Nikolai looks at you, finally. His hand on the wheel relaxes and drops to his lap, and his features soften as his tenseness diminishes.
"You're welcome."
You feel your ears redden at his honest tone and the way he looks at you, a hint of glimmer visible in his eyes. Eventually, you tear your gaze away from him after a few seconds, which too, makes Nikolai snap back into reality. He looks out the car window and coughs, trying to dispel the slight awkwardness that crept in.
"Come on." He quickly gets out of the car and closes the door, not waiting for you to get out before he starts walking. You exit the car after him and close the door, catching up to him.
"Hey, Nikolai, glad to see you finally outside for once!" a voice calls out.
Nikolai clicked his tongue and made no eye contact with the man he despised.
"Ignore him," he mutters as the two of you approach the building.
You see the landlord on the first floor who, what you assume, is doing his regular duties. But you notice his stare fixates on Nikolai, and as you both near the stairs, you feel a hand grasp your wrist which causes you to gasp.
"Finally got a girlfriend?" he asks Nikolai, mockingly.
"Fuck off." Nikolai spews back. He must really loathe that guy for some reason. He lets go of your wrist and moves his hand to your back, gently urging you to move forward after you both pass the guy.
"Stay in front of me." his voice is stern.
You nod, your cheeks still burning from the sudden contact between you two.
"Why are you so mean to him?" you ask, visibly confused about the obvious scorn he regarded for the landlord.
"Because I'm sick of getting treated like shit."
His comment makes you frown as you hear his tone shift into an aggrieved one, the raw resentment in his voice transparent. He'd never been this expressive before, and you couldn't help but worry about him, wondering what might've led to such a stark change in his demeanor.
You and Nikolai make it to the second floor, and you stare as he gets his keys out, unlocking his door before turning to see you looking at him.
"What? Do you think you're coming in? Because you're not."
"N-No, it's not that! I just have to ask you something." you stammer out.
He sighs and closes his eyes while using a shoulder to lean on the doorframe, mentally preparing himself for only God knows what is about to come.
"Nikolai.." your mellifluous voice begins.
God, the way you say his name is too cute. It drips from your lips like honey.
I don’t like what you're doing to me.
"Yeah?" his eyes open to look at you again.
"We're friends, right..?" you timidly ask, awaiting his answer tentatively.
Friends? No. No, No, this was a one-time thing, right? What the hell do you mean friends?
His heart is beating fast like a drum and his hands began trembling. "I— uh.."
Too comfortable. Don't get too comfortable with her. She's already getting too comfortable with you.
"Nikolai, I just want you to know.. if you ever feel sad, you can talk to me. I'll be your friend." you beam. "I'm always next door, only a knock away."
His lips part slightly in thorough disbelief at what he is hearing, unable to accept it. You're concerned for him. You genuinely want to be his friend. Since childhood, he'd always been used to it being the other way around, but for once, someone was so kind enough to ask him instead, which left him quite awestruck, to say the least.
"Except when I'm at work." You try to lighten the mood, and to your relief, he lets out a chuckle.
"You smiled a lot today." you comment shyly. "You know, I think we should hang out like this more often. I wouldn't mind at all." you admit, your eyelashes fluttering as you look down.
"You didn't have to point that out." He feels a heat of embarrassment overcome him, his cheeks dusting with a soft pink color as he awkwardly rubbed the nape of his neck, your observation making him more self-conscious. "Me neither.." he added, the words spilling out of his mouth involuntarily.
Fuck. Why did I say that?
Tumblr media
© kolyasangel 2024 - no reposts. do not copy, steal, or translate. reblogs are appreciated.
57 notes · View notes
8turning · 8 months ago
Note
Hi! Can i request hongjoong as a bf
thank you for this request!! hongjoong is so lovely ♡
Tumblr media
☆⠀⠀KIM.HONGJOONG — boyfriend headcannons !
Tumblr media
bf ! kim hongjoong x gn ! reader ★ fluff + very minimal angst. established relationship ★ headcannon
warnings: none i noticed. let me know if i missed anything!
Tumblr media
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED ! ⸜(ˊ▽ˋ*)
💭 THINKING ABOUT : HONGJOONG.
he's a rather quiet lover, i think.
hongjoong's mind is running 24/7, and no matter how many times you tell him you understand, he still gets an ache in his chest thinking he's not putting you on a high enough pedestal.
you knew it wasn't his fault - you knew if given the opportunity, your doting boyfriend would spend all of his time at your side.
sometimes it felt like you cared more about his career than he did. telling him that he can't stay over another night because he has practice in the morning, or that he needs to help guide his members for upcoming performances - that your movie night can be pushed back a day.
he knows you're right, but that doesn't stop him from causing a light-hearted bickering match between you two about the topic. he thinks it's cute how much you care.
takes gift giving SO PERSONALLY!!! will make anything and everything for you that he can. need a new light-jacket for fall? he'll customize it to your exact style and taste. need a new screen protector? no worries, he'll buy you one (and make you a cool phone case as well).
hongjoong really likes the idea of matching, but he also equally adores if you have a different style from him. both of you exploring how each other likes to dress and express yourself would be something he really takes value in!
disagreements with hongjoong would be few and far between, but on the occasion they do happen, you would have discussed prior what each person needs to resolve it.
hongjoong isn't the type who needs to address things right away. he prefers to have a bit of time - having the opportunity to collect himself fully to have a productive conversation is what he values the most.
he's never outwardly angry or upset, but in the years you've been with him, you've been able to pick up on smaller habits of his.
longer hours spent at his laptop, his palm over his mouth as he works as if he's preventing himself from speaking, or staying in the studio for extended periods of time are just a handful of examples.
when the time finally comes, a mature conversation will be held. the level of communication you both have is the reason arguments are so rare. you know that he'll listen to your concerns and that gives you comfort to express your thoughts - he knows you'll listen to him as well.
after a nice talk, he'll give you a long hug and a kiss to your temple, a small reminder that he wants to always be with you.
Tumblr media
♡ 8TURNING 2024.
127 notes · View notes
adrealucia · 3 months ago
Note
If it's not weird, could you possibly write something about Sean dating someone with multiple younger siblings and very much relates to him on being the oldest with a bit of an age gap!
Maybe they never really mentioned their siblings much besides a few mentions and Sean finally meets them...
ahhh this request was just sooo cute i love it 😭😭 hope you enjoy reading <3
Tumblr media
Meet the kids
Sean had always known you were special. Your kindness, your strength, and your wisdom beyond your years had always intrigued him. However, there was one aspect of your life that remained somewhat of a mystery: your family.
You had mentioned them in passing—a younger brother’s soccer game here, a sister’s school project there—but you never went into much detail. Sean, the oldest sibling in his own family with just one younger brother, often wondered about your role in your larger family dynamic.
One Friday evening, you invited him to your family’s house for the first time. He could sense a mix of excitement and nerves in your voice when you extended the invitation, and that made him even more eager to meet the people who meant so much to you.
As you pulled into the driveway of a cozy, bustling home, the sounds of laughter and playful shouts greeted you. You hadn’t even opened the car door when a whirlwind of activity surrounded you both. A boy, no older than eight, dashed towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist.
"Hey, squirt!" you greeted him, ruffling his hair. "This is Sean."
The boy eyed Sean with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. "Hi," he said cautiously.
Sean crouched down to the boy's level. "Hey, buddy. Nice to meet you. What’s your name?"
The boy’s face lit up. "I'm Jake. Do you play soccer?"
Sean grinned. "I do. Maybe you can show me some moves later?"
Jake’s eyes sparkled with excitement as he nodded vigorously. One by one, the rest of your siblings emerged from the house. There was Emma, a teenager just starting to find her own path, and the twins, Lily and Liam, who were a bundle of energy and mischief. Lastly, there was baby Grace, toddling over with a shy smile, clutching a stuffed animal.
Throughout the evening, Sean watched in amazement as you seamlessly managed your siblings. You effortlessly switched from playing soccer with Jake to helping Emma with her homework, to calming the twins after a small disagreement, and finally, tenderly rocking Grace to sleep. It was clear that you were more than just a sibling to them—you were their rock, their guide, and, in many ways, their second mother.
At one point, while you were inside grabbing snacks, Emma approached Sean. "You know, she doesn’t bring just anyone around," she said matter-of-factly.
Sean smiled, touched by the implication. "I’m glad she did. You all seem like a lot of fun."
Emma nodded. "We are. And we’re protective of her, just so you know."
Sean chuckled. "I’d expect nothing less."
As the night went on, Sean found himself feeling a sense of admiration and awe. He had always known you were amazing, but seeing you in this environment, handling everything with such grace and love, deepened his appreciation for you.
On the drive back, Sean couldn’t help but voice his thoughts. "You’re incredible, you know that?"
You glanced at him, a bit surprised. "What do you mean?"
"The way you handle everything. Your siblings, the chaos, the love. You’re like their second mother," he said, his voice filled with admiration.
You smiled, a bit shyly. "I guess I’ve had to be. Our parents work a lot, so I’ve always taken on a lot of responsibility."
Sean reached over and took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "They’re lucky to have you. And so am I."
You squeezed his hand back, eyes filled with gratitude. "Thanks, Sean. It means a lot that you see that."
He leaned in and kissed your forehead softly. "I see everything. And I’m here for it all."
As the car continued down the road, you both knew this was just the beginning of many more family-filled adventures. And Sean couldn’t wait to be a part of it all.
50 notes · View notes
bluehourbucky · 2 years ago
Text
Team Work
pairing: Steven Grant x f!reader; Marc Spector x reader; Jake Lockley x reader
summary: your boys help take care of you when you get sick
italics are the moon boys talking to each other
a/n: first time writing for moon boys please be nice. Also would appreciate any tips of how to write for moon knight and the boys <3 if you have any please comment or send them in my asks :)
---------------------------------------------------
Oh no, you thought when you woke up with a runny nose and a sneeze. You turned around to see if you had woken up your boyfriend. Luckily, you didn't. He has a day off so he can sleep a little longer. You're not even sure when they arrived last night, so you were careful to get out of the bed as quietly as possible.
As you were getting ready for work, you felt a little dizzy. Maybe it's nothing, you lied to yourself. You really didn't need a cold or something right now, you were saving your free days to go on a vacation with your boys.
"Love?"
"Shit" you whisper, Steven is going to notice immediately that you're not feeling well, not that Marc or Jake wouldn't it's just harder to convince Steven not to worry.
"Love, you alright?" you hear him coming to the bathroom. He comes in and hugs you from behind, puts his head on your shoulder and kisses your neck.
"I'm fine! Just didn't sleep well last night, you should go back to bed!" Steven looks in the mirror, probably talking to Marc or Jake.
"She's hiding something. Ask her again." Marc scolds Steven, and Steven rolls his eyes.
"Darling, are you sure? What's going on?" Steven stops you, one hand on your arm, and the other is lifting your chin, so you look at him.
Right as you were about to answer, you sneeze into your elbow, which then turns into a coughing fit. Steven caresses your back softly, waiting for you to stop.
"I'm okay." You sniff, looking for toilet paper to blow your nose.
"Marc says you're not, and that you're staying home today, and Jake agrees. And I agree with that, my love, I bet you're burning up."
You knew they were right, so you didn't put up a fight when Steven made you change back into your pajamas and call in sick at work.
"Stay." Steven, tucks you in and orders you to stay in bed, you have a tendency to get up and follow him when you're sick.
"Steven let me switch with you, I wanna take care of my baby."
"Not a chance, I want to do it"
Steven pushes Marc away, set on a mission to make you a hot cup of tea and a soup. He makes you take your temperature, and you in fact do have a fever.
"Steven. Now." Marc is becoming impatient he wants to help but Steven is being stubborn as always.
"I want to help too."
Great, now Jake also wants to help, so Steven has to fight them both for control. He hates to admit it, but you being sick sometimes can be the best time to be with you. You become so cuddly and clingy, and Steven relishes in those moments when you need him. Unfortunately, he's not the only one.
"Here you go, love." Steven helps you sit up and feeds you the soup, then he gives you some medication for your very high fever. He can't believe you almost went to work.
"Thank you." You sniff, and your boyfriend gives you a sympathetic look. You know you probably shouldn't have pulled Steven into bed with you and then laid on his chest, but it's the best spot for sleeping.
"I love you." Stevens heart skips a beat whenever you tell him that. He holds you tighter and then he starts playing with your hair which makes you relax completely.
"This is not fair! You took care of her last time! You can't do this." Marc knows it's stupid to be jealous yet he is but so is Jake.
"Marc's right! Should be my turn by now!"
"You're giving me a headache!" Steven accidentally yells out, which makes you jump.
"Sorry, darling, didn't mean to say that out loud."
"What are you guys fighting about now?" you ask, its easy to tell when they're in a disagreement. They all show it differently, but you know. Right now, Steven is pouting.
"You're not fighting about taking care of me again? Are you? We talked about this."
"Uhh Marc has something to say."
Seriously!???
"Hi babe." Marc is cursing Steven in his head for leaving him to make an excuse.
"We just want to take care of you, and well, I think we all enjoy your attention a little too much when you're like this. And also last time you were sick, Steven did everything and didnt let us help. Don't want you thinking that I don't want to take care of you. "
Doing a great job Marc now she'll think we like it when she's sick!
"Marc, you don't have to worry about that. I know that you're all there for me whenever I need you. I love you. And also you work best as a team."
She's right.
Of course she is. Okay let's do this as a team.
And they do. Steven makes you tea, Marc cuddles you to sleep, Jake wakes you up to give you medicine and so on. You're back in full health in no time.
A week later, Steven comes from the museum with a fever. No surprise, of course, he spent most of the time with you in bed.
[The End]
hope you enjoyed <3
likes reblogs and comments are appreciated <3
671 notes · View notes