#these women are fucking gorgeous are you actually kidding

[multifandominfj]

I’m gonna need 7-10 business to recover because WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?! Alba forever being in “yeah, I’m a sexy bitch” mode while Marta is giving golden retriever energy.

How are these women even remotely real?! 😮‍💨🪭🤤

[joelsgoldrush]

“give me the first taste” | 10k

logan howlett x f!reader

part 2 of “GUILTY PLEASURE”

"Your hungry flirt borders intrusion / And I'm building memories on things we have not said / Full is not heavy as empty, not nearly, my love / Give me the first taste / Let it begin, heaven cannot wait forever / Darling, just start start the chase, I'll let you win." The First Taste by Fiona Apple

SUMMARY: From the moment you first laid eyes on Logan, you knew he was a tough nut to crack. But if there’s one thing you love, it’s a challenge. As your relationship grows, you’re determined to show him that, in this universe, he can also be loved.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ fluff. angst. drinking. dirty talk. slow-burnish. age-gap (reader is 25). once again wade saves the day. domestic!logan. soft dom!logan. logan calls reader “kid”. they watch (500) days of summer. oral sex (f and m receiving). fingering. thigh riding. thumb sucking. throat fucking. multiple orgasms. unprotected p in v. creampie (i would say i’m sorry but i’d be lying)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: jeez. hi guys!!! hope you’re doing alright. this is the 2nd part to “guilty pleasure.” writing for these two has been a total rollercoaster, but god was it worth it. as i always tell you, english isn’t my first language, so if you come across any mistake and you feel like letting me know, there’s no problem. thank you so much for all the support you’ve been giving my posts. i’m happy strangers out there take the time to read my silly stories :)

A girl and a mutant walk into an apartment…

Actually, you’re still trying to come up with the rest of the joke. But one thing’s true: Logan’s about to set foot in your place.

You curse under your breath, putting both your hands to work as you struggle to open the door. “Fucking swollen wood. I hate humidity,” you mutter, glancing back at Logan, who frowns as you keep trying different maneuvers to get the door to function properly.

It’s a shitty situation overall. And having that gorgeous man practically glued to your back isn’t helping in any way. You can tell he wants to give you a hand, but you’re not having it—women in STEM or something of the sort.

“May I—” he starts, though you cut him off before he can finish.

“I’ve got this. Just need to—” you say, ramming your shoulder into the door with enough force to make it finally give away. Almost stumbling over the carpet but managing to catch yourself, you sigh in relief. Meanwhile, Logan stands still, scrutinizing you until you gesture for him to enter. “Welcome to the smallest apartment in New York City. It's nothing fancy, but it’s got everything you need for a comfortable stay on a budget. Make yourself at home!”

Logan narrows his eyes, the tiniest smirk playing on his lips before stepping inside. Each of his movements seems to be premeditated as he tosses his jacket onto the couch, surveying the room. A portrait of when you were a kid, probably six or seven years old, catches his attention. He tilts his head, picking up the picture to examine it more closely, and then flashes you a lopsided grin. “How cute.”

“Well, I’ve changed a lot,” you take the picture from his hands, returning it to the shelf where he had gotten it from. 

“Well,” he echoes, mocking your tone, “your beauty certainly hasn’t.”

His eyes bore into you as you meet his gaze. What amazes you most is that he’s being completely honest. In a heartbeat, you look away, wondering what’s gotten into you. Usually, you’re not this awkward—you’ve learned how to take compliments over the years, knowing how to smile just right, to flutter your eyelashes. To blush and giggle in command. Those were the tools that helped you to survive countless first dates—your dearest aces up your sleeve.

There’s no use denying that they remained just that: first, failed dates. You hope you never have to go back to dating apps after this.

“Are you hungry? ‘Cause I’m starving,” you say, trying to walk away from him, although he’s faster, catching your hand in his. 

“Hey,” he urges you to make eye contact with him, his voice perplexingly soft. “Is everything okay?”

You nod so vigorously that you nearly strain your neck. “I’m fine, I swear. I just never get past this point.”

Inching closer, he presses his lips together for a split second, his brows furrowing in confusion. “You lost me there.”

“Guys who come into my apartment don’t tend to call back,” you admit, a flush creeping up your face, cheeks getting hotter. “I happen to believe it’s a curse, though I’ve kissed, like, a hundred toads so far and it still won’t break.”

“So y’think you’re gonna scare me off,” he raises an eyebrow, grinning. His rough fingers become gentle as they tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s sweet. Should be the other way around.”

Wow. You two are a match made in heaven.

As you detach yourself from his embrace and head to the kitchen, you decide to look for something edible in the fridge, finding different trays of food from days ago, none of which look appetizing or suitable for feeding the Tin Woodman standing behind you.

All of a sudden, the unmistakable metallic sound of Logan’s claws unsheathing rings in your ears, forcing you to spin around. The image that unfolds before you is peculiar, to say the least: he’s cornering your cat against the door.

Why is he about to fight a cat?

“Please don’t kill him?” you take a step in his direction and scoop the little ball of white fur into your arms. Logan stares at both of you, eyes squinted and brows knitted. “I’m sure he’s the cutest feline you’ve ever seen. Have mercy on him.”

“I didn’t know you had a cat.”

“Earnest wasn’t aware of your existence either,” you reply, scratching along the animal’s back. He purrs beside your neck, his yellowish eyes never leaving Logan’s. “Earnest, this is Logan. He has claws just like you.”

“Don’t you dare compare me to that,” Logan warns you, retracting his claws with a sigh. You can’t help but wonder if he ever feels tranquil, at peace. “Y’know, you’ve doomed him to bad fortune with that name. Is he at least toilet trained?”

“Are you hating on The Importance of Being Earnest?” you ask, expecting a retort, though apparently the play’s title doesn’t ring a bell for him. “Oscar Wilde?”

“Who do you think you’re talkin’ to, kid?”

Now’s your time to roll your eyes, setting the cat down and letting it run away. He likes to hide in the bathroom—don’t ask why, because not even you know the answer to that. You flick your gaze up back to Logan, placing your hands on your hips. “See, you gave him trust issues.”

“He’ll survive. Don’t they have seven lives?”

This is the perfect conversation to have with someone who just ate you out thirty minutes ago: how many lives do cats have. Jesus.

At some point, Logan flops onto the couch, stretching out. You shudder as you hear him crack his neck, the popping sound getting on your nerves. He pats the empty side of the sofa, spreading his thighs until he’s almost taking up all the space. “Come here.”

Putting aside all your thoughts, you accept the invitation. You sit down, motionless, and his arm grazes the cushion behind your head, pulling you closer to him. You rest your cheek on his chest, letting out a deep sigh, one that you’ve been holding in since you got to the apartment. Is it possible that he knows you craved this? This proximity, this kind of affection. To be held—it’s been your only wish for months. He drums his fingers on your shoulder blades, then starts rubbing your back ever so lightly.

Far from dozing off, you feel alive.

It’s hard not to lose track of time and space when you find yourself immersed in the warmth he offers, and that’s when you realize how deeply you’re falling for this man. “Logan?” the mere thought of asking him what’s been on your mind terrifies you. The last thing you want is to ruin things—or whatever it is that you have. He hums, a low, heavy sound in his throat, indicating you to continue. “I have a question.”

“Ask away.”

You lift your face from his chest and look him in the eye. The city’s still alive outside, with music and chatter sneaking in through the window. Everything seems to be perfect, and you wish you could stay like this—just staring at him as if he were a painting in a museum, and you the critic who can’t stop writing articles about its beauty.

Okay, that was… weirdly specific. 

Logan tries to hide his smile as you peck his lips repeatedly. For a moment, you almost forget what you were going to ask him in the first place. But then he’s ready to listen, and you a wave of nausea washes over you.

“I know that we came here to… engage in adult practices.”

“Fucking, you mean.”

“I didn’t want to be that straightforward, but yeah,” you say, shaking your head as to rearrange your thoughts. “Would you mind if we stayed like this?” to emphasize your point, you kick your shoes off and put your legs on top of his lap. He observes the whole sequence without daring to utter a word. “Don’t get me wrong. I’d love to try that too. I truly do. But… right now, all I want is to cuddle,” he’s still silent, making you even more nervous. “I’m sorry. Is that okay with you?”

His whole body engulfs yours, your cheek coming to rest once again in its original position. You can feel the rhythmic beating of his heart, each breath he takes, the air he exhales dampening your nape. Logan peppers your neck with chaste kisses before pressing his lips to your temple. His voice comes out strained, partially muffled by your hair. “Who do you take me for, huh?” he’s right there, beside your ear, fucking everywhere. There isn’t a single centimeter of your exposed skin that he isn’t touching, marking as his. You don’t give him an answer, in part because you’re unsure of what to say. He takes your silence as a cue to keep talking. “Let me take you to bed.”

“I can walk on my own.”

“I know,” he mutters, standing up with you in his arms, one arm beneath your knees and the other one under your shoulders. Logan’s not used to being this cautious, this patient with someone he’s known for less than two weeks. You see it in his eyes when he lets his guard down—something that has cracked, a shell that’s been broken.

As he places you gently on top of the covers, he lingers for a moment, crouching beside the bed and searching for your lowered gaze. His fingers are warm as he tilts your chin up. “I didn’t come here just to have sex with you. That was a possibility, of course—but it’s not the main reason why I’m here,” he rasps, words accompanied by the light brush of his lips against yours for a quick, brief kiss. “I care about you. A lot. I’m fine with whatever we do as long as I get to be close to you,” he grabs your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He then goes back to his usual bossy self, his demeanor changing. “And I don’t want to hear you apologizing for not wanting to have sex ever again. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now you’re making jokes?”

“I can’t have serious conversations,” you confess, observing the look of pure confusion on his face. “It’s true. I once spoke at a funeral and they cut me off forty seconds into my speech.”

Logan laughs at your sudden confession, his eyes crinkling at the edges. Rising to his feet, he begins to unbutton his flannel, pausing after the first few buttons are undone, waiting for your approval. “Do you want me to stay tonight?” 

“If that’s what you want.”

“It is what I want.”

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

His words don’t hide any real threat—that you know.

You stifle your laughter, shedding your clothes. Instead of going to the bathroom to change, you toss your work clothes carelessly to the floor, opting for an old pair of pajamas that are the complete opposite of sexy. They surely have seen better days.

Logan’s eyes trail over you, taking his time to analyze the faded lettering on your wrinkled shirt. “Keep calm and eat pizza?” he reads aloud.

“Hey. I bought it when I was seventeen.”

“You could use a new wardrobe.”

“Well, what about you?” you tease, toying with his belt. “You’re gonna sleep like this in my bed?”

“Can’t wait for me to get my shirt off, huh?” he grins, that all-too-familiar smile on his lips.

You play along, folding your arms over your chest. “You think so highly of yourself.”

Without breaking eye contact, Logan unbuckles his jeans, letting them pool around his ankles. He then shrugs off his flannel, leaving him in just his briefs and vest. You scan his body, and the room suddenly feels a hundred degrees hotter, the air between you thickening. Logan notices your reaction, chuckling. “Don’t get too excited. This is all you’re getting today.”

“I think I’ve already heard that before.”

“Kid.”

You raise your hands in surrender, showing him your palms and mouthing ’sorry’. Approaching your bed, you pull back the covers and slip into it. When you see Logan still standing there, you frown. “Where are your manners? Come here. I’m very impatient.”

He grumbles something under his breath, but he doesn’t make you wait long. He proceeds to get under the sheets beside you, occupying that side of the bed that’s always been empty. As you both settle in, facing each other, you can’t help but giggle, your contagious laugh getting to him. “What now?”

“You’re beautiful,” you whisper, tracing the bridge of his nose with your index finger, a featherlight touch that has him closing his eyes. In the soft glow of the night, with the city’s distant sounds filtering in, he looks breathtaking. “I mean it.”

“Do you have an off switch?”

“I’m… not sure. Let’s find out tomorrow.”

“You need to sleep,” he pulls you onto his chest with firm but gentle hands. He intertwines his legs with yours, holding you close.

“Wait. I have a game to play.”

“It’s late.”

“Please?”

He sighs. “Okay.”

“We have to make confessions until we fall asleep.” 

“You just want to talk—that doesn’t even qualify as a game.”

“It does in this universe,” you reply, feeling his chest rumble with a chuckle as you settle more comfortably against him. “I’ll start: remember the first night you came to the bar?” he hums in acknowledgment. “It wasn’t Burger Night. We don’t serve food. I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

He kisses the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. “I knew. You don’t have a kitchen down there, baby,” he falls silent, taking his time to come up with a confession of his own. “I have a fear of flying.”

“Really? You, of all people?”

“I wasn’t expecting to be judged.”

“Oh, don’t be such a crybaby,” you tease, burying your face further into the crook of his shoulder, inhaling his scent. He shivers slightly where your nose touches his skin. “I like you. It’s kind of scary, and I’m sure saying something like this probably goes against the rules of dating 101, but I do. I feel safe with you, like—like this is where I’m supposed to be.”

Almost as if the pieces of the puzzle finally fit together, you think to yourself, though the words stay unspoken.

You’ve come to learn that Logan’s not a man of many words—he’s more of the “show, don’t tell” kind of guy. So when he makes you lift your face, you’re not surprised by the way he kisses you: hungrily. Passionately, like a starved man at an all-you-can-eat buffet. A soft whimper gets lost somewhere in your throat as his tongue makes its way into your mouth, languidly stroking yours.

“We didn’t brush our teeth,” you whisper against his lips, laughing when he groans in exasperation.

“You love having the final say, don’t you?”

“I’m being serious, Logan. Cavities are a real issue for me.”

“You can always get new teeth.”

“But my morning breath—”

“It’ll stink anyway, and so will mine,” he responds, taking a deep breath and clearing his throat once he settles into his ideal sleep position. “Good night.”

“Night,” you murmur, nuzzling your cheek against his neck. Despite your efforts to ignore it, being cradled like this feels incredible. You can’t believe you went twenty-five years without it.

Just as you’re about to drift off, curiosity strikes. “Can you get tattoos?”

“Bub, I was actually falling asleep.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry,” you mumble, feeling a bit sheepish.

More silence.

“Logan?”

“Hmm?”

“What was the Great Depression like?”

“Fuck me,” he mutters, his voice gruff as he shifts lightly. “It was fine. Now go to sleep.”

And you do, but not for long. An abrupt coldness wakes you up, eyes wide open, feeling disoriented. It’s still pitch black outside, far quieter than when you first fell asleep. The clock on your nightstand reads it’s 3:17 am, though it feels like you’ve only been in bed for five minutes.

Then you see him—he’s twitching in his sleep on the far side of the bed, his painful grunts reaching your ears. Most of what he says is unintelligible, but there’s one word he keeps repeating over and over again without fail: “No.”

You don’t usually have nightmares. What’s the best way to wake someone from one? You’re still thinking when he starts mumbling again, his voice thick with distress, and now he’s throwing his arms in the air as if he were fighting off something—or someone—in his dreams.

Pressing your hands to his cheeks, you attempt to hold his face steady. He clenches his fists, his breath quickening the more he battles whatever’s haunting him. “Logan,” you whisper at first, subtly shaking his shoulders, but his eyebrows stay furrowed, deep in his nightmare. This time, you tighten your grip, fully sitting on top of him. “Logan. Logan! Wake up!”

Without warning, you’re on your back, pinned against the mattress. Logan’s straddling your hips, caging you in with his body, the weight of his adamantium skeleton pressing down. Your hands are trapped beneath his, and you watch as he clenches his jaw, teeth bared in a way that looks painful. His eyes are so dark and wild you barely recognize him, prominent veins throbbing in his neck with each labored breath he takes.

“Logan,” your own voice sounds unnatural, forced, as you do your best to bring him back to reality. “It’s me. You’re alright.”

That seems to get through him. Logan stares at you in disbelief, his eyes softening as they take in your terrified expression. He abruptly pulls away, retreating to the nearest wall. He’s gasping for air, slamming his eyes shut, his legs trembling. The only sound you can hear is his rapid breathing. You get up from the bed, taking a step in his direction, but you don’t manage to go any further since he stops you with a shout.

“Stay right there!” he’s growling, pointing his finger at you. “I’m serious. Don’t come any closer.”

“Logan…”

“Please, no!” his voice increases in pitch, not being able to meet your eyes. “Please. Just stay there.”

You comply, not wanting to upset him any further. Sitting back on your knees, you try to appear calm. A man so strong, capable of things you can’t even understand. A weapon turned against himself now stands before you, pushing you away as if his presence were poisonous. He slumps to the floor, the fabric of his vest soaked with sweat.

Once he’s fully conscious, you cautiously crawl toward him, watching his every move. On a random day, this might have been funny for both of you, but right now, there’s no room for laughter. Logan shakes his head, his shoulders tensing when you reach out to hug him, wrapping your arms around his broad frame. It takes him a couple of minutes, but eventually, his body sags against yours. For a while, neither of you speaks. You just thread your fingers through his hair, hoping the closeness will help soothe him. “Feeling better?” you whisper in the shell of his ear, and he pulls back to look you in the eye. You caress his cheek, his stubble rough against your skin. “Welcome back.”

“I’m sorry,” it’s the first thing he says, covering your hand with his. One by one, he kisses your knuckles, still shaking his head. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“You had a nightmare—it’s not like you could control it.”

“But I could’ve hurt you,” he says, lowering his gaze to your wrists, where his fingerprints have left their mark. “God. I’m so sorry. I have to go.”

“Wait!” you grab his arm, your mouth setting in a hard line, stopping him from leaving. “Don’t run away from me, not now. Don’t push me away, Logan.”

“I could’ve done something much worse.”

“But you didn’t. It was a nightmare, baby. You didn’t know,” you kiss his forehead, hoping to talk some sense into him. “Please, stay. Let’s try to get some more sleep.”

“What if—”

You hold his face close to yours, your noses brushing. “You won’t hurt me.” 

This time, he lets you keep him close, the roles now reversed. You can see him fighting his exhaustion, not wanting to fall asleep. But the more you play with his hair, the harder it is for him to stay awake.

“I’m alright,” he says, seemingly reading your mind. It’s hard to tell whether he’s reassuring you or himself.

“I know,” you knead his shoulder, aiming to ease the tension knotted there. “You better sleep, or I might start rambling again.”

A faint, tired hum escapes him, at long last allowing his eyes to close. “I like hearing you talk,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your collarbone, drifting off soon after that.

You continue to hug him, feeling the weight of his body gradually relax against yours as his breathing evens out. The room is quiet, but your mind is far from it: a tornado of emotions swirls within you—concern, relief, love, and something else you can’t quite decipher. It isn’t until sleep finally claims you too that your brain stops going a hundred kilometers an hour.

The most surreal Sunday night of your whole life.

“So… when will you let me see Lolo again?”

Wade’s question makes you stop mid-pour, flicking your eyes between the drink and him. A few seats away, you hand a glass to Adam. Returning to where Wade’s currently sitting, you dry your hands on your apron. “Why are you even here?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, and he gives half a shrug. “Last time I checked, I wasn’t holding him against his will.”

“He’s been crashing at your place almost every night. You have your own methods, woman,” he raises one finger, then quickly adds another, pointing at your shirt. “Two methods, in fact.”

At that, you laugh mirthlessly, shaking your head with a grin. “I’m surprised anyone would willingly date you.”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he retorts, taking a tentative sip of his beer and leaning back in his chair.

You glance at him while you wipe down the bar, looking for something to occupy your hands. “He’s not my boyfriend—yet.”

Wade mimics a punch in his chest, just where his heart’s supposed to be, though you’re starting to question whether he has one. His lips form a small, exaggerated pout. “That must hurt, doll. You got yourself into a situationship with a goddamn fossil. Good luck getting out of that.”

“It’s not that bad,” you say, rolling your eyes. “We’re cool this way. There’s absolutely no need for a title.”

“Okay, let’s rehearse that one more time because you look like you’re about to cry,” he lifts an eyebrow, drawing nearer. “You want the title, right?”

“I don’t.”

He props his chin on his hand, laughing at you. “Yes, you do. You can’t fool me.”

“I said I don’t.”

“I said I don’t,” he mocks you, kicking his legs and puckering his lips.

You can’t help but throw the towel down on the counter with irritation, giving in. “Okay! Of course, I want the fucking title.”

“There she is!” he exclaims, throwing his hands up in a triumphant gesture. “Glad we’re speaking the truth now,” he tilts his head to the side, noticing your sudden silence. “Hey, drop the long face. I’m sure he’s been thinking about it. In order to understand Logan, I usually compare him to elders over ninety.”

“Why would you do that?” you ask, your tone a mix of mild annoyance and curiosity.

“Just think about it! Senior citizens didn’t date for too long in the past. They’d go straight from strangers to lovers. Take my grandparents, for example: in the span of one year, they met at a party, then got married, and had five kids. Do you really want to have a litter of Logan’s grumpy, hairy puppies?”

“Wade, that’s not even possible.”

“The point is,” he continues, finishing his beer and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “Logan’s rusty in this area, alright? I’d bet a thousand dollars he probably dated Cleopatra.”

“How did you pass History in high school?”

“I never graduated, but keep that between us,” he lifts his shoulders, shrugging. He spins the empty bottle, contemplating his next words. “You should tell him how you feel and what you want. That’s what works best for Vanessa and me. It’s easier that way—you can’t expect him to just guess.”

You wrap your arms around yourself. “I just wish he’d realize it on his own.”

“Well, sometimes you need to give the other person a bit of guidance. I’m just laying out the basics of a relationship here. Did your parents hate each other or something?”

The irony of it all. “They got divorced when I was little.” 

“Oh, god,” Wade sighs, rubbing his temples before glancing at you. “Let me get this straight: Mommy and Daddy weren’t exactly the poster children for love. And you also happen to be a bartender. Anything else, honey? Please tell me you’re at least getting laid, because otherwise, I’m going to feel tremendously sorry for you and your mental health.”

Just then, you hear your name being called. Smiling at Wade, you mumble: “Saved by the bell.” Once you’re back from taking some orders, Wade jumps to his feet, coming around the counter to hug you.

“Dude, what’s the matter with you?” you ask, loosely returning the hug. 

“You’re a fucking survivor,” he whispers in your ear, genuinely sounding concerned. “I don’t know how you do it—you seem so put together. I would’ve lost it by now. A life without sex sounds awful.”

“Jesus, Wade! Get off!” you stretch your arm to punch him in the back, earning a groan from him. “Back to your seat, gentleman. I certainly don’t need your pity.”

“I’m a certified sexologist. Your secret’s safe with me,” he declares with a smirk, gesturing to his empty beer. “But first, I’m gonna need more of this tasty apple juice.”

“I hope you’ve got some cash on you,” you say, getting him another beer. “Why do I get the feeling Logan would kill us if he knew we’re talking about this?”

“Isn’t that what makes it even better?”

Swaying on your feet, you scrunch your nose, momentarily lost in thought. “He won’t let me touch him. I don’t know if it’s me that does something wrong. We do have our… moments, but he takes care of himself. And usually in the bathroom.”

Wade goes white in front of you. “How long has this been going on?”

“Over a month.”

“Oh. That’s bad, like, really bad.”

“Thanks! I’ll be sleeping on the highway tonight. You can always join me.”

“Doll, it’s nothing that can’t be fixed, alright?” he waves his hand dismissively, then sets his palms flat on the counter. “I know I’m starting to sound like a broken record, but talking to him is your best bet. This isn’t something you can just brush under the carpet. You’re like a goddamn radio—put it to good use.”

Just as you’re about to reply, you spot Logan entering the bar. You raise a hand in greeting, waving at him. He meets your gaze and smiles briefly, and so your eyes drift to Wade’s, shooting him a warning look. “If you keep this to yourself, I won’t charge you for today,” you mutter through gritted teeth, to which he answers by pretending to zip his mouth closed.

Logan takes a seat next to him, ignoring his presence. Instead, he focuses entirely on you. “Hey, kid.”

“Hey, homey.”

“Hiya, Wade,” Wade greets himself with a mock cheer, patting his own back, which makes you laugh. He turns to Logan and his whole face lights up. “I’m afraid to tell you I can’t sleep when you’re not around.”

Logan rolls his eyes. “Get your shit together.”

“You’re the worst roommate ever! Can’t believe you got yourself a girl and completely forgot about your bro,” Wade murmurs under his breath, just as his phone rings. “Thank God. I’ve got to go. My love nugget’s calling,” he announces, heading for the door. Before leaving, Wade blows the two of you a kiss. “I hate you both, but I also love you. Peace out, my friends!”

Logan and you exchange glances. “He’s a funny guy, isn’t he?”

“You could say that,” he replies, leaning in to kiss you on the lips. Logan intends to deepen the kiss, but you pull away after a couple of seconds. He frowns, clearly confused. “That’s how you greet me?”

You bite your lip, trying to suppress a giggle. “My tip jar is practically empty, and I hate to say it, but it’s your fault.”

“Do you want me to say I’m sorry?”

“Oh, no.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m not,” he plants a quick kiss on your cheek, making you smile. “You have classes tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, at 9 am,” you almost grunt, not feeling too enthusiastic about it. “I’m gonna need your help. I can’t sleep through my alarm, okay? The professor said tomorrow’s class is an important one. Midterms are right around the corner, and I can’t take the liberty of failing them.”

“That won’t happen,” he assures you, and you believe him. “I can be of help, don’t worry. You won’t oversleep.”

Oh, Logan. Sweet, lying Logan.

Turns out you ended up oversleeping. Twenty-five years on this earth, and you still haven’t learned not to trust a man, even if his puppy-dog eyes silently beg you to do otherwise. The thing is—you love them. You love men. And you’re especially fond of the one currently sleeping in your bed.

The first rays of sunshine hit your face, waking you up. You attempt to raise a hand to shield your eyes, but moving any limbs feels like a Herculean task. A warm body is pressed against your back, one veiny arm draped over your stomach. Logan remains fast asleep behind you, his steady breathing succeeding in making you feel at ease. You reach back, running your fingers through his messy hair, and he grumbles in his sleep, instinctively pulling you closer.

What a nice, domestic morning. Yep, you’re getting used to this. And nope, you don’t regret it, not even in the slightest bit.

Though there must be a mistake, because you’re preeeeetty sure you had something important to do. 

Oh. You have classes. Had—past tense.

You reach for your nightstand, blindly groping for your phone. The charger is lying on the floor, the plastic of it all damaged. Perhaps Earnest had chewed on it while you were sleeping? You gently pry Logan’s arm off you, sitting up, and your bleary eyes land on something barely peeking out from under the bed.

It’s your fucking phone. The screen is completely shattered, with three distinct holes in the middle of it. Three holes, how strange! You can’t help but wonder who might have left them. Clutching your pillow, you whack Logan in the face with it. “Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty!”

He groans, trying to take the pillow away from you. “What the fuck is wrong with you, kid?”

“I wish I had a UNO reverse card because I should be the one asking you that!” you jab your finger into his chest, showing him the ruined phone. “You broke my fucking phone!”

“What?” he asks, voice laden with sleep, still disoriented. He holds the phone, carefully scrutinizing it. “I think I don’t know how to hit the snooze button.”

“No shit, Sherlock. I believe you’ve made that very clear,” you huff, tossing the phone aside as you flop back onto the mattress. The clock on your nightstand says 11:05 am, and you cover your face with your hands, taking a deep breath. “Next time, when it goes off, just wake me up and I’ll do it.”

Logan settles beside you, resting his head on his forearm as he watches you. “I’m sorry, bub. I’ll get you a new one.”

“It’s fine,” you murmur, sighing. This is your free ticket to be a menace. “I should’ve known dinosaurs and phones would never get along. My bad, pal.”

You don’t even get to see his reaction because he starts tickling you, the room filling with your laughter. Squealing, you try to wriggle away, but his fingers dig into your ribs, expertly finding your most ticklish spots. Your giggles escalate into breathless laughter, your eyes squeezed shut as you desperately attempt to push him away. He’s relentless, chuckling when his own laughter bubbles up. 

“L-logan, stop!” you gasp between fits of laughter, aiming to grasp his hands.

“We dinosaurs love tickling people. Sorry, sweetheart,” he manhandles you until you’re perched on his lap, fisting the fabric of your (his) shirt. Leaning forward, he captures your mouth in a heated kiss. “I’m sorry about the phone,” he slurs the words against your cheek, his lips trailing down to your neck. You tell him that it’s okay, trying to find a comfortable position on top of him, and that’s when his thigh presses against your core, your eyes widening at the unexpected sensation. Logan’s no fool, noticing the way your breath hitches. “What’s wrong, baby? You woke up needy?”

“No, I just—” you trail off as he does it again, his strong thigh coming in contact with your clothed cunt. You search for leverage by placing your hands on his shoulders, glancing at him. “Logan.”

“I’m all ears,” he rests his back against the headboard, the tent in his boxers impossible to ignore. “You want to get off on my thigh,” he states with certainty. It’s not a question—it’s a full-on statement. He knows what you want, what you crave. “Come on then. Grind against it.”

You do as he says, not caring to think twice. You start moving, rubbing your wet pussy against his muscular thigh. The friction sends jolts of pleasure through you, and soon, you’re whimpering his name, your hands trailing down his abs. Why hadn’t you tried this before? It feels fucking amazing.

From his position, Logan stares at you, his lips slightly parted, eyes clouded with lust. Your arousal drenches your panties, soaking through them, the fabric clinging to his coarse leg hair. He glances down at the mess you’re making, his grin widening as he takes in the sight. “Goddamn, woman. I’m gonna make you clean it off, I swear to God.”

“Need your help,” you whisper, lowering your head, the heat in your cheeks intensifying. The coil tightening inside you is almost unbearable. A kiss is what you lean in for, desperate for more, though Logan appears to have other plans. He fists your hair, pulling at your nape and yanking your head back. The roughness of the movement pulls a moan from your lips, your mouth parched like a desert. 

“Eyes up here, okay? You look at me when I make you come,” his raspy voice makes you feel tingly, each word sending shivers down your spine. His hands fiercely grab the flesh of your hips, guiding you, helping you grind harder against his thigh. You think you’re on the verge of drooling when you catch the way his abdomen flexes, working to push you toward that long-awaited release. “That’s it, there you go,” he rasps, relishing the sounds he’s eliciting from you, each of your gasps feeding his desire.

Time slows as the warmth in your belly finally erupts, your eyes fighting to stay open through the aftershocks of your orgasm. No actual words leave your mouth, just a string of whines and moans, some carrying Logan’s name. He swallows every single sound you make, everything you give him, grunting as your legs tremble and shake atop him.

He lets you collapse onto your back, your breathing gradually evening out. “I think I saw fireworks behind my lids,” you confess, your mouth dry, expecting Logan to flop onto the mattress beside you. But he doesn’t. Through your blurry vision, you contemplate as he positions himself between your parted legs, getting dangerously close to your cunt. “Logan, what are you— Oh, fuck,” you moan mid-sentence when you feel him pulling your panties aside to lick a slow strip through your folds, collecting your arousal. He points his tongue, dipping it into your entrance, and you wince, squirming. “Santa Claus, is that you?”

Logan grins against you, closing his mouth around clit for a moment. He then shifts until he’s eye-to-eye with you, two of his fingers sliding into you in one smooth motion. “Give me another one,” he murmurs, his other hand slipping under your shirt to play with your nipples, pinching them. 

You never imagined two fingers could bring such intense pleasure. You just lie there, taking it like a good girl, as Logan sometimes call you. “Please, I need you,” you cry out, your fingernails scraping against his torso.

“I know, darlin’. I’m right here,” he rasps against your temple, moving his fingers in and out of you with more enthusiasm. But what he doesn’t understand is that you need all of him. Your hands itch to touch him, to feel the weight of his cock. The corners of his mouth turn up as he watches you struggle to find words. “Wish you could see yourself like this. Such a pretty girl, so gorgeous like this,” his fingers keep grazing that bundle of joy deep inside you, and he goes in for a kiss, the sour taste of your slick invading your taste buds. “Tightest pussy I’ve ever had. Need to stretch you real good before fucking you with my cock.”

Bingo! That last sentence does it for you, and you come for the second time in the morning, your cunt clenching and spasming around his fingers. You hide your face in his neck, mouthing at his Adam’s apple. He hasn’t trimmed his beard in days, and it shows because you can now feel a burning sensation on the soft skin of your inner thighs.

“You’re allowed to break all my phones from now on,” you suggest, only to hear Logan’s laughter in your ear. He snakes a hand through your hair, shoving it back away from your face. You feel him kiss your sweaty forehead, and as you press yourself closer to his body, something hard nudges your hipbone.

Absentmindedly, you trace the waistband of his boxers with your index finger, your eyes snapping to his face. Logan freezes on the spot, and it’s almost as if he’s stopped breathing. Without a word, he rises from the bed, his movements sudden and almost mechanical. You watch him, puzzled, as he heads toward the bathroom, the intimacy of just moments ago being abruptly replaced by a dreadful silence.

“Logan, is everything okay? Do you need something?” you ask and he pauses at the bathroom door, his back to you. For a brief second, you think he might actually open up, but when he turns around, his expression is neutral, masking whatever thoughts are running through his mind. At last, he flashes you a quick smile.

“I’m fine,” he says, his tone gentle but distant. “Just gonna take a shower. Then we can have breakfast together, right?”

You nod, his words easing the growing sense of frustration gnawing at you. He disappears into the bathroom, and the sound of running water soon follows. You sink back into the bed, staring up at the ceiling. You take your pillow and bury your face in it, letting out a muffled groan. There’s something he isn't telling you, something hidden deep beneath his usual gruff exterior. Although you try to piece together the fragments of his behavior, they don’t quite fit.

The minutes drag on, and the sound of the shower becomes a distant, constant background noise. You close your eyes, visualizing your happy place, but your thoughts keep spiraling. All you can do is wait—wait for him to come back and act as if nothing had happened.

Logan’s right there, just a few feet away—yet in moments like these, he feels miles apart. It’s one of those days in which, no matter how hard you try, you can’t seem to bridge that distance. 

It had all started with you asking Logan “Have you ever watched (500) Days of Summer?”

Of course, he had refused to watch the movie at first, and of course, you had threatened him with phoning Wade to let him know that Logan wanted to have a sleepover. That had done the trick.

You had asked for a day off at the bar, and surprisingly, your boss hadn’t objected. That turn of events led to this moment: sprawled out on the couch with Logan, the two of you watching the final minutes of your favorite film. Logan takes a long drag of his cigar, eyes trained intently on the screen. He’s only wearing sweatpants, which had caused your attention to drift from the plot a few times. The fact that you managed to sit through the entire movie without needing to pause it makes you feel particularly invincible.

Hey.

You again.

Yeah. I, uh, was just wondering if maybe after this, if, um, you— you want to get some coffee or something.

Oh, I’m sorry. I’m sort of supposed to meet someone after this.

Okay.

“That poor fella,” Logan murmurs, taking a slow sip of his beer. You look up at him from where your head rests on his lap, a contented smile playing on your lips. His fingers absently stroke your hair.

“Just wait,” you say, pointing to the screen of your laptop.

Sure.

What’s that?

Why not?

Okay. Well, then I’ll just, uh— I’ll wait for you.

We— we’ll figure it out.

We’ll figure it out.

“They’ll figure it out!” you exclaim, but Logan quickly shushes you, his attention unwavering.

My name’s Tom.

Nice to meet you. I’m Autumn.

When the movie comes to an end, you’re met with Joseph Gordon-Levitt breaking the fourth wall, staring straight at the audience as if he knows he’s about to get himself into a mess with another girl named after a season. You sit up, your eyes eagerly searching for Logan’s. “So? Did you like it? I’ve watched it seven times now. Can’t understand how it gets better each time.”

Logan closes his mouth around his cigar, inhaling deeply before answering. “Yeah, it was pretty good,” he says, his hand finding your cheek, thumb brushing softly against your skin. “Summer’s a bitch, though.”

“I respectfully disagree,” you tell him, grabbing his beer and giving it a try, only to grimace at the taste. Shuddering, you set it back down. “Why don’t you like her character?”

“Well, for starters, she did Tom dirty. Played with him like he was a damn rag doll.”

You raise an eyebrow, hugging a cushion closer to your chest as you lean back into the couch. “He knew from the beginning she didn’t want to be his girlfriend. Summer was clear—Tom just though he was smart enough to change her mind.”

“They acted like boyfriend and girlfriend the whole movie,” he scorns, placing his cigar down into the ashtray with a bit more force than necessary.

Is your first argument going to be over a movie? Exciting.

“Logan, they weren’t even official.”

“But she made it seem like they were,” he insists, the frustration in his voice growing.

“They were in a situationship—the perfect example, really. That’s not the same as being a couple.”

His gaze dips to the floor, brows knitted in a deep frown. “I think you’re relying on the technicality that they never used those titles. I mean, they did everything together. Isn’t that what normal couples do?”

Lord have mercy.

“Logan, who am I to you?” you inquire, crossing your arms over your chest.

He hesitates, narrowing his eyes, the question clearly catching him off guard. “You are—what? I don’t understand. Is this some kind of mind game you’re playing?”

“It’s actually very simple: if someone were to ask you about me, what would you say? Am I a friend? A bartender?” you inch forward, holding your breath, your tone faltering slightly. Meanwhile, Logan’s hands tighten into fists at his sides. “A fling? Your girlfriend? You complain so much about Summer, yet you can’t even name what we have.”

The living room falls into a heavy silence. Logan blinks slowly, his forehead creasing as he processes your words. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because these are the kinds of conversations we need to have. I understand you don’t want to have them, but I do.”

“Fine. Then tell me what it is that you want,” he asks, his mouth snapping shut when he sees you snorting in response.

“I don’t— I don’t know! To know how you feel, if possible?” you stand up from the couch, taking the cushion with you. You grind your jaw, gnawing on your bottom lip. “Why is it that every time I try to touch you, you push me away?”

He scrunches up his face, mirroring your movements and rising from his seat. “Bub, can we please talk about this tomorrow—”

“No! You don’t get to make all the choices, that’s not fair. Deciphering you isn’t easy, Logan. I’m not asking you to tell me everything you’ve been through. I just wish I could know how you feel about me. I can’t stand in front of you and pretend I don’t mind where this is going, because I’m more than sure I’m falling in love with you. “

“You can’t. You shouldn’t,” he says, his expression hardening. He turns his back to you, running his hands over his face in frustration before heading to the kitchen.

“Well, what were you expecting?” you follow him into the kitchen, finding Earnest on top of the fridge, beholding the scene with a curious gaze. “You basically moved in here, gave me a free trial of what life with you might be like, and now you have the audacity to appear surprised when I tell you I’ve caught feelings?” salty tears start rolling down your cheeks, and you spread your arms wide in exasperation. “Oh, but you’re right. How could I’ve been this stupid, to fall for the damned Wolverine!” you laugh bitterly, expecting him to break eye contact, but he doesn’t. “You think you’re so bad, so broken. Guess what: you’re not, because I love you, and I couldn’t care less about your past. You may think you’re unlovable, but you’re not, you hear me?”

For a heartbeat, the world seems to pause. And so he says:

“You are the most exasperating person I know.”

“Wow. Thank you so much!” you retort, your voice dripping with sarcasm. You run a hand through your hair, infuriated. “That makes me feel better!”

“Let me do the talking now,” he says, taking long strides toward you, and the proximity makes you lower your head. “You’re not getting the final say today. Just because I’m not over-sharing my feelings all the time doesn’t mean I don’t have them! In fact, I do. I may not express them openly, but they exist. And I wish you could see inside my head! You’d be delighted at how much time I spend thinking about you,” you cackle at his words, rolling your eyes. His fingers grip your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “There hasn’t been a single moment since the day we met that I have stopped wanting you. Your voice is like a goddamn radio that, no matter what I do, I can’t turn off. It’s like I’m infected by you, and I hate it!” his eyes burn with a mix of anger and affectionpur, his pursed lips softening as he continues. “No good ever comes from caring this much about someone. So excuse me for being scared of ruining the only good thing that’s happened to me in years!”

You hit him with the cushion—not with enough force to make him hurt, but enough to make a point.

“Drop it, kid.”

“I’m—” you hit him again, “not—” and again, “stupid. I know what I’m getting myself into,” as you attempt to raise the cushion once more, Logan takes it from your hands, throwing it on the counter. Your shoulders sag, trying to find the strength to keep going. “And I know for a fact,” you add, glancing at his conflicted eyes, “that the easiest thing for me would be to walk away from you, but I can’t. It’s too fucking late.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I do! These are my feelings, okay? Mine, not yours. You don’t have the right to decide who I love and who I don’t.”

Logan’s eyes squint, scanning your face. “You’re… obnoxious.”

“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.”

“And I—I love you,” he confesses, his nostrils flaring with emotion. Opening your mouth to say something, you close it moments later, your gaze locked on his. “You could take what you said, pretend as if I didn’t exist, and I wouldn’t say a thing, y’understand? I would move cities if you asked me, because I love you that fucking much, and I want you to be happy.”

You reach for his hand, briefly intertwining your fingers with his. Looking at him through your eyelashes, you rub your fingers over his stubble. “And what if my happiness comes from being with you?”

Logan lets out a harsh breath, his arm curling around your waist, pressing his chest to yours. “I can’t promise I’ll be the perfect boyfriend. I’ll probably makeplenty of mistakes.”

“Fine with me.”

“And you’ll be mad at me. A lot.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll make sure it’s mutual.”

Both of you laugh then, and you’re taken aback when he brushes his nose against your cheek, silently seeking permission to kiss you. His lips move hungrily against yours, trailing his hands down your spine, pulling you closer. He breaks the kiss and laughs at your eagerness when you chase after his mouth. You end up perched on his lap as he settles into one of your kitchen chairs. Logan stares into your eyes, his gaze drifting lower. “I won’t push you away this time. Not anymore.”

That’s your cue to finally do what you’ve been yearning for weeks. You fall to your knees in front of him, shaky fingers that graze the hairs on his happy trail. The bulge in his sweatpants is close to your face, and your mouth waters at the thought of having him between your lips. “Can I?” you ask, your voice a touch higher. 

He draws a long breath, tilting his head slightly. “You may, baby.”

You pull at his sweatpants and boxers, sliding them down his legs just enough to free his hard cock. As you take a look at it, you find yourself at a loss for words, the sight overwhelming. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the first taste of his precum as you envelop his head between your lips, that musky scent of his hitting you.

A whimper escapes you, and Logan hisses when you run your tongue along the slit, his hands gripping the back of your neck tightly. “Fuck, darlin’. Thought about your mouth so many times, but never imagined it’d feel this good,” he cants his hips up, causing your movements to stutter. “You can take a bit more, can’t you?” his question ends with a guttural grunt, his fingers tightening on your hair. “Gotta show me how much you want this.”

Logan takes all that you give him. You lower your head further, taking in another inch of him. Sex’s supposed to feel good, but this? It feels even greater. And he’s not even inside you yet, you hear a voice murmur in your head. The hand on your nape encourages you to move faster, and you sneak a hand between your bodies, grasping him by the base. You swallow around him, eyes fluttering open when he tugs sharply at your hair..

“Thaaaat’s it, honey. Just like that, want you to choke on it,” he grumbles, running his mouth just the way you like. The tip of his cock nudges the back of your throat and tears fill your eyes. You pull away to catch your breath, still stroking him as you regain composure. Logan’s gaze is intense, and he stares into your soul, his chest heaving. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Dick got your tongue?”

You’ll definitely get back to that joke later.

“Will you—can you—”

“Come on, beautiful. I don’t have all day.”

God, you love it when he’s mean.

“Fuck my throat,” you plead, your voice barely above a whisper.

A smile dangles on the corner of his lips. “We both know you can be nicer.”

The fucker makes your pulse race. “Can you fuck my throat?” you ask again, more insistently. “Please.”

He guides himself into your mouth, smirking as he watches how your eyes roll back in pleasure. “How polite of you to say please. Some good manners you’ve got.”

You whimper around him, your body responding to the rhythm he sets, fully immersed in the intensity of the moment. And for a while, you drift away, losing your sanity with each thrust of his hips, every tug at your hair. It’s almost impossible not to compare him to your past hookups. You try to recall at least a single instance when another man made you feel this way, but no memory surfaces.

Time seems to stretch and warp. You don’t really know when it happens—he pulls you off his cock, cradling your face, examining you. “You fucking love that, don’t you?” he asks with that sweet, syrupy voice, brushing away your tears. There’s no room left for embarrassment, so you nod, closing your mouth around his thumb. Defeated, Logan shakes his head, pressing his finger against your tongue. “I was planning on coming on your mouth, but I think I’ve got a better idea.”

In the blink of an eye, you’re in your bedroom. Not even a metaphor—he picks you up and basically runs to your room, closing the door behind him. You prop yourself on your forearms, trying to process what’s about to happen. Logan, already naked, climbs onto the bed after you, He kisses you slowly, tracing the curves of your body. “You still want this?”

“I do. I’m just… nervous, that’s all,” you admit, flashing him a quick smile. “It’s been two years of celibacy for me. Will it fit?” you ask, glancing down at his cock, and Logan stares at you in confusion. “Also, how many girlfriends have you had? Just curious.”

“I don’t think this is the time for that conversation.”

“You’re right,” you agree, lying back on the mattress, bracing yourself for what’s to come. “Were they pretty?”

“Bub.”

“Yes?”

“Shut up,” he replies with a smirk. “Focus on me, okay?”

Despite your tries to crack jokes at the worst possible moment, things escalate pretty quickly. Logan’s got three fingers inside you, pumping them in and out. He’s already made you come once with his mouth—to get you more relaxed, he had said. Wanting sounds slip past your lips as he doesn’t miss the chance to hit that spot that makes you squeeze your legs together. The tip of his nose drags long lines up and down the skin of your neck, mouthing at your jaw.

“I’m ready,” you mumble after some minutes, reaching for his cock and stroking him. “Let’s break the bed.”

“You’re lucky you’re this cute,” he says, catching your lips in a kiss. “Condom?”

“Negative, Sergeant.”

“You don’t have any?”

You shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek. “I don’t want you to use one.”

The way his gaze darkens doesn’t go unnoticed by you. His hand guides your face toward his cock. “Get me wet,” he commands, and you oblige, sucking him into your mouth. You hum around him, unable to contain yourself, and you hear Logan chuckling above you. “Can’t believe this is what it takes for you to shut up. Gotta keep your mouth full all the time.”

Once he’s satisfied with the way you’ve slicked him, he positions himself over you, caging you between his arms. Logan pins you down with his body, his hot breath mingling with yours. When you stare into his eyes, all you see is pure love, and your heart swells with affection. “Will you fuck the bad jokes out of me?”

Logan laughs, rubbing his length along your folds, grazing your clit for a fleeting second. “I sure as hell will,” he assures you, lining himself up with your wet entrance. He looks into your eyes for approval. “Ready?”

“I was born rea— Fuck!” you nearly scream as his head breaches you, your eyes squeezing shut. Turns out his fingers weren’t enough. “Fucking mutant dick.”

“You’ll love it, believe me,” he husks next to your ear. His arms shake where they rest on each side of your head, seemingly as affected as you are. Logan pulls out, and then fucks into you with a little more force.  “How are you still so tight? You’re killin’ me here.”

“I’ve got no idea, but you feel—amazing,” you gasp, latching onto his back, holding him close to you. His thrusts gain strength, and suddenly he’s bottoming inside you. “Oh, god. I can feel you in my stomach.”

“I know, baby, I know. Can feel it too,” he curls one of his hands around your throat, keeping you in place. From his position, he can watch the way your face contorts in pleasure. Lowering his head to envelop one of your nipples between his lips, he sucks hard. “You were desperate enough to get on your knees in the damn kitchen. You’ll be good now too, am I right?”

“Yes. Yes. I can be good,” you pant, eyes wide and pleading. “Anything you want. Just don’t stop.”

“I’m not stoppin’, princess. Don’t worry,” his mouth curves into a wicked grin as he drives into you again, this time even deeper. His hand on your throat tightens slightly, just enough to make you feel the pressure, grounding you in the moment. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs against your chest, his voice laden with need. 

Each thrust has you gasping, your body arching off the bed to meet his. Logan’s grip on your neck loosens as his hand slides down to grasp your hip. He squeezes your tender flesh, pulling you harder against him, as if he can’t get close enough. The bed creaks under the intensity, but you barely notice, too far lost in the rhythm of his movements.

“You’re perfect, all I’ve ever wanted,” he slips his free hand between your bodies to find your clit, and the moment his fingers make contact with it, you can’t help but whine. “So fuckin’ perfect,” you hear him repeat, more to himself than to you, his voice stranded as he tries to hold himself back, letting you chase your own release first.

The pressure inside you builds up, tightening with every skilled flick of his fingers. You’re sure you must look like a mess, sweaty and sticky, though the way he looks at you makes you forget everything else. “Logan, I’m—” you croak, the wind being knocked out of your lungs with each relentless thrust. “I think I’m gonna come.”

He picks up speed, snapping his hips faster. “I’ve got you, let go for me. I’ll take care of you, baby, I swear,” his pace becomes erratic, digging his fingers into the softness of your thighs as the headboard keeps slamming against the wall. Your body obeys him, a shuddering release tearing through you, moaning Logan’s name and gripping him like a vice. “That’s it, fuck, that’s it,” he doesn’t stop, driving you through your orgasm. His eyes snap to your face, contemplating how wrecked you look. “Tell me where—please, sweetheart.”

“Inside.”

“What?”

“I said inside. Come inside me, Logan.”

He’s not strong enough to deny you such a thing. Logan buries himself to the hilt, groaning your name as his cock twitches and paints your walls with his thick seed. Beside your head, his claws unsheate, tearing into the pillow. He ruts against you, his body trembling and writhing against yours, already apologizing for the pillow incident while pressing his forehead to your shoulder. “Sorry, I’m sorry. That hasn’t happened in a while.”

When Logan collapses beside you, he pulls you into his arms, kissing you eagerly. You return the kiss, wincing as you feel a bit of his cum slip out of you, rolling down your thighs. He stares at your glistening cunt without an ounce of remorse, and you close your legs. “That’s private.”

“It wasn’t very private a minute ago.”

“Logan?”

“Tell me, bub.”

“Knock, knock.”

He must truly love you, because he plays along: “Who’s there?”

“Ice cream.”

“Ice cream who?”

“Ice cream for you all night long.”

“Guess I didn’t succeed in fuckin’ the bad jokes out of you,” he teases softly, letting his head fall back on the bed. “But it’s fine. I’ll just have to keep tryin’.”

This is the story of how you end up dating a man who’s two hundred years old. But it’s also the story of how that same man learns to let his guard down and open his heart. So, remember this, kids: the sky’s the limit, especially when it comes to love—and yes, even when it involves dating mutants.

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

[c0ffeejelly1]

I know where the hole is!..I think.

-Bros the type to let you take control during his first time

Cw: smut smut smut um smut (virgins, like both of y’all soo) fem dom, thats all. (ALL CHARACTERS ARE TIMESKIPPED VERSIONS 🙏🙏 so basically of age.)

* “A-are you sure about this, babe?..”

* He felt like his heart was sinking to the deepest depths of his stomach with each passing moment.

* Is this a heart attack? Is this how it feels? Is he having one right now??!

* He was panicking. How the hell did he get himself into this position??

* “I mean, I don’t want to force you to do anything you might not like..”

* Who was he kidding? He knew damn well you wanted this! But he’d just never...

* “..we could always just..reschedule?”

* Reschedule? Seriously?

* Who the hell says, 'reschedule’ in this type of situation???

* What had he gotten himself into...

* He could practically feel his brain going into overdrive, the stupid word ‘error’ repeating in his mind.

* Why was his heart trying to wrestle its way out of his body?? Did it want him to die?!

* Is this organ failure? He doesn’t want to die!!..

* And the drips—no gallons of cold sweat running down his face like a marathon...

* Is this normal?!? Sweating this much??

* Could you see this? Was his face clammy looking??

* God, he hoped you were blind to his nervousness...

* This was such a stupid idea.

* And all because of his big ass, egotistical, lying, good-for-nothing mouth.

* If only he’d just said the truth to you...

* The truth that he’d never done something like..this.

* Something so intimate..something so deep..something like having-

* “Are you nervous?..”

* His eyes immediately open wide.

* Why were his eyes even closed to begin with?!

* This was so embarrassing..he could feel the blush on his cheeks rise even more as he avoided eye contact with you.

* “M-me?! Noo…not I’m nervous! I-I mean-..nervous I’m not! Ha..so let’s just um..”

* He gulped loudly.

* Are gulps supposed to hurt your throat?

* He’d have to look that up later...

* ..but back to the problem at hand!

* You were getting suspicious, which wasn’t good!

* And his arms remained laying either side of your head—not because he was experienced and knew what he was doing. No.

* only because he needed something to stop himself from collapsing down onto you like a nervous wreck.

* He was shitting himself.

* How was he supposed to do something like this to someone as gorgeous as you?

* And to think you were willing on your back presenting yourself to him in just your underwear...

* The way your bra would cup the two fruitful breasts he had no shame burying his face in, hiding the sinful buds he’d never seen in his life—actually, there was the one time he caught you in the shower, so maybe this wasn’t going to be his first time seeing you so- fuck. He’s getting distracted...

* But then there were your undies that shielded away your most vulnerable parts..and to think, you were giving that to him?.. Him????

* He doesn’t even know what he’s doing, y’know?

* You should know by now that he’s all talk, no action! He can’t touch you!

* The thing is..he’s never actually had sex! Okay?! He admits it!

* It was a lie!

* But you were just talking about how you want your first time to be amazing. He just-…

* He just didn’t want to seem lame to you! I mean, look at you!

* You were so beautiful..and he was just..there?

* And to think you wanted him to- to-..put his D in your P?? He’d probably finish on the spot!

* Just imagine how embarrassing that’d be...

* “Baby..”

* His head perks up at the pet name, his eyes meeting yours.

* “You’ve..never done this before, have you.”

* Fuck.

* Well

* It was good while it lasted, boys.

* He tried his best.

* Now he can finally crawl into a hole and die.

* He can’t lie to you when you look like this! You're practically naked, for Christ's sake! And he was in his boxers and- shit.

* Had a raging hard boner...

* He didn’t know a thing when it came to making women feel good...

* He’d watched sex videos before. Yes, he wasn’t a prude, but still.

* Did he know where exactly the hole was?

* …

* No.

* So how was he supposed to-

* “Lay on your back.”

* “..What.”

* “I said lay on your back.”

* “But then how am I gonna..“

* “I’ll do it.”

* “..y-you’ll wha-“

* How did he get himself into this mess?

* How did the only piece of clothing covering his most precious area end up on the floor?

* How did he find himself covering his mouth with the back of his hand, trying to stop the sinful sounds from escaping his lips..

* How did your mouth feel so good?

* “Ah..f-fuck baby..slow down a little..”

* His chest only moved up and down frantically, his breathing becoming heavier as his hand found a place in your hair. He was falling apart and was so close already...

* The way your tongue would flick at his tip, teasing it as you looked at him for a reaction.

* The way you would suddenly take him whole, causing his back to arch slightly and his head to fall back into the pillow behind him, a stuttery whine leaving his mouth.

* And then there were your hands..the way they would wrap around his cock so nicely, quick strokes being made, and the occasional massage of his balls.

* Fuck it was 'so good..’ as he would say it.

* you sure you were a virgin?

* This doesn’t seem like virgin behaviour to him...

* He was so deep in thought, so dazed that the only thing he could think of was coming undone.

* He felt good..way too good, so good that-

* “Baby!- w-wait..mhf!..ah-..I’m gonna cum..”

* “Y-Your mouth-..fuck..so good..sogoodd..”

* Then you stopped.

* ..why did you stop?

* Did he do something wrong? Why did you just...

* He felt his thoughts come to a halt as he watched you pull off your undies, his eyes wandering down to your..oh wow. You really were going to do this.

* You gently place a hand on his chest, using your other to grip his cock, causing him to suck in a breath at the sudden contact.

* He was sensitive and on the verge of finishing just from a slight touch..it was adorable.

* Your hips ride up above his pelvis just right enough for the lips of your pussy to wet his cock with your juices.

* Were you trying to kill him here?

* All he could do was watch and whine softly as he hoisted himself up with his elbows.

* He wanted to be inside you.

* Wanted you to take him

* Be his first, just as he was about to be yours.

* He needed it badly, and so you gave it to him.

* Sweaty, hot, messily.

* You were so beautiful...

* The way you held your tits from bouncing up and down while riding him, a hand still placed on his chest as your head slightly tilted back from the pleasure you were receiving.

* He was making you feel this good..him.

* He felt so embarrassed with the sounds that were falling from his lips—the whimpers, whines, and moans of your name—all just for you.

*Fuck he loved you.

* He was so in love...

* He couldn’t hold it in anymore. He could feel the coil in his stomach begin to tighten as his cock twitched inside of you.

*He was gonna cum

* And you knew that.

* You both did

* “Y-you’re so..t-tight..fuck.”

* “How do you f-feel this good?”

* “So beautiful..h-how did I ever deserve you?..”

* “Fuck d-dont clench around me like that baby..”

* “I wanna cum for you baby..please..”

* “I’m so glad you were my first time..”

* “D-don’t..say things like that..it’s so dirty..”

* “I-i can’t baby..i-I’m gonna-“

* A wonderful first time for both of you, if you ask me.

Characters I had in mind while writing this

REIGEN (mob psycho 100)

All might, present mic, DENKI, sero (my hero academia)

Hinata, NISHINOYA, KAGEYAMA, yamiguchi, bokuto (haikyuu)

ITTO (genshin impact)

POLNAREFF, mista (JOJO’S bizarre adventures)

Kagami, MIDORIMA (kuroko’s basketball)

Sanemi, HAGANEZUKA (demon slayer)

METAL BAT, king (one punch man)

GOJO (jujustu kaisen)

JEAN, Connie (attack on titan)

LEORIO, kite (hunterxhunter)

ONIZUKA (Great teacher onizuka)

Any character you would like

[angelbwrry]

𝒫𝐸𝐸𝒫𝐼𝒩𝒢 𝒯𝒪𝑀—ryomen sukuna

─── ⋆⋅˚ʚ♡ɞ˚⋅⋆ ──

mdni,18+

you peel your tired eyes open, blinking a couple times to adjust to the darkness. a soft yawn escapes your lips as your hands roam the plush queen-sized bed, finally finding your phone. you click it on, the bright light brutal against your eyes, and you hiss, cursing softly. 3:39 am. you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me, it’s three in the morning and he’s been at it for hours.

"seriously, sukuna?" you mutter, your voice barely above a whisper as you roll over, trying to muffle the sounds with your pillow. it’s no use. the shrill voice of the unknown woman echoes through the thin walls, her cries of "oh,sukuna!" piercing the night. you groan, pulling the pillow tighter around your head, but it does little to drown out the noise.

you never thought you'd be living with a man twice your age. but,the cost of living was getting out of hand, and you didn't have the luxury of having parents who handed everything to you on a silver platter. not to mention most of your checks went towards tuition, most? who were you kidding. all, your checks went towards tuition.

you think back to when you first moved in, how skeptical you had been. the ad on craigslist had seemed too good to be true. a large room in a nice apartment for a price you could actually afford? it had to be a scam. but when you met sukuna, all your doubts vanished. he was extremely nice, clean, and, let’s face it, fucking sexy. the entire time he’d shown you the apartment, you couldn’t help but eye-fuck him, your mind wandering to places it probably shouldn’t have.

he’d insisted on helping you move all your belongings in, not that you had many, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. "just relax," he’d said with that charming smile of his. "i’ll take care of everything." handsome and a gentleman.

you couldn’t believe your luck.

four months had passed since then, and living with sukuna had been amazing. he was a great cook, often whipping up dishes you couldn’t even pronounce. he was always offering to buy you things while he ran errands—chipotle, candles, and once even a hello kitty plushie because he knew you liked those. it was like living with the perfect older brother, if older brothers were drop-dead gorgeous and incredibly thoughtful.

but then there were the nights like this. the nights when sukuna brought women home, and you were left trying to sleep through the symphony of passion coming from his room. you weren’t the jealous type, but hearing those screeches of sukuna’s name all night until the early morning was such a damn nuisance. you always wondered if his dick was really that good; it had to be, the way these women moaned his name.

"ugh," you groan, sitting up in bed and rubbing your eyes. there’s no way you’re getting any sleep now. you grab a hoodie and pull it on, deciding to head to the kitchen for a glass of juice.maybe the cool liquid will help calm your frayed nerves.

as you tiptoe down the hallway, you can still hear them, the sounds of their lovemaking echoing through the house. you shake your head, a mix of frustration and curiosity swirling in your mind. reaching the kitchen, you fill a glass with orange juice and take a long sip, the coolness soothing your dry throat.

just as you’re about to head back to your room, the noise stops. the sudden silence is almost deafening, and you pause, wondering if it’s really over. you sigh in relief, hoping that maybe now you can get some sleep.you hear footsteps behind you.

"couldn’t sleep?" sukuna’s deep voice startles you, and you turn to see him standing in the doorway, shirtless and looking way too good for someone who’s just been... busy. his inked toned body glistens with sweat, pink hair pulled to the back. he’s wearing a pair of red checkered pajama pants that hang dangerously low on his hips, so low you could practically trace his v line that led to a small patch of pubic hair.god, he looks so fucking sexy.you notice you’re staring and cough sheepishly.

you shrug, trying to play it cool. "yeah, something like that."

he steps closer, a smirk playing on his lips. "sorry about the noise. i didn’t mean to keep you up."

you wave it off, though your heart is pounding in your chest. "it’s fine. i’ll survive."

sukuna chuckles, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "you’re a tough one, aren’t you?"

you can’t help but smile, despite the situation. "i try."

there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes and you can’t pin it, he’s staring at you with those beautiful iridescent eyes, and you can’t help but shift under his gaze.sukuna would never admit but he found you cute, there was another woman in his room that he’d just fucked and yet here he was thinking about you.you had a pink hoodie pulled over your curvy frame, ass peeking out from the bottom. it was just enough to make his imagination swirl to life, he wanted to take you right here on the kitchen counter,have you beg his name as he fucked you so hard you cried.

you look so fucking pretty, dark hair pulled into a high ponytail, pieces framing your tired face.your pretty white teeth are gnawing at your plump lips in anticipation.he makes you nervous, he can tell. he likes watching you squirm under his gaze, he finds it adorable how easy it is to get you flustered.

“well, goodnight.”

as he turns to head back to his room, you catch yourself staring at his back, the muscles moving beneath his skin. you shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts.he was literally upstairs, fucking another woman and you’re here drooling over him.now it’s just you alone in the kitchen, cicadas outside singing in harmony.you down the rest of your orange juice before rinsing out your cup and switching the light off.

your curiosity gets the best of you and you can’t help but press a ear against his door as you’re passing by, you can make out grunts.they’re too high pitched to be hers, they’re his.you find yourself getting wet at the sound, they’re deep and guttural and so damn sexy.you feel like a creep when you find your hands inching towards your panties, pushing them aside and rubbing into your wetness.you almost moan, god, you’re so fucking horny all of a sudden.

you bite down on your lip to stifle a moan when you slip a finger inside of you, a soft squelch filling your ears as you eagerly move your finger inside your wet pussy.this is so wrong you think, but it feels so good and the way sukuna’s moans are filling your ears has your head spinning.your head lulls back as you add another finger, stretching your tight hole wider.you’re desperate, other hand finding your throbbing clit.you rub in time with the creaking of the bed,your pussy pulsating around your fingers.

“you like this huh?” you hear sukuna whine, spurring you to move faster.the wetness of your cunt leaks down your fingers,and you want to cry out loud as your finger finds its way deeper and deeper inside of you.tears threaten to spill from your watery eyes as you ravage your poor clit, flicking, rubbing, squeezing the tiny bud between your fingers.

“you think i don’t see the way you look at me? i can tell you want me to bend you over.”

if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was talking to you, but it’s not possible. he doesn’t know you’re outside listening in on him, fingering yourself to his moans, his voice.a part of you wish he did, but part of you knew that it’d be extremely taboo to have relations with a man double your age.but fuck, did you want to so bad.

you can feel your stomach churning with that familiar feeling,legs buckling as they threaten to give out.”are you gonna cum?” sukuna asks, his voice is dark and you can hear the smirk in it.you nod your head as if he’s talking to you, hips now meeting your fingers.you want to cry out as your orgasm takes over you, back resting against the wall as you shake with pleasure.

“good girl.” you once again hear sukuna, realizing what you’ve just done you quickly pull your fingers out of you.god, was your sex life this pathetic? you shake your head and make your way to the bathroom to wash your hands.once you’re finally settled back under your pink covers your phone pings.

sukuna: promise to let me taste next time?

likes+ comments+ reblogs are appreciated <3

[specialgradefckr]

Heatwave: Day 6

tw: explicit content. 9k+ words. Satoru/Reader. female!omega!reader, alpha!gojo. mutual pining, light angst, YEARNING, so much yearning, PIV, heat/rut sex, minor breeding kink, choking, reader and gojo are switches, gojo is kind of a masochist. intense bickering. you and gojo are both pathetically whipped and in love, and i do mean pathetic

Prompt: Mating cycles are as violent as they are horny, intent to kill is high.

It took some convincing to get you a position as a teacher at Tokyo Jujutsu High School – plenty of traditional fools in charge who thought omegas were better as childbearers than sorcerers.

But you got there. After ten years teaching in public schools, teaching at Tokyo Jujutsu High was what you'd always wanted: small classes with dedicated students who you could form real bonds with.

As a sorcerer, you had the potential to become a special grade – but your true passion was teaching, and it was a far better use of your talents to help the newest sorcerers improve.

Other teachers weren’t quite as gifted in the art of passing on knowledge. Like the special grade sorcerer no one ever shut up about, Satoru Gojo.

He was seven years younger than you – practically a student himself. But somehow, here he was, a teacher alongside you. Nepotism, maybe, combined with how obviously alpha he was – freakishly tall, well-built, and unnervingly confident, used to getting his way.

You’re not certain of his credentials as a teacher. If he has any at all.

If you were forced to guess, you’d assume Gojo had at least a PhD in pissing you the fuck off.

“Awh, c’mon now,” He’d snickered at your implication. “Like it’s hard?”

You could kill him. Actually, cross that out – you will kill him, just as soon as you’re finished riding his stupid big, fat knot to absolute oblivion.

Alphas, for all their pride, are even dumber and hornier than omegas in heat once their rut kicks into high gear and they lock their knot into someone.

You’ll choke him out then, you plan – if that doesn’t just make him roll all six eyes in exaggerated pleasure.

Gojo’s just that kind of complete and utter brat. Even if he is an alpha.

Constantly stalking you from behind, ready to throw his arms around your shoulders in some lazy half-embrace. Lording his stupid height over you, his seemingly endless youthful energy.

“Hey~” He’d drawl, leaning into you, knowing exactly how much the action exposed his scent, “How’s it going with the students? Teach ‘em any new tricks?”

You weren’t some early-twenties dewy-eyed omega; his scent didn’t have any more effect on you than a nice cologne would have. “Yes, I think today went well. They’re bright kids, I’m proud of them.”

“Oho! We should celebrate your success!” Not pleased with your response, he’d squeezed your shoulders close, enough that you couldn’t walk away. “Drinks on me! Let’s head out~”

“Hitting on older women?” You’d returned, shrugging him off so you could walk away, “What, have you successfully repulsed every potential mate of your own age group? Quite a feat, even for you, Gojo.”

“Awh, don’t be like that. I’m just trying to show my support! I know ladies your age tend to get a lot of flak these days, especially from the higher-ups…”

It had been a pretty low blow from him, considering how much he disliked the higher-ups and tradition as a whole. Looking back, that was probably him getting desperate for some kind of reaction.

Like a fool, you’d given it to him.

Spinning, whipping around to tuck your finger beneath his chin, just tickling at his neck, inches from his scent glands.

“Ladies my age don’t go for boys like you, Satoru-kun,” you purr, snatching his chin and pulling his pretty face closer to yours, “And I’ll have you know, I have no interest one-night stands.”

He grins that awful, gorgeous grin with those pretty sparkling eyes. “Now when did I say I wanted anything like that? You’ve got a dirty mind there. I just wanted to get drinks.”

“When did I say you did?” You hold his gaze like you would the leash of a particularly disobedient dog. “I was just letting you know. But since you just want to get some celebratory drinks, I’ll ask Shoko and Nanami to come along.”

Heh. Transparent disappointment flashes across his face, like he’s bitten into a lemon, but he’s quick to brighten up.

“My mistake, I got a little too excited~” He follows alongside you with his stupidly long stride, hands in his pockets, “I was just soooo~ happy to hear you don’t do one-night stands. I’d get super jealous!”

This he says, right after taunting you for suggesting he wanted one? What a little shit.

“Do you also recall the part where I said I wasn’t interested in little boys?” You mutter, texting Shoko and Nanami about the meetup.

You can still feel his presence behind you. Pheromones drifting through your awareness. Gojo’s got such a weird scent for an alpha. Artificial and sour and sweet. Blue raspberry. Electric, just a whiff of it tingles. You lick your lips.

“Yeah, I heard you. Good to know my darling kohai Nanami is safe from your clutches~” He sings.

Fucking insufferable.

-

The thing about alphas was that they got aggressive when their ruts came around.

From experience you’d known his limitless could be turned on and off at will, and he could allow his scent to drift through it.

Not only was Gojo nearing his rut, he wanted you to know that he was nearing his rut. The air is oozing with his stinging, cloying scent that makes your mouth water. You have to swallow your spit a few times.

So when Gojo insisted that you spar with him, you just knew it was going to fucking suck.

He was going to use it to force unnecessary contact, shove his scent in your face, taunt and tease you while he physically prevented you from leaving.

Then, the million dollar question. Why the fuck did you ever agree to it?

Deep down, you tell yourself it’s to shut his stupid ass up. Because it’ll make for good practice, and that’s not even a lie. Or even just because he’s got a pretty face, and you want eye candy.

You tell yourself it has nothing to do with the heat you know you’re just on the verge of.

Nothing to do with the rut that has him smelling absolutely delectable.

The adrenaline that bursts through your veins as he races towards you is purely from the thrill of combat.

The exhilaration of watching his strike swing through empty air, the slight shock on his face; that’s because you’re proud of your skills.

You’re not panting, teeth bared in an awful grin, arms tightening back to grab him and hold him down, make him yours yours all yours – this is a combat stance.

Not that you wanted to fight him that badly in the first place. Feel his strikes against yours, touch that infinity for yourself. See what he’s offering, that he likes to throw it in your face so much.

It’s not any of that, and you whip out a denial for each thought as it rises like you dodge Gojo’s strikes with increasing desperation. Fast. Fast, so fast, like a blink. Here one moment, there the next.

Focus. On him. White hair, black tracksuit, that little flash of blue you’d see anywhere. You pin your senses on him, on the scent that dances in the air, tempting you. Put every fiber of your being into matching his strikes, which come faster, and faster, until eventually even you can’t dodge them.

White hair. Blue eyes. Pink lips. Pretty, pale face. Pressure down against you, breath, scent, hot in your face. Focus, focus.

Anything to take your attention from the way your thighs want to clench together when he pins you down, nose brushing against yours.

Close enough no infinity could stop you if you wanted to lean forward into the neck showing under his collar and bi-

“You goin’ easy on me?” He practically purrs in your ear. Infuriating.

So you let yourself purr back. Take in his pheromones for just a second, lean into it, relaxing underneath him as you let off an answering scent, laced with the arousal you’re already feeling. Tongue darting between your lips for a moment as you let your eyes linger on his pretty mouth, pretty face.

Gojo’s eyes dilate as your lashes flutter, tilting your lips to –

SLAM

“No,” You sing to his crumpled form, hunched over from the blow to his middle, “I think you’re easy, Gojo. Come back when you’re not a horny little beast about to rut.”

A breathy chuckle comes from him as he situates himself to sit back on his heels, catching his breath.

Unnerving. Everything about this bastard is unnerving. The way he looks up at you, face flushed, grinning with delight – you know for a fact your strike hit hard enough to bruise. Maybe he could heal it, but he was still winded from the impact. It had to hurt, still.

Instead, those too-blue eyes seem to glow at you.

“Easy, huh?” He says, and you pretend he said it to himself. “Actually, I’m pretty hard.”

(You try very hard to pretend you didn’t hear that. To pretend you couldn’t smell it the moment you struck him.)

He licks his lips, taking in a deep breath, like he caught the scent of something he can’t let escape him. Eyes staring after you.

You walk away, before he can catch on to how slick you’ve become, just with this little interaction. What are you, a teenager? Maybe you’re close to your heat, but not that close.

Gojo lets you walk.

You think he knows.

(He definitely knows.)

-

He loves to taunt you. Alphas love posturing, looking for fights, as soon as their ruts come around. But an omega nearing their heat would snap at anything that so much as breathed wrong. Ready to see everything as a threat, demanding and critical even of those closest to them.

Both secondary genders had… attitude problems during their mating cycles that led to them lashing out. But due to stereotypes, alphas were seen as being dominant and argumentative, whereas omegas were seen as…

“Awh, needy, are we? Must be your heat coming up, huh?”

“Still hitting on older women? Your rut must really have you acting like an animal. Why don’t you do us all a favor and find someone to fuck it out with?” God, just talking about it is fucking annoying.

“Not very mature of you to say, ma’am!” The look you gave him must have spoken volumes, because he immediately responded, “It’s okay, I know how it is. You don’t have to be so shy about admitting it! What omega wouldn’t want a strong, handsome alpha like me to take care of them~?”

“Kill yourself.”

Satoru Gojo had pried words from your mouth you would otherwise be horrified by. And that wasn’t even the worst of it.

The worst of it was he would try to pamper you, just like he claimed you must have needed.

And the worst of that part was that it fucking worked.

He knew all your favorite drinks, snacks, meals. Had things delivered to your desk when even his own moronic self could understand you did not want to see him – always with traces of his scent lingering on the gift.

Papers to grade? Coffee from your favorite café, just the way you liked it.

Indoor from a long training session? Something iced and fruity to sip on.

Back from a stressful mission? A dessert so delectable you double-check to see if Gojo hadn’t already taken a bite out of it himself.

“A little pick me up after all your hard work~ The students always talk about how much they love you. Trying to steal my thunder, huh? Good job, sensei!”

The words are irrationally pleasing to read. And he smells good, it always smells too fucking good, refreshing at the first hint and then invigorating the next. Sweet and sour, just like the bastard himself.

There’s little bits. A ribbon, a traditional little lunch wrapped in a handkerchief, one time he even just shamelessly sets his coat down next to a drink with another note.

“By the way, my favorite jacket got stained while getting you this. Since it’s your fault, you can dry clean it for me, right? Make sure to give it back, I’d miss it so much!”

Awful. Awful terrible man. Giving you every excuse in the book to hoard his scent and pretend you hadn’t. You could be throwing these away, for all he knows. Out of pure spite.

(He knows. He must know that you can’t throw them away, your instincts scream at you, your heat aches and burns. Each little article you get to squirrel away allows you another night of easier rest. He knows it. You know he does.)

It’s infuriating. It’s absolutely fucking infuriating because you know Gojo doesn’t mean it like that. He’s just using this to get to you. Doesn’t want anything more than to fuck the closest and most convenient hole because his rut is coming up. He isn’t pursuing a relationship with you, this isn’t courting, just teasing.

It’d amuse him, too, after. To tease you about it, probably try some weird shit in the classrooms or on missions – he’s got that air about him. Slutty. Down for anything.

It’s infuriating and it’s fucking hot. And devastating, because you meant it when you said you don’t really do one-night stands.

He’s just so unreasonably pretty that you’d thought about it when you met him. The attraction is there, on both ends, but the more you’ve gotten to know him the more certain you are that it’s a bad idea.

Gojo’s a menace already, and as fun as it was to taunt him, having sex with him would just give him more ammunition. He made everything weird.

All the teasing, the uncomfortable chemistry, the not-courting shit, and you’re in heat. Sure, you’d had casual sex before, but during your heat? Fuck that shit.

Because unfortunately, Gojo is right. You get needy.

Not because you’re an omega. It’s because you’re you.

When you spend your heat with a partner it’s like you can’t stop everything from spilling out.

The desire to know and be known in your entirety. To feel and touch and cherish every inch laid bare, to gift yourself like a sacrament to someone who you know will worship you –

See? Unbearably romantic. And you love it, you eat that shit up. It’s deep in you, a wanting you don’t even wish to deny.

The thought of waking up to an empty bed during your heat drove you mad with loathing and heartbreak. Seeing the person you’d allowed to have you in your heat touching someone else? You’d be out for blood.

Alphas get territorial. If an alpha sees someone with their partner, they’re liable to rip the interloper to shreds.

Omegas get possessive. An omega wouldn’t care about someone coveting what's theirs, but they’ll rip that partner to shreds if they suspect they have eyes for another.

It’s funny, how all that nurturing and devotion can turn so easily into equal parts cruelty and violence. To love deeply is to hate deeply, and adoration is so intrinsic to your being that you can’t help but fall hard whenever desire takes you.

You’re a needy little monster, craving love, gentleness, affection. You wouldn’t survive whatever he did after, you might not even survive baring yourself to him, letting the extent of your desire be known.

Gojo would rip your poor, tender, beating heart from your chest. Chew it up and spit it out like trash.

And he’s so, so pretty, and he smells so good, and you love the excitement of your back and forth – you adore him, this Satoru Gojo. You want him so bad you can taste it. But Gojo doesn’t feel it like you do, like a need deep in his bones that aches all the way to his dreams.

You’re seven years his senior, have no exceptional qualities, and he’s got all the options in the world. Gojo’s still so young. There’s no reason for him to want to be tied to you. If he fantasizes at all, it’s about fucking you, knotting you, not of your teeth on his neck or his own on yours.

And you shouldn’t even entertain the idea of him fantasizing about you. You shouldn’t entertain any of these thoughts, because for all the violence your love can inflict on him, Gojo is the one who would emerge unscathed. You’d be left in tatters, and he wouldn’t even have the decency not to step all over them.

You can’t sleep with him. You’ll die, you’ll surely die, it’ll absolutely feel like you’re dying to see that pretty face smile sarcastically, or sneer and turn away. You’ll awaken without his warmth beside you and it’ll feel like your heart is missing from your chest and you’ll have to be reminded of that every time you see him because you work with that fucking nuisance. At your job.

You can’t do it. You can’t. Off limits, no way.

But you’re (regrettably, unfortunately, miserably) needy when you’re in heat. And Gojo is a horny little beast in his rut.

And he knows, he knows he fucking knows. He’s there whenever you turn a corner, walk up to a vending machine, sit down to grade papers. He’s got that awful million watt smile that lights up his entire stupid pretty face when he flirts with you, trades barbs back and forth.

He’s touchy, too touchy, gets too close. Asks to spar with you again and again until you say yes. Leaves you more treats, more drinks, more little gifts the whole while.

Your hands get dry because your heat wakes you up in the middle of the night, you have to touch yourself constantly. Gojo brings you lotion that smells like raspberries (like him).

You’re not entirely sure he hasn’t fucked around and filled the bottle with lotion that’s also laced with his cum. You use it anyways. His reaction makes it obvious that he can tell you have, and he’s pleased by it.

You hate him. You hate him, and you want him. You want him so fucking bad.

You can’t do this. You can’t do it.

Gojo looks at you like he wants to eat you. Like he’s tracking every little twitch, every movement, like a predator and his prey. Like he’s waiting for you to bolt off so he can give chase.

You can’t do this.

You’re not fucking prey. You’ll bite him back, doesn’t this stupid man know?

And he spars with you again and you’re left breathless from dodging him –

(you refuse to be touched by someone who is himself untouchable)

And he smells so so so good up close when he finally tackles you, seizes you, locks your arms up from behind you –

(you love to be held, you dream of being held, in the depths of your heat it’s not being filled that comforts you it’s the thought of pressure like a vice grasping you so close, unwilling to let go)

And his face is so devastatingly beautiful up close, those terrible, magnificent eyes like a sea of stars, staring at you like he’s enraptured –

(god, he’s so pretty, just looking at him has a little dose of glee shooting through you)

And his lips taste as good as he smells –

(sweet and sour, can it really be that bad if the sting is all washed away with the tingle of sugary, electric tang on your tongue)

And he holds you so so tight so close so warm –

(you’re pulsing, aching, throbbing, and you’re so fucking tired of your own fingers and he’s grinding against you so good)

And then you’re in your room, at your door, inches away from your nest with all the shameful little bits and pieces of his scent you’ve stolen away.

(you can’t do this. this man will kill you. he will be the death of you.)

Teeth on your collarbone, huge hands clawing at your shirt, pulling it up. You look down at him, meet his fevered eyes and lust-filled gaze.

His breaths ghost over the skin he’s left wet with kisses and nips. Hungry, so hungry for you. So pretty. You grasp his pretty face with both hands and pull him up into a kiss that’s more teeth than lips.

(You’ll go out fighting.)

When his tongue darts into your mouth you nearly moan at the taste of him. Gojo groans, and he does it openly, hands wide over your ass and clenching at it. You close your teeth against his tongue, not hard, not biting. Just to feel it. Measuring the give.

Gojo nicks himself on your teeth to pull away, a sparkle in his eyes.

“Knew you wanted me.”  He pants, licking over your lips, “Wanted this. Could smell you.” Lick, lick. “Taste you.”

Fuck. His eyes are wild and eager and you can smell his arousal already dripping free from him. Slotting one of your legs between his lets you press up and confirm his hardness. He moans at it, purposefully loud.

Massive. He’s massive, hard, and aching for you, so much he nearly howls at the pressure. Clawing your clothes off of you. You’re no better, yanking off his jacket, tugging his shirt up – and he lets you – tossing them into your bed.

“Look at you,” Kiss, kiss, he steals the words between presses of his mouth on your skin, like he has to breathe you and not the air, “Look at that sweet little nest. Helped you with it, didn’t I? Aren’t I just the greatest alpha?”

It’s hard, so fucking hard, to ignore how delight laces through your chest at his words. This nest, this place where you’ve languished for too long already in your heat, now an alpha (your alpha) is here and happy to fill it up (fill you up), curl up in it with you.

“You’re talking too much,” is all you dare to let yourself voice.

You seize his pants and underwear by the waistband, dragging them down his hips. Gojo stumbles, undignified, towards you, but even then, he’s tall enough to press you to fall back into the strategic mess of blankets, pillows, and your hoarded pieces of his offerings.

He’s still grinning as he pins you down. Arms on either side of you. Tall, so tall, so much larger than you. Larger than life. Your beautiful, ferocious alpha, all hard and excited just for you.

“Too bad. I love talking.” Gojo’s eyes stay trained on yours as he mouths over a breast, sucking as much of it as he can into his mouth.

“No, really? Would never have guessed.” the grumble escapes you, and he giggles.

He watches you still, tense, and try not to lean into the sensation as he plays at your nipple with his tongue, teeth. Pulls away with a pop.

You hear him kicking off what remains of his clothes, but you can’t bring yourself to look down.

“I can smell your slick from here,” A hand tracing up the inside of your thigh, “Mouthwatering.”

So wet you can almost feel yourself gushing. His hands are inches away from it. Heavy, warm form bearing down on you as he moves to suck at your other breast. Teasing fingers where your leg joins to your body.

“Is that all your mouth’s good for?”

His laughter had been far too mocking to be endearing, just like his grip on your hips had been just a bit tighter than pleasant, his grin wide enough to be smug instead of sweet.

Wretched and traitorous, your heart lurches at his beautiful face, anyways.

“If you wanted me to show you,” Those blue, blue eyes never leave yours as he trails his face down your body, “You could’ve just asked, babe.”

Your hand finds its way into his hair, which is naturally as soft and pleasant to the touch as you’d dreamed it was. You clench tightly and he rumbles in approval.

“Like it rough, do you, omega?” His breathes, right over your drooling cunt. “Me, too.”

“You’d be so fucking hot,” You pant, “If you kept your damn mouth closed.”

When he laughs again, it feels a little better, but he’s always got to dig in. Pressing kisses to your clit that leave you fighting the urge to kick your legs.

“I’m always hot, baby,” God, it feels so sinful, so good, to have his exhalation ghosting over your slickness, “You’re just all antsy ‘cause of your heat. Let me make you cum, calm you down.”

This has the opposite effect of calming you down and he knew it would. Probably expected you to wrap your legs around his waist while he buried his face in your cunt, digging your heels hard into his sides, like spurs.

“Would be the first useful thing your mouth has done all year.” Gojo snickers against you and it’s annoying how good it feels.

And then he closes his lips around your clit, tongue tracing swiftly all over it, and you couldn’t stop squirming if you tried. Can’t stop the noises that come out of your mouth, spilling out, overflowing, like how the slick just pours from your clenching hole.

He fingers into you, two at once, and it’s embarrassing how little you feel it at all. Two, in and out, then a third, stretching inside you. Spreading them apart inside you. Making these awful wet noises – it doesn’t help that Gojo likes to smack his lips while he eats.

“Tasty. So wet. Did you stretch yourself for me?” He asks between laps at your clit, pressing himself closer to you while you whimper and teeter on the edge, “Got some knot toys to prep?”

“Fuck – Gojo!” Even when you’re trying to snap at him, he makes it fucking impossible, suckling at your clit before you can get the words out.

You cum with a light, airy cry. Short, shallow gasps as your other hand darts down to grasp his shoulder. Clinging.

“I will, I will,” Gojo takes a deep breath, over the wetness of you, making you shiver.

Eyes like blue flame look up at you. Sinful tongue hanging out of his mouth like a dog. Licking sticky lips. “Must’ve been hard, all that time you spent waiting. Don’t you worry, I’ve got a nice big knot ready just for you.”

And god, it’s fucking terrible, how you have to suppress a shiver of delight at his words, as he crawls up your body to be eye-level with you. His cock rubs along your sex, wetting itself so easily it should be embarrassing.

It is big. It’s so big and the knot swelling at the base of it is even better, thick and pulsing and throbbing.

Your stupid horny omega brain wails at the prospect of finally, finally being filled up by something hot and pulsing and living. Strong enough to hold you down and breed you. He’d give you the prettiest kids.

Oh god, oh fuck. Omega brain is seizing the steering wheel right now and you’re fucking terrified of where it’ll take you. You have no idea what you’re going to do when he knots you.

And he WILL fucking knot you if you have to mount and ride him yourself.

He’s grinning. Your instinct screams at you to bite. “I could smell it on you just now, you know. You want me to knot you soooo bad.”

You return his smile with bared teeth, “You want to knot me so bad, Gojo.” You’re still oversensitive when you grind your cunt against him but it’s worth it to see his stupid jaw drop open, “It makes you look fucking stupid.”

Pretty, pretty. He’s so pretty you could cry, and his cock is twitching against you, wet and burning and ready.

“Shut up,” Gojo breathes, close enough for you to smell his tingling scent on his breath, “And take it.”

A snarl builds in your throat, climbs on your lips – only to be knocked away thoroughly by the feeling of his fat head nudging, hot and swollen at your entrance. You’re so slick it feels almost gummy against you.

He drives himself in and you bite back a scream. Instead you let your hands claw down his back, and when they’re far enough down you just reach up to his shoulders again and dig your nails in harder.

The scrape at your fingertips, the way the smooth flesh of his back yields to yours – rough and savage enough to leave his eyes wide and gleaming.

His cock driving into you is like velvet, warm and wet and welcoming, filling an ache that makes you want to cry out.

There’s a stretch, because he’s big, of course he’s fucking huge but it’s the delicious type of stretch, a tight pinch that makes you shudder and clench and pull a moan or two out of him in return.

“See?” He nips at the underside of your jaw. Close, too close, inches away from your scenting glands, licking like he wants a taste, “Just needed some cock to calm you down. Poor – poor little omega, your heat must have been really bad, huh?”

You want to kill him. You want him to fill you up up UP more and more of his cock drives into you, it’s like it’s fucking endless, his knot urges forward at your entrance and the stretch –

“This – hhgh – coming from the beast in rut,” You snarl through strangled moans, “Who’s been throwing himself at me like an animal?”

Your hand in his hair trails down, over the back of his neck, and his whole body jerks at the touch. You’re no better, straining beneath him, talking out loud so you don’t lose your mind as his knot slides home.

“Did you think of me while you fucked your hand, Gojo?”  Dangerous territory. Dangerous thoughts. “Did you think about what I’d do to you? About me putting you on your ass while sparring because my scent turned you into a slut?”

He groans, long and laborious. You feel his knot lock in, his head thrown back (neck bared, pretty, pale, so empty and open) as he whines out his release.

It spurts inside you, hot and swelling and heady enough to bring you to a second release as his pelvis grinds against your clit.

“So what if I did?” There’s a challenge in his eyes, bright and sky blue and heart-rendingly beautiful in his blissed out state.

Something churns in your chest, something feral and wanting and you should know better but you can’t stop it now –

“Always think of me,” the demand leaves your lips before you can think of it, “You’ll always think of me when you touch yourself now, Gojo, you won’t be able to cum without it.” Before you know it, you’re purring, both from the afterglow and the words you’ve spoken with such misplaced confidence.

He thrusts lightly into you, a short useless movement which just makes you both more aware of his fat, swollen knot as it pumps his cum into you. Gojo purrs back at you, a warm rumble you can feel all throughout his form pressed against yours. His face against your chest, rubbing it – scenting you.

Your arms curl around him. Hold him close. “Never think of anyone else. Only me.”

The only response is louder purring. It’s painfully pleasant, comfortable, with the length of him pressed against you, his knot buried inside of you.

His eyes are half-lidded, dragging his parted lips over your skin. It’s too lazy and slow to be called a kiss, but the intimacy of It burns a trail across your skin. He licks at your neck in broad strokes and you mindlessly loll your head to the side, baring it for him.

Both of you content in the silence, sated by your climaxes. The first of many. A lull where you lie locked together so perfectly, enjoying the sinful trickles of his cum filling you up while his knot slowly deflates.

Naturally, Gojo can only let a good thing last so long.

“Never think of anyone else, huh?” His voice is unbearably smug, and smooth, and all things lovely. “Possessive and needy. What were you going to do if I hadn’t pounced on you?”

It takes you a moment to respond, disgruntled, “Next time you made an ass of yourself while sparring I would’ve just bitten you.”

A laugh; breathless and light. “I thought you didn’t like younger men?”

“A knot is a knot.” You clench around him a bit, just to drive your point home. It makes him spurt a little more into you, scalding hot. He hisses, face flushing.

He’s pretty like this. Then again, he’s always pretty.

“Yeah?” He leans in with glittering eyes, already recovered. “Bet you like my knot best. Bet you won’t want any other after this.”

You already don’t. You love the feel of him inside you, how he fits like a glove, how his knot fills you to bursting. It’s still inside you and you already want to feel it again. You already want him to be yours. All yours, only yours and yours forever.

But this is your asshole coworker who bickers with you, not your fucking boyfriend.

“I want another alpharight now,” You roll your eyes, like saying it would make it real, “A quieter one.”

“Heh.” His smile is as loud as his eyes. “No, you don’t. You wouldn’t let me so much as lick you if you weren’t already thirsting your brains out for me.”

God, are you that transparent? Or can he see through lies with the six eyes, too?

You push yourself upwards – not easy because Gojo’s laid his uselessly long torso against your chest – and the knot’s still mostly lodged in you but there’s enough give for you to push him back until you’re sitting on his lap.

Gojo is leaned against you, resting his body weight against you as he purrs like a careless, cuddly cat.

He doesn’t even flinch when you cup his face between your hands. Lazy, relaxed, content inside you.

“You have a lot of cheek for a brat who got hard after I knocked the wind out of him.” You tilt your head to the side. “Or maybe that’s what you’re hoping for on round two?”

And oh god. This guy can’t be for real. His knot has barely gone down enough to pull out and you feel him twitch inside you, hardening again. You pull him out with a twist of your hips and he actually whines.

He licks his lips. “What do you think?”

His cock flops against you again, hard, ready to go. You let out an incredulous laugh. “I called you a horny beast, I didn’t think you were actually some kind of – breeding whore.”

“Mmmh,” Large hands dart to hold your ass, pulling you closer, “Maybe I am. You’ll let me fuck you, though, so I must be doing something right.”

As dirty talk goes, you could do way better. But it looks like Gojo is just that easy – his scent deepens with excitement, electric on your tongue.

Mouthwatering. Stinging. It reaches deeper into you than you’d like, pulls out an answering tug of longing that spills over your lips before you can stop it.

Hands on his shoulders, over those pretty collarbones, shoving him back. It’s so easy; he falls back for you without resistance. Staring up at you through lowered lashes like an actual seductress.

Satoru Gojo is heartrendingly beautiful, above you or beneath you. It drives you mad.

“Tell me,” You want you want you want, “Tell me how badly you want to fuck me.” Tell me you want me. Tell me you love me. Tell me you’re mine and you’ll never be anyone else’s.

“You said it yourself,” Gojo breathes, “I’m a whore, yeah? A beast in rut, throwing myself at you.”

“Why me?” Tell me I’m the only one who could ever satisfy you. He might be a dumb horny whore of an alpha, but your omega brain is equally delirious for feeding into this delusion. Tell me you want me. Tell me you love me.

His smile is lazy, eyes glimmering, and you get a terrible intuition that he knows exactly what you’re asking, exactly what you want. And he’s not going to give it to you.

“Knew you could keep up.” He answers with a distinct ring of mockery. Fucking brat.

Wrong answer. Wrong. Answer.

Your hands jump to his throat. Squeezing instinctively. Like you can rip the words out of him, the voice that lights every fiber of your being on fire, in all the worst ways. And his neck feels so perfect under your hands. Like it was always meant to be there.

"Wanna bite?" He mouths, somehow smirking at you before his mouth drops into an "O" – you’re grinding against him, hard and careless of his overstimulation.

Those pretty blue irises shrink and dilate wide, shimmering with tears. His face is so pale, lashes such a pretty white that the red on his cheeks stands out all the more painfully. A moan of pleasure ripples under your fingertips, squandered in your grasp.

God, he really is a whore, isn’t he? So eager in front of you, dick out, lashes fluttering, throwing himself at you. Teasing you with his scent, his little gifts. Letting you see him like this. How could he let you see him like this, if he didn’t want to be yours?

Would he be so pathetic and needy for anyone? It sends rage through you, white-hot and yearning. All you can see is him, him, Gojo in all his debauched glory beneath you.

Ruin him. Ruin him for anyone else. Yours, yours, all yours. So much that he can never think of anyone else, like you can only think of him.

You squeeze harder, like you can pull his treacherous, perfect voice out if you can just press hard enough into his singing pulse. Close, close, so fucking close, the pull inside you draws you over his cock, up and down, rubbing against your throbbing clit.

His cock twitches in time with it as you grind away. Blood rushing in your ears, pounding. You’re close. He’s close. He’s going to cum. He’s going to cum outside of you.

Just as Gojo’s eyes squeeze shut, his cock jumping against you – you pull your cunt off, leaving no more stimulation. You don’t release your hold on his throat, hips guided purely by instinct, slotting him against your entrance.

“Don’t you dare,” You hiss, feeling his pulse flutter, “You don’t cum unless you’re inside me. Never.”

Eyes shooting wide to look up at you. His lips part, desperate, passionate, heavy with words that he doesn’t have the air for.

You don’t want to hear it. He’s said enough.

You ride him like you hate him - to be fair, you kind of do.

Slamming down on his dick, just short of his knot. Hunched over him so you can still choke him while you fuck him, see his stupid face contort in shock and bliss as his cock is suddenly enveloped.

His sweet-sour scent practically stings your tongue, heavy with arousal, with lust, with want –

He fills you up so fucking good, he’s infuriating, he’s huge, he’s perfect and why isn’t he yours? Everything inside you screams and all you know is the stretch in your core, the burning need.

So close so close you're almost THERE –

Panting, gasping, you bear yourself down on his knot with a wail, squeezing his neck like a stress toy. It makes him pulse and throb inside you.

Fuck fuck FUCK -

The STRETCH, it fucking burns, Gojo is writhing underneath you. It's like he's bigger than he was last time.

His hands aren’t at his throat but on your hips, pulling you impossibly closer, adding to all the weight that pulls you against him. Tight, hot, so, so fucking big.

“My knot,” You pant, half-feral with desire, “This is my fucking knot, Gojo, my dick, you don't put this in anyone else, do you hear me, ALPHA?"

There’s a rumble in his neck where he might be trying to answer you, but you ignore it in favor of bearing down on him. It's like all your breath leaves you in one big gasp, a whine escaping you as you finally pop the knot in.

You squeeze yourself, impossible, tight, feeling your whole cunt scream with the effort, the delicious stretch of a muscle pushed to its limit. You have him, you have him, you have him in you, all yours. Your core finally surges towards release at the feeling of being filled.

And then you look down at what you’ve captured, your alpha, teary-eyed, red-faced, eyes glazed over in bliss as his lips part to take a breath he can’t manage.

Cock burning inside you, hips bucking up, hands clutching you like a lifeline. Hands so uselessly large that his thumb can reach to roll over your clit.

All at once, you let go. Climax overwhelming you both, his first gasping breath painted with the sudden release.

You want to see his face while you do it, collapsing forward as your breath is stolen from you in waves of white-hot pleasure. Gojo lets out a high pitched noise that he probably shouldn’t be capable of, choking, crying.

“F-fuck,” He half-chokes, half-sobs, racing to clutch you to his chest.

You’ve never seen him so uncomposed, so helpless, your name on his lips, the six eyes blown wide and unseeing. Heat floods your insides as he releases, knot swelling impossibly larger. A squeak escapes you, and you press the side of your face into his toned chest as he holds you close.

You’re smaller than him – most people would be. It’s funny, feeling smaller in his arms. All the fight and fervor trickles away, slowly, like it’s making room for his cum.

Something terribly dark and feral inside you wants to rut against him and make him whimper more, now that he could hear it, but you don’t have the strength.

“Surprised you didn’t bite me,” He muses while he traces mindless patterns over your bare back.

“For what conceivable reason would I have bitten you during that?” His chest is warm, so warm. You’re not paying much attention to what you’re saying, just lazily snapping back at him for stating the obvious. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I literally choked you.”

“Hell yeah you did.” He rubs his cheek against your hair. “It was super hot. Do it again.”

Idiot. You try to ignore the hunger his words ignite inside you, the stupid glee you get from the thought that he likes it just as much as you do. “What, do you want me to bite you?”

“As hot as it would have been to see you take what you want,” God, his grin is just so annoying, and it makes your heart skip a beat, to see that fire in his eyes, “You’d probably feel all bad about it later or some crap. Like you trapped me or something. Which would be super hot, by the way. You have my permission to trap me at any time, especially if I’m sticking my dick in you.”

“Well, now I don’t want you at all,” You lie, blatantly, like a liar.

Satoru snickers, which really isn’t good for your heart. “What, because I’m such a kinky whore, you think I’ve been all used up already? Should I give myself some bruises and hickey sometime to really sell the fantasy?”

That gets an eye roll. “I didn’t degrade you enough while we were fucking, is that it? Had to pick up some slack yourself?”

“Heheh. You sure liked calling me a whore and a slut.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, “What can I say, I’m just that good a lay. Always give the lady what she wants.”

“Sure.” And yet you still don’t have what you want from him.

“You’re the only person I’ve fucked like this, you know.” He says, more softly than he should.

It’s just so unfair. How he makes your heart stumble. How his little admission sends a trill of hope through you.

“Fucked how? During your rut?” He didn’t seem like the type to grin and bear the suffering.

“You know,” He shuffles again, “Like this. For fun.”

“What, I’m the only person you’ve let call you a whore? Choke you? Be more specific, Gojo,” The name tastes bitter in your mouth, “All the other times you just had to lie back and think of England?”

“Well, you’re the first person who’s fucked me that also called me Gojo, for one.”

He really has to ruin everything. “Just shut up. Nothing you say makes me feel better.”

Arms wrap tighter around your waist. “I mean it, though. I was looking forward to this. I never look forward to it. Letting down my technique, fucking some omega until I knotted them.”

You want to bite him, take a chunk out. Pull his hair and rip some of it out of his stupid empty skull. “Gojo –”

“No, listen.” And that’s a tone you haven’t heard before – low, commanding, an alpha’s demand. He hadn’t spoken to you like that once.

“I used to hate it, dread it. The long wait for my knot to go down before I could finally just leave and put everything back up again. Being stuck with some stranger in such an intimate position, feeling them touch me, it was the worst. The absolute fucking worst.”

He nuzzles his head into your neck, like he’s basking in your scent. “This, though? This is the best. I want to do this for every rut, forever.”

Another skipped beat, and that’s it. Your foolish, graceless heart can only drag you through so much humiliation and pining before you rip it out and stomp on it yourself.

“So what?” You lower your voice in return, hard and cutting, “Who says I want to spend all your ruts with you, Gojo?”

“Thought you didn’t do one-night stands.” He smirks at you. You want to punch him.

“What did you think this was?” Did he think you were pining for a relationship while he was just fucking it out? Sure, you were pathetic enough to want it, but you weren’t pathetic enough to expect it. Not on your fucking life.

But then.

There’s the answer, the “A public service for needy omegas~” or some other witty retort. You can already hear his voice ringing in your ears, playful and taunting.

But the sound doesn’t come. Nothing comes at all. Complete silence.

Gojo’s lean, muscled form has stiffened, now rigid against you where it had been relaxed. You can feel his hesitance rippling through the air. His scent is more sour than sweet. Spoiled.

“I thought… you wanted me.” You’ve never heard him sound so uncertain, so afraid. You’ve never heard Gojo sound afraid, period. “I was courting you, and you accepted my gifts, so I – ”

“When were you courting me?” You snap, even though you make the connection instantly. He had given you gifts. He’d spend time with you, given you something with his scent. Paid attention to your needs.

“This whole time?” He sounds like he’s starting to panic, now, “What did you think was happening? We’ve been flirting literally since the day I met you! I might not be the most traditional guy, but I got the important parts down!”

It doesn’t sound real, for Gojo to be freaking out like this. He turns you around so you can see his blue eyes, wide and wild with frustration, “Why did you think I gave you things with my scent and spent every spare hour in close quarters with you?”

“Because they were always accompanied with snarky remarks? Because you taunt me at every opportunity?” You say it straight to his face. “We literally insult each other every time we meet.”

“You like it, you tease me back!” He grouses, “You’re super into that, you fucked me anyways!”

“Yeah. I thought that was all you wanted.” You swallow. “You’re supposed to ask someone to court them, Gojo.”

“Of course you wanted me to court you. You seduced me when I pinned you down and then knocked me on my ass!”

You’re upset with him and all, but he’s just got this infuriating ability to make you laugh no matter what. “Most people would take that as a no.”

He’s smiling back. Beaming. His scent is clean, like just hearing you laugh made it all better, “But your answer isn’t a no. You li~ke~ me.”

“Not so much right now.” You look away. “So, what? I’m just a fool for not knowing what you wanted, when you never even told me?”

“I thought it was obvious.” You can hear the frown in his voice. “You’re a pretty proud person. What did you think I was doing when I gave you all those gifts?”

“You literally told me I was being needy. I figured you were mocking me.”

“But then why did you accept them?” His tone, laced with something awful in his scent, brings your gaze back to his face.

He looks kind of… heartbroken.

You can’t look at him long. “Because… I am needy.”

His arms reach up from your waist, cradling your back, pulling you against him. Chin tucked where your shoulder meets your neck. Face buried in your scent glands, just where he’d put a bite. If he – if he wanted you.

“When you finally admitted it, I thought I’d feel glad.” He sounds like he’s complaining, but your neck is wet. “You just have to steal away all my victories, huh? Can’t even let me win this one.”

Why is he acting so pathetic, like a wounded puppy, when you’re the one who admitted to being down so bad you’d accept even mockery from the person you wanted to get with?

And then he sniffles, like some teenage girl who just got dumped. “I thought you knew I liked you. I thought we were having fun. Teasing each other.”

“It was fun, that’s why I did it. I just…” You swallow. “I didn’t think it would mean anything more for you. You know by now that I – I like you a lot. Way more than normal. There is nothing normal about how much I want you. I didn’t think you wanted me the same way.”

“That’s literally the worst thing I’ve ever heard. You didn’t know I wanted you back?” There’s more wetness on your neck, but this is warm. The familiar touch of his tongue dragging over your scent glands.

Gojo takes a shuddering breath, and it occurs to you that he must be taking in your scent. “How could you even think that?”

“Why are you so upset?” His whining brings you back to life, just a little. Enough to be angry. “For – for fuck’s sake already, Gojo. Say it in as many words. I told you, the whole reason I thought so was because you never told me what you meant outright.”

Another sniffle. “You’re so mean. You know what courting is. You just like bullying me.”

His sniveling revitalizes you further. It’s easier, knowing he can be pitiful for you, too. “Say it, Gojo, or you’ll be just another notch in my belt.”

“And call me Satoru! How are we supposed to date if you don’t even call me by name?!”

“We’re not dating. Say it, say it right now,” You’re getting sick of his crap, “Or I will rip your dick off.”

You can hear it, again. Is that a promise? Just wait until I’m hard to do it.

And you can see it, actually, how it physically pains him not to say it.

Gojo says your full name, out loud, and you’re helpless at the sound. “I have romantic feelings for you. I would like to court you with the intention of marriage. Mating. Whatever.”

He just can’t let you win one, can he? And yet, you’ve never heard a better sound. It feels like a massive burden has been lifted from your shoulders. Your chest.

“Two full sentences of formality,” You muse, “Impressive.”

“Right?” He preens, “Lots of things about me are impressive. You’ll see while we’re courting.”

“You never fail to impress me with how much of a dumbass you can be, Gojo.”

“Satoru. And that’s not a yes. Hurry up and say yes! I know you wanted to bite me back there, you’re totally crappy at hiding it.”

You sigh. “I did. But you didn’t want to bite me, did you?”

A pause. You’re suddenly uncomfortably aware of how close his face is to your neck.

“I always want to bite you. Ever since I met you. Smelled you.” His tongue runs along your throat, so hot it almost feels like it burns. “You can’t tell because you’ve never seen a version of me that doesn’t want to sink my teeth into your neck.”

You swallow, and he purrs, kissing over your pulse.

“It’s okay, though. I can be generous.” And his voice is back to being annoying again. “Even when you’re so demanding. I can only jerk off to you, I can only stick my dick in you – gosh, you said not to cum unless I was inside you, right? You really signed yourself up for – ”

“Oh, fuck off, Gojo – ” You interrupt yourself, “ – Satoru. Are you sure you want to… I mean. I’m older than you, you know? By a lot. I don’t have some kind of pedigree, and – well, I mean. You know.”

You flush despite yourself, “I’m… demanding, I guess. I like to bully you, if you want put it that way.” He laughs. “I’m sure you have better prospects.”  

“Yeah,” A hand reaches up to stroke your hair. He pulls you so your face is pressed into his chest, so you can hear him purr for you. Loudly, now. “That’s why I’m courting you, first. Until you’re sure you’re my best prospect. Then I’ll mark you. Then you can mark me, and not even feel a little bit bad about it, after.”

It’s scary, you think, as the darkness creeps into your vision – just how accurate his prediction of you was. “You don’t think I’m… too needy?”

“I love that you’re too needy.” A kiss to the top of your head, “You look at me like I’m the thing you want the most you want in the whole world. Makes me crazy, how much you want me. I want you to bite me. Eat me whole. I want to open up my chest and shove you inside.”

A breath leaves you, mostly because he’s holding you too tightly. Just tight enough. “So you like that I’m obsessed with you. But do you like me?”

“Yeah,” He sighs, rubbing his cheek into your hair affectionately, “So much it’s kind of scary. You’re all I can think about most of the time. I would look forward to slipping you a little present all day. Then I’d get hard after watching you open it, and I’d have to rub one out. You have no idea how happy it makes me, just being near you.”

You’re quiet for a bit. All you can hear is his gentle purring, rumbling through his body and yours.

One of your hands finds one of his. “…you’ll be mine? My one and only? You won’t ever want anyone else?”

He squeezes. “Just you. You should be more worried about becoming my one and only. If I can’t jerk off or fuck anyone else, that’s all gonna be on you, baby.”

“I’m not particularly worried,” You yawn, “If you get to be too much, I’ll just choke you out again or something.”

You feel him start to twitch inside you, knot still stuck in your entrance – no way. He can’t be hard this soon, not when he hasn’t even finished –

“Hehe. Shouldn’t have said that unless you wanted to go again~!”

“Satoru!!”

[yuwuta]

mine. — inumaki toge

❝i just wanna say you’re mine, you’re mine; fuck what you heard, you’re mine, you’re mine.

000. inumaki toge + reader

001. fluff, non-curse/college au, slightly suggestive but barely, inumaki uses sign language and speaks like two actual verbal words

002. baby sized drabble, barely even 1k words

Toge would consider himself patient. He doesn’t mind waiting in long lines for the release of a new game, has no problem when the trains are delayed because it means he can sit and relax in the station a little longer, can sit for hours on end doing nothing and not be bored—but his tolerance for watching other people mess with his girlfriend is extremely low.

He reasons that you continue the conversation because you think it’s merely friend and polite to do so, and you’ve always been such a pleasantly happy drunk. But Toge knows this conversation isn’t friendly on the other end—and it’s not some protective boyfriend instinct, either, he has solid evidence of this idiot talking about you to his other idiot friend in front of Toge during lecture, with no knowledge that he was behind them, or that you are very not single.

(“She’s gorgeous, bro, look,” the kid muses, showing his friend your Instagram profile, “She’s in my bioethics class, and she’s easily the hottest girl. Smart, too. Little bit of a teacher’s pet, but I don’t care, she’s beautiful. A solid eight, for sure.”)

Toge knows that if this guy ever got his head out of his ass and ever bucked up the balls to actually ask you out instead of using roundabout flirting tactics and hopelessly pining over you during lectures, that you’d turn him down. He isn’t worried about losing you, and he doesn’t doubt your love for him. It does, however, concern him that there are people who believe they have a shot with you in the first place. He can’t possibly let that carry on. 

(Also, an eight? How could this guy call you beautiful, but say you’re an eight? It doesn’t equate—Toge doesn’t believe in rating women, but you’re not an eight. You’re a fifteen on a scale of one to ten; a shining star amongst a sea of planets; the love of his life). 

His fuse is about to blow when the guy touches you, reaches for your hair and carefully twirls a bit between his fingers. He knows that move; he knows the excuse was probably that there was something stuck to your hair, but Toge didn’t see shit. He’s had enough, and promptly bulldozes through Maki’s small apartment to reach you. He’s not sure if he’s making a ruckus, or if you can sense him coming, but you turn your head in his direction, a smile spreading on your face before cheering, “Hey, Toge! Do you—”

You’re cut off by a tug on your shirt, firm and impatient—but you’re not moving yet, not quick enough, so he does it again. Your eyes seem to light up with realization. You turn back to acknowledge the boy, and that’s really when Toge really loses it. All he hears is the stupid, desperate pitch of the kid’s voice sputtering out something about finding you later and grabbing drinks for you both, even as Toge’s dragging you through the crowd.

You let yourself be pulled by Toge’s greedy hand. It’s not all that far, just into a corner of the hallway, next to a closet where Maki keeps her cleaning and kickboxing supplies. He’s tempted to pull you into her bedroom, but he’s not up for being bruised for a week. 

“You okay?” you question, voice sweet and genuine—and it makes him grimace, because you really didn’t have a clue. Not one at all. 

Toge huffs, drops your hand to sign; using his left hand to circle around his face slowly, tapping at his chin. You understand, but only partially, given the slight tilt of your head and question that follows, “Beautiful? That’s why you’re upset?” 

He blinks slowly, shaking his head and flailing his arms in the direction of the living room. You follow his hands, down the hall then back to his face, but he can tell you still don’t get it. He tries again, pointing to you, then repeating his previous sign and adding another, and he can see the realization spread across your face, followed shortly by a bashful chuckle. 

“Too pretty? Me?” you ask to confirm. Toge nods his head, all serious and steely eyes, but you throw yours back with a hearty laugh this time. He crinkles his eyebrows, repeating his initial signs this time. Hdoesn’t know what’s so funny, if you’re laughing because you’re flattered or you find him ridiculous or something in between, but Toge means it either way; wants to ingrain it into you, just how beautiful you are.

So, he raises his hands again, when your eyes have met him again, and goes slower this time—pulls his mask down for good measure, so you can read his expression more clearly—to sign one simple word: “Mine.”

You tilt your head to the side again, and now Toge is the one laughing. He thinks you might be a little more drunk than you’ve let on, or maybe you just want him to indulge you. Either way, he has no problem repeating himself, doesn’t mind telling you again and again and again. 

He takes a step forward, leaving mere inches between you. You seem much smaller than him like this, still giggling, but he doesn’t mind. Toge reaches for your rest again, turning your palm upward and using a single finger to trace the letters of the word “mine,” onto your skin.

Your laughter comes to a halt when you verbalize his words, “Mine?” Toge nods, turning your wrist again to lace your hands together, pushes yours against the wall, uses his free one to cradle your cheek. He adores the way your pupils get bigger, the way your lips part slightly in anticipation. It’s his turn to smile, pulling you towards him for a kiss and ghosting his words over your lips, “You’re mine.”

[absurdthirst]

The Journey to Jackson {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 21.3k

Warnings: NON-CON, Coercion, forced copulation, mentions of sterility, medical examinations without consent, forced breeding, threats of death, nipple play, vaginal sex, cock riding, restraints, cream pie, killing, escape, pregnancy, sickness, anxiety attacks, labor, giving birth, breastfeeding, oral sex (female receiving)

Comments: Being taken by a group that has a fertility issue, Joel is forced to procreate with one of the women, you. When he escapes, he brings you with him. Making the journey to Jackson even more perilous.

🚨🚨 DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT - This story contains elements of forced copulation/NON-CON for the purposes of breeding/forced impregnation. 🚨🚨

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Joel Miller MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

He had assumed there was a settlement nearby. The closest stores were pilfered of anything and everything that could be used. Making him wary as he set up camp. “No fire tonight.” He grunts when Ellie drops a handful of sticks into the middle of the small clearing. “Aw man, I wanted to clean up!” The teenager pouts, making Joel snort. “It’s not cold, get some water and wash.” He tells her, smirking to himself when she starts grumbling under her breath in typical teenager fashion. He listens for the sound of animals moving, but it’s silent. 

They come in the middle of the night. Joel had settled into a restless sleep, when they had surprised him. Shouting and fighting, the butt of a rifle slams against his forehead right as he hears Ellie shouting for them to let her go. Blacking out into oblivion. 

When Joel wakes up, his head is throbbing and he groans as his eyes flutter open. "Good, you're awake." A male voice sounds out and his instincts kick in as he jerks his body but discovers he's been tied to a chair. 

"Wha- let me go." He growls, voice rough from being knocked out. He needs water but he daren't ask for it. "Where's the kid?" He demands, needing to know that Ellie is safe. 

The man chuckles, "she's being taken care of, don't you worry." He promises.

 Joel hisses, "you better not touch a hair on her fucking head otherwise I'll destroy you." He threatens and the man snorts, "we got your guns, we got your kid, and you're tied up. All you got is your mouth." 

Joel chuckles, his vision clearing as he glances around the room. "That's all I need." He assures him with a cocky chuckle as he assesses the room, his eyes widening slightly when he sees a naked woman standing there, gun pressed against her head. "What - what the fuck is this?" He demands, stomach twisting with unease.

You shake, shivering from the cold and the fear. “I- they-“ the gun presses into your temple harder and you choke out a cry before you answer. “You have to fuck me.” You manage. “What? No.” The man tied to the chair growls out, shaking his head. 

“Yes, you will.” The man with the gun tells him. “All we want is for you to knock her up.” He chuckles darkly. “Shouldn’t be a problem, she’s got a nice set of tits.” His hand not holding the gun slides up to cup one name you flinch. “All you gotta do is let her ride your dick.”

Joel shakes his head, "no. Fuck no. I - let me go. If you let me go now, I promise I won't kill all of you." He chuckles, "actually, I promise I will make it quick." He smirks, allowing himself to act like he isn't freaking out on the inside. You are gorgeous and he hasn't been with a woman since Tess. but he refuses to touch you, especially when you have a fucking gun held to your head. It's clear you don't want this as much as he doesn't want it.

All of the men chuckle. “Big words from a man in your position.” The one holding you snorts. “James…” you whimper, making him growl. 

“Shut up!” He hisses as he shakes you, not wanting this man to know his name. “You know why we are doing this!”

Joel swallows harshly, never liking to see a woman being abused like this. It's clear you aren't doing this voluntarily. "Why are you doing this?" Joel asks, wanting to know what the fuck this is all about. He doesn't want to get you killed but it's every man for himself in this new world.

“We had mumps go through our settlement five years ago.” One of the men tells Joel. “All our men are sterile. Except for those that have joined us. We need kids.”

"We need another father. Can't be inbreeding even in dire times. We need new DNA and we found this one a few weeks ago." He says, nudging you forward. "She can suck your cock if you want her to get you ready. She's good at it." He smirks at you and you wrinkle your nose in disgust at giving him a blow job at gun point. 

"I ain't having any kids. I got the snip." Joel lies, wanting to avoid this situation and get out of here to find Ellie.

The leader, not holding the gun, scoffs. “Too bad we know that ain’t true.” He tells Joel. “Got a doctor that used to do them back when the world wasn’t shit.” He gestures towards Joel’s unbuckled belt and unzipped pants. “No stitch scars. You ain’t been snipped.” He shrugs slightly. “Look, it’s not that hard, you get to blow a few loads inside her and then we’ll let you go.” He lies. “Won’t even make you pay child support.” The laughs are raw and mean as the other men chuckle.

Joel clenches his jaw, fucked off at being violated like that while he was unconscious. He looks over at you, your terrified eyes making him feel sick. "I don't think I can get hard when she's fucking terrified." He says, knowing that he won't get turned on in a room full of other men waiting for him to blow his load.

“She’ll get into the mood.” The one holding you promises, squeezing your tit again. “Won’t you, sweetheart?” 

You wince and nod quickly, aware that the gun at your head is the prime motivation. “Maybe we can be alone?” You beg. “I won’t- I can’t untie him.” You tell them. “Just- you can check to make sure he came inside me, but please, please, don’t make me do this while you watch.” You regret ever coming to this part of this fucking world. Planning on escaping as soon as you can from these twisted monsters. Every one of them needs to be killed and you hope that will happen soon.

The leader nods, "fine. We will leave you alone but any bullshit and you both get a bullet in the head. And you-" He looks at Joel, "your little companion will be taking her place next." He threatens and Joel feels sick, knowing that he has no choice now. It's him or Ellie and Ellie will always be his first choice. 

He nods, "fine. Leave us." He demands. The man holding you shoves you forward and you stumble, the gun leaving your head as they exit the room and you hear the lock click in place.

When the lock clicks, you start crying. “I’m sorry- I don’t- it’s not my-“ you babble, wrapping your arms around your body and turning to the side so you don’t feel so vulnerable. “I’m- I’m ovulating- that’s why they want you to fuck me.” You manage.

Joel flicks his tongue, always uncomfortable when a woman cries and this is no exception. “How did they capture you?” He asks, needing you to calm down.

“I- I was trying to make it to Wyoming.” You shake your head, feeling foolish for ending up in this situation. “I- my family used to have a ranch there. I was in college when the outbreak happened and I’d finally got out of the Kansas City QZ. The rebels took over and I escaped, I was- I got captured when I stopped by the river.”

Joel realizes how close you’ve been traveling alongside him and Ellie and he’s never seen you. “I’m going to Wyoming. My brother…he’s out there. I gotta go west.” He says, “this new world…it’s horrific. Men are monsters. You should’ve never been alone.”

You snort. “Believe me- I know. But I didn’t have anyone.” You bite your lip and look over at the man tied to the chair. “Your girl, she’ll be alright. They won’t touch her. At least not now.” You close your eyes and sigh. “I just want to go home.” You whimper, a daily thought now.

“I’ll get you home.” He promises, knowing he has to give you hope in this situation. “But I really don’t want a kid.” He confesses, “I- I had one and lost one. I know what this world does to them.” He reveals, eyes sad as he looks at you then across the room to preserve your modesty.

“I don’t- I don’t want to have a kid.” You admit quietly. “But I know they will kill us if we don’t.” You reveal. “They found another man a month ago. He couldn’t- they shot him.”

Joel swallows harshly, knowing that there’s no getting out of this. He can’t leave Ellie here. He can’t be killed and leave Ellie alone. She would be killed within hours. Either by these assholes or by someone else. He nods, “then we do what they want.” He says, flexing his fingers still tied together with zip ties.

“I’m sorry.” You apologize breathlessly. “I’m so sorry, I don’t- I never meant for this to happen.” You choke out, even as you walk towards him. “What do I- can I?”

Joel nods, his cock not remotely hard right now but he has to try. You’re a beautiful woman and he knows that if it wasn’t for the outbreak, he would’ve taken a chance to ask you out. “Do what you want. I can’t move.” He chuckles, trying to help you relax despite his heart pounding in his chest.

“I can- let me-“ you reach for his pants, looking up into his eyes. “Lift your hips for me.” You ask softly. This is a mess, but you’re in it together. “I know they cleaned you up- to prevent infection- do you want me to suck your cock to get you hard?” You ask when his cock is flaccid, flopping out of his underwear ungracefully.

He bites his lip as you loom over him and he swallows harshly, “I, uh, you don’t have to do that. Come sit on my lap and then we can, uh, see how it goes.” He says, not wanting you to feel obligated to suck his cock when you’re unwillingly having sex with him.

“Uh, okay.” You bite your lip and put your hand on his shoulder to straddle his lap. You slide onto his lap and try not to press down on him too much. You murmur your name and look into his eyes. “What’s your name? I figure we should at least introduce ourselves.”

“Joel.” He answers, his eyes on yours but they flick down to your breasts. “Shit. You really are gorgeous. I’m sorry you’re in this situation.” He murmurs, feeling guilty for finding you attractive. “What - did you have a boyfriend? Before the outbreak? Or after?”

“A few.” You feel better now. He’s not eyeing you like a piece of meat and he is handsome. “No one for a long time, no point.” You snort. “They either died from the fungus or FEDRA. I was better off alone.”

“You’re not…you’re not a virgin?” He wants to make sure he’s not taking your virginity in the worst possible fucking way. 

“No. No. Not since I was seventeen.” You snort and caress his chest, playing with the buttons of his tatty flannel. 

“Thank fuck. I, uh, I haven’t been with anyone for a while. She, uh, she got bit. Ended up blowing up a building to save me and the kid.”

“Sounds like a woman I would want to get to know.” You admit, thankful that this man isn’t one that would be looking forward to fucking you like this. It tells you more about him than anything he could tell you. “So it could be quick?” You ask, sliding up and cupping his jaw to lean close. “Hold off as long as you can to try to get the ties loose.” You whisper in his ear.

Joel nods, “I wanna take my time, baby girl.” He says loud enough for anyone listening, “been a long time since I had a woman. Wanna enjoy it.” He says despite his eyes portraying anything but enjoyment. He feels guilty even liking the fact that you’re sitting on his lap

His words are meant for the men outside, but for some reason it makes your cunt clench. “It’s- that’s good.” You admit, a little breathless at the rasp of his voice and his rugged looks. He’s handsome. There are worse men you could be forced to fuck. His teeth are still in good condition and you decide to run a finger down the curve of his jaw, letting the stubble rub against your finger. “Maybe I can cum too?”

Joel sees the desire in your eyes and it relaxes him a little. “Of course.” He murmurs, “tell me what you like.” He says, wanting to drag this out a little longer but his cock twitches against your ass as his eyes daringly dip down to your tits, feeling less ashamed of being attracted to you when he can tell you are attracted to him.

“I like having my tits sucked on.” It’s something he could do with his hands bound, so that’s a plus. “And I’m riding, so I really like to grind down on a cock when I’m doing the work.”

“Good. That’s good.” Joel murmurs and licks his lips. “You want me to, uh, suck on your tits?” He asks, wanting to make sure you’re wet enough for this while his hands continue working on getting out of the zip ties. You nod and shift closer so your breasts are in his face and he turns his head to take your nipple into his mouth.

“Oh god.” You had resigned yourself to being touched. At least it wasn’t by those assholes, but the pressure of his mouth is the perfect combination of harsh and gentle. Pulling and suckling perfectly to make the bud perk up and ache for attention. On their own, your hands move to his hair, surprisingly not greasy or gritty even though you know he had not been bathed completely. Even at the end of the world and traveling, he apparently took care of hygiene. “Fuck, Joel.”

He loves the way your fingers tangle in his hair. It feels like a lifetime since he had a moment to relax and enjoy something instead of running for his life. He groans into your flesh, his cock twitching under you as he starts to harden as he bites down on your nipple once more.

“Ohhhhh.” Your eyes close, imagining this is because you want it. Your cunt clenches again and there’s a rush of heat. Your hips start to slowly grind down on his hardening cock.

“Shit.” He hisses against your breast and he switches over, enjoying the way you grind down onto him. “Shit, sweetheart.” He murmurs, kissing along the swell of your breast as he feels himself getting harder.

He feels thick. A grower. You moan softly when he pulls your other nipple in his mouth. “That feels good.” You admit breathlessly, tugging on his hair and scratching your nails against his scalp.

He grunts, letting himself imagine that this is a different situation and he’s not being forced to knock you up. His fingers dig into his palms as he tries to break the zip ties but fails. He kisses along your chest up to your neck, breathing harshly as he gets harder and harder.

You lower your jaw, noses bumping and your lips brush against each other. “I’m going to kiss you.” You murmur. “Is that okay?”

Joel knows you shouldn’t but he wants it. Want to have some intimacy that you can control when you can’t control the fact that you are having sex with him. He tilts his head so he can press his lips to yours.

As soon as your lips touch, you push your tongue inside his mouth. Wanting to take as much control as you can of the situation. You don’t think he minds. Not the way he’s groaning and his tongue slides against yours. You press close, grinding down on his now completely hard cock.

Your moan into his mouth has him ready for you. His hips jerk up to grind against you, groaning into your mouth when he feels how wet you are. “You ready for me baby?” He asks softly as you pull back for a second.

“Yes.” You could probably be wetter, but he won’t hurt you. You kiss him once more and spit in your hand when you pull back. Reaching between you, you wrap your hand around him and pump. Feeling him twitch in your hand, you clench again as you notch him at your entrance.

He inhales sharply at the feel of your hot flesh starting to engulf him as you start to sink down onto his cock. “Fuck.” He hisses, closing his eyes to control himself. It’s been so long since he felt this kind of embrace. He and Tess always used protection that FEDRA would sell in exchange for credits and he hasn’t been with a woman like this since long before outbreak day. “Take it slow. Don’t hurt yourself.” He says softly, eyes opening to watch your expressions.

He’s thick, long, pushing up into you and you're still not completely engulfing him. “Fuck.” You moan quietly, leaning toward and burying your head into his neck. “So big.”

He smirks, unable to conceal the spark of pride at you being slightly breathless at taking him inside of you. “Take it easy.” He murmurs, turning his head to kiss along your neck as you slowly rock your hips to take him until your thighs are flush against his. “That’s it. Good girl.” He murmurs, “takin’ me so well.”

Despite his reluctance to do this, his dirty talk is in top form and you clench around his length at the way he coos at you. “Fuck, Joel.” You whimper quietly. “Keep talking and I will cum.”

He groans, wanting to make this good for you when you’ve suffered a terrible fate to get to this point. There’s no way he will let you go now that he’s possibly going to get you pregnant. “So tight around me.” He says, wishing he could touch you. His hands wiggle around the zip ties and he kisses your neck again.

Tilting your head so he can have more access to you, you settle down onto him completely. Feeling him deep inside you, you know that if he were in charge and fucking you harshly, he would rearrange your guts. "So big." you whine softly. "Everything's tight to you." You roll your hips slightly and start to pull up off his length, eager to feel him move inside you.

He kisses along your neck, "take what you want, baby. Want you to feel good. Want you to cum for me." He demands against your skin, "want you to fuckin' soak me." He groans as you rock on top of him.

"Jesus." You never had a man who wanted your pleasure for himself. Most were happy that you just let them fuck you, but you have a feeling that if Joel was in control, that he would be making sure that you were cumming on his tongue or fingers. "I will." You pant quietly.

He still tries to untie his hands, desperate to touch you but you keep distracting him by grinding down onto his cock like it's the last thing you'll do. In this new world, it could be. "Wish I could touch you. Wanna - arch your back for me." He demands and you do as he says so he leans forward to wrap his lips around your nipple.

“Oh god, it feels so good.” You whimper, loving how he’s twitching inside you every time you clench around him. It’s nothing short of a miracle, it's not rough and dirty. You’ll take the beauty of the moment and be thankful for it, a rarity in your world now.

Your fingers slide through his hair and he groans into your flesh, loving how you clench around him and he wishes he could break free and show you how could he can be, fuck you harder unto you are screaming his name in pleasure. So loud that those motherfuckers outside hear it all. He licks along the swell of your tit and kisses your sternum. “Feel so good, baby girl.” He murmurs, “so good for me.”

“So big.” You moan quietly, circling your hips and lifting off to push back down on him. “You feel so good. So thick.” It’s like having an itch you didn’t realize you had being scratched. It makes you want more, so you speed up.

He groans as you start to rock on his cock, his fingers flexing as he tries to break the zip ties and he breathes harshly through his nose as you rock a little faster. “Take what you need.” He demands, “rub your clit.”

Moaning, you hang on to Joel while sliding one hand down to obey his order. Loving how he’s trying to prioritize your pleasure in these circumstances. Your fingers swirl around your engorged clit and you whimper in pleasure, walls pulsing around him. “Joel.”

He loves the way you moan and whimper his name. “That’s it baby. Make yourself cum. Use me for what you need and then I’ll fill you up like a good girl.” He promises, knowing that the end result will be the same but he wants you to enjoy this before the chaos starts.

His words go straight through you, making you clench down around him while your fingers rub your clit faster. Feeling your orgasm starting to build as you ride his cock. “I’ll be good.” You pant. “I’ll cum, I want to cum for you. Feels so, fuckkkkkkk-” You squeal when Joel snaps his hips up and it pushes you over the edge. Cunt spasming around his cock and soaking him as you cum harder than you have in years

Joel groans as you soak him, clamping down on his cock in a vice tight than anything he’s felt in so long. He pants as he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to keep himself from cumming too soon but it’s been too long. “Fuck. I’m gonna - I’m gonna- oh shit. You need to pull off if you want to go again.”

You know you should prolong it, if he wants to get out of the ties. Reluctantly, you lift off his cock and slump against his chest, “how much longer before you break them?” You whisper in his ear.

“Gimme a few minutes.” He says roughly, both to calm down and to get the zip ties undone. Those bastards tied them extra fucking tight and Joel can’t break them as easily behind his back. “Wanna make this good for you.” He says a little louder, “make you cum again.”

There’s a harsh banging against the door. “Hurry the fuck up!” One of the men shouts. You snort but Joel just shakes his head. 

“You want me to cum? I need time!” He bellows back, smirking slightly at you. It’s kind of sexy how defiant he is and you lean in to kiss his jaw.

Joel hums, turning his head to press his lips against yours as you caress his shoulders. “Wanna put me back in? I’ve calmed down now.” He smirks, “want you to cum again for me.”

“Okay.” You reach down and moan when he twitches in your hand again as you line yourself up. “You’ve got a great cock.” You praise breathless when you start to sink down again.

“Thanks.” He murmurs, knowing that’s not something that he hears every day and he groans when you engulf him again. “You, uh, you have a great pussy. So tight and wet.” He says, a little awkwardly as he doesn’t really do compliments but for you, you deserve it.

“It’s just been awhile.” The fact that you are teasing him in this situation is a miracle, but you’ve had to keep a sense of humor since the outbreak or you would have gone crazy. “Any pussy would feel great.”

Joel wants to roll his eyes but he doesn’t, “you gonna make yourself cum again on my cock?” He asks, wanting to hear those sweet cries of pleasure again. This moment is for you. Fuck those assholes outside. They don’t control this moment. You do.

“Yes.” You pant breathlessly, settling down on him again and clenching down around him. “Gonna cum again on the best dick I’ve ever had. You’re so good, baby.”

“So good.” Joel murmurs, “want you to take what you need.” He says and he leans in to kiss your chest, licking along your collarbone. You almost taste sweet but that could be because you’re clean. It’s hard to maintain hygiene when you’re traveling like he has been.

When he’s saying that, it’s almost easy to believe that this is just for you and him. That there’s not men on the other side of the door that want to use you as a broodmare. You moan and turn your head to whimper his name in his ear.

He groans when you whimper his name, his cock twitching inside of you. “Baby. Baby. You gotta - need you to make yourself cum again. Nearly got the ties off.” He whispers the last part, knowing that he won’t be able to hold off his orgasm much longer.

“Okay, okay, I’m gonna cum.” You promise, reaching between your bodies and rubbing your clit. If he can get the ties off before he cums, he can pull you off his cock. Then you can both work on getting out of here. Hopefully he wasn’t lying when he said he would take you home. Even company on the road would be better than traveling alone.

Joel groans when you start to move and rub your clit. He wishes he could take over and he tugs on the zip ties, wanting to get out of them, and he watches you as you pleasure yourself using his body. “Keep going. Want you to cum for me.”

“Yes, yes.” You are practically galloping on his cock, riding him as fast as your body will move, feet pushing you up from the floor as gravity brings you back down. Making you grunt every time he hits so deep inside of you and pushes you close to the edge.

“That’s it. That’s it, sweetheart.” Joel grunts as you rock on top of him. “Make that sweet pussy gush for me.” He demands, his cock twitching inside of you and he desperately wants to see you cum again.

His words send a shiver down your spine, gasping out when his cock twitches and hits something divine inside you. Throwing you over the edge with a warbled cry of his name as you clamp down around him.

Joel hisses at the way you clamp down on his cock, soaking him again and he clenches his jaw, thrusting up into you as you soak him. “Fuck. Im - im gonna cum.” He pants as he clenches his eyes shut just before he falls over the edge. His cock twitching violently inside of you as he paints your walls and the force of his orgasm has him ripping free of the zip ties.

It shouldn’t feel good. It should horrify you that he just came inside you. But you can’t move, can’t react as your body holds you suspended on his cock as he rocks up into you.

Joel groans as he rides out his orgasm, his hands coming up to grab your back to keep you pressed against him as his lips find yours to smother his groan. “Fuck.” He mutters into your mouth as his cock pulses inside of you.

You pour yourself into the kiss, knowing that you will have to stop soon. He’s free, now you both need to be free. Free of this horrible place.

Joel pulls back from the kiss and looks at you, “I’m gonna keep my hands behind my back when they come in. Want you to go along with what they want until I whistle, okay?” He says, wanting you to know he has a plan to get you out of this.

“Okay.” You nod and pull off his cock with a slight moan so you can pull his pants back up. He can’t fight with his pants down and his cock out.

The door flings open moments later, having realized the moans have stopped, and the men come in. “Done the job?” They ask and Joel keeps his hands behind his back as he nods. 

“Yes. All done.” He says, jerking his chin towards you and they drag you off of his lap, making his jaw clench as they kick your legs apart to make sure he came inside of you. 

“Look at that creamy mess. She’s gonna make a cute little mama. She’ll be a horny one and I’m sure she will want a cock to sit on.” He chuckles and you wince. 

Joel clenches his jaw, “yeah. That ain’t gonna be happening.” He promises, whistling at you and he stands up from the chair, making the man’s eyes widen and he shoves you away just as Joel grabs the chair to swing it around and whack him in the face.

All you can do is watch, eyes wide as Joel goes feral. He’s brutal. Dropping the chair and grabbing the gun from the other man and turning around to pistol whip the other. The man in the ground is groaning and struggling to his hands and knees before you move over and kick him in the stomach for the vulgarity of him.

Joel wasted no time grabbing the gun and he grabs the knife from the other man, slitting his throat before he repeats the action with the other man on the ground. It’s violent and bloody but they won’t scream for help if they are gargling on their blood and no one will be alerted to the fact that he’s free. He shrugs off his jacket hands it to you to put on as he holds the gun up and carefully strides down the hall, “stay behind me.” He demands as he escorts you through the compound, determined to find Ellie.

Wrapping his jacket around your nude body, you follow behind him. Sticking close and wishing you had your shoes at least. They had ordered you to strip and you don’t know what they did with your clothes. “The little girl. She would be at the end of the building.”

Joel nods, gun aimed as he walks down the hall to where Ellie is being held. He hears her before he sees her. “Get the fuck away from me, man. Where’s Joel? I want to talk to him. Now!” She demands and Joel wastes no time shoving the door open. 

“How the fuck did you-?” The man holding her shouts and Joel wastes no time shooting him. 

“Get your shit, kid. We are leaving.” He demands and Ellie scrambles to get her backpack.

“Who the fuck is she?” Ellie’s eyes widen when she realizes that you are naked underneath Joel’s coat. “You picking up naked women now?” She demands. 

You pull the jacket tight around you and tell the girl your name. “He saved me.” That is all you tell her, not willing to divulge what happened between you.

“We don’t have time for this. Come on.” Joel growls as he escorts you and Ellie through the halls. “Where would your clothes be?” He asks, wanting you to have something to wear before you leave this hell hole.

“They might have put them back in my room.” You tell him quietly. “Down the hall to the left and three doors down.”

Joel nods, “stay here. I’ll get them.” He says as he hands the knife to you. “Scream and slash if anyone comes along. I’ll be right back.” He promises as he rubs down the hall, finding the room empty and he grabs the clothes from the side, rushing back down the hall.

“So, uh, are you okay?” Ellie asks as she shifts awkwardly, looking up and down the hall. It’s not like Joel just adopts people, and he doesn’t seem like he’s going to leave you behind. 

“I’m- im good.” You murmur quietly.

Ellie nods, knowing that things happen and she isn’t sure she wants to know what happened to you. Joel is tense as he comes back down the hall with your clothes and boots. “Get your boots on.” He demands, knowing the rest can wait. You shove your feet in the boots and Joel nods, “stay close. No one makes a noise.” He demands as he guides you through the compound to find the exit.

It’s silent, making your heart feel like it’s pounding loud enough for everyone to hear. Freedom is so close. To get away from here is everything you’ve wanted since you’ve been brought here. Following behind the girl sandwiched between you and Joel, you figure that she is his daughter from how protective he is over her.

Joel sees the fire exit door, unguarded and the light shining through. He walks faster just as a man comes around the corner. “Fuck.” Joel grunts, raising his gun to kill the guy before he can shout. “They heard that.” Joel says as he grabs the guy’s gun from his holster and he slams the exit door open. “Go. Go. Go. Run!” He demands, shouting at you and Ellie to get out of the building. “Run into the woods.” He orders as he hears the others shouting out behind him.

Following Ellie, you run, not even daring to look back over your shoulder. Joel fires off another few shots and from the shouts, it sounds like he hit them. The brush scratches your thighs and legs as you run through the bitter wind, not bothering to try to keep the jacket closed around your body as you race for freedom.

Joel keeps running, running until all three of you collapse deep in the forest. Footsteps and shouts have faded and he feels that you can take a moment to take a breath. “Are you okay?” Joel asks Ellie breathlessly and she nods, “I’m fine.” He looks at you, walking over to you, “are you okay?”

"I'm free." You pant, closing your eyes and wrapping your arms around your body. "I- thank you." You whisper, opening your eyes again and looking up at him. "I-I'm fine, but I need to- to clean up and get dressed."

Joel nods, “there’s a stream that runs through here that we passed before they caught us.” He says, knowing he wouldn’t mind freshening up too before he has to talk to you about what happened back there. “Let’s go.” He says with a nod, knowing you’ll want to be back in your own clothes.

Pushing off the tree you had been leaning against, you start to follow Joel and Ellie again. It's easier to be behind them so they don't have to see you naked in Joel's coat and so you can continuously look over your shoulder to make sure no one is following you. "Oh thank God." You moan when you hear the water close by and break through the trees to see a small stream. It will be cold, but you need to try to wash Joel's cum out of your cunt.

“Let’s give her some privacy.” Joel says, holstering one gun and holding the other to keep guard as he guides Ellie through the brush to give you some space. 

“Why is she naked?” Ellie asks, ever inquisitive. “Long story.” Joel sighs. 

“Did she - did you and she-?” Ellie doesn’t finish the question but Joel looks at her with slightly pained eyes, “just leave it.”

Ellie's mouth drops open and she almost speaks again, but the look on Joel's face tells her that he will snap at her if she does. "Ooooookay." She huffs and shakes her head. "I thought sex would put someone in a good mood." She mumbles to herself. Down at the stream, you quickly pull off your boots and plunge into the cold water. Biting your lip to keep from screaming at the temperature, you quickly start washing your body. You don't have soap, but the cold water is better than nothing for washing away the cum between your thighs.

Joel feels the guilt closing in on him. The way he had sex with you and you didn’t want to have sex with him. You were forced and he’s struggling with that. Do you think he forced you? He swallows harshly as his eyes scan the perimeter, his ears on high alert for any noise and he spins when you come through the brush fully clothed. Your hands go up when he aims the gun at you until he lowers it. “Okay. We gotta keep moving.” He says, knowing his own wash can wait.

You shake your head, knowing that he will want to clean up. Get the residue of you off of him. You feel horrible, knowing that you took advantage of this man while he was tied up. It doesn't matter that you were forced to, you were the one who had done it. "I can watch." you offer quietly. "While you clean up. I know it would be better."

“It’s fine. Let’s move.” Joel says, knowing it’s risky to stay here for too long and it’s going to get dark soon. He wants you and Ellie as far away from that place as possible. “Ellie, come on.” He calls out as Ellie lingers behind. “We gotta move.” He says and starts to guide you through the trees.

You don't have anything but the clothes on your back. Handing the jacket back to Joel, you settle for keeping up with him. He walks briskly, obviously wanting to put plenty of distance between your little group and the men who were chasing you. Biting your lip, you wonder what will happen when you stop, if he will want to part ways, or if he will keep his word.

Joel sighs as walks as far as he can before it gets too dark. “We will set up camp here. I’ll take watch. We leave as soon as the sun rises. I want to get to Wyoming as fast as possible before anything else goes to shit.”

You shake your head. “You can’t possibly stay up all night.” You protest and Ellie scoffs. 

“Good luck convincing him of that.” She huffs, shaking her head. “It’s downright impressive how stubborn he can be.” You bite your lip and nod, aware that he could just leave you here, so you decide not to argue. Ellie sets up her sleeping bag and there’s not going to be a fire, Joel is uncomfortable starting one since they might still be looking for you.

Joel gives you his sleeping bag, knowing he won’t be using it tonight, and he settles against a tree with his gun in hand, listening to every leaf and branch and rustle in the forest. It doesn’t take Ellie long to pass out but he can tell you’re still awake. “You should get some sleep. It’s been a long day.” He murmurs softly.

You stare at his profile in the dark, wondering if he will talk about what happened or just pretend it didn’t. It seems like he’s going to pretend it didn’t when the silence hangs between you. “Wake me when you get tired.” You finally whisper. “It’s been a long day for you too.”

Joel doesn’t respond with anything other than a nod and he watches you as you curl into his sleeping bag, exhausted by the events of the day. Joel sighs softly under his breath, knowing that you are a gorgeous young woman, someone he would’ve been lucky to have had in his previous life but he’s committed too many sins to ever reap such a reward. He sends a silent prayer up, that you aren’t pregnant. It’s a death wish in this new era.

****

Doubled over, you heave, the little bit of rabbit stew and water you had coming back up. Groaning as your stomach twists and turns, the hand on your back is reassuring, even though you know you can just imagine the concern on Ellie's face. True to your thoughts, Joel had never brought up that day, what had happened between you, and neither had you. You had desperately hoped that you would get your period, that the group's efforts to breed you would have been in vain. However, two months have gone by and now you are experiencing what can only be morning sickness on your trek across to the continent. You've had to backtrack, go south, and chase your tail to get around raging rivers, blown up bridges and bypass large cities where infected might be. Now, it seems like there's going to be a fourth member of your little party.

Joel winces when he hears you retching again. It’s been two months since he was forced to fuck you and he tries to deny the reality of what is happening but he can’t. Every day that passes, you’re in danger and he desperately needs to get you and Ellie to safety and not out in the middle of fucking nowhere.

"It's getting worse." Ellie huffs when you finally stop heaving and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand as you gasp for breath. It's been taking it out of you and you know that you've been slowing them down. You being sick has made you weaker and able to travel less. It wouldn't surprise you if Joel ended up leaving you out here on your own. "Joel! It's getting worse." Ellie barks at Joel where he is scanning the area again. "We need to get her some medicine or something."

Joel bites his lip, “it’s not medicine that she needs, kid.” 

Ellie frowns, “then how the fuck is she gonna stop throwing up?” Ellie hisses, eyebrows raised and Joel shakes his head, looking at you, almost pleading with you to say it’s not so but deep down, he knows it’s happening.

"Time." You croak out, finally catching your breath and straightening. "It'll go away eventually. It just takes time." You know that Ellie is smart, she will figure it out, but right now, you don't need her worrying about it. 

“So why aren't me and Joel sick?" She demands and you shrug your shoulders. "Just my lucky little virus, I guess."

Ellie scoffs, “I don’t want to be catching that.” Joel swallows harshly and he adjusts the rifle over his shoulder. 

“You won’t.” He says, “it’s just her.” He grabs your water bottle and hands it to you, his dark eyes focusing on you.

"Thanks." You murmur quietly while Ellie mutters to herself. Taking a large drink, sighing, and wiping your mouth again. "I'm okay, Ellie." You promise her. "Why don't we keep on? I'm hoping we can find a house to sleep in tonight."

Joel nods, “it’s gonna be dark soon and it’s getting colder. We need a better shelter. Let’s keep going.” He says, knowing that he can focus on this. On survival. He can keep you and Ellie safe. This new development….he doesn’t know how he’s gonna handle it.

It takes you a moment to move once Ellie shuffles away. Aware that Joel’s eyes are still on you, but you don’t talk about it. Instead, you shuffle the small pack he had found for you up on your shoulders as you try not to freak out about being pregnant.

You walk for a couple more hours before you end up finding an abandoned house. It’s nothing fancy but it's a shelter from the cold wind and it’s warm. “Come on, let’s get inside.” Joel says, setting his rifle down as you and Ellie get inside of the cabin. “I’ll go see if I can find a rabbit or something. Get some wood for a fire.” He gestures to the empty fireplace.

“God, a fire.” You moan quietly. “Being warm when I sleep.” It’s been some time since you’ve slept under a roof and you are looking forward to it. Especially because you’re sure it’s going to rain tomorrow. You might be here for a day or so. “Let’s go collect some wood and see if we can find some water.” You tell Ellie as you drop your bag. “Maybe there’s some clothes in the bedrooms we can go through.”

Joel makes his way out into the woods, knife and gun in hand as he listens for any wildlife and his heart is pounding. You’re pregnant. He inhales sharply, suddenly feeling his lungs contract and he feels like he can’t breathe. Bending over, he closes his eyes and his heart is pounding. He failed Sarah. He’s failing Ellie. He’s going to fail you and the baby. He’s going to fail.

“You’re not like, gonna die, right?” Ellie asks as you both haul an armful of wood back to the small cabin. You had told her that the weather might get bad and it could be a good idea to get extra wood. The idea of spending a day or so with walls and roof around you seems positively luxurious, especially in bad weather. “I don’t think so.” You don’t want to tell her right now that you're pregnant, but soon you will have to. It’s horrible, but you wonder if Joel hopes you might lose the small little bean that’s growing in your belly. It’s not like he wanted a baby and this world isn’t made for babies anymore.

Joel inhales deeply, trying to catch his breath and he opens his eyes. It’s hard to think about becoming a father again and he tries to calm down. His heart pounding in his chest and he rubs his chest, trying to stop it. His mouth is dry and he gives himself a moment to gather his composure before he resumes his venture to find dinner.

Once you both have brought a good pile of wood inside, you start to poke around in the kitchen. Hoping that you might find a few cans of food or some sturdy pots to boil water in. You need to stay hydrated more than normal with your morning sickness.

Joel returns to the cabin with two rabbits, his blood pressure returns to normal, and he locks the door once it’s shut behind him. “Got two. Should be plenty for all of us.” Joel says, heading into the kitchen so he can work on skinning the rabbits and getting them on the fire that you and Ellie have prepped.

"There was a well." You announce. "We've hauled in a shit ton of water and the kid is already dreaming about a hot sponge bath." You tell him from the fire. You can't watch him skin the rabbits right now, your stomach would revolt.

Joel works fast to skin the rabbits and prepare them for cooking. He spears them and places them over the fire before he shrugs off his jacket, glancing at you across the room as you pour water into smaller buckets to heat up. “I’m sure everyone could use a clean up.”

“Damn right, you stink.” Ellie huffs, dramatically waving her hand in front of her nose. 

You snort at the frown on Joel’s face and shake your head. “It’s hard work crossing the country.” You remind her.

Ellie chuckles, “too fucking right it is.” 

Joel huffs, “language.” He reminds her and she rolls her eyes as he turns the rabbits. “Go clean up, kid. Dinner won’t be too long.” He says after the buckets of water are warmed and you help her carry them into the bathroom.

“I found a couple of cans.” You tell Joel. “Stuck them in Ellie’s bag.” The labels were long since peeled, but the cans weren’t swollen, so there is a good chance the food inside is still good. “And there’s some clothes that might fit you.”

Joel nods as he spins the rabbits. “That’s good. This shirt is getting ratty. Too thin with the colder weather coming in on us. How are you…how are you feelin’?” He asks softly, “do you think you’re - that you got-?” He can’t finish the sentence, too terrified to know the answer despite already knowing it deep down.

You sigh softly, knowing the conversation had to come eventually. “There were some larger clothes that I stuffed in my bag when Ellie wasn’t looking. For when I can’t fit these.” You tell him quietly. “I’m sorry. If you want to leave with Ellie in the morning, leave me behind, I’ll understand. You didn’t ask for this.”

Joel shifts away from the fire, coming over to you. “You didn’t ask for this either. Those bastards…they forced you - they forced us. Now, we face the reality of what happened and I- I am not a man to run away from my responsibility. You’ll stay with me and Ellie. You will have this baby and I will use everything in me to protect you all. With my life.” He promises.

“I don’t want you to do that.” You shake your head and frown. “Ellie needs you. She’s important.” Over the course of the last two months, you’ve learned why they are on the road and why he’s so protective over her. “If it comes down to you or me and the baby, you choose yourself.”

Joel scoffs, “you gotta be fucking kidding me, baby?” He says and shifts closer. “I will never choose myself over you and the baby. Never.” He hisses, “I don’t give a fuck about my life. I am here to protect you and Ellie and now this baby. That’s my life. That’s my duty.” He says with conviction.

You don’t agree with him, Ellie is more important than you, but you don’t argue. You can see the set of his jaw, he won’t change his mind. Instead, you look back at the fire. “There’s bad weather moving in,” you tell him quietly. “Ellie and I gathered enough wood to stay if it doesn’t blow through in the night.”

“Then we will see it out. Are you hungry?” He asks, knowing you must be. He is and he isn’t the one growing a child inside of him. God, a baby. His child. His heart twists and he wonders if it’s a boy or a girl. It doesn’t matter either way as long as they are healthy and safe but he is terrified he’s going to fail them.

“I’m starving.” You admit sheepishly. “Getting sick hasn’t been helping but it feels like I’ve not eaten in a week.” Even though you are ravenous, you won’t take more than either one of them. All three of you need to keep up your strength. “Soon enough Ellie will find out too.” You remind him. “What do we tell her? Do you- um, do you want her to think it’s someone else’s baby?”

Joel shakes his head, “she’s not stupid. We will tell her it’s mine and that we were forced into having sex. Ellie is - she’s beyond her years and I know that she won’t judge us. She needs to know if we are to be a unit.” Joel says softly, already deciding to give up some of his portion so he can make sure you have enough food.

You sigh softly, aware that you are a burden to him. He didn’t want another kid and here you are pregnant. “At least we will be warm and cozy tonight.” You change the subject, looking around the cabin. “This place must have been cute twenty years ago.”

Joel looks around and nods, “yeah. I used to build houses with my brother. We had a construction company. Seems like a lifetime ago now.” He sighs, thinking of Tommy. “Do you, uh, what do you want? A girl or a boy?” He asks after a moment.

It takes you a minute to realize he’s asking about the baby. Surprising you again, although you can see Joel being a man who worked with his hands before the outbreak. “I don’t really care if it’s a boy or girl.” You admit, your hand drifting down to your stomach. “As long as they are healthy, right?”

Joel nods, “healthy is all that matters. I, uh, I had a daughter. Before the outbreak. Her name was Sarah. She was shot on the day and I- I - I died that day too.” He admits quietly, staring into the fire.

“Oh god.” Your heart sinks and your eyes start to water. You can’t imagine how he felt losing his daughter. “I’m so sorry, Joel.” You reach out and touch his arm. “Nothing I can say will make it okay, but I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t push you away like he would everyone else. You are connected to him now and you deserve to know who he is, even the ugly dark parts of him he’s hidden away. He takes your hand in his, squeezing it, “thanks. I miss her every second of every day but Ellie…she gave me a new purpose.”

“She’s a special girl, I can see why you’ve grown attached to her.” You murmur. “She’s amazingly resilient. I don’t know if I could have survived all of this when I was her age. I was so innocent.” You snort, amused at how naive you had been at her age.

Joel chuckles, “ain’t we all at that age? It was a different time. We were allowed to be naive. She isn’t.” He sighs after a second and lets go of your hand so he can take the rabbits off of the fire. “Can you go tell the kid dinner is ready? She will soak all night if you let her.”

“I will.” You had found some metal dishes, ones that you can take with you, and cleaned them up. It will be a proper dinner tonight. Making your way to the small bathroom, you knock on the door. “Ellie? Dinner is ready, okay?” She huffs but agrees and you grin at the attitude teenagers give as you go back into the main area.

Joel serves up the rabbit onto the plates, serving you and Ellie more than him and he brings the plates over to the rickety table, setting them down. “Eat.” He orders you when you appear back in the room.

You frown when you see only two plates and shake your head. “Where’s yours?” You demand, not wanting him to go without.

“I’ll get meat off of the bones.” He says, knowing he can get more from the bone than you or Ellie. Ellie doesn’t like chewing from the bone.

You want to argue but you know it will do no good. Joel is determined to make sure that you and Ellie are taken care of and you can’t fight him your entire pregnancy. You resolve to make sure that he has plenty of meat when you are done. “There’s a pot we can make a stew with tomorrow?” You offer, knowing that would stretch the food supply that you find. “It’s not heavy. I can carry it.”

Joel bites his lip, not liking the idea of you carrying anything at all. “Until it’s too heavy. Then I’ll take it.” He commands as Ellie comes out of the hall, dressed in new clothes and her hair wet. 

“Fuck yes. I'm starving.” She groans as she sits down at the table and immediately digs into the food.

You eat more slowly, drinking a lot of water since you’ve been sick and chuckling to yourself as Ellie chokes down the food like she’s not eaten in years. “Slow down, you don’t want to make yourself sick.”

Ellie nods, “don’t wanna be like you. Getting sick and shit.” 

You chuckle softly and nod, glancing over at Joel. “Fair enough.” You hum and Joel nibbles on the bones, enjoying the flavor of the meat. 

“Slow down.” Joel tells Ellie after a second, “don’t need you throwin’ up around here.”

You snort when she rolls her eyes, but starts to slow down. All of you continue to eat in silence and Joel frowns when you push your half eaten plate towards him. “I can’t eat anymore.” You tell him truthfully. The water is sloshing in your belly. “Besides, if I get sick in the morning, it will just be a waste.”

Joel narrows his eyes at you slightly, trying to discern if you are being truthful and he reluctantly takes the plate, picking up the remaining rabbit to eat it. “Try to keep it down. You need to eat and keep your energy up.” He tells you, “and plenty of rest.”

Ellie snorts. “Okay, dad.” She huffs sarcastically. “Jesus, you act like she’s pregnant or something.” You freeze for a split second before you laugh, trying to make that thought disappear.

Joel looks at you before he looks at Ellie and she picks up the look. “Oh shit. She’s - you’re - you’re pregnant?” She chokes and you glance back at Joel. 

“She is.” He declares, “we, uh, when those assholes took us a couple of months back…they tied me up and uh, they made us have sex. And from that…she’s pregnant.” Joel explains as simply as he can.

“Assholes!” Ellie huffs, indignant on your behalf and you bite your lip. You hadn’t wanted to tell her at all, but she would have figured it out. 

“So now you know why you can’t catch what’s making me sick.”

Ellie nods, surging forward to hug you and you’re surprised but return it. “You didn’t deserve that. Neither of you did but I’m excited for a baby. Wonder if it’s gonna look like you or Joel. Hopefully you.” She says, “are you guys together?” She asks and you shake your head. 

Joel bites his lip, “we, uh, we didn’t - it was once to save our lives and I’m gonna be here for you and her and the baby. No matter what.”

He couldn’t look more awkward if he tried and all the dreams you have been having about Joel while sleeping just fizzle away. Reminding you that he hadn’t wanted you, it was just circumstance that had caused this, and a fucked up circumstance at that. “It’s better that we aren’t.” You tell her lightly, reaching out and tugging on her hair. “You don’t have to watch us kiss or hear us late at night.”

Ellie wrinkles her nose, “I can’t even imagine you kissing anyone.” 

You snort and Joel rolls his eyes, “finish your food.” He orders, picking up his canteen and gulping down some water. He can’t let you know that he thinks about that time with you every night. He thinks about how you felt, how you smelt, how he wants to touch you again. In the past two months, he’s gotten to know more about you and it’s hard to deny that he likes you.

When the rabbits are gone, you collect the plates and wash everything in the five gallon bucket of water you had kept aside for that and bite your lip. “We still have enough water for both of us to wash.” You offer Joel. “Do you want to go first?”

Joel shakes his head, "you go first. Take your time and relax." He insists, "Ellie, it's time for bed." He says, "I'm gonna do a scan of the area before I lock us in." He says, grabbing his rifle.

“Awww man, I’m gonna get to sleep on a mattress.” She huffs happily, pulling her sleeping bag out of her bag and setting it down on the old bedding you had dragged out into the main room. Figuring it would be better to sleep next to the fire than in the bedroom.

Joel smiles to himself as he exits the cabin, his ears on high alert for any intruders as the smoke from the chimney billows into the night sky. He clutches the gun as he walks around the perimeter, wanting to make sure you and Ellie are safe before he retreats back into the cabin. He’s glad Ellie knows. He’s gonna need all the help he can get on this trek to find Tommy. Time is of the essence.

In the bathroom, you strip down with a sigh and crawl into the tub. Groaning quietly as you slip into the cool water, it’s still warmer than you’re used to and that is a pleasure. You want to enjoy this and spend a little time relaxing while you can.

Joel settles in to first watch as you come out of the bathroom dressed in new clothes. “Get some sleep, sweetheart. Who knows when the next time we get to sleep in somewhere like this.” You nod, shifting to lay down on the mattress inside of your sleeping bag. 

**** 

Joel wipes his face, the wind whipping in his face and he glances back at you and Ellie behind him. The snow is falling and you are struggling. Your bump is round and pushing against your coat and every damn minute has Joel close to a heart attack when you stumble or get tired. He’s failed you. It’s taken too long to get you to Wyoming and he knows deep down you hate him for dragging you across the fucking country.

You pant quietly, aware that Joel has to keep slowing down for you. It’s been miserable and it seems like your luck never seems to get better. You stumble slightly, Ellie reaching out to steady you in the deepening snow. “We need to stop!” She shouts ahead to Joel but you shake your head. 

“No! Keep going. I’m fine.” Your back is aching and pinging with pain, but you know that you need to go farther to find shelter for the night.

Joel turns back to look at you, seeing the way your brow is pinched. “We gotta keep going. Find shelter. We can’t be out in this.” He shouts and keeps his rifle pointed just in case someone sneaks up on you. His eyes constantly scan the horizon for any sign of a shelter. The darkness draws in until he finally calls it, finding a cave near the river to shelter in. “Come here, sweetheart.” He says, helping you sit down on your sleeping bag. “You need water?” He asks as he gets your flask.

“Please.” You reach for the water, panting slightly. It’s been hard today, your body aching more than normal and the baby has been kicking like crazy. Joel’s been amazing through this all, although you know he’s getting frustrated with how long this is taking. Having a pregnant woman slowing him down wasn’t something he had anticipated.

He hands the bottle to you, shifting to kneel down and his hand rests on your stomach, feeling the kicks. “Christ. They are active. Your back must be aching. Lay down. Ellie - let’s get some wood for a fire and then I’ll find us some food.” Joel says, knowing he needs to find extra. You need your strength and he’s been trying to go without so you have more for the time comes for you to give birth. He’s terrified. Fucking terrified of that moment and it’s any day now.

“I-I’m fine.” You insist even though you are exhausted. “Just need to rest.” You want nothing more than for Joel to pull you into his arms and maybe rub your back, but your stomach is pretty much all he will touch. “Don’t go on my account.”

He wants to laugh and say it’s the least he can do but he can’t. He sighs and stands up, glancing at Ellie who nods. “Watch her and I’ll be back. Don’t go too far.” He orders as he grabs his rifle and ventures into the darkness to find your dinner.

“Are you okay?” Ellie asks quietly, her serious face as she watches you closely. “I’m good.” You promise. “Just tired and fat.”

Ellie shakes her head, “you aren’t fat. You’re growing a fucking baby. That’s insane. It’s crazy that a baby is gonna come out of your vagina. I do not fucking envy that.” Ellie shivers in disgust.

You let out a small laugh, secretly having the same thought. You’ve tried hard to hide the fact that you’re terrified from her. It won’t do any good to have her upset about something that you can’t change. “We need to start a fire.” You groan. “Give me a minute and I’ll help you find some wood.”

Ellie nods as you stand up, groaning out as you struggle with the surge of pain. Ellie helps you up, holding onto your arms. Meanwhile, Joel is hunting, his ears pricked up to hear any rustling. His heart is pounding and he knows it's the anxiety again. He is terrified of you having the baby. He's already failed you. He hasn't found Tommy and you're in the middle of nowhere. He's already failed his child and he feels sick about it.

You constantly ache now, every fiber of your being protesting in pain. Although you know that it’s just because you’re pregnant, you also fear that you might be going into labor. You can’t tell Joel or Ellie that, they will freak out. The pain passes and you sigh, thinking that it’s not so bad right now.

Joel returns with a few rabbits, the fire started by Ellie and he works fast to skin and gut the rabbits before he sets them on the fire to cook. “You doin’ okay, sweetheart?” He asks you, seeing the sweat on your forehead. “You sick?”

“Hot flash.” You lie with a grin. “Don’t know how, but your kid is making me boil in the middle of winter.” You laugh. “Good thing I’m not pregnant during the summer, I would have never survived without air conditioning.”

Joel nods, handing you some water. He refilled the flasks down at the river. His stomach twists with the words “your kid” and the reality hits him again. “Christ. It’s too fucking dead out here. There’s nothing. Not even a cabin. You’re about to pop and I- I have failed you.” He whispers when Ellie goes to set up her sleeping bag.

“You haven’t failed me.” You scoff, shaking your head at him. “You got me away from that place, you’ve protected me. Kept me fed and safe.” You haven’t failed me.” It’s sobering to realize that he’s upset about things you can’t change.

Joel swallows harshly and shakes his head, “I gotta get you somewhere safe before you give birth. We have nothing for a baby.” He says, glancing back at the fire. “We need to make sure we can get more clothes to make diapers or something.”

“I’ve been saving our clothes as they wear out.” You admit. “My bag is full of them. I just need to cut them up into diapers.”

Joel realizes how much more prepared you are both physically and mentally for this baby than he is. He didn’t even think of that. He nods and reaches for your hand, “great idea. This - it will be fine.” He says more to himself than to you.

You hold onto his hand for a moment, knowing that it’s the closest you will get to him again. “It will be fine.” You echo. “Women have been having kids for thousands of years.”

Joel nods, knowing it's true but he needs to make sure you're safe and in an environment where your child can be born safe and without fear. He swallows down some water and he gets the rabbits on the fire.

He’s watching you closely, so every time you grunt in pain, he looks over. “Baby’s active.” You explain and he nods. The baby has been kicking more, so it is plausible. Maybe this is just those fake labor pains you used to hear about when you talked about this kind of thing. It seems like a million years ago. “Do you- uh, you do have any names you’d want?” You ask curiously.

Joel licks his dry lips, knowing that he hadn’t really thought about a name. Thinking about names makes it all real and he’s struggled enough with the reality of becoming a father again. “I haven’t really thought about it.” He confesses, “haven’t really had time. Do you have any names?” He asks, wondering what you have pondered. This is your first child and he knows that you must’ve thought about names.

“I - it’s so hard to think about.” You admit quietly. “All the names I’ve thought about have memories attached and it’s a lot more than being able to name them. I don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl.” You bite your lip. “What- did Sarah have a middle name? Do you?”

Joel bites his lip, “Sarah’s middle name was Alexandra because my middle name is Alexander. So…Alex.” He says, “could work for both.” He snorts with a soft smile as he remembers the day he and his ex decided on Sarah’s name after she was born.

“Alex.” You smile softly at the name and think that it’s perfect. “Would it be….too painful if I named the baby that?” You don’t want to hurt him, reminding him of the child he lost. Nor do you want him to think you are trying to replace Sarah, just….honor her a little.

Joel reaches for your hand, “not at all. I think it’s perfect.” He promises, his heart aching at the thought of his baby girl but she’s gone and this baby is coming. He can love Sarah with his entire being and still be a father to this new baby. “Are you feeling okay?” He asks when he feels you squeeze his hand.

“I’m okay.” You promise, nodding quickly. “Just-“ you grunt slightly. “Hard to find a comfortable way to sit, or lay, or exist right now.” You joke, hoping he accepts that answer. “If it wasn’t freezing, I’d probably be looking for the nearest body of water to float in to feel like less of a cow.”

“You ain’t a cow. You are…you are beautiful.” Joel murmurs, letting go of your hand so you can find a comfortable position. “I know this baby isn’t coming into the world that we knew and it’s…it scares me to death to think about all the things that could happen to them but you gotta know, I’ll protect you, Ellie, and this baby until my dying breath.”

“Can you please stop talking about dying?” You ask softly, not wanting to let Ellie overhear. “That scares me. So much.” You blow out a breath. “I- you protect us so much better than I can, I can’t- not having you here-“ you choke up, eyes filling with tears. “I’m sorry…” you whimper. “Hormones.” Wiping your eyes, you try to compose yourself. “I don’t want to think about any of our dying breaths right now.”

Joel nods, reaching up to gently wipe your tear away, his hand cupping your cheek as his dark eyes meet yours. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll fight tooth and nail to stay with you and the kids as long as possible.” He assures you, his hand still on your cheek.

There’s a moment where you think that he’s being tender. That there’s a hint of affection for you, before his eyes shift again. His walls go back up. You don’t sigh, but you want to. Instead, you nod against his hand, nuzzling into it slightly. “Thank you.” You murmur quietly

He drops his hand from your cheek and glances over as Ellie settles on her sleeping bag while the rabbit cooks. “It’s okay. We will figure it all out.” He promises and turns his attention back to the rabbit cooking over the fire.

Your own comfort is now down to zero as you shift, trying to find the best way to lay and ease the tension in your back. At least there is a rock outcrop to lean against and you sigh when you have to pee again. “Ellie, help me up.” You ask softly. “I have to pee.”

Ellie nods, shifting off of her sleeping bag to help you up. “Geez, I am glad I don’t like boys.” She murmurs and you chuckle, “pregnancy sucks.” You tell her and she snorts, “I can tell.” Joel cuts up the rabbits, placing it in the tins you have been carrying to use as bowls.

Waddling off for a little privacy, you groan quietly and clutch your stomach. You do need to pee, but you needed a second away from their concern more. “Fuck”. You whimper. “Just- just let me get through the night.” You tell yourself and any other higher power that might be listening. “We need tonight.”

The next morning, Joel can see how weary you are, the redness in your eyes from lack of sleep and he’s worried. Every day could be the day the baby comes and he needs to get you somewhere safe. “You doing okay?” He asks, wanting to make sure you’re okay when he can see how you’re struggling.

“Didn’t sleep.” You don’t mention that Joel had passed out and both you and Ellie had let him sleep. He’s constantly exhausted and it’s starting to wear him down. “I’ll be okay.” You murmur. “We need to move.”

Joel nods, knowing you need to rest but he also needs to get you somewhere safe. When you come across the cabin, Joel is excited to find shelter until the woman tries to shoot him and misses. He wrangles her and ties her up, managing to get out of her that her husband is coming home soon.

Once the woman realizes that you are pregnant, she makes you and Ellie some soup. Making you sit down in a comfortable chair that has you moaning in pleasure. “She will give birth soon.” She predicts as she sits down in the chair opposite you, ignoring Joel and the gun. “Her spirit is strong.”

Joel clenches his jaw, on edge in case it's more than just her husband who is returning. When the man comes back, his own gun is raised and he reprimands his wife for letting Joel in until he sees you, sitting pregnant in his favorite chair. "She needs a safe place to give birth." He says, knowing that won't be his cabin. It's bad enough to have Joel and the women in his home for this amount of time.

“I'm fine.” You hiss, right as a pain strikes so it just makes you look angry. “Tell him what he wants to know and we will leave.”

Joel clenches his jaw and adjusts his gun. “Don’t go south of the river. It’s only dead there.” The old man tells Joel who glances at you for a second. “Get your stuff. We are leaving.” Joel says with a set jaw.

You bite your lip, struggling out of the chair and you sigh in relief. The pressure isn’t nearly as bad since you’ve eaten and rested, it has to be those false labor pains everyone always talks about. “Thank you.” You murmur to the old woman. “Take care of your baby.” She warns you.

Joel sighs as he escorts you and Ellie back into the wilderness. The snow is deep and the wind is freezing. “You warm enough?” He asks you when you shake, worried that’s it’s too cold for you to continue and you can’t just sit down and have a baby in the middle of fucking nowhere.

“I’m okay.” It’s like your motto now, you utter it so often, but you have to be. You can’t stay at that cabin to give birth, but you need to find somewhere safe. His hand hovers over your back and you nearly stumble in the snow.

Joel glances around, eyes narrowed to shield against the storm. “Come on baby. Let’s get movin’” He says as he escorts you along the riverbank. “We going across?” Ellie asks and Joel nods, leading the way across to the “dead” side of the river.

The bridge almost looks forbidden, but the three of you walk across it, the icy water rushing underneath. “Looks like a dam.” You grunt out, biting your lip when another pain, sharp this time, shoots across your belly.

Joel can tell something is wrong but before he can even ask you, you’re suddenly surrounded. Horses approach and he shoves you and Ellie behind him, his heart pounding in his chest as he grips his gun, outnumbered with each passing second, he’s terrified.

The men, the horses, all of it makes you clutch your stomach. Pulling Ellie behind you, to protect her while you try not to double over when another pain crashes through you.

When the dog appears, Joel freezes. When he’s told it detects the virus, he’s terrified that the dog is going to rip Ellie apart. Or attack you for some reason. His heart pounds, puffing out clouds as his breathing quickens and he feels like he’s gonna be sick as he holds his hands up. “Please.” He mouths like it’s going to make a difference and all he can do is brace himself.

You tense when the dog rushes towards you. Barking and snapping, for a second you think it’s going to bite your stomach. Until he whines and sits. Ellie’s hand in front of you and you can’t believe the girl was going to risk getting attacked for you. Watching in amazement as the dog starts to lick her. Until another pain has you doubling over and screaming in pain.

Joel spins, uncaring of the guns on him until he’s ordered to stand still. “Please. She’s pregnant. We are trying to get shelter and I’m trying to find my brother.” He says, voice shaking a little as his fists clench when he can’t do shit but stand there. 

“Joel!” You gasp and the woman on the horse looks at him, “Joel?” She asks, recognizing the name. She glances at her fellow riders and nods, making Joel frown as the guns lower slightly so he rushes over to you. 

“Sweetheart. What - oh shit.” He gasps as he sees your jeans go darker.

You whimper, feeling colder now that your water has broken and soaked your clothes. “I’m sorry, I tried-“ you grab onto his arm. “I tried to hold off.” You start to cry, knowing that you are in labor and these people are probably going to kill you all because of you.

Joel’s eyes are wide as he looks at the woman on the horse whose mouth is hanging open. “Get her inside. Now.” She orders and Joel guides you over to the horse. 

“This is gonna hurt, baby.” He warns you as he helps you up, your cry echoing in the clearing as you grunt in pain but soon you are on and Joel swings on behind you, Ellie getting on another horse. The group escorts you through the gates and Joel’s eyes widen at the sight of something he hasn’t seen in a long time: a community.

You are barely able to hold into the saddle horn, panting as you can finally breathe now that the pain has passed. Unable to even pay attention to the commotion around you as you come to terms with the fact that you are having this baby now. “Holy fuck-“ Joel hisses and pulls the horse to a stop. “Tommy!” Your head jerks up at the name of his brother. Could he be here? Joel shifts off the mount, nearly falling down as he stares at a man on a scaffolding. “Tommy!”

Tommy’s eyes widen as he climbs down the scaffolding. “Joel!” He shouts back, both men rushing towards each other before they embrace, Joel pulling back to look at the brother he’s been searching for for so long. Your cry of pain drags them away from their reunion and Joel pats his brother on the back. “She’s having a baby. She needs medical attention. Now.” Joel demands and Tommy looks at Maria who nods.

Hands, so many hands, gently pull you off the horse. Although it’s Joel who practically drags you off your feet as they lead the way. Through some buildings and into a room that looks like a doctor’s office. “Jo-Joooooeeeeelllllllll!” You clench your teeth together as another pain rips through you.

“I’m here.” He promises, holding you tight as he gets escorted into a room with a bed and a set up like pre-outbreak days. He would be impressed if he wasn’t fucking terrified. “It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart.” He promises, helping the women take off your coat and the wet clothes. He turns his head when you’re naked. Not because he doesn’t want to see you but he hasn’t since the day he got you pregnant and you deserve your modesty. A hospital gown is put on you and you are helped onto the bed. 

“Let’s see what’s going on here.” An older woman, who was a midwife in the previous world, introduces herself and that’s when Joel crumbles. He can’t stand there. He’s failed you. He’s already failed this baby. He stumbles out of the room, blindly walking until Tommy finds him.

When Joel walks out the door, your entire body sags and you start to cry. Unable to call out for him, unwilling to force him to be here with you. Circumstance had made him put up with you, but now he’s fulfilled his part of your deal. He’s gotten you somewhere safe. “It’s okay, dear.” The kind midwife pats your leg and tries to soothe you. “I need to see how far you’ve progressed. How long have you been in labor?” Her question makes you focus and you shake your head. “I thought it was fake pains.” You gasp. “Two- two days ago I started cramping.”

Tommy pours Joel a glass of whiskey and he stares at his younger brother. Months. Fucking months he’s been traveling trying to find him. He’s put his life on the line. He’s got Ellie and you now. Your lives on the line and the baby. Shit, his baby. Meanwhile, Tommy has been shacked up in a nice community with running water and electricity without a single word to his older brother that he's alive. “Looks like you’ve got things good here.” He says after he takes a sip, needing to calm his nerves when your face keeps flashing in his mind. 

“Yeah. I, uh, got married. Maria. She’s my wife.” Tommy says and Joel congratulates him through gritted teeth. 

“I gotta go to Colorado. Take the kid. She, uh, she needs to go there.” He half explains and Tommy shakes his head. 

“I can’t do that. I’m going to be a dad.” He reveals and Joel almost chokes on his beer. 

“So am I.” He murmurs and Tommy’s eyes widen. 

“The pregnant - your baby?” He asks and Joel nods. “What the fuck are you doing here then? You should be with her.” Tommy growls and Joel shakes his head, his hand shaking as he sets the beer down. 

“I’ve already failed her. The baby. All of them. I can’t - what if - Sarah.” He gasps, feeling the anxiety threatening to overwhelm him again. Tommy comes around the counter to touch his brother’s shoulder. 

“You won’t fail them. You’ve kept them alive. Now go. You need to be there to see your child born.” Tommy insists, “come on, I’ll take you.”

You're nearly fully dilated. The midwife said it won’t be too much longer before you are pushing your baby out. She’s given you an IV, but she doesn’t have any drugs to give you. Your eyes squeeze shut as another pain consumes you, making you cry out Joel’s name since you felt safest with him. Even though he’s not here. He’s left you. He doesn’t want to be here when his child is born.

Joel rushes in when one of the women standing outside of your room tells him you’re about to push. “I’m sorry. I’m here. I’m here, baby.” Joel promises as he comes over to stand next to the bed, pushing your sweaty hair out of your face and offering you his hand to squeeze as tight as you need when you push. “I’m sorry I left. Fuck, I’m sorry baby.”

Even as you are grabbing onto him, you’re shaking your head. “No, no, no, you don’t want this.” You whine in pain. “You don’t- just goooooo.” You gasp out and clutch his hand even harder. “I’m- I know you don’t want- Sarah-“

Joel feels the guilt settle over him like fog, heavy and he can admit, self induced. “No. No. I - I won’t go. I’ve been terrified of becoming a father again. Of failing again. Of failing you. The baby. Just like a failed Sarah and - shit - baby, I can’t lose anyone else.” He chokes, squeezing your hand like it’s his lifeline.

You are panting by the time the pain passes, slumping back against the bed and letting out a small sob. “I won’t-“ you don’t finish the sentence because you know childbirth is dangerous. Anything could happen. “I love you.” You whimper before the next pain starts and the midwife tells you to start pushing. Unable to look at Joel to see his reaction as you grit your teeth and bear down.

He doesn’t respond, knowing it could’ve been the emotions of the moment and he’s never been a man to just blurt out how he feels without considering his words and the circumstances. Words like love are thrown around too much, even nowadays, and he doesn’t want you to say something and regret it. “That’s it, sweetheart. Doing so good. Just breathe.” He says, trying to coach you and reassure you like he did his wife when Sarah was born.

There isn’t time for you to focus on Joel’s non response to your confession. Focusing on your need to push and the orders the midwife is giving you while Joel steadies you is comforting. Closing your eyes when you have a moment to breathe before you are tending to push again.

His heart pounds in his chest, his eyes darting from your face to the midwife between your legs. “Doing good, baby.” Joel promises despite not having a clue how far along you are. Your nails dig into his palm and he swallows down the hiss of pain, knowing it’s nothing compared to the pain you’re going through right now.

“The head is almost out.” The midwife looks up. “The next push will be for the shoulders and I need you to push hard.” She orders, making you nod and regrip Joel’s hand. “Okay, push!” Your grunt turns into a scream as you bear down, feeling the blood rushing through your veins and your lungs start to scream for oxygen.

“You got this. You’re doing so good.” Joel promises, letting you squeeze the shit out of his hand. He is terrified for the baby to be born. Shit scared there’s something wrong with them. “You got this baby. Nearly there.” He murmurs, unable to stop himself from leaning in to kiss your forehead.

One more push and the pressure instantly goes away. A choked cry filling the room, getting louder as it squawks and you are looking down as the midwife comes up with your child in her arms. “Congratulations mama, it’s a boy.” She tells you, depositing the still slick child onto your chest.

Joel lets go of your hand, a choke escaping his lips as he stares at the baby now crying out in protest of being pushed into the world, and tears sting in his eyes. His hand raises to touch the baby but he stops, unsure of what you want and the midwife grabs some surgical scissors, asking if he wants to cut the cord. It feels surreal. Like it’s a dream he’s about to wake up from. His hand shakes as he cuts the cord and he stands by you, unsure of how you want him to proceed.

Looking down at your son, your hands shake as you hold him. Unable to believe this is real. “A- a boy.” You choke out, looking up to see Joel looking at you with longing in his eyes. He’s not hiding it right now. “Take him.” You order softly, moving to pull him off your chest. “Hold your son, Joel.”

Joel doesn’t hesitate, slowly reaching out to take the baby into his arms. He’s tiny and so perfect. Ten fingers and ten toes. His eyes like yours. His nose is like Joel’s. He’s perfect and Joel can’t stop the tears that suddenly stream down his cheeks. “Hey little man.” He murmurs, staring at the baby in awe. His son. “Hi Alex.” He whispers, leaning forward to press a kiss to his forehead.

You smile, exhausted and still cramping as the midwife continues to work on you, but you can’t take your eyes off the scene. The big, burly, gruff man is so fucking gentle as he holds his son. Starting to gently sway, rocking him as he holds the minute old child. “Alexander Joel Miller.” You venture softly, wondering how he would feel about the complete name.

Joel looks over at you, his eyes widening slightly as you name your child with a version of his own name. It’s perfect and he knows at that moment that there’s no use denying how he feels, at least to himself. “It’s perfect.” He murmurs, carrying the baby back over to you to place him in your arms, stroking his head as he settles against your chest to try and root at your breast. “Did you mean it?” He asks you softly as his eyes flick from the baby to you.

You keep your eyes on your son, not wanting to see the rejection in Joel’s. “I don’t expect anything from you.” You promise him quietly. “You didn’t ask for this, for me and Alex.” It’s crazy that you’ve fallen for him, but you have. His dedication to protecting you and the baby, Ellie, has made you fall in love with him. “Just- just don’t reject Alex, please. You don’t have to love me, or even be around me.”

Joel leans closer to you, “it’s hard to not love you when it’s already happened.” He murmurs, “I- I’m not good with words or - or emotions, but sweetheart, you gotta know that there’s nothing on this earth that I’ve ever felt like this before.” He confesses softly. It’s true. Even his ex wife didn’t make his heart pound like you do. “I’ve wanted you for months but I thought you didn’t want me after we were forced to- you know. I didn’t want to make things awkward between us when I had to protect you and Ellie and if you didn’t feel the same. I’m not good at this but for you, I want to try. I want you and our family.”

Your lip trembles and you close your eyes in relief that he feels the same way you do. “I don’t- I don’t want to trap you.” You explain. “I know that we were forced to have Alex, but I enjoyed it. I felt so guilty for enjoying that, for getting pregnant. But I don’t regret this little joy.” You look down at the way your son is still hungrily trying to suckle, grunting at your breast. “He’s a symbol of hope. That there is something to live for, fight for.”

Joel nods in agreement, “he’s our hope. You didn’t trap me. You were forced just as much as I was and I- shit - I feel so guilty thinking of that time together as much as I do.” He admits quietly, “I can’t regret that day when it brought me you and Alex. I love you, baby. I- I know I’m an asshole who can’t handle emotions most of the time so don’t expect me to say it all the time to you but I want you to know that’s how I feel.”

“I don’t care that you say it.” You shake your head, smiling at him when you look back up at the man who has saved you. “You show it. You show Ellie by letting her be herself and keeping her safe. You show me by protecting me and looking out for me and Alex.” You brush your hand over your son’s head, aware that he will still have to be cleaned up, but he’s only minutes old. “You will show your son you love him by teaching him how to survive this world, to protect those he loves.”

Joel nods, wanting to believe you and he tries despite his demons whispering in his ear about how he is going to fail. He swallows harshly as he leans in to kiss your forehead and he nudges his nose against yours, "can I kiss you?" He asks softly and you nod. He leans in closer to brush his lips against yours, soft and sweet.

You sigh into the kiss, loving how tender it is. Reaching up, you cup his cheek and caress it until the midwife slowly tries to take the baby to clean him up.

Joel pulls back, a slight blush on his cheeks when the midwife winks at him and he watches as she carries the baby over to clean him up and weigh him. “You did so good.” Joel murmurs, kissing your forehead, “you’re so fucking brave.”

“I didn’t have much of a choice.” You admit ruefully. “It was pretty much be brave or give birth in the middle of nowhere.” You chuckle. “I almost did that anyway.”

“Thank fuck you didnt.” Joel murmurs, reaching up to brush your sweaty hair back out of your face as the midwife wraps your son in a blanket. It’s surreal. Like yesteryear but it’s real life. It doesn’t feel real to Joel to be in a town with this capacity. He’s going to have to leave though to take Ellie on the rest of her journey. 

**** 

Ellie has already bid goodbye to you and Alex and now it’s Joel’s turn. The urge to simply stay where he is. To not go and finish his duty to Ellie is tempting but he is a man of his word and you’re safe here. “I, uh, I’m gonna come back.” He promises softly, reaching down to stroke the baby’s head as you cradle him.

“You better.” You hate that you can’t go with them, but it’s not feasible. You have a two day old child. The best thing you can do is stay right here, where he knows you will be safe. Tommy has already promised to look after you. Looking up, you bite your lip. “I love you, Joel.” You whisper softly. “Be safe.”

His eyes meet yours and he nods, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips, conveying the words without saying them out loud. You know how he feels. You’re safe here and that’s what matters to him. “Be good, baby.” He says as he straddles the horse and Ellie shuffles on behind him, clinging to his jacket. Ellie offers you a small wave as Joel nudges the horse to move and he doesn’t look back. He can’t look back at what he’s leaving behind.

**** 

It’s been nearly two months since Joel left. Him and Ellie. Every day you walk to the gates and ask if he’s been spotted, or if there’s been any word. There’s been nothing, but still you continue to hold out hope. Carrying Alex in a little sling around your body, you’ve made friends with the community and slowly turned the house they had let you stay in, into a home for you and your little family when you’re reunited. You have to have hope, you’ll go crazy with worry if you don’t.

Joel lies to Ellie about her rescue. It kills him to lie to her but he has to to protect her. “Come on, let's go home.” He says and the duo are quiet as they make their way back to Jackson, down the mountain and when he enters the gate, he is suddenly exhausted. It’s like the pressure and adrenaline are gone and he’s home. His heart thumps when he stumbles into the town and sees you standing there, his eyes widening as they meet yours.

“Joel?” Your eyes nearly bug out of your head when you see the man you have been thinking about for two months. “Joel!” Holding the baby against your chest as you rush towards him. He looks worn, tired and sad in a way you can’t describe, but he’s here. Ellie right behind him. “You’re back!”

Joel wraps his arms around you, the baby between you, and he doesn't hesitate to press his lips to yours. Relieved to be home and find you and Alex safe and sound. His body relaxes, knowing he doesn't have to fight to survive right now at this moment.

You’re surprised by his kiss, figuring that he wouldn’t be the type for public displays. You don’t mind it though, kissing him back fiercely before you break away and look over his shoulder at Ellie. “Good to see both of you.”

He reluctantly steps back so you can hug Ellie. Tommy comes over to slap his back, knowing his brother well enough to know he just needs rest now. "Come on, let's get you all home." He says, walking with you all to get you back to the house you have made a home in their absence.

“I’ve gotten most of the house clean.” You tell them as you walk towards the house. “Ellie….I didn’t know if you were coming back, but I hoped you would. There’s clothes in the closet, clean. And I put some of the books closer to your age on the shelves.”

Ellie smiles at you, half hearted as she tries to reconcile what happened to her but she needs a shower and an actual bed. Joel is quiet as you walk to the house and all he wants is to hold his son, to have a moment where nothing else exists for him except his son. When he enters the house, his shoulders relax properly, sensing this is a home. You’ve made it so comfortable and he loves it, instantly at ease. “I’m gonna go shower.” Ellie says and you nod, “go shower. I’ll make some food.” You say as you work on untying Alex from your body and Ellie heads upstairs to leave you and Joel to your moment.

“I know you have to be tired, but do you want to hold him?” You ask quietly. If he doesn’t, you’ll put Alex in his little swing that hangs in the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room. Joel nods and you transfer the baby to him with a soft coo to Alex who is about to laugh or cry.

Joel looks down at the baby. He’s already changed so much in the two months he’s been gone and he hates how much he’s already missed. “Hey buddy. It’s daddy. Sorry I haven’t been around but I’m back.” He promises, leaning in to kiss his son’s forehead.

You can’t help but watch the interaction for a moment, nearly about to cry from hoping and praying it would happen one day. Alex stares up at his father curiously and you smile at the scene, wishing you had a camera. The shower upstairs turns on and you remember that you need to make them something to eat. They have to be starving.

Joel cradles his son, just staring at him, and he realizes that his prior death wish, his blasé attitude to living or dying is over. He has a purpose now. Ellie and Alex. His kids are his purpose in life and he will do whatever it takes to keep them safe.

In the kitchen, you start pulling out pans to cook. The eggs you had received this morning will be perfect and there’s still a little bit of the smoked pork. You wonder how long it’s been since Joel has eaten an omelet, you open the refrigerator to pull out the fresh mozzarella you had helped make just the other day.

Joel leans down to kiss Alex’s forehead. “You been a good boy for your mama?” He asks, feeling terrible for having left you alone for so long to look after a newborn. He remembers when Sarah was this age. He was exhausted. Her mother couldn’t bond so it was all on him to make sure the baby was fed, clean, and loved. “Your mama is incredible. She grew you while trekking across the country. In the cold weather. With no shelter. She’s amazing and we are so lucky to have her.”

You hear everything that he says, but you don’t comment on it. Aware that even if you protest, he won’t change his mind. Instead, you set out the ingredients for your meals and start whipping everything together. Alex will want to eat soon, so you want to get this done before he is demanding his own meal.

Ellie comes downstairs about ten minutes later to find Joel cradling the baby. “Can I hold him?” She asks and Joel nods, gently transferring the baby into her arms and she grins, “he’s got your nose.” She says to Joel who snorts and nods, “poor bastard.” Ellie coos, gently rocking the baby as Joel walks into the kitchen to see how things are going with the food. “You need any help?”

“No, I’m good.” You promise, looking over at him and smiling. “If you want to take a shower, the one in the master bedroom feels great.”

"I'll wait until after we eat. Ellie is desperate for food...and so am I." He confesses, stepping closer to gently hold your waist. "I thought of you every damn second I was gone."

“We walked every day to check to see if they had heard anything about you.” You murmur. “We missed you. I missed you.”

He rests his forehead on your shoulder, breathing you in, reassuring himself that you’re safe. “Missed you too.” He murmurs, “the food smells good.”

“I know you have to be hungry.” You murmur. “Smoked pork and mozzarella omelets.” You announce. “We’ve started making cheeses and hoping to get the old commercial freezer system working so we can save it.”

“That’s great.” Joel murmurs as you cook and his fingers flex on your waist until he hears Alex crying. “I’ll get him.” He says, kissing your shoulder before he heads back into the living room. 

“I didn’t do anything. He just started crying and I-” Ellie looks panicked but Joel nods and holds his hands out to gently take the baby. 

“It’s okay, baby boy.” He murmurs, rocking the baby and he can tell he’s hungry. “Sweetheart, I think he’s hungry. Let me finish cooking and you take care of our boy.”

“Okay.” You are hesitant to stop cooking, because you want to make the meal for Joel and Ellie, but you take the baby from his father. “Hey, sweet boy, mama’s here. Are you hungry? Is that your problem?” You have gotten used to feeding him and pull your shirt down to pull your breast out. Luckily there was a seamstress in town who could convert any bra into a nursing bra. Alex quiets down the second he senses your nipple and grunts as he latches on and starts to drink.

Joel takes over at the stove but his eyes are fixed on you breastfeeding the baby. He has missed you, thought of you in his every step to get home to Jackson. You’re just as gorgeous as when he left and seeing you with the baby has his heart thumping in his chest. He turns back towards the stove, making sure the food doesn’t burn.

There’s something about Joel and Ellie being here that makes the house seem like home. The atmosphere is even cozier than when it was just you and Alex. The baby gulps down the milk greedily and you watch as Joel finishes the omelets. “The doctors said that he’s healthy. I’m healthy.” You add.

Joel nods, “that’s good.” He watches Ellie as she sits down and asks you if it hurts to have him sucking like that and you chuckle softly and shrug, “sometimes.” 

Ellie wrinkles her nose, “yeah I don’t wanna do that.” She says with conviction, “no kids for me.” 

You nod, “good choice, kid.” Joel shakes his head with a snort and he plates up the food. 

“Dinner’s ready, kid.” Joel says as he places the plates on the kitchen table. “Come eat.” He says despite his own stomach grumbling.

“You two eat.” You tell Joel when he tries to split the food between the three of you. “I’m not hungry right now. I’ve eaten just a little bit ago.” You had eaten already and you want them to enjoy themselves.

Joel doesn’t argue, starving after barely finding anything to eat in the last thirty miles of walking back here. Ellie digs in, no manners as always but he doesn’t reprimand her, knowing that she’s starving too. He groans softly when he digs in, the food hitting his tongue like ambrosia.

You enjoy the way the two of them are eating heartily. “There’s plenty of eggs being produced, so don’t worry about eating all of them.” You laugh quietly. “I’m about egged out myself, but it’s good protein.”

Joel hums around his mouthful, trying to not shove it in but it’s hard when he’s so fucking hungry. “Is there anything else to eat?” Ellie asks, still hungry and she knows she has to mind her manners but fuck, she’s starving.

“There is.” You nod and point towards the refrigerator. “I have some leftovers in there and the microwave actually works now that we’ve got the hydro power working.”

Joel can't remember the last time he used a microwave. Maybe the day Sarah died. He swallows the bite of food and takes a sip of water. "I can take Alex." He offers, wanting to hold his son again now that he is asleep against your chest.

“Okay.” You know that he’s missed time with Alex. He deserves to bond with his son. Handing him off to Joel, you go to the fridge to pull out some more food for Ellie. The light doesn’t work on the inside anymore, but it’s cold.

Joel cradles the sleeping baby, staring at him and memorizing his tiny features. “He’s so beautiful.” Joel murmurs, unable to tear his eyes away from the baby as you prepare some more food.

Ellie is wide eyed at the microwave, thinking it might be the coolest thing she’s ever seen and you glance over at Joel and Alex. “He is.” You agree. “And he’s so sweet. Such a good baby. Rarely cries until he needs something.”

“Gets that from you.” Joel chuckles, “resilience and being easy going.” He says knowing how calm and composed you were being pregnant and trekking across the country. “Holy shit that’s amazing.” Ellie gasps as she looks down at the hot food and back to the microwave.

You laugh and nudge her shoulder. “Wonders of the past.” You tease her. “There were whole bunches of kids who couldn’t cook except for a microwave.”

Joel snorts, “pizza rolls were my go to.” He says and leans down to press a soft kiss to Alex’s head, breathing in his scent. You serve the food that Ellie devours and soon Joel stands up with the sleeping baby. “Can you take him, sweetheart? I want to have a shower.” He says, knowing he stinks but he wanted this time with his family first.

“Of course.” You had anticipated that he wanted to shower. After that, he probably wants to sleep for at least a week. You wonder when the last time he actually slept was. “The water should be hot and I’ll grab those clothes that I think will fit you.”

Joel nods, leaning in to kiss your forehead as he makes his way to the bathroom. He groans when he steps under the hot water, allowing himself to relax for the first time in a long time. He watches the blood and dirt swirl down the drain. The memories of what he did to save Ellie go with the water, letting himself compartmentalize like he always has to avoid the guilt that comes with each person he kills. It was to protect Ellie, to save her life. That’s what he tells himself as he lathers up, “to get back to my family.” He murmurs, unable to regret the actions that brought him home to you and his son with the girl he’s come to love as a daughter.

Downstairs, you clean up the kitchen, Alex in his bouncy chair while Ellie catches you up on everything that happened. Your eyes widen when she tells you that Joel had been stabbed with a baseball bat and almost died, biting your lip to keep from crying the tears that come so easily now. You almost lost him and you didn’t even know. Her face takes on a haunted look, one you can easily interpret and you pat her shoulder gently, telling her that she doesn’t have to talk about it.

Joel rests his forehead on the tile as the water runs over his back. The images of the close calls flashing in his mind and he eventually drags himself out when the water runs cold. He wraps the towel around his waist and he grabs the razor you left on the side for him to cut down the beard that has grown out during his absence.

Once he’s bounced his little heart out, Alex starts to fall asleep in the little chair. It’s reclined position perfect for naps and you had already sent Ellie up to her room to check out the books or take her own nap if she wanted. Just anxiously waiting for Joel so you can talk about what the future might hold for you. You hadn’t stopped loving him, that’s for sure, but he might have realized that he didn’t want a life with you.

Joel comes out of the bathroom to find you setting clothes down on the bed for him, the towel wrapped around his waist and skin still damp from his shower. “Everything okay baby?” He asks as he walks over to you, his hand finding your shoulder.

“Everything’s good.” Your eyes immediately dropping to his side and they widen dramatically. “Oh my god.” You whisper, reaching out and touching the scarred skin. “Ellie told me.”

He sighs softly, sitting down on the edge of the bed, and he stares across the room at the faded carpet. “I thought I was gonna die.” He confesses, “I thought I was gonna die and leave you behind, leave Alex behind. I thought I was going to fail Ellie. She was taken and they nearly-” He chokes, unable to finish the sentence.

“They didn’t. She is-“ you shake your head. “She’s here, and you are here.” You can’t help but move closer, reaching out and caressing his wet hair. “You’re both safe now.”

Joel swallows harshly, “I couldn’t lose her. They - I haven’t told her.” His voice lowers, “the Fireflies…the doctor…they were gonna take her fucking brain. She would’ve died and I couldn’t let that happen so I took her and killed - I killed people trying to save her life. I couldn’t let her die.” He whispers, closing his eyes.

“Oh my god.” Your eyes widen in horror and you can’t imagine Joel letting that happen to Ellie. He cares about her so much, he loves her, protects her like she is his own flesh and blood. “You- you did the right thing.” You manage to choke out. “They were going to- to kill her?” Your voice drops to a whisper. “No, fuck no, assholes. They deserved what they got.” You are furious and you would have killed them too when you found out. You don’t blame Joel at all.

He focuses on your hand in his hair as he tries to control his breathing. “She doesn’t know. I- I think she would’ve wanted to die. To give the world a chance to cure the virus but I couldn’t let her. I couldn’t lose her.” He admits, closing his eyes as the pain surges inside of him.

“She should never know.” You immediately agree. “No, she- she wouldn’t understand.” You do. You would die for your son, you would kill for him. Ellie falls into that same category for both you and Joel. “She’s here now. Safe. No one is going to take her away.”

Joel nods, reaching for your hand to squeeze it. “Thank you. For everything. I never - I thought I would be killed at some point and I didn’t care. It’s why I was vicious. I didn’t care if I died but I do now. I want to be here for you and the kids. I love you. I love you.” He rasps, opening his eyes to look at you.

His vow warms you through. Squeezing his hand back, you smile. “I love you too.” You promise softly. “I was so worried about you two, even as busy as I was with Alex. We walked to the gates every day.”

He leans in to nudge his nose against yours, “I missed you both every day. Kept me going. Even when I was on my deathbed.” He says as he brushes his lips against yours, gives you a chance to pull back but he wants you, wants to reassure himself that he’s home.

“I’m glad it wasn’t your death bed.” You whisper against his mouth and press closer to him. “You’re home, Joel.”

He reaches for your waist, dragging you closer to press his lips a little harder against yours, his stomach twisting with a sudden need for you. He needs to feel you, to know that he’s home. He’s back with his family. His tongue is about to slide into your mouth until he pulls back. “Where’s Alex?” He asks, wanting to make sure the baby is okay.

“He’s asleep.” You explain softly. The bassinet is in the nursery, making sure that he wouldn’t be disturbed if he wants to sleep. “The baby’s room is right across the hall.”

He nods, reassured that you can hear the baby if he wakes up, and he presses his lips against yours again, his tongue immediately sliding into your mouth with a groan. His fingers digging into your waist as he slides his tongue against yours, his cock twitching under his towel.

You groan into his mouth, desperate to be close to him. To know that this emotion is real, that his promise that he loves you is real. Joel has never touched you, just you touching him when you made Alex, so you want to feel his hands on you.

He shifts to lay you down on the bed, pleased for be touching you like this in an actual bed. “Baby, can i- I want to taste you.” He murmurs, kissing along your jaw as he shifts to straddle you as you shift up the bed to settle against the pillows as he follows your body.

“You can- anything you want.” Joel wants you. It makes your entire body vibrate in pleasure and you bite your lip. Your body has changed since giving birth, he’s seen all of you but you don’t know how he will like the changes.

Joel kisses along your neck, breathing you in and he reaches for the hem of your shirt, dragging it over your head. Your nursing bra is exposed and he wastes no time reaching behind you to unclip it and drag it off of your body. “Jesus.” He hisses when he sees your tits, swollen with milk for his child, and he feels a little feral. “Fuck. Are they sensitive?” He asks before he touches them.

“Not bad.” You murmur, running your fingers through his hair. “They have been toughened up by your son.” You tease. “You can touch them.”

He smiles for a second before he gently cups your breast, lifting it up so he can lean down and take your nipple into his mouth. A squirt of milk enters his mouth and he doesn’t care, it’s natural and your moan of pleasure has his cock twitching.

It’s completely differing having Joel suck on your breasts. The feeling of it making your cunt clench. “Oh god.” You whimper quietly. “The midwife- she- I’m on birth control.” You explain. You don’t know how they had done it, but they had means of birth control here and the old doctor had taught the midwife.

He groans into your flesh at that news, glad that he won’t get you pregnant again so soon after you’ve had Alex. “Are you cleared for sex?” He asks, “are you comfortable? If not, we can - I am happy to just hold you.” He says as he pulls off of your breast to look at you.

“Don’t you dare stop now.” You pant as you look down at him. “I want you. I wanted you the entire time I was carrying Alex.”

He groans, "thank God. Really wanna touch you again. Wanted to when you were pregnant but I didn't think you wanted me like that." He admits and leans down to take your nipple back into his mouth. His hands slide down to your leggings, pushing his hand in to find your wet cunt and he groans around your nipple as he finds your clit.

You are in heaven, loving the attention. His fingers are thick and calloused on your clit, making you moan his name out softly. You don’t want Ellie to hear and give you shit later, so you bite your lip.

His fingers rub your clit, groaning your name as he discovers how wet you are, and his fingers slide lower to push inside of you. He is gentle, wanting to make sure you’re comfortable.

You whine his name again, loving how tender he is being. It’s as if he wants to make sure this time, only the second time you’ve slept together, is special.

He groans as your walls flutter around his digits and he desperately wants to make sure this time is slow. You’re in control now. No one is holding a gun to your head and he needs you to be all in and enjoy this. Especially with the love that has grown between you. “Baby, need to taste you.” He murmurs as he reluctantly withdraws his fingers from inside of you and he hooks them in your leggings to drag them down your body along with your panties. Once both items are tossed on the floor, he gently spreads your thighs and he leans in to nudge his nose against your thigh, kissing along the sensitive flesh as he breathes you in.

You nearly pass the fuck out. Overwhelmed by just his breath near your cunt. You’ve not had someone go down on you since before the outbreak. “You don’t have to.” You pant, but Joel just huffs lightly against your folds. “I want to.” He insists before he takes a teasing lick of your cunt to taste you.

His groan reverberates through your body as his tongue pushes deep inside of your pussy, groaning your name as he pushes your thighs back to get access to more of you. He’s hungry for you after the first taste and the sound of your moan has him grinding into the mattress. “Fuck. You taste good.” He murmurs before he resumes flicking his tongue over your clit until he’s sucking it between his lips.

Your head tilts back into the pillow, eyes closed as you just feel the way that Joel is taking you apart. Swipe after swipe of his clever tongue until he pulls your clit into his mouth to make you gasp. "Oh fuck." You moan, unable to stop the way your hips roll down. "It's so- fuck, I don't ever remember it being this good. Fuck, Joel."

His fingers dig into your hips and he groans your name into your wet flesh, his hand shifting slowly to circle your entrance. His digits caressing your folds to give you a second in case you don’t want his fingers and just want his tongue but when you moan out “please” he eagerly pushes two inside of you.

You feel full. Not nearly as full as you remember his cock inside you, but better than your fingers. “Joel, baby, fuck, I love your hands.” You whine. “So fucking big. Imagined them on me so many times.”

He loves hearing that you’ve imagined him because he’s imagined you too. So many times. “Baby. Shit.” He hisses as he curls his fingers and resumes sucking on your clit. He wants to hear you cum. He desperately needs it.

His attention being focused on you is nearly too much. Whining as he continues to pull you apart, your fingers twist into the bedsheets and you moan wantonly.

Your moans echo sweetly in his ears and he pumps his fingers a little faster. “That’s it, baby.” He murmurs against your wet flesh before he’s lapping at your clit again. The sounds so sweet and he needs you to cum for me.

It doesn’t take too long before he throws you over the edge. Making you cry out in pleasure as your vision goes white and your entire body lights up as heat floods it.

He groans at the flood of your cum on his fingers, soaking them as you clamp down and he’s eager to push them into his mouth but he also needs to work you through your orgasm. He gently laps at your clit, working you through it before he withdraws his fingers, pushing them into his mouth as you pant against the sheets.

“Joel.” You whimper his name and nearly melt into the bed. “Holy shit, holy shit, you- that was amazing.” You pant out with a giggle. You had expected Joel to want a blow job, not to make you cum. “I- I want you inside me.” You confess, feeling slightly greedy after that.

He nods, needing that too and his wet fingers grip the sheets as he climbs up your body. Your fingers grab his shoulders to caress his skin. His cock is hard and throbbing against your inner thigh as you eagerly spread your legs wider for him. His eyes meet yours, wanting to make sure you want this and when your hungry eyes focus on him, he has his answer. He reaches between you to grip his cock, positioning himself at your entrance and he slowly pushes into you, groaning at the wet heat that envelops his cock. “Fuck.” He gasps, turning his head to press his lips against yours as he slowly pushes into you.

It’s even better than the first time. Both of you want this. Both of you need this. You kiss him back, moaning into his mouth while you wrap your arms around him. Pulling him closer until he is firmly embedded, buried to the hilt in your warmth.

He slides his tongue against yours, taking a moment to kiss you while he’s buried inside of you, not moving. Savoring this moment, something he wasn’t sure he’d get to have since he nearly died several times trying to return to you. He takes a moment until it’s too much and he has to move. His hips move back slightly until he pushes into you again, slow and unhurried.

It’s slow, methodical. Love making in every sense of the word. Every rolls of his hips is softened by your own arch, meeting him as your legs tighten around the back of his thighs. He lets his weight down onto you slowly when he pushes his arms underneath your body and you love the feel of him. Surrounding you and completely overriding all your senses.

You feel like home. That’s the only way Joel can describe this feeling. He feels like he’s back where he belongs and his heart pounds in his chest. His hips press against yours as he rocks into you, deep and slow.

Your lips press together and your tongues tangle while he slowly fucks you. Unless Alex wakes up or Jackson is attacked, there’s nothing stopping you from taking all the time in the world. Your fingers drift up and down the planes of his back, feeling the muscles moving.

He kisses along your jaw, loving the way you clench around him when he adjusts his hips. He’s trying to find that spot that makes you moan but he’s in no rush. Joel feels safe and secure for the first time in years and he desperately wants to cling to that feeling. His hips pushing deep again and when you cry out against his cheek, he grins in victory and focuses on that same angle.

When he’s determined, Joel doesn’t stop. When he finds that spot, he presses against it again and again, groaning at the way you squeeze him in response. You could sob from how good it feels, but you don’t want to make him think for a second you regret this.

Every rock of his hips has him hinting that spot and he grabs your breast, squeezing it and he arches so he can bend down to take your nipple into his mouth, gently biting down. “You close?” He asks, needing to know in case you need something else to send you over the edge.

"Fuck yesssss." you hiss, pulling him back down so he can suck on your tit again. Even if you weren't, you wouldn't mind. feeling too amazing for words.

He hums around your nipple, pleased that you’re close as he keeps his thrusts the same angle and speed, feeling you tense beneath him and he knows you’re close. “That’s it baby. That’s it. Cum for me.” He murmurs into your skin.

Your nails dig into his back, but you don't think that he minds. Not the way his thrusts have started becoming harsher. Short and deep, like he's trying to stop himself from cumming before you do. One more thrust and you are crying out wordlessly, unable to even articulate a praise as you fall apart around him.

He loves it. Addicted to this already even after having you when you got pregnant with Alex. He works you through it, rocking his hips and he’s so close. It’s been so long since he was inside of you - of any woman - and it doesn’t take long. A half dozen more thrusts and he’s pushing deep, filling you up with his hot seed after you told him earlier it was safe. His lips pressing against your neck as he pants.

“So good, baby.” You whimper quietly, closing your eyes as you feel him relax against you. His cock is still throbbing inside you and it’s probably the best feeling in the world. “I love you.”

“I love you too baby.” He murmurs, shifting to nudge his nose against yours. He’s so grateful he made it home to you and Alex with Ellie still alive and well. He kisses you softly while he softens inside of you, unwilling to move. He doesn’t want to move from this house, this town. He’s found peace finally and he will fight tooth and nail to keep it. To keep his family safe, he’d do anything. For now, Joel wants to enjoy his serenity and he kisses you with a smile, excited for his future in Jackson. It’s secure and safe…what could possibly go wrong?

[jji-lee]

as he sat on your pink fluffy couch, haechan wondered how the hell he got himself in this situation. he fidgeted in his seat, silence eating him alive. he looked up quickly, catching a glimpse of you before immediately ducking his head back down.

if he had known he'd been called over to get stared down by five very attractive individuals, he probably would've ignored the job offer and forced himself to live with the burden of poverty. you five had been looking over at him and whispering to one another for the past ten minutes, leaving him sat there, tense and sweaty.

.

he had been greeted at the door by the short pretty boy, huang renjun, kinda mean but nice enough to appear welcoming. and then he was guided into your bedroom by a taller bulkier male, lee jeno, kind smile but kinda intimidating. as he waited for "the boss" to be out of the bathroom (that's what everyone had been calling you), he was questioned by another pretty boy, na jaemin. he asked him about photography which helped ease his nerves.

"donghyuck, you're like a camera god, don't look so nervous, there's no one better for this job than you!"

he wish he knew what the job actually was, but he'd just have to wait for "the boss" to be ready. he also wishes that you'd hurry up because during the wait, a female had appeared. she was dressed in all black, outfit simple yet very fashionable, aeri uchinaga or giselle which she preferred to be called. hyuck avoided eye contact with her as best as he could, only mumbling a little hi, eyes focused on the super interesting piece of lint on his pants.

.

when you had finally come in hyuck made the mistake of looking up, swallowing thick as he stared you down. you were gorgeous wow, well you were all gorgeous, but you, you were something out of his wet dreams. your cute little outfit snug tight against your body, wait was that appropriate for a job interview?

"taaa-daaa!"

you spun around on your heels, hands on your hips as you posed for everyone to see. hyuck's mouth went dry as he watched you.

"stop putting on a show you're scaring the poor kid, hurry up so we can do the interview."

jaemin rushed you onto the bed facing hyuck. you leaned forward from your seat reaching your hand out to greet haechan.

"hey hyuck-"

he blushed at the nickname.

"nice to meet you, i'm y/n, the one actually hiring you."

he shook your hand quickly, pulling his own back like he had just been burned.

"nice to meet you too, y/n."

he avoided eye contact eyes drifting towards your cleavage as you bent in front of him. haechan shut his eyes bringing his hands onto his lap to hide his arousal, are you a fucking teenager get a grip! you giggled sitting back down on the bed as your other four friends joined you, and that's how it began.

.

haechan feels like he's been sitting there for hours listening to you all whisper, occasional pushes and shoves being exchanged between the five of you. renjun was the first to speak, clearing his throat before starting,

"i'm gonna be blunt with you lee donghyuck. y/n is a cam girl and we want you to record her streams for her-"

"and occasionally take her sexy twitter posts!"

"yes... like giselle said, and take pictures of her. she's going to be nude almost all of the time, or as close to naked as she can get. can you handle that?"

hyuck thinks maybe god hates him, or maybe he really loves him because what the actual hell is going on. he stared at the five of you eyes wide, processing what renjun had just said.

"look now you've scared him!"

jaemin slapped renjun's thigh, an apologetic smile on his face.

"i wish i could make this better for you donghyuck, but i don't think there's any way to sugar coat this."

haechan bit his lip, looking towards you.

.

you knew from the moment you had walked in that donghyuck had zero experience with women. the way he avoided eye contact and the way he stole glances at your breasts and bare legs. so the shock on his face at the job description was more than expected, what you didn't expect to feel so bad for him. he looked like a deer caught in headlights, ready to run away at the slightest threat.

"everyone out."

your friends looked at you confused as you pointed to the door.

"you heard me everyone out. now- no not you hyuck sit down."

you watched as he nervously sat back down, ready to leave at your command. your friends exchanged glances as they exited the room, unsure of what you were planning on doing.

.

haechan could feel the heat rise in his body as you shut the door behind them. why on earth did you want to be alone with him?

he tried to calm his breathing as he watched you kneel in front of him, placing your hands on his thighs, dick twitching at the touch, for the love of god lee donghyuck relax.

"hey, hyuck look at me, please?"

he sighed before raising his gaze to meet your eyes, a gentle smile on your lips.

"i know this sounds crazy, and i know i should have told you what the job was before you came."

he nodded in agreement, a giggle leaving you lips,

"so, lee donghyuck, right now i am y/n y/l/n the college student, but when i do my job i am craftykitty the camgirl."

wait- you were who? craftykitty? the camgirl that kept him up for countless nights, moaning into his pillows so his roommates wouldn't hear him? the camgirl that he spends hundreds of dollars on? his dream camgirl that is kneeled in front of his hands on his thighs? he stared at you with wide eyes, mouth slightly agape.

"i've seen your work and i know you're capable of doing the job right hyuck, but it's up to you okay? i've been doing this cam stuff for a while but this is my first time actually telling someone who i am, so please if you don't want the job can you at least keep my identity a secret?"

.

you let out a nervous laugh, forgetting that donghyuck hadn't signed the NDA yet. what are you even rambling about telling a complete stranger your identity and you don't even know if he'll take the job-

"i'll do it."

now it was your turn to looked shocked. his cheeks were flushed and his nervousness was clear in the way he picked at the fur on your couch.

"i'll do it, just, i just need some time to adjust, i want my focus to be 100% through the lens, i'll be okay as long as i look at you through the camera."

you pushed yourself off the floor, a wide smile on your lips,

"perfect! we can do whatever you want hyuck! you can have that damn camera stuck to your eyes if you want!"

you sprinted towards the door hitting it harshly, yelps coming from the other side of it.

"i know you guys were listening! he said he'll do it! get the paperwork!"

you turned back to him quickly,

"how about we do some practice shots so you can get warmed up, hm?"

truthfully haechan wanted to say no, he wanted nothing more than to run back to his dorm and shove his hand down his pants, your face still clear in his mind. but as he looked up at your bright smile he fears that he might agree to anything you say, all you had to do was ask.

⋆₊˚⊹.𖥔 zoom, click, panic ! -> 3. chat spam mommy

previous -> masterlist -> next

notes: literally rewrote this like 10 times i am struggling guys 😭 i wrote like 3 midterm essays today i don't have brain power. but for nerd hyuck i will make an exception, hope you guys are liking it!

taglist : @sunghoonsgfreal , @hizhu , @axo-l0tl , @strawberrysavi , @hyuckiebb-blog , @hyucktion , @4yunogf , @jakesbubu , @gacktsa , @iheartjayke , @annoyednblax , @luvvhaechan , @dudekiss3r , @nanaxwi , @yesohhsehun , @prettybluei , @soobinbunnie5 , @hyucksunset , @peterm4rker , @byeonwooseokabs , @kodasity , @hyuckmoon , @catdonut657 , @lionzyon , @luvandletter , @defzcl , @nneteyamss , @222brainrot , @1lovejinki , @zzurao , @catpjimin , @multifandomania , @docilismo , @cyjzzl , @livingdoll-hara , @this-is-lowkey-a-hyuck-fanpage , @ohwowzersthatscool , @babyjenono , @wonswondrland , @jenoleeaesthetic , @bananinhazz , @hyuckna25 , @doejaejung , @angeliqueiguess , @mymartiniblue , @aerivrs , @heyitsbreeeeee , @choizzn , @jae-n0 , @hyuckshinee

[artyandink]

You should definitely do an imagine of Jensen's characters reacting to stretch marks!! I need that 😜😔

nature’s beauty

SUMMARY: You have stretch marks. How would the boys react to that?

TW: Body image, issues with stretch marks— but they’re normal girlies, I have them too, Jensen’s characters being normal about it cause yeah, mild angst, mild smut, mentions of sex, making out, spice

SONG INSPO: Golden Hour by JVKE, Scars to Your Beautiful by Alessia Cara

DEAN WINCHESTER

Dean kissed down your body, undoing your jeans and pushing them down. He had you on your back in his bed, his breaths coming in harsh pants as he marked your skin like the possessive son of a bitch he was, taking your panties with them. “Fuck, baby, you’re gorgeous.”

Dean was the type of guy to hit on every girl he saw, but that’s cause he found them beautiful. Shape or size. Then he met you, and he kept coming back for more and eventually made you his girlfriend after being a charming son of a bitch instead. He normally kissed every dip and curve he found, but today, you pressed your thighs together.

Not in a sexy way. You’d closed your legs. That was a problem— were you ok? You weren’t hurt, right? Or maybe you were on your period, but he didn’t see a pad on your panties and your cycle would be coming way too early— better to ask you.

“You ok, sweetheart?” Dean asked you, lifting his head up and sitting back on his heels, and you were turned on by the sight of his freckled, muscled upper body but also scared he’d get turned off by seeing the stretch marks that had appeared on your stomach and upper thighs. Well, not so much appeared, but you figured you lost some weight.

You nodded, trying to not look at the very obvious stretch marks and play your crippling insecurity off at the same time. “Yeah, I’m good.”

But Dean’s eyes followed yours, and they landed on the stretch marks, and his thumbs immediately moved to trace them. “Darlin’, you can’t seriously think I’m gonna mind these.” Then he saw the embarrassed look on your face, and he kissed down your stretch marks, which surprised you. “God, I love ‘em. It’s nature, baby. Shows you’re a damn beautiful woman with damn beautiful normal things. And guess what?”

He climbed back up until your face was level with his, and he gave you a kiss that blew your mind, took your breath away. “You’ve earned yourself a first class, five star worshipping.”

Your eyes widened, knowing what that meant. “Wait, Dean—”

Your legs went over his shoulders, a wicked grin on his face. “Can’t have my gorgeous girl feelin’ insecure, hm? So you’re gonna feel good. All. Night. Long.”

BEN

You’d just come off the effects of giving birth, and man, when Ben realised that one, you had his kid and two, you were ready to get fucked into oblivion again, he was ecstatic. You’d had a baby girl, Austin, named after the city (“Austin? What the fuck kinda name is— wait, that’s actually perfect.”) and she quickly became a daddy’s girl, as Ben promised you she would as soon as he held the baby in his gigantic hands.

But then there came the problem of stretch marks.

Your belly had, in your words, ‘deflated’, but now you were left with the horror of stretch marks, which kind of made you think. What would Ben say? He loved his women ripe and pretty and perfect, what would he say if he saw those marks on your skin?

You found out when you were standing shirtless in your bedroom, inspecting the marks when Ben stepped in, and his libido fired up the moment he saw you standing with only your bra on. That’d be torn off in a few moments, he was sure.

“Hello, sexy mama.” He grinned wolfishly, stepping behind you, dropping his lips to your neck as his hands rubbed over the stomach that held his kid. “Don’t know about you, but I’m lookin’ to pamper my gorgeous wife and the mother of my kid. Gonna make you come so many times, I swear to God.”

But when you stopped his hand from going down the front of your pants, he raised his eyebrows. Not the time? Or… did someone hurt you?

“Sweetcheeks, did something happen?” He asked, his brow now furrowing. Ben was an impatient man. “I swear, baby girl, you tell the name of the motherfucker who hurt you and I’ll-”

“You don’t see them?” You asked in confusion, and his eyes travelled around the room and then back to you in mirrored emotion. See what? What the fuck was he supposed to see?

Ben chuckled, cupping your cheek. “Did you get into my weed? Are you high, gorgeous?”

“No, I’m not high.” You smiled despite yourself, and gestured down to your stomach, rubbing over the marks. “These. You don’t… see them? You don’t care?”

Ben scoffed, his hand resting over yours to stop them from moving. “Why the fuck should I care when this is proof that you carried our kid? Shit, darlin’, you did that for nine months. If anything, that’s a mark of a damn strong woman, and that? It turns me on. Gets me going.” A kiss to your neck. “Gets me rock hard.” Another kiss, pressing himself fully against your back so you could feel it. “Ain’t no life in which you won’t turn me on, babydoll.”

It brought a smile to your face.

“Now, you’re gonna sit pretty, and I’m gonna fuck this crap out of that gorgeous little head’a yours.”

Shit.

BEAU ARLEN

“H-Hey, Beau, c’mon, that tickles!” You were lying on your back on the bed, your shirt pushed up while Beau kissed over your stretch marks, beard tickling your skin while his hands held your hips in place.

But the Texan cowboy looked up with a shit-eating grin, pressing another kiss to another mark. “You’re the one who felt insecure about this, darlin’. I’ve gotta give it some good old Texan lovin’, so you brought this on yourself.”

He continued kissing over them, fingers tracing them while you couldn’t help but giggle and squirm, but also feel reassured. “Come on, handsome, I get the point.”

Beau still gave you an indignant look paired with a smirk— the stubborn bastard. “No can do, gorgeous. Can’t tear myself away from these. It’s like they’re magnetic.” He continued pressing kisses to them, chuckling under his breath.

His hands kneaded your hips, then rubbed comfortingly up and down your sides, humming at every press of his lips to your stretch marks as if he belonged there.

Beau kissed up your body, then nuzzled his nose against yours before pressing a slow kiss to your lips, covering your hand that came up to cup his cheek, your giggles dissolving into an identical hum. His lips were soft, and they felt like home. He was your home.

When he pulled back, Beau took your hand in his and pressed kisses to your knuckles this time, then every finger.

“I love every inch’a you, sugar.” He rumbled with a loving smile, brushing your hair out of your face. “Don’t you ever forget that, y’hear me?”

CJ BRAXTON

You and CJ were cuddling on the pull-out couch in your co-ed, your head tucked into the crook of his neck while his arms were around you like a koala. His hand rubbed up and down your side over your shirt, fingers lightly brushing your skin and tracing patterns.

It was no secret to anyone that CJ adored you so much it could give him a cavity with how sweet he was on you. He kept on looking down at you, a small smile on his face while he thought of how much of a lucky bastard he was.

His hand slipped under your shirt, not to initiate anything like sex but to just feel you closer, but his fingers brushed your stretch marks and he instantly felt your hand take his wrist, stopping him. That set him off into a world of worry.

“Woah, what’s wrong, sweetheart?” He asked, frowning as his eyes abandoned the movie, instantly locking on you. “Everything ok? You’re not hurt, are you?”

“No, it’s fine, just don’t wanna be touched there.” You murmured, kissing his cheek, but he didn’t believe that. His hand slowly lifted up your shirt, watching you for any signs of extreme discomfort, or even slight. But you didn’t stop him, so when he saw your stretch marks, he raised his eyebrows with a smile.

“Hey, there, beautiful.” He chuckled, rubbing his thumb over them. “Where have you been hiding?”

Wait, what? He didn’t mind?

“You don’t- you’re not grossed out, or you don’t hate them?” You asked, severely confused but hopeful. And slightly embarrassed that you immediately expected him to hate them.

CJ’s eyebrows raised to his hairline, and he kissed your forehead. “Being grossed out by these is like being grossed out when you get your period, and I love you even more when you’re on your period. I get to cuddle with you and love you. This right here just gives me an extra opportunity to show you how beautiful you are. These are normal. It’s a natural process, and I’m a nature guy.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Really.” He grinned, kissing you briefly but sweetly, and it melted all your nerves. He was controversially perfect, you thought, and that made you love him even more.

Damn him.

“Thank you.” You sighed, cupping his cheek. He responded with a smile and kissed the inside of your wrist, rubbing the marks on your skin with a grin on your face.

CJ looked down to the stretch marks, kissing you deeply. “Don’t you ever think anything about you makes you less than.” He murmured against your lips, hand coming up to cup your chin.

ALEC MCDOWELL

Alec McDowell, a cocky-ass son of a bitch. He knew it, everyone knew it, and he did well to remind everyone of it whenever he opened his goddamn mouth. However, he was your cocky-ass son of a bitch, because he was your boyfriend.

As he was a transgenic and you were a human, he’d heard of stretch marks but never seen them on a person because transgenics didn’t have bodily imperfections. It was practically impossible. So when you opened up to him about your insecurities about them, well, he was more than willing to comfort you even if he was inwardly confused as fuck.

You were beautiful. What was this nonsense?

“I don’t see anything that ain’t beautiful, if that’s what you’re asking.” He shrugged, being a little shit and acting as if your stretch marks didn’t exist. “In fact, I see some gorgeous tiger stripes. Absolutely stunning.”

The comparison had you chucking a throw pillow to him, which he caught, obviously. “Alec!”

Alec gave you a grin, setting the pillow aside and catching another one. “What, you’re telling me those things don’t look like tiger stripes? Come on, dollface. Be entirely honest.” He pointed at the stretch marks with a sexy smirk that would’ve had your knees weak not for the situation. “Tiger. Stripes. Cause you’re fierce. Majestic.”

“You’re actually crazy.” Despite yourself, you were grinning like a lovesick idiot.

“Crazy for you, baby.” He replied with a wink, setting the pillow aside before reaching the bed with his advanced speed, beginning to kiss your neck. “Now, about that body of yours…”

JASON TEAGUE

“Wait- hold on for a moment.” Jason raised an eyebrow, pulling back from kissing you senseless on your bed. “You saying ‘I wanna show you something’ wasn’t code for sex? Baby, we gotta make signals more clear.”

You lifted your shirt, showing Jason the marks around your stomach. His eyebrows raised slightly at them, and you bit your lip. “Is this ok with you?”

Is this ok?

Is this ok?

“Should it not be?” He raised his eyebrow with a small smile. “I’m not fazed by these, sweetheart. In fact, the fact that you have normal bodily reactions, that makes you more gorgeous to me. In fact, the knowledge that you breathe turns me on, because it’s normal.” You could practically taste the amusement in his words, and you swatted his shoulder with a laugh.

“Alright, I get it.” You pouted, and he let out a small ‘aww’ and wrapped his arms around you, kissing your temple. “I get it.”

Jason hummed, cupping your chin so he could turn it for a slow kiss. “Look, I’m gonna revert back to… seventh grade. I think. And I have no shame in it, especially not when I say that I think you’re really pretty. And I think you’re smart, and funny, and you have a killer body - that’s not seventh grade - but my point is that nothing about that bothers me. Ok? So don’t let it bother you, I don’t love you any less.”

©️ 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐤 / 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲’𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐨

𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐝/𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝

@goldngguk @sweetpeachbombshell @slut-for-stiles @staple-your-mouth @daddyscrimsstuff

@dob-4-life @marcis-mixtapez @nonoreas0n @gabrielasilva1510

@lucyholmes13 @pandadork-blog1 @nicolstancu @malusinhaaaa @dybalabandolero

@a-cup-of-nightshade @tomatoessoup @sh0rtcakee @fall-06 @mckaykay-fandoms

@b3th13

@demonxangelomegaverse @deanwinchestersgirl87 @capailluiscedove @i723l-interrupted2323 @niyomiii

@all-the-fan-fic @eviekinevie8 @sunflowerlover57

@1-800-dean-winchester

@darichvep @idk-usernme @supernaturalmarvel3000 @ega2025 @deanbrainrotwritings

@targaryenluvs @bucky-hydra-hoe-barnes @leigh70 @aintnowayboi @ripoffsteveharrington

@gleefulleve @sacrosankta

@riteofpassage77 @eevvvaa @thedevilortheangel @thorsballhair @barbienotdoll

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@dean-winchester-is-a-warrior

@katherineeekai @freefallthoughts @angzls @deans-baby-momma @syrma-sensei

@cheynovak

[suckerforcate]

making my first emily request, not read much of it yet bc i'm worried about spoilers and i'm only on season 4 (tbf have fucking blasted through it so far, watching multiple eps a day).

emily/reader, reader is hotch's little sister who isn't part of the bau but works with them occasionally. hotch Does Not Know about her and em. unclear if he even knows she's gay. any other details of it are up to you bestie, i trust you 💚

Segreto Piccolo

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x fem!Reader

Word Count: 1336

Warning: I think none?

Summary: Emily and you had been dating for a few months and now you're brother had found out (set around season 3 or 4)

A/n: OK, so this is the first time I've ever written for Em. I hope it's okay? Hope it's not too ooc. Would be delighted by a comment or repost!!! <3

■----------------------------------------■

“Come on, babe. He won’t rip your head off.” You nearly whined and gave Emily the best puppy eyes you could manage. You’d been dating her for a few months now, it was all still very fresh, but you really liked her. A lot.

Your brother, Aaron Hotchner, was the Unit Chief of the BAU and sometimes brought you in for cases. You worked as a children’s psychiatrist and had turned out to be very helpful on cases involving children. In any form, as victims, as witnesses and as UnSubs. On one of those cases, you had met Emily Prentiss. Truth be told, she had caught your eye immediately, but it had taken you three more cases to actually ask her out. She was amazing, not to mention absolutely gorgeous. She was smart and quick-witted, an amazing Profiler, adorable with kids and really funny. And after you had started dating you had learned that she loved with all she had. And it was wonderful.

Except for one thing. She was afraid of telling your brother. Emily hadn’t been on the team for long, and now she hooked up with his baby sister? He’d kill her. Or at least that’s what she assumed. She didn’t know Aaron like you did. He could be stoic and serious at work, but he was a sweetheart and a wonderful brother. He loved you and all he wanted was you to be happy. He might need some time adjusting, but he could never be mad for long.

“He’ll kill me, Tesoro. He’s only just warmed up to me.” She grumbled and you knew that was true. Her start on the team had been a bit bumpy. The whole situation was ridiculous. The two of you were cramped in about the smallest room in the whole building. A little storage room. You could feel some sort of utensils press into your spine, and you saw a box of pencils just over Emily’s shoulder. All in all, ridiculous to talk about something like this, at work, while hiding.

“No, he will not, Emily.” You pressed on, your hand still on her hip. Truthfully it didn’t really have anywhere else to go in this cramped space. “It might shock him a bit, but he’ll come around. Please, Em. You know how important Aaron is to me. I want him to know.” You explained what you had explained at least five times before and again gave her puppy dog eyes she rarely could refuse.

You could see her melt under your gaze and just as she wanted to answer the door to the small room opened, and you were faced with your brother’s usual serious expression. His expression didn’t change much, but you could see a subtle twitch of his eyes. His eyes wandered from you to Emily and back to you again. “Office. Both, now.” And he was gone. Emily groaned and closed her eyes.

“It’ll be fine, Em.” You tried to reassure her. You knew he’d probably be more disappointed than anything, cause you hadn’t told him. He didn’t even know you liked women. Emily let her head fall against your shoulder. “We had a nice few months, dolcezza. But I think I’m walking into my own death now.” She really had a hang for drama. Playfully you slapped her shoulder and chuckled.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Come on, babe.” You said and took her hand to lead her into your brother's office. No point in hiding it now. Besides, you had the suspicion that Penelope had known right from the start and that meant that at least Derek knew as well. And JJ was perceptive, Spencer on the other hand not so much for a Profiler. But what does it matter?

You led Emily through the bullpen and up the few steps right to Aaron’s office door. It was open, and your brother was already looking at you. No need to knock, you thought. You simply stepped inside, Emily practically needing to be dragged in there behind you. You motioned her to close the door and very reluctantly she let go of your hand to do so.

Aaron got up and rounded his desk, standing in front of you, his hands in his pockets. His features softened visibly. The way they did at work only if you were around. Or if Jack came to visit. “Why didn’t you tell me you like women?” He asked, and you saw a hint of surprise on Emily’s face in the corner of your eye. She didn’t know that he didn’t know. But contrary to what she probably believed now it hadn’t been because you were scared to come out or anything. You simply shrugged.

“I thought I’d tell you if I’ll ever get a girlfriend and then I kind of never did.” You said and looked at him a bit sheepishly. “But now I do.” You said and smiled proudly, which warmed Emily’s heart immediately and calmed her immensely. Aaron even cracked a very small smile. Then he looked at Emily at the small vanished. You grabbed Em’s hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

“You’ve been here little more than a year and start dating my sister, Prentiss?” He said and studied Emily. You could say he was profiling her. Emily opened her mouth, no doubt to defend herself. But Aaron gave her not a second. “Remember, I’m your superior. Hurt her, and you’ll fly off this team faster than you can blink.” You had to hide a small giggle. Aaron rarely played protective brother. It was a bit funny to see almost all colour fade from Emily’s face. She interrogated Serial Killers, but your brother was too much.

“Alright, Aaron. Enough of that.” You said and drew his attention back to you. He softened a bit again and pulled you into a rare hug. No words. Just a hug. And that was enough. Then he rounded his desk and sat down again.

“You're invited for dinner on Saturday.” He said right before you were out of his office. It nearly looked comedic, the way everything in Emily’s face fell as soon as she heard him. You quickly closed the office door behind you and grabbed her hands.

Emily wasn’t the relationship type. She hadn’t had a lot of them, and they had never been very long. Or at least that’s what she had told you. She was always afraid of somehow fucking it up. You squeezed her hands until she was looking at you.

“It’ll be fine. He didn’t rip your head off now, he won’t on Saturday. And Jack will love you, which is basically the way to Aaron’s heart.” It did little to calm the brunette. She swallowed hard and nodded slowly.

“What do I wear? How do I act? Do I buy him something? Wine? I’ve never done this before, dolcezza.” She rambled, and it would have been cute if she hadn’t looked so worked up.

“You’ll wear something nice. Which you always do. I promise Aaron will just be wearing a T-shirt. You act like yourself which is the way I love you. And wine is a good idea but absolutely not necessary.” You assured her, answering one question after another. You had been so concerned about calming her that you hadn’t really thought about the exact words you had used.

“Love?” She asked a bit perplexed. Maybe it was a bit early but with Emily? How could you not love her. You grinned a bit stupidly. “Of course, you idiot.” She cracked a smile at that, and you were very thankful for that. You’d walk through hell to see that smile.

“Ti amo anch'io, tesoro.” She whispered against your lips, having leaned in. The kiss was a bit sloppy, cause you were both smiling like lovesick idiots. Which you kind of were.

“Oh my god, this is adorable!” A very excited voice called through the bullpen, unmistakably Penelope’s. Emily and you broke apart, laughing softly. You stood incredibly close to each other, hands still intertwined. Both your head turned, and you weren’t surprised to see the whole team stare at you. Most of them just smiled knowingly. Spencer looked like he had missed about twenty chapters, which her kind of had. His head turned from us to JJ next him.

“Wha-?” Everyone just laughed fondly. Everything was fine.

[thepunkranger]

Resident Evil Characters - A Summary

Note: This is entirely my own opinion and said with a heavy dose of humor

Please enjoy

Chris Redfield

OG

Started as a twunk

Became an angry gorilla man???

Alpha Male™️

Punches boulders

Wants you to marry his sister

Smoker

Hide yo kids, hide yo wife

Rude to wait staff

2/10 - Just a guy. Hit him with your car

-

Jill Valentine

Other OG

Arguably better main of RE1

Master of Unlocking

Bisexual Bob™️

Butch

Supercop

Once got mind-controlled into going blonde

Rocket Launcher babe

PTSD

Big Strap Energy

Giant anime gun

10/10

-

Albert Wesker

OG Baddy

Sunglasses

Thinks he’s cool

A little too into Chris

“What are we going to do this game, Albert?”

“What we do every game, Alex: try to take over the world”

Matrix jacket

Maybe a vampire?

Looks like my uncle (derogatory)

4/10

-

Barry Burton

Bear

A+ line delivery

Just happy to be a part of things

Wishes his daughter would talk to him

Comes through in a pinch

Got lost on his way to The Last of Us

Father figure

Not dead out of sheer dumb luck

8/10

-

Rebecca Chambers

Baby butch

Sees the best in everyone

Autism be damned, my girl can work a shotgun

Sporty

Mommy Domme/Babygirl switch vibes

Sweet coffee addict

Doing fine, thanks for asking

Awkward thumbs up

9/10

-

Billy Coen

Bad Boy™️

Never bothered to take off his handcuffs

Tattoos

Mullet???

Moral standards

Strong silent type

Whole situation could’ve been avoided by just talking about his issues but no

Queen fan

7/10

-

Leon S. Kennedy

If a golden retriever became a human and then got kicked every day of its life

Having a really bad first day

Into dominant women

Dumb 90s haircut

Uses comedy as a coping mechanism

Hair grows in direct correlation to his level of angst

“Hey demons, it’s me, ya boi”

Sexy

Dog lover

Certified Good Boy™️

Fucked up a perfectly good rookie is what you did. Look at it, it’s got depression

15/10

-

Claire Redfield

College student stuck in the zombie apocalypse

Soft butch

Humanitarian

Forced her brother to teach her how to knife fight

Really into motorcycles

Leather jacket

Rocket Launcher babe #2

Always has at least one adopted child with her

10/10 would ask to babysit

-

Ada Wong

Mommy. Sorry. Mommy- sorry. Mommy-

Grappling hook

Badass spy

Emotionally distant

Soft spot for cute cuddly things (Leon)

Femme fatale

Book lover

Chaotic neutral

Crossbow 😍

Could step on me and I’d say thank you

Rocket launcher babe #3

10/10

-

Sherry Birkin

Goosebumps protagonist

Worst parents ever tbh

Surprisingly good under pressure

Please someone get this girl some therapy

Supergirl

Smartest person here

One hell of a shot

The trauma is immeasurable

Somehow still doing fine

Loves her weird adopted family

8/10

-

Carlos Oliviera

Himbo

First POC main?

Went from three polygons and a white boy haircut in the original to actual gorgeous South American hunk in the remake

Lost his accent along the way for some reason

#1 Jill simp

If Dug from Up was a guy

Only trustworthy person in the whole series

Just wants to help

Gorgeous gorgeous hair

Loves strong women

Hakuna matata

Touch-starved

10/10 would peg

-

Steve Burnside

Twink

Who is this sassy lost child?

Hot Topic employee

Into Claire (she’s too old for you bud)

Choker

Thinks he’s edgy

Whiny

Daddy issues

1/10

-

Luis Serra Navaro

If Puss in Boots was a human

The Most Extra™️

Luscious flowing locks

Definitely into bondage

Used to work for Umbrella

Trying to make up for it

Don Quixote references

Bisexual

Good with his hands

Praying for a threesome with Leon and Ada

10/10

-

Ashley Graham

Basic white girl

Always getting kidnapped

Master of Unlocking #2

Razor flip phone

Ada Wong bisexual awakening (same)

Good with a wrecking ball

Makes Leon catch her every time she has to jump a ledge (also same)

Would like to go to Hot Topic, please

7/10

-

Sheva Alomar

Player 2

Second POC main

Bad AI

Too good for her game

Willing to go on a suicide mission with a guy she just met

Left handed

Deserves a better stylist

Only good part of RE5

Literally my girl got done so dirty just give her another chance please

10/5

-

Moira Burton

“It’s not a phase, dad!”

Probably gay

Weak arms

Skillz

Box dyed her hair at least once

Simple Plan playing in the background

Childhood trauma

7/10

-

Piers Nivans

Trying his best

Appreciates a good steak

Sick of Chris’ bullshit

Good with a rifle

Just a good man

German Shepherd boy

Self-sacrificing

8/10

-

Jake Muller

Wesker’s son

Daddy issues

Who invited Ronan Lynch here?

Quips for days

Bad boy

Loves the type of woman who can kick his ass

The Most Edgy™️

9/10

-

Ethan Winters

Husband of the year

Trusting

Surprisingly chill

The most basic white man in all of RE

Hands? What hands?

Functionally a lizard

Would still love you if you were a worm

Just casually knows how to craft bullets

Moldy

8/10

-

Mia Winters

Toxic girlfriend energy

Literally possessed

Dark sense of humor

Gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss

Casually working for a bioterrorism organization

Does actually care about her family

Definitely doesn’t have a penicillin allergy

If you can’t be the girl of his dreams, you can at least be the feral swamp witch of his nightmares

2/10

-

Zoe Baker

Lesbian

Mold intolerance

Southern accent thicker than grandma’s gravy

Picked last on the playground

Somehow okay despite her brother being Like That

Joe’s favorite

Science skills

8/10

-

Lucas Baker

Jigsaw

Didn’t even need the mold

Probably got at least one true crime documentary made about him

Working for Mia’s bioterrorism organization

Left his classmate rotting in the attic

Just the worst

0/10

-

Alcina Dimetrescu

Mommy

Please step on me

Elizabeth Bathory vibes

Just fucking huge

Can turn into a dragon

Lesbian

9/10

-

Karl Heisenberg

Grimy

Tumblr Sexyman

When robotics majors get weird

Fights with his siblings

Doesn’t actually care at all about Miranda

In cahoots with the lycans

7/10

-

Rosemary Winters

Mommy and Daddy issues

YA protagonist

Badass

Childhood trauma

Into the Mold-verse

Alternate universe Sherry Birkin

8/10

[sierrale8ne]

40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS CHAPTER THREE

thought i’d be lying if i said ‘i didn’t want you to myself.’ when you look me in my eyes and, tell me that it’s mine, i…

pairing wnba!paige bueckers x singer!oc

taglist @thaatdigitaldiary @patscorner @makethemhoesmad @ohbueckers @rosemariiaa @wbbgetsmewetter @authentic-girl03

kalena speakss 🪽! paige has known maraye for no more than two days and she is down baddddd! yall gonna hate me for the end of this chapter icl 🙂‍↔️

May 2025 — Phoenix, Arizona 

“P, she has a boyfriend. She’s straight! Do you understand?” Rickea leans over towards me from her seat beside mine.

We’re in the trainers room, through the glass Cam is doing her rehab while Rae and Dearica talk about God knows what in front of us. This conversation has happened in different variations multiple times during the last two days.

Once when Rickea texted me immediately after the game, telling me I was insane for sizing Maraye up in public (which I was not doing, she’s just dramatic). Another when our flight landed last night, at our lift 20 minutes ago, and once more right now.

I roll my eyes. “I’m not gonna do anything! She’s pretty, I have eyes. That’s it.” I speak in my defense. Maraye having a boyfriend was enough for me to take a step back, she was someone else’s which I simply had to respect. I’m not one to break up a happy home. 

I guess her being straight should also tell me to walk away too, given my track record of hooking up with wildly toxic straight women. Los Angeles would probably not be the best place to continue that tradition.

“Okay but do you understand what I’m telling you. You will get yourself hurt, either by her or— if you fuck something up— by me; and I’m actually starting to like you.”

“Starting to? What about all the tampering you were doing to get me here?” I ask Rickea.

“I ain’t say you weren’t good.” She points, “but that’s not the point. She’s in a relationship.” 

It takes a minute, but everything my teammate says sticks in my head. I was getting ahead of myself in multiple ways. Plus, it probably wouldn’t be ideal for my first pro scandal to involve the most popular musician in the country. If CD was here she’d have probably torn my other ACL if she knew what I was up to.

So I nod. Looking over at Rickea’s stern expression makes me shift in my spot, very clearly irritating the lovely older woman who tapes my ankles. “I’m on my best behavior, swear to God.” I speak. My right hand falls over my heart in promise. 

“Better be. It’s your ass not mine, Rook.” 

—

May 2025 — Los Angeles, California 

When the door to Cameron and Ben’s gorgeous home swings open, I’m greeted by a very tall and very and very smiley stunning Cameron Brink. She wears a black off-the-shoulder maxi dress that touches the floor.

There is a container of Banana Pudding in my hand and with the way she smiles and sighs a breath of relief, I think she likes it.

“Maraye, you’re a lifesaver.” She pulls me into a warm greeting hug and I return the gesture, clutching to the dessert in my other hand. “Don’t tell anyone, but Ben burned the dessert and I was getting a bit nervous.” She whispers in my ear.

I giggle. “Anything I can do to help. Thank you for having me!”

“Are you kidding? Thank you for coming!” Cameron steps to the side, allowing me to walk into the home. I hear the voices of all the guests in the home, specifically the yelling of Ben and his friends to my far left. “Come on, all the girls are in the kitchen, guys will be there in a minute.”

She takes the dessert from my hand and I follow behind her into the kitchen. It was out before me, a vast expanse of modern elegance that seemed to breathe life into the home. Sleek lines and a minimalist design, and an organization that seemed to make it more open. Cameron definitely had good taste. It was around 6, and the sun peered through the blinds and covered the room in a yellow haze.

The dining table nearby is decorated white clean white tablecloth and candles and flowers. We would be making pasta, which is why we started out in the kitchen, but each seat at the table was decorated with crisp plates and personalized name tags.

“This place is beautiful, Cameron.” I comment.

“Thank you! Spent a little too much of the rookie contract on it.” She responds, pushing me just a tad with her finger further into the kitchen. “Everyone grab a partner, you two will be working together on your pasta dough!” Cameron instructs with her voice full of enthusiasm.

So I look up, and all spaces in the kitchen area are all occupied. All but the one and only spot besides Paige Bueckers herself.

She calls me over with a cock of her head. There’s a smirk on her face, one that she seems to keep in her back pocket. She wears dark wash jeans and a white loose fitting top that’s kinda cropped; of course. There’s a red and white short sleeve flannel over it and a gold cross chain that I can’t seem to remove my eyes from.

“How’re you, ma, you good?” She asks me. I think she doesn’t register the pet name before it leaves her mouth, but it still makes my heart race. 

“Look who showed up.”

—

I’m fucked.

I’m so totally, absolutely, fucking fucked.

Maraye is standing in front of me in a short strapless red dress. The top is skin tight but the bottom flows nicely against her thighs and it’s taking everything in me to not stare down at her tits and have her think I’m a perv. It’s like everything that Rickea had told me earlier in the week just went in one ear and out of the other. Just like that. Off of one look.

“Uh, yeah. Couldn’t miss it.” I smile, taking a few steps to my right and allowing her to stand next to me.

Her scent is intoxicating, some sort of Chanel perfume that makes me dizzy in the best way imaginable. 

“You ever done this before?” She asks me. I nervously look out over the counter, the eggs and flour and the cookbook of all different types of pasta shapes. 

“Yeah, once.”

“And It worked out?”

“You’re not giving me enough credit. I’m a great chef.” I defend.

It only takes a matter of minutes for everyone else to get into their own worlds. Cameron and Ben start giving us instructions, mixing up the ingredients and getting to know each other better. I silently thank God for bringing Maraye next to me right now.

“Unt-uh. I’m not touching those eggs, you got it.” I hear her laugh. There’s flour on the waistline of her dress, a matching smear similar to the one across my jeans and my cheek. It got a little messy.

“Nah, I did the flour—”

“—You got it on my dress—”

“—And you got it on my face. C’mon.” I call out for her. Maraye looks up at me again, with those insanely addicting eyes of hers. She takes a step closer towards me and I take hold of both of her wrists, plunging her hands into the well of flour and eggs.

She gasps, the ingredients splashing towards both of us again and I find great satisfaction in the scowl she sends my way. What is wrong with me?

“You’re a dickhead!” She laughs, followed by a huff as she attempts to blow a strand of hair away from her face. “Paige, there’s shit all over me!”

“You’ll be aight, angel. I’ll pay for your dry cleaning, how ‘bout that?” My hand lets go of one of her hands and naturally finds the hair in her vision and pushes it behind her ear. 

“Angel?”

“I gotta call you something, right?” I ask. 

Without a word, Maraye starts kneading the dough together. Her eyes met mine briefly before darting back down. “You can call me Raye.” Her voice is quiet, shy almost. I’ve never heard her speak to me like that but for whatever reason I find it adorable.

“Yeah, but that’s gonna get confusing with that one over there.” I comment, pointing to my teammate Rae just a few feet away from us. “And I can’t call you what everyone else calls you.” 

I step aside from her, my back flush against the counter and my arms crossed. I reach for the glass of red wine that we had each poured out, grimacing at the taste because I hate wine but if Maraye loves it I might as well pretend.

“Alright. Since you think you’re special.” Maraye rolls her eyes with a tight lip grin. “But keep it cordial, before Kea gets an idea.”

“It’s not an ‘idea’ if you actually like me”

“I’m straight.”

“That septum in your nose says otherwise.”

Then the second those words leave my mouth, there’s more flour across my face. I don’t even have time to register it.

“You didn’t.” I shut my eyes in disbelief.

“Oh I sure did.” Maraye is giggling to herself moving her dirty hands back to the pasta dough in front of her. “Go grab me a towel, please.”

I think I’ve met my match with this one.

“You’re still standing here, and I don’t have a towel.” She jokes, looking up at me with a smirk that damn near mirrored mine. 

“You’re not angelic even in the slightest.” I reply. She juts her lip out at me in triumph and I hop off the counter, reaching for the nearest clean towel and tossing it over to her.

“You two having fun over there?” Rickea yells from across the room. Her hands are muddled together with sticky dough strings. She’s eying me intently, basically telling me telepathically to keep it in my pants.

“Yep!”

“So much fun!”

—

I fumble with my keys as I try to enter my high rise apartment. In my left hand, holds the leftovers of all the pasta we made earlier. A container of fettuccine alfredo and another with shrimp scampi. To my chest I clutch the tupperware of empty banana pudding (Paige literally ate it all and made me give her my number to promise to make her more).

I finally get the door open and push it further with my hip. It’s completely dark, except for a yellow haze that comes through my hallway. Did I leave a light on?

I set everything on the nearest table top, and walk deeper into the home.

That’s when I see it. The candles and flowers on my coffee table, and him. Julian. He’s nervously rubbing his palms on his jeans, but he stands up almost instantly when he sees me.

“Ju, what-what’re you doing here? It’s late, and—”

He cuts me off before I can finish my stammering. “Just listen? Okay? I’m-I’m sorry. I’ve been the biggest asshole about everything, about us. It’s not right. It’s your career, I should respect whatever you have to do to be successful.”

I can feel my hands sweat and my knees buckle.

“I want to be with you. At all costs, I want to support you. And I’m sorry I’ve made you feel like I don’t.” He pauses and reaches over for the bouquet of roses wrapped in red paper sitting on the table. “So, this probably isn’t the most romantic way to go about it, but can y— can I be your boyfriend?”

He’s rambling, I know he’s nervous, and suddenly I feel like the biggest piece of shit on the planet because I just spent the last four hours shamelessly flirting with Paige Bueckers and here Julian was doing the exact thing I’ve been hoping for, for the last three months. 

Except I don’t feel the way I think I should.

I’m not giddy and my stomach isn’t full of butterflies like I thought they’d be. Instead my heart is beating out of my chest so badly that I can hear it. Maybe Paige can hear it however far away she is.

Why on Earth am I thinking about Paige?

“Raye, baby? What d’you say?”

So I nod. My mouth ajar but no words can form on my tongue. I just nod and force a smile to my face as I walk closer to him. He hugs me, arms so tight around my waist that they feel suffocating, but I hug him back. 

“Yeah.” I whisper, trying to wrap my head around what is happening.

[salamanderst]

Part series?? Lmk

One of the girls

{Chris Sturniolo}

Warnings: pet names?? (baby(, use of y/n, mentions of sex (nothing happens yet!!) toxic!chris (sorry 😞 he gets better i swear) fratboy!chris kinda??, also i forgot to say this last smut but English is not my first language so i apologize for spelling mistakes!! lmk if theres anything else.

A/n: Omg I think I’m actually tweaking I’ve been putting off writing this because I think all my writing abilities just got up and left. So I’m so sorry if this is ass {it probably is} but erm let’s go!

Orange; Chris speaking

Pink; reader speaking

“So what do you wanna watch?” I ask Chris.

I came over to watch a movie, every Friday we like to watch a movie after he’s filmed with his brothers, but right now he’s acting off.

“Ehh. It’s what ever, I don’t care.” He replies eyes glued to his phone clearly not listening to me.

“Chris, hello???”

“Yea, yea whatever you say.”

"Chris im gonna fuck other men." i saw with a grin on my face.

he immediately looks up from his phone looking straight into my eyes. no words coming out of him.

"chris im kidding, now will you listen please?" i say laughing.

"yea, im sorry." he give me a smile, he paces me his phone so he wont go on it, i slip into my pocket giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you. Now what movie do you wanna watch?” i said snuggling up to him grabbing the remote.

“Ohh how about that new one on Disney that just came out”

___________________________________

We’re about half way through the movie and Chris goes to the washroom.

I still have his phone in my pocket, honestly i completely forgot about till i felt it ding. i pulled in out of my pocket to see a notification.

Who the fuck is Olivia?!

I put his phone down on the coffee table as I hear his footsteps coming closer to the couch.

“Hey babe im kinda tried I think ima go to bed, you wanna head home?”

I’m gonna kill this man.

I grab his phone from the table. “Who the fuck is Olivia. Chris?”

at least that’s what i wanted to do. But I’m too tried for drama right now. and me and Chris are actually good, i don't wanna start stuff.

“Yea sure babe I’ll see you later, good night!” i said forcing a smile walking to his front door, as he grabbed his phone and walked up to his room.

___________________________________

i never go to sleep angry, its my number one rule. and i broke it because of this stupid man whore who i'm not even dating, just stupid friends with benefits. but we agreed not to fuck or text other people.

fuck it. im gonna go talk to him.

i get in my car and drive to his place, its 9am but if he wants to fuck other women i can interrupt his sleep. i knock on his door as load as i can, i forgot his brothers also live there.

Nick opens the door, as im about to yell i see his face and step back.

"y/n whats going on??" nick says rubbing his eyes and giving me a look, i felt so bad.

"oh my god im so sorry, i didnt mean to wake you up. im just here to talk to Chris."

"oh uh.. hes in his room." he said gave me a wired look, letting me in as he went back up to his room.

i closed the door behind me and walked downstairs to Chris's room, i was hesitant at first but then i opened the door, i didnt knock i didnt really want to. chris was awake on his phone staring up at me.

"oh.. hi." he said putting down his phone furrowing his eyebrows. "whats going on?"

"are you texting other people?" i said calmly as i sat at the edge of his bed, honestly im surprised i didnt yell, my brain feels like its forgot how to.

"what are you talking about..?" he said sitting up to face me more, acting confused.

"chris, please..." i took a pause, god he was so gorgeous. its hard to be mad at someone whos this pretty. "be honest."

"baby, i am being honest." he said cupping my face with his right hand. i cant fall into him, i told myself repeatedly.

i brushed his hand off my face. "chris, i saw a text on your phone last night. from someone named, Olivia."

he was taken aback he knew what i was taking about. a part of me wanted him to deny it and say its some friend. but no friend asks if a girl is still at some mans house. it wasnt a friend, and we both knew that.

"i-im sorry.." he said in a very quiet voice, i was hurt that it was true. but im thankful he was honest. "its this girl i met at a party, but i swear we only fucked once." he kept talking but my mind went blank after the word 'fucked', was i not enough for him? was i bad, that he had ti get other women to satisfy him? i started to over think everything. what does this bitch do that i cant??

tears started to well up in my eyes when i heard his words. "woah, woah. y/n whats wrong??" he said putting his hand on my shoulder.

"No! dont chris! this is fucking bullshit, we agreed not to fuck other people!" i said in a shaky voice standing up.

"c-can we just talk, please...?" he said softly standing up. i didnt wanna fucking talk? who the fuck would want to talk??

"no. im leaving you're a fucking whore. i should've left before anything started." i said scoffing grabbing my bag and stomping out his room running to the front door, out to my car.

i started my car a drove home, i sat in the parking lot of my apartment for at least 20 minutes before getting out of my and heading inside. i sat on my couch, ill talk to him in a couple of day. at least it was only one girl right...?

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Hiii could i get a mix of sfw and nsfw headcanons for kaoru hanayama from baki please??

Ah yes, Kaoru my first Baki crush. I've gotchu, fam~

🐉Ah, Kaoru, Kaoru, the gentlest Yakuza in the world, while also being the most sinful.

🐉Kaoru can fuck all women in all the brothels of Japan, and settle down the next day with a wifey.

🐉Just kidding. But he has the stamina for that though.

🐉Hanayama is a bit skeptical at first, getting in a relationship with someone, especially if you're not part of the underworld - But at the same time, he knows he's strong and that he can protect you, so he won't reist too much, if he has a genuine interest in you.

🐉He may seem intimidating the first time you see him, but when he smiles, all your worries disappear from the face of the earth.

🐉His touch is so gentle and caring that you melt with love and nuzzle into his palm like a kitten.

🐉He enjoys cuddles more than he'd ever imagine - Though he's not shy about asking you for it. Or, rather, he just pulls you in his embrace at night and enjoys the peace and quiet.

🐉Hearing your rhythmic heart beat brings him such calm.

🐉And he's also happy that Kizaki is fond of you and already treats you like you're Kaoru's wife.

🐉If his mother was still alive, he'd have liked you to meet her - Instead, he took you to her grave.

🐉The way you spoke to her, how you thanked her for raising such a wonderful son - It made him tear up.

🐉He just loves you so much.

🐉You might go on a double date with Baki and Kozue.

🐉Kaoru knows you're afraid for him whenever he goes to fight, but he reassures you that he won't die, and it's what makes him happy - So you just go there and support him.

🐉You end up so used to it that when you go out with him and he's so bored that he calls Yujiro just for a punch to the face, you merely groan at his childishness.

🐉Yujiro teases you for being a good girlfriend for him though.

🐉The only time you're genuinely worried for him is when he fights Musashi and he gets so injured that you end up urgently calling Baki to come over and intervene, while you stand defensively in front of the injured, heavily bleeding man as Kizaki is trying to keep him stable.

🐉Musashi wants to kill Hanayama so bad though, but he doesn't want to kill an ordinary woman - He finds your reckless bravery in defending your lover rather admirable though.

🐉When Baki finally arrives, you sigh in relief and drag Hanayama to the hospital.

🐉You keep by his bed until he wakes up - When those gorgeous eyes finally flutter open, you start sobbing and kissing his hand, thanking him for waking up.

🐉He's genuinely upset that he cause you such distress, but he's also so touched for you care for him.

🐉He wants to wife you immediately.

🐉And you'll have a small and beautiful traditional wedding at a Shinto temple.

🐉Hanayama's love language is gifts - But that's mostly because he's so busy with the Yakuza thing that he often spends time away from you, and he has no other way to compensate.

🐉But when you spend time together, it's always worth while.

🐉When you do end up getting intimate, well - You're reminded that this young man was capable of tying a cherry stem with his tongue before he even had his first kiss. And that he's very well endowed.

🐉It's actually almost insane how careful and sweet he is with you, always focusing on you and your pleasure rather than his own.

🐉Gentlemen finish last, was it?

🐉He doesn't feel satisfied until he's made you see stars from how good you feel, even if it ends up taking hours.

🐉You're not going anywhere.

[son-of-anubis]

Pre-payment

Billy x Brothel Worker MALE reader

Warning: prostitution, reference to other consumers that are not so nice, panic at being outed, and panic at being murdered (?), oral (because I still haven't figured out how to write actual sex without sounding stupid), some talk of saliva

A/N: It felt like people appreciated the last one so I thought I could try to write another idea i had!

Sometimes I questioned why I even stayed here. The room was filled with old fuckers just wanting something warm to help get their rocks off.

Disgraces with a false gentlemen attitude and some money to spare. The occasional woman who wanted to be treated like a princess for once.

The brothel lighting hurt my eyes and I prayed that the whiskey-blur would take away my headache. Looking around at the lightly clad women I sighed. The young men like myself rarely mingled. We got introduced as barbacks mostly. With the opinion people held on woman visiting such places, and especially men being with men it was obviously that we were a 'special request' item. 

I could hear the doors swing open once more, loud voices demanding attention. A quick glance and I could see a blond man leading the pack. 

With quick strides towards the Madam he demanded 7 of her best whores, and he sure had the funds to back it up. 

The man made eye contact with me and I tried to look away as nonchalantly as possible.

"Hey, boy! You had your fun yet?" blondie shoutet in his direction. 

Had he? Mr. Redding had been in, he is always quite gentle, in his own way. Mrs. Bowen and her friend was also in for a visit. That went fine. In my mind I suddenly remembered that Mr. Archer had mentioned his plan to join me later that evening. 

The violent shudder was impossible to contain. If I could avoid Mr. Archer I would. The pain and fear was not worth the money if I could find time somewhere else.

I was fully aware they thought me just another patron. So I carefully said: "I ain't got the money for that."

"Aye, we got some for you, todays good deed, huh? Help ya pop your cherry!" the brunette next to blondie said, laughing.

I nodded in fake glee, maybe I could score some time with Lola, give her the night off to, I knew she worked to much since her kid got sick.

"Names Jessie." so not blondie, eh. 

"Most people call me Angel." It was for the best to say, no way I was giving out my name to some outlaws.

The buggy ride wasn't to bad. Me, Lola and Caroline was chatting. They took great amusement in me 'losing my cherry' this evening. I couldn't help the chuckle leaving my mouth. Yeah, it was pretty funny.

The 3 men up front started hollering, being met with equal enthusiasm somewhere in the near distance. 

As the wagon stopped, a group of maybe 12 men came into view, all dripping in machismo. Fucking losers if you asked me. 

My gaze stopped as ice blue eyes met mine. The shaggy brown hair under a worn and torn hat. He was absolutely beautiful....and probably would spend the night with one of the women. The reminder was not a fun one, but it was the way of life.

Caroline launched herself at the nearest outlaw and the others followed suit. I made my way at the back of the group, walking over to the open fire. 

I nodded at the people going into the cabin before departing, making sure they where okay with the current arrangement, but it was good money so I knew noone was actually going to protest.

The evening air was sticky and I grabbed the cup closes to me. Moonshine. That would do.

The giggling and moaning started soon after, but at this point in my life it was basically white noise.

They vague sound of footsteps approached, stopping next to me. As I cast a glace upwards I was met with blue. An involuntary shiver fell down my back. God he was gorgeous. 

"May I?" he asked, the drawl wasn't as worn in as most, he probably was not born in the west. 

I gestured to the rickedy chair next to me. 

"What's your name, sugar?" maybe the nickname was over the line, but half the excitement had always been toying between making men uncomfortable and getting beaten up.

The man lifted an eybrow but still answered.

"William Bonney, but you can call me Billy if you want." Billy tilted his head slightly, sizing me up, see if I was a threat. I really wasn't, and had never been, else I would never have gotten into this profession. "And what might yours be?"

The intense sensation of wanting to tell him my real name washed over me. Damn his hotness, I was always a sucker, metaphorically and literally, for charming people. 

"....people call me Angel." Oh shit, that hesitation could be heard a mile away. 

Billy looked at me, more like stared at me, for what felt like forever.

"You a.....worker?"

How the fuck did he spot that. Noone ever did, why the fuck did he? And why would he ask? I am dead. 

The panic in my chest hurt and I tried to keep my breathing even. 

Billy looked at me, expecting an answer and for some reason, I blame panic, I nodded. My eyes darted around wildly, I was going to die, and in the middle of nowhere. I was going to be murdered by Billy the fucking Kid. Oh fuck.

A hand lands on my shoulder and my eyes meet with Billys. He looked, concerned? Why?

"m'not telling anyone." he said, the cadence somthing you would use to calm a feral dog. 

He started rubbing my shoulder, and I found myself trying to match my breathing to his. 

The moments passed slowly, with me calming down at snail pace. The universe seemed aligned as we somehow gravitated towards each other, inching closer and closer until Billy had his arm around my shoulder. 

I looked up at him, sapphire piercing my soul. Time stopped as I leaned in, and with uncertainty and slight hesitance Billy did the same.

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

My back hit the cold wood of the shed as Billys tounges invaded my mouth. In our drunken stupor the saliva seemed abundant but neither of us minded the messiness. 

Billys hand found the back och my thigh, urging me to jump. He caught me effortlessly, wrapping my legs around his waist. As we pulled away for a breath a string of saliva briefly connected us.

"$10 for the hour, $25 for the night." i recited. I would be stupid to think this was anything other than a transactional affair, even if it without a doubt would be a hell of a lot better than Mr. Archer would have been.

Billy scoffed but dug out what looked like $50 from his pants.

He must have seen the confusion on my face as he flashed a quick grin.

"Pre payment, if you're good for it, 'cause next time I see you, I ain't keeping off ya."

My entire body heated up as Billy carried me over to some hay. He used his foot to kick some type of old fabric over it and unceromoniously threw me on it.

Quickly undressing without breaking eye contact and my eyes wandered the outlaws figure. He was lean and lanky, but also very obviously strong.

And as our clothing was completely gone my eyes traveled further down. Fuck. Ain't no way that beauty of a cock was fitting without some grease, and as far as I were aware, we had none. But never the less, the heat and spark of arousal fuled me even more.

When my eyes once again landed on his face it looked almost bashful, like he didn't know what to do with himself. It was a stark contrast to the overt confidence he had just minutes ago. 

I made the decision to initiate further and crawled my way over to him. Grabbing him softly, feeling him pulse in my hand, I gave his dick a experimentative lick from base to tip. I heard Billy draw in a sharp breath and as we locked eyes I put his tip in my mouth. 

I licked up the pre cum that landed on my tounge and swirled it around a bit. 

Hollowing my cheeks I plunged down, taking as much as possible of him. 

The bobbing started slow but quicked as we got comfortable. 

His hand slowly crept into my hair, giving an almost shy push, and I tried to take even more of his leangth. The gagging happened almost immediately.

"Ain't have to do it, ya know." Billy spoke in a gruff tone, sounding out of breath. 

I rolled my eyes before pulling out some, deep inhale, eyes closing, and finally slow dip. More, more, more. The gagging was easy enough to control. Before I knew it my nose hit a fuzzy patch. I looked up at Billy, tears streaming down my face, and was met with a man at the brink of insanity. 

Billys eyes held a haze that would disgust me if it was any other patron, but at this very moment I felt nothing but pride. I did that. If I could smile I would.

I felt the first small thrust and had to once again close my eyes to control the gag. But I still managed to give him a somewhat nod, consenting for further exploration. 

The thrusting started almost lazy, but quickly picked up. Billy using my hair as make shift reigns. The curses that left the mans mouth was foul but sounded oh so heavenly. In the mids of it all I heard "Angel" and tapped his thighs. Billy let me up with a shocked expression.

"Did I hurt ya? Didn't mean t......"

"Y/N." I interupted. The confusion grew on Billys face, still looking down on me on my knees, still with a hand in my hair. I pulled myself closer to his cock again, mouth open and ready as I expressed:

"My name, it's Y/N, call me that, please." 

I didn't care how desperate it sounded, I wanted him to praise my name the way it was supposed to be. Y/N the man, not Angel the whore.

Billy seemed taken aback for only a second before growling my name and pushing me back down on him. 

The pace seemed impossibly faster but the atmosphere was also much more intimate. I knew he was nearing the end and I started to periodically tighten my throat as much as I could. 

As I felt Billy start to pull away I buried my face in his pubic hair, clutching the back of his thighs. 

I felt his cum sliding down my throat, warm and smooth. Billy sinfully moaning above me. This was as perfect as a night could get, I was sure of it.

Pulling away, Billys knees buckled slightly, and I grinned up at him. 

He slowly sat down on the floor of the shed, coming down from his high. 

His hand made a vague gesture towards me and I shook my head.

"You're not gonna put that in me without any help," we shared a chuckle "but maybe you could put your mouth on mine again, cowboy?" 

Billy embraced me once again as we fell back onto the hay, but this time the kiss was much more controlled. 

"Once I'm ready for round 2, you're gonna forget everything that ain't my name, that good for you Y/N?" the teasingly cocky tone made me laugh, but I agreed anyway.

Definitely better than Mr. Archer.

[bloopitynoot]

Reading SVSSS: Chapter 2

For those who don't know, I am reading SVSSS for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag bloopitynoot reads SVSSS. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read.

Chapter 2: Mission

Okay pre read thoughts here. This story is so good! I am totally loving the premise of this, the system mechanics are wonderful (so much sass) but also so unpredictable!

I'm not going to lie I am nervous for this mission that Shen Yuan/Shen Qingqiu and co are about to go on. I just feel like things are about to get completely fucked LOL

again (as a reader not as system in book) points to Shen Yuan for noting how nasty the relationships are in this OG canon (p 63 re: Die-er and Old Master Chen- barf)

Okay but like I get it Shen Yuan- I still cannot imagine attempting to fake being a martial master OMG p.64

MOOD "Shen Qingqiu didnt even want to pretend to meditate, so he lay on the bed, just pretending to be dead" p65

unrelated to this plot but also related to this plot: I fucking love how MXTX is as a writer. I love the constant comments about the writing of women and side characters in fantasy writing it's very meta right now p67 (Re: shen Yuan/Shen Qingqiu- i haven't decided what to call him at this point tbh- talking about how the "original author" wrote the shittiest female characters).

I am once again here to talk about how Shen Yuan talks about Luo Binghe (he is a child- another barf) but also Shen Yuan does have this future(?) omniscient (?) knowledge about about what he becomes as a fully realized adult character - it still makes me deeply uncomfortable RE: "Shen Qingqiu could only say that, as expected, the brilliant protagonist truly was overwhelmingly cool, awesome, insane, and badass, with a dick longer than the heavens" p68

RIP easy mode XD LOL p69

why is he naked tho??? p71

bless her heart- RE: everything about Ning Yingying p74

I can't. Re: Luo Binghe's crisis pp76-77

If shen Qingqiu fixes this entire story by accidentally making Luo Binghe fall in love with him I- *deep sigh * pp76-77

The way Shen Yuan keeps reading the filth out of these characters- SO MUCH shade! "Their IQ wasn't beyond saving!" p 81

thank fuck he finally unlocked the OOC feat p85

Okay but the Lin Xi Caves actually sound so stunning p88

Re stunning caves: well minus the blood and qi deviation LOL

When his headcanon for Liu Qingge is absolutely wrecked ahahahaha p93

Liu Qingge really hates Shen Qingqiu (I mean, I get it but like still, damn) pp 97-98

Unrelated but I adore the way this sect is organized. It is visually stunning with the various peaks, im fully picturing this gorgeous mountain range

The QUEEREST thought so far in this is Shen Yuan commenting on the demon woman's (now I know she is Sha Hualing- don't @ me) footware, I can't p102

wait what the heck! Shen Qingqiu's fighting is so elegant! pp 106-107

Luo Binghe: status- Broken p107

OMG he wants to protect this kid but the struggle of a protagonist (re: -1000 if Luo Binghe does not fight) p109

Hell yeah! I already love Liu Mingyan!!! p111

OMG he totally is accidentally causing Luo Binghe to fall for him. I can't-what a way to fix the plot. p112

The hate Shen Yuan has for Ning Yingying is too much XD I keep laughing, oh no. Him basically saying "omg thank you for running away I literally cannot handle you in this fight because you are a constant mess" p116

wait. WTF. Is Shen Qingqiu going to die?!?!?! p124

oh, thank fuck, Liu Qingge showed up pp129-130

bahahahah OFC he's "repaying for the cave" p131

oh damn well shit okay, that's one way to end the chapter.

I hope his cultivation is not fucked because of the poison!?!?!?

also jesus, that's a harsh way to get points. Does he level up in this?? I feel like he at least deserves a level up.

That's all for this chapter!

Tomorrow is date night for me and my partner so maybe no chapter- but we will see if I have time to read earlier or not.