#screaming wailing incoherent | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vanillabat99 · 2 years

Text

I just had a really weird dream. I wanna make it very clear that my dreams are extremely vivid, and I often believe them to be reality while I am dreaming.

I was trapped in some fantasy hell maze made up of two sections, mostly indoor and mostly outdoor. The outdoor part was like a big forest but also a university campus, and the indoor part was like a big shopping mall (separate from the "university" building in the outdoor section). I've had "Trapped In A Shopping Mall From Hell" dreams before but this one was so weird?? I'll skip over the relatively normal dream stuff and just tell you the nightmare part, because it would take a lot of explaining for the first bit. CW for mentions of gore.

So, the "Shopping Mall From Hell" turned into some weird miniature-land tunnel themepark, which your goal was to escape. It wasn't scary at first and for awhile the worst part was trying to catch up to someone, but then there was a split path in the tunnel rooms. One of the tunnel sections featured a death laser (which is kinda cringe but I didn't wanna die so I avoided it) but the other tunnel featured a gore display, which has probably been burned into my brain forever now. Since this one wasn't immediate death I decided I'd be brave about it and power through, but it just got worse. The next room after was somehow more violently disgusting, and the bodies were screaming and moving. Every room I could see in the distance was just increasingly horrendous. So I turned around and ran out. I had to climb over the previous room display to get out and it turns out it wasn't really a display either, and they started screaming as I furthered their wounds in my desperation to escape. The rest of it wasn't so bad in comparison and it did turn out somewhat okay, but I think that's really gonna exist in my head forever now.

#they looked like old ai generated images of people kinds of messed up but with heavy gore on top #i could hear their bones cracking as i climbed over them 😭😭😭#they werent like shouting screaming it was like. hissing and moaning and wailing. which id say is worse than just yelling.#but like the first gore room was just like. it was shocking. but was kinda just a ball of body parts. but the 2nd room. god.#the second room smelled bad. there were flies. it was a very very very violent scene. like you cant even show that in horror movies bad.#and when i turned back the more fully formed bodies turned to look at me as they screamed. i think they mightve tried to grab me.#it was bad. it was really bad. like. i cant describe how grotesque this was.#ive had gore dreams before but this was a bad one 😭#might be up there with the meat dream in terms of mentally scarring.#im okay for now and but idk if im gonna be going back to sleep.#ive been awake for like 15mins and most of it has been spent writing this so. this is fresh. eurgh.#i tried to proofread the post but its 5am and im tired im sorry if theres errors or if its incoherent #thanks for reading though #means a lot #batty blogging #text

2 notes · View notes

kagxme · 11 months

Text

i need to be shot in the streets

#im okay im fine i promise i also just #[loud incoherent screaming and wailing]

1 note · View note

literaryvein-reblogs · 2 months

Note

Do you have any good words to use instead of exclaim?

Thank you, I love this blog so much!

So glad to hear this. Thank you! <3 I love making these writing references as well.

Exclaim - to cry out, speak, or utter in a strong or sudden burst of emotion

Assert - to state or declare positively and often forcefully or aggressively

Aver - to allege or assert in pleading

Babble - to talk enthusiastically or excessively

Bellow - to make the loud deep hollow sound

Bewail - to express deep sorrow for usually by wailing and lamentation

Blabber - to talk foolishly or excessively

Blat - to declare positively; to utter loudly or foolishly

Blunder - to utter stupidly, confusedly, or thoughtlessly

Blurt (out) - to utter abruptly and impulsively

Bray - to utter or play loudly or harshly

Burst out - to say (something) suddenly

Caterwaul - to make a harsh cry

Chirp - to utter (something) with a cheerful liveliness; to make sharply critical, complaining, or taunting remarks

Clamor - to utter or proclaim insistently and noisily

Crow - to utter a sound expressive of pleasure

Gab - to talk in a rapid or thoughtless manner

Gabble - to say with incoherent rapidity

Gush - to make an effusive display of affection or enthusiasm

Hoot - to shout or laugh usually derisively

Howl - to cry out loudly and without restraint under strong impulse (such as pain, grief, or amusement)

Inveigh - to protest or complain bitterly or vehemently

Orate - to speak in an elevated and often pompous manner

Perorate - to deliver a long or grandiloquent oration

Repine - to feel or express dejection or discontent

Roar - to utter or emit a full loud prolonged sound

Screech - a high shrill piercing cry usually expressing pain or terror

Shout - to utter a sudden loud cry

Shriek - to utter a sharp shrill sound

Shrill - to utter or emit an acute piercing sound

Snarl - to give vent to anger in surly language

Spout - to speak or utter readily, volubly, and at length

Squall - to utter in a strident voice

Squawk - to utter a harsh abrupt scream

Squeal - to cause to make a loud shrill noise

Vociferate - to utter or cry out loudly

Wail - to express a prolonged cry or sound expressing grief or pain; loud lamentation

Whine - to utter a high-pitched plaintive or distressed cry

Yammer - to utter repeated cries of distress or sorrow; to utter persistent complaints; to talk persistently or volubly and often loudly

Yawp - (or yaup) to make a raucous noise

Yowl - to utter a loud long cry of grief, pain, or distress

Hope this helps. If it inspires your writing in any way, please tag me, or leave a link in the replies. I would love to read your work!

More: Word Lists

2K notes · View notes

evilgwrl · 12 days

Text

TF 141 x Reader (Apocalypse!AU)

Immune: Eight

WARNING: This is a 18+ Poly!141 series (MDNI)

CW: Riding, unprotected sex, titty sucking, groping, Ghost being a stalker + his perspective

Taglist: @beebeechaos @h3art3at3rr @johannxseb @cndy-l0v3 @nylluns @pomegranategum @tapioca-marzipan

Masterlist

Glass panes fogged over, the abyss surrounding you long forgotten through the rusted panes, your reflection like static as your hips ground down against a plush belly, curls of pubic hair wisping up as they tickled against your pelvis.

Sweat dripped from your pores, leaking down the backs of your thighs, trapping themselves amongst the aperture of your knees. The Scotsman was everywhere, tummy practically bulging with his member as you whined out every time you bounced onto him, cock kissing your bruised cervix as a grunt left his lips.

Soap’s eyes were curled up towards your breasts, occasionally glancing over your fucked-out face as you cooed sweetly into the air. Veined hands ruggedly found your tits, squeezing the flesh in his palms as he lapped in every movement caused by the collision of your pussy sinking down on him.

“F’cken milking me bonnie, keep going jus like that,” He spat into the open air, his pupils blown with lust as he watched you. Your lips tucked in between your teeth, metallic spilling into your mouth as you bit back a squeal, head rolling back desperately as your thrusts grew sloppier.

“Dinnae tell me ye’ getting tired, lass.”

You barked out a, “Shut up,” hand slapping against his chest as you raised your hips once more, the squelch of your wetness filling the blank walls, bouncing from timber to window as you whined, thighs burning. Soap cocked out a laugh, now gripping at your hips, groping the fat as he thrust his hips up, meeting your slowed movements.

His length was fathomlessly stroking your walls, eyes cavernous as he watched your face contort up, squeals singing from your throat as he began to take over, cock ramming inside you with an insatiable vigour as your hands fell beside his head, tits hanging low against his face as he fucked up into you.

Scorched skin found his mouth as he licked against your breast, the saltiness of your sweat spurring him on as he grazed against a nipple, tongue wrapping around it as his hands gripped your waist. As Soap continued, you wailed out an expletive, practically choking on the dust that littered the room.

“That’s it, love, fuck – so fucking tight, ain’ ya? Jesus-“

His mouth was filthy, only pulling away from your chest to spit out praise as your walls milked him. Your neck was littered with sweat, hairs clawing against the skin as you held yourself in place, taking every thrust he gave you. Heavy hands slapped at your ass, keeping it apart as he set his bruising pace, balls crudely grazing against the flesh.

“Fuck – Johnny, too deep – I can’t.”

“Ye can f’cken take it,” he grunted, his pace somehow growing faster as you screamed out obnoxiously, pleasure wracking through you. Your body was on fire, veins gushing with pure arousal as your cunt squelched around him, every hair on your body raised as your skin prickled under his touch.

Your legs were weak, shaking mercilessly as the Sergeant held you in place, orgasm bracing you as your stomach tightened, incoherent babble ludicrously scorching through the air as you gripped onto his shoulder blades, a cocky smile across Soap’s face as he fucked you through an orgasm, pussy milking his member before he stuttered out a deep thrust, holding your thighs as he flipped you over.

You whined at the overstimulation against your g-spot, tears breaking the surface as your legs continued convulsing before he pulled out, hot spurts of ivory ceasing against your plush tummy, pants wracking through the both of you as you collapsed.

Your lashes fluttered around subtle light as you felt Soap moving against you, dampness hitting your stomach before prickly cotton engulfed you.

Arrogant gold hues crept up through the slumber of the night, tenacious stars clawing at the midnight of the sky, the early settlers of birds cawing out to the living dead in a mocking manner before settling in the depth of the trees, out of reach to groping, rotting hands.

Silk weaved between the trees, dew settling between the earth and the branches they clung from before soaking into the dirt, the stench of the morning stalling across the forest. Heavy footsteps thudded against the floor, the indents between large boots stunk of mud and broken sticks as leaden hands grabbed at spider webs, tearing them apart between sudden movements.

A hoarse grumble left the man’s throat as he trenched through the woodlands, the soft bristle of the wind whistling against the thick, black cotton of his mask, eyes salty with sleep. It wasn’t unusual for Ghost to never sleep past sunrise, his body achingly creaky from the distant memories of military life, fists slamming against punching bags whilst others were only just settling down to sleep.

A rugged scar ran across his lip, the faded colour a shimmering pearl under the morning light as he pulled the balaclava down. Even alone, during the apocalypse, the eeriness of vulnerability sank into his stomach as he took in a deep breath before pulling it up again.

Thick fingers gripped around carbon steel, the head of the sniper inches away from the forest floor as the Lieutenant crept through, almost unhidden by the woodland creatures, the occasional squirrel popping its head out before flustering away into its burrow once more.

Thick thighs held their ground, buried in the bushes, the occasional snag of a thorn rustling throughout before the silenced sound of a gun went off, a gentle flurry of birds scattering around before quietude muzzled the wood surrounding him.

He worked best alone and used to never rely on anyone, no matter the stage of his life. The task force became a second home, a cold place that was only warmed by the familiar faces he worked with. His body ached with every movement, the remnants of past wounds only seeming to heighten when he began to forget about them. It was an alarm that gunned through his head, working at the speed of light through his spinal cord to remind him that he would never escape his work.

No matter where, no matter how, it would always stay with him. Sometimes Simon wished for death, the peacefulness of nothing welcoming him like a hot bath, skinning the flesh from his bones in a chamber of perdition.

Blood stained his padded hands, soft speckles of the afterlife draining from the deer’s eyes step by step as he trekked back to the farmhouse. There was a soft patter of rain that littered across the sky, the crops thriving amongst muddy soil, fertilising amongst burrowing grubs and worms.

Your eyes met the door, staring down at his damp figure, the gruelling emphasis of nature splattered among the subtle tears in his clothes and weaves of silken strings displaced on the dark clothing. You peered down at the carcass in his hand, offering him a polite small.

“Thank you,” you murmured, the morning air still shivering across the walls as you adjusted to not making as much noise. After all, you didn’t live alone anymore.

Ghost was unsure of you. He watched you a lot, umber shades shelling over with an unknown feeling. He took in the way your spine creaked through the skin of your back when you bent over or the way your lids would crease over as you laughed. He noticed the way you looked down when you didn’t want to answer a certain question and he could hear from the crack in your voice when you reached your peak, sweaty body writing under anyone, anyone but him, as you clenched around them.

Maybe it was jealousy. Jealous that you found this place, you got to make a life for yourself and earn potential freedom, a rarity that he was unsure he would ever have. Jealous of the fact that he watched you first, eyes glazing over you weeks ago in a town hours away, muscles soaked in salty residue, thighs burnt out from the relentless biking.

Jealous that he didn’t get to sink his teeth into you the night he walked in on you, pussy pathetically gushing around nothing as you attempted to shelter your moans, his cock aching with a demand for release as he stalked back into his room, rutting into Johnny’s mouth.

The deer fell on the kitchen counter, your bodies in close perimeter as he gaped at you. His voice was rugged, holding a girthy tone of citrus to it with every syllable he pronounced.

“You gonna show me how to be a man around here or you just gonna fuck m’ with your eyes?”

457 notes · View notes

hyunsvngs · 11 months

Note

no thoughts, just sex with jisung in the recording booth

pushing him against the wall and sucking him dry before he tries to fuck you against the wall but fails miserably and you end up just fucking on the floor

i personally have thoughts on this

"baby, baby, i gotta- i gotta record this, my baby," jisung's babbling, complaining at the way you've got him pushed against the wall of the studio, but he's still pushing his trousers down. his boxers go with them, sliding down lithe thighs and revealing his thick, hard cock. "i gotta record this, you can't."

he's still stroking his cock in front of your face though, exposing the head beneath his foreskin, and you giggle. he whimpers when you engulf the head of his cock in your mouth, swirling your tongue around like it's a damn lollipop. his hands fly back to the wall, blunt fingernails digging into the paint. satisfied, you reach your hand up to cup his balls, just softly rubbing your thumb over them and he positively wails. your baby's sensitive.

"baby, baby, i really gotta-" jisung cuts himself off with his own moan, loud and keening through the studio. you're glad it's soundproofed. he lifts his hoodie up with his hands, clutching the fabric in his palms so he can see the way you're bobbing your head on his cock ruthlessly. your eyes lock with his, and he realises that he's gonna cum embarrassingly quickly. "'m gonna blow! baby, i'm gonna fuckin' blow, please, please, let me-"

you pull off, using your fist to stroke his now-slick cock. the noises reverberate around the room and he's still whining, teeth gritted, toes curling in his socks and thighs tensing and untensing in front of you. "let you do what, sungie? tell me. tell mommy, yeah?"

you're pretty sure jisung screams in response to you using that title. it's incoherent, high pitched and extremely loud, the noise he makes, but you smile anyway as if you understood. his legs are shaking and so is his bottom lip, a pout present on his face and accompanied by teary, round eyes beneath his floppy hair.

"i gotta fuck you, please! please, please, don't wanna cum in your mouth, not here, wanna- wanna fill you up and watch it drip out, oh my god, please. mommy!"

"c'mere then, baby," you huff as if it's an inconvenience. in reality, you've gotten exactly what you want, and you lay on the floor to wiggle your joggers down your legs. the movement shows him how you arrived sans underwear for him, and he keens. he immediately darts to the floor, head moving to the crook of your neck.

"gotta- gotta, gotta, i gotta, i g'ta, mommy, i'm pushing in, 'kay?" he's drooling already, cockhead barely breaching your entrance, but he always drools when he's desperate like this. you let him push his cock past your folds, thick and drippy beneath his foreskin, and he's immediately rutting into you at an unbelievable pace. "hnnnfgg, oh my god, oh my god."

"that's it, b-baby, my boy, good boy," you coo, stuttering through your own pleasure, and he gasps wetly into your skin. he's so fucking cute. "fuck mommy's pussy just like that, that's it."

#juno’s asks ♡#han jisung drabble #han jisung smut #sweet baby anon

1K notes · View notes

hewwokitti · 5 months

Text

Brat (JJ Maybank x Reader)

It’s not like you mean to be a brat sometimes it just comes out. You know JJ doesn’t like when you’re rude and you’re good- at least getting better- at controlling your mouth but your facial expressions need work. So that's how you found yourself with JJ’s hand firmly on the back of your neck, pushing you into the chateau after sneering at something John B said.

“How many- How many fuckin times do i have to tell ya to fix your damn face huh? I ain’t playin with you today. Get your ass in there”

Yup you’re screwed.

He bullies you inside, smacking the globe of your ass all the while.

“JJ.. I’m sorry, I-“ you’re cut off as he roughly grabs your face, making you squeal.

“Yeah… Yeah you’re boutta be REAL sorry here soon dolly. You know where I want you c’mon.”

And you do, assuming the usual position on the bed, ass up, cheek against the undone bed. He comes up behind you, rough hand pushing your face into the mattress even more. “I keep tellin you kitty to play nice huh? don’t need you bein a bitch to my friends.” JJ emphasizes his words by pushing your face harder, making you cry out.

“Shh shh shhh” he utters condescendingly, while flipping your flimsy skirt up, rubbing the now exposed flesh. “don’t want them to hear how much of a bitch ya are for papa hmm?”

You screw your eyes shut, whimpering softly. He’s right, the pouges are right outside and any loud sounds would be sure to make their way to your shared friend’s ears.

Your thoughts are cut off by the sharp sting of JJ’s hand colliding with your ass, feeling the flesh jiggle at the impact “Answer me” he barks.

“n-no!!” you wail. JJ grins.

He pulls your head up by your hair, leaning over you, lips pressed against your ear. “Now, you’re gonna be good for me hmm? gonna take this dick then, ya gonna walk this ass,” he grabs a handful tightly, making your eyes roll back, “back out there n apologize”

“Y-Yes im sorry!” you say.

“mmm save it, you’re not sorry yet.” JJ says, as he throws your head back down. “Don’t even wanna look at ya right now, got me pissed the fuck off, that what you wanted?” He unbuckles his pants and ties the belt around your neck like a collar, using the long tail like a leash.

He rams into you, making you let out a garbled scream as he pounds into you, teeth bared giving you his all.

“Yeah, this is what you needed. Gotta get the bitch fucked outta ya don’t ya? Fuckin whore.”

The tight belt around your neck makes your head swim, all you can feel is JJ… JJ… JJ.

“Nah nah nah what’s my name kitty?”

You hadn’t realized you’ve been saying that aloud but with the way your blood circulation has been cut off, you can’t realize anything other than his dick deep in your guts. “D-daddy-y-y” you whine out, speech almost incoherent with the rhythm of his bruising thrusts.

“That’s right kitty, I’m your daddy, I’m your fucking daddy… jesus kitty you’re squeezing the life outta me SHIT you’re such a WHORE”

His harsh words make your eyes roll back, the only thing keeping your face up is JJ’s pull of the belt. The moans you let out are staccato, more like high pitched grunts, long nails clawing at the belt but not tapping out yet.

“O-oh man, you gonna cum kitty? don’t lie to me, can fuckin FEEL it” JJ spits out.

You nod vigorously, unable to speak, pushing back against him as best you can.

“FU-Uck yeah kitty cum with me c’mon” he let’s go of the belt, the rush of blood back into your head makes you squirt around him, screaming his name between gasps of breath as you flop onto the bed. JJ growls as he empties inside, thrusts slowing but not stopping making your toes curl with the overstimulation.

“There ya go kitty hmm? don’t that feel better?” He rubs your back as you let out little gasps and twitches.

After a while, once he’s calmed you down enough, he’s helping you clean up, getting you into comfy PJs.

“Okay mama, you good?” he holds your face in his hands, lifting it up casually to inspect your throat, a red rim of his belt mark makes him feel just the tiniest bit bad. He massages it as you croak out ��‘m good now J”

He hums in response, “A’ight then, up you get, there’s some apologies ya gotta make now hmm?”

reblogs n likes apreciated! lemme know ur thoughts are requests

thank you to @rafeysdoll (ofc) @siriusly-star-crossed, @monkichixo for proofreading!

#jj maybank x reader #animatedglittergraphics-n-more #outer banks #jj maybank #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank fic #rudy pankow #rudy pankow x reader #rudy pankow fic #rudy pankow smut #jj maybank smut

737 notes · View notes

nishikiace · 1 year

Text

fucking dazai against a window

ftm! bottom! Dazai Osamu

Warnings: top!male!reader, dom!reader - amab anatomy, ftm!character - afab!anatomy, grinding, wall / window sex, rough sex

[masterlist]

its a rite of passage for anyone who has ever met dazai to want to push him out of a window because he's just so damn annoying.

for you though, it's more fun to push him into a window. a floor-to-ceiling highrise somewhere in the port mafia headquarters, where he's not supposed to be.

your hand is clasped over his neck and holding his head to the glass, biting meanly at his lips and inhaling every moan that rips from his throat as your hips grind between his legs. your other hand travels to his underwear, teasing the rim of the fabric and feeling his stomach shake under each feather-soft touch.

dazai squirms impatiently and wraps his legs around your hips, bucking tightly, rubbing his soaked cunt all over your slacks, gyrating his achy clit against your cold sharp zipper through his panties.

"p-please, touch me already!" he whines, glassy eyes pleading you to spread him out and stuff him full.

your hand dips sharply into his soaked underwear to pinch his clit, earning loud yelp, before you tear the fabric away to reveal his pulsing cunt to the cold air. you grind his bare pussy harder into your belt and zipper as he wails from the cold metal and sharp texture and writhes in painful pleasure.

"don't! nng, please! wait-ah! fuck me!" dazai begs with a wrecked sound.

you grin, "why should i?" gripping his thighs tighter around your waist to rut harder between his shaking legs.

"i need you inside s-so fucking bad," the zipper catches on his clit. "FUCK! p-please!"

he's about to cry, so you should probably take some mercy on him. you unbuckle and unzip with one hand, the other supporting him between the glass and your body. you grip your cock and slide it between his slick pussy lips, skipping his hole with every pass. a loud whine escapes his lips as he bucks forward to try get you to just fuck him already so you stop.

grabbing your cock, you tap the head roughly against his clit, dazai's thighs involuntarily spasming with each tap and high pitched whimpers leaving his shaking lips. just as he's opening his mouth to beg more, you grip onto his hip and push in with one rough stroke. a scream rips from dazai's marked throat, head hitting the glass and back arched into you, eyes rolling and tears finally falling as he gets filled.

"w-wait! too fast! that's too much!" he pleads in between punched out screams as you fuck into him violently, grinding his clit between your bodies. his mouth is wide open from panting and the fullness of your cock in his tight cunt, so you spit in his mouth and watch him drool more. he can't stop himself from incoherently babbling every time he feels the head of your cock bully his cervix, wailing as you speed up and fuck his fragile body into the cold glass with each mean thrust.

suddenly he chokes, screaming breaking in his throat as his back arches painfully and his pussy gushes out clear liquid all over your cock. you can feel his insides trembling and spasming as you push in.

"no more... fuck please no more!" dazai cries, hurtling towards another orgasm that tenses and shakes his weak body. he grabs onto you desperately, curling into your body as he shudders and sobs into your shoulder, convulsions wracking his frame. a few more thrusts and you bury deep inside his beaten cunt before slipping out and dropping your hold on his body.

with nothing to press him to the window, his legs give out and he lands on the floor weakly, pussy spread open to the cold air. his thighs are glistening and his abused cunt is drooling onto the parquet with creamy slick and cum, flushed chest rising and falling rapidly as he fails to return to reality. the window behind him is cracked.

"don't try to sneak in again." you say, fixing your irreparably stained trousers and walking out.

#top male reader #dom reader #male reader #ftm character #bottom character #bsd x reader #anime x reader #x reader #bsd #bungou stray dogs #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #nishikiace s #nishikiace writes

1K notes · View notes

seravphs · 1 year

Text

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — TEEN DAD! GOJO x FEM READER

When Megumi gets injured on a mission, you realize you’re not capable of taking care of a child.

wc — 1.8k

tags — misunderstandings; self doubt; the pitfalls of teenage parenting when you’re all child soldiers; mild angst with a happy ending; happens post sometimes a family is you, teen dad Gojo, and the six year old child he accidentally orphaned, part I of teen dad gojoverse, in which you and Gojo raise Megumi together.

You shove Megumi into his arms, a bundle of bloody black fabric and dead weight. Gojo doesn’t stumble - he never does - but it’s a close call as he instinctively wraps his arms around whatever you’ve pushed onto him.

“Teleport! Teleport!” You’re so frantic you’re incoherent. It takes a full minute, a minute you don’t have, before you realize that you can’t just say things. Gojo, as invincible as he is, can’t read your mind. You have to explain what’s going on, but how can you focus when Megumi is bleeding out? His little face is growing paler and paler by the second.

His hands are so tiny. Why is that the only thing you can focus on? They’re grasping the front of Gojo’s jacket for dear life as he coughs weakly.

“Teleport him back to HQ! Get Shoko!”

You resist the urge to shake Gojo by his lapels, slap some sense into him. It would only hurt Megumi. Why won’t he move?

“I can’t!”

“What do you mean you can’t? Go! He’s losing so much blood, you have to go now!”

You know you’re getting hysterical, but Megumi is dying right in front of you.

“I can’t teleport! There are conditions-“

“He’s going to die!”

“Stop- I need to think!”

In the back of your head, you can hear Shoko telling you in that cool and detached tone of hers that you’re hyperventilating.

Look, she says, you see that? You’re breathing too quickly. You feel lightheaded, right?

Gojo spreads his jacket out on the ground of the forest. “Help me get him ready. I’m going to sew up the cut.”

“Let me-“

“I’ll do it. I’ve done Getou’s before. You just focus on keeping him breathing.”

You can do that.

Hunched over Megumi’s body, Gojo gets to work. He looks so frail, spread on the grass with only Gojo’s jacket beneath him. His eyes are normally dark, but they’re blacker with pain, his pupils swallowing up his irises.

The first puncture of the needle makes him wail before he slaps his hand over his mouth. You peel it back and make vaguely soothing noises, trying to be comforting.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” you murmur, letting him rest his head in your lap.

“You can scream, Megumi. I know it hurts. Oh, honey, I know. I know.” He’s making this face that agonizes you. His nose is all scrunched up as he clenches his jaw. He’s the type of kid that would rather chew up his suffering and swallow it back down then let anyone see it.

This happened on your watch.

Sick self hatred rises in your throat.

Gojo would’ve never let anything happen to Megumi.

He whimpers quietly and you flinch. Without even thinking of it, you reach for his hand. You force yourself not to tremble. You’re an adult. It’s your responsibility not to scare him like that.

His eyes are closed as Gojo grimly works the needle through, but there’s a jump in his frantic heartbeat, as tiny as a rabbit’s. You can detect it through the pulsing vein in his wrist, funneling blood to the injury only to waste it on air.

He’s such a brave kid - your brave little boy. You smooth his sticky wet hair back from his face, damp with sweat. He moans in pain and twists away. Your heart crumples.

It takes so much for him to be vocal about anything that hurts him. How much pain must he be in?

“Gojo,” you say.

“I’m trying!”

You know. Going any faster is likely to have dangerous consequences. This is the only way. How cruel. You have to hurt him to help him, and isn’t that just the story of your parenthood?

You curl around him, protective as if your body can shield him from his own body working against itself. The more blood he loses, the harder his body fights to keep him alive.

It’s an infinitely long minute before Gojo proclaims the grim deed finished. Megumi had passed out long beforehand, his death grip on your fingers slackening as the pain pushed him into nothingness.

He wakes up on the long drive back to campus. Ijichi has never bent so many speeding limits in his life. Normally a careful driver, he shoots furtive looks at the kid staining his back seats red. You can feel his judgment of what kind of parent you are settling over you.

Shoko must be thinking the same thing as she patches Megumi up in your kitchen. Her reverse cursed technique seals the cut up in seconds flat, though a scar remains, puckering the flesh of his forearm.

“Just like Utahime,” Gojo tells him, pinching his cheek. “You didn’t cry either, so you’re better than her.”

“Don’t talk about your seniors like that,” you say absentmindedly, though your mind could not be further from disciplining Gojo for his poor behavior.

You can’t send Megumi to the Zenins. You know what they’d do to a sweet kid like him. They’d turn him into a monster like his father. You shudder, thinking of the creature from your nightmares who had stolen the life of a sixteen year old girl, and nearly taken Gojo with him. You could never let them do that to Megumi. They probably wouldn’t take care of Tsumiki either, unless to hold her over his head. But just because they aren’t fit caretakers doesn’t mean you are.

“Hey.”

Gojo’s been trying to get your attention for who knows how long. When he sees that he finally has it, he sends Megumi off to bed and jerks his thumb at the door. Wordlessly, you follow him to the porch. It’s dimly lit from a singular overhead bulb without a covering. The two of you stand in a circle of light, the night outside pressing in against the walls of your home.

“What is it?” He says impatiently. “I fixed everything, didn’t I? Why are you still upset?”

“It’s not you,” you say. It’s so cliche, but what else is there to say? “It’s my fault.”

“Don’t,” he says softly.

You pull your hand back when he tries to take it. There’s a perverse sense of satisfaction in denying both of you what you want. You don’t deserve this.

He’s silent for a long time. You let the silence stew, determined to outlast him. Quickly, it becomes clear who has the upper hand. You shift from side to side, nervous and tense, while he just waits with his hands shoved in his pockets. When you finally look over, he’s wearing his sunglasses again. His hair glows under the porch light, attracting moths. “Finally felt like playing nice?”

He’s attractive when he’s mean. You hate that about him, the way the cruel twist of his mouth ties knots into your stomach. It would all be easier if you could hate him, but everything he does only makes you love him more.

What a twisted little family you’ve built for yourself.

He sighs. “Stop that. Don’t-“ he waves his hand in your general direction in frustration. “You always do that. It’s not your fault.”

“He needs a real parent, Gojo. I couldn’t protect him.”

“I was there too,” he says. “You don’t see me agonizing over my mistakes. It happens.”

What mistake, you think bitterly. Gojo’s only fault is trusting you with Megumi. He’s the strongest. If it was him, nothing would’ve happened.

“It wasn’t your mistake. It was mine. If I hadn’t been there, everything would have been fine.”

“Again?” Gojo says quietly.

It’s a forceful reminder of how much you sound like Getou right now. He never recovered from what that monster - Megumi’s father - did to him. Even now, your class lives with the scars of that day. Gojo’s face is wistful for a brief moment, deluged by memories. Then it’s gone, wiped from his expression like it had never been there.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you say, wondering if it’s too late to take it back.

Gojo never falters. He’s unreasonable and childish, but he’s as solid as stone. You’ve watched him shoulder every single burden he’s ever been asked to carry since he was a child, and now he’s taken on one more. You promised Gojo that you would watch his back, regardless of whether he needed you or not. The words you spoke in a fit of anger and self pity bring you regret now. Weakness isn’t just failing to shield Megumi from all the dangers of sorcery that you wish you and Gojo had been protected from. Weakness is running away when it gets hard.

Megumi’s your baby.

You’re not going to give him up.

A step forward has you pressing into Gojo’s space. He doesn’t yield, watching you with those ancient eyes.

“I know it’ll only get harder, but it has to be us, right? Who else will keep him safe from the Zenins? I won’t leave, Gojo. I promise.”

His relieved expression contrasts with his smug words. There’s a crooked smile on his face when he says, “I knew you wouldn’t just abandon us. You think Megumi wants to stay with me? You’re the one keeping him here.”

“I get it,” you smack his arm. “No need for flattery. I’m with you until the end.”

“I’m not kidding,” he protests. “There’s no universe in which Megumi likes me more than you.”

How can you stay upset when he looks so proud of himself for finally figuring out the right thing to say to get you to stay?

“He doesn’t,” you insist.

Gojo rolls his eyes. “Don’t lie to me. Here, I’ll prove it.”

It’s not uncommon for Gojo to put Megumi to bed. In fact, it’s a chore he fights you for. It’s probably one of his favorite parts of having Megumi around. He likes telling stories, and surprisingly enough, he’s good at it. He gives each character its own voice. More often than not, he ends up as invested in the bedtime story as Megumi is. Tonight, when he closes the book, he doesn’t leave. The soft light of the lamp on the bedside table shines through a crack in the door as Gojo and Megumi talk in hushed whispers.

“I want my mom,” he says quietly.

You lean against the door, pressing your head to the wood to try to keep yourself from falling to the ground. You want to try. You want to be there for him. But Megumi needs his mother, not some teenager who can’t even take control of her own life, much less a child’s. You’re all he has, though, and you have to make it work. You wish Mrs. Fushiguro was still alive, even if that means you would’ve never gotten to meet him.

“Then ask her to come in,” Gojo says.

Megumi makes a startled noise. You can almost see him burrowing into his blankets.

“Go on,” Gojo coaxes. “Oh, come on. Don’t be shy now. You really won’t? Fine.”

He calls to you. “Come in, sweetheart. Don’t keep us waiting.”

The first thing you see when you open the door is Megumi’s head buried beneath the covers. Gojo’s trying to peel the sheets back.

“What are you hiding for? I brought you your mom! You should be thanking me!”

“I hate you!”

“I told you,” Gojo says. “He loves you more than me.”

#sera writes #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojou satoru x reader #gojou x reader #gojou fluff

3K notes · View notes