#it was btwn ' kiss it well ' kisses or a kiss on the cheek

[sorcerersseestars]

love sweet, taste bitter

Gojo Satoru x gn!reader

To you, Gojo Satoru is your silly, loving boyfriend. But Gojo Satoru is also the strongest sorcerer in the world, and that comes with its risks—for both you and him. When his Infinity fails to activate, your mission takes a turn for the worse.

Aka one of you gets hurt, and the other has to bear it.

Warnings: injuries and violence, a gun is used, blood loss, hidden inventory arc spoilers, fight btwn Gojo and reader, reader implied to be shorter/smaller than Gojo, slightly suggestive (not rlly), lowkey a lot of kissing tho??, bad communication skills, emotional whiplash bc gojo doesn't know what to do w his feelings

Word count: 9.2k

*Gojo and reader are in their early 20s

"Cursed technique reversal: red,” Gojo calls out casually, lazily flicking his right index finger at his target.

The curse—hardly an intelligent one, far from being special-grade—stares at the brilliant light with bulging eyes. It's a deer in the headlights, transfixed by Gojo’s power and paralyzed with fear. You can only imagine how that would feel.

You tear your eyes away from the sight of the curse disintegrating into nothing. It's not as gruesome as most curse exorcisms, considering the potency of Gojo’s attacks, but the curse’s expression fading into nothingness still makes your skin crawl. You almost pity the horrible creature.

In comparison to the macabre scene you just witnessed, Gojo's enthusiastic noise of approval nearly gives you whiplash.

"Another job well done by yours truly!" Gojo grins, giving you two thumbs up. "Now let's hurry before that new boba place closes. You said you really wanted to try it, right?"

It takes you a moment to respond, your mind still processing how insanely fast your boyfriend was able to eradicate a threat that would have taken you both a good strategy and a fair bit of time to exorcise. It took practically no effort for Gojo to eliminate, and you know that he fears no curse. For you, fear grips you each time you face off with a curse, no matter how big or small. It doesn't feel fair.

Your fingers curl into a fist as you struggle with your emotions, frustrated with yourself. When you look to him, beyond his shades and into his powerful eyes, something akin to envy pulls at your gut. It makes you feel sick—you're viewing him in the way everybody else sees him. But when he walks toward you, smiling so wide that he looks goofy, your thoughts of his abilities melt away and are replaced by an affection so strong that your chest hurts.

His eyes are so beautiful, their perpetual sparkle even visible from under the dark film of his shades. His cheeks are tinged pink from your constant gaze on him, and it still amazes you that you have the ability to make him fluster at all. His lips are stretched into a toothy grin, his eyes crinkling along in genuine happiness. Your stunning boyfriend that you still can't believe ever gained an interest in plain old you.

That's right. To you, he's not the Honored One, he's not Gojo Satoru. He's just your boyfriend, just your Satoru. Just your boyfriend who is obsessed with anything sweet.

You roll your eyes lightly, a small chuckle bubbling up in your throat, “You mean, the place you've been begging to go to all week?"

He walks to your side, sighing loudly as he approaches. His deft fingers subtly adjust his sunglasses, pulling them down in an attempt to garner your sympathy. The expression on his face is priceless—the strongest sorcerer in the world is pouting because you insinuated you might not want milk tea.

"Don't be so mean, sweets!” He whines. "You said you wanted to try it out, too.”

“Hm, did I now?” You say with a mischievous glint in your eyes. “I don’t recall.”

He steps closer, towering over your smaller form. When you dwell on that thought, you suppose you should be scared. You see him brutally destroy curses, leaving no trace of their existence behind. He could do that to you, if you wanted to.

Even knowing that, you aren’t scared.

He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close to his chest. You can feel his strength through the solid grip he has on you—his arms lovingly cage you in.

Even though he’s done this many times before, your breath still catches in your throat, and your heart races at the proximity.

“C'mon, l know you've been craving brown sugar boba all week... And they even have that tiramisu flavor you go crazy for…”

He nuzzles in close to your neck, warm breath fanning down your nape. When he's this close, you can't resist anything—and he knows it, too.

You sigh as if he's ruffled your feathers, but you can't help but let the chuckle you’ve been holding in escape past your upturned lips.

“Do they have cheese foam?" You hum.

You yelp as his fingers dig into your side—and then your entire body is wracked with heaving, boisterous laughter.

"What a silly question. Of course they do! Only the amateurs lack the essential toppings,” He shakes his head playfully. “Any more funny business out of you, and you'll get punished again."

You twist around in his grasp to face him. Your hand reaches up to ease his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, putting his vibrant blue eyes and pale lashes on display.

“You're so pretty it's unfair,” You pout. "Leave some for the rest of us."

"And yet everyone's always trying to steal you away from me," He counters.

"Says the head-turner," You say with a smile full of your adoration for him. “Haven't you noticed that the rest of the population—myself included—never has all eyes on them when entering a room?"

He shrugs, “How would I know? You think my eyes are on anyone else once I see you?"

The insinuation has heat and electricity coursing through your entire body. He wears a smirk as if he can feel the flames licking your skin. You lower your gaze, suddenly shy.

A warm hand cups your check, gently nudging your face close to his. Your eyes instinctively flit up to his, drinking him in.

His eyes are bright behind his shades. You laugh softly when his shades fully slide down to the edge of his nose as he lowers his head to yours.

“Makin’ fun of me, babycakes?” He pretends to pout, but his tone is playful and warm.

“Maybe,” You tease. “I mean, you are freakishly tall and have glow in the dark eyes. And you call me all sorts of weird names.”

“You–!” He gasps. “You are such a rascal, y’know that? A fiend, even!”

“Mmm,” You hum, humoring him. “Well, would such a fiend as myself do…this?”

You lean in, savoring the warmth of his hands on you. His skin, smooth from its lack of wear due to his Infinity, skates across your skin effortlessly. Your lips are about to touch his, only inches away from bliss, when you both are caught off guard.

There’s a loud bang. So loud, in fact, that your ears ring as soon as the sound waves hit your eardrums. You stagger back from Gojo, crouching down and immediately covering your ears with your hands. You look up at your boyfriend, expecting to exchange confused glances, and are not prepared in the slightest for the scene in front of you.

His eyes are blown wide, shades now missing. Beads of sweat begin to form on his forehead and all color has drained from his face. His expression quickly crumples, lips parting and yet no sound escapes him.

A shudder runs through you—something is very wrong.

Then his shaky hands begin to move, and he quickly clutches his side. Right under his ribs, a stream of blood begins to run down his body, escaping between his fingers. You watch in horror as it pours down at an alarming rate, and you begin to put the pieces together.

Satoru has been shot.

His name leaves your mouth in a panicked howl and then you can't speak anymore, as if all the air has escaped from your lungs. Your mind is ripped back to when Toji Fushiguro sliced Gojo to shreds in front of you. His blood splattering everywhere while you watched on in horror, immobilized and completely useless, not able to do anything but watch the terrors unfold. Not again, not again, it can’t happen again, is what replays through your mind.

You have no more time to linger on that chilling memory. More pops sound through the air, deafening you and spiking fear in the blood that rushes through your veins. It can't happen again. You can't see him like that again.

You immediately throw yourself at your boyfriend, desperately trying to shield him with your body, even though it’s nearly impossible with how tall he is. You shove him down, attempting to cut down his frame to meet yours so that you can cover him, and notice something odd. You can still feel his warmth—your skin brushes against his, when it shouldn’t. Not right now, it shouldn’t.

You move to the side with quick steps and try to pull him along with you, but are unable to. Your heart sinks. He’s completely dead weight. You’re strong in your own regard, but there’s no way you can pick him up and take off with him.

"Satoru, please! C'mon, we have to go, we need to. Please," You plead with him, gripping him so tightly that your hands ache. When he doesn't respond, you start to shake him, trying to get any reaction out of him, but to no avail.

He’s in shock. It’s obvious with his lack of reaction, with how he lets himself be man handled under your body. He prides himself in his ability to protect those around him—he wouldn’t just let you put yourself in the line of fire if he was in his right mind. You know fully well that Gojo could eliminate the shooter in mere moments if he assumed his normal calm and nonchalance—but, unfortunately, his mind is in a freeze state. The bare skin under your fingertips is evidence of this, which only exacerbates your rising panic.

“Your Infinity!” You shout, your voice raw from panic. “Satoru, your Infinity! You need to turn it on! Now!”

Still grasping Satoru tightly, you endure the next round that is emptied into the space next to you—a bullet whistles by your ear, too close for comfort. Gojo’s breathing is ragged, his eyes staring into nothing and appearing so far away at the same time.

You duck down to his eye level and grab his chin, forcing him to look into your eyes. “Satoru, please! Snap out of it! Please!”

For a few seconds, his gaze locks with yours. His eyes, usually such a vivid blue, are darkened by how large his pupils are. You plead with him, unable to keep your terrified tears at bay.

Then you’re slightly bumped back, now pressing against what feels like a wall, and your body becomes weak with relief. He finally activated his Infinity.

But you're not out of danger yet. Your brain scrambles as you try to figure out how to get out of this while your boyfriend is evidently in shock.

You dare a glance back, eyes scouring the landscape, and immediately curse. As you suspected, you are most definitely being sniped. The enemy has the advantage of higher ground and generous foliage for coverage, while you and Satoru are exposed out in the open clearing below. If you had more time and brain power, you could triangulate their location, but that's just not possible right now.

Even if you were able to surmise their location, you don't even think you can fight back right now, not with how exposed your position is and with how vulnerable Gojo is in this state. And if you can't fight, then you have to flee.

Projectile weapons are ineffective against a moving target—this simple knowledge is what sways your decision. Even though it didn’t work before, you grab Satoru, still trying to keep him low, and begin to run. You breathe a little easier when he moves along with you.

More shots whizz past you, but you keep going, pumping your legs as fast as you can while making sure to be the rear guard. It’s obvious that they’re targeting Gojo—if they hit you, it would merely be collateral damage. The bullseye is on Gojo’s back, not yours.

You don’t stop running until you hit the tree line, and even then you hurriedly usher Gojo behind a stocky trunk many meters back. Before you can catch your breath, you're ripping off your jacket with haste. Quickly realizing that the material is not ideal for the job you intend it for, you quickly tear your shirt from your body. It’s sweaty from all your activity, but it’ll have to do.

You brush away Gojo’s hands, firmly pressing the cloth to his wound. You practically collapse onto your boyfriend as you apply firm pressure, your forehead dipping down to rest on his shoulder. You're wracking your brain for what to do next when Gojo gently pushes you back, places his hands on yours, and shakes his head.

You can't help but think the worst. What does that mean? Is it like that time? Am I too late again?

“I'm sorry, I know it hurts, but y-you're bleeding so much that I have to. Fuck, I’m really sorry for making you run, I’m sure that made it worse, but we just had to get away from whoever was shooting, oh god, how badly did they get you, fuck, this is my fault–”

You don’t realize you’re rambling until he cuts you off. You don't realize you're crying until he brushes the tears away.

“Hey. Stop, sweets. I’m fine, it already stopped bleeding.”

“What? But that can’t be, you were literally shot–”

He raises his shirt, revealing a pink layer of new skin.

He offers you a weak smile, but something is off about it. “Reverse cursed technique, remember? Nobody’s gonna take me down that easily.”

You release a big breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. The weight on your shoulders finally eases as you look over his new layer of skin.

“Oh fuck, I’m so glad you’re okay,” You sniffle, leaning in quickly for a hug. “I–mmph!”

You stumble back a step, blinking in surprise. This has never happened before—you hit his invisible barrier.

His eyes widen. “Fuck, sorry, I didn’t mean to–“

“No, no, it’s okay!” You wave your hands, trying to dispel his apology. You feel flustered and stiff, awkwardness seeping into your mannerisms. “It’s good that it’s on now.”

It’s then that the disturbing thought hits you. Maybe he should always have his Infinity on. Maybe you’re endangering him.

Gojo holds out his arms for you, now inviting you in. You pause, your thoughts echoing through your head. You take a beat too long—you know he senses your momentary hesitation, and how slowly and gingerly you come into his arms doesn't feel right.

“You okay? Did you get hit?” He asks, squeezing you tightly in his arms. “Fuck, please tell me you didn’t.”

With your head pressed to his chest, you can hear how rapidly his heart beats. He’s scared. He’s scared for you, even though he was the one who got hurt.

His hands run over you, checking for any injuries. You pull yourself out of his embrace gently to still his hands.

You shake your head, “No, I’m fine. But you…you got hurt, Satoru. They shot you.”

And it’s absolutely your fault. If you hadn’t been touching him, this never would have happened. He let his guard down because of you.

“I’m alright now, sweets,” He reassures you, but his tone is again tinged with a strange emotion you can’t put your finger on. “Promise.”

“But–!” You exclaim, about to spill out all of your guilty feelings. The words don’t come, though, stopped by another fear. Will he also realize it’s your fault and get rid of you? Will he realize he doesn’t need you?

“Here,” He says, unballing your shirt and placing it in your hands. “This is proof that I’m fine. Your shirt’s..."

He inspects it funnily, scrunching up his eyebrows and staring at it intently, making a show of it to make you laugh. "...pretty clean and ready to be worn again. Well, unless you don’t want to…can’t say I wouldn’t mind you not putting it back on…there is a little speck of blood on it, after all...”

He smiles at you, a true grin that manages to lift up your weary heart. You burst out laughing, and swat his arm before you hurriedly take it from his hands.

“Satoru! We almost just died and you—” You still can’t contain your laughter, but it stops abruptly once you feel a large wet patch on your shirt. When you pull your hand back, your fingers are stained red with a surprising amount of blood.

“I swear it closed up before you…” He frowns, trailing off. His face turns serious for a moment, but then you touch his cheek with your clean hand and give him a quick peck.

You shrug, “It’s okay. No biggie.”

Face still close to yours, he chases your lips as you pull away from the peck. He kisses you deeply, catching you by surprise and forcing you to hold onto him for support.

"Satoru! I'm gonna get you all bloody with this hand..." You softly protest.

"Don't care," He murmurs quickly, leaning in again and kissing like you don't need to breathe. "It's mine anyway. Just like you."

"Mmph—Satoru—but you need to get looked at properly," You manage to say. "We have to go."

He reluctantly lets you slip out of his arms, sighing as he straightens to his full height.

He groans loudly, frowning at you, "Party pooper!"

"Yeah, yeah, get yourself ready," You fold your arms, acting like you didn't just immensely enjoy that.

He raises an eyebrow at you and smirks as his eyes scan your body.

"What?" You ask petulantly.

He sounds more excited than you’d like, “So…no more shirt?”

You sigh, exasperated, and quickly smooth the shirt back over your body. He laughs and wraps himself around your smaller form, squishing you back against his chest. You relax against him, digging your nose into him, taking in his comforting scent. You both are silent for a few moments, soaking up each other's presence.

“That was scary,” You whisper.

Gojo sighs, “It was pathetic, that’s what it was.”

You snap your head up to look at him. “Hey. What are you saying?”

He shakes his head, looking frustrated. “Doesn’t matter. Let’s just…let’s just head back.”

“Satoru…” You start with a warning tone.

“Don’t wanna talk about it right now,” He says flatly. “Besides, we should go back and see Shoko just in case. I want you to get looked over, too."

You want to question him further, but hold your tongue. You know better than to press him when he’s like this.

“Huh? Why’s that?” You simply ask instead, genuinely confused.

He frowns as he looks at your head, scrutinizing it as if something was wrong. Before you can question him, he forms a fist and–

Knock, knock.

“You think it’s in there?” He asks seriously. “Sounds pretty hollow.”

Your jaw drops in disbelief at the absolute disrespect. There’s no way he just knocked on your skull to check if your brain is still in your head.

“GOJO SATORU! Are you- are you implying I don’t have a BRAIN?!” You screech, taking hold of his sorcerer jacket to jostle him around. “Do you have a death wish?!”

He laughs, then uses the same fist to roughly rub your scalp. He even gave you a fucking noogie!!

“That’s it! Take me to Shoko.” You pout, crossing your arms and turning around so your back faces Gojo.

“Aww, sweets, you want a second opinion?” He coos, moving forward to wrap his arms around you from behind. “I’m sure she’ll be able to confirm it…”

“Ugh!”

"...with how willingly you throw yourself into danger."

You stop smiling. "What?"

He's not smiling either, and its absence looks strange on his face. His gaze is almost cold. "Don't do that again."

There are no words that come to your mind, but you wish you could protest and justify your actions and convince him that it was necessary. Instead, you stand there dumbly, transfixed by his cold aura.

Then he smiles sweetly again, as if that hadn't just happened. "Let's go, shall we?"

Shoko sighs loudly at your arrival. "What was it this time?"

"Actually, we're not sure," You admit, looking to Gojo to see if he has any possible answers. When he says nothing, you continue, "We didn't see what—or rather who–it was. 'Must have been a cursed user."

"Even Mr. Six Eyes didn't see them?" Shoko asks, raising an eyebrow. "That's hard to believe. And here I was always thinking he should leave some eyes for the rest of us."

She looks to Gojo teasingly, but he doesn't take the bait. Shoko looks to you with a questioning gaze that says something like—what's up with him?

"It's complicated..." You supply vaguely.

"Well, whoever it was must be bad news," She says. "How did they get Gojo if you couldn't see them?"

"They had guns," You explain. "It was a sniper...or a few snipers, I'm not sure if it was just one or if there was another one too. Their aim wasn't the best, but they got Satoru one time...they shot a few rounds at us, but I guess they got lucky with that shot."

You can't look at him. If you look at him, you'll see his skin pale and washed out from the blood dripping down his abdomen. You'll see his body lacerated and unrecognizable from Toji's ruthless assault. You are always useless, hopelessly useless.

You look at your feet instead and ignore the sour taste of bile in your mouth.

Gojo's cocky snicker brings you back to attention, "They were pretty terrible. They only got one hit, but they should have known better. As if that loser shit would work against me."

Shoko's eyes are on you again, and you know why. Gojo doesn't normally get injured. And by someone with nothing more than a gun? How could he even get hit with Infinity?

Even if you were speaking, you're not sure you would have the strength to tell her. It's my fault he didn't have his Infinity on, is the answer that resonates painfully in your chest. The guilt threatens to consume you whole, but you push it down.

"Everything is 'loser shit' to you with RCT," Shoko decides on. "But I have to say I'm just a little surprised you got hit."

"Yeah, yeah, but I'm all good now," Gojo says dismissively.

"Let me see at least," Shoko rolls her eyes. "Aren't you here to see me for my medical expertise or what?"

"What, we can't see our dear friend otherwise?" You tease with a pout. "You wound me, Shoko."

"That wouldn't be ethical of me,” Shoko plays along, then turns back to doctor mode once she starts getting her supplies ready. "Did you get hurt too?"

“No, just Satoru,” You say with a shake of your head. “You don’t have to check me over.”

She narrows her eyes at you. “I’ll come back to you.”

“Huh? But Shoko…” You trail off, seeing she has already begun inspecting Gojo.

“I’m all good,” Gojo rolls his eyes, but it doesn’t have quite the usual touch of playfulness it usually does. “C’mon, Shoko, don’t waste your time on this. We both know I can’t really get hurt.”

He winks at you, and you smile in return. That almost makes you feel better—he’s being more like himself.

“Uh-huh, but they certainly won’t let me rest until I do a proper check-up,” Shoko says. “You’ve got a persistent one, did ya know?”

He only chuckles at that, giving her some peace to look him over and prod him here or there.

“Well, you’re all good, as expected. It doesn’t seem like there’s any soreness, which is a good sign.”

“My RCT isn’t just for show!” Gojo says proudly. “Works just as good as yours, Shoko.”

She rolls her eyes, “Uh huh. Now, let’s get on to your ‘sweets’.”

You stick your tongue out at her, blushing, “Shoko, I have a name!”

“Not in these parts,” She teases easily, waggling her eyebrows at you. “Alright, just sit up straight for me now. Just gonna prod you a bit, okay?”

You nod, unworried as you let her hands inspect you. You relax and are about to crack a joke about getting a free massage from bestie Shoko, but you find yourself writhing in pain instead. You definitely didn’t expect yourself to wince—and yet you find yourself doing so, hissing out in pain as a stinging suddenly surfaces on your back.

Gojo sits up in alarm at your reaction and quickly jumps up from his cot, making his way over to you and Shoko. “What’s wrong?”

He’s practically hovering over you before Shoko shoos him away with a wave of her hand, motioning for him to let her do her job. He keeps away, but his gaze is trained on the spot her hand is touching.

She lifts your shirt fully, carefully inspecting the wound. It’s bleeding steadily, yet neither of you even noticed it before this moment.

“You got hit?” Gojo practically mewls. He’s never sounded this small and weak before. “But you were—I thought you were fine..."

Now it makes sense why your hand was tinged red when you pulled your hand back from the shirt earlier. It wasn't from Satoru's wound at all—it's your blood.

When you turn to Satoru, you look into a mirror. You know that's how you must have looked earlier when you looked at his bullet wound in horror.

“You probably didn’t feel it because of the adrenaline," You hear Shoko telling you. "It appears to be a graze, but it got you pretty good. There’s no bullet or shrapnel, which might be why you didn’t feel it in the moment.”

You feel embarrassed for some reason. “I seriously didn’t feel anything…it’s fine, then, right?”

Satoru is pale again. Emotions swirl in his agitated eyes—you can’t quite decipher them, since they cycle so fast, but he looks…haunted.

But he shouldn't, not when everything boils down to being your fault.

You immediately turn your attention to Satoru, becoming apprehensive about the look in his eyes. You smile at him softly, eyes crinkling along with your lips, trying to signal that you’re really okay, that there’s nothing to worry about.

But you don’t see the pool of blood steadily growing behind you, Satoru does.

“I’m okay, Satoru,” You smile, but it falters when Shoko presses gauze against your wound.

“Let me be the judge of that,” Shoko sighs. “Lay on your stomach and try not to move too much. I'm going to wrap you, okay? I need to grab some things, but I’ll be right back.”

"Okay..." You accept softly, still surprised by this turn of events.

You obey Shoko's orders and begin to lower yourself onto the hospital bed. You grit your teeth when the skin on your back stretches, irritating your newly discovered wound. You blink once and suddenly he's by your side, holding you steady and angling you so your back doesn't have movement while he gently lays you down.

"Thanks," You say. "I'm fine though, Satoru, really..."

“You don’t see yourself,” He speaks lowly, quietly. “Worry about yourself some.”

You’re left reeling at his words—more so by how he says them. His voice is so weak, uncharacteristically soft and completely candid.

“I’m fine,” You insist, shaking your head. “I didn’t even feel it. It can’t be so bad then, can it?”

You don’t miss the way Gojo’s jaw sets. He didn’t like that response. You see something you don't understand in his eyes, a flash of a strong emotion you didn’t anticipate. You avert your gaze, but it’s burned into the back of your eyes.

The click of Shoko’s heels alerts you of her return. Gojo watches his old friend carefully, taking in her furrowed brow and the way her eyes jump between your wound and her supplies, analyzing. She seems confused, as if she underestimated the severity of your wound. His hands curls into fists, watching your blood drip over the edge of the bed and dropping messily onto the ground below.

Shoko pulls her gloves on swiftly, grabbing a bottle of antiseptic and preparing it for application.

“Sit tight, my friend,” Shoko tells you with a deep exhale. “I gotta get started on this. First I’m going to sterilize it, then you’re going to need stitches. I’m sorry to say we won’t have the luxury of time to sedate you for that.”

You gulp. Your pain tolerance is okay, but you really hate the feeling of anticipating pain. Knowing something will hurt is infinitely more scary to you than getting injured in battle, when your adrenaline is high and it just happens without warning.

You reach your hand out hesitantly, feeling silly for needing comfort just for a few stitches, and are surprised by the immediate grasp on your hand. It’s tight but not uncomfortable; it’s warm and it grounds you.

You grit your teeth and try to limit your whimpers of pain as she treats your wound. You can’t stop yourself from squirming when the needles pulls at your skin again and again, even when she places a heavy hand on your back to hold you in place. All throughout, Gojo’s hand squeezes yours, carrying you through this uncomfortable ordeal.

When it’s finally over, you feel exhausted.

“You did great,” Shoko praises you. “Your wound should be all good for now.”

You let out a small chuckle of relief, almost giddy to be done with the dreaded stitches. You sit up and slide off the bed, wanting to get back on your feet to feel some normalcy, to convince yourself you’re fine.

You truly felt nothing before, but it must be catching up to you now. Your knees threaten to buckle under you as dizziness overtakes you—you wobble on your two feet.

Both Shoko and Gojo rush to you, each taking a side to support you.

“You lost a considerable amount of blood,” Shoko warns in her doctorly tone. “Slow down and take it easy from now on.”

You laugh sheepishly, rubbing the back of your head, “I’m good! Just stood up a bit too fast.”

Shoko releases your arm, but Gojo doesn’t let go. He holds you steady, even pulling you toward him, supporting the majority of your weight.

“I can stand, y’know…” You laugh softly, finding his overprotective actions a bit amusing. But all the humor drains from the situation when you meet his gaze.

You see it in his eyes again, a dark flicker that almost makes you nervous. Before you can muster the courage to question him about it, Shoko interrupts your silent musings.

“Listen closely. I know you like to be up and about, as you just demonstrated, but I want you to limit your movement as to not disturb your stitches. A little walking should be fine, but do not exert yourself. No exercising or training for the next few days. Come see me in three days so I can clear you—if it’s looking good—for activity.”

You resist a sigh, settling on a playful roll of your eyes. “Yes, mom.”

She smirks, “Good. Now get out of here, you two, before I get your couples cooties.”

“Har, har, har,” You pretend to laugh, before sticking your tongue out at her. “Very funny, Shoko.”

It strikes you that Gojo has been unusually quiet, not joining in on your mutual jokes. When you spare a glance, you observe that his facial expression is neutral, if a bit strained. No smile, no cocky smirk. That’s uncommon.

You look at Shoko, exchanging more unspoken words with a few blinks. That confirms it—he’s acting strange.

You want to ask him what’s wrong, but he know he won’t tell you here.

“Ready to go?” You ask instead.

“Ready as ever,” He tries a half smile. It’s not very convincing.

You nod and lean into him, angling your head to smile up at him. Your smile is innocent and sweet. His chest squeezes at the sight, full of a jumble of emotions. He doesn’t reveal any of them; he absently plays with a strand of your hair instead.

As you look up at him, closely examining his soulful eyes for any traces of the emotion from earlier, to see if it still lingered. But the intense emotion is gone, replaced by an even and controlled gaze, leaving you to only wonder at the clear flash of anger you saw earlier in his bright eyes.

When you come back home, Gojo is unusually quiet. He mumbles something about taking a shower when you get back, leaving your side as soon as he gets the chance. You really wouldn't mind, but he seems rather... avoidant, especially with his ensuing actions.

You plop yourself down on your couch, trying to get comfy while keeping your back straight, a nearly impossible feat. Feeling restless, you tap your foot while you watch condensation from a glass on the coffee table in front of you drip down the sides. With each drop that falls, your heart beats a little faster.

You prepared a cool glass of water and a bowl of Satoru’s favorite sweets for when he's done, anticipating a binge of a show you both recently discovered. But, instead of an evening full of your usual snuggles on the couch, him getting handsy while you ‘protest’ about missing the show, you are woken up to a different reality.

When you hear the click of the bathroom door, you straighten in your seat, excited to be close to him again. But before you can even call him over to the couch, Gojo heads straight to your bedroom. You wait a few minutes, assuming he's just changing, but you grow uneasy as the time ticks by.

Maybe he just wants space. Well, how long should you give him? Should you ask him if he wants space? But what if he's waiting for you? Does he just want to be in bed instead?

You wait and wait, tapping your foot anxiously on the floor and checking your phone every few minutes. When the supposed appropriate amount of time has passed, you hesitantly approach the bedroom.

You find yourself knocking on the door before you enter, even though you've never done that to your shared door before.

"Hey, Satoru?" You call out tentatively.

You stand in the doorway, scared to cross an invisible boundary. A sheepish smile is on your face, even though you try to get your lips to stretch normally.

He's on his phone, just scrolling. Oh, maybe he just got distracted by TikTok or something.

"Hm?" He barely responds, not even looking up.

“Is something bothering you?” You ask, worried. “Is it your side?”

“Why would it be my side?” Gojo asks flatly.

Your brow creases in confusion, but you try to keep a light tone. “Oh. Uh, what’s wrong, then?”

"Nothing, why would anything be wrong?" He gives you a tight-lipped smile. His tone is so strange—bordering on sarcastic—and you don’t know what to make of it. As he stands up and passes you, slipping out of the room hastily like you are what’s bothering him. The thought turns your stomach.

You pause for a beat, frozen in the doorway as you process what just happened. Then you turn around, eyes following his form as he enters the living room and unceremoniously sprawls across the couch. He crunches on some candy you brought in the bowl.

Okay. Maybe you should be more direct.

You walk over to him, cautious but trying not to appear nervous, “Satoru, can we talk?”

“We are talking,” He smiles oddly.

“You know what I mean…” You say with a note of annoyance coming through in your tone, then it turns softer. “Is something wrong? Did I do something?”

“Yes.”

You blink rapidly, surprised by his blunt answer. You take a seat next to him.

“Okay…could you tell me what I did?”

“…”

He’s not faking a smile anymore, which is a start. His lips are set in a firm, flat line, instead. His jaw is clenched and his neck muscles are emphasized due to how taut they are; you have rarely seen him tense like this. Your chest aches—what did you do?

“Please, Satoru, what’s wrong?” You ask again, each word filled with care and concern. And somehow, it seems to kill him.

“What’s wrong?” He echoes back loudly. “What’s wrong is that you stood in front of me while there was incoming fire! You can’t just do that.”

That’s not what you expected.

“What do you mean?” You frown.

“I just– fuck, why would you think to do that?” He stresses, pulling at his hair. “You took too much risk—you can’t use RCT!”

“Yeah, me and like ninety-nine percent of all sorcerers. Like it matters. You think I thought of that?” You huff.

“‘Like it matters?’ Are you hearing yourself right now?” He scoffs. “It matters a lot, and you know it does. It’s reckless.”

“When it comes to you, it doesn’t.” You say hotly, unwavering.

“It does matter. You got hurt when you shouldn’t have. When you didn’t need to!”

You’re surprised by his outburst. “I–I was only thinking about protecting you, okay? I wasn’t…I wasn’t thinking about that! Caring about getting hurt? That was the last thing on my mind.”

“Yeah, it’s obvious you weren’t thinking,” He sneers. “There’s no need to risk your life like that. Absolutely no need.”

Your jaw drops in shock, and you try not to feel hurt. “You can’t be serious right now, Gojo. You were in no state to protect yourself. I was…doing my best, I just wanted to keep you safe.”

“I still got shot,” He argues back immediately, painfully reminding you.

A small, pained gasp escapes you. You spin around as fast as you can—tears are freely falling without your permission.

You want to tell him that’s not fair, but you don’t trust your vocal cords right now. Not with how tight your throat is from trying to hold back sobs that would surely wrack your body if you let them.

The guilt that has been trailing you all day now collects at the pit of your stomach, practically eating you alive. You feel physically sick. He’s right. He did get shot. He was vulnerable, his Infinity lowered because of you. If…if the bullet had gone through his head, what could you have done then?

You stand up as steadily as you can. You don’t spare him a single glance; you can’t, not with your face crumpling as you try your hardest not to cry. You exit the living room swiftly, holding it all in, all of your emotional pain but also your physical pain. Your wound is throbbing and it even feels hard to stay standing right now.

You finally round the corner into the hallway. Now out of view, you let yourself stagger down the hallway, succumbing to your dizziness. It’s your fault, your fault, only your fault. You can’t handle this right now.

You walk aimlessly down the hall, just wanting to get away from him right now. You wind up in the bathroom and lock the door behind you. You stand in front of the mirror, looking for something redeeming within yourself, but all you can see are your pathetic tears and guilt swimming in your eyes.

You grip the edge of the counter, so tightly that it begins to hurt and your fingers tremble at the effort. You feel unsteady, like the brain Gojo teased you don’t have is lacking oxygen. Maybe you really lack one if you think you could possibly be the right match for the strongest.

You sink to the ground, finally releasing heaving sobs that have been trying to claw themselves out of you. They’re muffled by your hands, which you press firmly against your mouth in an effort to contain your noises, but some of the sound leaks between your fingers. You stuff some of your shirt into your mouth to bite down on, trying to hold it all in, trying to hold yourself together.

Your breath hitches at a throb of pain from deep within your back. It hurts so much, even with the pain reliever Shoko gave you to take. It hurts more than when she was threading the needle between your folds of skin; it’s deeper than that, sharp and intense and robbing you of a normal breathing pattern.

Despite your efforts to keep quiet, pained whimpers start to leave you. And worse—panic floods you, taking advantage of your poor state of mind. All you can focus on is the stabbing pain that refuses to dull.

You rip off the gauze with shaking hands, terrified to see its state. But confusion fills you when there's only dried smears on it—that must be from earlier. If your wound is still closed, then why does it hurt so much?

You shift on the floor, limbs giving out. You contort in pain, which only makes things worse, pulling the stitches to their limits. They stay intact, but the tension brings waves of pain to your back. A yelp is ripped from your throat at a particularly painful pulse.

The thunder of incoming footsteps gives you both fear and a sense of relief. On one hand, you didn’t want him to hear; on another hand, right now all you crave is your boyfriend’s comfort.

“Hey, what was that?” He asks from behind the door, sounding on edge.

“Satoru…” You mewl out in pain.

He calls out your name, voice now urgent. You cringe at the resistance of the lock against his attempt at opening the door.

“M’sorry, I locked it,” You sniffle. “Stupid of me.”

But he still appears in front of you, a locked door holding nothing to his defiance of space and time. He takes one glance at your crumpled form on the floor and curses. All of the tension from earlier melts away, replaced by genuine worry and need.

“What happened? You okay? Did you fall?” He asks as he hurriedly crouches next to you. His hands reach out to you, gently pulling you into his lap. You wince as your back bends, aggravating your wound.

You shake your head. “No, it’s just—agh, fuck—just my back, it suddenly hurts so bad.”

He grimaces. “Can…can I take a look?”

You give your consent and he quickly peels your shirt up. His fingers shake as he does so, even though he doesn’t mind the sight of injuries or blood. Or, at least, when it’s not yours.

He slowly pulls your shirt up just enough to reveal your wound, fearing the worst. You shiver when the fabric chafes against your graze, and he murmurs an apology upon seeing your discomfort. One of his hands rubs soothing circles on your waist.

When he inspects your injury, he’s met with red, puffy skin—the area around your stitches is clearly inflamed, but not unsually so. He breathes a low sigh of relief.

“It looks a bit swollen,” He determines before pulling your shirt back down, careful not to let it touch your wound this time. “But not too bad.”

“It feels bad,” You whine.

"I know," He says gently. “I’ll call Shoko in a second to make sure it's alright. Do you want to head to the bed first?"

“Yes, please,” You request softly.

He hooks an arm under your knees, the other cradling your back. “Alright, sweets. Up we go."

He handles your weight like it’s nothing, and easily unlocks the door you stupidly locked on the way out.

Unshed tears prick your eyes. You couldn’t carry him earlier, even after he had been shot and couldn’t move. You are incapable, unable to handle what he can on a daily basis. Can your relationship really be mutual if he always has to act as the strongest? You could barely protect him earlier.

"It hurts that badly?" He references your teary eyes without mockery, only softness.

If only your tears were from that pain.

"It could be worse, I guess," is what you settle on, neither a lie nor the full truth.

"Could I make it better, maybe?" He asks with a suspicious smile. Before you can answer, he swings you around a few times like he normally would when he carries you, which draws a genuine laugh out of you.

"You're gonna make me dizzy!" You complain, but your smile is so pure and wide, something Gojo doesn't miss.

"You're so beautiful, sweets," He says, affectionately rubbing his nose against yours. You feel warm from the closeness.

You look away shyly, "Yeah, right."

"You don't believe me?" He asks huskily, placing a kiss on your cheek.

"Ugh! Put me down and call Shoko already! It stills hurts," You pout.

"If you say so," He says, but his little smirk is still planted on his face. He lays you down carefully, gently releasing you onto the pile of blankets.

He then turns around and dials the doctor in question, "Yo, Shoko."

You close your eyes, trying to ward off the radiating pain with deep breaths. Gojo's phone call turns to background noise, the words indecipherable.

You tune back into the world at the end of his conversation.

"Okay, thank you so much Ieiri."

You faintly hear Shoko's disgust on the other end of the line, "What's going on with you?? Please never thank me like that again, yuck!"

You can't hold back the giggle that bubbles up at Shoko's reaction. Gojo blows a raspberry into the speaker and promptly hangs up on her.

"What's the verdict?" You ask.

"Well, sweets," Gojo sing-songs. "Did you forget to do something?"

You look up in thought, your brows furrowing, "I don't think so..."

"Really?" He says, then produces a familiar orange pill container. You're forced to stare at it as he shakes it in front of your face. "What about this, hm?"

"What? I already took one," You say, a little indignantly. "When we first got home. It was so horrible tasting and was a giant horse pill, too...Ugh, get that bottle away from me, might as well throw it out. I don't want to take anymore later."

He cracks the bottle open, pouring one into his palm. You narrow your eyes at him. Before you can ask what he intends to do with it, that same pill is shoved into your mouth followed by an amount of water so large that you almost begin to choke.

You cough on the water, and he pats your back accordingly, as if he expected this.

"What-?! Are you trying to waterboard me? I said I already took one, and-" You cough again. "God, where did you even get that water from anyway?"

"Mm. But you didn't notice the pill this time, right?" He looks satisfied with himself.

You deadpan. "No, but-"

"Besides, you were spacing out before we left the infirmary. Shoko specifically said to take two pills when you came home, or else the pain might get bad."

Your face feels hot, "Oh, did she now? Hah hah...I must have misheard her..."

He sighs, and it's only now you notice how tired he looks. There's a lull in your conversation, and you use this time to truly observe him. Dark circles are prominent under his eyes—how come you never noticed that?—and his eyes hold a look of defeat.

He breaks the silence, speaking softly, "You worry me, y'know? When I came in and you were convulsing on the floor...I don't want to see you like that again."

You stay silent, not willing to risk jeopardizing this rare moment of complete and utter vulnerability from Gojo.

"And when Shoko lifted your shirt and there was so much blood pouring out of your back..." He closes his eyes, screwing them shut. "I didn't know what would happen. That really scared me. Even when Shoko said you'd be fine, I didn't believe her until it stopped. And even then, you looked so weak...you still do, and it kills me."

He looks down at the ground, between his hands that are interlocked so tightly that it looks like it would hurt.

"It fucking kills me inside that you got hurt protecting me, and you didn't even notice. If that bullet had come any closer, you-"

He stops abruptly, voice breaking. You reach forward, taking his large hands in yours.

"But it didn't. Look at me, Satoru. I'm fine, I really am. I promise."

He shakes his head vehemently, and you're shocked to see liquid trickle down his face. You almost startle when he embraces you so tightly that you can barely breathe, as if you could disappear at any moment. His head rests on your shoulder, effectively hiding his expression from view.

He whispers by your ear, "What's the use in being the strongest when I freeze up like that? I put you in so much fucking danger."

"Satoru, look at me," You ask again, but his head stays tucked in the crevice between your shoulder and collarbone. "Please."

He slowly raises his head, revealing the expression he tried to conceal. His eyes are glassy and his cheeks are tinged pink; it makes your heart hurt.

"You're not the strongest to me," You say. "You're not even Gojo Satoru. To me, you're Satoru. Just Satoru. You're human and have emotions and memories and trauma, just like everyone else."

You steel yourself for your next words, the ones that have been haunting your thoughts since he got shot.

"I know that what happened reminded you of that...that time with Toji. I-it felt the same for me, and this time...this time I couldn't stand to watch idly. I would rather die than watch that happen to you again. Especially since, this time, it was definitely my fault."

"Your fault?" He laughs dryly.

"Yes!" You instantly cry out, causing his eyes to widen.

"Haven't you realized by now?" You practically sob. "None of this would have happened if I hadn't been touching you. Because your Infinity lowered for me—fuck, it makes me sick saying this out loud—they were able to really hurt you. I'm the one endangering you, and i-if this keeps up then..."

He says nothing. Now that you admitted it, there's no taking it back. And there's no way that he can or should accept this. There's no way he should accept you, you who are so useless and weak and stubborn. And yet...

"That's all?" He says seriously. You're struck with a flash of frustration and anger at his dismissal, but the hard look in his eyes tells you he is just as frustrated and will not budge on this point.

"We'll be more careful. It's a lesson learned for sure, but I'm not giving you up anytime soon. That's what you wanted me to say, isn't it? That I was going to let you go."

You look down shamefully, "W-well..."

He barks out a sharp laugh, "That's not happening. Do you know why?"

You avoid his gaze, and your voice comes out small. "You pity me?"

"I love you." His voice is firm and so sure; it leaves no room for doubt.

Your eyes snap back to his. There’s no bandages or glasses in the way to obscure the emotion shimmering in them—an endless sea of affection and intensity and something else that you couldn’t capture in words even if you tried. Love.

He loves you.

“I love you, so you can’t be reckless. You just can’t, okay? I’ve been going crazy knowing you got hurt, but I couldn’t handle it if…” He takes a sharp breath. “It’s selfish of me, but I don’t fucking care. Nothing can happen to you. I’ll take all of your hits and all of your missions if it means you’ll be safe. You’re the one person I can’t handle losing.”

“Then you’ll understand I feel the same way,” You say with a determined look on your face. “It’s not like I planned to do what I did. It was all instinct. I didn’t care what would happen to me.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” He admits, voice raw and so unlike his usual self-assured tone. “You don’t value yourself enough. You matter so much, sweets, more than I could ever say in words. I’d do anything for you, to keep you safe.”

You counter, “And I would die for you, Satoru, because I love you. And I wouldn’t ever regret it.”

Your determined admission renders him silent.

Then he chuckles, “You’re stubborn, aren’t you, sweets? Of course you sound all cute and mad the first time you tell me you love me.”

Your eye twitches, but you exhale into a smile. “Maybe. But so are you!”

“How about this?” He proposes. “How about we both stay alive, live happily ever after, and drink boba and eat kikufuku for the rest of our days?”

“I think I know where this is going,” You say, suspicion clear in your voice. But you can’t stop the way your heart jumps at his words, the insinuation of spending the rest of your days with Satoru making you weak inside.

“Well, sweets, I have an idea,” He says softly, but his words are filled with excitement.

“Hmm?” You muse, playing along. “What is it?”

“I think we need a sweet treat to make us feel better. Don’t you think so? Maybe we could…check out that boba place I talked about earlier?”

“The one ‘I’ said I wanted to go to?” You ask, using air quotes and shaking your head in amusement.

“That’s the one!” He grins, throwing himself around your form. He squeezes you tightly, nuzzling into your neck. “I love you so much that I’ll treat you, seeing as you want to go so badly. Not that I really wanted to go or anything…”

“You’re such a bad liar!” You laugh, pinching his cheek. “But, Satoru…I meant what I said.”

You look at him seriously, not willing to let this slide. You don’t expect him to match your intense energy, but he does.

“So did I. You don’t have to worry about that anymore, because I’ll never let that happen again. I’ll always be here for you, sweets. I’ll always protect you. You can try, but I’ll never make that mistake again. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you because of me, so I won’t let it. I love you too much to let it happen.”

Your heart feels like it could burst. You sniffle, not able to hold the tears back.

“Aw, is my baby crying?” He teases, gently thumbing the tears away from your cheeks. “You okay?”

“Mhm, just happy,” You nod and let out a watery laugh. “Hey, Satoru.”

“Yeah?” He hums.

“Do you love me enough to give me the last kikufuku later?”

You expect him to joke along with you, but he’s perfectly serious in his words back. Only you seem to have that effect on him.

“Even that,” He chuckles along with you, unbridled warmth and affection swimming in his baby blues as he gazes at you, eyes never leaving your form. “Even that, sweets.”

gojo masterlist <3

A/N: I don’t feel like this is the highest quality writing, but I felt really compelled to write this for some reason, so…oh well! <3 I hope it still turned out okay.

Also Satoru definitely should have apologized but I feel like he’s stubborn and hates apologizing so I left that out <3

I think this is the first time I've managed to not use (Y/N) HAHA, sometimes I see comments on other posts about how much it disturbs their immersive experience, so I'm going to try to limit my usage of it from now on...personally, I've seen and used it for so long that it's just part of my x reader vocabulary, but I understand why people don't like it lol.

Anyway, thank you for reading and I hope you had a great day today !! <333

[toxicanonymity]

How much Joel react if Sweet Pea snapped at him, even just a little bit?

Like she has her period now, or maybe just its super hot or some shit or no sleep or something.

Would Joel feel bad that his sweet, well-trained girl was lashing out? or would he snap right back?

Couldn't sleep. raider master

850 words, raider!Joel x f!reader

WARNINGS: angst, light manhandling, dark fluff, spanking, choking adjacent moment, grinding, reference to FEDRA assault.

A/N: analysis here. calling it a hypothetical bc it doesn't fit neatly btwn hunger and the next part.

He grabs you by the arm and you won't look at him, so he grips your jaw and turns your head. His brow furrows as he searches your face. You still don't want to meet his eyes. ”What the hell’s wrong with you today?” he demands. You don't answer. “Hmm?” He prods.

“Nothing,” you mutter, but your eyes are welling up. He stares at your quivering lips, then your eyes as he awaits your answer. You finally look at him. “Sorry. I couldn't sleep. I'm tired.”

He lets go of your jaw and you start to pull away but his grip on your arm tightens and he asks, “That all?”

“Yeah,” you sniffle.

His jaw clenches then moves back and forth. His eyes are pensive, concerned. “‘member what I said after ya ran?”

You nod. “that you only want me if I'm good?” A tear runs down your cheek.

His face softens and so does his voice. “that I only want ya if you're–” he sighs and cups your cheek. “No, sweet pea. That ya gotta talk to me when somethin's botherin’ ya.”

You look down and away, then nod. He lets go of your arm and sits down on the bed.

“You're a good girl, sweet pea. c’mere.” He pulls you onto his lap. He strokes the nape of your neck with his thumb. “That day ya ran. . .” He brushes a tear off your cheek. “That was real bad.” It was bad. FEDRA had you on your knees, made you play Russian roulette, stripped you. "I didn't. . ." He searches for words and doesn't find them. He looks at you with his brows knitted. “we’re past that, ain't we?”

You nod earnestly. “It was stupid. I wouldn't–it was a long time ago. I'd never-”

“'S’what I thought,” he nods. “You're my good girl, sweet pea.” He kisses you on the temple.

“You're not gonna spank me?” You look at him with wide eyes.

His nose twitches. “That what ya want?” He pulls you further into his lap and when you feel his warm, hardening package, you get a rush of arousal. He slides you off his lap and uses his body to push you down on the bed face up. He pins you to it with his hips, arousal digging into your front. He wraps his hand around your throat, not too hard. He sees something in your eyes, and the serious look he gives you says youre not off the hook. “What ain't ya sayin'?”

You stammer, unsure what he means. You hazard a guess, “please?” Your hips lift into him.

He smirks, then it fades as he closes his eyes for a second. “No. why couldn't ya sleep?”

“I–” you sigh. “I was worried about the dog.”

He breathes out a laugh, then with his hands under your arms, he pulls you up further onto the bed so your legs aren't dangling. He sits back on his heels, straddling you with his knees. You eye the bulge in his pants. He asks, “That's it?”

“It's too cold at night,” you whine. “And what if he runs away. I can't believe all that time he was. . .” you start sniffling again.

Joel pauses, seeing the sincerity in your eyes. “Alright,” he nods. “we’ll make him some place warmer. god damn.”

“Really?”

He shrugs, then leans forward and plants his forearm on the bed. He hovers over you, then puts some weight on you again, his cock harder now, making you gush as he presses it against just the right spot. “Yeah, really."

“Thank you,” you whisper. “He's still skinny.”

“Hell, make'm a goddamn vest if ya want,” Joel murmurs, searching your face affectionately.

You laugh, which makes his eyes come to life with warmth. He asks, “okay?” He wipes a tear off your cheek. “see, all ya gotta do is talk to me, sweet pea.”

You nod, then start to explain. “didnt wanna wake you up. 'cause sometimes you're. . ." Your voice trails off, "kinda. . .mean.” wondering if you've gone too far, you second guess whether you even feel that way.

Joel cocks an eyebrow. “I'm kinda mean? Hmm” his lower lip juts out in contemplation.

“No. Well. I mean. . .”

He pushes himself up, then forcibly turns you over face down. His hips press his hard bulge into your ass, and he brings his mouth to your ear. “f’i didn't know any better,” he murmurs, then lifts his hips again for clearance. “I'd think ya were into it.” He pulls up your dress and smacks your ass. You grunt and your mouth falls open with the sting of his hand, making you twitch with need.

“Maybe,” you mumble into the pillow.

You sigh and push your ass up, seeking contact. You look back and he shakes his head in playful disapproval as he unbuttons his pants.

----

ty for reading.

So the answer is both - I think he'd snap back, but underneath that he'd be concerned that it's out of character for her. His concern or hurt often presents as anger or frustration at first and he's getting more emotionally intelligent to where he might realize it sometimes.

[anotherwriternamedclara]

new year, same love

what better way to start the new year with a new year themed fic! and it's about our dear pink haired sweetheart yuji itadori <3 happy 2025 to you all! 💗 wc: 0.5k | non sorcerer au i think?? also established relationship btwn yn & yuji

the year had passed in the blink of an eye. you swore that january first had only felt like yesterday, and your boyfriend – he was then just a friend, but was he ever really just a friend? – yuji itadori had confessed to you under the fireworks at midnight.

and so it was nearing midnight of january first once more. you couldn’t help but feel a rush of déjà vu as you stepped into the balcony, ready to watch the fireworks. yuji was leaning against the railing, the sleeves to his hoodie rolled up to his elbow. just like last year.

he smiled at you, that bright, bright smile that could light up the whole wide world. “you ready for the fireworks?” he asked, slipping an arm around your waist as you joined him by the railing.

“you know me,” you said confidently. “i was born ready.”

“i also know that last year, you ran back inside complaining about how your ears were going to explode,” yuji added with a small smirk that made you seriously question whether you wanted to punch him or kiss him.

“well, just be glad i stayed outside long enough to listen to your confession.”

yuji’s cheeks turned as pink as his hair. “don’t remind me of that! i was drunk on Coke, okay? it wasn’t my best moment.”

you smiled up at him and kissed his cheek. “be that as it may, your ‘drunk-on-Coke’ confession is what brought us here today.”

yuji smiled back at you, his grip ever so slightly tightening on your waist. “today, entering the new year with the same love that got us through the last year.” he looked at you with wide, shining eyes. “did you hear that? i was being poetic!”

“and i love that about you, your ability to be poetic in the most unexpected of times. but look, let’s watch the fireworks.”

the fireworks were a dazzling display of colors and lights welcoming the new year. a bright pink one that dissolved into a spiral of stars caught your eye the most. the beauty of it reminded you of yuji and how being with him was like a firework sometimes – loud, bright, and fun. but unlike a firework, which only lasted a couple of seconds or so, you knew that deep down in your soul, yuji was forever.

“happy new year, yn,” yuji said. you could see the reflections of fireworks in his eyes, which made them all the more beautiful.

“happy new year, yuji. to many more new years with you.”

he smiled once again, that bright smile that completely outshined the fireworks still lighting up his face. “to many more new years with you,” he repeated, like it was a promise he would hold dear to his heart and never break. he leaned in closer, and pressed a slow, gentle kiss to your lips. “i love you.”

and so began the new year, with the same love as last year. for although things could and would change, one thing would remain constant – your love for yuji, and his love for you, which was just as dazzling as the fireworks still brightening up the sky.

you literally can't trust yuji with soda much less alcohol... bro would definitely get drunk off coke (basing this off my friend who does but anyways)

yn is a dramatic baby who's a lil sensitive to noise like me whoa

after the kiss she was definitely complaining about how her ears were going to explode just for the fun of it (but she actually got used to the fireworks, they remind her of yuji so she's fine with them now) a/n: happy new year once again! i do hope you enjoyed this fic js as much as i enjoyed writing it - last night in the car when i was coming home from a new year dinner with my family LMFAOO - but fr! may 2025 be a better year for all of us! wishing you all the best <3

[bryngmemoney]

✁FASHION FLIRT✃

Megumi Fushiguro x Reader

⭑story masterlist link

tw:none

Writing in between messages!!

🪡Chapter Thirty-three: Rehearsal

“These are actually really good,” Megumi said, digging his fork through another piece of the pancake. “Not too sweet?” you asked him.

“Not too sweet,” he confirmed.

“Are you excited for the show?” Megumi put a hand over his mouth, making sure not to completely swallow the food he had in his mouth before answering. “More nervous, but everything’s been going good at the past rehearsals, so hopefully this will go over well.”

“You’ll do great, you won’t mess up promise,” you smiled at him, returning your attention to your food.

“Hope so.”

“Looks good to you?” you asked Megumi as you helped adjust his hair a little more. “Yeah, looks better honestly.” You smiled at him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“Y/n can you help me out, the hair in the back doesn’t wanna stay,” Ino spoke up a few feet besides you two. “Hm? oh yeah sure.”

You stood up straight, moving over to help style his hair back. “Thanks, sorry didn’t wanna bother but I couldn’t get it.”

“Yeah don’t worry, I’m not the best either at this but we have help around too just in case.”

Just as you were finished adjusting Ino’s hair, Megumi spoke up “Y/n I just noticed this parts uneven.” You looked over, stepping back towards Megumi. “Which part?” you asked placing your hand on his shoulder.

He stared at the mirror for a second, before meeting your eyes in it. “Oh never mind, I think I was just looking at it wrong.”

“Y/n!”

You turned around to the calling of your name, seeing Inumaki spin Yuki around towards you. “Look Y/n your friend did a great job! I love it!” Yuki announced. “Wow, you do look great Yuki!”

“And they said it wasn’t the same thing,” Inumaki nodded his head towards another station where Maki and Nobara where currently working.

You saw Maki and a volunteer assistant happily working on Kirara, with Choso looking up in your guys direction, eyes on Yuki, and Yuta happily chatting away with them. Next to them you could see Nobara argueing with Sukuna trying to get something on his face but his hand kept swatting it away. A nervous looking Kamo slowly inching away from them.

“Alright, we can chill for a few, we’ve got 10 minutes before needing to be in the backstage.”

“Good luck,” you told Megumi. “It’s still just practice, save it for the actual show.” You both leaned against a wall in the backstage area, seeing everyone file in to get lined up in order.

“You know the project?” Megumi brought up.

“Photography?”

“Yeah,” Megumi smiled at you, “I got an A, said it was nice to see me try something different.”

“Different? In what way?” you questioned

“He said it was nice seeing a more personal touch from me.” You looked at him, giving him quick peck on the cheek. “Good, you deserved it, it was beautiful, well at least to me.”

“Get lined up you can have your moment later,” Maki said approaching you two, “We gotta start heading out,” she told you. You raised your hand slightly, “See you in a few then.” Megumi returned the gesture, “See you.”

Author’s Note: more megumi fluff :3

ok one more chapter and a little epilogue left after this one

also guys i’m prob gonna post a poll for the next smau to do cause i can’t decide btwn two 😭😭 so that’ll be up tomorrow too

hope you guys enjoyed!!

Taglist below, feel free to comment or dm me to be added for the last chapter!!

TAGLIST

@iridescentrays @gumimegz @maya-maya-56 @mamafly @lunavixia @swissy23 @coltsgf @m00nglad3-mp3 @etsukis @xosren @qtnfer @oengleli @harek89 @y-sabell-a @morgyyyyyyy @getolvr @liliumaraneae @k3lbade @aiieera @dancedancey @get0sfav @chuyasthighs0 @hyssoplampflickers @kpopanimen @sad-darksoul @vivi-loves-penguins @kasumitenbaz @talkingsperm @nymphsdomain @inlovewithlondonn @rzcnlb @enchantingkitty @fuyuzemi @lysaray @ni-ki-ismyluv @reneny @frumira @mixzimi @miralunaela @dreamxiing @p3achiee @anianurst @fishii28 @arguendo @samutoru @hallothankmas @invisible-mori @aiserex @all-in-the-fandoms @milza12 @nyxlai @daintyminho @tokyodarlng @molovs @hopeladybug @dazaisms

[whatsyourwish]

innosen   asked :  ↳  international kiss day. 💕     /    not accepting. tender touches! — for child!amane and chihiro :”)       ——   4. snuggling up next to mine.

               𝘐𝘛 𝘞𝘈𝘚 𝘕𝘐𝘎𝘏𝘛 𝘞𝘏𝘌𝘕 𝘈𝘔𝘈𝘕𝘌        rushes out from the porch step of chihiro's house and carries around a stack of pillows for him to put in the tent they made together. he feels an adrenaline rush while he calls out to chihiro, looking over his shoulder to see her catching up to him.      he smiles at her,      ❝ let's make a pillow fort with these. that way, we'll be  cozy  before the   meteor shower   starts ! ❞   he carefully placed the pillows inside the tent so they wouldn't get dirty, and his eyes   brighten up   when chihiro excitedly agrees to help him.             he turns on the flashlight to emit light inside their tent, and he carelessly kicks his shoes off towards the grass. they talk about      school,      friendships,       and sometimes amane would talk about      tsukasa      in the middle of their conversations. he starts shaping their pillow fort into a castle, but if he were, to be honest, it looked more like an igloo. they  almost  finished with the last touches, and amane laid down on his belly against the soft blanket. he grabs a pillow to cuddle with and waits patiently for chihiro to take her spot beside him.

            the sky was still a   stark blue color   with not a lot of stars. the summer heat still feels  sticky  to his skin as he listens to the cicadas sing in the distance. he'll point chihiro towards the   fireflies   when they  glow up  in the middle of the night, making sure to turn off his flashlight to see them better in the dark. his hair is tangled up in such odd angles as he squeezes his pillow closer to him. his eyes grew wide when he felt chihiro   excitedly   tug the sleeve of his t - shirt to get his attention, and he looks up to see the first couple of   shooting stars   falling from the sky.      he grew excited      — the meteor shower had just started !  he kicks his legs with a smile on his face,      ❝ WOW ! ❞      completely unaware of how close he was with chihiro.      their shoulders brushed against each other while his eyes stayed glued to the sky,      and he turns his face to look at her as if to share a secret, placing a hand over his mouth to whisper something to her ear,   ❝ did you know if you make a wish,      it will come true ?      you should try it. ❞             he nods his head in encouragement when chihiro looks at him in surprise,   ❝ pick a star you want to wish for, and make a wish before it hits the ground. i heard it would come true. ❞   and he eventually watches her close her eyes to make a wish. amane feels nervous while he sits up to his knees   — his chest tingles as if there was a fluttering sensation of   butterfly wings   flying around to the pit of his stomach. his cheeks  buzzed  red while he squeezes his hands together as a sign of comfort. amane  carefully  moved towards her and pressed a   soft kiss   towards the roundness of her cheek. he squeezed his eyes shut at the very last minute, and his ears turned red from making such a bold move. he pulls away almost immediately, and before he could catch her opening her eyes, he draws his legs towards him to bury his face on his knees.             he feels embarrassed and happy at the same time. his heart is drumming in his ears as he catches himself smiling.        he did it !        he actually did it !        he   kissed   chihiro   on the cheek   as he promised he would !        it's the first time he ever kissed a girl before, especially with the one he built a crush on; his heart  won't  stop beating in his chest, and his stomach feels like it's twisted in knots. amane pokes his head out to see her reaction, and he was shocked to find chihiro was just as red as he is. the stars keep falling from the sky as he kept his eyes on her,      and ever so shyly,      he asked,   ❝ d - did you make a wish ? ❞

 ↳        @innosen​   /   sent.  💌

[kbetacygni]

my fic. is so close yet so far from being complete 

[telli1206]

(Per our discussion 😘) It's summer, but Carlos tends to layer up. He falls asleep after a long day out while Jay's in the shower or something, so Jay decides to tuck him in like that and go to bed, but then Carlos starts getting wiggly b/c he's way overheated btwn. his clothes, the blankets, and Jay being a human furnace, so Jay tries to wake him up to get him to strip down so they can both be in peace, but Carlos doesn't wake up and Jay thinks he's faking, so he starts to help things along. 😉

Finally getting the inspo to write this one @hersilentlanguage​, so I hope it was worth the wait 😁

WARNING: Mild smut with sexual implications

Jay grunts and jolts suddenly from the feel of a sharp pain under his arm. He blinks furiously to coax the sleep out of his eyes, the fog in his brain too deep to even register what’s happening.

Not that he really needs to, he kind of already knows what’s going on. It’s always the same person who’s to blame for his shittiest nights of sleep.

Jay should be angry. Fuck, he has every right to be. Is there anything worse than being ripped from a deep sleep by a physical attack? He can’t think of anything. Still, he just sighs and rubs at his side. If he didn’t love the boy so damn much, there’d be nothing stopping him from grabbing him and just chucking him off the bed. And yet...

Auradon may have made him soft, just a little bit. But he’s pretty sure Carlos Oscar De Vil was already well on his way to turning Jay into a teddy bear anyway.

He reaches for the culprit of his pain, managing to curl his fingers around a sock-covered foot before another jab has him wincing and scooting back, positioning himself away from another attack.

“Fuck, ‘Los,” he moans, still gripping tightly to his boyfriend’s foot. “You can be a little shit, you know that?”

Carlos starts to mumble unintelligibly, his nose scrunching adorably as the utter nonsensicals spill from his lips. He’s moving as he tries to talk, his body shifting and wriggling it’s way up the bed, jerking out of Jay’s grasp. He kicks up Jay’s side, bit by bit, scurrying his lithe body upwards until it lands flat and flush against their headboard.

Jay sighs, watching as Carlos finally settles just above his head. His new position on the hard wood of their headboard looks terribly uncomfortable, and Carlos must subconsciously agree as he clearly continues to squirm, batting Jay repeatedly on top of his head with the billow of his sleeve in the process.

“Carlos!” Jay tries again, his voice hushed but firm. He grabs at the sleeve in his face and tugs, but Carlos simply rolls the other way, pressing his body onto the wood with a discontented hum.

Jay huffs as he props himself up on his forearms and turns fully to face Carlos. His plans of going to sleep at the moment have gone to shit, so he may as well try to get Carlos situated again. His best shot at a proper night’s sleep anyway is when he’s wrapped around his favorite warm body, his face pressed into Carlos’ soft expanse of white curls.

So he’s doing this for both of them, really.

Jay carefully snakes an arm under Carlos, moving slowly to keep from jostling him too much and potentially waking him. Once he can reach, he wraps both arms around Carlos and pulls him into his chest, holding him tightly and remaining as motionless as possible, hopeful that the few movements aren’t enough to cause him to stir.

To Jay’s surprise, Carlos hardly startles. Actually, he hardly moves at all. Definitely not what he expected.

He decides to loosen his grip to check on Carlos, and Carlos surprises Jay again by spinning slowly to face him. Though his eyes are pinched closed, Jay can still hear his soft mumblings, coming and going lightly with each breath.

“‘Los?” Jay leans in closer, pressing their foreheads together as he tries to focus on his boyfriend’s words.

Carlos moans at the contact and pushes in even closer so they’re practically cheek to cheek. He’s slick with sweat, and Jay can feel the dampness and heat radiating off of him. Jay reaches over to cup Carlos’ cheek, running his fingers gingerly over the moist skin.

“Fuck, I’m sorry pup,” he sighs, pulling back. “I shouldn’t have let you sleep in all this shit. It’s way too hot.” He thumbs at the zipper of Carlos’ hoodie with one hand while his other moves to Carlos’ head, gently pushing his red beanie back until it slides off and drops behind them and onto the floor.

Despite today being sunny and warm, Carlos had opted to layer up his clothing as usual, throwing Jay’s hoodie and beanie on over his shorts and t-shirt. It’s a habit that Carlos just can’t seem to shake. But, after years of Carlos feeling that he needs to hide...both his imperfections and his existence as a whole, no one had really expected for him to change that overnight.

Besides, Jay is more than happy to see Carlos wearing his clothes. He doesn’t want to look possessive, but, he really is. Especially when it comes to Carlos. He’s been dying to claim the cute freckled boy since they met, and it finally feels safe, normal even, to do that in Auradon. So he’ll gladly take every chance he can get to show that Carlos is...well...his.

It’s not like anyone is complaining about it anyway. Carlos is fucking adorable when he’s in clothes that are too big for him. That’s just common knowledge.

Still, Carlos overdid it with the layers today. And Jay scolds himself for being a lazy boyfriend and just dropping Carlos in bed to sleep instead of helping him change first into something less...suffocating.

He’s definitely paying for that choice now.

Carlos gasps when the beanie falls away and exposes his head to the cool air of their room. He tips his head back to shake out his matted down curls, relaxing back into Jay with a sigh of relief and resting his head on Jay’s shoulder.

“Does that feel good, pup? Do you want me to take off a little more? Cool you off?”

Jay reaches for Carlos’ zipper again, dragging it down slowly just an inch or so and then stops, waiting for Carlos’ reaction.

“Just say ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ Whatever you want I’ll do it. I just wanna help you sleep.”

Carlos is quiet, his head unmoving from Jay’s shoulder. Jay breathes soft and shallow, his hand still frozen at Carlos’ zipper as he listens for any type of response from him. But the silence hangs in the air for over a minute, and Jay is starting to wonder exactly how deeply his boyfriend may be sleeping.

Finally, Carlos starts to shift, moving his hips slightly to bring his body even closer to Jay’s. He drapes a leg across Jay’s waist as he tilts his head up to bring his lips to Jay’s ear. He doesn’t speak, instead choosing to kiss his way down the shell of Jay’s ear, stopping only to tug at Jay’s lobe with his teeth.

“Pupppp,” he moans, biting down hard on his lip to muffle the sound. His hands fly to Carlos’ hips, squeezing tightly as Carlos’ kissing continues its way down his jaw to his neck.

“I didn’t think undressing you would get you in the mood that easy, but I’m not gonna complain,” Jay chuckles. But his laughter fades away with his breath when Carlos bites down on the junction of his neck and starts to suck at his most sensitive spot.

Jay chokes, his mind numbing with pleasure as he starts to fumble for Carlos’ hoodie again, this time grabbing the zipper roughly and ripping it down. Carlos is still latched to his neck as he pushes the sleeves down, quickly freeing Carlos of his hoodie and dropping it to the floor to join his beanie.

When Carlos’ mouth finally detaches from Jay, he takes the opportunity to dip down and kiss over Carlos’ collarbone, letting his hands glide down Carlo’s t-shirt as he does so. When he reaches the bottom he hooks his fingers under the hem, pulling away for only a second to tug it over Carlos’ head and toss it aside.

Carlos hums his approval, his eyes still closed but his mouth spread wide in his most pleased smile. He looks utterly content when Jay starts to kiss fervently over the newly exposed freckled skin of Carlos’ chest, flushed and warm under his lips.

Jay smiles against Carlos’ shuddered breaths, his body responding almost desperately for more of Jay’s touch. And Jay is eager to please. He kisses his way down Carlos’ stomach, reaching for the button of his shorts as his mouth descends closer. Within seconds he has them unbuttoned and unzipped, and they’re off and on the ground before Carlos can react.

Not that he would. He’s already distracted himself with the skin of Jay’s neck, scraping his teeth along it and mouthing lightly at Jay’s pulse.

Jay is encouraged further by Carlos’ moans, hot and tingly against his skin. He snakes both of his hands down the back of Carlos’ boxers, grazing along skin that’s too soft, and feels too delicious against his own. He stops to  playfully squeeze at firm cheeks, as perfect and perky as he’s ever had the pleasure of touching. He peppers kisses at Carlos’ shoulder, massaging tenderly with his hands before lifting his arms to slide the material down--

“Uh. Um. J-Jay?”

Jay stills in his movements. “Yeah, Pup?”

He shifts backwards, his eyes searching for Carlos’ in the dim twilight. But when their gazes meet, Jay can feel guilt pooling in his gut.

Carlos’ eyes are wide...confused. There’s no recognition in his features at all, no indication left of the passion he and Jay were engaging in just moments ago. Jay releases his grip when he feels Carlos start to squirm, sliding his hands out of Carlos’ boxers and urging some space between their bodies.

“Are we...is th-this...”

Jay winces at the uncertainty in Carlos’ tone. His brow furrows, unable to hide his worry.

“Shit ‘Los, I’m sorry. I thought you were...I thought we were...were you not, into it? Evil, if I did something you didn’t want, I swear I didn’t mean to-”

Carlos puts a finger to Jay’s lips to end his ramblings. Jay complies, laying silent as he stares into Carlos’ deep brown eyes. They’re more alert now, but laced with softness, and they stare back at Jay with an intensity that’s making his heart constrict and his breath hitch. When the finger is dragged away from Jay’s lips, Carlos is quick to replace it with a tentative kiss, light and airy with barely a brush of contact.

“Jay.”

Jay opens his eyes, unsure as to when he even closed them. Carlos is smiling at him now, bright and toothy and so, so beautiful. Jay silently hopes his damn eyelids didn’t deny him of this for too long. Every single one of Carlos’ smiles is his favorite thing in the world.

“Jay,” Carlos repeats, brushing his fingers across Jay’s cheek. “Are you good now? I swear, you’re too damn sweet for your own good sometimes.”

Jay blinks and blinks, his face blank as tries to understand what he thinks he heard.

“Too...sweet?”

Carlos shakes his head and laughs. With a swing of his hips, he flips Jay onto his back and rolls on top of him. When Carlos sits up, he’s straddling Jay’s waist and looking into surprised eyes. He smirks and flicks a finger to Jay’s chin, snapping shut his slightly agape expression.

“I thought I was dreaming, Jay. That’s all. I know you’d never mean to do anything I didn’t want to. I’d never think that. You’re so good to me.”

Jay exhales, grinning up at Carlos, who leans in for another kiss.

“Ok, thanks pup. I-”

He’s cut off by Carlos squeezing his face and pressing a kiss down firmly onto his pursed lips.

“Besides,” he mumbles against Jay’s mouth, “Who the hell would complain about waking up to their dreams coming true?”

Carlos slips his hands underneath Jay’s shirt, splaying them out as he sits back upright with a cocky grin.

“Now, can you fill me in on what we were doing? Because I’d like to continue.”

[angeltrapz]

SAW ask time 💚 wld love to hear abt chainshipping + Adam bein autistic— maybe like what Lar notices abt Adam’s stims, things he does for him/ways he helps when Adam needs it. Also for Eric/Adam, maybe any thoughts on Eric finally like.. realizing he’s got a special interest?? ik we’ve talked abt how hard he masks but bein around Adam (n Mallick) helps him relax abt that, so like maybe how does he react + what is th special interest? anything u wanna dish abt!

thank u it’s always SAW ask time in my heart <33

!!! I was just thinkin abt tht!!! our minds 💫

I think th first time he rly sees Adam stimming (i.e. flapping his hands) he’d be like “what’s that?” but not in a rude way - genuinely a tone of “I want 2 know more abt this thing, pls tell me” rather than anything anywhere near condescending/annoyed/mean-spirited like Adam has dealt w fr YEARS at this point. so he’s definitely put on edge a lil bit bc he can’t help it, maybe he starts to like wind down and force himself into quiet hands, but Lawrence is immediately like “no I wasn’t making fun of you!! u don’t have to stop doing it!” which kinda stops Adam short like. what r we doing here. usually when ppl ask me tht they’re also telling me 2 stop. finally Lawrence says “I was just wondering what kind of stim tht was,” like he didn’t almost (accidentally) uproot Adam’s whole shit + is currently Doing So Now by using actual terms tht Adam didn’t know he knew, n so he like takes a moment to absorb tht comment n then he’s like. “oh. it means I’m happy or excited?” and honestly? when Lawrence hears tht? he’s like “oh... so then you’re rly happy? 🥺” n it’s just like. a moment fr both of them lol. (Adam feels Much safer discussing things after tht too, in several ways. it definitely helps w building trust between them!!)

after that though Lawrence definitely takes notice of more things! he’s not afraid 2 ask questions, so tht’s smth tht’s rly good fr them - Lawrence being able to seek information (he also does his own reading + research) to better understand, n not in tht shitty mommy blogger “I know yr in there somewhere” way. he doesn’t want 2 change Adam. he wants a better grasp on wht Adam’s experiences r like so he can help n minimize stress abt certain things. fr Adam tht’s definitely like.. foreign territory, bc as u’ve mentioned b4 + my personal hc as well, his parents didn’t really care 2 get him formally diagnosed + even acted like there was No Way he cld be neurodivergent in any sense, so 2 have some1 who is interested n respectful is So important 2 him. (personal hc time: I hc Adam as both adhd AND autistic like me so there’s tht!!)

so like he takes notice of th way Adam likes 2 roll things btwn his fingers (shirt sleeves, shirt hems, hoodie drawstrings, blankets, soft fabrics he likes the texture of, etc.) n is just like Oh Idea. I like 2 think he gets Adam one of those bead lanyards (like this one, which I also have!) fr him to fidget w n he kind of presents it like “I thought maybe u wld like smth like this?” n honestly he’s a lil nervous abt what Adam is going 2 say. but Adam takes it n holds it fr a minute, rolling th beads n messing w th lanyard itself 2 kind of test it, n he just looks up n smiles n he’s like “I love this. u’ve been paying tht much attention??” n fr Lawrence it’s just like “yes? of course? bc I love u?” like it’s th simplest thing in th world n Adam’s just. Huh. no he does Not tear up, if Lawrence told u tht he’s lying. he’s just Rly not used 2 ppl who want 2 know more without wanting to “get inside his head” or belittle him fr it (ties into my hc tht fr th most part, Adam hasn’t rly had any Good friends...) so it takes a lil getting used to.

another thing!! Lawrence does is ask 2 listen 2 Adam infodump abt his special interests - esp photography!! like they do this thing where if it’s not too late at night by th time Lawrence comes home frm work, Lawrence will take a quick shower n then get into his pajamas n into bed (just fr some quiet quality time b4 they go to bed, bc he still tends 2 come home a bit late), n he’ll have Adam sit next 2 him n he’ll be like “what do u want to tell me?” bc tht’s another thing tht Adam was entirely unused 2 - having ppl who didn’t just tolerate his infodumping, they wanted to hear it. Lawrence might be th first person to not actually give him shit fr it/tell him he’s being annoying/shut him down completely. again, it takes Adam a lil bit to b fully comfortable w it, but once he is he adores having tht time to be excited abt things w another person! who he knows Wants to listen!! (if we’re going th route I personally like 2 think abt sometimes too, where Lawrence is autistic as well, I feel like they infodump back n forth abt photography n medical stuff. do either of them rly know what the other is saying? not rly. are they listening happily bc that’s their partner n it’s smth they’re excited abt? oh absolutely!)

I think Adam has a tendency to eat a lot of th same foods bc they’re safe n he knows he likes them/doesn’t mind their texture (which is a big issue w trying new foods fr him), which is smth tht Lawrence also takes note of and as such, he likes 2 make sure they’re regularly stocked up on at least some of tht stuff. it’s not even smth he tells Adam he’s doing, bc it’s rly tht simple 2 him - Adam likes these things n therefore we shld have them at th house - but fr Adam it’s just One Of Those Things, y’know?? he got so much shit as a kid fr being such a “picky eater” n got shit fr it as a teenager too bc “why don’t u ever try anything new??” was smth his friends/parents Loved 2 say. it’s th fact tht Lawrence rolls w it so easily, doesn’t poke or prod for reasons he eats th way he does, and doesn’t get upset w him fr it/try 2 force him into things he isn’t comfortable w. it means a lot to him, more than he’ll ever have words 2 say (but he does always kiss Lawrence’s cheek when he gets back frm th store n he sees some of his same foods, which is just as good). it’s loving tht he’s autistic because it’s a part of him, a fact, not despite or in spite of. tht’s what’s so nice n kind of healing abt it; feeling safe 2 express yrself as u are w a partner who u know u can trust. who maybe words questions a bit funny sometimes, completely unintentionally, not out of malice (where allistic Lawrence is concerned, anyway). Adam feels Safe, n tht means a lot 2 him.

as fr ways he helps him!! a big thing is tht Lawrence is observant, esp as they spend more n more time together. a lot of th time, even when it’s just th two of them alone, Adam might have trouble maintaining eye contact fr an extended period of time, n Lawrence might not know how much it Actually helps, but he doesn’t mind tht Adam doesn’t always look at his face when they’re talking. it’s smth tht takes a little getting used 2, but he was never shitty about it w Adam. the way he sees it is if it makes Adam more comfortable, why shld he get upset abt it? it’s not like he doesn’t know when Adam’s talking 2 him anyway, or tht he can’t tell if Adam is listening; Lawrence knows both of those things, so Adam not making eye contact isn’t a problem, y’know? it’s okay. n I rly don’t know if Lawrence is fully aware of how much Adam appreciates tht.

another thing is he’s patient + understanding when Adam is nonverbal, whether it be bc he’s having a shutdown/meltdown, sensory overload, or just plain Difficulty w speech. it kinda depends on what I’m writing at th time, but I feel like Adam might have picked up at least a lil bit of sign language here n there; mostly simple phrases tht get th point across. I like 2 think Lawrence learns what they mean so he can take tht stress off of Adam’s shoulders, but most times, Adam is just comfortable sitting in silence w someone he cares abt.

OH brief thing Lawrence is RLY good at helping w pressure stims. he gives amazing bear hugs n I feel like he’d also probably let Adam lay on him if they’re on th couch/in bed. I just Feel It.

-

OHH I think abt Eric finally developing a special interest now tht he feels more comfortable w doing so a lot. honestly I kind of rly like th idea tht his special interest might be info abt rats! it kind of hits him when he catches himself writing down lil facts (tht might not even be related to pet care!) in his notebook so he’ll remember them + always being excited 2 learn more n share what he’s learned. it makes Adam SO happy to see him being comfortable w tht aspect of himself, esp now that he’s safe to explore it w ppl who understand n who won’t discourage him/belittle him for it,, Mallick too of course, but Adam knows how much Eric struggled w tht kind of thing for such a long time so he’s just. Ah. 🥺🥺

like they’ll all b chilling on th couch (Eric, Mallick, n Adam) n Eric will have his head against Adam’s shoulder while his hand is on Mallick’s chest, who has HIS head in Eric’s lap w his legs dangling off th armrest, n he’ll be like “did u know tht when rats r happy, they grind their teeth together? it’s called bruxing n then sometimes their eyes move in their sockets rly fast while they’re doing it. tht’s called boggling.” n Adam will be smiling so wide when he says he didn’t know tht but it’s rly cool!! n then Mallick will start asking questions n he n Adam just listen while Eric infodumps fr probably th very first time since he was very very young, before it was masked out of him by his parents. n he finds tht he Doesn’t feel so bad abt it anymore, not when he’s around ppl who want him to be happy and want to see him be happy - esp ppl who encourage it n let him know it isn’t smth he has to hide/keep locked away. it’s hard 2 b ashamed of himself when Adam n Mallick r looking at him w genuine interest in their eyes n so so much love.

he might still like, slip back into masking behaviour every now n then, bc it’s something he’s still dealing w n learning 2 leave behind, but after he discovers his first special interest it gets a little easier, letting go of that way of life. it was smth he was forced into by adults who didn’t actually want th best for him like they said they did when they put him through “therapy,” but w partners he knows understand n who are even autistic themselves, Eric slowly learns 2 be more comfortable w it. it’s slow, but it’s progress. bit of a learning curve. he’ll get there.

[talkingtea]

Not gonna lie, I like Mirror Iris only bc I enjoy seeing CP play the subtle differences btwn the two and I wanna know what her endgame is, but I felt bad for Barry lol the way she curved him boy is getting played

Candice plays Mirror Iris so well. She plays her off just a hair but it’s enough to make the audience see that there isn’t something right. Not only that but the way her and Grant play opposite each other you can feel the tension. You can practically see the wheels turning in his head after each of those cheek kisses. Their scenes are well played by both of them.

[northside-serpent]

The Seamstress

Disclaimer: this isn’t good at all, and this is mainly due to the major writer’s block that has taken over me.

I also totally forgot to add in the part about the reader being related to Gaius until I posted this, so I just decided to leave it out. Hope you aren’t too upset.

-H

Request: May I get a Gwaine x reader or a Sir Leon x reader where the reader (Giaus' granddaughter lost somehow) is just kinda a lonely soul and works as a seamstress but can be seen helping the people of Camelot? Like helping to cart their food, and playing with the children if their parents are busy, and offering to help clean at the tavern? I dunno something like that? I'm kinda trash for Leon and Gwaine. Maybe for inspiration (if you're willing to accept) you could listen to the Perfect/Can't Help Falling In Love mashup by BTWN US. All I can think of is one of them slowly falling in love with the reader as they observer her helping people. - @finnofamerica

Pairing: Sir Leon x Reader

Fandom: BBC Merlin

Warnings: SHORT, crappy beginning, crappy middle, crappy end, crappy all around

Words: 883

Merlin wandered into the village in search of Guinevere, only to find one Sir Leon leaning in the shadows of the local tavern. Merlin followed his strong gaze to a merchant’s stand.

The merchant was a young girl with shining (Y/H/C) hair, and lovely (Y/S/T) skin. She held out a vibrant red dress to a group of woman swarming the cart.

“Beautiful gown.” Merlin commented from behind Leon.

“Hmmm…” Leon hummed in response.

A smirk grew on Merlin’s face. “It would look just smashing on you.”

“Hmmm…” Leon hummed again.

Merlin, despite his best efforts, burst out laughing, causing Leon to spin on his heel and his affectionate stare turned into one of annoyance.

He cleared his throat. “Melin.”

“Leon, see something you like?”

“Well, I was just-” he coughed. “Admiring the seamstress's work.”

“Ah, yes, (Y/N) is a very fine seamstress.” Merlin began. “And very beautiful.”

“Oh,” Leon said sarcastically. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Really? Then you must really like her work.”

Leon sighed. “Is there something you need, Merlin?”

Merlin giggled like a little girl and began to slink away. “No, nothing at all.”

Leon rolled his eyes and turned back to you.

You now were knelt down on the cobblestone, speaking to a young boy and girl, siblings. Leon recognized them, and their parents who were speaking to the man at the produce cart next to yours.

He watched you as you showed them the selection of things you sold, and even presented the girl with a golden ring encrusted with a small sapphire. The girls face lit up with enjoyment and turned to show her parents.

Leon found himself with a grin on his face at your kindness and his heart began racing at the thought of you.

***

Later that night, Leon and Gwaine roamed the empty village streets on patrol, when a scream ripped through the air.

Flames were visible over the cover of the wooden buildings and smoke floated up and disappeared into the dark of night.

By the time Leon and Gwaine finally reached the burning house, it was nothing more than a ball of flames. Crowds of people surrounded the house, many of them crying, spread apart to allow a line from the well to the house to pass buckets of water to throw on the fire.

Leon ran up to a group of people covered in soot, whom he’d assumed as the family who lived in the burning house.

“Is everyone out safe?” He asked the mother.

“Yes!” She cried. “My boy, Alfred!”

“Don’t worry,” he told her. “We’ll save your son.”

“Leon!” Gwaine yelled. “Look!”

He pointed towards the house, where a figure emerged from the flames carrying Alfred.

“Alfred!” The mother cried, running passed Leon and taking her son into her arms.

Leon rushed forward and caught the figure just as their legs gave away. He turned them to see their face.

“(Y/N)?”

Your face was coated with soot and the hem of your nightdress burnt.

He brushed a hand over your blackened cheek and looked around.

“Help!” He yelled. “She needs help!”

***

The next time Leon saw you, it was at your cart, two weeks after the fire. He watched you from his usual place by the tavern. His eyes were locked on you, but he found himself unable to breathe as your eyes locked with his.

He averted his gaze and beelined for the tavern door, where he hid until he deemed it safe to step out.

“They say you saved me,” a sweet voice sounded from behind Leon as he emerged from the tavern.

He turned his head, finding the owner of that voice.

“(Y/N),” he began. “I-I mean, yes, but Gaius was the one who really healed you.”

You smiled at him. “I still feel that I should thank you somehow…” you leaned up and kissed his stubbly cheek.

Leon felt a furious blush take over his entire face and neck.

“Well then I accept your ‘thank you’.”

With his new-found confidence, he grabbed you by your waist and pressed his lips to yours.

[skimblyshanks]

For the Unusual otp ask game for Alonzo/Misto!

4. After a bad day, what would each member of your otp do to cheer the other up?

5. What's your otp's ideal vision of the future? What would they want to happen? Where would they want to live?

18.What are the small gestures with which your otp says 'I love you'? Are those daily rituals? Is the other aware of the intention behind those gestures?

Unusual OTP Asks!

4.) I don't think Alonzo is really one to articulate his feelings, at least not in the immediate aftermath of something distressing to him, but he's also not one to distract with other topics in the immediate aftermath, so when shit happens and he's had a bad day, Misto's usual course of action is to just sit with him (couch, bed, floor, anywhere) and like. Hold him/cuddle. this method is only effective when it's Misto or when it's Munk bc they're the ppl Alonzo feels most comfortable being so touchy Feely around, and it has to be a really bad day to keep him from immediately cuddling back.

Misto, on the other hand, finds full-on cuddling when he's had a bad day to feel claustrophobic. Sometimes he'll want to rip off the band-aid (or, plaster, I guess. They're bri'ish lol) and start ranting right away, but other times(most times) he just wants to stop thinking about it for the moment. Alonzo's still a tactile kinda guy tho, so the usual course of action for him is to switch on the TV, ask if it's ok for him to touch (it usually is) and then he'll gently massage Misto's neck+shoulders and listen as he talks, either abt the problem itself or about anything else, occasionally sneaking kisses from Misto's jaw to his cheek throughout. If Misto's not feeling a massage that day, Alonzo will sit next to him and either rub his back occasionally, or else have one of Misto's hands rest on one of his own.

5.) I think Misto was the first to have the most defined vision of an ideal future. Alonzo didn't (and still doesn't) like planning out hypotheticals beyond "we're still together and we're still happy," meanwhile Misto was already thinking abt grandkids and old age ghvvdgjb. In fairness to Misto, he was going to want kids regardless of who he ended up with, and, accompanying that, he was always going to fantasize abt living somewhere with enough open space for said kids to play and worry about breaking or dirtying things; they were just ideas misto had since he was old enough to recognize how a family structure was generally built + that one day he could start his own family. On the other hand, it's not that Alonzo didn't ever want or think abt having kids, so much as he didn't want to get his hopes up only for it to never end up happening. Once it became a near-certainty that they would have kids he was 100% on board; his outline for an ideal future stretched to include that their kids were raised well.

In my anthro and human aus Bustopher sets them up with an old family property a bit of a ways out from the city (Meaning Misto p effectively fulfills his main future family goals), while in my more feline aus it's more of a balancing act btwn Misto's humans' home, Alonzo's home in the Vicarage, and the Junkyard (It's a not insubstantial disappointment for Misto that they and the kittens have so much back-and-forth, but he gets used to it even if he doesn't love it).

Those 2 new cryptid babies Ichabod and Pooka were 1000% surprise kids for everyone but once they're there, neither misto nor alonzo could even believe they weren't planned-for ahead of time.

18.) It's cliche but Misto will absolutely come up from behind with a hug and a nuzzle into Alonzo's neck. If not that a passing peck on the cheek, nose, or lips. They're small reassurances in Alonzo's love language to make sure he picks up on that. They can have just had a fight, Misto still upset at Alonzo, and he will still be sure to kiss his forehead or at the very least squeeze his shoulder before storming out.

Alonzo's everyday gestures stem from knowing Misto's schedule (especially when it changes), and preparing things to make it go smoothly. Quietly starting the coffee so it's ready once Misto's up, organizing his things without digging too deep into Misto's personal belongings, prepping the table, leaving out reminders for sudden changes, and generally staying out of the way while Misto goes about his mornings. Misto can struggle with getting his days started, so he absolutely notices once the wheels are suddenly greased without him doing anything.

I also think they both hold/squeeze each other's hands out of habit. If one or both is excited/stressed/sad/annoyed/scared/mad/anything at all, there's going to be a moment of grabbing and squeezing hands.

[toxicanonymity]

so excited for next raider joel i am literally foaming at the mouth

Company

2.2k / dark raider!joel x dark!f!reader x ofc

raider master

gif by @serenaxpedro

“I’ll do it,” you say, unsure what that even means. Joel looks surprised and impressed.  “You’ll do it, then,” he repeats quietly.

Skip ahead to Raider: Close if you're not into the warnings.

WARNINGS: Striking through extra detailed spoilery warnings but wanna be thorough. These don't all happen to reader. Angst, jealousy, dark reader!, FFM threesome kind of, oral m & f receiving, spanking/pussy slapping, noncon gunplay/penetration, unsafe P in V sex (not btwn Joel and OFC), dubcon via captivity, degradation, cum eating, threat of/allusions to cheating kind of. joel makes reader noncon ofc, f on f oral  PLUS stuff already in play like being chained up.

A/N: Ask 1, Ask 2. TBH I had trouble getting on board with the idea of adding another girl, but eventually a twisted version i could live with came together in my head. Still, I bet some people will not like it. Please don't read if you could be triggered or upset. 🧡 I did not describe the OFC, so please HC her however makes you happy.

-

When Joel gets back, his arms are the first thing you notice.  He’s wearing a body holster with a pistol over his mesh tank top.  The body holster makes his shoulder muscles look even more imposing.  The second thing you notice is that he’s not alone.  He’s dragging another girl by her elbow.  She looks like she’s been crying, but she’s not now.  She’s angry.  Joel doesn’t look at you when he comes in.  He slams the door behind him and hangs up his gun.  He throws her down on the other bed, then cages her with his body.   He holds her chin and and says, “Don’t fuckin’ move.”  She spits in his face.  

He takes a deep breath and cracks his neck without his hands.  ”Been nothin’ but nice to ya,” he says.  “That ends now.”  

Shamefully, your first thought is, what does he mean by ‘nice to her’? Was he the same as he is with you? Did he save her from a worse fate? Did he stroke her cheek and tell her it was going to be alright? Did tell her he was going to take her with him, protect her from far worse men?  How many times has he done this? You hate to think you might not be special.  

Joel unbuttons his pants and looks at the girl menacingly. “Coulda made this enjoyable for ya,” he says regretfully.  “Too bad.”

Your stomach turns and your heart pounds.  Is this all because you kissed him? Is he punishing you for your affection? It’s not fair.  He’s the one who kissed you first in the middle of the night.  Your eyes sting with tears.  You can’t sit here and let this happen.

“What are you doing?” you cry. 

“What am I doing?” he laughs.  He pauses without unzipping his pants.  Finally, he looks at you as he palms himself.  Your eyes follow his hand and you’re relieved to see he’s not fully hard yet. 

“Don’t,” you plead.  “I’ll do whatever you want.”

He unzips his tight jeans and takes his semi-hard cock out.  He asks you, “Where should I put it?” with his pelvis still pointed toward the other bed. 

“Do you have to put it anywhere?” you whimper.  The girl looks at you hopefully like you really have a say.  Like you might be trying to help her. 

“Do I have to,” he grumbles.  You run through the options in your head.  He could put it in her mouth, that’s not too bad. A mouth is just a mouth, right? There’s no way she would do a good job on purpose. But hopefully she wouldn’t bite him, either. 

-

Joel approaches you and spits in his hand.  As he begins to stroke himself with the spit, you say, “Let me.” He holds his cock for you and you try to suck him as good as you can, but he just wants the saliva.  He won’t let you make him come.  Your eyes well up.  

“Shhhh,” he says and cups your cheek as he takes his cock away.  He sighs, then nods back toward the rest of the stash house. “You think they want just any girl? They want what’s mine.” He glances over at the girl then back at you.  He lowers his voice. “She could save your life.” As sweet as that is, it doesn’t make you feel much better about him putting his cock in another woman.  

“Do you really have to?” you plead. 

“Where do you want me to put it?” he asks again.

“In me,” you beg.  He studies your face. 

He looks up at the ceiling contemplatively.  “Well either I’m doin’ it, or you’re doin’ it,” he offers. 

“I’ll do it,” you say, unsure what that even means.  You just know it has to be better than watching or hearing him fuck another girl.  If you have to finger her or even give her head, so be it.

Joel looks surprised and impressed.  “You’ll do it, then,” he repeats quietly.  He unchains you from the radiator and takes the pistol out of his body holster.  He holds it by the barrel and hands it to you.  

Your face goes cold. 

“No,” the girl whimpers, sitting in the corner of the cot with her knees hugged into her chest. 

“You heard her,” Joel says.  “She’s doin’ it. Right, sweet pea?”  

Your hand shakes as you grip the gun.   Joel motions for you to go to the other bed.  

-

“You’re sick,” the girl whimpers at Joel. “Shoot him!” she demands of you.  “What are you waiting for?? SHOOT HIM!” 

Instead, you stand at the end of the cot.  “Get back here,” you say weakly, gun still shaking in your hand.  “And turn over.” 

She shakes her head.  You cock the gun. 

“Damn,” Joel whispers. She still doesn’t move. She cries. 

Joel loses patience and grabs her by the thighs, jerking her to the end of the bed.  He pulls her dress up over her ass, clenches his jaw, and spanks her.  Then he stands between you and the bed.  He spits on his fingers and turns to face you.  He keeps his knuckles facing you as he reaches back and slaps her pussy without looking at her. She yelps. He keeps his hand there and rubs her clit while he stares at you with his hard dick in his other hand. 

“Go on,” he tells you.  “You can do it, sweet pea.” 

“You’re both sick,” she whimpers. 

You steady the gun in both hands, avoiding the trigger, and bring the muzzle to her wet cunt.  She shrieks at the cold ring of metal.  Then you grab her hip for leverage and use your dominant hand to carefully push the barrel into her, gently maneuvering it so it doesn’t catch.  She groans “No.”  

Joel strokes your cheek and looks at you affectionately.  Then he gets behind you, with both of you facing the bed.  He puts his hands on your hips and presses his hard-on into your dress. 

“Go on,” Joel urges and his cock hardens as he pushes it against you.  

You begin to slide the gun in and out of her. 

Joel brings his mouth to your head.  “Good girl,” he whispers and puts his large hands on your hips.  He raises your dress, exposing your ass.  He pulls down your panties, then puts a hand on the small of your back.  You spread your feet more, so relieved and grateful he’s not fucking the other girl.  He flattens his fingers and rubs your clit until you’re wet enough.  It doesn’t take long. 

-

You’ve slowed down with the pistol, focusing more on the feeling of his hand between your legs.  Joel pauses.  “Don’t stop,” Joel cautions.  “Or I’ll do it myself, and not with the gun.”  You start again.  He notches the head of his cock at your entrance and waits. You begin railing her steadily with the barrel of the gun.  “Good, sweet pea,” he murmurs.  

He pushes his tip inside you and you gasp at the stretch, temporarily pausing the rhythm of the gun.  Then he puts one hand on your pelvis for leverage and holds a breast with the other.  He slams his cock into you, jolting you up and forward, with the momentum slamming the gun harshly into her cunt.  She whimpers.  

“Sorry,” you whisper to her and try to steady your hand as Joel fucks you. But the last thing you would do is ask him to stop or ease up. 

Joel drives his length into you steadily.  Your face tenses and your temples feel weak.  You’re still jealous and your mind drifts to whether he’s looking at you or the other girl.  Or is he just watching you fuck her with his gun.  You know he’s an awful man.  Face it, it turns him on. 

You put it out of your mind and focus on the feeling of being filled by him.  His fingers pressing into your skin as his cock impales you, strong but gentle, like him.  You can’t help but moan as he fills you up with his flesh. His cock completes you just right.  You need him to be all yours. 

He switches hands, using his other hand for leverage as he cups your opposite breast.  He buries his mouth in your neck and that makes you feel better, your brow softens.  He bites you and it feels close enough to a kiss that your heart swells.  He sucks your skin, and he moans at the feeling of your nipple hardening into the palm of his hand.  He massages your breast and you begin to twitch around his cock.  He moans into your neck.

“Sweet pea,” he murmurs. “You feel so good.”  Your heart flutters at his words and your lower abdomen buzzes with warmth.  “Whore like that could never. No one else could.” With that validation, you fuck her harder with the gun. “That’s it, baby,” Joel whispers, slamming his cruel cock into you.  “Just like that.”  Your arm gets tired and you switch hands.  It’s so tempting to put down the gun, but you don’t want to find out whether he’d really fuck her.  You don’t want to disappoint him either, and you don’t want him to stop fucking you.

Joel’s hands slither around your body, and his cock pounds into you harder.  “You’re doin’ great, pretty girl.” You feel yourself on the edge of climax.  He slams into you with a grunt. “This pussy’s all mine,” he pants.  “gonna stay that way.”  You lean back into his chest and enjoy the feeling of his body wrapped around yours while you’re wrapped around his cock.  He begins to stroke your clit and you moan.  He breathes heavier and grunts with each thrust. 

He pulls out before either of you come.  You sigh at the loss but his fingers gather slick from your dripping cunt then return to your clit and he outdoes himself.  He puts his mouth to your ear.  “Go ‘head, baby,” and his low whisper makes you see stars.  

You moan and tremble and fall into her, plunging the gun deeper. 

“Pretty when ya come,”  he murmurs and rubs your back while you finish.  Then he grabs your ass affectionately and steps to your side;  You flinch, your ass is even more sore today. 

He slowly pumps his cock and kneels onto the cot with one knee.  He takes your hand and makes you take the gun out. She collapses onto the dirty mattress.  

-

“What’d I do wrong?” you ask him.  

“You did great, sweet pea. You did perfect,” he says as he gets up on the cot and it creaks under his full weight.  

She tries to squirm away and he stops her with a hand on her ass. He’s facing her side and looking at you as he pumps himself.  He straddles one of her legs and you whimper.  He points his cock at her pussy, then he looks at you again as he strokes himself and comes on her ass.  It trickles down her crack to her cunt. You don’t want his cum between her legs, it tugs at your tear ducts, but you’re comforted by his eye contact with you when he came. 

He gets off the cot, tucks his dick away, then comfortingly squeezes your shoulder and watches you watch his cum trickle down.  “You want it so bad, take it,”  he says.  He crosses his arms and nods toward her.  

It feels like a command.  You reach out your hand. 

“Nuh-uh.  With your mouth, sweet pea.” 

You obediently bend at the hips and lean over the cot.  Joel pries her legs open for you.  You plant your mouth between her legs and lick from her cunt, while trying to strain your eyes to meet Joel’s for approval.  “Yeah, get it all, baby.”  You drag your tongue up her crack. 

You swallow it and he holds out his arms for you.  He helps you down from the cot and takes you back over to yours.  “You’re gonna stay here for a li’l bit, sweet pea.  Keep her company.”  

You sniffle. “Do I have to?”

“Yeah, baby. I’ll come back for you later.”  He kisses you on the head and makes sure you’re comfortable before he chains you back.  

-

After Joel leaves, you and the other girl are both silent for a while.  Then she tries to get through to you, tries to convince you that the two of you can outsmart him together.  When pleading doesn’t work, she tries tough love.  “I get it,” she says. “You think he cares about you. But he doesn’t.  You think he’s faithful to you, just because he owns you.”

“He does care.” 

“Well I don’t see your name on his chest.  And his dick sure didn’t taste faithful today.” 

Any sympathy you had for her evaporates with those words. Even if she’s lying, even if she’s trying to play you.  

“Pathetic,” she scoffs.  “You don’t even want to be free, do you?” 

You’re silent for a minute, then get an idea.  “You’re right, I don’t.  But if you really want to, I can tell you how.”   

You know the guard won’t stay at the door all night.  You know the best time and route to get out of the house. If she gets away, good for her.  If she gets caught by one of Joel’s men, oh well. 

-

Thank you so, so much for reading and engaging! Love you guys. You will have your man to yourself next time.

-

if i've left you off please DM me. You can also follow @toxicfics and turn on notifications and you can follow @toxicrecs for my fic recs

[roman-reigns-princess]

Cat & Mouse (Roman Reigns): Chapter 1

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Read it on Wattpad Writing Masterlist

Summary: In a world of werewolves, and shapeshifters, WWE is a hotspot for such creatures. Lyra and her older half brother’s team are no different. Ever since she joined the company, Lyra and Roman had been undeniably attracted to each other, but nothing good ever comes easy. Will Lyra and Roman give in to each other? Or will Seth come between his sister and her happily ever after? 

Warnings (will be edited as fic goes on): 18+, will be NSFW at some point, age difference (I guess? Idk what people consider an age difference, but I won’t specify her age, all Ima say is she’s like a couple yrs younger than Seth), smut (later on in the fic), Alpha!Roman

Lyra (OFC) Face Claim: Becky G (as she is now, not in 2014)

Word Count: 1441

A/N: This fic is set in Jan 2014 around the Royal Rumble (pls ignore the fact that the gif is post shield, he’s so cute). Honestly Seth and Dean are pretty irrelevant to the story and will probs only be here for like the 1st & 2nd chap, I just needed the Shield dynamic for angst btwn Roman and Lyra lmao. This is like my first actual fic in years so pls go easy on me 😅

Tag List (if anyone wants to be added, let me know): @m-a-t-91 @mrsamberlopezgoodanoai @simulated-heat @greatbreadwizard @hoodgirl163 @sabrina-the-champ @thiickreigns @alexahood21 @ii-love-roman-reigns @queenreignsempire @flawlessglamazon @not-that-kinda-gurl08 @x-fivefoot  @finnbalorsdemonqueen @romanempirefics @rocketgirl2410 @sausagefest1996 @vebner37 @macfizzle @cute-face-chubby-waist @wwefoever70 @horcruxhunter5972

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

Lyra rushed to pack up her station; RAW was done for the day and it was less than a week till the Royal Rumble, so things were getting hectic even for makeup artists such as herself.

She was traveling with her brother and his partners as usual, and they always bugged her about packing up quicker. She scrambled around, frantically searching for her brushes; every other make up bag was packed away in her roller bag, except that one.

She grumbled to herself, knowing that Seth was going to chew her out for being late again. She got down on her hands and knees to check if she’d accidentally kicked it under a table, when a strong arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her up, making her yelp in alarm.

“As much as I love seein you with your ass in the air, we really gotta go, baby girl,” Roman’s deep voice rumbled in her ear as he set her on her feet; she could feel her face turning red as she stepped away. She just knew he’d be smirking when she turned to glare up at the Alpha standing behind her in his cargo style pants and a plain black t-shirt.

“I’m almost done, I’m just looking for one more thing,” she replied, choosing to ignore his blatant flirting.

Ever since she’d joined WWE as one of their permanent makeup artists, she’d caught the attention of WWE’s infamous Thoroughbred Alpha; Roman and her would flirt at any chance they got, constantly trying to find new ways to tease each other without Seth finding out.

But to Lyra’s dismay, Roman never let it go any further than a drunken New Years kiss; she knew he found her attractive, he never failed to let her know, but she couldn’t figure out if he was holding back because she was Seth’s sister, or perhaps he didn’t want to get involved with a half-human, half-shifter like her. Part of her wondered if he’d go further if she was half-werewolf, like her brother, instead of half-human.

Either way it left her frustrated and even more determined to get him to fuck her; but that moment wasn’t the right time for it, Seth was already annoying her with his rather hypocritical lectures about how he basically expected her to be a nun, she didn’t need him to bitch her out about punctuality.

“Hey girl, you left this by my station,” said one of the other girls working makeup that night, holding out a little black bag, her eyes flitting between Lyra and Roman before settling on the shifter with an amused look.

“Oh fuck, thanks, I nearly lost my shit when I couldn’t find my brushes,” Lyra said with a nervous laugh as she took the bag from the girl who gave them a small nod and walked away while Lyra stuffed the brushes into her roller bag and zipped it up. “Alrighty, I’m all done.”

“Okay we gotta hurry, think you can keep up? Or do I gotta carry you?” He said, grabbing the handle of her bag in one hand and her forearm with his other, dragging them both after him.

“Shut the fuck up, Reigns,” she huffed, barely managing to snatch her purse off the table as she struggled to keep up with his long strides, making him laugh in return.

She was thankful that the exit was fairly close as her short legs were starting to burn by the time they made it there; Seth had already pulled the car up with Dean riding shotgun. Her brother honked loudly at them, resulting in both Lyra and Roman flipping him off.

“Go ahead and get in, I’ll put your bag in the trunk with the rest of the shit,” said Roman, giving her ass a light smack, she shot him a dirty look but his back was turned to her. She got into the car behind Seth, and Roman joined soon after.

“Took you guys long enough,” Seth grumbled as he sped out of the arena parking lot, heading for the highway that would take them to their next destination.

“Hey don’t look at me, not my fault the little princess here couldn’t keep track of her shit,” Roman said with a shrug.

“Don’t throw me under the bus like that, asshole,” she hissed, punching his arm, which had absolutely no effect on him, but certainly made her regret that decision as her knuckles met hard muscle.

“I’m not gonna take the fall for you when you’re bein’ an irresponsible child,” he retorted, she rolled her eyes, scoffing as she pulled out her phone rather than reply. “Yo, Dean, move your seat up, man, I’m dyin’ back here.”

“You ain’t the only one with long legs, dude,” replied Dean.

“Fine, fine,” Roman muttered; Lyra was busy texting Naomi, whom she’d grown close with over the past few months, so she paid no attention to them until she suddenly found herself being crushed by the large Samoan as he took it upon himself to stretch out across the back seat.

“What the-damnit, Roman, get off me, you’re too big,” she squeaked, trying to push him off.

“Bet that’s not the first time he’s heard that,” Dean snorted, earning a fist bump from Roman, and cackle from Seth.

“Well, if you sit on my lap it’ll work out better for the both of us,” Roman suggested, shifting off of her temporarily. Lyra’s eyes snapped to her brother, or rather the back of his seat, wondering if he’d have a problem with it, but he didn’t seem to care as he hummed along to some 80s song playing on the radio.

“Okay, fine,” was her only reply; she was not going to say no to an opportunity to be pressed up against Roman, even if she was a little annoyed at him.

A year ago she would’ve refused the offer because shifters weren’t pack creatures, but after being around the Shield, and other werewolves in the company, she began to adapt to their pack mentality and the lack of personal boundaries with close friends.

Biting her lip, she moved to sit sideways on Roman’s lap, expecting him to leave her be, but to her surprise he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him so that her back was flush against his warm chest while he moved to stretch across the back seat. She couldn’t help but feel tiny as her smaller frame lay on top of his much larger one.

She was a little surprised at how relaxed she felt in his arms, but that feeling was soon replaced by tension when she felt his lips pressed up against her right ear.

“You see, babe, I’m great at making big things fit, I’ve had lots of practice,” Roman said soft enough so that only Lyra heard it. She felt the blood rush to her face, and she elbowed him in response, not trusting herself to say something, but she knew just how to get back at him.

“Anyone want a lollipop?” She asked as she opened up her purse; she smirked inwardly as she felt Roman shift beneath her.

“What’re you, a five year old?” Dean quipped, making her kick the back of his seat. “Hey, watch it, don’t think I won’t kick your ass just cause you’re Seth’s baby sis.”

“Calm down, the both of you,” Seth said, sounding more than a little exasperated. “And I’ll take grape.”

“You always finish my grape pops,” she grumbled as she handed one to him and picked out a cherry flavoured one for herself. “You’re buying me my next bag of candy.”

“Whatever, kiddo,” he replied; she contemplated hitting his seat too, but settled on unwrapping her lollipop instead.

“Roman,” she said, looking up to find his eyes transfixed on the candy in her hand as she gave it a slow lick. “D'you want one too?”

“I, uhm, what, oh,” Roman cleared his throat, his arms tightened around her as she swirled her tongue around the lollipop; he forced himself to meet her eyes as she blinked up at him innocently. “I’m all good, babe, you just keep licking and sucking like a good girl.”

“Mmmhmm,” was her only response as she sucked on it, hollowing her cheeks out. She couldn’t help but feel smug when he finally averted his eyes, mumbling under his breath about how this was going to be a long journey.

She wriggled around in his arms until she found a position she liked, not that any position that involved her on top of Roman could ever be uncomfortable, but she wanted to tell Naomi about this, and she certainly couldn’t have Roman looking at her phone. While it may be a long journey for Roman, it was going to be a fun ride for her.

[dogshitmagazine]

Norbert

I adore carol and her voluptuous curves make me ache with need to serve her. her well endowed, exquisitely shaped derriere entrances me for ass-worship. Luv 2b her loo 4a wkend.I will be in a device in her basement; knelt down, sat back on my heels & facing up. she will feed me long girthy lumps straight down me from her.she will bask in the know that her relieved feeling of 'empty' is to my devoted 'fill'.will rinse my mouth to give her a fresh 'clean'.

...and i'm just 25

...and i'm just 25

She will purposely starve me a li'l bit and bask in the euphoric goddessness of my pleading to be fed by having my eager lips gently sucking on her rim while she offloads huge lengthy nourishments down me. after 2 days she'll be delighted that im 'running' completely and exclusively on 'her'.

On a lazy sunday morning.her in front of telly lying on sofa on her side with legs folded and browsing with the remote. i wld b knelt @dbotom of sofa gently rimming her with a moist tongue and gently probing her with a stiff tongue @times. wen she gently comands: 'IN' i will gently slide my stiff tongue up her. she ld squeeze n hold for as long as it pleases her (to my painpleasure obviously, DOH!) her gigles will vibrate my face.she'll relish in that my lipstongue have bcom 1 with her *

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She took me wine tasting,me crawlin after her on all 4s ind posh winery wit well laid tables.she says with a chuckle:i luv dwhite 1s butisuppose u'ld have what ive had.after about 30mins of sipping she says to me'its ur turn'iquickly take my place:kneeling,sitting back on my heels and leaning back with hands supportin me ond floor&face looking upwards; she lifts one leg over my face and straddles my face while standing over me,i obediently begin to empty her bladder ever so gently.

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My goddess gently enquires afterwards;u savour ur 'drinks' but take ur 'food' straight down u, becos i dont want d 'aroma' hanging, ur doing a good job on that by the way but y dont u switch tactics so u can taste ur meal for just once. 'Yes, my goddess' i say. And maybe there will b a quiz afterwards...on what i had 4 lunch,there may be treats and whips too

During 'feeding' carol says to me:All Ur food & Drinks will always go thru me 1st 4d rest of ur life.Its been 7wks of 'living' off me and i must say that ur healthy and energetic.I suppose its bcos i vary my meals and u benefit from that afterwards.Ur well nourished but ofcourse my body takes all it needs and then u have my rejects, Delish! isnt it, slave? 'Yes Goddess' i answer

One eve, she says 2me: "i feel a bit naughty & im going 2hv fun with feeding u.Ill pinch ur nose shut while i offload down u to c how quickly u swallow to breathe.U seem to tell what i had 4dinner but this time u cant as it will go down too fast!" she says gleefully."but i suppose u will tell as u will lick ur plate thoroughly as usual, oh well, i didnt think this thru, did i?" Not to worry, theres the rest of ur live to try other things"

Durin her futmasage,me kneltback@dfoot fdsofa;her lyin onsofa on herback inher shortdres revealin hergoddess legs frm toeto hip.she say:ihve dis fut masage oil4 2day.she look@ dlabel which say:fut masageoil;dontswallow.shesay2m­e "ahhh"&she sqirts loadsf oil onmy tongue.I then start2gently lick her soles,gentlysuckin her toes& slipin my tong btwn dem lashing themclean.after 1hr she puts her left heel on my4head making me face up &den stuffsher right heel inmymouth as d oil trickle down my throat.

'Feeding times' have become very efficient lately.Like an airtight 'transfer' btwn 2 tube channels,she rolls up her figure hugging dress,with legs a bit apart she bends her knees and arches her back to point her endowed, spellbinding ass in the air.then i kneel behind her and with rim suction, my mouth makes one smooth channel from her belly to mine and then feeding starts; really long,thick and high density,they slide continously down me for over a min. then i lick her clean and shes away again

There's nothing, absolutely nothing better than a full arse on wide hips.NOTHING.So lovingly overwhelming when im kneeling,looking vertically up onto goddess carol's endowed arse hovering poutingly &a few inches over my face; teasingly ready to swoop down and have me suck her rim for yet another fantastic 'nourish' session.Or when she kneels on table edge& im knelt on d floor,she locks my face into her arse with her feet and then proceeds to feed me in bursts and gigle at my struggle to keep up.

...But i do keep up as i will never ever waste one dollop of her goodness.cant find it anywhere else in the world. soothes me so much that even though its been months and months since i 'depend' only on her for all nourishments, i have a clean if not fantastic bill of health. Every man feels the same need to 'kiss' when they see their ideal ass (remember the royal ass?) but the feeling is fleeting for some and persistent for others; well endowed women deep down will find a need to feed such men.

After a "heavy" feeding session Goddess carol says 2 me " i hope u feel as good as i do during & after feeding u because oh!D relief i get!!i feel lighter and so relieved & comfortable.Especially with justnow,not being funny but that was a meal &a half!Umust have luvd it as u've bin starving since morning & its 7pm.Love doing dat so u have d appetite & d meal was huge!! which relieves me loads. Everybody wins,slave!"yes, my goddess" i say with total obedience.

I also dearly luv when she has me rim her till she fall asleep on the sofa while i wait knelt at the foot of the sofa. sometimes she stirs and i have to start rimming again to soothe her back to sleep. Once she stirred,help my face and slapped me across d face and put my head back for continued rimming.My goddess is grumpy when she's sleepy but everything she does is perfect by me.Everything. she used to make me taste her shoe bottom sometimes.I completely belong to her (online).

My goddess carol surely knows how much i enjoy my 'meals' considering the way my tongue ransacks her crack afterwards. she leans forward and reaches back to part her cheeks for a more thorough tongue-lashing. I occasionally tongue-probe and slide deep up her and she squeezes and holds while giggling, then she lets go and the frantic licks continue. Except when she's been pigging all day & im well fed; the licks are gentle,slow strokes but thorough never the less. Love my fantacies.

@nobertkerry you so talk shit and need help you trainspotter whos never had a woman

@nobertkerry bro u need help honestly we all want to fuck her but all you talk about is anal , is this your closet gayness? you want to be her toilet? o man u screwed up. local whores might take u up on it

yes, deforkeane; i want to kneel behind Goddess carol and fix my lips around her rim while she's standing with knees bent slightly with her back arched and her spellbinding arse in all its glory.this being after all day of pigging out, she will gently and totally offload dowmn me while she moans and sighs gently as i gratefully gulp all of 'her' no matter how much the meal is. im not gay, i just have a worshippy feeling towards women shaped like her. whats ur fetish metrosexual manwoman?

Mylife is where iam;totally subservient toher.when im knelt @d sofa bottom and shes lying onit playing with my face withher feet :pinching my nose close,guiding me to lick btwn her toes,sucking them and her inspecting my gums and teeth by prising my lips wide with her 2big toes &making me longstroke her soles till she drifts into abeauty sleep;As nourishment-wise,all mycells say;'Goddess carol'; i suppose it y i'd rather have this life than be a hollywood star. she owns me.

As at now (and for ages),literally every fibre in my body is nourished completely and exclusively by 'her'.As a result im weaned off everything else and now cannot survive without her.If i won the megamillions lottery, i will get on my knees in front of her and hand over the winning ticket as my life is under her and anything else outside that means nothing.

Goddess carol reads alot!!on one of these many occasions shes lying comfy on her back on d sofa in as very short tight stretchy red dress which moulds her perfectly & im knelt at the bottom end of the sofa. while she's readin and going thru a box of chocolates she, with her left foot bends & pins my head to rest sideways on sofa while with her right foot she smacks my cheek sharply and in between she makes me suck her big toe; for hrs!! i luv that im hers.

Goddesscarol knows how much i miss her on her few long nights out with d girls so we have aroutine:After she's had her scented bath, made-up but still in just her lacy panties and bra,she has me sit on dfloor infront of d sofa &lean my head back onto the sofa facing me up;she sits on my face;With my face way up her crack&her legs hooked under my armpits to hold me there she makes calls to her girls to see if they are ready. i have to be 'breathless'for d call time.& then she's off with the girls

Goddesscarol says 2 me one restful morning: "i feel i should make u a cereal soaked only in 'lemonade'. luv to c u lap it up like a dog in front of me but then i enjoy it when u gently empty my bladder with ur lips.Also the cereal will mean i didnt 'process' it 4u 1st.oh well, its back to me having the full english breakfast, bacon and all and then feeding you in 2hrs.

Goddesscarol didnt leave dhouse so she played;she hadme go2d garden &kneelby dswing.Mins later shecame out wearing ONLY a barely-there shortdress&slippers.she climbed 2stand upright on my shoulders ;holding unto the crossbars she asks:amiheavy? No'ianswer looking up@her arse.iknow ulike dview from dia when u look up,now hold that gaze"she squats down &mylips latch unto her rim &as she loads me shesays:its astraight line from my belly 2urs & that makes iteasier4u. i know urthankful slave, i know.

My goddess says2me:D theme 4my outing with the girls2nite is 'schoolnite'&we will feast on junk like burgers and kebab,i know how thick&lengthy urfeeds are afterwards on such.oh well,get ready as idont want anymore tears as ur throat struggles totake my width!! the truth is that i luv such nites; iluv 2 suffer for my goddess more than she knows.after one such nite she loaded me and observed righty: Ur belly is huge with my load!i do feed u well! she was right on both counts.Best ive ever had 2.

Goddess carol says to me: 'This Xmas im gonna gorge on food as ive been a good girl all year. Also it will be interesting 2c u add weight off of me,very interesting.Do u luv it when i have pies,slave? 'yes goddess' i say.'oh, pish-tash' she says, 'you luv it all as long as its 'me'.what wines do u like me to have? the white ones feel softer when u drink it off me afterwards". Well, as for the food, i luv d ones dat make my dumps huge as i luv when u struggle and get teary-eyed.'oh, beef lasagna!

Soon afterthat was 'feeding time'.'thiswill b tricky'she muttered as she explained:iwill stand on d edge of desk&fall backwards uwill catch me like ina trust execise but uwill catchme with bothpalms to my arse near urface,i willthen sit up on urpalms while u part my cheeks and then.. u know' shesaid.Wedid justthat.withher cheeks parted isucked onher rim & verythick,long feeds strained my throat as theywent down me.i could tell i will b well fed as i had noticed loads of macdonald packs inthe bin

Still in doffice,she lifts her legs unto the desk while still sitting on my chest straddling my face.she peers down tomy face between her full breasts & voluptuous thighs & whispers a command "drink". My lips make soft contact with her pussy and with the gentlest of sucks,i begin to drink her. As i empty her, she says "i trained u well my slave" & in all honesty i say " yes my goddess.

Godesscarol tookme2d officeroom in dhouse2day.Astold iwent&knelt down2feetinfront ofherdesk backingit.isatback onmyheels&leaned wellback2support myself withhands 2dfloor& thenfacedup.shecame wearingdshortest loosedress ever&sat onmy upperchest stradling myface."usaid iwasnt heavy lastime,good,as ispendhrs sortingthings out.Withher spellbinding arse onmy chest&faceframed byher juicythighs ipeeked up@her luvlyface,d priceless feelingofpain-pleasure-sufferi­ng washes overme as isay'yes goddesscarol'