#i hate that i have to say that last part but sometimes people get so angy at me for just. vibing

[elljayvee]

I loved this show when it was in first run, for reasons I (a baby bisexual) did not understand at the time. I adored Michael & Joey's relationship. Looking back on it as an adult, part of what I liked was that it (almost certainly unintentionally) casually depicted bisexuality and aromanticism, and also part of what I liked was that it also (...probably more intentionally) depicted a world with much lower homophobia and missing the AIDS crisis.

You're supposed to read Michael & Joey's relationship with each other as a couple in some ways, but not in others. They're practically married (the show makes this point several times, most clearly in "Joey's Mother-in-Law"), but they're (probably) not having sex: they're having sex with women, but they're Super Weird about it -- this is partly Sitcom, partly Dated Sexist Nonsense, but also partly Inherent To This Particular Family Setup. It ends up feeling to me very much like two men who aren't...really...sure how to deal with feelings for each other that are sexual/possibly romantic when they clearly feel attraction to women. Do you know how many bisexuals go through this. For years. For decades. Sometimes I, a bisexual who has been out since the 1990s, ask myself if I am "really" bi. It's a fucking brainworm that so many of us have. This show, in its own way, laid that problem out before me as if someone out there understood it.

As for the aromanticism, Joey says in the pilot that Marcy is the last woman he loved. He has a whole relationship with a different woman not because he loves her but because he wants to dad her kid. This man is sexually, but largely not romantically, attracted to women. (Is he in love with Michael romantically? I don't know! Maybe! He's definitely in Kinda Obsessed with Michael, though.)

And then....it's in a kinder, gentler, less homophobic world where no one is dying. And that's....almost certainly just a product of it being a sitcom from the 1980s. You weren't going to address those topics in a sitcom about "what if the Odd Couple had to raise a kid lol", but as a result, for me, I get a combo of Powerful Nostalgia Bomb and Everything is Beautiful And Nothing Hurts from this show. It's not that other characters don't react to two men raising a kid together, because they do -- but mostly they are a little puzzled about it. No one is hateful. No one attacks them over it. The only times that judgement of the relationship is more than a passing event ("Joey's Mother-in-Law" is yet again an example), the person being weird about it is dealt with firmly and clearly.

It has its flaws (....1980s sitcom....) but oh. it has its joys.

(I refuse to acknowledge the final episode, though: it's up there with HIMYM for betraying the show before it. I'm convinced that was the network just being like "well. we can't have the show's finale be. they continue to live together." in my heart they continue to live together. they don't talk about it ever until Nicole leaves for college and then they both panic and agree obviously. they can't split up. where will Nicole go for winter break if Michael moves out? Joey panics and has sex with way too many people about it while drawing 3 million pictures of Michael in his sketchbook. Michael dates like normal but feels weirdly sad every time he kisses his dates. It's fine. It's all fine. Nicole comes home for Thanksgiving and is like. Dads. What is up?? Joey's art is depressing and Michael is working 80 hour weeks? Maybe you two should get a dog. Three weeks later Joey comes home with a three-legged golden retriever and Michael has a sobbing breakdown into its fur and falls asleep in Joey's bed. No they do not get it together after this, they are both disaster bisexuals, this goes on for SEVERAL more years.)

“My Two Dads” was Simply Ahead of its Time: A Short Essay by an Offspring of Same-Sex Parents

In 1987, the show “My Two Dads” premiered on NBC, staring Paul Reiser, Greg Evigan, Staci Keanan, and Florence Stanley. Nicole Bradford (Keanan) is a 12-year-old girl whose mother Marcy Bradford dies suddenly, and she is “willed” more or less to two men her mother was once in love with, Michael Taylor (Reiser) and Joey Harris (Evigan), who were lifelong friends before they fought over Nicole’s mother. Despite attempts at blood tests, the paternity of the child was never confirmed, and after a rocky start, Michael and Joey agree to live together and raise Nicole as a family.

What we have here is a simple, relatively family friendly, prime-time sitcom that shows a very positive interpretation of a kid with same-sex parents. And it is delightful.

I am speaking openly as a queer person raised by two mothers (now four w/step-moms). When I decided to try this, I was bracing myself for the absolute worst most offensive thing I’d ever seen.

And I swear to God, what I got instead is one of my new favorite shows of all time. The characters are lovable and well-rounded, the acting is great, the humor is actually funny, and, whether this was intentional or not, is one of the most progressive shows of its time.

I keep seeing people throwing around the word “homophobic” with this show, and I’m here to politely and firmly disagree with that. Instead, I will opt for the word “dated.” “My Two Dads” was still a product of its time, so I firmly believe many of the choices regarding Joey and Michael’s dating life were made to appease the censors. I never felt like any decision was made in malice to target the queer community. (Not to mention, I could/will make a whole LIST of reasons why Michael and Joey are 100% in love, if not an active couple, despite many attempts to convince the audience they are straight.)

I spent a good chunk of the show laughing to myself and saying “it’s like homosexuality doesn’t even exist in this universe” for how much NOBODY cares about Nicole having two dads or questioning why the dads live together. (Them being potentially gay is only questioned ONCE in the series.)

In the 90s and early 2000s, people never shut up with the questions once I told them I had two moms. I somewhat think this exclusion was also a writing tactic, not wanting Nicole to have to constantly repeat what the audience already knows.

There are jokes that haven’t aged amazingly well, but I feel like it was much more that the writers were ignorant as opposed to being active bigots.

I also really appreciated this show’s depiction of a kid who has a great and loving relationship with a parent she may not be or isn’t biologically related to. Nicole doesn’t care who her biological father is, and loves Joey and Michael equally. Again, as someone with two moms, I get really defensive over the notion that someone isn’t your real parent unless their DNA matches yours. (Side note, always say “biologically related to” as opposed to “REAL parent” whenever asking someone about their parentage. Please. It hurts every time.)

If I admittedly had one qualm about the show, I’d say it hasn’t aged amazing in terms of sexism. Throughout the whole show, it always felt like the women Michael and Joey dated were either complete jerks or bimbos. With the women they finally end up with being boring and rushed. And they also at one point have a female boss, and…it’s pretty bad. Nicole and Judge Margaret were great (Judge being my 2nd favorite character, behind Michael.), but other female characters not so much.

But overall, I really do love this show. It’s one of those really nice warm & fuzzy shows, too (Think “Full House” with slightly funnier writing. Yeah, I said it!). I really wish more queer viewers would try it.

[velvetvexations]

"Trans women are women" used to be seen as this radical stance, a stance against the exceedingly popular standrd cis belief of "trans women are men" Now we're expected to believe that whole push was a lie? That "trans women are spicy women" is a belief that transmisogynists have? Transmisogynists?? The ones adamant about misgendering trans women as men? That's been their whole thing in fact...? They believe trans women are women and hate THAT?

They're just lying because it's fun to be mean to women. Such is the true beliefs of TRFs.

I wish I could submit a Patrick's wallet meme to you on anon because I swear every trf argument I see about how trans people are TOTALLY seen as our actual genders by cishet society really does feel like: "Terfs keeps creaming about how much they despise men and manly features, going so far as calling features usually belonging to people AMAB disgusting in great detail be they on women or men, correct?" "Yep." "And they talk in depth about how testosterone is poison and will turn you into a monster, correct?" "Uh-huh." "They speak regularly of how even male infants are evil, and cisgender lesbian separatism is the only way for women to be safe, you've noticed?" "They sure do." "And it's not just terfs either - plenty of transphobic talking heads otherwise all over the political spectrum conceptualize trans people as people 'pretending' to be the 'opposite' gender, as I'm sure you've seen?" "Yeah, I'm real sick of it." "So you understand, then, that much of the idea that trans women are an immediate physical threat to 'real' women and to straight men - the driver of arguably the majority of transmisogynistic violence - is based in misgendering?" "STOP CALLING TRANS WOMEN MEN AND STOP TRYING TO PRETEND MEN ARE OPPRESSED!!!1!!1!1 THEY'RE LYING ABOUT THEIR BELIEFS OR ELSE THEY WOULDN'T HAVE TREATED ME LIKE A FAGGOT BEFORE I CAME OUT, WHICH IS A FATE THAT HAS NEVER BEFALLEN A SINGLE MAN EVER!!!11!11!" ...come to think of it, do you think that last line is part of why so damned many of them are so determined to "crack the egg" of every GNC man or nonbinary person AMAB that they see? To prove that this kind of hatred is ONLY aimed at trans women and that proves their ~essential soul gender~ is real? Because honestly, fucking weak and pathetic.

kinna but that's mostly because they are just genuinely toxic whenever they see a man who could be a woman instead e.g. every crossdressing subculture

it's incredible that 'transphobes don't see trans women as women and they don't see trans men as men' is a controversial take now. what in the fuck is going on

unhealthy validation addiction

fellas, is it transphobic to acknowledge that transphobes are transphobic?

literally

The thing that bothers me the most about trfs is just how online they are, and I don't mean that to say they're harmless - I mean the opposite. I grew up in a VERY isolated neighborhood. I knew all of 2 other queer people in town. There certainly weren't hangouts for us. The nearest largeish city was a 3-hour, $100 round trip away - and that was also the closest other city-town-thing, at all. Going outside to meet queer community was NOT an option for me. What did I have? Why, I had the internet! As an adult I ended up moving to a relatively-nearby city. I also ended up being pretty badly disabled. Now I have access to outside queer gathering places...sort of. When I have the energy to go. Which isn't that often, and sometimes my choices of where to go are further limited because a lot of these things are in historical buildings with ADA exemptions so I can't actually get in the door in my wheelchair; I have to save those ones for the best of days. But the internet is still there for me! And no, offline queer spaces aren't utopian, you can still meet some REAL pieces of work there, the internet didn't INVENT exclusionist discourse - my (later admitted heterosexual!) mother had a whole stint as a political lesbian before the internet existed, so I know that from far too intimate experience - but the behavior there does usually seem to be tempered by 1) seeing as obviously as possible that the person you're talking to is a human being, not a disembodied source of words from the ether or a chatbot or whatever, and 2) being way more likely to get caught and thrown out and have the proprietor side against you if you start a fight. So who does this vile bigoted shit disguised as liberatory feminism affect the most? People who don't HAVE anywhere else to go, regularly or at all. Thanks, I fucking hate it.

Yeah. I'm completely alone out here and it sucks. People who don't have community need it the most.

tw for discussion of misogynistic hate crimes and things of that nature that happens in countries outside the global west it is SO glaringly obvious that the people in this stupid trans discourse are largely privileged and from western countries because they don’t think at ALL about people from other countries the trans woman in the middle east who can leave the country due to being AMAB is, in fact, more privileged than the trans man who can’t leave at all because he was AFAB and needs a man’s permission the trans women who aren’t being sold off as child brides ARE more privileged than the trans men who are forced to marry at age 12 and have children right off the bat like it is not that fucking cut and dry. there are more methods of oppression than transmisogyny and western problems. having privilege is far more complicated than that. and to be honest, i don’t think being ‘tme’ is much of a privilege when you’re the person AFAB who’s been murdered in an honour killing

Yeah, there's always complexity but people are obsessed with a black and white view where there's universally one good group and one bad group. It's why tankies exist. Cannot fathom that the West is bad and also maybe North Korea at the same time.

That - lady's entire blog is just her shitting on the "wrong" type of transgender person. Once again, people in our community are spending all their time infighting an attacking each other as opposed to actually fighting oppression. It's sad.

as ever

The fact that it’s now a cancellable offense to acknowledge that transphobes don’t see us as our actual gender(s) is so ridiculous I don’t even know what to say. I'm so sorry you consistently have people taking you in bad faith. This is one of the worst cases of wilful ignorance I’ve seen in a while. Seriously, I’m just dumbfounded. How the fuck did it get this bad?

this was sent right after I answered the anon mentioning a 'schism' so I'm assuming that's what it's in reference to specifically and dadgum it's more frustrating when it's people who should know better and have taken swings like this at me out of nowhere before

at least I know TRFs are going to TRF but it's exhausting having to deal with "so you're misgendering trans women??? the transandrophobia tag has officially become what it was always said to be!" from people in the same orbit, like disagree with me but can people please disagree with what I actually said before getting people apparently disavowing everyone involved in that thread?

and people have it rough sometimes and go through rough things and I feel for them going through rough things but that's not related to me so I'd appreciate not being swept into whatever other break is happening with other people who, again, aren't me

ppl be saying “to tmes it’s all genderfuck man in dress, until she asks you to respect her pronouns” like! i hate to break it to you but man in a dress isnt automatically a trans woman!!! that’s on you (general) for thinking that!!

they really fucking hate crossdressing men lmao and in fairness queer cis men have a lot of issues with misogyny but their identities are not mockeries of transfemininity and I need people to stop acting like it

ugh i hate that there are constantly posts in the transandrophobia tag that are like "well even though trans women are obviously more opressed and are totally right for hating us for our gender, could we maybe please have a word?? please we PROMISE we know we're evil for our male/afab privilege but just let us discuss our lesser issues a little bit" like omfg they're never gonna pick you

All of those people have me blocked lol.

[cassiebones]

What headcanons would you have for Alice or Jen in Agatha All Along? :)

Alice was a mama's girl despite their difficult relationship. Her mother was much better at showing her love for Alice than Evanora was at showing hers (if there ever was any love for Agatha) but she focused so much on breaking a curse that Alice was certain was never actually real. Alice still craved her attention, always proud to show her something she made or playing her a new song that she learned.

Alice is not a morning person. She was the one who signed up for graveyard shifts as a cop. She thrived on late nights, the moon giving her more energy. She was always happy to take somebody's late night shifts for them. She sometimes had to work mornings, which made her long for the sweet release of Death.

Despite her moody, edgy style, she needs a crap ton of sugar in her coffee. She cannot drink it black like her co-workers always did. They teased her for this, but she was fine with her Cinnamon Dolce lattes, thank you very much.

That tattoo was not her mother's idea, originally. Alice saw her mother stressing out over the curse and looked up ways that she could protect herself in a more permanent way than wearing a necklace she may lose or something else like that. So she looked up the symbol and showed her mother, who didn't even hesitate to book her with a friend. Lorna held her hand the entire time, and Alice forced herself not to cry from the pain, trying to be brave for her mother.

Alice visited her mother's grave (which wasn't a real grave bc she didn't have enough of her mother to bury) on every major holiday, leaving flowers and crystals (because her mother believed in their power) and talking to her about how her life is going.

She had a cat, named Cheeto, who was the most orange cat you ever met. She loved him, though. She found him while working, when he was still a kitten. She fell in love with him immediately and brought him home with her after her shift ended. She told Jen about him before she died. Jen goes to her apartment after getting off The Road, and takes Cheeto home with her, honoring Alice in the only way she can.

Jen is almost the opposite of Alice.

She is a morning person. She likes to wake with the sun and do yoga and all that healthy shit. She has a brand to uphold, after all.

She does GRWM videos all the time, showing people what she puts in her organic smoothies (cutting out the part where she puts in protein powder that nobody can know she uses) and egg-white omelettes. She's a vegetarian onscreen only.

Again, it's her brand. Her last name is literally a vegetable (she makes cannibalism jokes when she adds kale to her smoothies).

She's always been openly bisexual and has several pieces of art that reflect that in her home. She laments about her dating life a lot online and has gotten several offers from her fans to be taken on dates. She almost always declines, but she's touched obviously by the interest.

She and Agatha had a situationship. Jen started to catch feelings, but Agatha was closed off emotionally because she was still hung up on Rio and the pain she'd caused. When Jen tried to get closer, Agatha pushed her away and was not nice about it. She figured it'd be easier if Jen hated her. Jen was definitely bitter, which is why she believed every bad thing that anybody had to say about Agatha, including that she traded away her own son for the Darkhold.

She bound herself, I think. I think Agatha was lying about having bound her in the 1920's. Not that I don't think she would have done that for money (she'd probably do it for shits and giggles tbh) but I don't think Agatha actually did it to Jen. I think Jen was so traumatized by the men who tried to bind her that she actually end up binding herself. She just convinced herself that it was them that bound her because it was the easier solution.

Jen genuinely loves hiking. It's the best way to unplug and just be herself for a little bit. She'll go to the nearest mountain and just walk for miles until she gets tired. She loves watching sunsets on these hikes. She also secretly loves camping because it reminds her of the years she had to spend living off the land as a younger witch.

She also really loves spas. She has a standing bi-weekly appointment at her local spa. She's a complicated person.

If Alice had lived, there's no doubt in my mind that she and Jen would have become a thing. Opposites attract and all that. They both have trauma, even if it's different kinds of trauma. I think they'd make a good pair.

Agatha would tease them and claim to be the reason they got together. She wouldn't exactly be wrong.

[ordinaryschmuck]

What I Quickly Thought About What If...? Season Three

Salutations, random people of the internet who are already scrolling past this! I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and comics and cartoons.

You know, it’s a LITTLE crazy to me that What If…? is one of the most hated MCU shows…and yet not that crazy at all. I kind of get it, this is a show that’s basically dumb fun where the writers play with the heroes and villains in the MCU like they’re action figures. If you’re looking for interesting ideas and concepts, you’ll SOMETIMES get it like with Doctor Strange destroying his universe to save his true love or Hela trying to figure out who she is other than a Goddess of Death..but the majority of the time, you’ll just get Thor being a party dude, Nebula going full Bladerunner, and a big buff lady punching a demon wizard in the face with the power of infinity–I will keep saying that until it stops sounding awesome.

What If…? is not a show for everyone. You need to be in the right mindset and the right kind of person to enjoy a show like this. Dumb fun only works if it matches what YOU consider to be dumb fun. As for me, though? I loved it. I enjoyed the hell out of Season One, I found Season Two to be a HUGE improvement, and I really looked forward to Season Three. It’s just a shame, though, that Season Three is the FINAL season…which makes no sense to me.

What If…? is a concept that could go on for MULTIPLE seasons, at least EIGHT for sure. I get that maybe animation is expensive or maybe we’re wrapping up this multiverse shit next year so we can move onto the X-Men, but COME ON! You can’t make a show about showing all the different possibilities in infinity and then just say, “That’s it. We only get three seasons.” It also puts a lot of unnecessary pressure in these last eight episodes. If this is a final season, then these need to be the best, brightest, most EPIC final What Ifs in the SERIES. The question is…are they? Well, let’s run through them. Though, keep in mind, we ARE gonna have to talk about spoilers. I'll TRY to keep the big things secret, but what's considered big anymore on the internet. I could say two characters kiss (They don't in this) and that'll be enough to drive people up the wall. So, to keep things safe...

Spoilers Ahead.

What If…The Hulk Fought The Mech Avengers?: Alright, so we have Avengers fighting giant Hulks in giant mech suits. I would definitely say we’re off to a good start…if not for the fact that it has pacing problems out the wazoo.

Yeah, poor pacing has ALWAYS been What If’s…? main issue. The show was originally intended to have forty-minute episodes, but got shaved down so the MCU needed to fill their quota for Disney and the company’s shoddy streaming service. The writers never got used to that and, in episodes like this one, you can really feel it. I mean, this is an episode of MECH AVENGERS fighting GIANT HULKS. It should easily be epic, but there’s too much time fast-forwarding through the epicness so we can get to the next cool thing or the next heart-to-heart. The final fight as the team pulls a Voltron (RIP Netflix show) feels more like a montage instead of a big, epic battle, with most of the team practically being non-existent. I mean, this is the first time we’re seeing characters like Moon Knight and Shang-Chi since their debuts, and they do basically NOTHING. The most memorable thing Moon Knight does is press a button. THAT’S IT. The majority of the time isn’t on this team of Mech Avengers, but instead on Sam Wilson and Bruce Banner…Which, to be fair, is actually the part of the story I liked. The relationship these two have makes a lot of sense when you think on it and it really sells the tragedy of a character like Bruce far better than recent MCU entries have. But, just like everything else in this episode, we rush past this friendship. We’ve got great moments like Sam consulting Bruce about being The Hulk and that final heart-to-heart feels like it SHOULD mean something, but there wasn’t enough time to build up this relationship or to show how good it was for them. We’re constantly TOLD they were friends because the episode didn’t have enough time to SHOW us. I don’t know, this SHOULD have been a SMASH, but with so much going on and not enough time to let it flow naturally, it all feels more like an episode you can PASS.

What If…Agatha Went to Hollywood?: Huh. So, for the first time ever, the MCU is acknowledging certain stories I’d figured they’d sooner let audiences forget. For one, we have The Eternals, a movie not many people liked, myself included. On top of that, we have acknowledgment to Agent Carter Season Two of all things, taking the plotline of Howard Stark making movies and using it as the main crux of this story. It shouldn’t surprise me, these writers are CLEARLY Agent Carter fans given how they shoved Peggy Carter into the spotlight again, but it still amazes me that the MCU is FINALLY giving some form of nod to what is really an underrated series…In Season One. Season Two’s not as good.

Now, outside of those acknowledgements…I feel like this story is a LITTLE hindered by the fact that the writers of What If…? didn’t get a chance to know what would happen in Agatha All Along. The plot of this story is that Agatha’s trying to gain the power of a celestial, and knowing what her life was like in Agatha All Along and what she lost, it would be interesting to consider WHY she would want the powers of a god. There would have been such a fascinating angle to go with that, but because animation is a lengthy process and you can’t edit an episode to fit a story that wrapped up two months ago, there’s no way they could have fit in what happened THERE into HERE. They barely had time to explain what happened to the other Eternals, saying they were taken care of off screen so we can rush through parts of this story. Again.

That being said…I still had some fun with this one. Seeing Agatha ham it up was a lot more entertaining in animation than live-action, with animators looking like they’re having the time of their lives making her move around and have facial expressions like an over the top Disney villain. She may not be AS compelling of a character like she was in her own show (Which had NO right to be as good as it was), but again, the writers probably didn’t have enough time to factor that in. All the information they had was from WandaVision, and ran with it by making Agatha more of an outrageous villain than before. And her interactions with Kingo, the one of the few characters I kind of liked in The Eternals, was surprisingly enjoyable. It’s two egotistical immortals trying to outperform the other, with the chemistry shooting sparks through the roof. Not ROMANTIC chemistry, mind you. That “Not my type” line is just…hilarious. Regardless, they’re what makes this episode fun, taking elements from the weaker side of the MCU and creating a bigger story out of it. Would it have benefited if this season had more material to work with in regards to Agatha All Along? Most definitely, yes. But for what they had, it still shined bright.

What If…The Red Guardian Stopped The Winter Soldier?: I really want to like this one. I REALLY do. It’s the loud and boisterous Red Guardian teaming up with the quiet and professional Winter Soldier. There should be comedy GOLD with their interactions, and while there ARE…there’s not enough to make this episode more than “Okay.” The execution is really what holds it back, as David Harbour’s performance often makes the Red Guardian more ANNOYING than endearing a lot of the time, aside from a few bits with Bucky. Speaking of, it’s weird how Bucky isn’t…the same, cold killer he was in Winter Soldier and the opening of Civil War. There, he often acted robotically, matching the arm that Hydra and the Soviets gave him. Here though? He’s biting Alexi’s leg, quipping, and acting just as jovial as Alexi does sometimes. The only time it makes sense that he acts more human was when he flirts with a cashier and explains it away with him saying his “Deep-Cover Mode” activated. That’s not the BEST excuse, but it works enough. I get that this hypnotized assassin would have been hard to write around and explain why he’d team up with  Alexi, but I also feel like there would have been MORE comedic opportunity to have Alexi try and interact with someone who doesn’t talk much or barely acknowledges his presence. Treat it like a kid trying to befriend a killing machine, there’s comedic potential there. It’s definitely more digestible than Alexi being the one to break Bucky’s conditioning.

Yeah, that’s a thing that doesn’t sit right with me. You can argue it was the power of friendship that broke through to Bucky in Captain America: The Winter Soldier, but it’s not just that. It’s the POWERFUL friendship between Bucky and Steve that no time nor conditioning could have broken, making something kind of beautiful in a movie about spies and espionage. So to have a guy Bucky barely knew in a DAY AND A HALF to be the one to free him spits in the face of Bucky’s story, his relationship with Cap, and his entire character development. It’s what stops me from really ENJOYING this episode, as it takes leaps and bounds of logic that feel greater than any other What If. Especially since there’s a way to help that. You have this guy dressed up as a red version of Bucky’s best friend. You can find a way to write that into why he changed gradually, even if it means having Red Guardian SUBTLY act like Steve. Definitely better than how he USUALLY acts.

It really is the characterization that stops me from enjoying this episode. Alexi and Bucky feel more like they’re in a Lego parody instead of an alternate timeline in the MCU, and it holds back the enjoyment a LOT…That being said, there are SOME things that I do enjoy. While the characterization isn’t the best, there are the occasional fun and somewhat endearing moments the two share. It’s also kind of cool to see Bill Foster’s Goliath again as he chases after these two idiots across the country, and his interactions with Ranger Morales (Not THAT Morales…Maybe) are surprisingly adorable. Speaking of which, Ranger Morales might be the best character in this entire thing, with her being the only one who benefits from the screwball comedy because, you know, she’s a new character. She’s allowed to say she wrestled a bear with her bare hands or collected slot machine tokens in her hat because she’s not someone with far more interesting and compelling stories being ruined for a comedic episode. And, to this story’s credit, there IS something interesting and compelling as it reveals WHO gave up information that got the Starks killed. I’m not gonna give it away, but it’s a great detail that offers more lore than I could expect from a series that isn’t really canon but CAN offer plausible information that COULD be canon. And, yeah, it makes me enjoy a certain MCU villain a LITTLE bit more because of how despicable his actions are.

In the end, there are SOME good stuff that makes this a fun experience, but if you’re not a fan of the Red Guardian’s characterization or ESPECIALLY the Winter Soldier’s, then you’re going to likely wish someone wiped YOUR memory of this adventure.

What If…Howard the Duck Got Hitched?: Darcy laid an egg in this one…I wouldn’t expect crazier from an episode about Howard the gosh dang DUCK.

Despite all its flaws, What If…? really was the best way to adapt an insane character like Howard the Duck into the MCU. His wackadoodle adventures and storylines work fine in a comic universe where characters are allowed to get as silly as they want, but I feel like She-Hulk proves that MCU fans aren’t ready for goofy nonsense that suits the character. So to have him go on an occasional oddball adventure within a non-canon series, it works so that the writers can get as weird as they want with it. And holy shit-knuckles, do things get fuckin’ WEIRD.

Aside from Darcy laying a FUCKING EGG (How the hell is that even possible?), you have every powerful person in the universe chasing after the damn thing because it is, inexplicably, the most powerful thing in all of infinity and they all want it for different reasons. Dormamu’s cult wants it to host his body, SHIELD wants to keep it out of the hands of everyone, and the Grandmaster…just wants to eat the damn thing. Now, HOW is it possible that Howard and Darcy’s egg turned out to be the most powerful thing in existence? Fuck if I know, but it is BONKERS and I love it. It’s just so funny seeing all of the mightiest and most threatening beings in the MCU all chasing down an egg of all things. And I don’t know about you, but something about seeing the two most boring MCU villains slapping each other so they can get to it first is…It…It just tickles me, okay?

And I know I complained about characterization in the last episode, and that still applies…unless the story is about Howard the mother fucking DUCK. Characters can get as weird as they want because that’s just how things work with him. But even then, there’s some genuine heart there as Howard and Darcy try their best to be good parents for their precious little egg. I would never think that a story where Howard and Darcy start a family together could turn out so wholesome, but gosh dang it, these writers are really trying to sell it. Their personalities work off each other better than I could have imagined, with Howard being an angry but good-hearted doof while Darcy perfectly toes the line between being the only sane person there and just as insane as everyone else. It works far better than I thought it could, really endearing me to the comedy as I watch the insane lengths these two would go to protect their child. I wouldn’t expect an episode about Howard the Duck to be one of the best in the season, possibly the series, but I guess it’s true what they say. When you’re outta luck, go duck…Or someone says that. I don’t know.

What If…The Emergence Destroyed the Earth: Hey, look! An actual DARK episode of What If…?! Are you fuckers HAPPY NOW?!

I say that as if it’s not something I wanted either, but I will admit that I would love just a BIT more dramatic stories in this show. Strange Supreme’s origins and Ultron’s victory are the best episodes of the series for a reason, even if I still wildly enjoy the goofy antics we usually get. It allows the writers to tell a tragic ending to a universe while, occasionally, showing the true strengths of our heroes. Something about Black Widow and Hawkeye still trying to stop Ultron despite living in a dead world–A dead UNIVERSE–shows that you can kill anything and everything, but you can’t completely kill a hero’s spirit. Something similar happens in this episode, though going for a different tactic to tell this tragedy.

It opens right away with The Watcher telling us that this story doesn’t have a happy ending. So, with every tense situation Riri is in, it makes you think that THIS is the moment when the worst happens. Yet the episode does a good job at always giving just the TINIEST bit of hope, making you think that The Watcher might be wrong and that she could maybe save the day. Although, it may have played its hand a little TOO much that The Watcher might do a certain something, but even then it plays with expectations a little, making you wonder if he’ll even do what you expect him to. It’s a decent attempt at playing with emotions, all while fitting into this extra dark world.

Speaking of, this is definitely the most intriguing universe that The Watcher presented. The idea that life still exists despite the Earth cracking apart is such a cool sci-fi concept that works best in a superhero world. Science will likely call bullshit, but I for one love seeing this literally broken world, watching debris and parts of people’s old lives float around the Earth’s messed up gravity. Things get more interesting as we get to see who the big bad of this story is, and I’m pleasantly surprised to see that it’s Mysterio. I don’t hate him as a villain, but I wouldn’t have expected him of all characters to control what’s left of Earth. Yet the writers go all the way that they could with a concept like this, showing us a much darker version of this villain and going further with what his abilities are capable of. The episode does a good job of showing us how Mysterio’s illusions were capable of taking over the planet, and I applaud the attempt.

I also love how much this episode endears me to Riri Williams. I wasn’t a huge fan of Ironheart in Wakanda Forever, feeling like she was the weakest part of that excellent movie. Here, though, I’m starting to see how a character like her could be fun to watch. Her determination to try and fix what’s left of the world and to keep fighting back no matter what it might do to her is the right kind of motivation to make me enjoy ANY hero. It’s simple, but effective enough to know that Riri is capable of such inner strength. I will admit, though, that I don’t really care for her supporting cast. In this episode in particular, it really feels like the writers just picked random names out of a hat and just inserted those characters into the story. No one other than Riri feels like they’re meant to be there as none of their unique personalities are allowed to shine through like hers. You could have replaced them with anybody, and the effect would still feel more or less the same.

That being said, I still think this is a winner here. It’s the exact type of dark story that fans have been demanding, all with a little hope shining in that darkness. Maybe it’ll make fans happy, maybe it won’t, but nothing in What If...? rarely does. I had my fun, and I’ll continue to have it no matter what Twitter says.

What If…1872: An episode where Shang-Chi and Kate Bishop are local heroes in the wild west? Sure, why not. This show’s done weirder…In fact, it’s kind of why I have some objections with a part of The Watcher’s opening narration. “Think less of ‘What if’ and more ‘What the hell,’” has basically been this show’s motto for a while. This is just putting two heroes in a different time period without some nonsense with Captain America smacking a time stone. Meanwhile, two episodes ago, we had Darcy lay an egg. I think it’s safe to say that this isn’t the first time we said “What the Hell?”

With that said…this is another good one. And it’s easy to see why. It’s a wild west story featuring two characters that have NOT made that big of an appearance since their introductions. AGAIN. As someone who absolutely LOVES Shang-Chi’s movie, it’s actually nice to see him kicking ass like he used to while the animation is allowed to have him fight with crazier moves. And Kate Bishop was a lot more entertaining to me this time around, acting as a cold and stern markswoman with actual skills instead of the bubbling and awkward character like most of the Young Avengers the MCU portrayed. She felt more like a unique character, and a badass one at that. Even the villains are pretty awesome in this, with Sonny Burch being a great, twisted fuck and The Hood being an ominous mystery even if the twist became a BIT predictable.

Speaking of, I have…mixed feelings towards that twist. Because I do kind of like the tragedy and internal conflict that Shang-Chi faces when met with who The Hood is. It feels like a taste of what COULD happen in a Shang-Chi sequel, whenever the fucking hell that will happen. But, at the same time, the episode started off as if it was about tackling AmerIica’s dark history in how we abused the immigrant workers to make it the country that it is. I was SO ready to give the MCU brownie points for tackling subject matter that isn’t easy to discuss…and then immediately ripped those points away once it revealed that the culprit is an immigrant too. Now, it’s not a COMPLETE loss. There’s this implication that the twist character is under some kind of control from The Hood itself and we’ve still got white boy Sunny being all kinds of okay with the enslavement of Chinese immigrants. BUUUUUUUUUT I still feel like this is the MCU starting off with an interesting, dark story to tell but pulling back because…reasons. Believe it or not, that happens more times than you think

Regardless of my thoughts on the twist, though, I enjoyed this one enough. It’s a decent wild west story that finally utilizes characters that the MCU refuses to touch despite throwing so much money into bringing them into the spotlight IN THE FIRST PLACE! Here’s hoping to seeing more Shang-Chi and even Kate Bishop in the future…

What If…The Watcher Disappeared/What If…What If: Might as well lump these two together as they’re more of a two-parter than any other finale. Even the Ultron episode of the first season still felt more like its own thing even though it set up the first big crossover. Here, though, both episodes are definitely part of the same story, one that a buddy of mine actually predicted we’d get: “What If The Watcher Was Put On Trial?”

Through this final story, we learn more about The Watchers, especially the one we’ve been following throughout the series. We get more of an idea about their oath and WHY The Watcher would want to break it. My favorite part is that he doesn’t hate his role in the multiverse. He loves his job as a Watcher and he doesn’t resent his higher ups for trying to take the job away from him or kill him and the ones he loves. He only gained a new perspective of what it means to watch and wants to share the lessons he’s learned, with the crux of the conflict coming from the fact that the other Watchers believes he’s going too far in protecting “lesser beings.” Speaking of, I liked the group of “lesser beings” formed in this two-parter. Byrdie is a kind of fun little tinkerer, it was GREAT to see Kahhori again despite her being a little TOO quippy, Storm as the Goddess of Thunder was AWESOME, and, of course, the big buff lady named Captain Carter proved just why I love her so much. I mean, she took a Watcher and fuckin’ body-slammed him into the dirt over and over again. Why the FUCK should I hate someone that awesome?

Speaking of, I’m…torn about my feelings towards the final battle. On the one hand, it was VERY epic and my monkey brain clapped at all the punching, kicking, and laser blasts that happened. On the other hand, I feel like the strongest parts of both episodes where the slow, character moments. The Watcher defending himself, Captain Carter voicing how she feels out of place in the entire multiverse, and even ULTRON going through a sort of redemption that works far better than I could have expected. That last part is the most fascinating of all, as we get to see what happens when a machine completes its objective, but his human mind allows him to reevaluate everything and change because his universe was allowed to exist. I feel like, as awesome as the final battle is, it would have been a more fascinating finale if we got MORE of that from other beings in the multiverse. Like, maybe if we got others that The Watcher helped or interfered with coming to his trial, defending him or going against him in some way, bringing the whole series together in a close. BUT, at the same time, I get why they didn’t do that. If this is the final episode, you gotta end it with a bang. And a big flashy fight is PERFECT for the kind of show that this is…but it could have been flashier.

We went from the starring characters in every episode teaming up to fight Ultron, to Captain Carter and Kahhori fighting against the most powerful beings of the multiverse, to…a random assortment of heroes plus The Watcher fighting three other Watchers. If this is the series finale, then bring in EVERYBODY for this one, big epic showdown as they defend the being that gave them importance. Instead, we have four heroes with one of them being introduced in THIS two-parter. As cool as Storm is, we know NOTHING of her or how she got that hammer. She just…does so the finale can have that extra cool factor. Even though I feel like it was on the right track when it brought back Infinity Ultron to join the team. It’s actually BRILLIANT to find a way to bring the first big bad in the series and make him an ally…Only to kill him off within the first few minutes of the final episode. You see what I mean? There’s a good idea to tie this series all together into one epic finale and what they do is…good enough, but not perfect.

With that said, I still find this a fitting enough end. Captain Carter gets to go out swinging to protect those she cares for and for all of infinity, while The Watcher realizes he’s more than just a voice or a faceless narrator who observes the fragments of the multiverse. He’s Uatu, and he’s the protector of infinity to make grander universes to observe, with brief flashes of the multiverse him and the others saved to prove. And…it’s really too bad we won’t get to see any of those.

Were these the best stories What If…? had to offer? Well…Not really, no. Aside from maybe one or two, it is, admittedly, not the BEST the show could make. Or the best stories they could have possibly made. It’s still enjoyable, but, once again, I can see why it’s not best for everyone.

…IT IS NOT THE WORST MCU SHOW, HOLY SHIT! The amount of people who bitch and moan about how awful the show is…makes me question reality, I’ll say that much. I genuinely wonder if there’s something wrong with ME or there’s something wrong with THEM with how VENOMOUS they get towards this show, especially with Captain Carter. I mean…what is with the hatred towards Captain Carter? They’re acting like the writers are FORCING fans to like her when…people like me just like her. And you wanna know WHY I like her? In fact, you wanna know WHY I liked What If…? Especially in this season? Because the writers give more of a shit about these characters than the MCU does.

Villains are allowed to come back and be better threats than they were in the movies.

Tony Stark can go on an intergalactic adventure instead of fighting evil billionaires.

Hela can look into who she is beyond a goddess of death.

Riri Williams can be an actual hero instead of a side character that’s forced into a spin-off.

Howard the Duck can be an actual character.

And Peggy Carter? She’s not someone who has boys fighting over or for Steve Rogers to win as a trophy. She’s not carefully tip-toeing through situations and appealing to men for the sake of getting THEM to get shit done. She’s a big, buff, BADASS woman who will do whatever she wants and wins like a fuckin’ CHAMPION because she is CAPTAIN GOSH DANG PEGGY CARTER! I don’t give two shits if you think she’s an industry plant. Ninety-percent of the heroes you LOVE are industry plants. THE FUCKING AVENGERS WERE INDUSTRY PLANTS! It was a collection of superheroes that weren’t doing well on their own, so Marvel just lumped them all together into a team, labeling them as “Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.” AND YOU CALL THEM THAT TO THIS DAY! Just admit that it’s sexism that makes you hate her. You’re still annoying, but at least you’re honest about it.

Like What If…? or not, it’s at least USING these characters for more than what the MCU offered, especially the ones that the franchise refuses to touch because Kevin Fiege didn’t think ahead about how to use characters he spent millions to produce for the big and small screens. And I’m going to genuinely miss it for that reason alone. I had so much fun with this show because I got to see these characters I love go on more adventures they couldn’t in the main timeline. If it’s not your cup of tea, that’s fine. I can live with that. But don’t act like it’s a STAIN on the MCU when the MCU HAS GONE LOWER! It’s not the writers fault that they wanted to have fun instead of making YOUR fan fics come true. You want to see what happens if the other half got dusted? Write your own fan fic about it. Because if you don’t think What If…? has good writing, what makes you think it’ll deliver those high expectations to you. YOU are not the person this show is catering to. Deal with it.

As for me, I’ll miss this show. I genuinely will. It was fun while it lasted, but I guess fun can’t last forever. The only question now is…What’s next?

[somelonelywordmonger]

In reverse order, my speech tends to be slow, and when I am especially struggling with my autism or even just my chronic fatigue/illness/pain, then my voice can become flatter. Although it is arguably already dulled in its tone.

I hate crashing out. After school as a kid, after going to a doctor's appointment, after being out for even an hour, or hanging with friends. It makes me feel useless and pathetic.

I have no idea about the gastrointestinal issues, but they are all probably connected because my ankylosing spondylitis and fibromyalgia also cause gastrointestinal issues.

The emotional regulation is beyond infuriating. Zero to sixty swings if something really rocks me. To feel emotions like a big and intense ball that builds and drops in your body or to feel the weight on your frontal lobe when depression waves peak. Or the tingle down your face and chest from someone shaming you and the burn in your eyes as your face tingles and numbs from shame. Or this one small part of my brain that sometimes itches when I have genuine flat-out fear or anxiety. To feel the sudden suppression of all positive feelings when I dissociate to somewhere not happy. It is obnoxious having such intense feelings and half the time not even being able to really name what you feel. Half of those emotion charts out there don't help because they are limited in expression when my emotion ball is complex.

Interoception can be a weird one for me. So I feel pain all the time. I am incredibly sensitive to pain. But often, I don't know if I am thirsty, hungry, or needing to pee or poop until right at the last second. Until I am rushing to the bathroom, my throat and mouth are dry, and my brain says, "need water," or my stomach finally growls, or I just feel sugar drop or hangriness set in. Yet, I am also incredibly sensitive to hot and cold temperatures. It makes about as much sense as my emotions half the time.

I have safe foods or food I gravitate towards or feel most comfortable eating. They aren't the best, but they hardly vary, and I usually know how my stomach responds to these foods. It can be frustrating and limiting and sometimes causes unnecessary anxiety, but I can't seem to help it much.

I have a trick for "looking into someone's eyes" where I look between their eyes. But to make it seem like I am not staring them down or trying to anyway, I also look under their eyes and above them. I've noticed non-autistic people blink and move their eyes quite a bit. And sometimes I even unfocus my eyes and look them directly into their eyes because it is fuzzy and easier to look. But I risk a lazy eye moment if I do that. Occasionally, I wander to their mouths and try to take in the whole face to see if I can read any emotions, vibes, or hidden languages. There are other social things I am hyperaware of, and it often never goes as planned, so I crack many jokes. I've been told I am charismatic which is a feat for someone who goes into social situations like they are preparing for battle. It really sucks when I focus too much on my strategies and then lose track of the conversation. Then I have to deploy the diversion tactics, which are monosyllabic answers until I can get back on track, LOL.

7 Lesser Known Autistic Experiences

Neurodivergent Lou

[quietwingsinthesky]

i really do think the desire to paint ten as unambiguously The Worst™️ when it comes to his relationship with martha is out of this desire to uncomplicate their relationship. to decouple them as friends and people who profoundly impacted each other’s lives. it’s just an easier narrative to swallow: that ten was Awful to her and then martha kicked him to the curb when she realized she was too good for him. easier, maybe, then dealing with the troubles of unrequited affection don’t have to be anyone’s fault, or that ten shut martha out in a lot of ways but let her in in others that he wouldn’t let any other companion near, or that they were still friends, they still wanted to see each other and be around each other, even though it was messy and sometimes hurt. you know?

[pokemon-radical-red]

I hate it when I headcanon a character who’s canonically a girl as a trans man and make ships of him and a character who’s canonically a guy and I refer to it as a gay/mlm/guyxguy/whatever ship and someone gets mad. Like omg let trans people have FUNNNNN. Why are queer headcanons and genderbends cool until they’re saying that the character is trans???

“OMGGG you’re so misogynistic I can’t believe you would erase FEMALE representation!!!”

and like half of the characters in the franchise are women, and a total of… NONE of the characters are trans men. Also, my headcanon doesn’t change the source material. If my stuff upsets you, you can block me and go engage with the source or maybe every single other fanwork, since mine is the only trans man hc for this character that I’ve ever seen.

or when people are like “WTF??? this is so transphobic!!! how dare you imply that a character who looks like that could be a trans man?!?! do you think that trans men are women or something??? she uses she/her, and you’re misgendering her!”

No, I don’t think that being a trans man makes you a woman or vice versa. That’s why it’s a headcanon, and the headcanon is that this character is actually a trans man and not a woman at all! You’ll never guess what pronouns most trans men had to use at some point in their lives, and you really won’t like it when you find out about pre-(or no-)transition trans men… or trans men who are in the closet… or trans men who don’t know that they’re trans yet.

“But the character is a kid!!! Saying they’re trans is sexualizing them.”

I’ve seen this one from other queer people. Like did you miss when all of the homophobes said this about your identity, or do you think that bigotry is only bad when it’s directed at you?

“Why would you say ‘testosterone could fix her’??? Are you trying to call her a delusional woman?”

Why would your brain even go to that first? This literally has to be a bad faith reading, because there’s no way that someone could see what I said and get this unless they were specifically looking for something to be mad at me for.

(Note for anyone unaware: “Estrogen would’ve fixed him!” was a meme going around at the time I said this. I’m not sure if it’s still super big, but this was a joke to the effect of that.)

“So girls can’t be tomboys anymore? You just wanna trans everyone?”

This is like actual real life transphobic rhetoric. This isn’t even just shitting on my headcanon, but in fact, sending transphobic hate to a trans man. Thanks 👍. Maybe you should go send JK Rowling another message about how much you loved her essay instead of bothering me.

[sherlock-is-ace]

.

[priafey]

i had the day off so i spent like five hours doing budgeting. jesus fuck why is everything so expensive

[phantom-does-a-thing]

It’s almost worse knowing they hurt me unintentionally because I don’t have any right to hate them. It was an accident, they didn’t know, but still I have breakdowns at the mention of them and they don’t even know.

[polarfarina]

I guess I'm just confused that fans of watcher are willing to pay sometimes $100 or more in ticket prices to see the live shows with Shane and Ryan but then $6 is really offensive and a betrayal of an ask... like one mystery files hoodie costs more than a year of their (currently announced price of the) site subscription. Don't get me wrong because I do NOT think the paywall was the right decision or announced the right way, I don't think it's going to work. But. I have seen and heard several people say they buy tickets and merch, why can't that be enough? $6 is too expensive! But I'm sitting here confused because. The tickets and merch are way more than six dollars..???? I'm really really confused about that point. It's not that I don't understand that $6 can be unaffordable, it's just... so many people say they can't spend $6 while in the same breath have been boasting about how so far they've been able to spend money on concerts and patreon and buying shirts and blind boxes and the premium YouTube subscription because creators get a bigger chunk of the money that way (watcher should be GLAD they supported them btw!); but SIX DOLLARS? They can't pay that! It's odd. Is all I'm saying.

On the flip side, I saw people saying that because they live outside of the us they would get charged a double tax that they couldn't afford due to having to transfer money overseas; I feel like that's a really good point. Once this goes behind a paywall, international audiences will have a much harder time accessing content moving forward, if they can at all (not every country plays nice with PayPal). Even if they can afford the $6, there will be a heap of fees on top of it - or there won't even be a way to get the money to the service in the first place.

Absolutely the fact that Watchers' content is suddenly becoming paywalled seemingly immediately moving forward with little warning is a big shock and at first when watching the video, I didn't think they were serious. Having witnessed a successful launch of a YouTube channel into a paid subscription site with the exact price that watcher is asking for... they are not doing it right. Not for their audience. But people are so so focused on how expensive six dollars is and not on the other implications of this decision, which just... am I in the wrong here?? There's a bigger conversation i feel could be had but everyone is really really focusing on the BETRAYAL of six dollars... and I feel like I'm going crazy because that wasn't even in my first handful of thoughts about why this was a bad idea

[spacedlexi]

up until this point i feel like hbo’s tlou has been pretty good at expanding upon pre-existing content from the game, but for me this new episode was kinda mid..

i wouldve liked to see more expansion on sam and henrys story, or maybe even kyle and ish?? (loved that story)(they showed the drawing of them for a half second and they renamed kyle for no reason 💀). but instead we get introduced to this kathleen (?? can barely remember her name) lady who i couldnt get myself to care about. cared more about her 2nd in command guy

sam and henry were my favorite of the original supporting cast and they have to share their time with this lady that puts me to sleep, while frank and bill got nearly an entire heartfelt episode dedicated to them

with the side stories theyre choosing to tell so far i feel like by the time we get to part 2 its gonna be like “we’re doing THIS again??” (and part 2 was already kinda like that for me as in it didnt really do anything new or interesting for me)

like oh my god we’re still going on about revenge and forgiveness and ooooh nobody is perfectly good or bad we are all shades of grey 2 sides of the same coin yadda yadda except now theyre all self aware about it 😭💀

like can we write anything else?? besides trying to make both sides of a violent conflict equal of course because they love doing that (dont think i forgot abt the weird palestine/israel parallel in pt2 i think that was the worst one for me). but kathleen is basically just abby again and unless part 2 is a complete rewrite then im gonna be honk shoo mimimimi ASLEEP

[nomaishuttle]

i do fr need to work on differentiating between "actually middleclass" and "doesnt live paycheck to paycheck" lmao bc that is something i struggle with... obviously ik i have more in common with like. even somebody whos fr middleclass disney vacations every year. I know i have more in common with them than i do with bezos but god at least i dont have to see bezos being annoying in front of me every day KJANDJKLNLJD

[abyssalpriest]

if i disappear after saying that ive been assassinated no jokes aside if i take that down its not bc i disagree with it, you can still pin it on me as a belief that i think that shit should be said and ill put my whole ass behind it, but saying shit like that has consequences lmfao. also theres a time and a place to bring that up

[nezuscribe]

𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: you find yourself in a marriage that you never wanted in the first place. your husband seems to hate you and you begin to wonder if anything you used to think of him was even true. who would have though a marriage to gojo satoru would be so difficult?

warnings: 18+ mdni, arranged marriage, misunderstandings and just not talking shit out, mentions of cheating, slight angst (with comfort), eating out (fem! receiving), fingering, gojo doesn't really know how to husband for some of it

word count: 10.9K (whoops)

note: part two is up! i really had a lot of fun writing this so reblogs and comments are always appreciated! as always, thank you to @jadeisthirsting for beta reading <3

jjk masterlist

never did you think that you’d be stuck in a marriage to a man who didn’t love you, but there’s a first for everything. 

you should count yourself lucky that he’s not old and bald. he’s pretty. in fact, he’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. his eyes are the bluest, bluer than the sky. his hair mirrors the winter snows, and his back ripples with muscles whenever he fights. 

his agility is unlike any other man. he fights swiftly and cleanly, never taking more than a couple minutes to get rid of whatever it was that stood in his way. he’s charming with his words (or so you’ve heard), and he knows how to make somebody swoon if he really wants them to. 

and he seems to despise you.

you had known gojo since you were a child, the two of you running around each other's fields as you chased him with your wooden sword. you remembered watching him in training, wishing him good luck whenever he went on a hunt. you could even remember how he would stutter whenever he tried to talk, something he must have worked on because he never seemed to stutter anymore. 

he was always nice to you, his cheeks rosy whenever you kissed him goodbye. he was kind back then, grinning brightly whenever he saw you. 

but as time grew and you with it, and it was only a matter of years before the two of you went your separate ways. it didn’t help that once he turned thirteen he had to leave for training and fighting in whatever it was that was needed of him, but you had hoped that he would be able to write back. 

you would send him letters whenever you could, it was tradition whenever the two of you were separated for too long to do so. each letter telling him about new experiences and embarrassing things that happened in your life, but he never responded. you liked to send one every week, sometimes including little tokens you thought he might enjoy. but you stopped sending them after the first two years and stopped asking about his whereabouts after three. 

but you were hopeful that when you saw him that night so many months ago, he’d be civil with you. you were nervous, sure, but who could blame you? you had recently gotten news that his time to serve his clan was over and that he was finally back home. it wasn’t as though the two of you had left on bad graces, so you were hopeful that he would at least remember you. but he could barely meet your eyes whenever you tried to catch him from across the room, acting as if you had never existed. 

he looked so different since the last time you had seen him. he was taller than most of the people in the room, his white hair just as bright as it used to be. he had gained muscle mass almost everywhere, and you felt yourself wondering just how much training he had to go through to look this way. you could see him talking to a girl, a smile on his face as he tilted his head to look at her better. you gave him some time to socialize, not wanting to intrude on anything. 

after an hour you decided that it was long enough, and tried to weave your way through the crowd to get to him. you had tried to call out to him, waving to him despite your mother quickly shoving your hand down, saying how improper it was. he heard you and you knew that he was purposely ignoring you, so you began to feel heavy-hearted after a couple of attempts at trying to catch his attention, eventually giving up. 

and now, despite you wanting to, you can’t even blame him for hating you. 

ever since your mother caught you, alone with him, a man you hadn’t seen in so long, she had swiftly and promptly proposed the idea of marriage only a few days later. it was really to save face for the two families, but it helped that this marriage would unify the two clans. 

you were sure he had ladies lined up to marry him, and you weren’t somebody he was actively trying to pursue. you didn’t even know if he was in love with somebody else if he shared a connection with a girl who was surely not you and cursed you for taking that away from him. 

not that it mattered now. 

all you wanted was to reconcile, to catch up on all the things happening in your lives. you wanted to hear all the stories he must have racked up over the years, not for this to happen. all the things he wanted for himself were ripped away because of one night from one simple act of kindness, and so you couldn’t find it in yourself to hate him for the way he acted.

you rarely come down for dinner whenever he’s there, but when you do, you feel those eyes turn icy, tracking your every movement till you sit down opposite of him. he doesn’t say much, just mutters a quiet “good evening” and you’re sure he’s only doing it so the maids don’t start to gossip. 

whenever your hand brushes his you feel him snap back, flexing his hand as though your touch burned him. he rarely came by to ask you about how you felt, and so you stopped trying to act kindly towards him if he didn’t want anything to do with it.

any semblance of romance you had dreamed of as a young girl quickly dissipated when you realized your husband wanted nothing to do with you, so you didn’t try to pursue any sort of love, deciding it’d be easier if he just did his part and you did yours so the two clans wouldn’t worry. 

he was always gone, which might be the best for the two of you. when he’s not training new men then he’s gone in a hunt. if he’s not in a hunt then he’s somewhere in his endless home, hiding away. 

you don’t know if he does this for him, for your sake, or for everybody else. 

“did you see your husband this morning?” one of your maids said excitedly as she tugged the undergarments over your raised arm, a gleeful smile on her face as she rambled about something gojo had done. you couldn’t help but return a smile of your own, although it didn’t quite meet your eyes. 

“yes, briefly. he’s busy with having to worry about the feast,” which wasn’t a total lie. you’d seen him hurriedly brush past you, quickly glancing at you as if he had forgotten you were his wife. you felt your chest tighten up with the way he glanced at your hand, and then quickly left. 

it was only a few nights away and you knew that it was the only buzz of news anybody seemed to talk about. unfortunately, for you, it meant having to socialize with other clans. you were fine with that aspect, you’d been doing it since you were young, but this time they had a right to be nosey. you knew there would be endless questions asked about the honeymoon stage of your marriage, to which you had no answer. 

sure, you’d been making up answers to hypothetical questions, but you didn’t know what gojo would be answering with, so you were only praying some of your responses would line up. 

for a night the two of you would have to pretend to be husband and wife, and while the people around you knew you were anything, you knew you had to commit to the role for the sake of you and your family’s dignity. 

but all this worrying isn’t good for your head, you could already feel the pang as you squeezed your eyes to try and get rid of it. you tried to move on from your worries, going to comment on her necklace, it seemed new, but a knock interrupted you. the two of your heads popped up, looking at where the sound came from. 

“come in!” you called out, buttoning up the last bits of your top as you thanked myra. she nodded, bowing as she went to open the door. you could hear her faint footsteps, not bothering to look up as she greeted the person behind. you guessed it was franchesca coming with the fabric samples. 

“sir,” you heard myra say, and your head swirled around, only to see the topic of your conversation make his way into your room, excusing your maid with a swift motion of his hand. she glanced once at you and then to him, ducking her head as she left, closing the door behind her as she left you two alone. 

you felt heat prickle at the back of your neck as he looked at you and then to your room. the two of you slept separately, as per your request the first night. you couldn’t bear the agonizing silence between the two of you, and he obliged. 

he was dressed for sparring. he had a loose-fitting tunic on, and pants that would allow him to move freely and without constraint. it was in moments like these that you were reminded of the fact that gojo was the strongest warrior that any of the clans had seen, that the child who once splurged on sugar in his tea was capable (and has done so before) of taking down entire armies. 

he had matured so much since what you last remembered from him. he no longer acted rashly nor spoke without thinking about what it was he wanted to say. but you still saw him eating sweets with the same fervor he did as a kid, and it never failed to make you smile, hiding it behind your hand so nobody could hear your quiet giggle. 

it had been a while since it was just the two of you, alone, and all you could think about was that night. your cheeks heated up just thinking about it, and it seemed that gojo could tell your discomfort with the way he cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair as he began to speak. 

“good morning,” he started, his eyes darting around, never setting on yours. it was funny if it didn’t cause your heart to hurt irrevocably, at how the strongest warrior in all the land could barely look at his wife. 

if only you knew.

“good morning.” you offered him a quick, disingenuous smile, moving around until you found your vanity, rummaging through your laid-out earrings as you kept your back to him, not trusting your face to give you away if you were to look at him for too long. 

you heard him take in an audible breath, but he continued whatever it was he wanted to say. 

“with the feast coming up, i want to clear some things with you,” you turned around, looping the earrings in as you nodded for him to continue. it was such a shame he was so stunning, effortlessly attractive as the sun caught off his cheekbones, bouncing off of his chest. he rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, and you wondered if being here was just as painfully awkward for him as it was for you. 

“we should act like we’re…” he trailed off and you felt yourself itching to leave, knowing what he meant without having to say it. 

“in love?” you finished and he slowly nodded, gnawing on his lip as you brushed past him, going to find the mirror so you could adjust your jewelry. you could see him fidgeting in the corner, and for once you could see a hint of nervousness and unease on his features. 

and a part of you hurt. you would never admit out loud that you harbored a crush on him for as long as you could remember. it hurt knowing that you acting like you were in love was perhaps the lost genuine form of love you could show. 

“what if they ask about the night we met?” you ask after a couple of seconds, looking up from what you were doing. deep down, you knew somebody was bound to ask. even if it was just your mother who had caught the two of you alone in that garden, the news of it somehow spread (she was always one to talk). 

he scratches his head, shrugging as he eventually settles on an idea.

“just tell them the truth.” 

the truth. 

tell them how he followed you after you had run outside, sick to your stomach after a man, who was as old as your father, had introduced himself as a possible suitor. how gojo, the most ruthless warrior in all the land, had carefully put his hands on your back as you retched, offering you a towel he had fetched from inside to clean yourself up. 

tell them how you hadn’t seen him in years but the first thing you had done was to hug him tightly. how his hands wrapped around your back as though they were the only things keeping you afloat. perhaps they were. 

tell them how he murmured words in your hair to bring you back to reality, his thumb running up and down your arms to calm you down. how it seemed like even though it had been years since you two last saw each other, it felt so right, so normal, to be back in his arms. 

tell them how he had looked at you with such worry, such care, unlike anybody else had looked at you, and you for once felt safe in somebody’s arms. 

tell them how your mother found you two in such a compromising position, with your head nestled in his chest as he tried his very best to soothe your cries. it was humiliating and embarrassing to be caught with a man you had only seen back in your teenage years, and especially so in such a vulnerable position. 

you shake your head, scoffing at the idea, “i’ll just come up with something,” was your answer and he nods along, realizing how the story would be too private to share with people you barely knew.

“and we need a reason for why,” he cleared his throat once again, pink dusting on his cheeks as his eyes dropped to your stomach. your eyes met his in the mirror, and one of your eyebrows raised, “well, you’re not exactly looking like you’re carrying a child at the moment.” 

you quickly looked away, the tension in the room increasing as you moved away from the mirror, doing anything you could to keep your hands occupied. you flushed at the comment, your throat drying up as you glanced at your stomach.

the two of you have barely touched, much less been intimate with each other. you were glad he hadn’t forced the idea onto you, instead, leaving it to you to bring up the topic. you only talked about it, once, the night of the marriage, and then never again. you knew that it would have to happen eventually, but you couldn’t do it right now, not with your state of mind. 

you scrambled to say something. in all honesty, you had been dreading this question. you hadn’t been answering any of the letters your mother sent, and you knew people were expecting to hear the news of a pregnancy. 

“we’ll just say we’ve been so busy and preoccupied with the politics of marriage that we couldn’t… consummate.” you offered and he just shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as if this was the biggest inconvenience to him. 

you knew that this marriage was brought upon quickly and before either of you could object to it, but at least you tried to hide it away. if only he hadn’t acted so rashly that night, his hands on your shoulders, eyes bewildered as they racked over your figure. if only he had been more careful, or you were smarter in picking some place to be more concealed, you wouldn’t be put in this position. 

but neither of you was thinking ahead, and here you were. but he was certainly making sure that you knew of his contempt for this arrangement far more than you were. it was irritating, it scratched at your skin and ate away at your mind the more you saw each other.

“look,” he couldn’t take his eyes off of you, off of the way you were fiddling with the ring he had delicately placed on your hand so many weeks ago, “i can come up with whatever they ask, so just try your best to do the same.” you say, your voice tinged with anger, the ring on your finger acting as an anchor to the depths of the sea with the way it weighed down your movements, feeling your chest swell as he stayed silent, watching you as you opened the door. 

“i don’t-”

“um, i won’t be joining you for dinner, so don’t wait on me…i apologize, i need to work on some things for the feast…have a good day.” you swiftly murmured, shutting him in your own room as you left, your heart thumping erratically in your chest as you almost ran down the hallway. 

you had no idea how you were going to persuade the masses that this marriage was working if you couldn’t even persuade yourself. 

---

the feast of clans came earlier than you expected. 

you found yourself perched at the end of the table, gojo next to you, your stiff bodies mirroring each other as the people around you joyously helped themselves to the vast variety of food offered. 

you could barely touch the meal in front of you, your stomach churning uncomfortably with the sheer number of people that surrounded you. back home, you hated these feasts, opting to leave after a couple of bites and finish the rest of what you could pocket in your room, but here, as the clan leader's wife, you had no such luxury. 

“are you not hungry?” you looked to your side, gojo staring at your plate and then to you, his eyes squinting as he tried to decipher what you were feeling.

“i can’t eat,” you murmured, playing with your utensils as you swallowed thickly, “i don’t do well in large crowds.” 

he nodded once, looking out into the sea of bodies as he inched a little bit closer to you. he was donned in expensive fabrics, although his hair still messily fell all over. the candle that was lit in front of you had different hues of oranges and reds bouncing off of his pale skin, and if you didn’t know any better, the blush on his nose and cheeks could have been from the frigid winds from outside. 

“i’ll have myra save you a plate,” he said, giving you a curt smile as he went back to eating. 

you were momentarily taken aback by his comment, but tried not to show it, going back to fidgeting with your ring as you looked at the sea of people. nobody had thankfully come up to you and bombarded you with questions, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t going to eventually happen. 

“thank you,” you say, glancing at him and then back to your plate. 

“anything for my wife,” he replies. it’s only for show, you remind yourself, after all, when was the last time he referred to you as such? 

“gojo,” an old man had walked up to your table, his face lined with wrinkles and a beard, dressed in orange as he offered gojo his hand to shake, “i’m glad to see that you finally settled down.”

gojo blushed deeply, trying to offer him a smile as he motioned to you. 

“it’s hard to resist marriage when such a woman offers it.” he says, and you feel your eyes widen as you try to laugh off his statement. 

“yes,” the old man chuckles, eyeing the two of you. he looked familiar, and you were sure you had seen him around these sorts of gatherings before, “it was only a matter of time before it happened. we all knew just how much you liked her back when you were children.”

the two of you sputtered on your coughs, and you felt a little smile grow on your face as gojo did what he could to usher the man away. 

you could tell with the way he shifted uncomfortably in his seat that gojo wasn’t expecting that, and before you could realize what you were doing you found yourself talking. 

“i’m not a fan of feasts.” you quickly said, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them. it’s not like you felt you owed him an explanation, but you said it regardless. 

gojo looked up from his plate, grabbing his cup so he could wash down his bite. 

“any feast?” he asked, and you could feel the way the air shifted. he was glad you brought up a different topic. 

“one’s as big as this,” you twisted your ring back and forth on your finger subconsciously, “i get nervous in big crowds.”

“i remember,” a small smile grew on his face as he thought back to when the two of you were children, “you would hide under the tables and force me to come with you.” 

you chuckled, blood rushing to your ears at the fact that he remembered this about you. it was the bare minimum of what you remembered from him, but you had convinced yourself that he had washed every memory of your last selves from his mind. 

a rush of distant memories came to your head; nights spent under the tables, laughing as you two tried to keep your voices down as you tried to dodge the feet. you could still hear his whispers of staying quiet, trying to sneak out so he could smuggle in some pastries for you to eat.

“the adults scared me; they were always loud and insistent on asking personal questions.”

“like they are now?” he replied back, a tilt in his voice as you nodded feverishly. 

“yes!” you covered your mouth with your hand as you let out a laugh, a genuine one as you tried to look as put together as you could, “i swear, it’s even worse than when we were young. just the other day a wet nurse came to me and told me the best positions to get into when giving birth!” it really was a mortifying moment, your eyes darting all around as the old lady even took it upon herself to demonstrate the movements, but gojo didn’t seem to mind, laughing along with you. his eyes twinkled as they took in your giggly state, years since he had last seen you like this. 

“i feel like i should apologize,” he starts, having to cover his own infectious smile as he ducks down his head in shame, “i had her sent up to your chambers.”

your mouth dropped open in shock, lightly smacking his arm as he grinned at the look on your face.

“to mortify me so that i would never leave?” your thumb moves your ring back and forth and gojo watches you as you do it. 

“you seemed sick at breakfast, but i guess she thought it was a different sort of sickness.” gojo tells you as he cuts off some of his meat, not knowing just how much his words affected you. 

you had forgotten how simple and easy conversations were with gojo. although this was under a guise to fool people, you felt at ease with him, as if you didn’t have to be on guard with your emotions when he was around. 

“do you still want to hide under the table now?” he asked a couple of seconds later, chewing on a potato as you shrugged, looking around before your lips grew into an apologetic smile. 

“…yes,” you admitted bashfully and he smiled at your honest response. 

“if you want to hide, i’ll-”

“satoru!” a booming voice interrupted your endless spiral of thoughts as the two of you glanced upwards at the sound, “it’s been too long!” 

a man with hair as dark as night and a smile wider than any ocean had come up to your table. he was the first one to do so all night, but gojo didn’t seem bothered by it. he seemed to smile, crescents forming around his eyes as he took his friend's hand.

“too long,” he emphasized with a charming grin, motioning to you and then back to the man in front of you as if he suddenly remembered the two of you and never met, “suguru, this is my wife, y/n. y/n, this is one of my oldest friends.” 

you extended your hand outwards and the man, suguru, took it, placing a soft kiss on the back of it as he shot you a playful smile. he wasn’t at the wedding, but then yet again, it was a rather quick one. the only people who had attended were your families. 

“it’s a pleasure to meet you.” he greeted, and you nodded in agreement, sitting back down next to gojo. you felt his long fingers reach for yours, enveloping your hand in his as your heart sputtered at the touch. 

“likewise,” you answered and the man grinned politely before he slightly tilted his head, looking at the two of you sitting next to each other. 

“he’s not bothering you, is he? i know satoru can be fiendish when he wants to be, so call for me and i’ll take care of him.” he teased and you could only smile tightly and laugh along, gojo’s fingers slightly tightening around yours as he moved your hand to rest on his thigh. 

“i can take care of him when he’s fiendish. i just have to take the sugar away, right?” suguru snorted and gojo glared, but it was playful the way he looked at you. 

his hands were warmer than you would have expected. you could feel the indents of calluses on his fingertips, could feel his thumb moving back and forth on your skin in a calming sort of manner. he didn’t look over at you as he did it, playing it off as second nature. 

“i apologize for not having much time to get to know you, but i have something i need to talk to gojo about. would you mind? it will only take a minute?” he asked, and gojo let go of your hand at the time of his friend's voice. you had to control your urge to roll your eyes, shifting in your seat as you motioned for suguru to talk to your husband, watching as he stood from his seat, leaving with the man as they went somewhere a little more secluded. 

you watched as gojo leaned down to hear whatever it was that suguru was whispering in his ear, pulling back with a frown on his face. he snapped something that only caused suguru to reel back, cast a quick glance at you, and then shake his head in clear annoyance. 

you saw gojo look up, his eyes landing on somebody from across the room, and you followed his stare, only to land on a girl. 

she wore a dark yellow tunic and skirt, colors from a neighboring clan. you hadn’t seen her before, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t known. just one look at the men surrounding her and you could pick up on their lovesick expressions. 

she motioned for gojo to come to her with a bend of her finger, slyly brushing her hair out of her face to make it look as though it was nothing, exiting from the dining area and vanishing into one of the halls. 

you looked down in case either of the men glanced over to see if you were staring. your eyes pierced through the meat on your plate, bile rising up your throat. 

you gave yourself some time, counting up to a minute before you looked back to where suguru and gojo were, finding suguru standing alone. you looked at where the girl was and saw a flash of white hair before it disappeared, your heart sinking as you glanced back at suguru, only to find him looking at you. 

you looked back at your plate, picking up a knife and fork as you stabbed the meat. you couldn’t keep anything down but it’s best to pretend.

---

gojo didn’t return until half an hour later, and you refused to talk to him. 

“did anybody bombast you with questions?” he teased, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. he didn’t seem to pick up on your darkened mood as your fingers dug into your dress. 

“i had a woman ask me if you had disappeared with your mistress, but that was it.” you remarked, silence filling the void between the two of you and you realized that all you had thought of him was crumbling down. 

you didn’t care for your image anymore, giving curt answers to any questions somebody had asked. you could feel his stare on the side of your face but you didn’t humor him in looking over, focusing on your plate instead. 

so what if he was seeing somebody else? you would have been naive to think that he wouldn’t wander. the two of you barely touched each other. 

once all the guests had left over the course of the following days, you did everything you could to steer away from gojo. 

you no longer came down for breakfast or dinner, choosing to eat in your own quarters. if he wanted to have his own secrets, he could do whatever he pleased. 

though you rarely saw suguru after the feast, he did try to talk to you the morning after it took place. he cornered you after you had left from breakfast, his once playful demeanor turned serious as you tried your best to end the conversation. 

“what you saw last night-”

“is none of my business,” you finished, raising your hand as you cut him off, “if gojo has his own private matters to deal with, i’m indifferent to them all.” 

“you know that’s not what it was.” his hand hovered over your arm, careful not to touch you but not wanting you to leave either. 

“i ruined his life, didn’t i?” you tilted your head a bit in questioning. after all, that’s all you could hear from the women who gossiped as they folded the laundry, or behind the hands of the girls who watched you and gojo interact and the mothers who wanted their daughters to be set up with him only sneered at you from across the tables. 

“you…where’d you get that from?” his brows scrunched together in confusion as you scoffed, hoping he couldn’t see the tears welling in the corner of your eyes at the sting of your own words. 

“i can see it on his face. if gojo wants to have his own affairs, he can have them. it’s not like we’re in love. hopefully, i find my own way out so that the two of us look happier and this marriage looks somewhat presentable to the public.” 

you didn’t want to see the look on his face, but you’re sure he reported this all back to gojo because he didn’t look at you once after it. 

you heard from a maid a week later that he was gone for another meeting with a clan, a southern one from what you picked up, and that you should probably go and wish him some luck. 

leading up to the night of his departure you anxiously paced around your room, your feet padding on the floor as your nightgown swished behind you. 

you hadn’t talked to gojo at all that day, and purposefully so. 

it was petty, you know it was, to not want to see him, but a part of you still aches when you look back on that night. at how he didn’t explain where he was even after you asked, at how it was suguru he had sent to fix his dirty work for him. 

“y/n?” a muffled voice came from outside your door. 

your head shot up at the familiar sound, quietly dragging yourself out from your bed as you grabbed the candle, hovering on the other side as you waited for him to say something else. 

“are you awake?” you heard a soft thud from his side, almost as if his head or arm had hit the door. 

you didn’t answer, still, waiting. 

“i’m leaving tomorrow and i wanted to see you before i left.” your heart skipped at his words, careful not to make a sound as you near the door. 

“if you’re sleeping i won’t bother you anymore but if you’re not,” you could hear the old stutter he had coming back, his words meshing together as he tried to regain control, “and you’re choosing to stay quiet, i…” he sighed, his forehead thumping down as he rested it on the door, “i wanted to apologize for the feast. i shouldn’t have left you alone, and if you’d open the door, i would explain why…” he could see the flicker of the candle from underneath the crack, and saw the way it blew away, darkness following suit. 

you walked back to your bed, turning your back to the door as you set the candle down on your table. 

“goodnight,” his voice was quieter than before, and you felt guilty, but pushed the bitter feeling down.

a couple of seconds later you heard him let out a sigh of defeat, his footsteps leading away from your bedroom as you curled into yourself, hoping you would let your heart stop taking control of what your head should be doing. 

---

gojo didn’t return for a while, and you grew more impatient by the day. 

it normally took him and his men a week at maximum, and once two had passed, you felt yourself growing uneasy. 

you tried to act as passive as you could, but even myra could pick up on your growing apprehension. you have never voiced your worries over your husband before, but she knew this wasn’t like any other time. 

when you went to bed, the only thing you could dream about was that night, your brain re-running the images as you tossed and turned. 

“are you alright?” he asked, his hands on your elbows as you could barely speak, your blurry vision impairing your sight. you could only see a mop of white in the darkness, your stomach betraying you as you tried to keep the sick down. 

“i don’t feel too good,” you mumbled, trying to put some distance between the two of you as you pushed him away, only to feel him coming closer as he placed a hand on your forehead and then to your cheeks. 

“you’re burning up,” he muttered under his breath, guiding you gently so that you wouldn’t trip over your feet. 

“i’m sorry, you can go back inside, i don’t want to keep you out here.” you were slurring your words as you tried not to throw up on him. you wiped at your eyes so that you could see him better, only to reel back in utter shock to see the face of your childhood friend frowning down at you. 

your mouth formed in the shape of his name, going to say something else, before you hunched over, feeling his strong hands pat your back and keep the hair out of your face as you felt your world tilt on its axis. 

you ate your dinner at the table, eyeing his empty seat as you tried to shove his last night out of your mind. you shouldn’t feel this way, especially about a man who feels nothing towards you, but your little heart was churning in its confines the more you let yourself think about it.

sitting in the same spot where the feast took place only brought back the venomous taste in your mouth, and so you pretended that you were back home, eating somewhere without the worry of your life weighing you down like a thousand weights on your shoulders. 

myra tried her best to distract you, but she could see the distant look in your eyes, how your voice never seemed too genuine. she began to worry for you, but it seemed like your mind was fixed on one thing. 

until you found yourself pacing around your room, just like you were the night you last heard of him, playing with the ring on your finger as the moon carded through your window. 

“my lady,” you heard myra through the door, her voice shaky and a bit more on edge than usual, “there’s-” but before she could finish it slammed open, revealing the man you’d been biting your nails over, standing in the flesh.

his eyes were a dark blue, squinted as they looked right through you. his chest heaved as he looked like he was trying to catch his breath. you could see the streaks of blood that lined his usually clean clothes, the red that stained his cheeks and jaw. 

he looked feral, and it was throwing you off balance. 

“out.” he snapped at myra, and before you could scold him for his tone she fled, the door shutting roughly behind her. 

the two of you could only stare at each other. you didn’t know what to think after weeks of uselessly worrying over him, not knowing about his well-being, to see him here, in front of you, but looking different than he ever had. 

“are you alright?” 

you could barely get it out, the works sticking on your tongue as you took a tentative step forward, not knowing what to do with his state of being. 

he eyed the blood on his shirt, wiping at his cheeks as if he had forgotten it was there. he didn’t look too dirty, less dirty than one would expect from a five week endeavor through the woods, but he didn’t look too good either. 

“you were awake.” is all he says, his chest still moving up and down as though he couldn’t breathe properly. 

“that night i came by, you were awake. i saw your candle, i heard your footsteps.” he says this as though it’s fighting its way out of his mouth as if it’s all he could think about to tell you. 

“i,” you pretend that you don’t care, shrugging, “i wasn’t up to talk.” 

“you were with suguru.” he snaps, his tone shocking you, and he steps back as if he had shocked himself. he jammed his palms into his eyes, tilting his head upwards before he looked back at you. 

“for five weeks you were all i could think about. i wanted to come back, i wanted to tell you what i felt but we kept running into issues with other tribes and clans.” 

“what could you possibly think about that occupied your mind for five weeks?” you so desperately wanted your voice to come out strong but it sounded weak, as though you were hanging off of his every syllable. 

“you had told suguru that you were going to find your…own way out,” he took a step forward, and here you could see the scratches on his chest, the cuts on his arms, “i was praying to every god there was that you hadn’t found somebody in these past weeks, that you hadn’t…”

you could barely believe his words, not knowing if you should feel offended, shocked, worried, or a mix of all those three. 

“what business would it be to you if i did?” you hate that this was the response you settled on. hurt flashed across his face but he tried to regain his composure. 

“you are my wife-”

“and you are my husband!” you snapped and watched as he was momentarily taken aback by your outburst, but you continued your nose flaring, “you cannot argue with me on this when you left with some girl in the middle of our feast!” you felt all your emotions finally pouring out and you had no control over them, “everybody was talking about it, everybody was looking at me in pity!” your voice cracked, tears poking at your eyes as you pointed an accusatory finger at him. 

gojo looked down, running a hand through his hair as he pointed a finger back. 

“if you had let me explain myself, you would have known that she was trying to do what you thought she was. i left as quickly as i could but you would barely look at me!” you wanted to rip your hair out, cursing yourself for ever feeling any sort of worry for this man. 

“i know that this marriage was the last thing you wanted but at least you could play the part of a husband! you didn’t send a single note, anything to tell us that you were okay, that you were alive!” you heaved, fidgeting with your ring as you wiped at your cheeks, “and you come back here accusing me of adultery? all everybody could talk about was the fact that you were warming somebody else’s bed! they said a meeting never takes this long unless something…somebody else comes up.” your voice wobbles at the end, and you find yourself furiously rubbing your tears away, hiding your sniffing as though that would do anything.  

he paused upon seeing you cry, his face falling as he tried to step forward but you angled yourself away from him, hoping he’d get the hint. 

he wanted to hold you, to tell you that all the rumors you were hearing were false and that the only room he had left in his heart was for you. but he couldn’t blame you for feeling or thinking this way. hell, he was so sure that he’d open the door to find another man comforting you that he didn’t even stop to consider what must have been going through your head all these weeks. 

“one of the clans tried to attack us, and we weren’t ready for it. that is why we took so long.” 

you sniffle again, not caring for his explanation although it did soothe a part of your past self. 

“you could have at least sent a letter telling me what happened,” you fidget with your ring, your thumb running over the diamond, “everybody asked me questions that i should have had answers to, but i had no idea where you were or what you were doing…” he nods, his lips pressed into a thin line as he agreed with you. 

“you're right,” his voice was thick with emotion, the words slurring in his mouth as he found himself anchored in place, not knowing what to do. but you were rambling, your thoughts going on and on and you couldn’t stop yourself. 

“…but i know you don’t like letters, so the least you could have done was send a parchment saying i’m alive or something like that.” you rub at your nose again, feeling like all the weeks of worry we’re coming to a standpoint. 

he looked confused now, if anything, and scratched at his jaw. 

“what do you mean?” 

you scoff at the audacity, rolling your eyes as you feel anger prickle at your skin. 

“you never once responded to any of my letters. in my eyes, that must mean you have some sort-”

“letters? what letters?” 

you glance at him, taking in his shaking form. 

“come on gojo,” you feel embarrassed as he urges you to speak, having to spell it out for him, his eyes pleading with you to continue, “the ones from when you left for training.”

his mouth opens and then closes, looks at the ground and then back up to you as he shakes his head. you could hear your fireplace crackling in the background. the only sounds circling the room were the pops of ember and your breathing. 

“i…” he feels like there’s cotton in his mouth, hoping that you’re lying, “i never got any letters.” 

the fire crackled once again and you could almost hear a pin drop as you shook your head vehemently at his statement. 

“n-no, no you did. i wrote to you every week, i sent one every week for two years and you never responded and my mother said that you must have forgotten about me…” and you trail off, the tears in your eyes stoning as he furiously wipes at his own eyes, and for the first time since you had seen him fall down when he was a kid, you saw his own tears staining his cheeks. 

“nobody gave me your letters. i thought that you,” he takes a deep breath, tongue poking inside his cheek as he tried to control himself, “i thought that you didn’t care for me anymore.” 

you hug your midsection, your emotions running wild at his words. 

“i was under the impression that you hated me.” you admit, and he looks as though you stabbed him through the heart. if only others could see the powerful warrior now, stripped bare to his conscience and all he could think about was you. 

“why…why would you think such a thing?” you two inch closer without knowing it, longing to touch each other, wanting to know that the other was really there and that this wasn’t a figment of your imaginations. 

“gojo, you could barely looked at me that night at the gala and now it seems as though you, well, look at you - you’re flushed!” you’re grasping at straws, motioning towards his face,  twinged with pink as you rub at your nose, “you seem angry whenever i am near-” 

“the only person i am angry at is myself.” gojo whispers, but his voice echoed around the expanse of your skull. 

“yes, i’m aware,” you feel cold despite the fire in the corner, your tone carrying an air of know as you scorn, “i know the last thing you expected by comforting me was a marriage but-” 

“you think i am angry because i married you?” he was moving closer, his hands shaking, his eyes wet. you could see the ring on his finger glow in the dim light of the fireplace, how it shined brighter than any of the night skies, “the only good thing that has happened to me these last few months was being able to introduce myself as your husband. i know that i stripped you bare of any love you may have had for any other man, but call me selfish for feeling glad that i did.” 

you could barely focus on what was happening, his words sinking deep into your skin, going to your bones. 

“i told myself that you had forgotten about me those years i left. when i saw you that night i was so sure you had come with the intention of finding a suitor that i didn’t want to distract you, but then i saw that man come up to you…” and he couldn’t finish, choking on his words as he stuttered, and you saw a glimpse of the boy you had fallen in love with so long ago. 

“and i followed you out. if i knew that simply being alone with you would have gotten me married to you then i would have cornered you in a closet the moment i saw you enter the dining hall.” 

a tear rolls down your chin, splattering on the ground beneath you as you struggle to make sense of what he was saying. it felt as though the months of being married to him were weeks spent pacing around your own rooms, thinking the same worried thoughts, and not having the strength to confront each other about it. 

“you…you don’t hate me?” your voice is timid, almost not believing yourself as the statement tumbled out. gojo had the audacity to laugh a bit, shaking his head as strands of his hair fell into his face. 

“my every waking moment is spent thinking of you. when i was in training, you were all i could dream about, hoping that when i’d come home i could finally have you to myself. 

“you have control over my emotions, my mind, my soul, and i cursed myself for taking away your options for a husband, but the only thing i’ve wanted to do these past few weeks was to hold you in my arms. to tell you just how deeply i yearn for your love back.” 

he wiped at his cheeks, glistening in the faint light. he looked angelic, despite the grime and blood that decorated his clothing. you didn’t want to think about the men he had killed just to come back, to come back to you, and the thought of ever losing him hurt you more than when you spent nights wondering why he never responded to any of your letters. 

you couldn’t stop your feet from leading you toward him, and you could only watch as he met you in the middle, catching you with all his strength, holding you as if you weighed nothing, and it only took a few seconds before your lips collided. 

it was rushed, and messy as you felt his hands holding you as if you carried the weight of the universe. your teeth clashed, your tears staining each other's skin as your hands gripped at his hair, using it for leverage as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, enjoying the whimper that escaped your lips when he nipped at yours. 

it was what years of longing and desperation felt like. how it felt like you two just molded into each other as if your bodies were cut out with the other in mind. you felt like your heart was about to stop beating, and you knew gojo felt the same with the way he’d whine against your lips, wanting you more than you could have ever imagined. 

“we’ve been stupid people, haven’t we?” you whispered as you pulled away, trying to catch your breath as he smiled against you. if only you knew just how much he’d been wanting to kiss you like this, to see your swollen lips as you looked at him from beneath your eyelashes. you were his venus, his only saving grace, and he could only vex himself for ever making you feel anything but love. 

“very, “ he pressed a kiss to the corner of your eyes, “very,” to your nose, “stupid,” his lips were on your cheeks, feeling like he was breathing in new air at the sound of your laughter, “people.” he pressed his lips to yours again, cherishing in the way you whined at the harshness. 

he had spent months convincing himself that you no longer cared for him. weeks of perilous training to only come back to a bed and dream of a girl who didn’t share his emotions when in reality you did. he wants to track down the letters you had sent him, to read every word carefully, as if each sentence carried its own riddle inside of it. he wanted to apologize for never having the honor of experiencing your skilled penmanship, for leading you to believe that he had simply forgotten about you. 

“gojo,” your fingers curl in his tunic, your heat transferring, trying to be rational in such an irrational state of being, “you’re bleeding, i should call for the doctor.” he didn’t stop kissing your face, moving to your jaw as he smiled hearing you shudder. 

“it’s not my blood,” he murmured and you wanted to smack him for how cocky he sounded, “and don’t call me gojo.” he nipped at your lips again. 

“husband?” you found yourself smiling at the title, but he shook his head. you saw how he was trying to hide his own grin. 

“sire?” you tested it out teasingly, hating how it sounded. he seemed to agree with the way he grimaced at the name. 

“my lord?” he wanted to bottle up your laughter forever, knowing he could get drunk off of the sound. his nose nudged up at your jaw, pressing wet kisses wherever he could. 

“hmm, what about my liege?” you're curling a strand of his hair around your fingers letting him settle you down on your vanity as you spread your legs so he could slot between them. 

“my men call me that.” he says, cringing as it falls off your mouth. you pretend to think, not knowing how you were able to live without this banter for as long as you did. 

“satoru?” you felt breathless saying it after so long. but he still didn’t seem to find it satisfactory enough, a pout on his lips as he wanted you to find a better one. 

“close, but only when you’re angry with me.” you tuck that information in the back of your mind for if you ever need to scold him, your cheeks flushed as he interlocks his fingers through yours. 

“‘toru…?” his lips broke into a giddy smile, and you had to control yourself as he swooped back in for a kiss. his eyes were so much softer when he laughed, the kind ones you fell in love with so many nights ago. 

“there it is,” his voice was husky, raw as your fingers gripped at the baby hairs at his nape. he was taking your air away with him and you couldn’t find it in yourself to fight back for it. 

“i forgot how cheeky you can be,” you bite your lip to keep the moans inside, feeling feverish as his tongue ran over his love marks, not knowing what to do yourself as you scrambled to grab onto something to keep you afloat.

“you have no idea how much self-control it’s taken not to ravage you,” his breath is hot on your skin, and he’s tugging at your shirt, fingers slightly brushing upon your breasts, “every night you’d come down for dinner i wanted something different to eat.”

“stoppp,” you mewled, not used to this. he chuckles as his slender fingers work to untie the knot keeping you together, tugging at the string until it falls, revealing your naked chest, heaving as the fabric pooled at your hips. 

you wanted to cover yourself up under his heavy gaze, to take the fabric and hide, but you felt pierced by his stare. his eyes darted to yours as if checking to see if you were okay. when you gave him a timid nod, it seemed as though it prompted him to finally move. 

his fingers were gentle as they ran across your waist, large as they covered the soft of your stomach, eager as they went upwards. he looked like he was crazed and starved, as if you were his last meal and he couldn’t wait for the sweetness death would give. 

your breath stuttered as his fingers found your mounds, rubbing a soothing thumb over your nipples as his pupils grew. he was eager as he flicked them over and over, a cheshire grin growing as they hardened under his touch. 

“you’re perfect,” he murmured, dropping down so he could suckle at your tits, his spit shining in the light of the fire, and you tilted your head back, soft moans escaping as his tongue drew circles around your buds. 

“f-fuck, ‘toru, that’s,” you couldn’t even finish your sentence, his second hand coming to cup your other tit, not wanting to leave her unattended as he sucked and bruised, wanting to forever leave his mark on your untainted skin. 

“good?” he’s so cocky, and you want to smack the smug smirk off his devilishly handsome face. 

his knee is purposefully rubbing against your clothed clit, and you feel yourself subconsciously rubbing yourself against it. you hope that he can’t feel how drenched you are from him just sucking your tits, but he pinches you, pressing his tongue flat against your skin as he looks up through his lashes.

“horny from just me touching you?” he’s teasing you, it’s so painful the way you want, need him like oxygen. you tug on his hair roughly, bringing his spit-soaked lips back to yours as you bite down on his lower one, enjoying the groan you draw out from him. 

“don’t be mean ‘toru,” you taunt, and you feel him melt in your fingers, nodding to your request as he lowers himself down. 

he presses wet kisses down your torso, stopping just above your hips, his fingers hooking along the rim of your underwear, being careful and slow in his movements as he waits for any objections, making sure you’re okay with this. 

but you were in your own world, hitching your leg over his shoulders, drawing him in closer to you, sweat dotting your forehead as he licks a stripe over the cotton on your pussy, smiling to himself at the taste of you. 

you were so sweet, sweeter than any desert he’d indulge himself on. he was sure that once he had a taste of you he’d be able to repent, to go before any god, and to tell them that you were his religion.

he had spent countless nights, tossing and turning in his bed, the only thing putting him to sleep being the idea of coming home to you. running after you that night was him running home to you, regardless of where you were. he was glad he got your hand in marriage, but if he had to, he’d wait another ten years just to hold you in his arms again.

he peels your underwear off, a string of your arousal connecting to it, and he tucks it in his pants, for safekeeping. 

“you’re going to be the death of me.” he says against your heat, his nose rubbing against your clit as your eyes wring shut in pleasure. his hands grip your thighs, making sure you stay in place as he kitten licks around where you need him the most. 

“don’t let…don’t let any of your enemies hear,” your voice comes out in bits, your hand resting on the back of his head as your leg tightens around him, “don’t want them to come after me or something.” 

he snorts, pinching your thighs as if anybody could come within a ten feet radius of you without losing an eye. 

his lips come closer to where you desperately want him, a finger prodding at your tight entrance, his tongue finding your clit as he begins to suck. 

it’s all too much, the sensations far better than your own fingers have ever proved to be. 

his fingers are skilled, long enough that they reach deep within you. he sinks one fully in, your walls clamping around him as he continues sucking your clit, his teeth grazing it every so often, making your head thump against the wall. 

“talk to me, how do you feel?” his mouth discontented from your bud and you whine at the loss. he sinks in another finger to make up for it, but he doesn’t move them, waiting for your response. 

“‘s good,” one of your hands is fisting your discarded robe, trying to hold onto your senses as you desperately nod, “don’t stop ‘toru, please,” and he obliges, loving the sounds of your begging, but loving the sound of your pleasures more. 

his fingers stretch you open and you welcome the sting, your nails digging into him as you long for more. 

he switches his mouth with his hand every now and then, his tongue taking the place of his fingers as it licks at you, groaning at your taste as he eats you out with his entire being, his chin shining with your essence and his spit as his thumb rubs furiously at your clit. 

“mmhhh, just like that, fuck!” you’ve never heard your voice at this pitch, never knew it was possible to feel this way. his other hand reaches up to flick at your nipple, the extra sensation making white dot around your vision. 

you feel yourself getting closer to the sweet release, feel your wall clamp around him even tighter as that knot in your stomach builds to a crescendo. 

“come on, let go f’me, know you want to, know you can.” he spurs you on, his fingers unrelenting as they piston in and out of you, reaching that gummy spot that makes you go dumb.

“fuck, ‘toru, m’gonna, m’gonna come!” you cry out and you’re sure anybody walking past you could hear the debauchery. your thighs were starting to shake and you felt it all go black as you reached your high, your orgasm washing over you unlike anything you’ve ever felt. 

you creamed around his fingers, gushing around him as you wailed out, tears dotting your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling. you squeezed around him, wanting to never lose what this felt like, trying to catch your breath as his mouth never stopped sucking at your nub before he was sure your climax was over. 

when he finally pulled away the only thing that could be heard was the two of you, trying to come back down as stupid smiles made their way onto each of your faces. 

he was boyishly charming as he stood in front of you, licking yourself off of his fingers as he grinned at the taste. you couldn’t be bothered to be embarrassed after having him just between your legs, but you still felt a heat blossom in your chest. 

“so…” you awkwardly start, sweat dripping down your face from just how hot the room had suddenly gotten as you avert your gaze, “what now?” 

he shrugged nonchalantly, despite the fact that his heart was about to beat it’s way out of his chest. you let him pick you off of the vanity and tucked you safely away into his chest as he led you to your bed, gently setting you down in your mountain of pillows and blankets as you felt sleep etch away at you. 

“i’m going to clean you up,” he pressed a kiss to your hair, smiling at the way you giddy smiled at whatever he did, a dopey grin on your face as your hand searched for his, interlocking you fingers with his as if you didn’t want to watch him go, “if you let me.” 

you yawn, your head tilting as he sat down at the edge of your bed, still not letting go of your hand as your fingers run through the soft pelts beneath you. 

“and what about you?” your chin points the obvious hard-on growing in his pants. he looks down as if suddenly realizing, and he plays it off by looking back up to you with a wink. you felt your mouth going dry at the size of it, not knowing if you could even be able to take something as big as that. 

“for another day,” he promises, and you’re sure he’s not going to forget it. not like you want him to.

“and then?” 

your question lingers in the air. you don’t want to wake up to him acting like this never happened, as if your feelings were only a figment of your wildest dreams. but his eyes hold onto yours, never letting go as he brushes some strays away from your face. 

“and then i get a bigger bed for my room because there’s no way i’m letting you sleep here alone after this.” his thumb runs along the palm of your hand, his fingers tracing patterns into the soft of your legs. 

“and then?” 

“and then you tell me all the things i missed out on when i was gone. i’ll tell you about the time suguru shaved my head, and you’ll tell me about anything on your mind.” 

“what if i run out of things to say?” sleep is overtaking your voice, and you’re already nodding off, not even truly knowing what you were asking. 

“then i’ll make up stories so that you’re not bored.” he finds a clean towel, soaking it in water from a nearby pitcher as he drags it slowly across your body, as if your fragile and made of porcelain. 

“how do i know you’re not a dream? you might just be,” you yawn, rubbing at your eyes as your finger traces his ring, “you might just be my own mind tricking me.” your eyes are shutting, but the teasing smile on your face never leaves. 

“because a dream wouldn’t hide under a table with you if you asked.” he whispers, kissing your lips with a soft peck as he pulls the blanket over you, letting you sleep into a slumber as he crawls in next to you, holding you to his chest just as he did that night, just as he will every night from now on, and just as he longed for those nights he wished you next to him.

[jarofstyles]

Merlot

Hello my lovely ducklings. I promised a good age gap DILF sorta thing and I’m here to hand ‘em over. He’s getting some silver at the temples and she’s loving every second of it. Let me know what you think 🍷

Check out our Patreon for early access to the second part and 200+ exclusive writings

WC- 8k

Warnings- age gap, dilfrry, smut, oral (m + f receiving) unprotected sex (please wrap it up irl), exhibitionism, daddy kink if you squint, and all the fun stuff.

“I hate to ask this cliche question, and it absolutely pains me to ask in such an uncouth way- but do you come here often?” Peeking over the rim of the glass, amber liquid brushed his top lip and the ice cubs clanked as the smoky liquor hit his tongue.

God knew what he was doing- the girl in front of him looked too young for him, but she had struck up the conversation first. Commenting on his silver lion’s head ring and asking where he’d gotten it, wide eyed and eager as she looked up at him with that pretty pout and mascara coated lashes. Perhaps it was the crippling loneliness of divorce, maybe it was the hint of a buzz of his second drink, or even a hint of desperation that had him continuing the conversation with the younger woman as she took the bar stool in front of him- but she seemed receptive. Leaning into the conversation and keeping eye contact, she played into him.

"Cliches can be cute sometimes." She laughed as she placed her own glass down, now empty. "I don't, no. I'm not one for the whole going out thing. Not anymore. I was in uni, but I think as soon as you graduate they take away your tolerance card." Rolling her eyes playfully she felt a lick of satisfaction in getting a chuckle out of him. "And what about you? Do you like to come to bars with overpriced drinks to talk to random people who decide to invade your bubble to ask where your pretty jewelry is from?"

"Well, I can't say I make a habit of it, but sometimes a man needs to escape the responsibilities of reality- and as much as I adore my pets, I think they’re tiring of hearing my voice.” He shook his head as he flexed his fingers, looking back down at the conversation starter. Pretty eyes met his own. It had been so long since he felt flustered but she had done a pretty good job at making him feel a little off kilter in the best way. A break from the mundane.

“I’ll have to agree with you on them revoking your tolerance once you exit uni. Though I will say it’s a blessing in disguise. I wasn’t terribly into partying in my last year, considering I’d started getting awful hangovers. Almost like s’bad for you, or something.” He teased, leaning against the bar top. It was clear that they’d shifted closer to each other through their conversation and he tried to not get his hopes up, but he sort of did feel like she was giving him… those sort of eyes. “I don’t want to keep you from your friends, though.”

“You’re not.” She said simply, looking up at him. Usually, facial hair wasn’t something she considered much at all. Not many around her wore it, but she had to say the longer she looked at him, the more she liked it. It was just… masculine. Rugged, in a way, but he kept it groomed. This man was interesting all around, with pretty rings and a deep raspy voice, seafoam eyes and a little tiny gray streak starting near his temple. God, that was hot. “I’m plenty happy talking to you.”

His heart skipped a beat as she looked up at him, those eyes sparkling with something he hoped was interest, but at the very least looked like genuine intrigue. Nothing about their encounter led to her feeling otherwise. It was a nice change, feeling the ease of a conversation flow even if he stumbled on words when he accidentally looked down at her lips.

Fuck it.

He reached out, gently brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek. "I’m glad t’hear that. You're very easy to talk to." he said, his voice low and warm. The risk was there, initiating a bit of touch, but he had fo test to waters. See where this was headed. Was she looking for a safe haven? A reliable guy who didn’t look like a creep (hopefully), someone to buy her drinks as she pitied the older man at the bar, or… was this headed the direction the heat in his belly desperately wanted.

“Am I?” Her head tilted slightly, smile slightly shy but making no effort to move from where his fingers hovered slightly. “I do get told I have problems knowing when to shut up and let things be quiet, so I suppose that tracks. It can be nice in conversations.” Especially when he had seemed slightly apprehensive of her at first and now warmed up. “You’ve got a nice voice. It’s nice to talk to you.”

"Well, I suppose we'll just have to keep talking, then." He said softly, his voice growing even warmer as he leaned in closer, his eyes flicking back down to her lips briefly before returning to her eyes.

“I agree.”

Y/N could be considered bold at times, but she liked that he was showing some effort- some interest. It was give and take, push and pull, a fun little game as she was given a perfect chance when someone else approached the bar top from behind Harry. “Oop- come ‘ere.’ She laughed, gently tugging him in as her ankle hooked around the back of his knee to tug him into her. “Someone’s tryn’ to make an order.”

Now he was closer than she had anticipated, stood between her thighs as she sat on the barstool with her leg wrapped around his. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to get in your space.” The girl could feel his body heat. Fuck, he smelled so good. None of that… the familiar cheap colognes and aftershaves she was used to, not was it overpowering. Harry smelled expensive and spicy with some sort of leathery vanilla and she had to wonder what it was. "You smell really good..."

"No, no, it's fine..." He said softly, his voice trailing off as he looked down at her, their faces inches apart. He didn't move away, instead, he leaned in even closer, his hand resting on her knee. “Thank you.” The heat felt a little overwhelming in his cheeks. Pathetic to be a grown man blushing over such a simple compliment but he was so close to her now, body head radiating off of her and she smelled equally as good. “Um, so do you.”

He breathed in deeply, taking in her scent. It was a unique blend of floral notes, with a hint of citrus and a sweet, vanilla-like undertone. It was feminine, youthful, and intoxicating. Sweet and fresh. It didn’t choke him in floral and musk like the women who had been after him since his signature had barely dried on his divorce papers, but something that he vaguely remembered from his own days around her age. Perhaps that was a sign he should back off, but he couldn’t. He felt himself getting lost in the scent, his head spinning slightly as he continued to breathe her in.

His hand on her knee nearly burned but she relished in the feeling, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she smiled slightly at him. It was her first time attempting something like this. Older men were always a thing for her, a desire, but never one she felt bold enough to go for. Now, though, she wondered why she had waited. The feeling in her stomach and the delicate way she felt under his touch was something that had her nearly giddy.

“I like the mustache.” She pointed to it. “It’s a mature look. In a good way.” Of course she didn’t want to offend him, make him feel like she was calling him old. “Guys I’m around usually can’t pull it off. But you do.” Braving a touch, she let her fingers run over his jaw and felt a slight bit of scruff. “Are y’gonna go for a full beard? Or no?”

"Maybe..." Harry murmured, leaning into her touch. "Depends on how well it's received..." The joke was cracked softly, his eyes fluttering closed briefly as she touched his face. He let his hand slide a little higher up on her thigh, squeezing gently. "Thank you for the compliment though. Was hoping it wouldn’t be a bad thing cause I noticed y’looking at it.”

“Mm, I was. It’s nice.” Sexy. Her eyes felt heavy as she watched his lips curl in a slight smile. “ I’m assuming that there’s no missus at home?” She asked lightly. “You don’t seem like a cheater, Harry.” It was a tease, but he didn’t wear a ring on his ring finger. Usually she never gave men the benefit of the doubt but selfishly, she wanted to be right so she wouldn’t feel guilty about imagining her inner thighs raw from beard burn later tonight.

"No missus." He confirmed, his thumb rubbing small circles on her thigh as he opened his eyes to look at her. "Just me, and the office. I've been too busy to think about dating, let alone finding someone serious." He admitted honestly, his gaze lingering on her face. "I mean, I was married. Briefly." He said, his expression growing slightly somber. "But that's over now. It didn't work out." He shrugged, trying to downplay it, even though the divorce had been messy and painful. "What about you? Boyfriend at home?"

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out.” She frowned. It wasn’t something she’d pry on because she could see it bothered him a bit, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t curious. Nor that she didn’t feel bad. “I’m single, thank god. My last boyfriend was a complete prick.” Her nose wrinkled in disgust. “Cheated on me a few times on a boys holiday. Was stupid enough to post with other girls and think people wouldn’t send it to me just because he hid stories from me. but it was a relief, anyways.” It sounded cold, callous maybe, but it was the truth. “It’s just me now as I figure out what to do.”’

"He sounds like an idiot." He grumbled, his hand tightening lightly on her thigh. "You're too good for that." He paused, his eyes flicking over her features. "What do you mean, figure out what to do? Like, with life?"

“Yeah. Career wise mostly. I think I want to do writing but it’s been hard to tell lately. I do that part time and then work at a cafe as a waitress and pick up shifts when I need the money. I’m tired all the time so it’s taking me longer to simply sit down and figure out 100% what I want to do but, that’s life.” She shrugged. “So I get suckered into going out to bars with my coworkers and getting a buzz so I go up to a handsome man and demand to know where his ring is from, so it suppose it isn’t all bad.”

"Writing, huh?" There was intrigue in his voice as he took in her answer. The compliment wasn’t lost on him, and it fueled that bolder part of him that wanted to break out. "Like, books, or journalism? I happen to be in publishing, so if that’s something you’d like to walk about we can…." He trailed off, his thumb continuing to rub soothing patterns on her thigh. "It’s not the easiest thing to break into but you’ve got a lot going for you. I’d be willing to help you if you feel ready.” . That was a genuine offer, regardless if he got laid… but he still felt that the way she was looking at him had an undertone

"You should come by my office sometime, if you want." He offered, his voice low. "I mean, if you're interested in publishing. We could... talk shop. Or something." He added, his hand slowly creeping higher up her thigh as he spoke.

“Or something?” She grinned widely. “Are you making a pass at me, handsome stranger Harry?” Her fingers stroked down his jaw towards his neck, messing with the collar of his shirt.

"I mean, m’being serious about helping you but… Maybe a bit of flirting is happening." He whispered, tilting his head to the side to give her better access. "I mean, you did ask where my ring was..." He pointed out softly, his hand now resting high up on her thigh, fingers spread wide, said ring gleaming in the low light. "And I haven't exactly been getting much action since the divorce..."

Eyes fell down to his hand and back up to his face, ever so slightly spreading her legs more to allow him to step closer between them. The heel of her shoe gently ran over his calf, biting lightly on her lower lip as she tried to keep the smile off her face. “And is that the only thing you want from me?”

Harry's breath hitched as she spread her legs, his heart racing at the subtle gesture. His hand tightened ever so slightly on her thigh, his fingers digging in just a bit as he leaned in closer. "No," He admitted quietly, his voice husky. "But it's a good start."

“Tell me.” She slipped her hand down to let them curl into the fabric of his shirt. “I’ve never been with an older man before, Harry. Are you all just as shitty as the younger ones? Or are you better?”

Harry's eyes darkened as she slipped her hand under his shirt, the rough pad of her fingers against his skin making him shiver. "I'm better." He said confidently, his voice deep and rumbling. "I know what I want, and I know how to treat a woman."

The man’s hand tightened on her flesh as she let out a breathy sigh, his eyes never leaving hers. "With respect," He said simply. "With kindness and attention. I open doors, I pull out chairs, I make sure they're comfortable and cared for. And in bed…" There was a pause, a slight smirk on his face as he averted his gaze for a single moment.

“In bed?” She echoed, looking up at him expectantly. “Don’t keep me on edge here. I’m dying to know.”

Harry smirked at her, his hand moving higher up her thigh, stopping right at the hem of her panties. His knuckles could feel how humid she was, no denying she was wet. It was hard to keep focused, but he had to. "Well, Y/N… I make sure they're satisfied," He said, his voice low and sultry. "I take my time, I pay attention to their body, I explore and learn what makes them tick."

“So you won’t just cum and roll over and fall asleep?” She hummed, her other hand running under his blazer and over his back. “Because I’m real tired of giving it my all and barely getting a subpar orgasm out of it. It’s why I was trying to be celibate for a while…”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "Not on my watch," He said, his thumb brushing against her panties. "I'll make sure you're thoroughly satisfied, multiple times if needed. I'll hold you close, kiss you, tell you how beautiful you are, while I make love to you."

“Ooo… he makes love..” She cooed, giggling lightly before leaning into whisper the next words to him. Was this an older man thing? Or a literature person sort of thing? Waxing poetically about the things he could provide, it all sounded amazing. But she had to know. “But can you fuck? Can you make me feel it for days, bruise my ass, get me so wet I ruin your sheets?”

Harry groaned quietly her words, his thumb pressing against her panties, feeling how soaked they were. "Fuck, yes." He growled under his breath, his other hand reaching up to cup her cheek. "I can be rough, I can be gentle, I can do whatever the hell you want. All y’have to do is ask."

Y/N let out a shuddering breath as his thumb brushed over her clit through her panties, looking to the side as she attempted to see if anyone was paying attention- but considering how crowded it was tonight, no one was paying them much mind. “So you’ll take me back to your place and make me cum? That’s what I want.”

Harry nodded, his thumb rubbing against her. "Yeah, sweetheart, I'll take you back to my place and make you cum so hard you'll see stars. And then I'll keep going, as long as you want, until you can't take it anymore."

“God.” The girl’s head rolled toward and thumped on his shoulder, feeling him chuckle as he rolled his thumb over her swollen clit. The lacy scrap of material she considered panties did little to hide how slick she was, the older man having plenty of fun playing with her as she turned her head and nipped her teeth into his throat.

Harry let out a low hiss at the sharp little bite, his hand still pressing against her clit through her panties. He reached into his pocket with his free hand and pulled out his phone, quickly typing out a text message before putting it back in his pocket.

“W-What are you doing?” She murmured, slowly pressing her lips to his skin and staining it with her lipstick. He was casual about playing with her, acting like stroking her clit was second nature as his other hand adjusted the straps of her dress back up from where they’d begun to droop.

Harry smirked as she inquired, his thumb still making small circles against her clit. He leaned in closer to her ear and whispered, "I'm sending a message to my housekeeper, to make sure the bed is prepared for when we get back to my place."

“God, M’gonna suck your dick so good.” She sighed, a tipsy giggle leaving her throat. “It’s big. I knew it was when I came over here but… shit, I’m gonna feel it for days.”

Harry grinned as she grumbled against his neck, his hand leaving her panties to grip her hip possessively. "You're going to love it, baby. I'm going to stretch your little mouth wide, and you're going to take every inch like a good girl." He crooned low in his throat. “But you need to get that pretty ass up and come t’the car with me. My driver is here.”

——-

Y/N let out a squeal of delight as Harry tossed her into his bed. His Californian King with a canopy, four postered, hand craved fucking bed frame, his shirt unbuttoned, belt undone and jacket on the floor. Her dress was over her hips and she wasn’t sure exactly how they’d gotten here, but what she was sure of was the fact that she really did like kissing him. “Kiss me.” She demanded, grabbing his scruffy face as he crawled up the bed and hovered over top of her.

Harry chuckled at her demanding tone, his mustache brushing against her lips as he obliged her request. He kissed her deeply, his hand wrapping around her jaw to pull her close. As they made out, he let go only momentarily to reach down and grab her dress, yanking it up over her head and tossing it carelessly aside.

That left her in just the pathetic excuse of lace panties, as she had forgone the bra for the sake of the dress, and there was no complaints on his end. Her hand pushed at the shoulder of his shirt, trying to get it off of him. “Want you closer.” She mumbled, leaning into him with a mewl as he pulled back to do as she asked. It was erotic and hot and she was surprised by the amount of tattoos he had, but god, did she want to see more of him.

Harry grinned, feeling her warm hands pushing at his shirt. He lifted his arms, allowing her to pull it off of him. His tattoos were extensive, covering most of his arms, chest, and back. Inquisitive hands ran over her sides, marveling at her form compared to his own build.

The man bent down and started to place kisses along her collarbone and up her neck. His rough hands squeezed her sides gently, thumbs brushing along her ribs. He continued to kiss and nibble at her neck, his facial hair tickling her sensitive skin. He whispered, "Wrap your legs around my waist, baby."

She did as asked, eyes fluttering shut as she could feel him through his trousers. Of course, she’d been right. The man’s cock was big like she had expected, and it was thick. Throbbing against her through the fabric, her mouth watered slightly as she rubbed herself against him, fingers finding his hair as he made his way down her throat. “Fuck, it’s been so long.” The slight scratching of the facial hair only made her feel more sensitive, like she was on a live wire. It was decided that she definitely liked it now.

Harry groaned at her words, the sound coming out more like a rumble from his chest. He continued to kiss and nip at her throat as she ground herself against him. His hands squeezed and gripped her ass, encouraging her movements. "God, you feel so damn good, and m’not even inside you yet."

Harry paused for a moment, looking up at her with a heated gaze. "You're so precious, so sweet... I've never been with anyone like you before." His voice was gruff, filled with desire. He ran his hands up her sides, marveling at her smooth skin. The curves, the indents, all of it was new and exciting.

“No?” She asked softly. “I’ve never been with an older man either. Kinda like it.” There was no hesitation in admitting it. “Was your ex wife not good to you, Harry?”

Harry's expression darkened briefly at the mention of his ex-wife. "She wasn't... attentive. And she certainly never looked at me the way you are now." He buried his face in her neck once more, kissing and nuzzling her skin.

“No?” It was astounding. “I don’t know how. If I had a man like you…” She let out a breathy laugh. “You’d have to pry me off of you. you are so attractive, so sweet… Can’t imagine why she wouldn’t be all over you, all the time.” It wasn’t something she could really understand. She barely knew the guy but she liked what she saw, and she liked it a lot.

Harry's heart swelled with pride at her words. He felt his ego growing a bit, having this beautiful young woman fawn over him. "I think she was always more interested in the status and prestige that came with being married to me, rather than actually being in love with me." It wasn’t something he liked to think about but in this instance he felt okay with it. If it hadn't ended, he wouldn’t end up here.

His lips continued to kiss and caress Y/N, his hands roaming over her curves almost in awe of what he had his hands on. It wasn’t what he had expected. People watching at the bar was his goal, really. He had one night stands a few times but he didn’t necessarily want this to be a one time sorta of thing. Not when she smelled this good and her lips tasted like cherry wine. He wanted to know what books she liked just as much as he wanted to know how she looked when she came. "But now I have you in my bed, and you're looking at me like I'm the most desirable man you've ever seen, so I think m’doing okay." He crooned, nipping at her neck.

“Because you are.” The girl purred. “All man and power in the best way. Not socially, but in what you are. You exude it.” Her cunt rubbed against him, making her eyes lull. “I knew you’d have a big dick. Knew it just walking up, how you stood. I wanted it inside of me.”

Harry let out a low chuckle, his voice a deep rumble. "Is that right? You wanted me inside you from the moment you saw me?" His hands gripped her backside firmly, spreading her cheeks as she ground against him. "Well, you're going to get it, baby."

“Mmm… I want it now.”

Y/N nearly whimpered as he pulled away but quickly shut up as she watched him stand up, hands working the button of his trousers. It took her seconds to lift up and get on her knees in front of him, shooing his hands away to take over. it had been months since she’d given head and while she wasn’t a normal lover of it, she had been dying to get her hands on him.

Harry watched with heavy-lidded eyes as she pushed his hands away and undid his pants herself. He bit his lower lip as she slowly revealed what she'd been craving. "You don't have to do that, baby." He said hoarsely, knowing full well that he wanted her to- but he wouldn’t make her. It would be more than okay if he focused on her. He got off on giving, and that’s what he focused on.

“Need to.” She gave him a look as she slowly tugged the zipper down, guiding his trousers down before palming him over his briefs. “Fuck, I’m gonna be full of this.”

Harry let out a low moan at her grip and the words that followed. The image of her full and well used was enough to send any red-blooded man to their knees, but he just stood there in front of her, letting her take control, letting her give him pleasure. He watched as she pulled his boxers down, freeing his length. His hands moved to cup the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair. He could see the lust in her gaze, and he couldn’t help but sigh again at the sight of her.

His thick, veined shaft jutted out proudly from a trimmed thatch of dark hair. The head was a dark, angry red and already glistening with precome. The older man let out a sharp breath as she wrapped her fingers around his shaft, slowly starting to stroke him. He watched intently as she gripped his cock, sliding it over the sensitive length, causing it to pulse in her grip.

A shiver of pleasure ran down her spine as she watched his control come undone. Her eyes were locked onto him, watching his cock pulse and throb in her hand. She could feel it grow harder with each stroke, leaning herself down and sticking out her tongue for a taste.

The sensation of her tapping tongue against the tip of his cock made him shudder, watching the precum string from his slit to the pad of her pink tongue. He looked down at her, seeing the hot promise in her eyes- this was going to be good and he knew it. She slowly began to slide the head of his cock back and forth between her lips, teasing it with her tongue.

Y/N wasn’t one to call any cock pretty, but she would dare to say it for him. Harry’s cock was appealing in the way most others hadn’t been. Maybe part of it was her overwhelming attraction to him in general, but she felt even more eager to make him feel good than she had with anyone else in the past. “I want to take it in my throat. I can do it, I promise. Jus’ need your help.” Her plea was finished with a kiss to the tip before opening her mouth, looking up at him to let him take over.

He guided her head forward gently, encouraging her to take more of him into her mouth. "Relax your jaw, baby, you can take it." He coaxed softly, his voice laced with desire. As Y/N did as he asked, Harry felt his cock slide deeper into her warm, wet mouth. Her lips stretched around his girth, pushing in slowly before he felt the tip of his cock hitting the back of her throat. He could feel her nose pressing against his pubic bone as she struggled to take him all in. “Shh, sweetheart. Just gotta get it wet for me, show me what you can do.”

He held her head steady, his hands gently gripping her hair as he started to slowly thrust his hips. The sound of his thick cock sliding in and out of her mouth filled the room, along with the occasional gagging noise as she struggled to accommodate his size.

"You're doing so well, baby," Harry praised, his voice low and gravelly. "Look at you, takin’ it like a good girl. You're gonna make me come so hard today, aren’t you, sweetheart? Just like that, that's it- relax that throat for me..."

As Harry continued to talk to her, his sweet words and praise, Y/N's eyes began to water from the effort of taking him so deep. She gagged a few times, her hands coming up to his thighs for support, but she refused to pull away for longer than a few seconds to catch her breath.

Her cheeks hollowed and her jaw ached, but she was determined to take him all in. Harry's hands moved to the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her closer, fucking her mouth with more urgency. "That's it, baby. You're making me so hard... S’been so long... Been ages since anyone’s made me feel like this..." Harry's voice trailed off into a low moan as Y/N finally managed to take him all in, her nose pressing against his lower abdomen. “Tha’s it, right there- fucks sake.”

Harry's hips began to thrust involuntarily, fucking her mouth with shallow pumps as he held the back of her head, still buried deep in her throat. He released the grip, trying to urge her off- but she didn’t want to. "Fuck... you’ve got t’pull off, sweetheart..." he groaned, his breathing heavy and erratic. “Need t’fuck you.” Y/N whimpered around his thickness, her eyes watering as she shook her head slightly, indicating that she wasn't ready to give up yet. She wanted to taste him, to drink him down like he had with her. Harry's grip tightened in her hair, his voice strained.

"Babe...you've gotta-you've got to... please," Harry begged, his voice cracking as she continued to suck him off, her head bobbing and nose brushing his thatch of hair, making his eyes clench shut. "If you don't stop now, M’gonna, fuck...I'm gonna cum in your mouth..."

Y/N whimpered, her hands gripping his thighs tightly as she continued to suck him enthusiastically, eager to taste him. Harry's breathing became rapid and shallow, his fingers tightening in her hair as he struggled to hold back. "Y/N, last chance...I'm-"

The girl moaned as she felt him stiffen, his hips bucking forward as he finally gave in and let go, filling her mouth with his warm release. Watching his face fall in ecstasy, it was going to be worth the soreness tomorrow. She struggled to swallow it all, some of it dripping out of her mouth and down her chin. Harry's knuckles were white from gripping her hair so tightly, his body trembling as he came deep in her mouth. The sight of her swallowing him down was almost too much for him to handle, and he had to close his eyes and focus on not passing out. It truly had been a long fucking time.

As Harry finished cumming, Y/N eagerly cleaned his sensitive prick with her tongue, licking and sucking until he was completely clean. She ran her tongue along the veins and underneath the head, making him shudder and pull back. "Too sensitive...God, you're so good at that." he praised breathlessly. There was slight disbelief in there too, a slight tingling in his thighs as he looked at her as she pressed sloppy kisses to his hip bone. Mascara smeared under her eyes and lipstick a faded smeared mess, he wondered how he had gotten this lucky.

Harry needed a moment to catch his breath, his heart still racing from the intense orgasm. He looked down at Y/N, her messy appearance only making her more adorable to him. "You know what would be perfect right now?" he asked, his voice still shaking slightly.

“What?” Her voice croaked, feeling his thumb brushed away some of the tears on her cheek that had fallen from the gagging.

"Letting me get a taste of that pussy I've been fantasizing about." Harry suggested, his eyes still lingering on her messy and sated appearance as he pulled her up and pushed her to lay back down on the bed. “S’my turn now. Spread those perfect legs and let me see that cunt.”

Y/N obediently spread her legs wide, letting Harry see her dripping wet pussy. He let out a low groan at the sight as he got on his knees, his thumbs spreading her lips apart to reveal her slick folds. He buried his face between her thighs, inhaling her scent deeply before diving in and licking her from asshole to clit. There was no wasting any time or pretending to be shy about a single thing.

A started squeak left her mouth as her head popped up, hands gripping his head as he dove right in with little hesitation. Harry hadn’t seemed like the type to have any reservations in taking what he wanted, and it was being proven by how his tongue slid over her most sensitive parts.

He continued to eat her out with reckless abandon, his tongue fucking her pussy as if it belonged to him. Her breathing was heavy as he sucked on her clit, nibbling at it gently before returning to lap at her folds. His hands gripped her ass, spreading her cheeks wide to give himself better access to her tight hole. He wanted to have it all. “S’this okay, baby?”

“Uh-huh.” Y/N hadn’t really had anyone touch her there before but she couldn’t say she hadn’t been curious and self explored. It was always something she wanted to play around with and it felt exciting, handing herself over to the man like that.

Harry grinned mischievously against her wet flesh, his hands spreading her wider as he buried his face deeper. He pushed his thumb against her hole, slowly sliding it inside as he continued to lap at her cunt. “You taste so good, sweetheart...” he murmured, his voice muffled by her flesh.

He added a second finger to her ass, scissoring them apart slowly as he tongue fucked her pussy. Y/N's legs started to shake as the dual stimulation became too much. She gripped his hair tightly, her back arching off the bed as she let out a high pitched whine. "Ah!"

Y/N's fingers tightened painfully in Harry's hair, her knuckles turning pale as she tried to stay grounded while the pleasure consumed her. His tongue was spearing into her soaking wet hole over and over, curling up to rub against that spot inside her that made her see stars. And his fingers… god, those hands.

His fingers were stretching her asshole, pushing past the initial resistance and sinking deep into her tight heat. He scissored them further apart, popping her open wider as he fingered her ass. Y/N's legs shook violently, her whole body trembling as she felt herself on the verge of a massive orgasm.

"Harry...it's...too- please..." She babbled, unable to form a full sentence as he continued to stuff her holes. It had never been like this before, no one had even come close. He ignored her pleas, instead burying his face deeper and pumping his fingers faster. She felt so stuffed, so full, the pressure mounting inside her unbearably.

He felt her whole body stiffen, her pussy fluttering on his tongue as she cried out. She gushed against his mouth as she came, the feeling so intense and overwhelming that the waves of pleasure forced her to collapse against him.

Harry worked her through it as she trembled and whimpered with pleasure, his fingers still buried in her ass and his tongue still buried in her pussy. He felt a sense of pride and accomplishment, knowing that he'd reduced this beautiful young woman to a whimpering, shaking mess. It was not only an ego boost from what had been lacking for a while now, but he liked seeing how she reacted to him. He alone had done it.

Harry slowly lifted his head, wiping her from his face as he grinned wickedly at Y/N. "You taste even better when you're coming apart for me, sweetheart." He brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean while maintaining eye contact with her. "And you’re tight everywhere, hm?”

Y/N stared at Harry, her eyes glazed over and pupils dilated from the intense high she was still riding down from. Her mouth was slightly parted, breath hitching as she watched him clean her off his hands. A soft blush spread across her cheeks, embarrassed yet turned on by his bold actions.

"H-Harry...that was...I've never...I mean...no one's ever..." She stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence even still.

He chuckled darkly, enjoying how flustered she was. "No one's ever played with your pretty little hole before?"

“No.” Her face felt hot as he grinned up at her. He seemed more than pleased and it made her feel good to know he was happy but still, she had the slight embarrassment that only came with the territory.

"Well, consider that box checked then." He said smugly, crawling back up her body to kiss her passionately. She could taste herself on his lips and tongue, the musky flavor a testament to what he'd just done to her.

He grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head as he continued to ravage her mouth. She mewled into the kiss, arching up against him as she felt his hard length pressing into her stomach. "Does my pretty girl want more?"

“Mhm.” She nipped his lip. “Want you inside of me.” Was she still sensitive from her orgasm? yes. But she had been desperate to get him inside of her since she’d first spoken to him. “Do you- are you clean?”

He pulled back slightly, his breath hot against her cheek. "I'm always clean, sweetheart. I get checked regularly and I'm very particular about who I share my dick with." He gave her wrists a gentle squeeze before releasing them, reaching over to his pants to his back pocket to grab his wallet.

“I-“ Her hand reached for his wrist. “I don’t wanna use one.” The words laid in the humid air for a moment. It was risky, sure, as any sort of unprotected anything was, but she didn’t want anything in between them. “I want t’feel you inside of me…”

He groaned at her words, his eyes darkening with desire. "Christ, doll. You're gonna be the death of me." Leaning down to kiss her again, his tongue traced over her bottom lip before slipping inside her mouth. He took his time, savoring every inch of her. His lips found the sensitive spot behind her ear, causing her to shiver in anticipation. His hands made their way under her hair, feeling the warmth of her skin.

“Can I push in, baby?” He asked with a low tone, his lips tracing her collarbone. At her nod, he wasted little time. Poor thing hadn’t been fucked right before, and he would happily give her a proper experience. Reaching down between them, he positioned himself at her entrance. With one slow thrust, he entered her fully, feeling the warmth and tightness of her around him. His eyes rolled back in pleasure, as he buried the tip inside of her. “Fuck, thank you.”

He groaned as he pushed into her, feeling the way her body welcomed him. He paused for a moment, giving her time to adjust and letting himself feel the depth of her wet heat around him. His hands reached up to cup her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples.

Being with a younger woman was different for him, but maybe it was just her- he realized as he moved inside of her. It was like being with a whole new sense of being, one who was full of energy and life. Everything about her was so fresh and vibrant, from her tight little pussy to her perfect tits and gorgeous face.

He continued to thrust into her, feeling the way her walls tightened around him. His hands moved down from her breasts, over her soft stomach and to her hips, exploring whenever he could.

His movements were slower, each thrust deliberate and measured. He wanted to savor the feel of her, the way her body yielded to his. He was drawn to watch her face, loving the way her eyes fluttered shut and her mouth fell open as he filled her. "Look at me," he murmured. She opened her eyes, looking at him with a dazed expression. "Good girl, like t’see those pretty eyes." The man sighed, unable to resist praising her. He continued to thrust into her slowly, each movement filled with lust and desire.

“Fuck.” She kept her eyes on him as her hands ran over his hot shoulderbaldes, keeping that contact as he dipped all the way back home as deep as he could. Her mouth fell open and a high pitched noise left her throat without her permission, brows furrowed. “It’s never been that d-deep.”

He grinned at her, loving the way her inexperience made her react to him. "That's because no one's ever taken the time to stretch you out right." He leaned down to kiss her neck, his hips continuing to move in slow, deep thrusts.

“Where the fuck have you been, then?” She laughed breathlessly, letting her eyes fall back closed as he kept the thrusts slow and deep, relishing every inch he took. her body was lax and hot, his for the taking. Right now she felt like he could do anything and she would welcome it. “Are all older guys like this, or is it j-just you?”

He chuckled darkly against her neck, "There's a reason why women often prefer older men, doll- but M’gonna say for greeds sake, s’just me." He suckled at her skin, his hands sliding down to grip her thighs and push them back farther, opening her up even more to his slow, deep thrusts.

“Oh, shit.” Her mouth fell open and he welcomed it, sliding his tongue back inside her mouth and humming at the taste of her against him. The fact there was not a single barrier, albeit risky for the first time fucking, made it even hotter.

His movements became gentler, his hands caressing her skin instead of gripping it. "You like that?" he murmured against her lips, his hips rolling into hers instead of thrusting. "You like knowing that there's nothing between us?" He pulled back slightly, looking down at her with a heated gaze. "I want you to look at me when I ask you something," he said, his voice low and commanding as he took her eyes. "Are you on any birth control?"

“Y-Yeah. Uh-huh.” Her eyes wide, she looked up at him hazily as she wrapped her legs further around his hips. “Don’t pull out when you cum. Please- I know m’crazy, but I need… need it.” Y/N knew she was insane for it, but their connection was so strong, every thrust inside of her, hitting places she didn’t know existed prior to this… she needed it.

His expression softened, a coo leaving his mouth as he nodded at her. How precious. "Alright, sweetheart. I promise I won't pull out." A dumb decision on his part too considering they’d just met but in the midst of it all, it was all he wanted to do. His hips began to move again, his pace quickening as he felt the heat of her around him. "You're going to take it all then, aren't you?"

“Yeah.” She mewled. From the sounds and feel alone she knew she was making a mess on his cock, but she had a feeling he was enjoying it every time he snuck a glance between them. “Take everything you give me, Daddy.” It was a risk, but she wanted to see what he’d do.

His face contorted with pleasure, his brow furrowing and his jaw clenching. "Good girl…" he hissed, his voice low and gravelly. He buried his face in her neck and thrust into her with more need, his movements becoming more urgent. "You're going to make me cum, doll."

“Cum.” She begged. “Cum in me. Then fuck it into me. Please.” Her nails dragged over his toned back as she clung to him, his bed creaking as he fucked into her welcoming, wet pussy.

He let out a primal grunt and slammed into her one last time, his cock pulsing as he filled her with his hot, thick cum. He held himself inside her, his hips jerking as he pumped his load deep into her cunt. "Fuck, baby... I'm going to fucking fill you up."

But he wasn’t done. Not in the slightest.

With his cum still pouring into her, he reached under her and grabbed her thighs, spreading them wide apart. Observing the mess he made, he fixed his fingers on her clit as he fucked the cum into her just like she asked. “I gave you what you wanted, darling. Give me what I need too, mm?” His lips brushed her cheek, feeling the beginnings of her orgasm. She just needed a little extra, and he was more than happy to provide.

Y/N squirmed slightly as she felt it creep up on her faster than she could anticipate. The pulse of his cock as it dribbled the last of his cum inside of her, the feel of his facial hair brushing her tender skin and his fingertips rubbing quick circles over her clit, it was impossible to keep from holding back. Heat boiled in her stomach as she tried to tell him, but it came on quicker than she could speak.

A broken moan left her lips as her body shook under him, eyes burning with tears of pleasure as he fucked her messy cunt and continued the circles until she pushed his hand away, grabbing his face and kissing him far more messily than she would have done in any other capacity- but this felt right. Fucked out and wobbly, melting into the bed as he slowly stopped the thrusts and stayed buried in her.

“Mm- baby. Sweetheart…” he pulled back to look at her. “You alright? Tell me how you’re feelin’.” He needed to check in on her, make sure she was feeling properly taken care of. Just by the look of it alone he had a feeling she felt that way, but he wanted to hear it from her pretty lips.

“I’m so good.” She grinned, drunk with the pleasure as she looked up at the handsome man. He was everything that she had dreamt about when she woke up sticky between her thighs. Aged like a fine wine.

“Can we go again?”