#I’ve said before that I feel like I’m burdening others by existing and that I’m more of an obligation to people than I am a friend

[deityofhearts]

as of late I’ve been super unhappy and not sure if/when I’ll be actually happy and I feel like I’m not allowed to like, be in anyone’s lives until I’m happy

[hoshifighting]

Arranged Marriage — Hoshi x Reader

— Synopsis: In contrast to the tired old plots of arranged marriages where the couple can't stand each other, you and Soonyoung are childhood friends. It's not just like marrying a friend—no, no, actually, it is marrying a friend, no-frills and simple. — WC: 10k — WARNINGS: smut, fluff, fingering, oral (m. receiving), penetrative sex, multiple orgasms, choking, one single slap on the ass, hair pulling, aftercare, whipped!hoshi, hoshi teases reader until she almost cries for dick, mentions of alcohol, mentions of body fluids (cum, sweat), DIRTY TALK—prob the nastiest dirty talk i've written.

You knew this day would come. 

Growing up in a world where luxury, money, stock exchange, and business were the pillars of existence, arranged marriages were just another part of the cycle. Two patrimonies merging into one for the benefit of both families—it was a tradition as old as time. 

Some couples embraced the spotlight, showcasing their unity to the world. Others barely tolerated each other, living in separate homes to maintain a fake image. There were also those whose mutual disdain led to chaos both in their personal lives and in the family businesses.

When you saw Soonyoung in your home, dressed in a suit that clearly wasn’t his style, you felt a hurricane of emotions. His usual vibrant, carefree energy seemed stifled under the weight of the tailored fabric. You greeted him and his family alongside your parents, both of you a shy mess, but something in his eyes told you things might not be as bad as you feared.

“Hey,” Soonyoung murmured as you both found a moment away from the adults’ formal discussions. “This suit is killing me.”

You laughed softly, feeling a sense of relief. “You look... different.”

“Yeah, definitely not my usual style, you know me” he grinned, loosening his tie. “But I guess we’re both out of our comfort zones today.”

You nodded, memories flooding back of the two of you playing outside when kids, during business congresses, your parents inside discussing mergers and acquisitions while you and Soonyoung chased each other around the gardens. “Do you remember those days?”

“Of course,” he said, eyes lighting up with nostalgia. “We had our own little world, didn’t we?”

“We did,” you replied. “And now, here we are.”

“So, how do you feel about this?” he asked, shy, looking at your expensive dress, clearly set for tonight. “About us... getting married?”

“I’ve been preparing for it my whole life, I guess,” you said honestly. “But with you... it feels different. Less intimidating."

“I feel the same,” Soonyoung admitted. “I mean, if it had to be anyone, I’m glad it’s you.”

You smiled. “Maybe we can make this work. Find a balance between our lifes.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “We can create something new, something that’s ours.”

You looked at him, seeing not just the boy you grew up with, but a partner. Someone who understood the complexities of your world and was willing to navigate them with you.

You looked around your house, taking in the scene. Soonyoung’s family mingled with yours, coworkers from your parents’ firms exchanged polite conversation, and your and Soonyoung’s nephews were playing circles around the couch. 

The weight of the day pressed on your shoulders, a burden that didn’t match the elegance of the dress you were wearing for the marriage proposal.

Soonyoung’s eyes met yours, noticing your tense posture. “You’re nervous, aren’t you?” he asked softly.

You looked at him, sulking, and he recognized the same expression you had when you were eight. 

He leaned in, whispering, “Don’t tell anyone, but I brought a bottle of tequila. It’s in my trunk. Would you like some to relax?”

You stared at him in silence before nodding with an exasperated look, feeling like it was exactly what you needed.

“Did you bring a shot cup?” you asked, following him outside.

He stopped, bottle in hand, and you both laughed. Taking the bottle from him, you leaned against his car, opened the cap, and poured a generous shot—maybe a little more—straight into your mouth. Soonyoung watched, his mouth wide open in surprise. You handed the bottle back to him.

“Why are you nervous?” he asked, taking a swig himself, looking comically exaggerated as he did. “I’m the one who has to kneel and propose today. My heart feels like it’s about to explode.”

You both laughed like teenagers getting away with something forbidden, hiding behind his car.

After a moment of comfortable silence, you broke it. “Do you have the ring here?”

He looked at you and nodded.

“Can I see it?” you asked, your curiosity piqued as if he had a rare Pokémon card.

“Is that right?” he teased.

You made doe eyes and asked, “Pretty please?”

He smiled, pulling a small black box from his pocket and opening it for you. 

The diamond ring sparkled in your eyes, its brilliance captivating. “It’s beautiful,” you murmured.

Soonyoung nodded, grinning. “My sister helped me choose it. I originally wanted a diamond shaped like a cat, but she said that wasn’t appropriate.”

You laughed, the image of a cat-shaped diamond making you smile. “It’s beautiful, but a kitten-shaped ring sounds adorable. I would’ve loved that too.”

His grin widened, a small, proud smile lighting up his face as you both admired the ring.

Your moment was interrupted by Soonyoung’s mom's voice, echoing from the house. “Oh my god, are you already proposing?”

Soonyoung choked on his own saliva, his eyes wide with panic. The best thing to do now? Say no and face his mother’s scolding for showing the ring prematurely, or actually propose right then and there?

Before he could think it through, he found himself on one knee on the sidewalk, his heart pounding. You quickly hid the tequila bottle behind your back.

“Soonyoung, what are you doing?” you whispered, eyes wide.

“I... I’m improvising,” he replied, clearing his throat. “Y/N, will you marry me?”

The spontaneity of it all, made you laugh and cry at the same time, you needed to pretend you were actually emotional. “Yes, Soonyoung. Yes, I will.”

You barely noticed the sudden crowd that had gathered around you, they'd appeared out of nowhere, all eyes on the two of you. Soonyoung’s hand trembled slightly as he slid the ring onto your finger, the cool metal contrasting with the warmth of his touch.

You smiled nervously at him, teeth gritted. “Hug me,” you whispered urgently, your eyes darting to the tequila bottle that was precariously wedged behind your back. “Please, put the tequila bottle inside your car. It's practically shoved inside my ass.”

Soonyoung blinked, processing your words before a grin spread across his face. He pulled you into a tight hug, the kind that felt both reassuring and grounding. As he embraced you, he expertly reached behind you, his fingers brushing against the bottle. 

You could feel his body shaking slightly with suppressed laughter.

“Hang on,” he whispered back.

He managed to grab the bottle and discreetly slid it out from behind you. Still holding you close, he took a step back towards the car, opening the door with one hand and slipping the bottle inside. The whole maneuver was so smooth that you doubted anyone noticed the clandestine operation.

That moment eased the tension of the night, but the tequila hadn’t taken effect yet, and you knew you had to keep an eye on Soonyoung. His alcohol tolerance was notoriously low, and you didn’t want him to embarrass himself—or worse, get into trouble.

As the night wound down and Soonyoung’s dad started to lead him to the car, Soonyoung sulked, trying to resist. “I want to talk a bit more to my bride,” he protested, his voice slightly slurred. His words elicited good-natured laughter from both families, who were enjoying the unexpected turn of events.

You walked over to him, giving him a warm hug and patting his head affectionately. “It’s time to go home, Soonyoung,” you said gently.

He looked at you with wide, earnest eyes, the warmth in his gaze reminding you of why you felt less nervous than you should. Soonyoung had always been warm-hearted, and maybe that’s why you felt a sense of calm amidst the chaos.

As you pulled back from the hug, Soonyoung’s hand lingered in yours for a moment longer. “Promise you’ll call me tomorrow?” he asked, his tone earnest despite his tipsiness.

“Promise,” you replied, smiling as you squeezed his hand.

With one last affectionate look, Soonyoung allowed his dad to guide him into the car. You watched as the vehicle pulled away. Your parents approached, their expressions a blend of amusement and expectation.

“Well, that was quite a night,” your mom said, her eyes twinkling with delight.

“Yes, it was,” you agreed, glancing at your dad, who nodded in approval.

“You two make a good pair,” your dad said, his tone warm. “I’m glad to see you both getting along so well.”

Your parents were now expectant, believing you and Soonyoung were truly becoming a couple. And in a way, you were—just not in the conventional sense they imagined.

The next day, even though it was a promise to a drunk boy, you called Soonyoung in the morning. Like any typical business wedding, the preparations started swiftly, aiming to have the wedding happen as soon as possible. Today, you were going to choose the food and drinks for the event.

When Soonyoung arrived, he was all tidied up, but his face was clearly tired. You laughed a bit, “You look…”

He completed for you, “Fucked?”

You chuckled, “I wasn’t going to say that.”

“Long night,” he admitted, rubbing his eyes. “But I’m here.”

“Good, because we have a lot to decide,” you replied, glancing at the event agent who was discussing the dessert options.

As you both looked at the event agent, who insisted on adding superfluous things to the sweets—like a layer of gold—you exchanged amused glances. The agent was enthusiastically explaining the virtues of gold-leaf-covered desserts.

“Gold? For us to... poop?” Soonyoung murmured incredulously.

You stifled a laugh and leaned closer to him. “Can’t it be something more tasty?”

The agent looked slightly taken aback. “Gold leaf is quite a statement piece.”

Soonyoung nodded, trying to be polite. “But we were thinking of something simpler.”

“How about churros?” you suggest.

The agent blinked, clearly not expecting that. “Churros? For a wedding?”

“Why not?” you said with a grin. “They’re delicious, and everyone loves them.”

“But they don’t exactly scream luxury,” the agent protested.

“They scream fun,” Soonyoung countered. “And isn’t that what weddings are supposed to be?”

The agent sighed, making a note. “Alright, churros it is. Anything else?”

“Maybe some street-style tacos?” he added, enjoying the agent’s bewildered expression.

“Tacos?” the agent repeated, as if the word was foreign.

“Yeah, why not?” Soonyoung agreed. “Let’s keep it simple and tasty.”

The agent finally nodded, albeit reluctantly. “Very well. I’ll make the arrangements.”

Honestly, days flew by with Soonyoung by your side. Planning every little detail of the wedding together brought both fun and challenges, especially when your tastes didn’t always align. It was a bit complicated at first, like when you two were choosing the destination for your honeymoon. 

Soonyoung wanted an adventure-packed trip to the Amazon rainforest, while you preferred a relaxing beach resort in the Maldives. The negotiations were intense, but you eventually settled on a compromise.

Choosing Soonyoung’s suit also proved to be a task. He insisted on wearing a tie with a tiger print, a nod to his childhood love for tigers. You were surprised that his fascination with the big cats had persisted, but you drew the line at a tiger tie. “Absolutely not,” you told him firmly, trying to imagine the looks you’d get. “A tiger tie is a no from me, and I think a lot of people would agree.”

“Fine,” he conceded with a sigh, but you could tell he was already thinking about how to sneak a little tiger motif into his outfit.

When it came to choosing your dress, you were accompanied by your mom, Soonyoung’s mom, and his sister. 

Soonyoung, the only man in the group, tagged along as well. The other brides at the boutique initially assumed he was either your brother or your stylist. 

Their jaws nearly dropped when they overheard he was actually the groom.

One of the brides, adjusting her veil in front of a mirror, turned to you, wide-eyed. “Wait, he’s your husband-to-be?”

“Yes, he is,” you confirmed with a smile, watching Soonyoung fuss over a lace detail on one of the dresses.

Another bride laughed softly. “Lucky you! He’s so involved.”

“He’s been amazing,” you said. “Except for his obsession with tiger prints.”

Soonyoung, overhearing, grinned and walked over. “What can I say? Tigers are cool.”

“Soonyoung, you’re a unique groom,” his sister teased, shaking her head.

As you tried on dresses, Soonyoung offered his opinions with surprising thoughtfulness, balancing out his more quirky suggestions. He was genuinely invested in making sure you felt beautiful and confident in your choice.

You’d tried on everything: the biggest gowns, the tightest silhouettes, dresses with endless layers of skirts, and others that hugged your hips so closely it felt like they were molded to your skin. 

There were corsets that took your breath away—literally—and fabrics that shimmered under the boutique lights. 

But this time, when you left the dressing room, you were wearing a veil.

Soonyoung’s eyes didn’t lie for a second. He liked this one very much. The women around you—your mom, Soonyoung’s mom, and his sister—fussed over the dress, adjusting it here and there, offering compliments. But Soonyoung was speechless.

If Soonyoung were to be completely honest, up until this moment, he had always seen you as his friend, the girl he was going to marry because of an arrangement. You were the same girl who used to run around the events, eluding the security guards with your mischievous giggles. 

But now, you were different. You were a woman. His woman. And you looked stunning.

He couldn’t take his eyes off you. The transformation was breathtaking. You stood there, looking radiant in your wedding dress, and for the first time, the reality of the situation hit him. You weren’t just a friend anymore; you were about to become his partner, his wife.

He was so lost in the moment that he didn’t realize he was gawking until you and the women turned to him, waiting for his response. He blinked, snapping back to reality, and managed to find his voice.

“You look...” he started, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the right words. “You look absolutely stunning.”

Your cheeks flushed at his earnest compliment. “You really think so?”

Soonyoung nodded, still unable to tear his eyes away. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.”

His sister grinned, nudging him playfully. “Told you she’d find the perfect dress.”

Your mom wiped away a tear, “You’re going to make a beautiful bride.”

Soonyoung’s mom stepped forward, adjusting a tiny detail on the veil. “This is the one. It’s perfect.”

You looked at yourself in the mirror, feeling a sense of certainty wash over you. “Yes, this is the one,” you said, smiling at the reflection and then at the people around you who made this moment even more special.

[...]

The days leading up to the wedding were a whirlwind of activity. Every day brought something new to choose, and your creativity was running dry. You were worn out, and Soonyoung knew it. Today had been particularly exhausting.

As the realtor showed you yet another option for apartments in the Metropole, you responded with short answers, your enthusiasm long gone after visiting sixteen places that day alone.

“So, what do you think?” the realtor asked.

Soonyoung noticed your hesitation. “Can I talk with my wife for a sec?” he asked.

The realtor nodded and walked off, giving you space.

“Y/N-nie... are you okay?” Soonyoung asked softly, looking at you through his lashes.

You sighed, your shoulders slumping. “I’m so tired,” you confessed.

He took a step closer, his voice softening. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You breathed out heavily. “My family is putting a lot of pressure on me, and I’m working relentlessly at the company. I can’t wait for us to get married…”

Soonyoung’s heart sank a little. “You want to get married just to get free from it?”

“No, it’s not just that. It’s everything. The wedding preparations, the constant decisions, the endless work... I feel like I’m drowning.”

He reached out, gently taking your hand. “We don’t have to rush this, you know. We can take our time.”

“But everyone’s expecting so much from us,” you replied, feeling the weight of expectations.

“Let them expect,” he said firmly. “And I want this to be as much about you as it is about us.”

“I just... I don’t want to disappoint anyone,” you admitted.

“You won’t,” Soonyoung assured you. “You’ve already done so much. It’s okay to take a step back and breathe.”

You took a deep breath, feeling a bit lighter. “Alright. Let’s look at this apartment one more time.”

Soonyoung nodded, giving you an encouraging smile. “And if it’s not the one, we’ll keep looking until we find the perfect place for us.”

You laughed softly, the tension easing. “You always know how to make things better.”

“Just doing my job as your soon-to-be husband,” he said playfully.

Soonyoung was doing an incredible job. 

From what you’d heard from friends who had gone through the same situation, they didn’t have partners like Soonyoung. You felt proud of him. 

He was your rock, making sure you took a breath when you were overwhelmed by the slightest things. He even insisted you didn't move a finger during brunch, making you so relaxed that you found the apartment you’d been searching for on the very same day.

The drive home was quiet, the car enveloped in a peaceful silence that allowed you a moment to rest. You laid your head back as he drove, appreciating the tranquility. Once you arrived, you stayed seated for a bit, soaking in the comfort of the quiet.

Soonyoung looked at you, waiting patiently. When you finally looked up, he gave you a gentle smile. “Ready to go in?”

You nodded, feeling a bit more refreshed. “Yeah, let’s go.”

He stepped out of the car and came around to your side, opening the door for you. “Take your time,” he said softly.

You appreciated his patience as you slowly got out of the car. “Thank you, Soonyoung.”

He smiled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you walked towards the house. “I’m just doing what any good partner would do.”

You leaned into him, feeling grateful for his support. “I don’t think everyone is as lucky as I am.”

He chuckled softly. “Well, I’m pretty lucky too, you know.”

As you entered the house, you felt a sense of relief. The apartment search was over, and you had found the perfect place. More importantly, you had Soonyoung by your side, making every step of this journey easier.

“So, what’s next on our list?” he asked, guiding you to the living room.

You sank into the couch, feeling the exhaustion of the day catch up to you. “I think a nap is next on my list.”

He laughed, sitting beside you. “That sounds like a perfect plan.”

You closed your eyes, feeling the weight of the day lift off your shoulders. “Wake me up in an hour?”

[...]

The days flew by in a blur with the whirlwind of wedding preparations. It felt like only moments ago you were choosing flowers, tasting cakes, and finalizing guest lists. 

Now, as you stood at the end of the aisle, holding a bouquet in front of Soonyoung, the reality of the moment hit you with full force.

The weight of the dress and the pressure of looking perfect made your hands sweat like never before. You felt like a porcelain doll, perfectly polished and poised.

Soonyoung stood there, his eyes fixed on you with pride. He couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness. Here you were, a perfect woman by his side, and even better, an old friend he'd known for years. 

The familiarity of your presence brought him comfort. Despite the fact that you hadn’t really dated, the idea of having someone as pretty and cool as you with him every day made him feel at ease about the whole situation.

As you walked down the aisle, your eyes met his, and a small, reassuring smile played on his lips. He looked stunning in his suit, and the way he stood tall, waiting for you, made your heart flutter. 

You could see a hint of nervousness in his eyes, mirroring your own, but there was also a calmness there, a silent promise that everything would be alright.

When you finally reached him, he extended his hand towards you. He leaned in slightly, whispering just loud enough for you to hear, “You look amazing.”

You blushed, your nerves momentarily forgotten. “Thank you. You look pretty good yourself.”

The vows were sincere, filled with heartfelt words that spoke more to your shared friendship than any romantic notion. Both of you couldn’t help but giggle as you remembered all the crazy things you’d done together as kids. 

Your minds flashed to the time you stole sweets from an event or when you both jumped into a water fountain during an important dinner with company directors.

As the officiant declared you husband and wife, all of these memories became a sweet reverie. You leaned in and whispered with a playful glint in your eye, “Are you going to kiss my lips or my cheek?”

Soonyoung blushed, clearly caught off guard by the question. A kiss on the cheek was typical in such moments since most arranged couples didn’t share a romantic bond. He stammered for a moment, his face flushing a deep shade of pink.

“Well… uh… I suppose the cheek would be safe,” he mumbled, eyes darting nervously.

You couldn’t help but chuckle softly, leaning closer. “But where’s the fun in that, Soonyoung?”

He looked at you, his eyes widening slightly. The playful challenge in your gaze gave him the courage he needed. With a deep breath, he moved in, his hand gently cupping your face.

“I think I’ll go for the lips,” he whispered back, his voice steadying.

The crowd held its breath as Soonyoung leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a soft, tender kiss. It was a simple kiss, not passionate, but filled with the warmth of years of friendship and the promise of a shared future. The applause that followed was thunderous, but all you could focus on was the feeling of his lips against yours.

As you pulled away, you both wore matching grins. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” you teased,

He laughed, shaking his head. “Not bad at all. Actually, it was kind of nice.”

You linked arms, turning to face the crowd together. Your parents looked relieved and proud, while your friends were cheering loudly, clearly entertained by the spectacle. Soonyoung’s eyes met yours again, and there was a newfound spark there, full of possibilities.

As you both shared champagne with your parents, Soonyoung playfully asked, "No tequila tonight?" You were about to respond when his mom's voice cut in, "Tequila?"

Soonyoung’s eyes widened, and his mouth twisted into a frown as he tried to suppress his laughter. You quickly improvised, "Huh, h-he meant... tacos! We had tacos with tequila last time, remember?" You forced a smile, hoping it sounded convincing enough. His mom seemed satisfied with the answer, nodding along.

After mingling with guests—aka talking with people from work about the next meeting—you finally found a moment to escape the spotlight. You and Soonyoung crouched behind the kitchen, hiding from the crowd. The chefs chuckled at the sight of the newlyweds sneaking bites of food, but they made sure to hand you the best eats, knowing how overwhelming the day could be.

Soonyoung grinned, playfully nudging you. "We're so used to doing this at parties that we're practically pros now."

You nodded in agreement, a mischievous smile on your face. "Even though it's our own wedding party," you said, shaking your head in disbelief.

He chuckled, looking at the gold ring on your finger with a sense of wonder. "Our wedding... I still can't believe it. Oh my god, we're grown adults now."

You couldn’t help but laugh, reaching out to pat his head mockingly. "We've been grown adults for... kind of a long time already," you teased, a playful glint in your eye.

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly, then leaned in closer, his voice softening. "Yeah, but it feels different now. Like, we're really starting something new."

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words. It was true. The reality of your situation was sinking in, but in a way, it felt comforting. You had each other, and that made everything seem a little less daunting. As you sat there, hidden away from the chaos of the celebration, it struck you how much you appreciated this moment—just the two of you, stealing away for a breather.

“Shall we follow tradition?” Soonyoung asks, a playful glint in his eyes. You frown, confused, as he reaches into the fridge and pulls out a bottle of tequila.

“Should tequila be kept in the fridge?” you ask, laughing at the sight.

“I hope so,” he replies, pouring the liquid into a cup. “This one is expensive.”

You raise an eyebrow, taking the cup from him. “The cheapest has the same effect,” you say, waiting for him to pour his own.

He chuckles, raising his glass. “But today’s a special day. We deserve the good stuff.”

You laugh it off, crossing your arms before taking the shot together. The familiar burn makes you both scrunch up your faces.

The wedding party was truly one of a kind. You and Soonyoung were a bit too excited, turning the waltz space into a wild dance floor. 

At first, your parents were too embarrassed to join, especially at the sight of Soonyoung twerking on you. But soon, even the directors and business partners were on the dance floor, dancing and drinking extravagantly.

[...]

The next morning, you and Soonyoung were woken up by the buzzing of your phones. 

Your makeup was smudged and stamped on the pillow, and you were still in your wedding dress. You scratched your scalp, feeling the bobby pins still tangled in your hair. 

Soonyoung was no better; his shirt was unbuttoned to his belly button, his tie was loosened around his neck, and his hair looked like a bird's nest. He scratched his forehead groggily. Despite sharing the same bed, you both seemed unbothered by it.

You grabbed your phone and saw the company group chat flooded with messages:

“Wow, last night was incredible! Congrats to the newlyweds!”

“I can't believe we all danced that much! My feet are killing me. :')”

“Best wedding party ever! So happy for you guys!”

“My head is pounding, but it was totally worth it. ^^ Cheers to you both!”

“I’m still recovering from all that dancing. What a party!”

“Never thought I’d see the CEO breakdancing. ㅋㅋㅋㅋ”

You couldn't help but smile at the messages, as Soonyoung peeked over your shoulder, a sleepy grin spreading across his face.

“My head hurts,” Soonyoung complains, rubbing his temples.

You adjust the corset of your dress, feeling the tightness around your ribs. "My ribs are squeezed," you grumble, wincing as you try to get comfortable. "I can't believe I slept in this."

He yawns, glancing down at your leg. "You even kept the garter on," he points out, noticing the delicate band still around your thigh.

You crack your neck, feeling the weight of the long night. "Your sister gave it to me, so I put it on," you explain, lifting the voluminous skirt to reveal the bridal garter.

His eyes widen comically. "My sister?! Is there something I don't know?"

You frown at him, a bit confused. "You don’t know about the tradition?"

Soonyoung looks a bit lost, scratching his head. "I mean, it’s my first time getting married."

You sigh, laying back down. "Traditionally, the groom is supposed to take it off when... taking the virginity," you explain, watching his face turn a shade of pink.

His eyes dart around nervously, processing the information. "So... my sister thought I was... a virgin?"

You shrug, teasing, "Probably. Are you?"

He laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Definitely not. And you?"

You raise an eyebrow, smirking. "Nope. Sorry to disappoint."

He chuckles, finally relaxing. "Good to know. Not that it matters, but... it's funny to think about how everyone just assumes stuff."

“Are you going to take it off?” you tease, stretching your leg up and wiggling your foot playfully. Your eyes glint mischievously as you watch Soonyoung’s reaction.

He scoffs, but a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “What, you mean right now?” His eyes flicker to your thigh, then quickly back up to your face, trying to gauge if you’re serious or just messing with him.

You arch an eyebrow, maintaining your playful expression. “Why not? It’s tradition, right? Don’t you want to fulfill your husbandly duties?” You stretch your leg out further, making the garter more visible.

Soonyoung chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable,” he mutters, but there’s a sparkle of joy in his eyes. He reaches out hesitantly, his fingers brushing lightly against your thigh. The touch sends a shiver to your skin, and you can’t help but giggle.

“What’s the matter?” you prod, your voice dripping with mock innocence. “You’re not getting cold feet, are you?”

He rolls his eyes, trying to suppress a laugh. “Not at all,” 

You bute your lip as his fingers graze the lacy fabric of the garter. His touch is feather-light, almost ticklish, and you squirm a bit under his hand.

Soonyoung smirks, clearly enjoying your reaction. “You’re squirming,” he notes, his voice low and teasing. “Does that mean you’re nervous?”

You scoff, shaking your head. “Me? Nervous? Please,” you retort, trying to sound confident despite the rapid beating of your heart. “I’m just surprised you’re taking so long. I thought you’d be an expert at this.”

He chuckles, sliding his hand a bit higher up your thigh, his thumb brushing against your skin in slow, deliberate strokes. “Oh, I am,” he replies smoothly. “Just savoring the moment.”

“Well, don’t take too long,” you murmur, your voice softening slightly. “We wouldn’t want to miss out on any other wedding traditions.”

Soonyoung grins, his fingers hooking under the garter. “Right, can’t forget those,” he says, his voice tinged with a hint of naughtiness. 

He gently tugs on the garter, slowly sliding it down your leg, his eyes never leaving yours. 

As he finally slips the garter off, he holds it up triumphantly, a goofy grin on his face. “There, tradition fulfilled,” he declares, waving the garter like a trophy.

You laugh, shaking your head at his antics. “Congratulations,” you say, clapping mockingly. “You’ve successfully removed a piece of elastic lace. Truly, a remarkable achievement.”

He bows dramatically, playing along. “Thank you, thank you,” he says, flashing you a cheeky smile. “It was a tough job, but someone had to do it.”

You can’t help but laugh, the light-hearted banter making the moment feel even more special. Soonyoung’s hand lingers on your leg for a moment longer before he finally lets go.

As Soonyoung gets up, stretching his arms with a yawn, he announces, "I'm going to take a bath." He heads towards the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

You sit up, still feeling the effects of last night's festivities, and shout after him, “Ya! Ladies first!”

From behind the closed door, you hear Soonyoung's laughter echo in the bathroom. “Sorry, didn’t hear you over the sound of me already starting the water!” he calls back, his voice filled with playful defiance.

You shake your head, smiling to yourself. It’s these little moments that make everything feel so natural and easy with him. After a few minutes, you hear the sound of running water stop, and Soonyoung emerges from the bathroom, his hair damp and a towel wrapped around his waist.

“All yours,” he says, grinning. “I left some hot water for you, too.”

You roll your eyes playfully, grabbing your toiletries and heading into the bathroom. The warm water is a welcome relief, washing away the remnants of makeup and the night's events. After a quick shower, you step out feeling slightly more human, though the hangover still lingers.

As you both finish getting ready, the thought of breakfast crosses your mind. However, just the idea of food makes your stomach churn. The hotel's breakfast spread is typically lavish, but today, the thought of greasy bacon and pastries is anything but appetizing.

Soonyoung, dressed in a casual outfit, catches your expression as you look at the food options. “Yeah, not feeling it either,” he says, rubbing his temple. “Let's skip it.”

You nod in agreement, both of you opting for just a coffee to stave off the worst of the hangover. With minimal conversation, you gather your belongings, checking out of the hotel and heading straight to the airport.

But one thing you definitely didn’t expect was Soonyoung falling asleep on your shoulder within the first thirty minutes of the flight. His head rested heavily against you, and his hand, seemingly by accident, was placed on your thigh. 

As he softly snored, you couldn’t help but chuckle at how comfortable he looked. Anyone passing by would probably think you two were an old married couple, so naturally attuned to each other.

His head's weight pressed down on your shoulder, a constant reminder of his presence. Every now and then, you felt him subconsciously moisturizing his lips, a small, almost imperceptible movement that somehow made the moment even more cute.

You glanced at the small TV screen in front of you, trying to focus on the movie playing. It was a romance novel adaptation, the kind with sweeping gestures and grand declarations of love.

Normally, you might have rolled your eyes at the cliché, but with Soonyoung sleeping peacefully beside you, it felt oddly fitting.

As the plane cruised through the sky, you found yourself getting lost in the storyline, occasionally glancing at Soonyoung. His breathing was steady, a gentle rhythm that added to the soothing hum of the plane. 

You shifted slightly, trying to get more comfortable without disturbing him, but his hand tightened instinctively on your thigh, holding you in place. It was a small, protective gesture that made your heart flutter.

What you loved the most was when Soonyoung finally woke up, blinking sleepily and then immediately apologizing. "I'm so sorry," he repeated, his face flushed with embarrassment. You chuckled, assuring him it was okay, that he had every right to rest. He seemed genuinely mortified, even offering, “You can sleep on my shoulder too, I promise.”

You smiled at his earnestness, brushing it off with a light, “Maybe on the way back, then,” as the announcement came that you were about to land.

Once you arrived, Soonyoung was quick to grab the suitcases from the taxi, his efficiency a comfort as you made your way to the hotel's check-in counter.

The concierge’s eyes seemed to linger on you a little too long, his gaze sliding over your sundress and perhaps admiring more than just the attire. 

As you waited for the receptionist, the concierge leaned casually on the counter, offering a friendly, yet slightly flirtatious, smile.

“First time here, ma’am?” he asked, his tone smooth and inviting.

“Well, yes...” you replied, keeping your voice polite but detached. You could feel the weight of his attention and tried to subtly stretch your hand, making sure the gold ring on your finger was clearly visible.

The concierge didn’t seem to get the hint, or perhaps he chose to ignore it. “You’re in for a treat. We’ve got some wonderful spots for—”

Before he could continue, you felt Soonyoung's presence behind you, a comforting warmth at your back. His body pressed lightly against yours, a subtle yet possessive gesture that didn’t go unnoticed. His hand slipped around your waist, resting just below your belly, the touch gentle but unmistakably protective.

He leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. “Everything alright?” he murmured, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity and a subtle edge.

You could almost feel the shift in the air. The concierge straightened up, his expression flickering between surprise and a polite smile. “Oh, just making sure your stay is perfect,” he said, his tone now more professional, eyes darting between you and Soonyoung.

“Thank you,” Soonyoung replied, his voice steady. His hand didn’t move from its spot on your belly, and the slight squeeze he gave was enough to send a clear message. You leaned back into him, feeling a rush of warmth at his silent claim.

The receptionist finally returned with your room keys, handing them over with a bright, “Welcome to our hotel! We hope you enjoy your stay.” With the keys in hand, you and Soonyoung made your way to the elevator.

As the doors closed, sealing you both from the world outside, you turned to Soonyoung with a smirk. “Looks like someone’s a little possessive.”

He grinned back, a playful glint in his eyes. “Just making sure everyone knows you’re taken.”

You tease him back with a playful smirk. “Well, it’s just a business marriage. You shouldn’t worry about stuff like that,” you say, your tone light and slightly mocking.

Soonyoung scoffs, turning his gaze to the side with a dramatic sigh. “You’re such an idiot,” he mocks, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“An idiot, hm?” you counter, crossing your arms with a smirk. “Well, I’m an idiot you agreed to marry, so I guess that makes you twice the fool.”

He raises an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Sharp tongue of yours, huh?”

You nod, feigning innocence. “What can I say? I’ve had years of practice.”

Soonyoung leans in closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “You know, it’s a shame. I was really looking forward to giving you something special once we got to our hotel room.”

Your curiosity piques immediately. “Something special? Like what?”

He grins, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Oh, just something that’ll make you remember tonight.”

You raise an eyebrow, trying to gauge his meaning. “Something that’ll make me remember tonight, huh? Care to elaborate?”

Soonyoung chuckles, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Oh, I think you already know what I’m talking about.”

You narrow your eyes, playfully challenging him. “Do I? Because you’re being awfully vague.”

He leans back, enjoying the game. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

The teasing glint in his eyes only fuels your curiosity further. You know exactly what he’s implying, but you play along, eager to hear him say it outright.

“So,” you press, “what is it? Can you give me a hint?”

Soonyoung’s grin widens, clearly relishing the moment. “Let’s just say it’s something that’ll make you very excited. And not just because of the hotel’s decor.”

You roll your eyes, laughing softly. “Alright, alright. I get it. You’re being all mysterious.”

You sulk, trailing behind Soonyoung as he walks down the hallway toward your room. “Tell me, pleeeease,” you plead.

Soonyoung glances back at you with a mischievous smile. “Nope, not telling,” he says, his grin widening as he enjoys your insistence.

When you reach the door, Soonyoung unlocks it and pushes it open, gesturing for you to enter. You walk in, your eyes scanning the room briefly, but your focus quickly returns to Soonyoung. He places the suitcases by the door and then hops onto the bed, sprawling out with a relaxed sigh.

You stay standing by the door, your arms crossed over your chest, giving him a sulky, upset look. 

“So,” Soonyoung says with a defiant glare, “am I forgetting something?”

You pout, trying to look as curious and frustrated as possible. “You’ve got me curious,” you admit, your eyes wide.

He laughs, brushing his hand through his hair with a playful sigh. “You’re almost throwing a tantrum over this?”

Soonyoung slides his hand down his abdomen slowly, getting lower and lower, until he's wrapping his fingers around his cock through his white shorts. The outline is clear, thick, and perfectly defined against the fabric.

He gives it a little shake, a sly smile playing on his lips as he watches your reaction.

You stare at him in shock, your knees almost giving way as you take in the sight. Your mouth opens slightly, but no words come out as you struggle to process what you're seeing.

Soonyoung’s smile widens, clearly enjoying the effect he’s having on you. “Are you surprised?”

He chuckles softly, clearly pleased with your reaction. “Well, I figured it was time to give you a little hint,” he says, his hand still resting casually on his bulge. “So, do you think you’re ready to find out what else I have in store for tonight?”

You stammer, unable to look away from the outline of his cock pressed against the fabric of his shorts. “Do we have to wait until nightfall?”

Soonyoung licks his lips, his gaze never leaving you. “Oh,” he drawls, “but you have to walk properly tonight, so we can go to the restaurant.”

Your eyes darken, a fire igniting within you. “You think I can’t handle all of this inside?” 

He raises an eyebrows. “You shouldn’t,” he says, his voice dripping with devilishness. “It’s just a business wedding, after all.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Just a business wedding, huh? You really want to test me?”

Soonyoung chuckles, clearly enjoying the playful back-and-forth. “That’s right. Let’s see if you can keep your composure while we enjoy a nice dinner.”

You take a deep breath, feeling a rush of adrenaline. “Challenge accepted,” 

You’ve never been so turned on by someone’s mere presence before. The entire city tour was a cruel game of torture, all at Soonyoung’s hands. 

In the taxi, his hand had wandered to your nude thigh, brushing against your skin like a feather. The way his fingers lightly caressed your inner leg made your heart race and your breath catch. 

At the restaurant, the casual caresses continued. His leg pressed against yours under the table, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

The warmth of his skin against yours, the way he would occasionally let his knee slide up your thigh—each movement was like an electric current surging through you, leaving you squirming in your seat.

Walking through the jewelry fair was an exercise in restraint. As you admired the sparkling displays, Soonyoung’s hands kept drifting to the exposed skin of your back. His touch was light, almost playful, but each graze against your bare skin made you shiver with need. 

You could barely focus on the dazzling jewels in front of you; your mind was consumed with the need for him.

By the time you were back in the elevator, you felt like you were on the edge of losing control. You could feel his eyes on you, sharp and hungry, as you pressed yourself against the wall. 

You turned your face away, but you couldn’t hide the truth from him. Your nipples, straining against your dress, betrayed your arousal. Your legs, pressed tightly together, were a clear sign of your desperation. Even your unsteady breaths gave you away.

When you finally arrived at the hotel room, you barely made it inside before your desperation took over. 

You throw him against the wall, hands planted firmly on his chest. The sound reverberates through the room, probably making the neighbors wonder what the hell is going on. His usually small eyes are wide, staring at you flaggerblasted. 

Your breath mingles with his as you lean in, letting your lips barely graze his. Your voice comes out breathy, almost desperate, “Please. Stop teasing me.”

For a moment, he's stunned, caught off guard by the whininess in your voice and the look on your face—like you might break if he doesn't give you what you need right now.

It's a twisted scenario, considering you're his childhood friend turned wife is standing before him with an expression that borders on agony—an agony only he can alleviate.

For a moment, he looks like he might laugh, but he knows he's on the verge of losing all sense of control, but a part of him relishes the idea. 

“Say it again,” he murmurs. He knows he's playing with fire, but he can't resist the thrill. His lips barely brush against yours, teasing, taunting.

“Soonyoung, I'm going to fucking cry if you don't—”

“Hold it,” he commands,you shudder, your breath hitching as he lifts your dress. And you comply, bunching the fabric in your fists to keep it out of the way. 

His hand slides down the front of your panties, and your head falls back. 

Soonyoung leans in, his lips ghosting over your ear. “You’re so fucking impatient,” he growls. 

His fingers slide through your slick folds, finding you wet and wanting, throbbing everytime he rubs his fat fingers on you. “You’ve never even tasted my cock, and you’re already obsessed, huh?” He presses his thumb against your clit, making you gasp. “You’re such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

You whimper, your hips bucking against his hand. You can barely think straight. “Please, Soonyoung,” you beg again, your voice cracking.

He chuckles darkly, clearly relishing your desperation. “You want my cock so bad, don't you?” His fingers slide inside you, curling just right, and you cry out. “You want me to fuck you senseless? Make you scream my name?”

“Yes,” you breathe, your voice barely a whisper. The words spill out of you, unfiltered and raw. “I want you to ruin me.”

“You’ve never had anyone fill you up like I will,” he says. “I’m gonna stretch you out so good, baby. You’ll be begging for more, even when you can’t take it.”

The dirty talk, the sheer vulgarity of his words, makes you even wetter. You feel like you're on the verge of losing control, and it's rousing. 

Soonyoung's fingers pump in and out of you, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge. His thumb rubs relentless circles on your clit, and you can feel the tension building, winding tighter and tighter.

“You’re gonna cum on my fingers first,” he whispers. “And then I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you won’t be able to walk straight for days. Is that what you want, baby? To be fucked so good, you can’t even think about anything else?”

“Yes, yes, please,” you pant, your voice high and desperate. You can feel the orgasm building, Soonyoung's touch is all-consuming, driving you wild with every stroke.

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs.“So eager to please. I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good.”

Here and there, Soonyoung is driving you insane with his body affixed to the wall, one strong arm holding your leg up. His wrist swiveling to match his fingers as they explore your weeping cunt and his repetitive rubbing of the areas that cause you to roll your eyes. 

You cry out, gasping as you roll your hips onto his fingers, the orgasm making you forget what would be appropriate at the time. Soonyoung's fingers work you through it, drawing out every last drop of you.

As you come down from the high, you realize you're still clinging to him, fingers deep on his muscular shoulders, your breaths coming in hiccups. Soonyoung pulls his fingers out of you, and you feel a pang of loss.

Your legs feel like jelly, and you can barely stand. Soonyoung catches you, pulling you close. 

Soonyoung's eyes rake over you, his smirk widening as he takes in the sight of your trembling legs. “You're trembling,” he chuckle. His gaze drops to the slick mess between your thighs, and he bites his lip, clearly reveling in the sight. “Better than this... you're literally dripping,” appreciating. 

He lets your leg down, holding you firmly as he guides you back onto the bed. The plush mattress sinks under your weight.

“God forgive me,” he continues, “but if our mothers weren't in that dressing room that day, I would've fucked you right there in the store. With that princess veil of yours... I would've pinned you against the mirror and made you scream my name.”

Your mouth falls open. The image of him taking you into that bridal shop, surrounded by white lace and satin, ​​hitting you like a punch to the gut.

You're not sure what shocks you more: his bold declaration or the way your body reacts to it, growing wetter with every word.

He smirks at your reaction.

“What's the matter, princess? Cat got your tongue?" He teases. His fingers slip under the waistband of your panties, slowly dragging them down your legs. “Or are you just too turned on to speak?"

He's right; you're completely at his mercy, unable to form a coherent thought, let alone a response.

He strips off his shirt, revealing the sculpted lines of his torso, then shucks off his shorts. His erection strains against the fabric of his boxers, and he groans, closing his eyes and tilting his head back as he palms himself.

“I could've fucked you on that altar,” he visualize. "In front of all those guests. Just to show everyone that no matter how arranged this marriage was, you're mine. No one else's.”

He opens his eyes, locking onto yours. “I would've spread you open right there, had you screaming my name, showing them all who you belong to."

His dirty words, the way he claims you with every syllable, makes your head spin.

Soonyoung's hand moves over his bulge, his eyes never leaving yours. “You don't even know how much I've wanted you,” he hisses. “How much I want to fuck you senseless, make you mine in every way.”

He leans over you, his breath hot against your ear. “And tonight, I'm going to do just that. I'm going to fuck you so hard, you'll forget about everyone else. Just me, and this cock inside you, filling you up until you can't think straight.”

You squirm, your body responding to his filthy promises. You can't tear your eyes away from him, your mind racing with the possibilities of what the night holds. 

Soonyoung's fingers brush against the hem of your dress, and you shudder at the contact. “Take it off,” he orders, his voice rough. “I want you naked, spread out on this bed, ready for me.” His eyes bore into yours, and you know he's not just asking—he's demanding. 

You slip your dress over your head, tossing it aside as you finally catch sight of Soonyoung completely naked. His hand moves over his erection, the cockhead glistening with precum. The sight makes you lick your lips.

“Can you—” he starts to ask, but you cut him off, not needing him to finish.

“Yes!” you nearly moan. His eyes darken, a smirk playing on his lips as you drop to your knees in front of him.

You take a moment to appreciate the sight before you. His cock is thick and veined, the head an angry red, glossy with precum. You can almost taste it just from looking.

Tentatively, you lean in and press a soft kiss to the tip, tasting the salty precum on your tongue. It's musky and slightly bitter, but it makes you want to choke on this cock. You swirl your tongue around the head, savoring the taste and the way his breath hitches above you.

Soonyoung's hand tangles in your hair, guiding you closer. “Yes, baby,” he groans, his voice thick with need. “Just like that.”

Encouraged by his reaction, you take him deeper into your mouth, your lips stretching around his girth. The texture of his cock is smooth yet rigid, the veins pulsating against your tongue. You hollow your cheeks, creating a tight seal as you bob your head, taking more of him with each movement.

His hips jerk forward involuntarily, and you hear a strangled moan escape his lips. “Shit, that feels so good,” he pants, his grip on your hair tightening. You look up at him through your lashes, your eyes meeting his. The sight of him looking down at you, his face twisted in pleasure, spurs you on.

You slide your hand up his thigh, wrapping it around the base of his cock to stroke what you can't fit in your mouth. Your other hand cups his balls, gently massaging them as you continue to suck him. 

You hum around his length, sending vibrations through him. He shudders, a deep groan rumbling from his chest. “You're so fucking good at this,” he praises, his voice breathless. “So eager, so perfect.”

You moan around his cock at the praise. You take him deeper, pushing your limits as you feel him hit the back of your throat. You gag slightly but push through, wanting to please him, wanting to show him how much you want this.

“Y/N,” he gasps, his hips bucking forward again. “You're going to make me cum if you keep doing that.”His voice is strained, you don't know if he's warning you or if he's desperate.

You don't let up, doubling your efforts. You suck harder, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head every time you pull back. Your hand continues to pump the base of his cock, matching the rhythm of your mouth. You can feel him throbbing, his cock pulsing with need.

Soonyoung's moans grow louder, more desperate. His breaths come in uneven pants, his body tense with the need for release. “Fuck, Y/N, I'm so close,” he warns, his voice breaking.

You look up at him, your eyes locking with his as you take him even deeper. You want to see him come undone, to watch him lose control because of you. You feel his cock twitch in your mouth, and with one last swirl of your tongue, he lets out a choked moan.

He comes hard, his hips jerking as he spills into your mouth. The taste of his release floods your senses, warm and salty. You swallow every drop, savoring the way he trembles above you. His hand in your hair tightens, holding you in place as he rides out his orgasm.

His hand gently strokes your hair after, a contrast to the rough grip from moments before. You pull back, licking your lips and savoring the last taste of him.

He lifts you up effortlessly, his lips crashing into yours. He doesn't care that his cock was just in your mouth seconds ago or that his cum lingers on your tongue. The taste of himself on your lips makes him moan, the sound vibrating between you.

After a moment, he pulls back, one hand wrapping around your throat, not tight but firm enough to make you feel his presence. His eyes bore into yours, as he licks his sensitive lips.

“You were sucking me so good,” he rasps, “that I almost said ‘I love you’.” 

A laugh bursts out of you, hearty and genuine, and he watches you with a smirk. 

“I swear,” he continues, his tone playful. “if I'd known marrying you would come with benefits like this, I would've done it way sooner.” “I feel like I owe you something after that blowjob,” he says, his voice dropping into a deeper, more sultry tone.

You bite your lip, a dirty thought flashing through your mind, and Soonyoung picks up on it immediately. Soonyoung's gaze narrows, reading the filth in your expression

“What is it? What do you want?” he asks excitedly.

“Can you fuck me… doggy style?” you ask.

“Yes, I can,” The corners of his mouth twitch, barely holding back a grin.

You look up, pretending to be lost in thought, then say, “Can you fuck me in missionary?”

He nods again, biting his lip, his grip on your throat tightening just a little.

“Can you fuck me inside… the shower?” 

He presses you tightly against him, his hand gripping your waist possessively, but your gaze still eating him whole. 

“I can fuck you upside down, sideways, any way you want, baby,” he answers, his voice steady and confident. “Just say the word, and I'll make it happen.”

You moan in response. Too early to say that you're already dumb for his cock?

“Get on all fours and lift that pretty ass for me.”

As you crawl up the bed, you make sure to put on a show. You arch your back, lifting your ass higher, giving Soonyoung the view he wants. You wiggle it a little, teasing him. 

The motion makes your pussy lips part slightly, already slick and ready for him. You can feel his eyes on you, burning with thirst. Without warning, his hand comes down hard on your ass, the sharp sting making you gasp. You let out a yelp. You know that mark will be there tomorrow, like a postmark, like a stamp, like a reminder of this moment, and the thought makes you even wetter.

He moves behind you, the bed dipping under his weight. You feel his hands on your hips, gripping you firmly as he positions himself. You can't help but push back against him, seeking more contact.

“So fucking perfect,” he mutters, running his hands over the curves of your ass, squeezing the flesh and kneading it roughly. He spreads you open, taking in the sight of your wetness.  “Look at how ready you are for me. You're dripping, baby.”

You moan, pushing back against him, desperate for more. “Please, Soonyoung, I need you.”

“Fuck, you sound so desperate,” he taunts, positioning himself behind you. His cock slides against your folds, teasing you, making you whimper. “Beg for it. Beg for my cock.”

“Please, Soonyoung, fuck me,” you whine. “I need your cock inside me, please. I can’t wait any longer.”

He doesn't tease, doesn't make you wait any longer. He thrusts in with one hard, deep stroke, filling you completely. The sudden intrusion makes you cry out, a slight discomfort as your walls stretch around him. But it makes your toes curl. 

“God, you’re so tight,” he groans, gripping your hips as he starts to move. “So fucking tight and wet for me. You feel that? That’s my cock stretching your pussy.”

You moan loudly, the pleasure building with each thrust. “Yes, Soonyoung, I feel it. It feels so good. Fuck me harder.”

He picks up the pace, his hips snapping against yours, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room. He reaches around, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing it in tight, fast circles. The sudden burst of pleasure makes you gasp, your body jolting.

He pulls back slowly, only to slam back in, setting a rough, punishing rhythm, making you roll your eyes back.

He's so deep, hitting spots you didn't even know existed. Each thrust makes you see stars, and you can't help but moan loudly, not caring if the entire hotel hears you. The stretch, the fullness, it's all so overwhelming, so fucking good.

“Come on,” he urges, voice a low growl. “Cum for me, baby. Let me feel you squeeze this cock.”

It's all too much. The feel of his cock, his fingers on your clit, the dirty words spilling from his lips—it all sends you over the edge. The second orgasm of the night making you feel already exhausted. Your voice hoarse, as you feel yourself sloppier between your legs. 

There's no mercy in his movements; he's fucking you through your high, pushing you beyond your limits. Each time he hits your cervix, a sharp jolt of pleasure-pain ripples through you, making your arms tremble uncontrollably.

You try to hold yourself up, but your strength falters. With a soft cry, your arms give out, and your chest falls against the bed. Soonyoung lets out a low chuckle, a smug grin spreading across his face as he watches you crumble beneath him. Even with your body slack, you're impossibly tight around him, your pussy squeezing him like a vice. 

Soonyoung’s hands grip your hips tightly, holding you in place as he continues to pound into you from behind. You can feel his cock throbbing inside you, stretching you, making your walls clench involuntarily around him. 

He leans over you, his breath hot against your ear, and you can hear the pride in his voice as he coos, “Aww, look at you. So fucking helpless, so fucking wrecked. You can’t even hold yourself up, can you?” 

You can barely muster a response, a breathy whimper escaping your lips as you feel the tears start to stream down your cheeks. It’s an almost incredulous feeling, the tears mixing with the sweat on your face. 

You’ve never been fucked like this before, never been pushed to the brink and then beyond, your body betraying you as it trembles under his control. It’s a raw, visceral experience that leaves you gasping for air, your mind a hazy blur of feel.

Soonyoung notices the tears, and his smirk grows wider. “Look at you, crying for me,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “Is it too much, baby? Too fucking good? Love being fucked so hard you can’t even think straight?” 

His hand moves from your hip to your hair, tangling his fingers in it and pulling your head back, forcing you to arch your back even more. The angle shifts, and he hits that perfect spot inside you, making you moan loudly, your voice cracking with the intensity of it all.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he groans, his hips snapping forward with even more force. “God, you’re squeezing me so fucking hard. It’s like your pussy doesn’t want to let me go.” He punctuates his words with deep, hard thrusts that leave you reeling, each one sending a jolt of pleasure-pain through your body.

“So pretty when you cry,” he continues, his tone almost taunting. “I could do this all day, just watch you fall apart on my cock” His words are filthy, degrading, but they ignite something inside you, a desperate need for more. 

The way he speaks to you, the way he claims you with each word and each thrust, is addictive.

You can’t hold back your sobs. “Please,” you manage to choke out, not even sure what you’re begging for anymore. 

More, less, anything—just something to ease the dizzying sensation coursing through you.

He laughs softly, a dark, knowing sound that makes your skin prickle. “Please what, baby? You want me to stop? You want me to fuck you harder?” 

He pulls out almost completely, the emptiness leaving you gasping, and then slams back in with a force that makes your whole body jolt.

“You’re so fucking greedy. Can’t get enough, can you? You want this cock to ruin you, want me to fuck you so good you’ll feel it for days.”

All you can do is moan and sob, your body shuddering with each thrust as he pounds into you. The bed creaks under the force of his movements, it’s dirty, raw, and utterly nasty.

“Gonna make you cum again,” he murmurs, his voice a dark promise. 

And as you feel the tension building inside you again, that familiar coil of pleasure tightening in your belly—you know he’s right.

He lays you gently on the bed, your back sinking into the mattress. Your face, flushed and glistening with sweat, looks completely wrecked, completely exhausted. Soonyoung feels a brief flicker of pity, but it quickly dissipates as you babble out your dirty words, barely coherent but dripping with need. “Please... Soonyoung... more, need you so bad... fuck…”

He smirks, spreading your wobbly legs apart, exposing the slick, swollen mess between them. “You can barely form a sentence, and yet you still want more.”

He slides his cock back inside you, stretching you open once more. 

Soonyoung's thumb finds your clit again, and he begins to work it in slow, light-touch circles. The sensation is maddening, a delicious contrast to the deep, methodical thrusts of his cock. 

He watches your face intently, drinking in every expression, every gasp and whimper."That's it, baby," he coos. “Let me see that pretty face when you cum.”

You can barely keep your eyes open, your body overly sensitive from the previous orgasms, but he doesn't let up.

His other hand moves to your chest, fondling your breast, his fingers pinching and rolling your nipple before sliding up to wrap around your throat. This time, the grip is firm, real, and you can feel the delicious pressure as he chokes you just enough to make your head spin.

He leans in closer, his eyes never leaving your face. 

You cling to him, your arms wrapping tightly around his body, pulling him closer as if you could merge with him, become one. The scent of sweat and skin mingling in the air—it all consumes you. 

Your body is trembling, the tension coiling tighter and tighter in your core, a white-hot band of pressure that threatens to snap. Soonyoung's moans are louder now, but they seem distant, like they're coming from underwater, muffled by the roaring in your ears.

His pace quickens, and you feel yourself losing control, your mind slipping away from the physical world. The room, the bed, even Soonyoung—all of it fades into the background. 

There's only the blinding, all-encompassing pleasure that fills every nerve, every cell in your body. It's like being pulled under a wave, the sensation crashing over you with a force that's almost violent.

Your thighs tremble uncontrollably, and you can feel the muscles in your abdomen clenching, the buildup to your orgasm reaching its peak.

And then, it hits. The climax rips through you, a white-hot explosion that leaves you gasping, the world narrowing down to the blinding sensation of pure, unadulterated pleasure. 

Your back arches off the bed, your mouth opening in a silent scream as your vision goes white. The intensity is mind-numbing, erasing everything else from your mind except the overwhelming euphoria that pulses through you.

Your body shakes with the force of it, your legs quivering, toes curling as the pleasure radiates outward from your core. You can feel the slickness between your thighs, the way your walls flutter and squeeze around Soonyoung, pulling him deeper inside you. 

Soonyoung's name falls from your lips in a choked sob, your voice hoarse and trembling. 

You slowly come back to reality, feeling the weight of Soonyoung's body on top of you, his cum warm and sticky between your bellies.

Soonyoung pants loudly, trying to catch his breath. He lifts his head slightly to look at you, concern flickering in his eyes despite the satisfied smile on his lips. “You okay, wifey?” he asks.

You manage a weak smile, still feeling the aftershocks of your intense orgasm. “I’m okay, hubby,”

His smile widens, and he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Good,” he murmurs. “You were amazing.”

You chuckle softly, the sound a bit strained. “You weren’t too bad yourself,” you tease, your hand coming up to rest on his back, feeling the muscles still taut from effort.

He laughs, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating against your own. “Glad I could satisfy my wife on our first night together,” 

“Think we should clean up?” Soonyoung asks after a while.

“Probably,” you agree, though neither of you makes a move to get up just yet. You’re too content, too wrapped up in the warmth and comfort of each other’s presence.

Eventually, with a reluctant sigh, Soonyoung shifts, carefully pulling away from you. The cool air hits your skin, making you shiver slightly. He helps you sit up, his hands gentle and supportive as you both make your way to the bathroom.

The weight of the wedding ring on your finger feels heavier now, more symbolic than ever. It’s not just a piece of jewelry; it’s a constant reminder of the commitment you’ve made and the life you’re building together.

Soonyoung, despite his own exhaustion, is kneeling beside the tub, gently washing you. His focused expression as he works to make sure you’re clean and comfortable. The sight of him, so dedicated and caring, makes your heart swell.

You feel a pang of guilt as you see the tiredness etched on his face, a reminder of how much he’s given for you, both physically and emotionally. Your legs, still trembling from the aftermath of the passion, had given up on you, leaving you reliant on him. The thought of him taking care of you, even in his weariness, makes you feel both grateful and a bit ashamed.

“Hey,” you say softly, reaching out to gently touch his arm. “You don’t have to do this. I can manage on my own.”

Soonyoung looks up at you, his eyes softening as he smiles. “I want to,” he says quietly. “You took care of me earlier, and now it’s my turn to take care of you. Besides, it’s kind of nice, being able to do this for you.”

You look him in the eye and sense the truth in his words. His warm, comforting smile belies the weariness that is evident in the lines on his face. 

[...]

As you and Soonyoung lie together in bed, the room is quiet except for the soft rustling of the sheets and the occasional sigh from either of you. The memories of what just happened still lingers in the air, making both of you feel a bit shy and stunned.

As Soonyoung lays his head on your chest, you can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. He sighs contentedly, his fingers lightly tracing patterns around your breast. 

“So,” he begins, his voice tinged with both surprise and a hint of playfulness, “when I hinted at what I wanted, I honestly didn’t think you'd go for it. I was kind of... hoping, but also preparing for a rejection.”

You chuckle softly, your fingers running through his hair. “Oh really? And why not?”

“Well, for one, you’re ridiculously hot. I didn’t think you’d be that into it right off the bat.”

You giggle, feeling a rush of confidence. “Oh, come on. Why wouldn’t I? You’re hot, and let’s be honest, you knew exactly what you were doing.”

“Damn, so you think I’m hot, huh? And here I was thinking I’d have to put in a little more effort.” He rises to look at you, but you make him lay again, your cheeks flushed.

“I can’t believe we managed to go from ‘I do’ to ‘Let’s fuck’ in just a few days. We really don’t waste any time, do we?” You say, grinning. 

“Yeah, I guess I underestimated how much I’d resist you, but I knew I was in trouble from the moment we got married… I thought I’d be a strong soldier, holding out a bit longer.”

He hums thinking. 

“I’m surprised I managed to hold out for as long as I did.” he finishes.

You raise an eyebrow, a naughty smile playing on your lips. "Well, I guess you’re not as disciplined as you thought. Seems like you fell for me quicker than you’d like to admit.”

Soonyoung’s eyes sparkle. “You’ve got me completely hooked.”

You let out a dramatic sigh, your hand resting on his cheek. “Poor soldier. Captured by the enemy and all. What will you do now?”

He leans in, brushing his lips against yours in a tender kiss. "I guess I’ll just have to surrender to you completely.”

“Even the strongest can fall. And let’s be real, I’m pretty good at making sure my soldiers surrender.” You shrugged, smirking. 

He bursts into laughter, shaking his head in disbelief. “Damn, you really know how to make a guy feel like a total pushover.”

“I plan on keeping you hooked, you know—well, at least until the next time we have a ‘conversation’ like tonight."

“Well, if this is what marriage looks like, I think I’m going to enjoy every minute of it.”

[peachesofteal]

The Pit

COD masterlist Part 1/2 - Part 2

Ghost/Soap/female reader 6.3k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI, dub con, kidnapping, manipulative hurt/comfort, whump, the guys shave you, humiliation, forced orgasm, predator/prey, medical inaccuracies. Clothed males/naked female. The Pit by Silversun Pickups. Horror-ish. Misery inspired.

Winter in the mountains can be cruel. 

This is something you’ve always known, even as a child. You were raised with it. Chose to return to it after school, decided to make a go of it, of a life here, as an adult. You knew what you were getting yourself into, long cold winters that felt both bleak and promising, unblemished blankets of snow possessing the ability to be stunning, while also lethal. Winters were dangerous, silent killers that left corpses in their wake and no amount of lupine or paintbrushes, glacier fed lakes or springtime moose calves could make up for the hell that winter wrought. Winter brings most living things to the knife’s edge of survival, forcing most to bow beneath the weight of its fury, backs breaking with the burden of just existing in an environment that truly acts, and feels, inhospitable. 

Although, there are those who do more than survive the cold, violent stretch of winter.

There are predators who thrive. 

“You closin’?” Your coworker, the new one, asks from where she’s settled across the dark wood bar, two amber Budweiser bottles empty in front her idle hands, eyes wandering to guys posted up by the loneliest pool table in fifty square miles. 

“I am.” She casts the only window in the entire place a surreptitious glance, fingers peeling away at a label. It’s snowing, has been for hours, flakes fat and wet, fluffy enough that the density of the snow on the ground is light, but dangerous, as it hides the real risk underneath; packed snow sitting with a slick sheen of ice on top. 

“You still trying to make it over Fall River pass tonight?” You nod. 

“Yeah. Supposed to see my brother and his new place this weekend.” 

“Fall River? Is that even open right now?” Andy, a regular who lives a few streets over from you, chimes in, twisting an empty rocks glass in his fist. You pull the bottle of Jameson from the rail and tip it vertical, honey brown liquid sloshing like a wave until his glass is halfway full, and he gives you a flirty kind of smile, the same one he’s been giving you for a year now. Yeeesh.

“It is. I could go around, but it just takes too long. And it’s Friday. I’m not trying to be stuck on the highway with weekend traffic.” You complain, and they both commiserate your opinion. The traffic is brutal, especially in the winter. Driving in hazardous conditions is considered to be a talent more than an innate ability here, and people often overestimate their aptitude for it, causing crashes and delays that get the highway shut down for hours, or even days, at times. You shrug. “I’ve had my snow tires on for weeks. Might as well get some use out of them.” Andy snorts. 

“Like you haven’t been gettin’ good use out of them? First real snow was before Halloween this year.” You nod. He’s not wrong. You did get dumped on two weeks before the end of October, twenty-three inches piling up within two days, before half the area was even ready for it. You throw him a polite smile, one that you hope reads like ‘okay thanks for the concern, we’re done now’ and he sighs. “Well, drive safe.” 

Fall River pass, it turns out, is not open. It’s closed by the time you split off from the interstate and start the windy, switch-backed trek in your jeep, flashing orange and yellow lights dotting the top of a barricade just barely visible through the speckled snow flying by in your headlights. 

Fuck. You could have sworn the DOT website said it was open. You take a deep breath, quelling the anxiety that roils your stomach. Okay. Not the end of the world. There’s another road. A less maintained option, but… you’ll be fine. You’ve driven in worse. 

The other road, a sharp, narrow, desolate path that cuts through a large swath of unmanaged forest just outside the national park, is easy at first. You’ve been driving the same jeep for years, a 2007 two door Wrangler, and you know how it handles like the back of your hand. With snow tires, it could pretty much cut through anything, even unplowed, fire watch roads like this one. 

Which is why, after the first few miles, your nerves fully settle, and you allow yourself to relax a little bit behind the wheel, easing the jeep across the dips and slicks in the road as you cautiously build speed, snow falling fast through night, growing thicker the higher you travel into wilderness territory, and the farther you left modern civilization behind. 

An hour creeps by, and then two. Long enough that you’ve now realized you’re the only one using this road, fresh snow blanketing the woods around you, topography and vegetation starting to change as you encroach on what you assume must be eleven thousand feet. You’ve seen this road on google maps once, or twice maybe, having noted it for future travel just in case of a situation like this. It runs perpendicular to Fall River, and eventually meets another, one that must be similar, on the other side of the range. The secondary road is one that takes you along the ridge, and then down, you’re pretty sure, although you can’t be one hundred percent certain, because you lost cell reception before you even turned off from Fall River.

Still, won’t hurt to check and see if you have this area downloaded. 

You pull your phone from the center console, thumbing at the screen, allowing your eyes to linger too long without looking back up through the windshield. No one else is out here. It’s not like you need to worry about oncoming traffic. The little SOS insignia blinks at the top corner, and you tap on the map icon, hoping it will bring up your geo location so you can glance at the satellite image of the area. 

You’re so fixated watching the little circle of death try to load, that by the time you look up and see the tree laying across the road, it’s far too late. You do the first thing you were always taught not to do in winter conditions, and slam on the brake, shoving the pedal to floor, heart rate sky rocketing as you panic and lose total control of the jeep. You spin, shoulders and chest jamming against the seatbelt, headlights flashing off into the woods, illuminating an endlessly dark web of trees, bark and branch scratching across the paint as you careen off the road, tipping too precariously onto two wheels and then rolling. 

Time, your life, stands completely still for a moment. You see every individual fiber of the pine needles, every uniquely designed snowflake, every single droplet of blood that floats away from your face and through midair as you crash through the forest, your grasp on consciousness slipping farther and farther away, the jeep finally coming to a stop on its side, your head cracked against the driver’s window, stars and streaks spawning out across your vision, headlights finally blinking out completely, leaving you alone in the dark. Your head spins like you’re still rolling, and the only sound in the dead silent snow is your harsh breathing, frantic terror bubbling up through your throat as pain surges through your body. 

It's freezing, but you feel surprisingly warm. 

You’re going to die out here. No one knows you took this road, you don’t have service, by the time they find you, it’ll be too late. You’ll be a bled out, frozen corpse, long gone and- 

You lose your train of thought quickly. Everything starts to fracture, fissures forming in your consciousness, part of you already losing the battle to the inevitable, darkness pulling over your eyes like a knit hat, lungs heaving just a little harder with each breath. 

You could just close your eyes. Just for a moment. 

Light sweeps across the ground, flashing across your face. You think, if you were truly with it, in your right mind, you’d think it was too bright. You’d say it was blinding. 

But you can’t formulate anything of the sort, mind too busy slipping away, falling into an inky black depth, just barely on the verge when you feel a gloved hand on your skin, the lilt of an accent on the wind. 

Sleep. 

You’re drifting. Falling through a stardusted, molasses filled haze, your mind ebbs and flows with consciousness; soft and warm feelings contrasted with sharp pain that bites through your body as if it’s slowly trying to eat you, chipping away piece by piece.

There are words, voices. There are hands too, fingers walking across your skin, limbs being moved, arranged, always with pain that’s followed by a hushed whisper of apology, a confusing sentiment in the dark. Your eyes won’t open. Your mouth won’t work. Your head is stuffed with cotton, wispy strands of connections that can’t quite get there, scrounging along the walls of your skull, trying to meet in the middle. You’re drowning, sinking to the bottom of a macabre pool, the one that’s infected your synapses and kept you just inside the shelter of delirium.

You try to call for help, but you can’t.

You try to swim to the surface, but the grisly black of your mind is never ending.

You’re dying, the tiny sliver of rational thought assures. Or you’re already dead.

Despair swells, and if you could feel your face, you’d think you were crying, lost to the sweeping desolation of your pain. It steals your breathe. Your sense. Everything becomes secondary to the obliterating agony that you feel. 

Something touches your cheek. Your eyes fight to open, straining against the heaviness that weighs on them, just barely blinking wide enough to let some light in, your vision fuzzily trying to focus.

Wood beams come into view. A ceiling? Where-

You try to turn your head but an electric shock rattles through your brain, forcing you to slam your eyes shut again, world spinning on an uneven axis as something on the edge of your sight shifts. A monster. A man?

Something is said, whispered, and then everything fades away, your mind and body slipping beneath the waves of darkness.

The next time you surface, you manage to cling to consciousness long enough to take stock of your surroundings, realizing you’re tucked into a soft, warm bed almost immediately, something hot near your feet, pillows fluffed beneath you. A hand stitched quilt is spread across the top of copious other blankets and sheets, and your fingertips scratch against the fabric. Flannel.

You’re also awake long enough to truly experience the pain you’re in.

One thousand tiny knives rattle around in your skull, slicing into the soft matter of your brain, tearing you apart piece by piece, everything in you unmoored and off balance. Searing pain radiates up your leg, through your arm and wrist to your head and neck, and when your instinct urges you to try to move, your body screams in protest, the pain so intense that you cry out.

That’s when you see him.

A man steps towards you from the edge of your peripheral, and you freeze in terror.

“Shhh. We’re not goin’ hurt ye. Ye had a terrible accident. Pure luck we found ye when we did, dove. Ye would’ve died out there.” He coos in an accent, inching closer, and you manage to get a better look at him, recognition failing immediately. An accident? An accident… memories come flooding back, broken clips of the jeep spinning, rolling, the woods, the fear. Who is he? Where are you? Brilliant blue eyes look down at you with concern, handsome face tweaked into worry, furrow in his brow partially covered by the long strands of an overgrown mohawk. He’s pretty. “Can ye follow my finger?” He presents one in front of your nose, but it splits into two, and then three, just the attempt to focus enough to make your head throb, and a whimper escapes from your throat. “I know, I know.” There’s a ceramic mug in his hand, and he carefully lifts it to your lips, encouraging you as he tips it back, warm, sweet liquid washing down your throat. You can’t even move your arms to push him away, and when he seems to be satisfied, his thumb wipes the corner of your mouth. “Good love. Well done.” You feel woozy all of the sudden, maybe even a little nauseous, and you think you could be hallucinating when another man appears at the foot of the bed, handsome, but in a rugged way, watching you with honeyed brown eyes, the broadest, biggest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Those bones need setting.” He says, and the pretty one grimaces, fingertips trailing along your cheek.

“Maybe tomorrow. I’m still worried about the concussion.” His thumb cards across your brow.

“It’s been three days, Johnny. Can’t put it off too much longer.” Three days? Your brain latches onto the time. Three days of what? Since when? You’re starting to fade, trying to focus on what they’re saying but losing the battle horrendously when the blankets shift, warmth tucking down around your waist and shoulders, unable to react or even speak when they both press a kiss to your forehead, affectionate and longing touch that startles you until you’re losing the battle to sleep.

It's snowing.

You don’t have to see to know. There’s something about how it hangs in the air, how the world sounds during a snowfall that blankets everything: houses, trees, mountains… your mind.

You love the snow. Even as a child, winter was your favorite. Winter brought you a sense of calm, of peace. It’s what brought you back here, kept you here, even amidst the perils. The feeling of a forest, lying still beneath the soft spun expanse of white, the crisp smell of the air the morning of a big snow, the eternal quiet that exists in the night when everything is dampened by the weight of a million, billion, uniquely crystalized webs of frozen water.

This snow feels different. It doesn’t feel like a velvety white, candy-coated dream world; but a nightmare… one filled with pain, anxiety. Where are you? What’s happened? 

And why do you hurt so fucking bad? 

“You’re awake.” A deep voice says from your side, and you flinch on instinct, immediately wishing you hadn’t as lightning sharp pain zings through you, your voice breaking with a cry. “Easy.” He cautions, and your head stops swimming long enough for you to realize it’s the brown eyed man, the bigger one. He’s sitting in a chair that looks far too small for his width, watching you with an intensity that makes you feel exposed.

“Where… am I?” You manage to choke out through stiff lips, your head spinning and the world tilting at the same time. It sours your stomach, more than you thought possible, and you try to swallow the burn of bile that’s racing up your throat.

“Are you going to be sick?” He strokes your face, the touch nearly sweet, but confusing, and you hold your tongue, unsure. He sighs, expression shifting into disapproval, and then a frown. “Tell me.”

“N-no, I don’t-“ You can’t even finish your denial before your stomach is heaving and he’s springing into action, shifting you onto your side where a clean bucket sits right next to the bed. You wail in misery, pain shooting through your leg and arm, your ribs, bile and spit leaking from your mouth.

“It’s alright, that’s it.” A hand soothes up and down your back as you dry heave, sputtering on nothing, tears dripping to the wooden floorboards with a splash.

“Nnrgh-“

“I know, I know. Poor thing.” He coos, and it sounds… endearing, so sweet yet… frightening, like the poison of a predatory, a pretty display meant to draw you in before it snaps a set of jaws shut around your face.

Somewhere, nestled inside the last shards of your sanity, an alarm bell whistles, but the intensity of your pain quickly drowns it out, and you cry aloud.

“Hurts.” He rolls you back to your original position, arranging you like a doll. “It hurts.”

“I know it does, sweet girl, I know. We’re going to fix it.” A cloth dabs at your forehead and then down to clean your mouth, just as the man with the mohawk appears on the bed, one knee down, leaning over you, worry rife in his features.

“Poor baby. Were ye sick again?” Again? You blink up at him. What is going on? He presses a glass to your lips, urging you to drink, and then pulling it away after you’ve had a few sips with a gentle “not too much.”

“Who are you?” The water is cold, refreshing, but a ting acidic, and you wonder if it’s well water, maybe?

“I’m Johnny.” He’s setting up something beside you, organizing it, but you can’t turn your head to look, and can’t quite catch it from your peripheral. “An’ this is Simon. Or Si, but ye probably willnae be callin’ him that quite yet.” Quite yet? What? Did they find you? Did they rescue you? Why can’t you remember? 

“What happened.” You try again, gritting your teeth.

“Ye had an accident, remember? We talked about it yesterday. Ye rolled off the road, ended up nearly down the mountain, in the thick of the trees. Ye’re lucky the one didnae impale ye.” Impale?

“And you found me?” You're starting to feel tired again, all the sudden, woozy and weird, exhaustion pulling at your limbs. Shouldn't you be in a hospital? Why haven't they taken you to a doctor?

“Aye, we did. Pulled ye out, brought ye home.” Home?

“You don’t have to worry.” Simon, the bigger one, tells you. “We’re going to take care of you.” Take care of who? Everything is foggy, clouded, and you try to shake your head in confusion.

“I don’t… why-“

“Storm is pretty bad. One of those, once in a lifetime types. Pass is closed.” You close your eyes. Of course. The pass is closed. You guess you’re lucky. They could have left you to die, and you could have never been found. You could have frozen to death. Bled out.

“Thank… thank you.” Johnny hums, and then you ripple in shock as he leans forward and brushes his lips against your mouth in a kiss. This… this is not normal? Are Scottish people just… more affectionate? 

“Want ye to know, if we didnae have to do this, we woudnae.” What?

“Do what?” Simon casts you a mournful glance, rising from the chair. He’s got piece of leather in his hand, like a cut from a belt, and your eyes dart between them, fear freezing solid inside your pores. Do what?

“Bite down on this, precious.” Simon instructs, placing the swatch against your bottom lip, and you jerk away in protest, pain burning through your body.

“Do what?” You try to sound strong, demanding, but it comes out a little less than timid, and he gives you a sad smile.

“Your femur is broken.” A warm hand rests on your leg, over the covers, and you try to click the pieces together. “And I suspect your radius is, too. We need to set them.”

Oh. Oh no. 

“N-no, no, you… you ca-can’t.” You stutter. They can’t. A doctor should be doing that, shouldn’t they? Johnny hovers over you, placing his palm on your belly, stroking upwards to the middle of your chest, the other holding firm across your collarbone. His touch is gentle, but strong, and his thumb rubs in a cautious motion against your skin, lightly grazing the underside of your breast. It feels weird, and wrong… intimate in a way that makes you shiver. “Please. Please, please… don’t-“

“It’s alright.” He shushes you, and the pressure increases against your body as Simon wedges a thick finger between your teeth, slipping the worn leather in your mouth, bracing around your wrist, his other hand holding your elbow. You gasp for air, adrenaline fueled by pain and fear coursing through you, and Johnny coos, telling you ye’ll be alright, that ye’re with them now, and they’ll take such good care of ye. 

“Take a deep breath.” Simon urges, and you stare at him, wide eyed, pulse thundering in your ears.

“Ye’ll probably pass out, bonnie. We’ll get the second one done while ye’re down, and I already gave ye somethin’ for the pain.” He assures, like it’s supposed to relieve you, and your nostrils flare as something tightens against your arm. Simon’s grip. 

This can’t be happening. This has to be a nightmare. How can this happen? No, nononono-

There’s a crack. A crunch. Burning, obliterating torture rockets up your arm, exploding inside you like a shot. You scream and bite down at the same time, raw misery trying to claw it’s way out of your throat. You think you’re crying, hallucinating from the pain, having a heart attack, fucking dying, all at once. It hurts, it hurts so bad, stop, please-

“We’re sorry, we’re sorry.” Simon soothes, thumb wiping your cheek, but you can hardly hear him, your brain starting to sever itself from reality, floating away as you slip inside the dark tomb of your mind, losing yourself to the fog as they both stare down at you, sickeningly saccharine concern layered overtop the faces of wolves, predators licking their maws in preparation for a meal.

You sleep and wake in a haze.

You sleep. Your dreams are torments, visions of being chased through the mountains by monsters, being pinned to the ground, teeth tearing into your throat with no preamble, or nightmares of drowning, being swallowed by the ocean, lungs sputtering with concrete laden sea water.

You wake. Your vision blurs, mind scrambled by pain, vaguely aware of being moved, carried to the bathroom, held upright over a toilet, gentle touch soothing up and down your back, heavy palm cupping curve of your skull when your head is tipped back and something is dribbled past your lips. You blink blearily with stone weighted lids, taking in the room bit by bit, the wrought iron bed frame, crackling flames sparking in a fireplace, mountain of pillows sagging with the imprint of your body. Your limbs are wrapped and unwrapped, immobilized, and shifted, and the pain is enough to make you gasp for air, tipping you over into the decaying depths of unconsciousness again and again.

You sleep. Restless, chilled. Ice spreads from the nerves in the tip of your nose to your brain, your fingers, and you try to burrow it deeper, seeking the comfort of the pillows, but finding warm skin and muscle instead. In your sleep, it’s lovely. It’s comforting. Even when you’re rolled to your side, something sticking under your tongue, you chase the heady thick heat that seems to roll off the limbs around you.

You wake. There are voices, deep and rumbling, bouncing through the room. Warm water dabbing down your neck, your belly, your legs. You’re too hot, uncomfortable and smothered until you hear a sharp pitched snarl accompanied by a yank, and then there’s a void of emptiness around you.

You sleep.

You wake. The pain starts to change, melting into something that’s consistent, throbbing, but a little less sharp, unless you move, and then it shrieks through your nerves like an electrical shock, vibrating your jaw shut.

You sleep.

You wake. They’re there. Simon is dabbing a cool washcloth across your forehead. You try to flex away on instinct, but firm hands stop you, holding you in place.

“Hey there, dove.” Johnny whispers, smiling. It’s a shy kind of smile, sweet, and the world spins. You grapple with reality, trying to remind yourself where you are, what happened. The fire snaps and pops behind Simon, who stands at his side, massive hand on his shoulder. “Made ye some breakfast. Think ye can eat somethin’?” Breakfast? A steaming bowl of oats sits cradled in his hand, spoon at the ready. Nausea roars, enflamed by the pain in your bones, and you shake your head. “Ye need to eat. Been givin’ ye soup for the past few days, but ye need more carbs.”

“I- I don’t understand.” You try to explain your confusion, hundreds of questions brewing on your tongue, trying to spill out.

“You’ve been in and out consciousness for the last week.” Simon explains, and your eyes widen.

“What?” Panic knots, twisting you up tight, heart fluttering in your chest.

“We had to sedate you. Needed to keep you still through the first part of the healing process.”

“You… you drugged me?” You stammer, and Simon smiles, but it’s not sweet like Johnny’s. It’s severe. It’s dangerous.

“Soft calluses form around fractures, after they’ve been set.” He sits down on the other side of the bed, across your hips from Johnny. “Your breaks aren’t in casts, so we needed to minimize your movement until the calluses could strengthen.”

“Ye willnae be able to walk on the leg, or lift anything with that arm, but we’ll help ye.” Johnny assures. “We’ll be here for ye, as ye get better.” The words don’t compute, and you look at both of their faces, sweeping back and forth, blue eyes to brown, brown to blue, until the only thing that you can think of blurts out of your mouth:

“Where’s my phone?” There’s a flash of discontent in Johnny’s features, but it’s quickly smoothed away, and you wonder if it even there in the first place.

“I imagine it’s somewhere near where your jeep rolled. We weren’t exactly concerned with finding it, considering we were trying to save your life.” Simon’s hands flex in the sheets, and then relax, serious look on his face, and guilt swamps you. Right. They saved your life. You could have died. And the pass is closed. Maybe this is all… as normal as it can be, given the situation. Calm down. 

Still… 

Didn’t Johnny kiss you? 

The spoon clinks against the bowl, jolting you back to the moment, eyeing the scoop of oats as it drifts closer to your mouth, lips parting on instinct.

The first bite is difficult, an insipid, unsavory lump sliding down into your stomach, toothy grin stretching across Johnny’s face as you swallow. The second bite is easier. So is the third, and you manage a few more after that until you start to feel wooly, head fuzzy and stomach sick. “I can’t.” You bleat, and he nods sympathetically.

“Alright, ye did good.” Sleep tugs, insistent again, strong surge of fog pulling at your eyes, and you yawn.

“Tired?” Simon’s already moving, hovering, patiently adjusting your pillows and lazily urging you into them. “You should rest.” You’re too weak, too miserable to argue, so you let yourself fade to black, easily falling back into the webbed slush of sleep.

You drift in and out for days after that. A bright spot of consciousness here and there before it dissipates and you fall into oblivion, and you find yourself embracing it as often as possible, trying to escape into yourself, away from wooden beams and potential predators that flank you.

You’re content to let it stay that way, hiding away behind closed lids for as long as possible, until the morning you feel the washcloth.

“Sh-sh-shhh.” Johnny hums when you garble out a distressed question, tipping a glass to your mouth. Cold liquid rushes across your tongue, and you have no choice but to swallow, confusion webbing across your thoughts. Simon has the blankets pulled away, chilled air nipping and your skin, and you moan. It’s strange, like you’re exposed, half floating like you’re high, and half spiraling through your pain.

“It’s okay, we’ve got you.” They’re repositioning you, arms and legs like a little doll, and you frown. “Jus’ need to get you clean.” Clean? The washcloth coasts across your neck and down to your chest, warm water soaking a trail down your breasts. You’re naked, fully, a hot palm against your hip, skin on skin contact registering as you blink fuzzily, watching the way Johnny focuses on you, concentration shining in his stunning blue eyes.

Water sloshes. Squeezing and dripping, and then the warm, nearly hot cloth is being pressed against you, stroking over your nipples, washing the underside of your breasts. It feels nice, and you whine a little when it pulls away. Simon chuckles.

“Do ye like that?” Johnny coos, reapplying the cloth to your belly. “Does that feel good?” Does it? Is it supposed to? Your vision doubles then realigns, and you stare at the underside of Simon’s jaw, mesmerized by the scar on his chin, the width of his neck. He readjusts you, again, slowly moving your knees apart, spreading your legs, and heat climbs through your bones to your cheeks.

You’re naked. They’re fully clothed. 

“We’re goin’ clean this up a bit.” Simon murmurs, a thick finger tracing along your slit, through the soft curls between your legs, and you balk. Clean what? How?

“My… my-“ you can’t even get the words out, too embarrassed, and he nods, sliver flash of a razor twinkling in his hand. The air in your chest sputters.

“Your hair.” Johnny works the washcloth back and forth, water dripping down your skin to the towel that’s been placed under your hips, you can only lay there in mortification when you feel yourself getting wet, tepid arousal roaring to life between your legs. “If you’re a good girl for us,” Simon continues, spraying a big glob of shaving cream into Johnny’s palm, “we’ll give you a treat afterwards. How’s that sound?”

“A treat?”  You squeak, and then whimper, Johnny’s fingers creeping down your slit, rubbing the cream across your pubis and labia, heel brushing against your clit. You make a noise of a protest, but it falls on deaf ears.

“Ye’re alright.” He coos, bumping against the swollen bud again, and you try to stop the moan that builds in your chest with no success, slamming your eyes shut and trying to disappear into the pillows. “It’s natural, dove. Ye dinnae need to feel embarrassed.” He leans forward, slotting his mouth against yours, lips soft and fragrant in a pillowy sweet kiss that lasts too long, his eyes blissfully closed in front of your almost crossed ones. 

“Please…” you whisper, but you’re not sure what you’re asking for, and Johnny coos at you, bending at the waist to get a better vantage point between your legs. You shake your head, eyes wide with disbelief, with fear, your mind trying to catch up, trying to rationalize what’s happening at the same time as your body is betraying you, slicking the cream that’s lathered between your thighs, clit pulsing with desperate need.

“I- I don’t want you to… shave me.” You whisper. You don’t want them to touch you… there, and the panic that’s pulsing between your ears continues to rise as your protests go unnoticed. Just saying it out loud makes you want to die of embarrassment, and Simon clucks.

“We have to take care of you, sweet girl.” Simon grips your thigh, fingers pressing into flesh, and the cool blade of the razor moves against the grain with a flick of his wrist, drawing back to a bucket for a rinse before a repeat, breath frozen in your chest as he slowly eliminates the curls of your pubic hair. “It will be easier to do that, to see what you need without all this.” He hums, the smile of a wolf coy on his face. “Stay nice and still for us.” They work in tandem, perfectly synchronized, and your unwanted arousal starts to overpower the pain that’s radiating from your broken bones. It’s been so, so long since you’ve been touched by anyone, and your body does not care that you didn’t want this, or agree to it, too eager to be satisfied, to be touched in anyway it can get, and it gets worse, more intense the longer it goes on, the precise movements of their hands, the slow and methodical approach to your cunt. “Almost done.” Simon tells you, and the side of his finger passes over your clit unintentionally, and you whine. “I know, I know. You’re bein’ so good. Such a good girl.” Your good hand is shaking, gripping the sheets, and when he finishes, Johnny wipes you down with a clean cloth, passing over your clit again and again, electric shocks sparking in your belly. You’re paralyzed, helpless, and yet… soaked. Desperate. The warring emotions tear at you, shame and fear and desire rendering you speechless.

“I think ye need some relief, dove.” Johnny hums, looking from your pussy to Simon, both of them tilting their heads to stare between your legs. “Poor thing is so swollen, Si.”

“Do you want to touch her, Johnny? Give her a reward?” Simon asks him, so sweetly, and Johnny shimmies down to be eye level with your pussy, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

Half of you screams no. Half of you shouts yes.

All you can do is watch, helplessly, as they settle themselves between your legs, Simon over Johnny’s shoulder, tempering his frenzied excitement with assured patience. 

“Will ye show me how?” He’s eager, and you frown, confused.

“Johnny’s never made a girl come before,” Simon tells you gently. “You’ll be his first.” Oh my god. “Will you help him? Tell him what feels good?” Your brain melts. You don’t know what to say, mouth half open, staring at the both of them, and after a few seconds, Simon sighs like he’s exasperated with you, before ducking back down next to Johnny and murmuring softly to him, probing along your cunt, finger dipping into your hole, swirling in the wetness gathered there and then moving up to your slit. You gasp, eyes nearly rolling back in your head.

“She likes that.” Johnny groans, breath blowing over your exposed flesh, and Simon takes his hand, thumb over thumb, guiding him in small circles around your clit.

 “Nice an’ slow at first, when you’re rubbin’ her clit. Feel how hard it is?” He instructs, pressing a kiss to the side of Johnny’s head, and he nods enthusiastically, looking up at Simon with wide, puppy dog eyes, sappy and saturated with love. It’s sweet, and affectionate, like they’re the only ones in the room, in the world… and you’re intruding on a private moment between these two men and your body. Like you’re a bystander. Or a doll. It’s confusing, your brain trying to sort everything that’s happening into neat little boxes that keep overflowing or falling apart, fracturing under the weight of your helplessness, the shock and fear that’s nearly made you dizzy. “See how her little hole is clenchin’ like that? It’s ‘cause she’s empty, needs to be filled up. When she comes, she’ll get real tight.” He explains, your body enflaming in mortified heat. They’re pushing you closer and closer to an orgasm, and Simon increases the speed as your hips jolt.

“Fuck.” You hiss.

“That’s it.” Simon coaches. “Are you close, sweet girl? Gonna come for us?” You shake your head, but even if you wanted to close your legs, you couldn’t. You’re trapped, lost in a sea of wild waves that break directly over your head, one after another until you’re drowning, gasping, muscles so tight they burn, pain in your arm and leg a secondary concern behind the pressure in your belly, the zap of your clit as they drag you too easily to the bottom, before sending you breaking through the surface.

You come with a distressed moan, hips jerking, and then a raspy plea for them to stop, telling them it’s too much, you’re too sensitive, to which Simon wraps his hand around Johnny’s wrist and pulls his hand away.

“We can’t overwhelm her just yet. Gotta wait until she’s healed up, hm?” He murmurs, reaching for the cloth. You blink at the ceiling, drifting, floating away, little boxes in your mind broken up into gnarled pieces that don’t make sense.

What just happened?

You stay silent, blank, as they settle you, cloth cleaning between your legs, blankets being fussed with around your body, pillows plumped. Simon curls some of your unruly hair behind your ear, swooping down until the breadth of his body blocks out all the light in the room, lips brushing over your ear. “What a good girl you are, dove. Did so well, letting Johnny give you an orgasm. So sweet for him.” He tucks you in a little tighter, and Johnny ducks around him, kissing you gently, like you’re made of glass, thrilled smile tugging at his cheeks, unfettered joy the last thing you see before your eyes slip shut.

The next time you wake, Johnny is in bed with you. It’s dark, a flickering orange glow casting shadow across the room, and you startle at the weight of his arm stretched across your chest, cradling you close, half curled around you like a cat. You turn, face to face, his mouth slightly agape, breath blowing over your cheek. You can’t get enough leverage on one leg to slide out from under him, and when you squirm, he only tightens his grip, pinning you to the bed. You’re overheated, and when you peek over his shoulder to get a look at the fire, you see Simon instead, sitting upright in a chair, fully awake, watching you. White hot fear shocks your system, forcing your eyes down in disbelief, surprise, his chair creaking in the night. Your breath stops in your chest, and then there’s a hand smoothing over your forehead, as he leans past you to brush his lips against Johnny’s, and then rough stubble presses against your cheek with a jagged whisper.

“Sweet dreams, little dove.”

[calliesmemes]

PINTEREST QUOTES WITH POTENTIAL

ASSORTED SENTENCE STARTERS pulled from various quotations I have seen on Pinterest while creating boards for my muses.

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

❛ Who’s a heretic now? ❜

❛ If I stay here, trouble will find me. ❜

❛ What’s it like to be so free? ❜

❛ I watched the whole world fall apart. ❜

❛ I am teaching myself how to be free. ❜

❛ The only solution is to stand and fight. ❜

❛ There’s something tragic about you. ❜

❛ You were never a saint. ❜

❛ To be a woman is to perform. ❜

❛ l speak in verses, prophecies, and curses. ❜

❛ Now I know what I was born for. ❜

❛ There’s a light in all of us, trying to get free. ❜

❛ There is nobody innocent here. ❜

❛ Look who’s digging their own grave. ❜

❛ Come a little closer, if you dare. ❜

❛ Family defines you, even if it demands sacrifice. ❜

❛ History does strange things to dead women. ❜

❛ I can’t believe the things I’ve done. ❜

❛ Hubris is a bitch. ❜

❛ It’s all in your head. ❜

❛ I keep my visions to myself. ❜

❛ We could be heroes. ❜

❛ Take my hand, and I’ll protect you. ❜

❛ Open your eyes. This is the revolution. ❜

❛ I am so much more than they told me I was. ❜

❛ Let me be your muse. ❜

❛ I’m not just a pretty girl. ❜

❛ Your fear of looking stupid is holding you back. ❜

❛ I wish I could be the perfect daughter. ❜

❛ I am not who I was before. ❜

❛ I won’t just be a puppet on a string. ❜

❛ If I can still breathe, I’m fine. ❜

❛ Straighten up, little soldier. ❜

❛ Am I a monster, or a victim myself? ❜

❛ This isn’t the way normal people live. ❜

❛ Your impression of me is wrong. ❜

❛ I wish I could let all this anger go. ❜

❛ I wasn’t born to be soft and quiet. ❜

❛ If I hadn’t fallen, I wouldn’t have met you. ❜

❛ Maybe there’s a hero in me after all. ❜

❛ I am happy anywhere that I can see the ocean. ❜

❛ They should be terrified of you. ❜

❛ I have seen the future. ❜

❛ Let go of the illusion that it could’ve been different. ❜

❛ My father is a good man. ❜

❛ I went to war with myself for you. ❜

❛ I care too much in a world that cares too little. ❜

❛ If it makes you happy, then it’s not a waste of time. ❜

❛ Speak your mind, even if your voice shakes. ❜

❛ You make everyone around you feel seen. ❜

❛ If you feel nothing, then why are you shaking? ❜

❛ Let’s run somewhere far away. ❜

❛ You carry your last name like a burden. ❜

❛ You are at war, even in your dreams. ❜

❛ We met for a reason. ❜

❛ I designed my own catastrophe. ❜

❛ You and I are the same thing. ❜

❛ Never let another soul tell you what to fear. ❜

❛ I have always loved the sea. ❜

❛ I didn’t say I liked it — I said that it fascinated me. ❜

❛ You will never be forgiven. ❜

❛ No one ever really dies. ❜

❛ Your son is gone. ❜

❛ Death must exist for life to have meaning. ❜

❛ Your mouth is full of white lies. ❜

❛ Loving me is a death sentence. ❜

❛ There is a thunderstorm inside of you. ❜

❛ Beauty is a weapon. ❜

❛ You haven’t even seen my bad side yet. ❜

❛ How do I stop the guilt? ❜

❛ I am a victim of introspection. ❜

❛ Love is what gives me strength to survive. ❜

❛ There is nobody innocent here. ❜

❛ You’ve seen too much too young. ❜

❛ I am not of mortal men. ❜

❛ Tell me what it’s like to conquer. ❜

❛ I like who I’m becoming. A lot. ❜

❛ I don’t believe in promises anymore. ❜

❛ Parents kill more dreams than anybody. ❜

❛ You are woven into my veins. ❜

❛ You are a diamond. They can’t break you. ❜

❛ I must not hope. I must not cry. ❜

❛ It’s no wonder that you can’t sleep — you’re haunted. ❜

❛ You are made of destructive magic. ❜

❛ You are so unique. ❜

❛ I myself am a haunted house. ❜

❛ You comfort others with the words you want to hear. ❜

❛ You’ll find love, kid. It exists. ❜

❛ You talk like a book. ❜

❛ You are one of God’s few mistakes. ❜

❛ I’m not capable of saving you. ❜

❛ Curiosity often leads to trouble. ❜

❛ I have crossed oceans of time to find you. ❜

❛ I can do this. Even if I can’t, I have to. ❜

❛ I can’t go back there! ❜

❛ Forests have secrets. It’s practically what they’re for. ❜

❛ Can you remember who you were? ❜

❛ Are you proud of who you have become? ❜

❛ I see in you an old soul with young eyes. ❜

[rise-my-angel]

Haunted Anguish

Credit: @a7estrellas

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Length: 15.3k

Warnings: Angst/hurt comfort, trauma related mental instability, mentions of blood, accidental self harm, nightmares and sleep paralysis, smut, outdoor smut, p in v, sex as a coping mechanism

Notes: Ptsd is not mentioned by name or diagnoses, but presentation of symptoms is a theme throughout the fic. Direct follow up to Past Retribution but can be read as a standalone.

The week after the bite, you knew you were losing yourself, and you weren’t stupid enough to think Joel hadn’t picked up on it. But you struggled to stop any of it. The metallic flick was the only thing you could focus on. Not the sounds of people walking around, not the conversations that passed you by, not even the quiet shuffling of the horses mere feet from you. 

It was hard to pinpoint this feeling that had been growing for days. It wasn’t like your brain was lost in a fog, the total opposite. It felt like you walked through a world that blurred around you. Mute and numb to your existence despite the truth being otherwise. There was a growing heaviness in your chest that each day filled just a bit more with a disgusting guilt and the past 2 days your hands kept pulling out the lighter as if it possessed you to do so. 

Maybe if Joel hadn’t grabbed it would this feeling disappear? He had seen what you had done, what you had tried to do, he must had assumed it belonged to you, and now it sat in your pocket at almost all times screaming at you along with the bite that loomed over it all. 

You wanted to blame him because it was an easy out, an excuse as to why you carried a burden with you. But it wasn’t Joel’s fault and you knew that, and the lighter wasn’t the problem. It was the memories it held from that day that haunted you, and those weren’t so easily gotten rid of. 

There was a small wooden bench pressed up against the corner maroon coloured wall, a small square room protruding from the edge where supplies could be stored allowing you to sit with your back against it and legs stretched out, one knee bent up where your arm rested on. You had been there for quite a while, your tasks for the day long completed yet you sat there. 

On and off you occasionally flicked the lighter so the flame appeared, and you felt lost in it, the heat ever so slightly trying to burn your fingers the longer you let it stay lit. The muffled world simmered down to a silence before a clang of metal snapped you out of it. The sliding doors felt loud as you could see Joel’s figure make it’s way into the room. 

At first he leaned his hand against one of the doors with the other on his hip, the sunlight shining behind him shrouding his features in as slight shadow, but his voice was as clear as can be. “You coming back anytime soon, or do you want me to bring you a sleeping bag?” The grin in his voice was audible and any other time you would have let out some sort of a laugh. 

But all you did was watch the flame for a second to long, Joel calling your name in a louder tone until you snapped your head up to him properly, hand slamming the lighter shut. Almost as if you didn’t really hear him you just raised your eyebrow in question. 

“I said, are you ready to head home.” Pushing off of the entrance door, Joel took slow steps into the room, eyes narrowed as he looked you over in an expression you couldn’t quite pick up on. “I feel like I’ve barley seen you the past couple days.” 

The one arm resting on your knee pressed down onto it harder as your fingers tightened around the lighter while the other dig into the fabric of your pants until you could feel the stinging pressure. You shook your head slightly and swing your legs over to put your feet down. “Sorry, yeah, I’m done for the day.” 

“Hey, easy there.” Joel suddenly had you in his hold as he forced you to stand up slower. “The last thing we want is to redo your stitches 3 days in a row.” The sternness of his voice felt like condescension. You were just an inconvenience, needing him to redo them every time you ripped them open carelessly all beacuse you couldn’t reach the angle to stitch yourself back up. 

Swiftly you tried to pull your arms from his grasp, not quite meeting his eye. “I got it.” 

“Do you?” Joel has stopped your pulling away with a firm hold on your upper arms, body slightly bent to look at you closer. If you didn’t feel the way you did, you would have known Joel’s tone wasn’t what you interpreted it as. To him, it was concern. The first day after he and Ellie brought you home you were fine it seemed, but the next day it was like you suddenly were trapped in a memory and the fact that you barley even registered the pain of ripping your stitches open only made him more assertive in checking on you. 

To you though, it felt like scolding. It felt just like the early days of knowing each other, that night when he yelled at you on the porch of his house in the pouring rain. Like a parent doubting a petulant child, the very thing you had previously worried he saw you as. 

Your eyes snapped up to him, a flash of not quite anger, but irritation swam in your eyes. “You wanna check?” Knocking one hand off of you, you brazenly lifted one edge of your shirt up to reveal the unsavoury sight of the healing wound in your side. New stitches in tact. 

Joel was silent for a beat, and it wasn’t just his tone that you didn’t grasp, it was also the concern plastered all over his face that you read as annoyance. “Good. They look better today.” He went to put a hand on your lower back to lead you out, but found himself hovering over you instead. 

His eyes looking to the side at you debating if you’d shake that off as well. Joel could tell what happened out there was boiling something up inside of you, but it was like you were shutting him out entirely day by day. He couldn’t get it out of you to talk to him, but he was also aware not to push you too hard or you’d likely go back to your own place for god knows how long. 

Ellie had pointed out that now he knew how annoying being pushed away was. Meant to poke fun at him, but both of them read her tone. She looked for you constantly, always throwing her head back and forth hoping to see you join them or come home and it was hurting her more than she admitted. Joel knew exactly how she felt. 

Your arms were crossed tucked protectively against your chest as you made your way home. The crunch of the gravel filling the air between you as the normally comfortable silence now felt stifling. Joel broke it first. “You know you can talk to me right?” 

The only response you gave was a nod, and he prompted again. “I just- keeping all that inside can’t be healthy. Trust me, sweetheart I’d know.” Sensing you weren’t at his side, Joel pivoted around to see you looking at him more harsh then he’s used to from you. 

“Keeping what inside me, exactly?” 

At this point you were near the main street, people all around as you posed an unfair question you knew he couldn’t answer here. “You know what.” 

Your face was firm and somewhat impassive. “Do I?” 

It wasn’t an anger Joel was feeling, but a frustration that he wasn’t sure how to help you. He wasn’t stupid, this had to do with what happened with Don, probably what happened all those years ago too. And not that he’d admit it, deep down he wondered if any of this had to do with your immunity as well. You had been left to be infected and die twice by the same man, both times you came out the other side alive. 

It weighed on Ellie too, but in a different way. She was young, Joel could protect and guide her through those feelings. But you weren’t, and he couldn’t force you too far. 

Your name slipped from his lips in warning, but still soft and close to your ear as he stepped into your personal space. “I’m not just going to let you fall down that rabbit hole.” His large hand encompassed your cheek, finally relieved that you didn’t move away form his warm touch. “That’s a place you don’t deserve to be.” 

You slid your gaze away from him, the feeling in your gut quickly flying back to guilt. Once again you just nodded in agreement. Raising your hand up to squeeze his wrist in affection with a smile that certainly didn’t make it to your eyes. 

But it was something, so you both left for home in relative calm. You weren’t that much more talkative throughout the evening. You could see Joel and Ellie threw you prompts to join the conversation, but answering with a proper sentence wasn’t common. “Just busy is all. Daisy’s just about ready to give birth so I got a lot on my hands.” 

Daisy was a particularly stubborn horse that was most attached to you. She gave most people a stink about everything unless it was you, and her ready to give birth only made her more aggressive about shoving anyone but you away. It did take a lot of your time, but all three of you knew it was just an excuse to be alone more often then not.   “I can help out with the others if you want to just focus on her?” 

The bright hopeful look on Ellie’s face was slightly heartwarming. She clearly was desperate to get closer to you know that you had something incredibly rare in common. So you tilted your head to the side in a little shrug. “Sure, don’t see why not.” 

It wasn’t lost on you that finding such a familial bond in Joel, settling somewhere that felt like home has opened her up to you. The very real possibility, that finding a life somewhere so normal and meeting another person just like her, has her yearning for something akin to a family. Not just a father, but did she really deserve to be dragged down your path?

You were slower than them picking at your food, often tapping the fork lightly against the plate as your eyes fell back into this strange feeling so incredibly hard to understand. At one point you could feel Joel’s hand gently caress you as he slid it along your shoulder blade, before coming up to bring the side of your head closer to him. Pressing his lips against your hair me mumbled into you, “We’re gonna talk later, okay?” 

Biting the inside of your cheek, you gave back the only affection you could summon. Squeezing the hand on your shoulder and leaning back slightly into his broad frame. He pressed one more smaller kiss into you, “I got you, sweetheart.” 

Joel always reminded you of that, but did you have him? Were you good enough to be here, or did your constant mistakes just pull them down? You seemed to keep putting yourself into life threatening situations of your own doing, and you couldn’t help but wonder just how long you should put Joel and Ellie through this. 

If you were honest, talking was the last thing you had the energy for especially with a man like Joel Miller, but you made your way into the bedroom anyways.

It was later in the evening when you had said goodnight to Ellie before pausing at Joel’s closed door. Your hand was over the cold metal of the door handle as your rested your forehead against the wood. You couldn’t avoid this one, Joel would just stay awake until you’d try to go to bed. Letting out a shaky breathe, you slowly opened the door just enough to slip inside. 

He looked so soft, the dim glow of the room painting the side of his face like a painting. His features so handsome it never failed to pull you into it’s alluring grasp. Dressed in just a soft t-shirt and flannel patterned sweats, he was leaned up against the dresser with his hands braced behind him on the wood. 

Gesturing with his chin to where the bathroom sat just outside of the door, “Ellie skipped out today, there should be enough hot water for you to actually enjoy for the whole time.” 

Your hands twiddled at your sides, before shaking your head no. Mostly ignoring the side of the room where he stood, you pulled your shirt over your head as the fabric muffled your words. “I’ll just wait until morning. It’s late.” Not really looking at him, you mindlessly grabbed a sweater of his laying on the bed. 

Totally missing the fact that Joel had clearly sat it out for you. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you choose an early shower of a night one.” You missed the furrow of his brows as his grasp on the drawer handles tensed more. 

You just shrugged. Sitting on the edge of the bed to change into your own sweatpants you now faced his direction but looked at the floor. You could see he had pushed off of the drawer and made his way to your. You didn’t want to be alone with this whirlwind of unknowable emotions anymore today, you just wanted to sleep.

He’d wait up for you if you showered now. You could sneak out tomorrow morning and come back to shower when the house was empty. Besides, if you did now no question Joel would end up leaned against the sink counter. Ready to take care of the hot pressure of the water pouring down onto a wound he knew you weren’t actually trying to take care of. 

Joel hovers when he worries, and for the first time you think you hated it.   

Crouching down to look up at you, Joel didn’t touch you this time. Just gave you the space. “You can’t just shut me out, not after I almost lost you.” His jaw was clenched but there was a familiar affection in his eyes that shined more sad than romantic. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say, I told you what happened that day I wasn’t lying or keeping anything from you.” Your hands tapping against the sheets beside you. “I just want to let it go.” 

This time when Joel grabbed you, it was the side of your jaw with his fingers stretched just barley across your cheek. His tug was firm as he forced you to look at him now leaning over you. His face this time, was much closer to the anger you used to think he only ever showed. “Yeah? Well I can’t. You think I can just let go of the fact that I found you unconscious in a pool of your own blood? The fact that there was a fucking trail of it all over the floor, not even sure you were alive?” 

You shut your eyes, the watering feeling coming up to the surface of them as you fisted the sheets in your hands. “I’m not asking you to forget-” 

His hold on you gave a purposeful shake to open your eyes. “Good, because I’m not about to anytime soon. I’m not about to just get over having to sit there with Ellie, terrified you were going to wake up...but it wouldn’t be you.” 

There was upset in his eyes as well, but masked with a desperate anger. It made your guilt feel worse. The guilt flooding you with shame and reminding you how inadequate you had become. How useless you’d soon be to them, and you were terrified of what you’d do if, or when, he kicked you out of Jackson, out of his life.  You felt small as you just whispered out, “I’m sorry.” 

His forehead rested against yours, his other hand on your side just hoping you’d touch him back. “Don’t be sorry, just stop pretending I’m not here for you, because I’m never going to stop caring about you so goddamn much. Alright?” His thumbs ran comfortingly over your skin, leaving a starch warmth in their path. 

You nodded, fists still clutching the sheets. It always came around to not feeling good enough for him, but now you hated yourself for making him waste this fierce protectiveness on someone who didn’t deserve it.  Joel’s hands slipped from your face to plant themselves next to yours. Part of you yearned for his touch back, but the other part wanted to get away from him entirely. 

Your heart pounding in your chest, each beat feeling as if it constricted your lungs tighter and tighter. You could hear it in your head, demanding you let the feeling take over but you didn’t want to. Joel had put up with enough of this for one day, why drive him away further. 

Whatever Joel found in your eyes, it made him pull back from whatever he was trying to get out of you. Leaning off the bed you felt one hand pull your head in just slightly as he pressed a kiss there, mumbling as he pulled away. “Let’s get you to bed, you need the extra rest.” 

You didn’t consider it was referring to how little you were letting your side heal, it to your brain, was him wanting you to sleep off this attitude. So you nodded, and that was the end of that. 

Sleep though, brought you a whole other nightmare. Nothing was coherent, it was like your memories were mixed together into one warped event. The burning pain of sharp teeth sinking into you, your arm, your side, the blood that covered you from both. The yelling of what you had done ringing in your ears as a distant sound grew louder and louder behind it. 

Once again consumed by terror, it was like flashes of mutated once humans and the clicking that followed. That clicking grew even louder, mixing so harsh with the now indistinguishable yelling that the clicking made you cover your ears but it still consumed you. It yelled into your very head as the agony of the bites felt like it was all over your body, the walls closing in as you were surrounded by the very thing trying to turn you into them. 

The only thing that you could see as you sat against the wall was fresh dead. The distant sight of a man draped over his dead wife, and then that very man splayed dead on the floor from your own action. His yells still filling the air and the roaring of the creatures echoed in the air, only to stop suddenly as you lurched awake. 

Instantly pushing yourself up against the bed on the palms of your hand, you gasped for air as the sound of blood pumping flowed in your ears. You had been turned away from Joel, almost at the edge of the bed as close to the open air as can be. Briefly you shut your eyes as you worked desperately to taper your frantic breathing silently, the cold air in the room freezing with your sweat covered skin. 

Your arms shook with the force it took to hold you up, your jaw clenched so tight you could feel the strain being pulled to it’s limit. You didn’t want to flip over to look at him, you felt too much shame and such sickening guilt you didn’t want to look at anyone. It was too late in the night to slip out of bed. 

Joel’s internal clock was atuned to when to be suspicious of sound or movement, he’d wake up and you were not about to explain your painful trembling state. You just lay there once more. Staring out the window you faced at the dark nothingness the angle allowed you to see. 

You wondered if you had slipped in and out of sleep without noticing as the sky slowly brightened before your eyes quicker then you expected. You could still hear it, the sounds of your dreams, and all you could think was how little you wanted he or Ellie to see how pathetic you looked. 

It was close enough to morning that you knew you could get away without issue. Silently you slinked form the bed and got dressed, barley paying attention to what you were grabbing. As you dropped your shirt over your torso, you looked slightly behind you. Joel’s large frame still peacefully asleep like he deserved to have. You bit the inside of your cheek again, and left, slowly shutting his door behind him. 

Luckily the house was still silent. The only stop you made was downing a glass of water before throwing your bag over your shoulder and walking out. That though, did make you stop. Because Ellie was awake and leaning against the railing looking directly at you. 

Arms crossed and a hard frown, she wasted no time. “You’re supposed to be taking it easy.” 

Your face tensing as you squinted in the growing sunlight, you really needed to find a pair of sunglasses. You nervously readjusted your grip on your bag and shrugged. “I just have a lot to catch up on after-” 

Her voice got louder this time. “After what? Ripping your stitches open twice already?” Ellie’s tone was a bit easier to catch then Joel’s. There was an anger in her voice but it was mixed heavily with a waver of genuine upset. “You should be letting it heal before jumping back like nothing happened.” 

Her bright eyes bore into yours this time. No trace of anger, just distant desperation. Sighing as you looked down with your eyes shutting briefly, “Ellie,” 

“No.” You once again shot up this time brows furrowed as you looked at her. “What happened, it- it wasn’t nothing. I know it wasn’t.” Voice cracking weakly as she consciously or unconsciously grazed her fingers over where you now knew was a healed over brand of teeth. 

More guilt set in. Stepping forward you tilted her head up more to your height, “But that’s just it isn’t it? What happened happened, and it turned into nothing. For both of us.” The tension in her body was clear and while you hadn’t known her for as long as Joel, this was still the first time she was distinctly upset about something serious. 

“I know there’s Joel, but...” Sighing deeply she let her arms fall to her sides. “It’s different with you. No one but you knows what it feels like, and..” 

“It doesn’t feel good.” You knew exactly what she meant. Having to watch the exact same fate fall on person after person and you are silent in the background knowing that never became you. It was eating away at you, but that was the last thing you wanted for her. Your thumb moved to trace over her cheek. “You have me, I promise. It just...getting used to people knowing isn’t easy.” 

Ellie nodded. “Joel was the only person who knew that didn’t want something from me.” 

The pause in your breathe nudged at a thought you had not too long ago. Mixing what on had told you about the job he took that led him to her, and the mention of places Joel and Ellie had travelled through before arriving here. You looked at her, almost a hopeful look that you knew you didn’t feel. 

What exactly did she think those people wanted from her, you wonder. How much did she really know. You wanted to ask Joel, but the last thing you’d ever do to him is push for information about his past. So you settled for a middle ground. Kneeling down to her height more, you made her look you in the eye. “The only thing anyone should want for you, Ellie is to let you feel normal. That’s what Joel wants and it’s what I want for you too. You have me, but this?” 

Your own hand reached out to gently hold where you now knew the mark was. “I don’t want this being what defines you. What happened then is important, but so is now. Okay?” 

Ellie nodded again. Seemingly backing up a bit to give you room to leave. You gave a nod back before standing up straight and taking a step down the stairs before Ellie called you name. 

Turning your body, she stood now in front of the steps, fidgeting as if grappling with a decision she wasn’t sure she wanted to make. Whatever she really wanted, she changed her mind. “Are you going to be late again, tonight?” 

You wished she wasn’t getting so attached to you. Your intrusion on their lives felt much more like a leech minute by minute. “I’ll try.” Ellie took that as a final answer. Her eyes lost in thought before going back inside, slamming the door just loud enough you knew Joel had heard it. So you wasted no time and walked away. 

You had too much to catch up on, and you were sick of being stuck with your thoughts. The distractions was all you wanted to depend on right now, and to be honest? You really didn’t care if you ripped your stitches open again to do it. 

The entire day blurred around you once again, the time that passed feeling like hours were the length of days. It wasn’t even a week since the incident, yet if you were to say what it felt like, you’d say months. People always joked how quickly time passes, but you didn’t experience it the same way. 

To you, really ever since that day you had been left to suffocate on the heavy air, die from your wound, or worse, time felt like an eternity. So the day dragged on endlessly. Sometimes the people around you asked what was up with you, but you shrugged it off. You were naturally quiet, so they took it as such and you didn’t want any attention otherwise. 

Ignoring it was probably a mistake. During the afternoon, you had hopped up onto a platform to help drag up a heavy box, only to jump down with force. You knew right away what you did, you could feel it. Before joining up with the others, you slowly lifted your shirt just enough to see a trickle of blood. 

Rolling your eyes with a sigh, you dropped it back down. It wasn’t much blood, you just wanted to ignore the bite for once. You wish Joel had just finished the job and seared the skin over, but he was adamant and pretty offended that you wanted him to put you through what would basically be torture. “It’s deep and it’s fucking huge, do you know how painful that would be? Even if I did it when you were passed out, that kind of burn would wake you up from the pain and knock you right back out from shock.” 

You tried to reason with him, but the conversation ended with Joel raising his hand to interrupt you. “It’s not going to happen. Now or ever.” Pointing at you, the tension radiating from his body. “Don’t ever ask me again.” He stormed out of the room at that point and you never suggested anything like it again. 

You figured no one would notice what happened anyways. You had 3 layers on at this point and that’d be enough to cover up whatever blood seeped through your clothes. You did start to wince as the day went on though, but maybe it was deserved. 

Meeting up with Joel later on, the stinging reminded you that you deserved to feel this way. Multiple times in the evening you missed his eyes narrowing as he looked you over, but you gave nothing away he could easily detect. It wasn’t until that night did he find anything to confront you with. 

It had stopped bleeding by the time you went to sleep, it was just now open and painful. Later you wondered if it was just a normal nightmare would you have been normal enough not to catch his attention, but this time that wasn’t the case. 

Sleep paralysis was a new thing to you. You were half aware that it was Joel’s room you were in, but nothing around you looked like it. No it looked like the view on that grimy floor you laid out on as you waited in terror for the infection to take effect. The quiet wind blowing just outside the walls and the scattered movement of the creature reminding you what you were waiting to become. 

In the memory you got up eventually, but here you couldn’t. Nothing about you could move. Your body strained and vibrated as every nerve in your body buzzed at their inability to shift even slightly. Every attempt to turn failing. 

Your heart started to race as the panic built in your chest rapidly. You didn’t know if it was real or the panic you felt that caused the pressure, the sensation like your chest was being pressed and you couldn’t breathe. Fear filled your veins as you lost sight of knowing you weren’t here but in what was supposed to be a safe place. 

The reality forming into a terror that maybe this was it. That this was the final state, would you soon lose yourself or would you be trapped? Always fighting to move your body but instead of being paralyzed on the ground, would you be fighting against the infection doing it for you? 

You wanted to scream, but you couldn’t move any of your muscles enough to produce any movement of sound. In the back of your head it felt as if your eyes fluttered, like but nothing around you changed. It just felt like a taunt. The yelling seemed to come back, only quiet and different then before, and you lay there, radically terrified that you couldn’t even turn your head or open your eyes properly to see what was coming. 

What did startle you from this hell and pull you up into the real world, was a grasp of hands on your body and a stark voice in your ear. Suddenly you drastically flew up in bed and open your eyes as fast as possible. The deep heavy sensation threatening to pull you back under it’s still spell if you closed them again. 

Joel at this point had leaned across the bed with your cheeks cupped in is hands as he spoke softly to you. “Just breathe,” Nodding you slowly started to force yourself to breathe steadily in and out as your heart slowed, and your mind finally tore away from the pull. Joel’s whispers continuing comfort your disjointed thoughts. “Good, that’s good. You’re okay, sweetheart.” 

Without looking up at him, both of your hands weakly reached up to grasp at his wrists. Your head sort of tipping down into his hold a little firmer. In the back of your head, you were demanding to pull away and not fall for his endearing protection, to just separate and stop this before he decided he was caring too much for a lost cause.

But your anxiety won out. Looking up at the different kind of terror in his own eyes you wondered just how you looked in that moment before he woke you up. Wondering if the strange fluttering of your eyes wasn’t just a spine tingling figment of your imagination. God how could he even look at you anymore, if he saw such an uncomfortable sight laying out side him? 

You tried to whisper, but your voice was weary and your tone not in any way assertive. Just a mumbling, “I’m fine.” Which wasn’t enough for Joel. One hand moved to hold just under your chin to tilt your head up with his thumb, the other fingers finding part of your jaw. 

He kissed you perhaps a little more aggressive then he should have for dragging you from a terrifying sleep, but you couldn’t comprehend the kind of worry you continued to put in him by shutting out anything that was happening to you.  

His soft lips capturing yours over and over, almost muttering things into your mouth. Pouring words of scare and comfort into how he felt. Joel was always better at showing you how he felt then saying it, he he did it again here. 

Your own hands at that point, found a home on his torso. One pressed against his chest while the other grasped at his meaty side and dragged him into you more. Joel in that moment allowed himself to get dragged over top of you, one of his hands pressing your waist into the bed. 

It wasn’t until he teased your mouth open further with his tongue, and gently feeling the brush against yours that he tried pulling away. Muttering your name, be pulled back twice when you tried to chase his lips again, each time telling you, “Easy baby,” or shushing you with a gentle “Hey, hey settle down”, while his hands raked over the side of your head soothingly. 

He dragged the tip of his nose over the length of yours before pressing a kiss there. Leaning up enough to look you in the eye, his other hand cupping the back of your head to support you as you lifted it slightly to follow. “Joel, please I just-” 

His face was set in a firmness as much as you could see in the dark room. “Take it easy for me first.” 

You dove in already though, jumping into a water that needed Joel’s touch, his kiss like survival. “Please, I just need you right now. I need you.” Your voice almost pleading with him as you dragged your hands over around his neck, your forehead moving up to press against his. “I don’t want to think about that, I just need-” 

Joel nodded, his lips brushing against yours with every move. “You need me sweetheart, is that it? Need my touch to calm you down?” He wasn’t mocking or even teasing. It was a serious tone he asked you in like nothing else mattered. You must have looked pretty terrifying to get this kind of response in the middle of the night. 

But you needed it too. So you pleaded yes. “Please. I just need you in me, just for a little while.” 

Joel’s breathe was warm on your face as he sighed through his nose. Clearly conflicted in thought for a moment. Pressing one last gentle kiss to your lips, you could feel a fond almost smile breaking onto his face. “A little while, that’s it.” Joel sat up to straddle your legs between him, helping you up enough let you touch him as you needed. 

When he went to lift your shirt up, you stopped him instantly. Giving him to chance to even ask, just grasping them with yours and moving them to your bottoms and kissing him more. He dragged them down with relative ease, he was a man that honestly? Didn’t care about taking his time to undress your most private parts. He needed touch, and looking and feeling your bare skin on his, is what he wanted. You pulled his shirt over his head, and greedily felt his chest. 

His broad frame always consuming so much of the time you explored him. His broad frame spanned smiles on your small hands, and it seemed to go on forever as they naturally found their way to the soft rounder stomach beneath. Joel once told you that your softness and how much you had of it, made him obsessed. “Sometimes it feels like you’re the only damn thing in this world that isn’t rough or hard.” 

He very quickly tossed you onto the couch immediately after when you made a wisecrack about how he didn’t “feel very hard”. That was blatantly untrue and you both knew it. 

Even now pressed against your front you could feel his cock hardening with every trace of your fingers or swipe of his tongue against your own. With little warning, Joel yanked you up to straddle his lap as he sat upright on the bed, his knees and calves resting below him as his thick thighs and equally thick cock functioned as your own seat.  

You lucked out in the nic of time. The very moment Joel grabbed too close on your waist to your still ripped open stitches, he also ground you down onto his cock. The jump in his arms was followed by a needy gasp that disguised the painful one behind it. You once again wrapped your arms around his neck as he slid his hands down to your hips. 

“Spread out for me, sweetheart.” He meant to kneel you back down onto the bed, finding his favourite spot between your legs but you couldn’t risk that. Joel was grabby when he tasted you, and he’d no doubt either push your shirt up too high or grab at it mindlessly. 

“No, no no, I just need you in me, please. All of you.” Your hands flying down to his waistband and trying to push it down enough to feel the course hair spread across his pelvis. He sensitive area pulled a shaky moan from him before he kissed you again. 

“I need to stretch you open, baby it’s been a while.” He meant it kindly, but you just didn’t want to risk it as insane as you knew it was. When you protested, he pulled you into his bare chest with a hand wrapped behind your back. “You’re a tight fit even after I’ve already fucked you plenty, let me take care of you.” 

You needed to distract him. So you took your chance and pulled his waistband down enough to wrap your hand around his cock. He jolted in place and groaned into your shoulder as his head dropped into you. “Fuck,” 

Pulling him out into the open air, you worked him over taking advantage of every leak of precum he gave you. For a moment he was lost in you. The sound of the wet skin of his cock you stroked up and down, the tightness of your grip and the steady speed you jerked him forced moans out of him and his arms to tighten around you. 

The muscles of those arms impossibly large and all consuming as he luckily held you just above your side. It almost surprised Joel how much just you stroking his cock could work him up. His hips trying to chase your pace as he could feel the tension in his body coiling, but he wanted to take care of you more. 

Pulling back from your shoulder he aggressively kissed you, ripping your hands away and positioning your hips to hover just above him. Mumbling into your mouth, Joel still checked in. “Are you sure, sweetheart?” 

Nodding against his lips, Joel took your word for it. Every time you were sat in his lap, his cock never eased into you. He sank so deep and it pulled mutters and swears from his gritting teeth. You had covered his cock as much as you could, smearing his own cum over his cock as you stroked him to already get him wet. 

You were wet, but you knew not what he would think was acceptable enough. There was a distinct burn that made you hiss out. You could see the instant concern but took advantage of his still somewhat sleepy state. Dropping your head into his neck and shoulder just as he did, you gave a genuine moan from how deep he was and how thick his cock felt snugly inside of you. 

You very quickly begun kissing and nibbling at the skin of his neck and Joel’s moans were shameless at the attack of such a sensitive area. His hands with a grip on your hips so tight the bruises already started to bloom in his fingertips shape. Moving you slowly up and down the length of his cock got gasps and whimpers out of you. 

The slow pace didn’t last as long as he intended. His cock finding that spot inside of you quickly, the intense pleasure it would spiral you into was something he almost always took advantage of. You grinded into his cock more and more, trying to meet his pace, but Joel was the one yanking your hips up and down. 

It was his cock that he thrusted up into you as he pulled you back down with an echoed slap of your thighs against his. That sound that drove him insane, and Joel didn’t quite know why but it only started after he found you. Fucking up into you as the slap of your skin together rang in his ears and harmonized with the moans and whimpers you stuttered out between pleads of his name. 

One hand of his snaked down to grasp at your ass as pull your hips even tighter against him just as he sunk his cock as much as he could into your warm, wet pussy. “Oh god,” the gasp bled into his own moaning. 

Working you over his cock as he rambled about how good you were, how “so fucking good” you felt around him. Nonsensical muttering about staying inside you forever as his entire body coiled and tightened once more, causing him to sacrifice a steady pounding into quick and breathtaking shallow thrusts. His hips slamming into your own fast, making the air nothing but the moans of each others need, and your skin slapping together so fast that by the time the first slap had faded it was replaced with a newer one once more. 

His grip on your ass pushed you into him more, your clit now grazing against the rough hair around his cock. His hair tight in your hands as you whimpered, high pitched and desperate as you could feel the pleasure building as fast as he fucked you. 

“I got you, I’ve- fuck- I got you, let me have it, baby. Just let me have it, you can do it, you can cum all over my cock, sweet girl.” His cock against the warm wall inside you that blanked your mind of any thought, a whiteout in your head filled with nothing but your orgasm shattering around him. 

“Good, fuck- that’s my fucking girl. Jesus Christ, you feel so fucking good around my cock.” Joel was chasing his own orgasm and he throbbed inside of you, the sensitive brush of hair against your clit not allowing you to really come down. “Gonna let me fill you with my cum? Let me spill inside you?” A question he’s never asked of you before.

You nodded into a gasp, and it didn’t take but a few more thrusts before Joel’s orgasm let go. The unbelievable need it fed you, feeling his warm cum spill inside of you, never really dripping out until he slides his cock out of the tight hold you have around it. 

You both held the other as you breathed heavily coming back down. Joel tipped your chin up to look at him with his fingers, cupping it gently enough to pull you into another kiss. You were distracted all right. 

Because as he hand smoothed over what he thought was a healing wound, you hissed in pain and there was no slide of his cock inside of you to disguise it. 

He pulled away from your lips without hesitating. His eyes narrowing at the guilt you had painted all over you. If it was lighter he might see the very start of another bleed finding it’s way over the fabric of your shirt, but he found it anyways when he yanked it up with one hand, and awkwardly leaned over you to turn his bedside light on with the other. 

It was clear they weren’t newly ripped. There was a distinct wear and tear that mocked him for not noticing the issue earlier in the day. The anger he felt looking at the painful memory didn’t last long when he looked back up. 

The shame and guilt on you was heartbreakingly distinct. You looked off to the side as your hands shook slightly pulling away from him. Assuming he was mad at you, assuming he didn’t want you touching him anymore. 

Whatever complex contemplation you normally thought through stoically was disastrously affected by the curtains being whipped open so soon after he fucked you. Joel took sex with you very seriously, but he also knew you did too. He knew how intense it was for you and his chest lurched seeing how fast those two emotions mixed together and collapsed in front of you. 

His jaw clenched briefly, before kissing your nose. “C’mon.” Gesturing his head to the door, “Let’s patch you up before that gets infected.” 

If Joel noticed your distinct pause at his word choice, he kept it to himself for now. As quiet as you could, Joel nudged you to take a seat in the washroom as he grabbed the med supplies. Bracing yourself, you hissed out again as you made you way to sit up on the sink counter. 

Peeking out the door you could see Ellie’s own bedroom, your thoughts consuming you with something you never considered before. You were at least an adult when you found out, someone supposed to be equipped to handle information like that, despite your current jumble of emotions aside. Ellie is still a child though. You filled with more guilt, wondering just how hard it must be for her to watch others around you fall to a fate they don’t know is impossible for you. 

Once Joel came back in, silently shutting the door you were back in your own head. Without even thinking about it, he gracefully pulled your shirt over your head once more, needing broad access to stitch. Your arm resting above your head as Joel coaxed you with warm mumbling every wince or hiss in pain, he noted you more than once glancing back to the door where you had been looking at Ellie’s room. “She needs you more than I think she’s willing to admit.” 

You only nodded mildly, but the guilt gathered in your eyes as Joel continued. “We uh, it wasn’t easy getting to this point.” You knew part of things, how they met, where he was supposed to take her, and what happened along the way to change his mind. It wasn’t until a little before getting to Jackson that Joel struggled to speak on, but you did know what he was asked to do was from the Fireflies. 

“They thought you’d just hand her over and wouldn’t care.” Joel stopped for a second, his bright eyes looking up at you, but you didn’t return it. “They never tell you why they want you. I only ever met them twice once I knew they found out, but they never tried to kill me straight out. They always wanted to drag me across the country. What they wanted from me was useless if I died before they could get it themselves.” 

Joel swallowed heavily, finding his voice wasn’t easy. The waver in his tone, how small it made him appear despite the deep intensity of his tone. “They didn’t tell me what they wanted with her until after I handed her over. Already had to prepped to go on the fucking table like the months I spent with her wouldn’t change a thing. She...I wasn’t going to let that happen.” He focused on your side as he spoke. 

The water was freezing as you dipped your toes into it, never wanting to ask about what happened that day but what you knew now had unwillingly connected a few dots. Tossing some things to the side, Joel rested his palms on your thighs, soothing them up and down. If not for you, then for himself. “The hospital.” 

Joel’s eyes shined with realization, and you almost knew then exactly. It made sense. You knew about that day with Sarah and you knew about that day as well. Ellie covered in blood after god knows what those degenerates wanted to do to her. 

It seemed so weird to you now. You’d only ever known them this way, how unquestioningly the fact of Ellie was his daughter. This protective love that was still forming, both of them navigating their fears. Ellie needing to get used to seeing someone care about her, let alone a father, and not be afraid she’d find herself alone again. 

And Joel grappling with becoming a father again, and your sudden understanding that he was right. He’d do anything to protect his family, and Ellie was his daughter. He wasn’t going to let it happen again. 

“It was you. The hospital in Salt Lake City.” 

Seeing his entire body tense up, you instantly leaned forward, pulling him by the back of his head to rest your foreheads against one another. You had crossed a dangerous border, and it needed to be softened before he let it fester in his mind. His grip on your thighs tightened, as if the feeling was keeping his feet on the ground. He nodded, “Were you-” 

Raking your fingers through his hair, Joel’s eyes shut. His face was so soft in moments like this, and you wanted more of them for him. “I didn’t know until Don told me. He uh-” You gulped, hoping to keep the boiling sickness in your stomach at bay. “He was apparently there that day. He mentioned some father killing a bunch of people to get his daughter out before the doctor could cut into her.” 

The sick feeling only increased. “I didn’t know they had kids. That they just didn’t give a shit about sacrificing a child for whatever they thought was their purpose.” 

It sat strangely with you. The life you had taken, lives you had taken to protect this secret about you. The image of Don, slumped dead on the floor had haunted you more than the memory of him trapping you to die in the first place. 

Did you deserve to live for even a sliver chance of saving a life? You didn’t know. Not for you, and it’s torn you apart for days now. That Joel and Ellie’s lives would be easier if you just let them take out, and you never had brought this to their door. 

But that’s why Joel let you in. That’s why he refused to let you keep this bottled up, he knew what toxicity was consuming you. “She doesn’t know.” You both lifted your heads at the same time, Joel’s hands moving to your waist this time, his thumb stroking back and forth over the sliver of skin below his handy work. “She was already under when it happened.” 

You didn’t need to even say anything. What you thought about it didn’t even matter, because you weren’t the only one with a guilt building up inside of you. Joel’s guilt was a lie, where yours was a regret, but it made you feel all the same. 

“She needs to know eventually. It’s a part of both of you.” 

You cupped his face in your hands, you both knew what was at risk now. This feeling inside of you, would that also be Ellie? The death around her at the expensive of a procedure neither of you knew much about, but was told it was for the greater good. It wasn’t just that though. 

You said it before Joel forced it out, easing his pain. “It’s you lying to her that’ll hurt. She can forgive you for that.” There was a distinct look of distance in your eye, something deeper that even here and now, wasn’t going away. “She’s not the one who has to bear the brunt of what she’s done.” 

Joel’s eyes bore into your own, a whirlwind of thoughts and need in them that he poured into your mouth as he leaned in for a kiss. His hands returning your own gesture and grasping at the sides of your face desperately. He knew it wasn’t him you were talking about, but there was no way to grasp the gravity of how you felt. 

Ellie is young, and was rescued from a fate she didn’t know she would suffer and wasn’t the one who spilt the bloodshed along the way. Joel’s at risk unlike her, he can’t survive what she can, he understands what he might be giving up when he killed those people. 

You can though, and you’re the one who has to face the selfishness of protecting your own life against the slightest possibility of something akin to a cure. Ellie needs to know the truth, but the heavy weight in your chest was something you didn’t want for her. 

Joel’s touch was refreshing, but it didn’t take away the conflict toiling your mind about the what if. A fate you refused to let fall to a child, but couldn’t let go for yourself, the painful truth that you just may be hindering a chance of help. 

Don wasn’t the first person you killed, and he likely wouldn’t be the last. But it had started something unlike any other time. It started a chain reaction of emotions spiralling out of control and you couldn’t catch your breathe long enough to understand them, let alone say what they felt like. You felt more and more worthless. 

Like you were starting to depend too much on others for your own well being, and the constant frustration that you didn’t know why. You haven’t been around people for this long in a few years, and never with a connection like this. How much of this was normal, and how much of it was you burdening Joel with your own interpersonal problems. 

Sometime in between the little bit of sleep you managed to get once back in bed, a sprinkle of rain has grown quietly in strength until how it poured down now. A loud heavy stream with clouds bearing above that darkened the afternoon sky. 

You had found solace in the steady ting of water against the roof. Many things flashing in your mind, but the focus of the repeating water droplets making any of them indistinguishable as you saw less and less of the present and more seeing into the white noise in your head. 

Unbeknownst to you, the amount of time that had passed was enough to draw Ellie over to you as you appeared to be lost in thought, your hand trembling in the air as it hovered above the counter. Interrupting your work in the kitchen with an overtaking buzz of incomprehensible flashes of pain before your eyes. 

It just so happened the very same time she called your name did the faint sound of a distinct click mix together and snapped your out of it. All in one fell swoop did the you turn to look at her, and the knife slipping from your hands, and slicing into the underside of your arm before slamming onto the ground. 

You didn’t really react at first, the sight of the cut now bleeding didn’t even register with pain, but the splatter from the angle of impact left a splatter on the side of the counter and ground that had Ellie shout, but what you couldn’t really tell. 

The only thing that found it’s way through your head was one word. Useless. To be honest the next few seconds you hardly did with any knowledge, as if you were alone once again you moved to clean and cover it, the entire time Ellie beside you, hands hovering trying to find a chance to help you. 

It wasn’t until the stinging surged through your veins at all once when you tightened and closed off the cloth wrapping did you snap out of this automatic state. Ellie finally grabbed you saying your name once more, “Are you-” Her blazing eyes darting to the blood still visible behind the wrappings back to the sharp look you gave her. “What the hell happened?” 

Confusion and panic was all over her expression, and for a second you almost remembered yourself. But over the sound of the pouring rain out heard the distant shouting of a voice that you just couldn’t take right now. 

Later the guilt would set in, but in the moment you felt very little other then the warm burning of your forearm and the constriction of your chest. You couldn’t be here anymore, you had done enough here and the only rational you could come up with was you should leave before being forced too. 

Before you knew it, you were slamming the backdoor with a throw as you took off in the rain. Did you run or was your walk just faster then normal? You couldn’t tell, by the time you found yourself with your back leaning against a tree far off from town did the cold air and even colder rain really cover you entirely did the world come rushing back. 

You leaned your head forward, closing your eyes as your chest heaved to catch your breathe. The time of year and the rain made your hands stiff with a brisk coolness that shouldn’t have felt good. But you didn’t really care. You found yourself sliding down the length of the tree trunk, and sat with your knees bent in front of you. 

With a thonk, your head fell back to rest on the bark. The water soaked the bandage on your arm and you figured it didn’t really matter. It was rain water, nothing dirty or festering with bacteria to make it worse, so you left it uncovered. 

For a while you sat there, arm hovering beside you as you stared into the red. You had never felt this way from killing before, not for killing a man who tried to kill you first. What Joel told you meant nothing. Just something to calm you down enough to shut up and go back to sleep. He didn’t want to carry your issues and he shouldn’t, anyways. 

Being back on your own felt daunting. A knowing silence that you long forgotten over just months, creeping back to mock you with it’s isolation. You had little understanding of how a relationship was even supposed to work. 

Every step of the way with Joel you were guessing. You had hid your immunity from him, because you knew only conflict would follow and look what happened. It was unspoken even to yourself how you felt about Joel. 

Something you didn’t know or understand blossoming into a deep emotion that you did in fact have a name for, but a wonder if Joel would return it now was wrapping itself around your throat as it suffocated you to thinking he’d throw you out for who you were. 

The sky had grown more dim as the clouds moved on, yet the rain didn’t let up. Moving suddenly you pulled the lighter out of your pocket once more. This time you didn’t taunt yourself with the metallic clink of it’s open and close.  You turned it in your hand, eyes a blank vacant stare towards it. 

It meant nothing anymore. What happened that day happened, and it doesn’t matter if you hold onto it. Don’s still rotting on a wooden floor next to the corpses of creatures you couldn’t become, and you would always have to face that. Face that your own mortality was dependant on refusing to give it up for a rebel group to cut into looking for the answer to a question they don’t even understand. 

Your jaw clenching as you felt the digging of your teeth into your cheek, maybe that was the fate you deserved, just not one you wanted for the only other girl you’d ever known as also like you. 

Pushing up from the tree, you leaned forward enough to throw the lighter with a grunt. Watching it disappear into the treeline before your head fell into your arms now resting on your knees. 

“Not a bad throw for sitting down.” 

You damn near jumped out of your skin. Head whipping to the side to see Joel sitting beside you. The man was too sneaky for his own good sometimes. To the side of him, Ellie stood against another tree at a good enough angle to see both of you. 

“How the hell does a man your size get around without anyone noticing?” Joel didn’t laugh but it got a smirk out of Ellie. 

“I swear he uses it just to sneak up on me when I start slacking.” You both chuckled quietly at one another, their calm and cavalier attitude putting you at a strange ease without effort. 

The deep rumble of Joel’s voice sat snugly into your ear, “Let me see it.” 

Your head lulled to the side to watch as he gently grasped your arm, pulling the soaked wrappings away enough to inspect the slash. His face wasn’t in view but Ellie’s was. The sudden panic earlier now replaced with a stoic look you knew spoke volumes more than she wanted it too. Eyes squinting to see it without having the nerve to come closer. 

“Needs to be re wrapped now obviously, but it looks good.” The lack of a disappointment in his tone sent you right back into the ever annoying world of confusion. 

You wanted to bite back with tone, try and prove yourself, but exhaustion and defeat was all the muttered out. “Used to do it all the time when I travelled by myself. Good to know it’ll come in handy again now, I guess.” 

Joel didn’t let go of you but his grip tightened somewhat. “Like hell you’re going anywhere.” 

You tried yanking your arm out of his hand, but his strength was as stubborn as his personality. His name slipped out in protest, but he turned to look at you more direct, the view of Ellie side stepping to change her view in the corner of your eye. 

“Hey. I need you to sit here, and just listen to me.” Sensing a hesitation, he pulled you in closer with a furrowed brow and eyes burning into yours. “Just let me say what I need to say before anything else. Okay?” 

You nodded your head yes. His grip softened in your arm, and the feeling of this thumb trailing over your skin soothed the fading sting. 

“We’re not here to change your mind, but we want you to. Whether you can accept it or not, you’re family now. And a family protects the ones they love, period.” His fingers grazed your cheek enough to turn you more to face him. “You try to do everything to prove yourself at every goddamn turn, worried if you even say you need help that’s some sign of weakness. That’s just not the case, sweetheart. You’re allowed to need us, you should need us sometimes, because,” 

The half a second pause let Ellie finish his sentence. “Because we need you.” 

Fingers sliding from your cheek, Joel still held onto your arm gently as you looked up at Ellie, the stoic slipping down with the rainfall. There was a waver overpowering the noise of the slowing water. “You don’t get to just walk out, just leave us here because you don’t think we care. You just can’t do that.” 

She never spoke about this fear of abandonment that festers inside. Likely hardly knew it still existed after almost being dumped as Tommy’s problem when Joel got too scared of caring about her. Now it wasn’t just him she worried about walking out of her life. 

Shoulders sagging slightly as the tension washed off, your mouth parted as your eyes met ones threatening to cry. This time Joel let your arm go, as he watched your reach begin to reach them out to Ellie. Only to be thrown backward into the trunk once more as she lunged into your chest. 

The hug didn’t last long, but she squeezed with desperation, as you leaned your head into hers. Suddenly being pulled back at the gentle behest of Joel, “Watch her side.” 

He was now leaning forward, replacing your hands on her with his. One of his own softly cupping the side of her face with an intensity that only could be read as a reassurance. Wiping her eyes before looking at you, she swiped some excess from her forehead in a thinly veiled act as if it was just the rain.

All three of you knew better. Ellie sat back on her heels, her emotional outburst not something she meant to explode on you with. You winced as you got up slightly on your knees to run your hand over her hair, you could feel Joel’s hands guiding you up, “Easy.” 

The grumpy almost glare on her face reminded you of the man next to you. Clearly that was a learned trait of hers, not a hereditary one. Sucking in a deep breathe, you found it in yourself to stop being so afraid to just say what you felt. “I’ve done a lot of hard things to protect my own life over the years, a lot of shit that cost other people theirs. Some of it to get out of the most terrifying shit I’ve ever seen.”

Her eyes peering over to you with a stark understanding. You knew about that day, the vivid description of fear Joel felt seeing her with that horrific expression and a face covered in blood. 

“But doing it because of what I am, when people who about it and only want your life for it, that’s a kind of guilt I don’t want for you. The kind of guilt I don’t understand and I don’t know if I ever will. But-” You took a deep breathe and moved to hold the other side of her face. “But you don’t deserve to do it, any of this, alone. And I’m sorry for trying to force you otherwise.” 

Ellie nodded, a little too much as she compensated for a stirring of emotion she tried to hold together. All she could get out as a question forcing as little upset as possible, “You’re coming home...right?” 

Honestly? It was sweet. Never once has she called your home anything but the place she shared with Joel. You may not know about the amount of times she debates with the man about getting him to just ask you to live there permanently, but you were beginning to feel the sentiment. “Yeah...I am. Can’t miss seeing how many more times you can possibly fail at guitar before you start learning anything, afterall.” 

There it was, with a roll of her eyes the toiling anxiety left her in favour of a huffing annoyance. Pushing up onto her feet she mumbled, “Everyone’s got something to say don’t they?” 

You and Joel joined her, his arms supporting you as you stood trying not to let a hiss come out with the wince from your side. Before you could start to follow, Joel stepped in front of you with a hand still on your waist. “Wait here a minute, will you?” 

You nodded, and watched him pull Ellie over to the side in a conversation to quiet to hear even in the slowing rainfall. Your eyes distracted themselves with the dark leaves now encased in water with your arms wrapped around your front. Relationships confused you. 

Speaking of which, you were turned around to face Joel his hand on your hip and the other tilting your chin up to his height. Just as you expected, he didn’t beat around the bush. Just skipping straight to the point. “Anytime something’s almost happened to you, I can barley manage to do anything before you end it all yourself.” Deep brown eyes deep into yours. 

“It doesn’t exactly feel that way.” Hands without your permission, begin to find their way onto him. Not brave enough to settle anywhere you typically loved to hold, but palms lightly resting close to his stomach. 

Joel shook his head, eyes bright still and a half smirk forming before he pulled your chin close and captured your lips with his. Pulling you in by your hip he deepened the kiss with a trace of his tongue exploring your mouth. Separating you just as you yearned to reciprocate. 

Giving a full smile nearing adoration at the sight of your still closed eyes before you regained your senses. “You sure you don’t need glasses?” Your eyebrows raised in a total confused look and he only chuckled in response at it. “Because you are so fucking blind sometimes.” 

The warmth in your heart eased from painful to much more relaxing. “I’m still not used to this.” Your hands now closer to a usual spot near his collarbones. “Felling like I depend on someone they way I do you. Worried it makes me just a burden on top of everything you got.” 

Kissing your nose, Joel leans in as his mouth teases yours as his words brush against them. “Good. I want you to depend on me sometimes, sweetheart. I sure as hell depend on you. Ellie had to be the one to calm me down when I walked in and saw some blood on the floor and the knife. I damn well knew wasn’t hers.” 

His fingers left your chin and pulled you in by the back of your head, this time pulling your hips so your front pressed into his as much as it could before pulling away just as quick. Resting his forehead to yours. “We’re family. We depend on each other, and don’t think for a second I think less of you because you need me sometimes. I’d sure as hell need you if you left.”

Shaking his head he kissed you once more just as you tried to let out an apology, and pulled away just enough “Don’t be.” Before resuming the kiss. 

As easy it was for you to fall into his touch, Joel was just as weak. Your lips holding love instead of a panicked urgency the other night, your arms winding around his neck to rake gently through the hair you could reach. 

He didn’t really think about it much as he moved you backwards until your back was pushed up against a tree. The collide against the surface sparked something inside him. It wasn’t the time nor the place for this, but too much had happened. It wasn’t just your head that was storming with difficult, painful emotions.

His kiss all consuming, tongue demanding he explore yours as much as he raved, and only pulling way to bite at your lips before starting the process all over again. You had put him through enough, but maybe he deserved a different kind of apology than being left behind. 

The second your hands reached the top of his jeans, a needy groan fell from his lips as he changed directions to your neck. His teeth marking it up and down as he soothed each one with a kiss and brush of his tongue. The gentleness doing little good as his ravenous urge to mark you up also traced your skin with his facial hair, leaving a redness on his the harder he bit. 

He mumbled into your neck as he felt you undoing his belt, “Fuck, sweetheart, you don’t-”  only to be cut off with a moan as you kissed your way up to his ear trailing a path along his neck as well. 

“Let me take care of you. For once.” Before kissing the skin just under his ear as you undid the zipper. He leaned into your body as his grip on you no doubt would brighten the fingertip shaped bruises he already left before. 

Tugging his jeans just down enough to reach your hand inside your palm brushed against the coarse hair above his cock. Joel captured your lips once more with a bite right off the bat. Grinding his hips forward as you teased your way down with your fingers along the length of his cock. You didn’t have much room, so you traced the thick length down, down, down until you found his tip, stroking over it with a feather like touch. 

Joel knew you didn’t have enough room and separated from your lips. Eyes blasting dark and lustful, he raked his eyes up and down your body before snatching your hands, fingers joined together and raised them above your head. “You going to be good?” 

A nod was all he needed, to undo your own pants and yank them halfway down your thighs with one strong tug. Hardly giving himself the pleasure of looking at your bareness, he pushed himself back into you as kissed you. Wasting no time as his hand roughly cupped and squeezed your mound. 

Smirking at your gasp, the fingers just reaching your entrance teased dipping in before caressing just around where he wanted. The palm of his hand rubbed against your clit roughly until the sensitive bundle had you trembling against him. 

When he could take his time with you, Joel would take however long he desired to work you over, open you up and ease you into everything. But now, the warmth and growing wetness made him impatient. In one go he thrusted two thick fingers inside of you, eliciting a gasp of his name as your arms fell down to his shoulders, fisting the fabric there with no remorse for his earlier command. 

One of his hands reached for your throat, not restricting it, not even encompassing it, just holding the side of your throat firmly to rub his thumb over the length down to the top of your chest and back up. “Can never fucking listen to me, why do you make me do this, baby?” 

His only punishment though, was to thrust into you in tandem with the grinding of his palm into your clit. His fingers seeking the golden spot inside of you and smiling against your skin when you moaned out, hips writhing into his hand. Punishments to Joel meant nothing more than overwhelming you with pleasure.

The coiling in your stomach grew with how wet his thick fingers made you as they slid in and out. The sound of it even heard over the existing rain. But you wanted to make him feel good first, so you’d just have to disobey him a little more to treat him to it. Your hands on his shoulders moved to quick for him to catch it, grabbing at his jeans and pulling them down just enough to pull his cock out. 

One hand jumped right in, gathering what was already spilling from his tip and stroking it up and down his length, the other sneaking just a bit more and gently cupping his balls. It was Joel who writhed this time, “Fuck, you-” 

You stopped him with a kiss, pulling back just slightly as your hand slid up and down his length slowly, knowing how much it made his cock buzz with need, the other ever so slightly keeping his balls in your hand as you pulled your head back to lean against the tree. “This is supposed to be about you, let me help you, okay?” 

His jaw clenched as one hand left him, the other now just holding his cock firmly as you dragged his hand slowly away from you, letting the wetness on his fingers trail up your chest, holding it just above your tits and your other pulling his cock just enough between your legs. 

Not letting him in, but between your thighs. His eyes weren’t weak or even a hint of willing to give you control, but he still let you tease him just for now. Dragging his cock just enough to not slide inside you, but coating him with you. 

His head looking down to your hold, seeing his cock shining more as it was dragged between your wet folds. Only pulling it away enough to press his hip up against your clit as you continued to stroke his cock. Much easier now, the wet sound almost matching up to what he pulled from you. Only granting you his length, Joel moved a hand to reach behind and grasp your ass tight, and pulling your hips in more, forcing your clit to press up against the tip of his cock. 

His hold on your ass let him lift you onto your toes and increase the pressure on your clit and the whimpers that followed were music. Never really giving you control, he pushed his tip into you and pulled back. Never leaving your clit but easing and increasing the pressure against it. 

You wanted to focus on stroking his cock, but his other hand on your ass took control. The sensation of his fingers tapping along to the middle, and dragging down before stopping just against where he knows no one has ever touched you. 

You gasped his name, but he grinded himself into you more. “Shhh, I got you, sweet girl. You’re okay.” Not quite touching, but hovering over it until you felt you nod against him. “Out loud, baby, please.” Not a demand, but a soft beg of permission. 

You nodded with your words this time, “Anything, fuck, anything you want, please just-fuck”, his other hand had overtaken his cock, pressing yours against his hip beside as he dragged his cock from your clit down to your entrance, and back up to continue rubbing it against you, and then dragging back down to slick his cock up more. 

If you asked him later, Joel couldn’t tell you what was consuming him right now. He had almost lost you, and how you had the audacity to think he wanted you to leave. It made him almost angry. A burning sensation spreading from his chest all through his limbs. It was something akin to possessive, and he wanted to be easier on you. Ease you into something Joel hadn’t even thought about doing until this very moment. But it was the only thought he could focus on that wouldn’t send him back to memories of blood. So he lost himself in something he didn’t quite understand.

He was gentle behind you, very gentle. A tiny whimper leaving you as his index finger just rested against you, giving the same tiny rubs that he rubbed his tip into your clit with. Your body slightly tense, he only wanted you to feel relaxed. So he kissed you once more, not sparing any time as he opened your mouth up to let him in, keeping you only focused on his touch.

You gasped into his mouth, but Joel recognized that needy pleasure without failure. Joel never pushed his fingers inside, just pressed against you with occasional gentle caresses of the skin around it as if he needed to feel how much you leaned your body into him, or the sounds the teasing pulled from you. Your hands on him dragged all over but you whimpered in need, his name, and a please for more. 

His cock now sat heavy against your entrance, threatening to push in if he pulled back enough. But his other hand kept a slow rub. He knew your body scarily well, knowing that if he stopped or slowed too much, that you’d tense up on him, always just on the edge of nervous if he pushed you just a little more. 

Always afraid you’d disappoint him somehow no matter how much it frustrated Joel that you couldn’t stop thinking that.

His touch slid back and forth from teasing just outside of you, to a soft knead of the rest of your ass or hip. Not tight, not aggressive, almost soothing. For you, it enough that you leaned forward into his chest, head on his shoulder with one hand raking through his hair. His cock dragged back a bit, and he eased the tip of his cock barley inside you. “Look at me, sweet girl.” 

You expected him to be cool and collected, but he was anything but. His eyes dark and blazing with need, his mouth parted sightly and breathing heavy enough you felt it on your cheek. “This-” The stoke pulled a difficult gasp from you, but it was so much, too much but you didn’t want him to stop. You’d beg for more if you thought he’d give it to you but you still tried to explain yourself. “I wanted to make you feel good.” 

His teeth clenched as he lid just an inch more of his cock into you, his pace slow as he treasured how well you fit him. “This right here,” once again raking his eyes down you and back up. “You make me feel good.” 

Just as his cock slid inside you with a soaked ease, your arms wrapped around his neck as he swore out himself. His cock was always so thick, and it filled you so deeply, but something about this moment weighed on your heart much heavier than ever before. 

Joel dragged his cock in and out of you so much that he threatened to slip out every time, his finger no longer teasing your ass, but keeping himself his large hand splayed over the skin of your cheeks he could reach. 

The slower pace didn’t pick up, but when he was as deep he could be inside you, Joel would pull out of you less and less. You pulled both sides of his face into you to kiss him. 

It was just as deep as everything else he was inside of you, but not fast, not aggressive. He tasted your mouth just as slowly and intimately as his cock slid in and out of your warm walls. His thrusts never sped up, and you never asked him too. 

Neither of you kept track how long he has you pressed up against the tree, but it was long enough that the sky turned darker as the sun started to go down and the rain had stopped all together. 

Joel’s slow pace dragging right up against your walls, and the every present pressure of his finger deep inside of you, your orgasm built slower this time, but it made your body tingle so much more and you felt desperate at that point. 

“Let me have it sweet girl, I want it baby, fuck I want it, you’re so close,” You clenched against his cock and his name fell from your lips, your walls tight around the thick length, your entire body arched in pleasure as he slowly thrusted still, never stopping just sliding in and out of you to drag you along as much as possible. Everything inside of you bursting at once, all you could do was hold on to him.

His hold on your ass and hip tightened, his pace increased as he chased his own orgasm. The feeling of you in such an overwhelming way took over him as he sped up every thrust until he pace had his skin slapped more steady against yours. The sound of your skin against his mixed with the how much he could hear how wet you were around his cock kept his pace faster. Every thrust bringing the sounds to his ears and it didn’t take long until he lost himself. 

His teeth clenched and your nails raking through his hair, he pounded a few quick thrusts into you as his orgasm let go with your sweet voice in his ear, and your other hand reaching down to grasp one of his own ass cheeks, just enough to push his hips to sink into you faster. 

He fucked you at that pace as he came. He couldn’t not. Last night and now were the only times he’s ever came inside of you and Joel couldn’t tell you why. There was a feral part of his brain that became possessed at how well you let him fuck you. He thought he should have felt bad. He wasn’t actually a possessive man, but there was an unspoken intensity that overrode a part of his brain and left a desperation in it’s wake.

He spilled into you, more and more cum leaving as he kept fucking up into you needing that feeling those sounds as now the wetness mixed with his cum. You moved your hand up to his waist with gentle squeezes as he finally slowed down almost instantly. 

Panting, he looked to where he slid in and out of you, seeing with each pull how absolutely coated his cock was. Glistening from you, and covered white with his own cum and slowly pushed it back into you a few times before he stopped. 

You gently pressed your lips against his, everything about you felt weak now, but your sanity felt tied to his touch. Joel slowly eased out of you completely, having to look up at your face instead of his cum soaked cock. The tip of his nose rubbed along yours and each of you reached for each other. You tucking him back and doing his jeans and belt back up as he pulled your pants back and rubbed at the skin of your hips he could see from your raised shirt. 

Neither of you could say it yet, today was too much, this entire week had been too much. But Joel wasn’t in any doubt. “We work together from now on, you’ve got me, and I’ve got you. That’s all there is too it, sweetheart.” 

Maybe it’d get easier with time, your brain was quieter then it had been since a week ago that day, and put the pain at ease, filled only with here and now, and who you have. Guess Joel and Ellie weren’t about to let you go anytime soon, so you’d just have to repay the favour. 

You had plenty to work on but you at least had a new flicker of hope that having what could be a family might make it easier to do. You decided not to think about what Ellie didn’t know. Only time would get them there, and at least he had you. 

Joel knew he couldn’t keep it from her forever, not did he want to. Maybe in another universe he’d keep it so long she’d find out on her own, and that would tear her away from him more then Joel could bare, but he had you, and you understood not just how he felt about it, but you knew exactly how she felt about it too.

You all had each other and maybe he could make it through when that day comes together. 

Ellie was his daughter now, and you helped remind him of how much that means to him. He had been holding back for a while not to say it to you. 

It damn near slipped from his mouth the second he lost himself as you came around him. But it wasn’t time, the words meant everything to him, but he suspected they weren’t something anyone has ever said to you in your life. Even before hand, knowing enough about your previous life only made him more careful. Not to say it too fast or at the wrong moment, and to make sure you felt safe and belonging in this family you were all creating together. 

As you both made your way back, Joel stopped in place at one point, grabbing you by the hip and turning you to him. He rubbed right below your side as his heart melted at the softest you have looked in days. “You know....right?” 

Maybe Joel was along the same lines as you, you realized. Your shoulders rose as you took a deep breathe, taking a step forward. Your hand rubbing along the scruff on his cheek as you gave a tiny chaste kiss, only giving him a nod. 

That’s all that was needed for right now. He knew this turmoil inside of you wasn’t gone, but maybe now you’d let him support you in whatever way he could. He knew all to well what letting that pain build up for too long could do to you. It wasn’t something he wanted for anyone.

Joel smiled, and wrapped an arm around you, turning you forward once again to go home. Gracing the top of your head with a kiss, there was another burning question he just couldn’t stop in time from slipping out. “If I ask you to just hurry up and move in already, is that gonna be too much for one day?” 

This time you stopped in your tracks, but only long enough to drop your head in a breathe that turned into a laugh. You leaned into his touch. “I’ve got nothing left at my house that I need. Would be a pain to make you bring it all back there now, wouldn’t it?” 

“Why would I be the one having to do all the work?” The smirk on your lips all he got back.

You didn’t need to look at him to see his face flat and his eyes roll on cue. “Still got a long way to go with that attitude don’t we?” What you also didn’t need to see to know about was the double meaning to his words. This was more than just about teasing, or the physical part. What happened that day and now meant something more than just a few minor incidents to all three of you.

You’re not sure if you’ve ever seen Joel today the way he was, but maybe it was your fault for letting it build up to this. You knew it wasn’t just Joel pushing your limits for the sake of it. No, tonight was something new for both of you in a much more desperate emotional way. Like he needed you as close as possible and he worked you weak enough to let him. 

Sex wasn’t casual for you, and you were lucky Joel didn’t treat it as such. You didn’t know what to say a lot of the time, but he could read your touch like a book and you hoped he knew it was the same for you. Today wasn’t the right time or place, but it was the only thing that grounded you and Joel to the present in almost a week.

It was easier to express things through touch with him sometimes because of that. You both can struggle to open up, and almost losing you, only to have to sit back and watch not knowing how you would wake up. You can’t imagine what that felt like for him, and you’re not sure you want to. 

Having something akin to family was unusual, and would take some getting used to going forward. The pain, the memories, the demons toiling in you were still there. This feeling wasn’t going to go away, but maybe now it wouldn’t destroy you for it. 

Joel made it clear you can rely on him to be there for you, and you had a feeling he was going to need you in just a matter of time. He’s strong on his own, but you can only handle so much on the inside. 

Neither of you knew though, exactly what about that past day would come looking for him. 

[yvqip]

in honor of ch 261

The passing of the torch. The inability to grieve. A duty to kill protect. Is this what it means to be a sorcerer?

CW: angst, mentions of gore and death, just about what you’d expect, wip(?) bc i couldn’t bring myself to write anymore,

A collection of Yuta’s thoughts during the possession (+a bit of Suguru’s as he watches in the afterlife.)

The moment you died, something in the air changed. It was as if all that tension keeping everybody upright suddenly released into this all consuming dread. Lying there on the ground, split in two, was more than enough proof you really were closer to mortal than the god jujutsu society claimed you to be.

I’m sorry it took losing your humanity to make people realize you had any.

I’m sorry I have to do this to you.

If I could do it any other way, I would. I’m sure you understand that though, better than anyone else. You died on his anniversary too. I was only able to take a peak at who you were under the guise of ‘the strongest’, I don’t understand you nearly enough as he did but I’ve seen enough to know the burdens you carry. I know you missed him, I saw it in your face a year ago and I saw it again before your fight with Sukuna. I’m sorry you two didn’t get the peace you deserved even after death. I’m sorry you had to lose the only one who saw you as Satoru.

Standing there, facing that monstrosity, instilled a carnal fear into my bones, one that I couldn’t show in front of the audience you taught and guided. The audience I have to lead in your place as the new ‘strongest’.

Is this how you felt? A sacrificial lamb pushed to the forefront of battle for the reason of powers you had no role in choosing?

I do my best to hide the tremble in my hands as Shoko slices me open. I’m doing this for the others, to give them a better fighting chance, to honor the sacrifice you made for us- stealing away the fire from the heavens and granting us the opportunity to grow even more- offering yourself on a silver platter in exchange of our youth. You were chained to humanity, reduced to a weapon intended for us.

Were you able to see yourself as anything else after he died?

Although the fire is dwindling despite your efforts to maintain it, I understand you now, giving yourself as tinder to spark the next generation. I’ll become it in your stead. After all, I’m the strongest now too, and I’ll take care of the 1st and 2nd years just like you said.

Shoko finishes the last of the stitching.

I wonder how she feels witnessing her two best friends turned into husks, bodies desecrated by both sides of jujutsu society.

I’m back on the battlefield.

5 minutes to make this count.

I’ll make sure you and your best friend rest together soon. It’s the least I could do for you.

~

The scene before me is sickening. I can feel the bile build in the back of my throat despite my lack of a physical body.

How could they do this to you?

I had spent this time waiting patiently for you to arrive, only to be taken from me the moment you do. I never held any hatred for those in Jujutsu High, this was what they needed to do, and yet it disgusted me all the same.

Are you Satoru Gojo because you’re the strongest or are you the strongest because you’re Satoru Gojo?

I recall saying those very words that shook the foundation of your identity. I said it because I knew it would hurt you. I said it because I knew I was the only one who had ever held your heart in the palm of my hands. I said it knowing my existence was the only proof you were anything other than ‘the strongest’. I said it not believing it was true. Yet, as I witness your body be used as a puppet, I question if anybody else ever felt the same.

Did you die with me, Satoru?

Does any body else see you as just that? Did you exist to the world of jujutsu outside of your power? You’re still far ahead in terms of that, but you chose well with your students, especially that boy, Yuta Okkotsu. He’s like you, more so now than ever since he’s taken your place. They’ll eventually catch up to you.

We’ve failed to protect the youth again.

Seeing your corpse on the table as Shoko performed the operation brought me back to the day I lost part of you. You stood there, Riko’s body in your arms, your eyes devoid of the usual light within it just like now.

‘Suguru.. should we kill these guys?’

Thinking back on it, perhaps I should’ve said yes. We would’ve been on the run together- but we’d be together all the same. You would’ve never had to be Jujutsu society’s scapegoat, you would’ve never had to fight Sukuna.

It wouldn’t have had to end this way

Maybe I shouldn’t have left. My lofty goals were of near impossible height, one that only you could reach. But I had to try, damn it. If it took rebelling against the gods to do it, I’d have gladly held the weight of the world as punishment if it earned you freedom from being chained to the mountain of Jujutsu, forced to protect non-sorcerer scum. Those damned creatures don’t deserve our sacrifices- the effort we put in just to keep them safe while they unknowingly go through life not even knowing about the hell we went through for their sake.

But in the end, you were still my undoing. The reason my body is being used by that thing, the same reason it fought back against him. It was always you, wasn't it? I don't blame you, though. If it were the other way around, I wouldn't have been able to burn you either.

[hazbinsponsoredbyvee]

Aftermath

For anyone wondering, Alastor has officially returned to the hotel, but as a little treat, here's a short fic detailing what happened after the events of the other day's Truth or Dare.

I didn't spend a lot of time on this, but I wanted to show a bit of what happened between Vox and Alastor after they went to bed.

Vox was already lying in bed by the time Alastor emerged from the bathroom, changed into black lounge pants and a blue t-shirt that was just a bit too big on him. And holy shit, he looked adorable. That just wasn't fucking fair.

"You're staring," Alastor accused as he walked over to the right side of the bed, climbing under the covers.

"Well, I've never seen you wear anything but that stupid suit," Vox pointed out defensively.

"If it's so stupid, why have you modeled your look after it?" he asked, looking over at the television demon with a knowing smirk and a raised eyebrow.

He scowled. "Shut up," he grumbled, prompting Alastor to chuckle as he sidled closer to rest his head on his chest.

Vox stared down at him in shock, feeling his screen glitching a bit. Alastor was... cuddling him. For all their joking about it with those questions, he hadn't actually expected.... Tentatively, Vox brought his hand up around the Radio Demon's shoulders, thumb rubbing soft, tender circles against his arm.

They just laid there in silence for several minutes before Vox finally got the guts to speak up. "Al... you know, I... when I apologized earlier... I meant it."

Despite the fact that Alastor hadn't been moving, he still seemed to become even more still. "I know," he replied, his voice guarded. "I could tell."

Silence fell between them again and Vox sighed, looking off into the distance. "I've missed you," he murmured softly after a while.

"Yes, that was apparent."

"You... gonna say you missed me, too?" he asked hopefully.

"You're making quite the assumption there, old pal," Alastor chuckled lightly, and Vox scowled.

"Okay, see, it's shit like this that makes me say you're an asshole friend. You claim you gave a shit about me, but you've never once said anything to me that implies that you did. You talk as if my friendship was always such a fucking burden, as if I'm just pathetic. Do you know what that's like, when your opinion has always meant the most to me? Even now."

Alastor was quiet, and this time, Vox didn't see fit to break the silence. He let his hand fall away from Alastor's arm as he glared at the far wall.

Eventually, Alastor lifted his head, his expression unreadable as he looked into Vox's eyes. "I wouldn't have done this dance with you all these years if I didn't miss you, mon cher" he said softly, cupping the side of his screen in his hand.

Vox's breath caught in his throat. He had a sinking suspicion that his pupils had become hearts, and the amusement flickering in Alastor's face seemed to confirm that. And maybe it was the half bottle of rye he had drank that was emboldening him, but he leaned in closer. "Can I kiss you?" he breathed.

Slowly, after a second's hesitation, Alastor nodded.

Vox's hand came up to thread through Alastor's hair, and he searched the deer demon's face carefully for any misgivings as he closed the remaining space between them. When he didn't see any, he let his eyes slip closed as he kissed him.

He kept the kiss gentle and tender, and Alastor returned the pressure of his lips with an almost curious hum. Vox felt like he was floating. After a few moments, he flicked his tongue experimentally against Alastor's lips, and they immediately parted for him, allowing him to slip inside with a soft moan.

It wasn't too long before Alastor pulled away, his usual smile appearing perhaps a touch softer around the edges. "Don't expect much more from me right now, Vox. If we pursue this, I'll want to take it slow."

"Hey, that's fine," Vox immediately agreed, his heart soaring.

"Is it?" He arched an eyebrow at him. "You have never taken anything slow in your entire existence."

"Well, I'd do it for you," he muttered, looking down with a faint shrug. "You're worth it."

Alastor caught the bottom of his screen in his hand, directing his gaze back to him. "Then perhaps we can revisit this conversation." He brushed his lips softly over the smile that was spreading across Vox's screen before he returned his head to his chest. "Goodnight, Vox."

Vox swallowed thickly, carding his hand through Alastor's hair before gently rubbing the base of his ear. "Goodnight, Al."

[storiesofmyhead]

Gojo Satoru

Summary: Gojo Satoru x Sukuna's immortal sister, Yume.

Warnings: Sad, fluff, death

In a world where curses and jujutsu sorcery intertwined with the fabric of existence, power often meant everything. Gojo Satoru, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, had always lived at the pinnacle of this power, unmatched and unrivaled. However, there was one story that even he had never heard, a tale hidden deep within the annals of history, buried by time and forgotten by all except the few who dared remember. It was the story of Sukuna’s immortal sister.

Her name was Yume, and she had been a legend long before Sukuna's reign of terror. Unlike her brother, who was feared for his unmatched cruelty and strength, Yume was known for her grace, wisdom, and the terrifying power she held within. Her immortality wasn’t a gift but a curse, one bestowed upon her by the gods themselves as punishment for defying the natural order. She was ageless, bound to wander the world forever, watching as empires rose and fell, as the world changed, while she remained the same.

Yume had no desire for power, no craving for dominance like her brother. She sought peace, a way to end her eternal suffering, but she found none. Her presence was enough to twist reality, to make curses stronger, to bend the rules of life and death. This made her a target, a coveted prize for those who sought to use her for their own ends. But Yume was elusive, vanishing into the shadows of time, always a step ahead of those who pursued her.

It was in one of these fleeting moments, during the dawn of a new era of sorcery, that she encountered Gojo Satoru.

Gojo had always been curious about the legends that surrounded Sukuna. The more he learned about the King of Curses, the more intrigued he became by the stories of Sukuna’s sister. Most dismissed her as a myth, a ghost of the past, but Gojo knew better than to underestimate the power of legend. He could feel the weight of her existence in the world, a presence that defied the logic of sorcery.

His search for her led him to the ruins of an ancient temple, hidden deep within a forest that seemed to exist outside of time. The air was thick with an unnatural energy, a sensation that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Gojo pushed forward, his six eyes piercing through the veils of reality, until he reached the heart of the temple.

There, standing amidst the crumbling remains of what was once a grand sanctuary, was Yume. Her presence was ethereal, almost otherworldly, with long, flowing hair that seemed to shimmer with the light of a thousand stars. Her eyes, deep and endless, held a sorrow that had been etched into her soul over centuries.

“You’re not like the others,” she said, her voice soft, yet it carried the weight of her immortality.

Gojo smiled, his trademark arrogance showing. “I’ve been told I’m one of a kind.”

Yume regarded him with a mixture of curiosity and weariness. “Why do you seek me, Gojo Satoru? Do you not know that those who find me often regret it?”

“I’m not like most people,” Gojo replied, stepping closer. “I’m here because I want to know the truth. I want to know who you really are, why you’ve been hidden away for so long.”

Yume’s gaze softened, and for a moment, she seemed almost human. “The truth… it’s a heavy burden, one that has crushed many before you. Are you sure you wish to carry it?”

Gojo’s expression grew serious. “I’ve carried heavier burdens.”

Yume sighed, a sound filled with centuries of pain. “Very well. I will tell you my story.”

And so, under the twilight sky, Yume began to unravel the tale of her cursed existence. She spoke of her brother, Sukuna, and the horrors he had unleashed upon the world. She told Gojo of her own power, a force that could rival even Sukuna’s, but one that she refused to use for fear of becoming like him. She explained how she had been hunted by sorcerers, how they had tried to use her immortality to achieve their own twisted goals, and how she had fled from them, seeking only to live in peace.

Gojo listened intently, his usual bravado tempered by the gravity of her words. He realized that Yume was not just a figure from legend, but a living being who had suffered more than anyone could imagine.

“What do you want?” Gojo asked quietly when she finished.

“I want to be free,” Yume replied, her voice trembling slightly. “I want to break this curse and finally find peace.”

Gojo nodded slowly. “I can help you.”

Yume looked at him, hope flickering in her eyes for the first time in centuries. “How?”

“I’ll protect you,” Gojo said firmly. “We’ll find a way to break the curse together. You don’t have to be alone anymore.”

Yume was silent for a long moment, her gaze searching Gojo’s face for any hint of deception. But all she saw was sincerity, a determination that matched her own. For the first time in her endless life, she felt the possibility of hope.

“Thank you, Gojo Satoru,” she whispered, a tear slipping down her cheek. “You don’t know what this means to me.”

As the days turned into weeks, Gojo and Yume traveled together, seeking answers in ancient texts and forgotten places. Their bond grew stronger, a connection forged not just through their shared quest, but through an understanding of each other’s loneliness and pain. Gojo, who had always been alone at the top, found in Yume a kindred spirit, someone who understood the burden of power and the desire for freedom.

Yume, in turn, found solace in Gojo’s presence. His strength and confidence gave her hope, and his unwavering support made her believe that perhaps, just perhaps, she could escape her fate.

Their journey was fraught with danger. Curses and sorcerers alike sought to stop them, fearing the power they could unleash if they succeeded. But together, Gojo and Yume were unstoppable. They fought side by side, their powers complementing each other in a dance of light and darkness.

In the end, it was not some grand battle that brought them to their goal, but a quiet moment of realization. The curse that bound Yume was not one that could be broken by force, but by acceptance. She had to embrace her past, forgive herself for her perceived sins, and let go of the fear that had held her for so long.

And she did. With Gojo by her side, Yume confronted her past, faced her brother’s legacy, and chose to forgive herself. In that moment, the curse shattered, and for the first time in centuries, Yume felt the weight of her immortality lift from her shoulders.

She was free.

But freedom came at a cost. As the curse broke, Yume’s immortality faded, and she began to age, the centuries catching up with her in an instant. Gojo held her as she grew weaker, his heart breaking as he realized what was happening.

“Yume…” he whispered, tears filling his eyes.

“It’s alright,” she replied, her voice weak but filled with peace. “I’m finally free, Satoru. Thank you.”

And with that, Yume closed her eyes, a soft smile on her lips, and took her last breath in Gojo’s arms.

Gojo stayed with her until the end, his heart heavy with grief but also with a sense of fulfillment. He had done what he set out to do. He had given her the peace she so desperately sought.

As he buried Yume in the forest where they first met, Gojo made a silent vow to remember her, to keep her story alive so that she would never be forgotten. He knew that she would always hold a special place in his heart, a reminder that even the strongest among them needed someone to lean on.

And so, Gojo Satoru, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, walked away from the forest, his heart a little heavier, but his resolve stronger than ever. He had lost a companion, a friend, and perhaps something more, but he had gained a deeper understanding of the world, of life, and of the importance of connection.

Yume’s story might have been over, but Gojo’s was far from it. And as long as he lived, her memory would continue to guide him, a beacon of hope and strength in a world filled with darkness.

~~~

Yuji Itadori lay on the ground, his body still, but inside, something had shifted. Sukuna, the King of Curses, had taken over again, but this time, something was different—something beyond anyone’s understanding.

Gojo Satoru stood a short distance away, his sharp gaze focused on Yuji’s form. He could feel the shift, the subtle yet undeniable presence of something more. It wasn’t just Sukuna; something else had returned, something he had thought he would never see again.

Yuji’s body began to stir, and as it did, a familiar energy started to emanate from it—a presence that Gojo knew all too well. His heart skipped a beat, a mixture of disbelief and hope surging through him. It couldn’t be… could it?

Slowly, Yuji’s body lifted off the ground, and when his eyes opened, they weren’t just Sukuna’s crimson eyes of malice. They were also Yume’s deep, sorrowful eyes. The combination was eerie, a blend of Sukuna’s twisted grin and Yume’s serene grace.

“Satoru…” The voice that came from Yuji’s lips was a blend of Sukuna’s cruel tone and Yume’s gentle warmth.

Gojo’s breath caught in his throat. It was her. Somehow, Yume had returned, but she wasn’t alone. She was sharing a vessel with her brother, trapped once again in a situation she had never asked for.

“Yume?” Gojo’s voice was barely above a whisper, his usual confident demeanor cracking under the weight of the impossible situation.

“Yes,” Yume replied, her voice gentle and conflicted. “I’m back… but not as I was. Sukuna’s presence brought me back.”

A twisted chuckle escaped Sukuna’s lips—no, Yuji’s lips, but it was unmistakably Sukuna’s. “Surprised, Gojo? Seems my dear sister just couldn’t stay dead. What a family reunion.”

Gojo’s eyes narrowed, and without hesitation, he closed the distance between them. His hand gently cupped Yuji’s—no, Yume’s—cheek, and for a moment, the dark presence of Sukuna faded into the background, leaving only Yume’s soft expression.

“I thought I lost you,” Gojo said, his voice betraying the emotions he usually kept buried. “But you’re here… and I’m not letting you go again.”

Yume’s eyes glistened with tears, a stark contrast to the malevolent smirk that Sukuna’s influence forced onto her lips. “I don’t know how long I can stay like this,” she whispered. “He’s too strong… but for now, I’m here.”

Gojo’s protective instincts kicked in immediately. He could feel Sukuna lurking, waiting for an opportunity to seize control again, but he wouldn’t allow it. Not this time. Not when Yume was back in his life, even if it was under these dire circumstances.

“You’re not going anywhere without me,” Gojo declared, his voice filled with a mix of determination and affection. “I won’t let him take you away again.”

Sukuna’s laughter echoed in their minds, but Yume’s soft smile, though forced, was enough to push the dark energy back for now. “I’ll stay with you, Satoru,” she said, her voice laced with both resolve and fear.

From that moment on, Gojo rarely left Yume’s—Yuji’s—side. The others at Jujutsu High noticed the change in him, the way his carefree attitude had shifted into something more serious, more protective. They saw how he stayed close to Yuji, how his gaze softened whenever Yume’s presence emerged, even if it was fleeting.

Days turned into weeks, and Gojo’s protective nature only intensified. He shielded Yume from every danger, never allowing her to be alone, always keeping Sukuna’s influence at bay. He fought with a ferocity that none of his students had ever seen before, a determination born not just from his duty as a jujutsu sorcerer but from his deep, unspoken feelings for Yume.

Yume, for her part, was torn. She wanted to stay with Gojo, to find solace in his presence, but she knew that Sukuna’s power was too strong. She feared what he might do, how he might use her against those she cared about. Yet, whenever Gojo was near, she felt safe, even if it was just for a moment.

“Satoru,” she said one evening as they sat together in a quiet corner of the school. The moonlight streamed through the windows, casting a soft glow over them. “You can’t keep doing this… you can’t protect me forever.”

“I can and I will,” Gojo replied, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’ll find a way to free you from him. I won’t let him win.”

Yume looked at him, her heart aching. She wanted to believe him, to trust that he could somehow save her, but the reality of their situation weighed heavily on her. “What if you can’t? What if he takes over completely?”

Gojo’s eyes, usually so full of mischief, were serious, determined. “Then I’ll fight him. I’ll fight him until there’s nothing left of him. I’ve faced worse odds before, Yume. I won’t lose you again.”

Yume’s tears fell freely now, her emotions too overwhelming to contain. She leaned into Gojo, letting herself be held by him, even as she felt Sukuna’s presence lurking in the background, waiting for his chance to strike.

But for now, in this moment, she was with Gojo. And for both of them, that was enough.

As the night wore on, Gojo held Yume close, his arms wrapped around her protectively. He knew the road ahead would be difficult, that Sukuna wouldn’t give up easily, but he didn’t care. As long as Yume was by his side, he would fight with everything he had.

He would protect her, no matter the cost.

And somewhere deep within Yuji’s mind, Sukuna watched with a twisted grin, biding his time, knowing that the game was far from over. But even he couldn’t deny the strength of the bond between Gojo and Yume. It was a bond that would make the coming battle all the more interesting.

For now, though, Sukuna would wait, watching and learning. Because even the King of Curses knew that in this game of power and love, there were still pieces left to move, and the outcome was anything but certain.

~~~

The days at Jujutsu High grew increasingly tense as Gojo Satoru continued his relentless quest to separate Yume from Sukuna’s grasp. Yume's presence within Yuji's body was fleeting and fragile, a flickering light overshadowed by Sukuna's dark energy. But Gojo refused to give up, his mind working tirelessly to find a way to bring Yume back fully—to give her the life she deserved, separate from her brother’s malevolent influence.

Gojo’s research led him deep into ancient texts, forgotten rituals, and the rarest of cursed techniques. He spent sleepless nights poring over scrolls and consulting with the few sorcerers who possessed the knowledge he sought. The idea of bringing Yume back to her original body, buried in the forest where they had first met, was a thought that never left his mind. But such a feat required immense power and precision, and even Gojo knew the risks were high.

Yet, the thought of Yume’s smile, of her being free from Sukuna’s shadow, was enough to push him forward. He would do anything to see her truly alive again.

One evening, after another exhausting day of battles and teaching, Gojo felt a surge of determination. He had gathered everything he needed—the right incantations, the precise location of her body, and the immense amount of cursed energy required to make it all happen. There was no more time to waste. Yume had been trapped for too long.

“Yume,” Gojo whispered as he approached Yuji, who was resting in his dorm room. The soft glow of the setting sun filtered through the window, casting a warm light on Yuji’s face. Gojo could sense her presence, faint but there, overshadowing Sukuna’s ever-watchful eye.

Yuji’s eyes opened, and for a moment, Yume’s gentle gaze met Gojo’s. “Satoru…” Her voice was soft, filled with both hope and fear. “What are you planning?”

Gojo’s expression was serious, but his eyes held a tenderness that was reserved only for her. “I’ve found a way to bring you back, Yume. To give you your own body again.”

Yume’s breath caught in her throat. The thought of being free, of no longer being bound to Sukuna, was something she had longed for but never truly believed possible. “Is it… really possible?”

Gojo nodded, his confidence unwavering. “It won’t be easy, and it’s risky, but I believe it can work. I just need you to trust me.”

Yume hesitated, her mind racing with a thousand thoughts. She had always trusted Gojo, but the fear of the unknown, of what could go wrong, gnawed at her. Yet, as she looked into his eyes, filled with determination and love, she knew she had to take this chance. “I trust you, Satoru,” she whispered.

Gojo smiled, a rare, genuine smile that reached his eyes. “Good. Then let’s do this.”

That night, under the cover of darkness, Gojo led Yuji—led Yume—to the forest where her body was buried. The forest was quiet, the air thick with anticipation. The moon hung low in the sky, casting an ethereal light over the ancient trees, and the atmosphere crackled with energy.

Gojo had prepared the area meticulously. He had drawn intricate symbols around the grave, using a mixture of his own cursed energy and the knowledge he had gleaned from the ancient texts. Everything was in place. Now, it was up to him to make it work.

As they stood by the grave, Gojo turned to Yume. “This might feel strange, but I need you to focus. I need you to hold on to who you are, to your essence. Don’t let Sukuna interfere.”

Yume nodded, her resolve strengthening. She could feel Sukuna stirring, his dark presence attempting to push her back, but she fought against it, holding on to Gojo’s words.

Gojo began the ritual, his voice steady as he chanted the ancient incantations. The ground beneath them started to tremble, and the symbols around the grave glowed with a soft, otherworldly light. Gojo’s cursed energy surged, wrapping around Yuji’s body, pulling at the essence of Yume within.

For a moment, it seemed as though nothing was happening. But then, Yume’s presence began to shift. Slowly, her spirit separated from Yuji’s body, drawn towards the grave where her original body lay. Sukuna’s influence roared, trying to pull her back, but Gojo’s energy pushed him away, creating a barrier that he couldn’t penetrate.

As Yume’s spirit moved towards her body, the ground split open, revealing her resting place. The sight of her body, preserved by some ancient magic, was both beautiful and heartbreaking. She looked just as she had before—young, serene, untouched by time.

Gojo’s energy enveloped her, guiding her spirit back to her body. There was a moment of tension, a final struggle as Sukuna tried to regain control, but Gojo’s power was too strong. With a final surge of energy, Yume’s spirit fully entered her body, and the connection was made.

The light around the grave intensified, and then, in an instant, it faded, leaving only the soft glow of the moonlight. For a moment, everything was still. Gojo held his breath, his heart pounding in his chest.

Then, slowly, Yume’s body began to move. Her chest rose and fell with the first breath she had taken in centuries. Her eyes fluttered open, revealing the same deep, soulful gaze that Gojo had missed so much.

“Satoru…” Yume’s voice was soft, but it was her own, free from Sukuna’s influence.

Gojo dropped to his knees beside her, his eyes wide with a mixture of relief and disbelief. He gently took her hand, feeling the warmth of her skin, the realness of her presence. “Yume… you’re really here.”

Yume sat up slowly, her movements tentative as she adjusted to being in her own body again. She looked at Gojo, a smile spreading across her face, and without thinking, she threw her arms around him, holding him close. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “Thank you for bringing me back.”

Gojo wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly as if afraid she might disappear again. “I told you I wouldn’t let him win,” he murmured, his voice filled with emotion he rarely showed.

For a long time, they stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, savoring the moment that neither of them had believed possible. Yume was back, truly back, and Gojo couldn’t have been happier. She was young again, just as she had been before she died, and the sight of her brought a warmth to Gojo’s heart that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

But even as they embraced, Gojo’s protective instincts remained on high alert. He had Yume back, but he knew that the world they lived in was dangerous, filled with enemies who would seek to harm her, to use her once more. He wouldn’t let that happen. From this moment on, Gojo vowed to keep Yume safe, no matter what.

“You’re not going anywhere without me,” Gojo said softly, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

Yume smiled, her heart swelling with affection for the man who had done the impossible to bring her back. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

And so, with Yume now by his side in her own body, Gojo Satoru prepared to face whatever challenges lay ahead. Together, they would navigate the dangers of their world, their bond stronger than ever. And no matter what came their way, Gojo knew one thing for certain—he would protect Yume with everything he had, for as long as they both lived.

If you liked this story Buy me a Coffee ;)

[myseungsunglove]

Life’s not Easy | Hjs

Pairing: Han Jisung x reader

Warnings: none, really. Maybe a tad bit angsty, but honestly just real.

Word Count: 570

𖠫Summary: You understand what Han needs more than anyone really has before. He can be 100% himself with you and you just get it.

✎WIP✎: I’ve got a few things going:

The Art of Meeting - Chan x reader - The master of Flirting Pt. 3 - The reader and Chan are finally going to meet! — I’m thinking this may be a little delayed. Not sure I can get it out this week.

What do you even know - Seungmin x noona!reader - the reader falls for Seungmin over the course of many years but figures he could never feel the same way about someone three and a half years older than him.

Holding You - a potential Seungmin or Han x reader story with no particular plot yet

The Desire to Connect - Prologue to “The Master of Flirting” - this would be a Chan POV story of how he noticed the reader in bubble and finally decided to reach out to her on instagram where our story “The Master of Flirting” started.

A/n: when I’m sleepy, ideas flow. Sometimes they’re good. Sometimes they’re bad. I don’t know what this is, but maybe someone out there will enjoy it.

◠ ◡ ◠᭚ιαᵕ̈

「© August 27, 2023 by mysweethannie」

If Han had learned anything in his short 23 years of life, it was that life was not easy. Very few people truly understood what he meant when he said that. They were on the outside looking in and from there, why would someone like Han Jisung believe that life was not easy? From an outsider’s perspective, he had it made. Talent flowing out of everything he did, wild raging success, a group that loved him like family, fans that adored him. What could be so hard about that?

You were the first person to really see Han. To really make him feel like he couldn’t hide behind his heart shaped smile and warm belly laugh. He couldn’t fool you like he did so many others. And boy did he try.

It’s not that you were always looking for a problem where there wasn’t one. It was just that you saw the loneliness and the burden where others did not. You saw how sometimes, not always, there was an emptiness behind the jovial smile. Han so often brought a room to life, but he was doing that for everyone else. It was rarely for him. He never put himself first.

So, you stood in his stead, putting him first where he failed to. When he would leave the recording studio after a day of being on the entire time, he could come home to you, not say a word and just lay in your arms. He didn’t have to recall every detail of every minute if he didn’t want to and you never felt neglected or left behind as a result. You understood the need to completely disconnect, so often you’d both lay in peaceful silence after a long day, Han’s arms wrapped around you or vice versa and just exist. You’d sometimes sing to him, maybe something you’d been working on for your next release, or something that you knew he loved. Other times, you’d put on Howl’s and let it play in the background while you both drifted off to sleep.

Some days he’d come home and he’d immediately kiss you hard, his tongue and body telling you everything he needed without words as he pressed himself against you as if he was trying to melt into you. You were his safe place, and sometimes connecting with you after a day away from you was his best medicine. His tongue would push into your mouth, his need to taste you desperate. He’d whimper and moan as he kissed you, all the while in complete control until he had you moaning beneath him. He may not be in control in so many other ways, but here with you, that control he needed desperately especially on those days that life felt like it was spiraling. So you’d give him all the control. You trusted him and he trusted you.

Other days still, he’d come home, jovial and talkative and you could tell it wasn’t just for show but it was genuine. These days were often, but they weren’t always. They were mixed with all of the other days because at the end of the day, Han was still human. No one ever felt 100% on all the time. He understood that about you and you understood that about him. It’s why you worked so well together.

Life’s not easy but with you by his side, it sure becomes a lot more bearable.

[readythefanons]

2.5 minutes of kim being a hater about magic and teleportation

Kim voice lines + music

Duration: 2:28

Kim voice lines from GrandFrance on YouTube (link)

Music: “Future” by Ilya Myagkov from Pixabay

Put together in Audacity

More funky audios with DE voice lines + audio like this please!

comments and transcript below the jump

(screm) This one is just… It exists solely to make me smile. I think it is very funny. Kim being an absolute hater about magic and the supernatural and teleportation… (chef’s kiss) I hadn’t appreciated how many lines he has about the supernatural he had before this. GOD.

Obviously, this piece was composed with the “you just climbed the ladder!” line in mind. Everything else got pulled into make that possible. This is also a piece where I swapped out the music halfway through.

Fun fact: the teleportation sound is actually two sound effects layered over each other, to give it that slow, dramatic build and then the sudden arrival. Kim’s SFX is just one singular effect, though.

I actually love this one so much that I’ve shared it with another human person—I played it for my partner one time because I was so pleased.

My only negative association with this piece is that I thought Kim said, “You just climbed it like a normal person.” I’m sad he doesn’t use those exact words because in my heart, Harry’s reply is “Ah-ha, you said I’m normal.”

==transcript==

We should continue our search, perhaps even get a little desperate.

So, how do we get in there?

Perhaps you can climb them. We're not climbing anything. I'm 43 years old -- and I plan to live to see 70.

Good, good, yes. Cold spells.

Of course. Black magic. The most potent type of magic.

Which school do you subscribe to? Mambo or jambo?

Hangovers do give officers superpowers. Many drink only to receive… the gift.

I didn’t know that was even possible. It must be a great burden.

All the detectives from all the Precincts who experience extrasensory perception go to the Remote Viewers Division. Their work is invaluable to the force.

No. Because they don’t exist. There is no “gift.”

(sigh)

Teleportation is not a thing.

We are dealing with basic physics here. This really has nothing to do with adventure.

Okay, let's say teleportation is a thing. Wouldn't you need some kind of... scientific apparatus to create a teleportation field? You can't just do it without apparatus.

Wow, a real intellectual, it sounds like.

No, detective. The only reading I’ve been doing is right here.

No.

That ladder is not climbable.

Oh, yes, it could hurt a lot.

Honestly? I prefer non-acrobatic solution to this. But… what else can we do?

What do you mean, “Feel?”

Yeah, that doesn’t look good at all.

Please, don’t try to climb the building. There has got to be another, more age-appropriate way in.

Enough of that now, officer.

What the hell are you doing?

Zoom! Bam!

You know, for the record, you didn't teleport there! You just climbed the ladder with your eyes closed. You just climbed it, like a regular person.

Ah… fuck it.

zap

No need to be melodramatic.

Who knows, detective? it’s a… mystery.

[zhongrin]

swirl & crystallize

◇ characters ◇ (no romantic pairing) zhongli, xiao, kazuha, shinobu

◇ tags ◇ no pairing, tag game(-ish) but feel free to ignore the tag :3

◇ tagging ◇ @seelestia | @dawndelion-winery | @the-travelling-witch | @hiraya-rawr | @silkjade | @intothegenshinworld | @watatsumiis | @merzkihstuff | @astrxlis | @w4yf1nder | @thesparklingwriter | @kazuily + everyone in the taglist! (but to reiterate: no pressure!!)

◇ a/n ◇ happy new year! i'm starting a new tag game just because lol (any writers or artists welcome)

pick one (or more, if you want) of your existing teams and tell me all about them!

how are the dynamics between each character? do they work well as a team outside of battles? who is the mom friend and who is the dad friend? are they a friendly, tight-knit group, or are they hostile to each other? (optional) what would be their voice lines about each other as teammates?

ps. feel free to include your self-insert or oc in the team as the 'fifth character' if you want!

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

team: xiao, kazuha, zhongli, shinobu

✧— xiao ⇄ kazuha

xiao appreciates the way kazuha doesn't try to intrude his space and how he manages to sense whenever the yaksha wants to be left alone.

kazuha on the other hand is pretty neutral about xiao. mostly he appreciates the way the demon conqueror always protects the whole team, and so the ronin tries to include him in everything.

the team probably accidentally discovered that kazuha’s leaf-playing ability makes xiao relax, so the wandering samurai takes it upon himself to do it every now and then whenever things are calm and xiao is within the vicinity.

honestly, i think they get along very well despite not interacting that much on the surface.

xiao → “about kazuha“

“that wandeing samurai from inazuma? he’s… alright. polite. although the way he speaks took a while to get used to. the leaf flute? hmph…. i… suppose, it is quite relaxing.”

kazuha → “about xiao”

“a selfless protector blessed by the anemo archon himself. the winds around him are quite volatile, but i find that they would turn tranquil whenever a melodic tune dances in the air. as zhongli-sensei suggested, i’ve taken to the habit of playing the leaves more often as we wind down for the day.”

✧— xiao ⇄ zhongli

probably is the closest relationship within the team. calm grandpa and feral surrogate son

zhongli is generally caring towards everyone in the team but he has a special soft spot for xiao - always pulling him back whenever things look bad on the battlefield.

(omg can you imagine zhongli picking up xiao by his scruff like he's a feral cat and flinging him out of harm’s way lmao-)

xiao knows he doesn’t have to worry about zhongli on the battlefield too, so that’s a huge burden off his shoulders.

xiao → “about zhongli“

“what more is there to be said? i am just honored that i am able to fight alongside morax again.”

zhongli → “about xiao”

“i’m glad you invited the young adeptus to travel with you. many times i have tried to persuade him to take some rest for a change of pace, but he never listened. please, indulge my curiosity; how did you manage to convince him to come along?”

✧— xiao ⇄ shinobu

neutral. they’ve already met in the chasm before, so shinobu knows about xiao’s self-sacrificing tendencies.

since shinobu is also smart and attentive - she knows when to put her foot down but also to leave xiao to his own devices.

xiao sees her as a reliable teammate.

mutual respect plays a huge part in this relationship, and while they’re not particularly close, they’re both comfortable with how it is!

xiao → “about shinobu“

“the electro wielder? she’s okay. responsible. i respect her.”

shinobu → “about xiao”

“i wouldn’t say that we’re close. but i am thankful that we have someone who is experienced in dealing with and efficiently fighting off dangerous monsters. although… this might be a rude thing to say to an enlightened being, but how can he fight so recklessly without an ounce of care for his own safety? i don’t mind patching him up, of course - boss is just as reckless as he is - but sometimes i just wish he would snap out of that selfless mindset already.”

✧— kazuha ⇄ zhongli

kazuha is intrigued and curious because he can somehow sense that zhongli isn’t exactly… normal? surely no normal man can make the last yaksha in teyvat himself bow down to his knees or speak so respectfully?

zhongli is thankful to kazuha for keeping xiao company and appreciates the way he always attentively listens to his stories.

they bond over literature and share their experiences. very wholesome dynamics.

kazuha → “about zhongli“

“there’s something about zhongli-sensei that i can’t explain... you know who he actually is, don’t you? haha, don’t look so surprised. it really is quite obvious. the demon conqueror reveres him, the wind respects him, and the soil thrums in his presence. though i am not privy to the details, i can sense that he’s not just a ‘funeral parlor consultant from liyue’. don’t worry; you don’t have to tell me anything. everyone has their own secrets, and i can respect that.”

zhongli → “about kazuha”

“an interesting fellow, that child. very attuned to nature itself. after hearing the stories of his travels and hardships, it occurs to me that his vision truly suits him; a wandering bird flying from one branch to another. i’m also very grateful that he managed to befriend xiao.”

✧— kazuha ⇄ shinobu

they naturally bond with each other over time. since they’re both inazumans, that makes them feel inclined to start talking to each other.

actually, given some time, i can even see them becoming friends!

shinobu pulls kazuha out of potential troubles and kazuha watches over shinobu to make sure she doesn't overwork herself.

a sibling-like relationship. lovely.

kazuha → “about shinobu“

“of course, i’m happy to have a fellow countryman on our travels! shinobu knows a lot of things and is more than happy to tell me what happened while i was away from inazuma, and what has changed since then. she makes for a good drinking company too; our taste in sake seems to match!”

shinobu → “about kazuha”

“well, at least he’s a lot more manageable than boss. still, i really don’t understand how someone could be so… spontaneous and unbound. one moment he’s sitting on a tree branch watching the clouds, the next moment he’s using his anemo powers to climb some cliffs - goodness, did you know he almost broke a leg three days ago?”

✧— zhongli ⇄ shinobu

the “parents” of the group, really. do i even need to say more?

keeps everyone out of trouble, very level-headed people who just want the best for the whole team and know that they can trust each other in this endeavor.

there’s just this one little misunderstanding, though (if you could even call it that)…

zhongli → “about shinobu“

“ah, the young lady is a mature and kind individual. have you seen her fuss around kazuha and xiao? i find the sight quite endearing. she has even asked me if my joints were okay when we hiked the mountains in sumeru the other day…... hmmm. in hindsight, perhaps i should not have answered with ‘older than your parents' when she asked me about my ‘real age’....”

shinobu → “about zhongli”

“i understand that you needed someone experienced in life and all in this expedition, but you really shouldn’t have asked an elderly person to tag along in such dangerous activity. hm? why are you looking at me like that? didn’t you know? i mean, i would have never guessed it from his youthful appearance either. i have heard that liyueans tend to look younger than their actual age, but even now i can barely believe that zhongli-sensei is that old. honestly, i’m still surprised he could still be so agile in combat.”

© zhongrin | 2022 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

◇ taglist ◇ @thestarsofenkanomiya | @genshinparty | @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sophiethewitch1 | @why-am-i-here-someone-save-me | @sunnshineflxwer | @heartonthemoon | @yuutasbabe | @percyval-archives | @carbs-need-more-love | @rebeccka | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @herdrops | @marina-and-the-memes | @angryhope | @mixed-kester | @shuangxo | @fiannee | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @ladylofspades | @sup-zfam | @ansy-tea

[priestfrommidnightmass]

regarding me recovering from my situationship for all those invested:

i know judging by my posts a few days ago it may seem like i am Very Unwell (and don’t get me wrong i very much DID need to get all of those feelings out and it WAS really intense for me and i’m not going to pretend like it wasn’t or anything like that. like i WAS feeling all that.) HOWEVER. now that i’ve had a few days to recover and really think abt it and process it all, i do genuinely believe that moving on is going to be Much easier than i ever would’ve expected it to be. if you were to ask me a few months ago (fuck even a few days ago bro 😭) i would’ve said it was fr Impossible. but honestly i feel so… free is the only word i can think to describe it lol. a part of me is kinda fully able to appreciate what our relationship actually Is for the first time now that i have my questions answered of what it is. it’s not weighed down by the burden of the hope/expectation of something more like i’m able to actually appreciate our closeness and the fact that he’s been so endlessly loving with me entirely without the ulterior motives of trying to get with me or anything yknow? like i’ve always known we were good friends but i’ve never fully grasped how wonderful our Friendship really is and a lot of pressure has been lifted tbh 😭 before i used to overthink every single interaction and now i’m able to just exist around him and enjoy his presence fully. he’s always meant so much more to me than whatever fantasy ideas i quietly hoped for so letting go of this One part of it is like. nothing in the long run whatsoever. honestly the thing i was most afraid of is that our conversation would affect us being able to be close for a while/forever and that it would be weird to be around him at any point but honestly it’s so far from that 😭 if anything it makes it a lot easier since the truth is out there and i’m no longer being weird bc i’m keeping a secret yknow. now we can just exist and enjoy each others company and it’s honestly kind of awesome. you may be thinking boy it’s not that serious but it really is to me. like he’s honestly one of the greatest friends i’ve ever had that i get to see in real life and especially one that’s a guy like it’s one of the most fulfilling and validating relationships i’ve ever had. all that to say: i’m good guys 🙏 i just needed to be dramatic for a second i’m glad i got it all out and i appreciate so many people being so supportive of my insane posting journey. a part of my feelings for him will probably always be there at least a little bit but not to the point where it’s debilitating or life ruining like it was 😭 it might seem like a very drastic switch but honestly our talk was kinda all i needed to help me get over it and i’ve now realized i’m not losing anything which i don’t think fully clicked before so i’m actually doing really well. so what if we never fucked whatever we still have is much more bizarre

[prince-of-elsinore]

4 povs fic!!

Ok! So that is my languishing MASH wip. It's post-canon, a couple years after the war, and the main pairing is beejhawk of the mutual-pining type (although there is a surprise other past pairing as well). 4 povs is because I planned one chapter each from the perspective of BJ, Peg (BJ's wife), Hawkeye, and Daniel (Hawkeye's dad). (So far only BJ's and Peg's sections are complete.) It takes place over the course of one evening, night, and morning full of revelations and reminiscences that cause the characters to reevaluate their relationships.

I got the idea for the fic after watching a production of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof and seeing a lot of parallels between Brick, the closeted husband, and BJ. I wanted to write a confrontation like the one between Big Daddy and Brick, where Big Daddy makes (surprisingly nonjudgmental) insinuations about Brick's relationship with his late best friend. Brick is torn apart by the accusation and tries to deny it:

BRICK: Normal? No!–It was too rare to be normal, any true thing between two people is too rare to be normal. Oh, once in a while he put his hand on my shoulder or I’d put mine on his, oh, maybe even, when we were touring the country in pro-football an’ shared hotel-rooms we’d reach across the space between the two beds and shake hands to say goodnight, yeah, one or two times we– BIG DADDY: Brick, nobody thinks that that’s not normal! BRICK: Well, they’re mistaken, it was! It was a pure an’ true thing an’ that’s not normal.

I mean! Is that not so very BJ and Hawkeye?? Anyway, that gave rise to a fic where BJ has been trying, like Brick, to numb the pain of a sexless marriage and separation from Hawkeye with alcohol. BJ's parents are over for dinner, BJ gets quite drunk, and everything unravels:

****preview****

B.J.’s mouth opens. He closes it. “You seem to know more about my marriage than I’ve told you.” He looks at Peg, whose hand is shielding her eyes in mortification.

“For God’s sake, B.J.!” his father goes on. “You’re a civilian now. Your place is with your wife and child.”

“Who said it’s not?” he says petulantly. He feels ambushed and contrary.

“You need to believe it with your heart.”

“Trust me, I’m not secretly yearning for the rats and fleas of Uijeongbu,” he sneers.

“That’s not what I’m talking about.”

“Well, what are you talking about then? I’m on tenterhooks, Dad.” Anger prickles at his skin, pounds in his skull. He needs to reel it back or he won’t be able to stop. But it feels so good to open the valves. It’s been festering too long. This dark, hot thing, this fury, at all of them, expecting him to slip back into the life he had before the war as if he could possibly fit, as if the very shape of him hasn’t changed. They don’t care about who he is, who he’s become. They want the old B.J. back. Get in line, he thinks. The only person not clamoring for that old B.J., good ol’ good tempered get-along B.J., is on the other side of the country. And B.J.’s managed to drive even him away.

“All right, then.” His father’s face is deadly serious. Suddenly B.J. second guesses his challenge. “What happens in war, between soldiers…that’s foxhole comfort. You wouldn’t be the first man to need it, and you won’t be the last. But it’s time to wake up. You’re not in the foxhole anymore.”

B.J.’s mouth opens. He drops his gaze to his fork. He wonders how much he’d have to drink before he could stab it into his hand and not feel a thing.

“You think I’m a queer.” It slips from his brain to his mouth before he can stop it.

Peg makes a small noise. Bea’s hand jumps to the small silver cross around her neck. Even his father has the decency to look chagrined.

B.J. is as shocked as them. It’s not a word he uses. It’s a medical condition, and B.J. is a man of medicine. He prides himself on his tolerance, his willingness to treat anyone who comes to him for help. He knows homosexuals exist, and he’s never been fussed about it. He’s sympathetic, even—everyone’s got their own burden to carry in this life. But that’s not his burden.

“I didn’t say that,” says Jay cautiously. “One indiscretion—”

B.J. barks an ugly laugh. “You think, Hawkeye and I—you think we—indiscretion—”

“Now, calm down, son—”

“Who put that idea in your head?” B.J. glares at his father. Even as the words leave him he knows the answer. He turns to his wife. She won’t look at him. “Peg?” he asks. The numb unreality of the situation is draining away, leaving nothing but the anger. “You think I’m a queer?”

Peg closes her eyes. “B.J.,” she whispers. “I don’t want to have this conversation in front of your parents—”

B.J. is slamming his fork down on the table before he’s conscious of the urge to do it. He shoves his chair back and stands. If he stays in this room he’s going to lose it. He steps towards the hallway.

“So you deny it?” his father booms behind him. “If you’re not a—a queer—give me one good reason to believe you!”

That word, from his father’s lips, cuts through B.J. like a scalpel. He spins around. “Nothing happened between me and Hawkeye! Nothing!” The windowpanes ring with the force of his denial. “You don’t know the first thing about me and Hawkeye! How could you? You weren’t there! You don’t know what it was like! Living the way we did. If you can call it that. It wasn’t life. It wasn’t anything. And the only reason I’m still here is because of him.” His throat is torn raw but he keeps going. “And you think—just because two men—love each other, and need each other—? You’re the one who’s sick!”

His father regards him from behind the fortress of his wizened face. “Then why haven’t you slept with your wife in a year?”

The calm accusation, the certainty behind it, knocks the wind from B.J.’s lungs. He clutches the back of his chair for support. He wants to scream, stamp his feet like a child in the face of his father’s implacable will. His father won’t back down, not till B.J. bends or breaks entirely. And in front of his mother. In front of his wife. He’s never felt so humiliated and small.

“B.J.,” Peg ventures. As if speaking to a spooked horse. “Let’s finish this conversation later—”

“You told them I was a queer.” It rips from his chest in a vicious whisper.

“B.J., please—”

“You told them I was a queer!” It’s not a whisper anymore. It’s a howl. “You told them I was a queer!” He bends double over his chair.

Peg is crying. B.J.’s vision blurs and he realizes he is, too. But he can’t stop and he can’t hold back. “You told them I—you—you told them—you told them,” he wails. “You told them…”

He hears himself. He knows how it sounds. He doesn’t have the strength to deny it.

****end preview****

Thanks so much for the ask!

[sweagen]

Working on a crazy theory BUT—

Man and woman: no more

Trans people are God’s pilot

To show that people can do both, and live a life more in-line with their identity

ALSO, trans people have always been around and existing in history, there have always been people who don’t fit neatly into the gender binary. In past generations, people just kinda embraced the unique aspects of themselves but still just lived their life as their assigned gender at birth and fit in as best as they could

It’s just finally becoming known and recognized as a ‘thing!’ For people to be able to discover the gender of their soul.., and be able to live their gendered life out in the world, as they have chosen? That is a great boon, it’s a freedom and a kindness that should be available to all …at least to be able to explore and understand themselves! And I think I might be trans… but it’s a side of myself I never wanted to acknowledge in any significant way before now. I’ve lived my IRL life as a man for 29 years. I’ve struggled to understand and develop my identity and live in the world as a man.

I’m not unfamiliar with other ways of being tho.., Once s*xuality finally clicked into place I was okay!!!! Most people who have ever liked me have been trans men or at least queer!!!! We are just who we are and who God has created us to be!!! To accept this burden, and freedom, is also a challenge to live authentically: for trans people who have fully come to terms with themselves, you’ve learned to navigate the world as both a woman, and a man. That’s something deep and that a lot of people may never quite understand on that same level!!!!! They can only see things from one side of the equation or one side of society...

When and whether trans people become fully accepted in society now or never, the truth remains: trans people are uniquely equipped to understand the nature of gender struggles currently ravaging society. They understand the heart of the conflict, the challenges both men and women face. Trans people are intimately aware of the barriers to connection facing the world today!!! And will probably end up being the ones to save it… and for people not interested in directly saving the world, if you’re living the identity that feels most right to you, while striving to live an authentic witness of Christ’s Love, you’re already doing more for the cause than you know!!!!

Ok I ended up typing quite a bit but as I said this is a work in progress!!! Still I would like to share what I have so far, please weigh in if you have any thoughts as well as I love to hear from people!

[lemonsherbetsss]

Ok so! I have zero plan for how I’m writing this (probably a bad thing) but here is a post explaining (??) Angela Gearlooose and her backstory/lore !

This is Lengthyyyyyyyy I didn’t mean for it to be but yeah

for starters, she exists within the headcanon/au in which Scrooge is Gyro’s adoptive father and where Gyro lived and grew up with Donald, Della and Scrooge. Angela was hatched before Della had and hatched Huey, Dewey and Louie. Della and Donald were ecstatic to be her aunt/uncle but no one was as excited as Scrooge was to become a Grandpa.

The plan was that Gyro would raise Angel in the mansion alongside HDL when they hatched with the help of Scrooge, Donald and Della but this did not happen after the Spear Of Selene. Obviously they all went their separate ways (Gyro obviously still works with McDuck Ind. but his close relationship to his family is no longer intact) and didn’t really have any contact with each other (I say really as for Gyro, Scrooge is just of arms reach but again aren’t as close).

Gyro raises Angel on his own somewhat and I’ve played with multiple ideas which I’ll talk about but I’ll talk about the original ideas first!

The first and original idea was that if Gyro was far to busy, he would drop Angel off at the mansion and she would spend the day there under the watchful eyes of Beakley (i stan Gyro and Beakley friendship they are real, in this I’d imagine Gyro and Bentina already know each other -with him being a McDuck ofc- and she is quite fond of him, their relationship being kind of grandmother-grandson / mother-son if that makes sense) . While at the mansion, she would also make and be good friends with Webby (I think Webby is a bit older than the triplets canonically so they’d be the same age).

Whenever at the Mansion, Angel tries her best to stay out of Scrooge’s way, she doesn’t know her relation to him yet but she feels as if she’s a bit of a burden in the mansion and that she’s always intruding when she is there so she tries to keep her head down and be respectful. As for Scrooge, I feel he wouldn’t want to address Angela, like let her know who he is, build an actual relationship at all (yet) because are you kidding me bro didn’t even do that for HDL the only reason that happened was because of Beakley and their trouble making. Not to say that I don’t think Beakley wouldn’t urge him to get to know Angel (she probably would as like I said she did the same with the triplets) but yeah Angel and Scrooge keep their distance and Angel doesn’t know how or even the fact that they’re connected.

The way she comes across the knowledge that he is her Grandfather is through Webby (because she knows everything McDuck). The way it went in my original lore explanation I made on my Instagram highlights was really lame but briefly (although yes this is basically it) it was:

Webby: how come you get so quiet and reclusive whenever Mr McDuck is around?

Angela: I don’t know, he’s an adult I don’t know, it’s respectful I guess.

Webby: wait what? But he’s your Grandpa

Angela: he’s my what.

(Sucky ik but let’s just roll w it for now 😭😭)

She nervously and quietly asks Gyro about it and Gyro’s shocked because he didn’t really like tell her much about their past and other family as it basically has just been the two together as a family (looking back now it’s kinda dumb I had this because Gyro is a genius and his daughter is friends with the McDuck obsessed kid also Angela literally sometimes stays at the home of said McDuck but whatever). His explanation is just a vague ‘I’m sorry I’ve kept so much about our family from you, it’s hard to explain, something bad happened a long time ago and that’s why their family is like this (mysterious n broken lol) and Scrooge doesn’t mean to be the way he is and it’s just complicated’. I imagined that as a child and because she doesn’t know a lot about the situation and she doesn’t know any better, Angel would have like a tiny voice in her head that’s trying to convince her that she’s to blame for the rapture of her family but yeah 👍👍👍 that was the original idea.

One of the ideas I’ve played with was Launchpad helping Gyro out with raising Angel and become like an uncle figure to her (bc I also believe in Lp gyro friendship 💪💪). I feel Gyro’d just want to to do everything on his own (bc 1) being so hurt from everything and 2) being so stubborn) and, bc Lp is nearby -him working for Scrooge as well- Launchpad wants to be friends and eventually learns about Angela and wants to help. At first it’d be just Lp offering small favours (like offering to drive, hold things -perhaps if Gyro’s got a lot on his hands literally idk 😭😭- offering to bring things down to the lab, offering to buy him anything he needs, offering to watch Angel for a sec, etc.), to which Gyro refuses time and time again until one day he reluctantly accepted, much to Launchpad’s surprise. With Lp watching Angel Gyro would be extremely reluctant and hesitant (giving Launchpad’s clumsy nature) but he lets it happen and nothing goes wrong (maybe a broken cup or something that makes Gyro freak out if Angel’s ok for a bit before the reassurance that she’s fine from Lp) and he let’s Lp look after her more and they become closer and very much like family, the first family Gyro’s had kinda of like??? ‘Around’ ig since the spear of Selene

There’s more ideas but this post is already too long so ig I’ll talk abt it another day

So this is it lol 😭😭 this is probably really bad bc I don’t usually do stuff like this but like I realise I never actually share my oc lore to any places so it’s good have something down ig

Also I said in a post before that Gyro still works an unhealthy amount (coping ig) but finds a way to do it while caring for Angel I’ll link it here when I can lol

Edit: forgot to add but Angel spends most her freetime in the lab w her dad (idk if that’s important but ya)

[iphigeniainaulis]

Hello, everyone 💛

I begin to write this draft and then delete it. Again, again and again. Cool summer evening with clouds that stretch like cypress trees leaves behind, it’s got replaced by the silence of the night. Dark little nothing with distant cold lights from distant neighbour windows. I’ve been trying to avoid writing this letter, pretending that I have so much to do. The truth is that I’m scared to be honest. Yet, there is this feeling, this need to share the burden of the past with somebody. Even if the only person that reads this letter will be me. Especially if it’s me. 

I rarely write something to myself and almost never publish it on the Internet. Sadly as it is, I feel ashamed to do so. It’s as if I moan and grumble about silly things while the world is shaken with real problems. But this time is different. 

I just thought…

Hey, this is my blog. It’s little and broken, but it's good. I find joy everytime I come here. I hope that it makes somebody happy to visit and scroll through it as well. So, why not be open and honest here? 

For the last few years I’ve been dreaming about studying abroad. Can't tell when this thought occurred in my head for the first time, but when it did it captured my mind. Setting goals is something I’m genuinely keen on, since it helps me to organise my life while giving this ephemeral sense of stability. If today I do this and this, then tomorrow I’ll get that and that. But during the last year this perfect system began to show signs of strain. In autumn the Titanic sank completely. Without going into details, let me just say that the financial situation in my family changed. Therefore, my upcoming departure even after winning a grant that covered most of tuition fees could still make it even worse. My parents never said it out loud, and I’m sure that if not for me making the decision to withdraw, they would have supported me at the cost of their own comfort and health. But I couldn't accept that. The initial plan was to settle down, improve language skills and try to find a part-time job after the first semester. Before the change it seemed possible. But not now. So, I did what seemed right -  lied that the university refused to accept me because of the pandemic restrictions. Soon after that I received a job offer from a company where I'd been an intern before. A rainbow after a rain. 

Or not. 

It’s worth mentioning that the job offer I got was from the department that specialised in a field different from my undergraduate major. At first, I even liked it because it was the long-awaited challenge I needed after a period of apathy. After the first working day I even got back home in tears, because my boss didn't give me ‘enough’ tasks to complete as a fresher. I took it personally and acquired a habit to work long hours in order to delve deeper into my projects, read additional literature and ‘re-do’ the tasks to make everything perfect. Not even A. Only A+. It was as if I punished myself for not being able to pursue my dreams about pursuing education in various countries. I just couldn't accept the thought that sometimes there is something that is out of our control.

While being afraid of not getting enough tasks, I completely lost the sign of a more significant issue to take care of - my mental health. The first months at the new job were a nightmare. I imagined things that didn't exist, put constant pressure on myself and could starve for the whole day only to return back home and overeat chocolate, bread, fast food. Working extra hours, from 10 to 12 hours per day. Taking at least one extra hour every single day, since I was scared to be not good enough. Not smart enough. Not fast enough. I didn't want to fail my boss, my colleagues. Ironically, I didn’t even know them. I wasn't introduced to them and, to make things worse, was the only one who worked on the other side of the building because of them ‘not having enough space’. I remember when I went to meet with one of the seniors - a lovely woman in her 50s. She smiled so genuinely at me and then said, ‘Darling, if you don’t sort out things, get out of here. We don’t need you’. I felt useless. 

In winter it felt almost bearable. I still overworked without any compensation and got disappointed over the silliest mistakes. I felt bored because of the projects not being related to my professional interests, but pushed myself to take more. At least, I made some friends and got praised by my boss. 

During spring they began to give me even more complicated tasks, but I no longer felt satisfied. Serving in a top company, I was ashamed to tell my friends about my duties. Because it was boring and not mine, but was ‘being mine’ really an important criteria when I could provide for myself and my family? I found myself increasingly irritated with the lack of creativity at work. Bureaucracy. Writing a paper in order to get another paper that was mentioned in a paper from that paper. Constant delays in working schedule because of ‘immediate problems’.    

Not so long ago I decided to leave. It was hard and painful. But I knew that I’d given them everything I could. Now I’m preparing for entrance exams here in my city. Even if it's not the mysterious Kyoto or ancient London I’ve been dreaming of. I've got a lot of experience. Now I know how I will never allow people to treat me. How I will never allow myself to treat this body and mind. How I will act in a new place. I know that no single task is worth completing when it crushes your health. Currently I’m experiencing some problems with my back and knees. And I miss the time when I could stand on my feet without pain. Nevertheless, I’m sure that now I'm where I was meant to be. Healing. In the present. Not in my imagination. 

I’m so sorry that I’ve missed so many birthdays of my mutuals. So many wonderful works, art and talks. Sometimes life was fast and unclear just like a fleeting image from a train, and sometimes it slowed down like a raindrop on the glass. I didn't have energy to come here and interact, but I never stopped thinking about this special place where people from all over the world can feel for a second as if they sit close together in a house full of happy memories. 

I’m planning to answer, review and reblog as many things as I can in the upcoming weeks. Therefore, if you feel that it may be too much for you to see on your dash, it's absolutely and totally fine to block or unfollow me for a matter of time. 

As for now…

Love you,

Iphi

(My poor attempt to recreate Vincent’s ‘Almond Blossoms’)