#this is complete crack of course but just IMAGINE

[kizzer55555]

Now I’m just imagining him taking the Joker.

Joker is in the middle of a scheme with the bats watching and maybe he’s doing pretty well. He’s got half the bats down with injuries, and he had just finished a magnificent monologue. And then suddenly this slow clapping fills the area. They look and see a figure leaning against the wall.

“impressive” He says.

The room is suddenly 30 degrees colder. Like worse than Dr Freeze cold, and a shiver runs down everyone’s spine. The person clapping is a glowing humanoid figure with white hair and piercing green eyes that glowed where they were obscured in shadow. And despite looking so young, it’s almost like his mere presence sucked the light out of everything. The shadows on the walls grew larger and even the surrounding colors seemed to dull.

Batman is the first to recover but it was a struggle to move. He questions who this person is and what he wants. The guy says that he’s here for his job. The bats get ready for a fight but the unsettling figure just ignores them and pulls out a glowing green list. “Jack Oswald White.” And everyone freezes, including the Joker who hadn’t heard his full name in decades. “You are herby under arrest for the senseless sloughter of over 5,907 human souls, the personal torturing of 565 of those souls, the second hand torturing of 1,524 of those souls, targeting the loved ones of 4,438 of those souls after death, as well as the desecration of their gravesites. You are also arrested for an accidental killing of an additional 4,729 souls and then forgetting their names. You are sentenced to over 500,000 years of imprisonment with the inclusion of torture, obsession denial after death, isolation, and stripped of the protection of the zone until your term ends.”

By now everyone was starring as the kid almost seemed to be reading through the list in a bored tone, yet the sheer power that radiated off of him had even the bats on edge. Of course, the Joker ignored the danger signs and just laughed it off as a Joke.

He tried shooting the kid and the bats lunged but were too far away. They needn’t have worried though as the bullet sailed straight through and the only reaction the teen gave was an annoyed eyebrow raise as he continued reading through his list, flipping through a few pages. Ignoring every attempt at harm the Joker tried. And trust me. He tried. Finally the guy finished and asked if the Joker had any questions before his arrest.

This just made the joker laugh harder. “You think you can arrest me?! I’m way above your pay grade kid. If the bats can’t do it, what makes you think you can?”

The teen just gave a tired sigh.

Then it’s like the shadows themselves reach out and grab the Joker, pulling him close until the kid had a firm grip on his collar before they released him.

Despite his situation, he continues to laugh. Saying that it won’t matter. arresting him won’t matter. He’ll just escape any jail he comes across. “That’s the problem with all you vigilante types. Can’t get the job done now can you? And when I gets out, I’ll find you, and I’ll make sure you scream.” His cackles filled the air. But the white haired guy just stares at him. Deadpan.

“I think you’re misunderstanding something.” The figure crouches down so that he’s on Joker’s level. “I’m not taking you to a human prison.”

The clown’s laughter doesn't stop. “Ooooh, trying something new I see? Well what’ll it be? High secure facility for metas? Maybe an alien spacecraft? Ooh! ooh! oooh! And I being held by Leprechauns? Well at least my hair‘ll fit right in!” He continued to cackle.

“I still don’t think you understand.” The figure says. And then suddenly the very air itself cracks. It’s as if the space is being warped and broken apart to reveal a swirling glowing portal that opens right behind the glowing human. Casting his face in shadow, all except those eyes, filled with complete disregard for the one before him.

That unsettling presence just grew 100 fold and everyone present knew they were not looking at something human. Every instinct in them screamed danger. This was a predator, and they were the prey.

“I am not a meta. I am not an alien. And I’m most certainly not a leprechaun.”

He leaned in close until his face was mere inches from the jokers, and the clown could clearly see his fangs.

“I’m the one the dead call to bring in those who break its laws. Those who break the balance, upset the fabrics of reality, cause dimensional rifts. I have hunted demons, gods, immortals, and things your puny brain can’t even imagine. Point is, you’ve made a lot of mistakes in life and the souls of your victims have cried out loud enough that the afterlife is going to do something about it. I’m here to collect.”

The joker gulps, starting to realize his situation. “Are you….are you the grim reaper?”

The teen laughs.

“Nah, I’m worse.” Then he smiled and clapped his hand. “Alright then! Let’s go to Hell!”

“No…no no no no no NO!”

“Yes… yes yes yes yes!” The creature mocked back.

Now Joker starts struggling for real. The boy just grabs him by the collar though and starts dragging him towards the glowing green portal, the cheerful grin still on his face. The clown couldn’t get loose no matter what he tried and started threatening the kid, then threatening his family, when that didn’t work he tried bargaining, willing to get anything, do anything, kill anyone, if the guy let him go. When that didn’t pan out he tried begging for his life.

“Wait! You arrest murderers right?! Then why aren’t you taking Red Hood?!” He points to the area where the bats still were. They hadn’t moved an inch, frozen by Danny’s intense presence. “That guys killed tons of people! In fact, I think he’s died before too but he came back! Isn’t that a ‘crime’?”

The figure froze and all the bats collectively felt their hearts drop. They could feel the power oozing from this guy and even more so from the portal. It took everything Batman had just to speak in its presence. How were they suppose to fight it? If that thing went after Jason…could they stop it? They watched in horror as the humanoid creature gave a gentle hum and pulled out its glowing list again, flipping through more pages before stopping at one.

“Nah, he’s good. Says here his paperwork was filed for him by a….Thomas and Martha Wayne? He’s got a permit.”

The batfamily has so many questions. Unfortunately Joker took the being’s moment of inattention and finally managed to break free from its grip. He made a mad dash for the road, grabbed a car, and drove down the street like his life depended on it, which it kinda did.

The teen just looked so affronted by the action. He sighed again and yelled at the speeding car “You’re just making this harder on yourself!” But the car didn’t stop. The figure looked at the bats as if saying, ‘can you believe that guy?’ When the bats didn’t give a response the teen just rolled his eyes. Then he put two fingers in his mouth and gave a loud whistle. Not 10 second later, another being rose up from the ground and revealed itself to be a gigantic dog about the size of a tank, with razor sharp teeth and glowing red eyes.

“Cujo. Fetch.”

Danny has to work off his Sentence

So! Danny isn't the King of the Infinite Realms. And he is not above the Law.

Sure, he has many friends in high places, and he did defeat the King in single combat, but that doesn't mean he is above the Law in the way The King would be.

And unfortunately for him, Walkers Laws do actually have some backing.

Not all of them. Some are just laws he placed over his Lair and surrounding Territory, which he is really nitpicky about, but the Big ones he touts are the Laws of the entire Zone set by the First King. Don't Tresspass on Lairs without an official challenge, don't End a Realms Being without permission, Don't bring Humans into the Zone without permission, etc.

And Danny has broken quite a few of them, meaning Walker is entirely in his rights to put him away for a few Thousand Years. Thankfully, there is an alternative.

Since Danny wasn't wanted for any major crimes, Walker offered a different path for him. Danny was still one of the Strongest Ghosts in the Zone, and as the Portal was technically his Grave he had full authority to use it however he liked, so if he ran a couple of errands for Walker, he could consider his Sentence served.

All he has to do was round up a few of the Trouble Makers that had escaped his grasp by virtue of being in the Living Realm, and he would forgive his previous crimes.

So, Danny took him up on the offer. It was better than being constantly hounded by Walkers Guards. The fact that he could beat them easily was moot, it was extremely annoying and he wanted it to stop.

So he was given his First list of targets, and went on his way.

Ra's "The Demons Head" Al Ghul, for Tresspassing on Ghost Zone Waste Dumping Grounds

Solomon Grundy, for continued use of copyrighted poem, requested by copyright holder post mortem

Vandal Savage, for failure to notify the proper authorities about his absence on the day of his intended death

Jack "The Joker" Napier, Special Request by 1000+ Ghosts for purposes of Vengeance, Torture, and general Catharsis.

...interesting list...maybe he should have this through a bit more...

[annoyed-galaxy]

More specific headcanons for my Rook and Lucanis/Spite

My Rook loves wings. He loves the various types of wings of different winged creature from birds to dragons. He likes feathers and scales and wishes he could have his own. He spends time sketching the wing structure of the various crows and ravens around the city during his Crow training. He has tattoos of wings on his arms and face. He had the ashes of his sister carved into his back in the shape of wings.

He just loves wings.

It's part of the reason he was so happy to be taken in by the Crows with the whole wing motif.

So imagine when he meets Lucanis and sees the wings out of this man. As a mage, Antonio clocks it immediately that Lucanis is possessed, can sense the demon. But he can sense the dissonance between demon and host. Something's not completely right.

Later learning that Spite is the one controlling the wings, there's a point in their relationship where Antonio cracks and asks to draw Spite's wings. Both Lucanis and Spite are surprised, but give in anyways (because how could they so no to their adorable boyfriend). So, they go to the meditation room and Lucanis sits on the floor and Spite spreads his wings. Lucanis watches the fish in the aquarium while listening to the quiet sounds of pencil on paper.

Then, cause Antonio is a mage, he reaches out and touches the wings. It's the strangest feeling ever. The wings are both physical and not. He couldn't pluck a phantom feather out if he wanted to, but he can feel the wispiness of the wings between his fingers. Lucanis finds out very quickly that the wings, while in this weird metaphysical state, are still very much connected to his body and he can feel them. Spite can too and it's extremely weird for Spite because that part of him has never been touched before, especially not with as much care and grace as Antonio does.

Antonio is fascinated by the properties of Spite's wings and, while Antonio has never been a smart and technical mage, he still writes down some theories he has about the wings, something to bring up to the smarter mages -- Bellara and Emmrich -- later on.

Of course, there's also a point where Lucanis takes Taash's advice and he and Spite take Antonio out on a fly. It's the best thing ever. Antonio is completely amazed and exhilarated at flying something he's always wanted to do. He's also in the arms of a very handsome man so how can he possibly complain?

There's just something about Lucanis and Spite's wings that fascinate Antonio and he always gets excited seeing them pop out. Spite feels happy, to say the least, that he's appreciated in this way. It's a very different feeling than the time in the Ossurary.

[sailorstarr-chan4]

Do you think Yuki, Zero, and Kaname would ever be down to have a threesome? Like, I know we joke about it all the time, but what do you think their thoughts on it would be?

Yuki would get SUPER FLUSTERED and freak out like "AHHHHHHH NONONONONOOOOOOO ABSOLUTELY NOT!!!!!!" (but her body is...... reacting differently lmao 👀🔥)

Kaname would at first be "absolutely the fuck not" but then he'd realize Yuki's (secret) feelings, want to please her, and then take it as an opportunity to mess with Zero lol

Poor Zero would refuse adamantly, even after Kaname is like "bruh, Yuki and I are completely consenting," but then Yuki would give Zero puppydog eyes and then he'd cave lmao

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Career Day

Tags: teeth rotting fluff, crack, jjk men as dads / fem!reader

An: Your child comes home and says tomorrow is career day at their school. They want to bring you and their daddy to school to show off how cool you two are, but.. their dad doesn’t exactly have the most conventional job.

SATORU • SUGURU • TOJI • SUKUNA

SATORU

“My daddy is the strongest!” Your son explains to a room full of his peers. Satoru is proudly beaming next to him. You note how much they look alike. The white hair, the bright blue eyes. Your son looks like he came straight from Satoru and had nothing to do with you.

But your son, Aoi, definitely had your personality.

“Nuh uh. He can’t be the strongest. Superman’s the strongest!” Another kid protested with an unconvinced frown.

“Well, my daddy is like superman!” Aoi retorts, keeping his headstrong personality like his mama. “Actually, he’s even better than superman!”

“He’s not even wearing a suit!” A different child speaks up. You share a nervous glance with Satoru. He’s enjoying this all too much.

“He doesn’t need a suit to be the strongest, dumbass!” Your sweet boy yells, and you promptly cover his mouth. Satoru is laughing his ass off, making the entire situation worse.

Correction, Aoi trying out his dad’s signature hand signal and saying “domain expansion” made the entire situation so much worse.

“You’re grounded, Aoi. You can’t say those things to other people. It’s rude and hurtful.” You say as you and Satoru walk your young boy home. Aoi lets out a small frustrated groan.

“I’m still getting him ice cream.” Satoru interjects with a proud smile. “My boy tried to cast his first domain at just six-years-old. He deserves a sweet treat.” Two wide smiles look up at you, and you realize you’re outnumbered here. Rolling your eyes, you nudge Satoru.

“I want a girl next.”

SUGURU

Mimiko and Nanako begged Suguru to come to their school’s career day. He was of course hesitant to do so, given that Jujutsu sorcery was still a hidden art in Japan. He didn’t exactly know how to explain his career to a bunch of kids.

He had a plan though. He would just tell the children that he was a preacher at a church. It’s not… completely a lie. He was a leader for.. a type of church.

You and Geto walk into the cozy looking classroom and see a load of other parents there. Your husband grimaced at the thought of having to interact with all these… people.

You give Suguru a reassuring squeeze of the hand. “It’ll be okay. Anything for the girls, right?” You whisper into his ear, making him nod. Anything for the girls.

When it’s finally Mimiko and Nanako’s turn to explain what their daddy does for a living, your small family gathers at the front of the classroom. Plenty of small innocent faces and reassuring smiles fill the room.

“Okay girls, tell us what your parents do for a living.” Their teacher prompts with a warm smile.

“My daddy swallows balls for a living!” Nanako says proudly with a beaming smile.

The kids erupted into laughter while their parents gave you two disgusted looks.

To make matters worse, “He also hates filthy mo-“ Mimiko tries to add on, but Geto quickly covers her mouth with his hand.

After explaining what a vivid imagination your twins have, you go on to explain that Geto is a leader at a church, and well, that doesn’t go over too well either.

“Homeschool?” Geto suggests as the four of you walk home.

“Most definitely.” You agree. Mimiko and Nanako are now educated by you at the home, where they can’t out their dad for swallowing balls.

TOJI

“Mama, make papa come to career day.” Your young son, Megumi, demanded. He had a small little pout on his face, and his arms were firmly crossed over his chest. Behind him, Toji stood, shaking his head at his son’s determination.

He often did this: telling you to make Toji do something because you were the only person who could make Toji do anything. After all these years, mans was still wrapped around your finger.

“Baby, Papa’s job is kinda private.” You explain quietly as you pet Megumi’s soft hair.

The small boy’s look of determination shifted to a look of reserve. Even as a young child, he wasn’t great at showing when his feelings were hurt, but you could always tell.

“Gumi.” You say his name softly, bending over to look at the boy’s flat expression.

You were also the only one who could coax Megumi into showing his real emotions.

Tears welled in his eyes, and his bottom lip started quivering. “I don’t wanna be the only one whose parents didn’t come.”

“Oh baby.” You frown as you pull your son into a hug. You glare upwards at Toji, and his eyes widened slightly. He knew what that look meant. “You’re going to career day.” You say to him, leaving no room for argument.

The next day,

“Okay Mr. Fushiguro, what do you do for a living?” The teacher asks Toji as he’s sat next to Megumi. Your son is actually smiling, enjoying the fact that Toji actually came to career day.

“People pay me a large sum of money, and I take care of someone for them.” Toji explains vaguely.

“Oh! Like a doctor?” One of the kids asked with an impressed smile.

“Sure, like a doctor.” Your husband lies, knowing that he does quite the opposite of what a doctor does.

SUKUNA

The look on the kids faces as your tall, muscular, tatted husband walked into the classroom was hilarious. Most of them were completely mortified, giving Sukuna frightened stares.

Your husband was completely unfazed. If anything, he was soaking in the kids’ fear. He sat at the front of the room with a look of arrogance.

Your nephew, Yuji, sat between you two. No, he was technically not your kid, but he didn’t have anyone else to bring to career day. So, Unc Sukuna and Auntie Yn were to the rescue.

“And.. what do you do for work, sir?” The teacher asked in almost a judgmental tone as she eyed Sukuna. You couldn’t tell if she despised him or wanted to fuck him.

“I don’t work. I live off tithe.” Sukuna bluntly answered with a shrug. His lopsided smile never left his face.

“What’s a tithe?” A small child asked quietly.

“It means people pay me out of fear of that I’ll harm them if they don’t.” Your husband gives a child a sharp stare with a challenging smile. He wanted the kids to keep asking questions. The thought of scaring multiple children all at once fueled him.

“Like… beat them up?” Another child asked.

“Like eating their snot-nosed children.” Sukuna answered with a toothy grin. The children all shrieked and cried in terror. Hell, even their parents looked frightened.

“Ryomen.” You chide as you look over towards your husband. He was laughing maniacally, even slapping his knee like the old man he was.

Yuji never invited you two to another career day.

[kamitv]

Suguru walking in on you pleasing yourself would probably go something like…

“Well, shit. Didn’t know I had such a slut for a wife,” He’d comment mere seconds after walking in on you.

You’d be laying on your stomach, back arched, knees bent, legs spread, and a hand in between your legs as you fuck a rather lengthy dildo into your sloppy cunt. Your husband, who you weren’t expecting to be home so soon, seems anything but surprised to catch you like this.

If anything, Geto barely tilts his head as he approaches the bed and then cracks a smirk, “Look at this pussy… fuuck, she’s drippin’ all over the place. All because of some stupid toy?” As he makes his comments, he’s unbuckling his belt and tossing it to the side.

“Suguu… S’not ‘cause of the toy,” You huff out with a pout, shamelessly staring at your husband as you continue pleasing yourself. “I missed you.”

“Yeah? Y’Missed me baby?” He’d tease, not even bothering to take his shirt off as he can’t help but reach forward and swat your hand away from the toy stuffed inches inside your cunt. He’d purposefully drag the item out of you, listening to that filthy squelch before brining it to his mouth and licking your taste off. “Mmh. Couldn’t even wait f’me, huh? Were you missin’ me or my cock, princess?”

You let out a heavy sigh and wiggle your hips back a bit, begging for him to give you something-, anything, “Both Suguru.”

“Needy ass girl,” He’d scoff in response.

He’s actually rather kind when he catches you pleasing yourself. Which is how and why you ended up with his cock inside you not too long after he’s come home.

Geto doesn’t really like knowing you were getting off without him but at the same time, something about coming home to you whining his name as you imagined he was fucking you instead of some toy kinda turned him on. He wondered how often you did this kinda thing.

And so he decides to ask you while he’s stuffing your cunt full of his thick cock, “You fantasize about me often, baby?” He hushes out to you, staring so deep into your eyes that it makes you feel embarrassed all over. His tone is so soft and loving with you too that it just makes you shudder beneath him as if he’s not fucking you at such a merciless pace right mow.

All you can do is nod as your jaw hangs open, “Uhuh… mmgh, I-, hah, think about you a-ah, all the t-time, Sugu.” Your words come out in between moans but that only fuels his arousal.

The way his lips curve into that knowing little smirk has your nails scraping against his back before he lets out a low hiss. “Fuck. You imagine my cock’s inside you when m’not even here?” Geto asks rhetorically before shifting his hips and hitting that one mushy spot inside you, “You replay our moments together, huh? Maybe we should record it one time so you have somethin’ better to get off to.”

Your legs squeeze around his waist and he notices your back arching up off of the bed. Geto thrusts in harder and faster, eager to watch your face twist up the same way it was moments ago before he’d caught you— he’d never let you feel that euphoric sensation more with some toy instead of his cock. Not that he’s jealous, of course…

“S-Sugu,” You choke out with how rough his hips grow against yours.

His head tips down into the crook of your neck and you can feel his fat cockhead knocking deeper and deeper into your sopping walls as his strokes become more calculated-, passionate almost. “Mhm, I know baby, I know,” He coos against your skin, his breath hot and tone almost hoarse, “M’right here,” God, his gentleness was a complete contrast to those mean hips of his.

Even the way his hands traced along your arms in search of your hand to grab had you so utterly weak.

“Y’missed this right?” Geto whispers hotly as he shifts his lips up to the crown of your ear, “Missed how I treat this pussy, huh?”

Your neck arches as you toss your head back and you feel his fingers squeeze onto one of your hands whilst he presses it down into the mattress. Moaning quiet little babbles in agreement to his soft-spoken yet lewd words, your cunt gushes around his aching cock, almost invitingly encouraging him to continue talking like that.

And who is he to ignore such encouragement? Pressing against your ear again, he starts fucking you a little slower but noticeably harder, “Agh… Missed you too, pretty girl. Hah, missed how she,” He emphasizes that word with a heavier thrust, “Takes me so fuckin’ well-, shit.”

Then he moans into your ear and you think you cum at the sound alone. So clear and provocative, echoing in your ear and making your mind go blissfully blank. “Ha-ah… ngh, Suguru, I… mmh..” You moan as his cock splits you open so deliciously.

Hell, that’s all you could do. Geto weighs his body down against you, pinning you to the mattress completely as he drags his cock almost all the way out of your twitching pussy just to give you a seconds rest. Not that it really helped as he slipped his dick right back into you, his jaw dropping and a filthy moan leaving his wet lips at the way your cunt feels so utterly soaked and warm wrapped around his cock.

Geto swears he could fuck you like this for hours and hours and hours but he’s too eager to see other things.

“Gonna have t’show me how you fuck yourself one of these days, love.” He huffs out breathlessly between thrusts.

You quickly start shaking your head at that—lost between reaching your high and processing his words, “N-No…”

“No? Oh c’mon,” He puts on this pout to mock you, “You don’t wanna show me? We’re married… I’ve shown you how I touch myself when you’re not around, why can’t you do the same, hm?”

“S’embarrassing…” You mumble with your lower lip poking out so deliciously that it makes your husband smirk.

“Aw, it’s embarrassing?” He teases, “Baby, I like it when you’re embarrassed. Plus, you looked so fuckin’ cute tryin’ to fuck yourself without me. Could’ barely take that piece of plastic ‘nd it’s smaller than my cock.”

“Sugu-“

“M’just sayin’…” He shrugs, “I want you to put on a lil’ show f’me. You can do that can’t you?” You’re shaking your head all over again and he frowns, “No? But baby,” His body presses down against you as if to emphasize his words and you could feel his tip pressing into your sweet spot, “C’mon, don’t make me beg for it.”

“I-I…” You’re left stuttering and moaning as your eyes travel to the back of your skull, “Ah, Suguru-, mgh…”

“Or would you rather me demand it, huh? Should I tell you you’re gonna show me what you were doin’ with that toy before I got here?” Geto pants into your ear, his lips brushing against your warm skin as you nod frantically in response. “Yeahhh? Alright then, gimme one more ‘nd then you’ll put on a lil’ show for me, ‘kay?”

[alexiroflife]

"you can smile?!"

crack, fluff, yuji & megumi <3

kento nanami x reader

Synopsis: you're a no-nonsense woman with a thick, rigid exterior... of course, until your husband shows up

to sum it up: yuji can't comprehend the shift in your aura when nanami comes around

WC: 931

Warning(s): none

"(Y/n) sensei sure is scary, huh?"

Itadori cups a hand over his mouth to whisper to Megumi, watching wearily as you stand afar with your hands on your hips and phone to your ear, surveying your surroundings coldly for the mission you have been sent to supervise with the boys.

"You think so?" Megumi asks tiredly, following Yuji's gaze.

"Duh! I mean, look at her!" the pink-haired vessel hisses. "She's always so serious."

Just then you throw a piercing glare their way over your shoulder, thoroughly irritated by Gojo's voice yapping nonsense to you over the phone as he explains that Yaga has sent another colleague en route to your location.

Yuji shivers, horrified that your glare is directed toward him and Fushiguro when in reality you are staring harshly in no particular direction. Something Gojo says on the call makes you suddenly twitch with anger, and you're barking nonsense into the speaker furiously as the strongest sorcerer chuckles in amusement on the other end before hanging up.

Megumi sweatdrops. "In her defense, anyone would react like that talking to that idiot."

"No, but she's on another level. It always feels like she's two seconds away from snapping!"

You tuck your phone into your pocket with a harsh sigh and pinched brows, making your way back over to the boys with that everpresent sternness in your mannerisms. Yuji pulls away from Megumi, straightening his hands at his sides. "Alright you two, sit tight," you speak firmly. "Another sorcerer is on their way."

"Yes ma'am!" Yuji straightens himself and solutes, Megumi rolling his eyes.

"Why do we need another sorcerer here?" the spiky haired teen asks.

"There may have been a miscalculation of the overall case's severity. They're sending someone else for backup to handle a different task in the same location while we focus on ours," you explain stiffly, tense eyes scattering over the seemingly empty high school for any further strange activity.

"Oh. Who's coming, then?"

As soon as the question leaves Itadori's mouth, you see your blonde-haired, well-dressed spouse step into view from afar. The three of you look over, finding Nanami swiftly approaching.

"Oh, hey! It's Nanami!" Yuji stretches out his arm to wave. "NANAMI! OVER HERE!"

"Stop yelling," Megumi scolds.

Kento shakes his head when he arrives, stepping close to your side. "I could already see you when I was walking over, Itadori," he says stiffly.

Itadori huffs, imagining that this mission will be twice as stressful now that the world's most formal sorcerer is accompanying you, the human embodiment of sincere grit, but when he looks back up at you, the tightness in your face has completely melted away when you look over at your husband.

The said man turns to you, hand meeting your lower back gently as he leans in to kiss your cheek softly. "Hello, sweetheart," he greets affectionately, and you... smile?? Your eyes soften and your cheeks warm, mannerisms completely shifting into those of a love-stricken schoolgirl under Nanami's gaze, making you look almost unrecognizable.

"Hi, honey," you say sweetly, the usual surliness in your intimidating tone nowhere to be found. Nanami's lips curl up slightly, a gentle smile gracing his face.

Yuji's jaw hits the floor and Megumi scrunches his nose in confusion, watching the two of you gaze at each other.

"WH-" Yuji stammers, pointing an accusing finger at you. "WHAT WAS THAT?"

You turn to look at the boy and sigh, hand connecting with your hip again as you raise a brow, normal demeanor slightly returning. "What are you talking about, Yuji?"

"Just then! You- You looked happy!" he shouts. "And you can smile?! NANAMI, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HER?!"

"Shut up, Itadori," Megum warns again harshly, and you snort.

"Do I not look like a person who can feel joy?"

The boy's eyes dart between you, Nanami's hand still resting on your back as the two of you stare at him with blank faces, the brief intimacy of your shared moment having vanished.

Megumi butts in as Itadori's brain fries itself attempting to understand what he's looking at. "I don't think you want him to answer that question."

"I wasn't aware that you've never seen (Y/n) and I greet each other," Nanami says curtly.

"I mean- no I haven't?!" Yuji exclaims. "I knew you were married, but I just figured you two showed affection by shaking hands!"

"Don't be ridiculous. Just because we take our jobs seriously doesn't mean we're robots," Kento says, in fact, very robotically.

Yuji grips his hair in torment, his shock rendering him speechless and unsure of how to process the situation.

You roll your eyes, turning over your shoulder to walk in the direction of the school's entrance. "Come on, you two. Enough dawdling, we have work to do," you direct sternly.

Your blonde partner follows close beside you, guiding you by your waist and looking down at you to say something the boys can't hear while you walk ahead. Your shoulders jump with a soft giggle, a sound completely foreign to the first years' ears. Yuji reels.

"Hurry up, you two!" you call out, tone once again, firm.

Itadori stands still with his back slumped and his brain scrambled, staring ahead quizzically. Megumi glances at him and scoffs an amused breath, slapping his hand on his back and walking forward. "Let's go."

Itadori jerks and looks up, baffled. "Huh? Megumi, don't tell me you think this is normal!"

"It's fine, you'll get over it."

"But I can't! I feel like the world's been thrown off balance!"

"You're so dramatic."

[rambles-about-minecraft-ocs]

theres something so funny to me when hermits are talking about redstone and theyre like "and then theres an etho hopper clock here-"

like. of course they use etho hopper clocks, itd be weirder if they actively avoided using it, considering its like. a redstone thingy that is very useful and still works even after all this time, and from what i understand it was like. a pretty big deal in terms of useful things you could do with redstone back when he first made it because it opened up ways to do even more things with redstone

and like for the most part theyve probably been referring to that particular thing as an etho hopper clock for longer than theyve even known etho personally, considering the etho hopper clock predates his joining hermitcraft by at least 1-2 years, and several of the other hermits joining hermitcraft by even more. so of course they still call it that

on a related note, most of them likely had at least heard of etho before meeting him, even if they didnt personally watch him (tho i know some did) since he was an old school minecraft youtuber. like his original season 1 of "lets play minecraft" started when minecraft was so new it hadnt been officially released yet. literally back in minecraft alpha. he was a minecraft youtuber OG

so with those two points taken into consideration it completely makes sense that "etho hopper clock" is something ingrained into the terminology of anyone that does stuff with redstone somewhat regularly. theres no reason it wouldnt be

but when you put it into contrast with like. their actual interactions with etho. it kind of cracks me up???

its like. in my head the vibes are this: imagine building something and being like "okay guys, for this machine we need to use an archimedes screw, which is named of course after its inventor archimedes, a man so genius that to this day he is regarded as one of the most brilliant inventors and mathematicians to ever walk this earth" and then like thirty minutes later you go to a restaurant and you see archimedes, of classic antiquity fame, trying to eat a sandwich but the ingredients keep falling out in increasingly comedic manners. so you of course call him pathetic to his face, and then ask if he wants to try out your new totally-not-a-scam product that you carry on you at all times for opportunities like these. and for some reason he doesnt just say yes, but buys two

[chuluoyi]

i love your comedy and fluff! but my masochistic heart is itching for more angst to fluff for gojo🥲 and i have this brainrot ever since i read "baby", "protect" and "wife": childbirth gone wrong, that's why he is sooo concerned about your wellbeing during your maternity leave~

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 09:45 P.M 」

tw: childbirth. there are two very same ask for this now and so that's the cue for me to practice my crack/angst more :3 okay this is basically an extended version of protect's epilogue and oh, it's a happy ending! mini sequel -> 11.10 p.m

a part of gojo's love entries

“you’re always doing whatever you want! ow!”

“deep breaths, sweets. deep brea—”

“easy for you to say! you don't contribute anything other than shoving that damn stick into me! and now i’m left with the consequences!”

“i kindly remind you that you very much enjoyed my stick that night—”

“i hate you!”

satoru looked at your tear-streaked face and patted you in the head—his notable love language, erupting into laughter. “of course you do.”

lying on the hospital bed, tears welled up in your eyes as you roasted your husband and your contractions kept getting closer together. three hours after you woke up to your labor pains, all you could feel was that you were ready to burst.

gripping his hand tight, you purposefully dig your nails in just to spite him. “i’m serious. i hate you. you’re not putting me up for this again!”

“you say that now, but the moment we are home, those words are going to be null and void,” satoru snorted in an attempt to lighten the mood, ignoring the slight pain you inflicted on him, because what was this compared to what you were going through?

but his facade dropped as soon as breath was knocked out of you and you whimpered. he instantly gathered you in his arms.

“hey, hey... take deep breaths...” when you did, he planted a tender kiss on your damp forehead. “that's it, there you go... the baby's going to be here real soon, okay?”

you panted, limp in his hold as dull pain overwhelmed you. “yeah... your baby.”

“our baby, love. not just mine,” he corrected, smiling. he had one hand on your swollen belly, palming the subtle firmness, and gently rubbing it. “our munchkin.”

“i’m just the container though.”

“heh, no,” he chuckled softly. “you're everything.” his eyes crinkled affectionately, a hint of laughter still in his voice, and your heart actually melted when he whispered: “my everything.”

truthfully, despite your bravado, you were scared shitless. yet, as you nestled your head against your husband's strong chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his reassuring heartbeat, and when you gazed into his eyes, you were sure, because he exuded confidence as if he had no doubts that this was going to go perfectly fine.

and so holding onto him you did. he held your hand through it all, talked you through your pain, and you were so, so grateful to have him by your side.

the next hour was a blur, as excruciating pain blinded your senses. you were wailing when everyone told you to push, and you gave it your all. you kept it up even as you felt like being torn apart.

and before you knew it, cries unlike any other, ones you had only imagined until that moment, echoed through the room.

“he's here!” satoru's hitched voice reached your ears, and you went slack, falling back to the sheets.

you were completely spent and all you could register was that the cherished baby both you and satoru had been waiting for was here. you shivered, your mind tuning in and out—lightheaded, wondering why you felt so drenched down there.

“holy shit! i can't believe it! i can’t—” if you were awake enough, you would realize that it was one of the rarest times when satoru was choked with emotions. he turned to you. “i—”

and suddenly you felt strange. an eerie chill seemed to engulf your entire being. your hand slipped from satoru's grasp as your vision dimmed, the world growing darker.

“are you okay? hey—” his voice sounded distant, and you struggled to keep your eyes open. satoru finally realized that something was wrong, as his six eyes discerned the rapid dwindling of your cursed energy, and the room reeked of the tangy scent of blood.

you barely made out the nurse's shouting next. “blood pressure is dropping!”

"come on!" now he was utterly panicked and tried to get a hold of you, shaking you slightly. “hey, stay awake—look at me, i’m right here, please—”

but to his horror, your head lolled back as you lost your consciousness. soon, he was thrown out of the delivery room. just like that, in one sick twist, his world was crumbling down hard and fast.

a sense of helplessness washed over him as he stood outside the room, barred from being by your side. inside, you were bleeding out, and he was unable to do anything but wait.

didn't he say he would protect you with everything he had? once again, gojo satoru was humbled—not everything was in his grasp. he couldn't save those chosen by fate not to be saved.

suddenly, it felt like suguru all over again, except the stakes were higher. he shuddered—his fist clenched so hard that it drew blood, while his other hand clutched his chest, desperately willing the searing pain away.

would he really lose you this way? the sheer thought made his ears ring. no fucking way. even hell knows he'd go berserk. would fate really let him decimate anything in his path? surely, no... right?

he was unaware that he had been murmuring these silent prayers when the doors slid open, revealing the doctor who had been assisting with your delivery earlier with the news. it was a case of a postpartum hemorrhage, she said, an unfortunate incident.

all things considered, you were going to be okay. that knowledge alone was enough to make him breathe freely once more.

when he was allowed to see you, the moment your eyes blinked open, the first thing he did was burying his head in the crook of your neck.

and there you have it—the first time you had ever seen him really shaken to the point of shedding tears.

“you scared me,” he rasped, voice thick with emotion. “i—i can't stop thinking— if you really left me—”

“i’m fine now...” you were somewhat wonderstruck by the knowledge that you had this potent hold over him. oblivious to how your soft voice calmed the depths of his soul, you stroked his hair, and he breathed in your scent, grateful to every force imaginable for returning you back to him.

“sleep,” he gently pulled away, his eyes rimmed with red, his fingers caressing your cheek. “you need it. i’ll be here when you wake up, i promise.”

“the baby—”

“they just cleaned him up. he's resting too,” satoru reassured with an impossibly tender smile, and his next words made your heart lurch.

“my strong girl, you did it. you're a mother now… thank you. thank you... for making me the father to our child.”

you felt like you might burst into tears. you felt so loved, so secure, even after you went through the most challenging ordeal in your life. and as you drifted to your rest, you could hear the love of your life whisper in your ear ever so lovingly—

“i know i have said it before, but i’ll say it again. with everything it is that i have, i swear to you, nothing will befall you and our baby, for i will spare nothing and give everything for both of you... even my own life.”

[theonottsbxtch]

I LOVED YOU FIRST | FC43

an: guys i’m so sorry for the atrocities i’m about to cause by posting this, i’m especially tagging @obxstiles to make sure they don’t miss it and that they cry muahaha there MAY be a part two to this

summary: for as long as she’s remembered she’s loved franco, wether those feelings were ever reciprocated she doesn’t know.

wc: 4.4k

She remembered the sound of wheels against gravel. Even as a kid, Franco was fast—kicking up dust and stones as he went, all edges and adrenaline. They grew up on the same street, a road that was more dust than pavement, cutting through a small town nobody had ever heard of, deep in the countryside of Argentina. Back then, he raced down that road on a beat-up go-kart that rattled and threatened to fall apart with every turn. But he didn’t care. Even at eight years old, Franco could talk of nothing but cars and speed and the shimmering, impossible promise of a life far from here.

She was the one who stood at the end of the road, cheering him on as he came barreling toward her, heart in her throat every time he cut it too close. She told herself that’s just what friends did—waited around to see the other one make it back in one piece. But there was more to it, even then. She’d never told him, of course. Franco had always been too focused on the next race, the next finish line, to notice much about her that wasn’t familiar. It was easier that way. They were friends. That was enough.

Years passed, and with them, his childhood kart became a racing simulator, then an actual car, then a series of wins that only proved what she’d always known—that Franco was going somewhere.

Last year, his parents sold their house so he could go further, could reach another level she couldn’t quite see. He moved in with her and her family when he wasn’t racing, and for a few months, it was as if they were kids again, laughing late at night, plotting his future as he spilled out every dream he’d ever had. That was the year she started imagining he might finally see her the way she saw him.

But he didn’t.

Instead, Franco saw everything she wasn’t: the girl from another world, polished and magnetic, with a face and laugh that gleamed like the trophies he’d already started to collect. She caught him, snared him in a way that didn’t even seem real.

It was this girl—her name slipped off his tongue so easily when he let it—who went to the big events with him, who stood beside him when photographers crowded around after his races, a reminder that he’d already begun to belong somewhere else. She wanted to hate her, this stranger who was everything she wasn’t, but what good would it do?

It was easy to tell herself she was Franco’s friend. His best friend. The one who’d been there since the beginning, the one who stayed up with him on those late nights when all his dreams felt heavy enough to drown him. She’d learned to wear it like armour—the friend, the constant, the steady hand on his shoulder when his voice cracked and his confidence faltered.

No one else knew the small things about him, the things that made him human. Like how he had a superstition about not putting on his helmet until the very last second before a race. Or that his favorite thing in the world was the sound of tires on wet pavement, a soft hiss of rain and speed. Or that he used to dream of buying back the house his parents sold and giving them something better.

The nights she couldn’t sleep, she’d replay those memories to herself, like scenes from a film she’d seen too many times. They were pieces of a person she’d built up in her mind so completely, so painstakingly, that she sometimes forgot he wasn’t hers. Not really.

Now, Franco was leaving again, but this time it was different. The call had come last night, and she’d been there when he answered it, watching the way his face shifted, lit up with something she hadn’t seen since they were kids. He’d been invited to join a Formula 1 team—a chance to race against the best, a dream finally realised.

And she’d been the first person he told. “I’m in,” Franco had whispered to her after he hung up, his voice hoarse with disbelief. “I’m actually in.”

He’d pulled her into a hug, and for a fleeting moment, she let herself believe this moment was for her too—that she was a part of the dream. But when he finally let go, she could already feel him slipping away, his mind racing miles ahead, far beyond anything she could reach.

And now here they were, standing on the same dusty road they’d grown up on, only this time the road was empty. She could almost see his silhouette against the horizon, an outline that belonged to no one, not even her.

“So… this is it, huh?” she murmured, trying to keep her voice steady, her hands stuffed deep into her jacket pockets. She knew this was her job now: to be strong, supportive, even as she felt her chest tightening with everything she’d left unsaid.

Franco glanced over at her and smiled, that careless, easy grin she’d fallen in love with a thousand times. “Yeah. This is it.”

There was a part of her that wanted to say something, to tell him what it felt like to lose him, to have spent all these years beside him only to watch him walk away. But she didn’t, couldn’t. Because he needed her to be his friend, his rock. And that’s exactly what she would be, until the moment he disappeared from sight.

“You’ll be amazing out there,” she said softly, swallowing hard against the ache in her throat.

“Thanks,” Franco replied, his gaze drifting to the horizon, to whatever was waiting for him. He didn’t see her watching him, didn’t notice the way she tried to memorise every detail of his face, the way she gripped the fabric of her jacket so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Because that’s what she was: the person who stayed behind, the person who would cheer for him no matter how far he went, even if it took him far beyond her reach.

His first race was in Monza.

And Franco had made sure she’d be there.

The roar of engines echoed across Monza, the air thick with the metallic scent of fuel and adrenaline. She stood just outside the paddock, watching the mechanics scurry between cars, drivers in their fireproof suits weaving through a sea of engineers and cameras. It was Franco’s first Formula 1 race, the one he’d been chasing since the days they’d spent on that dusty street back home. He’d called her a week ago, saying he’d arranged for her ticket, that she had to be there, that it wouldn’t feel right without her.

She glanced down at her pass, fumbling with it between her fingers, her eyes darting over the crowds, wondering if she’d see him. But instead, she saw her—Franco’s girlfriend, standing just a few paces away, a beacon in the busy paddock with her polished, perfect smile.

She thought about turning around, slipping into the crowd where she could cheer Franco on from a distance, as she’d always done. But then Franco’s girlfriend caught her eye, waved her over with an easy, welcoming smile, and suddenly it was too late.

“Hi! You’re Franco’s best friend, no?” she said brightly, as if she’d been waiting for this meeting. “Franco’s told me all about you.”

She managed a smile, trying not to let her surprise show. “Nice to meet you,” she replied, her voice steady but her heart churning. This girl looked so effortlessly perfect—too perfect, really. She wanted to find something in her to resent, a crack, a flaw, some hint that would make her presence easier to bear. But the girl’s smile was warm, even gentle, and there wasn’t a hint of cruelty behind her eyes.

“You know,” she continued, turning to look at the track where the cars were being readied. “Franco always talks about how you’ve been there from the start. He says he wouldn’t be here without you.”

It was a sentiment she’d waited years to hear, but hearing it now, coming from someone else, made it feel empty, hollow. She nodded politely. “He’s worked so hard for this. I just… wanted to support him however I could.”

The girl looked at her, a spark of admiration in her eyes. “That’s really special. I think it means a lot to him, having someone who’s known him for so long.” She hesitated, her fingers twisting a ring on her hand. “I think he’s planning to introduce me to his family soon.”

A prickle of something sharp and painful settled in her chest. She managed to keep her face composed, even as the words sank in. “That’s great,” she said, injecting her voice with encouragement. “That sounds really important to him.”

The girl smiled, her gaze drifting as if she could see the future taking shape right in front of her. “Yeah… he said he wanted to wait until we’d been together for a year. He’s so thoughtful like that, you know? He really wants things to be right before introducing me to his family.” She looked at her, a touch of gratitude in her expression. “I think he got that from you—from seeing how much his family means to you.”

It was a kind thing to say, too kind. She wanted to hate her for it, but she couldn’t. There was nothing false about the way this girl looked at her, no jealousy or possessiveness. She was just… nice. The kind of nice that made her ache with the unfairness of it all, because it made it impossible to hate her, even though she desperately wanted to.

“Well, his family will love you,” she said, meaning it even as the words felt like they were tearing something fragile inside her. “He deserves to be happy.”

The girl gave her a soft, almost sympathetic smile, a smile that made her wonder if maybe she already knew—if she could see right through her, if she understood the look in her eyes, the one she tried so hard to hide.

As the engines started up in the distance, the girl reached out and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Thank you,” she said, her voice warm. “For being there for him, for being his friend. I can tell he’s lucky to have you in his life.”

She returned the smile, feeling a heaviness settle deep within her. Franco was lucky, that was true—but not in the way she’d once dreamed he might be. He had everything now: the career, the future, the love of a woman who deserved him in ways she never could.

And as the cars roared to life on the track, she stood there beside his girlfriend, feeling like a silent ghost on the edges of his new world. She would cheer for him, just as she always had, but now she knew exactly where she stood—at a distance, a quiet fixture in his past, cheering him on from the shadows as he sped toward a future that had no place for her.

The race had ended hours ago, and the hotel was hushed, the lights dimmed in the halls. She was alone in her room, her suitcase half-packed, clothes folded neatly on the bed. She’d changed her flight back to Argentina; she would be gone by morning.

The evening had been a whirlwind—Franco finishing in P12 on his debut race, his crew and his girlfriend embracing him, his face beaming in a way she’d only ever dreamed of seeing up close. She’d stood in the background, clapping politely, just another face in the crowd, happy for him but feeling her heart splinter with each cheer.

A quiet knock broke her thoughts. She looked up, heart catching in her throat. Franco was standing in the doorway, his face lit with a warm smile.

“Hey,” he said, stepping inside, his hands in his pockets. “I was hoping you’d still be up.”

“Yeah, just… packing,” she murmured, glancing at the clothes on her bed. “I’ve got an early flight back.”

He frowned, like he hadn’t expected her to be leaving so soon. “I thought you’d stay a bit longer,” he said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. “It meant a lot to me that you were here, you know. I’m not sure I could have done it without you.”

She swallowed, trying to muster up a smile. “I’m proud of you, Fran. Really. You deserve all of this.”

He gave a modest shrug, his usual humility shining through. “It’s crazy, right? Like, it still doesn’t feel real.”

She nodded, unsure of what to say next, her hands clenching as she watched him, the words fighting to break free. But before she could speak, he went on, his face lighting up with excitement.

“Oh—and I wanted to tell you. Over the summer break, I’m planning to bring my girlfriend—” he gestured to the wall, where his girlfriend was probably just sitting in their shared room—“back to Argentina. She’s going to meet my family. I think they’ll love her.”

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. She felt herself unraveling, her heart breaking open. She couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Why her?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Franco blinked, looking at her, startled. “What do you mean?”

“Why her, Franco?” She repeated, her voice trembling, louder this time. “Why not me? What is it about me that you don’t find appealing? Am I too loud? Too… different? Do I not fit into your world somehow?” Her voice cracked, the weight of her words finally spilling out. “What is it about me that you don’t love, that you love about her?”

For a moment, he just stared, taken aback, as if he was seeing her for the first time, really seeing her. But his eyes were filled with confusion, like he was trying to make sense of what she was saying.

“Wait—” he started, his voice halting, uncertain. “I… I didn’t know you felt—”

She cut him off, her voice fierce, raw. “I loved you first, Franco.”

He went silent, the words settling between them like stones in water, sinking deeper and deeper.

“What?” he whispered, his voice almost as quiet as hers had been.

“I loved you first,” she repeated, her voice shaking. She could feel the tears gathering, but she didn’t want to cry, not now, not here. “Since we were kids, since you were that crazy kid racing down dirt roads, I loved you. I’ve been there every step, every race, every victory, every failure. I was the one who held your dreams when they felt too heavy to carry. I loved you first.”

She watched him, waiting, hoping for some sign of understanding, some glimmer of the love she’d imagined so many times. But his eyes were wide with shock, his face torn between pity and discomfort.

He shook his head slowly, the words seeming to catch in his throat before he finally managed to say them. “But… I love her.”

The words were a knife, sharp and relentless, cutting through the last fragments of hope she’d held on to.

She let out a hollow, broken laugh, her vision blurring as she looked away, unable to meet his eyes. “I know,” she whispered. “I know you do.” She took a shaky breath, her voice trembling with a rawness she couldn’t contain. “But it doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

For a moment, they stood there in silence, the weight of years pressing down between them. She could see the guilt etched into his expression, his mouth opening as if he wanted to say something to make it better. But there was nothing he could say—nothing that could change the reality that he had chosen someone else, someone who wasn’t her.

“I never meant to… I didn’t want to hurt you,” he said softly, reaching out as if to comfort her, but she stepped back, her arms wrapping around herself protectively.

“It’s fine,” she said, forcing the words out, feeling them scrape against her throat. “I… I just needed you to know. I needed you to know that I was here, that I’ve always been here. But now…” She trailed off, her voice breaking, the words she’d held for so long finally running dry.

She looked at him one last time, memorising the shape of his face, the boy she had loved and lost long before he ever realised. Then sat back down on the floor and continued packing, folding each piece of clothing and putting it away in silence, each one a silent goodbye.

When she noticed he still hadn’t left, that he was just watching him, she looked up at him. “I hope she makes you happy, Franco,” she whispered, her voice barely a breath. “Really. I hope she gives you everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”

She looked back down not wanting to catch Franco’s look of pity and closed her suitcase as he walked out of her room.

Walking out of her life for what felt like forever.

It was the peak of summer, the air heavy with heat and the scents of wildflowers and sun-baked earth drifting through the open kitchen window. She was sitting at the table, picking absently at a bowl of sliced fruit, half-listening as her mother hummed while tidying up, when her mother paused and gave her a look she couldn’t quite decipher.

“I almost forgot to mention,” her mother said, wiping her hands on a towel, “Franco’s coming back to town soon. Said he’ll be here next week with his girlfriend, so they can meet his family.”

She looked down, letting the words sink in, feeling a familiar tightness bloom in her chest. She hadn’t spoken to Franco in weeks. Not since that night in Monza. Not since she’d finally let herself say all the things she’d bottled up for years, only to walk away feeling like she’d left a part of herself behind.

“Oh,” she murmured, keeping her tone as light as she could. “That’s… that’s good. His parents will be thrilled to meet her.”

Her mother looked at her carefully, her gaze soft but probing, as if she could sense the ache that lingered beneath her daughter’s casual words. “I thought maybe you’d be excited too,” her mother ventured, her voice gentle. “It’s been a long time since you’ve seen him.”

She forced a small smile, looking down at her hands as she fiddled with her napkin. “Actually, I was thinking about going to Buenos Aires for a bit. Just a week or two with Tía Blanca. I’ve been meaning to go see her.”

Her mother tilted her head, her expression somewhere between sympathy and exasperation. “You can’t keep running from this, mi amor,” she said, her voice tender but firm.

Her shoulders tensed, and for a moment, she didn’t know what to say. She knew her mother was right; every time she thought about seeing Franco, the old wound seemed to ache again, still raw, still fresh, no matter how many miles or weeks lay between them. But she wasn’t ready to face him yet. Not when the sight of him with someone else would only reopen everything she’d been trying so hard to let go of.

“I know I can’t keep running,” she said finally, her voice barely a whisper, her fingers twisting the napkin in her lap. “But I can now. And I can cope with that.”

Her mother sighed softly, reaching out to place a warm hand over hers. “Mi amor, one day, you’re going to have to stop protecting yourself from the things that hurt you. It’s the only way to truly move forward.”

She nodded, her throat tight, unable to meet her mother’s eyes. She knew her mother was right. But all she could think of was that moment in Monza, the echo of Franco’s words—But I love her. Words that still stung like salt on an open wound, even now.

“Maybe one day,” she whispered, more to herself than to her mother. But for now, Buenos Aires felt like the safest place to be—far from the memories, far from the impossible hope she still carried in her heart.

Her mother squeezed her hand gently before letting go, her silence filled with understanding. “Then go,” she said, with a small, knowing smile. ��But you’ll know when it’s time to come home.”

And as she sat there, her heart heavy with everything she couldn’t say, she only hoped her mother was right.

A few days later, everything was sorted and she was ready to go to her aunt’s place.

She swung her bag over her shoulder, taking a deep breath as she stepped out of the house, the warm morning sun casting long shadows across the familiar dirt road. She was just two steps away from the car when she spotted it—Franco’s car, parked at the edge of the drive.

Her heart lurched, her mind scrambling, and she muttered under her breath, “No, no, no… please, not now.” She moved quickly toward her own car, fumbling for her keys as if speed alone could make her invisible. But before she could open the door, she heard his voice behind her.

“Oye, there you are!” he called, a wide, relieved smile on his face as he jogged over, his voice bright with the kind of joy she hadn’t heard from him in years. “I was hoping I’d run into you before you left. It’s been too long.”

She barely managed to keep her face neutral, clutching her bag as if it could shield her. “Yeah, well, I’ve got to get on the road. Don’t want to get stuck in traffic,” she said, opening the boot to toss her bag inside. She avoided looking at him, focusing on the small tasks—closing the boot, brushing off her hands, reaching for the door.

He took a step closer, his hand resting on the car door as if to keep her from leaving. “I’ve missed you,” he said, his tone softening. “You… you didn’t answer my calls after Monza. I didn’t know if… I just wanted to see you.”

She swallowed hard, glancing away as she forced herself to stay calm, the last words she wanted to hear sitting heavy between them. “That’s great, Franco,” she said, barely meeting his gaze, her words quick and mechanical. “But I really should get going.”

“Wait—” He looked at her, his expression slipping from surprise to concern. “Can we talk? Please?”

But she was already climbing into the car, her hands gripping the steering wheel as she turned the ignition. She couldn’t bear to stay, couldn’t bear to let him see her break again. “Take care, Franco,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she closed the door.

Before he could say another word, she pulled out, the tires kicking up dust as she drove away. In the rearview mirror, she saw him standing in the drive, watching her go, his face a mix of confusion and something close to sadness. She looked away, swallowing the lump in her throat as she focused on the road ahead.

But the further she drove, the harder it became to ignore the weight of all the memories tied to each familiar street and turn. Every signpost, every curve of the road reminded her of him—their childhood spent racing bikes and kicking up dust, lazy afternoons wandering these streets, dreaming of the future he was now living.

Tears blurred her vision as she drove, the memories rushing in like floodwaters, filling her mind with images she’d tried so hard to push aside: Franco at fourteen, laughing as he beat her in yet another race down the hill; Franco, younger still, sharing a quiet moment in the field just beyond town, his eyes bright with the dreams they’d both carried.

She wiped at her eyes, her heart aching as each memory pulled her further into the past, a past where they’d been inseparable, a past where she hadn’t yet realised what loving him truly meant. She could almost hear his laughter, feel his presence beside her, as if he were still the boy she’d known, before life had pulled them down different paths.

By the time she reached her aunt’s building in Buenos Aires, the weight of the drive had started to lift, the city’s pulse a welcome distraction from the quiet countryside. She parked and took a moment to gather herself, feeling the ache from earlier settle into something softer, something that no longer felt as urgent or raw.

Just as she opened the car door, a familiar voice called out.

“¡Mira! Is that really you?”

She looked up, startled, and felt her heart lift slightly. Standing by the curb was Angelo, an old friend from summers in the city. He had the same easy smile, his hair a little longer, his build a little broader, but his presence felt exactly as she remembered—warm and solid.

“Angelo!” She smiled, the weight on her shoulders easing just a little more.

He walked over, giving her a friendly hug before reaching into the car to help with her bag. “Let me help. You’re here for a visit?”

“Just two weeks,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady as she glanced up at the familiar apartment building, a place that held a lifetime of summers, laughter, and memories untouched by the pain she’d left behind.

“Well, then,” he said, grinning as he hefted her bag easily, “we’ve got time to catch up.” His tone was light, but there was something else in his eyes, a quiet warmth that made her feel unexpectedly hopeful.

She followed him up the steps, comforted by his familiarity and the steady, unhurried way he moved, like he knew every corner of this building as well as she did. As they reached her aunt’s door, she felt her pulse slow, steadied by his presence.

The door opened before they could knock, her aunt’s familiar face breaking into a radiant smile. “There you are, mi niña!” She hugged her tightly, then turned to Angelo with a knowing smile. “And look who brought you all the way to the door! Angelo, you’re a sweetheart.”

He grinned, shrugging. “Anything for your family, señora.”

They all laughed, and for the first time in months, she felt a genuine ease settle over her, as if she’d left more than just a town behind—she’d left the weight of everything she’d been carrying.

As she glanced between her aunt and Angelo, the ache that had gripped her chest all day faded. The streets of Buenos Aires were bright outside the door, warm and humming with life. She breathed it in, feeling herself begin to let go of everything that had haunted her on that long drive.

Because maybe now that she was here, she could forget Franco.

to be continued…?

[heehoonies]

dreaming 'bout you

description: after years of pressing down unspoken feelings, jay is feeling restless. he's insatiable, and for who? his best friend's sister.

word count: 5k

contents: panther hybrid!jay x kitty hybrid!reader, reader as heeseung's younger sister, porn with (little) plot, ONE DUBCON SCENE dni if uncomfy!!, not much hybrid content besides ear, tail, and purring mentions!

smut warnings beneath the cut

now playing: poison by nct dream

smut warnings: dom!jay, sub!reader, first heat sex, dubcon scene (reader is asleep), unprotected sex (don't do this), panty sniffing, panty stealing, masturbation (f and m), praise, degradation, big dick jay, multiple orgasms, bulge kink, cumming inside, pet names, slight cum eating.

the quiet creak of your bedroom door rings in jay's ears, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he slips inside. jay shuts the door behind him gently, his black tail cushioning the sound. his fluffy ears perk up at the sound of your quiet snoring, plush lips parted gently as muffled sounds slip out.

his eyes are trained on your still figure, tracing the curves of your plump thighs, eyes trailing over the dip of your hips, the bare skin exposed by your tiny shorts and equally tiny tank top. your breasts rise and fall gently with each inhale, nipples perking through the thin material barely covering you. jay's cock twitches at the sight, shaking his head lightly as he refocuses his mind on his dirty task at hand.

after all of these years, you still somehow haven’t caught on to jay’s lingering feelings. and after all these years, the ever so patient panther is finally growing impatient. jay, ever the gentleman, feels his restraint slowly dwindling, on the verge of snapping every time he sees you.

jay's rough hands tug your drawer open, the wood squeaking lightly as he pulls the knobs towards his body. the drawer before him reveals a wide collection of intimates, tiny thongs and lacy bikini cut bottoms adorning the container.

“what a naughty girl…” jay mutters to himself as his eyes feast on your plethora of panties, ears perking in tandem with his cock. he searches desperately for a specific pair that rushes a memory into his mind.

you press your hips flush to the island counter, reaching towards your brother for the bag of chips he's just yanked from your hold, before running away from you. 

“heeseung, give it back!” your whines are music to jay's ears as your tiny shorts ride up your body, revealing your ass and giving jay a perfect view of your pale blue panties. the lace cups your plump cheeks perfectly, revealing your plush ass to him, the exposed skin sending heat through jay's body, his tail twitching lightly at the sight. his mouth goes dry as you push even further against the marble countertop, jay nearly catching a glimpse of your perfect little pussy.

you snatch the bag back successfully, returning to your feet and turning around triumphantly, completely oblivious to jay's lustful stare from moments before. you offer him a small smile as he meets your eye, a look in his irises that has you quirking an eyebrow in confusion.

“what?”

“nothing,” jay offers a grin in response, sauntering out of the room with a false sense of relaxation emanating off of him. he rushes to the bathroom once he's out of sight, ready to wrap a rough hand around his aching cock and imagine it's your own soft palm, purring quietly as he jerks himself with a tight grip at the thought of you.

“ah, here we are…  jay's lips crack into a smile, hands grasping at the blue lace buried beneath your other, similarly skimpy pieces. he brings the cloth to his face, pressing his nose against the fabric, inhaling the intoxicating aroma of your pussy. the scent swims around him, sniffing deeply, trying to imprint the smell of you into his brain, press it into his skin permanently.

“hmm?” your groggy voice reaches his restless ears, perking up at the sound of your sleeping form stirring suddenly. he glances over at you, your eyes still fluttered shut as you shift around in bed. “hnng–” you groan, face falling into a frown as your body feels too hot.

jay quickly shoves your panties into his pocket, beginning to back out of your space.

“j-jay?”

jay stops dead in his tracks, tail shutting the drawer quietly. your hand reaches out wildly towards him, eyes opening ever so slightly, body and mind still layers deep in your nasty dream. “jay, please…” your voice sounds oh so pretty begging for him, and jay takes all his strength to push down the desire to ravage your sleeping body.

jay approaches your bed quietly, his hand reaching your head and finding his way between your ears. he scratches between them gently, body screaming from the proximity of the two of you. “shh…” jay soothes, petting the soft fur of your perked, fluffy ears, trying to lull you back to sleep. he smiles down at your figure, gaze raking over your tantalizing body.

jay's voice is soft and gentle as he rubs at your fur, “you're still asleep, y/n…” he lies easily, attempting to hide his lustful secret from you, keeping his voice steady and light to soothe you. “this is all a dream, doll.”

you whine at his words, eyes fluttering shut in pleasure at the feeling of him scratching your ears. “hmm… feels good…”

“yeah? feels good?” jay teases, continuing his ministrations, waiting until you're back asleep to leave with his spoils. his eyes watch you with ease, trailing the lines of your body, mapping out the features of your face like he’s done a million times. jay can never forget your delicate face even if he tried, your face haunts him whenever he closes his eyes, bringing a simultaneous heat to his body and fullness to his balls.

“mhmm, thank you…” you whisper, the lilt of your voice sending his mind spinning.

you're finally slipping back into your restless sleep, head subconsciously leaning towards his fingers. jay indulges you for a little longer, his free hand slipping down to the crotch of your shorts. the rough pad of his fingers meet cloth covering your heat.

your hips twitch forward as you sleep, eyes still gently sitting shut, fluttering the tiniest bit at the contact. jay hides a small grin as he presses harder this time, your body reacting once more, harsher this time, as you moan at the feeling permeating even your sleepy mind. you instinctively chase his hand with your hips and jay chuckles lowly at the action.

jay’s hand slides beneath your shorts, fingers dancing along the fabric of your panties. you whimper when his rugged fingertips run through your folds, hovering over your clit momentarily. jay pulls away when he notices your body squirming more than before. the last thing jay needs is to have you waking up and seeing him like this… he’s a gentleman in your eyes, or so he thinks, and seeing him like this would most likely break your world view.

jay finally retreats his slender digits from your soft fur, groaning silently as he approaches your door. in his hazy mind, jay swears he sees a wet patch sitting in your tiny little shorts as he slinks out of your space, a pocket full of baby blue lace that smells like you.

when jay returns home later after a night of gaming with heeseung, he wraps his rough hands around his cock, stroking himself with the blue lace of your panties, panting wildly at the thought of fucking into the fabric as you wear them. his length would slide deliciously over your wet core, your hips bucking up to chase his warmth, urging for a feel of his tip against your hole, squirming in discontent from his incessant teasing.

jay imagines the whine in your voice as you plead for him to properly fuck you, tail flicking wildly with annoyance and pure desire at his blatant disregard for your needs.

jay would punctuate your brattiness with a particularly slow glide, his tip pressing against your panties once more, ignoring your weeping pussy as more slick drips from it, coating his length in further warmth.

“take what i give you, pretty baby,” jay would command, his tone venomous to combat your urge to push his buttons, unable to exercise any patience. jay wonders if you’d become a whining, needy mess because you’re so horny…

or because you need him.

“need you!” the lilt of your voice coupled with your pretty, well manicured nails digging into his biceps, gripping the toned muscles of his arms to stabilize yourself.

in reality, jay tugs slower on his cock now, feeling himself tumbling closer to a mind blowing orgasm, courtesy of your panties and his vivid imagination. he wonders if your grip on his cock would be gentler, wonders if your small hands would be able to fit around him at all.

and the thought of your size paling in comparison to his own, coupled with the rough drag of the lace along his sensitive length, is what sends jay over the edge, cum spurting up onto his abdomen. most of it catches on the fabric in his grasp, painting white all over your once pristine panties. jay heaves a sigh, slowly jerking himself through his orgasm to the point of near overstimulation.

as jay cleans himself up, he wonders if you’d lick the cum off his body. a thought that he chases off quickly, urging himself not to get hard again at the mere thought of your tongue on his sweaty skin.

a loud whine sounds in the background, followed by a painful sounding screech of a familiar voice. heeseung sighs deeply into his mic as he gets one shotted again, “fucker!” he yells, pushing away from his desk in frustration.

“what’s that noise, dude?” sunghoon questions, weaving his way through the map with practiced ease, listening close for any noises from the opposing team.

“my sister, she’s… going through something right now.” heeseung sighs as he returns to his chair after taking a quick lap around the room to calm himself. “none of you are allowed to come over until she’s better.”

jay quirks an eyebrow as he listens intently for the background noises, heart clenching at the sound of you seemingly in pain, his mind racing as to why you would be screaming out in agony like that.

“sounds like more than ‘going through something’, but okay…” jake muses, sipping loudly on his drink of choice.

sunghoon chuckles deeply as he hits the final kill of the round, clutching the game for them, “careful dude, you’re gonna spill on your keyboard again if you keep drinking soda so close to your pc.” heeseung joins in on the laughter, the duo teasing jake for his mishap that occurred merely a week earlier.

“my mom just asked me to stop by her house, i’ll be back in a bit.” jay announces, quickly logging off before any of them can argue and try to convince him to stay, knowing this might be his only chance.

jay’s cock feels impossibly heavy in his jeans as he drives to heeseung’s house. he parks on a sidestreet, knowing heeseung will be out for blood if he sees jay’s car nearby. with a quick lock, jay pockets his car keys and beelines for heeseung’s house. he slips past the gate into the backyard before finding your window easily. jay slides his hands along the pane, groaning at the muffled sound of your pained whines hitting his ears even when he’s outside. jay’s fingers search around for a spot to grab onto, seconds feeling like hours as his arousal grows senselessly.

a small creak sounds as jay is finally able to slide the window open, thanking every lucky star above that you forgot to lock your window, wondering deep inside his mind if you were subconsciously begging for this. jay steps inside, pushing past the closed curtains, the hanging cloth brushing gently against his tail. jay shuts the window behind him, being sure to switch the lock this time.

he’ll be damned if anyone besides him tries to have their way with you.

you’re so fucked out that you don’t even notice the man sneaking in through your window, not caring who sees you. your clothes are stripped off haphazardly, laying where they may in your space when you ripped them all off in a frenzy. loud whines escape your lips as your fingers fuck inside your hole while thumbing at your clit, your free hand gripping the sheets tightly at the overwhelming feeling of pure need never leaves your body. you feel like you’re on fire as you sit here, begging for another release, to be free from your the all encompassing experience of your first heat.

a louder than expected groan escapes jay’s throat at the sight of you, all sweaty lying on your bed, sheets soaked from fluids and sweat, the pillow beneath you looking like a halo around your crown.

the noise makes you jump, fingers reaching further than before and thumb catching on your clit in a toe curling way, one that spreads shocks through your system. you clench your eyes shut and groan at the feeling of your orgasm washing over you, sparks exploding behind your eyelids, hand loosening on the sheets only for a moment. your tail lies gently atop the bed as your ears twitch wildly with every shockwave that rushes through your body. after eons of pleasure ripping through you, open your eyes slowly, squinting as you come down from who knows what number orgasm, one of your previously planted feet slipping and dropping your leg to the bed. a figure towers above you and you tilt your head back to look at their face.

“fuck–” jay’s breath hitches. you look gorgeous when you cum, and jay is determined to see you reach your high over and over.

your breath catches in your throat as jay’s sharp face comes into view, your own flushing at the sight of him, ears tweaking in simultaneous interest and continued need, a need that overwhelms all your senses and all remaining rationality left in your brain. in its wake exists a pulsing desire for the man before you, one that’s always stirred within you but you’ve ignore for years, too afraid of the repercussions.

and now said man is presenting himself on a silver platter in your deepest time of need.

a whine escapes at the sight of him as jay presses two fingers to the underside of your chin, pressing your mouth shut. you didn’t realize your jaw had dropped. embarrassment rushes through your senses before you blink at him with wide eyes.

“what? cat got your tongue?”

your mind is already fuzzy as you stare up at him, too overwhelmingly horny to cover yourself or hide from his gaze, the hunger pulling at your insides and pooling in your stomach. you’re simply too dumbstruck by the man in front of you to even form a coherent thought, so you just stare.

“d-don’t tease me…” you whine, eyes wide like saucers as you watch him.

“i won’t tease, baby, don’t worry…” jay grabs your wrist, pushing your fingers deeper into your dripping, messy, oh so sensitive pussy. “you need help, doll?”

jay smirks, chuckling deeply as your face twists in an alluring mix of pain and pleasure, eyes fluttering shut as both sides of the same coin battle for dominance. you nod wildly to answer his previous question, mind reeling as you’re desperate, begging to be touched by him, as your ears and tail’s movements further convey your desire to him.

“j-jay…”

jay kneels on the bed with a wide stance, trapping your lower body between his knees. his arousal is palpable, taking every ounce of self control in his body not to jump your fucking bones right now, knowing that no matter how much you’ve stretched yourself out, he was still going to hurt you. “shhh, pretty, let me help you.”

jay continues guiding your own hand in and out of your sopping pussy, hungry eyes devouring your body with ease. jay takes in every curve and dip, pretty nipples atop perky breasts, to gorgeous hips that lead to your greedy cunt that’s taking every inch of your own fingers with ease. you claw at the sheets, everything feeling like too much yet not ever enough to quench the undeniable thirst that’s rushing through you, flooding your system and sending your head into the clouds. jay’s free hand slides up, pressing over your stomach before palming your entire tit in his hand, gripping tightly, sucking in a sharp breath at the sound that squeaks out of your mouth followed by a louder yell.

jay’s view returns to the sight of your slick coated fingers, watching with his cock strain further against his jeans as they slip so easily in and out of your hole, sliding past your plush folds with each yank. it’s not enough, even with jay guiding your hand, and you grab his wrist with your free hand, frustration washing over you. the aroma of honey and raspberries drips from you, alluring and warm as it presses against his brain, curving through his subconscious as it quickly becomes his favorite smell in the world.

“jay, please…” you beg, voice whiny, the tone making jay grow even harder, balls feeling heavier as he watches you. “please, need you…”

jay smiles, pulling your fingers out fully before taking both wrists in one hand and pinning them above your head. he leans over you, mouth ghosting over yours, tantalizing in his actions, lust dripping from every pore of his body, before bringing your hands above you. you watch as he takes the fingers that were just inside your heat and captures them in his mouth. a moan rips through you as you watch him, tearing up from the frustration of not being touched right now. your body is burning, every touch from jay setting you further ablaze, uncomfortable and inescapable warmth crowding you from all sides. your hips buck wildly, chasing his length, aching for some relief for your needy hole.

“fuck–” jay groans lowly when he slowly slips your fingers out of his mouth, watching as a string of saliva drips between them. “you sound prettier than i imagined…” your pussy clenches around nothing as jay speaks, more slick gushing out and staining the sheets beneath you.

“god, you’re so fucking sexy–” jay groans as his free hand begins unbuckling his belt, tossing it aside easily before ridding himself of his bottoms. you watch, mouth watering at the sight of his cock sitting against his abdomen, standing proudly against his toned stomach. the girth of him makes you whimper before jay’s hand comes up and presses against the side of your mouth. jay gathers the spit that’s drooling down your chin on his digits and forces them into your mouth, “you’re already drooling like a cock drunk little kitty and i haven’t even put it in yet– what a nasty little girl you are…” he degrades, “gonna let me fuck you, baby? need me that bad?”

you nod wildly, fingers still diligently suckling on his fingers as he shifts his hips.

“ah!–” you whine loudly, walls fluttering as jay presses his tip against your aching hole.

jay’s head is spinning as he feels the warmth of you on his mushroom tip, any restraint he had left leaving his body in an instant as he bullies his cock inside your pussy, pressing balls deep with one thrust. jay’s eyes roll into the back of his head at the feeling of you surrounding him completely, so wet and warm and tight, impossibly tight, tighter than any fist or pocket pussy that he’s fucked to the thought of you, tighter than he ever imagined was even possible.

“fuck, baby,” jay growls, panting and breathless as he sets a back breaking pace, “even with your pretty little fingers stretching your tiny pussy open, you’re still tight as fuck around me–” he throws his head back as the fluttering of your cunt greets him with each slide.

his hand slips from your mouth, cupping your cheek for a moment as he whispers, “so fucking pretty… all of you is so pretty for me.”

“jay jay jay–” his name slips from your lips over and over like a prayer, his cock erasing every other thought in your brain with each thrust. “‘s too big!” you whine, trying to free your hands from his grip to claw at his meaty, delicious biceps. everything about him is inviting –no, intoxicating– as he fucks you senseless, thoughts being brushed away easily and replaced with only him. his cock, his hands, the deep timbre of his voice, the way he degrades you– everything about jay is overwhelming you, and the realization of it all sends you easily tumbling over the edge, eyes fluttering as you clench around him impossibly tight, cum rushing out around jay’s thick length.

“you look so pretty, cumming from just my cock like that…” he’s breathless again as his cock twitches inside you, groaning lowly at the feeling of your cum coating his length as he buries himself to the hilt over and over, tip nearly brushing your cervix with each thrust, “how many times ‘til my baby is satisfied?”

you shake your head, overstimulation pressing into your skin as he fucks you through your orgasm. your body warms up further, whines escaping your lips as you already feel your stomach twisting in knots again, the overwhelming arousal and need never slipping from the forefront of your mind.

jay’s hand slides from your cheek down to your clit, the initial contact making you cry out with a pained whine, your tail jerking up instantly before jay’s long, black tail is entwining with your own, a smirk crawling over his lips, “every part of you wants me, isn’t that right?”

you nod wildly, the softness of his fur pressed against your own making you feel fuzzier than before, every part of jay feeling so impossibly close, yet you need him closer, need him to overwhelm you even further, to press himself so deep into your skin that it’ll make this insatiable, world shattering hunger dissipate from your mind, leaving only thoughts of him in its wake.

“waited so long for you, angel–” jay rambles between each thrust of his delicious length. jay towers over you as his movements continue, leaning down to capture your puffy red lips, his mouth gliding over your own in a messy, passionate display. his pretty lips slide against your own deliciously, and a particularly sharp press against your clit has your jaw going slack against his.

you’ve never cum back to back like this, never in your life experienced something so primal before this moment.

your head is spinning, tail squeezing his impossibly tight as your walls clench around him for the second time. jay grunts lowly as he feels your squeezing him tight, the warmth of your walls sending his mind reeling as he stills, one hand gripping your hip with a bruising hold, pressing your flushed, warm skin against his own, wanting your heat to permeate and fill his body with a similar overwhelming, dizzying warmth.

jay watches in awe as your ears press against your head this time, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you press around him so tightly, nearly forcing his cock out of your weeping hole from the force of your orgasm. the wetness rushing around him is enough to have jay biting your lower lip. the pain is indecipherable through your mind numbing high, heat still running through your system as he thrusts into you once more, each yank of his cock pulling nearly all the way out before slamming deep, pushing his body flush to yours, nearly touching your cervix with each concentrated movement.

“keep squeezing me like that, baby, fuck–” jay groans, unable to control himself as he slides his slick lips against yours, capturing your attention once more after the shockwaves of your orgasm have subsided. “jay–” you groan against his mouth.

he pulls away just enough to look into your eyes, hunger swimming in his gaze as he watches you, “what is it, angel?”

“it’s so hot…” you whine, squirming in his hold, “too hot!”

jay nods sympathetically, cupping your face gently, “i know baby, jay will make it feel better, okay?” he offers you a smile when you nod, “there you go, angel. now how about you give me one more?”

jay doesn’t wait for your answer this time, instead resuming his pointed thrusts into your welcoming hole and practiced shapes on your sensitive clit. your ears smush against your head as his presence continues to overwhelm you, sending you further into a headspace where you feel so small, in the most delicious way.

“jay," you whimper, “need you!”

“need me what, baby?” jay’s voice is deeper than before, delicious and enticing as he questions you.

the feeling of his cock bullying itself further into your heat with each thrust has your brain feeling numb, “i-inside…”

“i’m already inside you, angel, feel me up here?” jay presses on the delicate skin of your stomach, groaning aloud when he feels the tip of his cock protruding through your skin. “fuck–”

you nod wildly, hands finally free to grab onto his biceps as you squeeze them harshly, trying to keep a semblance of a grip on reality.

“baby doesn’t even know what she’s asking for…” jay tsks, shaking his head lightly as he grunts lowly with each thrust, “needy little girl.”

his words send a whimper tumbling from your mouth before you feel yourself once again teetering on the edge of a delicious precipice, one that separates you from a shockwave of pleasure.

“c-cum inside me, please!” you beg, whimpering as jay groans aloud at your admission, thrusts stilling as he presses flush against your pelvis, painting your insides white. he never ceases his movements on your clit, and the feeling of fullness coupled with the incessant pressing of shapes on your sensitive bud have you falling for a third time, the speed of it all would’ve astounded you if you were anywhere near in your right mind.

“fuck!” jay yells as you squeeze him impossibly tight, cum rushing around him and filling your hole, a ring of white sitting around the base of his cock.

you feel like you’re in another world, butterflies thrumming around beneath your skin and fireworks exploding in your belly. your head is full of cotton balls and all you can feel is pure pleasure as you pant, trying to catch your breath. not a single coherent thought is in your brain as a distant warmth presses against your cheek.

jay watches you closely, concern growing a bit at the sight of you looking completely brainless, not a single thought behind your eyes as you stare up at his sweaty face. he thinks you look beautiful like this, the prettiest woman he’s ever laid his eyes on, all flushed and fucked out beneath him, eyes wide in wonder as you slowly come down from your final high. each touch from him feels like he’s imprinting himself into your skin, trying to press his existence into the curves of your brain.

jay stays still as he waits for you to come down from whatever world you’re in right now, petting your ears gently to coax you back to him. the fur feels soft beneath his rough hands, smiling lightly as the realization finally washes over him.

“mmm–” you groan, eyes filling with a small sign of life and consciousness once more, “jay…”

“i’m right here, pretty,” jay smiles.

your insatiable hunger dissipates, slowly slipping out of your form as you’re released from the chokehold of the heat you’ve been battling. your body still feels warm as his presence surrounds you.

the embarrassment of it all finally begins to wash over you, and you throw an arm over your face to hide from him. jay giggles at your antics, prying your arm off slowly before pressing a gentle kiss to your pouty lips. “i just watched you cum three times, and now you’re gonna be embarrassed?”

you shake your head, burying your face in his chest. “no… not embarrassed…”

“your actions say otherwise, pretty girl,” jay teases, gently petting your ears and pressing a kiss to your messy hair.

your body hums with a sense of security, the safety of him wrapping you in a blanket of warmth. the feeling of being so vulnerable, the overwhelming fear growing in your stomach, is eased by the fact that jay has grown up with you all these years. his kind smile has always brought a sense of peace to your body, and that trend continues through the present moment. as you lean back and meet his eye, his loving gaze trained on the spot where he's scratching your ears gently, your heart soars.

“just… tired.” you offer him a small smile, your unease slipping away as he holds your exhausted body.

“i’m not surprised,” jay chuckles.

jay slides his hands down from your head to cradle your hips, pulling your body closer to his, his warmth surrounding the two of you. his touch is tender and light as he holds you close, gently grasping at your delicate skin like you might crack if he presses in too deep. “will you…” you begin, eyes darting around his face, unable to meet his eye, “stay?”

jay’s pretty lips crack into a dazzling smile, chuckling lightly at your embarrassed state at asking such a simple question, one he thought would be obvious. though he’s sure your post heat daze is making you question everything right now.

“i’ll stay for as long as you need me to.”

you smile softly at his answer, low purrs emanating from your still form, “even if it’s longer than just today?”

"you asking me to take you on a date, pretty girl?”

you hide your face in his chest, blush flushing your cheeks and spreading heat through your body once more, one that could rival the temperature that filled your senses merely moments before.

“what if i was?”

jay scratches at your ears with one hand once more, pressing a kiss to your messy, post sex hair. “then i’d take you on the best first date imaginable.”

“and after?”

“and after i’d fuck you ‘til you can’t walk.”

“jay!”

[thewidowsledger]

Bearer Of The Seed

© thewidowsledger 2024 - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE

Pairings: Targaryen!Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Word count: 5.1k

Tags | Warnings: +18, HOUSE OF THE DRAGON AU, AMAB!Natasha, Targayen!Natasha, smut, angst (sex just for the obligation of making heirs), forced marriage (political arrangement to save reader's family), Natasha plots to make reader pregnant while reader plots to deceive Natasha lol, lots of chasing, top!Natasha, bottom!reader, dubious consent, breeding kink, rough sex, bleeding (reader is a virgin), creampie, fingering (r receiving), overstimulation & squirting (r receiving)

Author’s Note: Tiger cub!!!! 🐅 Thank you so much for your request and I hope I wrote your request the way you imagined it to be. Yey, my first fic request done! There are more, hihi <3 ps. I am not actually back yet, I just wanted to post this ksksskskss

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⧗

“Rest and heal, my sweet. And I will make sure to make up for the night we missed,” she said in a soft and gentle tone, only for you to hear as you continued to lie there, your eyes closed in what appeared to be a deep and restful sleep.

“I’ll have you full of my seed in no time.”

She caressed your face for the last time gently before leaning down to kiss your forehead.

⧗

“Father, smith, warrior. Mother, maiden, crone, stranger…”

The words felt like acid on your tongue. Each one stinging you as they leave your lips. You loathed having to say them. You loathed having to agree. This wasn't some love match. It was the voice of a prisoner accepting their fate.

You force yourself to keep your eyes on Natasha, refusing to blink despite the tears forming. You will not cry. Not in her presence. You will not give her that satisfaction. So you try your best to stand tall, to be defiant. Though it's hard when you feel so completely defeated as you said the final words that will seal you both forever.

“I am yours...and you are mine. From this day...until the end of my days.”

The last word was hardly out of your mouth when Natasha took a step forward and captured your lips with hers. Natasha’s grip on your hips tightens as she pulls you firmly against her. Her lips are rough and insistent as they move against yours. You can feel the tension and desire coursing through her as she claims your mouth in a possessive, greedy kiss.

With what seems like great effort, Natasha breaks the kiss. She takes a step back and you notice a sly smirk slowly appear on his face as she watches you try to catch your breath and you so badly wanted to wipe that on her face. Clearly, she was enjoying the effect she had on you, but you will not make this easy for her.

You will make sure to play this game on your hands, not hers.

⧗

“Heirs…”

Hearing your now family bring up the subject of heirs, made you feel a lump form in your throat. It was something you'd tried to avoid thinking about, but you knew it was a reality you would have to face.

Natasha didn't even flinch. She seems confident and unbothered, like she has no concerns in that regard. She responds without missing a beat.

“Oh, we’ll have heirs. Plenty of them, in fact.”

Natasha's grip on your hands tightens slightly, you force a tight-lipped smile on your face as you struggle to appear calm.

“I will make sure that our marriage bed will not lack heat. We’ll have as many children as the gods see fit to bless us with.” She added with such confidence.

You knew that the celebration was coming to an end and you were starting to feel overwhelmed by the noise and the crowd—by her. The air felt hot and stifling. Without saying a word, you excused yourself but as you stood Natasha didn't let go of your hand. So you eyed her intently authoritatively and she immediately released your hand, you didn't miss the flicker of hesitation and fear in her eyes. Her usual confident and authoritative demeanor seemed to be gone for a moment, revealing just the slightest crack in her armor.

As you walked, a small smirk tugged your lips, it gave you a sense of satisfaction, knowing that you had the power to affect her in that way. For a brief moment, you felt like you were in control, that you had some bargaining power in this situation.

Of course you do, you will play this game right on your palm, right?

You stepped into the cool night air of the corridors outside, you tried not to let your emotions get the best of you as you thought about the fact that your family had been saved, you realized just how high the cost was. Natasha had saved you from ruin, but the price was steep. You were now the payment, a pawn in a larger game of power and politics. Knowing that you were traded like a piece of livestock in exchange for your family’s safety, it was a bitter pill to swallow.

One of the foremost was the fact that you will need to carry the child of someone you didn't really know. Natasha Romanoff was a complex and dangerous woman, unpredictable, impulsive and arrogant—those are the only things you know about her. So the thought of being connected to her through a child was unsettling, to say the least. Yet you knew, as soon as the words of the scripted vows you loathed to say forcefully fell from your lips, there was no turning back.

It is inevitable or perhaps it can be avoided?

You were lost in your own thoughts, worrying about your future, when the maid servant's voice broke your train of thought.

“The celebration is over, your Grace. The King will be expecting you in her chambers.”

Her words and the instructions were simple, but they sent a shiver of unease through you. But you wanted to test the waters, you wanted to test who among you holds such power to the both of you.

“Let her know that I am denying her request,” you replied coldly as the night breeze.

“But your Gra—”

“Tell her that.” you cut her off with a finality, “I’ll be at my chambers, I’ll retire early for tonight.” You added, hinting that if she wished to prove the power she has on you, she will come and show you.

The night slipped away and you opted for the secret chambers that only and your maester, Wanda knew. Inside, you hoped to find solitude and respite from the pressures and chaos of the day.

You stayed in the dimly lit room, the only light provided by a few flickering candles, as the night went on. You didn’t know whether or not Natasha had come to your original chambers, expecting to find you there.

But you will make sure not surrender yourself, not without a fight.

⧗

Natasha was growing increasingly frustrated as she recounted different excuses from the maid servants every time she inquired about you. She hadn't seen you since the night of your wedding, and the more time passed the more suspicious she became.

Another maid servant entered her headquarters and she is for sure to deliver another excuse from you.

“The Queen is not feeling well, you Grace.”

The maid servant stood before the King, her hands clasped in front of her nervously as she delivered her message.

“What happened? What does the maester say the issue is?” The suspicion that she had in mind is now gone and is replaced by a deep concern for you.

“Well, you Gr—”

“I will go and check on my wife.”

“I fear the Queen doesn’t want anyone in her chambe—”

“I’m not anyone, I am her King. I am her wife.”

Without another word of excuse, she rose from her seat and stalked out of the room. The King wasted no time making her way through the halls of the Keep, her steps were loud as she walked towards your chambers.

The moment Natasha stepped into the chambers, her eyes immediately fell upon your pale form lying in the bed. She was by your side in an instant, her hand reaching out to touch your forehead—and she could feel the heat radiating from you.

“Gods, you’re burning up,” she muttered, as she took in your sickly appearance.

Natasha's eyes darted to the maester as she confirmed that you would be fine in time, and that you had been examined already.

“And what is the cause of her sickness?” she questioned, her gaze returning to you.

Wanda cleared her throat, as she darted her eyes on your sleeping form. She breathed, shutting her eyes before she explained the cause of your illness.

“It appears the Queen has fallen ill due to stress and exhaustion,” she said with a shaky voice, as she watched Natasha softly caress your body. “And it would be best for her to be left alone for a few days, allowing her body to rest and recover,” she added, finally eyeing the King.

“Days?” Natasha repeated as if she didn't hear it clearly.

“Yes…”

Natasha let out a heavy sigh, her mind conflicted. On one hand, she wanted to keep you in her sight and she wanted you to be okay now so she could spend the nights with you fulfilling the obligations of making a long line of heirs. On the other, she knew the maester was likely right about your need for solitude and rest.

“Rest and heal, my sweet. And I will make sure to make up for the night we missed,” she said in a soft and gentle tone, only for you to hear as you continued to lie there, your eyes closed in what appeared to be a deep and restful sleep.

“I’ll have you full of my seed in no time.”

She caressed your face for the last time gently before leaning down to kiss your forehead.

As she withdrew, she turned to the Wanda who was standing just outside the doorway of your chamber. “Do everything you can to ensure that she is well soon,” she instructed.

“Yes, your Grace.”

As soon as Natasha left your chambers, you slowly and stealthily got up from the bed where you had been feigning sleep. Your body trembled slightly as you inhaled deep breaths, the adrenaline coursing through your veins. You were grateful that your plan had worked, and that Natasha had believed your act of being sick.

Wanda, your trusted maester and ally in your plan, looked at you with a sigh as you got up from the bed.

“I told you hot water and a cloth would do the trick,” she said, referring to the method she suggested to fake your elevated temperature.

“I’ll have you full of my seed in no time.”

“My Grace, are you alright? Are you really sick now? You look pale.”

You snapped back to the present, your mind still replaying Natasha's words from earlier when she spoke to you while you were pretending to be in a deep slumber.

“I’m fine,” you assured Wanda, your voice a little shaky. “Just a bit…tired, that’s all.”

Tired of all this.

“Well, I shall leave you alone then, my Grace.”

Wanda has been the first person you became close with, and she has been nothing but supportive to cover up for you and your plans. You even heard her lie for you just a while ago and that was not even a part of your plan. But when the King asked about your condition—your fake condition, she still did with no hesitation.

“Thank you, Wanda.”

⧗

It had been several days since Natasha’s visit, and you had successfully managed to avoid her so far due to your pretense of being sick. Now, you were stepping out into the gardens, seeking a change of scenery and some fresh air.

The gardens were a lovely sight, the sun shining brightly and the flowers in full bloom. You strolled along the pathways, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere.

As you were walking in the garden, relishing the tranquil surroundings, your eyes caught a glimpse of something or rather, someone—in the distance. It was Natasha, standing next to Caraxes, the Blood Wyrm.

Her gaze was fixated on you and you could tell that she was surprised to see you out and about, considering the fact that you were supposed to be unwell. And now, she is making her way over to you.

Your instincts kicked in immediately, and your first thought was to run. Without hesitation, you darted through the gardens, your heart racing as you navigated the twisting and turning paths of the maze.

As you ran, adrenaline pumped through your veins, and you quickened your pace, determined to elude her as long as possible.

You were dressed in a gown made of flowing silk, the fabric soft and lightweight against your skin. The hem of the dress brushed against the grass as you ran, occasionally catching on the leaves of the maze bushes.

You sprinted through the maze, dodging and weaving between the high walls of greenery. As you continued running through the maze, your heart rate spiked ever higher when you caught a glimpse of Natasha through the gaps in the leaves.

Seeing her so close, so determined to find you, sent another jolt of adrenaline through your body, the fight-or-flight response kicking into high gear.

Although you were aware that she would eventually catch you, you refused to let her have an easy victory. You steeled yourself, determined to play this game in your own hands.

The twists and turns of the maze became your playground. Every time you thought she was closing in, you would change direction, taking unexpected forks that would put some distance between you again.

As you sprinted through the maze, looking back in the direction you last saw Natasha, a sudden body slammed in front of you. The force knocked you off balance, catching you off guard.

A pair of hands locked around your arms, effectively trapping you, preventing any further escape.

“Are you running away from me?”

As you met Natasha’s intense gaze, your heart raced and your words came out in a slight stutter. “Y-your Grace…” you started to say, but your mind was too preoccupied with the situation to form a coherent response.

You gulped as you looked away, and then replied with a shaky voice. “No, your Grace,” you said, your eyes still fixed on the soil where you were standing. Despite your denial, there was undeniable fear in your voice.

“I was expecting that you’re still in your chambers, resting. Wanda told me you’re still sick.”

“I wanted to go out, g-get some fresh air…”

“You should’ve come to me so I will go out with you.”

“I…” you hesitated for a moment, wanting to be careful on how you’re going to say the next words, “I wanted to have some time alone, y-your Grace.”

Her grip on your arms relaxed slightly as she heard your response. “I haven't had a night alone with you since our wedding, Y/N,” she said, she sounded a bit disappointed that made you hitch your breath.

“Look at me.” She commanded, leaving no room for disobedience. And you slowly did, as your gazes met, her eyes softened with a little fire of an intense desire, and her proximity to you made your heart race even faster.

In a swift and dominating move, Natasha closed the remaining distance between you and claimed your lips in a searing kiss. Natasha sensed your attempts to resist so she deepened the kiss, her tongue demanding entry, as her hands on your arms pulled you even closer to her.

Your resistance was a futile battle and you finally surrendered to her but you fought not to moan as her tongue explored the cavern of your mouth, leaving you breathless and vulnerable. As Natasha moved her attention towards your neck, her lips and tongue trailing along the sensitive skin, you tilted your head back, submitting to her control.

Her lips left your neck as she leaned towards your ear, her words a low, seductive whisper.

“I shall be expecting to see you in my chambers tonight.”

⧗

The evening had arrived, and Natasha made her way to her chamber, fully expecting to find you there—in her bed in all your glory. However, as she entered the room, her eyes scanned the space, but you were nowhere to be seen. Her initial confusion quickly turned into seething anger as she realized you didn’t follow her command.

She wasted no time and stormed through the corridors, her patience wearing thin. It has been far too long, and she is determined to have you, one way or another. Her strides were purposeful and filled with seething anger, her mind set on one mission.

To find you and bring you to her bed.

As soon as she stepped into your chambers, her eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light. She approached the figure lying in the bed, she leaned closer to get a better look of you, and when she dipped her knee to the soft bed, the figure suddenly moved, emitting a piercing scream. Startled, Natasha let out a gasp, quickly realizing it wasn’t you but your maid servant.

“Y-your Grace!” The maid servant rushed out apologetically as she immediately threw the thick covers out her body and stood.

“Where is Y/N? Why are you in the Queen’s bed?!” Natasha demanded.

“Queen Y/N noticed I-I wasn’t feeling well and…well, I am fine but-but the Queen insisted that I am not fine,” the maid servant’s hands flew in different direction as she tried to explain herself, “and she told me…she insisted that I should rest, right here, in her bed. And she left.” The maid servant scrambled, the words coming out in a rush from her lips not wanting to receive the seething anger of the King.

“Forgive me, your Grace…please.”

The maid servant's continuous apologies grew quieter as Natasha's attention shifted. Her gaze moved towards the window, where she spotted a figure dashing towards the garden maze. She instantly recognized it was you, and a sly smile tugged at her lips. Ignoring the maid servant, Natasha stepped towards the window of your chambers.

Once again, you found yourself racing through the labyrinthine maze, your breath coming in short gasps as you desperately sought an escape. The twists and turns of the paths seemed to taunt you, creating a confusing web to ensnare you. Fear and adrenaline coursed through your veins, your mind focused on one goal and that is to survive the night without having to spend it on the King’s bed.

Natasha’s voice echoed through the night, “Making a maid servant sleep in your own bed, just to fool me?”

Despite the gasp that escaped your lips at the sound of Natasha's seething voice, you refused to let it slow you down. Your legs propelled you forward, your bare feet pounding against the cool grass as you continued your race through the maze. There was no time for looking back, only the need to elude her pursuit.

“You were never ill, Y/N!”

As you ran through the maze, the tears of fear started to well up in your eyes, causing you to shut them tightly shut. The emotions coursing through you were overwhelming—fear, defiance, and the weight of the situation hitting you all at once. Yet, amidst it all, a small part of you stubbornly held onto the hope that you could somehow escape Natasha.

Just as you rounded a corner in the maze, a strong body suddenly locked onto you, arms encircling you like a vise grip. Caught off guard, you let out a gasp in surprise, struggling against the strong hold. The realization that Natasha had finally caught you struck you like a bolt of lightning.

“I knew you heard me that time…I never lied when I said I will make sure you’re full of my seed.”

In a swift and effortless motion, Natasha scooped you up and threw you in her shoulders, her strong grip on your thighs unyielding as she carried you to her chambers. You tried to resist, squirming and fighting against her, but her strength was undeniable. Despite your attempts to break free, it was clear that you had no chance of escape.

The game is no longer in your hands. It never was.

The guards stationed nearby stood at their positions, their eyes averted from the scene. They could only watch as Natasha carried you flailing in her arms, your screams piercing the air. Fear for their own lives kept them in place, knowing full well that they could have their heads off if they bothered to look in your direction.

“Lock the doors!” she barked, her tone leaving no room for questions. The guards obeyed, swiftly securing the chamber doors, sealing you and Natasha inside. Without a moment of hesitation, she hurled you onto her bed, the force of her throw causing you to bounce slightly upon the plush mattress.

“Strip,” she commanded in a low voice that made you shiver in fear, “Remove every piece of clothing you wear. I want to see my wife before me in all her naked glory. Do not forget to remove any trinkets or tokens you may be wearing.”

Your hands were shaking when you let your dress slip to the floor, revealing your vulnerable form, your body betrays you with gooseflesh. Tears well up in your eyes, spilling over and cascading down your cheeks.

Natasha watched, sitting at the bed as you stripped the last piece of clothing out of your body.

Her cold, green orbs leisurely take in every inch of your bare flesh. They linger on the fullness of your breasts, the pebbled peaks begging for her touch. Her gaze trails down to the small, dark mole at the side of your breast, a unique birthmark that she commits to memory.

Her eyes continue their languid descent, taking in the slight roundness of your belly soon to be full of her seed, the flare of your hips, and the soft curls at the juncture of your thighs. She studies the glistening evidence of your fear and humiliation, the pink folds of your pussy already swollen and slick.

The shame of your nakedness burns through you like a physical touch, amplified by the fact that Natasha remains fully clothed. Her silken robes and velvet cloak seem to mock your naked form, the heavy golden brooch at her shoulder a stark reminder of the game is now holding place in her hands.

A cruel smile plays on Natasha’s lips as she sees the shame and fear in your eyes. She rises once more, her tall form towering over you. Her hands go to the sash at her waist, undoing it with deliberate slowness.

The silk slithers to the floor, pooling around her feet. She begins to slowly unlace her leather breeches, her gaze locked with yours. As the garment falls away, revealing her hardened cock, you can't help but gulp, your eyes wide with trepidation.

She stepped closer to you, caressing your cheek. You didn't know why but you leaned in to her touch as she wiped the tears off your face. She looked at your glossy eyes before she leaned forward, her lips pressing against yours in a soft, yet commanding kiss. Your lips part instinctively, allowing her to sweep her tongue inside, claiming your mouth as hers.

“Open wider,” she demands, breaking the kiss to gaze down at you. She tilts your head back further, forcing your mouth open wider. She kisses you again, this time her tongue probing deeper, exploring the warmth of your mouth. She sucks on your bottom lip, pulling it between her teeth and biting down gently.

Your breath hitches, a soft whimper escaping your throat as her kiss becomes more intense. Her hands tangled in your hair and you can't help but moan softly, the sound muffled against her lips.

Natasha broke the kiss and sees the raw innocence in your eyes, the moisture making them glisten like jewels. Your lips are swollen and parted, a thin string of saliva stretching between them, quivering as you suck in ragged breaths. Her gaze darkens with lust and satisfaction.

“My bed has been lacking...heat,” she murmurs, her voice low and gravelly. She reaches out, wiping the saliva from your chin with her thumb. “And you, my sweet, are going to warm it tonight.”

You took a step backwards and tilt your head to the side to avoid her touch.

“You make it difficult,” she says, her voice tight with frustration, “to fulfill the one duty that should be simple. I have conquered cities, bent knees to mine, tamed dragons...And yet, you make it hard for me to plant my seed in your womb.”

“Am I just a bearer of your offspring?” You pinched your brows together, finally eyeing the King as the tears cascaded down your face.

“Yes,” she replied bluntly, undressing herself, “in this, you are.” As her clothing falls away, revealing her breasts and her tanned, muscular body, she meets your gaze squarely. “But know this, my sweet, you are not just any bearer.”

“You are my Queen—my own wife who dared to deceive and defy me,” she says as she steps forward, her eyes roaming over your body hungrily. “And when I have won, when you carry my child, you will be the mother of my heir.”

“And perhaps,” she says, her voice dropping to a near whisper as she leans over you, “when this is done, when my line is secured, you will be something more.” Her gaze holds yours captive. “But for tonight, you are simply the woman I must breed.”

Your heart shatters in your chest as she speaks those words. The cold, hard truth of her intent cuts deep, each word a knife twisting in your soul. You are not her beloved, her equal, but a tool, a vessel to bear her child and you knew it from the beginning.

Without you carrying her offspring, you are nothing.

Natasha then grabs you roughly, flipping you around and throwing you onto the bed. She climbs over you, positioning herself behind your ass.

With a sudden, brutal motion, she thrusts herself inside you, ignoring your cries of pain as she tears through your resisting body. She groans in satisfaction, her hands gripping your hips as she begins to rut into you with merciless force, her dragon's strength overpowering any objections you might have.

“You are mine now,” she growls, her breath hot against your ear. “No more defiance, no more resistance. You will bear my child, as is your purpose.” Each word is punctuated by a hard thrust, her hips slamming against your ass cheek with brutal intensity.

She pulls out of you suddenly, her thick cock glistening with your virgin blood. Natasha flips you over, pushing your hips in the bed. Her body pressed heavily against yours as she positioned herself between your legs. Without warning, she slams back into you, her dragon-sized cock splitting you open.

You're screaming now, your voice echoing off the walls as she fucks you with brutal, animalistic intensity.

She moves to silence your screams and releases your mouth long enough to trail her lips down your body, pausing to suckle at each breast roughly, her teeth scraping against your sensitive nipples.

“You are so tight around me, Y/N,” she groans, her voice low and possessive. “Your body was made just for my pleasure. Your virgin hole is so snug, clasping around me like a glove. You were made to be filled by me, to bear my children.”

Her hands grip your thighs, spreading you wider, allowing her to bury herself deeper. As she grinds her hips against yours, she leaned down and your hands immediately claw at her back, your fingernails digging into her skin.

Her muscled back flexes under your desperate, clawing hands. You feel each ridge of muscle, the hard strength of her. Despite the pain she's causing, despite the brutal taking, your body responds to her, your core clenching around her cock as you feel her powerful body move against yours.

“Y-your…Grace…” you called out for her, mouth open as she tore you apart. You held her neck and the silver locks of her hair, your legs crossed at her waist.

“You’re my Queen.” She growled in your ear.

“Yes, your Grace!” You cried out in pain and pleasure.

“Then you will take what I give you, you will be painted with my seed and soon enough you’ll bear my heir.”

Her words made your pussy clench even tighter around her massive cock. She feels it, her thrusts becoming even more powerful as she drives her seed deep into your womb.

She straightens up, her hands gripping your hips as she slams into you one final time. Her body stiffens, her head thrown back in a silent roar as she finds her release. She grinds her hips against yours, ensuring every drop is deep inside you.

Natasha pulls out of you slowly, her eyes locked onto your well-stretched opening. She watches as her seed begins to leak out mixing with your virgin blood, a possessive growl rumbling in her chest. Without hesitation, she pushes the escaping seed back inside with her slender fingers.

“My seed stays inside you,” she continues to push her fingers inside you, scooping up her own seed and forcing it back into your walls, making sure it's as deep inside you as possible. She repeats this process several times, her fingers pumping in and out of you as she ensures her claim is secure.

The sensation of her fingers pushing into you, combined with the gentle throbbing from her earlier pumps, becomes too much to bear. You can feel yourself growing more and more sensitive, the line between pleasure and pain blurring. You moan, your voice barely a whisper.

“Your Grace...it's too much…”

She ignores your plea, her voice dark as she murmurs, “It’s Natasha for you, my sweet.” Her fingers continue to push into your overstimulated hole, the motion causing you to convulse around her.

“Natasha…” you stammer, her name tumbling from your lips like a prayer as the intense sensation consumes you. Her name on your lips, filled with such raw emotion, makes her own stomach flutter.

You convulse violently, your body shaking uncontrollably as a gush of liquid spurts out from between your thighs. Natasha muffles her approval against your neck, her voice thick with satisfaction as she feels the evidence of your spend.

“Say it again,” she demands, her fingers continuing to pump into you as the aftershocks wrack your body. “Say my name like that again, Y/N.” Her own control is slipping, your words affecting Natasha more than she’d like to admit. You whimper, your voice hoarse.

"N-Natasha...Natasha...only...only you…” Each word is punctuated by a sharp breath as your body continues to spasm around her fingers. She lets out a low groan, her head dropping to your shoulder as she listens to you beg for her alone.

“You’re so good for me,” she praises, her voice rough with desire. She withdraws her fingers from your dripping pussy, bringing them to her mouth to clean them with a hungry suckle. Her eyes never leaving yours as she does so, drinking in the sight of her Queen overcome with pleasure.

“From now on, you will sleep in this same bed as mine so I can ensure that you remain well-bred every night.”

[punkshort]

i know who you are | 7. the week

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Joel is on a mission to win you back. You struggle with your feelings and visit an old friend for some perspective.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, pining, sad!Joel, amnesia, slow burn, physical violence, wounds/blood/injuries/gore, vague reference to suicide (Joel remembering his incident after Sarah), alcohol consumption, non-descriptive smutty memory, mentions of murder (adults and children), mentions of pregnancy (not reader)

WC: 7.7K

A/N: I took some liberties with the background of the Fireflies, it's not exactly canon.

Series Masterlist

Somewhere in Northern California

It took two days.

Two full days of freezing temperatures and frigid wind as he traversed up and down mountains, through snow covered forests with little to no shelter, but he finally made it. Right before nightfall, he approached the edge of the town you grew up in. The town your parents still lived in ten years ago. The town that holds a history of you and everything you hold dear.

It was too dark and he was too tired to enter the town and go any further, but fortune smiled upon him for the first time since he left Jackson when he spotted a dilapidated woodshed tucked into the forest. It was small, no bigger than a bedroom, but it would do. It would be the first time in two days he would get to sleep with a roof over his head, and he desperately needed it.

He grossly overestimated his ability to survive out in the wild. He did it before, of course, but life in Jackson made him soft. Made him complacent. Made him weak.

Time took its toll on his body. His age was an offensive reminder every time his knees creaked or his back twinged. He wasn't as fast as he used to be, nor as strong. But he was determined and stubborn, two things that would never change.

With hands trembling from the cold, he jabbed his knife into the lock and broke it with ease, a small triumph in an otherwise unforgiving journey. The shed was mostly empty, save for a pile of wood and an axe. Plenty of room for both him and the horse.

After he scattered some oats on the floor, he grabbed his rifle and marched back out into the snowy tundra to do a perimeter check, knowing he would fall asleep the moment he allowed himself to slow down. By the time he deemed the area safe, he retreated back into the woodshed and lit a fire in the tiny furnace to warm up a bit.

Once he got feeling back in his fingers, he cracked open some stew and ate it cold straight from the can, too impatient to warm it up and too eager to get some rest. The wind howled outside, practically screaming at him with every gust: How could you say that to me?

The horse nickered softly, her head lowered, one back leg cocked as she began to doze off. He laid on the wooden floor, partially resting inside his sleeping bag, ready to strike if there was an intruder. The back of his wrist laid against his forehead while he stared blankly at the ceiling, wondering for the umpteenth time if what he was doing was even going to work. If he would even be capable of finding your house in this town, let alone finding any pictures still in good enough condition to bring back to you.

But it was all he had.

You had mentioned to him when he was sick, after you saw the photo of Sarah, how you wished you had pictures of your family. You looked so somber and distant and he was once again reminded that even though you lost them ten years ago, in your mind you only lost them months ago.

He couldn't imagine losing Sarah twice. Waking up one day, thinking she was alive and healthy and late for school just to be told she was killed mercilessly ten years prior and died in his arms. You were so much stronger than him. You always were. You were told your whole world changed, your family gone, and then tossed into a house with him, pressured by everyone every damn day to regain your memories and become a completely different person when he knew deep down if the same had happened to him, his answer would lie at the end of a barrel. But unlike before, he might not flinch.

You really fucking hurt me, Joel.

He rubbed his face aggressively, the pain and anguish in your voice haunting him. This trip left him with too much time to get lost in his thoughts, too much time to wallow in his grief and replay every single painful memory from the past several days.

Sighing, he dropped his hands to his chest and tried to think about something else. Letting his eyes drift shut, he let his mind wander back to before. Before your accident, before he fucked everything up, back to a time when you were happy and stupidly in love.

"What's cookin', good lookin'?" he heard your voice behind him.

He grinned as he stirred a pot of sauce on the stove while you wrapped your arms around his midsection, burying your face against his back.

"My accent rubbin' off on you now?"

You giggled and let go, walking over to grab the bottle of whiskey and pouring you each a glass.

"Maybe."

You handed him his glass and clinked them together before taking a sip.

"How was patrol?" he asked, turning his attention back to the pasta.

"Boring," you replied, hopping up onto the counter next to him, swinging your legs back and forth. "Jesse has a lot of work to do. He's not seasoned enough to be out there without one of us."

He nodded thoughtfully and lifted the spoon up to your lips to taste the sauce. "Needs lemon," you said, licking your upper lip while he snatched a lemon from a basket in the corner of the kitchen and sliced it in half.

"Yeah, I know, but he's got potential. Just gotta get him to focus a bit more. Gotta be more aware of his surroundings."

You hummed and rubbed the back of your neck with a wince.

"You hurtin'?" he asked, but you shook your head immediately.

"Just tired."

"You sure?" he said while he strained the pasta. "I can rub your neck later."

"Oh, well in that case, yes. I'm absolutely aching over here," you said with a smile.

"Don't tempt me, baby," he told you, setting down the pot before wedging himself between your knees, his hands rubbing over your thighs. "Might not stop at your neck."

"Is that right?" you teased, pulling your lower lip between your teeth playfully.

"Mhmm. First it's your neck, then shoulders," he said, pressing a gentle kiss against your lips, "then your back," he dragged his hands up your back and pressed you forward, nearly pulling you off the counter.

"Then what?" you asked breathlessly, arms loosely draping around the back of his neck.

"Before y'know it, you'll be pullin' at my belt, tellin' me you got an ache someplace else 'n you need me to stuff you full of my cock." His hands dragged up and down your back, his mouth nipping gently at your throat as you tipped your head back with a gasp.

"You know me so well," you murmured, a lazy smirk spreading across your face when you felt the urgency behind his touch.

"Yeah I do, baby," his words getting lost against your skin, "know you like the back of my hand. Know what makes you tick. What makes you feel good. Know what makes you scream my fuckin' name." His lips slotted over yours urgently, the pasta cold and long forgotten as you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him close.

"Take me to bed, Joel," you begged after you pulled your head away, breaking the kiss and then quickly latching onto his neck. "Need you. I want - shit!" you cursed when one of you accidentally pushed a plate off the counter and it smashed into pieces against the floor.

"Leave it, don't care," he said, picking you up and pulling your attention off the shards of ceramic littering the floor. "I'll clean it up later."

His eyes popped open, the echo of your giggle from that night bouncing around his skull. It was almost laughable now, thinking he felt lonely before compared to how he felt in the middle of fucking nowhere with only a sleeping horse to keep him company.

He wasn't stupid. He knew he would need to do more than bring home some pictures to convince you to forgive him. But it was a start, and maybe, just maybe with time, you would come to understand what you meant to him.

And if he was really lucky, he might end up meaning something to you, too.

It was stupid and it didn't mean anything.

That's what you kept telling yourself ever since Joel left and you found yourself curling up in his bed at night instead of yours.

His bed was more comfortable. His room didn't store the bad memories of your fight. It was simply easier to sleep there.

It certainly didn't have anything to do with the way the sheets still smelled like him. Like the soap you both used combined with the outdoors and a hint of his sweat. And on the third night when you picked out a flannel of his from the closet and wrapped it around yourself, it was only because it was a particularly frigid night.

You didn't miss him.

Well, you missed having another person in the house, sure. But you didn't miss him on some deeper level. Maria and Ellie were wrong. They had no idea what they were talking about. They had no idea what was going through your head, what you were feeling, what you were struggling with.

There was no possible way you could have feelings for Joel. Not after everything he did and said. Not after the lies and the cheating and the deception.

But then why, when you were struggling to fall asleep at night, did your mind always wander back to the way he looked at you in the meadow, or the way his arms felt wrapped around you on the back of the horse, or the way he made you laugh when you played Monopoly?

And why did it feel like a part of you left with him that night?

"Pathetic," you muttered to yourself, pulling the sheets tighter and rolling over onto your side, his soft, worn flannel like butter against your bare skin. You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing the memories from your mind and instead, replaying what he told you about the hospital.

He almost killed you. He was seconds away from putting a bullet in your head and only after presumably begging for your life did he let you go, and then he had the nerve to keep that information from you not only once, but fucking twice.

He was protecting Ellie.

But he still shouldn't have lied.

With a groan, you rolled onto your back and stared up at the ceiling, sleep so far out of reach you didn't even feel like trying anymore. Then a thought occurred to you:

You weren't the only one he let live. There were two other people in Jackson who were there, who were shown mercy and didn't appear to hold any resentment towards him for it. In fact, they seemed rather happy with the second chance they were given.

You hadn't seen Ben or Lisa in a long time. The opportunity never presented itself for you to seek any perspective from them about that day.

Perhaps it was time to change that.

It took him a few hours to scope out the town and venture out of the woods, but by late morning he was heading down what looked to be one of the main thoroughfares in town, eyes squinting against the blowing snow as he tried to pinpoint the location of town hall.

All he remembered was your street name but he had absolutely no idea how to find it, so his plan was to break into the town hall and find a map. From there, he prayed Ellie's drawing was truly accurate enough to narrow down your parents' house.

He was freezing. His face was numb and his back was fucking killing him from riding so much, but he was so close. If he was lucky, he could find your house, get what he needed and head out all before nightfall. Maybe he could even spend another night in the woodshed. It wasn't so bad. At least he was warm.

As he continued to steer his horse down another road, he couldn't help but think Tommy was right about the storm. It was providing him some cover, just in case there were survivors around that wouldn't take kindly to his intrusion. He just hoped it would blow through in a day so his ride back would be clear.

After another thirty minutes of wind whipping at his face, the cold penetrating his coat and several layers underneath, he finally saw it. It was a smaller building than he imaged it to be, but the sign was clear. Hoping that the town size was as small as the town hall, he steered his mare down the drive and through the parking lot, making sure to take in his surroundings, confirming he was truly alone before he slid down from the saddle and trudged through the snow to the front doors.

He wiped away the snow from the window, peering inside before heading to another one and doing the same. It appeared to be empty so he tried the door, unsurprisingly finding it locked. He pulled out his knife and worked on the lock, his fingers stiff and his ears so cold he could barely feel them anymore. Finally, he broke the lock but when he shoved the door, there was something blocking him on the other side.

"Shit," he muttered, glancing around, kicking and dusting snow off the surrounding area, looking for a brick or a rock. Giving up, he grabbed his rifle from the saddle and angrily made his way to the nearest window, smashing the butt of his gun against the glass repeatedly until it shattered. He gasped for air, not realizing how much energy he was exerting before he continued, knocking out as much of the glass as he could.

Sticking his head inside, he looked around. The place seemed empty. It was quiet, covered in dust and debris. Untouched dust was good. It meant nobody had been there in a while. Human or otherwise.

He crawled through the window, taking great care to not catch on any jagged edges. He held his breath, ears straining for any noise that might give someone away, but all he heard was the howling wind outside. This is your fault. Still, he kept his guard up. He walked room to room, finding his way to the lobby and searching the front desk for a map.

"You gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me," he grumbled as he opened and shut each drawer in the desk, only pausing to snatch up an old protein bar and shoving it in his pocket.

With a sigh, he looked around the room. There were a couple benches, chairs that were moved and tipped over, papers scattered about but his eyes were drawn to the portraits on the wall. There were a few paintings of men he would never recognize, unknown sheriffs and mayors, and some framed pictures of the staff, but the one that really drew his attention was the large map on the wall next to the front doors.

It was a road map of the town. Simple, but it was all he needed. He rounded the desk and shined his flashlight over the map, studying it, searching for where he was before looking for your street.

"Grant Street."

"Grant?" he repeated, his fingers lightly skirting up and down your bare back.

"Mhmm," you confirmed, eyes closed, a small, satisfied smile tugging at your lips as you buried your face into his neck.

"That's funny," he said, his hand wandering past your waist and over your ass.

"Why's that?"

"Grant's my Mama's maiden name."

Your eyes opened and locked onto his. "Maybe it's fate, then."

Maybe it was.

Grant was only four blocks north. It didn't look like a very long road, either.

He could do this.

He was so close.

Lisa answered the door with the same look of surprise as before, although this time she was clutching needles and yarn in her left hand while the fire quietly crackled behind her.

"Hey," you said, arms wrapped around yourself as the snow storm continued to swirl behind you. "Can I come in?"

"Oh! Of course!" Lisa said, stepping back, "how rude of me. Can I get you something warm to drink?" She closed the door behind you and took a step towards the kitchen. "I just boiled some water for tea, it's still hot."

"Tea sounds lovely, thank you," you said as you hung up your coat and scarf, trying your best not to make a mess of melted snow all over her floor.

She told you to make yourself comfortable while she prepared your tea, so you wandered into her tiny living room, the space seeming a little larger now without your two imposing men.

"Where's Ben?"

"Working," she said, setting down a teacup and saucer next to hers. "I put a little sugar in it."

"Oh, thank you, that's perfect. I like it sweet," you replied, sitting down on the same couch as before and bringing the cup to your lips.

"I know, I remember," she said, and when she sat down and fixed her billowy top, you noticed for the first time the small bump protruding low on her hips.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and she followed your gaze.

"Oh, yes," her tone soft, "I'm due this spring."

"Wow. Congratulations, Lisa. That's wonderful, I had no idea. I thought I would have seen you from time to time at the infirmary," you explained, setting down your tea.

"Nick agrees to see me after hours, sometimes he makes house calls," she said, picking up her needles again.

You titled your head to the side. "Why do you want to be seen after hours?"

Her lips pressed into a thin line, eyes fixed on the yellow blanket she was making. "I still find it difficult sometimes to face some of the others in town, I suppose. I know I shouldn't but the guilt sticks with me."

"Guilt?"

Her eyes flicked up to yours and she shifted her weight. "I know Ben mentioned the Fireflies to you." She held out her wrist, showing you the small moth-like symbol tattooed there. "I'm not sure how much you know or remember-"

"Actually, that's why I'm here," you said, taking a deep breath. "Joel told me everything. About the Fireflies. About the hospital."

Her eyes widened, the needles abandoned in her lap.

"Oh."

"Yeah," you said, chewing on your lip and glancing at the fire. "He told me what he did there. Told me he spared us, let us go."

"Yes, he did," she agreed softly.

"Can you tell me more about that day?" you asked, dragging your eyes back to meet hers. "I'm having trouble understanding how I could have known this before and still managed to fall in love with him."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

You laughed dryly and shrugged. "I mean he almost killed us. He killed countless innocent people, friends of ours I'm assuming, and I'm expected to believe I just looked past it? We just looked past it?" You motioned between the two of you. "He's a murderer, Lisa. He-"

"We're murderers," she corrected, and you fell silent. "We killed innocent people. We helped lead a revolution that resulted in hundreds of deaths, and where did that get us? Nowhere! People weren't any better off. In fact, they were worse. Friends and family killed, caught in the crossfire, tangled up in this idea of freedom and safety and giving their lives to an empty cause."

You swallowed as you watched Lisa's face, her eyes fiery and her tone hardened, transforming into a different version of herself before your very eyes.

"What Joel did..." she trailed off as she thought back to that day. "We did bad things. So did he, but he single handedly cut the Fireflies off at the legs. He stopped the insanity, stopped the war, stopped the ridiculous experiments and half baked ideas to save the world, regardless of the lives lost along the way. You don't remember, I understand, but allow me to explain."

"Please," you begged softly, "please tell me everything."

She rested a palm against her swelling stomach and leaned back. "We realized we made a mistake pretty early on," she began, "but we didn't have anywhere else to go. We had been living in the wild for so long. We were tired and hungry and weak and we fell for it. Fell for the sales pitch when they found us. We were told we wouldn't have to fight, but they didn't tell us what they expected us to do."

"W-what did we do?" you stammered, sitting on the edge of your seat.

"We killed people. Innocent people, point blank. FEDRA soldiers. Civilians who ratted out our location for extra food for their family. Children-" her voice wobbled a bit as she looked down at her stomach. "Children who were experimented on, vaccine prototypes tested on, who became horribly disfigured a-and screaming in pain, begging to be put out of their misery-"

"Okay," you said, cutting her off and taking a deep breath, unable to hear much more. It was becoming clear why Joel kept this from you, and although you had a right to know, you were beginning to understand his motivation. He was trying to protect you.

"Anyway," Lisa continued, flicking a tear from her cheek, "we planned on getting out. We couldn't do it anymore. Then, Joel showed up."

You held your breath, waiting for her to continue.

"We were doing perimeter checks. Loosening a spot in the gate so we could sneak out later that night. Then we heard the gunshots. And at first, we thought some infected got in. It was the perfect distraction, so we grabbed our gear and made a run for it."

She paused to take a sip from her tea, her eyes looking miles away.

"We almost made it. We were in the parking garage loading up a vehicle when he snuck up behind us. Told us to lay face down on the ground with our hands behind our heads. We never saw him and it wasn't until later we found out he was all alone. The whole time we were convinced it had to have been a group of men. It seemed impossible for one man to do what he did, but somehow..."

She trailed off again and cleared her throat.

"He gave us a second chance when we didn't deserve it," she said solemnly. "You and Ben dealt with the weight of what we did far better than me. I still struggle with the guilt, I can't..." she looked up at you, "I hope you never remember."

A chill went down your spine and you nodded.

"Try not to hold it against him," she said, offering you a small smile. "We've all done terrible things. It's not all black and white."

It ain't black and white.

"Yeah, okay," you replied quietly, standing up from the couch, your mind reeling. "Thanks," you added, motioning to the tea before she walked you to the door, "and congratulations again."

"Thank you," she said, rubbing her belly, her green eyes sparkling. "I'm glad you stopped by. The truth is sometimes ugly, but that doesn't mean you don't deserve to understand the whole picture." You nodded and bent over to shove on your boots. "Joel's not a bad man. I'm sure he was just trying to protect you by leaving some things out about our past. He would have told you eventually."

When the whole goddamn world ends and all you got left is one or two people you care 'bout, you'll do whatever you gotta do to protect 'em.

"Yeah, I'm starting to realize that now," you said, shrugging on your coat with a wry smile.

The whole way home, you practically kicked yourself for not visiting Lisa sooner. Maybe it would have made a difference, maybe not. But it finally felt like a missing puzzle piece was back in place and you could begin to make sense of your confusing feelings for Joel.

Ellie was incredibly talented.

He needed to make sure to remind her of that when he got home because even through the blowing snow, in near whiteout conditions, he was still able to figure out which house was yours because Ellie's drawing was so detailed, so accurate that it almost felt like he had been there before.

He was eager and impatient. He just wanted to get inside and get what he needed and leave, but before he did, he peered inside the windows and did a walk around the whole house three times, just in case. It was a small brick ranch and if the snow wasn't so thick, he would be able to see the black shutters framing the front windows, just like in the drawing.

He shouldered open the side garage door first, a pile of fluffy snow spilling over the hard concrete as he stumbled in and shimmied open the roll top door so he could bring his mare inside.

He pat her between the eyes, murmuring his thanks for being so damn tough and sprinkled some more oats on the ground before slipping inside the house.

The door from the attached garage led right into a kitchen, which, by the looks of it, was rifled through on more than one occasion. No doubt some survivors had come through over the years and turned the place upside down for anything useful, but that didn't matter to him. What he needed wouldn't be stolen.

Glancing at the fridge, he paused when he saw some photos stuck to the door. He leaned his rifle against the wall and shook his head, curls flinging melted snow over the dusty floor, then bent over to examine the pictures. Most of them didn't have you and he began to worry he was in the wrong house after all, but then he saw it: at the very top was a picture of four people, all wearing summer clothes and Mickey Mouse ears with the Cinderella castle in the background. A middle aged man and woman bookended a young man, lean but muscular with his arm draped around your shoulders.

You were younger, maybe still in high school, and your hair was longer and lighter, but he would recognize that smile anywhere.

He carefully plucked the photo from the fridge and brought it closer, his eyes raking over every detail of the picture, from the brightness in your eyes to the cotton candy pink sky behind you.

You looked so happy.

Nothing like the way you looked when he last saw you: broken and bruised. Ruined and dejected. Because of him.

You spared my life just to break my heart.

He blinked and pocketed the photo before turning around. The living room was in worse condition. It appeared someone must have stayed there at one point because the couches were shifted around, an armchair wedged in front of the door, cushions flung around haphazardly.

He had to move furniture out of the way, dig around a bit through broken bookshelves, but he managed to finally unearth an old photo album. Resting on one of the couch cushions with a huff, he took a few moments to flip through it, smiling now and then when he saw an especially cute picture of you. The wind outside was howling so loudly, the old house creaking with every gust that he couldn't hear when footsteps slowly crept up behind him and knocked him unconscious with the butt of his own rifle.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

He knew better. He should have scoped out the inside of the house before getting distracted. But he was too excited and too eager to get what he came for that he forgot his own rules. And he took for granted the snowstorm would hide his tracks.

Now he was hunched over on the living room floor, leaning against the wall with his wrists tied behind his back while five raiders went through his things.

"Hey man, don't you like peaches?"

"Fuck yeah I do, give it here."

Joel groaned, the back of his head throbbing, thick, sticky blood slowly trickling down the back of his neck.

"He's waking up."

"Hey, princess, how's the head?" one said with a sinister laugh. Joel ignored him.

"You got some nice shit. Wanna tell us where your camp is?"

Joel opened his eyes and glared at the man in front of him, wearing a leather jacket and leather gloves and a black bandana pulling his dark, wiry hair off his scarred face.

"Fuck you."

The punch came fast and hard across his jaw, making him see stars for a moment. The other men chuckled and got back to dividing up his things.

"You wanna try that again?" the first man asked, crouching down in front of him. Joel tugged on the rope holding his wrists together. The knot was tight but it wasn't foolproof. He just needed a little time to loosen it up.

"Don't got a camp."

"Bullshit," the man barked, spitting against the wall next to Joel's head. "Ain't nobody out here with this kinda gear and a goddamn horse roughing it all alone. Now, just tell us the city and we'll take it from there. We'll even let you live."

He heard one of the other men scoff but the rest remained quiet, and if Joel wasn't already convinced they were planning to kill him either way, he definitely was now.

"Boise."

"Boise?" he repeated, and Joel nodded, twisting his hands behind his back, feeling the coarse rope burn against his skin. The man in the leather jacket sighed and hung his head before landing another blow, this time across the mouth. Joel's lower lip got snagged on his teeth and tore. Blood trickled down his chin as he angrily whipped his head back towards the raider.

"I told you what you wanted!"

"You fed me a bunch of bullshit is what you did," he said, kicking Joel in the ribs. He gasped for air, doubled over against the wall, coughing and spraying blood across the faded floral wallpaper. He wondered if your parents did the wallpaper themselves, if your mom picked it out, or did the house already come like that?

Joel tugged harder on the rope, feeling it start to give. He needed to stay focused. He needed to make every move count if he wanted to get out of this alive.

The raider pulled a revolver from the back of his pants - Joel's revolver - and flipped it over in his hands. Back and forth, back and forth. Then he leaned forward and pressed the barrel against Joel's forehead.

"I'll give you one more chance, asshole," he said, his dark eyes boring into Joel's, "tell us where your camp is or else I shoot you in the fucking head."

"What the hell was he doing here anyway?"

"Shut up, Mike," the guy in the leather growled, eyes still trained on Joel.

"No, but seriously. There's nothing in this house worth taking. We've been through this neighborhood months ago."

The raider's eyes flickered around the room and Joel tugged harder on his restraints when he looked away. Then the man spotted the photo album lying face down on the ground.

"What's this?" he asked, lowering the gun and picking up the album. He began to flip through it and Joel felt the rope finally give. The raider let out a low whistle and slid a photo out to look at it closer. "Don't tell me you came out in the middle of a storm just to find something to jack off to," he teased, holding up a photo of you in a yellow bikini by a pool. He flipped the picture back around and grinned. When he went to stuff it in his pocket, his attention momentarily diverted, Joel took his opportunity to strike.

In the blink of an eye, he snatched the revolver from the raider's fingers and shot him in the temple, his body immediately falling limply to the side. Wet, sticky blood sprayed all over Joel's hand but he just tightened his grip on the gun, taking aim and bringing down another one of the men while they were still too stunned to move.

"Fuck!" one of the remaining three men screamed as they scrambled for cover. Joel ducked behind the couch and held his breath, straining to hear the scuffling of their boots, trying to pinpoint where they were in the small room. When he heard one of them accidentally knock against the kitchen table, the wooden legs scraping against the linoleum, he straightened up and took aim, taking out another man with a bullet right between the eyes, but unfortunately one of the last two men got a shot in as well.

The bullet grazed against his left bicep. Joel hissed and ducked back behind the couch. He would deal with it later.

"Come on, man, we can work something out," one of the men called out after a minute. "Let's just go our separate ways. Act like this never-"

Joel jumped up and shot the man in the cheek, the bullet traveling through his mouth and out the back of his head, leaving brain matter that looked like globs of gelatin dripping down the kitchen cupboards after he fell lifelessly to the ground.

Joel stepped towards the kitchen, now only one on one. He got cocky. He was feeling too confident with how quickly he took out the group. He didn't even see it coming when the knife lodged into his side, just above his hip. Without thinking, he yanked the knife out, twisted around and jammed it into the final raider's throat, watching as he fell to the floor, choking on his own blood, and didn't look away until he stopped twitching.

Adrenaline still coursed through his veins and he used it to his advantage, his left hand pressing weakly against his wound, the wound in his arm preventing it from being very effective while he searched the dead bodies of the men for anything useful. He had brought some first aid with him when he left Jackson but he was too far from home, he would need antibiotics, at least, if he was going to make it back.

Of course, he came up empty, so he snatched his first aid kit from the table and stumbled down the little hallway, searching for a bathroom. He knew it was a lost cause, the raiders already admitted to clearing the place out months ago, but he had to try.

He flung open the medicine cabinet with a grunt, the pain beginning to set in now. Pressing his bloody fingers against the stab wound as hard as he could, he rummaged around the cabinet, leaving paths of red everywhere his fingers touched, then tried the drawers under the sink.

Nothing.

"Fuck," he muttered, collapsing onto the cool tile floor as he began to sort through his first aid kit. There were no towels left but he was sitting on an old bathmat. He groaned in pain when he lifted his hips to pull the bathmat out, shook out the dust and dirt, then pressed it against his side, bringing his knee up to hold it in place.

With trembling fingers, he threaded a needle. He wiped the blood from his hands on his shirt, but they were stained red. Ripping open his jacket and flannel, he lifted the two other layers he had on underneath and lowered his leg to get a look at the wound.

It was deep and he was losing a lot of blood, but he was fairly certain the knife wasn't long enough to knick any organs. His stomach wasn't swelling, that was a good sign.

He only had a small bottle of antiseptic, so he used most of it to clean the wound and then the needle, saving a little bit to use on his arm later.

He took several quick breaths in, hyping himself up, then paused when he first shoved the needle through his skin. Tears sprung up, blurring his vision, but he blinked them away.

Focus. Focus. Focus.

In and out, in and out, he slowly stitched himself up. The angle was awkward and the stitches were ugly, but it got the job done: the bleeding stopped. His heart was hammering in his chest, sweat poured from the sides of his head, mixing with all the blood drying on his face and beard. He slumped to the ground with a pained groan, lying flat on the floor in a pool of his own blood, staring up at the ceiling. He just needed a moment to rest, a moment to catch his breath and then he would go.

Would he ever see you again? Would you ever even know why he came out there? Would you always wonder what happened to him? You told him you cared about him, but was that even true anymore? After what he did?

"C'mon, baby, gimme a sign," he whispered to himself, "gimme a sign that I still got a chance in hell 'cause if I don't, I'm not sure I got the strength to make it home." Tears welled up in his eyes again and this time he let them fall. He sniffled and waited. For what, he wasn't sure. Divine intervention? Genius to strike? A brilliant idea to form? But all he heard was the blowing wind outside.

The tile felt so cool against his burning hot skin. A small voice in the back of his head told him the longer he stayed there the weaker he would become, but he was just so tired. He rolled his head to the side, his eyes about to slide shut when he saw it: a dusty, opaque orange bottle rolled all the way against the wall underneath the sink.

Blinking a few times, he wondered if he was imagining it.

He wasn't.

Stretching his arm out, he slowly reached underneath the vanity and pulled out the half empty bottle. Holding it above his face, he squinted at the letters on the faded sticker.

Penicillin. Use as directed by your dentist.

His breath caught in his throat when he read your name on the label.

He finally got his sign.

"What happens when we die?"

"What?"

You rolled over onto your side to face him, wrapping your arm around his waist. He looked so peaceful, lying in bed like that. His eyes closed, face relaxed. You repeated your question.

"Don't know," he said, cracking open one eye to look at you. "Haven't died yet."

You giggled and he smiled, pulling you closer. He smelled so good. Like the rain and sex and smoke from the fire.

"I mean... do you think there's a heaven?"

He hummed and kissed the top of your head, his fingers lightly trailing up and down your bare arm.

"Yeah, I do."

You swallowed nervously and drew invisible circles into his skin, making him shiver.

"Do you think..." you trailed off and he froze, picking up on your tone.

"What, darlin'?"

"Do you think we'll make it? To heaven, I mean?"

His eyebrows pinched together. "Why wouldn't we?"

"You know why," you replied softly, "we've done bad things, Joel."

"Yeah, but we ain't bad people," he reminded you, then rolled over, pushing you onto your back so his arms caged you in. One knee slotted between yours and you spread your legs, hooking your ankles around the backs of his thighs.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," he said, dipping his chin down and pressing his lips firmly against yours. You sighed, your shoulders finally relaxing. "Besides, this is heaven right here," he murmured against your mouth, feeling you smile.

"Ain't nothin' better than this."

You awoke with a gasp, your heart fluttering wildly in your chest. That was the first time you had a dream about Joel, and something about it made you uneasy.

You had slept in his bed the entire week, wrapped in his clothes, and today was the day you had expected him to come home. Shrugging off the dream to no more than your subconscious fixated on his return, you forced yourself to get out of bed, fixing the sheets so it wouldn't look like you had been sleeping there and then headed to your room to change and freshen up.

The past couple days you had secretly hoped he would come back sooner but you refused to let it show. If Ellie or Dina or Maria asked you about it, you played it cool, or at least you thought you did. But every night you stayed up as late as you could, curled up on the couch all alone, waiting. Every time someone walked by, your body stiffened and your pulse raced, expecting to hear his heavy footsteps walking up the porch, but they never came.

But today was the day. The seventh day. His note said a week, and you knew if Joel was alive, he would stick to his word.

His absence afforded you a lot of time to think. Time you didn't realize you desperately needed, and now that you were able to process everything clearly without his overwhelming presence muddying the waters, you felt confident you knew what you wanted now.

All day at work, you were distracted. Nick had to call your name repeatedly to get your attention on more than one occasion, and by the fifth time you felt guilty. He didn't say anything, though. He understood. By then, most of the town knew Joel had left. Word spread like wildfire, especially once the storm passed through. It didn't take a genius to figure out how difficult it would be to survive all alone in those conditions.

Then the rumors started.

You tried to ignore them, but it was hard. When people began drinking and getting loud in the dining hall, it was impossible not to hear.

When you heard a man claim he saw Joel's horse frozen in a river during patrol, you stopped going to the dining hall to eat.

It was dark, it was just a deer, Tommy had told you later after he went out to the river to check, but it still shook you up.

When the sun set on Jackson on the seventh day and Joel still hadn't returned, the fear began to take hold. Your stomach churned, making it impossible to eat the following morning. You had hardly slept, the bags under your eyes dark and heavy. Nick begged you to take the day off but you insisted you needed to stay busy, although it didn't help much. On your lunch break you tried to casually walk by the main gate, the one near the stables, hoping to catch a glimpse of him returning, but you had no such luck.

So you went back to work. You kept your hands busy, tried to keep your mind occupied, but it was impossible.

I'll spend the rest of my life makin' it up to you.

You couldn't get those words out of your head. The guilt was weighing you down as you grew worried that was going to be one of the last things he ever said to you.

"Went on a date the other night."

"With who?"

"Cindy, from the kitchen."

Ricky laughed heartily and Andrew smacked his shoulder with the back of his hand.

"Shut up, man. We're on watch, we can't be giving ourselves away."

"It's the middle of the goddamn night and we haven't seen any infected in weeks. It's too cold for them, they're all frozen somewhere waiting to thaw in the spring," Ricky said, shouldering his rifle.

"Yeah, but still. You never know. There's more than just infected out there."

Ricky chuckled and shook his head. "Tommy telling you ghost stories again?"

"Raiders ain't ghost stories, asshole," Andrew shot back.

"And raiders never make it this far up the mountains, asshole," Ricky replied, mocking Andrew's tone.

Andrew grumbled under his breath and strolled away from the tower, towards the gate, his eyes scanning the treeline. He couldn't see a damn thing. It was pitch black and deathly quiet.

He turned on his heel and began the slow walk back towards the tower where he could see Ricky unwrapping a granola bar and pulling a paperback book from his back pocket.

Just as he was about to chastise him for letting his guard down, he heard twigs snapping in the woods. He whipped around, bringing his rifle up so he could get a better look with his scope.

"What the hell was that?" Ricky's whisper materialized in his ear.

"Dunno. Something's out there."

Ricky lifted his own rifle and scanned the trees as well, both of them holding their breath, waiting for another noise.

"Maybe-"

Then they heard more twigs snapping and pine trees raking against fabric. Louder this time.

"Fuck," Ricky muttered nervously, his palms growing sweaty inside his gloves.

"There," Andrew said lowly, and Ricky followed his aim. Something was approaching in the dark. Something big.

"I got it."

"No, just wait a second," Andrew said, squinting through the scope. Then his jaw went slack when he realized what it was.

"It's a horse."

"What?"

"It's a fucking horse, bro," Andrew repeated, his voice rising a little.

When it finally emerged from the forest, they saw the rider slumped over, covered in snow, their face buried in the horse's mane.

"Holy shit," Andrew said, slinging his rifle over his shoulder and racing towards the ladder. "Radio Tommy!"

"W-what do I say?" Ricky stammered, fumbling with the radio dial.

"Tell him it's Joel!"

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[sunkissedrafe]

okay but imagine innocent!reader going to a party with rafe and his friends and getting a little over served!!!

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

standing around a makeshift fire pit the guys set up because your short little dress doesn’t help much in keeping you warm. rafe and the guys circle around it too nursing their beers and talking about a bunch of manly topics you have no interest in, until…

“what about truth or dare?” kelce asks and the group enthusiastically agrees. your ears perk up at the idea, and you look up at rafe with your glassy doe eyes jumping up and down a couple times. “can i play too, rafey? love truth or dare!!!” he gives you a kiss on the forehead and a little nod.

the game is going so good at first, except they start take advantage of you as you down more of your fruity drink:(((

“i dare you to try and touch your elbows together.” one of the guys slurs out, and of course you’re determined to do it. you furrow your brows as you struggle to touch the two together, squeezing your hardest as they all watch your tits nearly pop out of your dress.

at first rafe just watches with an amused grin. he knows he has a ten for a girlfriend and he isn’t naive to the fact that all of his friends would pounce on you given the chance. it doesn’t matter that they look because they know damn well they’ll never touch.

“dare you to touch your toes without bending your knees, i heard it’s like… impossible.” topper chimes in with a smirk. rafe shoots him a narrow eyed glance as you bend over. his jaw clenches when you stumble and end up with your back facing the group, pretty pink panties on display as you grunt and eventually reach your toes. “think i did it! did i??”

“yeah, yeah alright. okay. you did it baby.” rafe pulls you back up and wraps his arm around your waist after tugging the hem of your dress back below your ass. you giggle and take another sip of your drink, so proud of yourself for completing such an impossible task.

you were feeling so warm and bubbly you didn’t even think about the fact that none of the others had been doing any dares!!

“i d-dare you,” one of the more drunk guys stammers out and chuckles, stepping closer to you, “to.. to see if you can unbutton.. my pants with y-your teeth.” he and the rest of the guys erupt in a fit of commotion, but rafe isn’t so amused!

“the fuck is wrong with you?” he shoves the guy back roughly, his broad frame towering over him. “huh?”

“cmon rafe it- it wasn’t even like that bro!”

“it wasn’t?” rafe speaks lowly and slowly steps closer as his friend cowers down. you watch with wide eyes as rafe’s hand reaches behind his back and to the waistband of his jeans, his fingers gripping the shiny metal gun he keeps on him. “you do so much as look in her direction the rest of the night..” rafe lets out his signature psychotic chuckle and lets go of the gun, using the same hand to grip his friends collar and pull him so they’re nose to nose. “y’know.. that big fuckin’ forehead you got is damn near beggin’ me to use it for target practice.”

he shoves his friend to the ground and clears his throat, grabbing a new beer from the cooler and cracking the top. he takes a sip and pulls you back into his side, squeezing your hip reassuringly. you beam up at him and he gives you the softest smile you’ve ever seen.

he glances back around to his group, but all of them are silent. the only sound is the wood crackling in the rusty barrel in front of you. “anyone else wanna play?”

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

taglist: @stepbrorafe @bunnycvnts @hewwokitti3 @pinkribboncoco @rafesgiirl @beautifuldisaster88 @mousie101 @laniirackssss @ditzyzombiesblog

[count-on-mi]

Mommy's little Boy Part 1 (Mina)

I lost my mother when I was young, and my father remarried Mina when I became an adult. Mina is just ten years older than me, she also had a pure appearance, a sexy body, and a noble temperament. As a virgin, I was full of fantasies about her, and would even spy on her having sex with my father while masturbating at the same time.

I found that the sultry Mina actually had a very strong sexual desire, but my father's old body could not satisfy her, and instead, he was gradually drained of her. Seeing my father being drained by Mina made me imagine how exciting it would be to be drained by Mina until I died.

At ten o'clock in the evening, I hid outside the door as usual and peeked through the crack in the door to watch Mina and her father having sex on the bed. I saw Mina lying naked on the bed, spreading her legs to reveal her pink pussy, squeezing her breasts with one hand, and playing with her clitoris with the other. Her moans came from the room intermittently, lustfully and seductively.

Soon, my father walked in with his upper body naked and only his underwear on his lower body. He climbed onto the bed, caressed Mina's plump breasts with his hands, and lowered his head to suck her nipples. Mina threw her head back and moaned, inserting one hand into her father's hair and pushing his head towards her.

"Well...Husband...come in quickly..." Mina begged.

My father stood up and took off his underwear, letting me see his short and slender dick. He put his dick against Mina's moist entrance, stretched his waist hard, and completely penetrated her.

"Ah! It feels so comfortable!" Mina screamed loudly, wrapping her legs tightly around her father's waist.

My father started thrusting hard, like an old pile driver, making a feeble thumping sound. His dick moved in and out of Mina's body quickly, bringing out a large amount of honey. Mina kept moaning, looking like she was enjoying it.

"Hmm...ha...honey, you are so good...fuck me harder..."

My mouth was so dry that I couldn't help but unbutton my pants, take out my hard and jerk it.

My father growled lowly and froze for a few seconds, then pulled out the limp dick from Mina's body. White semen slowly flowed out of Mina's pussy, soaking the sheets.

"Oh, why did it end so soon?" Mina pouted in dissatisfaction, "Hubby, are you done so soon? I still want it."

The father gasped and said with a red face: "Baby, Dad is old and can't keep up with your rhythm. Let's take a rest."

"No," Mina said coquettishly, "You've just warmed up, how about we do it again? This time you use this, I guarantee you will never fall!" After saying that, Mina took out a small bottle.

The father hesitated for a moment, then took the bottle. "What is this?" he asked.

"It's an aphrodisiac. It's imported from Japan. It's super powerful!" Mina blinked and said, "After taking it, you will immediately regain your strength, your dick will be twice as big as before, and you will be energetic enough to fuck me till dawn!" "

Hearing this, I couldn't help but shudder. Could it be that Mina is actually the legendary succubus? Will she drain my father dry until he dies? Thinking of this, my breathing became rapid, and my right hand unconsciously increased the speed of stroking.

My father hesitated for a while and finally plucked up the courage to swallow the pill. After a while, he felt hot all over his body, and his dick in his lower body slowly became filled with blood, swelled and hardened, becoming thicker and longer than before.

"Wow, that's amazing!" my father said in surprise.

"Of course, this is the latest type of special medicine." Mina smiled proudly, "Okay, it's my turn to take care of you this time."

After saying that, Mina turned over and sat on him. She took hold of her father's fully erect cock, pointed it at her pussy, and sat down. The cock directly hit her womb, Mina raised her head in pleasure and kept moaning.

"Ah... so big... so comfortable... so exciting..."

My father also let out a sigh of pleasure, squeezing Mina's elastic buttocks with both hands. Mina twisted her waist and moved up and down, letting her father's cock rub inside her. The room was soon filled with violent crashing sounds and lustful sounds of water.

The sound of "pop, pop, pop" was heard endlessly, and father's cock rapidly thrust into Mina's pussy, causing a lot of foam to come out. Mina's eyes were blurry and she uttered obscene words, asking him to fuck her hard and fuck her up.

Seeing this passionate scene, I couldn't help but speed up my right hand. Father's cock is so thick, if it were me, I would definitely not be able to satisfy Mina. I don’t know if it was due to the aphrodisiac, but he was able to fuck Mina as hard as a young man. Mina's cries became louder and louder, sounding like she was enjoying herself.

"Husband... your cock is so big... I want to be fucked to death by you... Ah... it's so deep... it reaches the entrance of the cervix..."

"Baby...you're so tight inside...it makes me feel so comfortable..."

The father grabbed Mina's slender waist and pushed upwards hard. Each stroke hit Mina's G-spot hard, making her scream again and again. Mina soon had her first orgasm, her pussy contracted violently, and waves of semen spurted out.

"I can't do it anymore...I'm going to go...Ahhhh——"

Mina's whole body trembled, her eyes rolled white, and her saliva flowed down uncontrollably. She fell off her father's body and lay on the bed twitching. Father did not let her go, but lifted one of her legs to her chest to make the angle of her vagina more vertical, and then continued to penetrate her from top to bottom.

"No more...let me take a break..." Mina begged weakly for mercy, but father ignored her and continued to thrust hard at a fast pace.

Mina soon had her second orgasm. She cried out father's name, her pussy tightly gripping the giant thing inside her. Father finally couldn't help but cummed inside her and let out a low growl. The two hugged each other and panted for a while, and then father pulled out his weakened cock. Mina's pussy couldn't be closed, and the semen mixed with her juice flowed out gurglingly.

Looking at the exhausted two people, I returned to my room with satisfaction. The beautiful scenery tonight was worth the price of admission, and I felt more excited than ever. Recalling the scene just now, I took out my penis again and started stroking it crazily. I imagined that I had replaced my father and was fucking Mina like a storm with my huge cock; I imagined how I would send her to one orgasm after another, and finally reach a double level of semen and water under my violent bombardment. break out. With a numbing sensation, I finally couldn't help but ejaculate.

At this moment, the door suddenly opened, and a naked Mina stood at the door. The blush of passion still remained on her face, and she exuded an aura of lust.

"I found you, pervert." She winked at me and slowly walked up to me.

I was so frightened that I wanted to escape but it was too late. Mina lifted up the quilt and roughly grabbed my newly ejaculated dick.

"It turns out that my perverted son has been secretly watching us having sex." She gently scratched my peehole with her fingers, and I felt a shudder. "It must be hard to be a virgin at such an old age, right? Do you want mom to help you take care of your physiological needs?"

As she spoke, she opened her mouth and took my glans in her mouth, swirling her flexible tongue around the tip. My scalp suddenly became numb and I almost surrendered on the spot. Fortunately, I held it back and didn't let her laugh at my incompetence.

Seeing that I didn't respond, Mina took a step further and swallowed my entire penis into her mouth. I felt that my cock entered a warm and moist place, and the soft oral mucosa wrapped the shaft, bringing an extremely comfortable feeling. At the same time, she kept sucking and licking by her tongue, giving me the strongest stimulation.

I quickly lost control and cummed it in her mouth. Mina swallowed it all with a gurgle, and licked my cock clean without wanting to finish.

"Well, it tastes good." She wiped the corners of her mouth, stared at me, and said, "It seems like you won't have to be so lonely in the future, right?"

I was stunned and at a loss. Mina jumped directly on me, pulled off my underwear, and then held my semi-soft cock and pointed it at her pussy.

"Come on, fuck mommy with your big cock."

As she said that, she raised her buttocks, and my cock slid into the ecstasy hole. I felt like my whole body was about to melt into this heavenly feeling. I could never have imagined that one day I would have incest with my step mother and conquer her mature and attractive body with my cock.

I started to pump my cock instinctively, while Mina moaned wildly and kept calling me husband, dear husband, good son, which made my blood surge. I pushed harder every time, hitting her sensitive spots hard every time. Not long after, she screamed and climaxed, and her juices poured on my glans.

"Damn, you're so tight… Your are good at pinching, you're going to pinch me out." I cursed, grabbed her waist and sprinted like crazy.

"Then cum all to mommy, mommy's womb is waiting for you!" Mina moaned loudly and tighten her walls again, "Hurry up, push harder, and cum all your semen to mommy!"

Amid her screams, I could no longer hold back, and with a low growl, I poured all the thick semen into her womb. I collapsed on the bed as if exhausted, while Mina leaned into my arms with a satisfied look on her face.

"It will be like this every night from now on, you know?" She blew into my ear.

Just when I was about to quit the battlefield and take a break, Mina was not going to let me go. She stretched out her slender fingers and gently brushed my sensitive nipples, and a tingling electric current spread throughout my body instantly.

"Haha, little cutie, is this going to work?" Mina bit my ear, her voice was lazy and charming, "Don't worry, the night is still very long..."

As she spoke, her hand moved to my crotch, holding my semi-soft cock and slowly stroking it. My cock quickly became hard again. Mina seemed very satisfied and moved her hand faster and faster.

"Ah...good boy...that's it..." She moaned softly while helping me masturbate, "Mom likes your big cock the most...it can make my mother die every time... ."

Hearing these obscene words, I felt my cock swell a little more. Seeing this, Mina sped up the movements in her hand, and kept rubbing my tips with her thumb. I soon felt a heat gathering in my lower abdomen, and my self control was lost again.

"Damn...I'm cumming again..." I warned her with a heavy breath, but she obviously wasn't going to let me go. She suddenly leaned down and took my cock in her mouth. The hot and wet mouth once again brought me extremely vivid stimulation.

I grabbed her long hair with both hands, pushed my waist up involuntarily, and pushed my swollen cock deep into her throat. Mina tightened her lips in cooperation and sucked my glans hard. I couldn't hold it back any longer, I groaned and ejaculated all over her mouth.

Mina did not spit out the semen in her mouth but swallowed it all. After swallowing, she extended her tongue and licked the remnants of my dick.

"It tastes good. It seems that I can look forward to a delicious breakfast every day from now on." She raised the corners of her mouth and smiled charmingly.

I lay on the bed panting, feeling regretful and a little excited. From now on, I will have my essence squeezed out by this goblin every day, and I don’t know if my body can handle it. But the thought of being able to indulge in a sensual paradise day and night seems pretty good.

While I was thinking wildly, Mina had already moved her hips and adjusted to a more comfortable position. Then, she lifted one leg and put it on my shoulder and used her fingers to guide my erect penis to her pussy dripping with semen.

"Come on, kid, feed mommy with your big cock." She narrowed her eyes and moaned lustfully.

I couldn't think anymore, so I could only obey my instinct, straighten my waist and put my dick into her. The warm and moist feeling enveloped me, and I couldn't help but start a new round of conquest. In this way, we changed countless positions, from the bed to the floor, and then from the window to the bathroom. It wasn't until the sky outside the window turned white that the heart-wrenching battle came to an end temporarily.

Mina nestled in my arms contentedly and fell asleep quickly. And although I was exhausted physically and mentally, I couldn't calm down for a long time. I couldn't help but smile when I thought about my dark sexual life in the future. Maybe this is the legendary dream come true, I hope I will never wake up from this moment.

When I woke up from my dream, the sun was already up to my butt. Mina was not around, so she probably got up and prepared breakfast. Thinking of all the crazy things we did last night, I couldn't help but blush. Suddenly, there were footsteps outside the door, and Mina opened the door and walked in.

"Good morning, son" She came over with a smile and kissed my forehead.

"Good morning...Good morning." I was a little embarrassed and didn't dare to look directly into her eyes.

"Did you enjoy last night, my dear?" She climbed onto the bed and straddled me. I felt something hot and hard pressing against my lower abdomen, and my eyes widened.

"WTF? You...why did you..."

"Hehe, don't forget who I am." Mina blinked, and her dexterous fingers had already begun to untie my belt, "I can make you ecstasy at any time if I want~"

As soon as she finished speaking, she had already taken off my underwear and opened her mouth to take my morning boner. I immediately fell into lust, raised my head, and moaned uncontrollably...

[chosok-amo]

SUGURUUUUU, DO SOMETHING : GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU.

you and gojo are insufferable, especially when gojo decides he wants to be annoying and tries to get under your skin. you always come running to geto and telling him to do something about gojo.

warning. established relationship! satosugu, annoying gojo, crack, fluff.

dating two people means geto has to face the reality that things are never going to go smoothly, especially when one of those people is gojo satoru. gojo is, without a doubt, the most chaotic, arrogant, idiotic, and downright annoying person geto has ever known. but somehow, despite all that, he still fell for him. what makes it worse—or better, depending on the day—is that you’re just as bad, if not worse. you challenge gojo at every turn, matching his energy with your own brand of chaos, bickering with him constantly, pushing his buttons just because you know you can. and when gojo gets too insufferable, you always end up running to geto, whining and complaining about how gojo’s being too annoying, like it’s the end of the world.

it’s like living with siblings sometimes. gojo is like the older brother who lives to annoy, constantly teasing and provoking you with his smug remarks and over-the-top antics. he’ll say something completely ridiculous, like how he's the strongest and therefore always right, and you’ll immediately fire back, crossing your arms and throwing in your own sarcastic comment, refusing to let him win. you’re like the little sister who refuses to back down, always ready to bicker, never letting gojo have the last word. and of course, you make sure to drag geto into it every single time.

“suguruuu, did you hear what satoru said?” you’d whine, stomping over dramatically to where geto is probably trying to have a moment of peace. “he’s being impossible again!”

geto would sigh, watching you pout like a child, before glancing over at gojo, who’s probably grinning like the troublemaker he is, arms crossed, loving every second of your frustration. this dynamic has become part of geto’s everyday life—being stuck between two forces of chaos, both of you feeding off each other’s energy, sometimes making geto feel like the only adult in the room. but despite the headache that comes with it, there’s something endearing about the way you two interact. you and gojo fight like siblings, but underneath all the bickering, there’s a bond that only makes sense in its own twisted way.

sometimes, geto wonders how he even manages to deal with it. it’s not like he signed up to play referee between two people who are more alike than they care to admit. but somehow, he’s found himself in the middle, always caught between your dramatic complaints and gojo’s smug responses. there are moments where he swears he’ll lose his mind—like when you both argue over something ridiculous, like who ate the last piece of mochi, or when gojo does something outrageous just to get a reaction out of you. yet, even in the middle of the chaos, he can’t help but feel a strange sense of affection for the both of you.

and honestly, you both love dragging geto into your mess. if gojo’s teasing you too much, you don’t hesitate to run to geto, complaining in the most dramatic way possible, arms flailing as you explain how impossible gojo is being. and if you’re being a little too chaotic, geto is often the one who has to rein you in, pulling you away from gojo before the two of you tear the whole place apart with your constant bickering. sometimes, geto feels more like a parent than a boyfriend, but he’s learned to accept that this is just part of dating you two.

there are moments, though, when the chaos dies down, and you and gojo fall into a rare moment of peace, and that’s when geto is reminded why he stays. because despite the constant teasing, the never-ending arguments, and the headache-inducing energy you both bring into his life, he can’t imagine being without either of you. sure, it’s exhausting, but it’s also what makes life with you two so full of laughter, even if it’s at his expense half the time.

GOJO AND HIS STUPID MOCHI

just like right now, you’re lying on the carpet floor on your stomach, phone in hand, scrolling aimlessly through whatever can hold your attention for more than five seconds. the room is quiet, save for the soft sound of geto flipping the pages of the book he’s engrossed in, sitting on the couch just a few feet away from you. it’s peaceful—something that doesn’t happen often when gojo’s around, but you’re savoring the moment.

that peace doesn’t last long, of course. out of nowhere, gojo saunters in, mochi in hand, and without warning, he kicks your leg playfully. not hard, but enough to get a reaction out of you.

“hey!” you shout, glaring up at him from your spot on the floor, annoyance already building as he grins down at you like the menace he is. he’s chewing his stupid mochi like it’s the most important thing in the world, completely unbothered by the fact that he’s just disrupted your peace. typical gojo.

geto rolls his eyes and sighs as gojo enters the room, immediately breaking the tranquil atmosphere that was there only moments ago. and of course, it’s gojo who’s behind it, kicking at your leg like a child trying to get attention.

geto watches as you glare up at him, annoyance evident on your face. gojo only grins back, chewing obnoxiously on his mochi, completely oblivious to the scene he’s causing. geto shakes his head, can already feel a headache coming on.

“what?” gojo says, feigning innocence, though that smug grin on his face gives him away instantly. “just checking if you’re still alive down there.” he takes another obnoxiously loud bite of his mochi, crumbs falling onto the floor next to you.

“ugh, satoru, stop being annoying,” you groan, dramatically throwing your phone aside as you sit up, crossing your arms in a pout. “can’t you eat somewhere else? you’re getting crumbs all over the place!”

gojo smirks at your annoyance, clearly loving every second of it. he continues to chew on his mochi, purposely making extra noise, just to get under your skin.

“what’s the big deal?” he asks, feigning innocence once again. “i’m just eating my snack. not my fault you’re lying on the floor like a lazy cat.”geto can’t help but shake his head at gojo’s antics. he’s seen this scene play out countless times, and he knows exactly where it’s going.

you groan in frustration, pushing gojo's leg away, though he just keeps nudging you, clearly enjoying how riled up you're getting. “satoru, stop being so annoying already,” you whine, glaring at him as he takes another exaggeratedly loud bite of his mochi.

gojo snickers, enjoying your annoyance far too much, like it's the source of his entertainment. he keeps nudging you with his leg, purposely annoying you more as he chews obnoxiously on his mochi.

“aww, what’s the matter?” he asks, still grinning smugly. “can’t handle a little noise while you're sprawled out on the floor like a lazy cat?”

gojo takes another obnoxiously loud bite of his mochi, crumbs falling onto the floor next to you, making a mess as he continues to torment you. he seems to be having the time of his life, feeding off your irritation like it’s some sort of energy source.

you squeal in disgust when a bit of mochi cream falls onto your thigh. “ugh, satoru, that’s disgusting!” you snap, wiping at the sticky mess, glaring at him with pure irritation. “can you eat like a human being for once?”

gojo just snickers, clearly amused by your reaction. he leans down a bit, his grin growing even wider. “what? it’s just a little cream,” he says, eyes gleaming with mischief. “no need to freak out.”

you huff, trying to wipe the cream off as best as you can, but it just smears, and your frustration grows. “you’re such a slob! and i’m not lazy, by the way,” you add, shooting him a glare. “i was just relaxing before you came in here, ruining everything.” gojo’s, eyes twinkling with amusement as he nudges your leg with his foot again.

he chuckles at your reaction, clearly loving how worked up you’re getting over the little cream mess. he leans down further, his grin practically splitting his face. “oh, come on,” he teases, “it’s just a little cream. it’s not going to kill you.”

he watches you struggle to wipe it off, the cream only smearing everywhere, making the mess even worse. he can’t help but find it amusing, watching you get irritated over something so small. “and relax, lazy cat,” he grins, nudging your leg again with his foot.

gojo continues to grin, enjoying how easily he gets under your skin. “aww, look at you,” he teases, “you’re so worked up over a little mess.” he nudges you with his foot, again, clearly trying to provoke a reaction from you. “what’s the matter, too lazy to clean yourself up?”

you glare daggers at him, clearly fed up with his antics. you try to brush the cream off your leg, but it just keeps spreading, making the mess worse.

“i’m not lazy,” you protest, frustration evident in your tone. “i was just hanging out, minding my own business, when you stormed in here and ruined everything!”

geto sighs loudly, shaking his head. this interaction has become all too familiar to him. gojo’s relentless teasing and your over-the-top reaction. he knows it’s not that big a deal, but somehow, the two of you always manage to turn the smallest things into a full-on argument. he remains at his spot, silently observing, wondering if he should intervene or just let it play out, like he always does.

gojo leans even further down, his face now hovering just above yours, his smirk growing wider. he knows exactly how to push your buttons, and he’s enjoying every second of it.“aww, are you pouting now?” he coos, his tone dripping with condescension. “do you need me to clean your leg for you, or are you actually going to get off your lazy ass and do it yourself?”

you narrow your eyes, glaring up at gojo as he hovers above you with that smug smirk. his teasing, as usual, has hit just the right nerve. but instead of giving him the satisfaction of a full-blown argument, you huff in frustration and shift your gaze to geto, your voice turning into a dramatic whine.

“suguruuuu,” you whining as you push yourself up from the floor, marching over to the couch where geto sits, his book still open in his lap. “satoru’s being annoying again.” you plop down on his lap, leaning against his shoulder, seeking refuge from gojo’s relentless teasing.

geto can’t help but feel a mixture of affection and amusement at your dramatic plea for his intervention. he shuts his book and sets it aside, wrapping his arms around you as you settle onto his lap, seeking refuge from gojo’s constant teasing.

his expression calm, though there’s a faint amusement in his eyes. “isn’t he always?” he says with a sigh, but there’s a soft undertone in his voice that shows he’s used to playing the peacemaker between the two of you.

gojo, still lounging on the floor, just snickers from behind you. “huh? running to suguru now? can’t handle me on your own?” he teases, clearly having the time of his life watching you pout and whine.

you roll your eyes, crossing your arms as you lean further into geto’s shoulder. “he’s insufferable, do something,” you mutter, as if that’ll somehow make gojo stop, but deep down, you know it only fuels his antics further.

geto lets out a weary sigh as he rubs your back. he knows that asking him to ‘do something’ is almost pointless—trying to stop gojo’s antics is like trying to contain a hurricane—but he still gives it a shot for your sake.

he calls over to gojo in a gentle tone, “satoru, quit tormenting her.” but of course, that only makes gojo snicker loudly with glee, clearly enjoying the chaos he’s causing. “aww, but it’s so much fun seeing her all riled up!”

gojo pushes himself off the floor and saunters over to the couch, a mischievous glint in his eyes. he plops himself down on the opposite end, intentionally sprawling out and taking up as much space as possible. “besides,” he smirks, “she makes it so easy. look at her, all pouty and moping around. it’s adorable.”

HERE’S COME THE HEADLOCK!

as you casually strolled into the kitchen, your attention was glued to your phone, scrolling through messages and notifications. you could hear the sounds of gojo and geto chatting, their voices a comforting background hum.

gojo, ever the instigator, couldn’t resist the urge to mess with you. as you approached, he feigned a wild punch aimed right at your cheek, but in exaggerated slow motion, he pulled back just before contact, ending up with a playful poke instead.

you tried to brush it off, rolling your eyes and continuing to focus on your phone, hoping he’d take the hint. but gojo was relentless. he grinned widely, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he repeated the act, pretending to punch and then poking your cheek again.

“c’mon, don’t be so serious!” he taunted, a laugh escaping him as he leaned closer to you. “just trying to lighten the mood!”

finally, your patience wore thin. you glared at him, annoyance bubbling up. “satoru, stop it!” you exclaimed, your voice a mix of irritation and amusement. “why are you like this?”

gojo, hearing the change in your tone, couldn’t hold back his laughter any longer. he loved this game you played, the back and forth of irritation and affection.

he stood a little straighter, a smirk spreading across his face. “what’s the matter? can’t handle a little teasing?” gojo asked, his hand reaching out to poke at your cheek again. “i’m just having some fun, princess. lighten up a little.”

as you dodged to the side, trying to escape gojo's poking fingers, you couldn’t help but let out a frustrated huff. “you’re so annoying!” you exclaimed, rolling your eyes dramatically.

but before you could fully escape, gojo was faster. in one smooth motion, he snaked an arm around your neck and pulled you into a playful headlock, grinning widely as he held you tight against him. “annoying? me?” he teased, his voice dripping with mock innocence. “never! i’m just making sure you know who the real boss is here.”

you squirmed in his grip, trying to push him away, but it was no use; he was far too strong. “satoru, let me go!” you whined, despite yourself as he tousled your hair playfully.

geto, watching the two of you from the kitchen counter, chuckled softly at the sight. it was the same old routine, gojo playing the role of the annoying yet endearing partner and you fighting a losing battle against his antics.

he continued to lean against the counter, sipping his coffee as he observed. his eyes glinted with amusement and a touch of jealousy— jealousy that he wasn’t the one holding you close, yet amused at how you never seemed able to say no to gojo’s playful teasing.

gojo held you in the headlock, still grinning as he effortlessly held you against him. he enjoyed the feeling of you squirming in his grip, even as you protested. “what’s wrong, princess?” he teased, his fingers gently tousling your hair. “can’t handle a little affectionate torment?”

he chuckled, enjoying the feeling of his stronger grip against your much gentler one. “just admit it, you love it deep down,” he said, his voice oozing with mischief.

you squirmed in gojo's grip, feeling the warmth radiating from him, and let out a determined huff. “stop it! let me go!” you protested, playfully hitting his arm with all your might, though your strength barely made a dent against his muscle.

gojo only chuckled, unfazed by your attempts to free yourself. “not a chance,” he replied, amusement dancing in his eyes. “i’m just giving you some much-needed attention.”

you pouted, trying to muster the most indignant expression you could manage while still fighting back a smile. “i don’t need attention from you, you big dork!” you exclaimed, but the way your voice cracked slightly betrayed your amusement.

geto, still leaning against the counter, couldn’t help but laugh at the playful banter between you two. “just give in, princess, it’s easier that way,” he chimed in, leaning forward to watch the two of you, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

“never!” you shot back, determined not to let gojo win this round, even as you felt an annoyance bubbling up inside you.

gojo smirked, clearly enjoying the game of cat and mouse. he could feel the fight slowly but surely leaving your body, replaced by the telltale signs of your impending surrender.

he chuckled at your stubborn refusal, amused by your attempt to hold out. “oh, c’mon princess, you know you can’t resist me. just give in and admit you’re having fun.” and geto, watching the interaction, couldn’t help but chime in once more, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “he’s right, you know. you always lose at this game.”

you groaned in annoyance, tilting your head back to look at geto with a dramatic pout. “suguru, do something about this,” you whined, exasperation dripping from your voice. “why do you always let him bully me?”

geto chuckled softly, his expression softening at your plea. he pushed himself off from the counter and sauntered over, feigning contemplation as his eyes flicked from you to gojo and back again.

he reached out, a hand gently tousling your hair in a comforting gesture. “oh, my princess,” he said, his voice taking on a playful tone, “don’t pretend you don’t enjoy the attention. this is just how satoru shows his love, in his own obnoxious way.”

gojo, still holding you in the headlock, snickered at geto’s remark. “hey, hey, i resemble that remark,” he said, feigning offense. “i may be obnoxious, but it’s all in good fun, and you both love it.”

and geto, still standing next to the two of you, gave a good-natured roll of his eyes. “yeah, yeah, we know,” he said, waving a hand dismissively. “just try not to torment her too much, alright? she’s delicate.”

you groaned dramatically, rolling your eyes as you tried to swat geto’s hand away from your hair. “his way sucks, and it’s so annoying!” you exclaimed, frustration bubbling up inside you. “why can’t he just be normal for once?”

gojo chuckled at your outburst, enjoying the heat rising in your cheeks. he didn’t let up on the headlock, still holding you tight against him. “don’t get your panties in a twist, princess,” he taunted, his voice dripping with mockery. “we both know you secretly love it when i get under your skin.”

geto, still standing nearby, couldn’t resist the opportunity to chime in. “oh, she absolutely loves it,” he agreed, his eyes dancing with amusement. “don’t let her fool you. she’d be bored to death if you suddenly decided to drop the teasing.”

you rolled your eyes dramatically, feeling the heat of embarrassment creeping up your neck. “oh, please, both of you can just fuck off!” you shot back, your annoyance laced with a hint of laughter. “it’s not cute, and i’m not bored! i’m just trying to live my life without getting headlocked!”

gojo, still holding you tight, chuckled at your outburst. he loved seeing you worked up, even if it was out of irritation. “aw, come on,” he taunted, his voice dripping with feigned innocence, “you can’t deny you love it when i get possessive.”

and geto, still standing nearby, gave a sarcastic clap. “and the truth comes out,” he teased, his voice filled with an air of smugness. “she’s just a little tsundere, that’s all.”

IT’S MY SPOT!

it was one of those peaceful evenings, the kind where geto, you, and gojo had nowhere else to be, and the three of you had finally decided to relax and watch a movie together. the sofa bed had been pulled out, ready for the cozy night ahead, but as always, you were taking your time making sure everything was perfectly comfortable.

geto sat back, his legs stretched out lazily as he watched you standing in front of the sofa bed, already busy preparing your spot between him and gojo. he could see the concentrated look on your face as you fluffed the pillows just right, adjusting them over and over until you were satisfied. then you placed your favorite plushies in their usual spots, one tucked against the side of the pillow and another by your arm, always close to you during movie night. next, you unfolded your personal blanket and placed it carefully under the larger one that you’d be sharing with both geto and gojo, making sure everything was exactly how you liked it.

geto found it all a bit amusing, how much effort you put into making your little spot as cozy as possible. he knew this was your ritual, and he’d seen it play out countless times, but there was something about watching you in the soft light of the living room, focused on creating your perfect space, that made him smile.

“all set?” he asked with a small grin as you finally stepped back to inspect your work.

you huffed softly, giving the blankets one last tug before turning around. “almost. i’m going to grab my fluffy socks and some snacks,” you announced, heading off to the bedroom first.

as you disappeared down the hallway, geto noticed gojo’s eyes subtly following your movements, an amused grin forming on his face as he stared at the perfectly arranged spot you’d just made between them. he chuckled to himself, shaking his head as he glanced over at geto.

“she really goes all out, huh?” gojo said, smirking. “look at that—it’s like she’s building a little nest in the middle of the couch. i mean, she's got the pillows, plushies, her own blanket... i’m starting to feel like i’m intruding on her fortress of comfort.”

geto chuckled in response, his gaze still fond as he glanced at the empty space between them. “yeah, she’s always like that,” he replied softly. “everything’s gotta be just right before she settles in.”

gojo grinned wider, leaning back against the sofa bed as he stretched his arms behind his head. “can’t blame her, though. i’d make a nest like that too if i knew how. it looks damn cozy.”

as soon as gojo eyed your perfectly arranged spot for a little too long, geto knew something was up. gojo's smirk grew wider, and before geto could say anything, gojo moved quickly, diving into your cozy nest like it was the most inviting thing he’d ever seen. he sprawled out dramatically, kicking your pillows out of place, knocking over your plushies, and pulling the blanket up around himself as if it were his own.

he let out an exaggerated, satisfied moan, stretching luxuriously as if he had just found the perfect spot in the world. “ahhh, this is nice,” gojo said, grinning like a child who just got away with something mischievous.

geto frowned immediately, shaking his head. “you know she’s going to be pissed when she sees you, right?” he muttered, watching as gojo made himself even more comfortable in what was once your perfectly prepared spot. “you just destroyed her entire setup.”

gojo snickered at geto’s comment, thoroughly enjoying himself as he lounged in the cozy spot you had specifically arranged for yourself. “oh, she’ll get over it,” he said with a wave of his hand, sounding unconcerned. “it’s not like the whole spot is ruined. there’s still room for her. probably.”

he stretched out his long limbs, claiming even more of the space for himself, making himself look extra comfortable. “and besides, this is comfy as hell. i don’t know why she always fusses so much.”

geto rolled his eyes, his expression somewhere between fond and exasperated at gojo's antics. “because that’s how she likes things,” he pointed out patiently, used to gojo's lack of respect for personal boundaries. “you know she has her rituals. you've seen her do it countless times.”

geto rolled his eyes at gojo’s indifference. “you’re such a jerk,” he muttered, shaking his head.

he couldn’t help but notice how comfortable gojo looked, practically lounging like a king in what was supposed to be your spot. “and can you stop spreading out like that? you’re hogging the blankets.”

as gojo made himself even more comfortable in your spot, geto couldn’t help but be amused by the whole situation. he knew you were going to be absolutely furious when you returned to find your meticulously arranged spot claimed by gojo, but there was nothing he could do to stop it.

he sighed, shaking his head fondly. “she’ll be mad, though, when she comes back and finds you all over her spot.”

gojo snickered, unfazed by geto's words. “oh, she'll live,” he said with a nonchalant shrug. “she can find another spot. it’s not like this couch is tiny. and if not, she can just share.”

he pulled the blankets up even higher around himself, snuggling into the comfortable spot like he had no intention of moving. “besides, with me here, i’ve already made this spot a million times more awesome. she should be thanking me, really.”

geto rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed by gojo’s antics. he knew exactly what gojo was doing— stirring up trouble, as always. “just don’t upset her too much,” he warned, although there was a hint of resignation in his voice.

gojo chuckled, unbothered by geto's warning. “oh, please. when do i ever upset her?” he teased, a cocky smirk on his face. “she loves me too much even if she says otherwise.”

geto shot him a skeptic look, knowing exactly how gojo’s antics always managed to get under your skin. “yeah, yeah. just don’t go too far. you know how she gets when you mess with her routine.”

and right on cue, your high-pitched, exaggerated whine echoed through the living room as you padded quickly across the wooden floor, your socks barely muffling the sound of your tiny footsteps. the moment your eyes landed on gojo, lounging all too comfortably in your carefully crafted nest, your face dropped in disbelief.

“satoruuu!” you practically shrieked, voice rising in frustration as you watched him ruin all your hard work. without even realizing it, you mindlessly dropped the bag of snacks you were holding onto the floor, the scattered contents only adding to the chaos.

“you ruined my spot!” you complained, rushing closer to the sofa bed, eyes wide with dismay. gojo, of course, didn't even flinch-his grin only grew wider as he stretched out even more, thoroughly enjoying your reaction.

geto chuckled under his breath, sitting back and watching the scene unfold before him. he had known this moment was inevitable, and here it was, playing out exactly as he expected.

gojo, not one to back down from a situation he’s created, only smirked wider at your outburst, enjoying your frustration. “oh, relax,” he said, lounging even more comfortably in the spot you had so meticulously crafted. “there’s plenty of room for you. join the party.”

you narrowed your eyes at gojo, clearly not amused by his casual response. without missing a beat, you climbed onto the sofa bed, grabbing your fluffy socks that you had planned to wear and immediately began hitting him with them. “that’s my spot!” you whined, smacking him lightly with each word for emphasis. “i made it for myself, not for your annoying ass!”

geto snorted, trying to disguise his amusement as you vented your frustrations on gojo. he knew deep down you'd been looking forward to your meticulously arranged spot on the couch, and gojo's intrusion had ruined your plans.

gojo, however, showed no sign of remorse. he continued to chuckle, attempting to swat away your attacks with your socks. “ow, ow, ow,” he complained in a mocking voice, “geez, take it easy! what’s the big deal anyway? it’s just a spot on the couch!”

gojo laughed, his smirk never faltering as he half-heartedly shielded himself from your sock attacks. “what happened to sharing?” he teased, clearly unbothered by your protests. he tilted his head towards you, his grin still infuriatingly playful. “besides, you didn’t say it was off-limits.”

you huffed, glaring at him before turning your attention to the mess of pillows and blankets he had created. “ugh, you ruined everything,” you groaned dramatically, tossing your socks to the side. “it was perfect before you decided to lounge all over it.”

with a determined huff, you placed both hands on gojo’s side and began pushing his body, trying to reclaim your spot. “moveee!” you whined, but despite your efforts, his stupidly heavy body barely budged an inch. gojo, still lounging comfortably, let out a low chuckle, clearly enjoying your struggle.

geto watched from the side, his expression a mix of fondness and amusement at your futile attempts to move gojo. he knew it was a lost cause, but it was entertaining to watch you try.

gojo, meanwhile, was having the time of his life. he smirked, feeling the weight of your pushes against him. “nice try,” he said, his voice dripping with feigned praise. “but you’re gonna need more than that to move me.”

frustration bubbling over, you let out a grunt and stood up on the sofa bed, glaring down at gojo. without a second thought, you lifted your foot and stepped on his thigh, giving him a few light stomps to really drive the point home. “moveee!” you huffed, each step accompanied by a demand.

gojo chuckled at your determined attempts to move him, but your stomps were far from effective. “aww, you really think stepping on me is gonna work? that’s adorable.” he replied, completely unfazed by your efforts.

he looked up at you, his smirk widening as he chuckled. “sorry, sweetheart, but you’re gonna have to try a lot harder than that if you seriously expect me to move from this spot.”

geto watched the scene unfold, his amusement growing as you continued to attempt to displace gojo from your spot. he shook his head in mock disappointment, leaning back against the sofa. “yo’re wasting your energy,” he interjected, a smirk on his face. “you know he’s not moving an inch unless he wants to.”

you let out an exaggerated, frustrated sigh, glancing over at geto with a pout as you kept stomping on gojo’s thigh. “suguruuu, do something!” you whined, clearly fed up with gojo's stubbornness. “he’s not moving, and he’s ruining my spot!”

geto couldn’t help but chuckle softly at your exaggerated frustration. seeing you stomp on gojo like an annoyed child was amusing, but he knew if it went on any longer, you'd get even more irritated. with a calm, easy smile, he glanced at gojo and spoke in a soft tone, “satoru, come on, stop annoying her and move already.”

gojo, however, seemed to be enjoying this interaction far too much. he continued to smirk as you continued to stomp on his thigh. “oh, cmon,” he chuckled, unbothered by your frustrated attacks. “it's cute watching her try to move me. she thinks she's actually doing something.”

with an exasperated groan, you got down from the sofa bed and grabbed gojo’s ankle, determined to pull him off your spot. “ugh, you’re so annoying!” you huffed, planting your feet firmly on the ground and tugging with all your might. but, of course, gojo barely budged, not even an inch.

gojo’s laughter rang out, clearly entertained by your failed attempts. “aww, look at her go,” he teased, resting his head back against the cushions. “she really thinks she can move me. it’s adorable.”

“stop laughing!” you snapped, your frustration only growing as you tugged at his ankle harder. “you’re not even trying to move!”

meanwhile, geto just watched from the sidelines, his amusement evident as he sighed softly. “satoru, don’t you think you’ve had enough fun?” he asked, though his tone was still lighthearted, knowing how stubborn both of you could be.

gojo smirked, clearly enjoying the scene he had created. “nahh, i haven’t had enough fun yet,” he chuckled, “watching her try so hard to move me is hilarious. it's like she thinks she's dealing with a regular guy, not the strongest sorcerer in the world.” he lounged even more comfortably in your spot, enjoying your futile attempts to move him. “come on, keep it up. i’m curious how long she’ll give up.”

you glared at gojo, feeling the frustration bubbling inside you. with an exasperated sigh, you threw your fluffy socks at him in a huff. “fine! you can keep the spot!” you exclaimed, your voice a mix of annoyance and defeat.

turning away, you plopped down on the edge of the sofa bed, your back facing both him and geto. you crossed your arms tightly, trying to stifle the feeling of irritation welling up inside you, but it was hard to hold back. the playful banter was fun at first, but now it just felt like you were being teased for no reason.

gojo chuckled softly, your display of frustration only fueling his amusement. he made a show of adjusting himself in your spot, lounging even more comfortably. “aw, she’s pouting,” he commented, a smug smirk on his face. “how adorable.”

geto, however, could sense the shift in your mood. he knew how much you valued your little spot on the sofa bed, and gojo's stubbornness was starting to take its toll. “satoru,” he said firmly, “that’s enough, you've had your fun. stop teasing her.”

gojo simply chuckled, unfazed by geto’s words. “oh, cmon, it’s harmless,” he replied, still lounging in your spot. “she knows i’m just messing around. no need to be so serious.”

geto's expression hardened, his patience wearing thin with gojo's stubborn attitude. “it’s not harmless when she's clearly upset,” he said sternly, “stop being a jerk and move already.”

your body began to tremble slightly as the annoyance and frustration bubbled over, and before you knew it, tears began to spill down your cheeks. you tried to hold them back, but the overwhelming feelings were too much to bear. it was like everything had built up and finally cracked open, and you couldn't help but cry from the sheer irritation of it all.

gojo's smug expression instantly melted away the moment he noticed your tears. his smirk faded, replaced by a look of surprise and even a hint of guilt. “hey...wait a minute,” he said, shifting his position to sit up properly. “don't cry, i was just messing around.”

geto, sitting nearby, instantly noticed the change in your mood as well. his expression softened, a look of concern replacing his earlier annoyance at gojo. “idiot,” he said quietly, “look what you've done...”

you felt the warmth of gojo’s hand on your shoulder, but all it did was irritate you further. with a small, shaky shrug, you tried to shake his hand off, turning your back to him as tears continued to fall. “don’t touch me,” you murmured, your voice thick with emotion.

gojo's hand hovered awkwardly in the air as you shook it off, and his heart dropped at your response. his teasing smirk had disappeared completely now, replaced by a look of genuine remorse. “princess, i... i didn't mean to make you cry,” he said, his voice filled with guilt.

geto, watching the scene unfold, felt a pang in his chest as he witnessed the sudden change in the atmosphere. he knew this was all gojo's doing, and he silently shot him an accusing glare.

gojo’s face fell as soon as he realized how deeply he'd upset you. panic flickered in his eyes as he quickly scrambled off your spot, frantically trying to put everything back exactly the way you had it. he grabbed your pillows, fluffed them awkwardly, and placed your plushies back, but everything looked off, far from the cozy nest you’d spent time making.

“look, princess, i’m moving now,” he said hurriedly, his voice shaking slightly with worry. “you can have your spot back, i’m sorry—really. i didn’t mean to upset you this much.”

he glanced at you nervously, trying to gauge your reaction, his earlier confidence completely crumbled. he wasn’t used to seeing you like this—tears falling, body shaking—and it made his heart ache. “i swear i was just playing around, baby, but... i see now i went too far.”

geto watched quietly from his spot, his accusatory glare softening as he saw gojo’s genuine attempt to fix the situation. though he didn’t say anything, he gave gojo a small nod, silently telling him that this was the right way to handle it.

as gojo sat back, giving you all the space you needed, he added softly, “please don’t cry, princess. you can have your spot back just the way you like it. i promise i’ll behave.”

you shook your head stubbornly, not wanting to face gojo right now. “no,” you said softly, your voice muffled as you moved to geto’s side instead— not the side where your spot usually are— curling up against him and burying your face in his neck. the warmth and comfort of geto’s presence calmed you, his steady heartbeat reassuring you that everything would be okay.

you could still feel gojo’s gaze on you, but you didn’t want to acknowledge it. you just wanted to escape the frustration of the moment and find solace in the familiarity of geto’s embrace. “i don’t want it anymore,” you murmured, trying to hold back the remaining tears as you clung to him, seeking comfort in the way geto always made you feel safe.

geto's arms instinctively wrapped around you, cradling you gently against his body. he held you tightly, his fingers running through your hair in a soothing motion. “shh, it's okay... there you go,” he murmured, his voice soft and comforting.

he gave another glance to gojo, noting the pained expression on his face. geto's heart ached as he saw how genuinely guilty gojo looked, clearly realizing the consequences of his actions. gojo remained silent as he sat back, his eyes fixed on the two of you, watching with a mixture of regret and longing.

gojo took a deep breath, his heart heavy with guilt as he watched you nestled against geto. he could see the way your body trembled slightly, and it made him realize just how far he had gone with his teasing.

hesitantly, he moved to sit beside you, his presence bringing a wave of warmth but also uncertainty. he reached out, running his hand gently along your back in an attempt to comfort you. “hey,” he started softly, his voice laced with remorse, “i’m really sorry. i didn’t mean to upset you. it was just a stupid joke.”

he watched your reaction closely, hoping to see some sign that you could forgive him, while his fingers continued to stroke your back, trying to convey his sincerity and desire to make things right. “please don’t cry. i promise i’ll behave,” he added, his tone earnest as he looked at the back of your head, hoping you could see how much he truly cared.

geto felt your body tense slightly as gojo moved closer and began to gently run his hand along your back. he could sense your confusion and the conflicting feelings that must be going through your mind.

he held you tighter, his embrace a silent reassurance that he was there for you no matter what. geto remained silent, letting you decide how to respond to gojo's apology, his chest rising and falling with steady breaths as he waited for your response.

you let out a soft, muffled protest against geto's shoulder, your voice barely above a whisper. “no, you ruined my spot,” you said, your tone still laced with annoyance. even as you clung to geto, the frustration bubbled beneath the surface, a reminder of gojo's earlier antics.

you peeked up at gojo, your eyes still glistening with unshed tears. “it was perfect the way i had it,” you continued, your pout returning as you tried to suppress a smile despite the situation. “and now it's all messed up because of you.”

as you spoke, you felt the warmth of geto's embrace grounding you, giving you the strength to voice your feelings. it was hard to stay mad when you knew gojo hadn't intended to hurt you, but the frustration still lingered.

geto's smile widened slightly as he held you, recognizing the familiar cycle all too well. he knew that on days when you were more sensitive, gojo's playful teasing could easily tip the scales, leaving you upset. it was a routine he had come to accept, a dance of emotions between the three of you that always ended in laughter and understanding.

he kept his arms wrapped around you, providing a steady support as you sulked against him. in that moment, he didn't need to say anything; his presence alone was enough to convey his comfort and care.

gojo's heart twisted at the sight of you pouting as you spoke, a mix of guilt and affection filling his chest. he knew how much you valued your little spot and how much effort you had put into making it your own.

he sighed softly, his hand still rubbing soothing circles along your back. “i know, sweetheart, and i'm really sorry,” he said, his voice filled with genuine remorse. “i shouldn't have messed it up like that. i swear i'll fix it. i promise.”

gojo couldn't help but wear a sheepish expression, even as he tried to maintain his playful demeanor. he shifted closer, his voice softening. “i really am sorry, okay?” he said, looking between you and geto. “i didn't mean to ruin your spot. i’ll make it up to you, i promise.”

but even as he spoke, he couldn’t resist adding with a hint of mischief, “next time, just make it a little harder to mess with, alright?” it was a typical gojo remark, but beneath it was a genuine desire to see you smile again.

you lifted your head from geto’s neck, a fire igniting in your eyes as you glared at gojo. the moment your gaze met his, a mix of irritation and affection bubbled up inside you. “you’re so annoying!” you exclaimed, hitting his chest lightly with the back of your hand. “you better fix my spot and make it up to me later!”

gojo, catching your small, half-hearted hit against his chest, couldn’t help but smile wider. he knew he’d won this battle. the sight of you pouting and hitting him was all too familiar.

he chuckled playfully, feigning a wince from your weak attack. “alright, alright, i will!” he replied, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “just give me a moment, princess. i’ll fix your spot and you can give me a list of ways to make it up to you later, how’s that?”

you let out a short hum, still sulking slightly as you crossed your arms and relented, “alright.” despite your annoyance, you could feel the warmth of his affection breaking through your frustration.

gojo chuckled, clearly delighted by your reaction, and repeated your words in a playful tone, “alright.” then, leaning in closer, he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment as he whispered another apology. “i’m really sorry for messing up your spot. i promise it’ll be even better once i’m done.”

you pouted a little more at the sound of your own words echoed back to you, but the feeling of gojo's kiss against your forehead was undeniable. it softened your heart, making it impossible to stay mad at him for long.

geto, still holding you against him, watched the two of you with a mixture of affection and amusement. he could sense the tension easing, and even he had to admit that seeing you and gojo making up was one of his favorite things to witness.

[jinxs-gf]

chuck’s favorite regular

jinx x bartender!reader

summary: it’s your first night working at The Last Drop. the stories of jinx being an…interesting customer are true

content, warnings: bar & drinks? jinx calls r ‘toots’, idk how much I like this writing style (bear with me now)

word count: 1.1k

a.n. this was requested but the ask disappeared 😭

It was your first night bartending at the Last Drop. Silco's bar. He owns a lot of them, close to owning all in the Undercity. This one just so happens to be special. Previously the Hound of the Underground's place. Now Silco proudly resides inside it.

Your future bartending partner, Thieram warned you about your boss's daughter. How she was a wild card and if you happened to get caught in her wrath there was no escaping until she decided to let you out. Not unlike a spider's web, you could only hope she'd let go and not eat you alive. To have mercy.

Though he insists Jinx has none.

He's...kind of right you decide. She's not done anything crazy yet. But she gives off this certain energy, one that screams be careful, to not turn your back on her.

She looks fairly innocent at the moment, at least compared to the bar that's in full rage. Loud music, dangerous games, dancing bodies...who could believe this is the girl that torments Thieram on the daily? Maybe she won't be so bad...

You’re contradicting yourself you realize. It's only your first time meeting, you shouldn't set your opinions on her just yet

She sits on the bar table, kicking her legs and looking at you expectantly.

You gulp, "Can I uh...help you?"

"Yeah you can, toots. Mind getting me my drink?"

Dammit Thieram. He didn't tell you what she orders. He spent so much time warning you about her yet he couldn't simply give you what she drinks?! What if she gets upset that you don't know and unleashes her-

"Earth to toots! Yoohoooo" her hand is shaking aggressively in your face, snapping a few times.

You stand in your spot, completely dumbfounded, eyes wide and pulse jumping.

"Uh...what is your drink?" Your voice is meek and careful (and a bit shaky), you felt as if you were poking a bear with a stick. Stupid stupid stupid.

Jinx cackles suddenly and very loudly.

"You crack me up, toots. It's only blood in a bottle."

She drinks blood?! Thieram! How could he not mention-

You try to be as nonchalant as possible despite your own blood running cold.

"So you're like a...vampire? Or-"

She laughs in your face once more, "Oh you poor thing," it's said quite mockingly, "it's a joke! You were totally convinced!"

You blink your eyes once, twice, and shake your head. As if it'll erase the image of a blood sucking Jinx. Your blood...from your neck. A very graphic image your mind unfortunately conjured up.

As if she wasn't intimidating enough, knowing she's loaded with guns and bombs at all times. Imagine if she was a vampire?! You'd be doomed.

However, you were curious now, what if she did have fangs? Maybe you could get a peek-

"My drink is the bottom cabinet in front of you. It gets a special place for Chuck's favorite customer."

Chuck?

You squat down in search for her drink, reach for the lone bottle, "Oh um, who?"

"Oh you've got to know Chuck! He's hilarious! A friend of mine, not my best friend of course. He's a little weird—you can tell him I said that."

You nod along, terrified of the blue eyed menace (one of the many nicknames given by Thieram, you agree. Though even thinking it worries you, what if she can hear your thoughts?). Speaking of Thieram—oh! That’s who she’s talking about.

"You two must get on well," if the man in question's stories were anything to go by, you'd say they didn't get on well. He doesn't enjoy her company, but she certainly enjoys his. By tormenting him.

You only hope you don't land in the same boat as him.

"Oh we definitely do, toots. Who’da thought a girl like me could befriend a scaredy-cat like him? I'd say we'd make good friends too someday. Maybe tomorrow!”

"What's that supposed to mean?" Because to you it sounds like a threat. If you become a good "friend" to her like Thieram is, does that mean you'll get the same treatment? And as soon as tomorrow?! You've barely worked at this place for a few hours and she's already planning on tormenting you by tomorrow!

She doesn't answer your question, instead pointing to (what you assume is) her cup. If the colorful scribbles were anything to go by. And a straw lying right next to it. At least you didn't have to go searching for those.

You nod, gulping. You're hoping to please her, not get on her bad side.

Jinx brings her feet up the counter, crossing and holding them with her hands, rocking playfully back and forth.

She’s dangerously close to the edge, one miscalculated move and she’ll go splat onto the sticky floors.

Maybe it’ll knock some sense into her? Okay that’s rude.

You quietly hand her the drink, plopping the straw in.

Jinx jumps down the counter to sit on the stool, hunched over the bar table to sip. She dramatically smacks her lips, as if taste testing. You’ll admit you were a bit nervous, what if you forgot something in her drink? What if you poured it in wrong the wrong way? Would she get upset over that?

After a few seconds she smiles and nods manically, “10 out of 10! You pour a good cup o’ juice, toots.”

You breathe out relieved, deciding to play along, a little humor could ease your anxiety surely, “Thanks, am I already better than Th- Chuck?”

"You're certainly prettier than he is."

"Oh."

You blank, unsure of what to do with that information. Be flattered? Terrified? Or is she being sarcastic? You continue to play along,

"Flattery will get you nowhere," you joke and only hope it lands.

"It'll get me a free drink," she wriggles her eyebrows.

"Don't you automatically get free drinks? I heard the last guy that asked you to pay mysteriously disappeared."

"You heard right, toots."

You gulp for the—how many times have you done that tonight? She's great at making one sweat.

“It was great getting to know ya toots, but I’m a busy girl. Gotta bounce—think you’ll be okay? Ya know what? You seem like you can hold your own, here—just in case!”

Jinx goes in for a rough hug, and it’s over before you process it at all.

But wait—what was that noise behind you? That sudden weight on your back…

Uh oh.

And explosion goes off on you, and for a second you think it’s over.

But no, it’s simply a colorful, glitter bomb. The damage is done though, you’re sweating at your hairline. And your poor heart, it’s practically begging to run out of your chest.

There’s a note left on the counter, is it too hopeful to think it’s a ‘sorry for the bomb I just planted on your back’?

Nope. It’s simply a winky face in purple ink.

And you can't help but wonder...is she flirting with you?

How sick and twisted.

first time meeting and already down bad for each other? hmm

the request:

Reader is a newly hired bartender that Silco hired. One night it's the usual busyness. Loud music, shimmer people, etc etc. Similarly to "chuck" Jinx enjoys fucking around with them. Little powder bombs and stuff like that.