#or in one of the newer ones saying that the hints have been there for the other half to go on this journey

[outrunningthedark]

@ anon (you'll know who you are)

[dixonsbrat]

𖥔 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐀𝐏 𖥔

summary ; your relationship with daryl only deepens when he reaches an all new level of vulnerability with you.

pairing ; daryl dixon x girlfriend!reader

notes ; established relationship, fluff + angst, mentions of scars.

do not transfer, translate or share my work to any other sites.

daryl’s eyes stay locked on you as he slowly shrugged off his shirt, the scars and markings on his olive-toned skin now fully visible in the dimly lit room. large jagged lines of damaged tissue stretched along his back, some old and overlapping, while others were newer and more defined. each one told a story of the battles he had survived. the pain he had endured. every one of them making him the man you had grown to love.

you knew daryl had scars, just as you all did, but you had only ever glimpsed his before in passing - an accidental run-in while he was changing - but this was different. this was deliberate, a conscious choice he was making to bare not just his skin, but a part of himself that he typically kept hidden. the act alone spoke volumes about the growing trust he had implemented in you. no matter how hard he tried to remain his usual stoicism and keep you at arms length, you had weaselled your way into his heart, and there was no turning back now. 

“i told ya, they ain’t pretty,” his voice is low and rough as he spoke, a hint of insecurity in his guarded gaze.

“no, they aren’t,” you say softly, agreeing with his comment as you slowly and cautiously step towards him. “but they’re a part of you, of who you are, and i think you’re the most beautiful person i’ve ever met.”

daryl’s body tensed slightly as your fingers gingerly touch one of his larger scars, the rough callused skin shifting beneath your light touch. his breath hitched for a moment, his gaze locked on you through the mirror before him, watching every movement closely. 

no one had ever touched his scars before, not like this, but he doesn’t pull away. instead, he stayed still, letting you explore the map of his history etched deep into his flesh. it was like electric jolts through his system, the way your soft touch sent a shiver across his skin under your fingertips. no one had ever touched him with such tenderness, especially not his scars. the air around them seemed to crackle with tension as he gazed down at you, the weight of your words and touch hitting him deep in his heart. 

his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, voice barely above a whisper, “ain’t nobody ever called me ‘beautiful’ before.”

“... you are.” 

a soft whale escapes his lips as you wrap your arms around him, pulling him back into the comfort of your soft embrace. the feel of your body against his back shoots sparks through his core, and he subconsciously leans into your touch, craving more of the soothing warmth. 

he feels your lips graze his shoulder blade, the tenderness of a kiss sending a shiver down his spine. the gesture almost undoes him as you nuzzle into him and he lets out a low, shaky breath.

“do you not think you are?” you ask. 

he hesitates for a moment, his rugged features etched with a mix of vulnerability and self-doubt as he struggles with the unfamiliar praise. 

“dunno,” he mutters, voice gruff. “never thought of myself as beautiful, just a tough old redneck who’s been in a few fights.” 

he glances over his shoulder at you, dark eyes assessing, waiting for your reaction. the walls he had built up over years of pain and rejection are starting to show cracks, revealing the deeply insecure man underneath. the man that very few people got to see.

“that may be who you think you are, but that doesn’t mean it’s all that you are.”

his gaze locks onto yours, raw and exposed. he’s not used to having someone see him, not just the scars on his body, but the scars of his soul. his throat feels tight, but he manages a raspy reply.

“yeah?” he cocks his head slightly, his usual gruffness undercut with a hint of vulnerability he can’t quite hide. not with you. “what else am i then?”

with each word you speak, you press a kiss to his back, “you’re a strong… courageous… loyal… caring… stubborn…misguided…gentle…man, who deserves far more than this world can offer him.” 

with each word and each kiss, daryl feels a wave of emotion well up within him, his defences slowly crumbling. the way you speak about him, your words dripping with genuine sincerity, stirs something deep inside of him. it’s almost too much, and he has to resist the urge to pull you into his arms. 

he huffs out a wry, amused laugh when you call him stubborn, “and i’m just supposed to believe all that?”

“like i said… stubborn.” you press one more kiss to his back, smiling into it. 

daryl can’t help but let out a husky chuckle as your lips press into his back once more. his head dips down, trying to hide the slight blush that creeps across his cheeks at your teasing. 

“yeah, guess you’re right on that one,” he mutters, grudgingly admitting defeat. he then glances over his shoulder, his gruff exterior crumbling a little more. “you forgot somethin’ though.”

your eyes narrow playfully as he now turns to face you. his arms wrap around your waist and he pulls you against his muscular frame in a gesture that’s both tender and possessive at the same time. his dark eyes are intense as they look down at you, searching yours for a moment as he gathers his thoughts. 

when he speaks, his voice is softer than usual, and there’s a slight nervous twinge to his tone, “you forgot to say i’m yours.”

you smile, leaning up to kiss him but stop just before you do, your lips barely brushing against his, “that’s just a known fact, sweetheart.”

the closeness of your lips against his was enough to make sparks dance under his skin. but your coy response, that hint of a tease in your voice, does him in, and he’s powerless against the magnetic pull between you both. when you finally close the distance and kiss him, he responds almost immediately, the kiss deep and intense right from the start. 

his arms tighten around your waist, his hands splaying across your lower back to pull you even closer, eliminating any space between you. his lips move against yours in a desperate dance, a silent affirmation of what you both already knew. 

when you finally break apart, he rests his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged and his heart pounding as if it wants to leap out of his chest. he gazes down at you, a mix of awe and wonder in his eyes as he takes in the vision of you, your swollen lips and flushed cheeks. he looks almost dazed, as if he’s trying to process the fact that you, a creature of such beauty and kindness, exists in his crazy, unnatural life.

a small, disbelieving chuckle escapes him as he speaks, “the hell’d i do to deserve you?”

“everything. you did everything to deserve me.” you reassure him, his heart swelling in his chest as you do. 

he lets out a shaky exhale as you kiss him again, his hands gripping your waist a little tighter, like he’s afraid you might disappear if he lets go for even a second. 

when he speaks again, his voice is low, rough around the edges with unguarded emotion, “don’t you ever leave me.”

“even if i did, i know you’d find me,” you run a hand through his hair, an adoring smile on your face as his eyes flutter shut at the touch. he lets out a low hum, the corners of his mouth curving up into a rare smile. 

he opens his eyes to look at you again, his gaze filled with a mixture of adoration and determination, “i’d tear this whole world apart to find ya if i had to.”

“and i’d be waiting for you.”

[tojisun]

lalalalala bf!logan fucking reader n letting his friend wade watch :D

kicking my feet n twirling my hair while reading this hhh // cw: v rambly (bcuz its in wade’s pov); voyeurism; smut; hinted age gap between logan n f!reader // divider by @/plutism

it starts off like this—

“s’not how y’pick up women, big mouth,” logan murmured, his voice coming out in stilted grunts. wade, still in his suit, sighed and dramatically turned to his friend, because the sacred not-so-corpse is his friend even if logan denies it, and pointed baby knife at him. the pretty girl took that chance to run away with a chirped, ‘bye mr. wolverine sir!’ like wade wasn’t right there, wooing her with his magic words.

“and how would you know?” he asked because last he checked logan was single and emotionally unavailable.

he watched as logan downed the rest of his whiskey, adams apple bobbing in a painfully sexy way, before replying, “cuz i have the sweetest darlin’ waitin’ for me at home.”

fucking what.

.

logan brings him ‘home’; home apparently happens to be a little flat sitting in the outskirts of the city. the building is newer than wade’s apartment complex, and it sure as hell smells better too. the walls are all white and high-ceiling, and the elevator even had quiet music playing in the background. it was such an awkward ride up to the tenth floor because he’s sure he and logan are not exactly the target tenants of this place, but logan had a fob to get in so clearly they’re not in the wrong building.

he checks himself out in the elevator mirror, noting the parts in his costume that he needs to deal with, before the quiet ding wakes him up from his thoughts. logan leads the two of them deeper into the complex, bypassing apartment doors until they get to the one on the far side of the east wing.

logan punches in the code, and wade hums throughout, teasingly asking if logan was the sugar baby because there’s no way he’s the one paying for this flat. logan ignores him, grumbling every now and then, but he’s more subdued and achingly patient. it’s fucking bizarre if wade is being honest but then they’re inside the flat—pretty greens and browns, and just utterly so homey—and logan’s yelling a name. socked feet pad against the floor, before a body rounds the hallway and into their vantage point.

for the record, wade knows that no one will ever be as beautiful as vanessa. like, he’s a hundred-percent confident in that. but this pretty bird that jumped into logan’s arms, all giggly and beaming, comes close.

“you’re home!” you cheer, your lips curled into the softest of smiles as you look at logan, blind and deaf to wade’s presence in the face of your lover.

wade watches as logan hums, nuzzling his face on yours. the two of you breathe each other in, like you are familiarizing yourselves with the other’s scent, and wade would have been fine with just being a spectator—logan had clearly already forgotten about him with the way his greedy hands began pawing at your ass—but then you’re fluttering your eyes open and accidentally locking them with wade’s.

a yell bubbles from your throat, spilling raggedly. you try to jump off logan’s arms, shyness encroaching in, but he isn’t budging. instead, thick arms pull you ever so closer, pressing your front flush to his own, until you feel his warmth seeping through your shirt.

“won’t you grant me somethin’, bub?” logan murmurs, his eyes glinting dangerously.

you flick your eyes back to wade, watching as the… vigilante? raises his hands and wiggles his fingers to you in greeting. a pinch on your ass cheek makes you squeak, and you look back to logan with a pout because—“wh’d’ya want?”

logan does this little crooning laugh before murmuring something to you. you freeze in his arms, lips parting in surprise, and wade so dearly wants to know what else did logan say for your shock to melt into something contemplative, before your lips purse in your mulling interest.

“okay,” you whisper, breathily.

logan chuckles and presses a kiss on your temple. “thank you, sweet girl.”

“uhm, what exactly is going on here?” wade finally asks, tired of being left out but neither the pretty bird nor his friend give him a reply. wade was ready to go complaining but then logan sends him a wolfish—heh—grin and tilts his head in invitation.

.

wade feels like his mind and his cock would explode anytime soon.

this is the third time you’ve cum and logan has yet to actually fuck you with his dick. he’s coaxed your orgasms out, all high-pitched and squeaky, with just his fingers and the whispered croons of something so achingly sweet it almost feels odd that they’re uttered while he’s spreading you with his fingers.

wade didn’t even know what the hell was happening—remaining clueless while he followed you and logan into the cutesy little room—until you were stripped off your shirt and pants, and left with nothing but your matching lingerie set. it’s pink and made of lace, and is pretty against your skin, and wade wonders if you actually walk around with that every chance or if you knew logan was going to visit.

either way, wade’s cock is straining in his boxers ever since logan made you lick his fingers—“lap a’them well, baby, oth’wise it’s gon’ hurt.”—before plunging them in your cunt. the first orgasm was a quiet thrill, the room swelling with unsaid words past your muffled moans because no one wanted to break the moment.

the second one was more intense, with logan’s fingers now drenched and your pussy leaking. the squelch was pornographic, and wade’s ears tingled at every wet shlop, but then logan began to be louder. bolder. meaner.

“y’don’t piss yerself like this when’s jus’ me,” he grunted, lifting a thick brow up in question. it pulled out an embarrassed whine from you, before you hid your face underneath your arm at the implication that being watched made you wetter.

being acknowledged mid-fingering had wade jumping, his blood thrumming downwards, and he had to stab his thigh with a dagger to stop himself from interrupting because logan had shot him a sneer—a demand that wade be patient—before turning to you again, his free hand pulling your arm away.

“look at me, bub. wan’ see you when you cum,” he rumbled, before nuzzling kisses over your trembling lips.

now bare and exposed again, wade saw the exact moment logan’s fingers hit somewhere delicious because your mouth fell for a soundless moan, your body rising from the bed, locking, legs shaking, before a spray gushed out of your cunt.

it was so utterly beautiful, it had wade whimpering, aching himself, but he’s ignored once again with logan leaning down to kiss you filthy. it’s all tongue and teeth, and maws snapping at each other in some weird sexual battle, until spit and breaths were vividly being exchanged.

logan pulled his fingers out, and wade had to twist the knife he’s buried on his thigh to ground himself into silence, but it was futile—he so wanted to lick logan’s fingers clean; to suckle every juice until those digits were glistening with just his spit and no longer your essence, not when wade was done with logan’s hand. but logan was selfish, and he swallowed his own fingers, lapping at every ridges like a man starved.

it honest to god looked awful and disgusting, but wade’s too far gone in his lust to even judge because he would’ve done the same too.

the third orgasm was more quiet and less life-changing, and wade understands why it was rushed and contained—it was the final foreplay, one that logan had just dragged on to punish wade, he’s sure. it was the last tease because now, you’re going to be rewarded.

logan shifts the two of you on the bed, changing angles and manhandling your body until you’re on your front, ass up and presenting to logan. wade watches, hands twitching from where they’re currently gripping the handles of his chair, as logan mounts you.

it looks like a mating act. it’s animalistic and ragged—logan humping his cock between your ass cheeks, grunting to himself, until he’s finally lining up his cock to your sweet hole. there was a moment when they both froze, hesitating, and wade must have made some sort of noise because two pairs of eyes snapped in his way instantly.

he didn’t even realize that logan’s arranged for you to be facing wade, and something about the conscious inclusion of wade within this intimate act makes him whimper-y and less… chirpy. hell, he’s yet to even pipe up and comment, too busy trying not to jizz inside his boxers because he’s certain that logan would kick him out after this and no one in their right mind wants to trek home with drying spunk in their boxers.

a shrill keen tears him away from his thoughts, and he snaps his head up, greedily devouring the vision you and logan make. and you two make a mean porno—you’ve got wade wistfully sighing at the way you go cross-eyed at the slow plunge of logan’s cock in your pussy. it’s not like wade can blame you; he’s seen the sheer girth of his friend, and you’re an honest to god champ for taking all that in.

no wonder logan’s fingered you to three orgasms because that cock is humongous. wade’s sure he can even pitch wolverine’s dick as the next international threat to the avengers because who the hell allowed logan to have that dong? it’s fucked how the sacred corpse also gets to have a sacred dick.

but wade continues to watch, enamoured, as logan uses your body as his personal fucktoy—his big hands grip your waist, dimpling your skin, before using the purchase as leverage for him to rut and hump and drill.

god, there’s so much drilling. you scream, unable to compartmentalize the gravity of your pleasure, leaving you to scramble for purchase amidst your sobs. you claw at the sheets, fisting them until they’re a rumpled mess, because your pleasure is so much bigger than you’ve expected, and it is so much better than you remembered.

it’s been a while since logan’s fucked you, and while he’s teased you for being so horny with deadpool watching, you can say the fucking same to logan. this is the first he’s fucked you like a man possessed—all beastly and overwhelming; ruining you like he’s never had his fill.

it’s so good and it’s too much, and wade’s now fucking his fist, watching raptly, and you want to put on a good show. you want to—

“y’really love bein’ watched, huh bub?” logan mockingly coos, his voice a pitch quiet so that he won’t be overheard by your visitor. you don’t even remember replying, with your mind struggling to match the pace and the intensity of the pleasure that logan pumped into you.

all you remembered was the: fuckfuckfuckfuck— i’m cumming! i’m cumming—

shit? shitshitshit.

wade tightens his fist around his cock, matching the pace logan’s set. it was fast and brutal, and the kevlar of his suit feels odd against the oversensitive head, but he continues to leak, his cock rubbed raw with twist of his fist, losing himself to the ringing moans because shit—wade wants to fuck you so bad.

y’think logan’s gonna allow him a taste?

this is so rambly and not fleshed out well but i had fun writing it!! thank u sm for the ask 😭🫶🏼

pt 02 of some sorts

[xxbimbobunnyxx]

Older!DinerOwner!Eddie x Fem!Reader

This is for my 1.6k celebration based on the prompt “make me” requested by @gri959 ❣️

Summary: You’ve been fucking your boss for almost a year now and he still won’t make it official, so you decided to take matters into your own hands. Wk: 1.5k

Warnings: Age gap(Eddie is early 40s reader is mid 20s), jealous/possessive Eddie, spanking, hair pulling, unprotected sex, breeding kink. 18+MNDI!!

You were driving Eddie absolutely insane, and you knew it too. It was like somehow your little work dress seemed even tighter tonight and the way you were walking around swinging your hips, leaning down on your hands in front of customers faces, giving them a nice little peek at your perfect tits.

It didn’t help that you were being extra flirty with the new line cook, Alex. He was your age and he honestly kind of reminded Eddie of himself when he was younger. Why would you want him when you could have the newer model? But despite his insecurity that was rearing its ugly head, Eddie knew he had you wrapped around his thick ringed finger and that you were just doing this to rile him up.

“When you’re done with this table, come talk to me.” Eddie brushes past you while you’re taking an order, leaning down to whisper in your ear. You make eye contact with him just long enough for him to see you roll your eyes as he’s walking off.

“What’s up?” You walk over to where Eddie is standing behind the counter near the register and look up at him all innocently, which you are far from.

“What’s up? You know exactly what’s up, I know what you’re doing, quit it out.” Eddie looks down at you through slanted eyes, his tone a gruff whisper.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about? I’m just doing my job.” You raise an eyebrow at him and set your lips into a mock pout.

“Drop the innocent act. You’re trying to make me jealous, just admit it.” He smirks at you and leans down further than is probably appropriate for a boss and employee, but he honestly doesn’t give a fuck, it’s his diner, he can do whatever he wants.

“Why would I be trying to make you jealous? There’s nothing going on between us, right?” You turn your head slightly, lowering your voice even more to make absolutely sure only he would hear. “It’s just physical, right? So why would you be jealous?”

“You know what?” Eddie’s jaw ticks as he exhales through his nose. “I want to talk to you in my office after we close.”

“Yeah? About what? I have plans.”

“And I don’t care. I’m your boss and I need to speak to you about something regarding your job. Now get back to work.” He walks off, not giving you time to argue further.

“Okay, what’s the deal?” You walk into Eddie’s office, pushing the door closed behind you and stand in front of his desk with your arms crossed.

“Are you serious?” Eddie scoffs, abandoning the document he was signing on his desk in favor of glaring up at you.

“Umm yeah? You told me to meet you here and you didn’t say why so I’m asking what you wanted? Pretty normal if you ask me.” You shrug and Eddie swears he can make out the faintest hint of a smirk on your lips.

“Oh, sweetheart, don’t play games you know you’ll lose.” Eddie chuckles, pushing up from his chair to come around and lean against the desk in front of you. “You really thought you were being sneaky? Prancing around here like that, bending over right where I can see, flirting with my employees, did you get a new bra? I’m not blind, baby.”

“Like I said before, there’s nothing going on between us… so… why would you be jealous?” You fully smirk at him now and god he wants to wipe it off your pretty little face.

“Just admit it, you were trying to make me jealous.” Eddie returns your smirk with one of his own as he leans back on his hands and crosses his legs. He’s so hot in those black Dickies work pants and his non-slip converse. He has on his restaurant manager shirt that accentuates his toned chest and shows off his thick tattooed arms. His hair is in that low bun that you love to rip out when he goes down on you and his facial hair is just a little longer than usual. Fuck.

“Why don’t you just admit that you were jealous then?” You give him a pointed look and he exhales through his nose because he’s about at his limit with your attitude.

“You know what? Bend over the desk.” He steps to the side, patting his hand against the wood.

“Why don’t you make me?” You roll your eyes, a dry chuckle escaping your lips, and that’s his final straw. He closes the distance between you and laces his fingers through your hair, pulling your face so it’s inches from his as his glowers down at you with his honey eyed stare.

“I said bend over the fucking desk.” He says your name through gritted teeth as his grip on your hair tightens, causing you to whimper, your bratty facade already breaking. “I’m not going to ask again.”

“Fuck, okay.” He releases your hair and you whine as you walk on already semi shaky legs over to his desk, laying your top half across it, causing your dress to ride up and show off a sliver of your panties. “If you weren’t jealous you wouldn’t be all worked up like this so maybe you should just -“ your sentence is cut short when a harsh smack lands on your ass, making you yelp.

“Drop the attitude, doll.” Eddie’s hand pushes your dress up to reveal your plush asscheeks and tiny lacy underwear that barely cover anything. He pushes himself against you, his already hard cock brushing up against your barely covered pussy. His hands grip onto the globes of your ass, kneading it and shaking it in his palms. “I don’t know why you’re walking around here trying to act like this ass doesn’t belong to me, you know it does.”

“Maybe you should just get over yourself and make me your girlfriend then.” Your snarky tone earns you another spank, rougher than the last.

“What did I say about the attitude?” Both of his hands come down on your ass, his rings stinging against your skin causing you to moan. He does it again. And again. Until he starts to see faint welts from his rings and the marks of his handprints.

“This ass is mine.” One of his hands travels down to cup your pussy, thrusting the heel of his palm against your clit. “This pussy is fucking mine. Say it.”

“Admit you were jealous then.” Your voice comes out way whinier than you’d hoped, it practically sounds like you’re begging him as you subconsciously grind down against his hand. “Say you’re mine too.”

“You want me to be yours, baby, huh?” He pushes your panties to the side and runs his fingers through the slick lips of your pussy before bringing the tips of his fingers to your clit, circling it. “Tell me who owns this pussy then. Tell me and I’ll give you this dick.”

“It’s yours, Eddie, it’s all yours, m’yours.” You sound cock drunk already and he’s barely even touched you but you don’t even care. You want him so bad. You’re putty in his hands and he knows it.

“Yeah, that’s right baby girl, I fucking own you.” You hear the clanking of his belt before you feel the tip of his cock running through your folds, he collects your wetness, using his hand to jerk it along his shaft. He pushes his tip in, pulling it back out a few times before slamming into you. He starts fucking into you at a brutal pace, the desk sliding against the floor, your hips slapping together.

“Fuck, fuck yes, feels so good.” He’s so deep from this angle, practically bullying your sweet spot as your hips dig into the wood of the desk.

“Yeah, that’s right, take this fucking dick baby. This is my pussy, you’re so fucking tight, damn.” One of Eddie’s thick inked arms laces around your shoulders, pulling you up so your back is flush against his hard chest while his other finds your clit, his thumb rubbing quick circles against it.

“Oh god - fuck, fuck Eddie, I’m gonna cum.” You’re practically drooling as he plows into you from behind, he shoves his hand down your dress and into your bra, expertly finding your nipple and tweaking it between his fingers. “Shit, I’m cumming, tell me you’re mine Eddie, please, need to hear it.”

“I’m yours baby, this dick is fucking yours, pussy feels so fucking good squeezing me like that.” Eddie buries his face in the crook of your neck, placing sloppy open mouthed kisses there. “Gonna fill this pussy up, paint those pretty little walls, maybe I’ll knock you up, then everybody will really know who I belong to.”

“Yes, fucking fill me, fuck a baby into me, want it so bad.” Eddie groans, his hips still against yours as his cock twitches, ropes of his cum spilling inside you.

“Fuck, baby doll, fuck.” Eddie breathes heavily as he pulls out of you, grabbing onto your hips to flip you around. He reaches down between your legs, gathering the cum that dripped out so he can push it back inside of you. “Wouldn’t want any to go to waste, would we?”

Divider is by @strangergraphics & older!Eddie edit is by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple

[morning-star-joy]

daydreams

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, Post-Outbreak Jackson Era

Summary: It's been years since Joel's kissed anybody, and your lips are all he can think about.

Tags/Warnings: Soft, Touch-Starved, Pining Joel. Grumpy x Sunshine. Resolved Tension. Mentions of alcohol and food consumption. Brief mentions of sexual desire. Entirely in Joel's POV. No mention of Reader's age or appearance other than wearing lipstick in one scene.

Wordcount: 6.4k

A/N: Really enjoyed exploring an entire Joel x Reader fic all in his head, focusing on how he falls in love with Reader. Big thank you to @joelsgreys who was excited about this idea with me, and @cupofjoel who always inspires me with her own amazing work (and that Clicker joke she made that ended up in this fic hehe)!

Here's my Kofi if you're interested in supporting my work further💜

Beautiful dividers by @saradika

Masterlist

People fucking love you.

It was the first of many things that Joel was burdened to discover about you, small facts and inconsequential incidents about who you were as a person that floated around in his subconscious until they burrowed under his skin, much like you did.

He could remember checking his patrol schedule on the board one chilly autumn day. A scarf that was decades old but new to him, too soft for his rough skin, was wrapped around his neck and keeping him warm while he peered over the heads of two men crowding in front of the arranged names.

Despite Joel’s size, he had always been good at not being seen if he didn’t want to be, at least when it counted. It was a harder habit to keep up with in Jackson, a place where everybody wanted to know anybody at all. The feeling of at least one set of eyes on him at all times when he walked the streets was an odd juxtaposition to the foreign comfort that radiated inside the town’s tall walls.

Not a watch kept on him, but curiosity that peered at him around every corner. He had thought it would die down eventually, but it lingered with a stubbornness even years later.

Now though, both men didn’t have a care in the world for his presence behind him, crowding around the board and a pair of names he couldn’t quite glimpse until one of them turned, jumping at the sight of the unintentionally imposing figure at their back.

“Oh!” the man let out a noise of surprise before recomposing. He was a newer patrolman, his name starting with a C, Chuck or something. “Joel, hey man. Didn’t see you there.”

The familiarity in the way his name is spoken makes Joel bristle for a moment, but he calms his raised hackles before it can be noticed.

Back in Boston, his name had been a familiar one spoken too. But hints of apprehension, even fear crept around the syllables of those who knew it, those who had heard it whispered in the alleys of where he’d left somebody’s blood splattered against the dilapidated brick walls.

“Hey,” the other patrolman offers in greeting when he notices the pair aren’t alone anymore, and Joel nods, glancing towards the two names their heads had been bent down around when they moved out of the way.

There’s a name he doesn’t have a face to place to it, another person new to patrol. He’d only seen the name in passing on the board each time he checked assignments recently, though this time it's right above his own, listed as his partner on his next route.

“Lucky man,” the other patrolman says with a clap to Joel’s shoulder, and he hates it, jaw setting tight enough that the first patrolman gently nudges his friend away with a wary look.

“I’m always stuck with Willy,” the first one says, and Joel glances back towards the board, searching for that name and seeing it paired with Chad. Names for faces, a common courtesy in the settlement, one he still had a hard time keeping up with sometimes, even years into being here. “Been dying for a chance to head out with her.”

There’s a gesture back towards the name paired with Joel’s, and he stares at the letters written into the thin wooden plaques that are used to arrange assignments on the board. Stares so much even as his fellow patrolmen leave, chattering amongst themselves about Joel’s new partner as he frowns in confusion over why it wasn’t his brother’s name.

“You could use some friends,” Tommy explains with a jovial smile when Joel shows up on his doorstep to question him about the change, though there’s an undertone of ribbing to his tone that makes Joel glare at the younger man. “I figure she’s the perfect one to bring you out of that stubborn shell.”

Joel scoffs at that, brows still knitted together in frustration as he gets ready for bed the night before he’ll have to wake up early to head out with this unknown person on patrol. He’s annoyed over the idea of something as irrelevant as socialization trumping protection on his route, frustrated that he’d have to watch his own back for the dangers only a human could pose, as much as the trail ahead of him for Infected.

But then he meets you, and he understands.

At least, Joel understands why those men had been jealous of his patrol partner when he shows up at the assignment board the next morning, hoping to grab a hot drink in one of the thermoses provided before heading out. He prays for at least the last dregs of some coffee when he sees a small gathering of other patrolmen, including the two from before. All smiles and laughter, until one turns their head towards him.

Joel meets your eyes for the first time, a smile gracing your face as he does so, and he understands.

“Joel Miller,” is the first thing you ever say to him by way of greeting, uttering the syllables in near disbelief, like he’s some fabled myth you’ve finally caught a glimpse of. There’s an infectious, positive energy in the way you say his name to him, in the way you say everything, he’ll come to find. Like there’s things in the world still worthy of being spoken with such excitement. “Good to finally meet you.”

He just nods, eyes flickering to the disappointment on the faces of those gathered around you as your attention focuses solely on him. You move closer, holding up two thermoses in hand, Joel’s gaze narrowing down to them as you gesture with each and ask, “Coffee or tea?”

With a blink, he stares at each before looking back up into your face, noticing the hint of amusement across your features as his lips part, and the first thing he utters in your presence is an awkward hedge of, “Uh.”

Your lips quirk up into a wider smile, and Joel notices then that for all its brightness, it's almost half a smirk. There’s humor in your gaze, and he feels those sharp hackles of his start to rise again until you clarify kindly, “Which do you prefer?”

His brows knit together, looking back down into your hands, and he realizes you’re offering him the choice of which one he wants for the morning.

“Coffee,” he says instantly before his mind can catch up, and the point of your teeth peek past your lips now in a grin when you pass the thermos to him.

“Smart man,” you comment in passing, oblivious to how the two simple words will stick into his mind and replay themselves in the exact tone of your voice for weeks to come. “I prefer tea, anyway.”

You raise your own thermos to his, eyes twinkling with that same good humor, that warm mirth that suddenly makes Joel’s stomach flip when you add, “Looks like the start of a beautiful partnership.”

It is.

Joel hates to admit it, but you work startlingly well together.

He’s paranoid at first, glancing back over his shoulder at you every now and then, but your eyes are always trained on the area around you, keeping diligent watch. Except for when he’s staring at you for too long, for reasons he doesn’t know yet, or is too stubborn to believe.

You somehow always catch him in those stolen moments, smiling at him when he whips his head back around to refocus on the trail in front of him. Sometimes there’s a soft chuckle under your breath when he does so, and those are the times he stubbornly faces ahead for the rest of patrol, so you won’t see the heat creeping into his face that he curses every time you bring it out of him.

He’s too goddamn old to be blushing like a schoolboy, but around you, his body betrays his age and does it anyway.

Sometimes you talk to him. Joel can’t figure out for the life of him why. You certainly aren’t the type to ever be searching for conversation, a whole host of willing participants to speak with you gathering around you every morning before you set out for patrol with him.

But you talk to him anyway. Offer things about yourself and ask him questions in return, ones he hardly answers with more than a few words, if he even replies at all.

That doesn’t bother you. You continue the conversation, and though he barely says a thing, you manage to make him still feel involved. Like you’re not just talking at him, but with him.

It’s just something about you, Joel eventually realizes. There’s a charm about you that goes beyond just a natural charisma. It’s a force of gravity, as inexplicable as it is irresistible, pulling in those around you, and they don’t even care. They want it.

Because you’re not simply bubbly and friendly, but you’re warm. Warm and bright, pure sunshine that brighten up the shortening days, and at some point through that fall of patrolling with you, Joel finds himself riding beside you instead of in front of you.

He nods more to what you say, following along better to whatever stories you’re sharing that morning, tales you never seem to run out of. He starts to answer your questions with sentences instead of words. Sometimes, he sneaks glances at you, and he’s always shocked in the moments when you’re already looking at him.

At first, Joel thinks he’s caught you in those moments. But you just smile at him when his eyes meet yours, unbothered by him noticing your attention on him, and he’s the one turning away yet again, facing the trees away from you so you won’t notice what that soft laughter of yours does to him.

You’re also more than capable in a fight, proving yourself time and time again in sticky situations, and soon enough, Joel doesn’t really mind waking up those early mornings when he knows you’ll be waiting for him with a thermos in each hand. He looks forward to an unnecessary apology on your lips if there’s no coffee that day, and the way you make him take a hot drink anyway—sometimes a pastry too, gently chiding him on taking better care of himself.

“I need you all big and strong for patrol,” you teased him once, but you still glance up and down his body with an appreciation he doesn’t think should be for him, even as he greedily drinks it in anyway. 

Then you wink, and he finds himself unable to make eye contact with you for the rest of the day.

Even then, he knows you’ll have his back, as he has yours.

Yeah, you work well together.

So well, in fact, that he finds his mood takes a sharp decline when he checks the assignment board months into being on patrol with you, and sees Tommy’s name paired with his again.

It makes sense. Winter arrives in Jackson, and with it, increased numbers of Infected on patrol. Joel needs to work with Tommy to clear out the routes hit the worst by hordes, for the good of the settlement.

Joel had never hated practicality before, but he does in that moment he first sees your name paired with Chad.

Chad, the young man with a stupid grin on his face while his buddy expresses jealousy over the “luck” of his assignment, and Joel hates the feeling of the same jealousy curling in his gut.

He hates it when you’re not waiting for him in the mornings. Hates it when your smile isn’t for him, when he’s not listening to your voice express every emotion imaginable in whatever story you’re telling him.

He doesn’t even realize what he’s feeling, doesn’t know that he’s lonely until he’s waiting for Tommy one morning when his brother kisses Maria goodbye before going on patrol.

It only hits him then, with the warm, open affection Tommy gazes at his wife with before leaving, and how she watches him with fondness as he goes. Only then does he feel the hollow ache in his chest, a gaping hole that’s only caved in deeper when your presence came and went.

He’s still thinking about it that night when sleep won’t come to him. Rubbing together his lips, chapped from the cold winter air from being outside all day, he wonders when the last time he’d had another mouth pressed to it.

Jesus, when’s the last time he kissed someone?

It’s a stupid thing to think, an embarrassing thought that has him turning onto his stomach and burying his face into his pillow. His arms outstretched beneath it, he groans into the fabric, trying to shove away the emptiness even as it continues to ache.

It fucking aches, and it shouldn’t. He was too old, had gone through too damn much to even care about kissing anybody.

So he tells himself he doesn’t. Convinces himself he couldn’t give less of a fuck about not being able to remember the last time he’d kissed somebody. Pretends he doesn't care about holding another person in his arms, lips pressed together just for the sake of it.

Joel likes to think he does a pretty good job of not caring about it, up until the next time he sees you.

You’re standing at the table of food and drink before patrol, eyes scanning over the pastries available with an intense look of deliberation for what you were craving that morning. When you find what you want, your lips part, tongue darting out to lick them in anticipation of your treat, and Joel’s blood runs hot in a way he thought himself no longer capable of.

He watches with rapt attention as you bring the scone to your mouth for a bite, how crumbs of it flake off onto your lips while you nod in satisfaction at the taste.

It’s a taste Joel wants to capture for himself. He wants to find the sweetness of the pastry on your lips, to press his mouth to yours and have you fill that emptiness, to have you soothe that ache in him with the exploration and discovery of you.

“Joel Miller!”

He blinks, hazy vision refocusing on the tantalizing soft look of your lips to see them curved up into a smile, and his eyes flicker up to see you looking right at him as you call to him, speaking his name like he’s still some legend you can’t believe exists until you see him again.

Yet again, he’s caught right in the center of your web—so many times now, that he almost starts to wonder if he willingly walks into it. Merciless to whatever you intend to do with him now that you have him right there, right where you want him.

But you just smile, head tilted with your gazes locked together, and suddenly he doesn’t care if you trap him or if he’s giving himself to you. You have him, and that’s enough.

Then, your lips part, tongue catching those crumbs still stuck to the corner of your upper lip, and Joel’s own lips part, breath hitching through them.

You notice.

You have to notice, because the edge of your smile curls up even more, eyes striking with the joy of a newfound discovery about the stoic man you’d found steadfast by your side for months of patrol, a silent presence now outright ogling you the same way everybody else did.

Everywhere you went, you were sure to find people lazing about in the warm rays of sunlight you cast from your very soul.

Joel wondered if you ever got tired with how much you gave. 

How much everyone took.

And now here he was, taking just the same. Your stunning vision reduced to an idle daydream, one you’d caught him in the very first moment he’d had it. 

Joel thought about what he must look like to you then. Just a lonely old man, longing for a touch. Like a mangy stray turning up at your doorstep, desperate just for the offhand chance of an ounce of kindness you had made the grave mistake of showing him before.

Because now he would always be back, aching for more.

Pathetic.

He turns from you at the sharp voice of self-hatred in his mind, walking away at the same moment you take a step forward. Joel brushes past those other souls just as eager, just as desperate for your attention as he tries to get far away from what you make him feel.

But it stays knotted up in his chest, ever more evident in your absence, the memory of your smile like a pain throbbing in his bones, ringing in his mind when he brushes off Tommy’s concern with a gruff “doesn’t matter” before heading out.

Because it doesn’t.

It doesn’t matter.

But it does.

Jackson had not only brought safety and comfort, but the luxury of wanting.

And, dear Lord, he wanted.

He hasn’t stopped wanting, not since that first morning when he really noticed the curve of your lips, the shape of them taunting and tempting him. 

Now he notices them every time he sees you. The slight quiver of them in a brush of cold winter wind, and how you pull a tube of homemade chapstick out of the pocket of your jacket to run over them. How you rub your lips together to spread it along each gorgeous line and indentation before popping them out with a smack, and Joel nearly fucking moans at the sight the first time.

God, he wants so badly.

He needs, he thinks sometimes, on the coldest, darkest nights. Thoughts of your mouth and what it would be capable of plaguing his mind as he breathes hotly into his pillow and tries to stay still, tries not to rut into the mattress just from the thoughts of what a simple kiss from you would feel like, giving and taking until it was impossible to tell where he ended and you began.

Because it was you.

It was always you.

Some days, it’s all Joel can think about. Your eyes, your hands, your laughter, but most of all, every bend and curve of your lips. 

It’s embarrassing how much just the mere thought of you consumes him. 

And it’s frightening, the power you would have over him if daydreams ever became reality.

What makes it even worse, is that he thinks you know. Joel’s almost sure of it, the way your eyes linger on him whenever you pout or purse your lips together at something especially grumpy that he says.

It’s like you’re doing it on purpose now, and he falls for it anyway, gazing at the fullness of your mouth, the most beautiful color he’s ever seen, with an aching want that he pretends never happened when it turns up into a smile.

Time and time again, you catch him wanting.

And you let him.

You never make a move to stop him, to call him out on it. Instead, you feed the fire, with a kindness in your smile and a mischief in your eyes that Joel is fucking addicted to.

If all you’re doing is stringing him along, he’s more than willing to let you do it, if it only means that the joy that lights up your face whenever you see him never dies out.

He sees it again one afternoon when he runs into you on the street, a bundle of produce from the greenhouses tucked underneath one arm that he almost offers to carry for you by some forgotten reflex, manners he used to have, when you distract him with a question of, “Are you going to that dinner for the patrolmen Maria is putting on?”

“Uh.” Joel winces at how he always finds himself hedging around you. He doesn’t think the things he’s said in your presence is enough to fill a page, even though you’ve plagued his thoughts enough that he could write a whole fucking book on you. 

There’s already a little smirk on your face as he hesitates, and he clears his throat, shifting on his feet with startling uncertainty you always drag from him as he finally responds gruffly, “Yeah, I s’pose so.”

“Great!” you chirp, your free hand patting him on the chest as you move to brush past him, fingers idling on the buttons of his flannel, gliding down along them in a way that sets all his nerve endings alight. “Save me a seat, would you?”

His body turns with the motion of you stepping past him to watch you go, breath caught in his throat as he wonders if you’re joking or not.

Regardless, he saves you a seat when that night comes.

It’s not like anybody wants to sit with him anyway. Most of the others seem to avoid him like the plague. Even years into being in the town, and Joel still feels like he sticks out like a sore thumb.

He doesn’t blame them. Even with his rough exterior growing softer than it had been in decades, he was a shit conversation partner. Joel just didn’t know how to do the things that they did anymore, not amongst strangers. He was happy enough with his own people, and he wishes that he was back home, playing guitar or watching movies with Ellie instead of sitting here alone, reminded constantly of everything he was lacking in.

When he’s asked if the seat next to him is taken so somebody can sit with their friend, Joel hesitates, resisting the urge to just get up and leave altogether when a familiar voice rings out, “It is!”

His head turns, and there you are, face aglow with a warm smile when you round the table towards him, and Joel is already halfway up out of his seat before he even realizes what he’s doing.

Your smile turns to him, eyes brightening with a spark at his quick movement that makes his heart pound in his chest, before you’re taking the back of the chair from the other patrolman’s grasp with a sweet, “Thanks, Astrid.”

When you start to pull the chair back further to sit, Joel takes it from you to do it for you, and it’s the first time he sees genuine surprise flash through your eyes. Still, you smile, and there’s a quiver of excitement to your lips that turns his aching into a yearning the longer he looks at them.

It’s also then when he notices that they’re painted, a shade of lipstick that fills them out further, complimenting your beauty with the way you had dressed so finely for the occasion tonight.

To sit next to him?

The question of futile hope echoes in his mind as you sink into the chair with a grin you’re trying to hide, and his hands are shaking as he pushes the chair in and takes his seat next to you again, something he also tries to hide as he folds them together and tucks them under the table.

When a bottle of wine is offered around, Joel can’t hold in a quiet chuckle at the way you jump in excitement for a glass. It's tilted in your fingers, the liquid swirling gently around the glass before you take a sip, and he’s enraptured by the sight of your lips wrapping around the rim, unable to glance away from the mark you leave on it once you set it back onto the table.

He’s fixated on that lipstick stain, can’t fucking look away from the shape of your lips painted onto the glass, and Joel starts to vividly imagine you leaving that mark on him instead. He wants evidence of your kiss all along his skin, down the collar of his shirt, smeared across his own lips as he takes your mouth in his, again and again.

He wants those marks trailing down, down, wants those painted lips teasing him until it smears all across that pretty face, wants them wrapped around his—

“Joel.”

His head snaps up, catching the gaze of his brother across from him. Tommy’s brow arches in question as he asks, “You good?”

“Yeah.” Joel clears his throat when his voice comes out thick, shifting in his seat while his folded hands move into his lap, shifting the napkin to help his new…issue. “Yeah, ‘m fine.”

“Really?” Tommy asks, his gaze one of suspicion, and maybe a bit of amusement as he drawls, “‘Cause I asked you if you wanted a glass of wine about three times, and you didn’t respond.”

Joel pales at being caught, jaw ticking with annoyance at the glee in his brother’s eyes when they snap to you sitting beside him, and he reasserts roughly, “I’m fine.”

Tommy backs off then, turning his attention somewhere else, and Joel almost relaxes until you hold your glass out to him and offer with a smile, “Want to try some of mine?”

The look in your eyes when the blood rushes back into Joel’s cheeks is nothing but goddamn trouble, and he fucking loves it.

You watch him as he stares at the mark of your lips on the glass. He imagines what it would be like to wrap his own lips around it, wondering if he’d taste you with the wine, and he quickly clears the lump that tightens in his throat before mumbling, “No, thank you, ma’am.”

A grin plays on your lips at that, and he doesn’t think he’s ever wanted anything more in his life than to kiss you at that moment. He wants to grab your face and pull you into him so fucking bad, wants your mouth to claim him, bruise him, make him hurt until he heals.

Instead, he keeps his hands to himself, still folded in his lap in a vice grip over his napkin now when you tease, “Ma’am, huh? I think I like that one.”

You wink, and all the blood flooding into his face suddenly rushes south.

Without a doubt, you had him completely fucked.

You talk to Joel the entire night.

Your head is turned to him throughout dinner, and you ask him more questions than ever before. Unlike your patrols, where you were content to tell stories, and he content to listen, you gently prod him to tell you his own. 

Joel’s voice is quiet when he assents, the low, gentle timbre hardly audible over the din of conversation around the long table. He’s sure he must be boring, a drab collection of colors long washed out in comparison to your blinding vibrancy, but you may as well have been the only two in the room with the way you listen to him.

You’re leaning in with your chin resting on a closed fist, nodding along to what he says with eyes dancing over his face so intently, as if to memorize him the same way he did you.

He’s surprised that he wants you to.

At the end of the dinner, when everybody’s bellies are full and they’re filtering out the door, Joel isn’t even shocked that he’s unwilling to leave your side. Though he is startled when the question slips quietly past his lips, “Mind if I walk you home, darlin’?”

You look back from where you were grabbing your jacket with wide eyes, stunned at the unexpected question and the pet name that had escaped him without a second thought. For a moment, he’s worried he finally scared you away, but then you smile.

“I’d like that.”

Joel nods, trying to calm the racing of his heart as he gently tugs the jacket from your grip and helps you put it on. He doesn’t miss the shiver that runs through you when his fingers brush against your skin, and suddenly there’s a feeling of anticipation simmering low in his belly, a warmth that spreads through his chest when the two of you stroll under the streetlights and eventually reach your doorstep.

You don’t let him turn away.

Somehow, he ends up on your couch. His boots and coat are left by your front door as he sits next to you, a glass of wine finally in his hand to ease the strain of his nerves. Your legs are tucked comfortably underneath yourself, the side of your face resting on the back of the couch, gazing up at him as you talk about nothing in particular.

You never seem to run out of questions for him. He answers the ones he can, and you’re not offended when he avoids the others. 

Tonight, Joel asks you questions too. Things he once thought didn’t matter anymore, but right now, he wants to know them all—where you grew up, your favorite movie, the concerts you’d been to before the world went to hell.

It becomes a back and forth—you ask him a question, he answers. Then it’s his turn to ask a question, and you answer.

Hours go by, wine is refilled, and when it’s your turn again, you ask him with such startling gentleness, “How long has it been since you kissed someone?”

Joel freezes.

His breath catches in his throat, and he can’t bring himself to look at you. He knows that when he does, he’ll see for sure that you’ve been aware of his pining, his fantasies, all along, and he doesn’t think he can face that.

Instead, he takes another long sip of wine, swallowing down the liquid courage before he answers lowly, “It’s, uh...been a while.”

Silence falls between you then, with more weight to it than any before in that night, and he has to fill it. So he does with the first thing that springs to his mind, “What about you?”

You hum thoughtfully, even as his heart lurches in his chest when the question spills from his lips. He can’t believe he actually fucking asked that, and then you actually answer it, “A couple months ago.”

Joel’s head snaps up, eyes glancing over your face as you trace the rim of your glass with a thoughtful expression.

“Was it…” he hesitates, before deciding he may as well say whatever he wants now that he’s already gone ahead and fucked it all up by asking about it in the first place, “good?”

“Nah,” you sigh, shrugging casually as you smirk in amusement at the recollection, “it’s like he was eating my face.”

Joel snorts at that, brow arching as he retorts dryly, “You go on a date with a Clicker or somethin’?”

You laugh then, head tilting back with the joyful sound, and he realizes it’s something he wants to hear for the rest of his life, even as you playfully nudge his shoulder and mutter, “Shut up.”

He chuckles along with you, looking back down into his glass as a sigh falls from his lips, and he mumbles more to himself than you, “Not sure I’d be much better, at this point.”

Suddenly, you shift beside him, pulling his attention back to you as you sit up straight. There’s a spark of interest kindling in your eyes, one that makes his throat go dry as your eyes slowly scan over his face, down to his lips.

They part under your attention, and your pupils dilate in the darkness of the room, pulling a soft exhale from Joel’s mouth at the sight of you wanting.

You.

Wanting.

“I don’t know about that,” you murmur as you set your glass down on your coffee table, then do the same with his, tugging it easily from his grasp before leaning in towards him. “But we could find out.”

Joel licks his lips, and you’re on your hands and knees now, crawling towards him on the couch as his eyelids flutter and he rasps out, “I—darlin’, I don’t think I—”

“You don’t want to?” you whisper, stopping instantly at the idea of going too far, and horror rushes through him at the thought of you believing he didn’t want you.

“No, that’s not—” he sighs, rubbing a hand down his face. He exhales heavily into his palm, trying to find the words before he removes it to admit, “I just…don’t think it’d be that enjoyable for ya.”

You scoff, leaning forward to settle on your knees right beside him, fingertips finding the edge of his jawline. They run across it, and Joel’s eyes fall shut, sighing from the sensation of being touched after so long, of it being your hands on his face when you cup his cheeks, thumbs brushing along his cheekbones so softly. 

You stroke his skin like you were holding something delicate, and not a living, breathing instrument of death with the scars to prove it right under your palms.

What did you see in him?

“Joel,” you breathe, and a whimper gets caught in his throat, his eyes blinking back open, struggling to refocus on you under the heavy heat of the moment. “Do you want to?”

He doesn’t have to think twice, doesn’t even want to as his voice comes out in a hoarse whisper, a desperate beg of, “Yes.”

Your lips are on his then, and his hand finds the small of your back, tugging you into him as he groans into the mouth he’s been dreaming of, day and night, for months on end.

Joel tries to be gentle with it, but it feels so fucking good, and God, now his hands are shaking. He has to grip onto your waist tightly to anchor himself to the moment, to remind himself that you’re there. This isn’t one of his vivid daydreams, or images that taunt him in his sleep that he’ll wake up painfully hard from.

No, you’re here, lips pliable and just as wanting as his when his tongue tentatively traces the shape of them, knowing the curve of your mouth from long stolen glimpses even with his eyes closed, even through just the touch of his lips to them alone. 

Your mouth opens eagerly, and he licks into it, moans deeply into the sweet taste of you. His hand slides up your back to cup your neck, fingers tangling into the back of your hair as he tugs you forward by the waist until you’re settled in his lap, so he can wrap you up and pull you into him completely.

When your lips leave his, he tries to chase them with a whine stuck in the back of his throat, and he can feel that pretty smile pressed to his skin when you kiss along his bearded jaw and down the strength of his neck as it strains under your attention. 

Joel’s head falls back, sinking into the couch with the feeling of your lips descending, until there’s a sweet bite of pain that pulls his lips apart. It tugs a throaty grunt straight from the pit of heat building in his lower stomach, his hips bucking up hard into your own.

His hands are clutching your waist, the sweet syllables of your name pouring from his mouth like a prayer. The sound of his desperation, his need for you vibrates against your lips as you suck a mark on his neck, your tongue flattening against it and pulling another weak bucking up of his hips.

Your head lifts, gazing down at him with lidded eyes and a giddy smile at this mountain of a man you’d pulled apart and wrapped around your finger so easily, before you tap that very finger against the same spot on your own neck.

Joel’s jaw drops.

“I—sweetheart, I—”

He can’t find the words, can’t explain how he’s afraid he’s far too rough to do such a thing. It’s been too long, he’s out of practice, and the last thing he wants is to hurt you.

You just smile down at what he leaves unspoken, some look in your eyes that makes him tremble as you brush your hands through his hair and whisper, “You’re capable of much more softness than you realize, Joel Miller.”

A warmth eases his concern at your words, and he lets you guide his face to your neck, his lips finding your skin for a tentative kiss there. You’re putting yourself in his hands now, trusting him not to break you, just as he trusts you to lead him through this forgotten territory until it was familiar to him again.

Joel breathes you in, large hands grasping at your back as he pulls your body firmly against his, tongue darting out to taste your skin before he bites down softly.

There’s a moan that floats from your lips then, the most sweet, seductive music to his ears that’ll replay in his mind for nights to come, and Joel sucks at the skin, eager to leave his mark on you as you did him. He’s grasping desperately at your body now as you grind down into his lap, unwilling to ever let you go now that he has you.

Heavy breaths fill the air as you bring his face back up to yours, and you just kiss. Lips swelling from the attention, and Joel never wants to stop, even though he knows he’ll have to eventually.

When he does, the two of you finally needing to actually catch your breath, your forehead rests against his with a quiet sigh. It sounds dangerously like contentment, and it takes a moment before Joel realizes that such a thing isn’t so dangerous anymore.

Your nose bumps against his, and he whispers hoarsely, “How was that?”

You laugh, sounding just as breathless and raspy as him, and he can’t stop the goofy smile that stretches across his face when you hum, “Mm, I’ll need more evidence before I draw any conclusions.”

Joel’s lips meet yours again, a softer kiss shared this time, leaving the promise of more that he’d never thought he’d be able to make before he pulls back, and your smile returning his own tells him all he’s ever needed to know.

“That can be arranged.”

[lxndonorris]

a trip down nostalgia lane - Charles Leclerc

Y/N x Charles Leclerc Theme: Smut Charles surprises you, wearing one of his old Sauber racing suits word count: 2160+ taglist: @game-set-canet open for requests :)

In the heart of Monaco, where the Mediterranean waves dance under the golden sun, you find yourself in the opulent home of your boyfriend, Charles Leclerc. The air is infused with the upcoming Grand Prix, and Charles seems particularly eager.

As you lounged on the sun-drenched terrace, Charles suddenly excused himself, disappearing behind the bedroom door with a cryptic smile. Your curiosity piques, and you wait patiently, wondering what surprise he has in store for you.

Minutes pass, each one tinged with anticipation, until finally, the bedroom door creakes open, and there stands Charles, his frame adorned in his old Sauber racing suit. 

"Charles, what's this?" You ask, your voice a mixture of amusement and intrigue.

Charles grins, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "I want to take you on a journey through my racing history," he says, his voice filled with nostalgia.

As you lay eyes on Charles clad in his Sauber racing suit, a rush of memories floods your mind, transporting you back to the first time you saw him dressed in the exact same attire. It was years ago, yet the sight before you feels as fresh and exhilarating as it did back then.

You can't help but admire the complete ensemble that Charles has put together. Along with his Sauber racing suit, he wears his signature cap, adding a touch of authenticity to his look. But it is the addition of the newer, white shoes from his special Monaco suit last year that catches your attention.

The contrast between the vintage racing suit and the modern footwear seems to symbolize Charles' journey through the world of motorsport.

Your heart skips a beat as you take in the sight of him, his form accentuated by the snug fit of his suit. Every contour of his body seems to have been sculpted by years of racing, his physique having matured and grown stronger over time.

Unable to tear your gaze away, you feel a surge of admiration and desire wash over her. Despite the passing years, Charles retained the same magnetic charm and allure that have drawn you to him from the very beginning.

Charles strikes a pose, his hands on his hips, unconsciously flexing his muscles, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "How do I look?" he asks, his voice laced with a hint of mischief.

Caught off guard by his sudden display, you can't help but blush slightly at the sight before you. Despite the passing years, Charles still exudes a youthful charm and confidence that never fails to captivate you.

"You look..." You begin, your words trailing off as you search for the right response. "Well, you're a little older," you finally admit with a playful smile, mirroring him, teasing him gently.

Charles giggles, a hearty sound that fills the room with warmth. "Older, but wiser," he replies, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "And still capable of stealing hearts, I hope."

As you approach him, your movements deliberate and filled with a sense of longing, you can't help but feel a rush of excitement coursing through your veins. With a gentle touch, you reach out to his firm chest, your fingertips grazing the smooth fabric of his racing suit.

"I still remember the first time I saw you in this suit." You say, your voice trailing off into the distance.

You reminisce about the first time you saw him in this suit, and a wave of nostalgia washes over you. Recalling the way he looked—so striking and handsome, the fabric of the suit clinging to his skin like a second layer of armor—you close your eyes. It was the sight that took your breath away then, just as it does now.

The memory is etched vividly in her mind: the anticipation building as Charles prepared for the race, the air thick with excitement and adrenaline. And then, as he unzipped the suit to reveal the fireproofs underneath, you felt your heart skip a beat.

"Mhmmm." Charles purrs contendly as you trace patterns across his upper body, reveling in the sensation of the fabric beneath your fingers. Each contour and curve seems to tell a story of the races he won, the challenges he faced, and the victories he celebrated.

"You always look so beautiful." You murmur.

As you linger in each other's embrace, you revel in the familiar scent you know all too well—a unique blend of cologne, sweat, and the unmistakable essence of Charles himself.

Closing your eyes, you breathe in deeply, allowing the intoxicating aroma to fill your senses.

"So good." You purr now, opening your eyes to see him smiling warmly.

The heat of his body radiates through his clothes, enveloping you in a cocoon of warmth and desire. It is the sensation you have grown accustomed to over the years, yet it never fails to ignite a spark of passion within you.

"Thank you." He licks his lips, his eyes glued to yours. "I hoped you'd like it."

Feeling Charles melt into your touch, your strokes become more deliberate, more exploratory. You feel a sense of satisfaction as you elicit low rumbles from his throat, a sound that stirs something deep within you.

In response to his growing desire, Charles places a hand firmly on your hips, pulling you closer.

With his embrace anchoring you in a world of warmth and desire, you let your hands roam freely across his upper body, savoring the sensation of his firm muscles beneath your fingertips. You trace the contours of his biceps, feeling the strength and power coiled within them.

Charles gaze now follows every move of your hand, reveling in the sensation your strokes, your touch inflict on his body. 

"So good." He lets out a low, deep sigh, and his accent is coming through fully. His voice is laced with desire, and his body is longing for your touch.

But it is when your hands reach his tummy that you feel a surge of affection welling up within you. You stroke him gently, tracing invisible patterns across the sleek racing suit, a sign of intimacy and love.

As you look up into Charles's eyes, you see a flicker of vulnerability mingled with pure desire.

"It seems like this suit is a little tighter than I remember." You tease, your fingers tracing the letters of his name printed just above the waistline.

Charles chuckles as he looks down at himself, his hand following yours in a playful gesture. 

"Well, you know, I guess I've bulked up a bit," he replies, a hint of pride in his voice.

You grin, enjoying how firm and tight his muscles feel now, and through the fabric of his racing suit, it is even more exciting. 

"I must say, it suits you," you tease, unable to resist a playful wink.

His smile widens, his gaze meets yours with warmth and affection. 

"It's just a sign that I'm getting better with age, don't you think?"

You grin as you lean in closer to him. "Absolutely," you agree, and run a hand across his chest to his neck.

With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you trace your hand across Charles's chest, feeling the firm contours beneath the fabric of his tight racing suit.

You reach for the collar, your fingers lingering teasingly on the zipper, as you look up at him, a playful smile dances on her lips.

"I should check if that's true, eh?" You tease, and he places his own hands on his chest, unconsciously stroking himself once, then twice, while you play with the zipper.

"It's all yours." He shrugs lazily, inviting you to explore his body further.

But as you slowly begin to unzip his suit, he draws a deep breath. Anticipation and desire evident in his eyes. With each inch of exposed skin, his breath hitches, his chest rising and falling with every beat of his heart.

To your surprise, instead of revealing the fireproofs you expected, the zipper exposes Charles's bare skin underneath. You gasp softly, your fingers grazing the warmth of his flesh as you look up at him in astonishment.

He runs a hand along his cheek, feeling his skin heat up as he blushes slightly.

"Oh, are you surprised?" He shakes his head slowly, his voice slightly huskier than before.

As your hand slips inside his suit, the warmth of his skin sends shivers down your spine.

"I love this even more." You lean in and stroke his chest with gentle caresses, each touch eliciting soft groans of pleasure from Charles's lips.

You lean in to kiss him right when he lets out a low moan, so he breathes into you, giving you goosebumps. Your lips meet in a tender embrace, and you savor the softness of his kiss, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours.

Charles's lips are gentle against yours, his stubble tickling you ever so slightly as you move in perfect harmony.

He relishes the intimacy of your kiss, and you feel him draw closer, his desire evident in every movement. You sense the heat radiating from his body, the tension building between you as your passion ignites like a flame.

With each moment that passes, the fabric of Charles's racing suit seems to cling tighter to his body, accentuating every contour and curve. 

Feeling the intensity of his longing, you respond in kind, your own desire matching his with equal fervor. 

"Yes." He breathes deeply, grinding his hips against yours, his passion bulging inside his now even tighter suit.

Gasping for a second, you keep on stroking his chest underneath his suit and let your other hand run down right between the two of you.

You begin to trace the outlines of Charles's desire through his snug racing suit, and feel a rush of excitement coursing through your veins. With each touch, you sense the heat intensifying.

Your fingers dance across the fabric, following the tangible contours of his from with delicate precision. Every curve and ridge seems to pulse with the intensity of his lust, a subtle invitation for you to explore further.

Charles's reactions are immeasurable; his breath hitching in response to your touch. You feel the rhythm of his heartbeat quicken beneath your fingertips.

Just then, expose his chest even more with both of your hands to place kisses along an invisible line. 

Starting by his lips, you press your own against his with a tender urgency, savoring the warmth and softness of his kiss.

As you move further down, your lips trail a path of fiery kisses across his jawline and down his neck, eliciting soft moans of pleasure from Charles's lips. Each moan longs for so much more.

Continuing your journey, you place feather-light kisses along his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath your lips. With each kiss, you revel in the sensation of his skin against yours.

Finally, your lips reach his tummy, and you press a series of gentle kisses against the soft skin, feeling the muscles beneath tense with anticipation.

But then you stop.

You regain your composure, meeting his gaze once again. 

He smirks and tilts his head slightly before stroking his chest subconsciously.

"That feels so good." He lets out a low groan when you place a hand at his member, tenting visibly inside the bottom half of the suit.

In rhythmic motions, you move your hand along his ever-growing length, eliciting more and more moans deep from within his throat.

His response is immediate once more. He leans his head back, letting out a long groan. Charles is already edging from all that teasing, your gentle strokes, passionate kisses, and his desire burning inside his chest.

With a few more strokes, he can't help but release himself, his body melting into your touch.

"Fuck." His body twitches slightly as he revels in this sensational feeling. "So good." Charles sighs deeply, and you start to stroke his tummy, as if to praise him.

He starts to giggle, letting out a deep breath inbetween. His entire body is giving in to yours, and you steady him, smiling to yourself. Then, he regains his composure as well, and straightens his shoulders.

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself." You tease, and stroke his pecs again, focusing on his hard nipples.

"Oh, I am." Charles nods, and you share a giggle.

Then, after stroking him lovingly once more, you pull the zipper up, and he growls deeply. He then, pulls you closer, looking for your embrace.

Feeling his arms wrap around you, your heart overflows with love and gratitude. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his familiar scent and savoring its comforting taste.

With a soft smile, you pull back slightly from your embrace, looking up at Charles with affection. "It was so good seeing you in that suit again," you say, your voice laced with love. "You look absolutely amazing, just like the first time I saw you on the racetrack."

[bucksanklescrews]

car shopping- e.b. x fem!reader

Warnings: None, pregnant!reader, fluff

"I'm not driving a minivan," Evan said, his voice stern, but a hint of amusement still shined through.

You ran a hand over your bump. "Jesus, Buck, how many of them do you think are in here?"

Evan chuckled, shaking his head as he looked at you with that familiar mix of affection and playful defiance. "I don’t care if it’s one or five, I’m not trading in the Jeep for a minivan."

You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips as you ran a hand over your growing bump. “Come on, Buck, don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic? It’s not like we’re starting a soccer team.”

He grinned, leaning back against the counter, his arms crossing over his chest. “I’m just saying, this Jeep has been with me through a lot. I’m not ready to swap it out for something... practical.”

"I said practical, which means a Jeep that doesn't stutter when it starts-"

"I made an appointment for it next week!"

You placed a hand on your hip. "And what about the appointment last week?"

He sighed, knowing you had a point. Despite all the love and care he had poured into maintaining his Jeep over the years—new tires, a well-kept motor, and a slightly faded paint job that he swore added character—it was clear that the old Jeep was reaching the end of its life. It had racked up miles and had started showing signs of wear, no matter how much he wanted to deny it. Sure, his car had been fine before, but now that you were expecting, the last thing you wanted was to worry about Buck and your little angel stalling at an intersection or, worse, being stranded somewhere.

Evan ran a hand through his hair, the reluctance in his eyes giving way to a resigned sigh. “Alright, I’ll look at new cars... but I’m not making any promises.”

You smiled, knowing it was the best you were going to get from him. “That’s all I’m asking.”

Car shopping turned out to be more of a challenge than either of you anticipated. Every car seemed to have something wrong with it—too worn, too expensive, too small, too impractical. The first dealership was a bust, with Buck dismissing every option the salesman showed him. The second one wasn’t any better, with Buck complaining about the lack of character in the newer models. By the time you reached the sixth dealership, you were starting to lose hope.

Then you spotted it—another Jeep, practically identical to his. It was a little newer, with fewer miles on it, and in good condition. For a moment, you thought this might be the one. Buck approached the Jeep, his eyes lighting up as he inspected it closely. He ran his hand over the hood, checked the tires, and even peeked inside the cabin.

You watched him, hopeful that this could be it. But as the salesman approached to seal the deal, you noticed the look on Buck’s face. The excitement had faded, replaced by something more subdued. He thanked the salesman politely, but instead of heading back inside to discuss numbers, he started walking back to your car.

You followed him, your heart sinking a little. “Evan?”

He glanced back at the Jeep, then at you. “It’s just... it’s not the same, you know? It doesn’t feel right.”

You sighed, understanding where he was coming from. “I get it, Buck. But we need something reliable, something safe. For all of us.”

He nodded, though you could see the reluctance still lingering in his eyes. “I know. It’s just hard to let go.”

You slipped your hand into his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll find something that feels right, I promise. But maybe it doesn’t have to be another Jeep. Maybe it’s time for something new.”

Buck considered your words, his gaze softening as he looked down at your intertwined hands. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

As your due date approached, just over a week away, the anticipation was palpable. You sighed, flipping through yet another car catalog, this one featuring used cars being sold directly by their owners. Your hand absentmindedly rested on your bump as you turned the pages, glancing over sedans and SUVs, none of which seemed to stand out.

But then, you spotted it. Another Jeep, just a few shades darker than his current car. It had low miles and was moderately priced, a rare find that immediately caught your attention. You smiled to yourself, thinking maybe this was it, the compromise between nostalgia and practicality. You turned the catalog towards Buck, who was sitting next to you on the couch, and pointed it out.

“Look at this one,” you said, your voice laced with hope. “It’s just like yours, but with way fewer miles. What do you think?”

Buck’s eyes lit up for a second as he took in the image, the familiar look of excitement flashing across his face. But then, just as quickly, he seemed to hesitate, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“It’s nice,” he admitted, nodding appreciatively. “But... I already found something.”

You quirked an eyebrow in surprise. “Oh? And when were you planning on telling me?”

Buck chuckled, pulling out his phone. “I was going to surprise you, but since we’re on the topic...”

He scrolled through his photos, searching for something specific. You watched him curiously, wondering what he had found. Finally, he stopped on a picture and handed the phone to you.

The image on the screen was of a new Jeep, a different color from his current one but still unmistakably in the same spirit. It was slightly newer, with a sleeker design, but it still had that rugged, adventurous look that Buck loved so much.

“I saw it when we were on a call,” Buck explained, his voice carrying a mix of excitement and nostalgia. “It was parked on the street, and I just couldn’t take my eyes off it. I jotted down the number before we left, and I went back to see it with Eddie before heading home.”

You looked at the photo, then back at Buck, and couldn’t help but smile. There was something endearing about the way he was so attached to his Jeep, and yet willing to find something new that still honored the old.

“You really like it, don’t you?” you asked softly.

Buck nodded, his eyes twinkling with a mix of excitement and a touch of sentimentality. “Yeah, I do. It’s not exactly the same, but it feels right, you know? Like it’s time for something new, but it still reminds me of the old one.”

You leaned over, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’m glad you found something you love, Buck. And if you’re happy with it, then I am too.”

He smiled, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close, his hand resting protectively over your bump. “Thanks, babe. I know it’s silly, but this Jeep... it means a lot.”

You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth and love between you both. “It’s not silly at all. It’s a big change, and I’m glad you found something that feels right.”

As you sat there together, the car catalog forgotten on the coffee table, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment. The Jeep was just a car, but it symbolized so much more—moving forward, making room for new memories, and embracing the future together as a family.

[saintbarou]

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝚬 𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝚬.

tags: 18+ minors dni, fem reader, established relationship, pro soccer player kunigami, closet sex, fingering, making out, penetrative and oral sex hinted, jealousy and possessive themes, mention of unwanted flirting and physical touch - let me know if i missed something !

synopsis: what is kunigmai rensuke’s is kunigami rensuke’s, and nothing will change that even your stupid co-worker who can’t keep his hands to himself.

If Kunigami had it his way, he'd make it so you would never have to lift a finger. He’s overpaid doing what he lives for - going pro was everything he wanted, and it soothes an ugly green part of himself that knows he can provide for you. But you are too kind for that kind of life, you still try to pay for things despite how he always pre-pays for dinners or straight up takes your cards out of your wallet when you go out shopping. You work a normal job, something usual and consistent. You like it that way and he tries to respect that very much. 

He thinks he’s done an excellent job of it until you bring him to a corporate party and all that goes out the window. It starts normally enough, you show him around your office and it makes him smile that you have a framed jersey with his number on it, a poster of his team, and a framed photo of him holding you at a championship game - the first one of his pro career. It’s sweet, it fills him with such pride to know you carry him with you each day you clock into the office. He meets your co-workers - most are older than you as you are one of the newer hires and they all gawk over him with wide eyes and gasping lips.

You had told your office your boyfriend was a pro athlete but didn’t explicitly say your boyfriend and Kunigami Rensuke were the same. It didn’t bother him in retrospect, you’ve always been the quieter one between the two of you - all attempts for privacy came from you, and you never wanted Kunigmai to feel as if you were with him for fame or money.

You love Kunigami Rensuke with all your soul and it is there in the most subtle of ways that exist only for the two of you to bear witness to. The polaroid of your blacked-out silhouettes from New years on the back of your phone case and the locket around his neck that holds the photos of your engagement shoot that he kisses before he’s out on the pitch. The way you have a homemade book filled with recipes for when he goes on his diet to help him bulk up or slim down when the soccer season rolls around. The way he has a list of which chocolate and jam spread brands you like for when you have your cravings. 

These things, these actions are eternal in an otherwise epithermal world and Kunigami knows damn well that he does not stand for on the international stage to play for something like his country’s pride. He plays for you and for you alone, for the beading of tears that shine in your eyes whenever he succeeds - his pride is yours and his joy is yours too. And for the most part, you two have had your relatively peaceful love lives, your e  waits for the two of you in the summer of next year and it’s blissful in a way that he doesn’t have the words to describe. Maybe that’s why you always nagged him to pay attention in his Classics class, then he would have the words to describe all that he feels for you the way you always know what to say to him whenever he needs it.

And he would have all the words to say what he feels when he hears what your co-worker, a relatively handsome man your age, calls you - “Hey work-wife”. Kunigmai already does not like him, he feels the way you tense from where your arm is tucked into his elbow - he was raised to be a gentleman by a strict mother and an even stricter older sister who has been handed too many douchey men so she made sure to raise him right (He hears her bragging to you about his manners too many times to count when he brings you over for family dinners). He can see why you tense up because the minute you're on your own - you wanted to get something to drink and when he offered to get it instead, you gave him that pout that speaks to your want to do things on your own. It never fails to be cute to him so he laughs softly and lets you go with a nod of his head and a final squeeze of your hand. Any joy evaporates and tastes of ash when he sees your younger co-worker come up to you and place his arm around your shoulders - tugging you close, too close in his opinion which sours further when he sees how you tense under his touch.

He knows you, and he knows how much you hate anyone’s touch other than his own.

Kunigami is on his feet faster than ever and your work best friend sputters after him as their polite but meaningless conversation goes to dust as he leaves with a barely-there excuse. He is at your side faster than you can blink, long legs and speed training make it so. His hand is warm and familiar - firm as he loops it around your waist, tugging you until you are flushed to him, free from your co-worker’s touch.

“Wow, easy tiger - is this the infamous famous boyfriend? I thought you were fibbin’ about him bein’ a pro soccer player?” The man grins at you in a way that was supposed to be charming but looks more like a grimace and his accent reminds Kunigami of Karasu so he concludes he is from Osaka. Auburn eyes light into a blaze as he tilts his head, sizing up his prey and he is glad when he sees the other swallow thickly at the sight of him. Kunigami has always been imposing - with each centimeter he grows and each kg he gains it only adds to how easily he can intimidate the people around him.

So he delights when he sees how the other man’s confidence withers and dies, turning to bone and ash before his very eyes - it worsens when Kunigami can see the familiar glint of jealousy that burns like acid when Kunigami tightens his hold on your waist; drawing you closer to his side until he feels your warmth through your clothes. Kunigami’s ego only soars on two occasions when he scores and when he has you in his arms in front of someone who so badly wants what is so rightfully his.

Kunigami doesn’t say anything - he doesn’t have to, the other man knows the battle is lost. He never had a chance to begin with, not when your man is Kunigami Rensuke himself. You let him take you to the lobby of the building, far from the party and there is a look of distress on your face that Kunigami can’t stand - he has half the mind to go back to the party and punch your shitty coworker himself. With a quick sweep around the lobby, he snorts when his gaze lands on the opened coat closet that would be the perfect place to take this to where he wants. Still leading the way he pushes you inside it, locking the door behind him and he finds that it isn’t as cramped as he thought. It still lets him push himself up against your smaller form - crowding you against the wall in a way that he knows makes you tongue-tied.

“Are you mad at me?” You ask and he says a quick no because he’s not - jealous and possessiveness dance along his spine but that can wait until you are comforted.

“Does he always talk to you like that - touches you like that? When you don’t want to be?” He asks and he tilts his head so you can see a single searing auburn eye among the shadow of how his hair falls. You nod, bringing a hand to your face, and rub at your temples in exhaustion.

“Y-yeah he does - I thought it would go away if I started talking about you but when that didn’t work I started bringing some of your merchandise from home to here, you know to show that I’m dedicated to you and stuff.” You pause to take a shuddering breath as you remember how the man’s touch felt on your skin - stinging like acid rain and rancid like sulfur, you only wanted Kunigami to be able to touch you like that. He hums, leaning back against the door so that he can hear it creak a little under his weight.

“I thought - I already wanted to bring you along but I thought if you came he’d finally give up his stupid delusion of always flirting with me, calling me stupid things like his work wife and stuff.” You finish and your shoulders are by your ears like they do when you are about to cry so he draws near, wrapping a bulky arm around your tense shoulders. You are brought in close to where you can almost taste the notes of his cologne and all it does is make you nuzzle into his skin in the way you know tickles him. He chuckles into your ear and his hand that rubs at your shoulders relaxes you into his body.

“Guys like that are assholes, they don’t give up - thought you would have known that from being around me all the time and the team,” Kunigami mutters, throwing a tease in there to make you laugh. It’s to his relief that it does and you snort into the color of his shirt, your voice muffled against his strong body.

“You aren’t an asshole,” you defend him and he huffs amusedly at your claim.

“The others are - and I’m not an asshole to you.” He remarks pulling away just to look at you with a barely there smile that was a little too proud of what he is saying. You look at him with a stern expression, though there is some amusement in your eyes and he’s glad he still can cheer you up.

“Your teammates aren’t that bad, and neither are you.” Kunigami smiles slightly and butts his head with you like the way dogs do when they want your attention and your affection.

“That’s why guys like that always think they’ve got a chance with you - always so sweet even to shitty losers who don’t deserve it.”  You pull away to look up at him, raising a finger to point in his face with something stubborn in your eyes.

“You better not be put in that category of a shitty loser Kunigami Rensuke, you hear me?” You warn, voice firm and he smiles a little wider - the sort of self-satisfied and dripping in ego that he most reserves for being out on the field but he gives it to you too sometimes. 

“Don’t worry sweetheart. I got you, there's no way I’m a shitty loser when I get to take you home every night.” His smug reply and the rolling of your eyes are cut off by the heated kiss he presses to your lips. It tastes of him - the snowy peaks of his hometown and the fire of his veins you can only latch onto the front of his shirt when you feel his tongue slip into your gasping mouth. It feels right, it feels true Kunigami is the only man who is allowed to touch you, to taste you and that is how it must be. His hands don’t keep to themselves, they slip under the skirt of your dress. A simple long-sleeved dress but it makes him hungry all the same, gluttony and greed paint his hands as you feel them come up to the curve of your ass - his fingers follow the lace trail of your panties, stockings, and garters with the same worshiping haze of a devoted acolyte.

Devotion can be tasted and love can be felt as your hands do not remain idle, they are in his hair and cradling his jaw. When he pulls away Kunigami hates that he can’t sustain himself on you alone but your lipstick is on his lips and your perfume coils around him like a fog and he thinks that’s good enough for now. You’re panting, his hands haven’t stopped just because the kiss has and you whine something startled when you feel his fingers trace the gusset of your panties with something wicked in his autumn eyes.

“I thought you said you weren’t mad -”

“I’m not,” He says with certainty but there’s evil in the way he half smiles at you, “just competitive.”

 What you wish to say never comes as you gasp when you feel the skirt of your dress being rucked up and the too-cool air of your office dancing around your heated lower half. The garters squeeze into the plush of your skin and Kunigami can’t stop the groan that tugs from his chest even if he wants to. Rough fingers pull back the soft satin material of your panties, and your cunt weaves its silk webs of wanting that follow the damp fabric until they snap and his fingers are tracing the petals of your pussy with newfound hunger. The curls of your pelvis part and cling to your slick, Kunigami fights the urge to drop to his knees to lick you clean but this isn’t the place for that - the closet is too narrow and the walls too thin, they can barely conceal what it is he is doing to you now. Strong fingers find your puffy clit and you hide your whine into his beck, your form crumpling and shaking under the sudden but all-encompassing pleasure that laps at your ankles up to your neck. 

“You’re mine, yeah? Doesn’t matter what any shithead calls you - you’re mine.” His words are like magma that course through the earth and you can only nod and whine and nod some more with each declaration he murmurs into your ear as you lose more of your sanity in the flow and ebb of having your cunt played with. Kunigami is nothing but demanding and now that he’s shed his polite outer layer all he is left with is the beast within. He ensures to ensnare you with his claws as if there is anywhere else you would rather be.

 You feel his hair tickle your temples as his head turns - Kunigami twisting his head until his mouth is level with your neck - tender is the flesh and ripe for his white teeth to dig into the skin. You gasp, a third finger has slipped it along with the burning sting of his teeth digging into your neck you can’t help but sigh his name in utter adoration - “Rensuke!”

The fingers inside you curl and Kunigami sucks at your neck, the flesh darkening and flushing the same color as the lust shared between the two of you. Your chest aches, from your heart to the peaks of your nipples that grow tight still confide in your dress because this isn’t enough despite the burning twine of pleasure in your stomach.

You want for more - his tongue, his cock, and then his fingers again, it all feels so good; this does not feel like enough. Your words are clipped and breath but they reach him, your prayers for your lover of a god.

“Please - please Rensuke! I want more, please give me more!” You whisper to him, nerves fried and everything feels like a blur except for how your thighs tremble as the pleasure becomes more and more unbearable. His fingers, thick and long and so very cruel, keep their pace, curl inside of you the final time and you cum with his tongue in your mouth. It feels dirty and indecent - it could be because the setting of where your cunt was finger fucked into a haze is finally setting in but you can’t even put two in two together until you feel Kunigami’s hard-on pressed up against you. Your stockings feel soaked through from sweat and slick, your heels make you feel unstable and you can only blink up at him barely as he pressed his mouth to your ear again.

“You’re gonna go out there - say your goodbyes like the sweet thing you are with your cute cunt fucked by my fingers and with my marks on your skin. Get your things, take longer than ten and I won’t let you come all night long.”  A promise whispered, made with the following action of his hands following the curve of your ass as Kunigami smoothes down your pretty dress to give some decency after the indecent things both said and done in this small space. The prospect of punishment weighs heavy on the tongue but a part of him is delighted in your choppy nod and starry eyes. He opens the door but not without pressing a final kiss to your bitten lips and with a final reach of his hand to sweep your hair to the side - where the mark of his teeth screams all the possession he carries in his heart.

As you walk out of the closet with unsteady steps he can’t help but let his palm meets your behind in a quick swipe - it makes him half grin, a cruel tease as you jump and rub at your ass. Kunigami holds up the car keys and tilts his head in the direction of the parking lot.

“I’ll be outside - don’t keep me waiting.”

[burlowbeanie]

Locked Tomb Timeline, as far as I can tell

This is a long one, and a bit of a mess. I'll be making other posts about the fun date coincidences and my speculations about their implications, but I figured I should give some of the actual evidence in one solid chonky post so I can link to it and don't need to repeat myself later on.

(BD = before death of the earth; AR = after resurrection; BM = before millennium, AM = after millennium)

Unspecified Pre-Death of the earth: Foundation of Canaan house/the facility that Jod et al used for the cryogenic experiments. Establishment of Kuiper installation, Uranus platform, Mars installation w/ room for 5 million, the Lucifer Telescope, and fusion batteries (Ntn 14, Ntn 74, Ntn 189)

----------------------------------

Now! Some pre-resurrection numbers!

Before 2 BD: C-- sides with the crew (Ntn 13)

1 BD: Governments shift away from the cyrogenics plan (Ntn 13)

0 BD: Jod destroys the world

------------------------------------

Now, the most unclear section of the timeline: the resurrection and its immediate aftermath.

Augustine, from Htn 176: “Alfred and I were there early enough to found the Koniortos Court on the Fifth, but Lyctors like Cyth wouldn’t be born for years and years, and she spent her whole life suffering Seventh House woo-woo theories regarding the value of hereditary cancer … whereas Mercy is the oldest lag except for me, and she was out hammering at the Eighth House before the paint was even dry on the Resurrection.”

The resurrection occurs a few weeks after the death of the earth (Ntn 396). Then things get a bit hazy. We know the approximate order of the resurrections of the original ten disciples, but not how far apart they were staggered - was it minutes? Months? Years?

Similarly, Cyrus/Val and Anastasia/Samael are implied to have showed up before Cytherea/Loveday, when Cytherea was almost 30 years old. Both cavaliers have last names associated with their house, which suggests that either the third and ninth were established enough to at least have a small population by the time that they went to Canaan House, or that they took those names/were given those names later on.

Cytherea-as-Dulcinea says that she "dreamed of being a 9th nun" at age 13, and it's unclear if she's speaking as herself or as Dulcinea or how much she was lying as either persona (Gtn 104). Thus, we don't know if the ninth house was established by the time she went to Canaan House, though it seems like the sort of hint that both Cytherea and Muir would have had a fun time dropping.

Thus, while it is possible/seems probably many/most of the houses were established by the time that any of the newer disciples showed up, especially Cytherea, that is unconfirmed. However, it took until at least 30 years after the resurrection, probably more, for all 16 of the disciples to gather.

A rough order of events during this time, some of which may overlap:

Original disciples resurrected

New disciples arrive

Lyctors ascend; Anastasia fails

Alecto is put in the tomb and Cassiopeia dies

The lyctors and Jod flee to the Mithraeum, leaving the system

Particular questions that remain and would help clarify things:

Were Anastasia, Samael, Cyrus, Valancy, and Loveday born or resurrected? It seems like Cytherea was likely born.

When did Anastasia have a child and found the tombkeeper line?

When did Pyrrha (or G1deon!Pyrrha) paint a nursury? Was it the same time she visited Anastasia "before she got settled" (Ntn 85)? Was Anastasia's child the birth she assisted at (Ntn 121)?

When was the ninth founded? When was the prison installation founded? Was there anything on the ninth before Anastasia was told to prepare for Alecto's imprisonment? Samael seems to have been born or resurrected after the ninth was founded, unless he was given his name later?

-------------------

After resurrection: Actual Numbers. Once we get like 100-200 years out from the resurrection, things start to get clearer. Not clear, but clearer.

100 AR: God names himself Gaius (Htn 521). Is this when Cytherea ascends, since she is given credit for the "naming oneself after one's cavalier" thing? Or was that some God bullshit?

200 AR: Alecto put in tomb (Htn 478)

4000 AR: source gram comes from sixth house to BOE (Htn 529)

5000 AR: BOE comes to the attention of jod and the lyctors; they may have existed beforehand but been unable to find the houses/be found (Htn 154). Augustine begins questioning the purpose of the empire (Htn 483).

Moving into the thousand years before the events of the series:

9000 AR/ 1000 BM: Matthias Nonius lives (Gtn 53)

750-700 BM: New Rho contract drawn up (Ntn 206)

519ish BM: beginning planning of dios apate major (Htn 474)

300 BM: Cyth gets angry (Gtn 402). Last contact between second and first houses (Gtn 456).

100 BM: Jod leaves the Mithraeum (Htn 81).

80 BM: Jod joins the Erebos (Htn 81)

40-39 BM: G1deon starts to really annoy Augustine, who speaking in 1 AM states: “He has caused me more pain over these last scant forty years than I dare to admit" (Htn 268). I think Wake makes the most sense as an explanation for this, though it's off by about five years.

34 BM: Wake reinvigorates BOE (Htn 154). Ortus born? That’s a fun coincidence that means nothing.

30 BM: Mercy thinks Jod should have returned to the Mithraeum then (Htn 81).

25-24 BM: BOE finds out about resurrection beasts (Htn 275) because Wake talks to G1deon (Ntn 155)

21 BM: G1 begins his (final) pursuit of wake (Htn 469)

Sometime after 300 BM, most likely 20 BM, Cytherea teaches BOE about steles and obelisks (Ntn 155)

20 BM approximately, presumably, could be earlier: Augustine and Mercy talk to BOE. BOE gets accurate fleet schematics for the first time in a hundred years and eventually the location of the mithraeum, though those were probably earlier with Cytherea and two decades later with Cytherea!Wake respectively (Ntn 155)

19 BM: Isaac’s dad killed by terrorists on [redacted], presumably BOE (Gtn 459). Mercy and Augustine are “talking” (Htn 87); Dios apate major. Mercy sees Cytherea for the last time and Cytherea laughs so much she insults Mercy (Htn 120), which is an understandable response given that Mercy may have described the dios apate major plan and/or requested her involvement. Mercy sees Sarpedon as a young soldier (about 20 years PM; close enough and matches up with dios apate) (Htn 81).

19–18 BM: Wake dies (Htn 88). Gideon born. Creche massacre.

17 BM: Harrow born.

14 BM Gideon’s first escape attempt (Gtn 24)

13 BM: Gideon is not a necromancer confirmed (Gtn 24)

10 BM: Augustine sees Cytherea for the last time (Htn 120). Wake’s bones get put on rotation (Htn 476).

9-8 BM: Harrow is suicidal. Harrow opens the tomb. Harrow hears/sees the body. Onset of psychosis. Unclear in what order (Htn 49, 247).

7 BM: (Harrow is still suicidal but sees the body?). Harrow and Gideon fight (Htn 477). Gideon sees Harrow opening the tomb. Her parents kill themselves. Gideon gets nightmares about being in the tomb (Gtn 202).

5 BM: Harrow starts puppeting (?girl wtf?? What was going on in the intervening two years???) (Gtn 348). Last ninth house chaplains and adepts are lost in action (Htn 81).

2 BM: Gideon enters Drearburgh for the last time

1 BM: Number 7 estimated five years from the Mithraeum (Htn 125).

0 BM, with rough approximates:

Month 1-3: prepping for Canaan house

Month 4: Canaan house

Month 5: harrow throws up; Camilla nonverbal

Canaan house recovery missions from the emperor and BOE — what the fuck. Who got there first. How and why did they miss the other people. Seems like BOE got there, intentionally left H and I but took G’s body??????????

Month 6: Harrow and Ianthe arrive on the Mithraeum

Month 8: Harrow kills her 13th planet with Mercy. It’s desert and triple-sunned. Wake makes posthumous contact with BOE (Ntn 155).

Month 9-10: When Judith says she begins writing her report; she’s with BOE on a wooded double(potentially triple?)-sunned planet. At one point several weeks (or months?) later Mercy shows up. According to Judith, that is. Judith honey I might need to recuse your testimony for somehow being more of an unreliable narrator than the lobotomized traumatized psychotic unmedicated half-dead triple-haunted 201-souled Harrowhark Nonagesimus. Then I could bump this back to month 8 which would make more sense.

Month 10: Harrow catches G1d!Pyrrah with Cytherea!Wake

Between Month 10 and Month 12: Harrow turns 18. Harrow discovers G1d can drain thanergy. Harrow makes soup. Harrow makes Ianthe’s arm. Dios apate minor.

Month 12: Harrow finds Cam and Pal on a wooded planet and sees Judith. Judith tries to warn Harrow about Mercy’s involvement.

Mercy ditches her for unspecified business. I suspect this is when she meets with We Suffer? Was this when she heals Judith?

1 AM

Month 2: death of the emperor. Quick undeath of the emperor. Nona born(?)

Month 5: Station Red-As-Blood abandoned (Ntn 152). The demons show up on Antioch (Ntn 448).

Month (6?): Nona gets a job (Ntn 41).

Month 7: nona gets shot, cam/pal fusion reveal (Ntn 105 through the end of the chapter)

Month 8: events of Ntn

[san8ny]

nearby.

an: SFW with fluff, but there is some underlying hinting to Abby’s conflicting attraction to you; not an original trope obviously, so credit to the authors who’ve done this before.

It wasn't that serious.

'It wasn't that serious', is what they told themselves at first, as they looked at you, seemingly feeling like discarded toys a child leaves once they acquire a newer one— a better one

they were utterly absorbed in envy at how much she paid attention to you,

how she would call you over in the languid mornings, sun barely risen, to brush your tangled hair with a wooden-paddle while everyone else gets a headstart on their chores,

Or maybe, how she would click her tongue and swipe the pads of her thumbs across your sticky supple cheeks when you return from the trees during Maple Syrup season,

Abby Anderson truely had favorites, and it was clearly obvious who it was,

Though no one complained, she was growing seemingly aware at the odds you were becoming with your ranch counterparts,

“I just..god, it’s annoying, y’know?” you mutter to her, lifting your head up from where you lay in the grassy terrain, a small place you and Abby would relax in before attending to the crops, “Like, they weren’t always like this, Harriet was so much nicer and Opal actually use to talk to me.”

Abby hums, tying up her horse before easing herself onto the ground near where you lay, “I think you’re overthinking it.”

“You always say that.”

“Am I ever wrong?”

You smile as you drop your head back down, closing your eyes, “Kinda wish you were.”

Abby chuckles at your words before carefully lifting the brim of her hat and placing it on your face, providing shade to some degree, “Mm.”

After some quiet moments with the rustling of the trees and the Cicadas ticking amongst them, you find yourself peering up from the hat and staring at where Abby rests her eyes,

She had to have been one of the prettiest girls out there by far and the kindest ones,

Long dirty blonde hair, firm blue eyes that softened whenever she conversed with people to contradict her ‘tough guy’ persona, little dottings of freckles that would come and go—everything about her was pretty to you.

Albeit, you and her didn’t get along at first when you arrived on the ranch, but she warmed up to your willingness to befriend her in a way that didn’t feel like smooching, it was genuine.

it also, wasn’t far along the road where she would find herself falling for the very traits in you she previously found annoyance in,

the way you’d look at her in blatant confusion when she insults you with terms you’d never heard about as a city-dweller,

“I think i’d rather you call me a bitch or something..” you’d say with several blinks as she sizes you up,

Abby was humored with your presence around her, but it also gave her a sense of comfort.

You were soft around the edges the southern sun had wilted hers.

While you stare at her through the little peeking spot under the cowboy hat ridge, she cracks an eye open— “You have a staring problem.” She says, yawning as she turns onto her side to face you fully,

“Nu-uh.”

“Yuh-huh” She mocks, groaning as she stretches and sits up, “How long have we been here ‘gain?”

“10 minutes, i’d say? Give or take.” You shrug, copying her actions. The afternoon heat consumes you as you unbutton the top buttons of your flannel, “Not even June yet and it’s burning.”

Sorry, were you speaking?

Abby was too focused on watching the dribble of sweat traveling down your neck to the swell inbetween your tanktop-clad breasts,

“Abs?” You say in slight confusion when she doesn’t give you some small, likely smart-assed retort back.

Her eyes quickly flicker up to yours, blinking before shaking her head, “Y-yeah, yeah. Heat’s ‘jus getting to me too” She coughs out, “Let’s head on down to the roots.”

“Right.” You nod before standing up, “ I CALL DIBS ON THE TURNIPS!”

Abby groans as she watches you race towards your tethered stallions, “C’mon, those are my favorite!”

Though, when you’re not looking, she’s giving you the smallest of smiles,

How she would ever say she loves you romantically without ruining this relationship you both had tugs at her heart-strings,

but until then,

she was content with whatever you threw at her.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Saw you had requests! And this may be a trigger warning but it’s a fix I’ve thought about for months.

Eddie, bestie female reader. You are newer to Hawkins and go to a party with Eddie robin and Steve. Not big into drugs or drinking to stick with punch.

While Eddie is off making some money you’re not paying attention to your cup. And someone slips in something.

Soon you start to feel weird… and scared. Someone finds Eddie who is by your side in a second. Friends freak out your crying and scared possible culprit is found and Eddie wants to kick his ass but he is taking care of you. And then from there where ever you think it could lead? Ed’s taking you home but staying and helping you through your high/trip so sweet doesn’t even need to be secretly in love or it could be but nothing happens because… well after a scary thing like that… no thanks.

Idk it’s been stuck in my head and again don’t write if you’re not comfortable.

Im not going to anon because I’m afraid I may miss if you do write. But again if not that’s totally okay!

Hey, thanks so much for your request!

Word count: 1,723

CW: reader gets roofied, let me know if there’s anything I missed!

Eddie x bestie!fem!reader

You looked around Steve’s house which was filled a bunch of people you didn’t know. You hadn’t really liked parties, but Eddie had begged you to go and you found yourself unable to say no to him. He was just so cool and pretty that you wanted to do whatever he asked when he flashed you those doe brown eyes.

You were still new to town and in no position to pass up friends so that meant hanging around people you didn’t like just so full your social circles. People like Brad were who you despised the most. He had been trying to sleep with you for months only to be met by rejection. He wouldn’t take no for an answer, approaching you every chance he got and that night hadn’t been an exception.

“Hey,” he smiled, leaning over the back of the couch. Eddie was always quick to jump to your defense, but of course he was nowhere to be found, taking an opportunity to sell, it being a huge party and all.

You ignored him, looking down at the red plastic cup in your hand. Eddie had given you some punch that had just been a bunch of different types of alcohol mixed with some juice. You didn’t drink much so it was perfect, the juice completely covering up the bitter alcohol taste that you weren’t a fan of.

You thought that not speaking to Brad would help him get the hint, but that only made him speak again. He took your silence as playing hard to get and goddamn was he determined to get you.

To Brad, you were just another body to use. He loved that you were innocent, having never slept with anyone. He just wanted to add yet another notch to his bedpost, wanting your name to be on the list of virgins he had fucked.

You had felt bad for the girls who had been desperate enough to sleep with Brad and you definitely weren’t going to be one of them. He was gross and you had eyes for only one man. That man being nowhere to be found when you needed him.

You hadn’t been paying attention and Brad had slipped something into your drink, quickly moving away before anyone could catch him. If you wouldn’t say yes, he was going to take matters into his own hands.

But Robin had caught him and hurried over to you to stop you from drinking the now contaminated juice. You had already taken a sip before she was able to get to you. She watched in horror as you swallowed the liquid and quickly took the cup from you. She pulled you in the kitchen to keep an eye on you and poured the juice down the sink.

She then grabbed onto Steve who just so happened to also be in the kitchen and turned him around to face her, panic in her eyes.

“Hey, what’s going on?” He could see the look on her face and started to worry. Robin was known to freak out on a regular basis, but this was different. He could feel it. Something was wrong.

“Y/n was roofied.” He felt his knees go weak at her words and looked at you for any signs of sickness, but you seemed fine. It was only a matter of time before the symptoms took over.

“I’m gonna go get Eddie. Take her to your room,” she told him, looking around the house for the curly head of hair.

Robin was quick to run from the kitchen, pushing through all of the partygoers to find the metal head. She didn’t have much time and it didn’t help that Steve’s house was packed and there was no trace of Eddie anywhere.

Steve took you to his room so you could have some quiet. You already felt dizzy, having trouble walking, feeling like the place was spinning. Everything was distorted and didn’t look right.

You continued you to try to walk but fell to the floor, the drugs in your system quickly taking over. You fell face first in the foyer and people were quick to part like the Red Sea as you laid there in the middle of them.

Everyone just stared at you while Steve was picked. He looked down at your face to see that your nose was red from where it hit the floor. He carried you up the stairs and to his room, hoping that Eddie was going to be there soon. You were fading fast and you looked so scared, it was terrifying to him. He didn’t know you as well as Eddie, but you were his friend and he hated seeing you like that. So scared and helpless.

Steve opened the door and closed it behind him with his foot before carefully laying you on his bed. His heart was racing and he was wondering where the fuck Eddie was. It didn’t take long to get to his room no matter when in the house you were coming from.

Steve sat you up against his headboard, making sure you didn’t fall asleep. He laid next to you awkwardly, not taking his eyes off of you.

“I need Eddie,” you slurred. Steve wanted Eddie too. He was the only one who always knew what you needed. Steve was going to try his best, but he was terrified for you. He couldn’t imagine going through something so scary.

“Eddie’s coming sweetheart. He’ll be here in a second.” Steve wasn’t sure how sure his statement was true, but he was going to believe it anyway.

The door burst open and Eddie and Robin rushed into the room. She sat on the bed next to Steve while Eddie made a beeline for you. He took you into his arms and the two of you slowly lowered yourselves to the floor. You cried into his chest and he let you, knowing how scared you were. You needed to let it out and he was going to let you talk about it if you wanted to.

Robin and Steve made themselves scarce, wanting to give to two of you some space. Eddie pulled you onto the bed and you cuddled up into his side, feeling nothing but dizzy. Everything was doubled and you had to close your eyes so it would go away, but it didn’t. It only got worse when you closed your eyes.

“I’m so fucking sorry, sweetheart. I should have been there with you.” Eddie was going to blame himself for the rest of his life. Sure, if he had been with you, you wouldn’t have been drugged, but it wasn’t his fault. It was just horrible incident and the only person to blame was Brad.

“Eddie, it’s okay,” you slurred. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I should’ve been paying more attention.” He was getting angry that you were blaming yourself. It wasn’t your fault at all. You should have been able to have a drink without worrying whether there were drugs in it or not.

“No,” he said a bit too harshly, sitting up he so could look you in the eyes. “None of this is your fault, y/n. It’s Brad’s.”

“Exactly,” you opened your eyes. “So you shouldn’t be blaming yourself. You should be allowed to leave me for a few minutes without worrying about me.”

“I always worry about you. You’re my best friend. That’s my job. And I didn’t do my job for one night and something horrifying happened to you, y/n. You were assaulted.” That word made it sound so much worse. You knew that was what happened to you, but didn’t really have time to think about it until Eddie had said it.

Just because Brad hadn’t done anything to you physically didn’t mean that you weren’t a victim. Eddie wanted you to know the severity of what had happened and wanted to you to know that you had every right to feel scared.

You fell silent after that, the words heavy between the two of you. Your heart rate quickened as everything set it. You didn’t want to believe it, very much in denial of the severity of the situation. In your mind, if you didn’t acknowledge it, it wasn’t actually happening.

You slowly drifted to sleep and Eddie kept an eye on you to make sure you were okay. He felt sick seeing you like that. You hadn’t been acting like yourself and even after your discussion, he was still blaming himself for what had happened to you. He’d get over it eventually, but for now, he was going to let himself drown in his guilt.

You woke up the next morning from the sun shining through the window. You felt so much better, but you were still a little groggy. You sat up and panicked when Eddie wasn’t by your side but let out a sigh of relief when you saw him sitting at Steve’s desk. He had some toilet paper in his nose and a bag of frozen peas was sitting onto top of one of his hands, his other hand of top of the bag.

He smiled when he looked at you and you returned it, his smile always infections. You eyed the peas once more and wondered what had happened while you were asleep. It seemed like Eddie was always up to trouble.

“What did you do this time?”

“I punched Brad.” He said the words so proudly and for once, you didn’t feel like scolding him. If anyone deserved to have the shit punched out of them, it was him. He deserved a lot more, but you were going to take what you could get as far as his ass kickings went.

“Steve helped. We went to his house this morning and taught him a lesson about dragging women before calling the cops. They arrested him an hour later so he’s definitely not to be bothering you anymore.”

You didn’t think anyone had done something so nice for you. Unbeknownst to you, Eddie would have done anything for you. He would have even left Brad alone if you asked.

“You didn’t have to do that.” You walked over to him and planted yourself in his lap. He wasn’t caught off guard at first, but arm quickly wrapped around your waist while you rested your head on his shoulder.

“I know,” he nodded. “But I wanted to. And that was the least that fucking dick deserved.” It was true, and even though you would probably never to get over what had happened to you, knowing that Brad was behind bars made you feel a whole lot better.

[reblogandlikes]

Self insert Fandom

I've come to realise that most of the toxicity within the acotar fandom is often rooted in a ridiculous amount of self insert. They see a character as them, therefore their actions are absolved. They see another character in their abuser, or worse, 'as' their abusers and so they can never be impartial towards them, thinking the worst because in real life they've dealt with a lot.

I get it. Art can sometimes mimic reality, but they are indeed forgetting that this is a whole fantasy fiction book about human women turned fae getting dicked down with a hint of war and political intrigue. These characters are not, in fact, you or your abusers. Making the series so personal to themselves can then lead to a lack of introspection of the work as a whole made to be enjoyed and critiqued to the readers' preference, whether shallow or in depth.

But because this fandom in particular seem to make these books so personal than reading it as a piece of fiction, they're inflicting real world scenarios onto fictional characters and if their characters face any backlash or reasonable questioning, they take it as a personal attack which for some reason leads to insults and wild assumptions of very REAL people.

"No, no one is saying you should forgive your abuser mum, boyfriend, sister, because this literally isn't about you. I dont know you or your situation. Im talking about *insert character*."

"No, I don't think reactive abuse is OK, though I also don't believe lying about SA is OK either, let alone condoning SA."

"What do you mean it's abusive to lock someone up and then make an excuse to say it's not abuse to lock someone else up?"

The mental gymnastics is truly outstanding. If they're so called morally grey, let them be just that.

Speaking for myself, it's easy to find some commonality in a characters personality. It's written by a whole human who has a personality too, after all. But I do not attach myself to these characters as if they are my family members or those dear to me. They are, in fact, not real, and I will talk about them in the context of a fantasy text, generally.

Now the moment you take their actions out of a fantasy text, every character, and I mean, every character, needs to be dealt with the same scrutiny. Your faves will be called out and dragged. You cannot call real people names, but then think highly of yourself when your faves have done worse. What does that then make you? A racist? A misogynist? An AS denier? An abuse apologist? Someone who endorses apartheid? Someone who's OK with controlling the female body? A war criminal?

You see how absurd that all is?

Honestly, it's not that deep. But again, it's not bad to see yourself in character. Just realise that when people have some reservations about them, they are not calling YOU out. They are strictly talking about that character and that character alone. But maybe if you find so much offence, perhaps you should think about why that is. Look deep and figure out why it troubles you so much. Perhaps they're holding up a mirror, and you simply can not bear to look into it, seeming that that character represents you so much.

I think this is the only fandom I've been involved in where simply daring to disagree with the main MC and side characters can lead to online prosecution and just so much hostility. I've seen some truly nasty comments, and it's boggling. I can imagine how off-putting it may seem to newer readers.

I long for the days when people can talk about the characters and narrative alone without feeling the need to make disclosures about what they support in real life because it's truly unnecessary. I thought reading fiction was meant to be a form of escapism, not defending my moral standpoint.

If I said I enjoyed Katherine Pierce, Klaus Mikaelson and Kai Parker from TVD, what then? They're despicable, but fucking enjoyable. Don't get me started on Game of Thrones characters.

Alright, I'm done now 😅

[flightfoot]

Do you think Luka was a doormat for Marinette? If so, how?

Sort of? One of the reasons Luka annoyed me so much during seasons 2 and 3 (Aside from Lukanette shippers having a habit of demonizing Adrien, Alya, etc), was that he didn't actually seem to have any emotions or ambitions beyond being there for Marinette, to the point that it felt like he was some imaginary boyfriend she cooked up. I really like to try to see things from other characters' perspectives, but when I tried to do that for Luka, I just felt like I was getting brainwashed.

Luka doesn't feel any emotions that would be inconvenient for Marinette in those early seasons, like jealousy at being a second choice, desire to actively compete for her perspective, or anything except wanting to patiently be there for her if she decided she wanted him, and complete acceptance without a hint of bitterness if she chose someone else. I'm not saying he should have been a jerk about it, but he's so chill and has so few problems that it feels inhuman. I far preferred the plotline with Adrien's and Kagami's relationship, Kagami reacted way more like a normal person who has wants and desires of her own. During seasons 2 and 3, the most that Luka was developed outside of his relaitonship with Marinette, is the 30 second clip in Reflekdoll where we see him assuring Juleka. That at least indicates that he HAS relationships outside of just Marinette.

That being said, Luka DID improve in seasons 4 and 5, if only a little. He's still more chill and accepting than I think is natural or healthy, but with his playing therapist to so many people in Migration, it's shown to be a "him" thing, rather than him inexplicably being warped around Marinette in particular. In Truth, it's shown that he IS bothered by Marinette constantly running off and lying to him, even if he's way more accepting about it than he has any right to be. He DOES feel hurt, even if he suppresses it.

Most importantly, he's given emotional baggage of his own, with feeling insecure and abandoned due to his father abandoning him and Juleka, not even knowing who he was. I love that as Truth, he actually got to be ANGRY at Jagged for that abandonment. And afterwards, there were several episodes that touched on his and Juleka's developing relationship with their father, giving Luka more of an anchor in the story outside of just Marinette.

So basically, yeah, I do think Luka's a doormat not only for Marinette, but really for anyone he cares about. He's good at standing up to random jerks, but not at standing up to those who knows don't have any malicious intentions, but still end up hurting him.

But I also think that with how the newer seasons have developed Luka, there's some interesting space to delve into WHY Luka feels the need to subjugate his own emotions, wishes, and desires so much - because it's been proven that he does have them, and doesn't just exist for any particular person's sake in the story.

[majorproblems77]

Alrighty Linked maze fans I hope you're ready, part 1 of 3 for catch-up analysis!

So our good friend Frulleboi has been absolutely cooking with these update's with three in quick succession and I am loving it cause I love it and is great.

This is for the beginning of the Soul Stone chapter. Soul stone part 1.

Now a link to the comic page can be found Here. Please go give it some love :D

For the important stuff!

Linked Maze belongs to @linked-maze and its wonderful creator @frulleboi. (You should follow them, they are wonderful) And as a heads up, Linked maze is for more mature audiences! :)

As usual, you know the drill, Grab some water, Grab some popcorn and prepare for me to ramble at you for however long it is!

Here we go!

Half an hour? So all the areas around with the environment that I spotted before won't help me for the moment?

Ohhhhhh boy

(I've got my eye on this)

Four... Four please.

Like wolfy has a good reason he is preoccupied but like you can just turn around for like 1 moment.

Wolfy really is the real mvp of this little team, he out here doing work! We love him.

Guarantee that the team will fall apart without the wolf who goes 90% of the work and has 90% of the team's brain cells.

"It was at this moment, he discovered..."

This panel made me laugh because of Four's shadow.

The disappointed look on his face, I think the shadow is literally me inside of this universe sometimes. He Craves chaos but also is just like 'Four what are you doing?' at every available opportunity.

Nooooooooo, Whatever do you mean four? God I love him.

And wolfy here is just like, 'My man can't you see I am busy I can't do everything.'

(Me taking notes of this tree on the left here. 3 branches, thin band and a thick area... thinking it's going to be a major landmark)

Then all of a sudden.

Hold up, I recognise this.(I think)

[TANGENT TIME]

I'm probably looking WAY TO far into this as we dont know how this maze works but)

This area here.

A thin band/wall with a larger area and moss on the wall looks KINDA Like the area where Sky meets Wild from back in Waking up PT5.

I know there's some differences between the grass and the tree, but the tree could be off-frame.

I'm not saying that Four (His looks like a newer version of the one we see here) is now in the same area as these guys, but I'm thinking he might be getting close to that region of the world map.

This could also be a clue as to how the maze works. Each region could look near on identical in layout while feeling so much different because of the changes in the environment. (New vs old walls, Tree's VS rock etc)

I feel like I need to get a pen and paper to explain this better, let me know if I do and I will do that.

While it might not be the exact same location, I think there might be more hints as to these guys being the ones we get the group up with next.

Moving on.

Oh man, again with Shadow this man just looks so disappointed with four i love him.

He's like, Are you for real?

There are so many thoughts going through his head. But I think these two do the work for me.

"My friend! Is he okay!" And thennnnn "Oh god im alone with Four"

Wolfy's facial expressions are top-tier in these updates and I love him sm okay.

Short and sweet. But it works either way!

Thanks for hanging out with me on this one, Hope to see you again soon when we hit the next one! :D

Have a great day!

[blackbird-brewster]

Meta: Jemily Queerbaiting

With the huge influx of posts saying 'Jemily is gonna be canon', I really appreciated seeing this post because OP was completely correct. I didn't want to write an entire dissertation as a reply, so I'm making my own post with my personal opinion on this. (All sources are noted in footnotes)

Before I began this rant, for anyone who thinks this is anti-Jemily. It is not. I have shipped Jemily for 18 friggin years and that's never going to change. This post is specifically my thoughts about queer baiting.

First off, I need to note that the showrunners (and the cast members who use social media) KNOW what a huge queer following this show has and that's why we got pansexual Tara Lewis in S16 [1]. Which, in itself, was SOOOOOOO important!!! Our first canonically queer main in SIXTEEN seasons was a middle-aged Black woman!!! That's phenomenal. (The fact it was horrible rep, because they instantly ruined her relationships once her queerness served it's plot point is a whole other post entirely)

In my opinion, the 'big Jemily moment' Paget posted about on Twitter [2] (and AJ hinted at during a recent IG live) is simply queerbaiting to get people to watch S17. I know a lot of you are newer to the fandom and I love your enthusiasm, I really do, ship and let ship, but listen, let's be real, Jemily is not going to be made canon. The showrunners aren't going to suddenly say (after 17 seasons) 'Surprise, Jemily is endgame'. This show has never cared about queer rep and now that CBS/Paramount have already ticked their queer rep box with Tara, they won't be in any rush to add any other characters to it.

Please buckle in, I've got a lot of thoughts on this matter --

What is Queerbaiting?

If you aren't aware of what queerbaiting is, here's a good definition:

Historically, queerbaiting has carried two meanings: the first is an act of aggressive heterosexuality to shut down queer subtext on screen while still teasing and catering to the queer audience in advertising, public relations, and fan engagement strategies; the second is an existing homoerotic tension between two characters played up on screen while met with derision by the professionals behind the scenes. [3]

The Medium article quoted here is from 2017, a time when parasocial relationships were really starting to take over social media. In 2024, actors are now only a mention or tag away online, they have direct conversations with fans, and this process has allowed for an even deeper form of queerbaiting.

Oftentimes online, actors are asked directly about certain ships and while some ignore these questions (usually to avoid breaking their contracts or other repercussions), others (looking at you, Paget) choose to instead tease fans about queer ships. She's done this for years upon years and if I've learned anything in the past twenty-years of existing in fandom spaces it's this -- don't hold your breath. In it's original meaning, for something to be deemed as queerbaiting there had to be malicious, or at least, purposeful intent to string queer fans along by teasing them with suggestive content about the ship in question, while knowing this ship will never come to fruition in canon.

The thing to remember is, Paget and AJ aren't the only ones who know about Jemily shippers -- the network and showrunners are well aware of this ship too. When networks/showrunners figure out they have a strong sapphic fanbase, they love to use that to their advantage to get more viewers and higher ratings. Queerbaiting is a goldmine to keep fans watching long running shows, look at Rizzoli and Isles, Supergirl, and OUAT for examples of this.

Jemily and Queerbaiting:

Ever since Emily joined the BAU in S2 (2006), there have always been fans who ship JJ/Emily (shoutout to the old LJ forums!). Way before celebs were just a tweet away from fans, back when all our fics began with disclaimers so we wouldn't get sued by networks, we went to great lengths to keep our fanworks far removed from actors/showrunners attention.

As far as Jemily goes, this reply from Paget in a 2009 interview with TVGuide.com [4] (which has now been deleted from their site unfortunately, but there are quotes on Tumblr still [4.a]) confirmed some fans' worst fear -- the actors had found our fanworks online.

TVGuide.com: Of course, a band of fans want her to hook up with Hotch.

Brewster: I know! I didn't realize that fans make these videos on YouTube? A.J. Cook sent me a hilarious one that made it look like Prentiss and J.J. were having a secret lesbian affair. You know, when Hotch was blown up in the SUV, we shot this scene where he's in the hospital and I'm standing next to him, looking at his bleeding ear. Our director came in and said, "Paget, you're looking at Hotch like you're in love with him. It looks really weird." So now, every day, Thomas [Gibson] and I flutter our eyelids at each other.

This was the first time I recall anyone acknowledging Jemily shippers publicly and at the time (Jan 2009), the show was still in Season Four (just before CBS fired both AJ and Paget [5]). Paget genuinely said it's 'hilarious' that fans shipped JJ/Emily. Even now, I'll see people say 'We know Paget and AJ have seen Jemily fanvids, so they obviously ship it too' -- but those same people rarely acknowledge the full context of the original answer. Paget not only thought JJ/Emily were 'hilarious', but then she doubled down and turned her reply back to how she and Thomas liked to play up the chemistry between Emily/Hotch.

While no one can say for sure which video it was that AJ sent Paget, just knowing they were watching JJ/Emily fanvids sent a bit of a shockwave through the femslash side of the fandom. To some it felt like an invasion of privacy, fanworks are by fans for fans -- knowing the cast were poking around in fandom spaces added an extra layer of worry around what we fans were posting online. Fifteen years ago, it used to be quite taboo for actors to outwardly discuss shipping or other fanon for whatever show they were in, and we fans were usually comfortably removed from the actors altogether.

Of course, now it's the norm for fans and actors/showrunners to co-exist online and interact with one another. This connection has opened new ways for shows to queerbait their fans. Pretty much every show has some form of social media account now and there is no doubt that the people running those accounts keep up with the most popular ships and hashtags. Not to mention that actors are constantly barraged with questions about whether they ship their character with x,y,z, or whether they think a ship should be made canon, etc. These interactions only serve to benefit the shows themselves, because whether the conversation is for or against a certain ship, it's all just free publicity (Why do you think CM now has a TikTok account?)

Every time AJ or Paget say anything about Jemily, the queer side of the fandom loses their minds. But this has been going on for YEARS now and every single time, it turns out to be nothing but social media hype and queerbaiting. Remember this AJ post? [6] Or what about the notorious reply by Paget to a fan, where she talks about how she and AJ held hands under the table 'for the shippers' [7] I've seen this cycle over and over again, so perhaps I am cynical, but I'm not getting my hopes up that Jemily will ever seriously be canon.

It's widely known now, after both Kirsten [8] and Paget [9] have talked about it, that there was an early idea where Prentiss was supposed to be queer, but that was ultimately scraped before it ever made it on screen. For context, please remember, this show has been airing for nearly twenty years. It began in 2005, during the highly conservative Bush administration. Queer people didn't have rights in the US, we couldn't get married, we were rarely protected under discrimination laws, and we could even be fired for simply being queer (in some states). Diverse queer representation on screen was extremely limited to things like 'The L Word' and 'Queer as Folk' (both aired on Showtime, so they were behind a paywall. And as far as tLw goes, that show was extremely male-gaze focused and is horrible in nearly all regards if you try to rewatch it now). As far as prime time shows went, queer rep was even more rare. Which is why Emily wasn't queer from the get-go.

Yes, things have changed since 2006 in terms of queer rep on TV. We have a myriad of queer identities represented in TV and film nowadays, which is why I think it's so easy for newer fans to say 'lf she was supposed to be gay anyway, they should just make Emily queer in canon!' I know this is what fuels most fans' demands for Emily being confirmed queer, and I get it, I DO. I would be all for it! However, I do not, in one hundred years, actually believe that is going to happen after they already canonically queer confirmed Tara in S16. The fact we even got ONE queer character is ground-breaking for this show.

It's also worth noting, that in the time between Paget's departure in 2012 and her return in 2016, she became very active on Twitter. This was when more and more fans began asking her about Jemily and after Kirsten's AfterEllen interview, fans also pushed for Paget to address the possibility of Emily being gay. 'Pushed' is actually an understatement for some of the outright harassment she would receive. (AJ received some of this harassment too, but less so because she doesn't use social media ass often) Back then, neither of them replied to these things directly. Yet, no matter what either woman posted, the replies were full of Jemily stans begging for her acknowledgement. (Did you know 'stan' is literally a term coined for stalker fans?) I remember one time AJ's friend was missing and she posted info on her IG about it, you know what the replies were? People asking her about Jemily. It was genuinely sickening.

Within this context, it was no surprise to fans when Emily came back in S12 , she and JJ's friendship was seemingly erased. The two women were rarely on screen together in the late seasons, plus the writers saw fit to even give Emily not only one (Mark in London, but two, on-screen boyfriends for the first time in the entire series. I personally do not think these changes to Emily's character were coincidence, I saw the hellscape of what people would say to AJ and Paget online and I fully believe that upon Paget's return to the show, the showrunners purposely tried to distance JJ and Emily to dissuade the more abusive side of the fanbase.

Can I prove that, no. But it is the only reason I can think of as to why Emily S12+ seemingly didn't care about JJ anymore, despite their deep and meaningful friendship. I mean, they both CROSSED THE WORLD to go rescue each other in prior canon -- but when Emily comes back, they acted like they barely knew each other. This was even more prevalent in S16, when JJ's main storylines all revolved around Will, and Emily barely looked at JJ in the entirety of ten episodes. (Remember how Prentiss didn't even hug JJ after bomb, but she did go hug Luke?)

So, do Paget and AJ earnestly ship Jemily, or are they continuing the long tradition of queerbaiting us? Who fucking knows, not me. But based on the history of this fandom, I think I can make a safe bet. (Interestingly, if you search all of Paget's twitter for the word 'Jemily' [10] she only has 3 direct tweets mentioning the ship. I don't think it's a coincidence that two are within the past few months since they started filming S17 (the other one was a RT of Kirsten (who tagged something Jemily)

This is all to say --

Just because Paget and AJ have publicly talked about Jemily,, this doesn't mean it's ever going to happen on screen. And you know what, THAT'S OKAY!! There has been this constant outcry (after Tara became queer confirmed) of 'Do Emily next' or 'Why wasn't it Emily with a girlfriend!?' and 'Jemily needs to be canon in S17!' -- as if people believe their ships aren't worth anything unless they are canon.

That couldn't be further from the truth! Fandom is built on headcanons and fan interpretations and rare pairs and all types of shippers. Your ship does NOT need to be canon for you to enjoy it. I will ship Jemily forever, no matter what. I don't think there will be some magical queer plot in S17, at best, we might actually get to see Emily/JJ on screen together again and after the train wreck that was S16 -- I'll take whatever I can get.

And hey -- if I am completely wrong, if Erica Messer pulls a Korrasami out of her hat, I will be ecstatic. I will be happy to be proved wrong, but at the same time, I'm not going to lose sleep over it and I'm DEFINITELY not going to go hound the actors about it on social media.

Sources:

[1] 2022 Digital Spy article about the importance of Tara's coming out

[2] 04/18/24 Paget Tweet

[3] 2017 Queerbaiting article from medium.com

[4] 2009 Broken TVGuide link

[4.a] Tumblr quote from the above TVGuide Interview

[5] 2010 Kirsten interview screenrant.com

[6] 2019 AJ Instagram Post

[7] 2020 Paget video on Twitter (via @karasluthqr)

[8] 2015 Kirsten interview AfterEllen.com

[9] 2016 Paget Interview CriminalMindsFans.com

[10] @PagetPaget search 'Jemily'

[rainbowsky]

Hi rainbowsky! I'm a new-ish (autumn 2023) Yizhan fan - it's been so much fun to explore and read everything available, your blog included! I really enjoy your opinions and insights. I have a question and a request. Question: When CQL first started airing, what were people saying about the relationship between WWX and LZ in the show, and about the actors playing them? Did the CP start right away? Request: Then later on, when the BTS started appearing (when was that - after the show finished airing, right?), what were people saying about the real interactions between the two actors? Were people shocked? Amazed? Even more curious? I can imagine social media was on fire! But I'd like to hear from someone who "lived" through it in real time. Please give me a description of what it was like - especially what your thoughts and feeling were as you saw it happening. I wish I could have been there! Thank you!

Hi Blbrave! Thanks so much, I'm glad you're enjoying my blog!

This is all a very, very long time ago, but I'll do my best to share what I can remember.

Actually, the CP started before the show began airing. The supertopics were opened during filming in 2018. I think this was inevitable, given that the series is based on a BL story. Of course fans of the novel will go into all of this with an eye toward the two characters and, by extension, GG and DD.

Similarly, as the show was airing of course there were a large number of viewers who knew it was a BL and viewed it as a BL at that time, even though it was being billed as a martial brotherhood series. There was a lot of analysis from fans trying to spot various ways that the production team managed to get around censorship and signal the queer romance between WWX and LWJ.

Others have done far better, more comprehensive analysis of all that than I could ever do, but it's so long ago I don't know where those posts might have gone. Some of this was discussed in my post about queerbaiting, so you can look there for more info.

As I said in that post, one of their smartest ways of highlighting the queer relationship was to downplay romance between the straight characters. We never see a straight couple doing something that we don’t also see LWJ and WWX doing. Yanli's wedding happens off camera, yet we see LWJ and WWX do their bows on camera. There’s never a kiss or any kind of PDA between straight characters, yet we see LWJ and WWX in each other’s arms throughout the series.

We got a gay kiss:

We got gay sex:

There was also the headband repeatedly being described as the domain of only family and spouses, and the various ways they connected it with WWX. WWX grabbing it when he was possessing the paperman, and also at one point being tied to LWJ by the wrist with the headband - all of this signalling that WWX was a spousal figure for LWJ.

There was the drunk scene with LWJ giving WWX chickens (a wedding tradition in China).

And many more examples I won't get into.

There were many of those types of things in the series, and they were discussed enthusiastically at the time. However, I don't think there were many bystanders who made those connections. It was primarily fans of the books/show (i.e. those who appreciated it as a BL story and not as a bromance/friendship story) who saw and discussed those hints.

I know the idea that anyone could be so oblivious to the gay subtext throughout the story that they miss the queerness entirely is hard to get one's head around, but straight viewers usually just see WWX and LWJ as best friends and sworn martial brothers. The show could never have been made or aired if that wasn't the case.

In fact, newer fans might not be aware that there was a lot of controversy during filming because of leaked early attempts to create a straight romance between Wei Wuxian and Wen Qing. Some relationship-building scenes between them were filmed, and at one point in the BTS GG is heard complaining about the straight romance and saying that all those scenes should be deleted.

In the production team's defense, there was doubt at the time about whether the show could air given its source material as a BL novel. They likely had investors and backers pressuring them to make sure that the story was unambiguously straight.

Fans of the novel made a massive uproar about it, threatening to boycott the series. The backlash was so extreme that it became a bigger threat to the success of the show, and the straight romance was killed. We all owe a lot to those agitators! 😅

The BTS

The BTS clips were first discussed in an Untamed press conference (that section of the interview starts at around 36:30). The producer said that in the future some of the behind-the-scenes moments would be shared. GG and DD exchanged a glance and looked extremely uncomfortable with it.

A lot of turtles find that clip funny, and laugh about what GG and DD might 'have to hide', but I have never understood how fans can find GG and DD's discomfort funny.

It might surprise some newer turtles to hear that there were moments where GG and DD appeared to be uncomfortable with the BTS, but there were.

Another moment happened in an interview where GG and DD were asked to explain a BTS scene of the two of them in the boat, where GG is lying in DD's lap. DD turns to the interviewer with a shocked and displeased look on his face and says, "They released this?"

There were other moments as well, but I haven't kept a comprehensive record of all that. This happened long before I clued in on how quickly clips can disappear in this fandom.

I believe that it is totally normal to have mixed feelings about the BTS, and I believe GG and DD are no exception to that. No doubt they enjoy some of the clips and feel uncomfortable about some of them, just like many turtles (myself included).

There were official BTS clips released during promo, but the unofficial BTS clips didn't come until later. I talked in more detail about the unofficial BTS and how they came to be released here.

The unofficial clips began being released by fansites in the fall of 2020. It would be hard to overstate how different the atmosphere around them was to what it is now. Now it's quite common to find BTS clips all over the place, both in C-social media and on international sites like YouTube and Instagram.

However, back in 2020 they were extremely hard to get ahold of, and sharing them outside of where they were initially released was strictly forbidden and frowned upon by fans. In fact, if you dig back through my 2020 posts I'm sure you'll find many posts where I admonish people not to share the BTS clips, and where I bitch about people sharing them without authorization. I also answered a lot of asks about these issues at the time (just one example).

Times have changed a lot, and now everyone is sharing them all very freely without any concerns.

The situation was a lot different back then:

GG and DD had gained a tremendous amount of popularity from the show, but their reputations and careers were not yet fully established and secure.

227 was still an active concern that was still making news and still impacting GG's life directly. He had not yet recovered from any of it and was still mostly lying low. He was constantly being attacked and antis were constantly out to get him.

The Untamed was still fresh and current, and being discussed regularly in the media. Because filming was still fairly recent, what happened during filming would still run the risk of impacting GG and DD's lives and careers.

Fans were coming under very close scrutiny because of 227 and other fandom-related scandals. The government was starting to crack down heavily on fandom culture.

This was all uncharted territory. No one knew how the BTS might be received, or how it might impact GG and DD. Fans were very freaked out about the possibility of anything compromising getting leaked and harming the boys.

No doubt fansites were also worried about how fans might respond to some of the releases, and wanted to ensure they didn't upset or anger fans, or stir up more excitement than could be safely contained within the fandom.

All of this contributed to a climate of extreme caution and secrecy around the release of BTS clips.

We never knew when one might be released, and when they were released they were typically only put online for a few minutes, then deleted. This was all done in an effort to limit the exposure of these clips primarily to turtles who have GGDD's best interests in mind.

The clips were heavily watermarked and overlaid with visual and audio curses that 'reuploaders must die!' ('banyun biss', which I'm sure most of you have encountered in some of the clips you've seen).

Early clips were heavily watermarked.

Those who missed out were out of luck. It was extremely socially unacceptable to re-share clips once they'd been deleted. Those who missed out would have to rely on recaps and transcripts from those who had seen the clips. Fans took to staying up all hours watching and waiting for a release.

Back in those days people tried to save every clip they could, hoarding them greedily. Turtles' phones were filling up with large video files. It's funny to think about now, because the clips are everywhere and so easy to find these days, but back then it was a whole Thing.

The initial releases were sporadic and quite tame as fansites dipped their toes in the water of how all this would be received. Gradually over time clips became more frequent and stayed up longer, and some of the more salacious stuff began being released. Those clips were often accompanied by hilarious intro images.

(For those who don't get it, it's the PornHub logo).

Of course all of the clips were heavily discussed as they came out, and a clearer picture of GG and DD's relationship and of their experience of filming began to take shape over time. Some of the fake rumors (such as the 49 fake candies and the CPN that GG designed a racing suit for DD) were gradually proved to be true as these clips were released. However, that was mostly confined to fandom circles.

There were occasionally times when these clips or their content would cross over into the mainstream and start trending on Weibo. In many of those cases, the hotsearches would be bought and pushed by antis of GG and DD who want to see them cancelled. At those times turtles would jump into action to wash those topics and replace them with mundane, unrelated content.

There were fan theories and fake rumors about GG and DD's reaction to the clips. Sometimes when new clips were released GG and DD would be seen online and turtles assumed they were watching them. Of course, considering the clips featured them, it's highly likely that they did eagerly await releases just like the rest of us.

I suspect that it was likely a mixed bag for them. Some clips might have really stressed them out either upon initial release or after reactions began to emerge, while others likely made them laugh and feel nostalgic about filming.

A large percentage of BXG light banners and slogans came directly out of the BTS, some of which you can see GG and DD discussing in LRLG rumors.

Dumplings, rice noodles, 3+2 biscuits (cr @knivescharade in this post), discussed in this LRLG rumor.

There were definitely a few scandals and close calls that came out of the unofficial BTS, and solos and antis frequently tried to use them against GG and DD and tried to spin negative narratives about their relationship using disingenuous takes and edits of them (they still do to this day).

For example, the clip where GG tells DD that he prefers a natural look to idol makeup was used against GG at the time, and antis tried to make it seem like GG was homophobic and that GG was against men wearing makeup. Some of the clips where they were playfighting or bickering were used to try to create a narrative that they hated each other. That kind of thing.

BTS and fan service

One of the most common questions I've gotten about the BTS - and I still often get this question - is, "Aren't the BTS just acted out/scripted as fan service to promote the show?"

There are a few reasons people have this question in their minds.

Solos #1 narrative about GGDD is that their CP was just for the show and the BTS was all fan service, and nothing about their relationship is real. They push this claim very aggressively on social media anytime GGDD or The Untamed is discussed, and new fans will almost always encounter those claims in this way.

CP fan service is a normal part of how dramas are promoted, so people familiar with Asian dramas will often immediately jump to that assumption about GG and DD and about the BTS.

Heteronormativity leads many people to immediately dismiss the possibility of a gay relationship, which leads them to try to come up with other explanations for those clips.

People naturally have a hard time believing what they're seeing with some of those clips. Some of it is pretty jaw-dropping and it's understandable that some people will be skeptical.

However, there are a lot of really good reasons why these clips are obviously not fan service.

For one thing, the show was billed as a martial brotherhood, not as a romance. Some of the official BTS clearly did try to appeal to CP and MDZS fans and could be counted as fan service, but those weren't even the ones BXG are most excited about. (There is a playlist of some of the official BTS clips here).

The most exciting stuff was never released during promo, and almost none of it is overtly romantic. A lot of it is really crude and totally unreleasable as promo. GG and DD are lewd, crude and often rude in ways that only two people who are really close could ever get away with. In many cases it's the casual way GG and DD constantly cross polite social boundaries with each other that shows their intimacy, rather than anything overtly sweet or romantic.

A lot of it is also totally incomprehensible to regular audiences. You have to be a turtle digging deeply into GGDD to understand the significance of most of it. For example the way GG took care of DD on his birthday, or the way DD constantly bargained and haggled with GG to get him to eat more.

Most importantly, if it was all fan service then why did GG and DD never do any joint CP endorsements? The entire point of doing that type of fan service is to make a buck. Other drama CP - including BL - do this all the time.

And it doesn't make sense that a production that was as low budget as The Untamed could afford to have the two lead actors learn a whole second set of lines and do a whole second performance that never ended up getting released.

And of course, none of that explains why the bulk of the BTS clips ended up in the hands of fans and released years after the show finished airing. A lot of it still has never been released to this day.

I've often joked that if the BTS were scripted they were far more complex, more melodramatic and better written than the drama itself. You just can't come up with this stuff in a writer's room. 😅

Anyway, this post got a bit long but hopefully it gives you a bit more of a picture of what it was all like at the time. Sorry, I guess I didn't talk much about my own feelings/reactions, but hopefully you can get somewhat of a sense.

Overall it was exciting, but I also had some deep reservations about it all (and got a lot of hate mail for voicing those feelings, too). Keep in mind this wasn't long after 227, so I think it's understandable that I was feeling very wary about everything.

But that's all water under the bridge now. It's been many years, and if the BTS were going to harm GGDD it would have already happened. I think it's all pretty safe territory now.

Edit: some more of my thoughts and feelings at the time:

One of the most exciting things for me about the BTS clips was seeing so many of the fake rumors being proved true. There were a lot of rumors (including the 49 fake candies) that I totally scoffed at when I first heard about them, only to later find via the BTS clips that I had been totally wrong about them and that these things had actually happened, and even crazier things were gradually revealed.

Things were changing pretty rapidly for a while there now that I think about it.

Learning more about their relationship and seeing just how much they looked out for each other was another big one for me. Also the timeline. The BTS really reinforced my belief in The Devil's Timeline (the belief that they got together prior to filming).

But overall that was a very different time in the fandom as well. There were always so many candies coming out, not just BTS clips but things that came out of GG and DD's activities and social media posts. It was a really really busy time in the fandom.

Since then there has been a government crackdown on fandom culture, on the entertainment industry, on LGBTQ etc. in China, plus DD's split with Nike and him having to delete a lot of his GG candy posts from his Weibo account.

Things are so different now, and unfortunately a lot of it for the worse. Being a turtle is not always easy, and I'm sure being GG and DD can't always be easy either. We make it work, but I do sometimes look back wistfully on the freer, more exciting times in the fandom.

More such times could come in the future. We just have to keep moving forward and hope for the best.

Somewhat related: I did a semi-comprehensive post about GG and DD's reaction to turtles here.