#but i'm trying to get back in the habit of being here so here i ammmmm
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indebted
dark!joel x f!reader. one shot.
main masterlist | ao3 | kofi
summary: you're having a bad day. one you think is getting better once a rough around the edges man comes to your rescue. you didn't expect it would takes such a sharp turn for the worse. first person pov reader. 9.2k words.
warnings: 18+ MDNI! DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT! NON CONSENUAL SEXUAL ACTS, READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION, pervy, sleazy, and foul mouthed joel. degradation, sexual favors, forced oral and piv, virgin reader, corruption, innocence, and daddy kinks featured. biiig ol' age gap (reader's age not mentioned other than "young" but i imagine her as 18-20 as she has a relatively immature attitude, imagining joel 50-55), this is not for everyone and that's okay. i'm not responsible for the content you consume.
a/n: i had some hormonal induced insanity and came up with this. i had a great time trying out a new pov for writing fic! enjoy him as much as i did, friends 🖤 and thanks @joelstummy for the amazing freaky beta work!
I’ll be the first person to admit now that what I’ve been doing is stupid. Dangerous. Idiotic. The list goes on. I can hear my father’s stern, militant voice in the back of my head, telling me as much. Except now he likely won’t get the chance to relish in it because I’m going to die here. Way out here where nobody will find my body, and I’ll be just another person that went missing in the QZ, never to be seen again. But this time, it’s not some sleazy FEDRA scheme and coverup or a smuggling deal gone wrong.
It’s utterly and completely my fault.
Sneaking out wasn’t meant to become a habit, but after the first few times, I lost the fear and adrenaline that had burned hot through my veins at those first steps of freedom. I craved it again, so I kept going further. And further. Away from civilization as I knew it, until the cluster of buildings known as the Quarantine Zone became a tiny speck in the distance. Out here was desolation, nothingness, only abandoned buildings to explore. The infected were another story, but I started to learn routes that helped me avoid encounters with them.
It helped clear my mind after a while, this newly found sense of adventure. All I’d ever known was a cage, a walled city that had become so mundane I felt my insides starting to rot from the listlessness of it all. My father was important - top in the rankings - I knew that, and it was all the more reason to keep me safely locked away while the city stirred with chatter of an uprising against FEDRA.
He never bothered to check on me much, anyways, making my little forays quite easy. Once I’d persuaded enough people with ration cards, they’d shown me the tunnel leading to freedom. Well, that tunnel, then another, a ladder to climb back up to the surface, and only then could I go through a precarious hole in a chain link fence. That was the smuggler’s route, they said, an easy ticket to getting in and out without being noticed.
I’d been abusing it, staying out for days at a time, never able to drink in enough of this quiet solitude that was of my own choosing, not my father’s. I couldn’t quite figure out what hole inside of me I was trying to fill, but I’d be damned if I stopped trying.
However, today seemed to be my last chance to try at all. His footsteps had been quiet - so quiet - approaching behind me. An old store, full of half decayed plushies, molded candies, and other adorable things from lives long put in the past, had called to me, distracted me. The arm around my throat, constricting, the other coming up to put a hand over my mouth. A dirty, putrid smell encompassing everything as I sputtered against him. This is it, I’d thought. What a waste.
I scream and fight against the strong hold he has on me, a nasty sneer right against my skin. “What’s some fresh meat like you doing waaaay out here, huh?” a dark voice rattles into my ear.
I scream behind his dirty palm in response, kicking my legs back at him. I should have learned more self defense, but who needs it when you’ve spent most of your life safely tucked away with your family name as your biggest protector?
“You smell good… real good…” The creep’s voice buzzes by me as he takes a deep breath in, making me shudder. One swift kick and I’m sure this is it, the one to knock him senseless and let me escape. He’s smart for how distracted he seems to be by my scent, and he’s one step ahead of me. My legs are kicked out from underneath me as I rear one back, and I fall to the ground, the man coming down with me to sit on my back, straddling my body in a fluid motion. He grips my hands behind my back, leaving me helpless in my fight, kicking and screaming. I’m ice and heat all at once, my body burning in a frozen blaze, my fight or flight quickly turning to fawn as his weight presses down on me.
“You can have anything in my backpack, anything! Please, let me go! I - I don’t want any trouble,” I choke out pathetically, hating how my voice comes out in shaky waves. This isn’t how to appeal to people like this, people who have lost their sense of humanity, evident by the way he’s now grinding himself down onto my jean clad asscheeks.
A laugh comes out of him that would haunt me as evil incarnate for the rest of my days if I wasn’t so sure that I was going to die at the hands of this man after he was done with me. “We both know I don’t give a fuck about any damn backpack of yours. I don’t want any trouble either, sweet cheeks, I just think you’d have a lot of fun with me and my friends. But mostly me,” he replies with the hint of a wink in his voice.
My stomach clenches, sickness rolling in that is only furthered as the man leans down, cloaking me with his large form. I can’t turn enough to see him, to even know what this violation of a man looks like, but his energy is beyond hideous as I catch a glimpse of his yellowing teeth in a grin before he pushes my head down to the cracked linoleum tiles. My hair tangled in his fingers, he holds me down hard, and I struggle to breathe as he crushes me beneath him.
“Now, are you gonna come easily, or do I need to do things the hard way? Either way is fine with me, for a fine piece of ass like this. In fact, I might prefer it the hard way, but we’d hate to ruin this pretty skin of yours, wouldn’t we?” He says slowly, pressing the cold blade of a knife to my throat.
“O-okay, okay,” I acquiesce, stopping my squirming, just needing a bit of room to breathe, my lungs heavy inside my chest. My panic only makes my chest tighter, even when the man leans back the tiniest bit. I had hoped that my sudden compliance would get that knife off my throat, but it hasn’t. “Just don’t hurt me… please…” I whimper.
He lets out a long, ragged sigh. “Afraid I can’t promise that.”
I’ve never felt fear like this, such certainty that I was about to be ruined, my life as I know it changing without a chance to even look back. I squeeze my eyes shut and brace for it, for anything he’s about to do next, finally accepting that there isn’t any appealing to scummy men in a scummy world. But nothing comes except for a muffled crack ringing through the air, and then a thud as the entire weight of my adversary falls on top of me, crushing. Something warm has splattered on my skin, my face, then starts to coat my jacket, seeping through. I shake violently, begging my body to catch a full breath under the weight of him.
Then as suddenly as it happened, it stops, the body yanked off of me and tossed to the side with ease. The deafening thud of his entire weight onto the ground is stark. I flip over and scramble backwards, grabbing the knife that had fallen from the man’s hand in his swift, final moment. Holding up a shaky hand, I grip the knife tightly, looking up to face a brutish, tall man with overgrown hair of chestnut and gray. A trim beard with the same coloring wraps around his tightly set jaw. He’s all wide shoulders, thick arms, broad chest, and my senses go on high alert again. His gun is practically still smoking as it hangs at his side, an active threat.
“Y’alright?” he drawls, thick and deep, echoing through the abandoned shop. One step closer to me has the knife practically flailing as I struggle to calm my hands, a strained hum alongside my shaky breathing the only sound I seem capable of making.
“Put that thing down,” he says calmly, almost exasperated. His stance slackens, one knee pushed out as he sizes me up. I’m likely the most miserable looking thing he’s seen in a while, I’m sure. “You’re harmless.”
“H-how do I know you’re not with him?” I blurt out.
My gruff savior lifts his brows incredulously. “That guy?” he asks, motioning impatiently to the dead body only a foot away. “Think I’d be puttin’ a bullet right in his skull if he was my best buddy?”
My eyes dance over him as I think. He has a point, and he did just save me from whatever debauched things that stranger’s mind had been conjuring up.
“Y-yeah, you have a point,” I finally say. He steps closer, and this time, I let him, putting the knife down. He motions with an authoritarian air for me to push it away, and I obey immediately, flinging it across the room.
“Poor fucker died with a hard on, didn’t he?” The man muses as his boots thud on the way over to the body, kicking it slightly as if to check, letting it roll back before turning his attention on me. “Now, are you usually this stupid, comin’ into hunter territory, or what?” he asks, reaching a hand down to me, presumably to help me up.
“I didn’t know…” I mumble, letting his hand hang there. He doesn’t snatch it back right away, although I can tell he wants to, that he’s already beyond exasperated by his day and the last thing he’d wanted was a damsel in distress like me. I hate that he’s proving all the things I’d been trying to disprove about myself by coming out on these solo trips into the great, big outside. I’m weak. Dependent. Needy. It makes my skin crawl with self loathing and frustration.
“Didn’t know, huh? So just clueless, then?” the man spits out, staring down at me with darkened eyes that make me turn my head away in shame. At my sullen silence, he seems to soften a little. “I’m Joel,” he says, an offering to go along with his outstretched hand.
I sigh, taking it and telling him my own name. I’m up on my feet, dusting myself off and looking at him shyly now. I don’t know what people are supposed to say when someone saves their life, so I just mumble, “Thank you.”
Joel snorts, nodding in acknowledgment as he crouches to pat down the body, seeming to come up short of anything interesting. “Don’t thank me yet,” he says, standing back to his full, towering height, glancing around with sharp eyes. “We should move.”
I might be as stupid as he says, because I wordlessly start to follow him towards the door. His hand stretches out behind him, open and inviting me in as he checks outside the door with a careful peek, his gun held tightly in the other. I stare down at it in disbelief. “C’mon, I don’t bite,” he sighs, that perpetual vexation in his tone again as he twitches his brows at me. “Need you close by. An’ it seems you have a tendency to go where you shouldn’t.”
My cheeks grow hot at the harsh truth of it, and I grasp his hand without any further objections, marveling for a moment at the way it envelops mine. All calloused and hard, mine soft and unused for labor of any kind.
“I’ve got a safehouse not too far from here.”
“A safehouse?”
“It’s already gettin’ dark. There ain’t no way we’re making it back to the QZ today, princess,” he retorts quickly, the pet name mocking on his tongue.
“How’d you know?” I ask softly, disappointment pressing in on my shoulders.
He chuckles out more of a snort, pulling me around a bend, slowly leaving behind the dangerous territory that I’d unknowingly encroached on. “You’re a FEDRA princess if I’ve ever seen one,” he tells me, and my heart sinks that I was so easy to read. I’d seen how capable this man Joel was, but damn was he was astute, more than I’d given him credit for.
I chew at my lip. “Fair enough,” I mumble under my breath, letting him take his well earned win. The longer I hang onto Joel’s hand, letting him expertly weave me through the barren streets, the safer I start to feel. He knows where he’s going, a practiced route he’s taken countless times, and it hits me then that this man is a smuggler. He has to be.
“Are you a smuggler?” I ask pointedly. “I’ve heard that people like that come in and out of the QZ.”
Joel falters for just a brief second, giving me a wily grin. “Look who’s readin’ who now,” he says with a dry chuckle. “Ain’t gonna run and tell your daddy, are you?”
I shake my head, pressing my lips together in a smile. “I can keep a secret.” In fact, I like keeping secrets from my father, hence the sneaking out, so Joel can count on me to never rat him out.
His amused grin in response lights a little flame akin to friendship inside of me. This grumpy old bastard could smile after all. “Just through here,” he says, letting the smile drop, taking a sharp left down a street just as a sprinkle of rain starts to fall on us. It’s a less urban area - more like a neighborhood - sprouted with apartment buildings and abandoned, vine covered cars. It’s my favorite thing about all the exploration I’ve been doing, seeing the way nature can reclaim anything and make it her own.
The cracked street below us makes me tread carefully, lagging behind as Joel’s hand tugs me along urgently. We turn down an alley, Joel whipping his head left to right before dragging me behind him, finally dropping my hand to open a door that leads right into a tiny lobby and a stairwell. He runs a hand through his damp hair, slicking it back some - a rather handsome look for him, now that I’m thinking about it. I try to ignore that thought as his voice booms through the empty room.
“Up,” he commands, gripping my hand again and leading us up the stairs.
My stomach sinks a little when he takes out a key, unlocking a padlock on one of the apartments numbered 405 and pushing the old, chipped door inwards. I have no reason not to trust Joel, he saved my life afterall, but I can’t shake the nerves I feel from being in an unfamiliar place with an unfamiliar man. It’s quiet here, likely nobody in the vicinity but the two of us.
“Home sweet home,” he grunts out, dropping his backpack and gun holster near the door and shrugging off his damp jacket, leaving him in a plain tee shirt that hugs his muscular frame. It’s a small, cramped apartment with a living room and kitchen directly next to it, a little window cut into the wall, peering in on the living room from above the stove. It looks as if it’s left exactly as it was years ago, full of furniture and clutter, only a vessel for Joel to use without making it his own at all. I peer past to see a small hallway I can only assume leads to a bedroom and bathroom.
“Know it ain’t the palace you’re probably used to, but we’ll be safe an’ dry here,” he say, and I roll my eyes behind his back. If Joel thinks that I live in a palace, he’s clearly misunderstood the state that the QZ is in. My father’s house is spacious, sure, but it’s just as dilapidated as the rest of the city. The only difference is the level of protection afforded to our homes.
He ambles into the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets with a clatter, then comes back moments later with an open can of beans and two forks. I’m still standing in the entryway, unsure of what to do with myself.
“Hungry?” he asks gruffly, and I shake my head, wide eyed. I’d lost my appetite the minute that man had grabbed me earlier, and I couldn’t seem to get it back. Joel shrugs, digging in with a messy forkful of from the can. “Your funeral,” he says, chewing.
Joel sinks down onto the couch with a tiny groan, setting down the can on the side table next to his armrest, giving the other cushion an expectant look. “Well, you gonna sit your ass on down an’ tell me why the hell I had to save it today, or what? Why the hell you’re wanderin’ around like it’s a free for all out there?”
I flinch slightly at his harsh tone, but gingerly step my way into the room, unzipping my jacket and shedding it. For the chill outside, the temperature inside the apartment is more comfortable than I’d expect, my skin welcoming the change. Joel eyes my thin tee shirt, and I feel a flash of heat sweep my skin before I feel the prickle of goosebumps, knowing my nipples are poking through the fabric. His eyes catch there before he promptly averts them.
I sit precariously next to Joel on the loveseat, pressed as far away as I can from him, not wanting to cramp his personal space. But he seems to have no problem with that anyways, his legs spread wide open in a comfortable stance, leaned back against the cushions. He pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes shut for a moment as he awaits my answer.
“I was… exploring,” I say simply, cringing at how ridiculous it sounds coming out of my mouth. Who leaves perfect safety to wander around in a dangerous world on purpose? For no other reason than curiosity and a sudden, rebellious sense of defiance?
His eyes snap open, head pulling up from the couch, turning my way. “Explorin’…” He mulls on the word, slowly licking his lips before pursing them. “You’re tellin’ me I had to save a FEDRA brat today ‘cause she was explorin’? You really are stupid. ‘Course you are, look how young y’are. Look how fuckin’... sheltered.” Joel throws his hands up, landing them on his thighs with a soft thud, sighing. “Can’t even blame ya.”
I pluck up every bit of courage I have, glaring at him with narrowed eyes. “Look, it was really nice of you to save me and everything, and I do thank you for it. I’m sorry if I messed up whatever… smuggling stuff you had going on today, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me… stupid.” The last word is quiet, mousy, and I turn my head down, eyes shining with unshed tears that I silently curse myself for. My father’s voice rings through my head - you stupid girl! - making me shudder.
Joel sucks at his teeth. “Hit a nerve, I see,” he says passively. “Alright, I’m sorry kiddo. I just mean, you’re puttin’ yourself at risk doin’ what you’re doin’, and it ain’t a smart idea. Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I sigh out, relaxing a little. “I just needed to get away.”
“From your dear old daddy?” he teases, picking up the can, shoveling several more bites into his mouth. I go silent, picking at a thread on the couch rather than answer him. “Ah, another nerve, I see. Daddy issues. Could’ve guessed that one.”
“I don’t have -”
“Sweetheart…” Joel interrupts, looking at me from under his brows, pulling his lip between his teeth, seeming to look at me in a fresh light. It sends my skin tingling, the way he eyes me, a glint in his stare. It seems to prove his point, the way a pet name from a middle aged man seems to immobilize me against my will. I want to slap the smug look off his face, but I have no grounds to do so, only grumbling quietly with my cheeks blazing in embarrassment. A prickle of something else works its way deep into my belly, something warm at how his scrutinizing eyes flick over my body, the lines in his face set, showing his age, his experience.
“Take a piece of advice from a man probably as old as your daddy, then. Trust me when I say that outside those walls ain’t the place to find what you’re lookin’ for. The sooner you let go of that notion, the better off you’ll be.”
Frustration blooms hot in my chest, overpowering whatever the hell that sudden, unwanted feeling was. I’m tired of people dictating what I can and can’t do, what I’m capable of. “People do it all the time - smugglers - you would know,” I retort. “I’ve been doing it for months. Never had a problem until today. It was just some bad luck.”
“Bad luck? Really? You’d be that man’s newest little cock sleeve if it weren’t for me savin’ your ass,” Joel growls, standing up off the couch. I wince at his vulgar language, the picture it paints in my mind of what life might have been like if Joel hadn’t happened to be in the right place at the right time.
“I - I know - I’m sorry,” I blurt out, feeling my hands start to go shaky. “Thank you, Joel, I really - I really do owe you. Everything.”
“Like I said, don’t thank me yet.” He steps over so that he’s in front of me, using his boot to part my legs, scooting them apart and standing between them. “Think I did all this out of the kindness of my heart, did you? Didn’t think that maybe I was after the same damn thing as buddy boy earlier?”
I’m like a fish out of water, the way my lips move with no sound coming out. “Joel…” I breathe out in warning, in questioning. I see his arms strain in his t-shirt, hands flexing open and closed.
“I can’t say the thought ain’t crossin’ my mind now. You are mighty pretty. And you do owe me a favor. One big ol’ gigantic favor, for savin’ your backside.” He brushes his fingers along his jeans, palming his crotch for a brief second before leaning forward, caging me in on the couch with hands on either side of me, pressing into the cushions. My heart hammers in my chest so loud I expect Joel can hear it, can feel the fear taking hold of me. He bares his teeth above me like a wild animal, and now I’m certain he can smell my fear too, that he thrives on it.
“You know what? Maybe you were bound to find what you were lookin’ for outside those walls. Maybe that’s what you needed, is it? Couldn’t find any love from daddy back home, so you wanted to find someone to turn you into their own personal little play thing. Poor baby just needed some attention, did she? Sad, really.”
My hands tremble, my words lost as I can only breathe in shaky little breaths, shaking my head violently. How can this god forsaken day keep getting worse?
“Please -” I mumble out, bringing a jittery hand up to my mouth. Joel slaps it away, gripping my chin harshly at first, inspecting me before his thumb brushes over my bottom lip. I’d think it was gentle, caring, even, if not for the nasty look spreading across his face, the grin that darkens it along with his eyes.
“Time to put this pretty thing to better use and show how grateful you are to ol’ daddy Joel,” he says, using his free hand to deftly unbuckle his belt, the jangling sound like a death knell, making my throat go dry. “Promise I’ll be much better than he would’ve been earlier. People say I’m… a generous lover.” His drawl is slow and calculated, voice deep with lust, the sly smirk turning to a triumphant grin as he chuckles, amusing himself.
He grips the top of my head, pushing me to slide down the couch cushions into a slump as I struggle, powerless against a man of his strength. He positions himself higher up to bring the giant denim bulge right in my view. I wince, trying to turn my head away as his zipper comes undone, his hand grasping deep into the fly of his jeans, yanking his cock out. When it springs free, I gasp as he lets it slap me in the face. Hot, throbbing, and massive, leaking a shiny bead of precum that had ended up somewhere on my cheek. I sit stunned and held in place by his rough hand.
The cold hard fact hits me that this is the first time I’m ever going to experience intimacy of any kind. Hell, I’ve only had one kiss before, and it was when I was ten years old, with a boy belonging to one of my father’s friends, a name I can’t even remember now. The first penis I’m ever seeing is right here, right now, in a context I have had zero control over. It’s thicker than I’d imagined one could be, softer too as I look at the skin of it. Veins run along the sides and bottom, all leading up to an imposing, angry pink head at the tip, practically bursting as it awaits me. It’s magnificent and terrifying at the same time, nothing like what I’d expected based on the half-assed health classes provided by schooling in the QZ. Sex has always had a shroud of mystery for me, and I never imagined that all those secrets, long awaited, would be uncovered like this. A dingy bedroom, a man likely almost three times my age, and me as an unwilling participant. Desperation swiftly grips my chest as I realize I actually have no clue what goes on behind closed doors between two people, and I have a feeling I’m about to find out in the crudest of ways.
The fearful innocence I know is about to be stolen from me causes tears to sting at my eyes, fat little droplets that instantly start to roll down my cheeks, leaking onto Joel’s large fingers still gripped around my chin. I start to struggle, my body seeming to catch up with my mind, loud warning sirens of DANGER! DANGER! finally blaring out in a panic. When I squirm, Joel plants one of his knees into my body, keeping himself balanced while still being able to hold me down.
“Don’t cry now, honey, it’ll only make him harder.” He sneers as he strokes his cock, slapping the head against my closed lips a few times. He wrenches my jaw down, forcing it open. “Nice ‘n wide for this big boy, there we go,” he says, not waiting a moment longer to barge his cock past the opening while he has it.
He groans loudly as he shoves several inches in right from the get go, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head. The hand that had been holding my jaw presses in on my shoulder, holding me in place. I’d have nowhere to go, anyways, with his knee on my thighs, his entire body caging me in, the cushions giving me no leeway to the way his cock is forcefully intruding, inch by inch down my throat. The taste is all consuming - a little salty, a little ripe, tasting like days of Joel’s old sweat, but it’s not completely bad, not what I’d have expected. It’s heady in a strange way, clouding my mind as I try to cope with the fullness in my mouth.
The next moment I sputter, my eyes popping open wide, flooded with tears as he hits the back of my throat. I try to gasp for air and I find that I can’t. This is torture of some form, it must be. Full panic follows, where I try to move, but every avenue is pinned down in some way by Joel’s massive body. I weakly flap at him with my hands but it barely even deters him from rocking his hips in and out, choking me again on the thrust inwards as the back of my throat tightens, gagging around his thick girth.
“Open up, relax your goddamn throat,” Joel hisses at me, keeping his cock pressed fully to the back of my throat, constricting any airflow I was hoping to have. I finally breathe shakily out of my nose when he pulls back just enough, only to slide it in slowly, his eyes carefully watching me. I glance up for the first time at him from below, hoping to find any shred of humanity he might have for me, but I’m met with an icy, dark gaze clouded with lust, power.
“Gonna fuck your face now, like the dumb little slut you are. This is what stupid girls get for wanderin’ around by themselves. This is what they ask for.” He punctuates the last words with a sharp thrust inwards, my entire body convulsing with the gag I sputter out around him, drool pooling around my stretched lips. I would whimper if I could, if I even had the air to do so.
Joel is relentless for the next few moments, rapid thrusts in and out of my mouth, my head held conveniently in place against the couch cushions for him. He groans deeply, his pleasure evident while I’m just trying to get my next breath in. I time them expertly, learning as I go, letting him continue to take from me to gain his own pleasure.
“That’s it, that’s right, you’re turnin’ into quite the good girl,” Joel mutters above me, rolling his hips with vigor and making me gag again. I can feel drool dribbling down my chin, my neck, landing on my chest, and it makes me feel ashamed, embarrassed, and a twinge of something else. I can’t tell as Joel grunts, pumping himself in and out of my gruesomely contorted jaw, if the fact that it’s something even remotely sexual has me feeling things I shouldn’t. My cheeks burn hot as my eyes continue to water - how much of it is crying and how much of it is just my body’s response to him hitting the back of my throat, I don’t know.
Then he surprises me by slowing down, languid strokes of his cock in and out with sloppy sounds, a soft hand landing on my head, stroking before bundling my hair in his fist tightly. “Knew you’d have such a filthy little mouth for daddy,” he coos, rolling his hips forward a little further, touching the back of my throat with his cock.
My body spasms a little when he keeps pushing, grumbling quiet groans of approval. My eyes squeeze shut, leaking out an onslaught of tears. I don’t want to see the aftermath if it ends up that it’s one gag too many and the inevitable happens. But to my surprise, he keeps slipping down, intruding on my throat. I try to keep my trembling body still, wanting to keep my throat relaxed, terrified of what might happen if I fight this. Can a person die this way? Could I really choke to death on this man’s dick?
“Jesus fuck. Lord have fuckin’ mercy…” Joel breathes out as he pushes even further. “Swallowin’ him down, aren’t ya? Feel me right in here, I bet.” I flinch when he touches his hand to the column of my throat, wrapping his fingers softly around the flesh. When he starts to retreat, the choking is back in a second, but Joel holds me by the throat, keeping my neck craned back, returning to the brutal way he’d been abusing my mouth. I groan and sputter and try to cough through all of it, my mouth stuffed full over and over again before I can get a breath in.
He’s relentless, and then it stops all at once, his cock popping out from between my lips with a wet, lewd sound. A stream of drool follows, a gush that dribbles down onto my already soaked shirt, and I cough violently, my hands flailing to clutch at my chest.
As soon as the pressure of Joel’s body lifts off of me, I’m scrambling to somewhere, anywhere else, my limbs stiff and achy, my jaw panging with a soreness I’ve never felt before. He stands in front of me, one hand shooting out to grab the collar of my shirt before I can even get fully off the couch, pulling me close.
“Does it look like you’re done showin’ your gratitude yet?” he growls out, gripping the back of my head and forcing me to look down at his cock, still standing at full attention, shiny and dripping with saliva. I swallow hard, the lump painful on the way down. Joel shakes my head for me, the burn at my scalp making me wince. He presses his hips flush with mine, forcing his erection against my thigh before slipping it between them. He leans in close, hot breath ghosting over my face before his lips brush mine.
“You do make a pretty cocksleeve, y’know. Suckin’ cock like a cheap whore, wonder if you take it the same way in your cunt.”
I whimper, shaking my head, the tears non-stop as they roll down my cheeks. “Please… don’t. You don’t have to do this…”
Joel scoffs. “If I put my hand down your pants to that pretty little snatch, tell me I wouldn’t find you wet right now.” He punctuates the words with a sharp pull on my scalp. I cry out, lip quivering, trying to shake my head. “Don’t lie t’me after I’ve been so, so generous t’you today.”
I’m spinning around, a dizzying sensation, Joel’s strong bicep brought across my chest as his other hand delves below my waistline, plunging deep, right to my cotton panties, bypassing the waistband of those, too. Without care, without any sense of boundaries, his fingers explore, slipping through my sensitive slit with ease. I yelp, squirming at the intrusion, and Joel’s deep chuckle behind me confirms what I already knew, what I was beyond confused by.
“Thought so,” he says gruffly, then he cups my entire mound, giving an almost comforting sensation, holding his hand tightly pressed to it. “Nothin’ to be upset about, we’re just havin’ a little fun, payin’ off your debt to dear ol’ Joel, okay?”
I shake my head. “I - I shouldn't be here… it shouldn’t be like this,” I whisper in a cracking voice, hanging my head low as the tears just keep coming, damn them.
Joel’s fingers start to move slowly, just starting with one, stroking gently up my lips, spreading my slickness around. I’m surprised that it feels good, a pleasant little tingle zipping right to my core that I quickly lament, hating myself for it. “What shouldn’t be like this, hm? That you shouldn’t like my cock down your throat? It’s perfectly natural, doll,” he says, somehow soft and condescending in the same breath.
“A-all of this,” I whimper, “Please, j-just let me go. I w-won’t say anything, I won’t do anything. I just…”
Joel quietly shushes me, letting his finger do the talking for a moment. It drags up to my clit, rubbing tiny, enticing little circles. I bite my lip hard, enough to taste copper, trying to suppress the moan climbing its way up from my chest.
“It’s okay, it’s okay that it feels good. It’s ‘sposed to. Good little sluts like you don’t know any better, don’t care what it is that’s gettin’ their panties wet. Desperate,” he growls, fingers sliding through the slick mess that’s now drooling onto the cotton. “Just relax, let it happen…” I feel his breath, hot on my ear, before he nibbles, biting down hard on the earlobe, tugging it with his teeth. It bursts out, the whimpering moan I’d been holding back, just as he pinches my clit at the same time as the bite.
He laughs. He has the nerve to laugh and it sends a shiver down my spine, my brain muddled and confused and turned on by the eroticism at play here. He soothes me by nuzzling my neck, taking a long, deep breath in. I squirm as Joel’s hand retreats, and I wonder for just a moment, a brief, all consuming moment, if maybe he’s seen reason. When his fingers find the buttons of my jeans, my heart plummets to depths previously unknown as he unbuttons them, pulling the zipper down slowly, the only sound in the room his harsh breathing right on my neck.
“Please, I gave you what you want already,” I beg once more, feeling it fall on deaf ears as Joel tugs my jeans down, revealing my pink cotton panties. They’re my favorite pair - were my favorite pair - a rare find in a world like this. Pretty pale pink with a nice lacy trim and a little bow at the front. Only now, they’d belong to Joel.
Joel clicks his tongue in approval of the sight, pulling his head back to peer at my underwear from the back before his hand grips my ass, jiggling it roughly. “Oh, you’re jus’not getting it, are you? You feel this?” he asks angrily, letting me feel the hard length of his cock pressed to my ass cheeks, threatening to slip between my thighs. “This means you didn’t give me nearly half of what I want yet. He’s still achin’ for ya, princess.”
I grit my teeth, hating the pet name, the way he’s using who I am to mock me. It’s a low blow. I hated everything to do with being associated with my father - I knew he wasn’t a good man - and I hated most that it was so obvious to a stranger which echelon of society I belonged to. If I was so important, where were they now, huh? I want to scream those words at him, but instead I just feel my legs tremble underneath me, my knees feeling like jelly as they almost give out on me.
“Please!” I struggle against his hold, but it only makes him grip my ass tighter, hard enough to bruise. “I-I’m a virgin,” I suddenly squeak out, unsure of why I say it other than some last ditch effort to deter him. My heart pounds as he stills, dead silent with his hand grasping my ass like it’s his next meal, like he owns it.
“Well ain’t it my lucky day. Shit, that’s why you were sputterin’ all over my damn cock, ain’t it?” he says as the epiphany dawns on him, laughing. My cheeks blaze hotter and hotter, hating that I’m even embarrassed at my lack of experience and skills, like I have some sick need to impress him. He notices my tension, my head hanging low as I cry new tears, and says, “Hey, hey, nothin’ to be ashamed for. In fact…” His hand fists in my underwear, tight and unrelenting. I feel his cock press against my ass again, harder than ever before it slips between my thighs. “Makes me awful excited,” he purrs, bringing his mouth to my ear again.
I only give him a timid whimper in reply, squeezing my eyes shut as I realize there is nothing I can do to stop this man. He thinks I’m a cheap whore, and he loves it. I’m a pure virgin, and he loves it even more.
He squeezes me tighter to his chest, my back starting to sweat through my thin tee shirt. “The hell were you savin’ yourself for anyways? Marriage? A sweet pussy like this?” At my silence, he cups my pussy hard, letting the dampness of my underwear soak into his palm. “Answer me!” he barks out.
“I - I wasn’t! I don’t know!” I cry out, trembling.
“Well,” he says, fisting my panties again, starting to pull them down. “M’honored you’d let me be your first, sweetheart,” he drawls, and I nearly scream at the insinuation. I’m not letting him do anything.
I start to put up more of a fight, useless against his thick arms holding me so tightly. Cool air touches my ass and the space between my thighs as he manages to shimmy my panties further down even in my struggle. I clamp my legs shut in defiance, roaring out a strained grunt as I keep trying to squirm out of his grasp. He huffs in anger, trying to subdue my writhing body before he pushes it towards the couch. I land hard, banging my knee on the hard edge that supports the cushion, wincing and trying to catch my breath. I’m practically in position for him already, ass pressed out towards him, on my hands and knees.
“Gonna make me do things the hard way, are you?” He scowls, his free hand fisting in my hair again, pulling me close. His breath is hot over my shoulder, the sensation vile against the skin of my cheek, stained with tears. “Been too long since I found a pretty virgin like you. An’ ruinin’ this perfect, pure little cunt is jus’ the cherry on top of a perfect day f’me.”
I feel his hard cock twitch against me, a reminder of what’s to come. The movements are quick for how bulky Joel’s body is, let alone his age, as he exchanges the hold across my chest for my wrists, bundling them behind my back. I cry out at the strain, the awkward angle he’d twisted them to, fighting him again until a hard smack lands on my ass. I scream through gritted teeth, not giving up the fight, but another thwap! rings out through the apartment, making me falter. My tender flesh screams at me in agony when he lands another spank, even harder this time, then another, until I’m crying unrelenting, fat tears.
With me rendered motionless, Joel presses down, bending me over, my balance tricky with my hands behind my back. My face nearly touches the couch, but I’m precariously held up by the wrists, the strain already making them ache. The warmth dripping between my thighs betrays me as my ass stings in residual little pulses, so raw and sore but spreading a pleasure through me that I’ve never known before.
I don’t have time to dwell on it before Joel is grasping one hand on my hip, notching himself at my entrance. “Promise you’re gonna like this, that you’ll never be able to think of anyone else’s cock but daddy Joel’s,” he spews gruffly in my ear before he thrusts hard, one swift motion to bury himself inside of me. I scream out, the searing pain between my thighs making me wonder if I’m being split open for good, if it’s possible that some things are just too big to fit in certain places of the body.
“Fuuuuuuck,” Joel hisses through his teeth, making the tiniest thrusting motions to ensure he’s buried deep. Every movement pierces me with a new sting as my body desperately tries to adjust, to accommodate the horrible, overwhelming intrusion. “You were not kiddin’, sweetheart. Tightest fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever been in.”
I sob, unable to speak, unable to move as Joel thrusts brutally from the get go, his hips snapping with force, crashing into mine hard enough to bruise. The lewd sounds we make disgust me, because I know I’m part of those sounds, my body enjoying the filthy things he’s saying, the way he’s taking me without remorse. He pulls himself out, clicking his tongue as he peers down between our bodies. “Christ, you are one sexy little bird. Poor little virgin bleedin’ on daddy’s cock.”
The thought horrifies me, making my stomach turn. “Please,” I cry out, my body rocking with the motions as he starts to fuck me again, the strain on my wrists as Joel uses them to help thrust himself inside of me starting to gnaw deeper into them. I’m like a ragdoll with the way he’s jerking me by my wrists, my body having no choice but to flail in time with the movements so that he can press himself deep on each cruel thrust inwards.
“You want more? You beggin’ already?” Joel grunts between his heavy breaths, sounding so cocky it makes me want to spin around and punch him. I settle for gritting my teeth instead, feeling my body slowly but surely melding into his. When Joel presses me down further, forcing an arch in my back, I whimper when his cock hits something sensitive, deep, primal. Fuck, is it something.
“Oh, that’s it. We got her now, don’t we?” he says from above, continuing to stroke his cock along that spot repeatedly. I feel myself losing my will to fight, hating the pleasure but feeling myself lean into it slightly, my hips pressing back to meet his nearly against my will. “You ever come before, sweetheart?” He leans in a little closer to ask the question, the pistoning of his hips slowing the slightest bit.
I refuse to answer, tears pooling in my eyes. I don’t want him to take this from me, I don’t want him to know anything about me. He jerks my wrists at the same time he slams his hips into me, and I whimper loudly, feeling the way he’s surely bruising my insides.
“If you ain’t figured it out yet, the rules are that you answer me when I’m askin’ you a question if you know what’s good for ya,” he spits out, and I shake my head, letting it hang limply.
“Use your words. Say ‘no, daddy’,” he says with sinister condescension, stroking his own ego.
“N-no… daddy…” I say, my tongue revolting against the words, bile climbing up my throat.
He moves his hand to my head, stroking carefully and softly. “Oh, that’s a shame. That’s a daaaamn shame. All pent up, y’are. But daddy will make it all better.” He sounds deranged, sick, like he truly believes that I’m thankful to him for what he’s doing to me. I can’t answer, my mouth gaping open just as he releases my wrists, letting me fall to the couch with a thud. My open mouth gets a mouthful of the cushions, making me sick over the fact that it’s probably full of god knows what due to its age and whatever things Joel seems to get up to in this apartment of his.
I blink as Joel grips tightly at my hips, wondering why he suddenly trusts my hands to be free, when it happens. He thrusts into that spot again, harsh and unforgiving, and I nearly see stars behind my eyes as the head of his cock punches against things I didn’t even know were there. That’s why. I’m incapacitated at this angle, brutally forced to enjoy the pleasure washing over my body as Joel takes from me, actually giving in return this time.
I bite my tongue hard, not wanting to give him any satisfaction for the tiny moans that are growing louder in my throat, desperate to be let out.
“Let me hear you, princess. Daddy doesn’t do with quiet girls. I can feel you clampin’ down on my cock, know you’re lovin’ how I use you up like you were meant for it.”
I shake my head in protest, but a strangled sound escapes past my tight lips when Joel slams into me harder than he has yet, puffing hard as he fucks me like a greedy animal. He chuckles through heavy breaths, little whispers of that’s it, come on, take it, flow freely from his nasty mouth.
I feel myself slip away, further gone from reality as the warmth spreads from my pelvis into my belly, coiling tight. Everything tingles, set on fire, the spot where Joel handles my hips with his fat fingers practically burning with a constant mix of pleasure and pain. I cry out when Joel’s cock pulls that feeling out from deep inside of me again, half a sob and half a moan as it crescendos, waves of pleasure crashing over me.
Joel’s grunts of approval, so brutish and debauched, sends a new wave of arousal through me. I tremble, eyes squeezed shut with my body completely out of my control, taken over by this boundless bliss. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before: heavenly warmth worlds above any of the pleasures I’ve known. This had to be what Joel was referring to, urging me towards, telling me he wanted to make me come. This had to be what I was missing out on all these years, hiding myself away. Was this the reason sex was so coveted, so sought after? Was this feeling… the reason he’s doing what he is to me right now?
It feels like it’s never ending, my body so rigid as it spasms yet pliant as he fucks into me harder and harder. I loathe the noises I’m making that intermingle with his as I squeeze my eyes shut, enjoying it.
“Fuck, fuck - that’s it - f-fuck knew you’d love it. Come on my cock, baby, that’s right.” Joel’s string of praises reach my ears as I come down from my high, limp and yielding to whatever it is he wants to do to me now. I have no fight - my bones turned to jelly, my body sore all over, my throat scratchy from the way he’d assaulted it earlier. I only have it in me to give the rest of myself over, whether I like it or not.
“S-so fuckin’ tight, lettin’ me take your virginity like a good little whore,” he punches out, pounding into my sensitive cunt like it’s saving his soul, like it’s the only thing he could ever care about. I’m on the precipice of coming again, my nerves still frayed and on edge from the last one. A smaller but still powerful climax takes over, my body shuddering and tight, milking every last second of the pleasure.
“Gonna blow my load into this pure little pussy, make it mine - fuck - gonna fill you up like the cocksleeve you are. P-probably never want to be without my fuckin’ load drippin’ out of you again. I-I’m close, fuck -” Joel rambles as he ruts his hips deep, one final thrust and a grunt, and I feel him stall, pulsing into me.
It’s all suddenly very still, an eerie quiet settling over the room. My entire body burns hot, the only thing keeping me from collapsing is Joel’s hands still anchored on my hips as he leaves his cock inside of me, plugging me up. I want to cry again at the sudden, overwhelming shame I feel, but I can’t give him the satisfaction. I can’t.
Joel pats my ass a few times, pulling out. I tremble hard, falling forward onto the couch without his hold, instantly curling in on myself. I resent the way I’d noticed how empty I felt the second he was gone, how cold my body was without his warmth pressed into it. I dare to peer up at the sick man who stands above me, catching his breath, watching just as the last bit of his softening cock gets tucked back into his jeans. He swipes a hand across his forehead, gathering sweat, staring down at me with a darkened expression, grinning cockily.
When he plops down on the couch next to me, picking up the can of beans he’d been eating before, my mouth hangs open in surprise at how casual he’s acting. I watch his face shine with sweat, his breathing still labored, but everything else about his attitude would indicate he didn’t just force himself on me.
I try to keep my expression neutral for my own safety as I feel something leak out of me, not even wanting to give him the smug satisfaction of having to confirm my suspicions about what it is. I do my best to position my body so he can’t see between my legs as I try to pull my underwear up from where they sit near my knees, my jeans following. Joel only gives me a knowing glance as he takes a bite, conscious of the fact that a part of him sits inside my now soiled underwear, and a part of me now sits inside of his soul.
He shoves the can my way and I shrink back at his sudden motion, not taking it from him. “Eat. I ain’t havin’ you all weak and despondent for the next time.”
I feel my heart sink down past my ass, my stomach plummeting along with it as nausea overtakes me, a dizzying sensation clouding my vision. He couldn’t have said what I think he did. I - I’d paid my debt, whatever it was he thought I owed him for saving me when I didn’t even ask him to. For saving me and then doing exactly what that man had planned to do anyways under the guise of a caring, noble rescuer.
“N-next time…?” I manage to make my mouth move, my throat to produce a sound, pushing the question out in a voice that doesn’t sound like my own.
“Know you said not to call you stupid but my house, my rules, an’ sweetheart…” He looks at me under his raised, expectant brows. “My stupid, stupid girl. Did you really think that would be enough? That I’d get an opportunity every man dreams of - an untouched, perfect pussy like yours, to keep all for m’self, and throw it all away?” He’s creeping closer as he speaks, shrouding me on the couch with his huge frame, caging in where I lay, my body wound as tightly as it can to itself to block whatever he’s thinking of doing next. “Now you don’t think daddy is that dumb to let you go knowin’ all that, do you?”
I sit stunned silent underneath him, wide eyes fixed in a tortured gaze on his rugged face, but his hand squeezing my thigh is warning enough for me to shake my head, stuttering out an answer. “N-no. No…” I whisper.
Two approving pats on my cheek send Joel slinking back slightly, his dark, unhinged eyes staring holes into me as they roam over my body. Despite nothing even visible - my chest hidden underneath my arms and legs clamped tightly - I feel violated, objectified.
Terror rips through my chest as reality settles in slowly but surely. I look at the man I’d trusted once, who’d shown himself to be a friend, or at the least an ally, currently feasting his eyes on me like I’m a product. Which now, I suppose I am. A whore. His whore.
“Now,” he says, licking his lips, that hungry gaze already returning, a bulge appearing in his jeans and stretching the fabric. “All I’ve got to do is decide just how long I’ll keep ya for.”
dividers by @/saradika-graphics!
#fic: indebted#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#dark!joel miller fanfiction#dark!joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller x f!reader#x reader#the last of us fanfiction#tlou fanfiction#dddne joel miller#dead dove joel miller
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Constant Companions Closeup #3: ROT FOR CLOUT
youtube
(also on bandcamp and spotify!)
WHAT'S going on guys, welcome back to another Constant Companions Closeup, the show where we take a DEEP DIVE into what makes these tunes tick! Last episode, we went aaaaaall the way there on Not Quite There, and today, we're making that liggity-line go up up up up up with ROT FOR CLOUT featuring VISUALEYES!! Before we get started, remember to SMASH that like button, SLAM subscribe, and FUCK the bell icon. This week's community challenge: leave your credit card info in the comments! Bet you won't!
(*cough*)
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I check my notifications way too fucking much. It's a habit I'm trying to curb, and to my credit, I am doing better lately, but being chemically predisposed to dopamine deficiencies has done a number on my ability to go five minutes without checking the funny glowing numbers on my phone. Naturally, I also very much seek more validation than I should from the opinions of strangers yadayadayada yeah that's what the song is about but none of that actually has to do with why I started writing this song in the first place.
Have you ever taken a flight with American Airlines?
This was after waking up at 4 in the morning to fly out of Houston thinking I'd be napping on a couch in Ohio by 2 pm at the latest.
I want to make one thing clear here, and that's that I made this bed for myself. Tucked the sheets in and all. You see, on the rare occasions I fly, I normally take Southwest. Southwest does not overbook flights like a lot of other airlines do, so it's a practice I am mostly unfamiliar with. So, when I received a notification on my phone promising genuinely ridiculous amounts of flight credit money in exchange for taking a slightly later flight, I thought - well, shit! That sounds nice!
This is how they trick you. I didn't really realize I'd been tricked until I was on my second flight of the day, sitting in a middle seat at the very back of the plane, heading from Dallas, a city I don't live in, to Washington, DC, a city I was not trying to get to, staring down the barrel of another flight I was destined to get on that had been delayed like two fucking hours.
I became the Joker. All I could do to remain sane was write a song about it. This is how ROT FOR CLOUT came to be.
I guess the moral of the story is this: Don't go to Ohio. And to answer your question,
Yes I am
Not really
No
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This is a complete sidenote but I want to mention it here: I'm genuinely overjoyed at the amount of people excitedly talking about my songwriting or the intention behind my lyrics. For a long time, it really felt like lyricism was the last thing people cared about from me, while it was always the thing I wanted to take pride in the most... So genuinely, thank you everyone for caring!! Every single fire emoji people have put next to a line I've written has extended my lifespan by multiple years
There's a brief little moment where the song's chords leave the key, doing a really stereotypically jazzy 2-5 movement, and it's one of my favorite parts of the entire song. I'm not really a music theory buff or anything, and I'm certainly not formally trained, but I've always been very passionate about more complicated harmony in otherwise poppy and accessible contexts - bo en's album pale machine really rewrote my brain when I first heard it.
On that note, there are microtones in the vocal melody - During the chorus, some of the rapidly repeated words move up in quarter tones! Possibly the simplest way I could've included microtonality, but I'm genuinely afraid if I learn more than what I already know about it I'll be lost to the darkness.
Obviously, the work of Sasuke Haraguchi was a massive influence on this song, particularly the song Igaku. I think basically everyone on the entire planet has picked up on that at this point, but I do also wanna point out some other songs that were on my mind at the time! (two for three on these posts mentioning louis cole now)
I'd also like to take a moment to spotlight the vocal samples on this! They previously appeared on エビチャーハン!, and they've honestly become some of my favorite samples to throw in things. They're also just a fucking goldmine sincerely
Finally, HUGE thanks to Visualeyes for the delightful synth solo on this!! I had put out a call on Twitter looking for instrumentalists, genuinely originally envisioning a super jazzy piano solo, but their synth playing genuinely brought the whole song together perfectly!
That's about it for this song - though again, if there are any more questions people have, I'd be happy to answer them in the replies to this post or elsewhere!! (*ahem*) THAT'S gonna do it for today's video, folks! Feel free to leave a like, comment, hit the subscribe button for more and click the bell so you don't miss any new videos. Tomorrow? I Wish That I Could Fall. it hurts.
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Im not a fan of every argument made here on either side, so first I'll get a few things out of the way;
1, that abuse victims often go on to be abusers themselves if they don't put in the work necessary to heal from their own abuse, that's what people are talking about when they refer to the CYCLE of abuse. To deny that is... Also uncomfortable. Being a victim of abuse does not make you exempt from abusing other people. 2, I wish we'd stop equating toxic with abusive because there is a difference. 3, i don't think autistic coding is really a fair defense of said toxic traits I'm gonna be real. There's nothing wrong with headcanons and projection but just to focus on what actually happened in the series without using headcanon to excuse harmful behavior. I don't know what traits are being referred to as "autistic coded" here so honestly I'm not gonna touch that with a ten foot pole and just focus on what we see;
Its hard for people to accept, but abuse does not happen on accident. Abuse is an intentional choice one makes. And over all, no, Ford isn't abusive. He, throughout the series and due to a combination of his self-centeredness and being a victim of abuse (hell, his self-centeredness was weaponized against him as part of the abuse) was absolutely toxic for most of the time we've seen him.
The argument that he abused Fiddleford is so stupid I'm not even going to acknowledge it. The thing with Stan is, he frankly wasn't around him enough to actually abuse him. A one time event is not abuse. A single fight is not abuse. Abuse is long and drawn out and, as I said earlier, intentional. And, like what was already pointed out, Ford was in a bad state. He'd reached the point of Bill going fully mask off, so to speak, and the abuse now being at it's worst. He was fully isolated and sleep deprived and it made him crazy. Yes, his unwillingness to destroy the journals was deeply selfish and another mark of how self-centered he is. It's the definition of irrational. But, once again, he wasn't in a spot where he could think rationally. (Granted, even if he was, I still don't think he would've been willing to destroy the journals because his self importance and self centeredness is one of his biggest flaws and an important part of his character)
The closest Ford ever comes to being abusive is, yes, with dipper. He starts telling him a lot of the same things we know Bill told him at the start of their partnership; you're special, we need each other, these other people are only holding you back. Nobody understands you like I do. When Dipper expresses concern for Mabel, Ford is immediately dismissive. He looks at Dipper and all he sees is himself, and all he sees in Mabel is Stan. He is the one who pushed that dichotomy, because he really couldn't think outside of himself.
His greatest flaw is that he's self centered and self obsessed. But the thing is, is that he learns his lesson. It takes literal apocalypse to get there, but he does learn and he does reflect and he does apologize and try to do better. He course corrects. Gravity falls, ultimately, is about family bonds and breaking the cycle of abuse. Ford almost continued that cycle with Dipper, but he stopped before any permanent damage could be done, both to their relationship, and to Dipper and Mabels. He fixed his relationship with Stan.
He did in fact have abusive tendencies and toxic traits but ultimately he put in the work to fix them and be better. Ford is a well written and well balanced character. He displays how someone even with good intentions can unintentionally fall back into cruel and toxic habits, and can start repeating the abuse they were put through. He also shows that you can come back from that. That starting down that path doesn't mean you have to stay there. That it's possible to heal and get better.
None of what I'm saying is an indictment of Ford's character. The opposite: he is complex and well written and imperfect, and I love him and his character arc. He could've been so easily made into an irredeemable villain, a no good bastard who's just horrible and abusive. He had all those pieces laid out. But the choice and skill to actually have him go through the motions of falling into abusive tendencies and then getting better is amazing on Alex Hirsch's part, and a testament to his ability to write deep and complex characters.
(also this is just kind of my own aside but the use of "autistic-coded" as like an excuse for how a character acts is really annoying to me for a number of reasons? For one, just off the bat, it's an attempt to make your headcanon sound more canon than it is, but by nature of being a headcanon, it's not really a fair or valid argument here. Second, there are ways to make a legitimate argument and analysis of a characters actions in canon and debate criticisms of their actions without saying "they're autism coded so actually you must hate autistic people", like it's okay, you're allowed to make a legitimate argument. Also, "character did shitty thing because they're autistic" isn't the win you think it is, because let's be real, you're either implying that they have no autonomy over their actions because of their autism, or that you think autism makes people shitty or toxic, neither of which is the win you think it is. Ironically lack of media literacy applies in both cases here, just for different reasons. Okay side rant over, just wanted to throw that out there because holy hell it's something that is used so much in fandom and it gets grating after a while.)
The tldr here is that Ford isn't an abuser. He was abused, he had toxic and abusive traits, but he put in the work to heal and better himself. He's by no means perfect and that's okay, he's a good character, and he's actually trying to be better.
Today in "I hate autistic-coded abuse victims", this shitty take.
Ford did not abuse Stan. He did not abuse Fiddleford. He did not try to drive a wedge in Dipper and Mabel's relationship (he was doing what he thought was best for Dipper and thought Mabel would be fine).
Just admit you hate autistic people and have no compassion for abuse victims. And admit you have no media literacy.
Also, calling a canonical abuse victim an abuser is...uncomfortable, to say the least. Especially with how you're just making him out to be abusive for...not handling personal interactions perfectly. You're demonizing autistic traits. And you need to research how abuse can effect people.
(Also, I know Ford's not perfect. But you don't seem to know that he's flawed but ultimately a good person. You just want a "perfect victim" when it comes to abuse victims, and it's obvious)
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((I'm gonna try to be around a little bit today, so let me know if you want me to send memes your way!!!
This goes for people I'm already writing with AND anyone I haven't had a chance to write with yet, by the way <3))
#ooc.#((I'm still just sticking to Rogue's blog for the moment. I need to get back into the habit of being here in general before I start hopping#between blogs again.#The intent was to be able to go between this and Cass's blog by this week or next but#GUESS WHO'S STUCK WORKING BOTH SHIFTS EVERY NIGHT AGAIN BECAUSE I DARED GET BACK INTO WRITING?????????#So she's gonna have to wait. Hopefully the guy we're covering for will come back soon but he's having some serious#medical issues so I think he's out the rest of the year. Someone on first shift is also out the rest of the year with health issues#which means that shift is also a TON more stressful now.#BUT I'll try to be here on Sundays and every other Saturday (pay week Saturdays are for grocery shopping and such#so I'm usually gone most of the day then and then get back in time to prep for game nights).#Also got my first tattoo a few weeks ago and I'm starting work on the first of 2 SW arm bands this Friday afternoon.#Only mentioning it because I'm excited about it. I've wanted this for literally like 8 years and just never had the money / time to do it!)
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bridesmaid has gone home. drafts (hopefully) resume tomorrow. but feel free to click the heart for a little MJ IN YOUR INBOX in the interim ?
#might be memes. might be something original. kinda depends on where the wind takes her muse#but i'm trying to get back in the habit of being here so here i ammmmm#º ✧ 。 i’m still out but i’ll grab some stuff at the store ooc shit
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one of these days i'm going to write up all that i've changed from azzarello's bullshit era and the one (1) piece i've kept from milligan (and also changed) and the only thing currently stopping me is that it is going to be so, so inside-baseball incomprehensible. and i almost never want to go reading/screencapping azzarello and milligan to add references but i Want to add references.
canon is goop, just know that we continue to ride the bus down "hellblazer ended at #250 and looks like swiss cheese before that" street.
#( ooc. ) OUT OF CIGS.#i'm doing page maintenance before i fuck off to work rip it's got me thinking#anyway i think i said WAY back on this blog that a side goal of mine is to make hellblazer lore accessible to non-comic readers where i can#bc it's such a Heavy comic & i love it so much & i always felt Terrible recommending it to people only for them to be disgusted#and like. @ past me that particular goal is NOT as easy as you thought it would be lmao#esp because i have a habit of getting VERY detail-oriented when it comes to talking about hellblazer i think#but by GOD it's still a goal. i can put in some motherfucking references here and there when i talk about The Lore#like. azzarello's writing style never translates well for me in synopsis bc he Loves to put the audience in the outside perspective#where we are bystanders/with the rest of the bystanders to constantine's actions and not to his motivations/inner monologue#and i HATE that. hellblazer has ALWAYS been about what this guy has going on underneath the masked exterior#all the things you can't say out loud when you're queer and working class trying to survive in 70s-80s-90s england#but that you FEEL with your WHOLE fucking chest. how that feeling drives you to enjoy little rebellions wherever you can get them#(also azzarello just fucking Sucks LMAO but i'm talking style rn)#so i end up relying on frusin's art to tell the story a little more bc i think he understands the Theatre of constantine's public persona#and when that theatre is Absent then it's really REALLY noticeable. so frusin keeps me in it most of the time#and if i'm digging into frusin art then i'm Going to want to compare it to older panels bc i like body language consistency#milligan on the other hand has NOTHING to save his sorry ass bc his writing is drop-jaw fucking terrible AND the artist seems to like it#but the loss of john's thumb being tied to his mental health (ignoring the bullshit with shade) has always felt. important to me somehow id#anyway MUCH thinking about my favorite loser on this about-to-be-annoying day shdjksd he has been done so dirty#hellblazer brain go brrrr
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“i’m not the bad guy you think i am”
“i got a boat that can get us off the island… we gotta get out of here, it’s better if we work together”
“they’re going to find john b and your sister” “sucks for them, that’s good for us tho”
“i told you we just had to work together”
“i can give you a ride out, drop you wherever, somewhere safe”
“i know your friends and my sister are on the island, i’m not helping them, i can’t trust them okay… i’ll give you a ride out but not them”
“i mean i always liked you kie, you’re at least half kook”
+
“i just lose control in moments like that, i’m trying to get better” kiara nodding along and her small “okay” as he explains himself
and her “oh god” and teary eyes when he starts slapping himself
HOW is this canon we were fed a full course meal 😭
okay anon you did it-- this delicious assortment of canon dialogue is the straw that broke the camel's back bc now i've got a new fic in the works directly based off of the line “i can give you a ride out, drop you wherever, somewhere safe”
or, the one where sarah was right and ward/rafe are the ones after them and rafe accidentally kidnaps kiara instead of sarah and uses her as extortion >:)
#and also the “im not the bad guy you think i am” line..... did i not have that in chap 3 of bad habit??#bc i remember writing something like that bc of the darkling and felt rafe was angsty enough to say some shit like that#feeling so happy with canon rn#living life loving life <3#anyway for the new fic (no ETA at all rn) it'd be kiara being taken back to Guadeloupe#and forced proximity (the greatest trope ever imo) where she's trying to get away but there's literally no way to and rafe is all#"???? wtf are u tryin to do ur safe here???#and kiara is very much Not for that and is always like “they're gonna come for me”#and he's an absolute dick and is very much “hm sure how sweet”#ANYWAY#it'd be a morally grey kiara which i'm gonna need to roll up my sleeves to do but the way i'm seeing it its totally possible#absolute carnage of them getting involved in some dark ass underbelly of illegal markets for the cross#i need to figure out how long it's gonna be first and work with that#reluctant allies ultimately#enemies with benefits#asks#riara
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local man discovers he's gotten into the habit of using DBT techniques without actually being taught them because at some point he realised that the things we get the urge to do when we have strong emotions often aren't healthy and that he doesn't like how he feels afterwards so he started noticing when that was happening and going "fuck that shit" and doing the opposite instead
#personal#thoughts#Lucy post#talking to 🍬 about various stuff we do because of our social anxiety and what are probably undiagnosed BPD symptoms#and we realised he's gotten himself into the habit of paying attention to how his emotions affect his judgement#and trying to take a step back when he's experiencing an emotion that he knows gives us the urge to do stuff that's not healthy for us#and he said he felt bad about having those emotions and urges to do unhealthy stuff#at which point I was like ''okay but you're choosing not to act on that and to take a step back and do something healthier instead#which is what actually matters here and is also something that takes a hell of a lot of self-awareness and self-control''#this is shit they teach you in therapy that's difficult specifically because you're going against your brain's instincts for a situation#and we were never taught how to do it so you've just fucking taught yourself to do it instead#without actually knowing it's a specific technique that has a name#I was aware of it but had never actually looked at the instructions properly because when I stumbled across it#it was at a point where being told to go against what my emotions made me want to do felt invalidating and upsetting#I've literally just pieced together that ''oh right that's what that is and how it's supposed to work#and how it's meant to feel when you do it right''#anyway all this is to say that I keep being impressed with the amount of progress 🍬's made on learning healthy coping mechanisms#including things I could never seem to get the hang of when I was fronting more and handling more stuff#and I'm really proud of him and 🦋 and everyone else who's been handling stuff within the system and keeping things running#but also nobody in here seems to realise how much progress they've made with anything until someone else points it out#I just realised I should tag this as#happy posting#because I'm talking about stuff that's going well and where we've actually made a lot of progress
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♚— I managed to get a bit of free time on the weekends from training, but since I haven't gotten my official schedule yet, I don't know when I'll be for sure free.
So, I'll get to and queue my replies for the week(s. Hopefully). I'll still be delayed until I find a really good pattern to stick with in regards to life-hobby-work balances, plus everything else I need to do these next 8 months.
Roleplaying is going to be a pretty low priority for me and everything will be thrown in the queue. From my private Multi-muse account to this one, everything will be SLOW. I am trying not to burn myself out too much since I need to save energy for September as well.
Big thank you to those who are waiting patiently for my reply. I know it's been a while, but I'm trying to find a better pattern. It's just going to take a while.
#OutofGeminga#I am. tired.#I live so far away from the workplace that I need to sleep early and wake up at asscrack o'clock.#So if I'm spotty or more absent then usual it's because I'm trying to figure out how to time manage again.#After 5 years of remote work I need to go back into the habit of setting up priorities.#Especially since this job WILL take a bite out of me physically and mentally.#All in all... I'm just here to write at the most. I love typing and this is the only outlet for that.#So. If you want to RP or start a thread with me#You have to let me know ahead of Sunday (atm).#With that said my drafts are enormous so let me get to that#Thank you to those who are patiently waiting for my reply. I'm sorry that it's going to keep being inconsistent from here on out.
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how to start reading again
from someone who was a voracious reader until high school and is now getting back into it in her twenties.
start with an old favourite. even though it felt a little silly, i re-read the harry potter series one christmas and it wiped away my worry that i wasn't capable of reading anymore. they are long books, but i was still able to get completely immersed and to read just as fast as i had years and years ago.
don't be afraid of "easier" books. before high school i was reading the french existentialists, but when getting back into reading, i picked up lucinda riley and sally rooney. not my favourite authors by far, but easier to read while not being totally terrible. i needed to remind myself that only choosing classics would not make me a better or smarter person. if a book requires a slower pace of reading to be understood, it's easier to just drop it, which is exactly what i wanted to avoid at first.
go for essays and short stories. no need to explain this one: the shorter the whole, the less daunting it is. i definitely avoided all books over 350 pages at first and stuck to essay collections until i suddenly devoured donna tartt's goldfinch.
remember it's okay not to finish. i was one of those people who finished every book they started, but not anymore! if i pick up a book at the library and after a few chapters realise i'd rather not read it, i just return it. (another good reason to use your local library! no money spent on books you might end up disliking.)
analyse — or don't. some people enjoy reading more when they take notes or really stop to think about the contents. for me, at first, it was more important to build the habit of reading, and the thought of analysing what i read felt daunting. once i let go of that expectation, i realised i naturally analyse and process what i read anyway.
read when you would usually use your phone. just as i did when i was a child, i try to read when eating, in the bathroom, on public transport, right before sleeping. i even read when i walk, because that's normally a time i stare at my screen anyway. those few pages you read when you brush your teeth and wait for a friend very quickly stack up.
finish the chapter. if you have time, try to finish the part you're reading before closing the book. usually i find i actually don't want to stop reading once i get to the end of a chapter — and if i do, it feels like a good place to pick up again later.
try different languages. i was quickly approaching a reading slump towards the end of my exchange year, until i realised i had only had access to books in english and that, despite my fluency, i was tired of the language. so as soon as i got back home i started picking up books in my native tongue, which made reading feel much easier and more fun again! after some nine months, i'm starting to read in english again without it feeling like a huge task.
forget what's popular. i thought social media would be a fun way to find interesting books to read, but i quickly grew frustrated after hating every single book i picked up on some influencer's recommendation. it's certainly more time-consuming to find new books on your own, but this way i don't despise every novel i pick up.
remember it isn't about quantity. the online book community's endless posts about reading 150 books each year or 6 books in a single day easily make us feel like we're slow, bad readers, but here's the thing: it does not matter at all how many books you read or what your reading pace is. we all lead different lives, just be proud of yourself for reading at all!
stop stressing about it. we all know why reading is important, and since the pandemic reading has become an even more popular hobby than it was before (which is wonderful!). however, there's no need to force yourself to be "a reader". pick up a book every now and then and keep reading if you enjoy it, but not reading regularly doesn't make you any less of a good person. i find the pressure to become "a person who reads" or to rediscover my inner bookworm only distances me from the very act of reading.
#louisa-gc#academia#studyblr#aesthetic#book#books#reading#read#advice#help#university#study#uni#library#bibliophile#it girl#that girl#habits#booktok#booktube#bookstagram
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When they call you clingy, so you distance yourself | Hyung Line
Warnings: Cursing
Pt2, Pt3 Maknaeline
(X)
BANGCHAN |
You walked into Chan’s studio, quietly shutting the door behind you, as to not startle him.
“Hey Chris, can we talk for a second?”
You watched as your boyfriend of a year and a half continued to type away, not acknowledging your question.
“Chris? Did you hear me?”
“Yes I heard you. I just didn't answer."
"Well, it would be nice for a little acknowledgment, I asked if we could talk." You state politely. You understood that Chan was stressed, but you believed it was basic courtesy to at least acknowledge someone - let alone your significant other - when they asked you a question.
"Well, I'm kind of busy at the moment."
"I understand it will only take two minutes ba-"
“Dammit Y/N! I'm busy right now can't you see?" He snaps. Turning towards you and showing you the screen of his laptop.
You open your mouth to speak and tell him just why you needed to talk to him at this very second but he interrupted you.
"When we first started dating, I get that you told me you were clingy. I also get that I told you I liked clingy. But my god, Y/N you're not just clingy you're fucking obsessive. And always at the wrong times! You want space when I actually have time. Yet you decide to stroll in here trying to start a damn conversation when you can clearly see I'm trying to play damage control from a fucking dumbass trainee thinking it was funny to mess with my tracks. I'm already stressed as fuck about that, yet I have you breathing down my neck like some obsessive stalker. Like for five minutes just leave me alone!"
You stiffened at Chan’s tone. It was very rare that Chan would ever raise his voice. He managed his frustrations very well and was aware of how sensitive you were so he was always careful about confrontation.
He turned around and had his back hunched over his laptop as he typed and clicked away furiously, unaware of the tears that were quickly springing to your eyes. You were frozen in place, your heart beating uncontrollably.
It took a minute before you were even able to take a breath.
You stood there long enough for Felix to come bursting through the door to come update Chan about something unimportant to the task at hand. The same task that he had snapped at you for interrupting.
And you think that what hurt most. The way the frown on his face was lessened when talking to the younger male and his cute chuckle even popped out once or twice.
You finally were able to pull yourself out of the studio, leaving behind the coat you had absentmindedly placed down out of habit when you had come in and opted to take your purse.
The air was brisk and had that dry smell it always gained before it snowed.
Your apartment was close to the studio, a 25-minute walk at most so you always opted to take a stroll when visiting Chan, but you were on a tight schedule so within a minute you were in a taxi heading home.
And just as quickly you were back in a taxi heading to the airport.
You knew it was petty of you to mute Chris's notifications. But the fact that he snapped at you was just the tip of the iceberg. You knew that once he calmed down, he would immediately be filled with guilt. And you would rather not have your phone being blown up by multiple people at once.
Are you headed to the airport?
You responded to your brother's message with a thumbs up and turned on your DND before the screen darkened with a click.
You glanced at your watch and sighed.
You'd be on a plane heading home in less than an hour and weren't even able to kiss Chris goodbye.
(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)
MINHO |
"You're clingy as hell." Minho mumbled under his breath, thinking you wouldn't hear. But oh did you hear.
"Lee Minho what did you just say?"
He let out a sharp breath and looked up from his phone. "I called you clingy." He stated boldly, his voice even yet loud enough to be heard by Hyunjin and Han who quickly scurried away to the other half of the suite.
"And what about me is so clingy?"
Minho chuckled sarcastically. "Oh I don't Y/N, do you want me to recap the entire day for you?"
You had joined the kids on their trip to Paris. While they had been here numerous times, this was your first time traveling here and due to the anxiety of being in a new place, you attached yourself to Minho's hip since it was your first day here.
You didn't intend to be overbearing, nor did you intend to be up his ass for the entire week and a half long trip, but you wanted to get used to the surroundings and you felt most comfortable doing that with your boyfriend. Yesterday being your first day you spent the entirety of it with Minho. You had noticed quickly how his excitement had turned into unease and straight up irritation after a while. It was a weird phase of emotions considering how happy he had been but you had amounted it to you accidentally taking a wrong turn and missing a fireworks show Minho had been talking about all day. You had come into his room early this morning to apologize, but instead were meant by an overly irritable boyfriend.
"It's because I've never been here before! Did you expect me to not to ask you to show me around?"
"Y/N there is a difference between a tour guide and a fucking babysitter. You pulled me along to everywhere you wanted to go. I had plans yesterday! Certain things that I was hoping to do. I made an entire schedule and everything, but just because you wouldn't agree to be toured around the city by Chan you ruined all of that. Then you spent the entire day just pulling me along. If you wanted someone to give you an overly extensive run down of everything and keep you company, why don't you ask someone closer to your personality like Jisung or Jeongin? I'm sure they'd love talking of the ears of all the local with you. Shit, you'd probably become some street show you three."
You sucked in your cheeks and took a breath.
"That was uncalled for, you have no need to bring anyone else into this discussion."
Minho chuckled sarcastically.
"Discussion? What is there to discuss? The amount of time I want you to leave me alone? Hell, why not the entire fucking trip?" He spat out.
"You're an ass Minho."
"Yeah well at least I'm not a pain in someone else's."
You felt your bottom lip start to tremble and your chin shake.
Don't cry. You'll just be a crybaby.
"And here come the water works." He groans as if he read your mind, getting up from his bed and heading towards the room where the rest of the guys were probably trying to keep occupied as to not hear your arguing.
"So what? You're just gonna walk away?" You call out.
"YOU'RE PROVING MY FUCKING POINT!" He shouted, finally at his breaking point. "It was a mistake asking you to come on this trip." He said turning around one final time and opening the door to the other side of the suite. "I never should have asked."
"Well you know what, maybe this trip isn't the only thing you should have never asked about. And I'm starting to realize that maybe it's not the only thing I never should have said yes to." You spit out turning on your heel and slamming the door.
You furiously wiped at the tears that were sticking to your face and threw your hood up over your head as you headed to your room to contemplate what would become of you two now.
(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)
CHANGBIN |
It was irritating to you the way Changbin was interacting with the female barista. And the irritation must have shown on your face because when he handed you your iced latte, he raised an eyebrow.
"Is everything okay jagiya?"
You sighed as you guys stepped out the shop and started making your way back towards the studio. Changbin had been really busy the last couple of weeks with preparing for a special release and collabing with a few other groups, so you hadn't been able to be around your boyfriend as often as you'd like. So you had agreed on meeting during his lunch every other day, even if the times varied.
"You just seemed really flirty with that barista." You mumbled. "It was obvious she was into you too. I mean who wouldn't you're the Seo Changbin." You giggled elbowing him playfully. You pulled out your phone to make sure there was enough time for you to walk Changbin back or if you would have to take an Uber. You nodded at the time and swiped away a few notifications from Minho.
You expected Changbin to laugh or reassure you like he usually did when you brought up his flirty habits. Instead he snorted into his cup as he took a sip of the dark liquid.
"Jealous much?"
You laughed a little. "Why would I be jealous? She isn't the one who has been dating you for three years." You said hip bumping him, but he stepped away from you rather brashly.
"Well it seems like you are because you have to bring up me and my so called flirting ever single time I talk to anyone of the female species."
"Bin it was just a joke-"
"Well I'm not joking when I say you're acting clingy as fuck." His tone was way off and he seemed to realize the shit he was setting himself up to be put in because he stopped mid stride and turned around to you with an agitated sigh.
"Do you...I don't know want to run that by me again?" You ask, firming your stance.
"God, Y/N, don't make this a big thing. Its just been a day-"
"No, no. You don't get to use that excuse Changbin. We're supposed to talk through these things. You don't just get to say something like that and then act like you didn't."
You guys stood at an impasse for a moment until he spoke up rolling his eyes.
"Fine. I think you're being clingy." He said simple. "Jealousy falls under clinginess and I think you're being jealous so therefore you are being clingy."
"Changbin it was a fucking joke! You've never reacted this way before so I don't know why you're acting this way now!"
Changbin just rolled his eyes and continued in the direction of the studio.
"Seo Changbin, where are you going?"
"To work Y/N. You know, maybe if you actually picked up a more stable job then you wouldn't have as much time to be up my ass and exaggerating about things that aren't things you should be butt hurt about."
You stiffened at Changbin's low blow and took a breath.
"We need to fix this before it gets out of hand." You grit out.
"Well maybe I don't want to fix this." He looked at his watch. "I'm late now so why don't you just drink your latte and go home to cool off."
The condescending voice Changbin was using sent you over the edge. You were angry to the point of tears.
You chucked your nearly full iced latte at him. It hit his chest with a thud, and the coffee made a rather pretty pattern on his pristine white shirt.
"Maybe that'll help you cool yourself off. Fuck you Changbin." You pushed past him and waved down the closest taxi.
Your phone was buzzing in your pocket and you pulled it out.
"Hey, are you and Changbin on your way back? I need to go over some choreography and we're filming tiktoks right when he gets back."
You did the best you could to keep your voice level when responding to Minho.
"He's on his way back now. But you need to get him a new shirt because being the dumbass he is he likes to make a mess of perfectly good things."
(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)
HYUNJIN|
You were never very happy having to attend events with Hyunjin. It wasn't that you didn't like spending time with him, or in turn spending time with the guys events.
It was just you felt insecure being the plus one of someone like Hyunjin.
It was no secret to anyone how those who knew and perceived Hwang Hyunjin's existence thought of him.
He had a beauty that rivaled any masterpiece that had ever been painted. The elegance of a tiger lily with the face of an angel.
You knew of many people who would jump at the opportunity to be with Hyunjin. For the past 11 months you had been with him you had your fair share of run ins with crazy fans or pop stars of the like.
Once your relationship had gone public a month ago you found yourself being compared to the female idols in the industry even more than you has expected.
It seemed to be the general consensus that not many people viewed you as "beautiful enough" to be with someone like Hyunjin.
You didn't take it to heart because you decided to have the outlook of nobody being beautiful enough for Hyunjin - let alone the people writing those hateful comments considering they were most likely delusional pre-teens who made the most out of pocket edits and were in desperate need of some grass groping.
But after a month it was starting to get to you slightly. Especially as you had come across one of those edits, since you had been tagged in it after someone found your personal account.
The amount of hate messages were starting to get to change your perception on things. Because the more you were hearing it the more you were seeing and believeing it.
"Jinnie do you think that my shoulders look weird in this dress?" You walked into your living room where Hyunjin was sitting. He looked up and a bright smile showed on his face.
"I think you look beautiful jagiya!" He said standing up. He looked other worldly in his tuxedo.
"And my hair?"
"Perfect." He said placing a kiss on your forehead. "We have to leave now if we want to make it on time. Or else I would look at you all night."
By the time you had been at the event for thirty minutes you already wanted to go home. You felt like the ugliest person there, and you couldn't help but feel the eyes of many people on you.
Ever couple of minutes you found yourself looking for Hyunjin's reassurance.
"Does my stomach look bloated?"
"Is my makeup fine?"
"Can you see the pimple on my chin?"
"Are my nails okay?"
"Do I look ugly?"
"Should I make my hair look like hers next time?
Hyunjin was reassuring you, but after the third or fourth questioning of the night his answers became generic.
When he was talking to an idol and his significant other you couldn't help but start comparing yourself to her. She was so pretty.
"Hyunjin should I run home and change?" You asked quietly in English. You were doing your best to learn Korean so it would be easier to communicate with Hyunjin's parents when the time came that your families were to get closer. You wanted it to be a surprise when the time came, because you knew how much Hyunjin wanted you to get along with his family, when when the time came to meet them - he wanted to get along with your family.
"You're girlfriend is pretty clingy isn't she?" The other idol asked in his native language, assuming you didn't speak korean because of your fluency in english.
"Yeah she is extremely clingy." Hyunjin replied. "Might be the clingiest girl I've ever met."
You looked at the other idols girlfriend and she made a face, and then laughed.
"You can tell she is a foreigner by the way she acts. No one is ever as clingy as foreign partners." She joked and all three of them were laughing.
Well there is the hundredth insecurity to list.
You looked at them and tried to control your facial expressions.
"We were just telling him that you are so adorable." The girl told you.
You chuckled uncomfortably and looked over at Hyunjin. He smiled and blinked cutely at you.
You smiled back as Hyunjin turned towards the couple again to continue his conversation.
And all you could do was smile back as you pretended to not understand the words Hyunjin didn’t even realize hurt you.
#skz imagines#skz reactions#stray kids reaction#skz stay#skz x reader#stray kids#skz angst#lee minho#skz minho#stray kids minho#christopher bang#skz bang chan#hwang hyunjin#seo changbin#skz changbin#skz hyunjin#skz hyunjin angst#skz bangchan angst#Skz changbin angst#Skz lee know angst#@dontwannaexist @adrisiwiris @ddiidi @minsungsthirdwheel @keshet2k @ray0magdalene @maaatyroshka @hardladytale @dreammix88 @yaorzu-blog..#@periodpoops @parisanmorovati @theodorenottgf @vixensss @lovesunshinefelix @conwunder @bo-fairykim @ka0ila @imperfectlyperfectprincess..#@dollschan @stay-tiny-things @hyunjins-dimples @lisunny2 @katexstay @chuuyaobsessed @abovenyx#@jiminssluttyminx#@pearl-monkeys#@viola-celine#@wave2ivy#@keshet2k#@dreammix88#@mysticalhumano
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would you be up to do bff remus with no boundaries?? i think that would be an interesting dynamic
maybe like after a full moon and she just like fully gives him a shower, or something where he’s just completely naked and the boys are so confused at what’s happening
"Arm up, Rem," You hum, but your fingers pry at his pale, scarred skin before he can even begin moving a muscle.
You lift his bicep away from his side, bringing the lathered loofa in your hand to swipe through the curve of his armpit. Suds slide down his sides and you hear him hiss as they mingle with his still-healing cuts and scrapes, but there's nothing to be done except cleaning them before they can be dressed.
"Easy, easy," You rub a hand over his back in a soothing circle that carefully avoids his injuries, "Just gotta get 'em clean, then we can dress them. You can sleep on your stomach, that'll help the ones on your back. How'd you even get scratches on your back?"
"It's all the ladies I occupy my time with," Remus drawls, but his pain is evident in the weakness of his voice, "Women love werewolves."
When you don't answer, leaving an purposefully awkward silence behind that swirls with the steam from the shower, Remus sighs, "Got all scratched up from the tree branches out there."
You drag the loofa from his side to his back, carefully ghosting over the caked dirt around his wounds. His knuckles turn white as he clenches his fists, but when he tries drawing one into his mouth to bite at it you take it in your own free hand.
"No biting. That's reserved for your better half."
"Are you talking about Sirius, or the wolf? Sirius bites me," Remus grumbles, and- speak of the devil, there's feet pounding obnoxiously up the stairs and towards the dorms.
"Moony, we've got all the chocolate we could carry," Sirius informs him, and there's the sound of wrapped goods being piled on Remus's comforter before James and Sirius step into the doorway of the bathroom.
James lets out an 'ooh' and turns away with a grimace when he sees you kneeled beside Remus's naked form beneath the spray of water, but Sirius stands stock-still, frozen by some mix of intrigue and horror.
"Uh, are we interrupting something?"
"Just a bath," You smile kindly at them, scrubbing gently at Remus's neck, "He has trouble getting his back sometimes."
"Sometimes- have you two done this before?"
"After every moon." You nod helpfully when Remus merely ducks his head to rest between his knees, "You two are usually either asleep or trying to get grass out of your pelts."
There's something green in Sirius's hair that proves the two were unsuccessful this time around.
"Oh. I'm sorry, Moony, I didn't know you had a caregiver," Sirius snickers, "Does she help you put your panties on too?"
"Don't let him get to you, dove," Remus murmurs, his eyes slipping shut as the warm water seeps into his skin and heals an ancient ache in his bones, "He's just mad he'll never get to take yours off. They're a real pretty pattern, y'know," Remus glances up at Sirius with the ghost of a smirk on his face, muffled by pain but persistent all the same, "Shame she's not interested in showing 'em to you."
"You've seen her panties, mate?" James cuts in, peering over Sirius's shoulder, "What are you two?"
"Friends," You shrug, "But it's stuffy in here at night, and my sleeping pants get too warm."
"You're telling me all the times you two have slept over in here all snuggled up in his bed, that you've not had any pants on?"
"Well I don't make it a habit to strip in his bed," You scoff, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn grass stain on the pale plane of his hip, "But I can promise you that my pants are never gonna be on your floor, either one of you."
"Oh please, we wouldn't dream of stealing Moony's girl," Sirius claps James on the shoulder, "But whaddya think about that, mate? Strippin' down to cuddle in bed together? They seem to think it's a friendly endeavor."
"I typically only ditch my pants for Lily, Padfoot," James informs Sirius with a sympathetic smile, "But I'll ask her if I can bring my dog to her dorm tomorrow night. You can sleep at our feet."
Sirius begins valiantly arguing for a spot higher up on the bed, every dog's hardest battle to fight, but you're no longer interested in their antics or the noise they're producing. You reach out your foot to kick at the door, and it swings shut with a satisfying click.
"Thanks, love." Remus groans, his face squished between his knees, "They were givin' me a headache."
"They always give you a headache," You dig your thumbs into a tense spot on his back and he twitches beneath you with a hum of appreciation, "We should get a flat together without them. They can be the feral deer and dog that live outside our cottage."
"We'll have to call animal control" Remus grins wryly against the rounded bend of his knee as you lean forwards to wash beneath his thighs, "How strong are their strongest tranquilizer darts?"
#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin scenario#remus lupin oneshot#remus lupin one-shot#remus lupin one shot#remus lupin drabble#remus lupin dialogue#remus lupin blurb#remus lupin headcanons#remus lupin headcanon#remus lupin hc#remus lupin hcs#remus lupin fanfiction#remus lupin fanfic#remus lupin fic#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin x y/n#remus lupin x you
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I like to imagine an MC with ~Trauma~ (because same) that is just completely oblivious to how much all the other characters will back-flip and change entire habits for them. Like, I'm envisioning:
MC is just casually hanging out like usual when some of the brothers break out fighting in the house...like usual, and the shouting and sounds of things breaking causes them to tear up and panic a bit. Although they don't really notice that for the next month, none of them get into fights and when they start to do so, they end up taking it outside.
Or maybe MC avoiding the angels for a good while and no one can figure out why till they mention that they're not used to people treating them like that and it's very unnatural. "At least being around demons feels more normal." And none of the characters take this well. Even Diavolo has to sit down and stare at a wall for a while and reevaluate his whole outlook on things. Simeon tries sounding a bit more "rough" for a while and it flops terribly.
Or even:
MC: Oh, there you guys are, I was wondering where some of you went.
*A few of the brothers lift their head as the human enters the living room.*
MC: Is there something going on? Why are you all here?
Mammon: Sittin' here watchin' the races.
Satan: Reading.
Lucifer: Taking the time to catch up on old Devildom infrastructure.
Levi: Playing the newest Hell Souls!
MC: *A bit confused.* So you're all doing your own thing...in the living room?
Satan: That's typically what the living room is for.
MC: But...doesn't that make you uncomfortable?
*All of them realize they've never really seen MC come out of their room unless invited otherwise.*
Lucifer: *Physically vibrating in his seat trying to hold back the "Take Them Under Your Wing" urge he's started to experience at least once a week now.*
I just...listen I know they're demons but they comfort they would bring...
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me nightbringer#obey me headcanons#obey me imagines#tw implied trauma
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Princess Backpack | LN4 (SM AU!)
pairing: lando norris x biker!reader (they/she pronouns!)
summary: an f1 driver and a biker finally take their crushes off of social media
warning: minor suggestive if you squint
FC: none!
a/n: for @norrisleclercf1 as a treat for passing your exam!
yourusername tagged serpents_unite
liked by yourbestfriend, serpents_unite, and 1.1m others
yourusername late night rides are the best rides @ serpents_unite
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user204 YES MORE BIKING CONTENT
user73 WE ARE SOOOO!!!
yourbestfriend QUEEEEN!!!!
↳ yourusername right back at you 😉
user402 THE WHIIIIITE BIKE!!! UGH SO HOOOOT 😫
user49 WAR IS OVER WE ARE BACK!!!!
landonorris
liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, oscarpiastri and 1.3m others
landonorris it's race weekend so have some throwbacks 😉
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carlossainz55 please tell me you were careful
↳ landonorris of course
user694 YESSSSSSS
user025 UGGGGH SO FIIIIIINE 😫
user739 it's criminal these are throwback photos and this is the FIRST time I'm seeing them cause GOD DAMN 🥵🥵
oscarpiastri you forgot to post when you almost fell off
↳ landonorris hey oscar, HUSH! ↳ carlossain55 HE WHAT? ↳ landonorris NOTHING!!!
yourusername oh to be that car or under the car but remove the car--
landonorris liked this comment ↳ user597 YOU'RE SO RIGHT ↳ user973 wish this was twitter so i could retweet this ↳ user024 not lando liking the og comment ↳ yourusername HE WHAT? OH MY GOD I HAVE TO GO INTO HIDING
yourusername
liked by yourbestfriend, landonorris, and 839,205 others
yourusername The choke hold this sport has all for a silly British McLaren driver 😫
view all 506 comments
user20 OMG! You watch F1?!
↳ yourusername I do!
user256 What sport is this?
↳ yourusername Formula one! ↳ user256 interesting! Is it free in the US? ↳ yourusername Outside the three American circuits on ESPN, sadly no. You can pay for F1TV for all the fun perks but you should totally NOT look the many sites to pirate it for free. DON'T do that 😉 ↳ user256 good 📝 to 📝 know
yourbestfriend ME AND YOU BOTH
↳ yourusername it's horrible. we should go for a ride ↳ yourbestfriend PLEASE!!!
user39 God this season has been so SILLY 😭
landonorris sorry? lol
↳ yourusername AOPJFOIEA HA IT'S FINE ↳ landonorris oh good 😉
yourusername
liked by landonorris, yourbestfriend, serpents_unite, and 1.3m others
yourusername everyone meet Shelly ☺️ still sucks I have no backpack 🙄 backpack applications are opened
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user024 SHELLY IS SO PRETTY UGGGH 😫
user694 the photoshoot is about to fucking SLAP I JUST KNOW IT
yourbestfriend AM I CHOPPED LIVER TO YOU?!
↳ yourusername NO BUT YOU'RE BUSY RIGHT NOW 😔 when will my wife return from war? ↳ yourbestfriend so my darling 🫡
user495 OH TO BE YOUR BACKPACK!!!!
user053 I would KILL to be your backpack
landonorris are applications still open?
yourusername liked this comment ↳ yourusername i mean...yeah 🫣 ↳ landonorris where do I sign up? ↳ user035 OH??? 👀👀👀 ↳ user347 who is trying to WOO OUR BIKER?? ↳ yourbestfriend 😏
landonorris tagged yourusername
liked by yourusername, maxverstappen, carlossainz55, oscarpiastri, and 1.5m others
landonorris i am certified passenger backpack now 😚🥰
comments on this post has been limited
carlossainz55 amigo you stress me out
↳ landonorris I AM BEING SAFE ↳ yourusername little offended you think i am unsafe driver ↳ carlossainz55 no no i have seen your videos. you are a safe driver. muppet here has a habit of getting hurt no matter what ↳ landonorris CARLOS!!! SHUT UP!!! PLEASE AND THANK YOU!!!
maxverstappen oh god here we go
↳ landonorris NOT YOU TOO MAX 😔
yourbestfriend hurt them, and I run you over 😇
↳ landonorris wasn't planning on it but message received ↳ yourbestfriend good! ↳ yourusername THATS MY WIFE 🗣️🗣️ ↳ yourbestfriend YOU KNOW IT!!
yourusername you do make a cute backpack ☺️☺️
↳ landonorris you know it babe 😉 ↳ carlossainz55 BABE? ↳ maxverstappen you got a PARTNER? ↳ yourusername guess cat's out of the bag now.. ↳ landonorris haha yeah...well look at the time! Gotta run!
#starlight library presents;#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 smau#f1 social media au#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#ln4 x reader#ln4 imagine#ln4 social media au#ln4 sm au#lando norris social media au#lando norris sm au#startlight library navigation
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how about Jason with the prompt "text me when you get home"? the one time they forget/fall asleep before sending the text and Jay loses hid mind. rushes over expecting them to be dead but they passed out on the couch as soon as they got home
really superbly SCRUMPTIOUS prompt Aud. I love protective jaybird 🥰‼️ thanks for sending something in 🫶
jason todd x gn!reader. worried protective snuggly jason. no warnings really, ya boy is just paranoid and madly in love with you 💓
request something! I rb all fics to @sanguinelibrary
****
As soon as you get out of your last class of the day, your phone rings.
You answer it, wedging the phone between your ear and shoulder as you fish in your bag for a couple of bills. You're already walking to the train station.
"Hi, snookie bear," you say into the phone, slightly delirious with hunger and sleep deprivation.
Jason snorts on the other end. "That's a new one. Hey, baby. Y'heading home?"
"Indeed I am."
"Need a ride?"
You wait and listen. Eventually, you hear the sounds of hitting and grunting in the background. You roll your eyes—only Jason would be in the middle of a fight and then ask if you need a ride home.
"No, I'm okay. It's not dark yet. Plus you sound busy."
"I'm never too busy for you," he says immediately. "And it's gonna get dark in an hour. Are you sure—"
"Yes, Jay," you say gently. "I'm sure. Don't worry about me. I'm going straight home."
You're already at the station. There's a good amount of people, students and workers alike. The university is in a relatively okay part of town, especially during the day. You're not worried. It's not like you traipse through Crime Alley on your downtime.
"Okay." Jason takes a deep breath. "Just—just be careful. Text me when you get home."
You note the hint of worry in his tone. Maybe this week has been particularly saturated with crime. Jason tends to get a little overbearing about your safety when he's had a tough week. You know he had go down to Blüdhaven and help his brother—with what specifically, you don't know.
Most of the time, you're sure you don't want to know.
"I always do," you say. The train pulls up to the station. "Ooh, train's here! I'll talk to you later. I'm thinking of ordering takeout. Too tired to cook."
"Okay, sweetheart. Be safe. Love you. Lock your door."
You roll your eyes fondly. "Yes, Jay. Love you too. Bye."
You hang up as you step onto the train. You pull your headphones out of your bag and shut your brain off during the ride. By the time you get off the train, you've lost hope that you'll be doing any work tonight. You're absolutely wiped out after three back-to-back classes.
It's still light when you get home. You lock the door after you get in, the habit ingrained into you, and dump your bag onto the couch.
Takeout is a no-go. You're hungry now and about thirty seconds away from passing out on the couch.
You change into your home clothes, eat a granola bar, and call it a day. You'll eat more later.
You turn off your phone to bar any annoying notifications and fall into bed, eyes closing immediately.
****
The sound of your deadbolt being teared off its chain wakes you up. You flinch and jump awake, trying to blink through sleep. Your mouth is dry from how hard you slept, and your eyesight is slightly blurry from the sudden flood of moisture.
Your bedroom door swings open, and suddenly you're pulled into warm, heavily muscled arms. You hug back on instinct; you'd know the feel of your boyfriend anywhere.
"Jay, h—"
"You didn't text," he says, voice shaking. "You said you would. I was—I thought you were—"
You tense, guilt knocking into you.
"Shit. Jason, I'm so sorry. I meant to, I was just so tired..."
Jason pulls back to look at you, hands still on your shoulders. His expression is stern.
"I'm gonna pick you up from now on. When are your late days?"
"Jay, no, GCU is across town. You can't possibly pick me up three days a week. That's too much! What about patrol?"
"Somebody else is out at this time," he says stonily. "Crime Alley can wait an hour while I get you home."
His eyes blaze green, a side effect of the Pit. You can tell he's putting every effort into keeping a lid on the worry and fear and anger over your silence.
"Jason." You cup his face. "Honey, I'm safe. I'm sorry I didn't text you. I'm sorry I worried you. But your adrenaline is spiked right now, Jay. Everything feels magnified. I don't need to be picked up. I was perfectly safe coming home. Okay?"
He shakes his head, holding your wrists. "Anything could've happened. I was so—fuck, baby, I was so scared. I-I checked the station footage and the traffic cams, and I didn't see you after you cut through the park, and I thought—I was sure you'd—"
Jason pulls your arms around his neck and buries his face into your shoulder. He supports you by the backs of your thighs, tugging you into his lap. Then he clings tight.
"Oh, Jay," you murmur, petting his curls. "I'm alright. This end of Gotham isn't so bad. And I know you'd have found me even if something had happened. But nothing did."
"Can't lose you," he chokes out.
"You won't lose me, honey," you say. "You keep me safe."
He trembles in your embrace. You kiss the shell of his ear and continue to pet his hair.
"Let me pick you up tomorrow, at least," he pleads. "We'll get dumplings at that place you like. You barely ate anything when you came home."
"Okay, Jay," you say, because you know he needs that reassurance. He won't relax without it. "That sounds good."
You keep stroking his hair. "Y'wanna order in now?"
"In a minute."
Jason lays you both down on the bed. He throws a leg over yours and pulls you into his chest. It's now that you see just how much tension is locked in his shoulders. He's exhausted.
"Jus' wanna hold you for a bit," he says, lips resting on your shoulder.
He's drowsy, the adrenaline finally ebbing. You close your eyes and snuggle into his arms.
"You can hold me for as long as you want," you say, threading your fingers with his. "I'm not going anywhere."
#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#jason todd x y/n#jason todd fanfiction#red hood x reader#red hood x you#red hood fanfiction#batman fanfiction#dc fanfiction#inbox#blurb
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"𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐎 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐘" 𝐏𝐓 𝟐
read part 1 here!
pairing: kuroo x reader & bokuto x reader
genre: hurt/comfort
content: the boys call you clingy but they don’t mean it
a/n: hello ahhh it's been awhile since i've posted but i'm trying to get back into the habit of writing again! someone in my inbox had requested me to add bokuto to this list so i tried my best but i hope you all enjoyed this and feel free to stop by my inbox to leave a comment, tell me your thoughts, or just lmk how it's going hehe :,)
kuroo tetsuro
"i'm home," a mumble echoed out into the empty living room.
at the sound of the door opening, you make your way out of your shared bedroom to greet your overworked boyfriend, kuroo.
"hi baby," you replied with a tired smile on your features.
the door closes and kuroo slides off his slacks, loosens his tie, runs his fingers through his hair, and sighs in exhaustion.
"hey."
"have you eaten dinner yet?" you start to ramble. " i can warm up dinner and we could maybe share a meal together?"
"we haven't spent much time together in a while so you know.. i was just thinking... we could do something small together?"
you continue to ramble about how you spent all evening trying a new recipe you saw on tiktok that really fascinated you.
but kuroo is not having it.
all he wants to do is just go to bed and forget the past couple shitty days he's had at work. today, especially, was stressful considering how nothing had gone his way and the higher ups just wouldn’t stop giving him a hard time.
he kept his frustration, tiredness, anger all bottled up for the past couple days and they were all about to boil out.
on top of that, your constant rambling isn't helping. you keep talking and talking and talking and his mind is beginning to get cloudy and his anger is about to boil over.
his voice rises and he finally speaks, "god y/n.. can you just shut the fuck up and stop being all up in my space? you're so fucking clingy just leave me alone."
oh.
you mouth shuts up mid sentence and you're looking down at your feet, too embarrassed to even look him in the eye after hearing his true feelings.
"sorry, i just wanted to spend some time and talk and relax with you..." your voice goes quiet. "you've been out really late for the past couple days so i was just hoping-"
however, kuroo's outburst isn't over yet. if anything, your little comment voicing your concerns seems to have make him a bit more upset.
"yeah, i've been out late because of how suffocating it is here at home with you. god, it's like you just can't take a fucking hint! just leave me the fuck alone!" he says and your eyes go a bit glassy.
"r-right," you say as you're turning around so he doesn't see the tears forming in your eyes. "sorry, i'll respect your wishes and give you your space."
seeing your hunched figure walking away brought him back to his senses.
what the fuck did i just say to them? oh my god.
"y/n wait i'm sorry-" he begins but is cut off.
"kuroo, i think you've said enough tonight."
the sound of his last name coming out of your mouth leaves a bitter taste in his mouth and he knows he's fucked up immensely. the door to the bedroom closes, indicating that you're clocking out for the night and you can't deal with this conversation any bit longer.
kuroo sits himself on the couch with his head in his hands, shaking his head.
what the hell did i just say to them? it's not even their fault... i just... how the hell do i make it up to them?
kuroo walks to the door and places three subtle knocks on the door, begging for permission to enter. he's greeted with no acknowledgement or response.
he turns the knob and to his surprise it opens. there, he sees you fast alseep in your comforter in a fetal-like position. he goes into the closet, changes into his pajamas, and immediately climbs into bed.
he brings you close to his side of the bed, specifically putting your head on his chest. he begins to stroke your hair and places gentle kisses on your head, mumbling soft "i'm sorry's" and "i love you's."
he's praying to whatever deity out there that this would blow over by tomorrow morning or something.
but kuroo wakes up the next morning to his worst nightmare: you're not in bed with him. he feels his blood run cold and he's running the worst case scenarios in his head.
he rushes out of the bedroom to see that you're nowhere in the apartment. he sees a bright colored post-it note stuck on to the fridge with a note scribbled in your handwriting.
"i'm staying at a friend's house for the next couple of days. i just need time to think for a bit. there's some leftovers from last night in the fridge so make sure you eat those.
love u always, y/n"
kuroo's hands shake as he's holding your post-it note.
of course, they'd leave. i treated them like shit and hurt them so badly of course they want to leave. but even after everything, they still love me… i don’t deserve them.
kuroo begins to spiral and the next couple of days aren't any easy for him.
every attempt at texting or calling you has lead to no response. he goes to sleep without you next to him, holding back tears every time. every morning without fail, he pats the vacancy next to him in hopes that you'll be there but to his demise, every time, you're not. work feels even more lethargic than usual. before, he used to look forward to coming home to you but now you're not even at home so what's the point in even trying. counting down the hours until he gets to leave his cubicle has become futile.
i just really want them back. please come back home.
but when he comes home from a pain achingly long day of work, he doesn't find you and his mood plummets even more.
that is until one day, kuroo is able to leave work early where he comes home and hears the familiar noise of the coffee maker brewing. his eyes shoot up from his slacks to look over at the kitchen where he sees you in all your beauty, fidgeting with the knobs on the coffee machine. your eyes both lock and you immediately look away.
kuroo thought you were gone for good. and the fact that you were only a couple feet away from him made his heart swell and his eyes water. there's so much to say but his not a single word is escaping his mouth.
"you want some coffee? i just started a new batch," you finally say to fill up the silence of the room.
he gulps, "sure yeah."
you grab a coffee cup and pour him a fresh cup of coffee and slide it to him across the kitchen counter, avoiding getting too close to him.
too nervous to even touch his drink, he begins to address the elephant in the room, "y/n, i'm so sorry for what i said that night. i had no right to speak to you in the manner."
"it's okay," you say in a curt manner. "i get it."
he shakes his head and tries to get closer to you to convey his feelings but is stopped when he sees you take a step back. his heart cracks.
"no it's not okay sweetheart. i've been so busy with work and i just got super overwhelmed with everything and-"
"kuroo, you know you don't have to make any excuses right?" you interrupt his train of thought.
he's confused now. "excuses? y/n what are you even talking about- "
"just end it with me already... i know you want to," you say, looking down at the fresh cup of coffee in your hands. "you made that very clear."
his world freezes.
the world becomes completely silent.
his mouth is slightly open, caught off guard. he doesn't know what to say.
however, you interpret his silence as him putting down the excuses finally and admitting that he doesn't want to put effort into this relationship with you anymore.
hell, he doesn’t even want this relationship with you anymore.
"right, if you won't i will so it's easier for the both of us. i think we should-"
"don't you dare finish that fucking sentence," he moves close to you all of a sudden and his familiar lingering cheap cologne smell takes up your senses. the gears begin to click in his head before you can respond to him.
kuroo's arms envelop you in his embrace. "i want you. only you. i'm sorry i made you think otherwise."
the tears you've been holding back for the past couple minutes standing in front of him overflow and you feel like the world is about to end.
you push kuroo off you slightly. "i know you've been busy with work and i just wanted to spend some time with you. i never meant to come off as clingy but clearly you thought so so-"
"i'm just a complete douche,” he interrupts. “you were trying to help me out and make me feel better and i was so caught up with work, i couldn't appreciate that."
"i never want to ever make you feel that way again. you never deserved to hear any of that from me and everything i said couldn't be far from the truth. your presence has never been a bother and if anything, coming home to you is the best part of my day.”
“i shouldn't have let my emotions get the best of me and i'm so sorry that it did and that i hurt you in the process. i hate that i’m the reason behind your tears and i’ll do everything to make it up to you to show you how much i love you."
the tears from your eyes continue to flow and he delicately wipes every single one from your eyes kissing your cheek every time without fail.
"are you sure you don’t find me suffocating? you said that you hated being home with me though so i just thought-" you start to say.
"i will spend my entire life reassuring you that it isn’t true. i promise you are never suffocating me and your presence never fails to make me feel better on a shitty day. i will do anything to regain your trust and faith in me,” he adamantly speaks with his hands in yours.
hearing his determined resolve, the tears flow even more.
"i love you so much, tetsu."
"i love you too baby," he smiles and delicately kisses your lips. "now let's go out. how do you feel about going out for dinner? i’ve got a lot of making up to you to do."
"i'll never say no to that."
bokuto koutaro
the msby jackals lost 2-0 sets and the entire team was taking the loss hard but no one as hard as bokuto.
"bokuto-san, what do you think went wrong today's game?" an interviewer asks with his notepad out, scribbling notes.
"er, uh, well, today was just a rough day and i had a tough time keeping up with the opponent's plays today... it just was not a good day."
"i have one more question," the interviewer asks.
"go ahead," he gruffs out.
"you are known for your infamous line shots especially during deciding moments of the game. you missed multiple of these shots during today's game. were you distracted during this game? is it because of your new relationship status or were-"
bokuto is now riled up. who the hell does this interviewer think he is to corner me and bring in my personal life???
"i'm leaving, fuck this shit," he spits out, trying his best to maintain his composure.
in frustration, bokuto storms out of the press conference room, slamming the double doors, heading towards the locker room to grab his stuff but is stopped by you, running after him.
"kou! wait up!" you say from a distance and he stops in his tracks to look at you. he's still internally raging from the provocative behavior of that interviewer and he feels like he just might lose it.
"what do you want," he says in an aggressive manner that catches you off guard.
you’re aware of the recent loss of the msby jackals. you know that's probably taking a toll on his confidence as a player so you're trying to be as supportive as you can.
"you wanna come back to my place? i was thinking we could watch that one disney movie you like and we could bake something together too? what do you think?"
"why do you always want to fucking hang out?" he says in the lowest tone of voice you've ever heard from him.
it sends shivers down your spine.
"huh?" you're just confused at this point.
"why are you so fucking clingy all the time? it's always 'kou come over!' or 'kou let's watch a movie!' or 'kou let's take a nap together!' like don't you fucking get that i have a genuine career that i'm working really hard to be successful in?"
so that's what he thinks of me.
"i know you want to be a pro volleyball player and i want to support you the entire way. i was just trying to be there for you and help you relax..." you trail. "i get today was really rough for you.."
"that's the thing you don't get it, y/n!" he says exasperatedly. "if you did want to be supportive for me and my career, then you would stop being so all up on me and give my space!"
he walks into the locker room, slamming the door, shaking you up.
in defeat, you begin to leave the stadium with tears brimming your eyes. as you get in your car, you put your head on the steering wheel and suddenly, the tears start to stream out.
"i'll give him his space. i'll just stop everything. i'm nothing of importance to him or his life so it's best if i just stop." you convince yourself.
bokuto, on the other hand, is in the locker room, holding back tears of frustration as he punched one of the lockers.
fuck, what am i even doing right now...
"bokuto-san! let's head out for the night," shoyo's voice can be heard before he can be seen in the locker room. "we're gonna go get drinks and dinner at that new barbecue place that opened up."
he looks up from the bench and smiles at shoyo along with the rest of his teammates that are nodding along in support.
"yeah, sure. fine with me," kou responds with a small smile on his face.
as bokuto and the rest of the jackals are out and about, he keeps looking at his phone in hopes of getting a message or something from you but you're completely radio silent after the spat between the two of you.
he knows you both had a disagreement but he thought you knew that he was just frustrated and upset with the game. he didn't think it was a reason to just go silent on him.
he sends a text to test the waters.
kou <3: babe, we're good right?
he puts his phone down and engages back in the dinner with the rest of the jackals.
an hour has passed yet still no response. it's starting to make him fidgety so he decides to spam you.
kou <3: hello?
kou <3: baby wya???
kou <3: where is the loml at :((
kou <3: BABYYYYYYY
kou <3: POOKIE PLS TXT ME BACK :(((
y/n is typing...
y/n: sry i was getting ready for bed.
you sounded distant. you clearly were upset but was it still about the argument? c'mon you knew he didn't mean what he said... right?
kou <3: ITS OKAY BABY! can i come over? i wanna spend the night with u :,)
kou <3: i miss you
y/n: maybe not tonight... i think it's best if we're by ourselves for a bit
bokuto's hair significantly drooped down, seeing as how he got rejected to hang out with you for the night.
as bokuto heads over to his apartment for the night, he stares at the bedroom ceiling with his thoughts. he misses laying next to his baby. that's when he starts to replay everything that went down between the two of you.
he genuinely can't figure out what went wrong.
he prays that this whole thing will just blow over by tomorrow because he misses you incredibly and just wants to spend time with you.
unfortunately to his demise, you kept shutting down all of kou's efforts to come over. you refused to pick up his calls, resorting to half assed texts.
this whole argument was festering and bokuto had to fix it immediately.
you, however, want nothing more than to spend time with your boyfriend but his words kept running through your mind on loop. anytime you would be sitting alone with yourself, his words kept playing themselves on loop in your brain, making you overthink the post couple months you’ve spent together.
has he always thought of me as clingy? have i always been a bother to him? have i always been super annoying in his eyes?
that was until you heard a knock on the door.
you open the door and see kou standing there in a hoodie and a pair of khakis with a large bouquet of assorted flowers in his hands. his eyes lock with yours while yours widen in surprise.
"k-kou! what are you doing here?" you say in surprise.
"what, i can't see my partnet now?" he retorts lightheartedly. "let me in."
too stunned to even reject him, your hand inherently finds its way to the knob, widening the door so bokuto can fit through into your apartment.
he tries to hand you the flowers but you stand there, hands refusing to move from their sides. "c'mon babe, i got them for you! do you not like them? man, i knew i should've gotten the roses instead."
"no no! thank you so much kou.. i'm just surprised that you even got this for me..." you trail off looking away from him.
he sets the flowers on the kitchen counter and tilts his head in confusion. "what do you mean, y/n?"
"listen, i know you don't really like spending time with me and that you feel obligated to but honestly, we really don't have to hang out or anything like that," you begin to say. "i know i can be a lot sometimes and i'm really working on trying to give you space."
that's when it all clicks in his head for him.
"baby, is this about what i said that day in the gym?" he questions.
you turn away, refusing to even look him in the eye because you know the moment your eyes lock with his, the tears will start streaming down your face.
"baby, no, please," he goes over to you to give you the warmest yet tightest hug possible. "i’m also a very clingy person so i should've known how much my words must have hurt you. i've been so stupid to not see how badly my words must have impacted you, my love. i'm so so sorry for saying and acting the way i did. it's unexcusable."
"no kou it's fine i just-" you say but are interrupted midsentence.
"no, y/n it's not," he says, tears brimming his eyes ever since coming to terms with how hurt you must've been feeling this entire time. "i'll do anything to get your forgiveness and for us to just... be close again. i'll do anything, i mean it."
tears are streaming down both your faces and you can't help but form a wobbly smile on your lips. "pinky promise?"
"pinky promise," kou says as he locks pinkies with you and kisses the top of your head. "now let's cuddle because i've missed being near the love of my life."
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