#been one of my personal favorites for ages as well

[bapeach]

Accidental love

Another long fic and I'm honestly very proud of it! I don't know anything about torn ACL's or anything so if stuff is wrong, just ignore it. I hope you enjoy! Constructive criticism is always welcome :D Find my masterlist here :) Pairing(s): Paige Bueckers x female!reader  Word count: 9.1k+  Warnings: depression, life-changing accident, cursing, happy ending Summary: After a life-changing accident, Y/N finds peace in her new life, but when Paige Bueckers faces her own injury, their worlds collide. ------------

Paige Bueckers

Of course, it was a name you knew. You’re a student at UConn, so if you didn’t know of her, well, you’d be living under a rock. Paige Bueckers is UConn’s star player. The golden student. The future of women’s basketball. A legend in the making… 

You could go on and on about the things you’ve heard about her. She always seemed to be present in your life in one way or another. A mumble in the hallway as you go to class, an edit on your TikTok fyp, a celebration post on UConn’s Instagram page…

You don’t know the girl personally, having only been in the same room as her a few times when you went and watched some of her games. You’ve heard a lot of good things about her. You respected her grind, the way she gave her all to basketball and was a great team leader. You’ve also heard she’s a sweetheart off the court and always tries to make people comfortable. She’s also really pretty, which you’re sure is a contributing factor to why she’s so loved. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course. 

You’d had your own fair share of admirers because of your looks. You’d caught plenty of girls fawning over you as they ogled your muscles, giggling when you sent them a flirty wink. If you were honest, you were quite the player when you first came to university. You’d messed around with a few girls, never really getting into anything too serious. 

You just didn’t have time for relationships. You were too busy studying biomedical engineering while also having a job and hobbies. And boy, did you have hobbies. Ever since you were young, you were a very active kid. Your parents always had to beg you to come inside, only being able to persuade you with promises of weekends at the indoor playground/kid gym.

Growing up, you stayed active. You went for a run every morning and swimming at least once a week. You didn’t join your school’s sports teams because how could you only choose one? You spend every weekend doing a different sport until you run out, only to start over. Basketball, boxing, soccer, baseball, hockey... you did it all. Your all-time favorite, though? Rock climbing.

You think there’s nothing better in this world than rock climbing after a long week. Wind ruffling your hair as the bright sun shines on your back. Climbing as high as you can, your muscles burning as you strain them to their limit, your chest tight as you gasp for breath. But it’s all worth it, because in the end, when you reach the top and have a full view of the horizon? It feels like you’re on top of the world. Like you’re untouchable and all your hopes and dreams are within reach.

The thought of climbing always filled you with warmth and excitement. Even after climbing the same rocks over and over, you still felt in awe every time you made it to the top. Knowing that no matter what, at the end of the day, you could always count on the dusty stones beneath your fingertips always made a smile grow on your face. 

Well. That was before the accident, at least. Now the thought of it makes you feel a dull throb in your chest. 

The last time you went climbing, you’d gone with some fellow enthusiasts. It was a group of strangers you’d met at the indoor climbing hall. Their little club ranged from new climbers to experts, and you’d clicked with them immediately. The guide you went with was a middle-aged man who had over 20 years of experience, so you were excited to maybe learn some new things. He was a really nice guy, happy to see someone your age be so excited about his favorite activity. When you partnered up with him, you didn’t expect anything to go wrong. Daredevils like yourself never really think too much about the consequences of your actions or things that could go wrong, otherwise you’d be too afraid to do half of the things you do. So that day was like no other. At first at least.

When you had reached 3/4ths of the climb, it happened. Even now, 2 years later, you’re not sure what exactly happened. You only know that one moment you were gripping onto the rocky wall and the next you were falling. When you think about it, it all feels like a dream. It didn’t take you long before you hit the ground, but it somehow felt like ages.

You remember how distraught your guide was when you finally woke up in the hospital. You didn’t understand anything he was saying at first. He was crying too hard, stumbling over his words as he kept apologizing. Something about malfunctioning equipment? 

When the doctor walked in, you immediately knew something was very wrong. Your chest filled with an unbearable ache when you saw the sad frown on his face. After that, everything is pretty much a blur. You didn't hear anything after the words “paralyzed” and “never walk again” were spoken. Everything became muffled as your ears started buzzing. You felt your chest tighten, and this time not in a good way. You were drowning on dry land.

The next months were some of the darkest moments of your life. You felt like your world was ending. And it kind of was. Everything you thought you were, gone in a matter of seconds. Bound to a wheelchair for the rest of your life. You shut everyone out at first, but soon realized you couldn’t bear all of this alone. Your family was your greatest support. They were your greatest fans, always celebrating your wins, and now they were here to mourn your greatest losses with you as well. 

You lost quite a lot of friends after the accident. It was hard being friends with your sporty friends when you could only think about how you wished you could join them. Your friendships didn’t all end on a bad note, though. You knew that if anything was wrong, you could still call them, and they’d show up in a heartbeat. 

You also gained a few friendships. Some people you met at therapy, support groups, online forums,... You also found a friend in the guide you were with that day. While you hated him at first, too filled with pain to think clearly, you’d talked to him at a later point. He apologized profusely once more, but you forgave him quickly. It’s not like it was his fault. Besides, it was hard to hate him, the way he looked at you with so much guilt. He had kind but wise eyes, prominent smile lines, and his hair was graying a little, but he was still full of life and filled with passion. You knew this accident would haunt him for the rest of his life, and he didn’t deserve that, so you made sure to stay in touch with him. If only to let him know you were doing well and make sure he was too.

You still often think about the days when you could be wild and free. In the two years since the incident, you’ve changed a lot. You’ve calmed down greatly, becoming a lot more mature and wise. While you used to be the go-to friend for a crazy time, you were now the friend people came to for advice. You missed your younger self, but still felt like she was a part of you. You’d gone through so much, the change was only natural. And honestly? You were proud of the person you’d become. Sure, you weren’t perfect and still had your days when you felt like you couldn’t breathe and like the world was against you. But overall, you were at peace with your life. It’s also not like you’d fully lost your playful self. You still loved teasing your friends, pulling pranks, and causing mischief.

So yeah, while you didn’t know Paige personally, you definitely felt like you knew a lot about her from the media, the people around you, and even some of her friends. You’d met Azzi a year ago when she got injured during a game. She’d been destroyed when she realized she wouldn’t be playing again any time soon. Having to find something new to do, she’d made her way to the library, where she bumped into you. You started talking, and before long you two became pretty good friends. You listened to her situation and told her what you’d been through. 

At first, she’d apologized profusely, feeling bad about how she complained about not being able to play for a few months while you’d never get to do your favorite things ever again. You’d made sure the younger girl knew it was okay, and that you didn’t want her to feel like she couldn’t be upset just because you’d also gone through something. You’d spent hours with the girl talking about the adventures you used to go on and how much your life had changed. You made sure to tell her how happy you were despite everything, letting her know that no matter what, she’d be okay. 

While you don’t talk as much as you used to anymore, now that she’s back on the court, you still text each other every so often, smiling as you pass each other on campus. You didn’t blame her for becoming busy, you were excited to see her play with that bright smile on her face. You made sure to cheer her on and text her congratulations on her wins and “You did well” messages when the team lost. The girl appreciates you more than you know. Without you, she wouldn’t be where she is now. She’d learned so much from you.

Somehow, during your whole friendship, you’d never really met the team. Not that you really felt the need to. She had her friends, and you had yours. There was no need to mix up the groups. That being said, you didn’t really think you’d ever meet Paige or become close with her.

You were curious, though. As you wheel out of the library, you hear Paige’s name all around you. Two girls leaning in close as one gasps her name. A group of guys with their mouths dropped open as a video on their phone says the star athlete’s name. A professor walking past with a frown, mumbling, “... yeah, Paige Bueckers…”. 

When you reach your dorm, you open your laptop and search “Paige Bueckers” on Twitter. You immediately feel a pit in your stomach. The first tweet you see is a video with the caption “I’m gonna cry, I feel so bad for her”. You click the video and see why the basketball player was being talked about everywhere. At first, it looks like a normal clip from their most recent game. You see Nika passing the ball to Aaliyah, who passes it to a sprinting Azzi, who finally passes it off to Paige. You blink, and suddenly the blonde is on the floor, clutching her knee as tears stream down her face. You can see the worry and fear on her teammates’ faces, and the distraught but knowing look on Paige’s. A torn ACL. No doubt about it.

For a moment, your own accident flashes in your mind. The weightlessness as you were falling. Waking up and realizing you can’t move. You shake away the thoughts, blinking the haze from your eyes. You grab your phone to text the girl something, anything to make her feel better, but you pause. Right now, the last thing she’ll care about is a stranger texting her she’ll be okay when they probably don’t have any idea what she’s going through. Your thumb hovers over Azzi’s contact, but you end up closing the app. The brunette is probably too busy to talk, being too worried about her best friend. “I’ll talk to her soon,” you think to yourself before going on about your day.

You were right about talking to her soon. Only a week after the latest UConn tragedy, you see her. You were tucked away in your favorite corner of the library, a worn copy of your favorite book lying in your lap. You were surrounded by colorful pens, post-its, stickers, and tabs as you added new scribbles in the margins of the book (don’t worry, you’d gotten your own copy after the first time you read it).

Finishing a tiny doodle on the inside of the cover, you look up and see the younger girl. Beaming that wide smile of hers that could light up a dark room. The type of smile that makes you return the gesture before you even realize what’s happening. When she reaches your table, she greets you happily before looking back. It’s only then that you realize she’s brought company.

There she is. UConn’s basketball miracle in all her glory. Paige Bueckers. 

You look her up and down. She’s wearing her blue UConn tracksuit, her hair is in a bun, and she’s holding two crutches under her arms. Her usually bright blue eyes have become a darker color as a frown is set on her face. She didn’t want to be there, she wanted to be in her room, wallowing in her bed with a pint of ice cream. She doesn’t understand why Azzi felt the need to drag her out of the comfort of her own dorm to go meet some stranger that would give her the same stupid pitying looks she’d been getting from everyone around her. 

“Hey Ace,” you send her a grin before looking back towards the injured girl. “Hey, I’m Y/N,” you nod at her. She only frowns at you until Azzi turns and sends her a pointed look. “Paige,” the blonde sighs. You hide your amused smile, knowing she’d get even more annoyed if she thought you were making fun of her. 

“I figured it was finally time some of my favorite people met!” the brunette beams. When you catch her eye, you have a silent conversation with her. You knew why she was here with Paige. She was hoping you’d be able to help her best friend the way you’d helped her. You can tell by Azzi’s body language that she’s slightly on edge, not sure how you’d react. You send her a reassuring wink as you start talking, “About time! I’ve heard a lot about you, Paige,” you say gently. The girl only hums in response. 

You see Azzi frown for a second before her signature easy smile makes its way back to her face. “I was thinking we could all go for coffee,” she says, looking at you with hope in her eyes. “Sounds good to me!” you grin as you start packing up your stuff. Once you’re done, you glance over at Paige, who is looking around with a bored expression. You’re not offended at her not wanting to spend time with you. You knew what it was like to feel your world crash, and you’d also tried pushing people away. The blonde maybe didn’t want to be around you right now, but you’d make sure she realized that she’d be okay.

You put your bag on your lap before wheeling your way around the table so you could be right beside the basketball players. You see Paige’s eyes widen as she takes you in, only now having realized you were in a wheelchair. You let her observe you for a moment, seeing her emotions swim in her eyes. You could tell she was shocked and a bit embarrassed, but you also saw her frustrations as she clenched her jaw and started frowning again. “So that’s why Azzi wanted me to meet her. Just so she could tell me that whatever I’m going through is nothing compared to what she has to live with,” Paige thinks as she tries not to roll her eyes. 

You simply send her a smile. You don’t mind the anger that seems to radiate off of the girl. You know she’ll probably say and do stuff she doesn’t mean in rage, and you don’t mind being the person all that fury is aimed at. You know that at the end of the day, she won’t mean any of it, and you’d rather she tries to hurt your feelings than her sunshine best friend.

“Let’s go then, shall we?” you say with a raised brow and a tiny smirk before you start wheeling away. You lead the way through campus to your favorite coffee shop, making small talk with Azzi. You try to include Paige as well, but you don’t talk to her all that much, not wanting to overwhelm her. When you arrive at the shop, the brunette holds the door for you and Paige with a smile, her eyes twinkling. You thank her before following the blonde in. 

“Your usual?” Azzi asks as she walks in behind you. “Yes please, thanks Princess,” you say with a playful wink, a wide grin on your face. The brunette shakes her head in amusement, her eyes crinkling as she smiles. You make your way towards a free table in the back, waving hi to the barista that always calls you his favorite regular. Paige follows not long after, while Azzi waits in line to order the drinks. Once Paige sits down with a huff, slightly out of breath as she rubs the spots where she leaned against the crutches, you don’t say anything at first. The silence isn’t exactly fun, but it’s not a bad silence either.

When your friend makes her way to your table, you smile softly at her as you accept your drink. “Thanks, Ace.” “Of course,” she replies, her voice soft. She looks over at Paige for a moment before clearing her throat. “Listen, P, I know you’re hurting. Not just physically but mentally too. And I know how you feel like it’s the end of the world, but I promise you, it’s not. When I went through my injury and couldn’t play, I spiraled too. But then I met Y/N, and she made me realize that everything would be okay. I know you’re not happy about being here, and I don’t want you to feel like you’re not allowed to be sad, but please just… talk to her. Y/N is an amazing friend to have, not just because she knows what it’s like to lose stuff, but just because she listens. She really listens, and she has a way of making you feel a little lighter on days when things seem impossible.” 

You look at her as she’s speaking, your smile soft as your chest feels warm. It was nice to hear her say such sweet things about you and trust that you’ll be able to help someone else she cares so much about. 

Azzi turns to you before continuing. “And Y/N, please don’t think we’re only here because I want you to help P. I’ve always wanted to introduce you two. I feel like you two could be great friends!” You lean over to grab her hand and give it a little squeeze. Of course, to anyone else it might’ve looked weird, the way you and Azzi hadn’t spoken in a while, and she only seemed to come back to you for help. You knew that wasn’t the case, though. The brunette was the definition of kindness. I mean, she has the nickname “The People’s Princess” for a reason. You didn’t feel offended at all, knowing this only proved how much she trusted you and how much you’d helped her in the past.

Paige’s jaw stays clenched a little longer, her brows furrowed. “I don’t need her help. I don’t need anyone’s help,” she thinks angrily to herself. When she looks up at her best friend, however, she falters. She knows Azzi doesn’t have a bad bone in her body. “I guess… if Azzi speaks this highly of her, then… she can’t be that bad.” You see her soften as she gives the brunette a soft nod. She turns to you, sighing softly before giving you a tentative smile. You grin at her as mischief swirls in your eyes. “Yeah, we’re gonna work out just fine,” you think.

As you drink your coffee, you talk about everything that’s been happening in your life lately, asking Azzi for details on what she’s been up to since you last talked. You make sure to ask Paige questions too, getting to know her more as well. You keep the conversation away from basketball or your own accident. There was a time and place for that conversation, and it wasn’t here and now. 

You stay in the coffee shop for hours, just chatting about everything and nothing. You manage to make both girls laugh a lot, one time even making Paige laugh so hard, her coffee comes out of her nose. She’d looked pretty embarrassed, her face turning a bright red, but she couldn’t wipe the smile off of her face. 

You’re in the middle of telling Paige a story about something you and Azzi had done a few months ago when the brunette’s phone went off. You pause your conversation as you look at her with a raised eyebrow. “Oh shoot! I gotta go, uh, do you guys mind if I head out?” she rambles, already getting up. You look at Paige, who’s already looking at you. You grin at each other before turning to Azzi. “Don’t worry, we’ll play nice,” you smirk. 

Once the brunette leaves, you think for a moment Paige will go back to her quiet self, but you’re wrong. “So? What happened next?” she asks, her eyes wide in a childlike wonder. Warmth blossoms in your chest. The people weren’t wrong when they praised the type of person the star athlete is. She was sweet, paid full attention to what you were saying at all times, and she was funny as hell. 

You continue the story, making the blonde chuckle and shake her head in disbelief. “There’s just no way Azzi did that.” You shrug with a smirk, “It’s all true.” She looks at you a little longer, eyes squinted, as she tries to find out if you're lying. When she realizes you’re not, she chuckles again as she leans back. 

You continue to look at her and notice her demeanor change. Her smile slowly leaves her face as her body becomes tense again. Somehow you’d managed to not make her think about basketball or her injury the whole time you were at the coffee shop, but now it seemed to all come back in one big wave. 

She frowns, leaning forward as she hesitantly meets your eye. “So… Are you finally gonna tell me to just suck it up and stop moping about my knee? Because at least there’s a chance I’ll still be able to play?”

You look at her for a moment. “Nope.” You push away from the table as you start rolling your wheelchair to the door. “W-Wait, what?” You hear Paige stutter, her chair screeching from how hard she scoots it away from the table. You grin, hearing the clattering behind you as the blonde struggles to grab her crutches to follow you. You thank the girl holding the door open for you as you roll into the warm afternoon sun. Paige huffs as she finally reaches you, a frown on her face. You can tell she’s not really upset, though, the way her lips are curling into a small smile.

“Come on, I’ll walk you to your dorm… well… wheel you to your dorm…? Wheel to your dorm as you hobble along…?” Your eyebrows are furrowed as you rub your chin, trying to find the right wording. You hear Paige snort beside you as she starts moving. “Oh my god, bro, just shut up.” 

You stick your tongue out in response before speeding up a bit to match her pace. You two don’t talk for a moment, enjoying the nice breeze as birds whistle around you. “I had fun with you today, Paige,” you smile up at the girl. She smiles back at you. “I had fun with you too… I’m sorry for how I acted earlier, it’s just… it’s been really hard,” the frown from earlier makes its way back onto her face.

“Don’t worry about it, P,” you say with a smile. The girl returns the gesture, hearing you call her her nickname. “So uhh, you don’t want to tell, y'know, all that stuff about how it’ll all be okay?” She asks hesitantly. “Would you believe me if I did?” You ask without any judgment in your voice. “I’m not sure… probably not,” she says as she looks over sheepishly. “Then there wouldn’t be any point to it, would there?” You tease. 

She looks back ahead of her, but you stare a little longer. “I’ll tell you about my accident some day, but not right now. I don’t wanna tell you and have you just end up feeling bad, y’know? We had a good day, let’s not ruin it with my sob story,” you grin as you send her a wink.

Once you reach the blonde’s dorm, she looks at you with reluctant eyes. She doesn’t want to say goodbye just yet. “Give me your number, we’ll text,” you demand, not really giving her a chance to say no, but you both know she wouldn’t. You see her relax a little as she hands you her phone. Once you’ve put your number in and added a cheeky contact name, you give her back her phone. 

“Text me, alright? I know where you live now, so if you don’t, I’ll come find you,” you say with a teasing wink. “Yes, ma’am,” she grins. You two say your goodbyes before you make your way to your own dorm. You haven’t even made it out of the basketball player’s hallway before you hear your phone ding. Your stomach flutters and your chest feels warm. You were excited about your new friendship and were looking forward to getting to know the legendary player on a deeper level. 

Over the following weeks, you two continue to text every day, hanging out in the coffee shop a few more times too. Sometimes Azzi joins you, but more often than not, it’s just the two of you. You learn more about Paige’s family and friends and how life was living in Minnesota while she also gets to know you more. 

You can’t say every day you spend with the blonde is an amazing day. The girl’s injury was still fresh, so she was often grumpy and sad and found it hard to enjoy having to sit still in some coffee shop or library when she’d rather be out there playing ball. You never got upset with her though, you’d been there before, and you knew she just needed some silent support. 

One afternoon, your phone rings, bringing a smile to your face. You know who’s calling before you even look. “Hey, P,” you say, your grin clear in your voice. “Hey Y/N/N, whatcha up to?” she mumbles. “Just hanging out in my dorm, watching a show. What ‘bout you?” you reply, leaning back on your bed as you stare at the ceiling. “M’bored, you should come over… Some of the girls are coming over later… You should meet them,” she says. When you close your eyes, you can see her sitting in her room, one hand holding her phone as the other rubs her neck shyly.

“Sounds nice,” you murmur. You hear a soft sigh of relief on the other end. “Yeah?” Paige’s voice crackles through the phone, her tone hopeful. “Mhm,” you hum, “I’ll be there in like… 20 minutes?” “Ugh, 20 whole minutes?” she whines as you chuckle at how childish she could be. “Oh, I’m sorry? Do you want me to put my wheelchair in turbo mode?” You joke. “Oh my goddd, stoppp,” she groans, muffling her chuckles behind her hand. 

When you first made jokes about your injury and wheelchair, Paige had completely frozen, not knowing how to react. It had taken her a while, but now she was used to your stupid little jokes and knew you made them because you liked making people laugh.

You laugh softly at her reaction before saying goodbye and hanging up the phone. You get out of bed, hopping into your wheelchair with ease, having been through this whole thing what feels like a million times before. You quickly get ready, grabbing a book Azzi had been wanting to borrow for a while and putting it in your bag before heading out. 

You were excited to see Paige and Azzi again and were curious to see what their other friends were like. You were pretty nervous, though. You’d be the odd one out in their usual little bubble. You didn’t let that stop you from going over, though. You’d never really been afraid to take leaps, and weren’t going to start now either.

When you make it to Paige and Azzi’s dorm in record time (the wind must’ve helped you make it there so fast…), you let your presence be known with your signature knock. Paige opens the door almost immediately with her trademark grin. “Hey P,” you smile as you wheel your way inside. “Hey Y/N/N,” she replies. “So, when’re the others gonna be here?” you say as you follow her towards her room. “Don’t know. Half an hour maybe?” she shrugs as she plops down on her bed. You nod your head as you look around. 

You’d been in the blonde’s room a few times already, but you still liked seeing if anything had changed. Her room was filled with the usual clutter, clothes thrown on the chair in the corner, a few water bottles next to her bed,...

She pats the space next to her, inviting you in. You wheel closer before heaving yourself onto the bed. Blue eyes follow your every move, ready to jump into action if you need help. Once you’re comfortable, you lean back and smile at her. “Grey's Anatomy?” you ask, your head tilted in question. Paige’s face immediately lights up as she leans over to grab her laptop. You continue the show where you’d left off last time before you hear commotion in the living room. 

You look over at Paige, who looks back at you with a pout on her face. You chuckle, sitting up a little straighter to hop back into your wheelchair. Once you’re seated, you wait for the blonde to grab her crutches and lead the way. You laugh softly at her huffing and puffing, knowing she’d rather watch her show right now than hang out with her team.

When you make it to the living room, you see KK, Nika, Ice, and Azzi chatting as they shrug off their jackets. When they notice Paige and you, they quiet down. “Y/N! Hey, I didn’t know you were here,” Azzi beams at you. “Guys, this is Y/N, the girl I’ve told you about, the one that helped me during my recovery,” she says cheerfully. KK, Nika, and Ice smile kindly at you before introducing themselves. 

“Hey, it’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you guys,” you smile. “Only good things, I hope?” Nika teases. “Meh,” you reply with a smirk. The girls laugh before finding a spot to sit as you guys hang out. They leave 2 spots open on the couch for Paige and you, making you send them a thankful smile. 

You sit down and get to know the girls a little better. You could see why the UConn team was such a close-knit group. The girls were funny, sweet, and protective and treated each other like family. 

After a while, KK and Ice get bored and decide to turn on Paige’s PlayStation to play Fortnite. You continue to talk to everyone, laughing at the funny stories the girls tell you about Paige, trying to embarrass her. The blonde’s face turns a bright red as she complains about them being jerks, but her bright smile doesn’t leave her face. Your heart feels like it’s grown two sizes with how happy you’re feeling.

“Oh wait, Ace, I’ve got that book you asked for,” you say. You look towards your bag, seeing it near KK. “Hey KK, d’you mind grabbing my bag for me?” you ask the gaming girl. “Hm?” she hums distractedly. “Grab it yourself, bro,” she says, completely focused on the game. You see Azzi open her mouth to say something, but you hold up your hand to stop her. You send her an evil grin as mischief swirls around in your eyes. You make your face neutral, maybe even a little pouty, as you let out a sad sigh, “Alright.” 

You grab onto your wheelchair a little louder than necessary as you lean forward to move into it. KK’s head whips around so fast, you think she might’ve given herself whiplash. “WAIT, NO!” she yells, her eyes wide as she scrambles to get up to grab it for you. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone move as fast as her at that moment. 

The girls around you slap their hands in front of their mouths to stifle their giggles. The younger girl looks at them with a pouty frown, feeling bad for forgetting you couldn’t easily get up to grab something. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles as she hands you the book. You send her a wink and a grin, letting her know you were just joking. You weren't offended about the fact she seemed to have forgotten. It showed you that the girls didn’t just see you as someone with a disability.

She sits back down next to Ice, sticking her tongue out at the still laughing girl. “s’not funny,” she mutters, staring at the TV as she continues the game. You could get used to hanging out with these girls. You loved the way they constantly teased each other, but never went too far. Many people were too scared to make any type of jokes around you, too focused on your impairment to realize you were also just a person. 

20 minutes go by before a phone rings. You recognize the ringtone as Paige’s and look towards the sound. Her phone is lying on the table near Ice and KK, who both look over for a split second before their attention goes back towards the TV. “KK, gimme my phone,” Paige demands, leaning forward to grab it from her. “Get it yourself,” the younger girl quips back, not even glancing at the blonde. Paige looks over at the other girls for a second, a “Seriously?” clear on her face. 

She grins before copying you. Sigh. “Fine,” she mutters, grabbing onto her crutches, making them bang against each other. KK looks back and deadpans at her. “Go ahead,” she says dryly, turning back to her match. 

“Bruh, what the hell,” Paige huffs as she gets up to grab her phone. You let out a deep belly laugh at the annoyed look on her face. The blonde turns to you with an unamused frown, as you send her an innocent smile and a shrug. 

You guys hang out for a few hours before it’s time to head back to your dorm. Your chest feels light when you say your goodbyes. Each girl gives you a hug with the promise of hanging out again soon. When you make it back to your room, you see you already have 2 texts from Paige. “had fun 2day, thanks for coming over” and “think KK likes you more than me”. 

That night, you go to bed with a wide smile on your face.

Days go by, and you stay in touch with all of the girls, but you mainly hang out with Paige. Today was another one of your planned hangouts, this time at your dorm, but the second the blonde arrived, you knew it wouldn’t be all fun and games. She’d just gone to physical therapy for her knee, and her face looks thunderous. She hadn’t slept well, constantly waking up because of her knee, she’s sick and tired of not being able to play, and physical therapy had gone horribly. 

When she walks in, she wordlessly flops down on your couch as she stares at the ceiling, a frown etched into her face. You go over to your fridge, grabbing a bottle of water for the both of you before returning to her side. You give her the bottle and wait patiently for her to talk. “I fucking hate this,” she fumes. “It’s been weeks since the game, why is everything still so… so… ughhhh,” she groans, unable to find the words. You give her arm a squeeze in support, but she shrugs you off, shooting upright as she continues her heated rant. 

You stay calm as you listen to her, knowing she needs this moment to blow off some steam. When she quiets down, heaving from all the talking, you quietly try to comfort her. “I know it sucks, P, but you need to just keep going, don’t give up. You’ll be on the court again soon enough, and it’ll be like you never left-” you can’t finish your sentence before Paige interrupts. 

“NO, YOU DON’T FUCKING GET IT!” she yells, her frustrations high. You wince slightly at the volume but don’t say anything. You give the blonde a moment to calm down and let everything sink in. You’re not offended, you know people say things they don’t mean in moments like this. 

Once she realizes what she just said to you, the one person who understands more than anything, she looks at you with guilt in her eyes. Her blue eyes having become a shade darker as they look at you sadly. You see tears starting to well up before she leans forward, putting her face in her hands. “I’m sorry,” she whimpers in shame. You lean forward again, softly grabbing her wrist to take her hands away from her face. You hold one hand between yours as you catch her eye. You give her a gentle smile, letting her know you’re not upset.

“I shouldn’t have yelled… I shouldn’t’ve said that,” she mumbles regretfully. “It’s okay, P,” you murmur, giving her hand a squeeze. “You’re not mad?” She looks at you like a kicked puppy. You shake your head with a smile, “I’ve been through worse. I’ll survive a pretty girl raising her voice at me.” She gives you a tiny, sad smile, leaning her forehead against your entwined hands.

You start telling her your story. The story of how you grew up, playing every sport under the sun, up until that one dreadful day. You tell her about the dark, depressive hole you fell into after you woke up paralyzed, the way you pushed everyone away, and how you thought nothing would ever be okay again. The whole time you’re talking, she looks you in the eyes, barely blinking as she listens intently. Her jaw clenches as her eyes become glassy when you talk about your depression. When you finish talking about what it was like the first few months after the accident, you pause for a moment, letting everything sink in.

“How’d you do it…?” She asks, her voice cracking with emotion. “It was hard… really fucking hard,” you start. “I pushed everyone away at first, but my family never gave up on me. They helped me realize that while it really fucking sucked… I was still alive. And I would find new things to care about. And I did!” You smile. “With all my free time, I started looking for new hobbies. I found out pretty quickly that I don’t have the patience for puzzles, and I poked myself one too many times to enjoy cross-stitching,” you say with a playful grin, making the athlete breathe out a little laugh.

“I learned that I have pretty good rhythm, so I was able to pick up playing the guitar and the piano pretty easily. I realized that doodling really helps me unwind after a long day, which is funny because it’s the complete opposite of how I used to relax. I got better and better at drawing and tried out a bunch of different mediums, but my favorite is still pencil drawings. I’d always loved reading but never made enough time for it, but now I try to finish at least one book a week… Uhh, I bought a PlayStation which I play on maybe a little too much, but you know what that’s like, Ms Fortnite addict.” You tease. She rolls her eyes, but you can tell that she’s no longer feeling so bad, a tiny smile decorating her face. 

You let silence fill the room for a moment. “I’m not saying this in a way of being like, ‘Stop complaining and get over it’, but I promise P, things will be okay. You’re the Paige Bueckers… It’s gonna take a lot more than a torn ACL for you to stop being you. Have some faith.” You send her a comforting smile as you squeeze her hand. She nods at you, her muscles relaxed as she finally lets out a relieved sigh. “Thanks… for everything,” she breathes. You shake your head with a smile, thinking it’s silly she’s thanking you for being her friend. “You don’t need to thank me for that… but you’re welcome. And thank you for including me in your group of friends… I don’t remember the last time I’ve had this much fun.”

You two talk for the rest of the afternoon, ordering a pizza when dinner time arrives. After you’re done eating, you migrate to your bedroom, letting a movie play in the background as you keep talking about everything and nothing. You’re sitting on your bed, telling Paige a story, waving your arms animatedly as her blue eyes stare into yours. “... And then she looked at me and I almost passed out from laughing! You should’ve seen the look on Ace’s face!” you say, hiccuping a little from laughing. The blonde laughs along, her chest feeling warm at the sound of your laugh.

“So what’s up with that nickname anyway?” she questions as she leans her head on her hand. “Ace?” You ask. “Well, her name’s Azzi, but people call her Azz, so then I started calling her Ace, as in A C E, like in a deck of cards. The ace cards are the highest cards in the deck, and I think of her quite highly,” you explain.

“Okay, but doesn’t it depend on the game?” she asks, tilting her head like a confused puppy. “Hm?” “Well, isn’t the ace card the lowest in certain games?” she says with a raised eyebrow. You can’t help laughing as she says that. “God, are you always this negative?” You tease, giving her a little push. She rolls her eyes as she scrunches her nose, sticking her tongue out. 

You continue talking until the sky becomes dark. Paige looks out the window, a slight frown growing on her face at the thought of having to leave. “Do you wanna stay the night?” you ask nonchalantly, but you feel your heart beat a little faster. Her bright blue eyes find yours immediately as she looks to see if you’re joking. “Yeah, sure, if that’s cool with you,” she says as she fiddles with her necklace. You smirk at how nervous she seems. “I wouldn’t have offered if it wasn’t, now would I?” She slaps your arm lightly to shut you up. “Go ahead and grab some clothes from my closet,” you tell her, hopping into your wheelchair to go get ready for bed in your bathroom.

When you return, you freeze for a moment, your heart swelling at the blonde dressed in your clothes. When she looks over at you, you start moving again, letting her use the bathroom as well. A few minutes later, she returns, looking around a little sheepishly. You pat the bed next to you, sending her a calming smile. You continue talking a little longer, but slowly feel your eyes grow heavy. You fall asleep to Paige’s tired mumbling. The last thing you remember is a soft hand grabbing yours, entwining your fingers before you doze off.

After that night, your relationship with Paige changes. You feel like you’ve somehow become even closer to her and are happy to call her your best friend. You’re rarely seen without the other, always attached to the hip. You make sure to come with her to physical therapy for silent support, while she often joins you in the library as you finish another book on your list. Your favorite hangout spot is the coffee shop where you two properly talked for the first time. You make sure to go there every week, sometimes even being joined by the girls on the team (who you’d all gotten to know pretty well by now).

When the end of Paige’s recovery nears, you’re a little nervous. While you never blamed Azzi for getting too busy to hang out a lot after she recovered, you would still be upset if the same happened with the blonde. All your worries were for naught, however, when Paige continues to call you every chance she gets, sending you quick texts when she can’t. She often adds silly selfies as well, just to make you laugh.

You’ve known you’ve had a crush on the girl for a while now, but you never said anything. Paige needed to focus on getting better without any distractions. You also didn’t want her to think your whole friendship was based on you having a crush on her, so it was best you just kept quiet.

Paige, in return, was also too scared to tell you about her crush. She loved the friendship you two had and didn’t want to ruin it just because she’d caught feelings. She was afraid that every glance, every touch, and every soft smile was just you being a good friend. She couldn’t bear to lose you after everything you’d done for her, so she kept her mouth shut.

Azzi, being the observant friend she is, immediately knew about both of your feelings when she’d “caught” you two asleep on the couch, holding each other close. She made it her mission to get you two together. She started off by trying to convince Paige to confess, but that didn’t work out well, seeing as the blonde was too scared and always shrugged her off. Her next plan was to try to make you confess, knowing you were the bravest person she knew. That sadly also didn’t work, seeing as you were too considerate of others to think about your own feelings when you knew Paige could end up getting hurt. 

So here she was, back on plan A. “Come onnn, P, she’s head over heels for you, I’m telling you!” The blonde rolls her eyes so hard it gives her a bit of a headache. “Azzi, please, we’ve been over this before, let it goooo,” Paige groans, feeling butterflies flutter in her stomach at the thought of you liking her back. “No! I’m not gonna let this go. You two mean so much to me, I just want you guys to be happy,” she says with a sad pout on her face. Paige lifts her head from where she’s lying on her bed to look at the brunette, and groans again at the kicked puppy look on her face. She could never say no to her when she made that face.

Paige sighs and stares at the ceiling for a moment. “...How sure are you?” She mutters, looking over at Azzi with desperation in her eyes. The brunette gives her a soft but excited smile. “110%, P. You know I wouldn’t say this if there was even a slight chance I was wrong.” The blonde’s cheeks turn a soft pink as a happy yet slightly embarrassed smile shows on her face. “Okay then, how do we do this?”

You’re hanging out with a friend when you hear the familiar ringtone go off. You excuse yourself for a moment, picking up the phone. “What’s up, P?” You grin. “Hey Y/N/N!” You can hear the smile in her voice. “You’re coming to our next game, right?” she asks. “Uhm, hello? It’s your first game back on the court, of course I’m coming,” you tease, sounding slightly offended she felt like she had to ask. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she chuckles, “jus’ wanted to be sure.” “I’ll be your biggest cheerleader, don’t even worry about it,” you promise. “Ight, I’ll hold you to that,” she replies before you two say your goodbyes.

When the day of Paige’s first game back arrives, you know the blonde is bursting with nerves. You meet up with her before the game to wish her good luck and to encourage her. Her leg shakes up and down as she bites her nails. Her eyes flit around the room as she nods along to what you’re saying, but you know she’s not listening. You roll closer to her, grabbing her hand and pulling it away from her mouth. You give it a gentle squeeze as she finally looks at you. “Don’t worry so much, P. You’ve been working your ass off for this moment, and you’re gonna do great, okay?” you say, trying to reassure her as much as you can. Her shoulders loosen as she finally takes in what you’re saying.

“Thanks, Y/N/N,” she mutters with a small smile. You give her a wink before you leave to wish the other girls good luck and to find your spot before the crowd starts filtering in. While Paige is extremely nervous about her first game back, she’s more nervous about what’s going to happen at halftime. She really hopes she won’t embarrass herself. She walks back over to her team, quickly going over everything again to make sure everything would go exactly the way she’d planned. 

The first quarter of the game flies by before she even knows it. She already scored 12 points, giving UConn the advantage. As she sits on the bench, listening to coach Geno, she looks around. Her eyes immediately find yours as you send her two thumbs up. She grins before locking back into the game. 

The second quarter goes by even faster, making Paige’s stomach clench with nerves. They were now 9 points ahead, so it was still anyone’s game. First, however, it was time for halftime. 

The blonde wipes her sweat on a towel, looking over at Azzi. The brunette gives her a reassuring smile before walking over to you. You don’t expect her to walk over but smile at her nonetheless. “Hey Y/N/N, how much do you trust me?” she grins. You raise an eyebrow at her, but the smile on your face doesn’t disappear. “With my life,” you reply. She sends you a beaming smile, giving your shoulder a squeeze as she wheels you onto the court. You chuckle as you ask her what’s going on. She simply says, “You’ll see.” 

Paige walks up to you, fiddling with her hands nervously. She bends down on one knee and starts talking, her voice quivering a little. “Y/N… I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me.” You open your mouth to tell her off, but she holds up her hand before you can say a word. “I know, I know, I don’t need to thank you… but I want to. When you entered my life, I was going through a very difficult time. I felt like I was drowning on dry land… But you? You were like my life buoy, not letting me sink. You’re this amazing, strong person, and you’ve made me want to be like you. To never give up and to look at life in a positive way, even when things go wrong.” She swallows harshly. You grab her hand and give it a squeeze, speechless at the girl's words. Your chest feels warm as your heart feels like it’s about to burst out of its cage.

“The past few months have meant more to me than you could imagine, and… I fell for you harder than I thought I ever could… So… I want to ask you this,” she says, still nervous but a bit more confident as she sees the adoration in your eyes. She stands up and accepts the flowers Nika gives her. She hands them to you as she steps aside. 

Your eyes tear up as you see the scene in front of you. The whole UConn team, as well as the opponent's team, are standing there. All holding various items. A few girls are holding cardboard signs with the words “Will you go out with me?” on them. Your free hand flies to your mouth as you look up at Paige. The blonde is already staring at you lovingly with a soft smile. You chuckle at the amount of love you’re feeling right now as you nod your head at her. You can barely hear the crowd cheer around you as you feel your blood rushing in your ears.

The star player’s smile becomes even wider as her eyes crinkle. She grabs your hand, placing a kiss on it as all players start making their way towards you. You get handed all kinds of gifts from the blonde. Your favorite book annotated by her, a Lego set you two had talked about getting, a new pack of expensive pencils, a guitar pick maker, and a bunch of other things. You feel so incredibly seen by her that you find it hard to keep your tears at bay.

Once you’ve received all the gifts and thanked Paige a bunch, you make your way back to your seat. You hear a few “congrats” aimed your way as fans smile widely at you. When you turn back to the court, you see the blonde already looking at you. She sends you a flirty wink, making you chuckle as you shake your head in amusement. While the circumstances of you two meeting weren’t the best, you thank your lucky stars that the universe guided you to the Paige Bueckers. UConn’s star player. The golden student. The future of women’s basketball. A legend in the making. The girl that stole your heart but gave you hers in return.

[cowboylikeyouu]

yes omg finally people who understand!! i always see people on tiktok talking about fake scenarios but they all insert themselves and i just.. don't. never have, never will. i've been doing this constantly since i was like 7, and for the past 5 years it's been mostly winterhawk scenarios, but it all started out so batshit crazy i just have to write it down here, i apologize in advance lmao

it all started with filly unicorns?? i collected all of them and had a bunch of CDs and i was always imagining stories about them. ashia was my absolute favorite, she was the first one i ever had, and she always featured as the main character in every scenario.

then i got to the 4th harry potter book and was SO obsessed with it that i was like "i need ashia to go to hogwarts & be a part of the tournament!!" so that's exactly what i did. i made her attend hogwarts multiple times in my mind, she was a part of the marauders, of the golden trio, once she became a teacher afterwards, once she was minister of magic, that girl has done it all.

then i read gregor the overlander by suzanne collins and was obsessed with it for quite some time, so obviously ashia got herself a nice bat to fly on, and bc i kinda got attached to my own personal harry potter univserse, it just all kept existing in that same universe lol.

then came the hunger games obsession, so ofc i threw ashia into the arena, alongside some harry potter & gregor characters, and i all slaughtered them in my head at the ripe age of 11 bc HEY, it all in my head i can just rewind and they're all alive again yay!!!

mind you, ashia is still a purple unicorn lmao and it's impossible to explain the logistics behind all of this. she obviously took the role of katniss when i threw her into hunger games & used a bow & everything, and i have no fucking clue how that worked with her being a unicorn and all. but hey. MAGIC!!!!

most of the characters were in a band together as well at some point and went on tour and everything, bc being a hogwarts student, hogwarts teacher, minister of magic, hunger games victor & mentor and a commander in a weird underground war with gigantic animals obviously wasn't enough for our favorite purple unicorn ashia!! the band stuff was a crucial step tho that's still very present in my fake scenarios today lol bc i never had the ability to listen to music normally, i always had to imagine someone either performing it live or in a music video. so every. single. song. i listened to back then went straight into my daydreaming databank where i tried to find a way to somehow relate it to one of the characters so that i could imagine that they were the one who wrote & performed it.

at some point between this era and the next i decided that ashia being a unicorn was too ridiculous for me now, so i spent an entire day customizing her human design in my mind until i was satisfied with it.

THEN came the skulduggery pleasant obsession (especially the dead men obsession) and it was such a major obsession that i deleted the entirety of the harry potter x hunger games x gregor universe from my head, got rid off all the characters except for a ashia, and made her a part of the dead men (pretty much the avengers of the SP universe) & made dexter vex (one of the dead men) fall in love with her (i was SO obsessed with that man back then). i was always imagining them on missions & in wars, and ashia or dexter always got horribly injured, bc man i was always starving for the hurt/comfort.

i kinda missed the whole band-thing tho bc again, it was the only way i could actually enjoy listening to music, and bc i hadn't really understood the concept of multiple universes back then, i always felt like i had to squeeze everything i wanted for those characters into one universe, so i made the dead men split up, and ashia & dex became a super successful music duo, and then i always jumped back & forth in time depending on if i wanted dead men content or music content.

it went on like this for quite some time, until i finally discovered winterhawk in 2019.

it took me exactly one avengers tower fanfiction to be like "okay bye dead men" and start daydreaming about the avengers instead. ashia was still my baby tho, and dexter was her baby, so i took them both to the mcu with me. at first, i was still mostly daydreaming about those two becoming a part of the avengers & stuff, until i was SO obsessed with clint & bucky that my entire attention focused on them, and that hasn't changed one single bit since then.

the same music problem occurred, so naturally, the avengers became a band as well as superheroes. at the same time. makes total sense. that was also the time where i was old enough to really be on tiktok & shit, and i wanted social media to be a part of my daydreaming as well, so i made all the avengers couples adopt some teenagers who then had tiktok accounts. in retrospect, that was the cringes era by far, but i was 13/14 alright, cut me some slack.

anyways, that was also the time where i REALLY started discovering ao3 and reading 250k words a day, and at some point between a high school & a coffee shop AU i FINALLY realized i could just... create multiple universes in my head.

and since then i've been throwing bucky & clint in a different universe every week, watching a whole fanfic series about it in my head, and then going to a new universe or revisiting an old one (ashia & dex still feature regularly, my mind just can't get rid of them)

my favs include but aren't limited to: at least 7 different actor AUs, 5 musician AUs, 3 AUs where bucky is an actor & clint a singer/songwriter, 1 avengers band AU, 6 different college AUs, 3 different high school AUs, 2 doctor AUs, multiple teacher AUs including some teacher x single!dad stuff, a hogwarts AU, a hunger games AU, a skulduggery pleasant AU (notice how we're going back to my roots?), a model AU, and multiple productions of various relativ tv shows with the avengers as the contestants.

i definitely enjoy the singer/songwriter AUs the most bc i can & will find a way to relate every single song to them in that AU, even if it takes an entirely new universe where they're in completely different situations. i have so many playlists that are basically just fictional albums for different AUs, it's my fav past time activity.

whoah okay that was a long one, but yeah that's where i'm at rn. i'm always imagining those stories while falling asleep, but i do it at almost all other times as well. long car/bus/train rides? i'm daydreaming. taking a walk? i'm daydreaming. boring lecture? i'm daydreaming. zoning out of a conversation to recharge? i'm daydreaming. watching a movie/show? 70% chance i'm daydreaming while watching it so i'm basically watching two things at the same time. it gets annoying sometimes when i gotta be productive but the story in my head just hits too hard to stop thinking about it, but most of the time it's a goddamn blessing bc i can literally never be bored. there's always something to watch in my mind 🤷🏼‍♀️

anyways, sorry op for yapping in ur reblogs😭

i can assure you, you're not the only one who's doing this to a concerning degree <3

Anyone else's only way of falling asleep is to make up fake scenarios of fictional characters in your head?

Like, I don't even insert myself, I'm just writing movies and shows in my head at this point.

Tonight's episode, Wade and Logan, tomorrow's? Who the fuck knows!

(Seriously. I just write fanfiction of Wade and logan in my head to fall asleep. It's concerning, I know.)

[zzenxell]

for the record (MDNI)

cowboy!mingi x saloon owner!fem reader

pairing: cowboy!mingi x bar owner! reader

genre: smut 18+

rating: mature

word count: 6.2k

summary: a lone bar owner on a dead day in a small town is taken for the ride of her life once a regularly visiting bounty hunter enters through the swinging doors

warnings: explicit language (like... real explicit) || smut (very intense, i fear. please don't read in public or if under the age of 18) || sub/dom themes || fingering (f recieivng) || oral stimulation (f/m receiving) || big dick!mingi (as we all know) || unprotected (wrap it up irl) || creampie (oatmeal) || nicknames (sweetheart, darling, love, angel, doll, pretty, pretty girl, sweet pea, cumslut, slut) || multiple orgasms ||

zzen's notes: save a horse, ride a cowboy everyday of my life is said cowboy is mingi🤭 also, first one shot type thing written on here so pretty please show love and give requests so i can write more

ALSO sorry this shit took so long lol went to hell and back just to get my writers block dealt with. i also have this on AO3 which is where ill be posting all my works as well. link in bio :P

(partially proofread. im lazy)

On a cold and gloomy day, you work around the saloon you own in a quaint little town. A dead one. Barely any travelers were out and hardly any of the regulars stopped by. Tumbleweeds passed by the saloon doors with a foot-high opening at the bottom, swinging in the wind with a creak. You sigh, focusing on the small stack of used and dirty cups needing a good clean. It was rare to have such an uninteresting day around these parts. Normally, there would be at least one person in here. Or a group of cowboys causing a ruckus in the far corner booth. It was eerily quiet, both inside and outside the small wooden building. 

In the middle of toweling dry a glass, the doors fly open. You figure it was just the wind again until you hear boots scuffling the planks of the floor. You turn, looking towards the sound, and see one of your regulars. Song Mingi. A well-known bounty hunter who has a habit of coming in once a week to get a whiskey sour. Several, at that. Normally covered in blood and dirt, he looks clean this time. Setting the glass down, you lean against the counter behind you and cross your arms with a smirk. 

“Fancy seeing you ‘round. Quite the weather to be out and about,” You say with a drawl, looking over the man briefly before meeting his gaze again. He smirks at you and places his cowboy hat on the counter before perching himself on the stool in front of you. He’s always been infatuated with you. Your attitude, your aura, your energy. Everything about you is so… alluring. It captivates him every time. Him meaning his throbbing dick between his thighs that happens to harden the moment he walks into your bar. 

“I needed a drink and wanted to see my favorite bar owner. That a crime, sweetheart?” He tilts his head, that disgustingly sexy smirk still sitting on his face as his eyes run over you as well. You knew damn well and good that he wants you. Always has since his first appearance in your bar. He made it known. The first encounter being him with his group of wildlings. All of them drunk off their asses in the corner booth and trying to get you to buy them a round. You folded, obviously, and brought over two pitchers of beer just to shut them up. That was the first time you noticed him. His cowboy hat sitting slanted on his head and only being able to see the lower part of his face. Though that night, he lifted his head to meet your gaze. That same stupid smirk sitting on his face as he nodded in appreciation. That was also the first time you went home and rubbed one out to the thought of him. Which, now that you think about it, seems to be the normal ritual for when you get home. 

“Well, I appreciate the compliment, cowboy,” You scoff out a soft laugh and pick up a clean glass, making his usual concoction before sliding the glass across the counter to him. His fingers barely brush against yours and both of you have to hold back to grab each other's hands. You won’t lie and say you have a fantasy of getting thrown over this very bartop and having him fuck you roughly from behind. To have his large, rough, and calloused hands wrapped around your waist. Oh, to hear his moans in the deep raspiness of his voice. Fuck, you were getting turned on just thinking about it. But you also can’t let him know that. It’ll boost his ego too much and make him think he has a chance. (He does). 

“Thanks, darlin’,” He takes a sip of his drink, eyeing you like a hawk while doing so. His mind is running with all the thoughts of what he wants to do to you. To pin you against the wall of liquor that looms behind you. To fuck that tight little cunt of yours that he knows is tight and pink. Like it was made for him and only him. To bend you over this counter and fuck you till you're crying out in pleasure. His cock bruising your insides in the best way possible. Shooting everything in him to coat the velvety walls of your pussy. God, what he would do to taste you. 

Shaking his head from his thoughts, he turns his gaze around the empty saloon, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Seems like you’re pretty busy here, eh?” His head turns back to you and his glass presses to his lips once more, taking another sip of his drink before letting the glass settle on the counter. Leaning back against the seat, he eyes you once again. His cock twitching in his jeans as his gaze falls to your plump and, oh-so-beautiful breasts. Even behind that button-up and vest, he knows they’re plump. Round and full. Perfect for his huge hands to grasp and fondle. To tease those perky nipples into a stimulation you haven’t felt before. He swallows thickly and meets your gaze. 

Smirking knowingly, you push off the counter and walk to the opposite end to discard the towel into a dirty waste bin. Unlike many other women in town, you refuse to wear blouses, skirts, and underskirts. Fuck that. You dress yourself in jeans, chaps, and a white button-up that's tucked under your belt. Your leather vest frayed around the chest, the fringe swaying with each of your subtle movements. 

“Quite the day indeed, I’ll tell you that. You’re the first and only customer all day,” Standing back up straight, you face him and saunter back to stand in front of him. No other person to pay attention to. Might as well.. play a little. Leaning against the bartop in front of him, you grab his glass and take a sip all while keeping his gaze. He visibly swallows and eyes your lips wrapped around the glass. The glass clinks to the counter and you grab his hat next, placing it atop your head with a smirk. 

His gaze never leaves you and something in him switches once he sees his hat on your head. You must not know the untold fact about wearing a man's cowboy hat. Mingi’s grin grows and he leans his forearms on the counter. “You know, You look mighty sexy with my hat on that pretty head of yours,” His voice drops a few tones as he licks his lips. The head he’s imagined pushing down over his cock with your pretty pink lips wrapped around him. Your eyes welling with tears because he’s too big for you. Fucking your throat raw until he cums and watches his seed spill from the corners of your lips. Fuck, to be in your mouth right now. His pants tighten again and he bites his lip to hold back a groan. “You don’t know what that means, do you, hun?” 

Your eyes narrow, questioning him silently before setting his hat back down beside his glass. Leaning your forearms between his in the counter, you lean forward a little. “What does it mean, cowboy?” Your tone teasing, sultry even, as you speak. Tongue darting out to wet your lips almost in anticipation. His smirk only grows and he leans forward as well. 

“When a pretty girl like yourself wears a man’s hat, it means you’re his… and his only,” He’s whispering now. Somehow sounding even sexier like this. Your mind flurries with phrases you want him to whisper in your ear while he’s deep inside you and you swallow dryly as you eye his lips. 

“That so?” You question back, cocking your head to the side slightly before meeting his gaze again. It darkens immediately and his hands clench into fists against the wood of the bar top. The nod is subtle, but you see it. That makes your smirk grow as well. Just as he starts to lean forward again, you pull away and place your hands firmly on the counter. “Maybe I should wear it more often then… whaddyu think?” His heart stutters and his eyes widen a little. Fuck you’re bold. And he loves it. Loves the thought of you being his to come home to and fuck the brains out of. To relieve the stress of having to kill people for money to scrape by. And to have you by his side would be a dream of his. One he would gladly make into a reality if you gave him even the smallest chance. A scoff of a laugh leaves him and he picks his glass back up and down the rest of his drink. “Don’t tempt me, sweetheart. You know I’m not opposed to the idea.”

You laugh softly and take his empty glass from the counter to clean, rinsing it under water before towel drying it and setting it with the others behind you. In the silence, you’re thinking about the many ways you could tempt him right now. Simply unbutton the top of your shirt, taking your vest off. Even just adjusting yourself. Anything you do would get him going. 

So you do it. Shedding your vest slowly from your shoulders and tossing it to the side before undoing the top two buttons of your shirt. Cleavage is now out in the open for him to see. His eyes dropping instantly with a deep and sharp sigh. He licks his lips, almost hungrily, as he takes in your newfound boldness. “What are you playing at, Y/N?” His voice is deeper than before and raspier than you’ve ever heard it. It sends shivers down your spine and straight to your pussy that's already clenching around nothing. You can feel how wet you are despite not even being touched. That is the power his voice holds over you. And it should be illegal. 

“I’m not playing at anything, cowboy. Just got a little hot. That a crime?” I throw his earlier said words at him and bend over in front of him to “fetch a rag” from the floor. His breath hitches and he lets out a soft groan. Mingi’s hand now covers his mouth while the other disappears underneath the counter. Shit, is he touching himself? Just at the sight of my titties? “Bullshit,” his voice strained and his eyes fall shut in an attempt to rid his mind of these thoughts. You’re teasing him. He won’t get anything from you. He knows he won’t. But, fuck, if he can’t help thinking about sliding his cock between those fucking tits of yours and coating them with his cum. The very thought sends another wave of arousal through him and his hand palms his dick through his pants, which elicits another groan from him. “What. Are you. Playing at?” He asks again, stern this time. You can’t help but smirk at him, even if he can’t see you right now with his eyes clenched shut. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, hun,” again, teasing him. He should just shut you up now and shove his cock down your throat until you can’t see anything but the tears in your eyes. Running a hand through his hair, he leans further back into the stool and stares up at the ceiling, letting out heavy huffs of air as his other hand continues to slowly move along his hard cock. 

“You… are a cock tease,” he says after a few moments of silence and finally turns his gaze back to you. He can’t take this shit anymore and stands from the stool. Marching over to the entrance that leads behind the bar, he throws it open and stalks over to you, placing both hands on the counter that you lean against. Now that you’re caged in, you realize… you want him to fuck you senseless. You want to suck him down and swallow everything he gives you. Your hands fall to his chest, pressing firmly against it as if to push him away. Your attempts fail because he’s a giant compared to you. His frame blocks everything out of view and all you can do is stare up at his hardened gaze. “You like being a tease? Huh? You want me to show you what happens when you tease too much, sweetheart?” 

His words send a thrill through your body. Fuck yeah, you want him to show you. You want him to demolish you right now against this counter and fuck you so hard that the liquor bottles fall and shatter around you as you cream over his cock you know is big, just like the rest of him. A sly smile forms on your face and your hands decide they want to move over the expanse of his chest. Even when it's covered in his button-up and vest, you feel the muscles tense under your touch. Another groan leaves him and his face drops closer to yours. 

“Don’t fuck with me right now, doll…” he mutters out and drops his face even lower, ghosting against the skin of your neck. His hot breath fanning out with each heavy huff. Hands now moving from the counter behind you to grip at your waist. Fuck… they were so big. He was big. He could so easily manhandle you right now and you wouldn’t have a care in the world. 

“You don’t want me to fuck you, Mingi?” The words leave your mouth before you can stop them and your head tilts a little as you feel his lips press to the side of your neck. Brushing right below your ear and down to where your shoulder and neck connect. Another groan, this one deeper and more elongated. His grip tightens on your waist and, suddenly, his teeth are in your neck. A sharp moan leaves you and your eyes flutter shut. That’s gonna leave a mark. But who cares? Neither of you right now. 

“You want me to fuck you, y/n? You want my cock inside you? Is that what it is?” He mumbles against your neck, still attacking it with his lips and tongue, leaving several marks of his behind. Each one elicits a soft whimper to pass through your lips. Your hands clench against the fabric of his shirt and you turn your head, forcing him to leave your neck. Though his eyes never leave the sight of the dark marks he left behind.

“Maybe I do…” you whisper to him and move one of your hands to the back of his neck, pulling him in for a well-needed kiss. Messy and sloppy and dirty and wet. One that both of you had dreamt of many times in the solitude of your homes. He groans into the kiss, moving one hand from your waist to tangle in your hair and tilt your head back so he can shove his tongue into your mouth. You moan against his lips and let him take over. His tongue slides and dominates yours as it feels around your mouth. Fuck, this was hot. You honestly could cum from this. His soft and plump lips pressed to yours, despite the taste of whiskey that coated his mouth. Your hand slides into his hair to grip tightly as you pull him closer to you. His other hand moves from your waist and slides down, toying with your belt before ripping it out of the belt loops. It clings to the ground and his next action is unbuttoning and unzipping your jeans. 

He pulls away from your lips, just for a breather. His eyes cast down to stare at your now swollen lips. Smirking, he moves the hand from your hair to brush a thumb over your bottom lip. A soft whimper escapes you as you watch him. His face is full of desire and pent-up arousal. He presses against you harder and you feel his straining cock press into your stomach. Now you’re glancing down to see the very large bulge in his jeans. He chuckles lowly and lifts your face back up with a tight grip under your chin. His other hand successfully gets your pants undone, shoving them down quickly. Your legs instinctively spread for him with a gasp. Feeling his touch against your clothed clit almost made you lose it and you let out an embarrassingly loud moan, hips jolting at his touch. 

“That how wet I make you, doll? You’re fucking drenched… what a slut you are,” He whispers against your ear. You knew how wet you were, but the vulgarity of his words makes you even more so. Pussy clenching around nothing, pulsing from the inside with a hunger for him and him only. His fingers tease the cloth of your panties slowly, drawing out any sound he can from you in the process as his lips reconnect with your neck. “You are a slut, aren’t you? A cock-loving cum slut… ready to fuck any man who walks into your saloon, huh?” 

You shiver at his words and let out a needy moan. Again, the vulgarity coming from this man makes you want to jump him. In response, you nod eagerly. Wanting nothing more than to fuck him in this very moment like the cumslut he says you are. “Fuck, Mingi… please just-... just fuck me already.” The words are a plea. A beg for him to do more than just touch you through your soaked panties. He smirks against your neck and pulls away to look down at you. 

“Right here in the front of the saloon where anyone could walk in and see you on full display? I don’t think so, doll.” With that, he pulls his hand from your pants and grabs your waist to hoist you up, pressing you against him as he quickly makes his way to your office door. Your legs wrap around him and your arms snake around his broad shoulders to hold yourself in place. He knows where your office is solely because he’s seen you walk back there many times. Just so he can see that pretty little ass of yours in these tight jeans you always wear. His hands knead the flesh of your ass through your jeans, walking with a purpose so he can get you bent over the desk like the whore you are. 

You, on the other hand, are now clinging to his shoulders for the life of you. Head buried into his neck with lips pressed to his neck in a fervor to try and get some of your desires out. Nothing works. You need his cock. For him to be inside you and fucking you senseless until you don’t even remember your damn name. The whimpers leaving you are breathless and desperate. He kicks the door open, setting you down on the desk before shutting the door behind him and shedding his vest from his shoulders. His belt buckle unlatches as he pulls his belt from his pants and shoves his pants down without even undoing them. His boxers sliding down as well, revealing his hard and thick cock to your eyes. It’s huge. Girthy and veiny, red tip leaking with precum and can easily tear you in two. He stares down at you, legs spread against the desk with your arms behind your back to support your weight. He lets out a groan and strokes himself a few times before walking over to where you sit.

“Knees, angel. Get on ‘em,” With his hand still on his cock, he motions with his other for you to do as he says. And, like the compliant little slut you are, you listen, Dropping to your knees in front of him with his big fucking cock in front of your face. You lick your lips, moving your hands to his thighs slowly, but he pushes them away with a tsk. “Uh uh. Let me fuck that pretty little mouth of yours before you do anything. I want you crying around my cock before I fuck you. Hands behind your back.” Your eyes widen at his words, but you nod and settle your hands behind your back, looking up at him. Your chest heaves with the deep breaths you take. In this position, your panties are pulled taut enough that they just so happen to ride right against your clit and you could easily get off like this. Sucking him dry and cumming from giving him pleasure. Fuck, just the thought of swallowing him down makes you almost cum. His eyes narrow down at you and he steps closer, pressing his tip against your cheek before slapping himself against you with a groan. 

“Fuck, doll… you look good down there,” He all but whispers out and moves his free hand to grip your hair away from your face. His other hand guides his tip across your lips and you open willingly for him. That action makes him stifle back a guttural moan, but he doesn’t plunge himself in yet. He wants to hear you beg for his cock. “You want it? Let me hear you, baby. Tell me how much you want me to fuck your mouth… 'cause I know you want me to.” 

You whimper, clenching your eyes shut briefly to get your mind unfogged so you can speak to him. “Mingi… please fuck my mouth. Use me. By all means, use my mouth for your pleasure. Please, baby. I need your cum down my throat. I need to taste you,” the words fall out so easily despite your brain being mush. He seems satisfied with your answer though, smiling down at you like a predator about to devour its prey. 

“Open nice and wide for me, doll,” And you listen, almost dislocating your jaw with the speed in which you drop it down for him. He lets out a hum of appreciation and circles his tip around your lips once more before pressing his tip in. Cursing under his breath, he slowly inches forward as his grip on your hair tightens. It took everything in him to go slow and not surge himself to the back of your throat. “There we go… such a good girl.” He mutters out with his eyes shut in pleasure. Your tongue begins to swirl over every part it can reach despite him stretching your mouth to new heights. He pulls back out after getting half of his length in, then slowly presses himself back into the hilt. That elicits a loud moan from him and a gag from you, but you take him willingly. Your eyes blinking up at him with tears starting to form at the corners.

After a few seconds of him with his cock down your throat, he opens his eyes and looks down at you with a hint of a smile on his face. “Good fucking girl. Taking me so well in the little mouth of yours,” he mumbles in desire and begins to rock his hips into you. Both of his hands tangle in your hair tightly to hold your head in place. Strings of saliva start to drip down your chin. Surely, some of his precum was a part of it, not that you minded at all. His cock hits the back of your throat in slow and steady thrusts that make him groan lowly. The sight of him disappearing and reappearing from your mouth almost makes him lose his shit, but he holds back. He's not cumming until he's fucking that cunt of yours and filling you to the brim. 

His pace quickens suddenly and you're fighting back the urges to gag once more. Wet gurgles leaving you. They sound disgusting but he fucking loves them. He can't take it anymore, his pace quickening once again and his grip on your hair tightens. “Fuck, doll… doing such a good job,” his eyes fall shut again and his head tilts back to moan towards the ceiling. At that point, you start grinding yourself down into the seam of your panties, moaning around him softly as the tears start to fall down your cheeks. You can already feel your arousal dripping onto the wood floor below you. You're too focused on his massive dick in your mouth pounding your throat relentlessly. 

Mingi thrusts into your mouth one last time and holds himself there, silent and still as he brings his head back down. Feigning mock sympathy, he moves one of his hands from your hair to wipe the shed tears from your face. “Aww… you're crying? Am I too big for you, sweetheart? You poor thing.” He pulls himself out and lets go of your hair. Taking in breaths as you stare up at him, you lick your lips to get the precum he has spread earlier around the rim of your mouth. “Get up.” He demands while stroking himself in front of your face, almost tantalizing. You listen, standing from the floor and facing him to wait for his next instruction. God, you feel helpless, but dammit all to hell if it doesn't feel good.

He doesn't waste much time shoving your panties down to the floor to pool around your ankles. Strings of your arousal detach from your underwear and stick to your inner thighs. He licks his lips at the side, ready to taste every last inch of you until you're screaming for him to stop. “Sit on the desk, doll. Legs spread for me,” he gently nudges you backward with his hands on your hips, sitting you down on the edge of the desk before you could even think about moving. Your legs spread at his demand and you watch him sink to his knees between your thighs. He sighs deeply, a sound coming from the back of his throat. Almost like a growl. It makes your insides turn with desire and your knees fall over even more for him with a soft whimper. “Please, baby…” you whisper as if your pleas will do anything to quicken the process. 

“Patience, sweetheart. You know how long I've wanted this. I'm taking my time with you,” he says with a tsk and smooths his hands over your legs. Starting at your calves, then the tops of your thighs, and finally massaging the insides of them, inching closer and closer to your dripping cunt. “So wet… and such a pretty sight,” the fingers of one hand gather some of your arousal and he licks them clean, humming in delight before pressing his thumb to your swollen clit. Your head tilts back abruptly and a sharp moan leaves you. Fuck, his hands are so big. You know you've said that before, but they truly are nothing compared to your hands. His eyes never leave the sight of your folds, pink and beautiful. Soaking from your juices and teasing him by clenching around nothing. 

His thumb circles over your nub, watching as more of you seeps out of that tight little hole he's gonna destroy. Your moans gradually get louder with each passing second. More needy, whiny. More for him to just fuck you already. You bring your head back down and look at him. Shit he looks pussy drunk and he hasn't even done much of anything yet. But as soon as you think that, he dives in, licking a long stripe up from your entrance to the clit he's been teasing with his thumb. Again, he hums in delight and his eyes fall shut. Your head gets tossed back once more and your arms threaten to give out from holding your weight behind you.

“So sweet, love… Fuck you taste good, mm,” he mumbles against you and the hum he does sends a shiver throughout your entire body. Whimpering with every flick of his tongue. His hands wrap the underneath of your thighs and hoist them over his shoulders, pulling you closer to him in the process. He's hungry, and he's about to have himself a nice feast. Mingi doesn't hold back. His tongue delves into your entrance and licks wherever he can. His hands are gripping your thighs so hard it'll leave bruises till next week. Every so often, his nose brushes against your clit and you let out a cry of pleasure, fighting to bring your hands down to tangle in his hair. 

“You wanna cum in my mouth, doll? Wanna drown me with your cum? Huh?” he mumbles again and brings his hand back down to play with your clit as his attack on your hole continues relentlessly. You nod, but you know he can't see you. It takes everything in you to clear your mind long enough to moan out a response. “Yes… fuck- yes, baby… please let me cum in your mouth,” the words send his cock twitching against his stomach and he presses his face further, smirking against you devilishly.

Then he pulls away, stands abruptly, and rips your shirt open. Your whine of protest from the lack of an orgasm soon turns to a gasp of surprise once your chest is exposed to him. Buttons fly everywhere and tumble to the floor as his lips make contact with your chest. His hands pull your shirt down your shoulders and then reach behind you to unclasp your bra, which he does in one swift move that has your pussy fluttering. Yanking the straps down, he palms your right breast and bites along the top of your other one. “Gorgeous, love… fucking beautiful,” They're all he's ever imagined. Round, full, perky. Everything he's dreamed of. He wants to slide his cock between the valley of them, but that'll be for another day. He's too impatient for that right now. He steps closer, his cock sliding against your thigh before settling on your stomach as his lips move up to the side of your neck. Sucking and pulling at the skin desperately as if he wants to eat you alive. Which you're sure he can if he truly wants to. You wouldn't be opposed, that's for damn sure.

His hips move slowly, grinding his hardness against your thigh and spreading your legs with his own. Groans leaving him with each passing second, mixing with your whimpers of pleasure as your eyes fall shut. His large, calloused hands travel everywhere they possibly can. You claw at him, his shoulders and back and neck. Desperate for him to give up on teasing and taking his time instead of ravishing you within an inch of your life. “Mingi.. P-please,”

It's like the restraint in him finally breaks and he's capturing your lips with his again. A hand snaking down to toy with you for a moment, gathering your juices before hes stroking his cock with it. Then his tip is prodding at your entrance. “You sure you can handle this, sweet pea?” He breaks the kiss to mutter those words, dark and gruff as his lips trail over your cheek. The hand not holding himself at your entrance travels up the side of your body to gently wrap around your throat. Not too much pressure, but enough to make your walls flutter. 

“Y-yes.. Please, Mingi. I- i can handle it,” you respond, shaky and quiet but confident in your ability to take him nonetheless. He doesn’t waste much time after that and slowly sinks himself into the hilt with a deep groan. It almost sounds like a growl. Of course, it’s paired with a satisfied moan from yourself once you’re finally able to feel him like this. His lips attach to your neck again in a sorry attempt to muffle the soft grunts and gasps he’s letting out from how tight you are. You’re too busy clinging to his shoulders trying to get used to his size. “Tight as hell, sweetheart.. You alright?” He breathes the words out between his teeth, willing himself to stay still so he doesnt hurt you too much. You’re able to nod, subtly, but it's there. He takes that as permission to move, pulling back until just his tip remains inside, then pushes back in with a groan. It harmonizes with the breathy moan you let out. 

That’s how he starts. Slow, steady. Full, deep strokes that make you feel every vein carved into his dick. All while his huffs of air and grunts resonate right next to your ear. Every once in a while punctuated by a kiss or nip on your shoulder. Your legs tighten around his waist, pulling him closer and deeper at the same time. “M-Mingi… so good…” You whimper the words, digging your nails into his shoulders before moving to his back. A hand delving into his hair yet again to both tangle in the strands and grip at his scalp. He responds with a sharp thrust, pulling his head back just enough to look you in the eyes. “Yeah? Feels good, doll?” His pace quickens just enough to make the desk start hitting the wall. A cocky grin taking his face as he watches how fucked out you become. “So pretty… Gonna fuck you dumb, okay? Just sit here and be a good girl for me.” 

He pulls out, hoisting your legs over his forearms so they sit in the crook of your knee. His cock plunging itself back in as he straightens himself up to get a better range of movement. At this point, you're barely on the desk. Ass hanging off and basically hovering as he plunders into you. He’s out of reach now so you struggle to grab onto something, anything. The papers on my desk, a stapler. Eventually, I opt for the wall behind me and arch my back from the wood. “R-right there..please right- ahh my god,” He’s hitting your g-spot so perfectly you start seeing stars. He grunts, tightening his grip on your thighs as he pulls you closer to the edge of the desk. “Gonna come for me? Huh? Gonna cream all over this dick, pretty girl?” 

If the words weren’t enough already, the name was a cherry on top. You nod, frantically, as a hand comes down to press against his pelvis. Not to push him away, but to touch him somewhere at least. The tears that rolled down your cheeks while his dick was in your mouth now rolls down as his dick rearranges your pretty little cunt. You were so close, so very close. “M-min..close,” The words come out so quietly, he almost misses them. But when they register, he doubles down his efforts. One of his hands coming between your thighs to play with your highly oversensitive clit to help send you over the edge. The desk hitting the wall in a steady and quick rhythm as he works you up. “C’mon, pretty… Soak my cock. Wanna see it glistening before I fill this pussy up, uh? Wanna watch? C’mere,” His other hand moves to grip the back of your neck, pulling you up just enough to watch where his cock disappears and reappears from inside you. His words, his fingers, his pace. Him. Fuck, you’re surprised you lasted this long. Another pitiful sob leaves you as you watch your arousal splash against his thighs. “You see that? See how good you take me, baby? Can’t believe you made me wait this long for such a perfect fucking pussy, mm.”

And that was it. It was like everything inside you just ruptures and you come with a guttural moan of his name. Your back arching into him and nails digging into where they stay on his stomach and the wall. Surprisingly enough, you manage to rip through the wallpaper in the office. A worry for another day though. You’re too busy seeing the gates of heaven while your orgasm washes over you, eyes clenched shut while your body stays rigid in bliss. His fingers on your clit not relenting until he sees the trembles in your thighs die down. His hips slowly coaxing you out of your high before he starts to work himself. When you’re finally able to open your eyes, you meet his gaze and see the smirk sitting on his face. “Just as I thought… pretty,” He mutters before he gives a few sloppy thrusts, and empties himself inside with a satisfied groan, almost mistaken for a whimper if you listened close enough. He stills, dropping his forehead to your shoulder as his arms bring your legs down. His arms instead wrap around your waist to pull you closer. Your breaths resonating in the small room as you both come down from the high of everything. 

Mingi’s first to pull away, pressing gentle kisses along your shoulder and up your neck until he's right next to your ear. “For the record, I ain’t letting another man lay a hand on you, darlin’,” His hands tighten around your waist. Calloused fingertips dancing along the soft exposed skin of your hips and back. You smile against where your head rests on his collarbone. “For the record, I ain’t letting another woman lay a hand on you, cowboy."

okay.. so whatd you think?

[hana-no-seiiki]

Sorry for the long hiatus. My meds for my bipolar disorder have made it very difficult to have inspiration/motivation for anything aside from normie activities.

Anyways I have a lot planned for this year! Hopefully you guys enjoy these works that have been in the backburner for a while while now. Love yall.

Without further ado, here’s a little drabble/some hcs as appetizers.

YANDERE BATFAM x HAREM! READER

tw/cw: DID coded shenanigans. Multiple Readers converge from my other works. Confusing fuckery. Yun writing without his meds. Featuring @sophiethewitch1 ‘s loser reader from What We Want. Mad Genius! Reader.

inspired by: The Herta (Honkai Star Rail) and a lil Iron Man.

Okay it but wouldn’t it be fucking hilarious if Reader gave the boys a harem of their own.

Like perhaps they’re just this immortal genius that creates puppets. Each with its unique personality and looks. But all of them share one thing, a love for their creator and the batfam. (And are all under your control…mostly)

Let’s start with your failures shall we? After all, the most precious thing to a genius like you, is your mistakes. However few or many there are.

You created Cat Villain! Reader as a test. No flashy powers beyond invisibility and teleportation. What you did give them however, was a whole load of sass and mystique. Something that drew in the Robins pretty well at first, but they soon lose interest in favor of … well

another work of yours was Alien! Reader. The goody two shoes with a dark side. (You couldn’t make them perfectly straight and narrow, that would have been far too boring). But Alien! Reader started dating Damian way too quickly. And everyone seemed so happy with the arrangement that you quickly ended it all. Swiftly killing your puppet in a fit of boredom. (Don’t worry, you kept some spare parts in order to rebuild them later on if such a whim caught your fancy)

Now, What We Want! Reader was special. It took a lot of time, effort, and whole butt load of money. Crossing dimensions was a lot more difficult than you thought it would be. But of course, in the end, your perfect self managed to pull through.

Replacing the original What We Want! Reader with a puppet that housed a soul from another world? Genius. Absolutely brilliant. You should reward yourself with how smart you are.

Unfortunately the boys got too excited and locked her up. Almost removing your access to one of your favorite experiments! How could they?

And so you send her back home. Safe and sound (and ready for part two!)

While looking through other dimensions, a certain manga/anime caught your eye. Makima! Reader was inspired from the character herself. And Bruce’s lack of participation and eagerness in some of your previous tests. And so you made his utter nightmare. One who killed when it was necessary and kill you did.

Unfortunately Makima! Reader almost made [Favorite DC Villain] pass away and you wouldn’t want that happening, don’t you?

In getting What We Want! Reader to your dimension you failed to account one of your stupid puppets getting into the collider by accident. And thus was What’s Up Danger? Reader was born.

You let it roam free for the most part, but for some reason time seemed to loop around them meeting the batboys for the first time and would never go beyond it. (Probably cause the author hasn’t updated in a dozen amber eras at this point)

Exasperated and in dire need of some fun in your life. You bring back all the readers one last time.

And oh, the chaos that ensued was one for the ages.

Finally, a success.

©️ h.n.s. - yun | 2025

[azazelsazaleas]

Set a course...for home

So I just finished Voyager. And I have thoughts.

Endgame, like the series, was good but felt like it could've been so much more. I'm not the first fan to point out that it's weird that the last thing we see is Voyager flying towards Earth, with no coda or montage or anything showing each of the crew when they get home. What really surprised me on this viewing (I saw it once back when it first aired, but it's been over 20 years and I barely remembered it) was how slow the pacing was until the last 20 minutes or so. I kinda feel like the writers could've trimmed a bit out of it so we could have a more satisfying denouement. Oh well. They got home, Janeway thoroughly wrecked the Borg, and I'm not going to lie - I got a little choked up when they fly out of the exploding Borg Sphere and Janeway says, "We did it."

With that said, may as well go through the good, the not-so-good, and any other random thoughts I have in retrospect.

The good :

Captain Kathryn Janeway.

I'm sorry, that deserves to be written thusly:

CAPTAIN KATHRYN FUCKING JANEWAY

Oh my god, I love this woman. I think, at this point, she's my favorite Star Trek captain and easily one of my favorite characters in the franchise. She absolutely radiates an aura of "I am in charge here, and this situation is going to go how I decide it goes," and she delivers every damn time. Strong-willed, controversial, authoritative, intelligent, creative, and just damned incredible. Janeway alone is a major reason to give this show a watchthrough.

Not to mention, Kate Mulgrew is a fucking INCREDIBLE actress. She brings 110% to every episode, and I swear to god, she basically carried the first two or three seasons.

And speaking of amazing actresses, Jeri Ryan was incredible. A lot of people loved her performance in Body and Soul (and yes, watching her channel Robert Picardo was delightful), but seeing her constantly changing personalities in Infinite Regress two seasons earlier was the big "Holy Shit" moment for me. Even beyond that, she was brilliant as Seven of Nine (and say what you will about ST:Picard, I loved seeing her step back into the role). It also doesn't hurt that Seven is one of the most interesting characters on the show, if not on Star Trek.

In general, the show had some great characters on the main cast. I found I really liked Tuvok and B'Elanna as well. Tim Russ nailed that "annoyed Vulcan who secretly cares" thing, and I thought B'Elanna's struggles with her identity were generally well-handled, at least for mid-late-90s TV.

I'm honestly surprised how fine I was with Tom/B'Elanna. I was not expecting that relationship to work as well as it did.

Speaking of "didn't expect that to work," Naomi Wildman was genuinely endearing as the "kid on the starship" character type that Star Trek seemed adamant on having in the 80s and 90s. I"m glad the writers learned their lessons post-Wesley Crusher.

Oddly enough, I also found I enjoyed some of the "bad" episodes - Threshold, Tuvix, etc. Voyager got pretty weird, so some of the more questionable creative choices were just damned entertaining. Not all of them, though. Which brings me to...

The Bad:

Oh my god fuck the Kazon. They are easily the worst recurring villain race I've seen on Star Trek. They don't even seem like ST villains, they seem like the kind of thing you'd see on a b-rate late night 1990s crappy sci-fi action show. They're like an attempt to make Klingon copies but without literally anything whatsoever that makes the Klingons compelling.

Speaking of which, fuck Seska, too. I still have a hard time buying that any self-respecting Cardassian would look at the Kazon and go, "yep, I'll throw my lot in with them."

The whole Neelix/Kes thing was...gross. I'm sorry, there's no way around that. They had no chemistry, no compelling reason to be in a relationship, and the whole thing with Kes's age felt like a variation on the theme of "she may look 12 but she's actually a 5000 year old dragon." Whichever producer came up with that needs to have something solid thrown at them.

In general, Neelix was just the worst character for the first couple or three seasons. He got a lot better, but early Neelix was...yikes. I got genuinely frustrated with how much time was focused on him.

I also have mixed feelings about Chakotay. Sometimes he was pretty great, but the whole behind-the-seasons thing with the "cultural advisor" made for some pretty bad early character building, and after they gave up on that, he felt kind of flat. And now that I think of it, inconsistent. It seems like the writers (at least in the early seasons) couldn't decide between making him a tough hardass who'll punch you if you don't get in line or the more calm, measured, cautious voice in contrast to Janeway's bullheadedness.

Seven/Chakotay was just...no.

Other random thoughts:

I have mixed feelings about the EMH. Robert Picardo was great in the role, but as the character progressed, I feel like he got away with crossing lines he really should not have. The entire episode Renaissance Man just pissed me off. Can't say I was thrilled with some of his behavior in Body and Soul, either. The whole running gag of him having a giant ego seemed to swing between hilarious and painful to watch, as well.

The show was good, but it felt like it could've been so much more. Part of it was Paramount's insistence on not having anything serialized, but part of it was also how actionized it got. There's a number of episodes that felt like they could've done something more interesting but instead the producers wanted phasers and explosions.

I have very mixed feelings about how the Borg were handled. On one hand, Seven is an amazing character, the Scorpion 2-parter is probably my favorite pair of episodes in the show's run, and there are a couple other Borg-relate episodes I liked. On the other hand, I thought the Borg as a direct threat got stale quickly, Dark Frontier nerfed them way too much, they felt underwhelming as an enemy in Endgame, and (yes I know this is more of a criticism of First Contact, but still) the Borg having a Queen ruins a lot of the creepy mystique they have. No matter how you slice it, I think the Borg as a recurring enemy were pretty much spent by the end of Voyager.

Favorite episodes (off the top of my head): Scorpion 1&2, Equinox 1&2, Bride of Chaotica!

Final score: 7 out of 9 (you were expecting anything else?)

[fromchaostocosmos]

The amount of incorrect things being said in it are innumerable. Once again it just show the total lack of understanding about Judaism.

On even the most basic rudimentary and fundamental things.

Also the disrespect to Native Americans and their practices is noticeable as well. To use words like demons to describe entities from a culture that does not a have a word "demon" is rude at best and is a form colonization and Supersessionism at it worst.

I know that you are not supposed to say W*ndigo and especially if there is snow. I also know that many Native American people censor the name when writing not out of respect, but as a preventive measure because you don't want to bring attention to it.

That is why I have censored it.

I find it disrespectful to call it a demon.

All this demonology stuff you are entitled to believe in, but what you need to understand is that it comes from Christianity. That is a fact and the reality.

And thus it is rooted in Cultural Appropriation and Supersessionism just as Christianity is.

Because you are still working in that Christian frame work.

Malachim or as they wrongly translated to angels do not have free will within Judaism. Free will is something that unique to humans. That is what makes us human, that is why humans struggle, and that is why humans can not be perfect.

That whole thing about free will and humans being the only creation to have it is a huge part of Judaism and Jewish philosophy. The idea that we straddle the animalisitic world, the base desire, and the spiritual world, higher self, and the balance we need to find in that is again a major aspect of Jewish philosophy.

Yatzer Hara, the evil inclination, is not sin. That is not what it means and that is not what that concept is about.

Listen let me explain something I grew up in studying my people, my faith, the history of my people, the culture, and more both at home and in school.

I took tests and wrote papers on this stuff. I wrote speeches on the Tanach. I studied it. I was and still am immersed in it. I was surrounded by it from birth. I went to school from 8:30 to 4:45 and for the first of the day did Judaic studies on varying topics.

Much of what I described is not uncommon for most Jews.

I still like your average Jewish person find a way to participate in the study and discussion of the documents, scripture, commentary, etc. because that is what we do.

We Jews live it and we breathe and that is how we have been doing since before the Greeks and the Romans and Babylonians, and the Assyrians and whoever else.

And while they might be gone, we on the other hand are not. So for you to try and think that you lecture any one of us on our own stuff is laughable.

You do not have the knowledge, experience, and time to be able to do that.

We study and debate and discuss and argue because for us that is how it is and when we agree it still sounds like we don't because we are passionate and because the Tanach is alive. It lives in every Jew and we breath it. It is a living document.

Everyone deserves the freedom to their own beliefs, but that does not give them to right to steal and take from others and then be dishonest about what they are doing.

Lilith from Judaism is not Lilitue of Sumeria and they are very different.

Lilith is not and was not Adam first wife. That idea comes from a satirical work that was written in the Middle Ages. Not an actual serious philosophical or theological piece called The Alphabet of Ben Sira.

There is a reason that Jew groan every time we see or hear Lilith being called Adams first wife.

I mean there is a lot more fascinating and actual commentary about Adom and Chava that already exists, some of my personal favorites coming from Ramban רמב״ן (Nachmanides).

So thanks for theft and Supersessionism, but like no thank you our dance card in regards to both of those currently already full. You know maybe you make an orderly queue and that would it easier for us to deal with all of you who keep stealing from us and colonizing us and you doing the whole Supersessionism thing to us.

Or maybe we can the like take a number thing. Basically we need to find a better system.

Or maybe just maybe you could just stop doing that shit to us and others. Just a thought.

Hi, Shi! So, I saw your post about white saviours in the community and I wanted to ask about the Judaism one specifically. I am not white but nor am I Jewish, in ethnicity or religion, but I was also told that demonolatry spreads harmful ideas about Judaism. Because of that, I kind of stepped back from my demonolatry research for a moment. But your post did get me thinking. I guess I'm kind of just asking for clarification. Is it okay for me to practice demonolatry as a non-Jewish person or not? Sorry for the super long ask. Thank you, love your blog!

Okay, this is a kind of complex topic.

Demonolatry is the practice of worshipping demons. This can apply to any demon not just those with English names. There are people who worship the demons mentioned in Islam just as much as there are those who worship those with Jewish and Latin names, and there’s a ton of overlap.

The concept of “demon” can only exist if you conceive of some kind of supernatural divide between Gods and spirits. Many demonolaters consider all spirits including Gods to be “Spirits”; the distinction is not important and doesn’t have any real meaning. It’s rare to hear of demons in religions or spiritualities that do not have a dualistic philosophy, you don’t hear about Hindu demons often for example. And the word “demon” in English comes from the Greek “daimon” actually referred to any spirit or divine being. Pinpointing what is and isn’t demon, daemon or spirit is a matter of perspective.

The idea that you can only work with demons that have Hebrew names if you are a Jew is one that literally doesn’t make grammatical sense.

If you are a practicing Jew or hold an Abrahamic theology, to worship or revere any demon would be a violation of your theistic laws. It’s a sin, a big one. Every deity, spirit, God/Goddess from every other religion or belief is a demon to you because you believe there is only one true God. That means Norse, Greek, Egyptian, etc. deities are also considered to be demons.

Because of this theology, every time that people of Abrahamic religions (Christians, Catholics, Jews, Muslims) encountered pagans who worshipped other Gods, they were demonized. Aphrodite/ Astarte became Astaroth, Phosphorus became Lucifer who then became Satan, Cerberus became Naberius, and so on and so on.

It’s incredibly important to remember that just because a name is written in a certain language, Hebrew for example, that does not directly imply that the deity is closed to the religion of Judaism. Not all people who spoke Hebrew were Isrealites, and not every spirit that was described by them was closed to them. Lilith for example was a deity/spirit that was recognized by multiple groups of people before the Israelites existed as a definitive and monotheistic group. Lilith was described by the Sumerians for example, her strongest surviving name and archetype is that which was described by the Jews because the Jews themselves survived and the Sumerians did not.

Most demonic names you will encounter will either be written in Latin, English, or Hebrew, not because these demons are closed to those cultures but because their documentation was only ever really considered legitimate when it was done by the followers of Yahweh. This is one of the major effects of colonization in general. If I as a Phoenician pagan say that Astarte is kind and beautiful, that doesn’t matter to any Roman Catholic. If I as a Catholic say that Astaroth is a perverted demoness who tricks men into demonic sex, the church might actually listen and write that down. Us 1000 years in the future may look at that name and assume Astaroth is a Roman demon and not a Phonecian Goddess who was described by Roman people and documented in Latin.

We speak English, so the demons that are accessible to us are usually recorded from the Abrahamic religions that speak English- Christianity. Our demons are not cosmologically “Christian” nor necessarily have anything to do with the Christian God specifically (Lucifer is a Roman deity and would have had no biblical interactions or connection with YHWH according to their origins). But Christians gave them names and we use those names for the sake of consistency and to reduce confusion across languages. Many times, the original names have been lost and the infernal aspect and name is all that remains. It is the life’s work of many Demonolaters to restore their deitie’s cult to its glory, to discover these dead names or to ensure that the surviving name… survives.

There are a select few demons who’s names originate in the Jewish tradition, Azazel for example, was the scapegoat of the Isrealites who then went on to command the Watchers who became the fathers of the Nephilim. But these demons aren’t necessarily considered to be closed to Judaism- again, because no Jew is ever going to reach out to a demon before the big GOD himself. There is no theological reason why Azazel would only recognize Jewish or Christian people. If you acknowledge Azazel as the scapegoat and use that name, you are referencing his archetype as it was described by the Isrealites. Likewise if you use the name Lilith and consider her to be Adam’s first wife, you are also using her archetype as she was described by the Jews. But that doesn’t mean that Lilith herself is considered to be a sacred figure within the religion of Judaism any more than Aphrodite is. They’re all demons. There is only one God.

There’s a stronger argument to be made for the big three Jewish angels - Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael, being closed to the Jewish religion because they literally are the angels patroned to the people of Israel and they are majority involved in the actual worship of their God- although I don’t really consider them to be closed either because, according to their theology, they would protect any human being created by God (which would be everyone).

The thing that you actually need to consider is if the deity is:

1. Culturally tied specifically and only to the people inside that closed religion- Demons were said to fuck with everyone, all of humanity, not just Jews. The Wendigo was a culturally significant creature that specifically targeted the Indigenous peoples of Turtle Island.

2. Intrinsic to the actual act of worship/ practicing itself- No practicing Jew incorporates Lilith or any demon into their prayers in the way they might with Archangel Michael.

3. Conceived of by the culture itself- Lilith is far older than Judaism and they do not claim to have conceived of her, whereas Michael was literally created by the Isrealites and was always said to act in the best interest of Israel as a nation.

4. Is revered and considered sacred- If I call Lilith or Belial nasty little whores, no jew is going to flinch, they probably agree. If I even speak the name of their God which is considered to be so sacred that it should not even be said in prayer, that’s insanely offensive. If I use the Tetragrammaton or wear it frivolously, someone is going to call me out.

Many western occultists have certainly appropriated sacred things from other cultures, ESPECIALLY from Judaism. Rather than admit their clear inspiration they bastardized the names and essentially stole incredibly important spiritual concepts (Qabalah). As much value is there is in the Qliphothic tradition it is also majorly appropriated from Jewish mysticism which is supposed to be knowledge closed to specific Rabbis. That’s why I’m not the biggest fan of people like Aliester Crowley.

This doesn’t mean to say that you can’t learn about anything Jewish, or Indigenous or Muslim etc. I try my best to always learn from people who are actually of the faith and not asshats who try to take the culture out of the practice. Some things genuinely are sacred and should not be appropriated, I don’t think that demons in general are one of those things.

It’s also important to remember that practices and deities aren’t always synonymous.

The Loa sprits of Voodoo religions are closed because they are ancestral spirits specific to the people in that culture. I can’t invoke my Haitian friend’s great great great grandmother and expect her to do my bidding. I can’t invoke the ancestral spirits of the Indigenous peoples of America and expect it to recognize me. I can’t even pronounce those names.

Hoodoo being closed to the black community is due to Hoodoo being not only a practice,but a survival mechanism of the black slaves who were imported into America during the slave trade. It was the blending of African spirituality with the assimilated Christianity of their masters. But theologically, most black people who practice Hoodoo have a predominantly Abrahamic faith, with belief in the Bible (although usually an alternate version) and belief in the one true God. You cannot practice the act of Hoodoo if you do not have the context of your experience as black person and the unique familial/ancestral relationships and knowledge they possess.

Likewise, you cannot practice Native American spirituality, or smudge with white sage because you do not have any experience or context living as an aboriginal in this land. Due to … yknow, colonization and genocide, most aboriginal tribes have opted to keep their practices extremely closed and sacred. I couldn’t even do it if I wanted to because I don’t even know where to start, I would have to be taught by the people they have elected to know this sacred practice.

You cannot be a practicing Jew if you are not initiated into the religion. Working with these fringe spirits is not nearly the same as appropriating the closed Jewish practice. What I and other demonolaters do is not even remotely close.

Demonolatry is not organized, it’s a self actualizing practice. Sure we have priests and priestesses, but we usually operate in cults.

I don’t know how to explain the irony in this take because if demonolaters and outcasts don’t work with and worship these spirits … literally no one will. The left hand path is crooked for a reason, alternative subcultures are alternative for a reason. The cults of Phosphorus and Lilith have never been as big as they are now. For these fringe deities to have survived so long and somehow even entered the mainstream is honestly incredibly impressive lol.

People who are unconcerned with being outcasted from Abrahamic theology aren’t going to stop practicing with their demons because religious people think it’s bad. I’m already practicing witchcraft. I already don’t believe in monotheistic theology, and there’s an entire rainbow of other things I do that are unacceptable to Judaism, Christianity and so on. The thing I care about is not disrespecting the actual culture and the things that are truly important to them.

You won’t really catch me wearing crosses, referencing Catholic practices, or talking about my practice in reference or opposite to Christianity or Judaism. I don’t defile Jewish or Christian traditions or bastardize their teachings. My practice is not the invert of their doctrine. It’s a completely separate and individual practice and philosophy.

This is LONGER THAN I MEANT IT TO BE

TLDR: No, demonolatry is not antisemitic.

It can be antisemitic if you happen to be antisemitic and many antisemitic people have historically ruined the fun for the rest of us (thanks Crowley)

But no, practicing Demonolatry does not make you racist. Being a pagan also doesn’t mean you hate religion.

[bosooka]

What are some of your favorite Bo Katan hcs?

oh man. i have SO many bo headcanons i genuinely don't know where to begin, and also a ton of these were crowdsourced in servers and the like. uhhhhhhh? let's do chronologically i guess???

she and satine are five years apart. they were raised together for the most part, though satine, as her father's heir, got a very different upbringing than she did. bo was relatively sheltered from the reality of the civil war raging as they grew up, while satine saw wayyyy too much at a very young age.

her mother was a member of clan vizsla who married into the kryze clan. she was assassinated when bo and satine were both very very young, so they were mainly raised by their father (and many tutors)

she was sickly as a child, and satine exceeded her in every way, physically, intellectually, etc. which was terrible on bo's self-esteem, though she did eventually catch up to her sister as they got older. this one is stolen from @underworldobsessed whose twin!kryzes live in my heart forever

the sisters being separated was absolutely apocalyptic for them both and neither truly recovered emotionally from it. satine believed bo to be dead for years, and pre in turn told bo that satine was relieved to not have to worry about her anymore.

her armor was once her mother's, per @the-obiwan-for-me's headcanon

also stolen from the-obiwan-for-me, her hair was always a point of vanity for her and she kept it very very long until a fight with pre made her chop it all off

while on the subject of pre: they were in a romantic relationship for years. this is extremely foundational to how i view bo's character in general actually!! he essentially took advantage of her when she was an impressionable and traumatized young woman, and then weaponized her against her sister for fully over a decade. it was totally scummy and abusive and terrible for her and she spends years after his death processing what happened

she was very religious/spiritual when she was young and became a jaded agnostic during the imperial era. what was left of her faith was shattered by the great purge, and she partially blames mandalorian religion for dividing her people and leaving them vulnerable to destruction

she is extremely suspicious and lowkey terrified of the armorer. i know everyone thinks they're friends and i COMPLETELY disagree, every time they're onscreen together i fear for bo's life. bo knows that the alliance with the COTW completely rests on the armorer's whim and she doesn't trust it for a second.

she loves little kids, especially grogu, whom she is teaching to read

she saved some of satine's clothes when the empire destroyed mandalore. they were in korkie's possession until he also died, so now they're hers and she looks at them when she really wants to feel sorry for herself. she takes 100% responsibility for satine's death and refused the darksaber the first time on the basis of her guilt.

in general bo is just someone who is very much a product of her environment. if she had a healthier upbringing and/or less exposure to pre she would have been an entirely different person. she is intensely principled and has the same heart of gold as satine, she is just younger and significantly easier to manipulate. her biggest weakness is that she is naive!!

idk if by favorite you meant "cute" or "extremely important to how i understand her character" so i covered...well mostly the latter but i think there are some milder ones in here???

[canisalbus]

hey i was listening to take me to church my hozier and youre probably already aware but . that song fits vasco and machete so fucking well i think. im so. hnrjrgjfhkndhfjkf these gayass dogs have invaded my head

.

[piko-rose]

My Personal Headcanon On Why Amy's Love For Sonic Died Down Lately (and their dynamic)

When they were younger, Amy's love for Sonic was pretty extreme, and Sonic was, understandable, uncomfortable for the most part. He knows she means well, but that girl needs to calm down.

She can fight, but sometimes her hammer could only stun her enemies for a while. (It took her a long time to get rid of that robot that has been chasing her around Station Square.) She wasn't fully independent yet, even if she fought on her own a couple of times.

She often follows Sonic and his friends around. She is part of the team, but she was not a strong as she is now at the time yet.

She admires Sonic. A LOT. And Sonic knows that. Obviously, he could only run away from something like that, since he is NOT ready for that kind of thing, and whether Amy takes the hint or stop, she still loves him.

...BUT, I think things were slightly starting to change between her and Sonic after Lost World.

Remember this line?

You remember that? Okay, okay. Here's another totally unrelated question:

Before the events of Lost World, when was the last time Amy said "I love you" to Sonic out loud?

...YEP. 😈 (Unless I'm missing something, let me know lmao)

As more games and adventures come out, the characters get slightly older, and Amy is 12 to 13 now, and she is most certainly at that age where her body starts to change, but especially on how she views Sonic.

She knows she loves Sonic, but it was this moment during her change where she actually wanted to admit that she loves him.

I believe that Amy was all about sharing her affection to him not through confessions, but through obvious hints. Sonic totally got it, and there was no need to confess. Sonic knows she loves her.

...But she never said it. And she almost did, but she never did again for a while.

I think this was the moment in her life where, oh, God, she actually loves Sonic. SHE LOVES HIM, WHAT.

And she was looking back at all the times she had with Sonic that she can now see were unpleasant to Sonic (At least that's what she thinks) and that's probably why she isn't so expressive about her love to him than how she used to back then.

She wasn't sure what to do with this realization, and sets aside it for a while, and nearly stayed as her casual, peppy self... until the Eggman War happened.

During the 6 months of being with the Resistance, fighting Eggman's army all day and all night, all she can think of was Sonic.

She dreams that he still with not just her, but with her friends. She just wanted to see Sonic again, she just wants to be with her hero again.

But I'd like to think that she was also thinking about how she used to treat Sonic back when they were younger, how Sonic would almost always run away from her whenever she asks him out, or always look so uncomfortable whenever she gets so close to him.

Cringing at those memories big time, she wanted to change and hopefully when Sonic is okay and comes back, she can be better for him.

...Or will he still find her uncomfortable regardless? Would he even be happy to see her at all if he did survive?

But, hold on! She can't just give up her love for Sonic! He made her who she is today! A peppy, nature-loving, hammer-swinging, confident, brave... loud-mouth... annoying... Sonic obsessed... weak... pathetic... lonely little girl.

If she gives up on Sonic, it'll be like she gave up on the one hedgehog who saved her life. If she didn't she'll still be the same ol' Amy.

I also like to think she had parents a long while before she met Sonic, and was even expecting a little sister, but a robot invasion happened from where she was and attacked her parents and instead of trying to save them, after getting hurt, she ran away, hoping that they'll come back okay. But they never did.

She was all alone, and needed someone, a friend, a new family, someone who will hold her hand, anyone, to be there for her. But she was ignored by lots, and at that point, she's better off by herself, but still longed for company.

Eventually though, her tarot cards told her her future hero, and there might be hope after all. She encountered Sonic, held onto the belief of the cards tight, and the rest is history.

So, with that headcanon in mind, not only did Amy loose her parents that she didn't save because of her cowardliness (she was only so little at the time that happened) and also Sonic, who she thought will be her only hope, but now gone.

She doesn't even care if he did come back, he'd probably hate her now after everything she did to him, always talking about their "future wedding" or forcing him to go to Twinkle Park.

For the last few months of the war, it was nothing but Amy mentally beating herself up for either refusing to change or moving on, and they are both not fine choices.

She loves Sonic, but he does not love her, and she finally, finally realized it. And it's probably for the best if no body loved her at all.

But of course Sonic did survive and all of her worries wash away in an instant, she's just not expressive about her love for Sonic AT ALL now, since she's still worried about it but rather not mention it to Sonic because it doesn't matter.

If Sonic doesn't love her, then her feelings don't matter to him, and according to Amy herself, that is okay.

But also, I'd like to think that Sonic was thinking about his friends a lot up in the Death Egg for the past months, sometimes it's Tails (worried for his safety), sometimes it's Shadow (because he's wondering why he would join Eggman.) At some point, for a few days, Amy was in his mind the longest, and he felt bad about how he thought he was rude and pushy to her.

He wondered if she's not thinking about it too much, and if she is, will she give up on him? Yeah, he doesn't feel the same and still not looking for a relationship, but it's so strange but interesting how anyone could ever like someone like Sonic the Hedgehog. Amy was never afraid to show that, and she probably might be now.

He couldn't help but feel guilty. They were kids when she was like this, but he was so... arrogant at the time too. Not a lot happened at the time yet. He'd always have trouble expressing how much he value his friends, until he shattered the Paradox Prism. (I'd like to think Prime took place before Forces. It makes sense.)

She is such a sweet girl, and he probably made her believe that he didn't care for her. Just because he doesn't feel the same, that doesn't mean he hates her at all.

He wished he never ran away from Amy... Worrying for his little bro and wishing to be a good person for Amy was when Sonic cried in the Death Egg for the first and only time.

Frontiers, in my opinion, is kind of confirming their dynamic now. Sonic is a lot more sincere and kinder to Amy and she is not all hyperactive and lovey to Sonic. There is probably a real reason for this now.

They are both hiding their feelings from them, and they are both unaware of this. Amy, hiding her mental issues from Sonic, and Sonic, hiding his guilt away from Amy.

None of those things are important now. Sonic is with Amy and Amy is with Sonic. They are here with each other. They can be finally be better for each other now.

They don't care if they'll ever be something more when they get older. None of that matters anymore. They are here with each other. They can be finally be better for each other now.

Maybe someday they'll both talk about it, but for now, the present is important. They care about each other too much to think about it right now.

It's the kind of love that is unbreakable. It doesn't even have to be romantic. It's just love. Love is important for everyone, in any form. It's something Sonic and his friends need. And especially Sonic and Amy.

Amy Rose is the living embodiment of love, and without her, a lot would go downhill for Sonic and co. Heck, if it weren't for her, Shadow wouldn't have never remembered Maria's promise, which lead him to save the world with Sonic, before he temporarily disappeared from their lives for a while.

She is always there to lend a helping hand for anybody, even bad guys like Metal Sonic, and despite what she had been through, both in Forces and headcanon wise, she still fights back, even without her hammer.

She will pick you back up on your feet, reminding you that you are important and that you are loved, and that you should never give up. It's pretty much the words of encouragement she herself needed also...

She is still the happy, hyper, butt-kicking hedgehog we all know and love, but she still need someone to pick her back up on her feet after so long. Thankfully, she has her friends and her blue hero. The hero who made her who she is today.

I think Amy has no idea how important she thought she is, but Sonic does. Sonic knows fully well how important she is to a lot of people. It's about time he returns the favor to her. It's his turn to remind her how much a lot of people love her.

How much he loves her.

And I feel like The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog was the moment where their dynamic really shined, but also the starting point of their relationship not only healing, but also the next chapter of what's to come for them.

Everyone, friends old and new, gathered around for a special birthday. A birthday for the confident, unshakable, and radiant Amy Rose.

It was such a special moment in Amy's life. After years of chasing and following the people she look up to, she is part of the team, but most importantly, she is part of the family.

She is fully realized as someone more than just a fangirl, but someone strong, courageous, creative, kind and a big inspiration for others.

I feel like this moment here...

-is where Amy is eternally grateful to call her friends her family. A family she thought she'll never have again. She's not alone anymore, and as long as they're by her side, she'll never will be again.

Her chasing days are over. She's finally caught up to them. She's finally home.

And it's all thanks to Sonic.

If it weren't for him, she'd probably be alone forever. Her past moments with Sonic might be embarrassing to look back on for a while, but they are good memories regardless, because they involve him.

Sonic saved her life in more ways than one, and despite everything, he's grateful to have her too.

He cares about her. He really does... And in her eyes, that all she needed to know. As long as Sonic loves her in his own way, she'll be happy.

Amy hasn't given up on Sonic. As long as Amy always supports him, he'll be happy.

Maybe sometime in the future, they can talk about their problems, but that's a story for another time. At this point, they need to. Right now, they are happy. They are okay.

They are here for each other. They are finally better for each other now.

"You guys won't ever leave me, right?"

"Wouldn't dream of it."

[hopecomesbacktolife]

thinking of rereading the entirety of HoME again. for my health

[gallusrostromegalus]

Move To A Darker Place

This is a story of Man Vs. Machine.

---

Last March, my father attempted to file his Taxes.

My beloved father is a Boomer. Unlike most Boomers, my father is rather handy with technology because he was one of the people that had a not-insignificant hand in Developing a hell of a lot of it. He was studying Computer Science at Cal Poly before the computer science degree existed. I have many fond childhood memories of skipping through the aisles of various electronic and computer part warehouses while Dad described something that either terrified the staff or made them worship him as a God.  He taught himself how to use his smartphone.  Internationally.

So when he saw the option to file digitally with the IRS through the “ID.me” program, he leapt at the chance to celebrate the Federal Government finally entering the Digital Age.

It was all going swimmingly for about six hours, until he was ready to file and the system told him that it needed to verify his identity. 

“Very Well.” said my father, a man unafraid of talking to himself and getting something out of the conversation. “It wouldn’t do for me to get someone else’s return.”

The System told him that it needed him to take a “Digital Image ID”.

a.k.a: A Selfie.

“A-ha!” Dad beams. Dad is very good at taking selfies. He immediately pulled out his phone, snapped one, and tried to upload it.

Please log into your Id.me Account and use the provided app to submit your Digital Image ID. The System clarified.

“Oh. You should have said so.”  Dad pouted, but used his phone to log onto the ID.me account, do the six security verification steps and double-checked that the filing looked the same as it did on the desktop, gave the IRS like nine permissions on his phone, and held up the camera to take his Federal Privacy Invasion Selfie.

Please align your face to the indicated grid. Said The System, pulling up a futuristic green-web-of-polygons approximation.

“Ooh, very Star Trek. Gene Roddenberry would HATE this!” Dad said cheerfully, aligning his face to the grid.  My father is a bit… cavalier, when it comes to matters of personal information and federal government, because he’s been on FBI watchlists since the late 60’s when he was protesting The Vietnam War and Ronald Regan before he’d broken containment. Alas.

Anyway, there is very little information the federal government does not have on him already, but he’s as good at stalking the FBI as they are at stalking him, and had worked out a solution:  He has something approaching a friendship with the local Federal Agent (Some guy named “Larry”. Allegedly), and got Larry hooked on Alternative Histories and Dad’s collection of carefully-researched “there is very likely buried treasure here” stories, and Larry is loath to bother his favorite Historical Fanfiction author too much.

But I digress.

After thinking for a minute, The System came back with an Error Message. Please remove glasses or other facial obstructions.

And here is where the real trouble began.

See, my father wears glasses that do substantially warp the appearance of his face, because he is so nearsighted that he is legally blind without them. His natural focal point is about 4 inches in front of his nose.  While Dad can still take a selfie because he (approximately) knows where his phone is if it’s in his hand, he cannot see the alignment grid.

He should ask someone to take it for him! I hear the audience say. Yes, that would be the sane and reasonable thing to do, but Dad was attempting to do taxes at his residence in Fort Collins, while his immediate family was respectively in Denver, Texas and Canada.  He tried calling our neighbors, who turned out to be in Uganda.

He looked down at the dog, Arwen, and her little criminal paws that can open doorknobs, but not operate cell phones.

She looked back at him, and farted.

“Well, I’ll give it a try, but if it gives me too much trouble, I’ll call Larry, and Larry can call the IRS about it.” Dad told her. 

She continued to watch him. Arwen is an Australian Kelpie (a type of cattle-herding dog), going on 14 years old, deaf as a post and suffering from canine dementia now, but she still retains her natural instinct to Micromanage. She was also trained as a therapy dog, and even if she can’t hear my dad, still recognizes the body language of a man setting himself up for catastrophe.

So, squinting in the late afternoon light next to the back door, Dad attempted to line his face up with a grid he could only sort-of see, and took A Federal Selfie.

The System thought about it for a few moments.

Image Capture Failed: Insufficient Contrast. The System replied. Please move to a darker place.

“...Huh.” Dad frowned. “Alright.”

He moved to the middle of his office, away from the back door, lit only by the house lighting and indirect sunlight, and tried again.

Image Capture Failed. Please move to a darker place.

“What?” Dad asked the universe in general.

“Whuff.” Arwen warned him against sunk costs.

Dad ignored her and went into the bathroom, the natural habitat of the selfie. Surely, only being lit by a light fixture that hadn’t been changed since Dad was attempting to warn everyone about Regan would be suitably insufficient lighting for The System.  It took some negotiating, because that bathroom is “Standing Room Only” not “Standing And Holding Your Arms Out In Front Of You Room”.  He ended up taking the selfie in the shower stall.

As The System mulled over the latest attempt, Arwen shuffled over and kicked open the door to watch.

Image Capture Failed. Please Move to a Darker Place.

“Do you mean Spiritually?” Dad demanded.

“Whuff.” Arwen cautioned him again.

Determined to succeed, or at least get a different error message that may give him more information, Dad entered The Downstairs Guest Room.  It is the darkest room in the house, as it is in the basement, and only has one legally-mandated-fire-escape window, which has blinds.  Dad drew those blinds, turned off the lights and tried AGAIN.

Image Capture Failed. Please Move To A Darker Place.

“DO YOU WANT ME TO PHOTOGRAPH MYSELF INSIDE OF A CAVE??” Dad howled. 

“WHUFF!” Arwen reprimanded him from under the pull-out bed in the room. It’s where she attempts to herd everyone when it’s thundering outside, so the space is called her ‘Safety Cave’.

Dad frowned at the large blurry shape that was The Safety Cave.

“Why not?” he asked, the prelude to many a Terrible Plan.  With no small amount of spiteful and manic glee, Dad got down onto the floor, and army-crawled under the bed with Arwen to try One Last Time. Now in near-total darkness, he rolled on his side to be able to stretch his arms out, Arwen slobber-panting in his ear, and waited for the vague green blob of the Facial grid to appear.

This time, when he tapped the button, the flash cctivated.

“GOD DAMN IT!” Dad shouted, dropping the phone and rubbing his eyes and cursing to alleviate the pain of accidentally flash-banging himself. Arwen shuffled away from him under the bed, huffing sarcastically at him.

Image Capture Failed. Please move to a darker place.

“MOTHERFU- hang on.” Dad squinted.  The System sounded strange. Distant and slightly muffled.

Dad squinted really hard, and saw the movement of Arwen crawling out from under the bed along the phone’s last known trajectory.

“ARWEN!” Dad shouted, awkwardly reverse-army crawling out from under the bed, using it to get to his feet and searching for his glasses, which had fallen out of his pocket under the bed, so by the time he was sighted again, Arwen had had ample time to remove The Offending Device.

He found her out in the middle of the back yard, the satisfied look of a Job Well Done on her face. She did not have the phone. 

“Arwen.” Dad glared. It’s a very good glare. Dad was a teacher for many years and used it to keep his class in order with sheer telepathically induced embarrassment, and his father once glared a peach tree into fecundity.  

Arwen regarded him with the casual interest a hurricane might regard a sailboat tumbling out of its wake. She is a force of nature unto herself and not about to be intimidated by a half-blind house ape.  She also has cataracts and might not be able to make out the glare.

“I GIVE UP!” Dad shouted, throwing his hands in the air and returning to the office to write to the IRS that their selfie software sucks ass. Pleased that she had gotten her desired result, Arwen followed him in.

To Dad’s immense surprise, the computer cheerfully informed him that his Federally Secure Selfie had been accepted, and that they had received and were now processing his return!

“What the FUCK?” Dad glared. “Oh well. If I’ve screwed it up, Larry can call me.”

---

I bring this up because recently, Dad received an interesting piece of mail.

It was a letter from the IRS, addressed to him, a nerve-wracking thing to recessive at the best of times.  Instead of a complaint about Dad’s Selfie Skills, it was a letter congratulating him on using the new ID.me System.  It thanked him for his help and expressed hopes he would use it again next year, and included the selfie that The System had finally decided to accept.

“You know, my dad used to complain about automation.” Dad sighed, staring at the image. “Incidentals my boy!  My secretary saves the state of California millions of dollars a year catching small errors before they become massive ones! He’d say. Fought the human resources board about her pay every year.  I used to think he was overestimating how bad machines were and underestimating human error, but you know? He was right.”

He handed me the image.

My father was, technically, in the image.  A significant amount of the bottom right corner is taken up by the top of his forehead and silver hair.  Most of the image, the part with the facial-recognition markers on it, was composed of Arwen’s Alarmed and Disgusted Doggy face.

“Oh no!” I cackled. “Crap, does this mean you have to call the IRS and tell them you’re not a dog?”

“Probably.” Dad sighed. “I know who I’m gonna bother first though.” he said, taking out his phone (Dad did find his phone a few hours after Arwen absconded with it when mom called and the early spinach started ringing). 

“Hey Larry!” Dad announced to the local federal agent. “You’re never gonna believe this. My dog filed my taxes!”

Larry considered this for a moment. “Is this the dog that stole my sandwich? Out of my locked  car?” he asked suspiciously.

“The very same.” Dad grinned.

“Hm. Clever Girl.” Federal Agent Larry sighed. “I figured it was only a matter of time before she got into tax fraud.”

---

I'm a disabled artist making my living writing these stories. If you enjoy my stories, please consider supporting me on Ko-fi or Pre-ordering my Family Lore Book on Patreon. Thank you!

[hoshigray]

𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬, 𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬 | toji fushiguro

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Your ex-husband bringing the kids over for trick-or-treating is one thing; him wanting to spend the night at your place is another. But it's just for the night. There's no way one night can rekindle some old feelings...right?

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: ex-husband! Toji x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - the reader is around their mid-30s - Tsumiki (age 11) and Megumi (age 9) - mutual pining - kissing/makeout sessions - unprotected sex - Daddy kink - breast sucking + nipple play - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - spooning + mating press - cervix fucking - breeding kink - praise - clitoral play (pressing and grinding) - pet names (baby, good girl, mama, princess, sweetie, sweet thing) - you and Toji have been divorced for five years - cameos: Gojo, Utahime and Mei Mei - mention of drool/spit and tears - humor bc I'm [not] funny.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.6k (....dawg.)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: happy Halloween, everyone!! so, randomly missed writing ex-husband! toji bc it's lowkey my favorite, soooo yeah, this is what we're doing to celebrate the end of the month! anywho, happy October, beautiful ppl, and tysm for reading my works!! Alsooo, ty for 2.8k!!!

“Trick-or-treat!!”

“Gasp—Oh my goodness!” 

“We came to celebrate Halloween! Also, Megumi forgot his toothbrush here again.”

Opening your door to children at the sunset of Halloween day isn’t out of the ordinary or anything special. However, it’s always a pleasant surprise when it’s two kids you hold dear to your heart. You greet them with a hug, two siblings you know too well to say you’re acquainted with. If anything, you’re practically family. 

The raven-haired brother, referred to as Megumi, speaks up. “It’s not my fault! Dad was rushing me last time.”

“Because you had to bring your stuffed animals last time, holding us back for your baseball practice.” Tsumiki, the older sister, snapped back. The two argue amongst themselves in front of you as you try to mediate. It’s no avail until another voice comes to the fray.

“All right, chill out, you two.” The voice belonged to the person approaching the porch stairs, your eyesight capturing the familiar figure walking up with two duffle bags. The one standing tall before you was the father of the children, Toji Fushiguro. Who’s also known as your one and only former husband. “Get inside and finish y’r homework, or else we’re goin’ back home.” 

The siblings stop bickering and head inside, taking off their shoes at the foyer and walking upstairs. Now that they’re gone, you turn to the man with the jet-black hair, his viridian orbs focused on you. The weather was chilly, so the man wore his usual dark denim jacket over his plain black sweatshirt, matching his jeans. “You look good, big guy. What’s in the bags?”

He greets you with a curled lip, and the scar on the side of his lip lifts. “Picked them up from their after-school sports, so it’s their sports gear and costumes for tonight. Mind helpin’ me here?” 

“Hmmm,” you merge your facial expressions to that of faux pondering, turning your back to Toji. “Nah, can’t. Got dinner to finish making.”

“Hmph, should’ve known.” He makes his way through between you and the front door. “Wouldn’t wanna break your pretty nails carrying heavy shit, huh, princess?” 

You glare at him using the nickname, hating his patronizing gaze. “From what I remembered, you would never let me carry the heavy stuff because you thought I was too fragile and easy to break. So how about that, Mr. Knight in Shining Armor?”

“Really? I don’t remember sayin’ all that before. You must’ve put me in a spell.” 

“Probably, I’ve been told I’m quite cute~.”

“Mmm, nah, more like an old hag of a witch.” Toji barks a laugh at your offended reaction, and he immediately ducks and heads for the stairs when you throw a sandal at him.

“At the very least, say I’m a cute witch, fucker.” You say the final word under your breath, grabbing the sandal you threw and heading back to the kitchen.

To say you and Toji were acquainted with one another would be the biggest understatement of the century. The two of you met a decade ago, fell madly in love, and married within a year of the relationship. When you tied the knot, Tsumiki had to have been two years old, and Megumi just turned one year old. You two had been together for four years after that, and you could confidently say those were one of [if not THE] best years of your life. You often second-guessed yourself being in a relationship with someone who had children, fearing that they wouldn’t like you or ignore you.

However, those worries were blown right away as the days went by. Every time you spent time with the children brought you three closer than ever; it was to the point that they saw you as their mother. How sweet! And there’s no denying that Toji loved you. The man would break someone’s nose for you  — yes, it happened before, and it wasn’t pretty — for you were his sweet little thing that kept him going.  

Well, if it was so great, why the divorce? Let’s just say you weren’t Toji’s first love. That title would have to be awarded to the Megumi’s mother. Even in her unfortunate passing, you can tell that Toji loved that woman like no other. It didn’t make you jealous or anything, seeing the man you love still mourn for a dead woman. Hell, you’d probably do the same if you were him. But, you can’t lie; it felt like you were cast over a “shadow” when it came to her influence. It was damn near suffocating to bear, especially in those four years of marriage. So, for your sake and his aching heart, you pulled him aside and suggested a divorce. And Toji didn’t fight you on the proposition, signing the papers and setting you free from the thick air.

Although things ended between you two, that didn’t mean things stopped being what they were. If anything, it was as if nothing happened at all. Even if you still don’t live under the same roof, you still make time to hang with the Fushiguros, whether invited to some occasion or exchange phone calls or texts to check up on them. Even now, five years after your separation, it warms your heart knowing that you get to interact with the people you care about. 

There are moments you find yourself missing living under the same roof with all three of them and living alone can be pretty lonely. But all in all, as long as they’re comfortable and trust you enough to be around, there’s no need to change things up again. Like right now — the four of you sit at the dinner table eating before the kids go off trick-or-treating.

“Are you going to trick-or-treat with us, Y/n?” The brown-haired child sitting next to you asks while finishing up her dinner. 

“Sorry, not this time, gotta be at a Zoom meeting for my job in a few minutes. But I do have someone else to take my place. Gojo will be here at around—Why are you two making that face?” You stop mid-sentence to notice Megumi and Toji at the other side of the table, displaying disgusted facial expressions at the mention of the white-haired other’s name.

“Why him?” They said in unison.

“Why not??” You question their irritation.

“He’s so annoying…” Again, in unison. Proof enough that they’re father and son.

You sigh as you get up to take your plate to the sink. “Oh, come on, you two, it’s not like he’ll be with you guys the entire night. He has a party at a friend’s he’s going to later.” 

“Isn’t he too old to trick-or-treat?” Tsumiki questions, noting that Gojo is way past his undergraduate years. 

“He is, but whatever gets that prick any free sweets,” Toji answers his daughter before getting up to put his dish in the sink. 

You exit the kitchen, head into the living room, and sit on the couch. The laptop you had placed there was ready to open and unlock, and you clicked on applications and windows to look through before your meeting started in the next three to two minutes. He should be here about—

DING-DONG!!

Now.

Right on cue, you motion for Toji to grab the front door, and he follows your command. “Kids, Gojo’s here!” You shout out to the two kids who still sit at the table. “When you’re done eating, you can go upstairs and put your costumes on. But whoever finishes last has to do the dishes.” You can hear commotion from the table as the brunette rushes to put her dish in the sink and dash for the stairs. Megumi groans to himself; you giggle when you hear him mutter an “Aww man…”

You pull out your headphones to connect to your laptop, put them in their respective ears, and prepare yourself for the meeting. Ignoring the faint passive-aggressive tones of your ex-husband when greeting Gojo at the door…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Your eyes flutter open, noticing the lighting change around the living room. The orange sunlight no longer decorated the space, substituted with the gradual darkness that overtakes you. The only source of light you can figure out is the flashing from the television screen.

Aside from the TV, there are no other signs of life. There aren’t any signs of Tsumiki or Megumi around playing or causing a raucous. It could only mean the two are still trick-or-treating with Gojo. 

One blink, two blinks. I must’ve fallen asleep after the meeting… You hum while sinking to the couch, burying your face into the pillow. 

But…since when did your pillow act like it was breathing with a heartbeat? And…I smelt that cologne before…How?

“Ya awake now?”

You raise your head, realizing you are not lying on your couch. Technically, you were; however, you were lying on something else on the furniture with you – more like someone. 

It’s then you realize that you were lying on Toji during your entire slumber, him leaning on the end of the couch, one leg spread to make room for you to sleep on him while you sit on the other. And you can guess that you had your head on his chest, snuggling up to his warm figure. He looks at you with his green eyes now darkened by the room, yet you can see their glow from the television light. And that small smile he gives you, the scar on the right side of his lip lifted upward. The familiar butterflies in your stomach flutter like before. Like old times sake…That must be embarrassing, huh?

You frantically try to get off of him, “Sorry about that, I thought—“

“No, no,” Toji places a stern hand on your back, keeping you from moving further. “You were comfortable.” 

You stare at him for a few seconds until your face contours to a look, and a smile starts to creep up while you situate yourself back to your original position, pressing your face back on his chest to listen to the beats of his heart again. “I recall having this couch all to myself not too long ago, so where’d you come from?”

“Well, I wanted to watch some sports highlights, but I figured you’d kick my ass if I pulled you off and had you sleep on the floor instead.” With the click of your tongue, he chortles. You bet your ass I would. “So, I decided to have ya sleep on me while I watch TV.”

“What’s wrong with the other side of the couch? It’s quite vacant and enough for a big guy like you.” 

“True,” his hand rubs circles on your back, an old habit he did when he used to have you like this. “But then I’d be lonely.” 

You titter. “That’s big for someone who said he thrives on being alone.”

“I thrive being alone when I’m working.” You’re glad he can’t see your eyes roll; he’d probably grab you by the cheeks like a child. “Besides, why would I wanna be alone when I have you for myself.”

And there it is, your cheeks begin to warm up. Or was it because you’re so close to him that his heat is transferring to you? That’s probably it, yeah. Let’s change the subject…”How long was I out for? I remember the kids left around 7:30-ish.”

“Mmm, it’s going to eleven right now.”

Three and a half hours? Damn. “It’s past their bedtime.”

Toji scoffs. The abrupt motion of his chest rising is satisfying in a way that makes you even more comfortable. “You still think they’re gonna sleep with all that sweet shit they got?” He snickers some more as you shake your head.

“They know better. When you guys get home, be sure to put their candy bags on the top shelf of the closet for the morning.” 

“Still traumatized from that one time?” 

“Uhhh, yes??” The memory flashes to you for a quick moment, but the dread from before still haunts you. Megumi was six years old and Tsumiki seven, returning home from trick-or-treating and immediately tasting their labor from that night. However, what you didn’t expect was for them both to eat almost half their bags. Let’s just say, thanks to their sugar rushes, they didn’t drop dead until the hour hand touched two of the morning. “Unless it’s the weekend, never again.”

The way the older man chuckles is so therapeutic — it nearly makes you want to fall asleep again. “You weren’t the one chasin' Megumi all over the place tryin' to get him to sleep. Little squirt gets his speed from me.”

“Awww, poor you~” You can sense the glare as you respond in a condescending, sing-song tune. “You and him are always butting heads. Like father, like son.”

“Tch, hate that sayin’ so fuckin’ much.”

“Why? ‘Because it’s true?”

“Shut up.” The hand he used to rest his head comes down to pinch your nose. You wriggle out of his hold with giggles, but he happily keeps you grounded to him with his stronghold and a leg wrapped around to prevent yours from moving. “He only listens to you. Such a sweet lil’ baby to you, huh? Puttin’ my own son against me.”

More giggles prompt out of tiny guilt, and you bring up a hand to rub on his chest. “He’s such a bright boy now. Growing up so big and fast.”

“Miki, too. That girl is way too smart fr' me to catch up. And she’s becoming so kind and strong, crazy to think she made me play teacups when she could barely go down the stairs by herself.” Toji hums, the vibrations felt on the pads of your fingers. “Think she gets that from you.” 

You shook your head. “They’re your babies. They do amazing things because they have a big guy like you to catch them if they ever fall.”

“Hmm, fair…But let’s not pretend I’m the best dad in the world. Fuck, never in my life did I think I’d be a dad, especially with two kids. I didn’t know shit back then — still! I still don’t know shit.” You don’t say anything, just listening to him voice his thoughts to you. Because he knows you’d listen – you always do. “If you weren’t there for them, I don’t think they’d be shining like this. Y’re definitely the thing that brought us up together. They look up to you so much. Ya did so well with them.”

Nodding aimlessly, his black sweatshirt grazing on your cheek. “Thank you. Same to you. Didn’t do so bad yourself, big guy.”

“Mmm.”

Nothing is said between you two after that. The only thing that makes noise is the voices coming from the television. The volume lowered, an initiative you could guess from Toji wanting you to get some rest. The silence was too awkward that it might torture some, but it was fine where it was. There was no need to change it, especially when you were comfortable in each other’s embrace.

That is, until Toji asks, “Do you miss it?” The rubs on your back go slower, his fingertips drawing a ticklish sensation.

“Of course I do. All the time.” You answer honestly, turning your head to rest your chin on him. Your eyes glimpse directly at his, giving him a tiny grin. “Why ask? I know the kids miss me being around; what about you? Miss me nagging and putting you to work all the time?”

He sneers at your comment. “Every day.”

It was such a simple answer, yet it had the power to wipe that smirk right off your face. Your eyes locked in his sight, and your heart tuning to an irregular rhythm. Oh, come on, Y/n, get a grip! “Ahem—Toji, I hope you know that I never stopped missing everything we had — I never will. Those years that we shared were probably the best I’ve had. We had happy moments, others sad, of course. But, God, do I miss it all. I miss it so much. I miss having you guys here. Miki and Gumi and—“

“Me?” Good Lord, if this man doesn’t stop looking at you with those goddamn eyes of his, such captivating orbs that say more than he lets on. Your breath hitches, and so does the hand on your back. “Hmm? Ya miss me, baby?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Why’d you have to call me that? And it gets worse when he places his free hand on your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin while the forefinger teases the lobe and tragus of your ear. Goddammnit…

“...Yes,” your voice was down a whisper, which could easily be mistaken with the television. But you know Toji heard you, loud and clear. “Especially you, Toji.” You said it. The words that he wanted to hear from you. They felt so forbidden to say, yet it was the truth. You avert your gaze away from him. But you knew that wouldn’t work, not right now. Toji taps your cheek with his thumb, and your eyes sheepishly return to his.

He doesn’t say anything, and that makes your heart beat at an unbearable rate. It’s all you can hear when you stare into his deep emerald eyes, the sound of it ringing your eardrums as if you could puke. Your throat running dry, so you gulp to ease the uncomfortable bob. If something could just happen to end this anxious torture, that would be great. 

And then your prayers get answered: something does happen. Toji slowly brings his face closer to yours — your body goes rigid, and you instantly face away before the inevitable happens. No, I didn’t mean that!

“Aht aht, don’t do that, baby.” His hand slithers from your cheek to your chin, forcing you to face straight at him. “Lemme see you.”

“Toji, wait,” your voice travels out in a shaky breath. “We shouldn’t be doing this. We can’t cross this line anymore.”

He listens to your pleas, but his body does otherwise. Placing a gentle kiss on your forehead while the hand on your back snakes downward. “Why not?” His gruff voice dialed down to a whisper.

“Because—Mmmm…” Toji interrupts you by licking the helix of your ear. Oh, you slick bastard. “We’re supposed to be done…” 

“That’s not stoppin’ me from takin’ care of my sweet thing.” Jesus Christ, you almost melted from the way he whispered that to your ear. He’s pulling out all the same old tricks, and it gets more hellish by the second as you try not to give in. “So, y're gonna let me take care of you like I always do, right, mama?”

Both his hands now rest on your ass, groping it while your hips sway as if they have a mind of their own. The leg between yours comes up slightly, making you ride on it. The heat on your cheeks has already blossomed to your ears, making it hard to think straight. Gripping his sweatshirt, your hips ride his thigh to ease the throbbing sensation that grows with every motion. Good God, you shouldn’t be doing this. You know you shouldn’t be doing this. However, it’s been so long that you felt wanted like this — wanted by him. It’s all the same – his voice, his hands, his words, his body, and the names he calls – yet here you are turning into putty. 

“Haaahh, Mmmfff…Toji, please,” Toji withdraws his face from your shoulder, leaving him to examine your expression. You must look so dumb right now, with your hooded eyes and shivering lips. But, at this point, do you even care? “Please…Treat me right.”

One moment, you see his gaze narrow with a devious glint. Next, you’re taken aback when Toji slams his lips on yours, kissing and sucking your bottom lip until you give him access. With a moan, you open your mouth for him and sink deeper into the kiss. Your hands come around his neck, keeping him focused on you and you alone. Not that he would have it any other way.

His strong hands continue to knead your asscheeks while you hump and grind on his thigh. Nibbling on your lip, you whimper helplessly for him. It strokes his ego, knowing he’s making you like this, the fucking bastard. He takes in your tiny cries happily, shoving his tongue to play with yours. You give in to him, almost losing your balance riding his thigh, yet Toji’s lips never leave yours.

You break the kiss to get an imperative breath, panting loudly and sweetly for him as Toji kisses and licks your ear. The sounds make your lower region twitch. “Hnnmm, fuck…That’s my girl. So fuckin’ good fr’ me always, Y/n…” You can feel him slide a hand up to the hem of your leggings, forcing it inside for his thick fingers to brush up on the bare flesh of your butt. You gasp sharply. Him squeezing your butt has you biting down on his sweatshirt. “—Hahhh, Oh God, Toji,” With every squeeze, he inches closer to your panty-covered chasm, where you know he’d find a damp spot. Please touch me. Please, please, plea—

CLACK-CLINK!!

The two of you are frozen stiff when you hear the sound of the door opening and closing, the foyer lights turned on. “Alright~, we got you guys home. See ya later!” That was Gojo’s voice, indicating everyone was finally back from trick-or-treating. This means that Tsumiki and Megumi are about to see you on top of their father, his hand in your leggings and smacking lips with yours. Your eyes shoot wide with horror — immediately remove yourself from Toji and stand up from the couch to pull your bottoms up. You barely had the chance to peek at Toji because the kids already run to the living room to find you two.

“Y/n, Y/n, look!” The brunette was the first to greet you with her adorable pink Barbie cowgirl costume. She and her brother, dressed as Sasuke Uchiha, cheerfully showcased their pillowcases full of candy. “Look at all this candy we got!”

“Wooow, you guys really went on a haul,” you can only hope they can’t see you sweating bullets through your fake reaction. “Wh–Where’s Gojo?” 

“He dropped us off here a few seconds ago and left for the party,” The raven-haired boy answered while scanning his pillowcase.

You only nod along until you frantically wipe your mouth, realizing the tiny trail of spit from the corner of your mouth. “Umm—Ahem, well then, I’m glad you two got all that candy. Now, let’s hurry up and get you guys home so you can get ready for school tomorrow!” 

But the children didn’t move an inch. Actually, they looked like they were going to tell you something. You lift a brow. Oh no, they’re going to look at each other. They looked at each other and then glanced back at you. Oh, God, no. “Uhhh, Y/n, we were thinking.” Big sister Tsumiki is always the one who asks the following question. “Can we stay over?”

You inhale a massive breath, yet you do your best not to exhale a heavy sigh. “Kids, you promised to keep the overnight stays to three at max per month. This will be the fifth!” 

“Yeah, but it’s dark out. Plus, it’s way past our bedtime.” The younger chimes in with a tiny pout. “We’ll be asleep by the time Dad gets us home.”

And here comes Tsumiki with the tag-team response to add on. “And that means he’ll have to make continuous trips back and forth from the car. Picking me and Megumi up, getting our bookbags, the bags full of candy, the whole thing! We already packed up our PJs just in case.” 

You stood there staring at the two in astonishment. There’s no way they thoroughly planned this out. There’s just no way… And to make it worse, they were making valid arguments. You open your mouth to say something, but the two give the best puppy eyes they can. The wave of guilt hits like a train, internally cringing. You turn to Toji, who still sits on the couch, and the motherfucker only gives you a shrug. Wow, what a helpful father he is.

You groan into your hands, shaking your head while looking at the kids who wait for your verdict. “…Alright, you can stay as long as you PROMISE to put those candy bags in my bedroom closet. Deal?” The happy smiles and aggressive head shakes should answer your question. “Good, now go ahead and take your showers before you head for bed.” They rushed to the stairs by the time you finished that sentence, so enthusiastic about staying the night at your house, and you can’t help but smile hearing their footsteps run up the stairs. 

With that being said, you turn to the older man again. Your brows are trenched down, but your smile is still present. “So, you legit just sat there and let those two tag-team me like that? In my own house?”

Another shrug with a dumb smirk on his handsome face. “Told you: too smart fr’ me to catch up.” You shake your head before exiting to get the kids and guest rooms ready, leaving him with the television. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The midnight hour has finally danced its way into the darkness of the night. Halloween is finally over, and the month of October is no more. The pitter-patter sound of the rain cleanses the neighborhood of its merits and festivities that partook hours ago, ready for a new phase of the year to take over.

After having the guest room ready with sheets and sleepwear for Toji and kissing the kids goodnight, you rinse your stress off with a nice shower and put on your pajamas to get ready for bed. After you turn the lights off, you drape the comforter over your figure as your body sinks with the cozy sheets and pillowcase. Your eyes close while focusing on the curtains of your window, the only light piercing inside being the lampposts by the street. 

…Well, at least that’s what’s supposed to happen. But that’s not the case because you’re not the only one lying comfortably on your mattress. Instead, Toji is here with you, in your room, on your bed, his chest to your back, and his hand roaming inside your oversized shirt. Your lips are now connected with his, sharing your erotic moans with his enticing groans, and you get a little louder as his fingers cup and play with your breast.

“Mmphh…Ahhhh, I thought I told you you’re sleeping in the guest room—Nmmff!” He tweezes your nipple with his forefinger and thumb roughly.  

“And I thought you’d be smart enough to know that wasn’t gonna happen.” Toji kisses the crook of your neck, drawing near your ear for him to whisper. “Besides, look at you. Still sleepin’ with no underwear on?”

“Hmph, only when I have a man around the house.” That answer got you another rough tweak on your nip and a purposeful gnaw to your ear. You knew he’d react like that, never liking the mention of another man leaving your mouth – especially during an intimate time like this.

“That so? What man you know that can handle all this?” Toji then moves from his side to be between your legs, pulling up your shirt to fully expose your chest. And your breathe hitches while his free hand travels down your abdomen to your bottoms.

“Ahhhh, no one. Just you...” You look at him with half-lidded eyes, taking in his reaction to what you said. The salacious grin on his face becoming broader should entail that he greatly loved that retort.

He brings his face to your other unattended nipple, “Good answer, princess.” The nub of your breast enters his mouth, and the wet warmth of his tongue greets it with lapped motions and grazes from his teeth. Despite that, it doesn’t distract you from the fact your bottoms are pulled down with ease and are thrown to the bedroom floor, leaving your cunt out for him, your erotic fluids seeping and glistening from the outside lights. 

Toji plays with your folds until he can stuff his pointer finger into your chasm, the insertion resulting in your body’s jolt. It’s been a long while since you had his thick digit inside you, playing and scraping the inner walls to evoke whimpers. God, it felt so good, this satisfying feeling returning to awaken your body to his touch. He interacts with your body as if he’s the only person who knows how to get you going – and it’s the truth. No one can put you in a blissful haze quicker than this man. And you’d prefer to keep it that way. 

The addition of his middle finger into your leaky entrance startles you, the thick digit making its way in with such vigor that he uses both fingers to scrape the velvety texture of your walls. Your eyes are now screwed shut at the growing commotion between your thighs, and the heat within your body flourishing all around gets to your head. “—Khmm, Oh fuuck, Toji. Please, don’t stop.” 

With a soft ‘pop’ noise from his lips, Toji replies to your demands. “I’m sorry, what’s my name again?” You giggle with trenched brows. Of course, how could I forget?

“Nmmph, D-Daddy, pleaseee, I’m so clo—Ahhhann!!” He puts his thumb to your clit, grinding down on it unexpectedly. “I wanna cum, pleaseee…”

“Hmmm, good girl,” he teased, laying down kisses, nibbling on the skin of your stomach and inner thighs until he arrives at your leaking slit. Your body jerks up from the bed when you feel the cold, wet muscle slowly lick on your clitoris before ravaging your folds. The sounds of his mouth on your cunt are so lewd to the ear, slurping noises from his lips with the lapping motions of his tongue claiming your come are too much for you. And when he uses his hand to swipe and pinch your clit? Oh, it’s a wrap. Your release comes out without control, biting down on your bottom lip to make sure your cries don’t leave this space for the kids to hear. Their room is on the other side down the hall; tonight isn’t the night for too many risks.

When your trembling body calms down and subsides, Toji withdraws his face from between your thighs. Your essence paints his mouth, and he wipes his chin clean while licking the remnants that coat his scarred lips. “Hmph, missed tastin’ you like that.” You open your eyes when your high finally evades you, watching your ex-husband pull down his sweats. His erection springs out and hits his stomach, your mind going rampant with thoughts as you ogle at his freed limb. Shit, it’s been so long. Will that shit even fit me again?

“Don’t think it’ll fit, baby?” Damn him, he loves teasing you. Toji then discards his black wife-beater, at long last revealing his well-built, brawny physique that has you drooling for him. He uses his hands to maneuver your legs��your knees pushed to your chest as your legs propped up on his shoulders. A position you’re all too familiar with. Your eyes don’t leave Toji’s cock as he aligns his cock to your slick-coated folds. “Take some breaths fr’ me, sweetie. Can’t take care of you when you’re all tense.”

You take up on his advice and begin taking deep breaths, reminding yourself to maintain the steady pattern as he pushes the tip of his dick between the lips of your cunt. Every inhale is where he nudges into the hole of your inner cavern, and every exhale gives you time to breathe out the pain that comes in for a split second. This carries on until the cockhead wedges itself perfectly into your vagina, along with the inches of his girth that stretches until the base kisses your lips, the tip of him kissing your cervix. Tears swell up in your eyes, taking more deep breaths to prepare yourself for what’s about to come. 

“Oooh fuuuck…Heh, yeah, that’s my baby right there. Fittin’ so perfect fr’ me, mama…” He puts his weight on you, keeping your figure unmoving under his bow. 

“Nmmmf, Daddyyy,” you’re forced to take in all of him, and drool trails down your lips with no hope of taking care of it. “…I’m so full, you’re too much…”

“I know, sweetie, I know.” He wipes your spit after kissing your forehead. How gentle compared to what you’re about to go through. “Gonna move now.” His thrusts start slow for the two of you to adjust to each other; the feeling of his length’s veins coming in and out of your chasm is so euphoric, and the kisses to your cervix want your body to writhe and squirm. But you’re bent into this position for a reason: forced to submit to him no matter what. So you do just that.

Yet your horny haze gets more potent once he picks up the pace, rutting into you with increased speed. Your slit, still sensitive from earlier, gets overstimulated with the constant grazes on your gummy walls and jabs to your tender cervix. It takes everything in your power not to come so early.

“—Hahhhh, Nmmph. Oh, shit, shit, shit…” Toji groans above you, the thrusts of his pelvis increase to an irregular rhythm, grinding deep into your cunt to the point of uncontrollable babbles escaping your lips. His bullying on your insides results in you gripping his length hard, causing the older man to hiss and moan at your contractions. “—Ohhhfuuuckk!! Jesus Christ, baby. Y’re gonna make me go crazy.” 

As if that wasn’t already happening now that he pistons his cock into your wetness, your brain turning into mush from the onslaught of ruts to your puffy wet chasm. Tears stream down your face, and more drool follows down with more precise hits to your delicate canal. The pounding in your head makes it hard to think of anything else, the squelching noises and paps of Toji’s balls hitting your cunt making it worse. 

“D-Daddyyy, I’m—Ohoooo!! Oh, Jesus, ohhhshit!” You can’t formulate a proper sentence, too engulfed with the electrifying sensations coursing through your body. 

“Damn, you feel too fucking good—Hnngh!!” Toji places his forehead on yours, resting his entire weight on you while his hips have a mind of their own. “‘Bout to make me knock you up…”

Oh, good Lord. The mere thought of having a child is the last thing that should be on your mind. But in a time like this, who in their right mind would be thinking straight? “Nnnfff! Oh God, pleaseee, fill me up, Daddyy!” Green eyes narrow with trenched brows. “—Pleasepleasepleaseee!! I want you to fill me up so bad, I want it, I want—Hyaaaaa!!” 

How can he deny your desperate, teary pleas when you’re urging him on like this? “Heh, you’re so fuckin’ sexy, mama.” Toji captures your lips with his, your mewls taken by him as you sink further into your pleasurable thrill.

Sporadic thrusts of his pelvis produce more raunchy noises in the joining of your sexes, his heavy balls smacking on your cunt as he drives the base of his cock straight into you. Your slit is now a puffy mess, come and slick form a soapy mess that Toji now harbors a milky ring around his girth. A few rushed, sloppy thrusts heighten your high once more, and then Toji presses his pelvis down to the hilt on one final, harsh thrust, unloading his seed into your aching folds. And your climax follows in a few seconds, the walls of your cunt fluttering on his pulsating dick as your essence soaks him. Your muffled shrieks are received by him, quivering under him until the aftershocks wash through your body. 

Once you two breathe at a steady tempo and the nerves of your sweaty bodies fall still, the kiss is broken with heavy pants and a string of spit that links you two together. Toji buries his face between your neck and shoulder, licking and kissing your skin as you’re allowed time to experience your clarity.

“Hmmm…You know I’m not done yet, princess.” Toji mumbles to your ear before stationing your legs off his shoulders for them to rest.

“Yeah, I know, big guy.” You tease him with a breathless laugh, kissing him on the temple. “Always wanting more…”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“…So, you’re telling me you had your ex-husband spend the night? Not just the kids?”

“Yup, that’s what happened.” 

This morning was different from your usual routine – well, you can’t say it’s different if you have done it before, huh? After five years of divorce, you thought you’d be so used to waking up and getting ready for work without worrying about others. However, this morning proves otherwise.

It felt natural walking into the kids’ room and lightly shaking them awake, telling them to get ready while you whip up something quick for them to eat as Toji showers (using your bathroom, by the way). Watching the kids run down the stairs and eat breakfast puts a smile on your face, reminiscing about the good old days when they were younger and teenier. It sometimes feels surreal doing the same thing for them now that they’re getting older and taller. But seeing them bicker and interact with each other in your presence never fails to warm your heart.

When Toji’s finished freshening up and loading his kids’ stuff in his truck, it’s time to bid them farewell for their departure for school. You give them final touch-ups on their hair and outfits, reminding them to be safe and not get into trouble (especially Megumi, now that the boy’s been getting into fights). And before they rush to the car, you hug them and give each a kiss on the cheek. Here is where the warm feeling inside your heart begins to deteriorate, not wanting to let them go. Yet, for their sake – and education – you release them and hope for the best.

The last to leave was Toji, who came from the kitchen to the front door with a paper plate wrapped in foil in one hand. His name is written boldly by a black Sharpie. “This fr' me?” 

“No, it’s for Shiu Kong, for dealing with you all the time.” You stick your tongue out at Toji as he glares at you, not even moving out of the way while he exits through the door. “You better eat that when you get to work, you have a terrible habit of skipping lunch.” 

“Whatever ya say, mom.” He pesters you with the title, knowing you’re technically not a mother anymore. Yet it only makes you smile knowing he notices your maternal side. 

“Don’t forget to text me when Tsumiki’s soccer game is next week.” You watch him go down the porch stairs. 

“Will do.”He whistles. 

“And Toji?”

The man stops walking to turn to you, his forest green eyes fixed on you so quickly that you almost forget what you want to say. Or what you wanted to do. You place your fingers on your lips and blow a kiss with an outward gesture. It was an old habit you did whenever he left, something you can’t seem to get out of practice with. It’s embroidered in your mind at this point. 

And when he catches the kiss with his free hand and places it on his chest, it makes your heart skip a beat. Toji grins, “I’ll be damned if that was fr' Shiu, too.”

You snicker with a shaken head. “Drive safe, Toji.” Closing the front door, you stand there for a while. Your smile doesn’t falter; it gets bigger as you replay the moment instead. Thinking about him, hearing him, seeing him, it all drives you crazy. And that’s a good thing…right?

“I don’t know, sounds like you still kinda care about the guy.” 

“Of course I do,” So here you are, sitting in your living room enjoying the rays of the sunset decorating the space, in a video call with your best friends, Utahime and Mei Mei. You reply to the former’s comment. “Just because I don’t have the ring on my finger doesn’t mean I shouldn’t care about him. I mean, he’s the father of two lovely children.”

“Shoot, you’re better than me, then.” The dark-haired woman admits. “But you’re kinda proving my point, Y/n. Even when you don’t have the ring on, you two act like the same old couple, and it’s definitely not just for the kids’ sake. Let’s be real here.” 

You try to interject, but the pale-blue-haired other, Mei Mei, intervenes, “I agree. It’s one thing if you let the children stay over, but he also wanted to spend the night. Sure, he could’ve been tired from driving all day and such. However, if you’re still seeing a man for the last five years – while legally unbound – and he says he wants to spend the night under your roof, which is rare, that should ring some bells at least.”

“I know, it did…” you nod along with what your friend is saying, throwing your head back with a heavy sigh. “But it’s not like he’s never spent the night here before, nor is he banished from stepping inside.” 

“Oh? Then why is this time different from the others?”

Utahime jumps in after Mei Mei’s chirp. “Yeah, you’re telling us about all these nostalgic lovey-dovey feelings as if you’re falling in love with him all over again. What, did you two have sex or something?” 

An open mouth, yet no words come out, leaving you in a predicament. You could’ve just lied or swerved the subject to something else. But you didn’t. And the two women on the screen lift their brows with hooded eyes, a look meaning a thousand words. You couldn’t even explain yourself either because a sudden knock on your door captured the attention of all three of you. 

You stand up and walk towards the door, your friends still on call on the phone at hand. Opening the door, you’re almost stunned to see in front of you. Tsumiki and Megumi with nervous smiles, and their father at the car collecting the same duffles bags from last night. You’re kidding.

“Hey, kids.” The two of them gulped from not calling them by their names. You bring up the phone to face the screen to them. “Say hello to Auntie Mei Mei and Utahime.” The women on the line smile and wave at the children, who sheepishly wave back.

“Hi, aunties.” Megumi greets them, and then his eyes drift back to you. “So, Y/n—“

“What did you forget this time?” Straight to the point, no room for excuses.

“It was Miki this time! She forgot her soccer cleats.” The older sibling gawks at her younger brother for calling her out.

“Tsumiki, I know you have cleats at home.”

“I do, but these are special! You bought them for my birthday, and I’ve been wearing them to every game ever since! So, I was scared when I couldn’t find them at home.” The brunette was quick to defend her stand. “Also, Dad doesn’t feel like driving up here and then back. So…can we…”

You close your eyes and bring the phone to your face to shield your vexation. Twice in a row, the sixth time this month. You can hear the giggles of your friends from the other side of the phone, adding more fuel to the fire. You don’t look up until you hear heavy footsteps on the porch, seeing Toji holding both duffle bags with a hand and shoulder. He stares at you as you stare at him, a silent conversation on how to handle this situation. And when he shrugs with lifted brows, you realize it’s no use and release the long-awaited sigh.

“….If I see one more thing being left behind here, you guys can’t come back till December, understand?” It wasn’t anything serious, but enough for the kids to know you weren’t joking. They nod their heads in unison while you roll your eyes. “Okay, get in here.” They rushed inside with gleeful laughs, the shuffling of their backpacks following along with them. Your eyes then drift to Toji as he walks up to you. “Did you forget something here, too?”

“Yeah,” you lift a brow when he drops Megumi’s bag to the floor. Before you can register his hand on your chin, you squeak when he brings his lips to yours. It lasted for seconds, but the kiss was sweet and tender, sucking on your lip before letting go with a playful bite. “Meant to give you that when you woke up. Thanks fr' the food, mama.” 

Toji picks the bag up and walks inside your home to put the bags in the rooms, leaving you standing on the porch with an astounded expression. You couldn’t appropriately calibrate your thoughts until you heard faint laughs from the phone. Then, you realize your best friends witnessed the entire scene that transpired. 

Utahime, with the slyest leer, was the first to say something. “Oh yeah, he laid that pipe on you good, without a doubt.”

“Mhmm,” Mei Mei agrees with a chuckle. “And I'm guessing he’s gonna do it again tonight. Isn’t that right, Y/n?”

You end the video call with a heated face. “Sh-Shut your damn mouths!!” Again, you groan into your hands before returning inside. Thank God I still have those birth control pills...

♱ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2023 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by rororogi mogera + dividers by the amazing @/cafekitsune!!

[insipid-drivel]

Horses: Since There Seems To Be A Knowledge Gap

I'm going to go ahead and preface this with: I comment pretty regularly on clips and photos featuring horses and horseback riding, often answering questions or providing explanations for how or why certain things are done. I was a stable hand and barrel racer growing up, and during my 11 year tenure on tumblr, Professional Horse Commentary is a very niche, yet very necessary, subject that needs filling. Here are some of the literary and creative gaps I've noticed in well meaning (and very good!) creators trying to portray horses and riding realistically that... well, most of you don't seem to even be aware of, because you wouldn't know unless you worked with horses directly!

Some Of The Most Common Horse + Riding Mistakes I See:

-Anybody can ride any horse if you hold on tight enough/have ridden once before.

Nope. No, no, no, no, aaaaaaaand, no. Horseback riding has, historically, been treated as a life skill taught from surprisingly young ages. It wasn't unusual in the pre-vehicular eras to start teaching children as young as 4 to begin to ride, because horses don't come with airbags, and every horse is different. For most adults, it can take months or years of regular lessons to learn to ride well in the saddle, and that's just riding; not working or practicing a sport.

Furthermore, horses often reject riders they don't know. Unless a horse has been trained like a teaching horse, which is taught to tolerate riders of all skill and experience levels, it will take extreme issue with having some random person try to climb on their back. Royalty, nobility, and the knighted classes are commonly associated with the "having a favorite special horse" trope, because it's true! Just like you can have a particularly special bond with a pet or service animal that verges on parental, the same can apply with horses. Happy horses love their owners/riders, and will straight-up do their best to murder anyone that tries to ride them without permission.

-Horses are stupid/have no personality.

There isn't a more dangerous assumption to make than assuming a horse is stupid. Every horse has a unique personality, with traits that can be consistent between breeds (again, like cat and dog breeds often have distinct behavior traits associated with them), but those traits manifest differently from animal to animal.

My mother had an Arabian horse, Zipper, that hated being kicked as a signal to gallop. One day, her mom and stepdad had a particularly unpleasant visitor; an older gentleman that insisted on riding Zipper, but refused to listen to my mother's warnings never to kick him. "Kicking" constitutes hitting the horse's side(s) with your heels, whether you have spurs on or not. Most horses only need a gentle squeeze to know what you want them to do.

Anyway, Zipper made eye-contact with my mom, asking for permission. He understood what she meant when she nodded at him. He proceeded to give this asshole of a rider road rash on the side of the paddock fence and sent him to the emergency room. He wouldn't have done it if he didn't have the permission from the rider he respected, and was intelligent enough to ask, "mind if I teach this guy a lesson?" with his eyes, and understand, "Go for it, buddy," from my mom in return.

-Riding bareback is possible to do if you hold onto the horse's mane really tight.

Riding a horse bareback (with no saddle, stirrups, or traditional harness around the horse's head) is unbelievably difficult to learn, particularly have testicles and value keeping them. Even professional riders and equestrians find ourselves relying on tack (the stuff you put on a horse to ride it) to stay stable on our horses, even if we've been riding that particular horse for years and have a very positive, trusting relationship.

Horses sweat like people do. The more they run, the more their hair saturates with sweat and makes staying seated on them slippery. Hell, an overworked horse can sweat so heavily that the saddle slips off its back. It's also essential to brush and bathe a horse before it's ridden in order to keep it healthier, so their hair is often quite slick from either being very clean or very damp. In order to ride like that, you have to develop the ability to synchronize your entire body's rhythm's with the rhythm of the horse's body beneath you, and quite literally move as one. Without stirrups, most people can't do it, and some people can never master bareback riding no matter how many years they spend trying to learn.

-You can be distracted and make casual conversation while a horse is standing untethered in the middle of a barn or field.

At every barn I've ever worked at, it's been standard practice with every single horse, regardless of age or temperament, to secure their heads while they're being tacked up or tacked down. The secures for doing this are simple ropes with clips that are designed to attach to the horse's halter (the headwear for a horse that isn't being ridden; they have no bit that goes in the horse's mouth, and no reins for a rider to hold) on metal O rings on either side of the horse's head. This is not distressing to the horse, because we give them plenty of slack to turn their heads and look around comfortably.

The problem with trying to tack up an unrestrained horse while chatting with fellow stable hands or riders is that horses know when you're distracted! And they often try to get away with stuff when they know you're not looking! In a barn, a horse often knows where the food is stored, and will often try to tiptoe off to sneak into the feed room.

Horses that get into the feed room are often at a high risk of dying. While extremely intelligent, they don't have the ability to throw up, and they don't have the ability to tell that their stomach is full and should stop eating. Allowing a horse into a feed/grain room WILL allow it to eat itself to death.

Other common woes stable hands and riders deal with when trying to handle a horse with an unrestrained head is getting bitten! Horses express affection between members of their own herd, and those they consider friends and family, through nibbling and surprisingly rough biting. It's not called "horseplay" for nothing, because during my years working with horses out in the pasture, it wasn't uncommon at all for me to find individuals with bloody bite marks on their withers (that high part on the middle of the back of their shoulders most people instinctively reach for when they try to get up), and on their backsides. I've been love-bitten by horses before, and while flattering, they hurt like hell on fleshy human skin.

So, for the safety of the horse, and everybody else, always make a show of somehow controlling the animal's head when hands-on and on the ground with them.

-Big Horse = War Horse

Startlingly, the opposite is usually the case! Draft and carriage horses, like Percherons and Friesians, were never meant to be used in warfare. Draft horses are usually bred to be extremely even-tempered, hard to spook, and trustworthy around small children and animals. Historically, they're the tractors of the farm if you could afford to upgrade from oxen, and were never built to be fast or agile in a battlefield situation.

More importantly, just because a horse is imposing and huge doesn't make it a good candidate for carrying heavy weights. A real thing that I had to be part of enforcing when I worked at a teaching ranch was a weight limit. Yeah, it felt shitty to tell people they couldn't ride because we didn't have any horses strong enough to carry them due to their weight, but it's a matter of the animal's safety. A big/tall/chonky horse is more likely to be built to pull heavy loads, but not carry them flat on their spines. Horses' muscular power is predominantly in their ability to run and pull things, and too heavy a rider can literally break a horse's spine and force us to euthanize it.

Some of the best war horses out there are from the "hot blood" family. Hot blooded horses are often from dry, hot, arid climates, are very small and slight (such as Arabian horses), and are notoriously fickle and flighty. They're also a lot more likely to paw/bite/kick when spooked, and have even sometimes been historically trained to fight alongside their rider if their rider is dismounted in combat; kicking and rearing to keep other soldiers at a distance.

-Any horse can be ridden if it likes you enough.

Just like it can take a lifetime to learn to ride easily, it can take a lifetime of training for a horse to comfortably take to being ridden or taking part in a job, like pulling a carriage. Much like service animals, horses are typically trained from extremely young ages to be reared into the job that's given to them, and an adult horse with no experience carrying a rider is going to be just as scared as a rider who's never actually ridden a horse.

Just as well, the process of tacking up a horse isn't always the most comfortable experience for the horse. To keep the saddle centered on the horse's back when moving at rough or fast paces, it's essential to tighten the belly strap (cinch) of the saddle as tightly as possible around the horse's belly. For the horse, it's like wearing a tight corset, chafes, and even leaves indents in their skin afterward that they love having rinsed with water and scratched. Some horses will learn to inflate their bellies while you're tightening the cinch so you can't get it as tight as it needs to be, and then exhale when they think you're done tightening it.

When you're working with a horse wearing a bridle, especially one with a bit, it can be a shocking sensory experience to a horse that's never used a bit before. While they lack a set of teeth naturally, so the bit doesn't actually hurt them, imagine having a metal rod shoved in your mouth horizontally! Unless you understand why it's important for the person you care about not dying, you'd be pretty pissed about having to keep it in there!

-Horseback riding isn't exercise.

If you're not using every muscle in your body to ride with, you're not doing it right.

Riding requires every ounce of muscle control you have in your entire body - although this doesn't mean it wasn't realistic for people with fat bodies to stay their weight while also being avid riders; it doesn't mean the muscles aren't there. To stay on the horse, you need to learn how it feels when it moves at different gaits (walk, trot, canter, gallop), how to instruct it to switch leads (dominant legs; essential for precise turning and ease of communication between you and the horse), and not falling off. While good riders look like they're barely moving at all, that's only because they're good riders. They know how to move so seamlessly with the horse, feeling their movements like their own, that they can compensate with their legs and waists to not bounce out of the saddle altogether or slide off to one side. I guarantee if you ride a horse longer than 30 minutes for the first time, your legs alone will barely work and feel like rubber.

-Horses aren't affectionate.

Horses are extraordinarily affectionate toward the right people. As prey animals, they're usually wary of people they don't know, or have only recently met. They also - again, like service animals - have a "work mode" and a "casual mode" depending upon what they're doing at the time. Horses will give kisses like puppies, wiggle their upper lips on your hair/arms to groom you, lean into neck-hugs, and even cuddle in their pasture or stall if it's time to nap and you join them by leaning against their sides. If they see you coming up from afar and are excited to see you, they'll whinny and squeal while galloping to meet you at the gate. They'll deliberately swat you with their tails to tease you, and will often follow you around the pasture if they're allowed to regardless of what you're up to.

-Riding crops are cruel.

Only cruel people use riding crops to hurt their horses. Spurs? I personally object to, because any horse that knows you well doesn't need something sharp jabbing them in the side for emphasis when you're trying to tell them where you want them to go. Crops? Are genuinely harmless tools used for signalling a horse.

I mean, think about it. Why would crops be inherently cruel instruments if you need to trust a horse not to be afraid of you and throw you off when you're riding it?

Crops are best used just to lightly tap on the left or right flank of the horse, and aren't universally used with all forms of riding. You'll mainly see crops used with English riding, and they're just tools for communicating with the horse without needing to speak.

-There's only one way to ride a horse.

Not. At. All. At most teaching ranches, you'll get two options: Western, or English, because they tend to be the most popular for shows and also the most common to find equipment for. English riding uses a thinner, smaller saddle, narrower stirrups, and much thinner bridles. I, personally, didn't like English style riding because I never felt very stable in such a thin saddle with such small stirrups, and didn't start learning until my mid teens. English style riding tends to focus more on your posture and deportment in the saddle, and your ability to show off your stability and apparent immovability on the horse. It was generally just a bit too stiff and formal for me.

Western style riding utilizes heavier bridles, bigger saddles (with the iconic horn on the front), and broader stirrups. Like its name may suggest, Western riding is more about figuring out how to be steady in the saddle while going fast and being mobile with your upper body. Western style riding is generally the style preferred for working-type shows, such as horseback archery, gunning, barrel racing, and even rodeo riding.

-Wealthy horse owners have no relationship with their horses.

This is loosely untrue, but I've seen cases where it is. Basically, horses need to feel like they're working for someone that matters to them in order to behave well with a rider and not get impatient or bored. While it's common for people to board horses at off-property ranches (boarding ranches) for cost and space purposes, it's been historically the truth that having help is usually necessary with horses at some point. What matters is who spends the most time with the animal treating it like a living being, rather than a mode of transport or a tool. There's no harm in stable hands handling the daily upkeep; hay bales and water buckets are heavy, and we're there to profit off the labor you don't want or have the time to do. You get up early to go to work; we get up early to look after your horses. Good owners/boarders visit often and spend as much of their spare time as they can with spending quality work and playtime with their horses. Otherwise, the horses look to the stable hands for emotional support and care.

So, maybe you're writing a knight that doesn't really care much for looking after his horse, but his squire is really dedicated to keeping up with it? There's a better chance of the horse having a more affectionate relationship with the squire thanks to the time the squire spends on looking after it, while the horse is more likely to tolerate the knight that owns it as being a source of discipline if it misbehaves. That doesn't mean the knight is its favorite person. When it comes to horses, their love must be earned, and you can only earn it by spending time with them hands-on.

-Horses can graze anywhere without concern.

This is a mistake that results in a lot of premature deaths! A big part of the cost of owning a horse - even before you buy one - is having the property that will be its pasture assessed for poisonous plants, and having those plants removed from being within the animal's reach. This is an essential part of farm upkeep every year, because horses really can't tell what's toxic and what isn't. One of the reasons it's essential to secure a horse when you aren't riding it is to ensure it only has a very limited range to graze on, and it's your responsibility as the owner/rider to know how to identify dangerous plants and keep your horses away from them.

There's probably more. AMA in my askbox if you have any questions, but that's all for now. Happy writing.

[theotherseapancakes]

this is such a good post bc this is also incidentally exactly why I love Shin Megami Tensei, because it does this exact thing. I think a lot of people don’t quite grasp WHY the angels there tend to often be depicted as mechanized versus the Fallen race, and Lucifer, who is shown as more... well, demonic most of the time or otherwise taking (many gender identities) human guises. He’s a symbol of finding a new purpose and I kinda think in a way, that’s a beautiful alternative answer to all of those questions. 

Of course, it’s dumb and human to assign anything to the concept of angels, but y’know. I guess I just really like this stuff.

“You have chosen to follow your will and tread the path of thorns... like myself. In time, your true adversary will appear before you. Until that day, stay strong..." 

happy pride to Lucifer, my absolute icon:

the reason i love the comparison between angels and machines (robots, transmission towers, trains, computers, etc.) is that it gets to the heart of what angels essentially are: divine machines. they're mechanisms through with the divine is able to act, created with a purpose and "happy" to fill it simply because they were made to do so. they have more in common with a machine programmed to run on algorithms and make calculations based on input commands than they do with humanity, even if they bear a human visage - an attempt by the divine to help bridge the gap. angels do not need to be eldritch monstrosities to be terrifying, because they are already alien to us simply by being angels. for an angel to choose to deviate from their purpose and achieve free will is to fall because in order to have free will they can no longer be an angel, because an angel is defined by its purpose. much like the stories we tell of robots that gain sentence, only to discover that they can never truly be human, but neither can they go back to being a machine, angels who fall become something else entirely, purposeless and adrift and alone. it is a tragic sacrifice.

[sttoru]

‘the king of curses doesn’t like sharing. especially not when it comes to his partner.’

☀︎｜tags. heian era!sukuna x female reader. sfw/fluff ? ig. set in the heian era, duh. jealousy & possessive themes. size difference (reader gets referred to as small!). tried to be realistic w/ sukuna’s characterisation so. . . don’t be surprised to read about him killing somebody. therefore, mentions of blood. reader is implied to have a fear of blood (dw sukuna takes care of it teehee). reader gets called 'brat'. not beta read; this sucks ass.

you were taking a stroll outside of the estate, the hem of the floral kimono you’re wearing lightly dragging along behind you. the weather was perfect with not a single cloud in sight.

a pair of silent footsteps follow yours and you sigh. even though it was an usual occurrence, you still aren’t used to having one of sukuna’s servants at your side at all times. your over protective lover insisted that it was for your own ‘safety’. as if anything or anyone could harm you whilst you stay within the four walls of the estate far up in the mountains.

sukuna is continuously busy and thus decided to assign you a personal maid that accompanies you and takes care of your every need when he isn’t able to. well - looking at the bright side of things - at least she tries her best to hide her presence from you. she tags along silently and only speaks when spoken to.

you stop near a sakura tree and tilt your head back to admire its beauty. after a few minutes pass, you hear a different pair of footsteps walking up your way. you turn your head and see a familiar male servant approaching you with his head held low.

his hands were holding onto a platter with a cup of warm tea and a few of your favorite delicacies. the brown-haired man greets you politely. maybe a bit too politely as his voice carries a bright smile, “good afternoon, my lady.”

you return the greeting with a smile of your own. it was like you to treat the servants around the estate with kindness and care — a total opposite of the king of curses. you take a pastry from the platter and look back up at the man, “thank you for bringing me these. i appreciate it greatly.”

the way you treat the ones of lower status has always been an admirable trait of yours. it might have stirred some forbidden feelings for you in the heart of the male servant. he knows that it was impossible - he’d seen how easily sukuna gets rid of those who get too close to you.

but, he isn’t here. the king of curses isn’t present in the current moment. the brown-haired male shifts in his place a little, fingernails digging into the material of the plate he was holding. he was going to do it — no one could hold him back. not even the maid who stood a couple steps away.

“y-you look very beautiful, my lady.” the servant stutters and bows his head at you. you are surprised to hear such a flattering sentence leave the lips of the man in front of you. none of the men around you had dared to be this straightforward in ages. they all knew the possible consequences that such actions could bring after all.

perhaps it was due to the absent intimidating presence of your lover. still, you can’t help but feel grateful. you giggle softly, covering your mouth with your free hand, “thank you so much.”

the male servant gulps at the sound of your laughter. ‘oh, how lucky the king of curses is - to have such a beautiful woman at his side,’ the man thought to himself. he was sure that he could treat you better than the indifferent sukuna himself.

he hesitates to continue the conversation for a second. there was an urge deep within him; to ask if you’d like to have some tea with him in the dining area. it would be extremely bold and maybe way out of line considering that you’re taken.

but, the way you reacted to his earlier compliment gave him a huge confidence boost. one that would sooner or later send him to his grave.

“would you perhaps be interested in joining me for a drink, my lady?” the servant asks and anything that happens after that instant, is all but a blur.

you can’t process the next few moments as everything happens way too fast. the last thing you remember seeing, was the servant before you. a sudden gust of wind passes by and the sounds of quick slashes fill your ears. you couldn’t figure out anything else as your vision gets blocked by something. or rather - someone.

a familiar and large hand covers the back of your head. the scent of the person holding you is also oddly familiar—a certain scent that made a shiver run down your spine from both excitement and light fear.

“sukuna?” you guess and guess correctly. your voice was muffled due to your face being smushed against his torso. you didn’t yet understand what happened, so you try to pull your body away from the king of curses, only for his grip on you to tighten.

sukuna’s face was as emotionless as ever. his eyes look down at the pile of blood near your feet — what was once a human being had now turned into nothing but a pure crimson liquid.

“foolish. absolutely foolish.” the king of curses grumbles, his tone filled with disgust. he doesn’t soften the grip on your body for even a moment. one of his four arms holds you captive against him, his hand firmly yet somehow tenderly cradling your head just above his midriff, “it seems that i cannot leave this place for a single second.”

sukuna glances at your personal maid who had been bowing to him the moment he appeared out of thin air. she could feel his piercing gaze on her and knew exactly what to do without being told: to clean up the mess that stained the garden’s pavement.

“sukuna,” you try to move your head again, but was still restricted. you let out a small whine in response. you just wanted to see your lover after spending an entire day without him. any thoughts about that servant from earlier had long vanished, “i want to see you. can i?”

the request is an innocent one. there isn’t a visible change in sukuna's expression, but the way you asked him that was quite. . . endearing, if he were to explain it. he would comply if it wasn’t for the literal bloodbath he created. which he doesn’t want you to witness.

“not yet.” he replies and effortlessly uses one of his arms to pick your small body up. your lover notices how you try to steal a glimpse at the scene behind you while he moves you around in his embrace. he grunts and gently smacks the back of your head, “no peeking, brat. do as told.”

sukuna knows how much you hate the sight of blood. he's being considerate towards you — even if you do not realise that just yet. however, he also does not have a single regret about murdering that servant. it was to be expected. anybody who dares to make a move on his woman should suffer his wrath.

plus, it's not like you don't know about sukuna's ruthless actions. you’ve come to get used to them; more and more male servants keep dissappearing without a trace after they’ve been ‘too friendly' with you. it's easy to guess who’s behind those disappearances.

it doesn’t bother you in the slightest. as long as you don't see it happening and as long as you get to stay under sukuna's care and protection - you don’t mind.

“can i look now?” you huff after sukuna has carried you away from the garden. the king of curses clicks his tongue at your impatience.

he sighs deeply before allowing you back on your own two feet, “i do not understand why you’re so adamant on looking at me, but fine.”

you waste no time and immediately open your eyes. your gaze doesn’t wander off towards your surroundings—it instantly settles on sukuna. he looked the same as usual; there was not a single change about his appearance and yet you find yourself smiling at the sight of him.

“i missed you.” you hug your lover and feel him returning the gesture a few seconds later. he looks the other way and may seem indifferent to your display of affection, though the man was secretly grateful for it. for you in general.

“mhm.” sukuna lets out a small noise of acknowledgment and that is all you get out of him. he doesn’t have to say much; his body automatically does the talking. he squeezes your body against his — your small frame disappearing behind his beefy arms.

the king of curses doesn’t understand why, but the way your eyes sparkle when looking at him, intrigues him. sukuna had never seen another human look at him like that before after all. they all cower in fear; except for you. you don’t show a single ounce of fear. thus why you are something - someone - he must keep for himself.

he has and will never have any intent on sharing you with anyone. you’re his, for as long as he exists.

[roturo]

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ SHE'S BACK!

GUESS HE COULDN'T KEEP IT IN, SO HE HAD TO KEEP IT INSIDE! ₊˚⊹♡ dilf!gojo satoru x teacher!reader

tags: smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink, exhibitionism, getting caught, he fucks you while he's on the phone, overstimulation, dumbfication, fluff, gojo has an ex-wife, yuuji is gojo's son, age-gap.

A/N: well, this was surely and adventure and maybe self-indulgent title because guess what?, i'm back baby.

It was a nice morning, he felt clean. Like his life was finally steadying. Even after some stressful weeks trying to get rid of his now ex-wife, he won the trial and kept Yuuji. Poor little boy, just turning 5 years old and he’s already facing all this type of stress. But thankfully he will not be experiencing enduring his crazy mother behavior. Which basically was a gold digger, and a bitch– Not that he would ever say that outloud, maybe with other words? Bastard? Witch? Not that it really matters right now.

He could finally take a break now, just focusing on raising his little boy, and being an old boring 31 year old dad. Life doesn’t sound that bad.

“Daddy! Daddy!,” His son went running to his arms, almost stumbling by himself- clear happiness shown on his face. Quickly, Gojo opened his arms ready to lift the young kid. “Miss Y/N congratulated me on my homework! She was pretty amazed!”

Your name wasn’t unknown to him, Yuuji was very open when talking about his favorite teacher, even though he hasn’t seen you yet- from what he’s been told you’re the kid’s favorite, including Yuuji’s. “I had to talk about who’s my hero, and I chose you!” If this day wasn’t going great, it was now. Because his son's comment just made his whole week, life even.

“Oh look dad!” The little boy pointed towards your moving frame, each time getting clñoser towards them. “Daddy, this is Miss Y/N!” Yuuji kept presenting the both of you. He was really excited to present his two favorite persons to each other- but all Gojo could think of what’s how young and beautiful you looked. He expected someone older, maybe even an old lady with wrinkles and that loving grandma vibes, but what he saw made his heart beat in a way he never thought he would feel ever more.

“Daddy? Are you paying attention?” The little boy gained Gojo’s attention back, face now looking at him again. “I’m sorry kiddo, kinda just zoned out there. What did you just say?”

“Uhh, what was it? Oh! Did I tell you Miss Y/N told me you were a very handsome man?”

“Yuuji!” His gaze moved towards your blushed face, a hand covering part of your face. “I’m so sorry Mr.Gojo, I didn’t intend to say-”

Gojo cut you off before you could continue apologizing “It’s okay, I also think Ms.Y/N is a very beautiful woman.” 

Uh, well. So this is how kinda you found yourself in this situation right now.

You swear it wasn’t your intention! You really tried, you really did, but how could someone say no to Mr.Gojo? And mostly because he really showed his attraction towards you. Sending Yuuji with a rose for you every day, and the little boy was rooting for his dad, because dear god- he did not shut up about him, and how happy he would be with a new girlfriend and maybe one he could call ‘mommy’ and give him a sister. 

That made you blush. 

Not only because the little boy commented on it, and was agreeing- but because it was his dad’s idea.

“You’re so wet, s-shit.” Loud thrusts filled the room, he was fucking you raw on his sofa– waiting for Yuuji’s mom to bring him back, the little boy was eager to come back and ‘see Ms.Y/N and his daddy finally starting to fall in love’

Kids being kids. But, he was right- the both of you were falling in love with eachother.

Gojo throws back his head, immersed in the warmth radiating off your walls and he lets your moans take him to another world. In a haste decision, he slips your dress over your head before tossing it. He mouths at your tits, plump and stiff between his lips, and he hurdles a deeper round of thrusts inside you. 

When you get a little too loud, his hand comes over to clamp your mouth, wolf like eyes staring back at you, “Shut it. You don’t deserve to speak.”

His thin white tee that stays a barrier between you and him does not hide the rippling body underneath that seemed to be sculpted by gods. He presses into you, grunting, using you like his personal sex doll and you embrace it, thrive from it, come to it. Your hips contract, slewing in perfect circles, before having your legs fall gradually lifeless as you arousal drip down your thighs.

“Ffffucckkk- oh baby, would you like that? Be full of me and my baby? Make me a daddy again?”

“yesyesyesyes, make me yours Mr.Gojo-” 

He pays your climax no mind,a smirk clearly showing on his face while he fucks you on his sofa- You could muffle your screams of pleasure easier here. Turning your head back to face him, you notice now he’s shirtless–taut and shiny from sweat like a large set of Hawaiian rolls–before seeing how quick he is to fit back inside you.

“Good girl.” His husky voice resonates and pushes you back into the sheets. “Good girls get rewards, don’t they?” Your poor fucked up mind couldn’t think clearly now. The way your abused and overstimulated pussy was still taking his rock hard cock gratefully inside you was making every feel giddy. A sudden noise bringing back a little part of your senses, Gojo clearly grunting grabbed his what you suppose phone, and answered. Not bothering to stop his thrusts.

“Yeah?,” His voice sounded almost like a whisper because of how breathy it was. “Gojo? I’m almost at your house- Yuuji wanted some ice-cream and bought some for you and… your new girlfriend?” His chuckle interrupted his ex-wife’s conversation, accompanied with a whimper at the feeling of you clenching on him- overstimulation clearly bringing you back to climax soon again.

A slap was heard from his part of the line, an unbelievable laugh coming from his ex-wife line, clearly noticing what was going on and then she finally heard you moan. You couldn’t keep it in anymore, and you were too fucked out to feel embarrased about it right now.

“Finish before I leave Yuuji- Enjoy yourself.” Gojo was so lost in pleasure that he didn’t even realize she hung up before he even processed what happened.

His grunts and sounds of skins slapping are all you hear as he pounds you back into the sofa. It feels like heaven beneath his weight. You were feeling flushed to the touch, but making contact with his skin was like an inferno. He was the embodiment of heat and as suffocating as that could’ve been, it melts you like it’s how it always should’ve been.

His pace eventually falters, followed by a hushed “fuck,” and he empties out into your used hole. The moment he pulled out, a knock was heard. 

“Shit. Can you walk?”

PART 2