#god its so hard to be good for your age especially when you know you couldve been good enough for the stage

[hwaslayer]

wildfire (cs) | 7.5

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 1.2k

—chapter content/warnings: not much here!!, cussing, mature language/sexually implied content, subtle flirting (in san's and oc's terms lmfao)

—a/n: hi! just a friendly lil reminder that these half chapters are random scenes/bits that couldn't really fit into a chapter or stand-alone as one. they're mostly in the past and will not always follow the exact timeline of the previous or upcoming chapter!

San booked off most of his day to help Christopher with this symposium. Well, actually, most of the group has [minus a select few others] in order to make room for the quick tech rehearsal and run through before its official start time in the next half hour or so. The staff is now bringing in the fruit, cheese and other pastries, along with coffee, tea and juice— setting them outside of the conference room on a long table. The symposium is supposed to be 5 hours, being that everyone keeps to their 20-min presentation + 10-min Q&A times. San is off to the side speaking with Jongho and Chris, while Mingi and Zara are fiddling with the AV system to test their own presentations for the final time. Even though this is the one time most of their schedules worked, Yeosang had to skip out due to heading overseas for a conference. As San sips on his coffee, Yunho and Iseul walk in alongside of Namjoon. Per usual, he keeps greetings to a bare minimum:

AKA, a very subtle smile and nod to both. One that Yunho reciprocates, one that Iseul doesn't like to acknowledge.

But, whatever.

"Did you guys tell your labs about this?" Chris nervously wipes his hands on his dress pants, nervous about how his first symposium is gonna turn out.

"Dude." Jongho laughs and pokes fun at him. "Relax."

"I bragged about it way too much, I don't even know if people wanna come anymore." San teases, making Chris shake him by the shoulders. "Relax! They'll come!"

"What if no one shows up? We'll be giving presentations to each other—" Chris laughs, but a few people start trickling into the conference room; providing him with a sense of relief. "Oh, thank god." The three start giving small nods to the students and other faculty dipping in, greeting them just as they set their things down and grab some food.

"Can't believe you actually thought people wouldn't come. Think you might need extra chairs." San points out as more people flood in.

"Shit, I did it." Chris beams from ear to ear, shifting his attention to two more familiar faces. "Oh! Hey Y/N, Jiung!" He says as the two of you walk towards their group, giving them very curt bows.

"Hi." You smile at all, especially San. He bites onto his straw, trying his hardest to hold back his smile.

"Thanks for coming."

"Of course! Got a good lineup, excited to hear all the presentations!" Jiung tugs on his backpack straps.

"In that case, send me a full report on it tomorrow." Jongho jokes, making Jiung playfully roll his eyes.

"Do you see how he treats me?" Chris and Jongho laugh.

"Nah, he's been talking a lot about the work you've been doing and how you're probably the best person to help get the rig together for our optical electrophysiology project."

"Aw, really?" Jiung looks at Jongho. "You mean it?" Jiung has stars in his eyes and Jongho can't help but deny the allegations. He has said it time and time again; Jiung is definitely doing great work and Jongho doesn't want him to go anywhere. If he could keep him for good, he would. He hopes he can.

He'd just never say it out loud cause he's like that.

"Hey now." He shakes his head. "I never said anything, I don't know what he's talking about." 

"We have a few minutes actually, let's talk about that real quick and follow up in another meeting later on." Chris looks at you. "Sorry to have to pull him away from you, Y/N. Professor Choi #2 can keep you company?"

"All good." 

"Be back." Jiung looks at you. "I'll save us those chairs." He points towards two end spots near the middle section. You awkwardly watch as Chris, Jongho and Jiung approach another professor to talk about said project, leaving you with San. 

"Hi." He says shyly. You've never seen him this way, and he's too fucking cute, too fucking charming. It makes you replay the dinner events in your head, only pushing your curiosity of what he'd be like if you two were completely alone. 

"Hi. Is that your nervous face poking out? Are you nervous?" You tease a bit.

"Me?" He playfully scoffs. "No. Dinner was more nerve-racking than this."

"What, why?" You giggle.

"Because it's you. I have to be extra careful with you, remember?"

"Right." You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, heat rising to your cheeks as your eyes glaze over his figure; he's dressed nicely in a white button up, tie and grey vest. They're all dressed nicely for the occasion, but it's definitely an extra weakness for you seeing San like this. 

"You're cute." He mutters as he bites his straw again and takes a sip of his iced coffee, eyes looking around the room to make his flirting not so obvious. And it isn't, except Yunho has been watching from the side while he waits for Iseul to finish up working through some presentation issues with IT. He didn't mean to, but his eyes gradually glazed over to the two of you smiling and laughing.

He can't help it, but the interaction feels different. The only time he's ever seen San that shy and flustered is when he was courting Iseul. It almost feels like he's watching something unfold all over again. 

"All good!" Iseul says, knitting her brows together when Yunho seems to be preoccupied. "You okay?" She asks, Yunho finally returning his attention to her.

"Yeah, sorry. Was just people-watching." Iseul looks over, eyes also falling on San but she doesn't necessarily get a chance to think much about it before Yunho is chiming in again. "Let's go grab some food before it starts." He laces his hand with hers and leads her to the end, front row seats.

Meanwhile, you've been too busy keeping your attention on San to care about everyone else. You're so tempted to nudge him, be a little affectionate with him. And it's taking everything in you to remind yourself who you are and where you are at.

"Stop it."

"Glad you actually made it, though."

"I told you I'd come."

"And I'm glad it wasn't just something you said to brush me off in the hallway." You laugh.

"No, never." Jiung wraps up his talk with the other professors, his eyes meeting yours with a small nod towards the seats he sat his bag down at. "Well, guess they're done. I'll see you later? Goodluck on your talk, Professor Choi." He smiles toothlessly at you.

"Thank you, Y/N." He watches as you walk off and meet Jiung, plopping down onto the seat as he debriefs you on his impromptu meeting. 

"Hm." Jongho hums and clears his throat, slowly walking over to his bestfriend while sipping his coffee.

"Yes?"

"Nothing." Jongho squints his eyes at him, a small chuckle leaving his lips. "Productive conversations going around, I see."

"Mhm." San chuckles, knowing exactly what Jongho's hinting at.

"Hey!" Zara comes over with a bright smile on her face. "We saved you some seats." She points at the front row on the left side, waving them over. "Come." 

"Sweet, thanks." Jongho leads the way while Zara tucks her hair behind her ear and walks alongside of San.

"Ready?" San shrugs as he looks at her.

"As can be."

"I'm sure it'll be great like always." He smiles.

"Thanks." He lets her slip into the seat next to Jongho before sliding into the end seat, eyes quickly glancing over at you before he gets situated and switches modes for the symposium.

Though, you are incredibly distracting, and he can only hope he can get you alone sometime soon just to show you exactly how he feels.

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world @jaytheatiny @pommelex @thespiffynerd @vixensss @santineez @nopension @domfikeluva @in-somnias-world @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @mountiiny

[thisisaname-whatahappyname]

sushi soucy did not need to pop off this hard ive been in shambles for two days now

[felassan]

DA:TV spoilers under cut.

The Felassan Files (DA:TV-specific post)

Post will be updated if/when needed as I go. This post is a WIP. :)

Please let me know if you have found a codex entry or note etc that I have missed in this post.

DATAMINING

“GENERAL FELASSAN AGE RANGE: 40 CHARACTER DESCRIPTION: The second in command of a resistance army. You’ve an elf who’s fought against the tyranny of your gods, cruel despots who’ve enslaved your people. You’re practical, level-headed, and have good sense for what other people are feeling, which makes you well-suited for your role. Your leader is an elf called Solas, a powerful mage who isn’t quite the people person you are. You respect him, and are there to help him with whatever he needs - especially when he needs guidance about being the face of a resistance.”

“BETRAYAL OF FELASSAN CHARACTER DESCRIPTION: A powerful undead born from Solas’s regrets and betrayals (in this case, Solas’s murder of his friend Felassan by stabbing him in the back).”

[original source, original post]

Betrayal of Felassan is an undead - a revenant - embodying one of Solas' greatest regrets, his murder of his friend.

CODEX ENTRIES

Codex Entry: Introduction to the Lighthouse

"Introduction to the Lighthouse Once, the Lighthouse was a place of learning, with tools to study the secret workings of great magic. When Solas rebelled against those who call themselves our gods, the Lighthouse became his center of operations, with tools to study the best ways to free ourselves from the tyranny of the Evanuris. You are safe here, both those of flesh and those of Fade. Any who wish to help are welcome. The magic of the Lighthouse will provide for your needs, see to your comfort, and even help you understand different tongues, for those who escaped here from distant parts of the empire. Should you have any other needs, ask for the Slow Arrow, and I will help. --Felassan"

Codex Entry: The Dread Wolf's Eluvian

"The Dread Wolf's Eluvian Most of us have only traveled through the eluvians at the whims of those who called themselves our gods. We know them as mirrors that always go from one to another, a bonded pair linked no matter the distance. Solas has outsmarted the so-called gods. If we used normal eluvians, they could track us to our lair. Solas has improved upon June's work by creating a mirror whose singing stone can change its tune to take us to any eluvian and not just its bonded partner. Thus, we can travel wherever this rebellion needs us, with no fear of pursuit. Travel is as safe as a normal eluvian. If you have questions, ask for the Slow Arrow, and I will guide you. --Felassan"

Codex Entry: About the Freed Slaves

"About the Freed Slaves We got word from the warding sites. Many dead, far more than the casualties we inflicted. The story being spread is that we killed everyone. Andruil's servants made examples of a few and claimed the Dread Wolf is trying to weaken Arlathan by attacking servants and destroying the wards. It's hard to tell what people really believe now. I know you're likely berating yourself reading this. Just remember the faces of the people we saved. We can't control what the Evanuris do. And yes, we have to keep playing up the Dread Wolf. The people need someone they believe is strong enough to protect them, or they'll never join us. Don't worry. I promise to mock you viciously if you ever start believing those stories yourself. --Felassan"

Codex entry: Aftermath of Disparaging the Gods

[codex entry is from game files]

"Aftermath of Disparaging the Gods You were right. The Evanuris did not like the insinuation that they need protection. The good news is that public sentiment has turned against the lyrium knights, and our agents got information that let us destroy one of the sarcophagi. The bad news is that Andruil and Ghilan'nain made a big show of putting down a protest in the east personally instead of sending the knights. Andruil left a crater where the town stood, and Ghilan'nain is using the people taken prisoner as fodder for her experiments. This isn't your fault, but still, this is exactly what I was worried about. It's not enough to be right about these things. We have to think about the consequences. --Felassan"

Codex Entry: Felassan's Concerns about the Dagger

[codex entry is from game files]

"Felassan's Concerns about the Dagger I'm keeping calm in front of the new recruits, but you've been dodging me for weeks now. We need to talk about the lyrium dagger. Yes, it's powerful. So is an erupting volcano, and nobody would try to harness that for power. (Well, maybe Andruil, but do you really want to be compared to Andruil?) We need to stop the Evanuris, but I'd rather we didn't destroy the world in the process. If you're certain you can control its power, tell me that. In those words. No equivocating. Also, you and I both know what this dagger means to you. I don't cast my best spells when my spirit is unbalanced. Do you? (That's a real question. Maybe you do!) I'm with you no matter what. --Felassan"

NOTES

Note: Mirrors Upon Mirrors

"MIRRORS UPON MIRRORS This place is amazing. June's normal eluvians function with twinned lyrium fragments. One always leads to another. Solas somehow talked the Crossroads into making Fade-eluvians that override them. His own network to run our rebellion. Provided you ignore all the old stories about holding mirrors up to mirrors and getting caught in the infinite reflections. - Felassan"

Note: An Unknown Artifact

"AN UNKNOWN ARTIFACT What are the Crossroads doing? “The spirits of the Crossroads do as they must, Felassan. As do we all.” Thank you, Solas. That's incredibly useful. Really helps your old friend pull together a rebellion against the Evanuris. - Felassan"

Note: The Blighted Tree

"THE BLIGHTED TREE This is a holy place. The tree draws strength from the earth, just as the first elves did. Some younger elves grow trees in the cities to honor their ancestors. Roots have a tendency to dig down and gnarl up, then twist around things they aren't supposed to, though. Hoping that metaphor doesn't stick. - Felassan"

Note: The Cathedral of Roots

"THE CATHEDRAL OF ROOTS When we first started, this was a safe place for spirits who joined our cause to find peace from the stress of battle. Now... I don't know. Not a lot of spirits use it any longer. Have they grown stronger, or has the fight against the Evanuris made demons of us all? - Felassan"

Note: A Refuge for Mythal

"A REFUGE FOR MYTHAL Solas always thought Mythal would join us eventually, that she was better than the rest of the Evanuris. He made this place so she'd be comfortable here once she joined the rebellion. Now it's too late. Solas has sealed this place off out of grief. He won't let me in. I'm sorry, my friend. There was something left for the war to take from you after all. - Felassan"

Note: Calm Before The Storm

"CALM BEFORE THE STORM I come here sometimes when I need to be myself. Not Solas's friend Felassan. Not the Slow Arrow of the rebellion. Just me. He hasn't been right since what happened with Mythal. He's planning something with the dagger. And if it were a good idea, he'd have told me. Damn it, Solas. I'm with you as long as we're protecting the innocent from the powerful, but you make it hard sometimes. - Felasan"

Note: The Empty Forest

"THE EMPTY FOREST This place used to be full of spirits who flocked to Solas's cause. When his ritual went wrong - when everything went wrong - he vanished, and the spirits stopped coming. Where are you, my friend? You stopped the Evanuris, but broke the world. Please tell me you didn't leave me to fix all this alone. - Felassan"

Note: Faded Note

[this note is not explicitly signed as being by Felassan, but it seems likely to me]

"FADED NOTE Look at this place. We planned a rebellion here once. Said we'd change the future of the elves, throw off tyrants, and we did. Now the path outside is fractured. It'll be hard rekindling all the eluvians. Solas, if you see this: I'll be looking for you, out in this world and in the mortal one. Don't cause too much trouble before I get there."

FELASSAN'S RUNE

"FELASSAN'S RUNE The power of Felassan's Rune is based on how much of the gods' influence you drove back in the Crossroads. Equip Felassan's Rune at the Character screen, and use [buttons] to activate it. This rune can only be used against Elgar'nan."

Close-up of the image of the rune from the pop-up above:

The rune comes in three different strengths, each with a differing design. The design increases in complexity as the rune's strength does. Image of the Ultimate version of the rune, called "The Ultimate Salvation of Felassan":

The design of the carvings of the Felassan runes btw are shaped like arrow-heads, very fitting for the Slow Arrow... :)

I think the two weaker versions of the rune are called The Lesser Salvation of Felassan and The Greater Salvation of Felassan respectively. The appearance of the "Lesser" version is the one shown in the close-up image from the pop-up. And the appearance of the "Greater" version is:

Morrigan's dialogue when she gives Rook the Ultimate version of the rune:

Morrigan: “‘Tis a difficult battle you face, but you are among more allies than you know. You have purified the Crossroads, uncovered ancient truths lost for ages, and earned the essence of Mythal. You are truly the champion of the Fade. Take this. Should your fight against Elgar’nan grow desperate, invoke the memories of the Dread Wolf’s rebels. For you, they will stand against tyranny one las time.”

Rune effects info boxes, explaining what the Ultimate version does in gameplay:

DIALOGUE (this section is a WIP)

The boss "Betrayal of Felassan" has the following lines of dialogue, said as combat barks during its boss fight:

“His back, turned.”

“A story, unfinished.”

“For the Wolf.”

“For freedom.”

These lines of dialogue refer to Solas' murder of Felassan as depicted in Dragon Age: The Masked Empire (and his regrets around this), Felassan's role in their rebellion, and Felassan and Solas' relationship.

MISC

Voice actor: Chris Gordon [IMDB]

Hair: I think Felassan's in-game hairstyle is available in the CC - Hair 47

Vallaslin: Mythal's (as was known before DA:TV released), specifically I think it's Design 34 from the CC

Armor: I think Felassan's in-game armor is available as an appearance Rook can have for theirs. The name and description of it are as follows -

"Arlathan’s Fall (Arlathan) Appearance The harder they hit you, the stronger your resolve. Crafted from ancient Arlathan alloys."

[josephquinnswhore]

Red Wine & Reparation - joel miller x female reader

Summary: you and Joel became young parents, married young and divorced young.. coparenting can be hard.. especially when you still love each other.

Word Count: 7k

Content Warnings: no outbreak, awkward divorced young couple, Joel Miller being a cat guy, flirting, awkwardness, slight implication of attempted SA. Unprotected sex, oral—female receiving, praise, pet names, tongue fucking, slight submissive Joel???? Creampie, mentions of pregnancy, and breastfeeding kink ??

Note: in this fic female reader & Joel are the same age, late 20’s in this fic!! This is my contribution for this week lol.

You were expecting a visit from Joel in a few hours; although you’d tried to be in contact with him, it seemed he was struggling to get back to you. Texts gone unanswered, calls sent straight to voicemail. It was unusual, and as clingy as you felt, it wasn't like Joel not to be in contact, especially when it came to your daughter, Sarah.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

He calls your name from the other side of the door. “Hey, you home?”

The door swings open and Joel stands on the other side of the door, you can't ignore the subsequent look of franticness in his brown eyes. “Hey.” His second greeting is a little more relaxed, if anything a little bashful. The tips of his ears are red under his dark brown curls.

“I just got a new phone, had a little malfunction at work with the other one, mind putting your number in?” You take the new phone, something that seemed way too fancy for Joel, an Iphone 13. As if your eyebrows raise of their own accord, it doesn't go unnoticed by him.

“I never took you for a man that cared about keeping up with the trends.” Your remark earns a scoff. “I just want to be able to keep up with everything Sarah’s into these days, all the facebooking and snapping or whatever she's got.”

His social unawareness pulls a laugh from her dry throat. “I'm surprised she wants you on her snapchat, teenage girls don’t normally want their parents seeing what they’re up to.”

He grunts. “How are you anyway—both of you.. I mean.”

“Things have been okay, I've taken a step back from work to try and relax a bit more, you know?” Although Joel nods, he can't relate, he’d just gone through the ringer of starting his own business with Tommy.

But Joel knows you need a break, he notices the physical telltale signs of stress. Lines beside your eyes that didn't seem visible a few months ago, the slight strain in yout voice and even your physical stance seems off. You seem to be trying to mask it, but he notices.

“Everything at work alright? They givin’ you trouble again?”

Again. How you'd forgotten about the last time you confided about how bad work had been getting. The unpaid overtime and extensive workload. Joel seemed furious at the thought of you wearing yourself thin and had even rung your workplace, that's an incident that got you a written warning.

In an attempt to dismiss his worries you wave your hand. “Ah it's not so bad, I’ve taken some time off with what little annual leave I have.”

“That’s good. You work too hard, you do.” His voice is softer than it had been a moment ago, his gaze settling on your own. He tries his hardest to suppress the memories as he stares into your eyes, he tries to forget how easy things were back then in comparison to now.

You break eye contact as you feel your kitten rubbing herself up against your legs. The little creature lets out a small mew.

Joel’s shock is evident on his face, the fluffy white bundle of fur rubs itself along your pant leg, its tiny mews echoing in his ears. “Oh my god, what in the world..” He stammers. “Is that…?”

Your entire face heats up. “I know.. I've never been a fan of cats but.. She's cute right?”

Joel can't help the instinctual reaction to kneel down onto the floor to get a closer look at the fluffy bundle of fur. He lets the small creature sniff his hand before petting her. With every stroke of his fingers along her pointed ears, she purrs louder. “What's her name?”

“Her names angel. Sarah named her.”

“Of course she would,” Joel murmurs, still petting the kitten as he looks up at you from the floor. “How'd you end up with a kitten anyhow?”

You huff at the memory. “Found her on the side of the road, I think someone dumped her.”

“God, that’s terrible. Why would anyone do something like that? Who just dumped a living animal in the middle of the road?” He shakes his head as he grumbles angrily. He strokes the kitten in a softer manner, expressing his sympathy for the little animal.

You're stewing in your own irritation at the thought. “Some jackass.”

The conversation seems to grow quiet, with the only noise being the kitten’s contented purrs. “She's a lucky kitty is what she is, havin’ two special girls lookin’ after her.” He murmurs, leaning in to tickle the small kitten under the chin with a chuckle.

“I never took you for a cat man, hell—you're looking like such a softie right now,” you tease.

“It's the one thing you never really knew then, right?” The kitten rolls on its back, purring as it scratches itself on the soft creamy carpet. “I bet you would’ve known all my soft spots had things been different back then.”

A sombre mood falls between the two. “Maybe so..”

Joel turns away with a regretful look in his eyes, it's a painful truth, and one the pair had both seemed to accept. Despite the way the two had seemed to adapt to the co-parenting situation.. They're both reminded every single day since their split of what could have been.

“Yeah.. maybe so.” He lets out a sigh, watching as the small kitten runs off, and he's left kneeling on the floor as he watches after it. He doesn't really know what to say.. And he's not sure you do either, it’s awkward to have these quiet moments between them.

“You know.. Sarah told me you went on a date last week.” You try to sound as encouraging as possible, but even as your heart cracks, it seems to break the silence brewing between you. And honestly, you’re nosey.

His face seems to redden at your playful accusation. “Damn.. she really has no filter, does she?” An awkward chuckle follows as he lets out a small groan and his knees crack as he stands up off the floor. As his gaze meets your own again, he wonders how you'll take the news. If he’s lucky, you’ll be jealous.

“She's a smart kid.. observant.” A small moment of silence briefs the conversation before you can stop yourself from asking.. “How was it? The date I mean.”

“That she is..” Joel murmurs before adding reluctantly. “The date was just.. Not a good fit. It didn't go well.” He shrugs, but you knew it would've been a massive blow to his self esteem. “I don't know why I tried… just thought.. maybe..” He rubs the back of his head and chuckles anxiously as he trails off.

It seems his self esteem did take quite the blow.

“Don't be so hard on yourself now, you're a catch, and any good woman will see that.”

Joel’s eyes narrow into a frown. “I'm hardly a catch.. Let's be real, I work too much.” He pauses. “Maybe I'm still caught up on..” He catches himself before he admits it..

Your ears perk at this. “Who doesn't love a hardworking man.” You tease lightly.

He manages a smile at your teasing. “I’m not a catch.. this..” He gestures to himself pitifully. “Is not a catch. Truth be told I’m.. I'm still pretty caught up on you and I'm not even ashamed to say it.”

“Hell—why?” Is all you manage to ask in a stutter.

“Because..” He lets out a frustrated noise and scratches his head anxiously. “Because I should have fought for you, I should have tried harder. You were everything I wanted. Still are.. Honestly.” His tone takes a solemn tone. “That doesn't just go away, all of those feelings.”

“You're right.. They don't just go away.” Your agreement to his statement has him wondering, his eyes searching your face for any sliver of teasing.

“So.. what does that mean? If I was to say.. If I was to ask something stupid.. Would you be angry?”

You're a little confused by his sudden bashfulness. “That depends on what you're asking.”

“Hypothetically..” He starts. “If I were to ask you out on a date, for old times sake..” He trails off and doesnt look back at you, there's a pregnant silence between you both..

“You want to take me on a date?” You ask in confusion.

He clears his throat and looks up to you, his eyes shifting around the room. “Is that a stupid question?”

“Well.. how about you ask me on a real date and maybe… I’ll say yes..”

His head spins in a daze, his heart doubles in size as he realises how much he wants this. “...are you serious?”

You simply nod, waiting for him to ask you on a date properly.

He's nervous, shifting from foot to foot, as if this was the hardest thing he's ever had to ask. “Okay then..” He mumbles to himself, clearing his throat, trying to steady his voice. “Would you care to.. Join me for a dinner date.. at my place?”

He actually asked..

“I would be happy to join you for dinner, Joel.”

It seems as if he's having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that you actually accepted. Even though it's what he wanted, needed.. He had somehow still expected you to decline. The look in your eye contractics his anxiety, though.

“You sure?” He asked, insecurity evident in his shallow voice. “I mean, you still remember how much I work, right? I have to finish this job for a client, he's on my ass about it, keeps asking me when I'm gonna be finished, but I told him I'm on track. Gonna put in some big hours to get this done.”

How could you forget, it was the reason you split all those years ago. His work was all consuming.

Your heart aches at his attempt to push you away–to take your pending rejection on the chin. “How about you let me know when you're free and you can cook for me, hm?”

The offer was flexible, giving him a chance to relieve himself of the pressure and try to find a day that works for you both.

Joel seemed to appreciate the offer, and his face visibly relaxed. “That sounds perfect, as soon as this project is done, and this client is off my ass, then we’ll figure out our date.”

“Sounds great, just send me a text and let me know, yeah?” You smile and tuck your phone into your jean pocket.

“Count on it.” He spoke with such promise it was hard not to get excited about what was to come.. Maybe they could rekindle what they once had. “I'll talk to you later then?” He takes a step towards the front door, his phone rings loudly, you assume it's a client of his.

“Yeah, we’ll talk later..”

As you close the door, it takes a moment to process what had just happened. A stupidly big smile resides on your lips, giddy with excitement, the disbelief that this is happening. Joel doesn’t text till late, but you’re ecstatic that he did get into contact about something other than who has custody of Sarah for the weekend.

Joel Miller 😉 10:45 pm

Hey, I'm sorry it's late, I just wanted to catch up. How's this weekend sound to you? For our date..

You. 10:47 pm

No sweat. What time were you thinking?

Joel Miller 😉 10:50 pm

Hoping to see you around 7. I'll cook dinner and we can just hang out. Unless you wanted to do something else?

You. 10:52 pm

No. it sounds perfect. 7 works for me.

Joel Miller 😉 10:53 pm

Great.. See you at 7 then.. Saturday..

You. 10:53 pm

Great! See you then handsome. 😉

Joel Miller 😉 10:58 pm

See you, beautiful. 😜😏😊

You can't help but laugh at the emojis Joel sent; he was such an old man that didn't understand a damn thing about technology, sure he was trying, but it seemed to get the better of him.

The week is slow and miserable, with your time off work and Sarah at school, you're not sure what to do with yourself for many hours of the days that slowly pass on by. You spend a lot of time reading your books that had sat and collected many layers of dust on the bookshelf in your living room, even taking your little kitten, angel, for walks on a small leash.

You find that as you become moderately okay with being alone, and in the company of naught but a small kitten, time seems to pass by much quicker than it did.

You'd been doting on what you'd wear all week–hell, you were still trying not to think too much about it. Choosing a simple lavender sundress, it was far too hot to wear anything that would stick to your skin. And whatever sin you’ve commited by wearing matching lavender lingerie is no one's business but your own.. Joel wouldn't know anyway.

It couldn't hurt to hope, right? It had been years since you been laid.

“God what the hell is wrong with me?” You murmur to yourself, one hand desperately clutching onto a bottle of red wine, as if you couldn't make it any more awkward. It's 6:50 pm. But you couldn't bare to sit across the damned street in your car a moment longer, your heart ager and anxiety running wild.

Knock, knock. Your hand raps on the hardwood door twice, hands shaking from being so anxious.

As the door opens, Joel grins. “Hey.. you're early.” Taking in his appearance, you can't help but swallow the saliva that had built up in the few seconds you’d spent greedily staring at him. Hell— it was only a brown cotton shirt and a pair of jeans, but he looked incredible.

“I know.. I hope that's okay.” His own eyes take a moment to appreciate your outfit, the perfectly fitting seam of lavender purple that fits snug around your breasts.

“Totally fine, I’m ready in here.. I made you something special.” The grin on his face is cheeky and he takes the bottle of wine from your trembling hands and opens the door wider for you to enter. “Come on in.”

He has absolutely outdone himself, it seemed Joel had managed to clean the entire house in the week coming up to this evening. The house is cleaner than it's ever been, his kitchen is full of colour of fruits and a wonderful aroma swirls around as you walk through the hallway. The counter is a little cluttered with spices and a half drunken can of beer.

“You've absolutely outdone yourself joel.” The compliment seemed to naturally expel from your lips, seeing how he had set the dining table up, in the middle was a simple summer salad and two wine glasses, as if he knew you'd be bringing the wine..

“I would be a terrible host if I didn't have something special in store for you..” As he trails off, the sound of a timer from the kitchen buzzes, and Joel rubs his hands together. “Here, why won't you take a seat?” He pulls the chair out, waiting for you to take the offer, of course you accept, taking a seat and he tucks your chair in.

“Be back in a moment with the food, make yourself comfortable.” The smell is absolutely incredible as Joel steps back out of the kitchen and sets a steaming pan of hot pasta right in front of you, sitting on the seat across from you.

“Jesus, how in the world? I remember all those years ago you couldn't even seem to grasp the concept of avocado toast.”

Joel laughs halfheartedly at your comment. “I wasn't much of a cook back then was I? Always relying on you to use your magic in the kitchen.” He grasps the wine and opens the bottle, pouring you a generous glass. “The fact that you remember that is pretty impressive though. That had to be what.. five or six years ago?”

You can't help but feel embarrassed to be caught out. “I guess I have a knack for remembering things, god.. Sarah would have been barely five back then..”

When you split..

Joel senses the tension in your voice, and serves himself some wine, taking a small sip. “Yeah, she was pretty young back then. It seems like only yesterday that she was a baby..” He takes a small pause as he reminisces. “I always liked when you carried her around in that sling you had for her. Never really understood why you didn't just use a pram..the sling seemed like much more work.”

You let out a small laugh. “I just liked having her close to me, and I hated those goddamn prams so much. I could never figure out how to use the stupid things.”

“Yeah, they were kinda bulky.. I never liked them much either, honestly. Still.. You'd spend like an hour just letting her nap on your chest, you would just carry her around the house.” He lifts the wine glass, his cheeks bare a resemblance to the dark red wine. “I always thought it was kinda adorable.”

The thought makes you stop and think, lifting the glass up to your lips to take a tentative sip. “Do you ever wish we could have a do over?”

He swallows the small amount of wine in his mouth, the smile that was on his face slowly fades. He never thought they would ever speak of this, of their past. He held a lot of guilt, that they fell apart because of him, he was the one who ruined a good thing. Now.. six years later, he had a chance to mend things, maybe even create something new between the two. “Every day.”

The silence hangs in the air between them for a few moments.. “Well.. either way. Sarah turned out wonderful, and that is something we both ought to be proud of.” Your hand meets his own for a brief moment.

Joel can't help but nod in agreement. Sarah was kind, intelligent, thoughtful and empathetic. He couldn't help but feel like Sarah was turning out more like you than him, and he was grateful for it. “But still, I can't help but want.. I don't want a do-over. What we had was good until I screwed it up, I just wish there was some way I could make up for that.”

“Hey—come on now.. You were working overtime back then..trying to keep our heads above water. I didn't.. I didn't understand the sacrifice you were making for our family back then.. You sacrificed a lot, joel..”

Joel looks up at you in surprise when you assure him of his goodwill. In a sense, he's grateful you're defending him, but you’ve always been too kind about the past, too forgiving, he doesn't know if he deserves it. “Yeah I was working a tonne of overtime.. I was trying to save up for a house, I wanted to take care of you both.. Guess it got out of hand.”

You can't help but feel a sense of nostalgia as you look around the house that you both raised Sarah in for the first five years of her life.. “You did it Joel, you got the house and.. Now you're starting up your own business. You've come a long way.”

“Sometimes I wonder if it was all worth it, I missed out on a lot of Sarah's younger years in the process… it's not time that I can get back.. and I know it was my own doing.”

“That was your sacrifice.. And it was so she could have a good childhood. That in itself makes you an incredible father. She knows what you did for us, for her, and she loves you.”

Joel knew that much was true, he concedes this as the truth. He couldn't deny that he had an incredible relationship with his daughter. There were many things joel regretted in his life and from the past, but he couldn't recall a single moment of regret when it came to how he chose to raise Sarah.

“I think we're well overdue for some more wine, wouldn't you say?” You grin, nodding toward the bottle, and with a small smirk, Joel complies, filling your glass half full and his own the same.

“That may be true,” he replies playfully. “But I'm still gonna need you to take it easy. I'm not prepared for what you'll be like once you're tipsy.”

“I'll be on my best behaviour.” You grin, almost too mischievously.

“I'm not believing that for a single second. I know you.. as soon as the wine hits, you’re gonna lose your inhibitions and start trying to charm me.”

Rolling your eyes is an appropriate response. “As if I need to try to charm you, Joel Miller.”

“See?” He chuckles, “even now, you're flirting with me.”

You are amused by his tone and can't help but be a smartass. “Hey—this is a date.. Isn't it?”

With genuine amusement in his tone, he laughs. “Well, I suppose it is. But you can't deny that if I keep pouring you this wine, you wont end up in my lap within the half hour?”

“Pour me another glass and find out.” You challenge, setting the now empty glass in front of him.

He raises an eyebrow, but pours you a third glass of wine, handing the glass back to you. “Here you go.” He wonders if he'll be right in his prediction.

You hold the glass up and take a sip, eyes closing momentarily as the warmth slides straight down to your stomach. Silently thanking him.

Joel leans back into his chair, after topping up his own glass that wasn't quite empty yet, watching you with a brightness in his eyes. “You know, even though we haven't been an actual couple in half a decade, it's still nice to be having one of these again.. as strange as that sounds.”

With a raised eyebrow and amusement in your tone. “I dont think its strange at all, I think it's wonderful.”

He hums in response, finally digging into the pasta that had been sitting there since he served it steaming hot off the stove, you follow in tow, deciding that your stomach has somehow made room for the deliciously smelling creamy pasta. You can't help but groan in delight as you chew the creamy pasta. “Fucking delicious.” You mutter.

As the two of you decide to eat, Joel notes that you’re out of wine… “I'll get another bottle.” You insist, seeing that he's digging into his dinner.

You know your way around the kitchen you'd spent years living in, reaching upward for the wine cupboard, it seems you can't quite reach, whispering to yourself.. “Goddamnit.” You don’t realise you’ve been staring at the cupboard for a few minutes until you hear him.

“Having some trouble?” You don't have the nerve to turn around at how husky his voice sounds. He decided to take advantage of the fact that he had disarmed you with his voice alone, and slips up behind you, his chest flush against your back. He doesn't bother to help you reach the wine, instead he wraps his arms around your waist.

You can't help but lean backwards into him, closing your eyes as you lean your head backward into his shoulder. Your heart skips at the sensation of him pulled taut against you, it had been too long since he held you like this.

His hand caresses the side of your neck, and he whispers softly into your ear. “How's the wine treating you baby? Seems like your skin is a little warm..” He teased boldly.

“Who said it's got anything to do with the wine? My handsome ex husband is holding me— I think that calls for some mandatory blushing, does it not?”

Joel chuckles and squeezes you tighter around your hips, his body pressing against yours firmly, your hips pressed against the bench. “Ex-husband… is that what I am to you now?” He asked, smirking.

You can't help but laugh breathlessly. “Legally, yes.”

“Legally, maybe,” he replies, his smirk broadening. “But in my eyes.. Who you truly belong to is not a matter of legality..” He leans in and whispers softly into your ear, his lips tickle the skin. “Just a matter of heart..”

You shudder as his warm breath warms your ears. “Joel Miller, the romantic.”

“What can I say, you bring out the best in me.” He replies softly, lips against your neck, his voice carries a seductive undertone. One hand slides up your arms and he grabs you to spin you around, his eyes boring into you as your back is pushed against the counter, you’re forced to meet his gaze as his hand grips the nape of your neck. “Do you want to know what I really think about you?”

His sudden manoeuvre has her shocked into near silence. “What do you think of me Joel?”

He hesitates, trying to find the right words. He can't mess this up, not with your large and vulnerable eyes watching him. “You're beautiful,” he praised softly. “You have the most kind-hearted soul I've ever known.. You're a wonderful mother… and you’ll be the only one I’ll ever truly want..”

Maybe the wine helped him be bold enough to be truthful in this moment, or oversharing. He felt like this might be the only chance he might have.

“Why did it take half a bottle of wine for you to tell me all this?” You mumble.

Joel goes quiet. He can't help but stare down at you, the smirk on his lips fades, you'd always been able to see through him. “I was scared,” a note of humility in his voice. “Scared that once you knew, you wouldn't want to look at me again. I always thought you were out of my league, ya know? I didn't deserve someone like you…still don't know if I do.”

His self depreciation was never something you would come to accept. “Don't talk like that, Jesus Joel. You really have no idea how much I love you, do you?”

“How can you still love me?” He asks, although he's almost afraid of the answer you'll give. “I hurt you, I let myself drift so far from what mattered..”

“Joel… you've done nothing that isn't worth forgiving,” you promise softly.

Joel can't help himself as he pulls you against him, chest to chest. He holds you tightly, as if it might be the last time…”But that's the problem,” he said softly. “Not that what I did isn’t forgivable…but that it didn't need to happen in the first place. It hurts me just thinking about how much I lost sight of things, but it can't have been worse than how much I must've hurt you…”

Your hands have a mind of their own as they cup his cheeks, making him look down at you. “Now you listen to me, okay? I love you. Things were not easy for us back then.. We were young parents and struggling to pay the bills, parenthood hit us fucking hard and we didnt make it..” You sigh, your eyes full of love and vulnerability. “Hell—I don't even remember half of it… but were here now, we have a chance to make things better than they were, we can start new.”

He nods as he rests his forehead against your own, a small smile on his lips. You easily wipe away any insecurity and self guilt he held for their split. You were right, of course. This wasn't the time to dwell on the past, on what could've been, not when the two of you were here… now, with a brand new start. “Let's try again, huh?” He asks in a low whisper.

Pulling your lip between your teeth, you nod against his own warm skin. “Let's try again…”

His hands are warm as they caress your cheeks, he pulls you into him for a kiss, lips meeting and you're flooded with emotion, all the doubt and uncertainty you both held washed away as soon as your lips connected. The bittersweet aftertaste of wine lingers on your warm lips. He struggled to pull away from you, but he looked down at your loved filled eyes, gazing softly up at him. “God, I've missed that.” He whispers softly.

He brushes a handful of strands of loose hair out of your face, looking down at you, you note his pupils are dilated. “You still take my breath away,” he laughs softly, caressing your cheek.

You flush at his praise. “Trying to get in my good books already?”

He was definitely trying. “You can't fault me for trying, I could really use some brownie points right now, ya know?”

Laughing at his sense of humour, you roll your eyes. “You're a crooked man Joel, and I love it.”

“Is that supposed to be an insult or a compliment?” An amused tone in his voice, his body pressing against your own. He leans down to kiss you again softly, his hands caressing your waist and letting his fingers trail up the side of your torso.

“Of course it's a compliment—other men have their heads on straight and they are just…weird. You're a little crooked, a little weird, and I like that..”

The way you accept his flaws leaves him more in awe of you, he can't complain at how endearing you find his oddities. “And so youre saying it's a good thing that I'm a little unhinged at times?” He chuckles, reaching up under your chin to trace small shapes on the soft skin.

You have a little mischief twinkling in your eyes.. “Oh you know—when you get all angry and protective. Definitely crooked, but so sexy.”

“You find it hot when I get territorial over you?” He couldn't help but laugh at her admission.

The wine flows through you, giving you a sense of boldness. You run a hand down his chest, manicured fingers tickling him through the brown cotton shirt. “Do you remember that time I was on a date with that jackass, I was drunk outta my mind—”

He scowls at the memory of that night, you, his ex-wife on a date with some chump named James. The man had tried to take you home, even though you were inebriated. “Yeah, I do,” he replied with a possessive tone to his voice. “You were wasted, couldn't even walk straight.. But I knew what that animal was thinking, I could see the way he looked at you.”

“All I could remember was how infuriated you were, the sexiest thing I'd ever seen..” Your eyes draw him in, batting your lashes at him.

Joel smirks, a light blush spreading from his neck up his cheeks, to his ears from your comment. “You thought it was sexy huh? I thought I'd lost my shit and went a little overboard..”

You can only shrug, unbothered by his reaction at that time. “Oh—maybe you did, I mean you did beat him to a pulp in that forsaken carpark, didn’t you baby? All for me.”

“That prick needed his ass kicked either way,” he growls. “There was no way I was letting him have you.. Drunk or not, that man crossed a line, and I’d do it all over again.”

Your heart doubles in size, and you can feel your knees weakening. “You'd do it all over again?”

He doesn't hesitate. “I'd do it a thousand times over.. At that moment.. in my mind, you were still my girl, being hit on by some creep. And I wasn't going to let him take you away from me.” He pauses, wondering if his explanation sounded too crazy. “You still meant alot to me.. Even after we split.. You always have.”

You run a finger down his cheek, the coarse hairs of his beard make a sound that sends a tingle down your spine. “What I wouldn't do to see that side of you again.”

Joel tilts his head slightly and takes a moment to ponder your comment. He was surprised to hear you admit how much you loved this dominant and possessive side of him. “That side of me.. You want to see it again, cause I can make it happen, baby girl. Just say the words.”

You couldn't help the way you trembled, sure that the only thing keeping you up right was Joel's hips pressing against your own, back digging into the bench. “Please,” you beg pathetically. His hand reaches up to your neck, holding you by the neck, forcing you to look up at him. He applies a small amount of pressure that has you whimpering.

The way you melt under his possessive gesture was enough for him to feel confident that this side of him was still within reach and you loved it. He leans closer to you and kisses you again, this time more forcefully. He lets his fingers dig into your soft flesh, squeezing firmly while knowing it's not causing you pain or discomfort.

Hearing your squeaking moans, and the way your body seems to relax into him as he takes control of you.. He takes this as motivation to move his lips against yours with a different kind of hunger. Feeding into the darker side of himself, trying to recapture that long-lost side of him that he's lost after letting you walk out of his life.

But he wouldn't let you go, no, not this time. He had his fingers digging into your flesh and his lips moving against yours with so much force, he shoves his tongue into your mouth..

His free hand wanders along your body, feeling the warmth of the wine and from the heat of his touch, your body reacting exactly how it used to, as if no time has passed at all. His hand gropes your breast roughly, squeezing and slipping past the two layers of fabric. He pulls away from your lips, eyes darkening. “Wearing a lace bra just for me, huh baby? Bet you've got a matching set on, don't you?” He growls.

“Y–Yes..” A feeble moan emits from your lips, smothered in his spit. The thought drives him wild, and slides down the straps to your dress and takes in the lavender lace bra you brought specially for tonight. “Fuck, you’re a naughty girl aren’t you?”

When you don't respond, he grabs at your breasts roughly, grasping the soft flesh between his calloused fingers, pinching your nipples harshly, making you cry out in pleasure, it was a sensitive spot for you, one that Joel remembered well.

He leans down, greedily sucking all the sweat off your warm skin, licking and nipping, his teeth biting down into the flesh of your neck, leaving an immediate mark, claiming his stake on you. You were his..

His lips messily kissed your breasts, tongue finally meeting the nipple where he suckled harshly, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. “Do you remember when you were pregnant? Let me drink your milk straight from the source, didn’t you baby? Fuck.. what I wouldn’t give to do that again,” he whimpers against your skin.

Your heart races, running your fingers through his dark hair. He spends his time at your breasts, alternating pleasuring the two, making sure they’re both equally as tended to as the other. “Tits are so fucking perfect baby.” He praises.

His greedy hands trail down your body, the fabric of your dress bunching at his fingers, as he slides them down your legs, he’s on his knees.. face to face with the matching lavender lace panty that covers your pussy. An involuntary moan leaves his lips, he can’t tear his eyes away at the large sopping wet patch in the middle of your panties. “Fucking hell, I can smell your need, you know that?”

Your legs tremble at his sudden growl, he could smell her arousal? The thought embarrassed her. The thought didn’t stay long in her head, he presses his face into your cunt with the panties still on, moaning against you. His large nose bumping your swollen clit through the material, and you let out a whine and curl your fingers through his hair. “Please Joel.. I need more.”

He ignores your pleas for more, licking and sucking you through your panties, he can taste you through them, he’s like an animal being teased through a cage, and he’s painfully hard, teasing the both of you with his devilish antics.

“Fuck Joel! Please!” You beg a little louder, crying out as she tugs on his hair.

Without another moment passing, his thick fingers tear the lace in half, exposing your mound. You didn’t shave, your pubic hair was trimmed but still bush enough for Joel to dive into. His mouth watered, he had always had a preference for hair down there, he’d seen it in pornography magazines growing up, and he fucking desired it ever since.

Women these days are all about shaving, being bare and having brazilians.

Fuck that. This is what Joel needed.

“Fucking hell baby you’re gonna kill me.” He groaned into your cunt. Diving face first, his arms wrap around your ass and pull you tight, his face buried into your cunt as far as he could go.

You stumble and lift one leg over his shoulder, trying to support yourself a little more. It feels impossible though, the way Joel’s tongue dives into your cunt, lapping at the juices you’re giving him, pushing his tongue as far into your hole as he can reach. His hawkish nose presses into your clit and you feel your legs trembling, like you’re about to topple over.

“Joel..” you warn breathlessly. You’re close, so fucking close.

“Cum for me baby. Fuck.. please.” Suddenly he was the one begging, on his knees lapping at your cunt, whining against you. Feeling him beg against you was all it took for you to come undone.. your legs buckle and you tremble above him, clutching onto his shoulder, as you cry out, your clit tingles with pleasure as Joel slowly rolls his tongue against it, trying to string out your orgasm.

He laps you up, all of you, not letting a single drop go to waste, his eyes are black with desire and his face is glistening with you, smeared all over his face, finally, he rises to his feet. “Turn around baby girl.” He orders, his voice husky from your slick.

You can do nothing but comply, he shoves you against the counter, your hips against the cold wood. You can hear him, his breaths are quick, he’s frantically unbuckling his belt, tying the brown leather around your wrists..

You feel his hard cock against your ass, and your eyes widen, forgetting how big he was, did he get bigger?

With one hand he pushes you down onto the bench so you’re lying, face down. “That’s it angel. You’re so fucking sweet, aren’t you baby?” He praises senselessly, the swollen tip of his cock meets your hole and you squeak out, he stretches you, beyond what you ever remembered. “J-Joel.” You whine and inhale sharply, face still pressed against the cold countertop, arms bound behind your back and his throbbing thick cock pushing inside of you, you’re helpless, completely at his mercy and you fucking love it.

Your cunt can testify the fact, it’s dripping, all over Joel, he pushes himself into the hilt of you and groans loudly, a loud grunt leaving his lips. One hand holds you flat against the counter, the other holds your bound arms at his chest.

He slowly starts to thrust, legs quaking with desire, he knows he won’t last long, fuck, he’s never had a pussy so perfect, not after you, all he knows is the warmth of you, your perfectly tight hole, sucking him in deeper.

Your moans are loud, but muffled by your cheeks squished against the counter, you can almost feel him in your ribs, with every thrust it feels like you’re running out of oxygen. Strangled gasps leave your lips as your pussy clenches around him, threatening to spill over a second time..

Joel can feel it, the way you grip him, he knows he won’t last, he grunts as he presses himself flush against you, your arms behind your back hinder his need to be closer to you, but this way.. he wraps his hand around your neck, bringing you upright, flush to his chest.

“Fuck, that’s it baby.” He growls, his cock pummels into you mercilessly, and now you’re free to cry out as loud as you can.

“Joel.. Joel.. I’m.. I..” you stutter, in between moans, your cunt clenching around him. You tense up as you orgasm a second time, creaming all over his throbbing cock.

He brings you totally upright, his hand tightening around your throat. “Fuck baby.. I’m gonna cum.. fill this perfect pussy up.” He whimpered into your ear, biting down on your neck.

You can feel him tensing, seconds later.. heavy and warm ropes of his cum spurt so far into your womb you whimper, knowing that he’s sure to get you knocked up.. again. He lets out the most obnoxious grunting as he pants heavily into your ears.

“Joel.. fuck I’m.. not on birth control.” You whimper. He keeps his cock inside of you, until he softens and pulls out of you, untying the belt that restrained your hands, as your hands fall limply by your sides, he kisses your shoulders, knowing there’s ought to be an ache.

“Good. Maybe we can have a do over after all, hm?” He murmurs softly, kissing the back of your neck. His hands find their way down to your stomach, caressing it softly. “Wouldn’t hurt to have just one more.. would it?”

After all, Joel Miller was a possessive man, a greedy man. You would bare as many children as he wished, because you weren’t ever going anywhere again. You were his.

“Might as well marry me again while you’re at it.” You tease breathlessly.

He hums against your skin, his forehead resting on the back of your shoulder. “Already thinkin’ bout it baby.”

Because Joel Miller wouldn’t let you get away, not this time.

[sawyerslvt]

His Pretty Girl | Johnny Slaughter (TCM)

Summary: You and Johnny spend some alone time together at the slaughterhouse while the whole family is away. You get to have both sweet, fluffy moments but also rough sex :) Word Count: 3,584 Warnings: MDNI, smut, sex, fluffy Johnny, overstimulation, age gap

‘There you go… just like that pretty girl’

His rough and calloused hands travel the sides of your waist as you unbutton your blouse. You're surprised by the soft and gentle touch he’s able to provide, considering the state of his hands. Cuts and scars scattered all around, covering his big hands. 

You don't break his eye contact as you slowly reveal your plump breasts, button for button, making him hitch his breath in anticipation. His eyes are glued to you as you slowly undress yourself. They travel all over. From your eyes, to your breast, your waist, your swollen lips… oh, especially those lips. Johnny can never get enough of those. He had spent a long time sucking on them earlier. Kissing has never been as good as it is with Johnny. He takes his time, it's not something he does in passing. Kissing has its own full sessions, deep, wet, sloppy and passionate. It never fails to leave you in a pool of your soaking wet mess. Your pussy begging to be filled with his thick and experienced fingers.

You make sure to make slow work of your undressing. This part was usually something Johnny would take care of but he’s letting you go at your own pace. The patience the man has managed to build with a woman like you is unbelievable. The way he snaps and barks at any- one or thing, no one would ever believe you if you told them how smitten he is, when the topic is you. Still you see the pain behind his eyes as he clenches his hands around your waist trying to keep his cool. This slow shit you’re pulling has got to be the cruelest form of torture that this slaughterhouse has seen. And that says a lot considering this was the slaughterhouse belonging to the Slaughter family. 

‘you’re killing me darlin, please pretty baby. let me do it’ You smile. An annoyingly, adorable smug expression that tugs at Johnny’s heartstrings. God, you're too much, you're lucky he’s managed to build that patience with you, but lord knows, it's about to crumble down with the way you are looking at him right now. 

‘mmh mmh’ You shake your head as you deny his request. You don't finish unbuttoning all the way, just enough to have your soft upper breast be visible, enough to drive any man wild. You get close to his face, conning him into thinking you're gonna crash your lips into his, but instead you place your small and delicate hands on his hard chest and push him down on the worn down mattress. Your breast recoils as you land on top of him, while his back crashes into the soft surface below you. His hands are quick to find their way to your ass, cupping it as your barely clothed body lay over his bare torso. You let out something between a giggle and a moan. Johnny bucks his hips under you, making you aware of his growing erection under his tight jeans. 

‘you feel that my love? Do you understand what you do to me huh? Let me see…’ He glances at the blouse you're wearing. ‘take this off for me and i’ll take care of the rest little one.’ His voice is that low and deep one you’ve learned means don’t fight me. That's the same tone he uses to carefully make you realize that your games are done for, and it's time to listen to your Johnny. 

‘uh… s-so i was thinking… that… m-maybe I could be in charge this time?’ Johnny smirks and raises an eyebrow at the lack of confidence in the voice of someone wanting to take charge. He lets out a small chuckle and you can't help but look down and blush at him making fun of you. ’How could I possibly resist that sweet face, doll?’ He moves around under you to get more comfortable, his cock trying desperately to pierce through the thick fabric to kiss your pussy with his tip. He places both his hands behind his head and gives you a cocky smirk. ‘Give it your best shot princess.’

You didn't expect him to fold so easily. That's all you had to do? Just ask? Not that you had any complaints regarding how he dealt with you before but sometimes it's nice to feel like you're in control. You shuffle around in his crotch, digging your aching pussy deeper into his big bulge. You make sure to drag your hands over his chest as you slowly make your way closer to his face. This time, actually placing your soft lips on his. You moan slightly as you come in contact with his lips, he grunts in response. The man was a natural, you've never met someone that had the rhythm Johnny possessed. He’s truly one of a kind. You cup his face with both hands as you deepen the kiss. It's already so desperate and you haven't even gotten started yet. 

You break the kiss to unbutton your blouse the rest of the way. This time, not in a slow fashion at all. You're suddenly impatient to feel Johnny's rough hands caress your bare skin. He knows you well enough to already have his hands touch and travel your belly and breasts before you even finish taking the blouse off. Once it's off, his hands find their way to your bra clasp and in one swift motion, it unclips and your breasts jiggle as they get let loose. He lets out a low and desperate grunt at the view presented to him, you sitting on his now pulsing and aching cock, topless, and ready to be fucked dumb. 

You swing your leg over and get off his crotch and sit with your hands laid on your knees. He watches you curiously and honestly… you've never really been in charge before, you're not sure what to do next. Johnny goes from having his hands behind his head, to now leaning on his elbows. He gets that you've already hit a fat wall at the ‘taking charge’ thing you made a fuss about. He gives you a quick nod of the head, pointing at his bulge. A quiet ‘oh’ escapes your lips at the realization. You smile to yourself, a little embarrassed you couldn't figure that much out. 

You fidget with his zipper with your mouth slightly agape, preparing for his size. This is far from your first time doing this but somehow it suddenly feels like it. As soon as you manage to unzip and wiggle his beautifully tight wrangler jeans off his bulge, his cock springs out as if it was suffocating and finally comes up for air. You’ve been with Johnny for a long time now, he took a liking to you immediately and you got promoted from helpless victim- to plaything- to wife in the blink of an eye. You've seen his cock more times that you can count but it will forever shock you like it's the first time. It’s massive, you didn't even know they come in this size. You swear, you see his hard cock pulsing. His veins look like they're about to burst. You quickly bring both your hands to wrap around his girth like you're protecting him from exploding.

‘yes just like that darlin, you're doing so good.’ His voice is so smooth and it makes your hands automatically rub his length to make him praise you more, his pride for you is addictive. Up and down, slowly, up and down as you make sure to hold a fairly tight grip of his sensitive cock. You watch as you see the tight skin of his circumcised penis move with your hands. You stroke a finger over his tip and feel his pre-cum leaking out, wet and sticky for you.

You tap it and pull away to see it create a string of cum between your finger and his sore tip. ‘fuckkk.’ He lets his head fall behind him and as he does, you bring your lips to his swollen peak. He quickly brings his head back once he realizes what you've done. You suck to build pressure and then circle your tongue around his tip. Playing with it, teasing and tasting his cum. You let out a quiet moan before you let your lips sink deeper down his shaft. You hear him gasp as he positions himself to only lean on one elbow to use his other hand to grab the back of your head. His hand is so big, it almost engulfs your whole head as it follows the movement of your head. Up and down, as your mouth slowly fills with more and more saliva to lube it up and make it easier to slide. ‘fuckkk you're being such a good girl for me princess.’

He continues watching you with his head tilted, you look back at him with your glossy doe eyes, having gone a little too far down, making your eyes water. ‘my sweet angel, am I too much for you?’ You shake your head, with his cock still filling your entire mouth. You manage to let out a small ‘nuh uh’ to emphasize how you wouldn't have it any other way… though it just comes out as a moan anyways. ‘good, I wouldn't want to hurt that pretty little mouth of yours.’ 

Your pussy is so wet… too wet to not do something about it. And as you've been put in charge, you decide to do something about it. You slowly and tightly come off Johnny's massive tip, making a quiet pop sound as your lips disconnect. ‘don’t take this the wrong way, sweet thing.’ Johnny quickly gets up and before you know it, he has his hand wrapped around your throat, pinning you down on the mattress. He pushes your throat into it, making your whole body sink into the soft cushion. You're wearing a skirt with cute pink lace panties beneath. His big and toned body casts a dark shadow over you as he slides your panties down your legs.

He licks his fingers and brings them to slide between your folds, assessing how wet you are. You are very much ready for him. ‘you were doing such a good job little one.’ He pushes two fingers into your sore hole. ‘but you were taking too long. Now I might have to get disrespectful’ He slides in and out of you and you arch your back and gasp. ‘stay still for me.’ He increases his speed and forces his fingers harder into you. It was already difficult to stay still a second ago, now, it's impossible. You feel his hand tighten around your throat, a warning for disobeying his command. You use all your power to stay still and you miraculously manage to stay still. ‘thats my good girl. you like that?’ his voice is so deep, you feel yourself drowning in it. ‘y-yes… johnny… m-more.’ He smirks as he looks down at you. ‘you want more? what’s the magic word sweetheart?’ He has a massive grin but his eyes are narrowed, you wonder if his victims get that same expression, you can't help but feel a small wave of jealousy wash over you. ‘p-please Johnny. I want more of you.’

He lets go of your throat and pulls his fingers out of your pussy. He licks them clean as he looks you in the eyes. You’re breathless from just watching him, causing you to bite your lips. His dick is still wet from your saliva as it hangs outside of his jeans. They’re still partially on so he pulls them completely off, leaving him fully naked. It's the perfect time of evening for the sunset to find his scar scattered body through the windows and kiss his soft skin. It's like the gods did that just for you and you send a quick thank you prayer back for providing you this perfect view. He looks so majestic in the warm sunlight. His toned body creating shadows in every crease, making his abs stand out more, his chest and his V-line pointing to his erect cock, reminding you of why you're laying there in the first place. 

He starts stroking his dick, its making wonderful sloppy sounds as his hands use your saliva to rub himself. ‘you’re all mine, aren't you?’ He starts placing himself closer to you. He slides his soft and plump tip through your folds, and over your red and swollen clit. ‘yes johnny, I'm all yours.’ He puts more pressure over your clit with his tip, pushing harder and harder. ‘oh yeah?.’ His eyes are laser focusing on how your pussy lips unfold and open up for him and he pushes himself on your clit. 'I'm all yours.’ You repeat, god, you're so weak and impatient to feel him fill you up already. 

Without any warning he pushes his cock deep inside you. You let out a loud moan, bordering on a scream as you feel how his thick cock presses up on the walls surrounding it. Johnny's dick fits you like a glove, tighter even. You were already so wet but he’s so big that it's still difficult to adjust to his size. He stays still inside you and gets closer to you with his face, placing a gentle kiss on the side of your ribs. ‘are you my princess?’ He slowly makes his way up your body. He places another kiss on top of your breast. ‘my doll?’ Another one on your collar bone. ‘my pretty girl?’ and one last one on your lips. ‘my love?’

He starts moving around inside you. Slowly sliding in and out. It starts off very subtle but the wetter you get, the more drastic his movements get. He lets out the most wonderful groan as he feels how wet you get. ‘fuckkk, you're being such a good girl, you’re taking me so well.’ He’s now pounding into you, deep but careful. His movements getting more and more erratic as you clenching around his cock is too much for him to stay gentle, which he had originally planned. Loving, gentle and passionate sex is something he cherishes a lot, especially and only with you. But the ‘Johnny’ in him loves it rough, disrespectful and intense. He pulls out briefly to place your knees over his shoulders. He gives you a quick peck on the lips as a pre-apology for how he’s gonna destroy your pussy in the coming minutes. 

He pushes his length back in and lets out a loud and animalistic grunt. This time he doesn't bother starting gently. He looks into your eyes and it's the pure hunger of a hunter. He’s the wolf and you're the helpless little bunny being in the wrong place at the wrong time, except you’re far from in the ‘wrong place’. You couldn't dream of being in a more right place. He’s drilling into you, hard and deep. It's so intense, you feel how his balls slap your ass with every deep thrust and the tip of his cock piercing your womb with every push. You feel so full of him, your heart, body, mind and soul is so full of him. You can hardly call them yours. You mean it when you say that you belong to Johnny. You really do, and you forever will. 

You moan and gasp with every thrust. The deeper pounds deserving of loud screams. Johnny does the same. His deep voice producing the sexiest noises a man could possibly make. His groans and grunts sound even better, knowing that they’re for your ears only. And that you're the one causing them. You're lucky the whole family is away and that the slaughterhouse is located in the middle of nowhere. You're convinced your screams could be heard from miles away.

‘i know baby, i know.’ But he makes no attempt at slowing down. ‘fucckk darlin. the things you do to me.’ He gets close to your face and gives you a sloppy kiss. His tongue explores the inside of your mouth and you can hardly kiss him back. Only being able to give him whines.

‘j-johnny… i-m gonna c-cum pl-please.’ You feel how you’ve been fucked all the way dumb, you can barely speak and your ability to think was gone long ago. ‘hold it for me pretty girl, just a little longer.’ He speaks with such sweetness, you wouldn't think he was inside of you, rearranging your guts, almost killing you with the force of every thrust he pushes into you. 

It's impossible to ask that of you, to ‘hold it a little while longer’. You cum on his cock but you try hiding it behind your expression and suppress your moans as much as you can.

‘did you cum?’ Johnny immediately knows and you wonder if he's a wizard. ‘...no.’ You lie, decently convincing if you say so yourself. ‘silly girl, I feel how you’re pulsating and clenching around my cock right now.’ He stays still inside you but is looking deep in your eyes waiting for a response. ‘i-i’m sorry johnny. I couldn't do it.’ You look up at him with the biggest and sweetest puppy eyes you can possibly give. They usually work… usually. By the look he’s giving you right now, you know this isn't one of those usual times. 

‘of course you could do it, if you needed help, you should've told me. what have I said about us using our words?’ His voice is so deep and masculine, it makes your whole body shiver to be on the receiving end of his scolding. ‘i-i know johnny, im s-sorry.’ Your voice is weak, partially because of how he’s scolding you, and partially cause he’s fully fucked your brains out so that your whole body is just jelly. ‘that's not enough sweet thing. I'm gonna have to teach you a thing or two.’ 

He shoves his dick back into your pussy and the overstimulation feels like it could actually kill you. You just came and everything is sore and sensitive. From your walls, to your clit, your entire hole. Your poor tight and abused little pussy. It's too much. ‘j-johnny!!!’ You scream as loud as you can with the limited amount of oxygen in your lungs. ‘shhh my love, it’s almost over. Remember this feeling next time you try being slick.’ He somehow increases his speed and force, you thought he was already at his peak but the man is a tank, there is always more to come. ‘fucckkk princess, you want me to cum in this tight little pussy? hmm?’ He’s breathless from fucking you so hard. ‘do you sweetheart?’ You can tell he’s only seconds away, and fuck, you can’t wait. ‘y-yes johnny. please cum inside me.’ Right as you finish your sentence, you feel his hot cum fill you up. It shoots far and deep inside of you. His pretty and white cum mixing with yours and spilling out of your abused cunt.

You shake and flinch as he pulls out. Johnny takes notice of your sudden movements and brings his right hand to cup your face, making a U shape with his hand. ‘my sweet angel… did mean ol’ johnny go to far?’ He has a sweet but mocking tone in his voice. You slowly nod your head… he didn't go too far, he could never. He’s insanely good at reading you but you would be a liar if you said it wasn't intense and overstimulating. ‘come here sweetheart. Show me where it hurts and I'll make it go away.’ He grabs your hand and singles out your index finger to hold it in front of you. You bring your hand to your pussy to point at it. He chuckles and you see his dick jerk a little. ‘alright pretty girl.’ 

He spreads your legs and places his face between them. You gasp and you fear what he’s about to do next. He's actually gonna be the death of you. Tonight, right now, right here. You flinch when you feel cool air being blown on your wet cunt. He’s blowing at the entire area around your abused pussy and as much as it feels different, there is actually a very relieving feeling. Your Johnny always knows how to make everything better. He spreads your lips and continues blowing. It feels way cooler and more intense this way. This time, you also feel it on your clit, everything cooling down and a big wave of relief hits you. Before he comes back up, he gives your pussy a little kiss as a sorry for what he put her through. If she could talk, all she would say is thank you, for everything, all of it. 

He comes back up and gives you a kiss on the forehead. 'Better?' He asks curiously. 'Better.' You answer confidently. He lays down next to you and pulls you in for a hug. He holds you in his big embrace. His arms, big and strong, not a thing in the world could hurt you when Johnny is around. You love him so much it hurts. He gives you more kisses, covering your forehead as he holds you, letting his hands travel all over your body. You feel whole… safe and loved as you drift into a deep sleep in Johnny’s arms. 

♡link♡

credit for dividers: @anitalenia @v6que <3

[kentoxo]

ravish | reader(f) x bf!yuji

pairing: reader(f) x bf!yuji (aged up)

synopsis: after days being gone for a mission, yuji comes home and loves on your body, particularly your mouth

warning(s): face fucking

a/n: just a small thang. to those who have sent asks, im working on them! school/work drains me but ive been making progress in all of them, i swear xo also do we prefer proper capitalization or all lower case writings? just tryna gage based on other smut ive seen.

It was a mystery to recall how you ended up in this predicament.

Your pink-haired lover had you stripped, the entirety of your body exposed before him. Your back was pressed against the cold wall of your bedroom, with your knees digging down against the beige carpet. And before you was your lover, your beloved curse user. And his painfully hard cock.

You couldn't hold contact with his eyes, but whenever you did leave sight of his tantalizing limb, you'd be met with dark, hungry eyes. Those jade orbs had you in a chokehold, especially with how many days its gone without looking at you. You could tell Yuji was preparing to pounce you, as his pensive expression worsened the small pool developing in your flower. He was admiring you, as it has been a week since he couldn't.

"you're so beautiful, m'love," he murmurs quietly. "how is my girlfriend this beautiful?" You shake your head shyly, unable to accept his compliments. But your face goes crimson when his toothy grin disappears, and his lips straighten. "m'gonna show you how beautiful you are..."

Gently, Yuji puts one of his hands on the back of your head, cushioning it against the hard wall behind you. With the other hand, he holds his twitchy cock and looks down at you adoringly. "let me in, love." Obediently, your lips separate.

"Good girl," he whispers before completely filling your mouth. He doesn't ease it in, his tip quickly reacquainting itself with the back of your throat. Tears well up in your eyes, your breathing comes unsteady. Muscular thighs and toned abs fill your blurred view as the taste of salt dragged along your tongue. Squelches from your salivating mouth supplemented the silence alongside Yuji's satisfying grunts. "you... take my cock so well, pretty girl. god, mmph, i missed you and this pretty little mouth of yours."

His member slid in and out of you with ease, his cock shining gloriously from your saliva. You could feel your honey spill from your flower, your cunt eagerly waiting its turn. You could barely breathe now, relying on your nose to keep you going. Albeit this fact, you didn't want Yuji to stop. You wanted him to use you as he so desired. To be loved and ravished by him.

"babygirl, your mouth feels... so fucking, ah good-!" He proceeds to go faster, his balls slapping your chin with each thrust. You moan around his cock, which earns you a throaty string of curses from your insatiable partner. "more... god, i want more."

He then grabs you by the base of your ponytail, pulling you away from the wall. With both hands to the sides of your head, he continues to face fuck you. His hands guide you, bobbing your head up and down his desperate shaft. Your thoughts were fucked empty, you could no longer think. All you knew was this cock, and nothing more.

"your mouth is so fucking hot, y/n, holy shit," he praises through grunts. Your chin began dripping with saliva, your hands holding onto his thighs in struggle. He chuckled at your nails digging into his legs, knowing you were reaching your limit. You could feel his veins shape into your cheeks, and on your tongue. "i'll fuck you as soon as you get me to cum in your mouth. help me out, will ya?"

You finally hollow your cheeks, your mouth completely coating his cock. Yuji hisses in ecstasy, his hands moving your head just a bit faster. His tip keeps hitting the back of your throat, now causing you to swallow each time. He feels the walls of your throat close, wanting nothing more than to shoot cum right down it. "baby, i'm gonna cum..." He warns you, sweat beginning to bead on his abs.

You hum around his cock in affirmation. He chuckles again before looking up, profanities jumping from his tongue. With one final thrust, he forces his entire shaft into your mouth, part of it housed in your throat. Your eyes widen when you felt his hot load burst and roll down into your throat. Your eyes itched from tears, and you kept gagging on his cock. He was so big, you couldn't handle it. It's only been a week, and your mouth was virgin to his length.

He pulls out slowly, with his tip bouncing off your bottom lip. "come," Yuji's warm smile welcomes you, with two hands being offered to you. You take his hands and rise, your knees burning from the carpet. "you did so good for me, baby," he murmurs, his index and thumb holding your wet chin. Your lips were pink and tender from his relief, and he quickly mends them with a passionate kiss. Calloused hands find their way to your ass, his fingers teasing your pussy a bit with precum ornate on his tips. "looks like your ready for me, baby."

You nod your head shyly, unable to get the words out. Yuji chuckles, a toothy smile illuminating your world. With a kiss on your head, he lowers himself to one of your ears. "since you sucked me off so well, i'm gonna fuck you until the sun comes up. does that sound like a plan, princess?"

[sunny-ssunset]

Honest south park dating headcanons🔥💯

dividers by pinterest

Masterlist!

♡Im writing so much bc i literally have nothing else to do so enjoy 🔥🔥🔥🔥💯💯💯💯

♡Anyways honest headcanons about how i think the main 4 would act in a relationship with you (all aged up) mostly gender neutral but there is like mentions of boobies :)

TW Mentions of s*x, dr*gs and v*mit

Stan

•Honestly you wouldnt have to put much effort in to get with him

•Mother fuckers desprate for love

•Hes actually a bit of a wreck once you date him

•Crying because he is scared you'll leave him

•You are defo a rebound

•To be fair he'd start to fall for you though

•And because of that he'd throw up all over you

•He'd break up with you if wendy said she missed him

•In his eyes theres always someone better

•And im sorry but he moves on fast

•If wendy breaks up with him again though

•Expect a drunk call at 3 am saying how much he misses you and how he fucked up and if you can get back together

•Its your choice if you get back with him though lmao

Kyle

•He is extremely awkward

•Kyle has high ass standards so when he sees someone that meets those standards he'll fall hard

•This man cannot talk to people he likes

•If he doesnt like you he is the rizziest rizzler ever

•And 0 rizz if he does lmao

•He'd start SWEATING

•He would be stumpted for words

•Then when you leave he'd blame someone else for 'fucking up his chance'

•If however you did start dating him (god knows how)

•He'll probably dump you over the smallest thing

•If you vape or smoke though its a big no no

•And like you would argue over the smallest thing

•He'd rant and rant and rant and rant about something cartman did that day

•Probably would put work or school before you

•He forgets your his s/o sometimes

•He'll treat you like a therapist

•However he is really fucking good in bed 😩😏

Cartman

•This man would always be looking out for no. 1

•Genuinely would not give a fuck about you until you show any value to him

•Kyle has a s/o? DAMN GUESS WHO ALSO HAS ONE NOW

•Always trying to prove he is better than everyone else (especially kyle)

•He listens to alpha male podcasts

•Andrew tate supporter

•To be honest despite him also being plus sized

•He wont date someone who is also plus sized

•Its because andrew tate said he can do better

•He is delusional and doesnt believe you when you say he is fat

•Its apparently just baby fat

•He would let you in on his schemes and let you tag along but would also throw you under the bus and say it was all your idea if he gets caught

•Manipulative as fuck

•Would get pissy if you said no to anything he asks you

•He'd leave you because "He can do better"

Kenny

•He fucking stinks

•Its either he'll stink of zaza or just plain stinkyness

•He like never showers even when he had the opportunity to

•He'll have a huge crush on you and you'll find out through other kids

•Cartman probably spread it around

•He'll always be staring at your boobs or ass

•Says word like "GYATT DAMN" "WHAT THE SIGMA"

•He doesnt have tiktok only youtube shorts

•Has a shitty cracked iphone 6 in rose gold with no case

•He'll be very loyal like he would never get with someone else

•However always staring at someone elses boobs or ass if not yours

•Will compare you to 'attractive celebrities'

•Hes done many many dr*gs

•Him and his mates probably made a list of all the hottest people in the school (god knows where you are on it)

•He has no rizz at all because hes extremely shy

•Probably only got with you bc of how big your gyatt was

•Hes always really h*rny

dividers by @k1ssyoursister

[littleocean-rose]

Dry Humping with San

tags: smut, dry humping, mention of pillow humping, san is just a tad whiny, embarrassed san, one mention of a creampie kink. word count: 1.2k

! minors do not interact !

A/N: i mostly write this at work asldkfj it was just an idea that popped into my head and i figured i might as well put it out here

You never knew how much San was into dry humping until last month. It was when you realized how he came much faster when he was grinding against you, still clothed, that it dawned on you. Not that it ever messed with his libido—the man could come six to seven times before he started having dry orgasms which, honestly, was amazing. (Especially since it highly appealed to your creampie kink.)

In fact, you thought it was kind of hot that he’d do that. There was something about San being so turned on and needy for you that he couldn’t wait to even take his pants or boxers off that just got you hot and bothered. He made you feel wanted; he looked at you as if you were Aphrodite herself through half-lidded eyes as he came down from his high, hissing at the slight oversensitivity as his cock dragged against the fabric of his clothes.

Which was why, today, you were going to bring it up with San.

Currently he was grinding against you, hands squeezing your hips as he rutted against your pelvis, quiet moans falling from his lips between the kisses he’d place along your jaw. “Fuck, baby, ‘m gonna come.”

Your hand came up, resting against the back of his neck as you hummed. “Then come, Sannie.” As if he’d been waiting for your approval, your words pushed him over the edge. Heat pooled in your stomach at hearing his breathy moans, taking in the way his body twitched as the front of his pajamas soaked in his ropes of cum, his grip on your hips tightening as he rode out his high.

Soon his lips were on yours, his kiss full of hunger and passion, a sure sign he wanted to continue this in the bedroom. “Mm, god, can’t wait to be inside you.” His words sent a shiver down your spine, cunt clenching in anticipation, but you knew that wouldn’t happen until later.

You let him guide you to the bed, but instead of laying down, you motioned for him to take a seat. He didn’t say anything, simply raising an eyebrow before sitting down, reaching out to pull you into his lap. You straddled him, pulling him for another kiss before you put your plan into motion.

You rolled your hips against his already half-hard cock, earning a muffled groan from your boyfriend. His hands made their way to your ass, kneading the soft flesh through your pajama shorts, helping you along with grinding against him. He pressed more kisses along your neck, nipping at your collarbone and shoulder, leaving his little love marks anywhere he could, knowing you’d love to look at them the next morning in the mirror.

You both kept it up until San was as hard as he was earlier, and he had to grab your hips with a gasp to stop your ministrations. “Babe, if you keep that up I’m gonna come again.”

“Good,” you whispered in his ear, nipping his earlobe, pulling his hands away from your hips and putting them back on your ass. “I want to see you make an absolute mess of your pants.” You could feel his cock twitch against your clothed core, and you couldn’t help the smirk that made its way onto your face. “Oh? Did you like that idea, Sannie? Does it feel good?”

“F-Feels so good, yeah,” he panted, his breath warming your skin.

“Hm. Even better than my pussy?”

“No!” San’s head shot up, dilated eyes boring into yours. “Never better than your pussy. A-Ah! Nothing beats that. Nothing.” Pleased by his answer, you ground harder against his cock. San buried his face against your neck, cute little whines and moans muffled against your skin. “‘Gonna—hah, fuck! ‘G’nna come ag—y/n I’m–!”

You could feel his cock twitch as he came for the second time, watching with hunger as his pajamas turned even darker, the urge to run your bare cunt over the outline of his cock oh so tempting. Maybe later, you thought, watching your boyfriend struggle to catch his breath as you pulled the fabric of his pants tight against the head of his cock, watching as a single rope of cum managed to shoot through the thin material and land on his shirt. You groaned at the sight, thumb running over the sensitive head, and San gave a whine, pulling your hand away as his breathing calmed.

You pulled him in for a kiss before he buried his face in your neck, letting you rub your hands across his back in a soothing manner.

“If you were so into dry humping, why didn’t you tell me?” Your fingers carded through his soft hair, and San couldn’t bring himself to look up you.

“I don’t know. It was kind of embarrassing, and I didn’t want you to laugh at me…” You pushed at his shoulders, forcing him to remove his face from your neck. Cupping his cheeks, his eyes finally met yours, a little pout on his lips as his cheeks burned red.

“San, my love, you know I’d never laugh at something you like. If it brings you pleasure, please, let me know. I trust you with my kinks, even the ones I’m embarrassed by, so please.” Your thumb caressed the heated skin of his cheeks, and you leaned in to give him a soft, chaste kiss. “Please never be afraid to tell me the things you like, okay?”

San’s voice was soft when he finally spoke. “I will. I’m sorry for not telling you.”

You shook your head, offering him a smile. “It’s fine, I understand where you were coming from.”

He pressed a kiss to your lips, pulling you back into a hug as he nuzzled your neck like a cat, making you giggle. “I’m so lucky to have you. I love you. So, so much.”

“I love you, too, San.” A comfortable silence fell between the two of you as you basked in each other’s presence, holding each other close. A moment later you cleared your throat. “So you’re also into humping pillows?”

San let out a loud embarrassed whine, burying his face further into your neck. “How did you know about that?”

You couldn’t help but giggle, finding his reaction cute. “I came home early once and peeked in on you in the bedroom. I didn’t announce myself because I figured you’d be embarrassed, but fuck if it wasn’t hot watching you do that.”

A moment of silence. Then, a quiet “You really thought that was hot?”

“Mhm, real hot, Sannie. I’m into dry humping, too.” You grinned. “Though, maybe not as much as are,” you teased. San pouted, gently shoving your shoulder and making you laugh. “I mean it, though. You ever send me a video of you fucking a pillow and who knows, maybe I’ll leave work in a heartbeat to come home.”

"Oh?" San's lips pulled into a smirk, and it sent heat right down to your core. “Is that a promise~?”

“Absolutely shameless,” you smiled, shaking your head. “But can we maybe, ah, continue where we left off? My panties are soaked and I’m dying to have your cock inside me.”

San nodded enthusiastically, pulling you in for a kiss as he laid you down on the bed. “Of course, my love. And again, thank you. For everything.”

You cupped his cheeks once more, looking up at him with so much love and adoration. “Of course, Sannie. Anything for you.”

A/N: nobody look at me-

[spaloonbabooguuscooties]

You could drink your whole life away and still never get that taste out of your mouth.

half commission for @salempie half completely self indulgent dreck pieced together from our insane conversations abt franke and elka. told myself id finally write a big explanation for all of the dum shit between these two for context so Thats Under The Cut.

so I already wrote some stuff about elka and franke's relationship back in whispering rock so feel free to look at that too . it goes over elkas blindness/‘seeing’ with clairvoyance and how her and franke started talking & all that good stuff

SO FOR STARTERS. a lot of thsi wont make sense without a big breakdown of elka herself. because elkas potential as a character is like insane to me. like just the idea of her in the long run of her life reads as something so potentially tragic; a young girl whos plagued with visions of doom and destined to be an outcast even in her own home for things she cant control and clings to the One vision of her wedding that she thinks is 'happy' even despite the fact she doesnt really love the person in it. im choosing to take the li-po doc as canon here because its funny shes the only one with backstory-

but my fucking god even the smallest look into what her parents are like is soo fucked up to me. and i do think elka especially gets a lot of influence from her mother; its funny how easily you can fit mabel doom into a box just from what elka says about her. knees deep in an avon-esque pyramid scheme and leaning into her daughters depressing ass visions & taking her to therapy at age 11 (which would be good if not for the kind of person you can already assume she is & so i doubt the therapist she has really does her any good. i think they share one). she reads as a very I Am My Daughters Best Friend type of mom to me and i can see elka being a centerpiece of the conversation when she has her Amway Girls over for drinks. wine-mom that lets her kid sip from the glass so she can feel like a big girl type deal.

and you can tell that elka is trying to hard to be too mature for her age even in her campster posts. how she writes letters to nils' mom and exchanges baking recipes with her and that feels like she really only interacts with middle aged women and not really many people her own age outside of camp (like her moms friends). which makes sense shed feel the need to ‘grow up’ early when shes probably had to process so many hard things at a young age bc of her visions.

theres a lot of filling the blanks here of course.

elka obsesses over nils to an overbearing degree even despite the fact he treats her like shit ('you promised no talking' and so on) and she treats him bad right back. she leans onto stereotypical heterosexual ideals like taking care of him and overblowing how Manly and Protective JT is and she admires romance stories like pride and prejudice and it feels like she Projects Soooooooo much of what she wants onto boys she barely feels anything for without knowing what its actually supposed to feel like. and clearly she WANTS that ideal future, a happy marriage, an actual romance- but according to nils even when they were dating she ignored him most of the time, which just seems Very Telling

like shes filling a role, overcompensating for emotions and lacktherof she cant digest quite yet, and it only makes more sense when you know shes had visions of their future together. how could that be bad for her? shouldnt it be like the books and movies? but she doesnt really connect the fact that her visions are only for Doomed futures, and if she does she certainly doesnt show it. Doomed relationships. it's been a part of her family for generations and she isn't turning out much different, is she? i dont think she even realizes thats all she ever sees yet, just that its Going to happen. that it's Her future, and it always will be

and like, her only reference for a real marriage so far has been her own parents, and she already Knows they have an affair, and theyre doomed to split, (and i actually like to think they were in rough waters anyway and elka was a child meant to mend a crumbling marriage but thats a whole other thing) and so without a framework for what an actual healthy relationship is supposed to be like she cant really grasp that her relationship with nils Isnt that and isnt ever going to be. she can only cling to this one happy idea of the future, and thats why she keeps chasing him, self fulfilling the actuality of her situation and creating and fostering the unhappy life they will inevitably live together.

and that bleeds into everything else in her life, of course, because as the years go on, as the visions grow in number it just makes sense for her to fall into the predictability of her life. she always knows whats going to happen, her visions are Never wrong- so why try to change things? shes had time to process tragedies days, weeks, months, years before they happen, shes had time to settle into every crack of her life. her parents divorce, her various break ups, her future with the psychonauts.

“and she's already seen so much of a future with [nils] she feels trapped almost. Like she has to be happy in it or else it just means her life is miserable. And it's a mixture of pride and fear of the unknown that keeps her clinging to the One thing she knows. BUT LIKE!!! She knows what's gonna happen! It's easier to grieve when she's been grieving for years... She wants so badly to be happy, But to do that she has to step into the unfamiliar. And that's more terrifying than staying the same miserable person she's always been.”

and thats where franke comes in— and yeah you Do have to take a lot of liberties for frankes character since it’s basically, like, all the info for her is just that shes a Supreme Baby Dyke but thats enough for me. i think she has protective butch itch in her . on campster shes defensive over other women evidenced in the way she keeps watch over the girls cabins for lili when elton is pursuing her . but shes also eager to please and constantly trying to make kitty laugh and also Very naive. but she tries! and i think it only solidifies more as she gets Older and really gets a hold of her feelings & her powers. this is incredibly franke to me

and i think as they grow older together— because i think franke and elka Do stay friends, both because elka is just pathetic and needs that positive connection even if she doesnt realize it and because i think franke is a very Loyal person & annoyingly persistent if you let her be . and i am also a kitty/franke truther. because kittys also important in this web we weave

because i think franke and kitty stay together after camp, to a point— theres a falling out facilitated on kittys end and they break up, but reconnect, and franke kind of... saves kitty from herself a little, from her strict military father whos love only extends thru finances , from her own stifling future , she drives all the way to bakersville in her shitty van handmedowned from her dad and they move in together eventually . they get jobs at the motherlobe , because it’s a pipeline to a decent job, because it’s whats easy, because franke doesn’t really have a future, because she’s never really been good at much, because shes never had much sense, because franke doesnt really care as long as she can live and help, sometimes, if she can, and because kitty’s there, and because elka’s there, and shes so used to being elkas eyes now and shes good at it. shes good at being the muscle of the missions when her colleagues lack it, when hypnosis and predictions arent enough. she likes it that way.

and elka appreciates frankes company. she listens, shes sweet, she does little things for her that no ones ever really put the effort for before; she likes her. franke is strong and bold and makes her laugh and shes always there but god elka cant let go of that future, of that box shes put herself in, that her mothers put her in, of being a Good Wife to a Loving Husband, of getting married normally and falling into unfailing familiarity. thats all shes ever wanted and shes not going to jeopardize that . not for franke, who may not be a boy but is handsome like one, whos always held her after every break up with nils and the men that filled empty days inbetween.

and elka is too stubborn to recognize those feelings anyway. too prideful to accept a way out. too set in her cycle no matter how much she hates it, her little self fulfilling tragedy of her own making, wallowing in her own doom. she struggles for control of her own life when she feels like every choice has been made for her anyway, she puts up her walls and carefully constructs what people see. but franke was always harder to trick, because while empathy isnt a particularly useful psychic power it’s certainly an inconvenient one. all franke has to do is get too close and all those carefully crafted walls fall apart, and elkas control is gone, and thats all she really has. and she tries to distance herself, really she does, but franke is also too persistent. and elka wears gloves, keeps contact that would make her walls crumble from happening as best as she can, but she cant really keep herself from the brief moments where she feels like someone actually fucking cares about her.

and that slightest lack of control, the need to wrestle it back is why she proposes to nils the next time theres a falling out— she knows how it happens, she plans every detail. and he accepts, despite everything. gets her a cheap ring and it feels like lead on her finger and its nothing at all like how shed thought it to be when she was a kid, theres no feather light feeling in her chest, only that dreadful reality that she cant turn this back. BUT WHAT CAN U DO LMAO

elka doesnt tell franke about this engagement until later, on their way back from a mission. late at night when neither of them can sleep, and franke invites elka to smoke in her van, because its been so long since theyve been alone like that, because elkas been so strangely absent lately. and because of everything, because frankes always so damn nice, because elka hates the feel of the ring on her finger, because she let herself get high alone with franke fucking athens whos always been so good at pulling her apart— the truth of it all spills out and its messy and emotional and she hates it, she hates the life shes made for herself, but franke makes it easier to bare and now shes here and shes so close and god she wishes she could see her smile again, she wishes she could see franke, thats all she needs right now and she cant but she can touch her and she can hold her and for tonight, she can be known, she can let those walls crumble, she can be something else just for once here with franke . she can kiss her here in this van, touch that happiness for just a moment, and forget the future that waits for her outside of it. franke begs her to forget the wedding, to just let herself be happy— and god, she wants to, but it means turning her back on everything shes known and everything shes saw to be inevitable, and franke has never been in her future, so if it were supposed to work out why hadnt she seen it and she cant, she cant take that risk but she can have this, even if its temporary, she can have it.

and just as soon as she gets a taste of it, its gone. after that night, after the missions over and theyre back at the motherlobe and have to pretend like nothing happened (franke doesnt, of course she tells kitty about it, she tells kitty about everything.) but that brief moment together haunts elka every time she sees franke, sees herself through frankes eyes, sees herself in her wedding dress because god its all franke can think about! of course it is! she knows how much elkas destroying herself she knows how much misery shes wallowing in that kiss in the van felt like an emotional punch to the teeth and she hasnt ever forgotten it and all she can do is sit and watch while elka throws herself into a loveless marriage. she can come to her wedding and see the way the bride and groom kiss with the emotional weight of a wet towel no matter how hard elka tries to hide it under a pretty dress and bouquets of flowers and meticulous planning.

and elka resents nils but she cant really hate him, its not his fault, not really. he feels trapped just like she does and his feelings of misery only cycle back into hers . they fight and gnash and wear away at each other and its a relationship thats crashed and burned a million times before elka even said i do. and its inevitable that she falls into her mothers habits, a sip of wine here and there to loosen up, until it turns to a glass, until it falls into a bottle on nights when whatever work nils does runs late.

but franke’s still there. shes always been there, hasn’t she? always trying to play knight, always trying to save her, dragging her home when shes stumbling over herself because god who else is going to do it but her? who else is left to care? certainly not nils. never nils. because franke knows her. because franke pities her. shes always pitied her. shes always known. and elka hates it, she resents it, but god in the same breath she’s desperate for it, she envies it to her very bones. elka is a mess but after frankes done with her she has someone to go back to that loves her. and god what elka wouldnt do to have that. to take it and keep it for herself because shes never ever got to have that movie romance shes always wanted.

so now comes this.

because elkas particularly miserable and particularly spiteful and she needs to get franke to understand, just for a moment, drink with her and get on her level and she needs her there with her no matter how her pity makes her feel. no matter how much it makes her shake with anger and envy and desperation, but god the way franke looks at her, the way she still tries to salvage what they have, the soft, slurred way she tells her that it’s okay but its not okay, none of this is okay, it never has been and she just wants franke to shut up and see that, and if she cant then she’ll show her, she’ll show her all the raw angry desperation, with too much teeth and hands that claw and grab and she’ll know why everyones always said she’s too much.

and she knows this puts her on nils’ level too. that this makes her a cheater, that shes no better than he is now. no better than her father and his affair. but god, she wants to be selfish. she wants to be in control. just for once. she wants to feel right and she wants to feel happy and she wants to feel loved. thats all shes ever wanted. and franke will let her have that, just for a little while, at the very least.

anyway. sorry. sorry for being crazy . this isnt even getting into the shit after the comic takes place . elkas stupid brainworld thag she has to overcome in order to finally be allowed in the polycule and live happily ever as worlds first lesbian divorceman

sorry for all the shit i make up instead of caring about actual characters with screentime . bye !

[savannahsdeath]

TEACHER!ELLIE WILLIAMS X STUDENT!READER

PART 1ONE

part 2two

mdni please<3

summary: you stay with your teacher - ellie because youre sure she didnt grade your exam correctly. she turns out to be easy to spend time with, even though youre her student

warnings: 18+ please!!

writers note: calling ellie 'miss williams' kinda cringes me but ig thats how it is.. before yall attack me or smthn reader is not a minor so its all legal also i imagine this is like the last grade of highschool?? i dont know what age it is in usa since im polish and yeah it would be legal for us but maybe not in america so idk😭😭

Ellie Williams was a teacher in your college, most students' favourite. She wasn't boring or too strict although she was serious about her lessons and she always made sure everyone listens. The point is, everyone wanted to listen.

You loved how passionate she is about her job. You could tell sharing her knowledge with next generations makes her proud. The rest of the students mostly liked her for her looks. She was attractive, even for you, especially when she was looking at you from under her glasses. Oh, god, her glasses... And the way she adjusts them with her slim fingers... Yes, she was definitely attractive. And pretty young, as for a teacher. But the way all of those stupid frat boys made clearly sexual comments about her was making you want to throw up.

You never missed her lessons and you were her best student. You could tell she appreciates the way you look honestly interested in her lessons. That's why you were surprised when you suddenly got a D from an assignment.

You stayed after class to talk with her about it. Something was off. You stayed the whole night to do it, with blood, sweat and tears.

You found her in her office, reading some papers. After saying simple 'good afternoon' you sat in a chair in front of her desk. She dropped the papers that turned out to be your assignment.

"I was just about to talk to you." She sternly said, not looking in your direction. "Why are you helping him?"

You had no idea what she's talking about, so you stayed quiet, letting her talk.

"You've always been so responsible - straight A's, making the presentations in time. Did he pay you? Be honest, I won't report it anywhere. Luke wouldn't do that himself."

You frowned. "I'm sorry, I don't understand. What does Luke has to do with this?"

Luke was your talking stage. You weren't interested in him but he was in you and that's it. Your opinion didn't matter. He was popular and you wanted to have good reputation so you allowed him to do... whatever.

Miss Williams showed you two papers. One was yours, the other... based on the handwriting - Luke's.

"Look at the signatures." She ordered. "How did it happen? No bullshit."

They were swapped. Luke's work, graded for a D, had your name on it.

"That's an interesting word to use for a teacher. Umm... Yeah, I don't..." You started stuttering, not knowing what to say. You often helped him out but not this time.

"Just admit you helped him and I'll give you your A. Easy as that." She finally looked up at you. Her glasses reflected the light in a way that made it hard to look her in the eyes, so you wasn't able to tell what she's thinking. Was she judging you or are you just paranoid?

"I told him to give you my assignment since he was staying in your class longer, I swear, I didn't-" You sighed. "He had to... How could he..." You continued mumbling.

"Sh, shh... I can tell it's your handwriting. I just thought you did it on purpose." She said in a reassuring voice.

"Will he have any problems? It's not a big deal, so if we could just..." You looked at her with your doe eyes, nervously biting your bottom lip. The way she was looking at you made you understand why were the other students all over her. You took a deep breath, trying to gather your mind, embarrased you even thought about her in a... romantic... way.

"Okay, my dear. Here's your well earned A." She showed you a new copy of the assignment with an A grade written at the top. You also notice her fingers slightly grazing your hand as she does so. the same fingers you used to imagine touching you in such an intimate way "Now, if it's not a big secret, why are you even worried about Luke? For him, a better grade is more important than you. But if you really like him, I may group you both together in the next presentation."

"No, I don't, it's not that..." You quickly explained. "It's just... I don't even know. He's just everywhere I go."

You could tell something was off when Miss Williams mentioned Luke. She never did speak poorly about any of your classmates, not even once - it's simply unprofessional. But, this time, she seemed irritated, perhaps even annoyed.

"I'm glad to hear that, he's no good for you. He obviously wants more than an assignment swap." She put all of the papers back into her file. Suddenly, she leaned in towards you. Not too close, but way closer than she was before. "You look nervous."

"I am." You admitted quietly. Your heart starts beating fast. She's never been this close before. You both met after classes before and she was friendly, sure, but never this... interested. She made it to the point you didn't saw her as a professor anymore, just a woman, maybe even potential... girlfriend.

"I can help you with that stress if you'd like." She says, her voice barely above a whisper.

You couldn't resist her. She leans in closer, until your faces are so close together that your breaths become one and if it wasn't for the desk, your bodies would be pressed together. The moment she touches your cheek, you can't resist anymore and kiss her back. She takes your hands and presses them against the back of her head, pulling you closer as she deepen the kiss.

You never felt this way before. This doesn't feel wrong, it's... exciting. She's exciting.

You hear a faint sound from outside. Someone trying to open the door.

Miss Williams quickly straightens up: she straightens her clothes, fixes her hair, and picks up her papers. Then, with a deep breath, she answers the knock.

"Hello... Can I help you?" She opens the door.

It's Luke, standing there with a wide smile on his face.

"Luke? What are you doing here?" Your eyes flicked from Luke to the teacher and back again, not understanding what's happening.

"I just realized I forgot my bag at class today, so I dropped by to pick it up. But I see you have company." He looks at you and gives you a subtle wink.

"Oh, don't worry. I was just giving her assignment back an A. The A she deserves." She says with a nervous laugh.

"Yeah, exactly, Luke. I know you swapped our assignments." Your eyes lingered at him for longer this time, as you saw he knows something so you tried changing the topic to more formal one.

"I... uhh... no, I didn't do that." He replies nervously, his tone and body language giving him away.

Miss Williams looks at you with an expression that conveys "I can't believe this is happening."

You continue; "Look, Miss Williams found our assignments mixed up. Mine... with your D grade on it... and yours, with my A on it."

Luke shifts uncomfortably, realizing he's been found out. "Oh... well... I guess I'll just be on my way then." He says awkwardly.

"Just take your bag and go before I change my mind and not be so nice." Your teacher said, making eye contact with you instead of him.

Luke quickly grabs his bag and scurries away.

Miss Williams sighs and closes the door. "What a little... trouble maker." She says with a smile. She walks towards you and stands in front of you, facing you directly. "I hope he didn't bother you too much." She says softly, her tone carrying a slight flirty vibe.

You smile and shake your head, even though the truth is he did.

"You should go now, I don't want your parents worrying. Visit me here from time to time though, 'kay?" She smirks, stroking your hair.

"Yes, ma'am." You reply, trying to be playful but failing in your nervousness. "I will... umm... see you at class tomorrow."

"I'll be looking forward to it." She replies, a grin on her face as she stares deep into your eyes.

As you leave, you try to remain composed, but you're melting inside.

[thisisaname-whatahappyname]

sushi soucy did not need to pop off this hard ive been in shambles for two days now

[olderthannetfic]

How do you feel about the different styles of writing POVs?

Personally, first person is the most awkward to write and the most restrictive. It definitely has its place though, when the narrative lends itself to releasing limited info. I can’t bring myself to write in first person though, it feels so weird. I think I enjoy a level of detachment when reading and writing fiction.

I’ve seen people rag on second person but I find it the easiest to read, it seems more natural than say, first person. You’re understanding the narrator but you’re not physically in their shoes. You’re a silent observer, privy to character thoughts but also able to detach and view them as a whole. There’s a level of intimacy with the character but more detachment than first person.

Okay so google says third person can be split into two; limited and omniscient.

I find omniscient to be a funny beast, as it’s not a style that I write, often finding that if I give away what everyone was thinking, all the time, the element of mystery is lost. For me, it feels like showing everyone’s inner thoughts or motivations at the same time ruins the suspense, at least in the fiction I write. I think that’s a personal failing though because I enjoy reading fiction with omniscient POV.

Limited, I’d like to say, is more within my wheelhouse, but I have been known to switch character POV in different chapters. I wonder if by switching characters per chapter that actually means I write omniscient. Anyway.

I feel like I’m write in some weird, secondary-third person which feels very much like playing with dolls: X mutters quietly, stepping close to Y. Y responds with a remark, grasping X’s hand. X is overwhelmed, their thoughts racing. Etc.

Very reductive, but you get the point. One persons intentions are clear, the other is not.

I’m troubled as I think that my writing style comes across as unnatural, almost robotic. I find it hard to step into the mind of another person, especially if it’s a creation of not my making - how could I possibly know how this character would react in this situation? I can only guess and hope it reads as in-character. As such, I often find that I don’t spend a lot of time expanding on how characters feel and their inner thoughts on situations, which seems like a really big oversight! It’s difficult for me, though.

Do you have any tips or assurances about this kind of thing?

I apologise as well, brevity is not a strength of mine.

--

Oh god... the things I want to say, nonnie...!

I've promised myself no more really long writing meta on here. I write that stuff for my patreon, which I should be spending more time on.

The short version is: I loathe second person due to early exposure to CYOA books and just finding it clunky and mannered.

First makes it more obvious if your command of character voice is ass, but it's not actually more intimate or harder than limited third.

Limited third is often the most neutral and transparent of voices for English language popular fiction in modern times. It's the norm. It's what has all the conventions built up. Switching chapter by chapter is very common and is not omniscient in any sense, WTF, anon.

Omniscient makes more sense if you've been reading works that are actually in it. Golden Age mystery novels are a good example. No, it does not list every thought of every character. What? No good writing does that. Of course you withhold info.

What does "secondary third person" mean here?

[quitealotofsodapop]

Diet peach soup would probably have the celestials and Marshalls get involved a lot sooner. Overpowered babies are not a good idea to leave unsupervised. As for Macaque, the lady bone demon is most likely going to just shove him onto the thrall, as his problem. Either to be raised as her soldier, or as a potential backup vessel.

Prev.

Yeeeaah the Stalwarts have to get involved sooner than later since their king is now in his terrible twos (again). They present themselves to Pigsy and Tang as village elders who want to help them in raising the boys, and introducing them to their culture. Pigsy was eh on the idea, but Tang was uber excited! Monkey demon culture lessons!

Peaches and MK honestly thought that the Stalwarts were their grandparents for a long time, especially since they didn't know Papa Tang's side of family and assumed he was a just patchy-furred monkey. XD

Nezha, checking in on Wukong: "Why do I sense two baby stone monkeys- WHAT THE SCALLOP!?"

Peaches still gets his school bestie in the form of "Nez", albeit from an earlier age. Nezha can risk a mini-god running around without a voice of reason. Moksa tags in on his younger bro's behalf + as a kindness to Guanyin, as a "cool older kid" watching out for the little monkeys. The -Zha brothers want to keep Sun Wukong's condition as much as a secret as possible from the rest of the Celestial Realm.

Erlang takes one third-eye-look at the situation and goes "Ah crap, I'm gonna have to be their mentor." Cue an Athena and Telemachus dynamic developing between Erlang and the boys once they lift the Staff. But for now, he's Babysitter Jian - the only kid Pigsy and Tang have ever seen feed, wash, and entertain the little monkeys without so much as a grumble. (Jian, shrugs: "I have little cousins.")

Even the Peach Maidens who attended the Orchard with Wukong long ago ensure that he and his little brother are well-watched - glamouring themselves as a gaggle of old ladies in their favourite park. Always ready to pinch cheeks, give fresh fruit treats, and tell the boys how big they're getting!

The Thrall is currently reforming his body after Wukong slapped him across the country for stealing the Stone Egg (aka unhatched MK) + forcing him to drink some nasty potion (Meng Po's soup), so he's not much help in raising de-aged macaques rn.

Macaque accidentally dodges LBD by being a slippery little guy! Falls and crawls through so many shadows that its hard to keep track of him from the Underworld. Lives rough on the street for some time before ending up in the hands of someone who would truly care about him.

Sandy: "Aww. You're an odd little kitten aren't ya?" De-Aged!Macaque: (*spitting and hissing at the giant with all his might, violently protecting the cat food he found. Is barely the size of a football*) Sandy, gently picks up cub: "Hey hey... I used to be an angry little guy too. I learned that when a lot of people are upset, they're really just scared about something that hard to explain." De-Aged!Macaque: (*angry grumbles as he's picked up! Presses ears against fish man's chest to drown out the sound of the city*) Sandy: "Are your ears at you, little buddy? I can see why. One, two three... six ears! Thats a lot of earmuffs." De-Aged!Macaque: (*grumbling gets quieter. Absent-mindedly sucks on his fingers.*) Sandy, conflicted: "I... I really should just bring you to a police station or something. But something tells me that you'll need someone in your corner who understands how messy life can be. If I can manage it, would you be ok staying here with me?" De-Aged!Macaque: (*uninterested squeak*) Sandy, smile forming: "I'll take that as an Okey-dokey. Now... how about a name? Your white fur is super shiny in the moonlight... how about Moon?" "Moon": (*tares up at his new guardian with big violet eyes, one is milky and possibly blind. Makes a curious chirrup at the name.*) Sandy, heart-warming smile: "I think thats a winner."

Little Moon is a curious little guy. Not only because of his ears (the fish man jokes that it's his son's axolotl-like gills), but from an early age Moon has had control over shadows.

It began as simple fascination with stage magic. Moon watched stage magicians preform their tricks of misdirection and illusion, and wanted to see if he could replicate it.

Sandy: (*makes a bunny shape in the shadow of a lamp*) Moon: (*excited cheep!*) Moon: (*manipulates shadows to make many bunnies!*) Sandy, surprised: "Oh!"

Sandy was worried that this power wasn't something that could be trained easily, and an incident where Mo disappeared into one of Moon's shadows for an afternoon (reappeared unharmed once the treat bag was shaken) prompted the fish man to try and find an outlet for his kid.

Thats how he met The Nine Tailed Vixen. The elderly huli jing was hosting a children's acting class at her theatre, and Sandy wondered if it would aid his son's creative drive. It turned out to be a blessing since the heavenly fox was quick to identify, and help Moon tame his wild magic.

(Jiuweihuli is so relieved to have her protégé safe and sound again. Sandy is a good man, and she's glad that her little shadow has found a kind papa.)

Sensing a hunch, the old fox contacted Nezha on whether there wer other de-aged little monkeys...

Peaches and Moon meet during one of the acting camps. At first they cannot believe their eyes.

On sight they feel as though they've known the other their entire lives and beyond.

At the end of the day's acting camp, a group of old friends reunite.

Pigsy, with MK in a sling: "Sandy!?" Sandy: "Pigsy!" Peaches & Moon, running to their respective parent: "Baba!" Pigsy & Sandy, both surprised: "Baba!? You?!" "Yeah!" "Since when?" "Since I found him on the street!" "Whoa. weird."

Peaches and Moon are hard to separate after that meeting. Even if acting camp didn't turn out well for the ginger monkey (stage fright activated), they rarely go more than a week without an excited play date or visit to the theatre.

DBK's gut reaction to the young monkey demon holding his sworn brother's staff is; "Did Sun Wukong have a child- wait. What in Yama's name happened to you!?" Peaches doesn't answer the question as he nearly passes out screaming. Moon is half-way across town wondering what's scared his bestie so bad.

[writing-with-moss]

Kinktober 13- Dads best friend

Authors note: Lowkey kinda don't like this prompt but I need to feed you for this Kinktober

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x best friends!daughter

TW/CW: LEGAL age gap, loss of virginity, Price is your dad, He's in his mid-thirties and you're in ur early-twenties, fingering, mentions of divorce

SMUT UNDER THE CUT!!

Family barbecues. They happened pretty often when your mom was still around, but when she left your dad, you didn't really have them anymore.

Now Friend barbecues were more like it. And a lot more enjoyable if you were being honest. Your dad would bring home all his coworkers and you got to hear insane war stories while eating wings and watching football on the big screen.

But there was...a guilty pleasure when it came to these. Simon 'Ghost' Riley. Maybe it was from watching too many romcoms or reading Tumblr smut but it was hard not to be attracted to him. Those thick beefy arms that flexed when he moved and the broad chest barely contained by his short sleeve shirt. Messy blonde hair and soft brown eyes that were like pools of ink you could drown yourself in.

But drowning yourself in someones eyes. Especially someone who was 16 years your senior was weird. So you kept those thoughts to yourself.

Everyone was out back, smoking cigs or making burgers while you stayed inside, drinking lemonade and watching the apple tree in your backyard sway in the gentle breeze. Until you heard the sliding glass door open.

You turn only to be greeted with a giant hulking form staring at you. "Hey." Simon mumbles, shuffling into the kitchen beside you. Pouring a glass of lemonade. "You good."

You snap out from staring at his massive biceps and nod. "Mmhmm. It's just hot outside." You smile, trying not to squirm.

"Yeah I know, Johnny keeps spittin out Scottish slang and I don't get it." He chuckles, a warm rumble in his chest that made your knees wanna give out underneath you.

"I never know what he says, it's like playing a game of mad libs, except its in another language." You earn another laugh from him and it makes you giddy. He liked your joke.

"How old are ya?" He suddenly asks, staring at you. You blush, shifting in your little sundress, pulling it up a little so you could catch a glance at your newly shaved and lotioned thighs.

"Im recently 22." You chirp, blushing at him. "How old are...you Simon?"

He sighs out, his eyes glancing down to rove over your skin before glancing up. "38."

You tilt your head. "Oldie." You smile, giggling as you bring your drink to your lips. He softly smiles and shakes his head.

"Am not."

"You're like sugar daddy age." You blurt out, oh God you really are pushing it. Sugar daddy age? Really? What the hell is wrong with you.

He looks a bit surprised, before laughing slightly. "Am not. Sugar daddy age is like...40s and 50s. I just got experience in pleasuring a woman, I dont need to buy a young thing like you."

You bat your pretty lashes at him and nod, tilting your head. "...Experience in...pleasuring a woman hm?"

"I've had my fair share of girlfriends. I'm not exactly the wait till marriage kinda guy." He mumbles, eyes sweeping over your bare thighs. Shifting in his jeans.

"If you're flirting with me, it's working. But your dad would kill me."

"Not if he doesn't know." You whisper, glancing out the window. Still outside, drinking and smoking. Maybe he'd be too drunk to notice his coworker fucking his daughter. Hopefully. He'd kill you too if he found out.

Simon pauses, sighing as he thinks for a moment. "You're right...you're a young thing though. You a virgin?"

You innocently nod. "Is that a bad thing?"

"No. It means I'm going to be gentle." He sets down his low empty glass of lemonade. Pulling out a condom from his wallet before stuffing it into his backpocket. "Lead the way pretty girl."

You giddly dragged him to your upstairs bedroom, flushed and wanting. You could already feel how wet you were, thighs shifting for that delicious friction.

He gently pushes you into the bed, kissing you hungrily. Hot and open-mouthed, leaving a trail of wet across your skin. "How long have you wanted to fuck me?" He huskily whispers in your ear, stuffing his hands up your skirt.

"S- Since...I don't know. I was 19?" You muffle into his shoulder and he tsks, gently kissing your collarbone.

"m'too old for a sweet thing like you. Cant find anyone your own age?"

"N- no one as good as you." he darkly chuckles at that statement, hiking up your dress and pulling down your panties to expose your puffy cunt to the air.

You hitch and he gently kisses your neck. “Hmm…really?” His thick rough fingers drag themselves through your slick, rubbing your entrance.

you let out a weak moan, hitching when he slips in a finger. God his hands were big. Shifting your hips slightly as you look up at him. His free hand sliding up to guide your chin.

“we’re gonna take it slow. Just like that baby. Gonna add another finger okay?”

you whine and nod, spreading your legs further apart. He slips in another finger, walls stretching, pussy clenching around his digits as he starts to pump them.

“there…now we got a rhythm. Nice huh?”

you nod. “Mmmh- rea- really nice sir…”

The rough pad of his thumb rubs through your arousal, coming down to circle it around your clit. Hips desperately jerk forward, shocks of pleasure running through your core.

“f- fuck-“ You whine, holding his wrist.

“want me to stop?” His fingers slow down their movement and you shake your head no quickly. God you never wanted this to stop.

His fingers continue their movements in your clit, quick swipes and tentative presses, two thick digits pumping in and out of your aching hole.

your newly manicured nails drag down his clothed back, panting like a bitch in heat in his ear.

“p- please sir-“ you buck your hips up. An orgasm washing over your body, leaving tingles in your core as you squirt onto his palm.

he chuckles. “There y’a go…” his movements slow, letting you ride out the pressure wave.

bringing his hand up, he licks it clean, pulling your panties up. “Can y’a walk?”

you nod, sitting up and shifting. Fixing your skirt.

“Just…don’t tell dear ole dad I fucked his little princess m’kay?”

[galacticgraffiti]

After, and From Then On

NSFW ⋆ 18+ ⋆ Minors DNI

Pairing: Gale of Waterdeep x gn!reader

Rating: Explicit Wordcount: 3k Descriptors: Reader's anatomy is not described. I tried to keep it genderneutral, if something slipped through the cracks let me know! CW: grinding (the carnal way), soft-topping Gale bc he deserves it, so soft dom vibes for reader, subby vibes for gale, loads of praise, some dirty talk, feelings, established relationship, some tiddy play (gale receiving hehe)

Author's Note: If you know me, then you know I am not a top, let alone a dom. HOWEVER. Gale makes me feel some type of way. So there you go.

Masterlist ⋆ If you prefer AO3

⋆ ───── ⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆

After, and From Then On

“What a day,” Gale sighs, flopping down onto his pillows. “Dear me, I thought that fight would never end. Thank the gods for Karlach’s greataxe.”

“Right you are, my love.” You sit next to him, feet wiggling, your body still pumped full of adrenaline. The camp has not been this quiet in ages - everyone is away, bathing, looking for supplies. The silence is too much to bear after a day so full of noise and excitement. Your body is practically vibrating with tension, and the sight of Gale does nothing to ease that excitement: You have been in a very specific mood since you bathed together, the rest of the party granting you some time alone by the river in the woods.

Gale had said nothing nor done anything to encourage this mood. Maybe it’s left over adrenaline from the fights, maybe it’s the way he looks with his wet ringlets and the little dangling earring and his beautiful brown eyes. You have been trying very hard to contain yourself - Gale may be very forward in romantic gestures, but he usually takes some time to warm up for anything… more. So you had not said anything when you bathed, though the fire in your belly burns hot.

Looking at him now does not help your situation: The deep cut of his robes revealing the fine hair on his chest, the tattoo stretching its smokey tendrils all the way up his neck.

When Gale lets his head fall back, you watch as the tendons in his throat stretch and strain with the movement, and sparks crackle through your body anew. You want to mark that perfect neck. You want to make him yours.

For a moment, you try to look away. You close your eyes and breathe, but the feeling won’t let up. You are all hopped up, in spite of the long day behind you, and there is only one thing that could help you release some of that tension.

“Gale,” you purr, one hand moving to grab his thigh, wandering up and up and up very slowly. “My love, that fight was… sure something. I love watching you practise your craft, you really are masterful. So inventive, so quick. Karlach is brutally good with that greataxe of hers, but nothing gives me greater pleasure than watching you fight, baby.”

Gale’s eyes snap open at your tone of voice. You hold your breath, giving him the opportunity to stop you, but he does not. Instead, you can see the way his cheeks flush. Your eyes watch closely how his throat bobs when he swallows thickly.

“You flatter me, my darling,” he whispers, his voice rough as he covers your hand on his thigh with his own.

“Mhhm. Maybe.” Your own voice is low and sweet. “A little flattery never hurt anyone, especially when I mean every word I say. And I do know how much you enjoy praise, don’t you, baby boy?”

His thigh beneath your hand twitches at that, and you watch with satisfaction as dark desire is sparked in the deep honey of his eyes. You lick your lips and cock your head, quietly asking for Gale to respond.

“Is that- is that the mood you are in?” He clears his throat, stalling for time as your fingers creep further up his leg, dragging a nail up his thigh. You roll onto your side so you can get a better view of him: His cheeks flush as he spreads his legs further for you, his mouth barely open but enough so that you can hear the breaths and low moans that fall from his lips when you finally cup his hardening cock in your hand.

“That is the mood I’m in, my love,” you confirm sweetly, pressing your palm down until Gale shudders, the quietest of whimpers escaping from his throat. “And is it the mood you are in?”

Gale’s hand is placed on top of yours and you let him guide you, more than willing to give in to his request… for now.

“It is very much the mood I am in now.” With a tilt of his head he smiles, his eyes soft and already clouded with sweet pleasure. You smile a wicked smile, now properly wrapping your hand around him through his robes and undergarments, savouring the weight of him in your hand.

“And that’s all it takes to get you hard for me, baby? Knowing that I want to spoil you rotten, knowing I want to make you beg for me until all you can think of is my name?” You feel him twitch beneath your fingers again, and you smirk. Oh, it really is so easy to get him all riled up.

Gale moans, fingers fisting into his robes, and for once, he responds not in words but in a sharp, desperate nod.

“Come on, baby boy, I’m gonna need to hear you say it for me, yeah? Tell me how much you want it and maybe I’ll allow you to come for me.”

“Oh!” The whimper that escapes Gale only fans the flames in your belly. This is the only time you ever see him lost for words. As much as you enjoy listening to him, learning from him, soaking up the knowledge he possesses like a sponge… this is special. This is a way only you ever get to see him: Lost for words as he is buried in the pleasure you bring him. You love the way you can always tell exactly how far gone he is, by the twitch of his thigh and the look in his eyes.

You run your nails along the length of his cock, revelling in the sweet moans that fall from Gale’s lips before you decide that this is simply not enough.

You push yourself up, and before Gale can open his mouth to protest the loss of contact, you straddle him, bracketing his thighs between yours. His hands come to rest on your hips without even thinking, and you don’t see why you shouldn’t allow it. Not now that you can feel him press against you, hard as a rock; not now that you feel the heat emanating from him; not now that you can push your hands inside his robes to play with his perfect chest. When your fingertips graze his nipple, Gale lets out a moan so loud you have to bend forward and kiss him to swallow it up.

“Shh, baby, they’ll hear you. The river is not so far away.” You remove one hand from his robes to cup his jaw, swiping your thumb across his lower lip as you look at him sternly. “And if you don’t want an audience… you don’t want me to stop, do you?”

“No- never.” Gale’s voice breaks even within those few syllables. “I desire you, more than anything- I wish for you to take whatever you want from me and let that be enough to keep you by my side. I want to make you happy.”

“Mhh, you do make me happy,” you hum, though your heart aches at his words. “Listen to me, my love. I will never leave you. You are enough, just the way you are.”

Carefully, you kiss him again, sweetly, without haste, pushing your tongue into his mouth until he moans your name. Your hips start rocking, grinding down into him, and you let yourself enjoy the feeling of him beneath you. His hips buck and you click your tongue in disappointment.

“No, no, baby, you stay nice and still for me. You stay just like this and look so pretty for me, with your cheeks all flushed and your lips swollen from my kisses, and you don’t move until I tell you it’s okay. The longer you stay still for me, the more time I’ll have to praise you, to tell you just how perfect you are for me. Would you like that, my love? ”

Gale shudders, but his hips still.

“Yes, I would like that,” he mumbles, his eyes cast down.

Gently, you tilt his chin up with two fingers.

“You are not just telling me what I want to hear now, are you?” you ask sternly. “You can always say no, my love. I won’t be mad.”

Gale’s lip trembles before he catches himself. His hands tighten on your hips.

“I do want this,” he says, his voice rough with sweet and honest desire. “This is… perfect. You are perfect- you treat me so much better than she-”

“Shh.” You shake your head. “No thoughts of her. You don’t belong to her anymore. You are your own person, my love, and you are so wonderful. So talented and so wise, so sweet and so brave. You are everything good and more. And… if you wish, you can be mine, all mine. My sweet love. As long as you are happy, so am I.”

Gale nuzzles his face against your chest at your words. You wrap your arms around him and hold him as tight as you can, placing sweet kisses in his soft hair.

“You are perfect,” you whisper. “And you are always enough. Whatever you want is fine- whether you want more, or whether you want less. I’ll always take care of you, baby boy.”

You bury your hands in his hair, loosening your embrace to give him space. For a second, Gale remains still, but then he pulls back to look up at you, his eyes shimmering in the light of the sunset.

“My affections for you run deeper than even I have words to describe,” he murmurs. “All I can think of when I look at you is that- I want more. I always want more. Especially when it comes to you.”

You smile and bend closer to him until your lips nearly touch, the bridge of his nose resting against yours.

“Good boy,” you whisper. Gale tenses beneath you, and pleasure ripples through you when he sighs happily.

“I like it when you call me that,” he admits quietly.

You chuckle.

“I’ll make sure to take note of that, my love.” Slowly, your hips resume their movement, grinding down against him once more, but you pace yourself. You don’t want to do too much too fast. “You are being so good for me. So patient and so sweet, so eager to please me. My sweet, good boy.”

Gale moans again, his voice echoing in the crisp air. You press a finger to his lips.

“Shh, baby, shhh. As much as I love the way you sound, you need to be quiet. Can you do that for me, my love? Can you be quiet?” When Gale hesitates, a devious smile tugs at the corners of your lips. “Mhh, I can always give your mouth something else to do, then. Would you like that?”

“I think I would very much enjoy that.” Gale nods eagerly and looks at you with those big eyes of his that tug at your heart.

“Good boy.” You smile and kiss him once again. You stroke his cheek, taking your time to caress his face, make him feel loved and seen and safe, before you slowly push two fingers into his mouth. Gale’s eyes go wide with surprise, but he overcomes his hesitancy quickly, sucking on your fingers with an eagerness you did not expect.

“Oh, you really like that, don’t you?” You mumble, more to yourself than anything else. “Look at you- those rosy lips wrapped around my fingers, your cock so hard for me. You’re perfect, baby, so perfect for me. Gods, I love feeling you beneath me, I love feeling how hard I can get you. I love the expression on your face when you finally get to turn off that brain of yours, when your mind goes quiet and empty except for the way I’m making you feel.”

Gale nods, humming around your fingers.

“You like that too, hm?” You smile at the eager expression on his face. “Well then. Relax for me, baby. Focus on me, yeah? Focus on the taste of my fingers in your mouth, focus on how good it feels to grind up against me- now you can move, baby, there you go. There you go, good boy, oh- oh, you’re so hard for me, aren’t you? Already getting desperate for me? So, so desperate to come, oh I know, I’m torturing you. Forgive me, baby, it’s just so- much- fun-”

You pull your fingers from his lips to give him the chance to answer, dipping your hands into his robes again instead, dragging the wetness of his spit across his hardened nipples.

“I ado- oh!- adore the way you make me feel,” Gale breathes. “You make me feel things I had never felt before- you make me feel safe and- you take care of me. When it all gets too much, when I get overwhelmed, I know I can always look to you. You have become my safe place in the time we have been travelling together, and nothing makes me happier than the sparkle in your eye when you spot me across camp, or across a room, or even across a bloodied battlefield.”

“Mhhm.” You sigh in contentment, ignoring the burn in your thighs as you rock your hips into him. “You feeling good, baby?”

“Much better than good.” Gale’s cheeks are rosy, and his eyes have the absent shimmer of someone lost in pleasure. “Will you- would you kiss me again?”

Your heart melts.

“Of course.”

His lips are soft, and they taste of mead and blood- remainders of a long day. You don’t mind when you push your tongue into his mouth, especially not with the way Gale moans into you. You deepen the kiss, your hands finding their way into his hair again, tugging gently. Gale’s thigh jumps at that and he lets out a strangled sound.

“Good gods, I-”

You freeze.

“Was that a good reaction or a-”

“Yes! Yes, good reaction.” He captures your lips again after he whispers, “do it again.”

You hum and fulfil his wish, pressing up against him as you gently tugging his curls until he tilts his head back. You can feel the softness of his belly against yours, and his fingers starting to dig into your hips though he knows better than to force your pace.

Gale moans, his hips pressing up into you in a way that really makes you feel just how hard he is. When you roll your hips, meeting him right where you want him, the outline of his cock slotting between your thighs so deliciously, a breathy curse falls from his lips. You tug at his hair again, and Gale exhales your name with such reverence it takes your breath away. 

Your kiss gets greedy, your tongue in his mouth, and you let yourself fall into him, panting as you chase your own pleasure, hips rolling, pressing down against the hard length of his cock. You break the kiss only to breathe, your lips swollen, and note with pleasure that Gale’s lips are rosy and his eyes heavy-lidded.

“You look so pretty like this for me,” you whisper, cupping his jaw in your hand again, stroking his cheek with a gentle touch. “Absolutely perfect. I never want to stop looking at you, my pretty boy, my sweet boy- my perfect boy. The way you worship me makes me never want to stop- makes me want to give you everything you ask for… what is it you want, my love? Do you want to come like this, filthy and quick and good? Or do you want to take your time- will you let me take care of you properly later?”

Gale groans, his lips parting and his brow furrowing as he ponders your question. You never stop moving, grinding down against him with shallow movements, savouring the sight of him beneath you, dishevelled at your hands and yours alone.

“We could go into town,” you continue as a plan slowly forms in your head. “We could rent a room, a proper one, with a real bed- enjoy all the luxuries the city has to offer for a night. Just us, nobody else: not the others, no gods or goddesses, no elder brain, no danger. Just us and the love we have for each other. Let me take care of you. Let me take my time and make you happy, let me make sure you have everything you have ever wanted. Because you deserve it, my love. You are so precious to me- you are everything. I would take down gods to taste you.”

Gale stares at you, and for once in his life, his words don’t seem to be enough. Then-

“I love you.”

You pause, taking in the sudden look of panic on his face, feeling the way his hands grasp at the material of your trousers in their search for something to hold on to, noting the way his lower lip is trembling and how he can’t look you in the eye. He does not expect you to respond. You can tell. He expects you to push him away and ease off his lap without telling him how you feel, because nobody has ever done that for him. The thought makes your heart shatter into a million pieces.

You tilt his chin up and hold him there until finally, he looks at you properly. You smile, and you have never meant anything more than you mean the words you say to him now:

“I love you too, Gale.”

⋆ ───── ⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆

I'm losing my marbles pondering his orb. And his orbs.

@purgetrooperfox @ashotofspotchka @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @ulchabhangorm @queen--kenobi @samspenandsword @rescuethewretched @pinkiemme @baba-fett @witchklng @ladykatakuri @certified-anakinfucker @fanfiction-i-llike @voidinfernal @foxferret02 @rosieofcorona @savagemickey03 @perseny @margoisthemoon2 @shiiunn @saucyhedgehog @tonysoffice @pupshr00m @supercalifragilisticprincess @palpipeen @silly-gooseastarion @mila-bee @shit-i-say-throughout-the-day @idkwhatsgoingonwithme @aeryntheofficial @jekasha @gub @nogitsune-the @solarrexplosion @hexqueensupreme @unofficialavenger90 @frankiesghost @curtaincaramba @kimiheartblade @niqhtfell @campfull-of-weirdos

[seravphs]

beating hearts promised to bared teeth — part one: “The God Finds A Familiar” 

KITSUNE! GOJO x GOD! FEM READER; KAMISAMA HAJIMEMASHITA AU

When a kind stranger offers you his home because your gambling addict of a father can’t pay rent, you’re left in charge of a shrine - with a catch. Once you arrive at your new home, you learn a crucial fact that he conveniently left out. You’re the new god in charge, and his familiar, who now belongs to you, does not like you. What’s a new god to do, especially when she finds herself slowly falling for the fox spirit?

wc — 10k

tags — enemies to lovers, shoujo manga heroine type reader, Japanese mythology/yokai, age gap (1000 year old fox and high school girl), slowburn, cameo from Sukuna, Toji, and Nanami, cameo from original Kamisama Hajimemashita cast

part two — “The God Finds A Husband” (coming soon)

shoujo series masterlist

If your stomach growls any louder, you’ll scare off the squirrels fighting over the end of a baguette loaf by the park bench you’re sitting on. 

You’re currently in the middle of what others might describe as very hard times. To be honest, your very hard times have been going on for a while now - they just culminated at this specific moment. Regardless, these days are only temporary. You’ve promised yourself that one day, you’ll be able to smile from the bottom of your heart. 

It’s just that it was easier said than done when you weren’t homeless. Your father has never been the most reliable of men. You had to take over the household finances by the time you were eight, so you’ve always been accustomed to his lack of responsibility, but today really solidified his status in your mind as an absolutely useless, no good man. It’s unfathomable cruelty to have left his only daughter with no money, no relatives, and no home. 

You don’t want to call it cruel. For all of his faults, you still love your father. And it’s because you love him that you know this wasn’t a cruel act. Cruelty is intentional. It’s malicious. It comes from a desire to hurt. Your father has never wanted to hurt you. It’s just a byproduct of his gambling addiction. You’re collateral damage in his quest for the jackpot that would solve all his problems. 

You double over in agony at the renewed complaints from your stomach. At least you’ve gone from scaring mere squirrels to scaring passersby. That’s an upgrade, right? 

One woman clutches her purse closer as she walks past you as briskly as possible. You get it, you look bad. 

But there’s no use being resentful. Your father has been barely one step above a deadbeat all your life. At the very least, you’re used to fending for yourself. Your stomach growls again, but you’re determined to ignore it. You need a plan of action. One step after another, you’ll make it out of these troublesome times. 

Before you can start to plot, a loud cry for help catches your attention. It sounds like someone else is in even more dire straits than you are, which is saying a lot. 

The squirrels have long since scattered, run off not by the scary noises coming from your famished stomach, but a pack of dogs. Somehow, a man has climbed several feet into the tree next to the trash can, and now perched precariously in its branches. Below him, curious dogs tilt their heads and give cautious barks. 

“Aw, hello there, cuties,” you coo, rubbing behind their ears. They yip at you enthusiastically. One sets to chasing his own tail around the tree. They seem friendly enough, but you suppose one can’t help their phobias. A little regretfully, you chase them off. 

“Go on now,” you tell the last one, leading him away. He whines, but does as you say. What a good boy. 

“Thank you,” says the stranger stranded in the tree. He slides down the trunk, face slowly regaining color. “I owe you my life.” 

“It was nothing!” You smile, but he won’t let you brush off your good deed. 

“You’re a good kid,” he nods approvingly. “Gotta reward that. Is there anything you want?” 

A home. 

Not just the house you shared with your father, but somewhere warm to return to. A person who waits to see you safely inside the threshold. 

But you know a stranger can’t give you that, so you shake your head and smile. “Really, it was nothing. You don’t owe me anything.” 

As if he had heard your inner monologue, the stranger raises an eyebrow. “A home, hm? I might be able to help with that.” 

Before you can react, he leans in and kisses your forehead. Where his lips touched your skin feels faintly warm and tingly, almost like the sensation of your leg going numb, before you recoil from him in shock. 

He presses a map into your hand and tells you, “Go to this address. Tell them Yaga sent you, and you’ll be welcomed with open arms.” 

With that, he runs off. 

What a strange man. 

Well, you’ve had a strange life, taking care of your hopeless father and all. Perhaps these things really did happen. It wasn’t so impossible for strangers to appear out of nowhere and reward you for good deeds. Maybe all the fairytales your father had read to you back when he hadn’t been so terrible were true. 

Or maybe that was the wishful thinking of an optimistically delusional girl who needed somewhere to stay desperately.

The address is located on the outskirts of town. Pushing deeper into foliage and closer to forest than civilization, you find the location you had been sent to. 

It’s a shrine. 

A run-down shrine, of all places. 

Are you on a comedy show? Should you start checking for cameras? 

Against your will, you feel your eyes grow hot. That was a cruel trick to play. He had gotten your hopes up for nothing. 

It’s not just your eyes. Your entire body starts to feel warm. The world around you erupts into blue flame. Heat licks at your shins as you scramble towards safety, closer to the center of the circle that has formed around you. 

When the flames suddenly leap, as if they’ll consume the entire sky, you scream and drop to your knees, covering your head like it’s a bomb threat. Two childish voices ring in your head, as clear and crisp as bells. 

Welcome home, Yaga-sama. 

It’s a shrine. There’s only one logical conclusion. 

This is a haunting. 

There’s only one safe path out of the ring of fire, and it’s towards the building you’ve now concluded is the site of paranormal activity. Between being actively burned alive or facing spirits though, you know which one you’ll choose. 

Your frantic fingers fumble over the latch on the shrine’s red doors as the fire inches closer and closer until you can feel its heat on your back. Finally, you throw open the doors and all but launch yourself inside. The heat recedes, but the voices do not. 

“Back already, Yaga?” A male voice drawls. “I thought your pilgrimage would’ve taken longer. After leaving me to maintain the shrine by myself for sixty years -“

You shriek as an enormous, clawed hand comes down towards your face. Your eyes squeeze shut, waiting for the end. 

“I’m not Yaga,” you wail, hoping it will save you. 

“You have a lot of nerve?” The voice finishes, more uncertainly than before. When you deem it safe to open your eyes once more, what stands before is a young man dressed in all white. White hair and blue eyes make for a staring constraint, but his coloring isn’t what’s strange about him. 

It’s his clawed hands and the equally white fox tail behind him. 

“Megumi, Tsumiki,” he says authoritatively. “This isn’t Yaga.” 

A shining ball of fire comes forward, speaking in the little girl’s voice you heard earlier. “That can’t be right! Look, she has the mark of the god on her forehead.” 

You touch your forehead, remembering the warm tingly sensation you had felt when that man kissed you. Feeling slightly delirious, you start to laugh, only to grow alarmed when you find you can’t stop. You’re growing out of breath from your near hysterical laughing, tears streaming out of the corners of your eyes. 

“Oh, great,” says the fox spirit. “She’s crazy.” 

“She’s the one with the mark,” the other ball of fire, Megumi, says. “That means she’s the god whether you like it or not, Gojo.” 

Tsumiki darts over to you, but halfway through her journey, she goes from fire to a little child just under 2 feet tall. She’s wearing a mask and plain blue yukata. 

“We have to celebrate!” She claps her hands together in excitement. “Our god has finally returned!”

Gojo looks dismissively down on you. Your laughing fit is finally starting to die down, but he doesn’t seem impressed regardless. “What god? I won’t accept a little human girl as my master. She couldn’t handle the strength of a familiar like me.”  

His condescension only makes you giggle harder. You can’t help it. Something about the fluffy fox ears protruding out of his head makes it hard to take him seriously. 

“What strength?” You laugh in his face. “This shrine is so dilapidated, I doubt you’re anything special.” 

Gojo looks away. “If she stays, I’m leaving. I won’t serve this kind of pathetic god.”

He disappears in a cloud of white smoke before Tsumiki can finish saying, “Don’t be like that!”

The will-o-wisp children introduce themselves to you as shrine spirits who look after the building. It takes a while, but by the time they kindly show you to the room where you’ll be staying, you can distinguish Tsumiki from Megumi by the differences in the masks they never take off. 

Your room is simple and threadbare. The walls are paneled bamboo and the only furnishing is an old futon. Still, you’re grateful. It’s leagues better than sleeping in the woods, which is what you started this day fearing you would have to resort to. You’ve never been the type to complain, and you won’t start now, no matter how strange your life has gotten. 

Fox spirits and will-o-wisp children don’t exist. They’re the stuff of myths. Maybe you’re just seeing things because you’re tired, you muse as you drift off to sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning after a nice, long rest. The events of today will feel so far away, and you’ll be able to start over. 

Or maybe you’re dead already, and you’re wandering in the Netherworld. Perhaps the reason you can see spirits is because you’re currently residing in their land. Your entire body seizes up as you jolt yourself back to wakefulness. 

“Kamisama,” Tsumiki has crept back into your room. “Are you alright?” 

You tell her to call you by her name. Calling you god just doesn’t feel right. 

Gently, she nestles down by your pillow and puts her cold little hands on your forehead. Rather than shocking to your senses, it feels pleasant. When you were a little girl and got sick, your father used to let you stay home from school. He’d pack a towel with ice cubes and place it on your overheated forehead, staying up with you all night just to chat. It’s a good memory. 

“It’ll be alright,” Tsumiki tells you in her gentle voice. “You’ll see.” 

For spirits that supposedly take care of the shrine, you have a suspicion that Tsumiki and Megumi are pushing their work onto you when they brief you on your chores the next morning. It turns out godhood is a lot less summoning storms and a lot more doing yard work. 

Tsumiki insists that keeping the shrine pure is important for keeping evil spirits away. For some reason, that means cleaning. When you ask about calling lightning or summoning lions, Megumi laughs at you. 

“That’s Getou-sama’s job,” he says. “Your specialty is marriage. Yaga was very good at tying peoples’ fates together. You will be, too.”

He has more faith than you do in that regard. When it comes to chores, however, you’re more certain of your abilities. Busy work keeps the absurdity of your situation from sinking in, and you’re good at running the household from years of dealing with your father. You’re grateful for something to do. If you think about the past day too hard, you might break down into shocked laughter and never get back up. 

Besides, even if you don’t feel particularly ready to be a god, Tsumiki and Megumi are letting you stay in the shrine. You have to earn your keep. Soon, you settle into the process of cleaning, letting the methodical, rhythmic nature of your movements erase any doubts in your mind. You think of nothing but the cooling sensation of the water when you dip your rag into the bucket and the clean, woody scent of the shrine as you scrub the wood. 

“Ooh,” Tsumiki says approvingly when she appears. “It looks better already! Can you do the lawn next?” 

Plucking weeds is notably less soothing than cleaning. With no gloves, you’re careful to avoid hurting yourself as you tug on spiky vines and knotted twigs, but it’s no use. Eventually, you lose focus and a sharp sting graces your finger. Blood drips down your hand. You hiss in pain. 

A hand with white claws instead of nails grabs your wrist. You yelp in shock as Gojo brings your finger to his mouth and laps at the blood. It stains his lips slightly red. He worries at the cut with his tongue, making your wound ache. You try to pull back, but he holds on. 

To your amazement, the cut closes before your eyes. You’re just about to thank him when he ruins the moment. 

“You really are useless,” he says. “You can’t even pluck grass?”

You yank your hand out of his grip as hard as you can, sending yourself tumbling back against the grass. You hate how it must make yourself seem even more human in his eyes, a weak, fragile thing. 

“Give up,” he says, and it’s almost gentle, the way his claws graze your chin as he holds your face in one hand. “You’re not suited to be a god.” 

You turn away, unwilling to let him see any more of your vulnerability. “You don’t know anything about me.” 

“Suit yourself,” he says with a noise of annoyance. “Brats who run away from home aren’t my problem.” 

“I didn’t run away!” You snap, whirling on him. “My dad was the one who ran! I don’t have anywhere else to go!” 

But he’s gone.

At least Megumi and Tsumiki are nice to you. Megumi takes the bucket of weeds you deposit at the front door and whisks it somewhere out of your sight, while Tsumiki prepares a nice, hot bath for you. Exhausted, you collapse onto the bamboo floor spread eagle. 

God, a voice murmurs in your head.

Not again. You don’t want any more spirits to deal with. When you raise your head, instead of another yokai, there’s an old woman standing in front of the shrine. Her head is bowed and her hands are clasped in prayer. 

Please bless my daughter’s marriage so that she will enjoy a long and fruitful life with her partner. 

Her voice is coming from some place inside your head. It resonates like a bell, ringing crisp and clear. You stretch out your hands wonderingly. You don’t look any different. 

“You see?” Tsumiki says approvingly. “You’re a god.”’ 

But you don’t feel like one. You feel just like a normal person. 

“A god needs a familiar.” You can’t see Megumi’s face behind his mask as he speaks, but you can imagine the solemn little boy he must be. “You need to bind Gojo to you.”

“How do I do that?” 

“You have to kiss him.” 

You wait for them to tell you they’re joking. 

“What? I can’t kiss him! Is there-” 

Megumi cuts in. “It’s just the traditional way to seal the contract. Don’t think too much of it.” 

The fact that neither of them are bothered makes you feel like the ridiculous one for being off put by this, but you’re sure you’re not. Still, if you’re a god now, you have to put all of your mortal sensibilities aside. It’s like another culture, you tell yourself. Like how Europeans kiss each other on the cheek to say hello. Even if you can’t convince yourself, Megumi and Tsumiki are insistent. 

You were so fired up just a second ago, but now your head is filled with doubts. If such a simple matter can sway you, are you really meant to be a god after all? Maybe Gojo is right. Maybe you should just leave. 

“Please,” Tsumiki says. She looks distraught. “Don’t abandon us. Please don’t leave.” 

Megumi doesn’t say anything, but his silence is enough. 

“Okay,” you say, feeling defeated. “I’ll give it a shot.” 

You’ve always been good at chores. If taming Gojo is just another part of your new job, it sounds like it's time to get serious. 

“Take me to him.” 

Megumi and Tsumiki balk. 

“Right now?”

“Why not? The sooner I get it over with, the better, right?”

“He’s...indisposed at the moment,” Tsumiki says carefully. 

“Indisposed? Is he sick?” 

“Not quite,” Megumi says. He’s very expressive for a spirit. You can practically imagine him grimacing. 

“Then it’s fine!” 

You would soon come to regret your words. 

Megumi and Tsumiki lead you out of the shrine. They show you where to find the path that can lead you to the land of spirits and demons. Your entire body rebels at the feeling of being in this other world, but at the same time, you feel at home here. The god and the girl that coexist inside of you are mutually repelled by and attracted to this place. 

Even though you know Megumi and Tsumiki aren’t really children, or at least children in the way mortals think of them, you’re still concerned about letting them traipse around this dangerous place. However, they seem more used to this world than you are. That energy is better devoted to fending for yourself. 

They lead you under bridges where the running water smells like flowers and women’s voices hiss in the babble of the current. Tree leaves rustle with hands that disappear into darkness. You follow them through dark alleyways lined with red paper blessings, and doorsteps encircled with salt. Eyes follow you, leaving your skin crawling. 

You’re so focused on keeping your head down and staying out of danger that you almost don’t notice when they stop. You nearly run Megumi over. 

“He’s inside here,” Tsumiki says. 

Is it just you, or does she seem nervous? 

The lanterns inside this establishment are turned down to a dimness that barely illuminates the corridors. Sweet smelling smoke writhes around your feet from some unknown source as you head deeper and deeper into the maze of hallways, following the pair of shrine spirits. You pass women wearing fox masks, dressed in luxurious kimonos. Their hair towers over their head in elaborate updos, held in place with beautiful pins inlaid with chartreuse and gold. 

Megumi stops before a folding screen door. Like all things within this building, it’s beautiful. The silk screen is painted with images of flowers and more gruesome scenes as well, but somehow, it’s still breath-taking. A little like Gojo, in that regard. 

You hear the voices of women behind the screen, flattering Gojo. The light of a single candle illuminates the dim room, imprinting his silhouette against it, as well as that of the two women with him. They’re draped over him, hands roaming his body as they purr their compliments. Your face burns with embarrassment. 

“What are you doing?” Megumi demands of Gojo. “How can you parade around the red-light district like this? You’re the familiar of a god, not some common demon! If Yaga knew, it’d break his poor heart.” 

Behind the screen, Gojo merely brushes him off. “Yaga’s been replaced by some little human worm. Why should I care what he thinks now?”

“What about the shrine? Don’t you care about that, at least?” Tsumiki's voice is thick with reproach. 

“Now that you mention it, I don’t think I do,” he says. “Ha! You know what? Maybe I should thank that girl. Now that I’m free, I can do whatever I want.” 

“Gojo-“ 

“I’ll can indulge in every little vice Yaga never allowed me to touch before. Who would want to be a familiar when I can have all of this?” 

“Gojo, our god is here.” 

“What?” 

He leaps up and pushes the screen aside, coming face to face with you. He looks startled to see you, though you don’t see why he should care, since he so desires to lead a life of sin. 

You look upon him with disgust. You might want a familiar, but you’re not so desperate you’d stoop as low as this. Gojo cares so little for anyone but himself. If you’re going to be a god, you’re going to do it right. You’ll pick a good familiar, one who will genuinely love the shrine as much as it deserves. 

You turn and leave as he, half-clothed, frantically starts pulling on the outer layers of his kimono. 

“Wait,” he calls after you. “Tsumiki! Megumi! Why would you bring her here?”

“She wanted to see you,” Megumi retorts. 

“This isn’t the place for a human,” he says. “She’s going to get eaten!” 

The faster Gojo follows you, the faster you run from him. By the time you’re out of what you’ve come to realize is a brothel, you’re sprinting. Your legs carry you right into someone else as your face slams against a broad, muscled chest. 

“Oh,” says a voice above your head. “How pretty.” 

A hand caresses your face. This spirit has tattoo marks across his face and body. More interestingly, he has multiple arms. 

You’re frozen in place by fear as he brings his mouth closer and closer to your face. He’s close enough to kiss, but this is a spirit, which means he’s more likely to eat you. 

“Be good for me now,” he purrs in your ear. “Fear makes flesh all the sweeter.” 

Three of his six arms are consumed by fire. He pushes you away from him in favor of batting out the flame. 

Gojo pulls you towards him, hiding you in the folds of his billowing kimono. You press your face against his shoulder, swallowing back the tears of fear from nearly being eaten. Somehow, he feels safe, even though he’s been nothing but antagonistic towards you. He feels almost protective as he shields your body with his, securing you under one arm. 

“Scram,” he tells the other demon. “She’s mine, Sukuna.” 

Sukuna rolls his pairs of eyes. “You weren’t with her when I caught her. She’s fair game.” 

Fox fire flickers in Gojo’s hand. His white talons seem to elongate before your eyes. 

“If you want to fight over her, then by all means,” he says with a dangerous smile. “But we both know I’d win.” 

“Maybe later then,” Sukuna says, lazily as if Gojo isn’t threatening him. “Once I’ve eaten my fill.” 

He stalks off into the night in search of more prey. 

“This is why I told you to wait,” Gojo says, running his hand over his face. “You’re practically bait in this world. Come on, I’ll take you home.” 

You nod, not trusting your voice, but he catches on anyways. 

“Don’t cry,” he says, his face twisted in a grimace. “I won’t know what to do if you cry. Look, this is just your life now, okay? You’ll have to get used to it.” 

On impulse, you press your face into his shoulder again, still sniffling. You want to be comforted, even though you know he won’t give it to you. 

“Ugh,” he says, true to form. “Quit that.” 

By the time you’ve calmed down, Gojo has already escorted you back to the shrine. 

“Don’t come back,” he tells you. 

Of course, you can’t listen to him. On your second night in the land of the dead and monsters, not only do you have to hide from beasts who would devour you the moment they found out what you were, you also have to hide from Gojo. You’re wearing a disguise, courtesy of Tsumiki and Megumi. 

In your defense, it’s not like you want to be here. You need a familiar, and it’s clearly not going to be Gojo. 

According to Tsumiki, Gojo’s the strongest, but there are other familiars who would be willing to serve you. They’re all in the Netherworld, however, and you have to find them before you can contract them. 

You pull the curtain of the hat shielding your face a little closer around you as you peer at the faces surrounding you, trying to gauge who looks friendly. None of them do. You’ve been wandering around for hours, but not a single spirit has stood out to you. 

In the end, you don’t find him. He finds you. 

“A human god?” A hand grasps your wrist loosely. “That’s rare. Don’t you know it’s dangerous to be here?” 

The man in front of you looks normal by any standards - but you know better than to trust your gut in the netherworld. Still, he’s the closest thing to a human you’ve seen in a while. Surrounded by a maelstrom of monsters, he feels like the eye of the storm. There’s a quiet and a calm surrounding him, even as you walk among noderabo with withered, leathery skin and scaly yajo. 

It’s not like he’s in his own little pocket of the world, you realize. He is. Everyone is purposefully giving him a wide berth. 

“Who are you?”  

“I asked first,” he says. 

“You know who I am! You just said so - I’m the human god.” 

His eyes rake over you. “So you are. But what are you doing here, girl?” 

You throw his words back in his face obstinately. “You first.”

“I’m Toji.” That doesn’t tell you anything, but he’s clearly unwilling to divulge more. “Your turn.”

“I’m looking for a familiar.” 

“What about your familiar? I heard that Gojo-sama isn’t keen on sharing.” 

Somehow, the way he says Gojo-sama sounds derisive, even with the respectful honorific. 

“He doesn’t want to be my familiar.” 

The rejection stings coming out of your own mouth. 

“Sounds like him. Haughty bastard, he couldn’t stand to serve a human girl, could he?” 

“Yeah! He’s an asshole,” you say, feeling validated. 

When Toji laughs, the scar over his lip tugs one side of his mouth down. You kind of like it. And he must be strong, just looking at him. He’s well muscled and covered in scars. Of course, there’s the little matter of the reverence everyone around you is offering him. Tsumiki and Megumi had told you to just go out and find one. Could it be that easy?

“Are you interested?” 

He gives you a look of barely concealed amusement. “You’re funny, girl. I don’t think Gojo would like that very much, though.” 

“I don’t care what Gojo thinks.” 

“Oh, here he comes now. Don’t go running too far - you’ll worry him,” he says, slow and easy. His confidence is absurd - it reminds you of Gojo, actually. He must be strong. “If you’re really serious about wanting me as a familiar, why don’t you meet me here again in three days?”

“What are you doing?” Gojo snarls at you. His teeth match the rest of his fox physique. With wonder, you realize that his pearly canines are pointed beyond what’s normal. “I told you not to come back!” 

“But- He-” You turn around to point Toji out, but he’s gone. 

“Who?” Gojo says. 

“He was right there!” 

“You’re so annoying,” Gojo bites out. “I don’t care what happens to you, but if you die, Megumi and Tsumiki will cry, so stop wandering off on your own. You’re lucky you didn’t get devoured on the spot.” 

He’s starting to get really irritating. You shove his hands off. 

“You know it’s actually your fault I’m here, right? If you didn’t reject me, I wouldn’t have to scour the Netherworld for a familiar.” 

Gojo scoffs. “My fault? Maybe you should take a look at yourself. If you were less weak, I wouldn’t have a problem serving you!” 

“That’s- You’re impossible!” You splutter. “I can’t help being weak! I was born this way! Not everyone is so lucky to be born a kitsune, oh-so-great-Gojo-sama.” 

“Enough,” he sighs. Taking you by your wrist, he forcibly drags you through the streets back in the direction you came. 

“Ow! You’re hurting me!” 

“Gojo!” Megumi’s reproving voice breaks the argument up before it can begin again. 

He lets go of you almost guiltily, if you thought he could feel guilt. 

“I’ll take her home,” Megumi says. 

Gojo’s tail lashes behind him angrily, but Megumi doesn’t spare him a second glance as he ushers you away. 

“Thank you,” you tell him in relief. “What are you doing here?” 

“You were taking a long time,” he says. “Tsumiki and I were getting worried. Did you find anyone?” 

You think of Toji. “No,” you say. “No one.” 

The next day, while Megumi and Tsumiki dress you for your trip through the Netherworld again, Megumi presses three slips of white paper into your hands. 

“We should’ve taught you this sooner,” he says. “One of the powers of a god is to transform objects. Whatever you write on this charm will become true - within the scope of your power. Be safe.”  

Armed with your paper slips, you feel like a real god. Tsumiki pushes you out the door with a prayer for good luck, though you’re not sure you can grant prayers to yourself for yourself.

Outside the door, something whines by your feet.

“Gojo?” 

Or is that a regular white fox? 

It snaps its teeth at you. 

Definitely Gojo.

“I don’t need an escort,” you tell him, making shooing motions at him with your hands. “Go away!” 

He rolls over and yips at you, his tail wagging. 

“I can’t understand you like this!” 

“I said,” a cloud of smoke reveals him, mostly humanoid once again, except for his ears and tail. “I don’t want to do this either. It’s for Megumi and Tsumiki.” 

Toji doesn’t seem to like him, so you don’t want to risk bringing him with you. Despite your best attempts to shake him, Gojo follows you as you retrace your steps back into the spirit world. You’re just starting to despair when you spot a bigger reason to be upset. 

“Hello, delicious,” Sukuna says. “Ready for round two?” 

Why does he look even more terrifying? Did he get bigger? 

“Leave her alone,” Gojo says, almost bored. “It’s pathetic. You can only bully things weaker than you, huh?” 

“I’m not afraid to fight you,” Sukuna tells him. 

You’re panicking. They both look serious. You don’t want to be caught between these two forces of nature. 

“You should be,” Gojo says, and steps in front of you. Over his shoulder, he tells you, “Run. You’re in my way.” 

This is the chance you were waiting for. 

Toji’s dressed differently when you find him again. Last night, he was wearing a casual black kimono. Tonight, he’s dressed in a tight fitting black shirt and loose white pants. 

“You look nice,” you tell him, feeling anxious. Your mind keeps going back to Gojo. You’re sure he can hold his own, but you’re still worried for him. As you are, however, you’re of no help to him. The only way you’d be able to rescue him if he actually was in danger is by making a contract with a powerful familiar. 

“It’s for work,” he says. “Follow me.” 

“We can’t do it here?” 

“Do you want to kiss me in front of everyone?” He shrugs and reaches for you. “I mean, I’m down if you are, but I figured-” 

“No,” you squeak and dart away. “Privacy is good!” 

He laughs. “You’re as funny as ever, huh? C’mere.” 

Toji leads you off the beaten path and further into the woods. The only thing that keeps you from feeling more nervous is the moon shining overhead, illuminating your path. It feels almost like a friend is with you.

“Here is good,” Toji says, stopping at a clearing. 

“It’s so pretty,” you breathe out, dazzled. This deep into the woods, fireflies are lighting your way. Beneath your feet, a springy bed of flowers and moss covers the floor. 

“What can I say? I’m a romantic.” 

“Yeah, right,” you laugh at him, but you draw closer. You think you could trust him. You think you could be partners with him. 

Then Toji grabs you by the shoulders and dangles you off the edge of the clearing, over a steep drop you hadn’t noticed. The sharp cut off had been hidden by flowers, danger painted over with beauty. 

“Sorry, kid,” Toji says. “No hard feelings, right?” 

“Why?” You whisper. Gojo had been right. 

“There’s a bounty on your head,” he says. “Getou has offered to grant the wish of anyone who kills you.”

His eyes turn wistful. “I have a kid. Haven’t seen him in years. You understand, right? It’s not personal.” 

The fall is brutal. The wind whips tears into your eyes, if you weren’t already crying from the fear of falling to your death. You have to do something, anything. Above your head, something white flutters. 

A dove? 

Then another. 

It’s one of the paper ofuda Megumi had given you before you left, caught in the updraft of you rushing down to earth. You snatch it out of the air. You can’t reach the pen in your pocket. With increasing desperation, you bite down on your finger hard enough to draw blood and trace the characters for a tree branch onto it. Holding it aloft, you pray. 

Between your hands, wood solidifies. You’re clinging to a scrap of a twig sprouting from the rocky cliffside. Megumi’s words echo in your head - only within the scope of your power. 

So this is it, huh?

That’s all there is of your godly strength. 

“Looks like you’re in trouble,” Gojo says. He has no problem balancing on the sheer cliff. His appearance is impeccable, completely unscathed from his fight with Sukuna. He perches like a bird, as comfortable as if he were standing on solid ground. “Do you need help?”

Thank god. He’s here to save you! You nod, turning teary eyes on him. You were wrong about him. Gojo really is a good guy, deep down. 

“If you say, ‘Please save me, Gojo-sama, I was stupid.’ I’ll help you. Throw in some crying and begging, too.” 

Your eyes dry up instantly. He’s a total bastard. You clutch onto the branch tighter. There’s no way you’ll give him the satisfaction of groveling for help. 

Your resolve weakens when you hear the first snap. 

“Time’s ticking,” Gojo calls in a sing-song voice. “What will it be?” 

The harder you hold on, the more your flimsy branch breaks. 

“Come on,” Gojo says. “It’s not that hard. It’s just seven little words. Isn’t that worth your life?”

“Go fuck yourself,” you tell him, and the branch finally snaps. 

Falling for the second time is just as bad as the first time. The icy wind snatches at you like claws, tearing at your clothes. 

To your surprise, Gojo leaps after you. He makes free-fall look elegant - surely a far cry from whatever you’re doing. 

“Just say it,” he yells, within arm’s reach. He’s so close he could snag you by the shirt and haul you to safety, but you know he won’t. Not without getting what he wants. “Would you rather die than just apologize?” 

You have an answer prepared. 

His eyes widen in shock when you press your palms to his cheek, pull him closer, and kiss him. 

You barely have time to register the taste of him, sake and something sweet, before the reality of falling to your death rushes in again. 

“Gojo, save me!” 

As if his body is piloted by someone else, Gojo catches you. For him, it’s a short leap back up to the top of the clearing, where Toji has disappeared. 

You climb down from his hold once you’re certain you’re safe. You never thought you’d miss the feeling of solid ground beneath your feet this much, but at the moment, you’re willing to kiss the earth. 

Gojo seems much worse off. He’s frozen in shock, muttering the same refrain to himself under his breath. “Me? Bound to her? Impossible.” 

“Let’s go home,” you tell him. He doesn’t seem to get it until you tug him towards the path, and then he leads the way wordlessly. . 

You wake to Megumi and Tsumiki weeping over you. 

“I’m alright!”

They freeze, then burst into fresh tears. 

“We thought you would never wake up! Your first time using ofuda must have been too much for you,” Megumi gets out through his sobs. 

You feel sore all over. You can barely recall the events of the previous night, only that you kissed- 

“Finally up?” 

Gojo’s tapping his foot as he waits for you to get up. He looks furious. There’s an unmistakeable tick in his jaw that spells trouble for you. 

It’s too early to deal with him. You duck back under the covers. 

“Oh no you don’t,” he growls out as he seizes your wrist and bodily hauls you out of your warm cocoon of blankets. “You wanted to be a god, you’re going to be a god. It’s time for some training.” 

You shiver pathetically in the cold morning air. If you had known helping a stranger would lead to be harassed by a fox spirit, you would’ve never done it in the first place. 

“Try harder,” Gojo says at your sixth failed attempt to turn water into wine. 

“It smells alcoholic,” Megumi offers loyally. 

“I am trying!” You insist. 

“Harder,” Gojo snarls. 

The seventh attempt doesn’t change. Gojo throws up his arms and stalks out of the shrine, declaring the need to cool his head. Tsumiki frantically trails him, not trusting him to not attempt to run away again. 

Megumi tries to assure you that you’re doing well, but honestly, you need to leave too. The shrine feels too stuffy. A change of scenery will do you good. Sitting alone in the woods just behind the shrine, you try to focus. Slowly, stacks of ofuda disappear from your hands as you paste them to trees, willing them to blossom. Wilt. Do anything, anything at all. 

You’re out cold when Gojo finds you. 

“Divine power takes time,” he says as he prepares dinner. “Use too many talismans at once and you’ll pass out.” 

You drink a spoonful of soup morosely. “How do I get stronger?” 

“You’ll get stronger if you grant prayers.” 

Tsumiki perks up. “One just came in!” 

“I already looked at it,” Gojo says dismissively. “Not that one.” 

“Everyone’s wishes deserve to be looked at,” you argue. 

Gojo scoffs, “Not this one.” 

“Don’t be rude! A god can’t pick and choose.” 

He tosses the prayer at you. 

Morimoto Rika’s request touches your heart. She’s the spirit of a nearby lake - not just any spirit, as Megumi helpfully clarifies, but another owner of a shrine. A human boy visits her waters nightly. By the light of the moonlight, she fell in love with him, but she can’t meet him because they live in two separate worlds. 

And to think that you would’ve never known to help her if Gojo had continued keeping this from you. 

“This sounds like the perfect job for me,” you argue. 

“Don’t be ridiculous. Yokai can’t fall in love with humans.” 

You narrow your eyes at him. “Aren’t you bound to do as I say? Take me to her.” 

Against his will, Gojo summons what’s called a ‘night fog coach’. Only operable at night, as the name suggests, it’s a tall black carriage truly made for a god. You’re just wondering how Gojo expects you to climb aboard when he effortlessly lifts you by the waist. 

“You’re the one who wanted to go meet her,” he sneers. “Chop-chop.” 

Your supplicant looks like a fish if it were a girl. She has pale green skin and large, black eyes, with overly large teeth for her mouth. Black hair frames a heart shaped face. She’s cute, in her own monstrous way. And she’s desperately in love with a human boy. 

Gojo helps you transform her into a human body and make her over into a normal teenage girl. For a prayer granted, it feels like nothing more than dressing your friend up for a date. 

You’re even as nosy as you would be in that situation. It’s the first prayer you’ve ever granted. You know you shouldn’t, but you and Gojo watch the burgeoning romance from a distance. Of course, he’s completely disapproving, but you have high hopes for them - until Rika pulls out a ring. 

Aren’t they moving a little too fast? 

It only gets worse when Rika confesses that she’s been stalking him - sort of. Keeping tabs on him for his safety by following him around town is a little too close to the other, for your liking. Your head drops into your hands. 

But Yuta takes it surprisingly well. A little too well, in fact. It only seems to infatuate him even more. You knew there were certain types of men out there who loved crazy, but you had never seen it in real life - until now. 

Could this even be counted as a success? 

You’re happy for Rika and Yuta, as happy as you can be for their twisted little union, but you’re just waiting for Gojo to bite your head off for bringing a (real) monster and a human together as soon as you get back home. At least they’re happy, you think ruefully. Worse things could happen. Your first union as a marriage god didn’t fail. In fact, of all people, Yuta seemed the most likely in the world to accept Rika as she was, human or not. 

To your surprise, returning to the shrine, Gojo begrudgingly says, “You did well.” 

Any warm feelings you have for him the next day are replaced when he barges into your room and demands you strip. 

“You have guests,” he says. “Messengers from Toji-sama, the god of the wind.” 

Your eyes grow wide. You hadn’t known Toji was a god. Come to think of it, did Gojo even know the reason why you had been falling from that cliff? You weren’t sure if he had come in time to see who had pushed you. 

“What are you worried about? I’ll be at your side the whole time.” 

You’ll tell him later. Right now, you have a serious matter to prepare for. 

You tried not to discriminate on the basis of his master, but it’s not that at all. Toji’s familiar, Naoya, is simply annoying on his own terms. 

“So you’re the new god of this ramshackle little shrine,” he sniffs. “God, it’s disgusting. How poor are you?” 

“You must be the thirteenth familiar Toji’s owned. He goes through you like toys, doesn’t he? Of course you wouldn’t know that he used to live in worse conditions before. Deplorable.” Gojo laughs in his face. 

Naoya grits his teeth. “I’m surprised your little human dared to show her face. I thought she’d be terrified after what Toji did to her. They’re such weak little things.” 

Gojo looks at the other demon with a calm that worries you. As human as he is, there are moments when you can catch the monster lurking within. He’s like the sea, deceptively calm until you remember the threat of an unseen riptide. 

“If you insult my master again,” he says carefully, enunciating every word like he’s stabbing at them with a knife, “I will take your head and deliver it to your master as a present.” 

“Don’t tell me you’re happy to be serving a mortal girl,” Naoya laughs. “Not someone like you, Satoru. How the mighty have fallen.” 

Gojo looks at him for a long moment, then he ignores him completely and walks to your side. The most painful part of Naoya’s digs at you is knowing he’s right. Gojo doesn’t like this. How could he? He went from being the strongest to being commanded by some powerless girl. Still, Gojo gazes at you with his inscrutable eyes. You can’t read him at all. 

Slowly, he sinks to his knees next to you. 

With a gentleness you can hardly bear, he lays his head in your lap, as gentle and docile as a puppy. His neck is bared as if for an executioner’s axe, the delicate pulse of his heart open to you. He closes his eyes. His breath is shallow. He stays there, and says no more. 

“Oh, Satoru,” Naoya says in delight. “You really have become a tamed thing.” 

With an uncertainty you’re trying to hide, you lift your hands to Gojo’s head. His hair is sinfully soft. You’re almost scared he’ll try to take your hands off for it, but when you start to gently pet his hair, he almost purrs. His eyes close, half-lidded in pleasure. 

“I serve who I want to serve,” Gojo says. His tail lashes behind him. “Who are you to tell me my master is unworthy?” 

Naoya shrugs, clearly disbelieving. “Sure, Satoru. Keep telling yourself that. I’m just here to deliver a gift.” 

He tosses you a package wrapped carefully in beautiful, ornate wrapping paper. You’re sure it’s not Toji’s doing. He’s not the type. 

As soon as he leaves, Gojo pushes himself away from you. It leaves you a little sorrowful, the speed with which he tries to get away. He only did it for your sake, you know. He wanted to protect your honor in front of Naoya because you’re his master. But it must have disgusted him, to get on his knees for a human, if he recoiled so fast. 

“What did he mean, what Toji did to you?” Gojo asks over dinner. 

You know instantly that you’ll only draw his ire if you try to play dumb. 

“Toji pushed me off that cliff the day you found me.” 

Gojo’s eyes darken. The next time Naoya returns, he promises you, he’d set his tail on fire. No one besmirches his master’s honor like that. 

It’s about honor, of course. You’d be a fool to think otherwise. 

Alone in your chambers, you unwrap the package Naoya gave you. It’s an incense burner, beautiful and silver. As apology presents go, it’s a decent one. You set it aside for use at a later time. 

Naoya’s visit only makes Gojo’s training worse, but these days, you’ve grown used to him and his harsh words. The more that he yells at you for being weak, the more you can brush it off as Gojo just being Gojo. That only irritates him more, of course. 

But nothing pisses him off as much as you claiming that you’re returning to school. Gojo thinks that you have no need for school as a god. There’s nothing the humans can teach you that he can’t. 

In your eyes, Gojo is a kitsune. That means he’ll never understand a teenage girl’s heart. School isn’t about learning, it’s about the experience! You’ll never be in high school again - there are so many things you still haven’t experienced, like school trips. You only have one youth - you have to seize it in the moment! 

Gojo isn’t convinced. 

Like an overbearing parent, he nags you all day and night until finally, you strike a deal. He’ll let you go to school, but only as long as you cover up the god-mark on your head. Gojo is never one to make things easy for you. The hat he bestows you with is an ugly grandma print with faux fox ears. You’ll be the laughingstock of the school!

“It’s dangerous,” he says. “Who knows what wild beasts will be lurking about?” 

“You’re the wild beast,” you say. “I can’t wear that!” 

“I guess you can’t go to school then,” he sighs. “What a pity.” 

It’s all for show, of course. You know what he’s really like. There’s no use in arguing - either you agree to his compromise or you stay here, stuck in the temple for the rest of your life. You’ll miss out on all the joys of youth, never growing old in your cloistered shrine. The thought is unbearable. 

You snatch the hat from him in indignation. Putting it on before you leave the next day makes you cringe, but as long as you avoid mirrors, you can almost forget that it’s there - if not for your classmates staring at you. You can feel their judging eyes everywhere you go, and the whispers. 

You can’t even say you don’t care - you do care. You only have one high school life, and Gojo is ruining it. During lunch, you escape into the bathroom to mope and avoid all of your classmates. 

“Are you getting bullied?” Gojo’s voice is too bright and cheery for your dark mood right now. You can’t promise to remain calm if he stays here. 

“This is the girl’s bathroom, Gojo.” 

“Don’t be like that. I’m just worried about my master,” he says. “Well? How is it? Do you want to go home now?” 

He’s lying. You know he’s not worried about you at all, but you should be used to it. You don’t know why it stings as much as it does. 

You’re hurt even though you know this is just how Gojo is. Of course he’d be happy to see you miserable - he hadn’t even wanted you for a god in the first place. He’s bound to you by obligation, and nothing more. You had known from the start that he didn’t care about you, so why does it hurt that he won’t comfort you? It’s just like those nights in the demon world that seem so long ago now. He hasn’t changed at all. 

Gojo isn’t as shocked by your outburst as he is by the tears slowly welling up in your eyes. He stands stunned as you rush out of him and back into the hallway. 

Tsumiki appears next to him out of thin air, completely unimpressed. 

“You did a terrible job on that one, Gojo.” 

As if in a daze, he lifts his hand, where the crystal of one teardrop shines. He’d tried to reach for you at the last moment, but you were already gone. “I made her cry...” 

Megumi appears next to Tsumiki, his face red. “What’s taking so long? Hurry up and leave! We’re in the girl’s bathroom!” 

“Gojo was bullying our master,” Tsumiki announces. 

“I wasn’t bullying her!” 

“He made her cry.” 

Gojo winces. “Okay, yeah. I did do that.”

Megumi kicks him in the leg, which amounts to almost nothing. “Take responsibility, then!” 

When you return home, Gojo is waiting by the shrine door with an almost offensively polite smile on his face. “Let me take your coat, master.” 

Him being kind gives you the creeps. You can’t help but feel like he’s planning something, especially when he shows you the lavish dinner he prepared for you with all of your favorites. 

“What’s with the look?” He says, annoyed at your accusing eyes peering at him over your bowl. “I do something nice for you and this is how you treat me?” 

“This is really just for me? No ulterior motives?” 

“None,” he promises. 

The smile that breaks over your face is like the sun through rain clouds - sudden, dramatic, and almost painfully bright after a period of gray skies. 

“Thanks, Gojo!” 

The look in his eyes is unreadable as he reaches to spoon more food onto your plate. 

You don’t have anyone else in this world. Besides the shrine spirits, Gojo might be the only person in the world who will take care of you. For some reason, the thought doesn’t sting as much as it did this morning. 

The second day of school starts with pouring rain, as if it’s a direct reaction to your foul mood earlier. Gojo pulls you back when you try to leave. 

“It’s a bad omen,” he says. “Stay home with me today. I’ll worry about you if you go.” 

Normally, such sweet words might bring a blush to your face, but you can read between the lines. 

Stay home with me today so I can keep you out of trouble, you brat. 

I’ll worry about you if you go because you’re weaker than a worm. 

“Stop trying to keep me from going to school! I thought we got over this yesterday,” you huff. “I’m going to be late for the bus!” 

You leave Gojo with a handful of air as you dart under his outstretched arm and out the door. 

In school, all your classmates are listless. 

You’ve never been so unhappy to not be the subject of attention. What is wrong with everyone? Even the teacher doesn’t reprimand anyone for sleeping in class, half-asleep herself. You’re the only one who doesn’t seem to be caught in this spell of drowsiness, which insinuates paranormal origins. 

As you’re sweeping the classroom after class, one of your classmates lets out a disgruntled noise. 

“It’s a snake,” she says, not at all with the intonation of someone who’s just discovered a snake. Ami’s the type to go apoplectic at the sight of a fly, much less an actual snake, so you don’t pay much mind until you hear Kurama go, “Huh, she wasn’t kidding.” 

There’s a little yellow snake in the classroom. In their stupor, none of your classmates seem to care all that much about it. They just continue going about their chores. You feel bad for it. It’s such a small, fragile little creature. In their state, they might accidentally end up crushing it. 

With gentle murmurs of encouragement, you coax it into your hand. It’s surprisingly docile and twines itself readily around your wrist before you set it outside the window to be set free. 

Gojo doesn’t praise you for your act of heroism on the behalf of his fellow yokai, as you remind him. You saved his compatriots! Where’s the gratitude? 

He calls you a stupid little girl. “I don’t care about them, I care about you!” 

Your face warms with embarrassment against your will even though you know he doesn’t mean it like that. Time and time again, Gojo has stressed that he will never see yokai and humans as even remotely on the same playing field, much less capable of being romantic partners. 

“You’re my master,” he says. There’s your call back to reality. “Look at this mark on your wrist.” 

It appears like a normal bruise to you, though you’re not sure how it could’ve happened. Your new snake friend was very gentle when he was coiled around your wrist. He must have been someone’s escaped pet. You hope he found his way back home. 

Gojo’s mad. He’s enunciating every word. 

“This is exactly why I have to keep such a close eye on you. That’s no ordinary bruise. That is an engagement mark. Care to explain to me how I left you alone for one second and you got yourself engaged to a divine beast?” 

Your face pales. “Excuse me?” 

“That snake is going to come and claim you as his bride.” 

“As a bride?” Your head spins and you have to sit down. You’re too young to get married. You look up at Gojo, teary-eyed. You don’t want this. 

“Stop making that face,” he snaps, pushing a hand over your face to hide it. “As if I would let that happen. The master of the Yaga shrine, my master, could never be wed to a mere snake.” 

If Gojo says he won’t let it happen, you can put your faith in him. You breathe a little easier. As mean as he can be, Megumi and Tsumiki weren’t lying when they called him the best familiar. He’s the strongest and most capable person or rather, yokai, that you know. There’s not a single task you set for him that he hasn’t been able to complete. 

It’s still raining when you go outside to practice your talisman making. 

You find the weather quite pleasant, even though it’s a little damp. The chill in the air cuts through the muggy feeling of summer, and the raindrops cool your cheeks. When you turn your face up to the sky, you can taste ozone in the little drops that pelt your face. 

“You’re very beautiful, kamisama,” says a voice. 

There's a man waiting just outside the red gates. A supplicant? In this weather? You better get him inside in a hurry. You dash over to him. 

“What are you doing? Come inside, you’ll get wet!” 

Just as you reach him, he lifts his face. He looks like a statue, with high cheekbones, and solemn eyes. His hair is the same pale yellow as the snake you saw earlier that day-

“Gojo!” 

But it’s too late. 

The snake has a hold on your wrist, right above the engagement mark. He takes you away. 

One moment, you’re standing in your own backyard, the next, you’re surrounded by almost-familiar bamboo walls. It looks like your shrine but for little distinguishing touches. That makes you uncomfortable. 

“This is Haibara shrine,” the snake says. “I’m Nanami, the familiar of Haibara-sama. I’ve taken you away to marry you.” 

There’s a curtain over the center of the room. Haibara presumably rests behind it, but something strikes you as off about the whole scenario. That’s not what’s foremost on your mind, however. 

“I don’t want to marry you! You kidnapped me!” 

He tilts his head at you. “I couldn’t have kidnapped you. We’re engaged, you see?” He traces the mark on your wrist with one slim finger. “We’re going to be very happy together.” 

“You’re being creepy,” you push him away. 

At your rejection, something dark crosses over his features - not danger, but pain. He has some nerve feeling upset when you’re the one who should be upset here! 

“That’s alright,” he says, trying to stroke your hair. You won’t let him touch you. “I know it can take some getting used to. Here, let me show you to your room.” 

Nanami has clearly put a lot of thought into decorating for you. It’s beautifully furnished, with rich silk sheets and the fragrant smell of plum blossoms permeating the air. Here, there’s not a single thing you could want but- 

Gojo. 

You miss Gojo and you miss your shrine. 

When Nanami leaves you in your room, it feels like a tomb in the silence. You bury your face in your expensive, hateful sheets and try to resist the urge to sob. You want Gojo to come get you. You want to go home. 

Hours pass, but Gojo doesn’t come. 

Nothing but the sound of your breathing changes, passing from frantic to deeper, slower, steadier. As your head clears, you notice the window. It’s a beautifully ornate design, a red knot of luck. The center is just big enough for a girl to squeeze through, if you try hard. 

Resolve grips you. 

You’re not going to wait for Gojo to rescue you. You’re going to get out of here yourself, find him, and scold him for not coming to get you earlier. Aren’t you his most beloved master, as he so professes? You’re going to make him kneel for at least three hours practicing his apologies! 

Filled with renewed conviction, you hoist yourself onto the window sill and begin the tedious task of shimmying yourself out. Just when you’re nearly there, the sharp edge of the metal scrapes your shin, leaving a long, thin cut. 

The smell of salt replaces the plums immediately. 

“God?” Comes Nanami’s voice. “I smell blood. Are you alright?” 

“I’m fine!” You panic. If he discovers your escape attempt now, he might try to put you in a more secure room, and then you’ll really never see Gojo again. 

The adjacent wall caves in. 

Gojo stands in the rubble, seething, each hand wreathed in blue flame. He doesn’t even notice you, his attention wholly focused on Nanami. “You drew her blood? Are you prepared to face the consequences of hurting my master, snake?” 

You grab his arm just before he attacks. “He didn’t! I hurt myself on the window- oof!” 

Gojo’s so much bigger than you are. When he folds you into his arms, his entire body surrounds you. His chin tucks itself over your head, his large arms wrap around your body. You’ve never felt more secure than you are here, now. “I thought you’d be crying.”

His voice is hoarse. 

You’ve never heard that before. 

“You came,” you whimper, burying your face into his shoulder.  

Nanami’s face is crestfallen. “Are you going to leave me?” 

You grab Gojo’s arm and duck into the other room, where Haibara’s curtain is. 

“Don’t!” Nanami cries. 

When you pull it back, there’s nothing but an old, dusty kimono. 

You were right. 

This place is godless. 

“You’re no familiar,” Gojo snarls, turning on Nanami. “Don’t even think to call yourself that. The difference between you and me is as clear as day, you vile beast. You’ll pay for your insolence with the loss of your shrine.” 

Nanami’s misery is written all over his face. You’ve realized what’s wrong with this shrine. It’s too quiet, as if no one has prayed here for generations. Haibara has been dead for a long, long time.

Nanami must have been lonely. 

“Don’t,” you tell Gojo.

He stares at you, incredulous. “Are you out of your mind?” 

You tug yourself out of Gojo’s arms. Nanami’s crouched on the ground, trying to shield Haibara’s old kimono from Gojo’s foxfire. You kneel to his level. 

“I’m sorry you’ve been lonely for all this time, Nanami. I can’t stay with you, but if you come to my shrine, we can play again.” 

Nanami weeps and reaches for your hand. The mark of the snake dissolves. 

Gojo doesn’t talk to you on the way back to the shrine.

“Don’t be mad,” you say, tugging on the sleeves of his kimono. He gives you a deadpan stare. “Come on! I only did it because-” 

You can’t finish your sentence. 

Of course, that piques Gojo’s interest. He can never resist bullying you. 

“Because? Go on,” he goads you. 

You say it so quietly he can’t hear you, even with his fox ears. He spins around, grabs you by the waist, and hoists you up so you’re face to face. You yelp and scramble to grab onto his shoulders for balance. 

“Louder,” he demands. “I can’t hear you.” 

“I was thinking about what would happen if I died and you were all alone again. I couldn’t leave him alone because I was thinking of you,” you tell him. Thinking of Gojo watching after an empty shrine all alone like Mizuki makes your heart ache for reasons you can’t explain. 

He stiffens. “What a strange thing to worry about. I wouldn’t care.” 

“Ugh,” you smack him in the shoulder. You shouldn't have tried to be kind to him. 

He doesn’t put you down, shifting you into an easier hold. “You’re hurt,” he admonishes when you try to squirm. 

Just before you enter the shrine gates, he has a confession of his own to make. “I’m sorry,” he says. “You got hurt because I wasn’t protecting you.” 

You rub his ears, an indulgence you’re not sure he would’ve allowed if he wasn’t in such a mood. “It’s not your fault!” 

“I’ve never had a human master,” he says. “I have to be careful not to break you. You’re so easily hurt.” 

“You don’t have to say it like that,” you say, and then the shrine spirits are there to welcome you home. 

You hadn’t realized you thought of the shrine as home until today. 

Even though Nanami’s mood isn’t affecting the weather anymore, it’s still raining. Gojo tells you not to mind the weather, even though you’re certain that it’s not from natural causes, which means it is your job. Ever since you came back from Haibara’s shrine, Gojo has been extra protective of you. 

You hadn’t thought Gojo had needed to be protected too, not until the thunder god came. 

The god of storms and lightning is called Getou Suguru. He carries a mallet in one hand that can transform whoever it touches into their younger forms, and he used to be Gojo’s best and only friend. He’s also the one who called a bounty on your head.