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starberrywander · 7 months

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If you're pro gender abolition, how can anyone be trans*gender* without *gender*? Fucking transphobe kys

Responding probably isn't the best choice because I'm getting the vibe you won't care what I say but I wanna express this idea anyway.

First of all, I have no idea what post you're referencing so I assume its a bit old and I can't guarantee I still believe all the things in it. Just a heads up before you call me a hypocrite over something I don't remember saying. My opinions change a lot because I spend a lot of time seeking new perspectives. Because of the community around it I probably wouldn't refer to my own views as "gender abolition" anymore. Maybe "gender liberation" but I don't really label it anymore, its just an aspect of my perspective.

Second, if you insult me again this conversation is over. Chill the fuck out, people are allowed to have opinions. Get a grip. You're acting immature.

Lastly, at the current moment here is how I view gender: Gender is a social category created by cultures based around the social roles given to each sex. When people have different roles in society, they tend to form communities and sometimes derive identity from the experience of that group.

However, human beings cannot be easily sorted into these categories and because biology is not the same as self perception, trying to use the unconnected categories to sort people is going to result in some error. That's trans people.

It seems you are approaching gender as something that is.... solid? objective? measurable? I don't know the exact right word. But gender is not a tangible thing that either does or does not exist as a fact of the universe. It is a social concept created by humans, which means we can choose to un-create it. Or edit it. Whichever works out best. So I would like to live in a world where gender doesn't exist (at least as we know it today), but I do not and never have claimed that gender doesn't currently exist. It currently exists and people are free to trans it as much as they want. In fact, I would encourage people to go wild and trans their gender all over the place to fuck with gender roles, because that proves how bullshit it is to divide people into rigid categories like that.

I don't see gender as a bad thing. It is a neutral thing that arises from the bad practice of assigning social meaning to reproductive biology. The thing I have an issue with is when people's sex is used to determine what is and is not socially acceptable, or to assume things about who they are as a person. I think that sex should have no social meaning, basically. Gender, I don't care. It can continue to exist but I think that in a world where sex no longer has social meaning gender would start to become obsolete. It probably wouldn't mean as much to identify as a certain gender because you would now be free to just be yourself and define yourself fully, so I predict that people would stop using gender as an identifier and it would kinda fade away.

And who knows, maybe my predictions are wrong. I'll never know unless we change the perception of sex, and I'm not confident that will happen in my lifetime. For now, gender is a neutral concept and I see not being cis as a rebellion against enforced, sex-based social roles. A rebellion that I am very much a part of and have been since before I was active on this site, so idk how you came to the transmisic conclusion except maybe by assuming things based on the fact that I used the words "gender abolition" once. Which if so, is a massively impulsive assumption and a sign you should maybe check yourself for reactionary impulses and emotional reasoning? Just a suggestion, I don't have enough detail to know for sure. Maybe I'll make a post later on about language vs communication but I just woke up and wanna get back to my day.

Anyway, I hope that helped. Imma go play phasmophobia.

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gothmods · 1 year

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Started watching interview with the vampire since i finally got in the right headspace ( watching of heavier things requires the right mood) but yeah wheres that post about lestat prancing around like a pony on ket i thought i bookmarked it and yet

#im only 2 episodes in but im very interested in his deal #not in a relating way more like i find him very emotionally immature in a weird way though since its clear he knows how to manipulate the #emotions of others #louis' character has a lot more in terms of looking at doubt and shame and ironically the complexities of very human experiences #i like him i think theyve done a really good job fleshing out a character you really feel for and also like #someone for whom vampirism as a vehicle to explore the negative works #i like his dynamic with daniel #the skepticism and bluntness is needed to keep things from getting too?#theatrical? idk like it brings louis back to reality in a way #reality as in it grounds him i suppose #im bad at explaining i just feel all the changes have made for a much more interesting louis but also one who you can connect with #meanwhile lestat is on another planet and its fun to watch but i do not feel for him and you can tell he doesnt retain any real connection #or at least thats what i think after 2 episodes #to having been human and behind his careful calculated actions he still feels very self centered in a careless impulsive kind of way #whereas even without daniels questioning louis clearly still exists as part of the world around him

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theangelslittlecanary · 2 years

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In a bit of a mental crisis, dyed my hair black, love the color, paranoid about the health stuff that comes with all this... kinda freaking out... I just wanted to be happy again... 😭

#is a vent #I wanted my hair black again for a while honestly #but this has been an impulse decision to get back a fraction of the happiness amd carelessness #that I had during college when I had my hair black #but instead of carefree fun I am now panicking over everything from health stuff to how difficult it'd be to get out #... I just want to be happy...#vent #negative #not f/o related

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dearesmeray · 2 months

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Character Traits & Quirks (For Writers)

Peace and blessings upon everyone!

I hope life's treating you well. I’m Esmeray and I welcome you to this post on my blog Dear Esmeray.

Ever wondered what makes your OC truly unforgettable? I believe it is the character traits. Character traits are what bring a character to life, or else you just have a flat, one-dimensional everyman as your OC. So today I'll be sharing with you a list of character traits that I compiled to help you develop better OCs.

Positive Traits:

Agreeable

Brave

Caring

Cheerful

Confident

Cooperative

Creative

Dedicated

Devotion

Diligent

Disciplined

Dutiful

Easygoing

Efficient

Fairness

Forgiveness

Friendly

Funny

Generous

Hard-Working

Honest

Honorable

Humble

Kind

Leadership

Love of learning

Loyal

Passionate

Persuasive

Prudent

Principled

Punctual

Reasonable

Reliable

Respectful

Responsible

Self-regulation

Social Intelligence

Supportive

Trust-worthy

Well-mannered

Witty

Wise

Neutral Traits & Quirks:

Raises Eyebrows

Blinks rapidly

Avoids eye contact

Maintains eye contact

Blinks rapidly

Slouches

Stares off into the distance

Shrugs often

Touches their scars or wounds often

Chews lips

Paces around

Smiles a lot

Rarely smiles

Gestures with hands while speaking

Often is distracted

Hums

Negative Traits:

Absentminded

Abusive

Acts superior

Alcoholic

Aggressive

Always plays the victim

Aimless

Apathetic

Arrogant

Argumentive

Avoids their problems

Bossy

Blunt

Boring

Careless

Can't take criticism

Can't take a joke

Clumsy

Conceited

Controlling

Cunning

Childish

Cruel

Deceptive

Defiant

Demanding

Disloyal

Dishonest

Dramatic

Dependent

Disorganized

Disrespectful

Distracted easy

Extravagant

Envious

Forgetful

Greedy

Holds grudges

Makes up excuses for everything

Has a reason for why nothing is ever their fault

No accountability

Hostile

Hypopocrite

Immature

Impatient

Impractical

Impressionable

Impulsive

Insensitive

Irresponsible

Not a team player

Incompetent

Irritable

Inconsiderate

Indulgent

Insecure

Jealous

Know-It-All

Lazy

Liar

Loud

Manipulative

Makes everything about them

Makes everything a joke

Their way or the highway

Mean

Meddlesome

Messy

Naive

Nosy

Obnoxious

Obbssesive

Offended easily

Overdramatic

Overreacts

Patronizing

Power-hungry

Pretentious

Rebellious

Reckless

Rude

Sarcastic

Selfish

Sensitive

Stingy

Sexist

Spoiled

Stubborn

Superstitious

Talks over others/interrupts

Too loyal

Too forgiving

Undependable

Unreliable

Unsympathetic

Unorganized

Unreasonable

Violent

Weak

Remember, there are no one-dimensional characters in real life, and there shouldn't be in your stories either. The possibilities for your characters are endless – so get creative and have fun writing!

With Love, Esmeray ♡

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buckyalpine · 10 months

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As requested, just a little back story for how you and Bucky got together after this fic (Steve cheating on you with Sharon). You could read this as a standalone. Turns out the backstory is longer than the OG fic but I hope you like it! <3

Warnings: Cheating, angst, smut, flufff, comforting, protective Bucky falling in love with you

"It's-it's not what it looks like"

It was pathetic even for him.

What else could it possibly look like.

Steve scrambled up to cover himself as if he wasn't balls deep in someone else while Sharon squeaked, pulling the sheets over herself. You didn't move from where you were standing, still blinking at the flushed captain while he struggled to pull his boxers on, nearly tripping as he ran over to you.

"Sweets, it's not-

"Please don't" You whispered shaking your head, tears you didn't notice streaming down your face, still looking at Sharon's fucked out form, the deep blush on her cheeks and messy hair enough to let you know they had already been at it for a while.

"Let me explain-Wait, y/n!!"

You walked as fast as you could in desperate need of air, hoping you wouldn't run into anyone as you dashed down the hall, your eyes trained on the floor. You nearly bit through your lip, throat closing in on itself painfully tight, not noticing Bucky as you dashed by.

"Y/n?" Bucky was on his way for a run when he saw you leave Steve's room, surprised to hear a sniffle as you ran off with your head down. It wasn't his business to pry into the relationship but seeing you upset made him worry, now also concerned for his best friend.

He made his way over to Steve's room instead of chasing after you, his blood turning ice cold finding a half dressed Sharon along with Steve still in nothing but his briefs.

"What the hell"

"I-" Steve froze, stuttering when Bucky's eyes flicked between him and the other blonde with disgust, stepping outside again till they were both fully dressed.

"What the fuck Steve" Bucky's fists were balled at his sides trying not punch his best friend square in the face, giving him a chance to explain himself first. Not that it mattered.

"It wasn't supposed to happen"

"Which part, you cheating or y/n finding out" Bucky stared at the Captain while he sat down on the edge of his bed in defeat.

"Relax, Barnes, it's not like she was your girl-

"You shut the fuck up" Bucky growled when Sharon tried to speak up, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to collect himself.

"Leave. Just leave" Steve turned to her, ignoring the annoyed huffs she made as she collected her things, slamming the door shut behind her.

"It was just the one time. We never did anything else before th-this" Steve's voice cracked on the last word before breaking into a sob, running his hands through his hair while Bucky made his way over to sit beside him.

"Is that supposed to change anything punk?" Bucky shook his head in disappointment, now worried for you instead. "Why would you do that to her"

Silence followed Bucky's question while Steve wracked his brain for the answer.

Why.

Why the fuck would he do that.

You were nothing short of perfect for him. Beautiful on the inside and out. When Steve first met you, he had the same feeling in his stomach as the day he'd met Peggy. His heart started to beat a little bit faster. Cheeks a bit warmer. He mustered up all the courage he could to ask you out on a date and the second you said yes, it became the happiest day of his life. He felt so strongly for you, it almost hurt.

However along with his passion came an equal amount impulsiveness and carelessness. It showed during brave, heroic acts where he threw himself out of buildings or on top of grenades. Now it was showing during his less gracious moments where he gave into a moment of temptation, not thinking about anything else when he took the blonde to his room, falling for the batting of her lashes and soft touches.

"It was just the one time sweets, I promise. I've never done anything else"

Steve's desperate voice made your heart hurt, his red rimmed eyes and puffy face were full of regret. You chewed your lip to keep it from quivering, the both of you sitting on the edge of your bed.

"What was the reason?"

"I-I don't have one" His head was hung in shame, unable to meet your eyes while he fidgeted with his hands. No answer would dignify what he did and you certainly deserved better than any pathetic excuse he'd come up with. He couldn't hold himself back when he heard you sniffle, pulling you into his lap and cradling your head to his chest, hugging you tightly as you shook in his arms.

"I'm so sorry sweets, I'm so sorry" His voice cracked again, tears dampening your hair as he cried with you, rocking you gently, "I know you deserve better, I shouldn't have- m'so sorry baby"

You sobs died down to sniffles, eventually calming down to shaky breaths, the room falling silent again. The wounds were too fresh, exhaustion taking over stronger with all your emotions in turmoil. The scent that always brought you comfort and love now stung when you inhaled, still hiding away in the crook of his neck.

Old habits die hard and you found yourself falling asleep moments later, still tucked in his arms while he continued to whisper apologies, begging for forgiveness, hoping for one more chance he knew he didn't deserve.

"Can you give me another chance? Just one" Steve whispered when your eyes cracked open, your body till drained and head throbbing. "Just one darling, you don't have to tell me right now, I just- "

"I'll think about it"

Steve nodded, leaving your room to give you some space while you thought it over. You tried to take a hot bath to ease the heartache but it did nothing. You hated how quickly you had melted into him the second he comforted you. You hated how much you wanted to forgive him easily because you loved him so much. He had just slept with someone else and you went and fell asleep in his arms.

Pathetic.

You eventually made your way downstairs for a snack, unable to fall asleep, embarrassment crawling up your cheeks when you saw Bucky nursing a cup of coffee, seeing your disheveled form. Before you could do or say anything, he pulled out a chair for you, having you sit down and pecking the tiniest kiss on top of your head.

"I'll make it for you" Bucky smiled, pulling out your favorite mug with kittens on it and putting the kettle on. He knew your go to was chamomile tea during late nights, grabbing a box of chocolate chip cookies to snack on.

"He wants another chance" you mumbled between sips, "and it's pathetic that I'm considering it"

"That's not true y/n" Bucky sighed, giving your hand a comforting squeeze, the cool metal easing your nerves. "It's not pathetic. You really loved him, that doesn't just disappear over night"

"I'm supposed to be stronger than this" You shrugged but Bucky wasn't having any of it, scooting closer to you.

"You are strong. Its hard because you loved him. And you still do"

"I wasn't good enough, was I" If it wasn't for his super hearing Bucky would've missed the whisper of your voice, his eyes growing wide at what you said.

"Don't. Doll, in the most respectful way possible, you're beautiful. On the inside and out. Anyone can see it. I don't feel comfortable around others the way I do with you. You're one of the wonderful people I've ever met and I've been alive for 103 years. The prettiest doll too. If you were mine-"

Bucky blinked as soon as the words left his mouth, no. There is no if you were mine Barnes, that's the girl your best friend loves-

"Sorry" He caught himself, cutting himself off, not wanting to overstep, "What I'm saying is you were not the problem here. Not in the slightest. There's no way the sweetest angel I've ever met is not good enough"

"Well, I was clearly lacking something, there's just me and he's the great Captain America" You scoffed.

"To the world" Bucky nodded, shaking his head thinking about the person that he knew from all those years ago. Steve Rogers, a skinny kid who got beat up in back alley ways. "But he's also that punk from Brooklyn who got all excited when some blonde kissed him for his bravery while also being in love with Peggy Carter. Melted into her arms and then tailed after Peggy like a kicked puppy seconds later when he realized he fucked up. He's not always the brightest bulb in the box even if he is the bravest. Sometimes"

"I don't know what to do"

"You don't have to know right now" Was all Bucky said, not wanting to persuade you to do anything when you were already struggling emotionally. He made you another cup of tea before walking you to your room and giving you a tight hug, letting you know he was always there if you wanted to talk before bidding you good night.

It had been a few weeks. You tried. You tried with all your heart to appreciate the efforts Steve made to mend the relationship but your mind would always flash to what you walked in on that day.

Their clothes on the floor.

Warm, flushed skin.

Sounds of pleasure.

Whenever he kissed your cheek, you thought of the way he probably did the same to her. You weren't ready to be intimate with him and you weren't sure you'd ever be able to again. In the mean time, you spent more and more time with Bucky. It helped having someone to talk to who also understood the person you had been in love with.

With every conversation you had with him, you started to feel confused. The fluttery feeling you used to have with Steve started to happen with Bucky instead. But maybe that was because he was the one person you knew you were able to turn to. Maybe.

But then you started hanging out with him even when you weren't sad. When it was just the two of you left back at the compound, you'd enjoy walks around the city, visiting art galleries, movie marathons and late night drives. Sometimes you'd both end up falling asleep together, waking up wrapped up in each others arms, only to pull away without saying a word once the sun rose again.

Your friendship was purely platonic is what you kept telling yourself when you found yourself trying to find nicer outfits to see Bucky, adding a touch of extra makeup and finding excuses to cancel on Steve just to relax at home with the team his bestfriend instead.

You slipped on some comfy clothes, ready to go to sleep when there was a knock at your door. You knew exactly who it was considering it was just the both of you once again, your facing feeling warm as you made your way to the door.

"Let's go for a ride?" Bucky gave you his signature cheeky smile that stuck with him from the 40's, his eyes sparkling when you took the other helmet from his hand, playfully rolling your eyes

"Alright Sergeant, let's go"

Bucky happily led you to the garage, ignoring the way his heart flipped when you wrapped your arms around his waist, tightly holding onto him when the engine roared to life. He had no reason to ask you to go on a ride with him. You were doing perfectly fine. You were trying to work things out with Steve and that alone had its issues but you were doing much better than before.

You didn't need to use him as a distraction.

You didn't need him at all.

But he was starting to feel like he needed you...

He couldn't think of you like that...

He shook those rogue thoughts away, zipping through the near empty streets, the cool wind making you shiver, snuggling closer to him. Bucky found himself placing his hand above yours often whenever he was at a stop light, neither of you saying anything every time your fingers intertwined instead. Once he parked back at the compound, neither of you said anything, letting the thick tension between you two linger as he walked you to your room.

Then he said good night.

Kissed your cheek.

Stayed rooted in place when he should've walked back to his room instead.

That night Bucky made love to you for the first time. It wasn't supposed to happen. It wasn't planned. Your underwear didn't match. He didn't have protection.

But none of that mattered.

It was different.

You knew Steve loved you and constantly told you how beautiful you were but a part of you still always felt insecure whenever you were intimate with him. Like you'd never be perfect in his eyes though he never said such a thing.

But not with Bucky.

You let his eyes roam your body, kissing every bit of your skin he could touch. You didn't doubt for a second that he found you beautiful everywhere. His hands roamed the soft skin of your tummy and you didn't tense your stomach. You kissed his shoulder where mental met flesh and he didn't flinch, feeling just as safe around you.

He was inside you and it still didn't feel close enough. You were wrapped up in each other with your arms and legs tangled together, soft moans filling the room as if you were still trying to keep what was happening a secret. It wasn't right, it should've have happened but it did and neither of you wanted to stop.

"Angel, I-I love you" He whispered, desperation and shame clouding his mind because he knew Steve was trying but you deserved so much more loving. "I know I shouldn't but I do. Fuck, I love you so much" His voice was muffled against your neck while he continued to rock his hips, hitching a knee up to push himself deeper.

"I love you too" You surprised yourself with how easily the words followed, feeling guilty from how true they were. You did love him. It wasn't in the moment. You had loved him from before. You loved him more even now.

"M'gonna treat you right princess, I promise. Swear on my life, whenever you're ready, if you'd have me" He pulled away from your neck, his wide innocent puppy eyes pleading with you to believe him, that he'd take care of you with his whole heart, "I won't break your heart precious girl"

"I'll be yours" You moaned as he moved faster, desperately chasing both of your climaxes. You clung into him tightly as he started to fill you up without a second guess. "One day, I'll be yours"

That started it. Neither of you said anything, not acknowledging what it was. After all, you were technically still Steve's girl. But it didn't stop Bucky from sneaking into your room in the middle of the night. It didn't stop you from sneakily holding his hand under the blanket during movie nights.

Maybe you were not ready to tell Steve yet but you were more certain about what real love felt like now than ever before.

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risuola · 10 months

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Gojo x reader who's a student and she's 18y/o and he likes yn but yn doesn't or she doesn't wanna admit

SENSEI — F. READER x GOJO SATORU

Gojo Satoru is your sensei and everyone seem to notice that he likes you more than anyone else. Everyone but you.

cw: student x teacher, age gap (reader is 18, Satoru is 28), very brief description of fighting, public kissing — 1,4k words

a/n: thank you for the suggestion! I made if sfw but I made the ending open for part two maybe? I hope you enjoy it 🩶

» PART TWO [nsfw]

"Idiot," you grunted, your cheek was pressed against the grass as Gojo forced his knee into your back, holding both your hands in one of his own, the other keeping your head down. Another day, another training session with your teacher – you couldn't count how many of these you've already been through, but you can easily count how many sparring matches you've won. None.

"That's a strange way to ask for mercy, sweetheart, but okay," he hummed. You can tell he was grinning just by the sound of his melodic tone and you snapped at him, "I'm not asking for mercy, sensei."

"Ay, ay, so stubborn," Satoru chuckled and lifted up so you could do the same and as you stood on your feet, facing him, his hand caressed your cheekbone, successfully freezing you on the spot. The touch was so gentle that if you didn't know better, your knees would probably buckle from the sensation. But this was Gojo. The flirtiest of flirts, and the man you deeply disliked. It's not that you despised him, no, it's just the way he carries himself, the way he treated everyone around him, and most importantly, the way he treated you.

When you moved to Tokyo, joining Jujutsu High, you were barely fifteen, a first-year student that Satoru recruited himself by finding you on the streets of your small town and saving you from the mental facility that you already had one foot in, voluntarily. Before that, you tried to live your life as normally as one could, ignoring everything you saw around you because no one else seemed to see it. The curses, which you did not know were curses at the time, made you doubt your sanity for the longest time.

After moving, everything became easier – you met people who were just like you, you learned how to fight and mastered the cursed techniques in no time. Now, you just recently turned eighteen, you were pushing your last year of education, though there wasn't much more to learn, so you focused on helping younger students and if you were to be honest, this practice had taught you more than any theory could. You had the luck, or misfortune, to be Gojo's first official student – he took care of you himself, helping you to refine your control over the cursed energy and thanks to his guidance, you quickly discovered and mastered your own cursed technique, and since there wasn't much anyone could teach you at this point, you trained hand-to-hand with Satoru.

"Think you have more in you?", he asked, his thumb still brushing across your cheekbone and you took a step back. "I'm always ready to kick your ass," you bit, your eyes narrowing as you clenched your fists.

"That's my girl," Gojo grinned and you snorted at the sight. He's always so careless, never taking any of your attacks seriously, bragging about how untouchable he is, turning your wildest dreams into fantasies about erasing that infuriating smile from his face. And he was taking your fists like they're nothing, blocking and pushing them away like he's chasing a fly away when you tried to land a punch, with no luck at all. "Come on, I'm sure you can hit me at least once," he mocked, moving effortlessly, as if he could see what action your body will take before you even think about it.

"Shut up," you groaned, trying and trying, before he kicked you in the stomach, pushing you against the tree and you had no time to react before he was pressing you back with his own body. The sudden closeness made you gasp and act impulsively, but Gojo blocked the knee that buckled up, aiming for his crotch. "Nuh-uh, that's against the rules," he chuckled and you felt his breath against your lips.

"And you being on me is not?" you argued, but he was unfazed. "Who made these rules?"

"I did," of course he did. "It's only fair that the strongest make the rules."

"You and your damn bragging-"

"I'm stating facts," he cut in, and you rolled your eyes, "and you can't seem to be able to prove me wrong. Not even one of your eager punches lands."

That was the last straw – you inhaled to calm your anger, and you could physically feel your composure snapping as you looked at his smiling face. You were desperate to prove him wrong, not to defeat him, no, you're not that insane, but to just prove him that he's not as untouchable as he says. And then you recalled every teasing joke you heard from your younger colleagues – all of them seemed to come to the collective conclusion that the 'special treatment' you got from your sensei was surely an effect of his feelings towards you, and you brushed off the idea every single time. Gojo Satoru is handsome, annoyingly so, and his eyes are an absolute blessing to gaze into (when you're not his opponent in a deadly encounter, that is), and he's a kind, friendly man, very caring and protective of his students. His strengths make him invincible; he can win any fight with no effort, and everything he does, he does perfectly. He often brings you sweets, remembering your favorite flavors, and he always addresses you with a slightly warmer tone than when he speaks to any other student. He's also ten years your senior, your teacher, and he's way out of your league, so you simply chose to dislike him because allowing yourself to believe in such an absurd theory that he could fall for you would only bring disappointment.

But now, you were desperate to slam your fist into his face, to draw blood from his nose, to make him lose his balance, to get something– anything more than a swift, effortless dodge from him. Without thinking, you moved your head forward, reaching up, and he hummed in surprise when your lips landed on his. You could feel he smiled while taking control over the kiss, and you fought for dominance just a little before grabbing a handful of his snow-white, messy hair. You felt his well-built body pressing harder against yours, much smaller; the wall of muscle flush to your chest, and his large hand landed on the side of your neck, fingers curling around the back, pulling you more into the kiss. For a moment you were lost in the sensation – it felt so wrong and yet so right, and your mind became cloudy; his lips were soft and plush and perfect against yours, as if they'd been carved precisely to match yours, and it made your temperature rise to feverish levels at how skillfully he guided the sensitivity. Nothing you've ever felt compared to the feeling of Gojo's lips slowly dancing on yours, as if he's starving and now, he was allowed to devour the long-awaited meal – but he devoured it slowly, savoring the taste to remember every second of it. You whimpered as you felt his hand sliding down the length of your spine, sending shivers along it as your back arched beneath the touch.

You tugged at his hair, causing a contented purr to rumble within his toned chest, and you moved against your body's desires. You'd like to stay like this forever, careless about how everyone can see you publicly making out with your sensei; you'd like to kiss him longer, deeper, to take more of him, to make him yours, even if only for a moment, but instead you moved your hand. Curling it into a fist, you bit onto his lower lip following it up with a harsh, heavy punch to the side of his face and it landed perfectly, the contact between your knuckles and his cheek undeniable as he touched the bone. Despite the force you put into it, the blow wasn't strong enough to make him fall or even step back, but it was satisfactory for you. His face was colored with surprise as he looked down at you, and you couldn't help but grin broadly.

"New rule," he said, grabbing your hand and planting a kiss on the reddened knuckles that just made contact with his face. "No kissing your teacher during spar sessions."

"Too bad I wasn't familiarized with the rules before the fight, sensei," you shrugged, pleased with your accomplishment, and he couldn't get over the way you made the word 'sensei' sound. Suddenly he wished to hear it somewhere else, somewhere other than the school's training grounds or classrooms.

"Now I declare the end of the training."

And Satoru's lips were once again pressed to yours, taking your breath away.

» PART TWO

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linsflowers · 2 months

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ෆ impulsive.

is that a good thing?

summary — you got your ass in trouble,again.

characters — Dan Heng,brief mention of himeko,welt,march 7th and trailblazer

tags — fluff,gn!reader,you got hurt,one shot,you and Dan Heng are friends,a small argument turning into..?

an — can you tell I like Dan Heng? (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡

you and Dan Heng are good friends,you swear you are.but would other people agree?no.

everyone on the express knows that Dan Heng has feelings for you,how could you be so clueless and oblivious to the signs he'd given so far?you two were not just friends, definitely not.

if only you knew how gazes at you, his eyes softening ever so slightly,a slight red hue fading onto his cheeks,how he'd lower his voice,trying to sound as soft as possible,how the corner of his lips would curve up a little whenever you come up to him,even if its unnoticeable,to you,atleast.

it was just another normal day for Dan Heng,where he'd spend time in the archives,doing what he usually does,but that quickly changed,when you snuck inside his room,wounded.

you put a finger over your lips,with an awkward little smile,signaling him to keep quiet.if you only knew how the sight of you being hurt made his stomach churn.

Dan Heng had a worried and hurtful frown on his face,as he treated your wounds,the loud silence filling the room,none of you said a single word,but you could tell that he knew what had happened.

now you find yourself sitting on his mattress,with him bandaging your wounds.his touch was very gentle,treating you as if you were as fragile as a glass,one wrong move and you would break.

"Dan Heng,I-" you opened your mouth to speak,but he quickly interrupted.

after a few minutes,he put away the bandages and medicine back to their place,his gaze now landing on yours.

"why are you always so careless?" he asked,his voice laced with a hint of hurt,if only you knew how worried he was about you.

"but they started it!I just couldn't let that's slide."

"that's not the point,[name]." a frustrated sigh left Dan Heng's lips,his blue eyes narrowing slightly,you could see he was worried.

"you always manage to get yourself hurt,no matter what the situation is.this is not the first time."he continued,frowning as he kept eye contact with you,his voice was as gentle as ever,but that only made you more frustrated,why does he always act like he actually cares?it's not like you got fatally injured,anyways.he's always like this,you just can't understand,why?

and that's how an argument broke out between you two,at this point,you're both not even sure what you're arguing about anymore.

"haah.." Dan Heng lets out another frustrated sigh,as he knits his eyebrows,you could see he was getting frustrated,but so were you.

"why do you always have to scold me about it?it's not like you were the one who got hurt!" you shouted,angry and frustrated

"that's the point,[name],you were hurt.I'm just wo—" Dan Heng parted his lips to speak,when you interrupted him.

"why do you even care anyway?it's not like you—" and that's when he snapped,as he raised his voice,saying it out loud and clear.

"because I like you."

he swears it came out by accident,you weren't supposed to find out like this.he let his feelings get ahead of him,he wasn't going to confess so soon,not in a situation like this,at least.

silence filled the room,as your eyes widened in shock,your jaw dropping.

"what?"

Dan Heng had realised what he said,as his face turned bright red.

"Dan Heng,wait—"

springing up from the mattress,he ran out of his own room quickly,slamming the door shut without a single word,leaving you there alone flabbergasted.

everything was heard by the other members of the express,himeko had dropped her coffee,march 7th and the trailblazer exchanging surprised glances at each other as welt just sat there,knowing it would have happened sooner or later.

you would find Dan Heng avoiding you for the next few days,his face always flushed bright red as he excused himself whenever you were mentioned,quickly running away like a shy schoolgirl.

you'd have to take the first step,this time.

he's so cute I love him sm <3

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ataraxiaspainting · 5 months

Text

Careless Whisper.

Yan Gojo x F Reader.

Synopsis: After a long game of playing hard to get, Satoru finally gets you to go on a date with him. But you didn’t expect him to choose a farmer’s market of all places for it to happen.

Warnings: Yandere themes, threats of kidnapping, manipulation, and stalking.

Continuation of There is an Uproar.

Word Count: 1.6k.

Ten Songs Like This Piece:

This Could Be Us by Rae Sremmurd

Get Up by NewJeans

Supermassive Black Hole by Muse

Bathroom by Montell Fish

Hotel by Montell Fish

Money Trees by Kendrick Lamar (feat. Jay Rock)

After Hours by The Weeknd

Government Hooker by Lady Gaga

Do I Wanna Know? by Arctic Monkeys

The Walls by Chase Atlantic

“You’re killing me; don’t you see that you’re the winner of the game?” – Benét, Killing Eve

*~*~*~*

You hold onto the basket like a lifeline.

You grasp the handle so tightly it leaves a mark on your palm and the inner parts of your fingers, and you can practically feel splinters impaling them.

They say the devil takes on many forms, and if it were said that the devil could take the form of a white-haired man with sunglasses in whatever religious texts you were given in your childhood, you would believe that without question.

The identity of whoever or whatever forced you on this little outing is not human. You know this. He can’t be. If he is, your view of humanity will decrease tenfold from where it once was.

Should you pray to all the higher powers and heavens above that he is or is not?

“Come on, let’s get moving!” They say monsters speak in either honeyed, calm, and sweet voices or grimy and croaky ones; but this one is neither. “I kinda want to pet a chicken.”

*~*~*~*

“There’s my girlie!”

You were not surprised in the slightest when Satoru pulled up to your door with a Rolls-Royce. At the sight and the called-out nickname, you even roll your eyes and cross your arms, much to the driver’s amusement. The car is adorned with lamb's wool carpets, embellished with stunning wood and milled aluminum accents, and encased in box grain leather. Only the highest quality materials for the all-high and mighty Satoru Gojo. It is the topmost privilege for a mere mortal like you to even see it.

“You ready?” As you ever will be.

“Yeah.” Your response is quick and to the point. “You still haven’t even told me where we are going for this… date.”

The smirk that appears on his face instantly gives you the impulse to slap it off. But he is stronger, and will most likely not let you, because he is the one in control and not you. So, as he beckons you closer, you close the car door behind you and sit down on the leather seat. The drive to hit him still stands for as long as you anticipated. You just look out the window and hope it goes away.

It is nice outside. Though if Satoru’s foot was not on the peddle, you would have liked it more.

It’s spring now. The grass is bright green and tall, and you could swear that you can smell it. Tiny circles of flowers are there now and then. Dandelions and daffodils mostly. You could count them if Satoru was not driving so damn fast you think he is speeding.

He put your purse and phone in the back seat because, of course, he would want no distractions to stop you from paying attention to him.

He starts talking about how nice your dress looks and how happy he is to have you as his girlfriend.

You want to puke.

It would take at least two weeks for the smell to go away. He would have to clean it up because you would refuse to. Any damage done to his ego no matter how small is a win in your book.

You could picture it now. Satoru, long plastic gloves on his hands and wearing an apron, scrubbing the expensive carpet stained with bile and looking disgusted with you. Maybe he would give up on you then.

You almost laugh at the thought but decide against it when he starts talking with a smile that does not exactly reach his eyes.

*~*~*~*

He is tailing behind you like a grim reaper.

The black turtleneck he is wearing you suppose could count as a cloak. His face is white enough to be a skull, his hair helping you see it in your mind. All the expectations he has for you could be considered a guillotine’s blade that is ready to be let loose at any moment. Maybe a scythe. Don’t lose your head. That is what you keep telling yourself as you go down the aisles of sewn aprons and freshly baked bread and chickens wandering not too far off from the butcher’s cutting board. Don’t lose your head.

So, you keep walking to not be the victim of Satoru’s wrath.

“They’re so cute!” He exclaims, bending down to get a better look at the rabbits that are trapped within the confines of the barbed fence. “I just want to take one home! It would be like having another you around!”

His cooing makes you want to stab your eardrums out with the plastic fork you were given along with a free sample of chicken pot pie.

But you can’t ignore him either, he yearns for your responses like an addict.

“I’m not a rabbit.” You roll your eyes. Satoru responds by turning his head at you and then turning it again to make a visibly confused expression. “I’m a human. Not a pet. Not something to… lock up.” As his countenance turns somber and a hint of amusement lingers, the playful aura dissipates. Your breathing hastens, and your heart races. Perhaps voicing your thoughts was an ill-advised choice. Maybe an alternate utterance would have been wiser. Any alternative, for that expression, is one you wish to never witness again.

As you struggle to catch your breath, Satoru's steady grip on your shoulder brings a faint awareness to your hyperventilation. He calls out your name repeatedly, trying to reach through the haze of tears in your eyes. However, his words offer no solace or relief.

“Come on! Of course, you are.”

Maybe you will puke after all. But not on purpose like you originally intended.

His smile feels like a stab to the chest. Everything he does feels that way.

“...What do you mean?” What exactly does he have planned for you?

How far back do they go? Days, months, years, decades?

“You’ll see. You’ll like them, I know you will.” His hand clasps over your free one like a noose. “Either when you first know them or further down the line. I’ll be with you every step of the way no matter what you think. But just know I only have your best intentions at heart, okay? I can promise you that at least.”

“...Mmhmm. Let’s just… get moving.” Once again, you are off within a labyrinth of stalls.

You liked farmer’s markets during the warmer months, with your family and friends during school breaks and vacation times. Is that why he chose this place? Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe he also likes them. However, you cannot process the words Satoru and farmer’s market in the same sentence.

You pictured him bringing you to some nightclub and forcing you to dance under disco lights and loud music until you nearly faint from exhaustion. As much as you don’t want to admit it, maybe this is the better option.

You can’t imagine any other option. It could be worse. Those threats of his can easily become true, he could just lock you up in his penthouse and refuse to let you leave.

So, you don’t complain. You don’t want Satoru to get upset, even if you haven’t seen him that way.

“We’ll eventually move in together. Get married further down the line. Maybe have a kid or two, if we are really up to it, though I don’t mind if it is just the two of us.”

For once, you hope Satoru chooses his initial thought. You don’t want to bring any child into this hell.

“Romantic, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

His finger traces the bridge of your nose downward and the tip of it presses on its end.

“Boop!”

“Sigh…”

He does it again.

“So cute…”

“Let’s just continue.” You try so hard not to seethe. “I heard at this specific market they have good lentil soup. Focaccia too. Let’s go.”

He nods.

“Okay! We’re off!”

There is no escape, is there?

“It should be by the coffee stalls if I remember correctly.” You don’t get to finish because of course Satoru found a brand new interest to fixate on.

Aprons. Specifically, the pink lacy one that he is holding gently like a baby. “[First]! Look! You should wear it. It suits you!”

You shake your head immediately. To this, Satoru frowns. You’re hungry after being hauled around from stall to stall for the past hour or so. Can’t he understand that?

He holds the apron up closer to your face.

You turn away from it. Satoru only puts it closer. He really can be stubborn. That is what got you in this situation in the first place. As stubborn as you sometimes are, you can hardly compare to him. But that is with most things.

Money, power, influence, he will always have more than you will, won’t he? Damn it. No escape. Not from him.

Not from him.

But you can try, can’t you? You can at least try. “Come on! It would look so cute on you.” You shake your head. His frown only deepens and he sighs.

Then he shoots you a look again. The look demanding of you to be good or else. The look that gets you to obey him every time he uses it. Every time he puts his foot down.

Don’t lose your head.

Evade the blade.

“Good,” He says, handing you the apron with the smile you unsurprisingly prefer over the hellish expression he just showed you. “Go.”

You do.

Damn it. As long as Satoru keeps toying with you, you won’t ever be able to find peace. No escape. Damn it.

You slip the apron on as he watches, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

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multi-fandom-imagine · 1 year

Text

-Wanna Feel Your Skin.

A/n: I apologize if this sucks and if I left you off the tag list. But really on so sorry if it sucks.

Warnings: P in the V, teasing, creampie, biting, rough sex, aftercare, sex pollen. { everything is consensual ,Female reader.

Tag List:

@jeremy-is-heere , @cuti3pie4u , @yeojoongiee , @the-abyss-of-fandoms , @hrefna-the-raven , @msghostface , @lunamomos

Inspirations:

[ CLAIM ] our muses are arguing because receiver is worried and overprotective of sender, but when they get up in each other’s faces they end up kissing and groping at each other.

Song: Skin- Rihanna

Song 2: Dangerous Woman- Ariana Grande

Heat, it’s all he was feeling. Heat and want.

Leon didn’t understand what was happening to him, why he was feeling like this, why he wanted you so badly.

He had to push down, he couldn’t focus on that! He can’t shouldn’t be focusing on wanting to fuck you.Gritting his teeth he ran a shaky hand through his hair. He didn’t know what the fuck he got injected with but right now his priorities was to find Ashley and make sure that you stay safe in the process.

And of course she had to show up, Leon knew how much Ada pushed your buttons. She knew his feelings for you despite him never telling you.

“It would be so easy Leon, to just give in to your desires…I don’t think she’ll complain.”

Leon wanted to say something, he tried to open his mouth but that scuffle had riled him up. He could feel his pulse pounding under his skin, his heart racing.

Working his jaw Leon did his best to focus on what Ada saying but then you stepped closer, your hand placing its self on his forearm. He wanted to shrug you off. The rational part in his brain begging him to push you away. It was coming to a point where he couldn’t even hear your voices anymore.

“Why the hell are you here.”It’s not like you hated the woman per say, you knew the shit she did yet that wasn’t the reason why you held so much hate for her, you hated how much she flirted with Leon. That he seemed to hold something for her. You hated how jealous you felt but you knew you could never admit it out loud. What was the point in admitting your feelings only to be turned down.

Ignoring your question, Ada tipped her head to the side watching the man stumble towards the table. His nails digging into the wood, chest heaving. She wondered if this might be the push you both needed. She was honestly getting tired of watching you both dance around each others feelings.

“You should take care of our dear Boy Scout. Don’t think he’ll last much longer.”

Turning away from Ada you gasped seeing Leon hunched across the table, he didn’t look good and at the moment you could careless Ada being gone.

“Leon! Shit you’re burning up.” Pressing your hand to his head you tried to think what might be wrong.

God why did you have to stand so close to him, why did you have to smell so good. Squeezing his eyes shut he tried to drown out your voice, tried to tell you to leave but nothing game out but a strangled groan, he could feel his blood rushing south. Something he did not want to happen.

“Don’t tell me you’re all worked up about her Leon.God I don’t understand why you’d even having feelings for that woman.”

Pushing away from the table he took a few steps away from you nearly tripping. He wanted, wanted you badly and he was scared what might happen if he’d act on his impulse.

“Really Y/n…you think I have feelings for her? Christ you’re smart but I didn’t think you’d be blind. How can’t you see that.” Gritting his teeth he snapped his neck towards you. “You don’t see they I have feelings for you?”

“What?” You we’re so quite he wasn’t sure how he picked it up and right now he didn’t care, he never meant for the words to spill past his lip this. He hated how desperate he sounded.

A small rumble escaped his lips, he didn’t know what made him snap. Maybe it was the pent up feelings or how you were looking at him but he wanted you, he wanted you now and the next thing you knew your body was being pinned to the small table. Leon’s hands on your hips. You tried not to shudder feeling his hardness pressing into you. His lips finding yours, you did your best to return the kiss until he broke it.

His face hiding against your neck, his fingers skimming your bare skin as they slid under the shirt you were wearing. “Please…please you need to leave.I can’t stand the thought of hurting you.”

Sinking your teeth in your lip you let your fingers run down the back of his neck. “Then take me Leon…please…I want this.”

Your voice, your pleading as your legs wrapped around his hips. Your clothes coming off happened bast, to fast in his mind. His hand cupping your breasts, sliding down your hips to your center.

This was his, for his eyes lonely and once he was out of this hellhole he was going to take you right, treat you like a Queen but right now he wants you and he’ll make sure you’d be screaming out his name.

A small whimper escaped your through as he pushed a finger in your warmth, your juices coating his fingers. He couldn’t wait to be within you, to feel you envelope his cock.

“Don’t hold back Leon.Please I want to feel all of you.”

Leon did his best to not to hurt you, his nails digging into your curves as he drew you closer. Your body nearly sliding off the table as he sheathed himself into your warmth.The table groaning underneath you as he continued to thrusts, his hands guiding your hips. You did your best to match Leon’s movements. One hand moving down where you both were joined as he pressed his thumb to your clit.

A cry leaving your lips, your breasts bouncing with head of his hard thrusts.His lips capturing your own as his tongue swirled against your own, your cry’s muffled.

The familiar feeling building in your stomach as your legs tightened around his hips. Your fingers weaving through his freed hand, Leon squeezing it gently. The only sound in the room were the ones of your love making, moans spilling past your lips. Begging for more, a deep chuckle escaping Leons chest as he slowed his pace. His mind clearing of the fog, teasing you.

The tip of his cock brushing your clit as he nuzzled your neck as he moved his hand back to your hips.

“Say my name.”

“Leon…please. Don’t stop.”

Your body tensing as he pushed his cock back into your pussy.

“So good, you feel so good.”

Your first climax hits you the moment Leon pulled out his member. The tip barley grazing your walls. Your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. Your body quivering, chest heaving as your arousal dripped down your thighs and on the table below you, waves of pleasure shooting through your body as he thrusted back into you.

“More.”

Picking up the pace, Leon hitched your leg higher on his hips, the new angle making you cry out his name. Your scream echoing the once silent room as pleasure rolls through you.

Then you scream, your throat raw as he continue to thrust.His breaths coming in harsh, burning pants against your cheeks as he continues to fuck you, his hips snapping against yours as his name continued to slip past your lips over and over.

Your head swimming with dazed pleasure, consuming desire. Your blood pounding in your ears as as the table creaked with each force of his thrusts.Another climax building, a feral growl escaping Leon’s throat as you felt the base of his cock start to swell.

“Yes!”You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, feel the pleasure building within you as his thrusts started to become more sloppy.

“Y/n.”He groans out your name, rutting faster, deeper, his thrusts becoming more desperate and with one last, power thrust he slams his shaft within you. Your nails digging into his shoulder as you sobbed out his name.

Leon comes, burying his face in your neck, a shuddering groan of pleasure escaping his lips, his chest pressed against yours. You could feel his heart pounding as your lips found his, your body still shaking with pleasure as he fills you with his seed.You kiss him, slowly, careful as he throbs within you.

His mind free from the fog, everything finally clear as his body finally relaxes.Your fingers now stroking his cheek as he lent against your hand finally coming down from the high.

“I’m sorry…this wasn’t exactly how I wanted our first time to happen but.”

Chucking weakly you ran your feelings through Leon’s hair, the man melting into your touch. Of course the man would revert into his caring self. “Leon. You don’t have to apologize, I mean it’s not the most romantic place but I’m not complaining.” Placing a kiss you his cheek you then gave him a teasing smile. “But next time you want to fuck me, pick a place that’s more comfortable.” You teased.

Snorting Leon captured your lips in for one last kiss before he finally pulled out from your warmth.Watching the cum slipping out of your warmth was stirring something with him, forcing himself to look away he cleared out his throat tugging his pants back up. “Sorry for…tossing your clothes away.”

Blinking, you narrowed your eyes, a smile forming on your lips as you started to put your clothes back on. “How’s that fair that I’m the only one that got naked.”

Once you were finally dressed Leon placed his hands on your hips. “I promise…next time we’ll both be naked.”

“Hmm and I’ll be comfortable.”

Placing his fingers under your chin he forced you to look at him. “You’ll be very comfortable.”

Grinning you gave him another kiss before pulling away. “Good, now before we go and you know rescue Ashley again. How are you feeling?.”

Closing his eyes, Leon clutched your hips. He hummed. “A lot better actually, I love you. I should have said that in the beginning.”

“I love you too Leon.”

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pedrointofolklore · 10 months

Text

This is me trying

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: joel hated you. he hated the risks you took, the danger you put yourself in, the total lack of value you had for your own life. he hated how much he worried about you. click here for part two.

warnings: detailed depictions of depression, heavily implied suicidal ideation, slight violence, angst with a sprinkle of fluff, no explicit smut but it does get very suggestive (minors do not interact), minor character death, enemies to lovers, poor communication, misunderstandings, these fools don’t know how to act, joel is an asshole but then he’s sweet, brief mention of drug use, lots of swearing, age gap (unspecified), no use of y/n, boston era/ellie era.

word count: 2.6k

a/n: hey y’all. i just wanted to thank everyone who supported my last story rosebud (here’s a link if you want to read it). this story is a lot different and a lot sadder. i got the title from my favourite pop girlie taylor alison swift.

Joel hated you. It had to be his worst kept secret.

You hadn’t done anything to him. You used to think about it constantly, desperate to know what his reason was for despising you like he did, but you eventually accepted that he didn’t need a reason. He just didn’t like you.

Joel wasn’t particularly likeable himself. He was rude and intimidating and one of the most morally bankrupt people you’d ever met, but you didn’t hate him the way he hated you. You were Tess’s lackey—Joel tolerated you, and you supposed he wasn’t obligated to do any more than that. Although, he didn’t do it very well.

You’d existed in each other’s orbit in the QZ for a while, and finally met one night in the boarded-up old mall when you’d gotten to a stash of painkillers just before them. Joel wouldn’t have hesitated to shoot you between the eyes if Tess hadn’t been there.

Tess saw something in you—not a friend, not a life worth sparing by virtue of humanity; a business investment.

And it was a smart investment. You were young, agile and clever, incredible at slipping by unnoticed and gathering information. You knew all the best routes, the best times to take them, and you could swindle anyone out of their rations just by batting your eyelashes. You were willing to take the lead, to be the first one in and out to make sure the coast was clear.

It wasn’t the threat of death or the promise of mercy that made you join them—it was the sense of purpose it gave you.

Joel was adamantly against it. Things worked fine the way they did them, and he saw no reason to add another person into it.

“Don’t need to fix something that ain’t broken,” was how he’d put it.

You didn’t dispute that. Joel and Tess had survived for years, and they were clearly more than capable of getting the job done, but what you lacked in experience, you made up for in stealth and speed—something their aging knees struggled with.

Tess convinced Joel, which you soon found out she was very good at. You also found out that his compliance didn’t mean hiding his resentment.

He thought you were a careless, impulsive loose cannon, and he’d told you so after a particularly dicey deal with a particularly dicey FEDRA agent.

“You’re gonna get yourself killed one of these days.” He followed you into your apartment uninvited. Tess made him walk you home, and you were sure he only did it because he wanted to berate you.

“Why do you care?” you asked, tossing your keys onto the counter. They slid off and hit the floor.

“You’re with us,” Joel replied. “You'll get us killed.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes—you knew that infuriated him. “Am I on crack or have you not doubled your profits since I showed up?”

“I think you’re dangerous,” Joel said, ignoring you. “Always sneakin’ around, goin’ places you shouldn’t, playin’ mind games with FEDRA. Your luck’s gonna run out sooner or later, and I just hope I’m not around when it does.”

Your face burned with red-hot anger as you tried to fight the stinging in your eyes and the blurring of your vision, but you were too far gone. The tears fell, and they were ceaseless. You felt pathetic, but you knew this would happen. You didn’t often cry from sadness or pain, but anger always managed to bring it out in you.

“Who the fuck are you to tell me that?” you hissed. “You’re saying you don’t sneak around? You’ve never scammed anyone? You’re a smuggler, Joel! Be fucking real with me.”

“It’s different,” he said, clenching his jaw.

“Why, because you’re older? Because you have more experience?”

“‘Cause I don’t think I’m fuckin’ special.”

If his words were the dagger, the pure contempt in his tone was what plunged it into your stomach, twisted it, and left a gaping hole for all of your despair to come pouring out of, leaving behind a puddle of melancholia for him to gaze at in all its miserable glory.

It was the only time you might have hated Joel as much as he hated you. Working with him and Tess wasn’t perfect, but it was all you had, and now he’d managed to make it all meaningless. Your help wasn’t helping.

“Fuck you, Joel,” you spat.

You should have quit then, and you thought about it. After pounding your fists into Joel’s chest and screaming at him to get the fuck out of your apartment, you sunk down onto the floor and cried. You cried until you ran out of tears and were left with a nothing but a throbbing headache. You took a pill, passed out, and woke up to you discover that you’d lost the energy to really care about any of it.

You didn’t quit. If anything, you became even more audacious, but you never confused it with courage or bravery. Bravery was perseverance in the face of terror. Joel and Tess were brave. You weren’t like them.

Joel laid off after that. He wasn’t anything close to nice, but whatever animosity he held towards you was only ever expressed as quiet seething, and you could live with that.

Any fulfilment you got out of working with Joel and Tess dissolved, but for what it was, it still worked.

Until it didn’t.

Tess was dead. The buffer between you and Joel was gone, and you had no choice but to work together and get the immune girl to Colorado.

You wondered if there was a silver-lining in this wreckage. You thought that circumstance might force Joel to finally get along with you, and so you did the one thing you never did—you tried. You tried to help him, tried to speak to him like he was someone you actually wanted to speak to, tried to rein in some of your more annoying traits so you wouldn’t get on his nerves.

None of it worked. All you could get out of Joel seemed to be irritated mumbles and blank stares, and you couldn’t even blame him after what happened to Tess.

You never really knew if Tess actually gave a shit about you, or if she only ever cared about having an extra pair of hands around. Either way, you cared about her.

So, once again, you tried. When Joel and Ellie were sleeping—or at least pretending to—you walked down to the stream and tried to cry for her, but you couldn’t muster the tears. You even tried to get angry, mentally cuss her out for leaving you behind, but your eyes were dry.

You stared into the water, gazing at the way it sparkled in the starlight, and thought that the world didn’t deserve such a pretty sight. You couldn’t cry, but a deep sadness overtook you, weighing you down like lead.

Joel didn’t hate you.

He just hated how impulsive and reckless you were. He hated that you were smart, intuitive, and so maddeningly beautiful. He hated the risks you took, the danger you put yourself in, the total lack of value you had for your own life. He hated how much he worried about you.

There was a time he had disliked you. He used to think it was arrogance—that you truly believed you were so special that you could get away with anything. It was when he called you out on it that he realised how wrong he was.

Your reaction was frightening. You cried and screamed at him, pushed him out of your space. He didn’t know you were capable of such a strong display of emotion, but he’d struck a nerve, and those were the repercussions.

He recalled how the blows to his chest didn’t hurt, like there was no force behind them. You weren’t weak at all, you just couldn’t find the willpower to really hurt him. He wished you had hurt him. Maybe getting it out of your system would have helped. Maybe he wouldn’t have had to feel so guilty.

It became so obvious to him what was happening, and he felt like an idiot for not understanding it sooner. It wasn’t that you thought you were special, or immune to the consequences—you just didn’t care what happened to you.

Now Tess was gone, and he had this horrible feeling that he was going to lose you too.

His way of dealing with it was to push you away even more. He told himself it would make things easier when you inevitably left him.

Things came to a head one night after the three of you left Lincoln. Joel had been driving all day, and he would be doing it again the next day. He was in desperate need of sleep, but as he stared out into the eerie darkness of the woods, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something terrible would happen if he didn’t stay awake.

He heard the rustling of a sleeping bag sometime after midnight. He thought it was you just rolling over in your sleep—something you often did—but then he heard the faint sound of dead leaves crunching under feet, and you were by his side a moment later.

“What are you doing, Joel?” you asked in a soft, sleepy voice that made his chest ache.

“Keepin’ watch,” he replied bluntly.

“But you’re driving tomorrow,” you said. “You need sleep.”

“I’m fine.”

“I’ve slept, so I can take over,” you offered.

“I just told you I’m fine.”

“I’m just trying to help—”

“I don’t need your fucking help.”

You backed off, hanging your head in shame, and he instantly felt horrible—you were being nice to him and he was still being a complete asshole.

Joel tried to tear his gaze away from you. He wanted to pretend this wasn’t happening, that he hadn’t just done that, but his eyes stayed on you. He watched the shame dissolve and replace itself with indignation. You pulled your head up and glared at him with a fire in your eyes that threatened to burn right through him.

“I get it, okay? I’m sorry.”

“What are you talkin’ about?”

“I never meant for you to get stuck with me. I know it’s your worst fucking nightmare. If I could switch places with Tess—“

“Stop.” He wouldn’t hear that. He couldn’t. It would kill him. “That’s not—I’m not thinkin’ that. I’m glad you’re here, understand? I need you with me.”

You let out a bitter laugh. The sound hit his ears like a gunshot. “You just told me you didn’t. All you’ve done—all you’ve ever done—is act like I’m a fucking waste of space.”

Joel’s mouth when dry, his heart dropped to his stomach, and he thought he might vomit. It shouldn’t have shocked him like it did, but hearing you say it made him sick. He put the gun he’d been clutching down on the ground, disarming himself in more ways than one. “I don’t think that…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I just—fuck—I don’t know. I don’t know anything. Are you gonna leave?”

“Leave this mission or this mortal coil?"

“Either, I guess.”

“Do you want me to leave?” Your voice was just a whisper, and it felt like you were ripping Joel’s heart out and crushing it in your hands.

Fuck no, he didn’t want you to leave, and that was what scared him the most; feeling attached to someone so detached (and yes, he was a hypocrite). He wouldn’t be able to take it if he woke up one day and you were gone.

But he couldn’t keep doing this to you. It was selfish and cowardly and it just made everything worse. He made everything worse.

“I can’t do this without you,” he told you. He hadn’t known how true it was until he said it.

“Okay.”

“I’m serious.” He felt suddenly impassioned. “You can’t…if you…just don’t. Promise me you won’t.” He couldn’t say it, couldn’t let the words out of his mouth and into the universe. You both knew what he meant.

“I promise,” you said. You sounded oddly tranquil, but Joel was destroyed, even though he knew he didn’t have the right to be—this was entirely his fault.

“Can you let me keep watch so you can get some sleep?” you asked again.

He shook his head.

“Why not?”

“Just need to know where you are.”

You stared at him, eyes wide and glossy, and for a second he thought you might start crying. Before he could think of something to do or say, your hands were on either side of his face, pulling him down into an urgent kiss.

He didn’t know what was happening, what you were thinking, or what he was thinking, but it didn’t matter, he just knew he needed to kiss you back. One of his hands found your waist while the other splayed out across your back, pulling you flush against him.

It was nowhere near sweet. It was intense and unyielding—a frantic clashing of teeth and bruising of lips. It was intoxicating, earth-shattering, but felt so right, like it was always meant to happen—or needed to happen.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, somehow bringing him impossibly closer to you. You hiked a leg up around his hip and tugged his pelvis forward. He ran a hand down from your waist, brushing it over your ass and gripping your thigh.

You rolled your hips into his, eliciting a deep, involuntary groan from him. He was painfully hard. He knew he would regret this, but he set your leg down and managed to tear his mouth away from yours.

He missed the feeling immediately, and he didn’t have the self-control to pull away completely. His hands were still on you, pressing you against him. You looked so pretty and ruined gazing back at him; breathless and flustered with pink, swollen lips.

Fuck.

You had just kissed Joel Miller, the man you hated.

You didn’t hate him.

You kissed the man who hated you.

He didn’t hate you.

You kissed the only person you had left. You kissed him even though it made no sense. You kissed him because you wanted to.

You started it, but then he stopped it. His eyes were dark, his face was flushed, and the bulge in his jeans was not going away. He looked like he was in pain, struggling with his own conscience.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t be sorry.” He grinned softly and reached a hand up to tangle in your hair. It was an unexpectedly sweet gesture. “I liked it.”

Your heart melted. He was so lovely, so dear. You never imagined in your wildest dreams that Joel Miller could be like this.

“Just don’t wanna take advantage,” he said.

“You’re not. I kissed you,” you reminded him.

“I know, but you're upset, and you don’t like me much, and you’re tired. Don’t want you doing anything you don’t actually wanna do.”

You did want it, but you were also overwhelmed and exhausted, and more importantly, it would have been a majorly fucked up thing to do with a 14 year old sleeping 20 feet away.

“But if you still want it later”—he gave you another chaste kiss—“you can have it.”

You giggled, kissing him one more time. You didn’t know when you'd be able to again.

His gentle smile faded, and he looked into your eyes with devastating sincerity. “I got you now, okay?”

“I know, Joel.”

“Do you have me?” he asked.

“I’m trying.” You hoped that would be enough, because it was all you had.

“That’s all I need, sweetheart.”

a/n: so i wrote most of this when i was sick with the flu and i fully intended for it to be a one-shot, but i love this dynamic and i’m thinking of exploring it further. let me know if y’all would be interested in seeing more of these two. (edit: this a/n is now redundant bc i did in fact write the sequel).

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller imagine #the last of us #pedro pascal #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction

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cybersunnie · 7 days

Text

18+ / MDNI cock warming; f!reader (wc 992) with PATRICK ZWEIG

There was a story about the tortoise and the hare, and Patrick Zweig was the hare.

Slow and steady wasn't exactly his style.

He was quick and impulsive. Careless and arrogant. Annoyingly—or admirably?—persistent like the suffocating heat on a hot summer day. If you spared one glance at Patrick, you'd think he was nothing but smug. And he was well aware of all of this, too. He just never cared much about what other people thought of him, to begin with.

But Patrick loved a challenge, and he sure liked taking his sweet time with you. Or, more accurately, he enjoyed making you squirm.

He'd have his cock stuffed inside your cunt, and tease you with lingering touches and chaste kisses until you caved in and begged him to fuck you. With Patrick, it was all fire and the wrong kind of love. But sometimes, when he felt a little nicer, he just wanted to be close to you, to become one with you, heartbeats linked and breathing the same breath.

And with how poorly he had been doing in his last few matches, he needed that semblance of human connection he had lost years ago.

The night was young, but Patrick was eager to have you. His hungry kisses left your lips raw, and his mouth traveled south and started to nip at your jaw, his nose digging into your cheek. Everything he did was to distract you. Distract you from the burning sensation you felt as his cock stretched you out.

"There you go, atta girl."

Patrick kept a firm grip on your hips, his thumbs caressing the skin there to soothe your nerves. You always got so flustered whenever you tried to take him. And that was because you felt all of him. The tuft of hair on his pubic bone, the veins on his cock. You'd whine, tell him that it was too much, that he was too big, as if your pussy wasn't made for him.

He liked it, though.

Because in the end, you looked so pretty, sitting on his fat cock.

You heard him groan, low and guttural, and his large hands snaked up to your ribs, stopping just beneath your breasts. His touch was electrifying—everything about him was—and it sent a slight buzz through your body. And the sight of him alone wasn't helping. Patrick's wild hair and deep green eyes and that fucking smirk he never went without. But as much as you wanted to move, you couldn't. He wouldn't allow it. Not yet.

"Fuck, look at you." Patrick slid a hand further up to cup your breast, and you wondered if he could feel your pounding heart. "I could stare at you for hours."

You raised a brow. "I hope that's not the only thing you'll be doing."

"No, no," he said softly, his gaze darting over your face while he let his other hand wander, fingers tracing up your arm and leaving goosebumps in its wake. "But it's tempting."

Patrick watched you roll your eyes, and he chuckled, grasping your hips once again and squeezing. He wished he could just keep his cock inside you all night, your cunt keeping it warm and wet and snug. But you were always too fussy to stay still for long. He supposed that was his fault—he did like spoiling you, after all.

"I have an idea."

Ideas and Patrick Zweig didn't mix well. You learned that early on when you first met him. And as you looked into his eyes, seeing the playful mischief within, you knew you were in for a treat whether you liked it or not.

He took your silence as an invitation to continue, so he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear and voice velvety, "We should do this in front of a mirror next time."

Or maybe ideas and Patrick Zweig did mix well.

Your mind started to reel, imagination running wild. But Patrick painted the picture for you like it was something he had been thinking about for a while.

"You'd have no choice but to look at yourself—to look at just how fucking pretty you are when you're like this," Patrick whispered, his voice beginning to get lost in the heat and longing. "I'd keep your legs spread nice and wide so that you can see how my dick looks stuffed inside your sweet pussy." You squirmed, but his grip tightened around your hips. A silent warning to stay still. "Maybe you'd finally understand why I do this to you every time."

He pulled away from your ear, a hand leaving your hip to caress your cheek, his touch soft despite his calloused palm. All you could do was stare at him with a tight chest. "I care about you, you know," he laughed as if to hide the sincerity behind his words. "I'm not just trying to get a quick fuck. I wanna take my time, stay close to you longer."

For once, his name tasted sweet on your tongue. "Patrick."

It was a prayer disguised as a whisper, a plea for his words to be true. And he hummed, his lips brushing yours as he uttered your name back. If this was the wrong kind of love, why did it feel so right? Why did he feel so right?

You tried to swallow down your pride. "Please."

"Please, what?" Patrick asked, but he knew what you wanted. He was connected to you. Your thoughts were his, too. "C'mon, use your words, baby."

But you couldn't bring yourself to say more, to accept defeat. You pulled your lips taut.

"No? Nothing?" He tilted his head, and his signature smirk was back. "Well, let me know when you figure it out."

And while Patrick was much like the hare, he knew he needed to take it slow and steady when it came to you. You would surrender to him sooner or later. You always did.

author's note: i have very mixed feelings abt this 😄 ANYWHO i will gladly give patrick everything he needs which is a shower and a bed

UNEDITED — 05.14.2024

#patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig x you #patrick zweig smut #challengers #challengers smut #josh o'connor #✶ — sunnie writes challengers!#✶ — patrick zweig

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