#that probably came out more unhinged that it should

[siddyyyyyyyy]

Unhinged two

Jason Todd x Reader

MDNI

(part one)

wc: 1.2 K summary: your roommate finds your messages you send your friend about him. warnings: suggestive content, no y/n used a/n: since some of you wanted a part two of this, I gladly made one. (this came out a little rushed as well, not proofread! sorry!!) Enjoy!!

The moment he left the room, you grabbed your phone and made sure to never open that chat again. You still feel borderline embarrassed and ashamed, realising how weird it is.

Sighing out, you calm yourself down and sip on your tea, hands trembling from your racing heart. After another exhale, you start to think of what to do.

You need to apologise. That‘s the least you could do with a situation like this, after… you can‘t even think about it!

From the silence that lingers around the whole apartment, it‘s clear that Jason is probably expiriencing a mental breakdown too. Now that you think about it, you can‘t really imagine how he feels like after finding out about your dirty thoughts about him.

You don‘t even finish your tea before you sprint off the living room, throwing over your coat and storm outside to get him a proper apology.

Meanwhile, Jason is concerned. He started to look for his therapist‘s number on his phone, but hesitated actually clicking on it. What, should he say that he read through his roommate‘s messages and now wants to kill himself because of the pure filth that was written about him?

No, surely no one will believe him, or at least make fun of him if they believe him.

The safest option would be to keep it for himself, or tell Dick. Yeah, the safest option would be to keep it to himself.

Outisde of his room, he hears the front door click open again, laying his phone down as he contemplates wether to go out or not. His thoughts get interrupted once he hears soft knocks against it.

»Yeah?« Shit, he should‘ve said he is busy.

»Can I come in? I, um… I need to apologise.«

A hint of shame comes through your tone, head hanging low behind the door. There‘s clearly nothing more pathetic than this situation. The silence that follows after only makes your nerves run higher, making your shift on your feet.

»‘Kay.«

Jason is great at pretending to be non-chalant. But it‘s an answer, at least.

So you walk in. And stop in the doorframe, boquet of flowers in hand, his favourite order at the local fast food restaurant in the other. A pathetic expression on your face. He has to stop himself from reacting surprised and both pleased at the action, remembering what happened just a few moments ago.

»So… about those messages. I won‘t sugarcoat it, I did send them, there‘s no excuse I can use. But I won‘t do that again and I don‘t actually think of you in that way. I just… had to describe to my friend how you look like.«

You shrug at the end, placing the smaller paperbag onto his nightstand and hold the boquet in both of your hands for now. It‘s difficult, embarrassing and devistating, saying something in hopes that he will forgive you and let you stay in the shared apartment.

Truth be told, Jason couldn‘t feel more touched by this, trying so hard to keep his composure. He fails either way, the corners of his mouth curling up ever so faintly as he shakes his head.

»You didn‘t need to bring me flowers for that, but… thanks? And, I won‘t look into your phone again. Ever.«

That‘s a relief, handing over the boquet of flowers anyway. He takes them, finally smiling down at them. That‘s not how he expected to receive flowers, he never thought he would get them at some point in his life anyway.

»There‘s also you favourite order, I‘ll leave for now, just… uh— don‘t kick me out.«

Now he has to chuckle, putting the flowers away before he takes a look into the bag of food.

»Oh, I won‘t. It would be boring without you, no?«

He muses as he glances back up to you, an amused and teasing glint in his eye. Of course… he will never let you live that down.

From then on, every time you were slightly annoyed over something he did, Jason simply pulled out the ‚Remember how you talked about me to your friend?‘-card and instantly makes you shut up. But sometimes, you ignore that and go on about the rant you were currently holding.

»No, Jason, I don‘t care, and this happened two months ago! You should be able to clean at least the counter after cooking or baking something.«

You track back to the current argument, waving frustrated to the countertop that has traces from flour and butter.

Instead of getting hissy too, he simply tilts his hxcead, boxing you up against said counter.

»Say again?«

You go silent, staring up at him with big, shocked eyes, standing there at a loss of words.

In short, his ego grew a lot bigger after the initial shock wore off. He started to use such tactics in harmless arguments, before he just used them randomly to tease you. And lucky for him, it worked every damn time. He is sure you already texted every single encounter like this to your dear friend – and he is dying to know if his theory is true – but he won‘t check your phone again, simply too scared at the same time.

On the other hand, you are secretly enjoying it. No, loving it. What do you mean your hot roommate flirts with you randomly for no reason? You would never trade that for anything else.

The same thing happens on a casual saturday, leaning over the kitchen counter as you scroll through some new recipes on your phone. Jason walks in through the front door, ever so silent that you don‘t notice him coming in, before you hear his soft voice mumble near your ear.

»Watcha cooking?« His hand rests on the counter by your side, dangerously close for your own comfort. But you wont back away or say anything against it, answering him back instead.

»Nothing yet. Looking through stuff.«

He hums in acknowledgement, resting his chin on your shoulder while he watches your phone too.

»Wanna cook something together, then? I brought some groceries.« His hand brushes against your side as he leans away, starting to sort through the bag and put the stuff away that he bought.

After an easy agreement, you both settle on making something simple for dinner, not wanting to waste your energy on something new.

Cooking with him would be relaxing, if his hand wouldn‘t linger around your back or waist every minute. You grew used to it after some time, but it still never fails to make you slightly distracted on your current task.

In general, you noticed that Jason became way more touchy with you after the incident, as well as teasing. You try not mentioning it and simply never talk about it in hopes this will never end, but he secretly wishes you would.

He made a single masterplan in his mind on ultimately asking you out once you start to mention his antics, but there‘s no luck so far. Okay, guitly as charged, he did talk about that with his brother Dick. He follows his advice half-heartedly, hoping for some miracle to happen at the same time until you notice his signs.

←MASTERLIST

[ghostflowerhotpotch]

To be honest I am fine with him being bad at the theory because is really bullshit.

Hi, Spanish is my first language and I learned back home, being in a school back home until I move when I was an older teen.

But here is a funny story, when I moved to Canada I only did the last two years of high school, and in my last year I didn't have enough credits in almost all of the classes for my grade, so my own ESL teacher suggested me getting Spanish because that was a class I would be able to attend regardless of credits. I ended up doing it because of a lack of options.

I didn't get a 100%, or even that close, why? The theory part continued tripping me over. Ask me the difference between pretérito perfecto and pretérito imperfecto with a gun pointing at my head and I will be dead.

Want to know the difference? Is basically verbs in the present tense and past tense, and I never remembered because rather than just saying that, they put names that weren't indicative of what they do (At least not for anyone speaking colloquially at this time, maybe this made sense a few centuries ago.) You technically can just ask someone to do X verb in present/future/past, but there are formal names that we were taught both in Spanish classes here in Canada and the ones we had back home.

And no one ever remembers.

No seriously, once my family started making fun of me for not having a 100% at the end, I ask them how many of them remembered these details, like participios (aka the -ing at the end of a verb, because spanish works differently we have more than that,) and other stuff, and then everyone shut up. My own mother, who was a teacher for over 30 years; told me she also couldn't recall most of these details, and she taught classes from kindergarten to high school.

Again, I am only one latine person, and we have a big community, but if I am honest I think if I ask at random about any of these details to any of my friends who speak Spanish as a first language, they wouldn't remember.

The point with all of this is that you can functionally speak Spanish perfectly, even having good grammatical skills, use of the language, and so forth, and still be tripped by the theory because of technicalities.

So it would make perfect sense for Miles to go to a test, have the test ask to separate the participios regulares e irregulares, and have him flunking the test because the question was using such obtuse terminology his mom may not even know what the question is about, and I say this because neither of my parents could answer this question without some explaining and juggling their memory.

If I am honest, the difference in how they teach Spanish in English-speaking countries vs the Spanish I learned back home wasn't really that different? Yeah, there was some different way to conjugate things and some words, but no teacher in their right mind would disqualify Miles' way of speaking Spanish unless they were asking for VERY specific things.

You can even have him trip for things that actually defy the grammar because those words are exceptions and the only way to know is remembering them.

For example, in Spanish rather than having "The" we have "El" and "La", these are normally assigned by what the word ends up in.

La Casa.

El Coche.

(There is obviously more to this but this is the idea.)

Simple enough, right? What would you use for the word "Dentista"? If you said La, that's wrong! It's actually "EL Dentista."

How do you know that? Well you memorize it, there is literally no other way.

Hope this doesn't come as a rant or anything, I understand that Miles speaking Spanish (which while the pronunciation is accurately a bit wonky, is pretty good btw,) is really important not just for the fans, but to remember that he keeps his roots dear to his heart,

This was really just me wanting to talk about how honestly the language can be pretty dumb anyways and if people whose first language is Spanish are forgetting this crap I don't want to imagine someone who speaks it as a second language and also missed 6 classes.

So believe me, is entirely possible to speak this language perfectly and still do the classes poorly regardless.

I prefer the theory that Miles has a B in Spanish because the Spanish they teach in schools is different than the Spanish he speaks at home more than the theory that he’s just bad at Spanish

Also, I’m getting tired of how people keep portraying Miles as more and more terrible at Spanish, like even if he’s not better at home, a B is still good!!

I know it’s mostly just jokes, but I swear it’s gonna cause a ton of people to just believe that Miles is just horrible at Spanish and refuse to give up that characterization, we’re gonna be watching in real time as a fanon version of a character gets popular and unavoidable

[bombusbombus]

How long can I procrastinate learning how to shave before I look like shit... 🤔

[thethingything]

for the last couple of days our brain has kind of felt the way it does when we've not had any caffeine and our ADHD gets really bad and we start getting distracted all the time and having racing thoughts and being generally unhinged, except we've been drinking energy drinks so I know it isn't that.

our psychosis definitely started flaring up as well because we've had the usual stress induced hallucinations we get (usually just spiders and little orbs of light. it's whatever) but also really intense paranoia over how people perceive us, but it's combined with the racing thoughts and we keep just rambling and jumping from one thing to another while freaking out about doing exactly that.

so yeah anyway if I talk to anyone and it looks like I'm typing stuff really frantically or it doesn't make sense properly, that's probably why. I just felt like this was worth clarifying in case anyone noticed and wondered what the hell was going on

[mewtwoandme]

I was hoping this would all blow over, but since it's continuing to happen, now with people attacking other artists of the commewnity. I'm putting out my two fucking cents! Cause this whole art/character theft and pointing fingers, who stole what from who bullshit it driving me up the fucking wall!!

Long story short, it started with me and one other blog whose name I won't mention publicly. Despite the horrible light they tried to paint me in, I don't want anyone going to this person and ganging up on them. This person had some serious bitterness towards more "popular" artists and claimed that I've made characters similar to theirs and once used a pose they apparently used before (which was a very common pose, considering it was a reference from the game version of mega Y). Since then, they had desperately tried to conjure up evidence, narrowing down to the most miniscule detail how I've been stealing from them when I hadn't even known their blog existed until I was forcefully thrown into that unnecessary drama with the unhinged call-out posts they've made. With this being said, I'd like to point out that they never came to me or addressed this concern with me in the first place. They had every opportunity to privately DM me if they had suspected I was "stealing," but no, simply because they already made up their mind that I was a thief, that was a good enough reason to lack common fucking sense and decency, making what should have been a private issue public, going on to villainize and dehumanize me. And apparently, it hasn't stopped with me either, cause recently I've been seeing other artists in the community having to deal with this where people are being white knights on high horses, pointing fingers on how one artist's mewtwo looks "the same" if not "totally identical" as another artist's mewtwo. I refuse to believe it's a coincidence. But what makes me disgusted is that since TC's post, apparently it's had the opposite effect on some people and they're hopping on this blame bandwagon like it's some damn media trend!!!

This is NOT okay! Nothing about this kind of behavior is funny! It's upsetting to all of us. We dont need you causing problems where there isn't any, thinking you're doing us a favor! The majority of us are adults for gods sake! We are old enough where we don't need other people coming to us being tattle tails saying this person did this and that. That's what little children do! If you suspect any form of theft, I think I speak for ALL creators in this commewnity that we'd prefer you DM us privately saying something like "Hey, I think this person is copying you, might wanna look into it." And if possible, provide a link to the art in question, for which we would kindly thank you for making us aware and we'll handle it ourselves from there. Just a brief, yet SIMPLE interaction...that's all we ask!!! Don't even come at me with "Well, it's scary attempting to talk to an artist that's well known." Or dare I say ~pOpUlAr~ If you claim that taking the first step to send me a quick DM makes you nervous, yet you have no problem making public call outs in posts or asks, belittling and degrading what could actually be innocent artists doing nothing wrong, literally leaving yourself open to all kinds of comments and opinions from all kinds of people....I'm sorry but your anxiety isn't as bad as you say it is then, if being rude and ignorant in a public post/ask is easier for you. If you come to us, shaming someone else who 9/10 probably isn't doing anything wrong, thinking you'll be in our good graces for doing so, sorry, you're not going to be told, "Good job!" with a pat on the back and given a lollipop! You're just being an asshole.

Quick reality check for everyone who's made it this far before I end this train wreck of a rant:

People can have similar ideas that coincide with one another! There's only so much you can do when a whole community is focused around drawing the same character! We mainly draw mewtwos and mews, you're bound to find a plethora of similar colors, patterns, and designs because of it! Creativity only goes so far when trying to stay true to a character and not stray too far. It's not a crime to take inspiration from other artists' characters, we actually encourage this! It makes us feel good that you liked something we've done and you want to incorporate it into your own designs! It makes us happy that we inspired you! The line is crossed when someone does a literal copy/paste of a character down to the exact detail, and they call it their own original creation. That my friends is what stealing actually is!

[justagalwhowrites]

Bane of My Existence - A QZ Joel Miller One Shot

You and Joel Miller have never gotten along, always at odds whether working together or avoiding each other. But when a smuggling job goes bad, you discover that there might be more to his harsh demeanor than meets the eye.

Pairing: QZ Smuggler!Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Enemies to lovers; Joel is bad with emotions; hurt/comfort; canon typical violence; injury that's probably poorly handled because I don't medicine; vague threat of SA (not by Joel, not made to reader); unprotected vaginal sex. Joel carries reader but look... My Joels are all 6'5" and strong as hell, especially in life threatening situations. Man can carry anybody. I'm in love with him because he's a big strong man. No description of reader.

Length: 8.9k (sorry)

A/N: A lil one shot gift for my beautiful bestie @dundienominee :)

Full Masterlist | AO3

“Hell no.” 

Of course Joel Miller said hell no to working with you. Of course he did. 

You weren’t surprised at Joel’s reaction when his smuggling partner, Tess, brought you to their safe house in the QZ. He’d never been the president of your fan club. 

“Joel,” she sighed. 

“Fuck no,” he said. “Not bringin’ her anywhere, she’s a goddamn liability.” 

“Joel,” she said again, sterner this time. 

You, however, just smirked, watching him pace and glare at you, his face getting flushed as he did. 

“She takes stupid fuckin’ risks,” Joel said. “She’s cocky, she’s…”

“Saved your ass from infected?” You asked, raising your eyebrows. 

You knew you were adding fuel to the fire. Tess glared at you for it. Your smirk grew. 

“Wouldn’t have been near the fuckin’ infected if it weren’t for you,” he snapped. “Not. Goin. With. Her.” 

“Well, you don’t have a choice,” Tess said, standing up a little straighter and crossing her arms, staring her partner down. “She’s the one with the contact, they agreed to two people meeting them and she has to be one of them…” 

“How the hell’d you make a contact?” Joel turned his full attention to you, his eyes molten hot and angry. “Anyone you touch ends up fuckin’ dead…” 

“Oh fuck off,” you snapped before you regained your composure. ���Don’t get pissy with me because big bad Joel Miller isn’t the top of the smuggling heap in the QZ…” 

“I ain’t pissy!” 

“…Not the top of the heap in anything at all, really…” 

“That’s it!” Joel stalked over, looking like he wanted to slug you. Instead, he just put his finger in your face, a slightly unhinged look in his eyes. “You think I’m doin’ a goddamn thing with you…” 

“You don’t have a choice, Texas,” Tess came and stood beside you, her arms crossed as she looked to Joel. “You burned the bridge we had with the FEDRA officer I need to buy off to get our next round of pills inside, I can’t go on this run because I have to deal with the mess you made when you couldn’t keep your shit together. We want to actually be set before shit gets snowed in for winter? We need her connection. So. You’re going, you’re leaving tonight, and you’re not going to fuck this up. Got it?” 

His jaw tightened. 

“Got it.” 

“Good,” she looked to you. “Your contact knows you’re coming?” 

“They do,” you said, serious now and completely ignoring the wall of muscle who was still standing uncomfortably close to you. “The walk back is going to fucking suck but it should be worth it. Good with the split?” 

“Good might be a strong word for 60/40,” Tess said, shaking her head a little but grinning all the same. “But I’ll take it.” She looked between you and Joel. “Trusting you two to not kill each other out there. Don’t make me regret it. See you in a few days.” 

She left the two of you there in the threadbare apartment without another word, Joel’s glare practically drilling a hole into your skull. 

“Together again, eh Miller?” You smirked at him. 

He didn’t respond. He just went and sat heavily on the worn couch before lying down and closing his eyes. 

“What, didn’t get enough sleep?” You asked, going and standing over him. 

“Slept fine,” he said, eyes still closed. “Just would rather spend the few hours we have before we leave the QZ not listenin’ to you.” 

You rolled your eyes but took a moment to look at Joel when he wasn’t glaring at you. 

It was a rare occurrence, seeing him when he wasn’t scowling and pissed. He let himself relax down into the cushions and the lines in his face eased. As much as you hated to admit it - and you did hate it - Joel was beautiful. Frustratingly so. What’s worse, he’d somehow gotten better looking in the years you’d known him. Jerk.

You’d first met him before you came to the QZ, almost 10 years ago now. You were holed up in your own little corner of Boston, doing your best to stay out of the way of FEDRA, infected and raiders alike. 

It was basically a full-time job, even more so since you’d become the last person standing. A job that you failed at the day you met Joel Miller. 

And, as much as he liked to blame you for it, he was the one who showed up in your corner of town. You’d been napping through the worst of the afternoon heat in mid-July when you heard a clatter: someone tripped one of your alarms. 

“Fuckin’…” 

He swore loud enough that you heard him from your perch and you watched him shake glass out of the wrinkles of his shirt. 

“Someone’s here,” the second man said, much quieter. “That ain’t no accident…” 

The two men moved slowly, cautiously, their rifles raised as they searched for whoever it was who set that trap. When you thought they were far enough away, you started to move, slowly and quietly, going to sneak up on them and take them out before they could do the same to you. 

But as you drew close, you heard it. The clicking. 

You gasped, close enough to the strange men that they heard it and close enough to the clickers that they did, too. 

“Move!” The larger man snapped out of his moment of shock first, shooting forward and grabbing you and throwing you to the side before shooting at the incoming infected. You scrambled to get back up, fumbling to get the knife you’d been readying to thrust into that man’s back. 

It turned out, you didn’t need it. At least, not for the infected. The two men made quick work of the clickers and turned to you, your knife raised and ready to take at least one of them down with you. 

“The fuck are you doin’ out here?” The larger man said instead. 

“The fuck do you think?” You snapped. “Go on, do it! Kill me, take my shit, whatever it is you’re going to do…” 

“Don’t much like killing women,” he said, looking to the other man, their guns still in hand but pointed to the ground. They looked alike, these two. Like they could be related. 

“What, because I’m a woman you think I’m not a threat?” You asked, brows raised before realizing that you probably shouldn’t be egging on the large, armed men in front of you. 

“Not really, princess,” the younger man said, voice teasing, and you considered throwing your knife at him. 

“Should count yourself lucky that we don’t,” the older man said. “Why don’t you come with us, out pickin’ up just a few things and then headin’ back to the QZ…” 

“Right,” you scoffed. “Because I really wanna live under fucking FEDRA.” 

“Guessing you want to live,” he said. “Got news for you, princess. Even we’re steerin’ clear of this area of Boston after this. Lot more infected than we bargained for. Your little hideout ain’t gonna be safe much longer. Assuming you want to keep on living, QZ’s your best bet.” 

“And you’re just, what, inviting me along out of the goodness of your heart?” You scoffed. “Please.” 

“Don’t much like killing women and don’t much like leaving people to die, either,” the other man said. “Seem capable enough. Come with us, at least out of this part of the city. Would rather not have you added to the infected population.” 

You ground your teeth for a moment, considering. They could easily over power you. You were out numbered, out gunned and they were both large and strong. 

But… you had been noticing more and more infected lately. You hadn’t left your hideout in almost two weeks and you were low on supplies. Part of the reason you hadn’t dared venture out in so long was the seemingly constant press of infected you could see from the best vantage points in your building. You’d been starting to worry that you wouldn’t have a good opportunity to leave for supplies again. And, if you did, you were starting to worry your home would be overrun when you got back. 

These two were the closest thing you had to a safe option out. 

So, you took it. The pair introduced themselves and you were right, they were related. Joel and Tommy Miller, smugglers who lived inside the Boston QZ. They were strong, smart, capable. Handsome, too, not that it really mattered. What mattered much more was your ability to keep each other alive. 

And, it turned out, you were useful to them. Enough that they wanted you around as help for other runs outside the QZ. It made sense, you knew certain corners of the QZ better than anyone else seemed to. It had been your territory - at least, in some way - for a long time. 

Then, it happened. You’d taken to calling it ‘the incident’ for lack of any better word. You were out on a smuggling run with Joel and another man, Harvey. In spite of the fact that you’d been working together for years, Joel had never really warmed up to you. He tolerated you at best and it seemed like growling was his preferred form of communication where you were involved but you always made it back to the QZ in one piece when you went out together. You watched each other’s backs - you were proud that your kill count was higher than his and that you were almost positive he’d be dead by now if it weren’t for you. 

The three of you were at the edge of the city, heading to rendezvous with someone from a small settlement in New York State when you heard it, the first, distinctive shriek of infected. 

Suddenly, there were dozens of them, maybe more than 100, far more than you were capable of handling even if you had unlimited ammunition. 

And, like a fool, you froze. 

You’d scouted ahead and saw no signs of them, no indication of anything more than one or two strays that had been ambling around. You had no idea where they’d come from or how they’d come to be here but that didn’t matter. They were here, they were bearing down on you and you couldn’t seem to make your body move, the shock of the sight making you completely shut down. 

It was Joel who saved you. 

“Move!” He’d grabbed you by the collar of your shirt and thrown you behind him as he fired at the infected, pressing back as quickly as he could while laying down cover fire. Harvey joined him, their guns up and blazing as you tried to force your body to listen to you. “Fucking run!” 

Your limbs decided to obey then and you moved as quickly as you could, turning and firing behind you when it felt like you had a moment to spare. 

But you misjudged that moment once. Just once, but that’s all it took. Infected were closer behind you than you realized and Joel dove in between you and the reaching, groping thing. 

“Joel!” You shrieked, desperately trying to get a shot off that wouldn’t hit Joel as he strained to hold back the runner who was snarling near his throat. You were about to shoot when Harvey tackled the creature, knocking it off of Joel but into the mass of infected that was closing in quickly. 

They swarmed him and he screamed and you took aim as Joel scrambled to his feet. He shoved you on before you could fire and you stretched to shoot around him but he nearly threw you away from the swarming monsters and your screaming companion. 

“He’s gone!” Joel yelled as you stared at him, aghast. “He’s gone, we have to fucking move, now go!” 

You kept turning, looking back toward the sound of the snarling and the screams. 

“We have to go back!” you said. “We can’t just leave him like that, we have to at least shoot him we can’t just leave him, we…” 

“You should’ve thought of that before you fucked up!” He kept pushing you forward, toward the QZ. “No point in gettin’ us killed to save a man who’s already dead.” 

Joel had gone from seemingly finding you to be a nuisance to hating you then. He refused to even be in the same room as you let alone leave the QZ with you again. 

It took you a long time, after that split, to figure out how to survive. You’d become dependent on the cards you got from smuggling to get by but you couldn’t leave the QZ on your own and expect to make it back in one piece, not with how things had devolved with raiders and infected in recent years. You found a small group who was going out from time to time - which is how you met Tess - and you cobbled together a living. 

You never worked with Joel again. 

At least, not until now. 

You sighed and perched in the window, watching the QZ go by and thinking of the best way out of the city once the sun went down. You tried not to think about the likelihood that Joel would kill you while you were outside. 

It was a long walk ahead of the both of you, 30 miles each way through infected no man’s land, not that raiders hadn’t been trying their damndest to get a foothold. But you had a connection there who had been growing marijuana and had a hell of a crop they were willing to trade for plenty of ammunition and antibiotics. You’d been orchestrating this trade with Tess for weeks, both of you carefully avoiding the sore subject of Joel. The initial plan had been you and her heading out but then Joel beat the shit out of a FEDRA guard for some imagined offense and they were suddenly without the connections they needed and suddenly, Joel became part of the plan. Lucky you. 

Once darkness started to fall, you picked up a little stone that was stuck in the frame of the cracked window. You took careful aim and flicked it, watching it sail to hit Joel square on the forehead. He twitched in his sleep, grimacing, but he didn’t wake. 

You looked around a moment, searching for something else to use against him. You found it in the form of a wad of paper that you had to stretch to reach but you did. You tightened the ball and aimed, throwing it. It didn’t make it quite as far, bouncing off his hands as they sat folded at the base of his chest. He didn’t even flinch at that. 

“Dammit,” you muttered, looking around again. You found a rubber band then, perking up a little as you picked it up. You arranged it carefully on your fingers, pulling it back and aiming it like a gun, targeting Joel’s nose. His oddly beautiful nose. Not that you ever really thought that way about him, of course. You shot the rubber band and it flew, snapping right where you’d aimed it. He jerked awake and you turned quickly so it seemed like you were just looking outside into the night. 

“Wha…” He mumbled. 

You turned your head to look at him as he sat up, seemingly disoriented. 

“You hit me with somethin’?” He asked. 

“What would I hit you with, Joel?” You asked. “I was about to come wake you up, though. Can’t get a late start because of your lazy ass…” 

“Show you lazy…” he muttered, hefting himself up off the sofa. “Let’s move.” 

You gave Joel this much, the man was efficient. You’d forgotten just how efficient in the years it had been since you’d last worked together. He cut through the QZ quickly and smoothly, the knowledge of routes run by FEDRA guards seemingly innate as he knew exactly when and where to avoid and how to do it. In what seemed like no time at all, you were outside the walls and starting into the ruins of the city. 

“Got a safe house about an hour’s walk,” he said, setting an almost punishing pace as you moved alongside him. “We get there, wait for daylight, press on in the morning.” 

“Oh, because you’re the decision maker?” You asked, brows raised, even though you agreed with him. “Just expect me to fall in line…” 

“You know what, princess?” He rounded on you, forcing you back into the wall of a building you were passing. “You’re lucky I came out here with you after the shit you’ve pulled…” 

“Shit I pulled? I fucked up!” You all but yelled at him. “I know it! I think about that all the fucking time, that he’d still be alive if it weren’t for me! I don’t need you to fucking remind me, I know what I did and I’m sure you’re fucking perfect and that no one’s ever died because you fucked up…” 

“You don’t know a goddamn thing,” he growled, pressing closer to you for a moment and his eyes were dark and dangerous. For a moment, you thought he might kill you. Or kiss you. He didn’t do either. Instead, he just stepped back, looking you up and down once. “Keep your shit together this time. Don’t want to die because of you.” 

Tears burned your throat and eyes and you swallowed them and walked a few steps behind Joel, trying to keep an eye out for signs of infected and raiders and trying to make sure that Joel didn’t die. Even if it was just out of spite. 

The next day was easier than you expected, too. You made it quickly out of the safe house in the morning and dodged a hoard of infected, skirting around the writhing mass of them lying on the street. You didn’t really feel like you could breathe until you were outside the city, where the air was cleaner and you didn’t feel the specter of what happened years ago looming over you. 

You and Joel mostly ignored each other, watching the tree line as you kept an eye out for whatever might be lurking for you there. But, every now and then, you thought you caught Joel looking at you out of the corner of your eye, his head snapping around the moment you seemed to take notice. 

After walking for most of the day and covering 20 miles, the two of you stopped and made camp, Joel deeming it safe enough to make a small fire. You watched him after the two of you had eaten and settled, the light casting flickering shadows on his face. 

Joel, you were almost loathe to admit, was an incredibly good looking man. There was a roughness to him that you found almost comforting in the world you were both trapped in but there was beauty to him, too. The symmetry of his features, the plush of his lips, the cut of his jaw. You wondered what he was like before all this, not just when he was younger but before this world had a chance to sink its teeth into him. Maybe you would have been friends then. Maybe something more than friends. 

“How’d you end up smuggling?” You asked, not able to keep sitting here in silence any more. 

“What?” He asked, looking up from where he was cleaning his gun. 

“Smuggling,” you said. “Doubt you were born a smuggler and you don’t seem like you were a drug mule or something in the before times. How’d you end up doing it?” 

“How does anyone end up doin’ anything?” He asked. “Needed cards, people needed drugs. If people want to pay me for ‘em, I’m not about to argue.” 

“So that’s it,” you said. “You woke up one morning and thought to yourself ‘I think I’m going to tell FEDRA to fuck off today by running drugs’ and started a whole new career.” 

He sighed but didn’t say anything. 

“I don’t buy it,” you continued, sitting back against the tree you were propped against. “There’s something else…” 

“Not your business if there is.” 

“So there is something else!” You said, almost smug. “I’m on the right track, excellent.” 

“You always this nosy?” 

“Usually,” you said. “Let’s see… Maybe Joel Miller just likes an excuse to hit things.” He scoffed but didn’t say anything. “Not that? Interesting… Maybe Joel Miller gets off on breaking the rules. Is that it? You have authority issues?” 

“Can we go back to not fuckin’ talking?” He asked. 

“Not authority issues then,” you nodded, ignoring him. “Well, that leaves just one other theory.” 

You were quiet, looking away from Joel and fighting the urge to smirk as you did. It only took a minute of silence before he sighed. 

“Goddammit,” he said. “What. What’s your theory.” 

You let the smirk happen then, looking back at him. 

“That Joel Miller doesn’t feel alive unless he’s about to die,” you said. “And that Joel Miller needs to feel something so he decides to do the thing that almost kills him because what else is there to have?” 

He watched you for a moment, his eyes hot and angry, before he looked back at his gun. 

You laughed once. 

“So predictable…” 

“And why do you do it?” He asked, looking up at you, the rage barely contained on his features. “Must have a reason, right? Livin’ outside the QZ as long as you did, fuckin’ around outside it now, what is it? You got some kind of death wish?” 

“Yes,” you said, looping your arms around your knees. He blinked at you in surprise for a moment and you laughed a little. “I’m not nearly as mysterious as you, it’s not some secret…” 

“Why?” He cut you off, gun set aside now. You frowned but he pressed on. “You got a life, why do you want to just throw it away…” 

“You call what I have a life?” You asked, brows raised. “Never thought you’d be so generous in regards to anything related to me…” 

“Ain’t it?” He asked. “Sure, it’s not what it was before, can’t just do what we did then but…” 

“You think that’s it?” You gaped at him. “That I miss being able to go to fucking happy hour with my coworkers or grab dinner at Chili’s so I might as well drop dead?” 

“That’s not…” 

“I lost people, Joel,” you snapped. “I know everybody did but when I say I lost people, I mean I lost everyone. By the time you and Tommy found me, there wasn’t a single person left on Earth I knew. My parents turned in the outbreak, they bit my brother and his wife and their daughter. I survived with my fiance for a while but he got shot by a FEDRA officer when we were trying to make our way to the fucking QZ and then I was alone. I stayed out there because, what, was I supposed to go live with the people who killed him? No thanks. What the fuck is there? So yeah, you know what? I smuggle shit. I like the risk. I like telling FEDRA to fuck off. I like being able to handle myself because I’m the only thing I can count on. Don’t act so fucking surprised that I’m not thrilled with life in the QZ just because you brought me there.” 

Joel was quiet for a moment and you just squared your jaw and looked away, arms crossed tightly over your chest. You knew you shouldn’t let Joel get to you the way he did - especially not after you’d picked at him and pushed him here - but he got under your skin the way no one else left alive really seemed to. You hadn’t spoken to anyone about your fiance, not in years. It was a wound you’d long set aside, a casualty in the war on humanity that had hollowed you out so much that it seemed like you couldn’t really feel anything unless you were on the edge of your own destruction. Or, apparently, picking a fight with Joel fucking Miller.

“Could be worse,” he said eventually. 

“Yeah, well.” 

“M’sorry.” 

You looked at him then, brows knitted together. 

“What?” 

“Said I’m sorry,” he said, voice a little gruff. “Didn’t… didn’t know. Wasn’t trying to… I’m sorry.” 

You blinked for a moment, trying to get your bearings. Of everything you’d expected to hear out of Joel Miller’s mouth, I’m sorry wasn’t it. 

“I’m sorry, too,” you said eventually. “If you want to talk…” 

“I don’t.” 

“Right,” you nodded. “Well…” 

“I got first watch,” he said, picking his gun back up. “Get some sleep.” 

The next day, you reached the trade you’d arranged, the woman you’d run into a few times when outside the QZ there with her partner. They hauled so much marijuana out - wrapped tightly in old newspaper - that they had to use wagons to carry it all. You unloaded your haul and the trade went smoothly, Joel lurking toward the back and standing guard, keeping a surly watch over the whole proceeding the entire time. It took some doing to pack all the pot into your bags but you managed it, thanking the couple and starting back toward the QZ. 

You were close to where you’d stopped the night before when it happened, the snarl of infected crawling over your skin. 

“Fuck,” you slung your rifle down from its place over your shoulder and turned to where the sound was coming from, seeing a cluster of at least a dozen infected moving for you. You shot, catching the first in the head and you watched it drop. 

“Go!” Joel yelled, planting his feet and taking aim. 

“Fuck you!” You snapped, ignoring him and shooting. “I can handle myself.” 

He growled at that but didn’t say anything else. Instead you stood with him, side by side, trying to pick off the group that was charging for you. For a moment, you thought you’d done it, that you were in the clear. 

And then, Joel’s gun jammed. 

You realized it when you didn’t hear any more gunfire coming from beside you as the remaining infected drew closer. 

“Joel!” Your eyes darted his way and you saw him trying to force the lever back, to no avail. He looked to you and the infected and back to you, his jaw squared. 

“Get back to the QZ,” he said, not giving you a chance to respond. Instead, he charged forward, gun held not like a firearm but a staff and he swung it, hard, so the butt of it slammed into the skull of an infected as three others dove for him. 

“Fuck!” You yelled, ignoring him again. Like hell he was going down out here like this, like fuck you were letting this asshole die for you. You took careful aim, taking down infected that you were confident you could headshot without putting Joel at risk, just one bullet going wide and exploding on the bark of a nearby tree, the rest finding their mark. And then he was on the ground, just one infected left, too close to him for you to be able to shoot and it wasn’t that you chose to do it, not really. It was more like instinct, flying forward, shedding your backpack and dropping your gun as you did, wrenching your knife from its place at your hip and jumping onto the back of the creature, your arms going around its neck as you yanked back on it, hard. 

Your weight threw it off balance and it shrieked, starting to claw at you, twisting in your hold to see if it could sink its teeth into your skin. It bit as best it could at your arms but the thick of your coat kept it from getting any further and you struggled to adjust your knife to drive it into the thing’s neck but you couldn’t get it, not without letting it go.

“Goddammit!” Joel was panting for breath and you could barely see him out of the corner of your eye as he scrambled to his feet. You tightened your grip on the infected, the stink of the rot of it from the inside out making you gag, and it slammed you back into a tree, catching you off guard. You barely registered the sound of your skull hitting the wood before you passed out. 

***

You didn’t listen. You never fucking listened, why could you never fucking listen? 

You were the single most infuriating person Joel had ever met. Stubborn as hell, independent to a fault, seemingly desperate to pick every fight you could find. Of course you didn’t fucking listen to him. You never had before, why would you start now? 

Seeing you that close to infected - again - was terrifying. 

This was why he didn’t want to go out like this with you. This, right here. Because he knew you wouldn’t listen, he knew you’d wind up in this situation, knew he’d have to deal with the fear and the pain of you dying when it was his fucking fault why couldn’t you just fucking listen?

He’d thrown himself at the infected to give you a chance. One of you was probably going to die out here and he wasn’t about to let it be you. Not when he’d already done so much, gone so far to try to make sure you fucking survived. Because dammit, if he couldn’t make sure one of the few people he actually cared about actually lived, what was the damn point? 

But did you take the chance he was giving you? No. Of course you didn’t. 

And all he could do was watch in horror as the thing you’d jumped on top of slammed you into a tree with a sickening thud, one he could hear above the snarling and snapping of jaws. Your body went limp and you slid from its back to the earth, landing in an unnatural looking way. No one who was in control of their limbs fell like that. His blood was ice and he moved without considering, roaring as he ripped his knife from his belt and tackled the infected who was turning to go after your throat. He hit it so hard he rolled with it, the creature’s mouth reaching for him as he held it back. They came to rest on the ground, that thing on top of him and Joel slammed his knife into its neck again and again, until it went quiet and still and Joel was bloodied and panting for breath. 

He shoved it off him and he half crawled to you as he got to his feet, not willing to wait until he was standing to start moving. You were still when he reached you, your head thrown back, half on your side, mouth open. 

“No, no, c’mon,” he pulled your coat open to get at your chest to try to do what he thought was CPR - not like there were fucking certifications for it in the QZ - but, when he did, he realized you were breathing. He lowered his head near your mouth and could hear the soft, shallow sound of your life and he sat back on his heels, taking a deep breath. 

So he hadn’t gotten you killed. Not yet, anyway. At least there was that. He let himself sit with the relief for a moment before checking you over, looking at your throat and wrists for signs of a bite but didn’t find any. Another lucky moment. 

“Alright princess,” he said, tapping your cheek lightly. “C’mon. We gotta get movin’, let’s go.” You stayed still. His stomach twisted. “Know you like to fuck with me but now ain’t the time, we need to get out of here, time to wake up…” 

He half expected you to respond then. You’d love this, the fact that he was damn near panicking because you were hurt. He knew you’d want to draw it out. 

But you wouldn’t be stupid about it. You wouldn’t put them at risk, not really. 

“Fuck,” he swore, adjusting your limp body as best he could before lifting you to his chest. The hair at the back of your head was matted with blood. He tried not to think about what that might mean. “S’alright. You’re gonna be fine, just… You’ll be OK.” 

He kept thinking that, over and over, as he carried you, looking for somewhere he could protect you for a while. 

It took him time to find it, a farmhouse with overgrown fields that looked like it hadn’t been touched in years. The door was hanging open, creaking on its hinges, and Joel brought you to the kitchen island, setting you gently on the dust-covered formica. 

“Stay there for a minute,” he said, leaning against the counter to recover his strength and his breath for a moment. “Gotta… gotta make sure we don’t got company.” 

He went through the house room by room, barricading the doors on the ground floor and pleasantly surprised to find most of the top floor intact, no holes in the roof or broken windows. He gathered some blankets from the main bedroom and carried them down to where he’d left you. He propped your head up gently, pouring some water on a cloth and cleaning the cut there with care before covering you with a quilt and pulling a kitchen chair up beside you. He checked to make sure you were still breathing before sitting down, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, hands folded almost in prayer. 

He should have told Tess to fuck off. He knew better, when it came to you. There was a reason he’d avoided you ever since that day everything had gone wrong. Hell, he’d been avoiding you before that, too. 

From the moment he’d met you, he liked you a little too much. You were the exact kind of woman he’d gone for before, one who was capable and strong and a total fucking smart ass. He liked a woman who challenged him, one who made him think. You did those things, you did those things like it was second fucking nature, all while being one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, before the outbreak or after. 

He knew he had to keep his distance from the beginning, that he’d get too attached if he let himself. But you were a valuable partner, so he did his best to keep you at arm’s reach while going on runs with you and his brother. He thought that had been enough, that he’d done a good job of protecting himself from the disaster that waited at the end of any form of attachment in the life he led now. 

And then he saw you freeze in the face of infected. 

He was so afraid in that moment that it shocked him how fast he made the call. The decision to put his body between you and the infected was an easy one. He wanted to make it back to the QZ, to his brother he’d found some reason to live for over the last few years, but he wouldn’t want that if you didn’t come back, too. But you didn’t fucking listen then, either, too busy trying to do the same damn thing he’d have done in your position. If you hadn’t been with him, he’d have tried to save Harvey. He was a good man, he’d watched Joel’s back plenty, Tommy’s too. He deserved a better end than the one he got. 

Joel just couldn’t risk it. He couldn’t risk you. 

He let himself rage at you about it. Even though it wasn’t your fault, none of it had been. He’d known it then but even more so after. Years later, outside the QZ, he watched as a large hoard worked its way south for the winter, just passing through. You couldn’t have seen them coming, no one could have. 

He never told you that. Because, after the day you froze, he was far enough away from you that he wasn’t going to have to watch you die and he wasn’t going to have to carry the blame if you did. He couldn’t do that again. He knew that much of himself, he knew what he wasn’t capable of surviving. If you were out of reach, he’d have room to breathe. 

But you were still leaving the QZ. He hadn’t known that, at first. He’d just assumed you’d stay put and take the shitty jobs FEDRA offered to get by. He hadn’t even known that Tess knew you, not for years. It wasn’t even her that told him you were still smuggling, it had been a FEDRA guard. He’d overheard your name when Tess was handling a trade and put two and two together. He damn near marched over to your apartment that second and demanded to know what the fuck you were thinking. But he didn’t. He kept it together, he kept listening for news of you, kept waiting for the day that he knew was waiting for him, the one where you didn’t come back and he’d find out about it from some other smuggler or some asshole guard who found out when you didn’t show up with his supply of pills.

And then your name came up when he was trading with a FEDRA guard. It was a small deal, some pills for cigarettes and liquor, just enough for one guy. He was a new client of Joel’s, one he was happy to have. His demand was low and he was good leverage for bringing shit through the gates, turning a blind eye for a good deal on drugs. He just hadn’t seemed to learn quite yet that Joel wasn’t a friend. 

“You know other smugglers, right?” He asked, glancing at Joel as he counted the pills out in his palm. As though Joel was stupid enough to short change a fucking FEDRA officer. 

“Suppose,” Joel shrugged. “Why?” 

“There’s this one…” he talked about a woman who was coming and going, one who was cocky and beautiful and hadn’t caved to his demands for sex the last time she came through and he tried to blackmail her. Joel ground his teeth but kept quiet as he prattled on, eventually pocketing the pills and handing over the cigarettes and booze. “Anyway, wondering if you think she’s the type who’ll give in or should I stop wasting my time and just take it?” 

Joel’s hands curled into fists. 

“Take it?” Joel asked. “Take what, exactly.” 

He looked at Joel, incredulous. 

“C’mon,” he said. “You know. They never fight too hard against a uniform but it’s more fun when they’re at least a little willing.” 

Joel’s punch came so quickly the man didn’t have time to put his hands up. He took him to the ground fast, blow after blow raining down on the man’s face until the air smelled like copper and his knuckles were split. The man gargled on his own blood below him, desperate gasps that sounded something like “please” but he couldn’t be sure. Joel grabbed him by the collar, his head lolling limply to the side as he tried to breathe. One of his teeth was hanging on my a thread.

“Keep your fuckin’ hands to yourself,” Joel panted. “Tell your fuckin’ friends. I hear about any of you messing with women around here? I’ll kill you.” 

Joel dropped him back to the ground and flexed his fingers. He thought he might have broken part of his hand. Wouldn’t be the first time. At least this one was worth it. 

“Pleasure doin’ business with you,” he said, fishing around in the man’s pocket and taking a pill from him. He popped it in his mouth, chalky and bitter on his tongue. “For my trouble.” 

He left the man there in the alley, knowing full well that he’d just shot his whole team in the foot. He didn’t much care. 

The irony that it had landed him here, outside the QZ with you unconscious and your haul on the forest floor was almost too biting. Maybe he deserved it. Maybe he’d been doing this wrong all along. 

You groaned and Joel’s head shot up as you started stirring on the counter, your hand going to the injured part of your skull. 

“Easy,” he said gently, getting up slowly so he wouldn’t startle you. “Took a nasty hit to the head, you were out for a while.” 

“Ow.” 

Joel laughed a little at that. 

“Glad you think it’s funny,” you said, sitting up. He rushed to help you and you gave him an incredulous look as his hands found your back and your hand. “Jesus, I feel like I got put through a meat grinder…” 

“Well, s’long as you ain’t bitten, think we can handle that,” he said, taking his hands back now that you were sitting up. 

“Amen to that,” you said, stretching a bit before looking him over and then looking around, a small frown on your face. “Where are we?” 

“Farmhouse,” Joel said, shoving his hands in his pockets just to give them something to do. “Think about a mile from where we were. Can find our way back OK. I’ll have to, your pack is still out there.” 

“Shit,” you said. “Yeah, we can’t afford to come back without it, I traded my entire stash for my share of the pot…” 

“We’ll find it,” he said. “Don’t think anyone else is comin’ through here any time too soon.” 

You nodded slowly before looking back to him, your eyebrows knitting together before you flinched, your hand going to the back of your head again. 

“Will you actually listen for a change and take it easy?” He asked, going to check the wound. “Jesus, bane of my fuckin’ existence, not doing a goddamn thing I tell you…” 

“Why are you still here?” You asked, ignoring him yet again, fingers finding the gash on your head and tugging at it until it started bleeding again. Joel sighed before pulling your hand away. “Hell, why’d you bring me here at all? You just said I’m the bane of your existence, why the fuck did you go through this much trouble? You could have just left me there, taken my pack, kept all the haul for yourself…” 

“You really think I’m capable of that?” He asked, brows raised. He knew he hadn’t exactly been kind to you over the years but fuck, he didn’t think it was that bad. He pressed the wet cloth to your head again, watching as the red filtered over it. 

You shrugged. 

“Jesus,” he muttered. “Yeah, alright, you piss me off more than… shit, about anyone else I’ve ever met. You’re the bane of my existence…” 

“So…” 

“Will you let me talk?” He snapped. “Fuck, woman, always gotta be right, always gotta have the last damn word, always gotta do whatever’s gonna get you into the most trouble…” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry that I managed to save your fucking life today,” you snapped back. “Please forgive me!” 

“I don’t want you saving my life if it costs you yours!” He yelled. 

You pulled back from him sharply, eyes wide as you blinked at him in shock. He shook his head and pulled the cloth away from your skin. At least the bleeding had stopped again. 

“Don’t fuck with it anymore,” he said, dropping the bloody fabric to the counter. “Gotta leave it alone so it can start to heal, head wounds bleed like a motherfucker…” 

“Joel,” you said quietly, watching him. 

“What.” 

“Joel,” you said again, eyes still on him. “You… What did you mean you don’t want me saving your life if it costs…” 

“I don’t…” He cut you off before he took a deep, centering breath. “I don’t want anybody dying for me but… Christ, it can’t be you. Yeah, you’re the bane of my existence, you piss me off so much sometimes I swear it’s like you got a goddamn degree in just how to do it but you make me feel more alive than anything else left and I can’t…” His heart was pounding so hard it felt like a bruise. “I can’t lose you, especially not when I could stop it. Not when I could save you. I need you to stay alive, OK? I don’t want anyone else to piss me off the way you do, I want you to be the one getting under my skin every goddamn day…” 

“Joel…” 

“Still not gonna let me finish?” He gaped at you. “Fuck, I’m tryin’ to…” 

You didn’t let him finish that time, either. Instead, you kissed him, your arms going around his neck and pulling him roughly against you, your lips so soft and warm and demanding on his that it felt like you were trying to swallow him whole. 

It was like the logical part of his mind only worked for half a second after that. He knew, in that moment, that he should probably hold you back. Talk things out, make sure you didn’t hurt yourself - you’d just had a head injury for fuck’s sake - but that part of him vanished, consumed by you and the way you kissed him like you were trying to climb inside his skin. 

His arms went around you, pulling you to the very edge of the island so your pussy was pressed tight against his quickly hardening cock. 

He couldn’t help but grind himself against you, the zipper of his jeans harsh contrast to just how soft he knew your pussy would be and the last bit of resolve he should have held snapped. Your fingers fumbled at the snaps on his coat, pulling it open before going to the buttons on his shirt and he did the same, desperate to get at your skin and suddenly not caring that it was nearly freezing or that the two of you had nearly died not all that long ago.

His hands found your breasts, sliding inside the cups of your bra to cradle the soft warmth of them and you moaned into his mouth when his thumbs found your nipples, gently brushing them before working them in little circles as they pricked against his skin. 

Joel had tried to not think about this with you. It was tempting, always tempting, but he knew better. He tried to limit his thoughts of you to frustration and anger but he often failed at that. He had failed at it often enough that he had an idea of how you would feel in his hands, how you would taste on his tongue. He thought he would have known enough to be prepared for it if it ever happened. 

He wasn’t. 

You were, somehow, so much better than he’d ever let himself imagine. You were so goddamn soft, like the whole of you had been spun out of silk, tenuous and tender. There was something almost inherently wrong in how he was touching something as soft as you but he shoved that nagging guilt aside, too obsessed with feeling more of you. If this was how your tits felt in his hands, how your lips felt on his, how your hands felt in his hair, he had to feel inside you. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to think about anything else if he didn’t get to be inside of you, his mind would always be trying to create the way you would feel, to know how warm you would be, how safe he would feel in you and how calming it would be to know that you were safe, too, because nothing could reach you if he was there inside you, nothing. 

His hands reluctantly left your breasts and slid down to your waist, finding the button on your jeans. You quickly, clumsily kicked off your boots and lifted your ass from the countertop so he could slide your jeans and panties down, leaving you all wet and swollen and bared for him. 

“Fuck,” he panted, looking down at you for a moment before reaching one callused finger forward and almost reverently tracing your dripping slit. You groaned, your head going back in pleasure, your hips almost jumping toward him. 

“Joel,” you whispered, voice so goddamn needy. The sound went straight to his cock, skin stretched tight and balls aching. “Please…” 

“I’ve got you baby,” he said, opening his pants and tucking his jeans and underwear below his throbbing sex. “Make you feel so good, just…” 

He took his cock and brushed the head against you and you looked down to where he was about to push inside you and gasped. 

“Holy fuck,” you panted, looking at him, your eyes wide. “Joel, you’re… Are you going to fit?” 

“I’ll fit, baby,” he said, looking down again and notching the head of him inside your wet heat. You groaned as you stretched around him, fingers digging into the skin at his nape. He pushed the first inch of himself inside and stopped, looking back to you. He took your face his hand and your eyes searched his, desperate longing written there. “Just watch me, I’ve got you.” 

You didn’t say anything, you, just nodded quickly. His other hand went to the small of your back, angling you just so as he started to thrust into you, pushing in a little and then pulling back before going again, claiming more and more of you with each stroke until he was fully within you. He stilled inside you and pressed his forehead to yours, your eyes on his own, close enough that he could feel the warmth of your breath on his skin. 

He’d been right. Inside, you were fucking perfection. He could feel how you stretched over him, how your body perfectly took and held his own. You were so soft there it seemed impossible, like the world should have destroyed anything this delicate and supple. But you felt so like you, too. The heat of you was almost overwhelming, the strength of you sharp and clear when your cunt fluttered over him, already nearing your orgasm with telltale little spasms holding him tight.  He wanted to consume you and be consumed, devour and be devoured and he needed to fuck you deep and hard and leave part of himself inside of you or he might never think of anything else ever again. 

“Fuck, Joel,” your breaths were sharp and shaky. “I’m so… you’re so big, I’m so full, I… You have to move, I need you to fuck me, please fuck me, please, I need…” 

“I’ve got you, baby,” he said, gently angling your head just so. “Give you just what you need.” 

He kissed you as he started fucking into you, setting an almost punishing pace as he moved inside you. He drank down your desperate groans, savored the way your fingers scrabbled over his shoulders and neck and back, got lost in the spread of your thighs as you kept trying to take him somehow deeper. As if there was more of you for him to take, as if there was more of himself to give. 

Your channel grew tight over him and he knew he wasn’t going to last once you came but he was afraid he wasn’t going to even make it that far. He’d already given up on pulling out, he’d deal with the whatever fallout came from filling you up, but he had to feel you come when he was inside you. He was desperate for it, needed to feel how you’d draw so tight over him and pull his come from his body into yours, he needed it. He drove deep and found the spot inside you that made your legs clench a little tighter, fingers clutch a little harder. He pressed into it and held himself there, more rocking into you than fucking into you, grinding the head of him into the very softest part of you as your cunt drew tighter and tighter over him and you pulled away from his lips to cry out as you came. You throbbed around him and he could feel every part of you there, the pulsing of your body and the satisfaction of your cries damn near ripping his own orgasm from him. 

He pulled you close and tight as he came, feeling like his whole being was pulled down low and sharp inside him as he spilled deep into you. Your arms loosened on him but you still held him gently as he all but collapsed into you, his head on your shoulder as he panted for breath. 

“Fuck,” he managed after a moment, still deep inside you. 

“Yeah,” you laughed a little. 

He sat back from you, eyes searching yours again now that you’d both started coming back down to Earth. You reached up and ran your fingers through his curls, brushing them back from his face as he started to notice the cold air again for the first time. 

“Bane of your existence, huh?” You asked, teasing lightly. 

“Yeah,” he said, smiling a little. “My whole damn existence.” 

You smiled a little back. 

“Think I can work with that.” 

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♰ ⱠɆ₲łØ₦ ♰

♰ Pairings: demon!matz x chubby!fem!reader, demon!wooyoung x chubby!fem!reader, a sprinkle of demon!san x chubby!fem!reader, (eventual priest yeosang/jongho/yungi x chubby!fem!reader in the future)

♰ Genre: demon au/horror/smut

♰ Summary: Congratulations, darling! It's your destiny to be impregnated by four demons in an ancient Satanic sex ritual that'll lead to the birth of the Antichrist and bring about the end times. Now hop down into this demons' layer and let's get this thing going. Armageddon awaits.

♰ Word Count: 3.1kish

♰ Warnings: breeding kink, unprotected sex, no pulling out, double vaginal penetration, overstimulation, nipple play, breast play, rough sex, lots of breath play, ritualistic sex, scratching, a lil blood, oral sex (f receiving), sensory play, a lil nibbling, huge huge demon dicks so there's mucho vaginal stretching, the dicks can shapeshift (yes, shapeshift), demons give some dom vibes, reader's for sure subby, a lil possessiveness, demonic powers, religious themes, bondage, a lil choking, telepathy, your body's controlled via powers at some point, pet names (pet, little one, darling, good girl), and that should be it.

♰ A/N: Hold on, hear me out, I can explain. No, I can't. I'm a heathen. I like spooky shit and fucking demons so, ya know, here we are. This is the first part in a series I'm writing and it'll probably only get more unhinged from here honestly so, yeah, hop in babes. It's apocalypse time.

“And he asked him, ‘What is thy name?’And he answered saying, ‘My name is Legion, for we are many’” - Matthew 5:9

♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ Laberinto del Demonio ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰

Tucked away on the tree shrouded grounds of an aging Spanish manor, a labyrinth spirals deep into the earth. Beneath the lush grass and packed dirt, surrounded by the twisted roots of trees that feast upon the decaying corpses of those who attempt to intrude, this labyrinth is home to fearsome creatures who’ve peacefully slumbered here for hundreds of years. But tonight they awaken. For you. 

“Such a beautiful girl. Just let me…” Wooyoung compliments, fussing with a few flyaway strands of your hair. In the year that’s passed since Wooyoung came into your life all he’s done is fuss over you. You’ve never known a more attentive lover. Never met a man so intent on catering to your every whim.

Wooyoung likes to say that it’s the Fates that brought the two of you together but that’s more than a grave exaggeration on his part, it’s an outright lie. If he’d waited on the Fates it’d have been another 200 years before he stumbled upon a female descendant of your bloodline. Finding you by any means necessary, however brutal, was paramount to fulfill his mission and to soothe the heart that ached for what he lost when his love was stripped from him all those centuries ago.

Your resemblance to her is uncanny but everything else about you is incredibly unique. It stimulates him in endless ways, everyday with you marked by some new, exciting experience. He adores you beyond measure and the others, soaking you in through their collective consciousness, have grown incredibly fond of you too. 

“There. Perfect, as always” he smiles, taking a step back to admire your silk adorned figure glowing under the light of the moon.

Atop the labyrinth, you admire the torch lit staircase that spirals beneath you. It emits a certain energy that hangs heavy in the crisp autumn air, drawing you towards it. You know what awaits you tonight. Wooyoung went over it with you a dozen times in the last 24 hours alone. It’s something you long for, something that has your body flush with heat at the mere thought of. Yet you can’t seem to shake the nerves that have your fingers trembling as the handsomely dressed dark haired man takes your hand.

Wooyoung strokes your cheek and you soften at his touch, “Are you nervous, my pet?” 

“Not nervous. It’s just…” you sigh, nibbling at your inner lip, “What if I’m not who you think I am? What if I can’t handle it?” 

Wooyoung lets out a laugh you’ve come to liken to a jackal. Loud, mischievous, and undeniably his. “Can’t handle it? It’s that all you’re worried about?” 

He steps in closer to you, stealing a quick, passionate kiss from your crimson stained lips. “You were made for this. In every lifetime you have been and in every lifetime you’ll always be. Now come, the others are waiting.” You soak in Wooyoung’s words, forever a sponge ready to absorb his praise, and gift him the faint smile he needs to lead you forward.

Less forward, more down. 

Down past walls built of jagged stone, thick vines weaving between the cracks sprouting tiny emerald flowers you’ve never seen before. Down past ancient symbols carved in meticulously measured increments. It seems to be instructions of some sort. For what you aren’t sure but a tugging in the pit of your stomach tells you that you’ll soon find out. 

At last reaching the bottom of the labyrinth you find yourself in a cavernous room dimly illuminated by a hundred or so candles. At the center you spot a large pool of slithering black silk not unlike that which hugs your body. Wooyoung leads you to the center and, as he does, you feel the material begin to writhe against your skin. It snakes its way around your curves, exposing your plush figure to the warmth of the pit as you sense you’ve become one with it.

A chorus of voices begin whispering in your ear, invisible hands grasping at your most intimate areas. Wooyoung captures your lips in another kiss, already groaning at thoughts of what he has planned for you. His hands wander below your waist, fingernails growing sharper as they sink into the softness of your ass. You throw your arms around him, deepening the kiss, but he indulges you only for a brief moment before he begins to back away.

“Soon, my love” he says without speaking a word, “See you on the other side.” 

“Woo, wait!” you call out to him but a strong wind whips through the room, extinguishing the flames of the outer candles and swallowing him into darkness. The force of the wind knocks you off your feet but you land with no impact at all, the pit catching you in its embrace, thin strips of silk winding around your thighs. The air around you floods with laughter layered upon laughter, Woo’s melded somewhere in between. 

“Aah, finally I see her through my own eyes” a voice breathes out, tickling your spine. 

“Such a precious little human. So cute” another much deeper voice hums, the vibration ringing through your chest. 

“And she looks so, so…” a third voice chimes in, light as a feather, “Soft!” 

In the blink of an eye the silk wrapped around your thigh transforms into a hand, pitch black with razor sharp claws dripping a thick scarlet liquid down your leg. You let out a scream of absolute terror and it transforms back into the harmless material. It’s as if it were all in your head and the hand was never there to begin with.

“Seonghwa, you’re scaring her!” Wooyoung shouts and invisible arms envelope you, comforting you as your fear subsides. 

“Oh, no. I’m so sorry. I got a little carried away” Seonghwa apologizes, emerging from the pit in his human form.

He swims through the pit as if it were a pool, only his torso visible as he comes between your legs, his much gentler hands smoothing their way up your thigh. You don’t recognize the face of this beautifully androgynous creature but you’re positive you’ve felt his energy around you before.

“Is this better for you?” he asks, breath hitching at the sight of the slick, sweet arousal dripping from your core. 

“Seonghwa?” you moan his name for the first time as his tongue extends to flick your bud. “Woo’s told me so much about you.”

A shimmer of gold ripples across the dark pools that sit where his eyes should be, lips curling into a grin that’s both alluring and sinister. “Aah and what did he tell you about me? Good things?” he asks, his tongue whipping down to prod your tight hole. Seonghwa delights in the string of moans you release as he teases you, pushing his moist tongue into you little by little. Your walls eager to grant him entrance, stretching to accommodate the increasing thickness and length of his tongue. 

“Good? Y-yes, good” you breathe out, shocked at the depths his tongue manages to reach. There are no limitations, no bottoming out. He slips his way into every part of you. Tickling the back of your stomach, lapping at your walls in every direction at once. You can taste yourself on the back of your tongue, a sudden fullness in your throat suppressing your desperate moans. Your body’s no longer yours. It does only what he wishes it to. Moves only as he commands. 

“You’re being greedy. Share her. Now” something inhuman growls, breaking through the fog in your mind.

It’s not something you were meant to hear, the shedding of those performative voices existing solely for your comfort, but you’re far from afraid. On the contrary, such brutality laced with so much need has you clenching tighter, juices gushing out of you as Seonghwa’s tongue thrusts harshly into your core.

Seonghwa grunts defiantly, lifting you a few inches above the pit without laying a finger on you. Your arms dangle at your sides, fingertips grasping at nothing as your body arches against air. Droplets of your arousal run down your thigh, landing on the silk below and the creatures around you release a collective sigh of satisfaction. They can taste you, the ghost of your flavor lingering on their tongues. 

“You are like the other women in your bloodline…” the inhuman voice whispers, becoming more human the closer it gets, “Delicious.”

Two hands reach from outside of your field of vision to caress your plump breasts, firmly pinching your sensitive nipples. Your head falls to the side and you're met with another new face. This one more boyish in his handsomeness but more authoritative in his presence. Wooyoung told you that you’d know his leader when you met him. That you’d feel this immense need to gain his approval, to be as obedient to him as you can be.

“This is Hongjoong” you think and the leader smiles in response.

“Delicious and smart, mmm” he hums, leaning into your neck and breathing your scent deep into his lungs. “Let her speak.” 

The fullness vacates your throat at once, leaving you gasping for air, all those suppressed moans echoing off the labyrinth’s walls. Seonghwa’s tongue flutters softly inside of you now, his pace slowing just enough for you to speak. 

“You know what you’re here for, don’t you little one? Our Wooyoung’s explained it to you well?” Hongjoong asks, kissing you on the neck, his canines nicking at your smooth, fragrant flesh.

You let out a whine, adrenaline coursing through your veins, “Yes…he…everything…told me.”

Hongjoong laughs at your incoherence, finding it quite adorable, “And this is what you want? To let us have our way with you?” He releases one of your breasts, twisting the bud one last time before his hand's gliding down your body to grab handfuls of your belly. “To let us fill you with our seed and let it grow so that we’ll be, all of us, a family?” 

You’re fixated on him, a constellation of tears twinkling on your lashes, “I want it. I want this.” 

“Aah, then we shouldn’t waste any more time” Hongjoong sighs, gesturing to Seonghwa, “Let’s take her together, shall we?” 

Seonghwa’s tongue retreats slowly from your core in an S motion that makes the tip lash sharply at your walls on its way out. The space between you and the pit below begins to close, all current information misleading you to believe the arms you fall into will belong to Hongjoong.

“Relax your body and watch the skies” Seonghwa instructs as you fall against his chest and the vines between the stone walls climb their way up the ceiling. They radiate a vibrant amethyst, the sprouting emerald flowers emitting a sparkling dust that mists through the air. A trail of it drifts down the wall, drawing your attention to the shadows cast upon it by the light of the candles.

That’s when you see it. The silhouette of the creature crawling its way up your body. You’ve yet to feel him but he’s there, advancing up your figure, twisted horns brushing your cheek as it’s face meets yours. Hongjoong takes you carefully by the throat, tilting your head to face him in his human form, “The skies not the shadows, pet. Never our shadows.” It isn’t a threat and it need not be. Your obedience is promised, sealed with a kiss richer than any wine.

Hongjoong’s mouth sips hungrily from yours as he spreads your legs, the swollen head of his cock leaking arousal as it stretches your already soaked core. “Mmphmm” you whine between his lips, your lids squeezing shut the further he pushes into you. He grants pleasure to your walls unlike any the earthly realm could bring. He seems to transform inside of you, shifting into whatever he must to perfectly fill every ridge of your delicate pussy.

Your body wants to clench around him, to feel him as completely as it can but, no matter how hard you try, an invisible barrier prevents it. Anatomy 101 dictates that, with the size of what you’ve taken, there should be not a centimeter of free space. By all means you should be screaming in agony, not pouring out such blissful moans. But, as Woo said, you were made for this and so there’s room still when Seonghwa’s palms come to rest behind your knees, hips rising to lift his pulsing length into your warmth.

Your eyes fall open and Hongjoong breaks from the kiss, freeing you to gurgle and moan as you at last watch the skies. There’s no need for clenching now, no possible way for you to do so. Buried deep within you, they exist both as one and as two. As one when they thrust into you, their demonic growls contrasting the lightness of your moans. As two when they split at the head, charting their own courses to punish your tender nerve endings. 

Seonghwa nuzzles against your neck, licking beads of sweat from your shoulder before it extends down to trace your collarbone. Hongjoong cups one of your breasts, fingertips digging into its plushness as he purses his lips around your nipple, suckling at the bud. Seonghwa’s tongue envelopes your other breast, the tip of his tongue circling your nipple.

Your body’s overcome with an unnatural heat that ravages you like a wildfire. Your mind’s whirling as you think of everything and nothing at once. Your teary eyes remain glued to the skies—always the skies, never their shadows—and your senses begin to shift. No longer are you smelling the honeyed scent of the flowers, you’re tasting it. And what you smell are colors, amethyst and emerald now aromatic as if they were herbs. 

“You are such a beauty to behold” Hongjoong’s voice praises, breaking through the fractured barriers of your mind. 

Seonghwa’s voice coasts in after his. “We haven’t felt this alive in centuries” it says, tickling your consciousness as does the breath at the back of your neck. “Maybe we could keep her like this. Whining and quivering between us. Forever our plaything. Would you like that, darling?” 

Hongjoong dips a hand between your legs, gathering your slick and dragging his drenched fingers across your lips. His laughter rings out in your head, “I think she likes the idea of it. Maybe…”

“Aaah!” you let out a scream that cracks to pieces in your throat. You’re hit with a rush that makes you feel absolutely feral, your nails thrashing at Hongjoong’s back as it overtakes you. 

“Good girl” he coos, unphased by the blood trickling from his wounds, “Come your pretty little brains out for us.” 

Seonghwa allows your legs to drop, strips of silk reaching up to coil around your ankles. His arms come around your waist, keeping you in place to fuck into you harder and faster. Thrusting. Pulsing. Claiming you. Flooding you with their seed until it’s spilling from your core and you’re coming all over their cocks, soaking them in your juices. Never in your life have you felt this perfect. This complete.

It’s impossible to differentiate between the labored breathing shared between the three of you. Even as you drift down from your high your breaths all sound as if they’ve left the same body. You arrived at this place a human but maybe now not as much. A part of you has been given away and, if it means feeling this way forever, you don’t want it back. 

Seonghwa softly brushes your hair away from your cheek, showering it in kisses, “You’ll rest with us now.” 

“Don’t be afraid” Hongjoong says, kissing his way down your tummy, “It can get a bit dark down here.”

“Down where?” you ask weakly before you’re snatched beneath the surface of the pit. Instinctively you begin flailing your limbs in a desperate attempt to keep yourself from drowning but your panic’s soothed by the two sets of arms cuddling up to you.

Surrounded by their warmth, you let the darkness swallow you and drift off to sleep. 

♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ 2. Despertar ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰

“Woo!” you scream, shooting upright, your heart pounding in your ears. You can’t fathom how long you’ve been asleep, the finer details of the previous events lost in the haze of sleep. You look around for Woo, for any of them, but you’re met only with the light, sparkling mist that hung from the ceiling above the pit.

Stretching your aching legs you feel something slink across them. “Wh…what is this?” you gasp, watching the fluorescent vines curiously explore your figure. Flower buds bloom as the vines reach between your legs, curving to ride your thighs up and around your torso. 

“Pretty aren’t they?” Woo asks, appearing behind you without a sound. 

“Woo, you scared me!” you pout, tempted to elbow him in the shin for frightening you so terribly. 

Woo crouches down to loop his arms around you from behind. “I’m sorry. I didn’t expect you to be so easily frightened all things considered” he teases, resting his chin on your shoulder. A graceful wave of his hand and he’s plucked a flower from the vine, twirling it before your eyes. You marvel at its beauty, the emerald glow creating a halo around your irises.

“Where do these come from?” you ask, brimming with wonder.

There’s a rustling in a nearby corner, the silhouette of a broad shouldered man emerging from the darkness. He smiles at you as he steps into the light of the mist, striking you with his features. Woo tucks the flower behind your ear, pointing to the approaching man. “They come from the mountain.” 

The man kneels before you, his dimpled cheeks inches from your face, and the vines tighten around you at his will. “But you can call me San” he says, obviously as smitten with you as you are with him. “Are you ready for us, love?”

You swallow hard and take your last full breath of air before the vine’s snug around your neck. “Yes, mmm, ready” you moan softly, surrendering to the strength of the vines. 

San takes you by the chin, his thumb tracing your jawline, “Hmm, breaking you will be fun. Just try not to look down too much. Might get lightheaded.” 

“Down?” you ask, glancing around at the bed of vines. You put all of your focus into watching them, searching for something you might’ve missed. But they’re as they were before, humming and glowing, doing their master’s bidding.

San guides your head in the opposite direction, revealing the pit of writhing black silk and the room illuminated with candles. 

“Oh, darling, haven’t you figured it out yet? You aren't down there anymore” Wooyoung laughs, tossing a flower into the air and watching it drift down into the pit, “You’re up here.” 

[alexitheslayer02]

I just realized...

The monkeys would be the most dangerous Yanderes (don't ask why this came to mind, it's one of my groggy morning brain thoughts). Like... Wukong D.O. (Destined One) Macaque (lmk only cause I have not seen him in any other adaptation.) AND MK TOO NGL

Just... Humor me for a moment.

It probably should be obvious. But it's not just danger levels from powers, but also their personality. Like, I can picture Mackie being on "Phantom of the Opera" type shit with his theater boi ass (what in the sweet heavens did I just type?)

Whereas, Wukong would be VERY clear on everything. He will not play around. Meanwhile the obsessive/possessiveness would probably just sneak up on MK. Like, he might not even realize it until he sees you around someone else and is like "Hold up- no. No, no, no. That's not right now, get back here."

D.O. on the other hand surprises you.

-------------- My thoughts/Headcanons

-------------- //Macaque\\

You can not convince me that this dramatic, petty, theater boy little shit (/aff) would not act like dude in "Phantom of the Opera". He probably would not make anyone sing, but dammit, he is manipulative and tricksy when he wants to be. And his shadow skills would make it easy to spy on you like bro in "Phantom of the Opera" does through the mirror. I don't know if he would set a theater on fire though- At most though, he'd be the stalker that tries to keep you safe. He does get possessive, but he would only kill if he had to. He's far more patient.

//Wukong\\

The yanderest of the yanderes in this list methinks, regardless of the version. Cause yeah no, bro is legit, book canonly, unhinged as is. He is already trigger happy to kill from the start. Yes, he does try, though not very hard, to talk things out. But there are certain things he won't even bother talking out. I feel, if yandere, this would be one of the things where peace was never an option. Like, I feel he would say, "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn" if you try to chastise him for killing someone who looked at you wrong hhh

//MK\\

^ See this? Totally not the face of a crazy person, right?

He is a little angel! There's the danger. He has absolutely no clue how crazy he himself can get, so... like Wukong, he is a loose cannon, but in a different way. There would be no warning signs until it's too late and he is covered in....

ketchup ^^ Yeah, that's what it is, don't worry, that person is just sleeping. Sleeping very, very, VERY still. In all seriousness, murder would not be his go to problem solving method. He is smarter than that, believe it or not. Murder is illegal, and would be highly counterproductive. He'd be aggressively affectionate. Lots and lots of gifts, hugs that are perhaps a tad clingy, things like that. (I do headcanon him as a hopeless romantic. So the tropey/cheesy romance things would be his natural go to)

His insecurities though, could build up and lead to an exploding steam pot if not careful. Basically... Give the boy your attention and he should be fine for the most part. Heavens forbid he catches you cheating though... No one will survive, not even him.

//D.O.\\

Speaks one or two words a year, legitimately one of the most calm individuals in any universe. I don't think anyone has ever seen him lose his shit. While Wukong is clearly unhinged, MK hyperactive, and Macaron is dramatic, this guy seriously comes out of nowhere if you don't know what to look for. He is open, his silence however hides that. The possessive/obsessive behavior would mostly show in his body language, expressions, and how he might hold you. If you don't pay attention, it will surprise you. That is, if he ever leaves any evidence for you to be concerned over :) After all, he knows you would not like it if you found out he killed someone who got too close. So why would he let his sweetheart find out...?

---------------------------- That's all! Have a nice day :D

[itslilithe]

💫 ART THE CLOWN HEADCANONS 💫

《This is my first fic and English isn't my native language so hopefully some mistakes could be forgiven, love yall and enjoy 🫶》

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

• Well what did you expect from an unhinged maniac? He would try to brutally kill you at first but then changed his mind because of somewhat sickening reasons.

• I believe that this man didn’t actually have any ideas about the concept of love, probably he was just too bored and wanted someone’s accompany(but should you still be grateful that he hadn’t split your head in half)

• Constant physical contacts - this man would be quite overly clingy when it came to cuddles. So be ready for the tight waist grips as well as having his whole face buried between the crook of your neck and your shoulder for hours.

• Expect him to get home drenched in blood and pouted like a little boy when you told him to clean himself.

• Didn’t need to eat at all but would happily devour anything you made for him(would also spit them out and react DRAMATICALLY if they tasted unpleasant to him lol)

• Lazily dropping his chin on your shoulder while crafting the most unforgivable weapons - you were settled down on his lap, facing him, feeling tired after a long day. He didn’t give a f*ck as you fell asleep on him but if you shifted, he would constantly adjust you on his lap and hold you more firmly against him.

• Art HATED the idea of being vulnerable in front of you, so after any bad kills, he wouldn't find ways to your place or just silently sneaked into your room to get some medical supplies before leaving as quickly as he could.

• Sometimes you caught him in his pathetic state and everytime you did, he tried to flee but you forced him to stay so you can patch his wounds up.

• He still could feel pain right? So expect some flinches and grimaces from your partner.

• He would look so unhappy after your treatment, hence his hidden anger and frustration but to your surprise, he didn't lay a finger on you. He just sat there, frowning childishly until you decided to give him some kisses on his cheeks, forehead and on the lips too.

• Would still be pouting but he liked it nonetheless.

• If you kept showering him with those maddening kisses, I'm sorry, he wouldn't be able to control himself as you'd soonly find yourself locked in his grip and against his lips as well - his left massive hand on your waist, while another tangled in your hair, holding you possessively.

• It was your fault after all so don't blame him if you were breathless(and a bit swollen too as this man didn't know what "boundaries" are)

• Too bad, the wounds which were carefully stitched and patched up would be reopened again after that:(

[oofthwoods]

'23 grid ── ˙ ̟ the echo !!

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 :: an overview of fem!driver relationship with a few drivers on the grid. just a bunch of cute headcanons that i can't get out of my head. i only added the ones i feel she would be closest with, but feel free to ask me about any other driver!

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 :: recommend reading the introduction for the backstory.

˒ ⌕ — MICK SCHUMACHER ( 47 )

more than mere teammates, mick and her have been glued to the hip ever since they met. with both of their parents being ex-formula one drivers for the same team, it was clear from the very start that they would see each other very often. as kids, wondering around the paddock, as teens, supporting each other on the track and now, as young adults, competing against each other on porsche and f1.

while mick is a sweet, introverted guy who tends to think about every word that leaves his miuth, she is the complete opposite — loud, bashful and someone who should have a bigger filter between your brain and mouth. is the epitome of orange cat × golden retriever, and fans eat it up.

while mick sometimes can calm her, it's more likely that she brings him into her shenanigans.

˒ ⌕ — MAX VERSTAPPEN ( 33 )

her and max couldn't have a more different upbringing. while he was roughly shaped into a champion by his father, she had been carefully brought into the motorsport world by yours.

they've met during her years as a red bull junior, and what started with max being a bit annoyed by her non-stop talking quickly turned into an honest friendship, where they both can say whatever they want.

it leads to max saying the most unhinged things and her being the only one who jokes along instead of feeling concerned.

˒ ⌕ — LEWIS HAMILTON ( 44 )

probably one of the cutest driver pairings in the grid. fans love to dig out old picture from the two and compare to it now.

lewis has always had a soft spot for her, ever since she was a kid roaming around in the paddock. he would show her his car, explaining all the things to her and claiming that his team was better than whatever team her dad was on.

once she came back to the paddock, now as a driver, he took one look at her and immediately took her under his wing. they both are, in their own ways, alone within the rest of the grid and he wouldn't let the media, or anyone for what matters, dim her light.

on the daily, he is always checking up on her, not in a overbearing fatherly way, but more as an older brother figure.

during her first months he managed to convince the media outlets to pair them both together for every interview, and he was always quick to shut down any stupid question sent her way.

if she annoys him for long enough, she manages to make him agree to coordinate his outfits with her.

˒ ⌕ — FERNANDO ALONSO ( 14 )

similar to lewis, she met alonso when she was very young. although he had a bad reputation during that time, she always loved to hang out with him, because she loved how cool he looked every time he won a race.

it took him some time to warm up to her, as he was never that great with kids when he was younger, but when she gifted him a drawing she had made of him winning a race, he was done for. yes, he was still seen as some sort of villain, but everyone agreed that he looked more human when she was on him arms.

he would grab her from her father's garage (with his permission, of course) and would take her to his, always waiting with her favorite flavor of pizza. it became a tradition for the both of them to eat it before a race, being his or hers.

whenever he could, he would watch her races from her garage, proudly wearing team merchandise with her name on it. when she won her f2 championship, he made sure to stand closely to the podium, and he would deny it, but he cried a bit when she raised her trophy.

such a cute duo because he tries to keep up with the things she likes, but still doesn't fully understand everything, so one day he would randomly say that her outfits is slaying and would leave with a polite smile while she stands there, confused, wondering where the hell did he learn that.

still tries to continue their pizza traditions <3

˒ ⌕ — LANDO NORRIS ( 04 )

they both barely knew each other before her debut in f1, but somehow clicked instantly. it might be because of their self depreciated tendencies, or their constant sarcasm. who knows? the only thing that matters is that when a reporter asks a stupid question, they can communicate with a single glance.

lando tries to get her intro photography but gives up once she couldn't fully understand how to correctly operate a camera. claims that she is a pretty good model to make up for it <3

somehow they know everything about everyone. it's a mix of lando knowing the drivers very well, and her knowing a lot of the mechanics of different teams. whenever something happens in the paddock, they both definitely know.

˒ ⌕ — GEORGE RUSSELL ( 63 )

met simply because she thought his pose was so funny that she had to ask him if he thought about it previously or decided to just wing it during filming. he was slightly confused that she seemed so friendly after they had just net, but quickly understood that was simply how she acted.

the most meme worthy duo. with his perfect timed actions and her dynamic facial expressions, their faces are always seen together plastered on twitter.

the butt of most of her jokes. she constantly sends him tiktoks and he claims that he is tired of it, but always sees each one and gives a little commentary.

if lewis is her caring older brother, george is her annoying one.

˒ ⌕ — OSCAR PIASTRI ( 81 )

the two of them have a long running joke because they don't know when they met. they've never competed against each other, as he was always one year above in the series, and never raced for the same team, but somehow, they feel like you've always been friends.

(they once actually sat down to try and trace back to their first meeting, but only got as far as to a gala in 2020, but they both remember already being friends during that.)

people thought they would never see them interact because of their distinct personalities and were very surprised when she pulled him into a hug after their race in bahrain.

always bantering and joking, oscar likes that she understand his sense of humor and don't take it too seriously.

˒ ⌕ — ALEX ALBON ( 23 )

met solely because she felt the need to tell him how pretty his girlfriend was. he was very confused but appreciated the compliment (even though it wasn't dedicated to him).

after that he kept getting drawn by her straight to the point comments, always failing to conceal his laughter after she says something, either during debriefing or interviews.

she pretty much became his and lily's daughter. they take her out to eat after races, lily tries to teach her how to golf and alex convinces her to die her hair if she scores at least 10 ponths.

[th3-3d3n-g4rd3n]

I’m dying scavenging the internet for more Carl grimes x fem! reader fics. I love the idea of wear the hat ride the cowboy. Maybe with the virgin trope if you write that. Love some smut! No Rush, get to it when/ if you get to it! ❤️

omg this is beautiful and you’re so sweet

(i had to write this twice because i forgot to save it the first time so i’m sorry it took so long 😭🫶)

☆彡༄

virgin! Carl Grimes x fem!reader

(reader and Carl are 18+) (i kinda pictured Carl being 18 and reader being like 22 but you can picture however you want)(suggested that the reader isn't a virgin)

cw: established relationship, riding, kindaaa subby Carl, I’m actually so unserious in the intro, dry humping, reader calls Carl cowboy, Carl is vocal and his parents are downstairs, premature ejac... he's very eager bless him, fem receiving oral

1024 words

☆彡༄

Carl Grimes is adorable. That’s the only word that comes to your mind right now, adorable.

His consistent smile, adorable. His random compliments throughout the day, adorable. His hugs from behind when he wants your attention, adorable. And, you KNOW that it should just warm your heart but for some reason, it’s warming somewhere else (if ya know what I mean…)

You and Carl were given the afternoon off so, you'd decided to read comics in his bedroom. You had eventually gotten a little bored (and bothered) so, what else to do but annoy your beautiful boyfriend?

Snatching his hat, you place it on your head and smirk up at him, sticking your tongue out. Jokingly, he rolls his eyes and says, “hey, careful. You know what they say?” You giggle at his response, “what do they say, Carl. Tell me” you reply, not knowing where he’s going with this, “wear the hat, ride the cowboy!” he chuckles.

You smile at his goofiness, before you got an idea.

You sit up and straddle his lap, “oh yeah, Cowboy? You want me to ride you?” you say with confidence that you must’ve pulled from your ass because you have no idea where that came from (hehe). For a moment, his flushed face and unhinged jaw that the boy below you presents make you think that you’ve made him uncomfortable. You consider getting off and just walking away, taking the embarrassment and probably never talking again. That was until he starts shaking his head yes rapidly.

His hands latch onto your hips, “are you being serious? Like, is that an actual offer?” You giggle a bit at his enthusiastic tone, "yeah... If you want me?"

"Hell yeah!" he shouts with wide eyes, to which you have to cover his mouth, "as much as I love your enthusiasm, stay quiet, Carl", you chuckle a bit to yourself at the situation, "your parents are downstairs," you remind him. His mouth drops to an O shape and he smirks in realisation, "oh shit... yeah."

You both sit there in silence for a minute, making sure that nobody was coming upstairs. When you hear nothing, you take the initiative to start moving your hips on top of his, catching him by surprise and making him sharply moan under the change of friction. You clasp your hand over his mouth oncemore, quickly realising how vocal the boy would be.

It doesn't take long before the boy's chest is heaving up and down, his lightly freckled face had been flushed with a deep scarlet. Of course, you promised that you'd ride him so, you couldn't have him cumming too soon. Stopping your movements, the needy boy whined from the loss of friction however, he stopped complaining when you took your top and bra off. He once again freezes in position, unsure of what to do. Since you knew he was a virgin, you took pity on his cluelessness and decided to give him some help, taking his hands off of your hips and placing them on your breasts to which he quite literally squeaks. "Don't twist your panties, Cowboy. Just take them off." You lift your hips and gesture to his jeans.

"Yes, Ma'am" he said, hardly above a whisper - unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans and, pulling them down and off before looking back up at you like an innocent puppy. God, he really drove you crazy.

Luckily, you were wearing a skirt so all you had to do was move your panties to the side before slowly sinking onto his dick. It was so annoying that his parents were downstairs because the erotic whine that emerged from the man below you was hot enough to make you almost cum on the spot. Unfortunately, it was muffled by your hand since you already knew what to expect from your vocal boyfriend.

"God, you look so pretty like this, Cowboy" you tease him. All he can do is look up at you with glazed-over eyes, cherry cheeks and swollen lips, continuing to moan behind your palm - already sporting a fucked-out expression. When he started bucking his hips up into you, you knew he wouldn't last much longer but, you didn't mind, I mean you knew he was a virgin so, you weren't expecting him to last long anyway.

"shit, shit, shit, 'm gonna-" he mumbles quickly before you feel his body tense and squirm beneath yours. You slow your movements, letting him ride out his orgasm before stopping fully. "That was so fucking hot, thank you.." he whispers to you, "you don't have to thank me, Cowboy. You're so cute."

He hides his flushed face in your neck and places soft kisses at the base of it. That was before he had a realisation, "you didn't get to cum, did you?" he said whilst wearing a lightly guilty expression. "No I didn't but, it's okay, I promise"

"No, it's not. Don't worry, I'll take care of you!" he smiles at you innocently before grabbing onto your hips, flipping you over, stripping you of your skirt and undies and lowering his face to your cunt. "You really don't have to, Carl it's oka-" you're cut off by the eager lapping of your clit, making your head fall into the mattress below you.

He was surprisingly skilled to say that he'd never done this before, keeping his mouth trained on your clit, sucking and circling whilst raising his calloused hands to your thighs and massaging them, before taking his right hand to insert a finger into your hole skillfully and, taking his other hand to your breast and massaging it like he was prior.

This time, you were the one having to cover your mouth due to being the centre of his attention. He inserts another finger and starts curling them in and out, hitting all the spots that you'd never been able to reach on yourself before.

Soon enough, you feel the knot in your stomach become undone and, your body spasms under his gentle touch; he watches you release on his fingers and listens to your muffled moans in awe.

"Shit, I could see you do that 100 times over"

I HOPE THIS IS OKAY

i quite like this one but you guys lmk what you think

love u, eden

[yumeka-sxf]

Thoughts on Spy x Family: Family Portrait

I finally got around to reading the SxF light novel, Family Portrait...and I mean "finally" because it's literally been sitting in my shelf since it was first released in English back in December of last year! I was distracted by Code White and the SxF video game which came out around the same time, but even long after that, I was having trouble getting motivated to read it. For some reason, experiencing SxF in novel format instead of in anime/manga just didn't appeal to me, plus the fact that it's not written by Endo himself (these weird preferences of mine are also why I'm not into reading fanfics either). Don't get me wrong, in general I love reading stories in prose form too, but for a series like SxF that already has such an established visual identity, it doesn't feel as "authentic" to me if that makes any sense. But I did want to read it eventually, since it is an official part of SxF media and Endo did the illustrations and does acknowledge the book (he wrote a nice afterword at the end). So I finally sat down and read it in sections over the course of this week! I'll share my brief thoughts on each of the contained stories:

Novel Mission 1

Since this was the first story in the book, it took me a while to get used to experiencing the world of SxF in novel form. There were some things I felt would have been better conveyed in anime/manga, for example, one of the very first gags about Yor misinterpreting Anya's nature class as some sort of hardcore outdoor survival trip. As I was reading that part I was like "I get the joke, but it would have been funnier if I actually saw these images and the characters' expressions with Endo's comedic illustrations." It was also a bit jarring to hear the characters thoughts and feelings from third-person narration, but I got used to it. As for the story itself, it was Damianya focused, something I'm not particularly into, but I don't mind it either. I liked the rare, soft Damian moments, and the thing with the squirrel eating Anya's peanut trail was funny. I also liked the scene at the beginning where Loid and Yor feed Bond together while Anya watches.

Novel Mission 2

Oddly, this was my favorite of the stories! Of all the characters, I think the author nailed Yuri's unhinged thoughts the best - as I was reading, I couldn't help but hear every cringe thought in his voice, which is a good sign of how well the author gets the character! I actually chuckled at a few parts too, both from his insane Yor-obsessed and anti-Loid musings, as well as from his banter with Anya. The police interrogation scene was great and would be even better if it ever gets animated! I also found it interesting that this story has the first instance where we find out what Yuri thinks about Bond (that he's fat and useless - rude!) Also his first time hearing about Franky apparently...makes we wonder if Endo will make him feel the same way if these things ever come up in the manga.

Novel Mission 3

I liked this story a lot too! I think it worked the best in novel format out of all of them, probably because it was more focused on drama and emotions than comedy. It's ironic that the two official SxF stories that feature the deeper side of Franky's character - this one and the omake chapter from volume 13 - are both not even part of the main canon! Alessa would have definitely accepted Franky's job as an informant, but he felt that someone like her should only be surrounded by "beautiful things." The poor man really needs to see that inner beauty matters too, and he has that! I also think he should have swallowed his pride and told Loid the real reason why he wanted the disguise...not that it would have changed the outcome. Poor Franky.

Novel Mission 4

This was a cute Forger-focused story, but like the first one, I felt it had parts that would have been more effective in anime/manga form, for example, "hair monster" Yor and whatever hideous painting Felix ended up making! But despite that, it was still funny and cute. Though I do think the author went a tad overboard with Yor's flustered antics...they just kept going and going, lol. Also, like the movie, we have another scenario of Loid getting flung into the air by Yor but landing gracefully on his feet (though this instance was much tamer since she wasn't drunk and only pushed him instead of hit him). Again, maybe I would have appreciated the humor in this story better if I saw it in anime/manga with Endo's hilarious designs and expressions, but for what it was, it was enjoyable enough.

Short Novel

This extra short story would be perfect as a reintroduction story for a future anime season...maybe one day!

-----

Overall, the Family Portrait novel is a nice addition to the Spy x Family universe. Even though I feel the humor in the series is most effective in illustrated form, it's still nice to have more stories in the canon, especially ones that show new sides to the characters, like the Franky and Yuri stories. Like the movie, it's debatable if this novel should be considered true canon or not, but personally, I don't find anything in it that contradicts canon, at least not yet. So yeah, definitely check out the novel if you haven't already! 😁

[parad-ice-lostandfound]

Prompt:

Pairing: Mafia! Octavinelle and MC/Yuu/ Reader

Genre: Hurt/ Comfort ig? Slight crack

TW: Kidnapping, blood, minor character deaths, mc does get a little hurt, mentions of guns, usage of guns, violence (because mafia au), mc also curses at one point, talk of killing people, the prefect wears earrings and has hair (i saw someone use put this in warnings once). Let me know if I should add anything else!

AN: First request for TWST ^^ It's my first time writing for the Octavinelle trio, so please forgive me if they're ooc, I tried my best. This was very fun to work on! Send me asks if you wanna know more about my version of mafia!twst because I had so many thoughts about this entire au but I couldn't fit everything in one post lol. Not really happy with the ending (when am I ever) but I hope you enjoy!

"I'm telling you, you don't wanna do this," You warned your captors for the third time as they checked the cuffs holding you up by your arms. It was an uncomfortable position, kneeling with your arms restrained with metal chains above your head. Your shoulders felt sore, and with how every movement made the skin of your wrists rub against the harsh metal, you just knew that you were going to be sporting some pretty nasty bruises around them.

Vil was going to be furious about that.

You watched as the leader came into your range of vision, a self-satisfied smirk painting his face as he walked over to you. There was quite some distance for him to cross to reach you, and he took his sweet time as he leisurely walked over to you. Probably an intimidation tactic, just like how making you kneel was.

You looked at him, unperturbed. Your eyes roamed over the man, who for all his intimidation tactics, was nothing but a poor little boy way in over his head. A reckless little minnow who didn't know his place, as Floyd would say.

Speaking of Floyd. You grimaced at the monstrosity of an outfit the man was wearing. In all your time as a valued member of the mafia, you had seen many outlandish outfits, courtsey of the more openly unhinged Leech twin and the field of work you were in (power had a way of killing the fashion sense of people and letting it rot inside their head). But this... was on a whole another level.

You mentally lit a candle for everyone who had to witness the... very unique display.

A sharp slap snapped you out of your thoughts. 'Did this man, just backhand me? Well fuck you too bitch', You thought to yourself as you looked back at the still smirking man. You could feel a bit of wetness at the edge of your lip, a slight stinging also being felt at the same spot. Your tongue darted out, recognizing the metallic taste of blood as you gingerly licked at the small wound.

"So this is the little Prefect of Night Raven, hm? How... pathetic. Truly, the mafia organization has fallen if they allow the likes of you to hold any position higher than a discardable pawn," he huffed, and you resisted rolling your eyes. Here comes the villainous monologue, you thought to yourself.

As the man spoke, you took note of the people in the room. Apart from you and the man, there were five other men, all very familiar faces. All of them were earlier members of NRC, who left the organization 'honorably' before your appointment as the consigliere to Dire Crowley, the main boss.

There was nothing honorable about the way they were treating you right now though.

Very reluctantly, you listened to the man's speech about how he was basically aiming to cripple Night Raven Mafia by killing you. You forced back a yawn through the speech that was supposed to strike fear into your heart; unfortunately for him, you dealt with seven very unpredictable and occasionally difficult underbosses on a daily basis. Said underbosses must have already been informed of your forced absence.

Now it was just a matter of waiting and watching to see exactly who would come to your rescue...

The door slammed open as soon as you thought that, and the eyes of every person in the room turned to it. You smiled as a very familiar face entered the room, his mismatched eyes dark and foreboding.

"Hi Floyd," you chirped, unfazed by the frown on his face and the dangerous aura around him. Floyd's eyes met yours for a moment, brightening at seeing you, before turning even harsher when he saw the state you were in; clothes (gifted to you by Riddle) rumpled, carefully styled hair (courtesy of Vil) in a disarray, and a slight swelling on the side of your face you were struck at (which would send nearly everyone into a murderous frenzy).

"Who touched my Shrimpy?" Floyd growled out at the men. "Don'tcha know that I'm the only one allowed to rough them up? You're just begging to be squeezed to death."

At this point, the men, who were earlier frozen in fear, started to fumble with their guns. Before they could even get their weapons out, gunshots rang throughout the room, each man dropping to the floor one by one.

"Ah, pardon me, but I would prefer if you did not aim your weapons at my brother," a familiar voice spoke from behind Floyd to the now dead men in the room.

You grimaced at the blood now flowing out and seeping onto the floor, the puddle growing in size and inching closer to you.

"Jade, get me out of these things," you said, successfully getting his attention as you rattled the chains holding you up.

"Ah, of course dear Prefect," Jade hummed, and you did not need to look at his face to know that he was smiling. Jade walked over to you, stopping only to take the keys to your chains from the pocket of the leader. Placing the key into the lock and turning it released you from your uncomfortable position, and you yelped as you flopped onto the ground unceremoniously.

"Shrimpy~" Floyd's rapid changes in mood was one thing you did not believe you would ever get used to, "did you really get kidnapped by this sad little bunch of minnows?" He asked, pulling you to your feet and slightly spinning you.

"Shrimpy is so helpless~"

"Indeed," Jade smiled, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. You would never get used to the all too malicious upturn of Jade's lips either. He took you from Floyd's arms, ignoring his twin's grumbling as he dusted off your clothes. "Pray tell, how could such... insignificant little men capture you, dear Prefect?"

Before you could answer, a third voice rang through the room. "Jade! Floyd! I told you not to kill any of them!" Azul huffed as he entered your line of vision, glaring at the two men who sandwiched you.

"Ah, pardon me Azul, but they were going to aim their weapons at Floyd. Not to mention how terribly they were treating the Prefect," Jade hummed, not at all repentant of his actions. Azul huffed in frustration, glaring at his consigliere.

You gave him a little wave, and Azul's eyes softened as they met yours. He looked calm and collected as he walked over to you, but the trembling of his hands as he held yours gave his true feelings away. His eyes quickly scanned your body for wounds, narrowing in displeasure at the reddened skin around your wrists and the cut on the corner of your lip.

"Prefect."

"Azul," you said, not missing the way his eyes relaxed considerably as he saw you wearing the seashell earrings he had gifted you. "Ah, so that was how Idia-san found out you were kidnapped almost immediately," he hummed. You raised an eyebrow at his words.

"The earrings have trackers in them," Jade helpfully explained.

"Well, in any case, we must take you back to the Lounge. Everyone else must have assembled there by now."

"Huh? Why?"

"Because, Prefect, we were supposed to bring your kidnappers so that a joint decision could be taken for their punishment," Azul sighed as he pushed his glasses up his nose slightly.

You glanced at your kidnappers, wrinkling your nose as the blood puddle slowly crept closer to your shoes. "They're dead."

"A most unfortunate incident, yes. But, nevertheless, their identities will suffice for now. This just goes to show that we must never leave any loose ties," Azul said ominously. "Perhaps my dear colleagues will learn a lesson from this."

"... Sure. And how did you three manage to make them stay back at the Lounge while you carried out this rescue mission?"

"The heads found it best to send us three since we were most likely to bring your captors back alive," Azul said, glaring at Floyd who just roamed around the room disinterested in the conversation. "Well, that is what Crewel and Trein thought, at least."

You chuckled. "I don't think the outcome would've been any different with the others either so... let's just get to the Lounge."

Azul smiled. "As you wish, Prefect."

[chuluoyi]

A suggestion: a drunk Satoru! Maybe in the middle of his slurring he delulu seeing Suguru, the rest is up to you! <3

wasted

- gojo satoru x reader

your boyfriend is a very uncooperative drunk, and chaos (read: innuendo) caused by it ensues.

genre/warnings: a crack fic, takes place during gojo's past arc because i just love that setting so much, slight profanity, mildly suggestive

notes: okay nonnie, i have some ideas regarding this *wink*

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

Gojo Satoru is straight up a bad drunk. He even said so himself, and everyone could attest to that.

So why did you let him drink at this godforsaken bar?

"Shokooo!" Satoru flailed his glass, wobbling on his feet. He sounded so unhinged that made the people next table gave him stink eyes. "Give me anoth-er! Anotheeeer!"

"Hells," Shoko winced at the sight, her hands moving the beer bottle away from his reach. "No, you're positively wasted."

You plucked the glass out of his hands. "Cut it out, Gojo. You're making a scene!"

"Anooo—" he hiccupped, his weight dangerously leaning on you in an attempt to get his glass back as well as forcing Shoko to grant him another cup. "—theerrr! Anotherrr! Shokooo! C'mon!"

"Do something about him! Or else we're going to be stuck here."

"I'm trying!"

This whole night was a total mishap. None of you are of age, and therefore neither of you should have gone out for drinks by falsifying your IDs. Shoko initially just invited you and Nanami, until the latter promptly declined when Satoru sprung out of nowhere and declared himself going.

He whipped his head so suddenly when the bell in the entrance of the bar jingled. A customer walked in, and he was a total stranger—neither you or Shoko recognized him.

“Oh my… isn’t that…”

But Satoru, teary-eyed in his drunken haze, seemed to see far beyond you did. "...Suguru? Suguruuuu!"

"Oh God, no!" You kept your hands on his waist tightly as he almost leapt out to barrel towards the poor stranger. "Shoko! Help!"

"Gojo, you shithead! He is not! Stop it!"

"But he is! Suguruuuu~!"

And so his thrashing and the ruckus he caused got the three of you kicked out of the bar. Shoko immediately washed her hands off him by saying that she was hopping to the next bar and left you struggling to keep your balance, with Satoru heavily leaning on you as the two of you trek across the road to Jujutsu High compound.

"Gojo—don't do that! Keep walking!"

"Mmmmm~" he slurred, swaying to the left and right as he pleased and you swore, one more time and you would fling him to the asphalt. "Why Gojo? It's Satoru! Sa-to-ru!"

"Come on you ass, we need to go back!" you hissed.

"Say my name first!"

And when he deliberately swayed dangerously to the side, you really let him go—and then he hit the sidewalk.

You wanted to scream. Satoru merely burst into a fit of giggles though.

Somehow, you managed to get him back. But this whole disaster didn't end there as right after you unlocked his door, he suddenly pushed his whole weight on you, making you bump into the counter.

"It hurts! Satoru, you idiot!" You scowled, rubbing your stinging shoulder—it would probably leave a nasty bruise. And it caught his attention. Satoru turned to you, his sparkly eyes boring right into yours.

"You're pwetty," he jabbed a finger at your face, slurring. You flinched at how close his finger to your eye socket was.

"Thank you." You swat his finger away, not in favor of the possibility of being blind tonight. "Now we must get you to the bed. Come—"

You apparently didn't know that alcohol could mess his system so much that it came as a total surprise when he crashed his lips onto yours without warning. "Mmfh!"

Satoru grabbed the back of your head and entangled his fingers in your hair, deepening the kiss. It was searing, his tongue attacking your mouth and sometimes bit your lips and he was so good—

He then led you to his bed, and tore your shirt open, his deft hands caressing and fondling everything your body had to offer, and for a moment even you felt drunk too. It was intoxicating how quickly he rendered you putty, how the blue in his eyes darkened with desire, and it was all for you—

"Sweetheart," he whispered in a low, scratchy voice. "Now, open up for me, yeah?"

You barely caught the meaning of his words when a finger inside you made you see stars. Your eyes widened, and your moans were muffled when he shoved his mouth again against yours. It was dizzying, and you felt lost in his arms, as he kept twisting his finger inside.

This certainly wasn't what you imagined it was going to be. You two were a couple, and couples fuck. But this... you had half a mind to push him away, and you were really going to, when he suddenly pulled away from the kiss, gazing at you with half-lidded, unfocusing eyes and sloppy grin.

"... really... you are..."

And to your horror, he suddenly collapsed, his full weight squashing you.

You blinked in disbelief. What just happened? You felt like a starfish pinned under a rock.

And all you could fathom now was that this grown-ass man child had left you aroused and wet down there.

When Satoru woke up the next morning, he was in a shocking amount of hangover. There was this dull ache in the back of his head and forefront of his temples, and he felt nauseous. He braced himself against the headboard, willing it to pass.

He had been drinking. He took a mental note not to ever drink again. He always feels so miserable afterwards. What possessed him to go for it last night? Darn him and his impulsivity.

He remembered thinking the world had became such a happy place. He remembered seeing Suguru and thinking he had come to give him a hug. He remembered you sulking against him, and you looked so freaking cute that he couldn't help but pounce on you altogether.

And that's where his memory blanked out. What happened afterwards?

Then he realized that you were beside him on this very bed. He looked at you, who had barely cocooned yourself in the blanket. Your hair was in disarray, a few buttons of your shirt loosened—missing, even? And is that what he thinks it is on your neck?

Did he bite you so hard that you bled?

Dread pooled at his gut at the possibility of what he had done.

"Hey," he muttered, shaking you, in a state of half-panic. "Hey—wake up, please."

You whined at the rude awakening, cracking one eye open. "Satoru..." your voice was still thick with sleep and a deep frown creased on your face. "...what is it?"

And Satoru shuddered. The way his name rolled from your lips so languidly seemed to ignite something feral within him, but he ignored it.

"Hey, uh—are you... are you okay?"

"Huh?" you shot him an annoyed grunt. "It's still early, Satoru. Please, I need sleep. I'm tired after the shit you pulled on me last night."

"What shit?" he tried to sound unconcerned with the way you referred it, but he still gulped.

"...you don't remember?"

"Sorry," he muttered.

"Gods..." now you were frustrated. You buried your face in the pillow. "You put me through hell, Satoru. And not to mention—"

"Did I force myself on you?" he asked with a lower tone. "If I did, I'm... sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to."

"Hu—what?"

Satoru felt another wave of nausea at his gut, and he tried to suppress it. "I didn't mean to wreck you. I know I'm lousy, but that definitely wasn't what I planned."

Confusion was palpable on your face, even though you were still half-asleep. "Sure... it's okay..."

"I..." Satoru was at a loss of words. You were all but confirming that he did rail you in the worst way. He wasn't exactly the type who would make the first time memorable or such, but he certainly didn't want it to be a forceful act on a spur of a drunken night. What could he say to that?

"Satoru? You don't seem well," you furrowed your brows, noticing how restless and pale he was. "Are you having hangover? Do you want some water?"

He wanted to kick himself as his sanity eaten away by the sheer guilt and shame. He pressed both hands to cover his face. "I'm so uncool..."

"Finally you're realizing it. Would be better if you do it during the day and not—" You checked your phone. "—at freaking five in the morning. But seriously, are you doing okay? You drank quite a lot last night."

No, he wasn't. The urge to puke was still there and his head was still pounding.

"What's gotten into you?" now worry was present in your tone. "Satoru, please. You're acting strange. It's still to early for whatever it is that you're plotting. Just tell me if you're not feeling well."

He stayed quiet for a while, trying to remember to what extend the damage he had done. But you seemed to translate it as him not feeling well as you let out a sigh and begrudgingly sat up to get him a glass of water. Poor you, he thought. Should he take an advantage of you fully and unashamedly just like he usually did?

You handed him the glass. "Here, drink this." He took it, but just stared at it. His crestfallen expression made you twitch in irritation. "Drink already. What are you thinking anyway?"

"Don't you... resent me?" Satoru mumbled with resignation, finally having the courage to look at you.

"For what? Last night?"

"What else? Why are you still worrying about me?"

"That's..." you faltered, bewildered. "You feel that bad about it? Satoru, you were a pain but it's your everyday thing already so be grateful that I'm not holding it against you."

"Everyday thing?" he asked incredulously. "Hey, it's—that's not something I do everyday!"

"It sure is! You are always whining, being dramatic and causing trouble!"

"Hey, but it's not about that! I'm talking about how I almost did you with violence!"

"Do... me?"

"That!" he pointed at your bruised neck, then looked away with guilt. "I... don't know how it escalated to that, but I'm truly sorry."

You reached to the bruise, somewhere between your neck and shoulder, and winced a bit. "Ah this. You pushed me and I crashed into that cupboard."

"Oh?" Satoru blinked in surprise. "And that, your shirt? Your missing buttons?"

"You tore it, but then you fell on me, you idiot."

"So... I didn't rape you?"

Your face immediately burst into the shades of red. You scrunched up your face in exasperation. "I'll blast you if you did it without my consent, Gojo Satoru. But thankfully no."

A whole load of self-blame dissipated from him and he almost laughed had the urge to throw up not this overwhelming.

"Apparently you're decent enough to think if you've wronged me. It's a surprise," you mused with a smug grin.

"Of course I am!" he scowled. But suddenly his queasiness shot up, and his vision blurred. And what came next was the contents of his stomach.

"Satoru! What the hell!? Don't vomit on me!"

Epilogue

"And that's what happened," you explained with contempt. Satoru puckered his lips in indignation, meanwhile Shoko threw her head back, wheezing in a fit of laughter.

"Gojo, you're such a baby," she cackled with satisfaction. "Losing against mere alcohol. Not the strongest, after all, huh?"

He rolled his eyes. "I hope your liver rots from drinking and smoking so much."

[thebluester2020]

[WuWa] Kinktober Day 7: "Hatefucking"

Summary: You hate everything about Scar! The fact he's clearly evil aside...you hate his stupid charming voice, his stupid voice, the fact he's taller than you...long lithe fingers you'd like to see fingering your—okay, you may have a bit of a crush on him.

Warning(s): Dub-Con, Fingering, Porn With Plot, Outside Sex (Reader + Scar fuck in an abandoned town), Name-calling, Rough Sex.

Side Note(s): Funny how this is coming out on the day that I have a test. I put all my frustration into this one 💀

(Sorry for the lateness, exam day meant that this was gonna come out later rather than sooner 😔)

You've been in a strange 'situationship' lately.

To be frank, you already felt like you were a traitor to everyone who had put their faith in you, being in such a tumultuous relationship with a member of Fractisidus. But it wasn't your fault, you felt! It was originally supposed to be one a one-time only, a way of getting rid of the obvious sexual tension that was threatening to boil over the pot.

And it all started so simply at first!

One day, you had just finished slaying a horde of Tacet Discords as a small commission, a simple job just to put some extra money in your pocket. And then...he came.

. . .

"Ah! Y/N, fancy seeing you out here." A familiar voice called out to you. A charming sound yet with a subtle undertone of slyness, like a fox closing in on its prey, tricking and luring its target into trusting it.

You wouldn't be so easily fooled.

"Scar," You greeted with an annoyed exhale. "Going to try to convince me to join your organization again? The answer is still no." You said with venom in your voice. After only battling him a few months ago, you were shocked at the audacity he had to walk up to you so brazenly! As if you weren't a second away from taking out your weapon and attempting to cut his head from his shoulders. Despite this, however, Scar continued to come up to you with a certain...look in his eyes.

What was his goal this time?

"Don't dismiss me so coldly Y/N..." He said, your eyes following him like a hawk until he eventually stood right in front of you with no regard for your personal space.

You immediately surveyed the area around you, did he have friends with him this time? In such an open field, he had the advantage if he was aiming to kill you this time...

"I simply wanted to hang out with you!"

"Hang out?" You scoffed. "You nearly tried to kill me last time we met you damn freak." You spat, your hand coming to rest on the hilt of your sword.

His eyes quickly caught it before he smirked. "Oh...don't tell me you hold onto grudges, last time I was just...teasing you! My organization really wants you in our ranks, there's still time to join."

"No chance."

"Ah...you'll join us one day Y/N." He sighed before turning on his heels. "This time though—" He turned around, casually placing his hands in his pockets before his attention then turned to the Tacet Discord you had just recently killed. "—I offer you something more...personal. A moment for us to get to know each other outside of battle."

Your brow rose at the offer. "What's your angle?"

"No angle, to show you that our organization isn't what you may think it is. We should take some time together."

Before you opened your mouth to immediately decline, you took a moment to truly think about it. You were still searching for the origins of your past, answers as to who you truly were, and still...you kept coming up with empty answer after empty answer. In the back of your head, you suspected that you would probably have to resort to other methods in order to get the results that you wanted but...so soon? And with a guy like Scar? He was unhinged, crazy was putting it way too lightly and he nearly killed you! You escaped with just the skin on your teeth and a whole lot of scars and bruises on your body.

But...Fractsidus seemed to have a lot of information on you.

More than other people seemed to.

Maybe...maybe this was the right decision.

"Fine," You eventually said.

Scar couldn't help the immediate grin that crept onto his features as he turned back to face you, his hands still in his pockets. "But if you pull anything, I'll kill you. I swear it."

He chuckled. "We'll see about that."

. . .

And the rest was history.

The spot the two of you would meet up at would be the same every single time. The abandoned town where you and Scar first met and he told you the story of the black lamb and the shepherd. Admittedly, when you first went, you constantly thought that those meet-ups would be your last. When you'd appear around a corner, he'd always respond with a grin that you failed to decipher whether or not it was genuine or if it was hiding a darker intention.

You would spend hours talking, nothing of Fractisidus or your search for your origins and who you truly were! Simply life, your friends and the likes. It was...comfortable, something that you knew you shouldn't have felt around the man but you just couldn't help it! Spending so much time searching, moving around and having exciting things happen to you day after day, it became tiring.

Suddenly you found yourself yearning for the time when Scar would suddenly appear to you from an alleyway or when you were by yourself, offering out of the blue if you would like to hang out with him once more.

And all too eagerly? You'd agree.

And with such eagerness...it wasn't your fault that you hadn't noticed that he was leading you into a trap of desire! All until it was far too late—

"Y-You disgusting scumbag..." You hissed to Scar as you were currently pressed up against one of the buildings in the abandoned town. Your chest was heaving as you struggled to keep a sense of your surroundings, the feeling of the white-haired man's slender fingers fiercely plunging themselves into your cunt making your knees buckle underneath you and your head become foggier and foggier with pleasure.

Scar moaned at your insult, parting his head from the crook of your neck to look you in the eyes with a smirk. "Aw..." He cooed. "Still calling me names, Y/N? How long will it take before you start saying nicer things to me~?" A sharp gasp escaped your lips when Scar suddenly pressed his lips against your own, his tongue prodding at your lips for entrance. When he gently nibbled down on your bottom lip, you unintentionally moaned, allowing him enough room to slide hi tongue into your mouth before he felt around.

"Sweet..." He moaned against your lips, his fingers speeding up in the process before you felt him start to rub himself against your front.

You shuddered at the idea of such a large thing being inside of you...wait. "G-Gross!" You hissed as you suddenly pushed his shoulders, too weak to actually get him off of you but strong enough to make him pause in his actions and take his lips off of yours. He crudely licked his lips with a hungry smirk. "Oh don't fight me like I'm some villain Y/N...you want this as much as I do. Don't think I've missed the way you've looked at me over the last couple of weeks."

A fierce blush rose to your cheeks. "You're so delusional..."

He laughed. "Am I?"

As if to remind you, he curled his fingers up inside of you, his knuckles rubbing along a spot inside your inner walls that made your toes curl and your eyes threaten to roll back inside of your head. Scar lewdly moaned at the sound of your squelching pussy, his eyes steadily trailing down from your gaze and to your soaked pussy, your slick starting to roll down your thighs.

Scar laughed mockingly. "Dirty...it's like you're nearly wetting yourself under this cute skirt of yours~"

"F-Fuck you..."

"Oh I plan to," He placed another kiss on your lips. "And I'm soooo certain that you'll enjoy it Y/N~"

. . .

"S-Scar—!" You practically screamed out as Scar fucked you while you were pressed against a building. His fingers dug into your waist as he pulled your ass back to his pelvis, creating a lewd symphony of skin slapping against skin as your lover's groans threatened to be heard all the way back to Jinzhou. Your red-eyed lover's eyes were entranced by your ass squishing repeatedly against him as he fucked you like a common whore.

He had been wanting you like this against him since the day he spotted you.

And his need for you only increased when you had beat him in your fight against him. The sight of determination in your eyes—the sheer hatred you had for him, it had him rock-hard in his pants.

The nights he fisted his dick at the thought of you with that same look in your eyes quickly grew unbearable, it was the reason why he approached you outside of the orders of his organization in the first place! And although he wanted you to look at him with that same vitriol in your eyes, as if you wanted to kill him...the reward of making you a cock-drunk slut on his cock?

He figured he could get used to this as well.

"Fuck...! W-Why is your dick so big—!?" You gasped as your hand flew to wrap around his wrist, both trying to pull him closer to your body while simultaneously trying to push him away. "Fucking... v-villain..." You continued, your words constantly interrupted by your moans much to Scar's amusement.

"Why's your cute pussy so tight?" He licked his lips as he suddenly pulled his dick out of your cunt until he was nearly all the way out.

He reveled in the way your moans suddenly died down, being replaced by gasps and whines of confusion before your head turned in search of him. "Why...why did you stop—" Your words were once again interrupted, replaced by a shrill keen as Scar suddenly plunged himself back into your needy cunt once more. A series of cocky laughter tumbled out from his lips as he started to curl over your body, feeling his orgasm begin to creep up on him.

"So fucking cute Y/N..." He whispered in your ear, lightly nipping on the shell of your ear, causing you to suck your lower lip into your mouth as your pussy clenched around Scar's dick. "Maybe this'll get you to join Fractsidus?" He continued to whisper lowly in your ear, his rough and harsh pace beginning slower and harder as he rolled into your cunt.

You moaned at the slower pace, his cock pressing threatening to press against your cervix as you turned your head to look back at him through blurry eyes. "I-In your dreams..." You tried to retain some sense of dignity, trying not to give in to your enemy any more than you already have.

"My dreams seem to be coming true then~" He moaned. "After all, I have you right where I want you, don't I?" Before you could respond, Scar's hand moved to roughly rub your clit, the sudden increase in pleasure practically tearing your orgasm out from your body as you wailed out in bliss. And those wails and moans of your enjoyment were the final push Scar needed before he pressed himself against you with a whispered 'Fuck'. The warmth that flooded your insides making you sigh in bliss as you hung onto cloud nine for a few seconds more before you started to come down slowly.

Your enemy was more dangerous than you previously thought.

How was his dick so addicting?!

And even more...why were you already thinking of when to come back to him for more?

[4pfsukuna]

could you write smth for long curly haired reader who isn't doing the best mentally so she isn't ty taking care of here hair and geto who has a crush on her offered to help her with it? i just know he'd be soft and gentle.hed even look up how to take care of curly hair to help make his girls (he wishes 😔) hair look the best it ever has (so she can ask him to keep doing her hair for her) i need him down bad 🙏🙏

omfg girl. GIRLLLLLL. This may have just healed my writers block🥹

Suguru Geto was the neighborhood heart-throb with his dark volumtious hair, midnight black eyes that were so dark they nearly looked purple his tall muscular frame (his thighs were drool worthy when he man spread) and his hands that could probably… no definitely palm your whole face. Between that warm honey coated laugh and the smooth calm tone he always heals in his voice he had every girl and woman in a 10 foot radius always swooning over him. Not that he noticed his eyes were always on you and when you werent around his mind was thinking if you ate today, how your day was, what new hobby you picked up what conditioner you used? The last one was a bit unhinged.

Last week he made a complete fool of himself when he seen you in the shared hall of your apartment and finally gathered up the courage to ask you on a date but it started off so well. 

“Hello sweetheart, how was work?” He grins down at you waiting for your brown eyes to meet his and he feels his heart stutter when you do with a soft smile.

“Hey Geto, it was alright, glad im off though im starving” you answer” as you fumble with your house keys pushing some of your long curls out of your face with a single finger.

He can feel his insides exploding, this was it you just put the ball in his court for a lay up or whatever silly basketball analogy Satoru used when he told him about you, now was his chance.

“Oh? Theres a new family owned restauraunt that just opened nothing to fancy. You should go” he blurts out faster than he has time to think about it and his tongue instantly feels heavy in his mouth. His jaw feels hinged and hes clenching his mouth and fist so tight he doesnt know what will break first his teeth or the skin on his palms from how bad his nails are digging in.

“Yeah, i think i will. Have a good night” you wave and hes so in his own head he doesnt realize the way the smile doesnt reach your eyes from either dissapointment of him not asking to go together or the long day of work is something he spends the next few days pondering about once he gets in his apartment.  The only thing hes glad about is that neither Shoko or Satoru was there to embarass him endlessly. He always had a smooth slightly arrogant demeanor but when it came to you words fealt heavy in his mouth, his hands got clammy and his eyes could not leave you what so ever.

The next time he sees you hes shocked. Its around midnight after a full day of listening to anxiety by meg thee stallion on repeat loud enough for him to hear it in his living room that he begins to get worried. Its when he sees you in a dark blue hoodie blanket going to take out your trash that he stops you.

“Hey sweetheart, i can take your trash for you. You shouldnt be taking it down this late anyway” he reaches for the bag not expecting you to pull away.

“N-nah its cool, i got it” you voice cracks and he finally looks at your eyes seeing them puffy and red which makes him fall into defense mode. 

“Who did it? Ill kill them” and that wasnt exactly what he wanted to say but fuck it its not like he didnt mean it and it earns a chuckle from you. Ok, finally he was doing something right.

“Everything and everyone” you pout and he feels his heart soften at the helpless look of defeat on your face. If only you knew you had a man that would actually burn the whole world down in front of you.

“I dont have enough matches for the whole world but if you give me enough time i can run to the store to buy more and burn the it all down for you” he rubs his chin earning a smile this time.

“Maybe not the whole world” you start with a slight giggle and his heart starts doing that weird thing again “It's just… my anxiety has been in overdrive this week and my job has rumors about letting some people go and i think its me since i've been talking about being home sick and my hair stylist canceled my appointment which ruined my week because not only does she not know when she’ll return but my hair products are nothing more but empty containers that won't get shipped here until next month. NEXT MONTH Geto, i cant just put anything in my hair and nobody here can help me” you pout feeling your bottom lip tremble as you fight back tears not wanting to cry infront of your neighbor you needed to hold onto some shred of dignity— hes already watching you in this snuggie with kuromi socks on.

Your face is quickly found in his chest as he pulled you in for a hug and you nearly start sobbing, its not your fault when people hugged you when you were sad it only made you cry more.

“And then i forgot to go grocery shopping” you finally break the hot tears running down you face you wait for him to push you off instead he just holds you tighter resting his chin on your head and rubbing your back. His embrace kinda felt nice and this was the only thing that felt right in your whole horrible week you were going to bask in it.

“I can help you with your hair” Geto blurts and you wipe your eyes to make sure you heard him correctly.

“You what?” Your raspy voice questions looking up at the man whos tall enough to nearly reach the hallway ceiling.

“I can help you with your hair” he repeats, using a thumb to wipe some of the tears from under your eyes, his palm cupping your cheek to keep you in place. Completely unbothered by the fact that any of your other neighbors could walk out and see you two like this he’s just happy to have you this close.

“No shade but what do you know about kinky curly hair, plus im not trying to let anyone experiment on my hair let alone a man” you cross your arms but you don’t pull away from his embrace which he selfishly enjoys.

“You think this long healthy hair comes from using a body wash and shampoo 2 in 1? I actually take pride in my 8 step hair routine” he tells you reaching up to pull his hair from its bun letting his long obsidian locs cascade down over his broad shoulders the coconut scent hitting your nose.

You stare at him for a second debating how wrong this could go letting this man play in your head. I mean worse case scenario it gets tangled and you big chop after your hair crisis(amongst the several youve had throughout life) youve always said ‘fuck it im going to just go bald’ and maybe you finally spoke it into existance. 

You see the hopefulness in his eyes and know this man is fully convinced he can do your hair and will spend all night convincing you if he has to and you're not sure if it's his resilience or your lack of sleep that has you finally crack and let out a long sigh.

“I promise i can do it just give me a second to toss this trash, grab my products and i'll be over in a second” he promises with an excited grin grabbing the trash from your hand and taking off down the hall.

“And thats not all… they were roommates” you gossip with him as he runs the detangler through your hair after parting it into four sections. He was on the last section before having your lean back to begin the wash process and maybe he did know a thing or two about hair. Gently guiding your head back to the running water you hear the CLICK of the bottle opening before you feel the cold substance on your scalp.

Your eyes instantly close when his fingers begin massaging your scalp his nails feeling so heavenly against your roots.

“Oh my God Sugur your fingers feel so good” you nearly moan and he has to stop for a second, pretending to look for your detangler comb to not lose his composure. he cant even help his pants getting slightly tighter, he was honestly so down bad for you. 

He rinses repeats detangles conditions detangles again with very little instruction from you and honestly it was because you had began dozing off quite a few times enjoying the physical touch of another human while he is the physical embodiment of happy to be here.

He notices the song you had on repeat is also off instead choosing Sade to listen to which was alot more calmer. Its when he begins humming along that your brows scrunch and he panics assuming that hes hurting you.

“What you know about Sade?” Youre soft voice pokes making him chuckle and damn does he have a nice laugh.

“Im a man of culture” he pokes your temple and you jokingly pretend to attempt to bite his finger your goofyness slipping out easily around him. “Besides im washing your hair obviously im very cultured” he adds in and you cant argue there.

An hour later you find yourself rambling about all your favorite things favorite music, hobbies and embarassing stories of you from the fourth grade which he counters of embarassing stories of him in high school with him and his best friend satoru who he promises to introduce you to.

“And i'll section the braids up here into smaller parts So if you want a middle part or side part you have options” he tells you absentmindedly and you crain your head back to make direct eye contact but he gently grabs the side of your neck using his thumb to push your head forward.

“You'll get neck pain if you do that sweetheart” he commands softly in a way that makes your spine tingle and you rest your head against his large thigh.

“Have you done this before?” You ask your mind instantly floating to another woman and while there weren't too many girls that looked like you in japan with a hair texture like yours he was entirely too good to never have practiced this once.

“Yes” he answers honestly and you force yourself to push down the thoughts that make your stomach drop. “Though they usually fall asleep by the time i get to conditioning their hair”

And it's like you can hear the record scratch and the peaceful bliss you're in ends abruptly.

“So it's nice having someone to talk to up until the end” he tells you before finishing a braid and you feel it fall mid back before he shuffles around. There's a bright light gleaming on the side of your face and you turn slightly to see a picture of twin girls, one with dark hair and one with light brown, almost blonde hair.

“They're so cute, how old are they?” you ask taking the phone in your hands to get a better look as he swipes showing different clips from what looks like a trip to the aquarium.

“11, thats mimiko and nanako usually they are here with me but they are with uncle Satoru for the summer making his pockets hurt as they say and spending time with their little cousin megumi” he tells you before he stops sliding landing on a picture of him satoru the twins and a dark spikey haired little boy that looks angry at Satoru.

“He looks like he absolutely hates satoru” you giggle resting your head back on his thigh which earns a laugh from him.

“Despises him, actually thinks Satoru is so annoying but he loves him… deep deep deep down inside his tiny little body since he adopted him. We knew his dad… real piece of shit actually” Suguru admits using a bit more force on your hair, its not painful but you could tell he hated Megumi's dad more than Megumi hated Satoru. 

“You must've had them really young” you pry slightly which he snorts at before using the comb to detangle a section of your hair and adding in more product. 

“No, I met them at an old job. They were in a bad environment and I took them in. I just couldn’t watch them go through that horrible system it's not a place for innocent little girls” he tells you his touch becoming so featherlite you almost forget he's doing your hair 

“Yeah it makes sense you are such a girl dad. Definitely dilf material” you ramble going back to look at the pictures zooming in on how happy the girls look.

His eyes widen and breath gets caught in his throat he nearly has to stop what he's doing to focus on you again.

“Dilf? At Least take me out to dinner first”he jokes trying to calm his heart before you lean your head back once more making eye contact with him.

“How about the new family owned restaurant you told me about? You could even bring the girls I’d love to meet them” you smile at him watching the blush build on his face.

“R-really?” He stutters, not expecting you to ask him out on a date… shit was it a date?

“Yeah they seem to play an important role in your life and I need to make a good impression on them as well… I mean unless I’ve been taking your staring, heated looks and your kind offer to wash my hair the wrong way?” You tease with a sly smirk and he can feel the flush running through his entire body.

“Oh so you've just been letting me embarrass myself in front of you… this entire time” he exaggerates, holding a hand over his mouth in faux shock.

“I thought it was cute” you shrug watching his reactions before he tilts your head back forward using neck cramps as an excuse.

“Hey suguru?” You yawn, leaning your head back against his thigh and it was just the perfect head rest as his fingers began massaging through your scalp again.

“Yes sweetheart?” He asks slowing down for a second and you begin enjoying, a bit too much, the way he sounds calling you that.

“Thank you for washing my hair and styling it” you smile closing your eyes and shoulders dropping slightly and he grins at the signs of you falling asleep. He's seen it too often with the twins but he had to admit he may have been enjoying this more than you, acts of service being his love language that much was clear.

“Anything for you”