#you can make this longer if you'd like. c: ]

[reformedmercymain]

So Marblr has found out the cause of the Cassidy mercy dodge glitch. There's around a 6 tick window (.096 sec) in which she can't be hit. This isn't something that can be controlled, however it explains times where mercy takes 0 damage via Cassidy ult (he has not been able to test other heroes & abilities yet, but it likely applies to many others, it's just most visible in clips of Cassidy ulting) He just started streaming on twitch this past week after having some success with his youtube channel, you may recognize videos from him like "D.va Can Heal Other Players (technically)"



Edit: He has since discovered that it is entirely based on the Cassidy ping, so the higher the ping of the attacker the higher the chance of it failing

[the-acid-pear]

There'd be essays about the way prison break deals with queerness from a in and out of universe perspective too. I won't write it myself someone else do it.

[chuluoyi]

✎ all of me

- gojo satoru x reader

you understand that some things in marriage just needs compromise. and he soon understands too, when you're at your most vulnerable and he fails to be by your side when you need him the most

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship (you're married & have a son!) argument, feral gojo, mentions of injury & blood, fluff

note: if it isn't obvious by now i'm in the mood of angst-hurt/comfort this week HEHE :)) this is longer than the usual love entry, so i hope you'll enjoy it!

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

Bantering with your husband is not uncommon―in fact, it happens on daily basis.

"Satoru― I'm talking to you!"

But having serious arguments with him is another matter entirely.

Your fists tightening at your sides, facing his unamused expression. How insufferable is he? You told him that everyday, but right now, he's truly surpassed previous levels of infuriating behavior.

"And I can hear you, sweetheart," he retorted, casting a glance your way. The term of endearment he used for you sounding almost like a sneer to your ears and you felt offended.

"I don't think you're taking this seriously," you griped, trying to calm your emotions, still balling your hands. "Someone is following our son on his way back from school―how can you be this... flippant?!"

Numerous photograph of your son exiting the school building from different angles had arrived in your mailbox, and if it wasn't a creepy warning from those who placed a target on his back, then you didn't know what it was.

Satoru let out an exasperated grunt. "I'm telling you, I'll pick him up for the rest of the week. No one will lay a hand on him."

You gritted your teeth. "And I'm telling you, they're trying to make you do just that. Even morons know not to mess with you― they're leaving hints, and you're taking the bait!"

Contrary to what you believed, Satoru felt just as worried as you upon knowing that someone might have marked his precious son, who was now six years old and had recently started attending preschool.

But this is where your approaches differ. You are always the cautious one, overanalyzing each detail, while he leans towards being impulsive, often resorting to brute force.

"Who do you think can stand a chance against me?" Satoru challenged with a real sneer this time. "Remember my words, wife, no one is going to hurt me, you or our baby. I'll end them where they stand."

"That's not the point!" you threw your hands in the air, irate. "Satoru, they're going to take advantage of―"

"Look, I don't want to argue with you." Satoru's gaze was hard on you, his tone clipped, and it made you stiffen. "His safety comes first— and you, of all people, should know I'd never let anything happen to him. You need to quit nitpicking and have a little faith in me."

"I know you are more than capable, but you are not―!"

And then he said it, and his words piercing through you like a knife―

"Don't compare me to you," your husband remarked a little too coldly. "I can do things you can't. Just rest your pretty head, I'll take care of the rest."

Nevermind that he blatantly dismissed your skills as a jujutsu sorcerer, nevermind that he totally didn't listen to you at all―he just went and made himself look like some sort unparalleled god, forgetting how much his hubris could actually take him.

And all these thoughts only made you angrier.

"So be it then." You tried desperately to hold yourself from shaking because you'd be damned if you showed it to him. "A word of advice, Satoru: beware of your arrogance."

With those words, you spun around, marching off toward your son's room, because no way in hell was you going to sleep with that obnoxious prick tonight.

But when you caught the sight of your baby scuttling away from the gap in the door, a fragment of your heart crumbled. Oh. He has seen it all.

In Gojo Satoru's mind, he is made of two things: a powerful jujutsu sorcerer and a family man.

With his immense strength, comes a certain responsibility. And with that responsibility, certain habits have formed. If you just took a few seconds to breathe and looked back throughout the past decade he'd spent with you, you'd know that in fact―

It was also his way to shield you. Satoru stands by the principle that you and his little boy must be protected at all cost, and he most certainly would pull all stops to do just that.

But frankly, he couldn't deny that he felt insulted by how defiant you were. Did you really think he would let anyone ever touch your―his―son? He wouldn't, they'd meet his wrath first and you should've known that.

Still, something akin to guilt nudged at his conscience as he lay alone in your shared bed that night. It felt strange not having you cuddling him. He felt empty.

. . .

None of your shampoo-scented pillow, none of your nightdresses, all of it replaced by a single photo hanging in the wall and the urn of ashes—

Abruptly, he jerked his eyes open, shaken from the most dreadful nightmare he had experienced—

Of you no longer by his side.

“Mama.” Your little boy looked up to you with his doe-blue eyes in the next day, his hand gripping yours. “I’ll be fine.”

You were accompanying him to the preschool. While Satoru had requested Ichiji to drive him, you insisted on tagging along to keep a watchful eye as well. You'd leave your husband to pick him up later just as he wanted.

“Huh?” you turned to him, tilting your head.

“I'll stick by Uncle Ichiji's side the entire time,” he replied in a murmur. “And papa will be picking me up too later. If there are bad guys, they'll get him first.”

You bit your lip, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you. Your boy witnessed your outburst last night and hadn't inquired about it until now, and even then, he was trying to reassure you.

“So… don’t fight.” His round, cerulean eyes then darted towards you, blinking hesitantly, causing you to catch your breath.

He looks so much like Satoru. At six years old, he was the spitting image of him, except his personality—he took after you in that area. It was as if your son was a softer, more innocent version of him. And your heart twisted, remembering your argument last night.

Don't compare me to you.

With a sigh, you bent down to be eye-level with him and managed a smile, holding both of his little hands. “I’m sorry… it was just misunderstanding last night, okay? Don’t worry.”

“…really?”

“Really. Mama and papa were just tired,” you tried to reason, a thin smile on your face. "It's going to be okay, just like you said, yeah? Papa will beat the bad guys out there."

“Will he pull through...? If they bring a knife, and he's just there laughing, they can cut him.”

A giggle escaped your lips at your baby's innocent wonderings, easing the ache in your heart as you recalled how Satoru humored him in so many ways.

You gently poked your son in the cheek. "Nah, do you remember what he always goes on about?"

He puffed up his cheeks in response, his expression turning sour as if combing through memories of hundreds of shenanigans Satoru had instigated to recall his words. You let out a hearty chuckle, finding him so adorable.

"He's strong, he's going to win. He always does."

"Oh. Mmm." Your son scrunched up his nose cutely, before looking away and squeezing your hand. A sincerer smile bloomed in your lips, heart melting at the sight of your growing munchkin.

You will protect him. And maybe you could patch things up with Satoru later that night. Maybe yesterday you were just too paranoid.

That was the plan... at least until your son suddenly screamed—someone wrenching him from your grasp. Without a second thought, you reacted, flipping the attacker away from you and him.

. . . and that was the beginning of how everything started to unravel so terribly that day.

"Gojo-san...! There's been an incident!"

He got that call right after he finished some things with Yaga. Satoru teleported to the preschool right away, only to be greeted by a scene of utter chaos.

Several teachers stood outside the building, and police officers were present at the scene. It was all a blur of cursed energy until his eyes caught sight of—

His little boy, red-faced and obviously in fear, was clinging to Ichiji, who was frantically making calls. Some teachers gathered around him were seemingly trying to coax him to speak.

He didn't waste a second to dash towards him, tearing through the crowd.

"Are you okay? Hey, buddy, what happened?" Satoru pulled him away from Ichiji and turned him over, crouching to his level to check for any signs of injury or harm.

And upon seeing him actually here, his son's eyes immediately welled up with tears, and Satoru felt a chill run through his veins as he broke into sobs, which quickly turned into heart-wrenching wails.

"Mama—! F-find mama—!" the little boy choked out through his tears, clutching onto his shirt tightly and crumbling in his embrace, thoroughly inconsolable.

Satoru's sharp gaze quickly swept over the scene, seeking any clues, while he tightened his hold over him. It was then he noticed traces of your cursed energy mingled with blood.

They hurt you.

"Hey, kiddo—listen to me, it's going to be alright, yeah?" Satoru said, gently pulling away to wipe away his tears, holding the boy's face tenderly in his hands. "Go with Ichiji for now, okay? I'm going to bring mama back, I promise."

He didn't need to be told twice. Your son is always obedient when it matters the most. He gave him a small nod, still shaking with tears.

"Don't worry," he flashed a reassuring smile and ruffled his hair. "I'm the strongest, remember? I'll get her back," he vowed once again. "She'll be fine. Wait for me until then, yeah?"

Ichiji was ready to leave as he had called for those in headquarters as backup in case anything were to happen again. Trusting him to keep his son safe, Satoru took off as soon as he could no longer see the sight of his son's tear-streaked face trying to watch him as the car pulled away.

"I won't repeat myself— where is my wife?"

Satoru wasn't playing this time. He skipped past taunts and just plain threats. These little fries, he thought.

The man he held by the throat was in a lot of distress. "Hyaaa! It's him! Please, please, let me go! I'm acting under orders!"

He then flung him across the wall— might have added more cursed energy than necessary.

At the moment, his entire focus was on trying to locate you. He couldn't let his mind wander to anything else; in fact, he didn't permit himself to.

It didn't take him long to piece together the general location of where you were through the residual of your cursed energy. They stationed several hooligans in this abandoned warehouse to stall him, but he got rid of them quickly and he could sense that you were close by.

"It's Gojo Satoru!"

"Run! Ruuuun!"

What a pain. They picked the wrong person to mess with, and Satoru's lips curled into a manic grin as he opened his palm, pulling them in—

"Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue."

Chaos erupted as the building collapsed around him. He hoped you would realize he was here and manage to avoid getting caught in the wreckage. He was sure you'd know though.

And true to his thoughts, soon he found you— blasting your attacker away with a powerful kick.

Satoru thought that you were a sight to behold, really. And he was about to call out to you when he felt it.

It happened almost in an instant. The way his heart dropped to his stomach, and how his body reacted, barely whispering the incantation for Red as he shot it at something lurking behind you—

At that moment, the only thing you were aware of was the foul stench of a curse. Time seemed to stop before the overwhelming force of Red expelled it away from you.

But before then, you experienced a searing, white-hot pain that scorched through your flesh and pierced your abdomen—

"Y/N―fuck―!" The voice that came from Satoru's throat was raw and laden with panic.

He pulled you against him protectively as you collapsed, blinded by pain. He immediately felt warmth spreading across his lower body—your blood was rapidly drenching his shirt, and he felt a shiver down his spine.

You held onto him tightly while suppressing your scream, feeling every bit of your strength drain away along with the dark crimson blood that poured out of you.

"―toru―" you managed to croak amidst the scalding pain, curling and whimpering in his hold.

"Hey― sweetheart, please―" his voice rang in your ears, as he pressed down on your wound. His hands were shaking, and you clawed at him and groaned in agony. "I-I'm taking you back now― You're going to be alright, yeah?"

The wound was beyond anything you had experienced before, causing you to cry out and gasp for air. It was almost as if something fried your insides. It was hard to stay conscious.

"I've got you now. You're going to be okay." His voice was coarse, as he hurriedly carried you out. And he tried not to let the full-blown panic take over him when your body went limp in his arms, your breaths slowing, head lolling in his chest.

"You're going to be alright! You hear me, sweetheart? You're going to make it. Our baby― he's waiting for you. I promise you, you're going to be fine―"

Perhaps he was trying to tell that to himself, because despite the excruciating pain, a wave of reassurance washed over you.

You were in the arms of the strongest sorcerer alive, what more could you possibly afraid of?

A special grade curse. They had actually unleashed a potent curse and likely aimed at him as their final card—until it veered off course and struck you, leaving a searing gash across your abdomen.

Satoru felt numb as he sat in the waiting room in his bloodied uniform. You got hurt so terribly right in front of his eyes, and all he could feel was this profound void that seemed to bore through him and pierced his soul.

He was supposed to protect you. He said it to your face that nothing and no one would touch your son, and it was in his wedding vows that he'd protect you with his life too.

And yet what happened?

If only he was faster. If only he was able to pull you to him and protect you with his infinity—none of this shit would have happened.

Seeing your face twisted in agony and smeared with blood made him feel sick to his stomach. Inside that OR, you hovered on the brink of life and death, and he was here, unable to do anything.

Satoru rested his head against the wall, feeling a sharp pain surge through his chest. He remembered waking up to your face every morning, the way your touches felt, and how you had brightened his world for the past decade. If he lost you now... he wouldn't survive it. He would wreck anything, everything—

"Papa!" and came his voice of reason. Satoru immediately discarded his bloodstained jacket by instinct, throwing it away before his boy could see it, with Ichiji and Megumi closely trailing behind.

His son crashed himself into him and threw his little arms around his torso, crying—and in that very second, the thump of his heart sounded louder in his ears. Somehow it felt like a knife that twisted his insides.

"Hey, kiddo." Satoru repositioned him so that he would sit on his lap and hugged him, patting him in the back. "There, there... it's alright, yeah? Mama is inside, she'll get better soon."

Your little boy pulled away and wiped his eyes, and Satoru chuckled as he helped him blow his nose. His child was incredibly adorable, and his actions mirrored yours to such an extent that it made Satoru's heart soften.

"Mama g-got hurt trying to... tell me to g-go..." the boy suddenly said amidst his quieter sniffles. "And... she s-said... papa— i-is strong and g-going to win..."

You believe in him. Ignoring the ache in his chest, only able to reply him with a "Yeah..."

Not long after, Shoko emerged from the operating room and informed him that the surgery had been successful, though you would likely need to have a one-week stay in the hospital for observation. He intended to move you to the VIP suite and stay the night there, but then he remembered his son, who was holding his hand.

Satoru crouched down and patted him in the head, fixing him a smile. "See? Mama is okay, but she needs to sleep here to get even better. Now you go home first with big brother Megumi, yeah?"

Your son adored Megumi and often begged you to let him stay over at his place, but this time he looked hesitant, fiddling with his little fingers. "Really? Mama will be home... soon?"

"Mm-hmm, the more she sleeps here, the faster she'll go back home, alright?"

And with that, his baby nodded and Satoru turned to Megumi with a nod. "Thank you for this, Megumi."

The boy whose life he had once saved on some sort of a whim, now grown up and shared the same concern he had for you, Fushiguro Megumi had never before witnessed his benefactor expressing such sincere gratitude for anything before.

When you came to, your body felt as heavy as lead.

The discomfort in your abdomen made you flinch, and you almost let out a groan until you turned to your side and saw him.

Satoru was asleep while sitting in the sofa next to your bed, dark circles evident under his eyes. It might have been your imagination, but his cheeks appeared to be slightly red too.

You tried to recall what had happened to you when it came back—you urging your son to run away as you let yourself being taken away, almost escaping from that warehouse, the flash of excruciating pain, and Satoru's stricken voice.

So he must've been here since last night. Any remnants of your disagreement seemed to have vanished, seeing him there with you, barely covering himself with the blanket, with a frown still marking his forehead even in his sleep.

You wanted to reach out to him until the movement sent a sharp jab to your stomach and you cried out a bit.

In that split second, Satoru's eyes jerked open, and realizing you were awake, his gaze locked onto yours. "Y/N—" But your strained whimper and expression told him everything. "Does it hurt? I-I'll get Shoko, wait—"

And then he hit the call button. Throughout it all, he kept a firm grip on your hand for reassurance. A few minutes later, Shoko arrived and examined your wound, subsequently administering painkillers to alleviate your discomfort.

"It's going to leave a scar," she explained grimly, showing the mangled skin where the curse had made its mark on you, and seeing that, Satoru clenched his fists.

Shoko sighed, empathizing with her friend's frustration. "It's going to fade with time, don't worry. You did well, Gojo. You brought her here quickly. Had you been even slightly later, there could have been an irreversible damage to her organs."

But your husband remained quiet, unable to bring himself to look at you. And after she left, you tried to finally voice your question to him.

"O-our—"

"He's fine," Satoru immediately answered, squeezing your hand. "Our boy is fine. I'll tell Megumi to visit later—he's with him."

A sigh of relief came out of you. "Thank... goodness."

But his expression seemed to fall even further after hearing your response. Satoru settled himself on the seat next to you and lowered the rail on your bed, allowing you to be even closer to each other.

"Do you not feel any pain anymore?" he asked then, gently tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. He looked so sad, a stark contrast of how he usually was, and it bugged you.

"No... I feel fine now."

"Then, can I hug you?"

Of course you nodded without a second thought, and carefully, he wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you close and resting his face on the crook of your neck.

You knew what it was. Satoru was still visibly shaken by what had happened to you, and he wasn't great at expressing himself, so he tried to find consolation through this physical closeness instead.

"I'm okay..." you patted his back, trying to convince him. "I'm alright now, yeah?" But to your surprise, suddenly his whole body started to shake. "Satoru...?"

“…’m sorry.” His voice was barely above a whisper as he nuzzled you. “I shouldn't... have let you get this hurt...”

It always amazes you how Satoru always gets this distressed whenever you sustain any injury. You had seen him cry precisely two times now—once after you gave birth to your son and experienced severe bleeding, and now.

"It's not your fault..." you whispered in response. "You... have protected me well."

He held you tighter, his tone faltering. "I didn't."

"You have..." you stroked his hair, trying to convince him. "I'm still here, aren't I?"

Hearing you say that made Satoru's chest ache. The thought of something like this happening to you was unimaginable, and now that it had, he couldn't come to terms with seeing you hurt right in front of him.

"Don't—" he choked on his voice, his breath trembled against your neck. "Don't ever put yourself in danger again. If something happened to you, I wouldn't be able to live with myself..."

You couldn't make that promise. Despite the pleading in his voice, you knew deep down that your son's life—and his—meant more, and given the chance, you would obviously save theirs for yours.

“Satoru... I love you, you know that, right?”

So you simply embraced him close, hoping that in this life, you would live long enough that he would never have to see you like this again.

Epilogue

"Papa, how do I become stronger?"

Satoru blinked when his son asked him that so innocently and curiously, taken aback as he led him to your private room later that afternoon. "Oh? What brought this on?"

His first and only son, a perfect miniature of himself, pursed his lips. "I don't want Mama to get hurt again..."

Satoru's heart warmed at his baby’s sincere words, and despite himself, he chuckled.

"What's funny?" his son leveled a glare at him. "I'm being serious."

"Well, aren't you such a good boy? Don't worry, kiddo, I'll teach you my ways~"

"What ways?"

"Well, no need to rush, pumpkin. First of all, you will have to harness your skills and then you have to be more like me—"

"Do I have to be like you…? Is there no other way?"

"—? What's wrong with being more like me?"

"Everything...?"

[lxnarphase]

want me to give you another one? ๋࣭ ⭑⚝

☾₊‧⁺...ft : gojo satoru + geto suguru + fushiguro toji + ryomen sukuna

☾₊‧⁺...cw : breeding kink, praise kink, spit kink, reader gets called 'mommy', dirty talk, teasing, overstimulation, satoru goes insane from pussy, suguru wants a girl this time, toji being in love with his wife, sukuna doesn't like when people insult his soon-to-be-wife, sukuna is dating single mom!reader

☾₊‧⁺...a/n : i really wanted to do the 'our baby is so cute, i want another one' 'yeah? you want me to give you another baby?' trope so here we are ❤︎ i couldn't think if i wanted to do others but if you'd like more please let me know ! ❤︎ also, the toji one ? is actually a sneak peek of a longer fic i'm working on ehehe

✧ g. satoru : it starts off with you nuzzling in satoru's arms as he watches tv. satoru notices that you began to get clingier after you put your baby girl to bed. every night, you would press against him as if you wanted to merge with him and he couldn't help but tease you about it. so when he feels you nipping his neck and your hand running under his shirt? when he hears you oh-so sweetly whisper, "don't you want to give me another baby, satoru?" into his ear? he's eagerly nodding, ready to do whatever the mother of his first baby wants. but instead of letting him on top...you climb over him and that look in your eye tells him everything he needs to know : he's fucked.

"baby, baby, baby, please," satoru whines, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. he feels like he has no control of his hips, he's so sensitive, but he can't stop fucking up into you. not when you're like this, practically buzzing with need and crazed energy. "c'mon, s'toruuuu," you purr, hands splayed out on his chest. "cum f' me again? please, honey, you only came once, 's not enough." the room is hot, both of you covered in a sheen of sweat. how long have you both been going? he didn't remember, he lost count of how many times his hips desperately pressed up, shooting his hot load into your wet, needy pussy. but you just wouldn't stop. not that he minded, but fuck, you were making him so brainless. he can feel his thick cum gushing out of you each time you lift your hips, dripping down his cock and balls, onto the mattress. "h-hah, it's so fucking messy," he groans, unable to stop himself from cumming again. "f-fuck me, baby, t-there's so much cum, y'r pussy is so fuckin' sloppy." you just won't stop milking him, your soft and wet walls massaging him as you moan just from the feeling of being filled up again. god, you were making him insane, what got into you— his eyes snapped up to you when he felt the wet drop of one of your tears on his chest. those pretty lashes of yours were getting wet with tears as he felt your thighs starting to shake, a weak moan leaving you. "c-can't," comes a pathetic sob, your hips desperately grinding down on his cock, moaning when you feel it throb. "c-can't stop, 'toru, 's not enough, i need it, n-need it so bad!" when you finally look at him and make eye contact, he feels like he's been shocked because you look a mess... "give me another baby, 'toru, i want another one, gimme another one, please—!" with no hesitation, his feet are planted into the mattress and his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest as he pounds into your dripping cunt, feeling himself cum just from the wail you let out into his ear. but he doesn't stop, he can't stop, not when his wife, his honey, his baby needs him to knock her up again so badly. "'m gonna give you whatever you want," he pants, his skin feeling like he was touching a live wire. "give it t'you 'til 'm empty, baby, gonna fuck you good, make sure it sticks, just like you, f-fuck, like y'want, yeah?" he feels you nod frantically against him, unable to speak from the way his cock drilled up into your pussy, tip kissing your cervix with each thrust. "y-yeah, you want that, you fuckin' want that, s-s'just take it, baby, let me give you another fuckin' baby."

✧ g. suguru : your son had just turned one so you and suguru let his nieces, nanako and mimiko, come over to have a little celebration. seeing the way you cared for the twins and your baby boy the entire day made him think. his son was still a baby and had a lot of growing, but he knew the kid would look just like him with a few of your features. he's always wanted a girl, and helping his sister take care of the twins as they grew up only made the desire stronger. the two of you mentioned having another baby at some point, but the rest of the week, all he could think about was trying to get you pregnant again, maybe give you a girl this time...who knows, maybe he could fuck you so good you'd have twins.

"aww...i know, i know," suguru coos, his hand pressing into your tummy. that condescending smile on his face just makes you melt under him. he's slow and methodical with how he fucks you, like he wants you to remember every vein of his cock, how it curves up just perfectly that it nudges that spot where his hand is pressing down and makes you keen. his smile morphs into a knowing smirk, his free hand rubbing your thigh. "you're such a pretty mommy, princess. do you know that?" suguru's so sweet, he's so soft, he's treating you like your the most fragile thing on the planet. he sooo slowly grinds himself into you, his hand giving another little push down on your tummy. he's so sweet to you, such a loving husband... but you know. you can see it in his eyes, the hunger and deviance swirling around in those purple irises. he's getting you soft and pliant, melting into the bed as he praises you where he knows your weak. "taking such good care of my baby, aren't you? ," he praises. his hand is so warm as he starts to rub up and down your stomach. "such a shame the geto genes are so strong in the men. however." your breath hitches when he pulls all the way out before shoving his cock all the way in down to the base. you can't help the soft moan of his name, watching him lean down closer so that he's right over you. "the girls in my family always look like their mommy. what do you think, pretty girl? d'you wanna try? want to see if i can give you a girl?" as soon as you nod, suguru fully leans over you, using his arms to hold himself over you and he really starts to fuck you. he's merciless, managing to keep that stupid fucking smile on his face as his balls slap against your ass. "she'll be so pretty, just like her mommy, so so so fucking pretty," he coos as if he isn't making tears drip down your face. he loves seeing his baby like this, so sweet and pretty for him. "okay, angel. 'm gonna give you another one, gonna flood this cunt alllll dayyy longgg."

✧ f. toji : toji never thought he’d get off on the idea of having another kid with you. yet here he is, dick hard in his sweatpants as he thinks about you carrying his baby again...how you'd start to fill out all over again, that cute chubbiness coming back, how he'd have an excuse to dote on you whenever you complained about the simplest of things. but god, did he find it attractive just seeing you be a mom to the kid he gave you. so when megumi tells you both what he wants for his birthday...“i want a baby sister,” he states bluntly. “but, i don’t want her to look like daddy. he’s ugly, i want her to look like mommy.” little brat. toji doesn't hesitate to let megumi have a sleepover with yuuji the next day, dragging you into the bedroom as soon as he gets back home.

“you want to give the kid a sibling, hm," he hums against your mouth, teeth tugging on your lower lip. you feel how hot the tip of his cock is as he rubs circles into your clit with it, smearing his precum all over you. "wanna have another kid with big, bad toji? tsk, poor cunt missed gettin' stuffed full of cum?"  you just hummed, a little breathless. your hand came up to cup his cheek, looking from his lips back up to his eyes. “mm, honey, you've gotta stop asking questions you know the answer to,” you cooed, guiding him down closer so you could press a kiss against the scar on his lip. “don’t you want me to make you a daddy again, toji? c'mon, knock me up, big guy.” after those words left your pretty little mouth, toji let out a laugh of disbelief, his mind instantly realizing that you, being a little minx, were 100% going to give him the worst breeding kink ever. he was going to give you what you wanted, what you both wanted. he was going to fuck you, fill you up with all his cum, and whatever leaked out? he’d make sure to push it back in, whether with his fingers, mouth, or tip of his dick.  toji easily flips you over onto all fours and lines himself up with your slit. when he finally pushes into you, he just lets out the most wrecked groan you’ve heard from him yet. god, just the thought of fucking you not just to feel good, but to fill you up, get you to take his seed deep inside to give him another kid? it messed with his head. you were almost too good to be true. each thrust he gave had you seeing stars, the thickness of his cock hitting every deep part of you. it was almost too much, but you didn’t want him to stop, especially not when toji started running his mouth. “shit, look at you, baby…takin’ it like a champ. c'mon, throw that ass back on me, mama, thaaaat’s it, good girl.” the sweet moans and adorable words of “gimme more,” “baby, please,” or “s’ too good, toj,’” only pushed him to get even deeper, to get you to cum so he could stuff you full. he coos when he sees you beginning to jolt up further on the bed, away from his relentless fucking. that's he knows that he found that sweet spot that would have you creaming in minutes. "tsk, you just never fuckin' learn, huh? 's always gonna be too much for you, isn't it," he huffs as his hand finds its way into your hair, tugging your head back to keep you from moving more. “hey. hey, nonono, don’t run away from it, lemme have it. you wanted this, you wanted your precious husband to fuck another baby into you, t'give 'gumi a little sister, s’ i’m gonna give it to you.”

✧ r. sukuna : it honestly is his fault this happened, he's being snappy with one of the parents at the birthday party of your son's friend. sukuna knew better, he should've just ignored the bitch, but the comments she's making gets under his skin. "she hasn't given you kids of your own yet? that's too bad, i would've let you do that as soon as you proposed," she tries to flirt, batting her lashes at him. it just makes him sick. did this fucker not see the way sukuna looks at you? "oh, you probably don't know if she's the one you want to mother your kids, right," the woman next to him says, putting her fucking hand on his arm and he shoots her the meanest glare. "not everyone is mother material, but i-" "hey, we're leaving," he interrupts when you walk up to him, slapping the woman's hand off him as he gently wraps his arm around your waist. "i texted yuuji, that's why he's watching our kid for the rest of the day. c'mon."

sukuna is devouring you, his mouth unforgiving as he runs his tongue up and down your pussy. he's pissed, the way his tongue laps angrily at your folds as if your pussy is the reason he's upset. "fuckin' bitch," he snarls, spitting onto your clit before sucking on it. "thinks she can talk to my wife like that." you shakily gasp when he finally, finally looks at you, the sharp anger in his eyes making you shiver. you can tell he's not upset at you, but seeing him so riled up and knowing that he's using you to get it out of his system does something to you. "you know your mine right? that you're stuck with me 'til the day we die," he asks you, his thumb replacing his mouth as he rubs firm circles into your clit. "i'm your husband. you're my wife. you are fucking mine." he's about to say something else, but he stops, letting out a heavy sigh, subtly shaking his head. you catch it though, you always do. "suku, what's wrong," you shakily ask. "y-you can...can tell me, baby, what's wrong? did something ha-" "let me get you pregnant," he says, his voice low but desperate. he's moved from between your legs to over you, and you can see he's so hard, the tip of his cock an angry reddish-purple. "don't you want to give our son a sibling?" your eyes widen, not expecting him to ask that. having a kid with him...honestly didn't sound that bad. and the way he called your son 'our'...it makes your heart flutter, and you can't help but give him a sweet smile and nod. "okay, 'kuna, we can start trying if you are sure. i'm still on birth control, but—sukunaaa!" he doesn't give it another thought, sliding all the way into you until his hips are flush against yours. he feels the way your arms wrap around him and scratch at his back, and as good as it feels, sukuna needs you to give him complete control. pulling your arms off him, he laces his fingers with yours and presses your hands into the mattress before rutting into you, the slap of hips against yours almost angry. "don' care about the birth control," you hear him growl, his eyes burning into yours. "'m gonna fuck you so fuckin' full of my cum that it bypasses it. it's got no fuckin' chance with how many times i'm gonna breed this cunt." the way he's talking to you, it makes your head spin and you know he feels how you clench down on him with the way he groans. "gonna fuckin' show everyone how good of a mom you are, gonna get you all swollen 'n' round with my kids," sukuna groans, feeling his tip kiss your cervix with each snap of his hips. you can't help but look at him with those big eyes, disbelief and infatuation swirling in them. he likes this look on you, you just look so fucking in love with him, and it's all for him, just for him, no one else, just fucking him. "yeah? y'like that? that i'm gonna have a lil' family with my wife? give you as many kids as you want, 'n' all y'gotta do is take my fat cock as i breed you 'til it takes."

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[jaegerbby]

➳ inculpatus

--͙[satoru gojo x female! reader]-͙-

╰┈➤ word count; 5800

╰┈➤ rundown; satoru is everything you want and more, it is time you gave him a little more of you.

╰┈➤ caution; virgin! reader (also described as having small breasts), established relationship, corruption kink, cunninglingus, size kink, cum eating, ball sucking (?), handjob, dry humping, fingering.

not proof read!

he is pretty, way too pretty for you to think properly.

"can i suck your dick?" satoru flinches once the words leave your mouth. he is perched on the quaint white sofa in your apartment and maybe you should not have spoken so loosely because his eyes slightly widen as he turns to you.

"sorry! it's just... you haven't tried anything with me." you unsurely speak, avoiding his gaze. satoru is respectful, overly so. you thought inviting him to your place would at least give him a hint without you having to spell it out for him.

sky blue eyes flit over your features before he licks his lips. they are so pink they look doll like. "i don't want to push you." he pauses. "because you're a virgin." while he does not admit it, it undeniably makes him hard.

"i'm not ready for sex but other things." you trail off, "you can do other things with me."

he jaggedly nods, his head feels dizzy after hearing you say he can have his way with you. "i'll do anything you want."

you perk up immediately.

"how do i get it hard?" he follows your gaze as you focus on his crotch. where the grey fabric of his pants are futile in concealing his bulge.

you are too cute. satoru surges forward to press soft wet kisses to the right of your neck before shifting to give the left the same treatment.

your breath picks up at his proximity, you feel the softness of his hair but it is a lot different in this atmosphere.

his large palm cups along your jaw. "you don't have to do anything. i could look at you and my cock gets so hard it hurts. it's worse cause these clothes are so skimpy." his gaze has darkened now, your mouth feels sticky with spit and your stomach turns in an unfamiliar way.

he grips your wrist to bring your hand onto his stiffened erection. "feel that?" he urges your touch along him, it feels hard, long and hot. so hot.

it does not take long before you are caressing him without any assistance, he puffs air into your face. "i didn't make a move cause i didn't want to scare you but i wanted to touch you. whenever you leaned over i saw your titties, i saw how small they are and your puffy nipples. got such cute tits, babe, wanted to suck on them so bad, would you like that?" you mewl at his low voice, his thumb strokes over your bottom lip.

"toru." his expression looks almost pained at how airy you sound, your voice is sexed out already. when you call him like that how is he supposed to stay sane?

he tugs the straps of your vest down, you practically writhe like a cock is in you as your breasts are revealed. you squeeze along his length, your little hand working him despite your lack of experience.

"i want to lick them up, see how much you squirm or if you'd cum from that alone. just from your little tits getting sucked" he paws at your chest, there is barely a handful for him to grope.

he tweaks your nipples, his eyes narrowing and his tongue flicking over his lip. he is so close you can see the sky within his eyes, the thickness of his lashes and the blush along his skin.

"you didn't wear a bra, what about panties? what kind do you wear, ones with little bows, pink, white? what's a virgin like you into? you keep your tight cunt covered in cute ones or do you dress her like a whore?" you moan at the vulgarity, your forehead leaning on his while you lose your bearings.

your pussy is a soaking mess and if you could, you would press your thighs together to relieve the ache that is building up the longer satoru invades your space.

your insides clench and clamp down, they feel like they are begging for something. satoru tugs your hand away from his heady cock and you whine.

"why don't you show me? show me what you have under those slutty shorts." he pinches at your nipple hard enough to make you wince, his teeth flashing as he smiles. he looks so pretty, far too perfect to be real.

your palm slowly strokes your pussy over your shorts, satoru's eyes hold yours before they flit down to look at you touch yourself.

his hands reach for your waist, bunching up in the fabric of your vest. he is so big and strong, his muscles flex and pulse. your fingers prod the waist band, biting your lip as you slip further in.

the soft skin of your pussy meets your fingers and the wetness pooling from your slit drenches them after. it is hot and syrupy. he can see bare skin where your hand keeps the fabric pulled taunt.

"i didn't wear any. cause you'd be here. i thought about you seeing my pussy through my shorts. did you, toru? when i answered the door or when i sat down did you see it?" he groans, rolling his head against yours.

you stroke down your slit, you are wetter than usually. you are so much wetter now than when you are touching yourself to the thought of him.

"you're driving me crazy. yeah i saw it. i saw your little cunt. you need to be careful, i'll start thinking you're telling me to take your pussy when you do things like this." you face contorts, satoru's hand trailing along your sides and his voice sounds like a wet dream come through.

you pump the underside of your fingers along your swollen opening. "i am, toru. it's already yours." your voice is all shaky and you do not sound like yourself at all.

you are all whiny and borderline desperate. you sound like you need to get fucked. you hurriedly tug your hand away to grip his face and press your mouth to his.

the slick from your fingers taints his skin and you hardly know how to kiss but satoru tilts his head to deepen it. he is a good kisser but you knew that already, you have kissed him before but never this exposed, never with this palpable tension.

he hums into your mouth, his hand cupping your throat as his tongue glides over yours. you feel like the saliva pools in your mouth, you suck on his bottom lip then you kiss him harder.

your fingers pull on his hair, your teeth gnashing. it is open mouthed and desperate. the kiss is all wet and sloppy and any time either of you pull back the other chases.

the other pushes forward to keep your mouths connected. wet smacks fill the room, his tongue claims every part of your mouth it already has and when you both lean back your chest is heaving

"fuck, oh fuck." you pant and your fists tangle in his shirt to pull him back in, your lips glide along satoru's, spit swapping and your cunt aching the more you kiss him.

you think you might give him your virginity this very moment.

his thumb strokes your throat, using his grip to draw you closer. your entire body is vibrating, you feel like every neurone in your system is firing off.

you whine, your mouth leaving his with a sticky smacking noise. "i think m'losing it." you breathlessly mutter, satoru drags his finger along your lips, smearing the saliva across the swollen flesh.

"i am too, you shouldn't have let me touch you. i won't be able to stop." you look so innocent, yet your hair is all messed up, your lips are puffy from kissing so aggressively, your cute little boobs are exposed and your pussy is so insanely wet, there is a wet patch through your shorts.

it drives satoru insane, how can you look like sin incarnate and still have innocence all over your face.

"i don't want you to stop." he groans at your admission, you need to stop before he is too far gone. you need to stop before satoru starts thinking about how the inside of your tight virgin pussy will feel. all hot, gooey and sticky. he just knows your leaky little fuck hole would take his shape so well.

he leans in to peck your lips, satoru needs to stop thinking. "m'not letting you suck my cock." you stare at him in disappointment. why are you doing that? satoru has half a mind to stick his cock in one of your holes and you are making it far too difficult not to.

his hands caress your hair, smoothening it down before he cups your face. he wants to bite your pouty lips and never stop kissing them at the same time.

"not today, not gna slip my cock in your tight baby throat and feel all those little muscles gripping me, no cause i want to eat up your pussy instead. i want to taste how sweet you are and stick my tongue in that virgin hole." your fingers paw at his body, feeling his hard stiff muscles beneath them. he tugs off your vest and you lay back as he reaches for the waist band of your shorts.

a deep sound rumbles in his chest when the material peels away from your cunt and he sees it for the first time.

"c'mon didn't you want me to see? spread your legs." and you do, without any fanfare. satoru's large palms coax along the back of your thighs before he cups under your knees to keep you open for his prying eyes. satoru wonders how long you had been thinking about showing him your hot sticky pussy.

he wishes you showed him sooner but he might have lost it since then. your cunt is dripping with slick, it leaks down your hole to your ass. you look all pink inside satoru wants to see it stretched around him, he wants to feel you gripping his cock and milking him dry.

"got such a pretty pussy, i'm lucky, so fucking lucky. my pretty girl is so gorgeous. look at this messy little hole, she's so wet, fuck." the tips of his fingers trail along your slit, collecting your wetness before he rolls your stiff clit. you jolt as he strokes your bundle of nerves. the mewl that escapes you is borderline pornographic.

he leans over to lap at your lips and then he is shoving his tongue in your mouth to roughly kiss you. his entire body is between your legs, he covers you completely. he is so big it makes you ditzy. he is hard and muscular all over.

when he is on you like this, all you can think about is how easily he could fuck you, it is all you want. you want him pounding into your pussy until you are brainless. he is so close he could take you right now if he pleased.

your hands tangle in his hair, trailing down his jaw and neck before you squeeze his broad shoulders. satoru moans into your mouth, propping his arm beside your head to crowd over you more.

your hips stuttering as he rubs your clit harder. you feel his bulge hitting the back of your thigh, hot on your skin beneath his clothes. you want to see it, you want to touch it.

"toru, i want to see you" a growl rumbles in his throat and he licks into your mouth. "take it off, please" you tug at his shirt, he does not want to stop kissing you. his expression is pained as he pulls away, hurriedly yanking off his shirt to reveal his narrow waist and the muscles all over his body.

you giggle when he shoves his pants down and almost falls over. he climbs onto you with an embarrassed smile on his face and blush coating his cheeks. "you laughing at me?" you hum. "cause you're cute and i like you." you brush the long hair away from of his forehead and wrap your legs around his narrow waist to tug him in.

when his covered erection meets your slit you both breathe heavily. "why didn't you take these off?" your finger prods the waistband of his boxers. your eyes are on his, the same ones that look like every sunny sky is held within them.

"i don't trust myself to not fuck you. if i take them off, you won't be a virgin for much longer." you shiver beneath him. that does not sound like a threat, it sounds like the solution to everything.

like something you need to keep breathing. satoru is big, every muscle in his body is defined, you can trace each one with your eyes. his shoulders, his abs, his biceps. you want to see how they flex and bulge when he is losing himself in your cunt. how they will pulse when he is fucking you.

he gropes your breasts, his tongue laving over your nipple before he sucks down on the perked flesh. your legs jerk when he thrusts his hips into yours. your stomach feels tight, you feel like there are too many butterflies within the small space.

your pussy leaks so much liquid it drenches the front of his boxers, it only makes it easier for him to hump away with your pussy. his bulky thighs are warm as they press into the back of yours to hold you open. satoru pants into your skin, you can see the ripple of his back muscles as he fucks his hips.

there are wet smacks of his cock colliding with your cunt, this alone feels so good, you know it would feel a million times better if he was actually fucking you. you want him to have you, you want the real thing. it turns your brain to mush, makes your cunt ache and your tummy tremble.

he is breathless when he kisses you, it is hard and sloppy. almost as hard as his cock grinding against you. it is thick and long, you want to have it in your hand, down your throat, inside you.

you never thought depravity would ruin you like this but it does and it is okay because satoru is the only one you will get like this for.

his hands desperately grip your cheeks and jaw. you moan as he pulls back to slam his hips particularly hard. hard enough to make your body jerk and your back arch.

"i want to eat you out. i need your pussy in my mouth, need to know how you taste." you whine, your nails dig into his nape, thighs squeezing on either side of his hips.

"anything, toru. anything you want." you mewl. the friction on your pussy has your head in a mess, more of a mess than the slick leaking from your untouched hole.

he presses his stuttering hips flush to yours, his hefty length digging into your cunt. "you don't know how much i thought about this, i used to rub my dick raw when i thought about getting my mouth on you. my tongue in you, wanted to smell and taste your pussy so bad."

he slowly kisses down your sternum, hands trailing over the heat his lips leave in their wake. his palms are so wide, just one spans your waist. just one covers the plane of your stomach. his mouth seems to water the closer he gets to your sex.

you tug your legs to your chest, your hands folded and resting over your mouth. you tense when satoru presses his nose into your slick and nudges the flesh. it is embarrassing, even after all you did, it makes you more flustered than you can explain.

"you smell like heaven, baby. fuck don't ever keep this cunt away from me." his tongue flicks out to lave over your buzzing clit and your eyes shut tightly. it is when he reaches your dripping hole does your body stiffen the most.

your toes curl as he licks you greedily, sucking at the sodden flesh. it is like he does not want to stop. he presses further, his tongue flattening over the expanse of your pussy as he licks it entirely.

"fuck, babe. your pussy's too perfect." his eyes flick upwards, they are blown out and predatory. he spreads your lips before wetly spitting a thick glob into you.

he drags it along your slit before plunging a finger inside. it is long and thick, a lot thicker than any of yours. you writhe at the intrusion.

"how am i supposed to fuck such a tight hole? won't be able to take it, i might just rip your cute little cunt apart." his mouth encloses your clit, sucking and licking as he fucks his finger into you. the pace he sets is fast and riveting, it has you moaning like a freaked up slut instead of a virgin.

you brokenly cry when he adds another finger and your insides are stretched more than they are used to. you can hear the soaked soppy noises of your hole being slammed into over and over, his slimy mouth on your clit.

it is so embarrassing. yet it feels so good, getting your insides stroked and having his mouth somewhere you never thought it should be made your entire body buzz.

his mouth wetly separates from your clit with a sticky pop. "you like that? yeah you do, got your pussy dripping all over me." he thrusts his fingers, deep and fast. like he has done it countless times before.

you dumbly nod your head, your insides squeezing his digits and your hips rutting to meet his movements. he pounds into your hole until the creamy liquid is dripping down his wrist and there are tears in your eyes. saliva webs in your mouth while you moan. he slowly pulls his digits out of you.

"you okay?" you hum, sniffling. your eyes trail along his glistening fingers, it is weird to think they were just inside of you. satoru looks at you as he kisses your abdomen, caressing your thigh before his tongue glides along your entrance.

the tip prods your cunt and you whine lowly when the hot slimy muscle finally sinks in, hips tilting at the strange sensation. he groans into your flesh, his jaw dropping to press deeper. the tip of his perfect nose nuzzles against your clit and your eyes flutter constantly.

your lids threaten to shut as his mouth drips saliva onto you and the muscle squirms within your gooey walls. the knot in your stomach pulls tighter and tighter, your thighs tensing at the sight of him bobbing his head between your legs.

your shaky fingers find purchase in fluffy white locks. the feeling of his tongue being pumped into you makes your mind go blank, it makes your mouth water and your insides tighten.

squelching sounds fill the room as he eats your cunt up. his tongue going so deep your vision blurs.

"toru, toru, toru." you did not realise you were moaning. blue eyes flick up to look at you, you who is so lost in pleasure your head is leaned back and your chest is heaving.

satoru thinks if he had to choose the happiness moment in his life it would be here, with you. you were intoxicating enough but having you like this meant he could never be without you.

your slick in his mouth drives him insane, he wants it on his tongue always, he could die happy if your pussy is the last thing he has. he sucks up your drenched hole before moving to your clit.

he laps at the mound, fingers filling your hole to replace his tongue. the faster he shoves into you the more you tremble, the more your body jolts and the tighter you grip his hair. they reach for his shoulders instead, nails digging into his flesh and it makes satoru think about you clawing his skin when his cock is buried balls deep in you.

your voice is all high pitched and whiny, your head writhes against the couch, hips bucking into his face. he does not give you a break, despite your moans being broken and shaky.

no, he slams his fingers into your creamy pussy, feeling your walls pulsing around him as he quickly thrusts into you.

your liquid splatters with the pace of his movements, his mouth alternating between sucking your clit and licking it up. your voice is all honey dew and dreamy when you cream.

satoru groans at the taste of your cum, still fingering your innocent hole as he laps at the evidence of your orgasm. your thighs tremble and you roll your hips into his face, breathless with the weight of your high.

satoru's jaw is covered with slick when he moves over you, his other hand still gently caressing between your folds after slipping out of your sensitive slit. "why do you know how to do that?" you mumble.

"i had to know just so i could do it with you." he flashes you the prettiest smile. you trace his jawline, your blurred eyes trailing over his messy hair, his lengthy lashes, his gorgeous eyes and the slope of his nose.

the pinkness of his lips is more swollen than usual and cum drips down his jaw. even so he lacked imperfections.

satoru pecks your cheek "you were so good, such a perfect girl." he presses his body flush onto yours, both of his arms hugging your figure.

your smile is flustered with his weight on you, you keep him as close as possible. you are overwhelmed in a good way.

you think you would do this countless times so long as it is with satoru. he buries his face into the crook of your neck and sighs softly.

"i don't think i could be without you." truly, he thinks it might break him. you press a kiss to his hair, your hand stroking down the toned bulked up expanse of his back.

"you'll always have me, toru." the sound that escapes him is something like a whine as he leans in to peck your lips.

"we should clean up." you slowly let go when he sits himself up. satoru's arm is resting along the back of the couch, one leg folded while the other rests on the tiled floor.

his dexterous hand adjusts his cock through his boxers. the thickness looks like it is struggling with the constricting fabric. your body feels lighter, the mess between your legs is a bit uncomfortable but you tug them to your chest and look at the male before you.

he is way too big, it makes you all tingly inside. like he could hurt you if he wanted to but he does not. like if he held you, his arms would be the most impenetrable fortress. 

"what do you want to do after?" he leans his head back, his eyes turn to you and his adam's apple bobs. he is looking at you but you are staring at his evident erection.

the thin material of his boxers does nothing to hide the girth of his aching cock nor does it conceal the wet patch from his pre cum.

"so shameless." he slyly smiles, he reaches to nudge your chin but his resolve falters when your gaze flits between his crotch and his eyes and your cute little tongue trails along the seam of your kiss swollen lips.

he hopes you do not say what he knows you will because satoru cannot resist you. not a single ounce of him has the strength to refuse you.

"toru, i can take care of you too." his smile slowly drops and his mouth dries. his eyes go dark and he tilts his head.

"yeah?" he sees your little hands bunch into fists before you perch yourself on your knees and you lean closer to him.

satoru wants you this close forever, to always see, touch and have no matter what. your hair frame your face and your lips pouts with your words.

"if you want to use my mouth or anything else, you can." you are temptation. you are temptation in the form of an angel.

satoru swallows hard, he shifts closer to you, hands cupping either side of your head. he kisses your forehead before nuzzling your nose with his.

"today isn't about me, we'll do it another time." your eyes flit over his features, leaning in to peck his plush pink lips. you grips his wrists, stroking them.

"but i want to do it now, i really want to see it." satoru breathes heavily. he feels like there is no air in his lungs.

"okay." it comes out soft, you are too good for him. "i just need you to put something on if i'm taking my boxers off."

his large palm trails down your bare chest "you're too pretty, you're everything i want and i don't trust myself to not take you." you slowly nod before holding his hand. satoru follows you without a question, he would follow you to ends of the earth without any hesitation.

your bedroom is pink where your apartment is white everywhere else, it is like you were hiding all the colour in here. it is his first time in your bedroom despite the countless times you slept over in his.

you have plushies all over your bed, the sheets are pink, your fluffy pillows are pink, your closet is wide open and all that meets the eye is pink. your laptop, headset, desk. it is all pink.

you leave him beside your bed and he sits at the edge with an increasingly painful erection making his boxers tight.

his eyes trail over your room and he has to adjust his cock again. this should not be a turn on.

yet something about you, a pretty little thing like you touching yourself in such an adorable room, getting fucked by him in here.

the thought of him pressing your face into these pink sheets and rawing your cunt with reckless abandon. it makes him lose his mind.

he winces as he tugs his swollen cock. when you come back into his view, pink lacy panties are covering your pussy and the matching bra that conceals your tits makes satoru groan.

you draw closer to him and his large palms caress your hips. "now i know you wear cute panties." he jokingly says but there is a desperate undertone in his voice.

when you kneel down, satoru thinks he might be too turned on to think. he wants to keep you to himself.

your hand strokes along his happy trail before teasing the waistband framing his deep v line. he gently grasps your wrist, preventing you from going further.

"we'll leave the blow job for another day, okay? you can use your hand, i'll tell you what to do." you nod yet your eyes look all hungry. his abs tense, staring at your face as he tucks his thumbs into his boxers and tugs them down his thighs.

finally having his aching cock unrestricted has him grunting. your expression is so flustered yet you are pressing your legs together to dull that burning desire at the sight of him.

he grits his teeth, you are staring at it, from the pinkness of his swollen tip, to the dip where his head meets his shaft. the hefty girth with veins trailing down it, there is one particularly prominent one along the underside.

satoru wants to make you feel every inch of it inside, he wants to make you take his shape. maybe he is thinking too deeply, he jolts when your mouth surrounds the side of his ballsack and your little tongue is laved along it repeatedly. "don't- ohmfuck. okay, okay." he pants, fingers curling into his palms.

you need to stop before satoru shoves his entire cock down your throat without any care that you are gagging and choking on it. the gasp that leaves him is way too shaky. his tip goes past your face, it is over the crown of your head, it is too big for you. he is too big for you but he cannot not touch you.

he needs you like he needs air. he hums softly, he should stop you. he really should but he cannot when you are sucking at his balls. your little hands resting on his upper thighs and your mouth is draining him of any self preservation.

"you like it?" there is a sticky noise as your mouth pulls back, so much saliva on his skin. it is even webbed in your mouth.

"mm, you're so big toru." hearing those words in your soft voice makes his cock ache. he should not, he really should not but he needs to see it.

"keep that pretty baby mouth closed." he cups the back of your head, gripping his cock and squeezing it tightly before he presses it into your cheek. he curses, burning it into memory as he rubs his mushroom tip along your lips. his pre cum looks better than any lipgloss you own.

his fingers tangle in your hair to make you look up at him. having pretty little you, kneeling in nothing but laced panties chips away at satoru's restraint.

"want you to wrap your hand around it, can you do that for me?" you hum, when he lets go your fingers take his place. right around his base, your hand is so much smaller and so much softer. your fingers do not even reach around the perimeter of his cock.

his breaths are all laboured and hard, "don't put it in your mouth, just lick the head." his thumb strokes your cheek and you lean closer. your squirming slimy tongue trails over the slit and satoru throbs against the muscle.

"fuck, baby, you're so good at listening." he grips your hand to guide you up and down his length. "squeeze it a bit and move your hand like this." pre cum dribbles and he lets you do it on your own. it is jerky and unsure but somehow your hand feels so much better than his. he leans back on his arms, his hips moving slightly, his chest heaving and his dick begging for release.

"am i doing okay?" you mumble, begging for praise, feeling the ridges of his cock along your fingers while you slowly stroke up over his thick head and down his shaft.

the liquid seeping from his tip glides down along the sides and collects on your fingers, making it easier to jerk him off.

"more than okay, pretty girl. you're perfect." satoru's hand tangles in your pink sheets, the other reaching to tuck your hair behind your ear.

"faster?" you tilt your head, you are like a puppy. the cutest one ever.

"if you want." he grunts, when your hand starts pumping at his cock more, his eyes roll back. the muscles along his thighs flexing, all over his body in fact. he cannot help but fuck his hips upwards to meet your movements.

he is leaking incessantly, it coats your hand and it sounds all sticky and wet when you rub his cock. satoru curses, he feels like a virgin, maybe it was you, maybe it was your hand on him but it made his stomach all tight and his cock throb with no control.

you stroke at his base with a vigorous pace, your other hand surrounding his upper shaft and moving much slower. he jerks, teeth gritting when your tongue laves over the pinkness of his head before you take it in your mouth. it is so warm and wet, it makes him lose his mind.

your lips rest right before his shaft and the second you suck, satoru tightly grips the sheets, his head hanging and his jaw dropped to moan erotically.

"baby, baby what are you doing to me?" his unsteady palm caresses the crown of your head, petting you like the sight of his cock in your mouth does not tear him to bits. like it has not thrown him over the edge.

he wonders if you can feel him pulsing against your tongue. he wants to know what deeper in your little mouth would feel like wrapped around him.

"you're so fucking good, holy shit. never felt this good before." he groans and your eyes meet his, your wide innocent looking eyes despite how he has tainted you already. you look too pure for what you are doing.

"fuck m'gna cum. gna cum, take your mouth off baby." his hips stutter, muscles jumping. his toes curl into the fluffy mat beneath you both. you are still licking and wetly slurping around his head while you stroke his cock. the heated muscle of your tongue laving at his slit.

satoru's never came this quick before. his lids keep fluttering, he cannot stop groaning. his mind is too occupied with the thought of cumming in your mouth to stop you though he knows he should.

you keep touching and satoru has lost it already. he does not realise he is cumming in your little mouth until your hands have slowed down and you are teary eyed with milky liquid dripping down your jaw.

he curses. satoru is so sensitive and you are swallowing, why do you keep swallowing?

"baby, don't swallow. fuck, you don't have to." your hands shift to rest on his thighs, your brows furrowed and your little throat still bobbing.

you lean back and strands of cum are webbed in your mouth, still connected to his softening member. it drips onto the rug beneath you.

you sniffle, swallowing hard while you gaze up at him. your eyes are all glossy and pretty.

"i didn't think it would be that much." you are on your knees, right in front of him with your belly full of his cum, looking like the sweetest girl in the whole world.

you are his, you are all his. you have to be.

he cups either side of your face, leaning down to kiss you hard. he tilts his head, his tongue gliding over yours and the taste of his cum heavy in your mouth.

he reaches under your arms to lift you into his lap, nose nuzzling yours while he hugs you close. you are so much smaller you tuck right in along his large frame.

"i like you too much." he breathes into your shared air.

satoru cannot get enough of you.

[a-mint-bear]

Make Me Yours

Male Yandere x Reader

Part 2: "Your One and Only"

"I just... really wanna put a collar on a cute guy."

You didn't even mean to say it out loud, but your best friend since middle school had always been super open with this sort of stuff. You've always been the first one she texts when a date goes really well, or really terribly. And a lot of your coffee meetups, like this one, devolve into her oversharing all the juicy details of her relationships.

"Oh wow." She nudged you with a grin. "Didn't know you had it in you!"

Unable to meet her eyes, you try to defend your stray thought. You remind her of some of the jerks you've dated, how their assertive and self-assured personalities had all quickly turned into a bit too aggressive and controlling. In certain situations, in controlled doses... that could lead to a nice time. But it's all fun and games until you try to explain away some of their worse moments to your coworkers and swiftly realize you're in "that kind" of relationship. You wonder if you give off some kind of energy that attracts creeps...

The thought of finding a guy who would not only let you take the reins but maybe even prefer you taking charge? It gave you a little thrill you're almost embarrassed to admit.

"Well, it's nothing to get all twisted up over." she shrugs, taking a sip of her iced latte. "You'll find the right guy that's into that kind of thing."

You smiled, she really was trying to encourage you with this, and it was oddly sweet of her.

"Oh, look!" she scooted closer to you, showing you her phone screen. "There's tons of collars you can get. You thinkin' like leather, classic S&M style? Or somethin' more cutesy?"

Maybe a little too encouraging, sometimes.

~ Somewhere very close by...~

His hands were shaking. Your words were playing on repeat in his head, drowning everything else out.

As if you weren't already perfect. He'd been so jealous of you meeting up with your friend, but if it made this conversation happen so he couldn't be too upset about it. He'd been trying to think of some way to make you his for so long... But being yours? Wearing something like that? Something that said he belonged only to you?

He was already yours. But a little proof never hurt.

. . .

It was late, and you decided to cut through the park to get home quicker. It was a pretty safe area, but you didn't want to be here any longer than you had to be. A few lights lit up the main path and you didn't see anyone else around.

But that didn't mean you were alone.

"Hey..."

You spin around to see... some guy. You'd never met him before, but he was... making A LOT of eye contact.

He was cute though. Soft, fluffy hair and piercings in his ears, his bright eyes poking out from beneath his bangs. And he had at least six inches on you, but not really an intimidating frame, a bit skinny too. The way he was looking at you was making you nervous, but you weren't sure if it was a "Oh, this is unexpected." kind of nervous or a "You're gonna end up in his basement." kind of nervous.

"You probably don't remember me but, uh...we had a few classes together last year and…"

He seemed really nervous himself, trailing off with some color in his cheeks. You tell him politely that you were sorry, but you didn't remember him.

"That's okay, uh..."

He was breathing kind of funny, his eyes still staring into yours. You asked him what he needed, hoping it would speed this along and you could leave.

He took a breath, and all you could do was stare, wondering if you should distract him and make a break for it.

"I... I've liked you. For a long time. It's like... like everything about you is just so... wonderful! Seeing you every day keeps me going! I was okay just watching but then... Sorry, sorry. I'm c-coming on too strong, I..."

He took a step towards you, moving like he was going to touch you, but you instinctively took a step back. He looked a little hurt.

"No, no please, don't be scared! I just... I thought it was the right time... I've been thinking about this for so long! I just wanted to..."

He dropped to his knees and the look in his eyes was almost...like he worshipped you. Like you were everything to him and nothing else mattered. It was a bit overwhelming...

"I heard you talking to your friend the other day. Not, uh, not in a weird way, I swear! I-it's just... It's all I can think about..."

He stared at you, a glimmer of something in his eyes. You could see a tremble in his hands, like he was debating reaching out for you again. But he was holding himself back.

Seeing him kneeling, looking up at you with a want that burned into you... It was doing something to you.

This was a weird, kinda scary, unbelievable situation. But it felt so...

Good.

You felt bold. Deciding to go for broke, you finally spoke again.

You asked him to tell you what he wanted.

You could see the tremble shoot through his frame, the smallest, quietest gasp when the your words finally registered.

"I want... I want you to look down at me, just like this! I want you to run your fingers through my hair and tell me I'm a good boy. Your good boy! I want to cuddle up to you and hear your heartbeat while you hold me, I... I want you to use me... I want you to yank my collar if I get too excited and tell me to behave."

He laughed softly at the thought, this guy was completely smitten.

"I want to be yours, if that'll make you happy..."

He reached into his back pocket, you heard the gentle clink of the collar before you saw it. It was like some kind of odd proposal, except he was down on both knees.

He held it up to you, his eyes clouded with a want that made your face feel hot.

So painfully slowly, you reached out for him, your fingers flinching back for a split second, rational thought desperately trying to break through. But despite all the reasons you could think this was completely crazy, you still wanted this.

You touched his cheek, and he didn't hesitate to lean into your hand with a contented, dreamy sigh.

The power he was giving you was... new, exciting, maybe a bit intoxicating. And he was offering it all so willingly, you wondered if this was all a dream.

"I wanna be your good boy..." His voice was soft but pleading, almost desperate. "Please..."

His smile was making your brain feel fuzzy, seeing him looking up at you like you were his whole world.

"Make me yours."

[kaiser1ns]

#. FALLIN' FOR YA

featuring 𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿 𝘅 ���𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 ıllı. togame jo, takiishi chika, umemiya hajime, endo yamato, sakura haruka, kaji ren

fluff. to say you have fallen in love is one thing, but to fall for him was something you didn't expect.

TOGAME JO

You found yourself on the rooftop of Ori, the headquarters of the Shishitoren gang, high above the ground, your heart racing as you glanced down. You had no idea how you ended up here or what possessed you to climb this high, but now you were stuck, paralyzed by fear.

"Baby, I am scared," your voice trembled as you looked down at Togame who had come to your rescue. It wasn't that high — you'd seen the way Choji jumped like a monkey, scaling the building in seconds. But you were neither Choji nor a monkey.

Your boyfriend stood below, his beautiful green eyes reflected calmness. A lazy smile played on his lips as he held out his arms. "Angel, just jump. I will catch you."

"That's even more scary. We will both get hurt," you protested, your heart pounding in your chest. He looked up at you, his smile never wavering. "Come on now, nothing bad can happen."

"Jo, do you understand that I can literally break mine and your bones?" you said, stepping back from the edge, taking a deep breath to steady yourself.

"The only thing you will break is my heart if you decide to stay there any longer," he said softly. You let out a big sigh, taking a few more deep breaths before finally deciding to overcome your fear. "Alright... On three."

He began to count for you, "One... two... three!"

With your eyes squeezed shut, you jumped from the rooftop, bracing for the impact. But instead of hitting the hard ground, you felt his strong arms catch you, pulling you into a tight embrace.

"Angel, did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?" he whispered into your ear, a playful lilt in his voice.

You were on the verge of tears from the fear and stress of the situation, and here he was, flirting with you. "I should have stayed there," you replied, burying your face in his shoulder, half relieved and half annoyed.

TAKIISHI CHIKA

You had never thought you'd develop feelings for Takiishi Chika. Yet, here you were, inexplicably drawn to the red-headed boy who had somehow let you inside his usually closed comfort zone. One day, you found yourself asking him to teach you some defensive techniques. Just in case, you told him, you ended up alone without him in sight, which will never happen.

"So I clench my fist like this and then I—" you began, mimicking his earlier demonstration.

Elbow strikes could be thrown sideways like a hook, upwards like an uppercut, downwards with the point of the elbow, diagonally, or directly, even during a jump. As you tried to attack him, he easily stopped you, his hand catching yours, of course he will stop you he is the strongest after all.

"Don't tighten your muscles so much, and don't squat like that," he instructed, his voice calm yet firm, you loved listening to him on the rare moments he decided to speak.

You nodded, resetting your stance. Determined to impress him, you moved faster this time, but your foot caught on nothing, and you started to fall. Before you could hit the ground, his hands catched your wrists, steadying you as your body leaned closer.

Your eyes locked, his gaze made your heart race, and you were sure you were going to kiss at any second. You had fallen for him, deeply, and there was no turning back. But then, he let go, and you landed on your butt with a thud.

"Ow," you muttered, rubbing the sore spot. "What was that for, Chika?"

When you looked up, he was already walking away, his back to you. First he makes you fall for him and then making you chase after him — a typical game of cat and mouse.

You scrambled to your feet, quickly closing the distance between you. As you caught up, he glanced at you with a sidelong look, letting out a sigh. Despite his cold behaviour, you didn't miss the way his hand found its place on your waist, holding you close. You may have fallen for him, but he fell harder for you ... but you didn't hear it from me, alright?

UMEMIYA HAJIME

You have always been close to the members of Bofurin, especially with their leader, with whom you had a strange relationship, you were together but at the same time you were not. Nothing was official, but everything was real — from holding hands to kissing eachother. Right now you are not trying to think about it as you help the first years paint. Perched on a mini staircase, you meticulously worked on the higher parts, lost in the rhythm of the brush strokes.

"You are doing so well, Y/N-chan!" A familiar voice interrupted your thoughts. You didn't need to turn around to know who it was; that voice was unmistakable.

"Hajime, you scared me!" you exclaimed, your heart fluttering, as he laughed at you.

"Oh, did I? I am sorry," he said, his tone teasing. You rolled your eyes at him playfully as he crossed his arms and watched you work, a smile adoring his beautiful and gentle face.

Turning around, you noticed that it had fallen unusually silent. The first years were nowhere to be seen. Confused, you asked, "Where is everyone?"

"I made them go to Kotoha to get lunch. You can't work while hungry," he explained, his eyes soft with concern. He always cared about others and that was one of the things you liked about him.

Shaking your head with a smile, you returned to your painting, stretching to reach the higher spots. Suddenly, the staircase wobbled beneath you, and you lost your balance, but before you could fall, strong arms caught you.

"My little shooting star~ I guess my wish came true," he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. Your cheeks flamed with embarrassment as you buried your face in his chest, the scent of him filling your senses. "What wish?" you wondered and asked him looking into his eyes, those beautiful blue eyes you could drown in as if you were in the ocean.

"The one where you finally fall for me!" you didn't know if he was joking or not, but even with that playful tone, he was completely serious.

"Is this how we are making it official?" you mumbled, your voice muffled by his shirt.

"I guess it is," he replied softly, his arms tightening around you. Here, in his embrace, was where you belonged, as you have fallen in the right place at the right time.

ENDO YAMATO

You stumble slightly as you walk, your heels clicking against the pavement as you walked hand in hand with Endo, his grip was reassuring somehow distracting you, yet you couldn't help but hiss from the pain in your feet. Those heels were a mistake, but they were the perfect finishing touch to your outfit. You curse yourself for choosing fashion over comfort, wanting everything to be perfect tonight.

"You okay there?" Endo asked, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. His voice was filled with genuine concern, sometimes it surprised you how much he cares for you, even for the smallest things.

"Yeah, nothing to worry about. It's fine," you replied, trying to mask the discomfort. He glanced at you with those thoughtful eyes that always seemed to be searching for something. "Y/N, I may be a very bad judge of character, but I know when a person experiences pain." His words were more of a hint than a statement, and you knew he was right.

You stopped walking, intending to turn to him and reassure him face to face. But as you twisted your body, your ankle gave away. You felt yourself tipping forward, bracing for the impact of the fall.

But it never came. Endo caught you, his tattooed arms strong and steady around you. "Careful, doll. Don't fall so soon for me," he teased, the mischievousness never leaving his eyes.

Your heart raced, not just from the near fall, but from the way he held you, the way you could melt right on the spot. You had always been unpredictable around him, your feelings a whirlwind that neither of you fully understood.

"Yamato," you whispered, looking up at him. His carefree personality masked a complexity you were only beginning to uncover. He made you feel loved despite him not knowing how to identify his own emotions.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly, his eyes searching yours as he wondered how you do the things you do? Why do you make him feel... like this? He had hard time recognising what's happening inside his brain and heart. He never understood the emotions people around him expressed because he thought it just was how he was meant to live — like a lifeless soul.

You smiled, your heart swelling a bit uncertainty, but there was nothing to lose this time. "I like you." you admitted.

He blinked, processing your words as if you were speaking gibberish. "You... really do?" he asked, the surprise in his eyes was genuine, and for a moment, you wondered if you had made a mistake.

"If I didn't liked you, I wouldn't have gone on so many dates with you," you repeated, more confidently this time. "I didn't mean to make things awkward, but I couldn't keep it to myself any longer."

His grip on your waist tightened slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. "You’re serious?" You nodded, your heart was about to burst out, "Yes, I am. I know you might not feel the same way, because dating isn't your thing. I just... needed you to know."

Endo's gaze softened, and the playfulness in his eyes was replaced by something deeper, something you had never seen before coming from him.

"Y/N, you have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say that," he admitted, his voice raw with emotion. "You’ve been driving me crazy, in the best possible way."

A smile spread across your face, the pain in your feet forgotten. "Glad to know that." He chuckled, "But I can’t have you walking around in pain all night," he said, glancing down at your heels. "Here, let me help."

You looked at him, puzzled. "What do you mean?" Without another word, Endo crouched down in front of you, patting his back. "Hop on. I’ll give you a piggyback ride. Princesses should be taken care of."

SAKURA HARUKA

It was Tsubaki idea to invite you, Kotoha and the first years to the biggest sleepover in the history of Bofurin. He treasured you like a little sister, and took a liking in the new students especially Sakura — the boy who proved himself worthy for the gang, and the boy despite his confidence in most situations had a peculiar inability to speak or act normally around you.

The night’s activities progressed, and soon everyone found themselves engaged in a lively game of Twister. One by one, players stumbled and fell, until only you and Sakura were left on the mat. Nirei spun the wheel and called out, "Left hand on red," signaling Sakura’s turn. He gulped hard, his eyes widening slightly as he realized the predicament. You were directly beneath him, your bodies precariously close. Sakura carefully stretched his left hand towards the red circle as your hand was on the blue one, his fingers brushing yours as he did so.

The atmosphere grew tense, heat radiating from both of you as sweat glistened on his brow. His face flushed with a rosy hue, betraying his nerves and the overwhelming proximity. Meanwhile, Suo watched the unfolding scene with delight, clearly enjoying the awkward dance of two fools in love.

Nirei spun the wheel again, as he announced, "Y/N-chan, left hand on green." You felt your muscles strain, you were in a push-up position and you had to turn your whole body to reach the green circle. Every fiber in your hands screamed with effort as you managed the turn, finding yourself directly under Sakura.

The eye-patched boy, ever the prankster, seized the moment and nudged Sakura’s leg just enough to cause a slight wobble. The sudden movement startled you, and before you could steady yourself, your hands slipped. The world seemed to slow as you fell, leaving you face to face with Sakura, who had caught himself just in time.

You found yourself caged between his arms, his face mere inches from yours. His breath hitched, his cheeks a deep crimson that seemed almost like a new shade to add in the red pallet. The warmth of his body radiated into yours, his bicoloured eyes locked onto yours — panic and longing swirling within them. His lips parted as if to speak, but no words came out, only the soft sound of his breath mingling with yours.

Sakura wanted to kiss you, wanted to know what's it like to kiss the girl he held feelings for ... He wanted you and was not going to be a coward about it. Just as he decided to bend down even less the door opened and Tsubaki's voice echoed around the room causing him to startle and lose his balance falling on top of you.

"Oh, my! I am sorry, did I interrupt something?" Tsubaki asked, genuinely concerned about the two of you, putting his hand on his mouth from the surprised scene he stepped into.

Sakura's eyes widened in panic, but you could feel the warmth of his body pressed against yours, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. Why couldn't he talk? His gaze, now tender and earnest, silently begged for understanding and perhaps a second chance, and pretty soon he will be able to express his feelings without a Twister next time.

KAJI REN

You were angry, extremely pissed to the point you just want to scream, throw something or someone in the pool, kill the next person who asks you another stupid question. Your nails dug into the flesh of your palms as you tried your best to stay calm. The one time you got Kaji to agree to go somewhere, some girls immediately flocked to him, even though he ignored them or politely said no.

You watched as he spoke to them, with their polite smiles, but there was nothing nice about them, only fueling your irritation. It wasn’t fair. This was supposed to be your time with him. You took a deep breath, trying to rationalize your thoughts. It wasn't his fault, after all, but it didn't make the sting any less sharp.

"Y/N," Kaji's voice pulled you from your thoughts. He had walked away from the crowd of girls and was now standing in front of you, his expression concerned, he's never seen you like this. "Are you okay?"

"Am I okay?" you repeated, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Do you think I'm okay, Kaji?"

He blinked, taken aback by your tone, as he was getting annoyed by the fact that you weren't telling him everything in the right context, "What’s wrong?"

"What's wrong?" you echoed mimicking his words, feeling your temper rise. "Do you really have to ask? Look around! Every time we go somewhere, you’re swarmed by girls. Can’t you see how frustrating that is?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, and you looking at his well-shaped body. "You think I wanted that? Stop with this bullsh—"

Your frustration boiled over. Without thinking, you gave him a hard shove, sending him stumbling backwards. Before you could register what happened, he reached out, grabbing your wrist to steady himself. But it carried you both, and with a splash, you were both in the pool.

The water engulfed you, the coolness a shock to your heated skin. You struggled, disoriented, trying to find the surface. Panic set in as you realized you weren’t as good a swimmer as you thought. Just when you felt you couldn’t hold your breath any longer, strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you up.

You broke the surface, gasping for air, coughing and spluttering. Kaji held you close, his eyes wide with worry. "Breathe, Y/N, just breathe."

You clung to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you tried to steady your breathing. He patted your back gently, his other hand cradling your head.

"You're so stupid," he murmured, though his tone was soft, almost affectionate. "Why would you do that?"

Your cheeks burned, both from embarrassment and from the closeness, as you realised how you are skin to skin. "I... I wasn’t thinking. I just... I was so mad."

You looked up at him, his eyes were judging you but it was out of concern, "I'm sorry," you whispered. "Listen, Y/N," he began, "Those girls don't matter to me. They never have and never will." He shook his head, his fingers brushing a wet strand of hair from your face, and you knew he meant it, otherwise you would have had fallen for him or in this case with him.

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work

[tac-the-unseen]

I love all ur blog sm!! Can I ask abt something with the slashers (specially Thomas <3) with an foreigner!reader that don't quit speak english very well and normally forget words?

(Sorry if something is spelled wrong, English is not my native language lmao)

Absolutely, I can!

And because the request didn't specify, this fic will strictly be about speaking a foreign language.

Sorry if this is inaccurate! I'm a native English speaker and don't know many who aren't. Sorry in advance!!

Slashers x Foreigner!Reader

Micheal Myers:

•This man will act like he doesn't care but in reality he's so intrigued. (It might be why you're still alive) 

•He’ll spend his time watching you practice your pronunciation and recognition patterns, like it's a movie.

•Is he a bit mean about it? Yes. Will he laugh? Probably.

•If you find yourself not knowing what certain words are and stumble around until you find the right word, You'd be surprised at how patient he is. 

•If you are very new to the English language he'll secretly get you flash cards and stash them into a place he knows you'll find them

•Despite everything, if you ask him for help, he will help. He might be mute but he can write and use TV to aid you.

Billy loomis & Stu macher:

•Stu is already romanticizing your language, but instead of using the actual name of your language, he calls it “Talking pretty to me”

•Billy asks if you want any text books or study equipment to help you on your English speaking journey 

•Both boys are a surprising help! Stuttering trying to articulate what you mean? They've already jumped in to, A) help save you some of the embarrassment, and B) give you time to think about what you're trying to say. 

•Someone making fun of you? They're either dead or a social outcast by the end of the week. 

•Are you struggling to remember a certain word? These boys are willing play charades until you figure it out. And they won't drop it either, Stu says ‘It’s bad to give up when you've already come so far.’ 

•Over all it's not so bad (Stu 100,000,000% uses Google translate to figure out how to say ‘i love you’ in your native language) 

Thomas Hewitt:

•When both of you met, he had never met an actual foreigner before.

•He knew people travel around and occasionally some valley girl would end up in their small town, But someone from a whole different part of the world?

•His interest in you spiked the moment he heard your accent 

•Thomas has so many questions but doesn't know how to ask you

•With him being mute and your struggles with English, It's not the easiest relationship. In the end both of you just end up pointing at things and making noises to get your point across. 

•Absolutely loves to listen to you speak in your native language, Even if he'll never understand it. 

•When he's first trying to court you, he leaves you slightly damaged flowers (he struggled to pick them) to communicate his affection. 

•even with a language barrier, he's gonna love you like no one ever could 

Bubba Sawyer:

•He had no idea people outside of America existed 

•When You fell into the palm of Texas and his brothers found you failing to remember the word for your favorite snack, They knew you would be an easy target.

•When they kidnapped you and brought you to the basement so Bubba could chop you up, he was fascinated by the way you desperately tried to beg him not to kill you. 

•It ended in a huge fight in the family, But he got everyone to let you live a bit longer.

•Sits Criss Cross applesauce while you speak for your life. You could babble about anything and he would listen intently. 

•He pulls out his alphabet soup machine and spends hours typing with you. (You help him finally get past the clown level)

Bo Sinclair:

•absolute meanie, stinky poopy head about it >:(

•will mock your stutters and say stuff like “Oh come ON! The word is Cat! C. A. T. CAT! What's so hard about that?” 

•If you speak your native language around him, He thinks you're insulting him or intentionally hiding something. 

•”If you could say it to my face in your language you can say it to my face again in mine!”

•The same sentiment is not shared when it involves bedroom fun

•Will eventually apologize, But that's going to take a while 

Vincent Sinclair:

•As another non-speaking fellow he takes his time to make sure you two can understand each other 

•He’ll mostly use body language and and little doodles to get his point across 

•Stuttering over a word? He doesn't care, he'll let you work it out without any judgment!

•Want his help? He has several books, Vincent will just pull out a book he knows as the word in it, flipped to the page, and point at the word. 

•Love listening to you talk, In English or not. He'll happily let you yap his ear off. 

Lester Sinclair:

•Poor boy was lovestruck when he first heard you talk!

•Full on heart eyes while you explain where you're from and how you ended up here 

•If you end up fumbling on a word he'll start shouting out potential words for what you're trying to say. 

•Example: “and then I had too…uh…um..” “Run? Pee? Eat? Were you hungry? Are you hungry right now?” 

•So helpful, I know

•But the guy is already googling restaurants based off your native cuisine. He's got the date set up. 

•”It's no biggie, I'm a native English speaker and I still can't get it right!” 

Billy Lenz:

•Billy 100% understands the struggle of finding the right word to say 

•He can't stop stuttering himself, so when you start stuttering you kind of reinforce us in his brain that you were meant to be together 

•He feels like he can bond with you over it, and even feel safer around you knowing that you also mess up 

•the thing is if you start stuttering, he'll start stuttering. If you can't get it by God he will.

•”W-we can't bo-oth be wrong.” 

Brahms Heelshire:

•this man will 100% try to learn your language as soon as he finds out you're a foreigner

•That man has a huge library, there's bound to be at least one book written in your mother tongue 

•He spends a lot of time practicing your native language so he can speak to you more comfortably

•You already know he has children's learning books he'll pull out if you ask. 

•Can't find the word you're looking for? He's already 10 books deep, he'll find it for you. 

•Brahms is a well-educated man and he intends to use His years of learning to help 

•If you want to take classes to better your English skills he will 100,000% throw money your way to do so.

Hannibal Lecter:

•Now Hannibal really understands 

•He's a Lithuanian who learned English as a 10 year old

•He didn't struggle as much, But for the first couple of months you bet he was stumbling. 

•If you're struggling with a word, He has a process of teaching you so you don't forget it again. 

1) Identify what you're trying to say 

2)Slowly begin to sound out the word 

3)Have you recite the word a few times 

4)He'll either teaches you a little tune to remember or he'll do something so you remember the moment 

•Does it feel a little condescending? Yes. But it works 

•He's also willing to pour an ungodly amount of money into your English education if you ask 

•He'll even teach you himself in his spare time

Will Graham:

•Doesn't really know what to do, He's a bit awkward about it 

•He'll also identify the word and repeat it a few times so you can get a better handle on it.

•He thinks it's a bit funny and a bit cute when you stutter or mispronounce something 

•He will gently correct you and move on like nothing happened 

The Lost Boys:

•holy fucking shit this is a cluster fuck, let's do this one by one 

•David

-David, having been around a while, has picked up a couple languages.

-If he does know the language you're speaking he'll speak it back to you and guide you into English better than the other boys could 

-If not, he'll just read your mind and tell you what you're trying to say. It's by far the easiest way to articulate what you mean. 

•Dwayne

-Dwayne being just slightly younger than David has also picked up a couple languages 

-It's really the same if he does know your language But with a little more verbal teaching 

-If he doesn't he'll patiently wait until you figure out what you're trying to say. 

•Paul

-as soon as you start to stutter over yourself Paul starts shotgunning words off 

-some slightly related to the situation and others wildly out there 

-”Drink? Food? Ocean? Horse? The unforgiving eyes of God and His kingdom???” 

-he'll do this to confuse you and have a nice laugh 

•Marko

-Marko speaks English and Italian, so if your language isn't one of those two you're kind of shit out of luck 

-”Come on babe, you'll get it” 

-He finds it a bit funny but still tries to help in little ways 

Thanks for reading <3

Sorry if this seems hastily written together, I haven't had the request in a while so I kind of jumped at the opportunity.

[lostfracturess]

not so haunted house — satoru gojo

pairing — professor gojo x female reader

summary — satoru's on a mission to get you into the halloween spirit, and he won't take no for an answer. he's taken you to the town's spooky festival, and plying you with every sugary treat and pumpkin spiced sugary drink he can find. but you draw the line with the haunted house. but knowing satoru, he'll find a way to make it happen.

word count — 4.6 k

warnings — 18+ ONLY. contains explicit sexual content, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, friends), penetration, public setting, chance of getting caught, oral (male receiving), satoru gojo is always his own warning.

author's note — hey lovelies, i hope you all have the best time this autumn. and to get even more into the spooky spirit, i wrote a little oneshot sidestory for symptoms and causes couple. but you can read it as a standalone without knowing the main story. and for everyone who reads s&c, this happens sometime after chapter 16 (i guess). happy reading and a spooky time <3

series masterlist + playlist + ao3 + wattpad

"I don't wanna go," you said.

"Aw, come on! It'll be fun!" Satoru insisted.

"I doubt it."

"You're so lame sometimes, you know that?" 

"And you're irresponsible. We can't just ditch work to—"

"Already handled it," he interrupted, taking a big bite of his cinnamon roll.

"Handled what?"

"Cell migration, documentation, report's done, and I even got a head start on the paper. You might wanna give it a once-over later, though."

"Wait, what?" You stopped dead in my tracks, surprise momentarily eclipsing your exhaustion.

"You're the better writer when it comes to this scientific stuff."

"No, I mean—"

Satoru suddenly stopped too, turning to face you. He grinned, a big bright smile from ear to ear. He was hell-bent on getting you into the Halloween spirit, and you reluctantly agreed to go to the Autumn Festival with him, indulging in cinnamon rolls and pumpkin spice lattes.

Every second, he shoved a new treat into your hands. Try this, try that. Pretty sure you were on the fast track to diabetes after this afternoon.

But you'd drawn the line at the haunted house.

You starred at him as the flickering pumpkin lanterns that lined the path of the crowded streets cast soft shadows across his features, making him even more handsome, as if the night itself conspired to make him even more captivating.

"You finished all that already?" you asked, a hint of disbelief in your voice.

"Yeah," he said, taking another bite of his cinnamon roll. "I wanted us to have some fun in between all the lab work."

You stared at him for a second longer, the bustling activity around you fading into the background. Your heart melted a little as his signature grin lit up his pretty features.

Seeing him so carefree and childlike was new, like he was genuinely loving every second of this—the cheesy traditions, the sea of orange, the cinnamon scent that hung heavy in the air. Like for the first time in forever, the weight of his past had lifted from his broad shoulders.

"This must have taken your hours," you said, still not quite getting over how much effort he must've put in.

"Eh, a few hours here and there." He sauntered closer, peering at you over the sunglasses he wore with a baseball cap to keep a low profile. Getting caught out with your professor would've been all kinds of scandalous, after all. "Totally worth it if it means I can spend more time with you."

"We're together all the time."

"I meant outside the lab," he clarified.

"Satoru, we live together."

"Yeah, where all we talk about is work, biochemicals, brains, and how much plastic surgery Naoya would need to be pretty again."

"Don't tell me you don't love that topic," you said dryly, as a chill autumn wind rustled the leaves at your feet.

He tilted his head, his large hand coming up to cup your cheek, his warmth seeping into you. He looked at you with those soft, mesmerizing eyes, making it impossible to deny him anything.

"Okay," you finally relented with a sigh. "Let's go to that haunted house. But just so you know," you added, "I don't scare easy."

He just smiled, smug as ever. "Oh, we'll see about that."

Moments later, you were at the haunted house, Satoru's arm draped casually around your waist. He already had tickets for the two of you, like he just knew you'd give in. Smug bastard indeed. You stepped into the creaky foyer, seemingly one of the only few people there.

The air was thick with the scent of dust and decay, and an eerie silence hung heavy in the dimly lit corridors. Satoru reached for your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours.

"Don't worry," he said. "I'll protect you."

You let go of his hand. "I don't need protection," you said before taking the lead and striding into the first room.

The first few rooms were predictably eerie, with cobwebs draped across worn furniture and ghostly figures lurking in the shadows. Flickering candlelight cast long shadows on the walls, creating an illusion of movement in the stillness.

"Not even a little bit scared?" Satoru asked.

"Nope," you replied, popping the 'p' for emphasis.

"You're really killing the fun here, you know." 

He made his way around a corner, and suddenly, a black figure sprang forward, catching him off guard. Satoru jumped slightly, his heart pounding in his chest. "Ah, fuck," he said, trying to regain his composure. "Stupid thing." He pushed the figure aside with his arm and went into the next room.

"Oh, I'm having fun," you said with a smile.

"Don't laugh.”

As you ventured deeper into the house, the scares became more elaborate, the atmosphere more oppressive. The air grew colder, and a sense of unease settled in the pit of your stomach. Maybe it was a little bit scary after all.

Then, a blood-curdling scream echoed from the room ahead, and you and Satoru whipped around, but nothing was to be seen.

"You know, I was hoping for something different when I had the idea to come here.”

"And what kind were you hoping for?" you asked, pushing the spiderwebs out of your way with disgust, the silky strands clinging to your fingers.

"The kind where you cling to me and scream at every little thing," he said, following your lead.

"Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" 

He grinned. "Well, I can't deny that would be enjoyable."

The next room was pitch black, the only sound the distant dripping of something liquid. Your heartbeat quickened as you stepped forward, the darkness seeming to swallow you whole. Suddenly, a cold hand grabbed your ankle, and you let out an involuntary yelp, jumping closer to Satoru.

Satoru quickly pulled you close, his strong arm wrapping around your waist as he steadied you. "Not scared, huh?" His voice was a deep rumble in his chest, and you could feel the vibrations against your back.

You pulled away from him. "Shut up. I'm not scared. Just... startled."

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Mhm, sure. Whatever you say, love."

"Let's just keep going," you said, marching forward into the darkness.

But Satoru wasn't about to let you off that easily. He caught up to you in a few long strides, his hand finding yours in the darkness. "You know," he said, "if you need me to hold your hand, all you have to do is ask."

You scoffed, but didn't pull away. "I think I can manage."

"Oh, I'm sure you can. But where's the fun in that?"

Satoru suddenly tugged on your wrist, pulling you flush against his chest. Before you could react, his soft lips were on yours, insistent and demanding. 

For a moment, you stood frozen, your mind reeling from the unexpected turn. But as his lips moved against yours, his tongue teasing the seam of your mouth, you found yourself melting into his embrace, your body molding to his like it was made to fit there.

Your hands slid up his chest, feeling the firm planes of his pecs beneath his shirt, before pushing his baseball cap off his head, letting it fall to the ground forgotten. 

His silky, white hair fell down into his forehead, the soft strands brushing against your skin as you tangled your fingers in his locks, deepening the kiss. He groaned against your mouth, the sound sending heat straight to your core, igniting a fire in your veins that only he could quench.

His arms tightened around your waist, pressing your body impossibly closer to his. The haunted house faded away, the eerie sounds and spooky decorations forgotten as you lost yourself in the feel of him.

His tongue delved into your mouth, exploring, tasting, with a skill that never failed to leave you weak in the knees. His large hands roamed over your back, leaving trails of fire in their wake, even through the fabric of your sweater.

"You know," he said between heated kisses, his voice a low rumble that you felt in your bones, "I kinda like this side of you."

"What side?" you asked, breathless.

"The side that is scared, the side that needs me.”

"Because you need to be needed?"

"Needed by you, yes," he said, his blue eyes dark, before he walked you backwards until your back hit the wall, his body pinning you in place. “Always by you. Only by you.”

His lips left yours, trailing hot, wet kisses along your jaw, down the column of your neck. You tilted your head back, giving him better access.

"Satoru," you breathed, your fingers tightening in his hair.

"What happened to being able to manage on your own, hmm?"

You tugged on his hair, bringing his lips back to yours. "Shut up and kiss me."

"With pleasure," he murmured, before capturing your lips once more in a searing kiss that stole the breath from your lungs.

You lost track of time as you kissed, your bodies intertwined, hands exploring, breaths mingling. It was only when a particularly loud and high scream echoed through the haunted house that you broke slightly apart, chests heaving.

"We should...probably get out of here," Satoru said, his voice rough, his gaze fixed on your lips.

"Why leave?"

His lips twitched into a smirk. "Yeah, why indeed."

Satoru took your hand, his long fingers intertwining with yours as he pulled you down a darkened hallway, away from the main path of the haunted house. 

He tried a few doorknobs until one finally gave way. Peeking inside, he tugged you into what appeared to be a dimly lit storage room, filled with discarded props, old furniture, and cobwebs that looked a little too real for comfort.

As soon as the door closed behind you, he had you pressed up against it, his hard body pinning you in place as his lips found yours again. Your hands roamed over his muscular back, feeling the ripple of his muscles beneath as the kiss deepened, your puls racing.

In one smooth motion, he hoisted you up, his large hands gripping your thighs as you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. He carried you further into the room, never breaking the kiss, his tongue tangling with yours.

Distantly, you registered a lone flashing red light in the corner, what seemed to be a security camera. Satoru noticed it too. 

Tearing his lips away from yours with a muttered curse, he set you down gently, your body sliding against his in a way that made you both shudder.

He strode over to the device. With a sharp tug, he disabled the camera and tossed it aside carelessly, before turning back to you with a heated look that made your core clench with need.

His hands found your waist once more, pulling you flush against him. His lips crushed on yours, the kiss hungry, desperate, all tongues and teeth. 

Your hands fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, needing to feel his skin against yours. Satoru shrugged out of the fabric impatiently, tossing it aside without a second thought before his hands slipped beneath your sweater. His thumb brushed over your nipple through the thin lace of your bra.

You arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips. Your hands found his belt buckle, undoing it with deft fingers before popping the button of his pants and sliding down the zipper.

You could see the outline of his hard, thick cock straining against the fabric of his boxers, begging to be freed. 

Sinking to your knees, the hard floor cold against your skin, you looked up at him through your lashes. His breath hitched as he realized what you were about to do. 

Your fingers hooked into the waistband of his boxers, tugging them down slowly, teasingly. Satoru's cock sprang free, hard and thick and perfect.

You wrapped your hand around the base, giving him a few slow, deliberate strokes as you maintained eye contact, watching as his blue eyes darkened.

Satoru's head fell back, a guttural groan rumbling in his broad chest, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "Fuck, your hand feels so good," he panted, his fingers threading into your hair, gripping just tight enough.

You leaned forward, your tongue darting out to lick the bead of precum from his tip, the salty-sweet taste of him on your tongue.

Satoru hissed, his hips moved forward slightly, needing more. You wrapped your lips around him, taking him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his shaft as you savored the feel of him heavy against your tongue.

"Fuck, yes, just like that," Satoru praised, his grip on your hair tightening as you began to move your head, taking him deeper with each pass until the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat.

You hollowed your cheeks, sucking hard as you worked him with your tongue, tracing the thick vein on the underside of his shaft. 

Satoru's moans filled the room, echoing off the walls, his hips rocking forward to meet your mouth, fucking your face with shallow thrusts.

"God, you take me so good, love," he groaned, his words dissolving into a low, drawn-out moan as you took him particularly deep. "Fu—Fuck.” He fell forward slightly, bracing his hands on the wall behind you.

You sucked him harder, your hand working what you couldn't fit in your mouth, twisting and stroking in time with your tongue. 

Satoru's breaths were coming in short, sharp pants now, his thighs tensing under your free hand. You could tell he was close, his cock twitching against your tongue, the taste of his precum becoming more intense.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum.” His deep voice strained and rough. "You're gonna make me fucking cum."

But just as you were sure he was about to come, Satoru's hand tightened in your hair, pulling you off him. You looked up, confusion in your eyes as you met his heated gaze.

"What's wrong?" you asked. "Was it not good?"

Satoru shook his head, a strained, breathy laugh escaping him. "Fuck, no, it was perfect. Too fucking perfect. I just..." He paused, his chest heaving as he tried to regain control. "I can't come like this. Not this time." 

He cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your slick lower lip. "I need to cum inside you. Need to feel you around me."

A shiver ran down your spine at his words, need pooling hot and heavy in your belly. Slowly, maintaining eye contact, you ran your tongue along the underside of his cock, flicking over the sensitive head. Satoru hissed again.

"And not like this?" you purred, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his weeping tip, your tongue swirling along the slit.

"Fucking tease.” His large hand fisted in your hair, dragging the head of his cock along your tongue, shuddering at the sensation, before reluctantly pulling away. "Why you gotta make this so hard for me, huh?"

He helped you to your feet, spinning you around and pressing you against the wall in one swift motion. His hands roamed your body, sliding over your waist, your hips, before swiftly undoing your pants and shoving them down.

Satoru’s large hand roaming over your ass, the other sliding between your legs, his long fingers pushing your underwear to the side and brushing against your dripping core. 

He pressed against your swollen clit, making you cry out and arch your hips back into him. "I can't fucking wait anymore,” he said.

His hands then gripped your hips, turning you to face the wall. You braced your hands against the cool surface, biting your lip. You felt the thick head of his cock nudging at your entrance, teasing you.

With one smooth, hard thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, stretching you just right, drawing moans from both of you. "Oh, fuck," you gasped, your nails scrabbling at the wall as you adjusted to the sudden fullness.

"My god, why do you always feel so fucking good," Satoru panted, his forehead resting against your shoulder, his hot breath fanning over your neck as he gave you a moment to adjust. "So tight, so fucking perfect. Like you were made for me."

"Move, Satoru," you breathed, very well aware that you were literally in the storage room of a haunted house and could get caught any second. "Fucking move."

"You're really not gonna let me enjoy this haunted house, are you?"

"Do you want to get caught with your pants down or what?"

"Then you'd better be quiet, love," he said. "Or I might just have to gag you with my fingers."

"You're impossible," you groaned, pushing your hips back against him, desperate for friction. "Just fucking move already."

Satoru didn't need to be told twice. He set a hard, deep pace, his hips snapping against yours, the sound of skin on skin echoing in the small room. 

One hand gripped your hip hard enough to leave bruises, while the other worked your clit, driving you closer to the edge with each skilled touch, each deep stroke of his perfect cock inside you.

You could feel your orgasm building, coiling tight in your lower belly. "Satoru, I'm close," you gasped, your nails scratching against the wall as you tried to find purchase. "Fuck, Satoru."

"Not yet, love." 

Quickly, Satoru's hand closed around your hip, spinning you around and lifting you up effortlessly like you weighed nothing. You clung to him, breathless and dizzy as he walked you over to a nearby table, sweeping aside the dusty props and cobweb-covered decorations littering its surface. 

He sat you down on the edge, your legs automatically wrapping around his trim waist to pull him closer, desperate to have him inside you again.

Satoru's warm hands slid up your thighs, over your hips, coming to rest on your waist as he leaned in to kiss your neck. "God, you're so fucking beautiful," he breathed, his lips brushing your skin. "Did I tell you how lucky I am to have you?"

"Satoru, we're literally fucking in a haunted house, maybe save the love confession for later?"

"You really are no fun during spooky season," Satoru groaned, his cock twitching against your thigh, leaving a trail of precum on your skin. He reached between your bodies, lining himself up with your entrance before thrusting forward, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth, deep stroke.

You threw your head back, a moan escaping your lips at the maddening feeling of him filling you so completely. Satoru set a steady pace, his hips rolling against yours, the new angle allowing him to hit that spot inside you that made you feel like you were flying and falling all at once.

"Fuck, you feel so good around my cock," Satoru panted, his forehead resting against yours as he moved, his breath mingling with yours.

Your nails raked down his back, urging him on, wanting him deeper, harder, faster, consequences be damned. Satoru obliged, his thrusts becoming more forceful, more urgent, the rickety table creaking beneath you with each powerful surge of his hips.

"Touch yourself," Satoru growled, his voice strained. "I wanna feel you come around my cock."

You did as he said, your hand lowering between your bodies to find your clit, your hips bucking up to meet Satoru's thrusts as you chased your release.

"That's it, love," Satoru encouraged, his eyes dark as he watched you. "Just like that. Fuck, you're so hot when you touch yourself."

His thrusts became more frenzied.The table creaked and groaned beneath you, threatening to collapse at any moment, but you didn't care. You were too far gone.

Your fingers moved faster, more urgently, as you felt your orgasm building. Satoru's eyes never left yours, his gaze burning with a fierce intensity as he watched you. His lips were parted, his chest heaving, and his forhead was slick with sweat.

Suddenly, your body convulsed, your muscles contracting around Satoru's cock as you came. His eyes squeezed shut, hissing through his teeth as he felt your muscles clamp down around him.

"Ah, fuck," he moaned. "What are you doing to me?" His body tensed, his muscles straining as he fought to hold on, to keep going, to make it last. But it was too late. 

He thrust once, twice, and then he was coming, his cock pulsing inside you as he emptied himself, filling you with warm sticky cum. As the last of his cum dripped out of him, his body relaxed, his chest heaving with exertion. 

His forehead dropped to yours, his eyes closed in bliss as he savored the aftermath. "Fuck," he panted, his voice barely audible. "You're going to be the death of me."

“You wanted to go to that haunted house,” you said. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as he caught his breath. 

He laughed. “Yeah, you’rer right.” His cock was still hard, still buried deep inside you, and you could feel his cum dripping out of you, a slow, sticky trickle.

He smiled, a lazy, sated smile that made your heart skip a beat. "God, I can't get enough of you." He was just about to lean in for a kiss when a sharp knock on the door startled you both. 

Your eyes widened in panic. 

"Hello?" a gruff voice called from the other side. It had to be a staff member.

"Oh, shit," you hissed, frantically grabbing for your clothes.

"I'm sorry, but this area is off-limits to guests," the voice called again, sounding more irritated.

Satoru quickly pulled his pants back on and finished buttoning his shirt, then reached for your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours as he pulled you close to his side and towards the door.

With his free hand, Satoru unlocked the door and flung it open, plastering on his most charming smile. Before you stood a grumpy middle-aged man who reeked of cigarettes and had dark circles under his eyes.

"Our bad, man," Satoru said smoothly, fishing out a few crisp yen bills from his pocket and pressing the money into the staff member's hand. "For the camera," he added with a wink.

The man looked at the bills, then back at Satoru, confusion written all over his weathered face. Without waiting for a response, Satoru dragged you out the door after him, brushing past the bewildered staff member. 

He led you quickly down the hallway, his grip on your wrist firm as he navigated through the winding passages. You didn't stop until you were outside the haunted house, the chilly night enveloping your flushed skin.

"Well, that was a close one," Satoru chuckled, running a hand through his tousled hair. "Haunted houses aren't so bad after all, huh?"

You leaned forward, hands on your knees as you tried to catch your breath, your legs still shaky. "Shut up.” You swatted at him halfheartedly.

"Wanna head back to the festival?" 

You made your way back to the festival, hand in hand, his baseball cap and sunglasses back in place. 

You strolled through the stalls, taking in the various decorations and trinkets on display. Jack-o'-lanterns grinned toothily from every corner, their flickering candles casting an fiery glow on the revelers' faces. The scent of cinnamon, roasted almonds, caramel and the earthy smell of fallen leaves wafted through the air.

Suddenly, something caught Satoru's eye and he tugged you towards it. It was a cute little stall decked out in shimmering black and orange, laden with an assortment of whimsical accessories. Pointy witch hats adorned with glittery stars, vampire fangs that glinted in the light, and masquerade masks decorated with shimmering sequins and feathers.

Satoru's eyes sparkled with childlike wonder as he rummaged through the collection, his face split in a wide grin. He plucked something from the display and held it up. "Hold still for a sec.” He tilted his head as he considered how it might look on you.

In his hands was a cute headpiece, twisted black wire interwoven with tiny, glittering bats and shimmering autumn leaves that seemed to dance in the breeze. He placed it gently on your head, his fingertips grazing your temples as he adjusted it just so.

"There," he said softly. "Absolutely beautiful."

You quirked an eyebrow at him. "Is that so?"

"Mhmm," he hummed. "In fact, it looks so good on you, I might just have to fuck you again, but with that on top this time."

As if on cue, the stall owner fumbled with a display, sending a cascade of glittery masks tumbling to the ground with a clatter. You shot Satoru a pointed look, your eyes screaming, 'See what you did?'

"Ah, sorry about that." Satoru called out to the flustered vendor, flashing her a charming smile as he pressed a generous wad of bills into her hand. "Keep the change, yeah? For the trouble."

Before the poor woman could respond, Satoru had whisked you away, his laughter ringing out like music in the crisp night air.

Moments later, you found yourself with a generous glass of spiced pumpkin wine in hand, Satoru having snagged two mugs from a nearby vendor.

With the decorative headpiece perched atop your head and the overly cute Halloween mug in your hand, you probably looked like the biggest Halloween fan around. "I'm starting to think you're actually enjoying this.”

He grinned. "Really? What gave it away?"

Just then, something caught Satoru's eye, and he came to an abrupt halt, nearly causing you to slosh your drink all over yourself. His gaze fixed on a colorful shooting gallery booth. Rows of stacked thimbles painted with witches, ghosts, and pumpkins enticed passersby to try their hand at winning a prize. 

Satoru grinned at you and before you knew it, you found yourself participating in yet another classic Halloween fun activity with him. He smirked, rolling up his sleeves with an air of confidence. "You ever played before, love?"

"Hmm," you hummed, stepping up to the counter and setting your pumpkin spice wine aside. The attendant passed you each a toy rifle, and you took your positions.You rolled your shoulders and lifted the rifle.

Satoru’s first volley of shots went wide, but he managed to hit 3 out of 5, the thimbles clattering as they toppled over. "Warm-up round," he said with a nonchalant shrug, his competitive streak already showing. 

He turned to you with his signature grin, but it quickly morphed into an open-mouthed gape as you proceeded to hit all 5 with nonchalant precision, barely even pausing between shots.

You blew imaginary smoke from the barrel of your toy gun, a smug smile playing about your lips as you reached for your forgotten wine. "You were saying?"

Satoru blinked at you, his mouth open. "Okay, remind me never to piss you off again.”

"You know I'm never letting you live this down, right?"

"Yeah, I figured as much," he said, but you could see the corner of his mouth twitching as he fought back a smile. He grabbed you around the waist, pulling you flush against him as he captured your lips in a kiss.

A pointed cough from the attendant broke you apart. "Your prize, miss?" the man prompted, gesturing to the array of plushies and plastic trinkets.

"Oh, I think I'll let the loser choose," you said airily, shooting Satoru a wink before walking away.

As the night wore on, you lost yourselves in the simple joy of each other's company, sharing laughter, playful challenges, and stolen kisses amidst the twinkling lights and paper streamers.

By the time the festival began to wind down, you were exhausted, your cheeks aching from smiling and your sides sore from laughter. Satoru pulled you close, his arm draped around your shoulders, as you made your way toward the exit and back home.

Maybe Halloween festivals weren't so bad after all.

author's note: hello again, sorry i've been quite offline these days, but i hope the short story made you smile (or whatever reaction you had to it lol). this should take place after chapter 16 but yk i haven't written that yet haha. so just imagine a happy satoru for this, after a huge burden got off his shoulders.

have a great day or night whenever you read this and and an even more great halloween and holiday season <3

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

[asvtrials]

I know you said you wanted ideas and I would love to enable the emperor brainrot. I’ve been wondering how Geta would react to women fighting in the games. I know the timing doesn’t quite work out (his father banned them from participating) but they used to, even high class women participated. The movies aren’t exactly right with the real history anyway. Just a thought I have. For someone so… bloodthirsty, I think it would be interesting…

Thank you for the suggestion, I LOVE THIS IDEA OMG! I can see him being so entranced by such a strong woman. I hope you like this <3

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄

Emperor Geta x gladiator!fem!reader, minors dni! masterlist

summary: The moment the older Emperor laid eyes upon you, in the middle of the Arena, he was lost. You were encircled by corpses, every bit of your skin and clothing was coated by the red liquid of your enemies yet you looked divine, so divine that Geta wanted you for himself. warnings/tags: Gladiator reader, sub!Geta x dom!reader, ooc, power play, Geta wants to be topped and doesn't even know it lmao, p in v, choking, description of gore, death and blood

tags: @1950schick @longlivemyblues @reformedkingsmanagent @doodle-with-rhy @whimsicalittletrinkets @edsbug @jakesullyswhore @only4thefics @lillissleepmedicine @badbun5656 @cokepowder55 @idolofthewestcoast @www-interludeshadow-com @ellie-luvsfics @cosmorant @believeinthefireflies95 w/c: 3.7k English is not my first language and I'm not used to writing in present tense. Sorry for any mistakes I make.

── ୨ৎ

The moment he laid eyes on you, Geta knew he was done for.

You were breathtaking in every way he could think of, so much so that even Caracalla noticed his breath catching in his throat as they gazed below from their box.

He knew you weren’t meant for everyone’s eyes.

Your golden skin, dark curls, soft lips, and doe eyes were of such contrast to the tight grip you had on your sword and the redness that stained your clothes. It was all too intense to ignore so that same night he ordered your master to bring you to the palace.

He taps his foot against the marble floor the longer it takes for you to arrive and Caracalla's cackle echoes in the vast room at Geta’s boyish behavior. Geta sends him a warning glare but immediately turns when he hears Thraex’s voice.

“My Emperors!” He calls cheerfully as a servant leads him to the twin thrones. 

He almost forgets to regard Thraex as he searches for you but sends a tight-lipped smile before his eyes fall on your figure. You stand behind your owner, eyes refusing to look away from the floor.

“Thraex!” Caracalla welcomes, throwing his hands in childish delight. “Incredible performance today! You never fail to entertain us!”

“My Emperors I see you have been charmed by this beauty! I don't blame you it's not every day that we see female Gladiators.” He boasts, grabbing your face rather harshly and forcing you to face the Emperors.

Gods, you were even more mesmerizing up close. He didn’t appreciate how Thraex touched you thoughtlessly, his brow twitching at the sight of his dirty nails digging into your cheeks.

The Emperor steps forward and with one wave of his hand, Thraex quickly withdraws his hand and steps to the side. 

Geta doesn't even look at him, he is too lost in your confusing gaze. For once he doesn’t see any admiration or even fear in someone’s eyes. It is something different, so foreign and electrifying…

“How shall we call you, warrior?” He asks, his voice surprisingly stern despite his internal feverish excitement.

“Her name is—” Thraex begins but Geta raises his hand, silencing him immediately.

You remain quiet, unsure of what to do. You weren't told you'd have to speak. Honestly, you weren't given much information to begin with. They just hoarded you to the carriage and brought you here.

You give an uncertain glance to Thraex but your eyes snap back to the man before you when speaks again.

“Don't look at him.” Geta reprimands. “Look at your Emperor,” He says and you can practically feel the arrogance as the word ‘Emperor’ leaves his mouth.

“Emperors!” Caracalla yells from his throne but Geta ignores him.

“How shall we call you?” He repeats, dismissing his co-emperor.

“Y/n.” Your voice is strained when you speak but his lips twitch upwards at the sound.

“Y/n… Delightful.” He murmurs as he searches your eyes for something even he isn’t sure.

“Thank you, Thraex. The servants will lead you out.” He tells the older man who frowns. He wasn’t prepared to walk out without a slave this evening.

“My Emperor, um…” He stammers. “She is rather expensive and I-”

“I can see that.” He interrupts and his eyes run down your figure. His hungry gaze sends a shiver down your spine but you try to ignore it.

“She will stay in the Palatine until her next game, that is if she fights again.” He informs the man, finally turning to him, but not for long. His attention was back to you, his finger reaching for one of your curls. “I'll see how she'll do today and I'll inform you. Do not fret, You will be compensated.”

You narrow your eyes, the implication barely hidden between his words.

You didn't look away from him even when the maids hurried you out of the room. It wasn't out of attraction, although you have to admit he wasn't bad, it was because of fear. 

This felt like the beginning of a very dangerous game. Being faced with hungry predator, yet not being eaten. Waiting for the blow, yet never being hit…

Never sure when you’re going to be devoured, broken, and ruined completely until you're tossed to the side.

The maids lead you to the servants' bathrooms. Normally, you would feel revolted at how they touch you and scuff you, but getting clean after so many days silences any negative emotion.

It was painfully obvious that they were ordered to prepare you as fast as possible. The uncomfortable discovery of just how impatient the man was hangs above you as they dress you. As much as you want to pretend you can handle Geta he remained the Emperor of Rome. A spoiled, entitled Emperor who is used to getting his way…

The servants guide you to his chambers with hushed whispers that you don’t bother tuning to. You take a deep breath as you stand in front of the large doors of his bedroom, uncomfortable in the thin dress they put on you.

A servant gives you a light push resulting in you sending her a glare but you do comply. 

Softly, you give the heavy door a few knocks with your knuckles. You don’t wait much until a “Come in.” reaches your ears.

You enter the grand room and you have to pause for a minute to let it all in. The luxurious furnishing and decor of the bed chambers are a stark difference from the muddy cells they provided to you. It is beyond anything you’d seen before. Geta smirks at your astonishment.

“Come, my little warrior.” He orders, his voice honeyed despite his authority.

“What am I here for?” You ask as you approach him, disinterested in idle chit-chat. As much as the venom threatens to spill from your tone, you make a real effort to sound as polite.

Geta doesn't bother giving you an answer. He merely extends his hand, bringing the back of his hand close to your face, expecting you to comply with his every command.

You hate that he is right. As much as you want to spit on his face you want to keep your head, the promise of living long enough to win your freedom was such a flickering hopeful thought but it kept you from making foolish decisions like spitting on your Emperor’s face.

You eye his fingers, the rings that adorned almost all of them shine in the candlelight. Bitterly, your cold hand reaches for his, and the moment you feel his tender flesh against your lips you feel nauseous but he doesn’t seem to notice, or more accurately, care. His fingers twitch at the contact.

Tender and delicate.

If it isn’t clear by his behavior or extravagant attire that he knew nothing about work, pain, or how it felt to beg for a moldy piece of bread, the softness of his hands made it very clear.

He knows nothing about the suffering that he and his brother put everyone through. Gods, you want to rip him apart.

“What am I here for?” You repeat, dragging each word as if you're talking to a child.

“To entertain me. Aren't you an entertainer?” He answers with a small smirk threatening at the corner of his lips.

“I am a Gladiator.” You correct sharply.

“I see no difference.” He chuckles, stepping back to a table filled with food and wine.

He pours himself some wine, offering you some as well. Although you want to act cold and refuse the liquid looked too tasteful. You accept, bringing the cup to your lips without words. It is as delicious as it looks and you close your eyes for a moment to relish the taste.

“Divine isn't it?” He asks, a pleased smile playing on his lips. You snap your eyes open, mentally slapping yourself for giving him the satisfaction. You nod, setting the cup on the table.

Suddenly he steps forward, closing the gap between you. “You must already understand that I didn't call you here to drink.” He says, bringing his hand to sit on your shoulder, his thumb rubbing your collarbone.

“I am no whore.” You warned, pushing his hand away

His eyes darkened at your words “You are whatever I want you to be.” He says through gritted teeth.

As much as you tried, you couldn’t bite your tongue. “That is what you believe, huh?” You begin, a dry chuckle leaving your lips. “You think we are ants in your Empire?”

He tilts his head, eye twitching. He starts at you as if trying to figure out what he should do to you. The taste of defiance from someone like you was far beyond what he had anticipated for this meeting…He isn’t sure why but it left a sweet aftertaste. Intoxicating is the only word that comes to mind.

Soon enough he snaps out of this mind-fogging haze and grabs your arm harshly. You don’t even flinch, it couldn’t compare to the hardship you had gotten through in the arena.

“Have you forgotten who you’re speaking to?” He warns, voice breaking in a mix of surprise and fury.

Something compels you in that moment. Is it anger after seeing the lavish life he has while you were rotting away in a cell? Is it a surge of power after bashing the Emperor himself?

You grab his wrist, your grip tight and unforgiving. His eyes widen, glancing between your hand and eyes.

You can’t help the smirk that falls upon your lips when worry flashes in his eyes. It was only for a second but you have seen it too many times to miss it. You don’t miss the way he didn’t pull away either.

A small breath slithers past his lips as he stares down at you, the darkness in his eyes almost gone in the candlelight.

“You’ve brought me here to claim me…You think you can?” You tell him and his look alone was worth your possible execution.

“You dare underestimate me, you worthless—”

“I can snap your wrist like a twig” You interrupt him with a chuckle.

He raises an unconvinced brow.

You convince him just fine with a calculated press of your thumb against his bone. He hisses in pain but he doesn’t pull his hand back.

“But I think you would like that, My Emperor,” You tell him with a wicked smile. It is barely above a whisper but it’s enough to make Geta’s breath catch in his throat. “All you have to do is ask…” 

You can’t believe it. Emperor Geta, the ruthless and heartless Ceasar looking at you like he was about to kneel and kiss your feet if you let him, have his head if you wished for it.

“Can you—” He begins the words catching in his throat, shame catching up to him faster than his words could leave his mouth. “Join me tonight?” He finally manages to say, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

Something warm spreads across your chest and your fingers twitch around his wrist before ultimately loosening your grip.

He lets you guide him to the bed without a word. He doesn’t even look back, his eyes already too foggy with desire. Once the back of his legs meet the edge of the bed, he lowers himself.

Geta’s breath fans your stomach, and the thin material of your cloth barely covers you and you shiver. His hands ich to reach for you, to wrap his hands around your waist and drag his lips all over your skin like a starved man but he restraines, looking up at you through his lashes.

Your smirk grows wider at his obedience. 

Your hand snakes up his arm and rests on his throat and he groans, a sound dangerously close to whimper. Shame washes over you when you find your thighs pressing together at such a pitiful sound. 

“My Emperor, did you know…” You begin and Geta forces himself back to reality at the sound of your voice. “That if you slice this little vein, right here—” You murmur while gently running your thumb on a prominent vein in his throat, your tone soothing completely unsuitable for your words. “Death will find you slow and painful…Such feeble beings we are…”

“Have you ever done it?” He asks, nearly innocently. “Given someone a slow and painful death?”

“You would’ve known.” You sneer, your mocking laugh making his cheeks burn.

So you have noticed him looking at you, even when the fight was long finished and you were resting against the burning sand, bodies gushing with blood surrounding you.

His hand creeps up your arm,  A silent plea for you to give him what he wants. So you do.

You squeeze your fingers around his throat making him gasp in surprise. The breathy moan that escaped his lips tell everything you need to know and you press your fingers tighter, your nails digging into his incredibly soft skin.

He throws his head back, gasping desperately. His hand slides down to his stomach but before he could move any further you grab his arm, pinning it against the mattress.

Has he ever felt this weak, this vulnerable? You hoped the answer was no. How could you imagine anyone else seeing him in such a state?

He snaps his eyes open, half-lidded eyes staring back at you with such desperation that you had to resist the urge to give up on whatever this little game was and just sink on his dick already.

“You are enjoying yourself, my Ceasar?” You mock but he doesn’t notice the ridicule in your voice, perhaps he is too used to his enjoyment being everyone’s concern. His answer comes in an eager nod.

Your gaze travels down his body, your eyes lingering on him longer than you would ever admit.

Your eyebrows shoot up when you notice the tent in his toga. 

You could see he likes it but not that much.

Without much thought you climb the bed, the mattress dipping under your knees as you cradle his lap. 

“Mmm…” You purse your lips to stop the sounds that threaten to spill from your lips when you feel his hardness press against your clothed core.

His mind is too far gone, too deprived of oxygen to understand much; he could only whimper softly at the friction.

His breaths come more shallow than before and his hand grips yours.

It would be so easy to just squeeze. He wouldn’t even scream, how would he when all the oxygen was stolen from his lungs?

Nonetheless, you release your grip no matter how tempting the idea is.

He gasps for air, his hand coming to rub his throat, throwing his head back with a long sigh, desperate to fill his lungs again.

Once he finally realizes the position that you've arranged yourself in, his other hand comes to your thing, squeezing lightly as if to ground himself.

You hate that you welcome the action, his warm hands feel begrudgingly pleasant on your skin.

You let him come back to reality, waiting until his chest moves slowly again. He wet his lips with his tongue as his eyes try to focus and for the first time, you notice the tears that sit on his lash line.

You want to taunt him, to call him every degrading name that sat on your tongue moments ago but you simply can’t. Not when he looks at you like he would break apart at any moment. No—when he looks at you like he wants you to break him apart.

So you do the next best thing you can think of, or more accurately, your body can think of. You roll your hips forward, earning a gasp from the both of you.

Both his hands fly to grasp your thighs tighter as you repeat the motion and again until he shakes under you, throwing his head back with a whine.

“I—I want you.” He rasps between soft moans, his voice soft and pleasing.

You pause contemplating for a moment if you should do it the easy way. You have to laugh because why would you?

“You want me?” You repeat with a taunting giggle, grabbing his jaw between your fingers, and forcing his gaze to meet yours.

“Yes.” The word comes out in a quick, desperate breath, so fast that it makes your mocking smirk falter for a moment.

“How pitiful. Imagine the Senate seeing you like this. Bet you'll lose what little respect they have for you.” You snicker, running your thumb over his cheek. His only response was digging his nails into the flesh of your thigh.

His reddened eyes blink rapidly but you can still notice the blown-out pupils when you untie his robes, deliberately taking your time. You suppress a smile as he shifts uncomfortably.

Once you finally unbit the belt of his luxurious robe, you toss it to the side completely bypassing the worth of the material. You try to ignore the sudden shake that took over your fingers as you carefully move away his robes, revealing his finely muscled body.

His leaking cock springs up, laying against his stomach and you felt even more self-conscious by simply looking.

A small prideful smile creeps to his lips. You send him a warning glare but he seems to gain his confidence rather quickly, not missing the opportunity to gloat over your little slip-up.

He sits up, the cheeky smile never leaving his lips. “Are you enjoying yourself, my little warrior?” He taunts your previous words.

You narrow your eyes, squeezing his face between your fingers in irritation but his smirk doesn’t falter until you move your hands to your own belt. His tongue runs across his bottom lip, nearly salivating at the thought of your naked body.

You pull your dress over your head hastily revealing your naked body to the man. His gaze explores you with a starving intensity. His hands quickly reach for your flush skin but you swat them away. 

Geta is about to send you an irritated look but you are quicker, grabbing a handful of his hair and yanking his head back. 

He groans and despite his momentary surge of confidence, he doesn’t do anything to stop you but rather bites his lip to stop any embarrassing sound from escaping. 

“So spoiled.” You spit out, pulling harder on his locks.

That little motion seems to break him apart completely as a breathy moan reaches your ears.

“Do you really want me?” You murmur and he nods but that doesn't satisfy you. 

Why should it? You want to hear him beg and cry for you, swallow his pride completely under the promise of pleasure.

You yank his hair harder, making him huff in surprise louder. 

“Yes, I want you. I really want you.” He manages to say through rugged breaths. “...my lady.”

“Good.” You say and you can see something flicker in his eyes at the sudden praise. 

You let go of his hair and rest your hands on his shoulders. With a small push, you lift your bare body from his. Your hand finds his member, aligning it to your entrance and he chokes. You run his tip between your folds making both of you exhale at the feeling.

With a deep breath, you slowly sink down his length. No matter how much you try to keep quiet you simply can't. You can’t help the lewd moans at the burning sensation alongside Geta who hugs your waist, pressing his face between your breasts.

You should've pushed him away, you really tried to make yourself do it. But instead, you run your fingers through his unruly hair, the pleasure too mind-numbing for the both of you to keep up with this game. 

Geta doesn’t miss the opportunity to taste you, kissing and licking your skin hungrily. It started between your breasts, his teeth grazing your skin with every kiss.

His eagerness sends shivers down your spine and a loud moan leaves your mouth when his lips latch onto your nipple, catching it between his teeth and circling it with his tongue.

His hips buckle, drilling his cock deeper into your creamy folds. You moan loudly, grasping his shoulders.

He pauses for a moment, expecting punishment but when all you do is cry out in pleasure his lips curl, his smile mirroring one of a crazed man.

It is for the better that you don’t see the delight on his face. You would never forgive yourself after seeing the pleasure he took in seeing you like this.

Geta’s pace quickly deteriorates into something primal and desperate. Something so uncontrollable that even you couldn't stop. But even if you could, you doubt you would. 

Your nails rake his back with every forceful slam and you cry out when his tip grazes that spongy spot inside you, legs shaking in pleasure. 

“Oh! Oh— Gods!” You moan, sinking your nails into his back.

With a groan, he releases your nipple from his mouth and raises his head, his blown out eyes falling on your face.

You meet his hungry gaze but only for a second before your eyes travel to his spit-covered lips and without much thought, you grab his hair and pull him to you, slamming his lips on yours.

He doesn’t miss a beat and kisses you back with the same insatiable hunger that fills your chest.

You claw and bite and kiss him like he was your last meal. And he possibly is because once the fog of lust wears off he will surely command a public execution.

Your lips part in a silent moan, lost in bliss at the violent orgasm that just hit you harder than you’ve ever experienced. Your walls flutter around his twitching dick and he whines at the feeling. He comes with a loud moan, lips pressing against you as he spills his seed deep inside you. He pushes you close, pressing your chest against his face as you both breathe heavily.

He murmurs something against your skin but you ignore him. You will later find out that it was a quiet promise, not to you but to himself; to keep you as close as he could even if it meant stopping the following games altogether, even if it meant locking you somewhere only he could see you.

── ୨ৎ

a/n: This was a PAIN to write. I was left suffering. I hope you like it and i'm REALLY sorry for delaying this for so long! I think I had such a hard time because 1) sub!Geta feels so out of character and I tried to make this as in character for him and 2) I had no time to write cuz of all the family dinners.

[jungwnies]

sfw alphabet | lando norris

୨ৎ : synopsis : sfw a-z alphabet for lando norris ୨ৎ : word count : 993

୨ৎ : requested : @catherine4631610

(a/n) : don't forget to like & reblog !! my requests are open!

a ⤖ affection (how affectionate is he? how often does he show affection?)

probably quite affectionate, but in a playful, teasing way.

lots of nudges, silly faces, and casual touches rather than constant grand gestures.

b ⤖ beginning (what would he be like as a bsf; how would the friendship start?)

friendship would likely start with some shared interest - gaming, maybe?

he seems like someone who values genuine connection and shared humor. you'd probably roast each other constantly.

c ⤖ cuddles (does he like to cuddle; how would he cuddle?)

enjoys cuddling but might get a bit restless.

he'd probably prefer being the little spoon surprisingly, or a tangled mess of limbs.

d ⤖ domestic (does he want to settle down; how good is he at cooking and cleaning?)

seems like he'd be open to settling down eventually, but not in a rush.

cooking and cleaning? he'd try his best, but might need some "encouragement" (aka, you taking the lead).

e ⤖ ending (if he had to break up with you; how would he do it?)

he'd try to be honest and kind, but might struggle with direct communication.

there's a chance he'd overthink it and make things a bit awkward.

f ⤖ fiance (how does he feel about commitment; would he want to get married quick?)

commitment might take time, but once he's in, he's all in.

he wouldn't rush into marriage, but wouldn't shy away from it either when the time is right.

g ⤖ gentle (how gentle is he; emotionally + physically?)

generally gentle, both physically and emotionally.

he seems to have a good heart and wouldn't intentionally hurt someone he cares about.

h ⤖ hugs (does he likes hugs; how often does he hug you; what are his hugs like?)

hugs are probably a regular occurrence.

playful squeezes, side hugs, and maybe the occasional bear hug when he's feeling extra affectionate.

i ⤖ i love you (how fast does he say he loves you?)

he might take a while to say it, wanting to be sure of his feelings first.

but once he does, he'd mean it wholeheartedly.

j ⤖ jealousy (how jealous does he get; what does he do when he is jealous?)

probably not overly jealous, but might get a bit competitive if he feels threatened.

he'd likely express jealousy through playful teasing rather than anger.

k ⤖ kisses (what are his kisses like; where does he like to kiss you; where does he like to be kissed?)

kisses would be a mix of sweet and playful.

forehead kisses, quick pecks, and longer, more passionate kisses when the moment is right.

he might have a thing for kissing your nose.

l ⤖ little ones (how is he around children?)

seems like he'd be great with kids, patient and playful. (i mean we've all seen him with penelope and how much she loves seeing him)

he'd probably make silly faces and get involved in imaginative games.

m ⤖ morning (how are mornings spent with him?)

mornings would be relaxed and playful.

lots of sleepy cuddles and maybe some friendly banter before getting the day started.

n ⤖ night (how are nights spend with him?)

evenings would be a mix of chilling out and having fun.

gaming sessions, movie nights, or just chatting and laughing together.

n ⤖ open (when would he open up; does he say everything at once or does he wait to reveal himself?)

he might take a while to fully open up, but once he trusts you, he'd be honest and vulnerable.

he'd likely reveal himself gradually over time.

p ⤖ patience (how easily angered is he?)

seems fairly patient, but can be competitive and might get frustrated during intense moments.

he'd likely try to manage his anger constructively.

q ⤖ quizzes (how much would he remember about you; does he remember every little detail; or is he forgetful?)

he'd probably remember the important things about you, but might miss some of the smaller details.

he'd make an effort to pay attention, though.

r ⤖ remember (what is his favorite moment in the relationship?)

his favorite memory would likely be a shared adventure or a moment of genuine connection and laughter.

something unique to your relationship, like an inside joke or something.

s ⤖ security (how protective is he; how does he protect you; how would he like to be protected?)

protective in a subtle way, making sure you feel safe and comfortable.

he'd appreciate someone who can be both independent and supportive.

t ⤖ try (how much effort does he put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

he'd put effort into the things that matter to you, but might not always be the most traditional romantic.

expect thoughtful gestures and quality time over grand displays.

y ⤖ ugly (what are some of his bad habits?)

might be a bit messy and prone to leaving things lying around.

he could also get overly competitive at times.

v ⤖ vanity (how concerned is he with his looks?)

he probably cares about his appearance to some extent, as most people in the public eye do.

but it wouldn't be his defining trait.

w ⤖ whole (would he feel incomplete without you?)

he'd definitely value your relationship and see you as an important part of his life.

but he also seems like someone who values his independence.

x ⤖ xtra (random headcanon for him)

he probably has a secret stash of silly socks and loves to wear them when no one's looking.

y ⤖ yuck (what are some things he wouldn't like; in general or in a partner?)

dishonesty and negativity would be major turn-offs.

he'd also likely dislike drama and people who take themselves too seriously.

he always needs a good laugh so he would hate someone who didn't match his energy tbh.

z ⤖ zzz (what are his sleeping habits?)

he's probably a restless sleeper, tossing and turning throughout the night.

might even talk in his sleep occasionally!

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[bizbat]

hiii

so i had a thought of like, jason with a gf who has trouble getting wet no matter how turned on she is, and she’s embarrassed so she kinda puts off them having sex for a while.

and he’s so confused and just thinking that she doesn’t like him enough or something until one day he finally says something and she gives in and tells him

and he’s just sitting there like “…. you mean all we had to do was buy lube?”

and then wonderful (smutty.) things ensue

please and thank you, mwah 😘

Not A Problem . . .

🕸️Spiderverse Masterlist🕸️

🐼JJK Masterlist🐼

~ Jason Todd x Fem!AFAB!Reader

~ Explicit Smut

~ Reader is not described.

~ Wc:1.039k

~ You can find more of my works here.

C/W: Smut, PiV penetration, Oral (female receiving), Fingering, Pet names (Angel, Baby, Pretty), Mdom, FSub, Healthy Dom/Sub dynamics (communication, explicit consent), Use of the terms "cunt", "pussy", "tits", "ass", "cock", "asshole", Non-penetrative sex, Multiple orgasms, Overstim, Teasing, Hair pulling, Crying, Dacryphilia

It really, really isn't.

Looking back now, you can't believe you were ever worried about it.

You vividly remember pushing off advancing your relationship with Jason in that way, terrified of what he might say, how he might react. You remember having to hype yourself up to tell him, getting all serious, sitting him down one day after "work", you'd even spent the day thinking up clever segways into the conversation.

The topic, of course, being that no matter how hard you try, you cannot get wet.

No matter how much foreplay, no matter how much you touch yourself, you can't bring your body to secrete those famous, ever-important juices. And it's been really hard. In past relationships, you've either been forced to deal with the discomfort, or deny sex all together. But not with Jason.

You wanted to do everything with him, kiss him, love him, fuck him, everything. Which is why you got all serious with him to begin with. You remember telling him you had something you wanted to talk about, sitting beside him on the couch, and holding his hands in yours as you took a deep breath, and began explaining your problem. He was very sincere as he listened to you, his eyes never leaving your nervous face as he patiently let you explain the issue that had been plaguing your previous relationships. He took the whole thing very seriously.

Or at least, he did, until you had stopped speaking. Once the heavy silence overtook the room, he could no longer hold back the small smile that spread across his face, nor the tiny chuckle that escaped his lips. He quickly slapped his hand over his mouth to try to hide it before you could catch it, but the look of betrayal had already been plastered clean across your face. He cracks up as he reaches out to grab at your fleeting figure.

Honestly though, you're not sure why you ever so worried to begin with. Jason's head stuffed between your thighs is enough evidence to convince you he was never gonna judge you. The spit dripping down your thighs in thick rivers is all the reassurance you could've needed. His tongue furiously stroking your clit as his fingers pump in and out of your sweet cunt prove his dedication to pleasing you, no matter what little obstacles present themselves in your relationship.

He groans into your pussy, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure up your core, tingling up your back as you arch up from the plush carpet on the floor, which you're sure you'll have to replace. Your hands harshly tug at his dark locks, which, only makes him moan louder. Your legs strain from where they're laid over his shoulders, your hips tiredly thrusting against his soaking wet face.

Your eyes are far too blurry for you to see the lovestruck look on his face. At this point, what feels hours into eating you out like a man starved, he's just as out of it as you are, borderline losing brain function from the lack of oxygen. He's gone he barely even notices his cock painfully straining against his pants, or the ache forming in his knees and thighs from kneeling over you.

At some point, you have to push him away, your clit too sensitive to take any more abuse from his fingers, lips, and tongue. Your chest heaves up and down as you try your best to pull yourself away from his hungry mouth, your legs too tired to do anything to offer any kind of real service. Jason can only laugh at your desperate attempts, a combination of spit and slick coating your thighs and ass, making your skin glint and glisten so beautifully under the soft, warm light of your apartment.

He follows your pussy with his mouth as you squirm away. Your weak body only manages to pull you a few inches from where you originally started, only laying on your tummy now, instead of your back. He lets out a laugh, it's tired and raspy and like music to your ears, as he leans down and grips both of your ass cheeks, pulling them apart so he can spit a fat glob of saliva onto your tight asshole. He watches in an almost manic delight as it slowly spills down onto your drenched pussy, puffy from his tireless mouth. "Ah ah ah pretty," He coos at you gently, his hands gripping onto your hips to stop you from pulling away any more. "Gotta make sure you're nice an' wet, yeah?"

He's really gotta be out of it, to not see the buckets of secretion spilling down your thighs, and dripping from your cunt like a faucet. Regardless, he's still not satisfied, watching in amusement as your ass shakes when he delivers a wet slap. You can't tell if it was a harsh slap, or if your body is just too sensitive from his touch at this point, but you still gasp either way, fresh tears spilling from your eyes and dripping down your flushed cheeks.

"Don't we baby? Answer me." He groans biting his lip at the sight of your tears. You can't even remember the question, you think you say yes, but your brain isn't sending the proper signals to your mouth at the moment, so for all you know, you just let out incoherent babble. Either way, Jason seems to be pleased, murmuring out some sort of praise as he goes back to burying his head in-between your thighs.

His hands tug and squeeze at your ass, the fat filling his hands so deliciously, as he sucks and slurps at your cunt like it was his favorite meal on the planet. And truly, it might just be. He couldn't be more thankful that you told him you had a hard time getting wet, because now it gave him the excuse to eat you out for as long as physically possible.

And fuck, you'll let him. You almost feel stupid for worrying about it in the first place. Your fears that he wouldn't want to have sex with you after finding out, feel like a joke now. Clearly, to him, it's not a problem. It really, really isn't.

[bamfkeeper]

NSFW Alphabet: Nightcrawler

a/n: At last, I thought this was going to take longer to write but I couldn't help myself. I was surprised that my sfw one did as well as it did, so naturally I had to do a nsfw one. I want to mention I tried to make it as gender-neutral as I can, I want everyone to enjoy my writing regardless of what you identify as. I hope you all enjoy. <3

Minors DNI. 18+ below the cut.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex):

Kurt is very cuddly after sex. Whether he was top or bottom, he likes to snuggle.

If Kurt was on top, he will hold you and reassure you, saying loving things to you while giving you tender kisses on your cheeks and temples, and anywhere that he might've bit or marked. He will also get up and make sure to clean you, wiping a warm rag over your sensitive areas and praising how beautiful/handsome you are.

He would draw a bath or shower, and he'd absolutely change the sheets while you clean up. Kurt would also make sure to get you snacks or anything that you like to have for aftercare.

If Kurt was bottom, he would be rather clingy to you, not wanting you to go and wanting to hold you. He likes to be taken care of in a similar fashion to how he would care for you. He likes to hear your praise and he will want you close to him for the rest of the night.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s):

Kurt has a hard time loving himself sometimes, but he learned to from you. He likes to see your reaction to his body, so he learned to love his tail and pointy canines, since you always seem to react positively to them. His ears can also be quite sensitive if you kiss or lick them.

On his partner, he couldn't possibly choose a favorite body part. He loves your hands, how they feel on his velvety fuzz, how warm and delicate/strong they are.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically):

Kurt has unique biology, so naturally that applies to his spunk too. He cums a lot, and he likes to cum inside you because he feels more connected with you. He also can't deny how incredible it feels, you're already so warm and tight around him, and when his hot cum spurts out and surrounds him, it just makes him want to orgasm again and again.

He isn't ashamed or afraid of cum play either. He will eagerly lick you clean, eating you out after he fills you up. He isn't shy about it. Sometimes he will do this instead of using a damp cloth just to be cheeky. And that typically leads to another round.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs):

Kurt secretly wishes you walk in on him touching himself or masturbating so you can see how needy he is without you.

He's always wanted to try recording himself for you, but that would be something extremely sensitive and intimate you'd have to swear you never showed or told anyone about.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?):

Kurt isn't a virgin, he's been around a few partners so he is at least a little experienced. He might have only done vanilla things with past partners, or not, but he has had enough partners to know what he's doing.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying):

The good hearted part of him wants to stick with missionary, he feels more connected with you that way, and he gets to see how your eyes roll back when he hits that sweet spot deep inside of you, watching you cling onto him, holding him tightly.

But the naughtier part of him wants to say doggy, he can really push himself deep and let loose that way. Especially if you like it too, he loves feeling your ass against his hips, watching you cling onto the blankets while he thrusts with abandon.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.):

Kurt is obviously very playful, so being intimate with him would be loving and sweet, but he'd laugh every now and then out of pure love and joy. Sex can be a little awkward or messy, and he'd absolutely love those moments where you both let out a little giggle because of a funny sound that came from either of you.

There are times where he takes it more serious, but because it is such an intimate and vulnerable moment for the both of you, it feels more comforting when you can smile and laugh a little.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.):

Kurt is covered in a layer of velvety fuzz, but he has a happy trail of longer hair that leads down to his crotch. He isn't crazy grown, but he had a good patch of longer fuzz where his pubic hair is. It is groomed well enough to not get in the way of your activities. The hair is also slightly darker than his skin, but not completely black like his hair.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect):

He can be incredibly sweet and tender, or go a little more intense depending on what you like or ask of him. Overall, his default will generally be loving and romantic. He likes to make the scene comfortable for you, making sure you are cozy laying down, the room will smell nice with candles, and he makes the atmosphere relaxing.

He likes to give you a massage before you have sex, rubbing out any nerves you might have or just to get you extra comfortable with him. He likes to do this especially when you are trying something new that you might be a little wary about.

If you are uncomfortable, he will hold your hips and gently move his thumbs in circles, speaking to you softly and making sure you're not in any pain. He is very patient and won't rush anything.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon):

Kurt doesn't masturbate a whole lot, but when he does, he gets a little crazy. He will touch himself when he's gone on missions or when you're not around to help him. He whines for you, his hand moves up and down and lightly twists to add extra feeling. He likes to pay special attention to his tip.

Sometimes if he really misses you and can't hold out, he will hump himself into his bed and imagine you are there with him. He can get very needy when you're away, and sometimes he just can't help himself.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks):

Kurt is German, so he has a handful of kinks he likes that are out of the ordinary.

He has a religious and corruption kink, the idea of the blasphemy turns him on and he didn't even realize it until it was an accidentally discovered one night when you two were having sex. You decided to talk dirty to him, and while you generally leave his religion out of it, you said something that made him stiffen and instead of saying something to you about it his cock seemed to harden in your grasp and leak out extra precum.

You learned that he really enjoyed feeling like you were corrupting him. You don't go crazy, but you speak to him about his religion and corruption just enough to make him a mewling mess. Especially if you are roleplaying and he is a priest and you are the sinner corrupting his mind. He gets into it.

He might try some light bondage, nothing too crazy, but tying you up or having himself tied up might be fun. He doesn't like to use anything that would hurt, so no rough ropes or hard metal cuffs. He sometimes wraps his tail around your wrists to hold them above your head or behind your back.

He has a secret breeding kink, hence why he loves doggy so much. He feels like he can let go and pound into you, filling you up and moaning about how many little bamfs you will have (regardless of gender lol it's all for play anyway).

L = Location (favorite places to do the do):

He likes to do things in the comfort of his or your bedroom for the most part, but he isn't opposed to doing it other places. He wouldn't mind going to the roof at night for some fun, or teleporting to the woods, or to places like the danger room when it's unoccupied. (Professor X totally didn't see you two on the security footage).

But mostly just likes to stick to the bedroom. He can enjoy you fully there without feeling rushed or worried about being caught or seen, and he can properly take care of you there.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going):

Praise towards him gets him riled up like no other. Telling him he did good in something, but really putting emphasis on it makes his cheeks turn purple and his underwear feel tight.

Also learning to speak things in German to him turns him on like crazy, especially if you learned how to say something dirty on your own and randomly saying it to him. He will pounce on you immediately.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs):

Kurt wouldn't want to hurt you or be hurt himself. He takes intimacy seriously, despite him being able to be playful. He would never harm you.

If you treat him poorly or go too far with your dirty talk to the point where it sounds degrading, he won't enjoy it. He's been through a lot of negative experiences and a lot of it was verbal, so anything that sounds similar to that will be a no go for him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.):

Kurt is a giver, so he would jump on you any chance he got. His tongue is incredibly skilled, he knows just how to lap and flick, can mix licking and sucking perfectly. He knows where your clit is and finds it every time, teasing that little button with the swirl of his tongue and sloppy kisses. He loves to tease you, holding your hips still while he buries his nose into your pubic bone and eats you like a starved man.

On the other hand, he knows how to work around a dick, he likes to give teasing kisses and kitten licks before taking you fully and sucking. He will gradually build up to deepthroating, he likes to look up at you with you fully in his throat because you make the best noises for him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.):

Kurt is very adaptive to your preferences. He will pretty much do whatever you ask, whether it be slow or fast, rough or gentle. However he doesn't ever get too rough with you.

If Kurt is bottoming, he usually likes it slow and steady, he likes to feel every thrust given to him. But sometimes, he gets so pent up and horny, he wants you to fuck him good.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.):

He wouldn't mind doing them. He likes to pull you away, sneaking you behind a wall or teleporting you to an empty room and getting a quick fuck in.

Kurt would prefer to have all the time in the world with you, but he understands that sometimes you just need a quick release, and so does he.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.):

Kurt is pretty open minded to things, he'd be willing to try just about everything once.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?):

His stamina is very good, I mean he was a trapeze artist and that takes a lot of strength and stamina to do. He can thrust and fuck for quite a long time.

As far as how many rounds he could do, probably only two or three, but he prefers to have one big orgasm inside you rather than dragging it out for too long.

Kurt can last for a while, but generally he only lasts from 10 minutes to an hour, not including foreplay. Which doesn't sound like a lot, but 10 minutes of constant thrusting does get tiring.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?):

He does have some toys for himself. He has a small bullet vibrator he likes to hold on the underside of his cock, right beneath his tip, it drives him crazy and gets him there fast.

He has some other toys for exploratory things like anal, but wouldn't bring them up with you unless you expressed interest.

If you own toys, he would be down to using them on you for sure. He encourages you to show him how you like to use them so he can learn what you like too.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease):

Kurt is a huge tease. He likes to bring you sooo close, then stop and watch you whimper and squirm. That cheeky grin, watching you unravel and become more and more desperate for him gets him going, so when he does finally penetrate you, you're nearly cumming just from that. But when he does allow you to cum after teasing you for so long, it feels so incredible.

Vise versa, Kurt cannot stand being teased, he is a puddle if you bring him close and then stop. He begs and whines, but knows you're only doing it because he did it to you, and his sweet sounds are so good to listen to.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.):

He can be very loud. Kurt makes an array of different noises when you are together. All of which turn you on even more because he isn't afraid to be loud with you.

He will whimper and whine, moan and groan, and mewl with pleasure. He begs for more from you, talks dirty in German to you, and his accent makes him sound even more desperate sometimes.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character):

Kurt doesn't cuss a whole lot, but if he's super into it, he will let out a spray of German curses while he is inside you or you inside him, and generally right before he's about to cum.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes):

Germans have nice sizes, so Kurt can range from 7-7.5 inches depending on how long it's been since he had sex and how horny he is.

His cock is blue like him, obviously, and his head is a purple-ish blue that grows brighter when more aroused. It's a very pretty cock, and he blushes like crazy when you tell him that.

He is girthy, just enough to stretch you good when he penetrates you. You will need a second to get used to him, but he won't hurt you terribly.

When he's erect, his cock springs up and curves upward slightly.

Even flaccid, he is still large, his length flaccid is about 4 inches.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?):

Kurt can go without sex for a long time. He has bursts where he is horny a lot and his drive is high, but then he has bursts where he isn't. It depends on his own hormones and his partner. He would never pressure you if he is horny and you aren't, he always wants you to feel comfortable.

Sex isn't a necessity in the relationship, and while he can get pretty kinky and lustful, he ultimately sees sex as another way to connect with his partner in a way no one else can. Being vulnerable and intimate like this makes him feel so special and he hopes that you feel that way too.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards):

Kurt can fall asleep quickly after sex, but he won't allow himself to unless you are completely satisfied and taken care of. He goes through his entire aftercare routine before he will lay down with you.

Once you are cleaned up, fed and given water, he will slip in next to you and curl up right beside you, whispering 'I love yous' and gentle praises, laying sweet kisses along your temple and forehead.

Thanks for reading <3

*BAMF*

dividers by @/adornedwithlight

[ahqkas]

♯ TEMPI DIFFICILI ; theodore nott

PAIRING! theodore nott x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS! theo comes to your rescue in the foreign world of english and self-centered gits (based on this req.!!)

WARNINGS AND TAGS! italian reader, translation of foreign language, fluff, mutual pinning

WORD COUNT! 1.3k

NOTES! part one !

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

MOVING OUT OF AMERICA WAS THE CHANGE YOU DIDN'T KNOW YOU NEEDED IN YOUR LIFE. Once you left and didn't look back, the energy in your surroundings seemed to change, shifting from the dull depressions of your previous life to a lively atmosphere. The decision to leave had been haunting you for the first nights at Hogwarts, often ending in you lying face flat against the pillows as you overthought the past few days. To put it simply, the last few days were an absolute hell.

The stone hallways of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry always seemed to be packed with students and stray pets. The ghost made their appearances as well. And the passageways could be pretty confusing, too. Long corridors you could and would get lost in if you weren't in the presence of your new trustful friends or paying enough attention haunted you in your scariest nightmares after you managed to get late to your herbology class. The frown of the professor and the curious stares of your new classmates still appeared in your vision even behind closed eyelids.

The people here were the worst, you decided. Some of them were really friendly and helpful. The majority, however, seemed to carry a veneer of politeness that quickly shifted into judgement. You had been hopeful when you first arrived, thinking that the cultural exchange would be enchanting, that you'd meet more friends and learn about their world. But reality had other plans.

In your DADA class, you struggled to follow Professor Snape's instructions, his voice a low, disdainful drawl that only heightened the level of your anxiety. His critical gaze seemed to linger on you longer than anyone else, making you fumble with your words more frequently. The other students glanced at you with a mix of pity and amusement.

During meals in the Great Hall, you found a quiet seat for you to sit on, your plate filled with unfamiliar dishes. The food was decent, but you missed the flavors of home. Conversations around you flowed with topics you couldn't quite grasp, from Quidditch matches to obscure magical theories. You tried to join in, but your attempts were often met with puzzled looks or polite nods, the conversations quickly moving on without you.

Theodore Nott befriended you when no one noticed your lonely presence. He had been protective of you. He admired your resilience, moving from sunny Italy to rainy England, where everything seemed different — from the weather to the culture and especially the language. Hogwarts was a maze of new experiences, and despite your best efforts, the British slang and unfamiliar dialects sometimes made you feel like an outsider.

One dreary afternoon, you found yourself alone in the courtyard, your nose buried in a book as you tried to acclimate to your new surroundings. A group of students, Gryffindors from the look of their crimson and gold ties, approached you with their looks full of curiosity and amusement. At first, they seemed friendly enough, their smiles warm and inviting as they asked casual questions about your home and how you were settling in. But the conversation quickly took a darker turn.

"Come on, say something in English," one of the boys jeered, his tone mocking now. "Or is it too hard for you?"

You flushed, a mix of embarrassment and anger coiling in your chest like a fierce snake. You felt your heart rate quicken as your mind scrambled for the right words. "I . . . I can speak English," you stammered, your accent thick and your voice shaking as your anxiety skyrocketed.

Another boy snickered. Cruel. "Barely. It's like listening to a baby."

The laughter that followed after felt like a knife twisting in your gut. Your hands trembled and you fought the urge to turn around and run. The words you wanted to get out got tangled, making it impossible to form a coherent sentence. Your cheeks burned crimson.

"What's the matter, witch? Cat got your tongue?"

But before you could respond, you heard a familiar voice cut through the air.

"What the hell are you doing?" Theodore's voice was sharp, his eyes blazing as he approached the group.

The Gryffindors turned, their expressions shifting from the cruel amusement to frightened caution. The Slytherin stepped between you and the boys, his posture rigid and protective.

"Mind your own business, Nott," one of the boys muttered, but the confidence in his voice wavered as Theodore Nottingham towered over them menacingly, his dead eyes low and casting a glare one wouldn't wish to receive.

"Theo," you whispered, tugging at his sleeve, but he ignored you, his focus locked on the boys.

"Non ho intenzione di lasciare che vi prendiate gioco di lei," the boy snapped, his voice quiet and dangerous as the anger flowed through him. ("I'm not going to let you make fun of her.")

"What's he saying?" one of the boys asked, looking uneasy.

Theo switched to English, his words cold and precise. "I'm saying you need to back off. Now."

The Gryffindors exchanged glances, the bravado seeping out of them. "Fine," one of them grumbled, "we're leaving."

They shuffled away, casting nervous glances over their shoulders. As they disappeared from sight, Theo turned to you, his expression softening instantly. He reached out, gently intertwining your fingers with his.

"Stai bene?" he asked, his voice filled with concern. ("Are you okay?")

"Grazie, Theo," you gave him a gentle smile. ("Thank you, Theo.")

"Non devi ringraziarmi, bella," he said softly, pulling you into a comforting embrace. ("You don't have to thank me, beautiful.")

You clung to him, the safety of his arms easing the hurt from the Gryffindors' taunts. Theo stroked your hair, his touch gentle and reassuring.

"Non permetterò mai a nessuno di trattarti così," he murmured, his lips brushing your forehead. ("I will never let anyone treat you like that.")

Standing there, wrapped in his embrace, you felt the weight of your struggles lift, if only for a moment. Theo had always been your protector, your anchor in this foreign world, and his fierce loyalty made you feel seen and valued in ways words couldn't express. The lingering scent of his cologne mixed with the faint aroma of the Hogwarts hallways, creating a comforting cocoon around you.

As the moments stretched, you found solace in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, a reminder that you weren't alone in this daunting new chapter of your life. The initial rush of anxiety and embarrassment began to ebb away, replaced by a profound sense of gratitude and warmth.

Theo gently pulled back, his hands still resting on your shoulders as he looked into your eyes. The intensity of his gaze made you feel as though he could see right through to your soul, understanding every unspoken fear and insecurity.

He smiled, a small but genuine curve of his lips that made your heart swell. "Andiamo," he said softly, taking your hand in his. "Lasciamo che questo posto sia un po' meno freddo." ("Let's go. Let's make this place a little less cold.")

Walking hand in hand through the corridors, you felt a renewed sense of hope. The cold, intimidating walls of Hogwarts seemed a little less daunting with Theo by your side. Each step forward felt lighter, the path ahead brighter.

As you reached your next class, Theo squeezed your hand one last time before letting go. "Ci vediamo più tardi," he said, his eyes lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary. ("I'll see you later.")

"Ci vediamo," you replied, a soft smile playing on your lips as you watched him walk away. ("See you.")

Entering the classroom, you felt a surge of confidence, bolstered by Theo's unwavering support. No matter how challenging things might get, you knew you had someone who believed in you, someone who would always be there to stand by your side.

And as you took your seat, ready to face whatever came next, you realized that maybe, just maybe, this foreign land could start to feel like home.

[joelscruff]

one day i'll feel alright (joel miller x reader) 18+

here it is... the Big One. i've been hyping up this part of my soft!dom joel series for a while now (probably too much, i'm sorry) but i'm so excited to finally share it with you guys. i just wanna note that this is not the end of soft!dom joel by any means. i wanna keep writing for these two as long as i can, just probably nothing else as long as this lmao 💖 enjoy! | masterlist summary: joel must finally face his demons when you don't return from patrol. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: fem!reader, age difference (reader is mid 20s, joel mid 50s), dom/sub dynamics (joel is dominant but not degrading or aggressive), hurt/comfort, angst, praise kink, dirty talk, bathing together, oral (both f and m receiving), unprotected p in v sex, size kink, orgasm denial, comeplay, come eating, yall this one is SO filthy be warned word count: 15k | ao3 spoilers: this contains vague spoilers for part two of the video game (and most likely for season two of the show). nothing too major (joel does NOT go golfing in this fic).

The patrol schedule is posted on Monday morning outside the community center and you're one of the first people to look at it, eyes frantically scanning for your name as your heart pounds in your chest. There's no way, you think to yourself, still searching, He wouldn't actually talk to Tommy about a schedule change.

You finally find your name and feel those annoyingly familiar angry tears begin to burn in your eyes.

"Fuck you," you mutter under your breath, shaking your head, "Fuck you, Joel."

You're no longer his patrol partner.

You briefly consider going to his house, pounding on his door until he answers and screaming in his face about how ridiculous and immature he's being, but you realize that doing so would make you just as immature. Instead, you just decide to pretend it never happened, like you never patrolled with him to begin with.

"Steve is nice," one of your friends says to you later, "I like him, you'll get along."

Who the fuck is Steve? you want to ask, but then remember that it's his name that has replaced Joel's on the schedule. To make matters even worse, you're no longer going up to the ski lodge and are instead going out past the perimeter, a patrol location known to encounter raiders pretty often. Fantastic.

--

The next time you see him is that night in the dining hall, sitting in his usual corner by himself and gulping down bites of chili like he hasn't eaten in weeks. It used to be endearing, those big bites, now it just pisses you off.

He doesn't look at you. Over the past few weeks you'd grown accustomed to him peering over at you every so often, giving you small smiles to acknowledge that he saw you and remembered what the two of you shared every weekend. Neither of you would talk about it; it was private and belonged on the mountain, which you were fine with. At least he'd give you those looks, those smiles, and remind you that you were his pretty girl, his little secret.

Now his lack of acknowledgement, his purposeful ignorance of your presence, it makes you feel sick. You end up having to excuse yourself before you do something you'll regret. Like punch someone.

--

Steve is nice, but that's your first immediate problem with him. He's too nice. He talks too much, constantly trying to fill a silence that doesn't need it, asks you way too many questions and doesn't seem even vaguely put-out when you give him the most basic possible answers. He's young, probably in his mid-thirties, and you find yourself desperately missing the long and comfortable silences you shared with Joel, his gruff sighs, his breathy chuckles, his music, his books, his age. You realize pretty quickly that you view Steve as a boy and not a man, despite him being older than you. Internally, you tell yourself you need to get a grip.

Your new patrol location isn't as bad as you'd first thought; you're stationed in an abandoned cabin in a wooded area past the perimeter. It's cozy and inviting, kind of reminds you of the ski lodge, which quickly makes you feel depressed. You both take turns circling the area - although at first Steve had suggested you do it together; you'd vetoed that immediately. Your main responsibilities are checking traps and watching out for infected. It's actually a bit more engaging than your previous patrol which you feel slightly grateful for; it's nice to feel busy. And to shut your thoughts up.

At the end of your first patrol with Steve you both walk back to Jackson together in the early morning, him still continuing to chat and tell you things about himself regardless of whether you respond. You're almost back to town when you notice that you're suddenly on the same path you and Joel used to take, the one that leads up to the mountain. You stop in your tracks.

"What time is it?" you ask, interrupting whatever Steve had been prattling on about.

He looks down at his watch, "Almost six," he smiles at you, "We'll be back just in time for breakfast."

Almost six; around the time you and Joel would usually be reaching the bottom of the mountain. Your eyes scan the tree line, brow furrowing as you search for any sign of him making his way down the path. Steve stands there awkwardly, waiting for you to say something.

"Should we...?" he gestures toward the path you're both on, toward town, and you bite your lip in thought.

"Just gimme a sec," you say quickly, still searching, "I wanna say hi to my old patrol partner."

"Aw, that's sweet," he says with a smile, and it's so earnest and endearing that you can't necessarily be annoyed, "My old patrol partner, we-" he starts chatting again, buying you some more time.

Not more than a moment later, two figures suddenly emerge from the trees: Joel and Tommy. You feel your heart start to pound as they walk down the path, neither seeing you and Steve standing there until they're almost directly in front of you. They're caught up in some kind of deep conversation, you might even call it an argument judging by Tommy's stiffness and Joel's flared nostrils.

Tommy sees you first, giving you a wave and a smile, then nudging Joel. Joel follows Tommy's eyeline and suddenly freezes in his tracks, standing still on the path while Tommy continues to approach you.

"Good patrol?" he asks, nodding to Steve, "No trouble?"

"No, sir," Steve says, eager and polite, kind of like a golden retriever puppy, "No problems whatsoever."

"Glad to hear it," he looks at you again, "Hey, mind if we meet later for a chat?"

You wonder if he wants to chat about whatever he'd just been arguing about with Joel. Intrigued, you nod, "Sure."

Joel reaches you then, pace slow and hesitant. You turn to look at him, trying not to let the anger you feel toward him completely overtake you; the last thing you need right now is to either start crying or yelling.

"Hey," you say with a stiff nod.

"Hi!" Steve says beside you, and you try not to wince as he puts his hand out, waiting for Joel to take it, "I'm Steve."

Joel simply stares at him, then his hand, and then looks at you, eyes dark and cold. His gaze slips between the two of you back and forth for a few seconds, expression unreadable, then continues down the path without speaking.

"Meet me by the stream 'round noon, alright?" Tommy says, backing away to follow Joel, "I'll bring you lunch."

You watch as he catches up to Joel, says something to him, but Joel doesn't respond and just keeps on walking ahead, pace quicker and quicker. You're still just standing there watching their forms get smaller when Steve finally speaks again:

"He's...uh...friendly."

You laugh without humor, hitching your pack up your shoulder and starting to walk, "Oh, you have no idea."

--

You meet Tommy around noon by the stream like he'd asked, crossing the bridge and giving him a small wave of acknowledgement as you approach. He's got a paper bag with him; lunch, just like he'd promised.

"Tuna fish," he says with a kind smile, chuckling at the face you make as he hands the bag to you, "It was either that or egg salad."

"The dining hall must stink today," you reply with a scrunch of your nose, but you take the bag gratefully, "Thanks, Tommy."

"No problem," he gestures toward the bench he's sitting on, inviting you to join him, "Let's talk."

He talks and you mainly listen, nodding along every so often and chewing your tuna sandwich thoughtfully. He starts by thanking you for "everything" you did for him and Maria, which you quickly dodge because all you'd done is take a patrol off his hands - a patrol that's gone back to being his again, but he doesn't mention that part. He talks about how big a help you've been, how he's glad you're here, all the basic stuff he's already told you before. You're almost done your sandwich when you realize he's talking complete bullshit.

"Tommy," you say, balling the paper bag up and shoving it into your pocket, "If you wanna talk about Joel, just do it."

He freezes, recognition dawning in his eyes as he sighs and presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose. It's a habit he and Joel share, and you can't help but feel an ache in your heart when the image of Joel doing the same thing crosses your mind.

"I'm sorry about the switch," he finally says with a deep sigh, "Joel told me to do it. Not asked, told. He was pretty obstinate, told me it wasn't workin' between you two anymore and he wasn't gonna stay on ski lodge if you were there."

The words sting, even coming from Tommy. You swallow the last of your sandwich and cast your eyes down to the stream, watching the water ebb and flow as Tommy continues to speak.

"I just want you know that if I had it my way, you'd still be up there with him," he says it earnestly, and you understand now why he'd led with all the compliments and reassurances; he'd thought you didn't know why you'd been switched.

"I know," you say quietly, "Tommy, I know it was Joel's idea. He told me last patrol that he was gonna ask you to take me off ski lodge."

"But why?" he sounds genuinely confused, "It was working so well, Maria and I thought you had a great thing goin'."

You nod slowly, refusing to look at him, "We did. But I guess he never told you any details?"

You sense him shake his head beside you, "No, I spent almost the whole patrol trying to get him to talk about it and he wouldn't. Just kept saying it wouldn't work anymore and that he wasn't gonna say anythin' else about it. Stubborn, my brother. Always has been."

I know, you want to say, believe me, I know.

"So I figured I'd ask you."

You finally look over at him then, "There's not much to say, Tommy."

"But there's somethin'," he leans forward, looking concerned, "I know my brother, I know when he's hidin' somethin'. There's somethin' he's not telling me and I want you to tell me 'cause otherwise I'm just gonna assume the worst."

"Which is...?"

He sighs, leaning back against the bench again, "I don't even know."

You touch the back of your neck awkwardly, trying to decide how to word it. There's absolutely no way you're giving him all the details - or any details for that matter - but you do owe him some kind of explanation considering he's now losing his free time again over this.

"Me and Joel, we..." you bite your lip, "We had...." you sigh and shake your head, "Okay, what I'm about to say does not leave this bench, Tommy. You can tell Maria but that's it."

"Oh shit," he says, eyes going wide, "Were y'all fuckin' up there?"

You groan, leaning forward as your arms fall to your knees and you cover your face with your hands. He's not necessarily correct, but somehow the reality is much more embarrassing to admit. You don't say anything in response, confirming his suspicions.

"Jesus Christ," he says, voice full of genuine surprise, "I was...holy shit, I was not expectin' that."

"Anyway," you say into your hands, skin turning bright red beneath your fingertips, "It's over now and he doesn't want me up there with him anymore, that's all you need to know, okay?"

"Yeah," Tommy says immediately, "Yeah, sure, of course. I wouldn't dream of -" he makes a weird noise, "God, I did not think that's what was goin' on."

"Sorry," you wince, pulling your hands away and sitting up again to look at him. He looks genuinely uncomfortable, arms crossed as he shifts next to you on the bench, cogs turning in his mind. He's probably thinking about what exactly the two of you have been doing up there when you're supposed to be patrolling and the very thought makes both of you cringe simultaneously.

"No, don't apologize, I asked," he shakes his head again, eyes still wide, "I, uh, I won't tell anybody, no worries."

"You can tell Maria," you reiterate, "I don't want you keeping anything from your wife."

"I'll tell her but I doubt she'll believe me," he's staring ahead, still in shock, "You? With Joel? I'm sorry but..." he laughs loudly, still shaking his head, "I didn't think my brother had it in him."

You make a face and stand up, "Okay, that's my cue to leave."

"No, sorry, I'll leave," he stands up as well and digs his hands down into his pockets awkwardly, "I'll uh... be at the bar, if you need me."

He goes to cross the bridge but stops halfway, turning slowly and giving you one last kind and gentle look, apologetic.

"Hey, I'm sorry it didn't work out," he says, and you can tell he means it, "You're real sweet, my brother's just an ass."

"I know," you say with a small nod, "You did warn me."

"I did," he says it sadly, looking down at the stream, "He has his reasons, though. Maybe he'll tell you one day."

"Maybe."

He turns back around and walks away, leaving you standing there alone by the stream with an ache in your heart that won't go away.

He was pretty obstinate, Tommy's words echo in your head, told me it wasn't workin' between you two anymore and he wasn't gonna stay on ski lodge if you were there.

You stare at the steady flowing water and try not to think about how much it hurts to know he really said that to Tommy. Is that how little you mean to him? How little what the two of you shared meant? You've known the whole time that it wasn't a "real" relationship, you haven't even kissed him for god's sake, but it was a relationship nonetheless. A little weird, a little timid, but soft and new and safe and warm. And all along you'd just been a distraction for him.

In the deepest parts of yourself you've known this all along, remembered how many times in the past few weeks he said that it would be the last time, that he couldn't do it anymore, and you'd just continued to persist and persist until he'd finally had enough. You hadn't really thought he'd end it, didn't think he really meant it.

The tears start flowing before you can stop them. You continue to just stand there dejectedly, staring at the water and trying to figure out what exactly it is about you that made him simply stop caring - if he even cared to begin with.

A rustle of branches makes you jump and your head snaps up, looking toward the sound. A short distance away you catch a bush moving in an unnatural sort of way, shaking back and forth like someone had been watching from behind it. Quickly, you dash forward and pull the leaves apart to find the culprit.

No one's there.

Hurriedly you wipe your face and walk across the bridge, shoving your hands back in your pockets and hoping someone hasn't just witnessed your moment of weakness. And if they have, they'd better keep it to themselves.

--

Another week passes without any acknowledgement from Joel. You decide to stop eating in the dining hall because it hurts too much, instead grabbing your meals to-go and eating them either in your house or by the stream. On one occasion you'd arrived at the stream at the same time Ellie had decided to sit and practice guitar, freezing in place when you saw her. You hadn't spoken since that one very brief conversation months ago when she'd asked about your scars. You hadn't known then what you know now.

"Hey," she'd said with a nod, then went back to strumming aimlessly on her guitar, "You can eat your lunch here, I don't mind."

You'd shaken your head and taken a step back, "No, that's okay, sorry," then you'd turned and practically run away from her, not entirely sure why.

She reminds you of Joel, you dummy, you'd thought to yourself on the walk back home, biting down on your lip and trying to keep the tears at bay this time. Everything reminds you of Joel.

--

On Saturday morning you hear a knock at your door. You're still in bed, confused and bleary eyed as you sit up and wait to hear it again, just to be sure you're not still dreaming. When you hear a second series of knocks you practically tumble out of the bed and run downstairs, blanket trailing behind you as you dart to the front door.

It's Joel, it has to be Joel, he's here to apologize, he's gonna kiss you and tell you he's sorry.

You yank open the door and feel your face fall immediately when you see none other than Steve standing there, hands on his hips. He grins at you but it falters slightly when he looks down and sees that you're still in your pajamas.

"Morning, sleepy head," he greets you, reaching forward to playfully bump your arm with his fist, "Looks like someone missed their alarm."

You stare at him, vision still slightly blurred from sleep. You reach up to rub your eyes so you can see him clearer, make sure he's actually standing there in front of you. Yup, he is.

You force yourself to smile back - something which takes a lot of effort but he seems to find genuine - and reply, "My bad, I guess I did."

"No worries," he says with another wide grin, "We got some time before we need to leave, no rush!"

You force one last smile and shut the door in his face, trying not to slam it - even though you really want to. You look at the clock on the wall over your fireplace and make a face: 4:30. He woke you up at 4:30, half an hour before your alarm.

"Steve, I swear to god," you grumble to yourself, heading for the bathroom as you drop your blanket to the floor and clamor back up the stairs; there's no point in going back to sleep, you're wide awake now and pissed.

You know who'd never do this? Joel.

After a shower and a quick bowl of cereal you head back out to meet Steve, prepared to put on your best everything is great impression again. You stop dead in your tracks as soon as you open your door.

"Listen, sir, I think you should leave," Steve is saying, voice cracking slightly as he talks to the figure in front of him.

It's still dark outside; the sun hasn't come up yet and everything is muted and hard to make out. It takes you a few seconds to figure out who Steve is talking to, the figure shrouded in shadow and half hidden behind Steve's tall form. You feel your face go pale when you hear him reply.

"You didn't answer my question," the growl is unmistakably Joel's and you grip the edge of the door in your hands tightly, not opening it all the way as you eavesdrop. What the fuck is he doing here? What question?

"I don't think I owe you a reply," Steve replies, attempting to stand his ground but sounding pretty pathetic, voice shaky and high, "I think you should move along, sir."

"What the fuck are you doing at this girl's house at four in the fucking morning?" Joel practically spits, taking a step toward Steve. In response, Steve takes a step backward. He's not a confrontational guy, you know that from the one patrol you've spent with him, "Answer me."

"I'm her patrol partner," Steve finally says, putting his hands up in defeat, "I'm waiting for her to get ready."

"Patrols don't start 'til five thirty."

"It's true, I swear, you literally met me last week!"

That seems to stump Joel, and he must be trying to figure out what to say next when you shove the door open and walk out onto your porch.

"Joel, what the fuck are you doing?" you ask, voice steady and firm. He looks over at you in surprise, backing away from Steve. Is it just your imagination or did his expression soften when he saw you? But that doesn't matter now.

You walk down the steps of your patio and stand in front of Steve, shoving him behind you lightly, "Steve, I'll meet you at the gate," you say firmly.

"But-"

"Steve. Please leave. I'll meet you in a few minutes."

"...Okay," you can't see him but you hear him walk away from you, trudging down the gravel path in the opposite direction. Once his footsteps are faint enough, you finally address Joel again.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" you repeat, "Why are you berating Steve in front of my house?"

"Who the fuck is Steve?" Joel asks; the question of the hour.

"My patrol partner," you reply, shaking your head, "I mean, you should probably know that seeing as you're the one who switched with him."

"I don't know who I switched with, Tommy did that," he retorts, looking away from you, down at his boots, "Wasn't my decision."

"Right, 'cause nothing's ever your fault, right?"

He looks back up, a glint of emotion in his eyes that you've seen only once before, "You have no fucking idea," he says, voice heavy and gruff, "Don't even-"

"Don't even what, Joel? You're the one standing in front of my house at the ass crack of dawn yelling at some guy you've never even talked to before. Steve's actually great, by the way," you're laying it on thick but you don't care; you want him to think you've moved on, "Patrolling with him is much better than patrolling with you."

He raises an eyebrow, "Is that so?"

"Yeah," you lie, cheeks going red with anger, "He actually talks to me."

"And fucks you, I gather?" he says it with a hard edge that makes your blood run cold.

You stand there just staring at him, mouth agape as he lets what he just said wash over you. You inhale and exhale deeply, feeling those godforsaken tears sting in your eyes as you take a step away from him, genuinely fearful that you might end up slapping him or punching him or doing something you shouldn't.

"Fuck you," your voice is small and broken and the tears are already flowing, "Fuck you, Joel."

His expression changes then, and you know an apology is coming. You put your hand up before he can speak, shaking your head.

"Don't," you say, firm and solid, not bothering to wipe your tears as they flick off your face into the grass below, "We're done." You turn on your heel and stomp away from him, feeling a sob wrack through you as you cross your arms and speed walk to the main gate where you know Steve is waiting.

Joel doesn't follow you.

--

Steve knows better than to question you about what happened. As soon as you'd approached him at the gate he'd seen your tears and the shake of your head when he'd opened his mouth to say something. Ten minutes later you were on your way out to the cabin again without either of you saying a word.

Now you're back on patrol with an aching heart and a huge lump in your throat that won't go away no matter what you do, trailing the perimeter back and forth with your head hung and eyes downcast. Joel's words repeat over and over in your head like a curse, damning you into a feeling of guilt that you don't think you really deserve. You haven't done shit with Steve, the assumption that you'd just immediately moved on from your sexual relationship with Joel to another man makes your blood boil. Who the fuck does he think you are?

Do you really even know him? This whole time he's remained so secretive and aloof, mysterious and cryptic. You hadn't pushed him to reveal more about himself, hoping eventually he'd open up to you, but he never did. Just kept you on a short leash with good girl and pretty girl and the way he'd look at you in those moments where you bared yourself to him.

But you're not much better, you remind yourself with a grimace, and you know it's true. You never told him much about yourself or your past. Yes, you would've, but you didn't. And you're the one who kept asking to get off with him, kept expecting more and being disappointed when he wouldn't give it to you even though he was clear about his boundaries.

"But that doesn't give him the right," you mutter to yourself, still walking through the muddy grass, deep in thought, "It doesn't make what he said okay."

No, it doesn't. But maybe he's hurting more than he lets on. Maybe this isn't as cut and dry for him as you'd thought. Why the fuck had he been snooping around your house so early this morning? He only lives a few houses down from you; had he seen Steve and felt he had to protect you? Does he actually care about you, as much as he tries to put on a front that it's only been sexual between you two and nothing more? Is that why he's been so distant?

You suddenly realize that you've gone much further than the perimeter, continuing to walk ahead instead of turning back and circling the area. You freeze, eyes scanning around as you try to discern exactly how far you've gone.

"Fuck," you mutter, turning around and starting to walk directly back the way you came, hoping it'll lead you right back to where you're meant to be.

--

It doesn't.

You'd been so lost in thought that somehow you've managed to lose the original path, the tall grass hiding any sign of your own footsteps. This is only your second time out here so nothing looks familiar; it's all grass and mud and trees and rocks. How long have you even been walking? Joel had once admonished you for not having a watch, said one day it was gonna bite you in the ass; you hate that he was right.

"Steve?" you call out, unsure if he'll be able to hear you since you don't know how far you've trailed from the cabin, "You there?"

No reply. You stop again and do another quick glance around, looking for anything that seems familiar to you. But no, this isn't the ski lodge perimeter where you'd grown accustomed to each tree, each stump, each rock. Nothing here is even vaguely telling you exactly where to turn.

You feel the dull throb of panic beneath the surface of your emotions but you quickly shove it down; you're good in situations like this, you've certainly been through enough shit to not get frightened over being a little lost. You've been lost before, you'll figure it out.

All the same, you keep track of the sun's location in the sky as you continue your directionless trek, noting that it's directly above you; noon. You have plenty of time before dark to find your way back, no sweat.

--

It must be around three o'clock when you finally make it back. Relief floods your entire body as you walk into the clearing and see the small wooden cabin sitting there still and picturesque, exactly how you'd left it. You bend down, closing your eyes and pressing your hands to your knees to take a few deep breaths and ground yourself. The panic had started to really settle in about an hour ago, but luckily it hadn't gotten to a point where you'd been too afraid to keep going.

"Steve," you say loudly, still breathing deeply, "I'm back."

No reply. You open your eyes again, heart still thumping in your chest as you eye the cabin for any sign of him. You walk over hesitantly, feeling a knot forming in your stomach when you open the front door and are greeted to a dark and empty cabin.

"Steve?" you say again, voice shaky.

No reply.

Fuck. He must have gone looking for you when you didn't come back to switch. Either that or he went back to Jackson, but you can't see a guy like Steve doing that. The way he'd stood up to Joel this morning, as embarrassing as it was, it had been enough to show you exactly what kind of man Steve is. He'd definitely gone to look for you. It's only fair that you do the same for him.

You grab a roll of twine from the cabin and start your search, making sure to mark the trees every now and then so you can find your way back again. You'd been advised in your patrol orientation not to do this because of raiders, but you doubt Tommy or Maria will give you shit for making sure you and Steve actually make it back to Jackson alive.

The thought makes the panic start to rise again, but you keep going.

--

You keep hoping you'll find some sign of Steve, but it's been about two hours and nothing has caught your eye. The twine is starting to run out and you fear you'll have to go back to Jackson without him, which will undoubtedly start a panic and a huge search party, all because you got a little distracted. This shit with Joel doesn't even matter anymore - you can't believe you let it affect you how it did. And now Steve is paying the price.

Another hour passes and you're preparing to turn back when you see it out of the corner of your eye. You freeze, hair standing up at the back of your neck when you look down to see shiny droplets of blood painting the grass.

You lean down instinctively, eyes wide, reaching forward to touch one of the many large red drops. It shivers beneath your finger, not yet fully dry. It's fresh.

Without hesitation you stand back up and pull your pistol out of its holster, cocking it and holding it steadily in front of you as you start to walk again. You have absolutely no idea what you're expecting to pop out at you; raiders? Infected? Or maybe Steve just cut himself somehow and you've taken your gun out for nothing.

A loud scream suddenly pierces the silence of the forest.

"STEVE!" you scream back, face going pale as you begin to sprint through the woods, gun still in front of you, "STAY WHERE YOU ARE, I'M COMING."

It's the last thing you say before you suddenly feel something tight grip your ankle and send you flying into the air, gun falling out of your hand. You find yourself completely upside down, entangled in a net.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You sway back and forth in the thick netting, trying to find your gun somewhere below you, but you quickly become much too dizzy to discern absolutely anything. You hear Steve's scream again, further away this time, and your blood runs cold. The panic takes over and you can't speak.

Please, you think to yourself, shutting your eyes tight and trying to keep the dizziness at bay, please don't let me die before I see him again.

It's not Steve you're thinking about.

It doesn't take long for the blood to rush to your head, for your body to go completely numb as you hang there upside down, completely alone. You pass out within minutes.

--

It's pitch black when you wake up.

You're no longer hanging from a tree in the forest, no longer tangled up in a net. Instead, you're lying on what feels like a concrete floor. Your head is pounding, lips dry and parched. Your whole body feels heavy and achy, so much so that you can barely move.

"She's awake," you hear a voice say somewhere close by; it's female and sounds familiar, but not enough for you to place it.

You hear the squeaky hinges of a door opening, then a few hushed whispers that you can't make out. The door shuts again and you swear you hear the sound of a deadbolt being locked in place.

"Where am I?" you finally whisper, voice rough and broken, "Let me go."

"You're in Jackson," the female voice replies, kind and gentle, "You're safe now."

"Who are you?" you can't bring yourself to open your eyes, unsure if this person is really telling you the truth.

"It's Ellie," the voice replies, and recognition dawns on you immediately, "Remember me?"

You nod slowly, wincing at the pain as you continue to lie there on the floor, "Y-yes."

"When you didn't come back this morning they sent out a search party. Tommy found you hanging in a tree, brought you back right away."

This morning? So you must have been hanging there all night. Jesus, no wonder you feel the way you do.

You finally open your eyes then, and are beyond relieved when your vision isn't dizzy and blurry like it had been before you'd passed out. You spot Ellie a few feet away, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, peering down at you with a soft expression.

"Steve?" you whisper.

Her brow furrows, "They found him too. I don't know the details but he was hurt pretty bad," she shakes her head, "They're gonna do everything they can."

You nod again, swallowing and wincing at the dryness of your throat, "C-can I have some water?"

"Oh, fuck, of course," she reaches behind her and grabs a bottle, then walks over to you. Her movements are slow, hesitant, and when she hands you the bottle her arm darts out and back extremely quickly.

You stare at her in confusion, slowly bringing yourself to sit up. She backs away from you again, presses herself against the wall and crosses her arms again. It's like she's feigning nonchalance.

Reality dawns on you.

"Am I bit?" you manage to whisper, clutching the water bottle tightly.

She swallows, looks directly in your eyes, "We're hoping you can answer that for us."

You slowly bring the water to your lips, mind racing. You try to remember anything beyond getting caught up in the net but there's absolutely nothing. If you'd been bit afterward, wouldn't it have woken you up? Wouldn't you feel the pain somewhere on you now?

You drink the entire bottle of water and place it next to you on the floor, then you begin to feel your body, placing your hands back and forth all over yourself and trying to find a particular spot that feels like it might have been bit. You come up blank; all that you feel is a steady ache from being numb for so long.

"I don't think so," you finally say, crossing your legs and bringing your hands to rest in front of you, "I feel okay."

"We only found you about two hours ago," she says softly, "So we weren't sure. This is where they keep people for observation, people who might be infected."

You assess your surroundings. You must be in some kind of shed; it's small and there's no furniture, only a single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. If you'd woken up alone you probably would've thought you'd been kidnapped. Your brow furrows and you look over at Ellie in confusion.

"If I might be bit, why are they keeping you in here with me?" you ask, bewildered, "It's not safe for you."

Ellie kicks her heel and shrugs, "I don't know, they just thought you shouldn't be alone when you woke up."

She's lying and you don't know why, but you don't have the energy to press her further. What's important is that you're not alone, and you appreciate that. You watch as she inhales deeply, lost in thought, then brings her fingers to the bridge of her nose and squeezes. Just like Joel.

Joel.

"Does he know?" you suddenly whisper.

You didn't say his name but she clearly knows who you're talking about. She sets her lips in a firm line, "Yeah."

You place your head in your hands and sigh loudly, shutting your eyes tight. You suddenly feel like you want to cry, just at the thought of that big, broad, grumpy man being told that you didn't come back from patrol. Had he been upset? Annoyed? Angry? Scared?

"He's freaking out," Ellie answers for you, voice quiet, "He punched Tommy in the face."

"What?" you stare at her, eyes wide, "Why'd he do that?"

She laughs softly to herself, shaking her head, "Tommy wouldn't let him go with the search party."

Your face scrunches in confusion, "Why not?"

She looks away from you then, eyeing the closed door, "Because Tommy thought his feelings would get in the way," her voice is slightly shaky, like she might cry, "He thought if they found you dead, Joel might not come back, might try to find the motherfuckers who did it and make them pay."

You're already shaking your head, "That's dumb, he wouldn't do that."

Ellie laughs again, turning back to look at you, "You really don't know anything about Joel, do you?"

You stare, waiting for her to speak again. She adjusts her position, slowly sliding down the wall and sitting across from you with her knees pulled up against her chest.

"Joel's killed a lot of people," she says quietly, looking over at you with tired eyes, "I mean, a lot of us have, I'm sure you have too. We've all done shit we're not proud of," she thumbs a tear on her jeans, biting down on her lip, "But when it comes to the people he cares about... Joel doesn't do things halfway, never."

You swallow, "Ellie, I don't think Joel cares about me in the way you're thinking."

She smiles then, small and hesitant, but still a smile, "As I said, you don't really know much about him. Not like I do."

"But-"

She puts a hand up, "I know about the two of you. I overheard you and Tommy talking last week."

You remember that afternoon by the stream, the rustle of the bushes, when you'd pulled the branches back expecting to see someone but found nobody there.

"That was you?" you ask, eyebrows raised, "By the stream?"

She nods, "I showed up to play my guitar and you guys were already there talking. I wasn't gonna listen but then I heard Joel's name and..." she sighs, looking down at her knees, "I might not be talking to Joel right now but I like to know what he's up to."

You nod slowly, "So...you heard about..."

"The mountain, yeah," she makes a face, "Listen, I don't want the details, trust me, but I wasn't surprised when you said that, not the way Tommy was anyway," she giggles, "I love seeing him get all uncomfortable, it's so funny."

You snort, shaking your head, "Please, it was so awkward."

"He really had no idea, but I think I did, somehow," she smiles again, wistful, "As I said, I might not be talking to Joel but that doesn't mean I don't look out for him, watch him, make sure he's doing alright," she looks down again, "I'm not heartless, okay?"

"I know," you say earnestly, "I know you're not."

"I knew something was different with him. He's been so quiet and sad, doesn't talk to people very much anymore, but these past few weeks it was like he had a pep in his step, like the old Joel was coming back," she smiles at the thought, "And then I saw the way he'd look at you in the dining hall, all those little smiles. And at first I was like...gross. But then..." she sighs, shaking her head, "I don't know, I think it's cute how much he likes you. How much you changed him."

Her words elicit a warmth in your chest, soft and safe, like the feeling of being in Joel's presence. You wrap your arms around yourself, huddling forward and continuing to listen.

"We were eating breakfast when Tommy announced the search party this morning. As soon as he said what had happened I looked over at Joel. He looked like he'd just received the worst news of his life," her voice shakes again, like she's on the verge of tears, "He ran up to Tommy, started asking questions about the search, when they were starting, what way they were going, all that. Tommy told him that he couldn't come, they argued, Joel punched Tommy and then I had to practically pull them apart."

"You?" your mouth is agape, "You stopped the fight?"

She nods with another small smile, "As soon as Joel realized it was me pulling on him, he stopped. I told him I knew about what was going on, I said I'd stay with him until you came back safe and sound."

You feel tears prick in your eyes at the words, "That must have meant a lot to him."

"It meant the world to him, I know that," she says quietly, "I haven't talked to him for a long time, I'm sure you know that."

You nod, "I do."

She's silent then for a few moments, staring at the closed door again. When she finally speaks, her voice is shakier than ever, "I sat with him in his living room until they got back with you and Steve. He wanted to see you but they wouldn't let him, so I volunteered to stay with you. That's why I'm here."

She leans back against the wall with a sigh, biting down on her lip. You see tears beginning to brim in her eyes and you look away, knowing you wouldn't want someone staring at you if it was you getting emotional.

"He's lost a lot, you know," she says softly, sniffling a little bit, "He lost his daughter a long time ago, and a woman named Tess he really cared about," she takes a breath, shaky and full of emotion, "He almost lost me, too. That's part of the reason we're not talking."

You stare at the concrete floor, letting her words sink in. A daughter? Joel had been a father? And Tess, who was she? A girlfriend? A wife? Clearly someone important, and he'd lost both of them.

You've been through your share of trauma, experienced your own losses, but never to that degree. You'd never gotten close enough to someone to really feel a loss like that, can't even imagine what it would feel like. Your heart aches for him; that stoic, quiet, and mysterious man who'd let you in but kept you at arm's length... for reasons you're beginning to understand.

You stand up slowly, wincing at the aches you feel, your skin feeling prickly and uncomfortable as your circulation continues to regulate. Ellie's words cycle through your mind as you stretch, ringing quiet and tender in your ears; I think it's cute how much he likes you. How much you changed him.

"When can I see him?" you ask softly, still avoiding looking at her as you pull at parts of your clothes, searching again for a bite you're pretty sure doesn't exist.

"I'll ask Maria," Ellie replies just as quiet, standing up as well and walking over to the door, "If you were bit you'd be showing signs by now, I think you're okay."

"Ask her about Steve too, please," you add, "I need to know if he's alive."

She nods and opens the door, then goes outside and shuts it behind her. You hear the deadbolt slide back into place.

You burst into tears.

--

Ellie returns with Maria about ten minutes later, both of them looking at you with kind and sympathetic expressions when they find you standing in the middle of the room sobbing your heart out. Without hesitation, Maria walks forward and wraps her arms around you tightly.

"It's okay, sweetie," she says softly in your ear, rubbing your back gently, "Steve's okay, he's gonna make it."

Ellie looks down when she says this, and part of you knows that she knows you're not crying about Steve.

--

They walk you home slowly, Maria on one side and Ellie on your other. You complain a bit, telling them you're okay to walk on your own, but neither pay your stubbornness any mind, just keep their arms linked through yours as they walk you to your house.

You're on your street when you see two figures up ahead, and your heart starts to pound harder and harder in your chest the closer you get. Because you know who it is.

Joel and Tommy are leaning against the banister of Joel's front patio, talking quietly to themselves. You grimace at the sight of Tommy's black eye but feel relief flood through you when you see that he's smiling at Joel, clearly no animosity present.

"Look who's up!" Ellie says loudly, and they both turn to look in your direction.

Joel freezes, staring at you for a few brief seconds of recognition before he's suddenly throwing himself from the patio and sprinting toward you. You feel both Ellie and Maria release you from their grips, right before you're suddenly enveloped in the warmest, sweetest, most sincere hug you've ever received in your life.

Throughout all these months of knowing Joel, he's never truly touched you. Sure, he's touched your hand, shook it during your official introduction, helped you stand up here and there. He's touched your face once, your lips twice. And he's touched you where you longed for him to, begged him to, but only for a moment, just one touch. Gentle, tender, but never long enough for you to really feel him the way you've wanted to.

Now he pulls you close without any hesitation, no rules, no consequences. He presses his lips to the top of your head and whispers your name over and over until it sounds like a mantra, a prayer.

"Joel," you breathe, and you feel the tears start up again as you shut your eyes tight and just feel, listen to him say your name and hold you like you'll fall apart if he lets go.

"I thought I lost you," he says, voice rough and emotional, "Before I could even tell you how sorry I am."

"Shh," you squeeze him tighter, burying your face in his strong chest, "Don't worry about that, I'm here. I'm okay."

He holds you impossibly tighter and you hear the unmistakable sound of a sob rip through his teeth, tears dripping from his face into your hair. You pull back just enough to look up at him, see him peer down at you with an expression on his face that you've never seen before, impossibly soft and fond, eyes bright and yearning. Love.

"I'm sorry," he repeats, inhaling shakily, "For everything."

You shake your head furiously, "Joel, it's oka-"

"It's not okay," he interrupts, voice breaking again, "I'm so sorry. Not just for what I said yesterday, but for everything else. For pushing you away, making you feel like it was your fault, I'm so fucking sorry," he pulls you in again, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head, "God, you have no idea how bad I've wanted to just hold you like this. I was such a fucking coward."

"You were afraid," you whisper, shaking your head, "I understand, Joel, I get it."

He lets out another sob, squeezes you tighter, "Don't let me go," he breathes, "Please don't let go."

For the entire hug you'd thought he was the one holding you, but you now realize that for him it's the other way around. You feel yourself start to cry harder as you pull him in tighter and just stand there, arms wrapped around his middle, face pressed against his chest as the beat of his heart thrums steadily in your ear. You both inhale and exhale deeply, moving as one being, one solid force. He kisses your head again and you melt further into his touch.

"I'm gonna head back to town," you hear Maria say softly nearby, probably to Tommy and Ellie, "Tommy, can you go check on Steve, make sure he's still doing okay?"

Joel stiffens at the name, suddenly pulling back from you to look over at Maria, "He alright?"

Maria nods, "Yeah," she turns to look at you then, expression serious, "He told us that when you didn't come back to switch patrols, he got worried, went out looking for you. Ended up running into a group of raiders, the same ones who set that trap you fell into. They stabbed him a couple times but nothing critical, he managed to get a few hits in himself before he got away, led them in the opposite direction."

"Jesus," you mutter, feeling guilt rush through you, "Are they still out there?"

"No," Tommy replies, shaking his head, "We took care of it. Steve knocked 'em around pretty good but we made sure none of 'em were breathin' by the time we left."

You nod slowly, still in Joel's embrace, "Tell him I'm sorry," you say quietly, "It's my fault."

"Shhh," Joel pulls you close again, rubbing your back gently, "Don't worry about that, let's get you inside."

"Make sure she has a bath," Maria says quickly, "Keep her warm, give her some food."

"I'm not a hamster," you groan, and you're surprised to hear Ellie laugh behind you. You'd forgotten she was there.

Joel suddenly pulls out of your embrace, still holding you with one arm while he reaches toward Ellie, "Come here," he says softly, "Please."

She shakes her head, taking a step back, "I'm going with Maria," she bites her lip, looks down and then looks back at Joel who's still staring longingly at her, "But I'll meet up with you later, okay?"

"Okay," he says quietly, voice still shaky, "Promise?"

She nods, gives him a small smile, "Promise."

--

"Where do you wanna go?" Joel had asked you softly, "Mine or yours?"

"Yours," you'd whispered immediately, no hesitation, "Please."

You now find yourself in Joel Miller's house, somewhere you never really ever pictured yourself. It's pretty similar to yours but there are a few differences, namely the amount of books and art. You hadn't known that Ellie was an artist; there are drawings all over his house, some in frames, some just laid around, all signed by Ellie, all beautiful. There's a picture she drew of him that he has framed on his fireplace, and you find yourself picking it up with a smile.

"Bath's almost ready," Joel says quietly behind you, and you spin back around. He looks at the picture in your hand, smiling softly, "Ellie drew that."

"She's really talented," you reply with a smile, "Wonder where she gets all this artsy fartsy stuff from?"

He chuckles, still standing a few feet away from you, "It's a mystery."

You place the picture back down and turn to look at him, feeling a nervousness in the pit of your stomach that you haven't felt around him in a long time, not since that first night together. Things are different now, it's palpable, and both of you are aware of it.

"Will you take a bath with me?" you ask quietly, unsure.

He nods slowly, eyes trained on your face, "Of course I will."

--

The bath is warm and welcoming. Joel had told you to strip down, get in, and that he'd be back momentarily with some food for you. You can't help but feel a little disappointed that he hadn't stuck around to watch you undress, but maybe it would've been inappropriate considering the circumstances.

You ease yourself under the water, a satisfied moan escaping your lips as the bath completely envelops you. He's put something in the water to make it smell good, lavender or vanilla. It instantly relaxes you, the heat of the water and the delicious smell making you feel completely at ease.

You lay there for a few minutes in silence, eyes closed, focusing on your breathing and bringing things back into perspective. You're okay, you're safe. Steve is okay, he's safe. You're both back in Jackson. You're with Joel, you're in his bath tub, he's downstairs making you lunch. Everything is okay.

Ellie's words filter through your brain again, distant but present; He lost his daughter a long time ago, and a woman named Tess he really cared about.

A light knock on the bathroom door shakes you from your thoughts. You smile, "Come in."

Joel enters the bathroom, bowl of soup in one hand and a tall glass of water in the other. He places them on the chair next to the tub, eyes avoiding you as he focuses on the task at hand. He kneels by the tub and spoons some of the soup carefully, then finally looks at your face as he brings the spoon to your mouth. You open, letting him feed you, letting him take care of you.

"Good?" he asks softly, gaze still on your face, ever the gentleman.

"Good," you say with a smile.

He feeds you a few more spoonfuls, smiling fondly at you as you eat. After a few moments of this you put your hand up, shaking your head, "That's enough for now, why don't you get in with me?"

His gaze finally falls then, looks at your body beneath the water, sees your nipples poking through the surface. He sighs, leans back a bit on his knees and shakes his head.

"I don't know if that's a good idea," he says quietly.

"Joel," you say quickly, voice steady, "Don't pull away from me. Not now. Not anymore."

He looks at your face again, expression sad and distant, "I'm afraid," he admits, "I'm afraid of being close to you."

"I know," you whisper, and you reach over to place your hand over his, stroking him gently with your thumb, "It's okay. It's okay to be afraid."

"I've lost a lot of people," he whispers, tears shining in his eyes, "I thought...I thought if I let myself get close to you, if I gave you what you wanted...I'd get attached. I'd fall for you," he says it earnestly, voice breaking slightly on the last few words, "But here I am, fallin' for you anyway."

You smile at him, soft and loving. You squeeze his hand and slowly sit up in the bath, putting yourself on display for him. His eyes don't leave yours, but he swallows and tenses his jaw at your movement.

"Bad things have happened to the people I care about," he says quietly, barely a whisper, "And you're young, you're beautiful, you have this whole life ahead of you and I'm-" his voice breaks and he looks down again, tears cascading down his cheeks, "I'm scared you'll end up like those people, dead and gone because of me."

"Joel-"

"And I'm scared I don't deserve it," he interrupts, looking up at you again, mouth trembling, "I don't think I deserve love. I don't deserve someone like you 'cause of everything I've done."

"What about Ellie?" you ask softly, squeezing his hand reassuringly, "She's alive and she loves you."

He scoffs, shaking his head, "She hates me."

"She doesn't hate you," you mean it, leaning forward to cradle his hand in both of yours, "I talked to that girl for the first time today, really talked to her, and I can see it plain as day. She loves you more than you could ever know, Joel."

"She stayed with me today," he whispers shakily, nodding slowly, "She sat with me 'til we knew you were safe."

"And you think that's hate?" you ask softly, "Joel, that's love."

He looks at you again, expression pained. You bring his hand to your lips, press a gentle and tender kiss to every knuckle, showing him how much he's worth, how much he means to you.

"I'm afraid," he repeats through his tears, watching you kiss him, "I'm afraid to want you the way I do."

You release his hand and lean back slightly in the tub, extending your arm for him to take, gazing at him with all the love and care you can muster, "Get in with me," you whisper, the splash of water the only sound in the room save for your heartbeats, both of which you swear you can hear, "Don't be afraid."

His eyes cast downward to your lips and he swallows again, then looks back up into your eyes, "Okay."

You watch as he stands up and starts to unbutton his shirt. You can tell that he's extremely nervous, his fingers trembling as he fights to get each button open.

"I'm gonna close my eyes," you say tenderly, "And when you're ready, tap my shoulder and I'll let you in behind me, okay?"

He nods slowly, fingers frozen on the third button, "Okay," he repeats.

You close your eyes and lean back, listening to the rustle of clothes beside you as he undresses. You're not used to this Joel, the one who seems powerless and submissive. You're not usually the one giving him orders, it's always been the other way around. You know he's just nervous, afraid of being close to you like this, and all you want is for him to feel relaxed again in your presence, feel like himself.

After a moment he taps your shoulder; you lean forward in the bath and feel him ease in behind you, his legs entrapping yours along the edges of the tub. He seats himself down, places his hands around your middle and pulls you in close. You feel his groin press against your lower back; you've never felt his cock before, and somehow the casual intimacy of his softness pressed against you makes you smile.

"You can open your eyes," he whispers, then presses a gentle kiss to the back of your neck.

You do as you're told, immediately seeing the way his legs are splayed out in front of you, long and strong beneath the water. You've never realized how small you are compared to him until this moment, completely enrobed in his body, heart thrumming against your back.

"This is heaven," you whisper, leaning back against him and closing your eyes again, "This is what I wanted, all along."

"I think you wanted a bit more than this," he replies with a chuckle, kissing your neck again, "And you'll get it, I promise. Let's just...let's just sit here for a little while first, alright?"

"As long as you need to," you murmur, and you swear you feel him smile against your skin.

--

You bathe together for a long time, just laying in each other's embrace and enjoying the company. Being this close to Joel truly is everything you could have ever hoped for, his strong arms wrapped around you as he noses your neck and breathes you in, holds you against his naked body like you're meant to fit there. He's so big and warm; you've never felt more safe.

At one point you scooch back a bit in this embrace, feel your ass unintentionally rub lightly against his cock beneath the water. Neither of you say anything, but you both slowly become aware of the way he hardens, begins to grow larger against you.

A few moments later the head of his cock is pulsing against your lower back. Your eyes are lidded, heavy, head bobbing backward to nestle at the base of his neck. His hands on your belly move upward to cup your breasts, holding you firmly and securely against him.

"Joel," you whisper, "Touch me."

The words bring both of you back to the ski lodge, the power he holds over you there, the way you're always at his mercy. You hope, despite the new situation, he'll be that person again for you. You crave it, need it.

"Not yet," he murmurs in your ear, "Be patient, pretty girl."

There he is.

You swallow, close your eyes and submit completely as he palms your breasts, tweaks your nipples between his fingers gently. You whimper pathetically, shuffle back against his cock again, feel the hard length of it along your back.

"You were a bad girl yesterday," he whispers in your ear, tongue darting out to taste your skin, making you shiver, "And today. Gettin' lost like that, makin' me worry..."

"M'sorry," you murmur, hands moving down to grip his thighs as he brings your earlobe into your mouth and sucks it, "Didn't m-mean to make you worry."

"I think," he whispers, breath hot against your skin, "I'm finally gonna have to punish you."

The words send tingles up and down your spine, eyes almost rolling back in your head when he sucks your earlobe again, eliciting sounds from you that only he knows how to generate. You squeeze his thighs tighter, feeling your pussy begin to pulse beneath the water.

"How?" you breathe, voice weak.

He releases your ear and noses your cheek, brings one of his hands from your breasts and rests a finger against your chin. He turns your face to the side, urging you to look at him. His eyes are dark, full of want and desire, and you know you're completely at his mercy.

"I'm gonna fuck you, baby," he whispers, "Gonna fill that pussy up with my cock."

The words send you into a tailspin, a guttural whine escaping your lips as your fingers press into his thighs, rubbing your own together to seek some purchase against your heat. He smiles, presses a gentle kiss to your temple, drops his hands and places them over yours, big and strong.

"I know that's what you want," he whispers, entangling his fingers with yours over his thighs, "But I'm gonna give it to you over and over again, gonna make you come as many times as I want, 'til you're begging me to stop, tellin' me it's too much, that you couldn't possibly come again," he squeezes your hands, licks a stripe up the side of your neck, "And then I'll give you another one."

"Please," you breathe, voice broken and full of desire, "Please, fuck me, Joel. I need it so bad."

"I know you do, baby," he whispers, "So be a good girl for me and do as I say, okay?"

"Okay," you whimper, leaning back in his embrace, feeling his cock prod your back.

"Say it."

"I'll be your good girl," you whine, trembling under his gaze, "I'm your good girl, Joel. Only yours."

He groans softly in your ear, "That's right, baby," he releases your hands from beneath his and cups your breasts again, squeezing gently, "Now, open yourself up for me."

With trembling fingers you reach beneath the water and pull your lips apart, using both hands to spread yourself for him. The water tickles you, makes you quiver in his grasp as you slowly push your middle finger inside.

"There you go," he whispers, "That feel good, pretty girl?"

"Y-yes," you whimper, throbbing around your finger.

"Add as many as you like," he tells you, "Need to be nice and open for my cock."

The very thought of finally having him inside you makes you whimper again as you add a second finger, feeling his familiar gaze on your cunt. It's so different this time, feeling how hard he is against you, being in his naked embrace while you obey his commands. This is nothing like being in his lap when he'd been fully clothed, holding you open for him. This is sex, pure sex that you know is going to last hours.

"Look at that," he murmurs when you've started to pump three fingers in and out of yourself at a steady pace, "So full for me, already ready to come, huh?"

You whimper, leaning back against his chest, feeling his wiry hair rub against your cheek. Without any hesitation he suddenly reaches down and presses his index finger to your clit, making you cry out in pleasure.

"Remember when I touched this clit for the first time?" he murmurs in your ear, circling it softly over and over, "Remember how you came just from a little touch? So sensitive, baby. Such a good girl."

His words send you over the edge, making you squirm and shake in his embrace as he gives you your first orgasm of the day, coaxes it out of you easily. You whimper when he touches your wrist, pulls your fingers out to replace them with his own.

"That's one," he whispers, sliding his index finger inside your heat, and you're not sure if he's talking about the orgasm or the digit. You're too blissed out to care, head bobbing against his neck again as he fingers you, adds a second and presses his lips to your ear, "Baby, she's so tight," he breathes, teasing a third at your entrance, "How's my cock gonna fit?"

"Mnnhnngg," you can't make words, looking down beneath the water at where he's fucking you relentlessly, fingers so big and thick compared to yours, his thumb toying with your clit.

"Can't even talk, huh?" he whispers, "Need to come again, I bet."

You don't think you'll be able to, not yet; you're so overstimulated but he just continues to fuck you with abandon, rubbing your clit with every thrust of his fingers. You arch back against him, his cock throbbing against your ass. Your fingers dig into his thighs again and he chuckles in your ear.

"Can't do that, baby," he whispers, "Play with your pretty little nipples for me, show me how hard they are."

You bring your trembling hands to your breasts, squeezing your tender nipples between your fingers and feeling another orgasm start building in your tummy. How? It's so soon since you had your last one, how the fuck can he give you another one so quickly?

He pumps his fingers steadily in and out of you, watching as you play with your nipples. He leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to the skin of your left breast, inches away from where your fingers are pinching.

"Put it in my mouth, pretty girl," he murmurs against the skin, nosing the little bumps and dropping his jaw. You whimper at his words, squeezing your breast and dropping it downward so he can wrap his lips around the sensitive bud. You groan, feeling his tongue dart out and begin to lick tiny circles around it.

Seconds later, you're coming again. You shake and shiver and then go completely still in his arms, eyes rolling back as he continues to suckle at your nipple. He removes his fingers, thumbs your clit one more time, then releases your breast with a light pop.

"Two," he says quietly, smiling at you, "Good girl."

--

Somehow you make it to his bedroom. Exactly how, you're not sure. You're so wrecked from having two orgasms in ten minutes that you feel like jelly, but you're vaguely aware of him picking you up from the bath and carrying you to his room, putting you in his bed. You lay there like a starfish, arms up and legs wide as you breathe heavily, chest heaving.

"So sleepy," he says tenderly, stroking your cheek, "You ready for bed, baby? Wanna stop?"

Your eyes snap open and you shake your head frantically, only to see him standing there with a wide smile on his face.

"I'm kidding," he says with a laugh, "Don't worry."

You roll your eyes and look up at his ceiling, "Ass."

"There she is," he replies warmly, "Missed my feisty girl."

"She never left," you say with a wink, turning to look at him; he's shuffled closer to the bed, standing over you with his cock in his left hand, slowly stroking up and down. Your lips part unconsciously, eyes going straight for the plump and wet head.

"Yeah, you wanna suck it, huh?" he says quietly, thumbing exactly where you want to place your tongue, "Tasted my come twice but never had me in your mouth, how naughty."

You look up at him from under your lashes, smiling playfully, "I'm a good girl, promise."

He smirks, "Are you? Then show me how a good girl sucks cock."

You don't need him to ask you twice. You sit up on the bed and slide forward, watching as he releases his cock and lets it bounce upward toward his stomach, big and thick. You've never been so close to it, never seen it in broad daylight like this; he's huge, so wide and girthy with a big vein trailing along the underside all the way to the head, fat and leaking. With a shiver you lean forward and suck the tip into your mouth, trying not to smile when you hear him release a deep sigh.

"'Atta girl," he groans above you, his hand immediately coming up to cradle the back of your head, "That's my good girl."

You swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, swallowing down everything he's leaking and then starting to bob your head along the shaft, reaching up to grasp the base firmly in your hand. He tastes like the bath; lavender and vanilla, mixed with a salty and masculine flavor that makes your mouth water.

"Oh, baby," he murmurs, watching as you take his entire length in your mouth with barely any hesitation, the head hitting the back of your throat without even making you gag, "That's it, take the whole fucking thing, just like that."

You're aware of the fact that you don't have a gag reflex; you'd thought about telling him a while ago, thought maybe it'd convince him to let you blow him, but you'd never been brave enough to say anything. Now, you're glad you never did. Hearing his absolute wonder as you take his entire length is more than enough.

"Oh, fuck," he groans, watching as you pull back almost all the way and then push yourself forward again to fully envelop him, the tip repeatedly prodding the inside of your throat, "Jesus fucking Christ."

You swallow around him and look up from underneath your lashes, eyes wide and burning. He looks down at you and immediately slips his cock out of your mouth, taking a step back and putting his hands up in surrender.

"Okay, okay," he says quickly, hissing through his teeth, "I'm gonna come if you keep goin'. Fuck."

You look at him with faux-innocence, eyes wide, "Did I do something wrong?"

He shakes his head, inhaling deeply and taking another step backward, "You're gonna kill me, baby," he curls his hands into fists, and you swear his cock bobs again completely on its own, like he's about to come without even being touched. The thought makes you shiver, "I know I say that all the time, but I mean it. You're gonna kill me."

You giggle, falling backwards on the bed again and stretching out your arms and legs, closing your eyes and listening as he does a quick pace around the room to distract himself from the orgasm his body is threatening to have. You just laugh and rotate your legs back and forth, feeling an immense amount of pride that you're not the only overly sensitive one in the room.

"You think that's funny, huh?" he asks you, and your eyes snap open to see him kneeling in front of you at the edge of the bed.

"N-no," you say, but your smile betrays you. He looks at you darkly and suddenly grabs your legs, pulling you closer to the edge of the bed and pushing your thighs apart, "Oh," you whimper, looking down at yourself, seeing where he's looking, where you're wet and dripping all over the sheets.

"Messy," he whispers, "Such a messy little pussy."

"It's yours," you tell him, as if he doesn't already know, "It's your little pussy."

"I know, baby," he leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to your inner thigh, "I've wanted to taste her for so long."

You quiver at his words, brow furrowing as he presses another soft kiss to the opposite thigh. He licks a stripe along the inside, just outside your lips where you're puffy and swollen. He kisses your mound, drags his tongue down and down and down until it swipes lightly against your clit.

"Joel," you moan, throwing your head back and fisting the sheets. He pulls back and you look down again to see him smirking at you, eyes suddenly bright and playful again.

"Tastes like heaven, baby," he says softly, then ducks his head down and pushes his tongue inside you with no warning.

You let out the loudest moan of your life as he begins to eat you out, tongue alternating between twisting and licking your insides and then suckling on your clit like he'd done with your nipple, circling it inside his mouth relentlessly. You writhe beneath him, so much that he has to press his hands firmly against your belly to hold you down.

The noises you're making are practically inhuman, uttering almost a completely different language under your breath as he coaxes more ridiculous sounds out of you. You quickly realize that looking down at him is a mistake; the sight of his greying curls splayed across your pubic bone and the shape of his curved nose pressed into the hair on your mound, his eyes closed in pleasure as he sucks and licks and devours, just the image alone brings you close to the edge.

"I'm gonna come," you manage to squeak out, and he pushes his hands harder against your belly, the added pressure making you groan louder than ever.

He pulls his mouth away.

"No," you breathe, shaking your head wildly with wide eyes, "No, no, no, don't stop. Please don't stop!"

He smirks at you, removing his hands and leaning backward to release you completely from his grip. You stare at him, completely bewildered.

"Joel," you cry, real tears starting to form in your eyes, but not from sadness or anger - this time, you're just horny. "Joel, why?"

He still doesn't speak, just sits there and watches you groan in disbelief, your hands coming up to cover your face. You buck your hips into the air, seeking some kind of pressure, but nothing helps.

"Joel," you repeat, "This is mean."

"I told you I was gonna punish you, baby," he says it with faux-disappointment, like he's not the one who makes the rules, "I'm the one who decides when you come. And what I just did is exactly what you just did to me."

You pout, sitting up on your hands and giving him a dirty look, "That's not fair, you told me to stop, I would've kept going."

"But if you'd kept going, how would I have been able to do this?" he asks, and suddenly he's standing up and leaning over you on the bed, knees sinking into the mattress as he hovers above you.

"W-what?" you ask, but you know the answer as soon as you feel the wet head of his cock gently prod your entrance.

"This, baby," he murmurs, and pushes himself all the way inside.

You almost let out a scream, squeezing his sheets in your hands as his huge cock practically rearranges your guts, feeling him in your stomach as he reaches his hands up to entwine his fingers with yours, plying them away from the sheets.

"Oh, she wasn't ready, was she?" he asks quietly, nosing your neck and smiling at the incoherent noises coming from your throat, "Poor little pussy, never had something so big inside of her, huh?"

He stays still inside of you, letting you get used to his wide girth and thick length, so large within you that you feel like you're going to burst. You continue to make odd noises, twitching under his grasp, and it takes you a few seconds to realize that you're coming. You're coming, just from having his cock fully sheathed inside of you.

"Three," he whispers in your ear, pressing a soft kiss to the skin there, "That's three times now, baby. Such a good girl for me."

Your pussy pulses and throbs around him, aching and burning in the most perfect way. How does he know exactly what you need? How does he know exactly what'll get you there?

"You're okay, baby," he murmurs, stroking your hair gently as you convulse around him, "You're doing so well, takin' it all so good."

You've never felt so full in your life. You've only ever had sex a handful of times, only ever actually been with two other men. If you had to compare them to this, you'd laugh in their faces.

"Big," you finally find your words, barely a whisper, "So big."

"I know," Joel kisses your temple, pulls back to look down at you with a gentle smile, "I'll wait 'til you get used to it, don't worry."

It's only then, looking up into those big brown eyes, that you realize you still haven't kissed him. He's got his enormous cock inside of you, stretching every inch of you open, and you've never kissed him.

It's like he's suddenly thinking the exact same thing. You watch as his brow furrows, lips parting slightly as he leans down and presses a sweet and gentle kiss to your lips, your eyes closing as you kiss him back with a hunger you've never known. You slip your tongue inside his mouth and he grants you entrance immediately, breathing deeply against your face as he sucks you in, lets you taste him. You can taste your own wetness on his tongue and it makes you moan against his lips.

"You're so fucking perfect," he breathes against your mouth, closing his eyes and rubbing his nose against yours, "My perfect girl, always so good for me."

"I'm yours," you remind him, voice weak and shaky, "I'll do whatever you tell me to, Joel."

He inhales deeply, removing his hands from yours and trailing them down your body to hold you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your torso and trailing his fingers up and down your back.

"You can move now," you whisper, still pulsing around him, "I can take it."

"I know you can, baby," he murmurs, "Such a good girl."

It takes a few slow thrusts, your mouth still eliciting the most unhinged sounds as he fucks you at the slowest pace imaginable, but eventually you build up a rhythm. He's so big, it's hard to believe he's actually fitting inside of you. You'd only ever seen his cock from a distance, in darkness, never realized how fucking huge he was. You can't believe you'd even managed to fit all of him in your mouth.

"I'm close," you groan in his ear, your own hands coming up to grip his back tightly, loving the feeling of having him pressed so close to you as he fucks you, "Give me my fourth, Joel, fucking give it to me."

He laughs lightly in response, pulling back to look down at you, "Not much of a punishment anymore, is it?" he says with a smirk, shaking his head, "Now you're begging for it." He slows down his thrusts, eventually stilling inside of you and pulling almost all the way out, letting the head of his cock sit inside your pulsing hole.

"Look at that," he says softly and you sit up to follow his gaze, looking down at your already fucked-out hole, his cock only connected to it via the fat head that sits nestled at your entrance, "Look at all your come on my cock, pretty girl."

You notice the white and glistening spots along his cock, feeling your cheeks go red at the recognition that it's all from you. You bite your lip, chest heaving breathlessly as he carefully pulls the tip from your hole and places it against your clit.

"Oh, fuck," you whimper, watching as he gently rubs the head in circles on your clit, his tip continuing to leak and making you even more slippery than you already are.

"Here's number four for you, baby," he murmurs, and pulls back his cock to lightly slap the head against you, the pressure immediately making you moan. He slaps it again, a little harder, and you have to bite down on your lip again to stop the onslaught of little whines you're threatening to make.

"Come," he says firmly, deliberately an order, and slaps the head of his cock against your clit one last time, delivering the final push.

Your eyes roll back again and you fall back on the bed, body twitching as you come for the fourth time, feeling his eyes on your pussy as your hole pulses and throbs around nothing.

"Good girl," he whispers, and seconds later you feel his cock slide back inside of you, exactly where it belongs, "There you go."

You lay there completely limp for a few seconds, body only moving with the thrusts of Joel's steady pace. You finally open your eyes again, see him kneeling on the bed above you. He's holding your lower half upwards, hands digging into your hips and thumbs splayed across your tummy.

"Use me," you breathe, eyes closing again, "Just use me for a few minutes."

He groans, a guttural and fierce noise that rips through the silence of his bedroom. You relax completely, melting into the sheets and letting him take what he needs, take and take and take, using you like his personal fuck toy, something you'd only dreamed about and never thought would ever actually come to fruition. Your arms hang limp and loose off the edge of his bed as you inhale and exhale, trying to get your energy back as fast as possible so you can come again.

Because you know he's not gonna let you off at number four.

After a few more steady thrusts you slowly sit back up on your elbows, looking at him through hooded and tired eyes. He can see that you're close to being completely done, smiles gently at you and slows his rhythm.

"Welcome back," he says softly, leaning down to pull you up so you're level with him. He repositions the both of you so his legs are circling you, yours coming up to wrap around his lower back as you sit on his cock. He pulls you closer, cradling the back of your head and pressing kisses along the side of your face, "I know you're tired but I'm gonna give you one more, baby, just like I promised."

"I know," you whisper, voice shaky.

He holds you in his wide arms, completely envelops you as he fucks up into you steadily, nose and lips pressed against the side of your face as he brings himself closer and closer to release, continuously whispering a thread of dirty things to you, building you up.

"Such a tight fuckin' pussy, all for me," he murmurs, "So wet and pink and perfect, takin' me so good, so fuckin' full of cock."

"Joel," you whimper, leaning further against him and letting him fuck you mercilessly, letting him push you closer and closer to your fifth orgasm, "Keep talking."

"Okay, baby," he whispers, brow furrowed, "Okay, pretty girl. So fuckin' good to me, so fuckin' pure and perfect, lettin' me fill this little cunt, lettin' me fuck it so deep," you scratch at his arm, tension building in your belly, "Waited so long for me to give it to you, begged for it for months, and now you have it. It's all yours, baby. You get this cock whenever you want now, just say the word."

He reaches down and rubs your clit with his thumb, feeling you tense against him as your orgasm overtakes you. You shake in his embrace, moaning out his name one final time before you start to come, heart pounding and chest heaving as he releases your clit and hugs you close to him. You tremble beneath him, feeling completely spent, almost boneless in his lap as he keeps fucking you.

"Where do you want my come, pretty girl?" he asks you through clenched teeth, "You still want it in your mouth?"

"Yes," you say immediately, eyes widening, "In my mouth, please."

Without another word he pulls you from his lap, watching as you fall backwards on the bed weightlessly.

"Christ, I fucked the shit outta you, baby," he says, genuinely shocked at how blissed out you are.

"You did," you reply softly, feeling a smile cross your face, "Can't move anymore."

He gives you a gentle smile, walks around the bed and aims his cock toward your face, "Here's your reward, baby, open up, nice and wide."

You do as you're told, feeling an immense amount of pride and satisfaction as you finally get what you've been craving for months. He strokes his cock once, only once, and suddenly ropes of thick white come are painting your tongue and lips, your cheeks, your chin. He groans, long and low, watching as you close your eyes and take every drop he gives you, watching it all pool on your tongue, dribble down your chin.

"Fuck," he breathes, and you open your eyes again to see him staring at you, eyes still dark and pupils blown wide, "Swallow it, pretty girl."

You close your mouth and swallow all of it, reveling in the salty taste on your tongue and in the back of your throat. You bring a trembling hand to your mouth, push the leftovers from your cheeks and chin past your lips, swallowing a second time.

"Good girl," he whispers, leaning down to push your hair out of your eyes, "That's my good girl, did so fucking well for me. Did everything I said."

"I'm yours, Joel," you whisper, voice completely wrecked, "I'm your good girl."

--

He cleans you up tenderly, pressing kisses to your skin every now and then as he takes a warm washcloth and wipes you down, pays extra attention to your sensitive spots and lets you lay there in peace. He's so sweet, so gentle, you'd hardly know it was the same Joel who walked out on you back at the ski lodge.

But it is the same Joel. He's just finally let himself have what he wants, finally let himself give you what you want. When he climbs in bed beside you and wraps his arms tightly around you, you've never felt so desired in your entire life. He kisses your face all over, whispers praises, tells you how beautiful you are, makes you feel wanted.

"You asleep?" he asks you softly, hands running up and down your arms soothingly.

"In and out," you murmur back, "You really did a number on me."

He chuckles quietly, kisses your cheek and holds you tighter, "I know. It was okay, right? I didn't go too far?"

"It was perfect," you reply sincerely, leaning back into his touch, "It was everything I ever wanted, better than anything I imagined."

He smiles against your skin, "Good, I'm glad."

You both lay there in the silence of his bedroom for a few more moments, listening to each other's breathing. He kisses the back of your neck, noses your skin and inhales your scent.

"Are you still afraid?" you ask quietly, "You can tell me, I want you to be honest."

He takes a few moments to reply, sighing deeply and bringing one of his hands down to hold tightly to yours. You squeeze his back, quietly reminding him that you're here, that you're not going anywhere.

"I am," he says softly, voice barely a whisper, "But not so much anymore. I think it'll be easier now."

"It will be," you reassure him quietly, tightening your grip on his hand, "I'm here for you, okay? Every step of the way."

He nuzzles into your hair, presses himself against you and sighs contentedly, "Okay."

You close your eyes, focusing on the perfection of this moment, the feeling of his body so close to yours, warming you up and keeping you safe. You can't help but notice how perfectly your bodies fit together, how right it feels to be lying together like this.

"By the way," he whispers suddenly, "You'll be my patrol partner again, right?"

You grin, tilting your head back slightly so his cheek brushes against your temple, relishing in the feeling of his stubble against your skin, so natural, so easy.

"I thought you'd never ask."

i can't believe how long this took me to write but i'm so glad i finally finished it. this isn't the end of soft!dom joel, but i would consider it the end of their story, most likely. i'll probably write some more smutty one-shots for them, but i doubt i'll write anything for them again with this much detail. i feel pretty satisfied with this.

let me know what you think!!! i love hearing yalls feedback, it makes me so happy. i also have a kofi if you'd like to leave me a tip. thank you so much for reading 💖

[lightlycareless]

to celebrate both the new masterlist I made for Toji, and the newyear (and also his birthday??? damn) I decided to write a little something for him :) it was somewhat inspired by these other works that aren't really necessary to read but you can go ahead if you'd like.

warnings: none. domestic fluff. megumi is your son :) also please excuse my oocness with him, I have yet to grow accustomed to writing him 🥺

happy reading!

The bedroom door quietly creeks open, followed by the sound of quick, pitter-patters making their way to your side.

And then, after a few seconds of apparent reluctance, a gentle nudge on your shoulder finally wakes you up.

“Mom, mom.”

“Hm—hmm? What—what is it, sweetie?” you murmur, slowly blinking your eyes open and getting to see your favorite batch of unruly hair, alongside a cute, oh so adorable frowning face staring back at you. “Is everything alright, Gumi?”

“I can’t sleep.” He quietly confesses, gently clenching at your sleeve.

“Oh, that’s not good. What happened?” you lament. “Did you have a nightmare?”

Megumi nods.

“With the wolves?”

He nods once again.

“Can I sleep with you?”

You don’t bother asking him anything else, instead, you simply smile, carefully lifting your blanket and gesturing him to join you, which he does without hesitation soon after, your bed barely budging underneath his weight as Megumi accommodates himself between you and his father, who barely acknowledged his presence given the way he remained soundly asleep.

“Are you ok here?” you ask, pulling the blankets over the two and wrapping your arms around your baby—well, he’s hardly a baby anymore at his 6 years of age, but to you he’ll always be your baby.

“Yes.” Megumi responds, snuggling closer to you and sighing, already feeling his fears vanishing underneath your comforting warmth. “…goodnight, mom.”

“Goodnight, honey” you smile, giving him one quick kiss to the top of his head before closing your eyes and returning to your peaceful slumber…

…

…

…

Amidst Toji’s snores, which your child, poor little Megumi, was not accustomed to—waking up soon after the first round of beastly growls (his words) graced his ears.

“Hmm—! Mom!” Megumi groans, quick to cover his ears in hopes of easing silence, to no avail. “Mom!”

“What is it, Gumi? The same nightmare?” you murmur.

“No! It’s dad and his horrible snores!” he cries back. “How can you even sleep?!”

“Oh, that’s—” you giggle, causing your son to complain once again. “I just got used to it.”

An impossible endeavor that would have him reconsidering if his nightmares were all that bad to begin with, maybe he’d rather deal with them that his old man’s literal growls… unless he were to get a combination of the two.

Now that is a true nightmare.

But contrary to you, he’ll never get used to your and his father’s nightly dynamics, and the longer he goes on awake because of the latter, the grumpier and decisive Megumi becomes.

It’s not Toji’s fault that he has the tendency to reach out for you when asleep, drape his arm over you as if to check you were still there, perhaps afraid that he’d wake up and you’d be gone—but to an exasperated Megumi that was just the needed excuse for his patience to reach his limit, quickly pushing himself off your embrace and towards his father, a prominent scowl on his face as he waits for him to give him another reason.

Just one more snore and then, he smacks him! A sound so loud that it makes you jolt fully awake and instinctively looking over to your son, primarily worried that he might’ve unwittingly hurt himself, before realizing Toji was the one in danger after all. Yes, someone as robust  as your husband could still fall victim to Gumi’s punch; hence the laughter you’re trying so hard to hold back.

“Huh—what?” Toji breathes, half awake, half asleep, but completely in pain. “What was that??”

“Shut up!” He cries back, attempting to hit him again; luckily Toji’s reflexes were quick to kick in, saving himself from another humiliating endeavor. “You’re too loud, I can’t sleep!”

“When did you get here?” Toji asks, holding onto Megumi’s wrist and keeping him from afflicting him again.

“Our little blessing had a nightmare.” You begin to explain, placing your hand over Toji’s grasp and releasing your son. “And wanted to sleep with us, that’s all.”

“Did he?” Toji smirks. “What’s it about? That he smiled for the first time in his life?”

“Toji…”

“What?” He laughs. “You know I’m just teasing.”

“I didn’t want to sleep with you dad, I only wanted mom!” Megumi declares, ready to go back to his rightful place, until Toji decides he’s not gotten enough of making fun of his child, quickly encaging him within his arms and keeping him away from you. “No, you—Mom!”

“Oh, too good for your old man, now?”

“Toji!” you gasp amidst giggles. “Leave our son alone, or we’ll leave!”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Toji responds.

“Try me.”

It’s a mystery how Megumi fell asleep, probably relented himself to his situation and just gave up, but the sight that welcomes him that morning is one that Toji has him smiling: you, cuddled up with his 6-year-old son underneath the warm blankets he hates to leave but must do so because of work.

All to give you the life both deserve; one he never thought he’d be gratuitously given—unless it was with you. Only if it was with you.

Time certainly passes by so quickly, to believe that he once believed himself deserving of nothing but loneliness, he now has this:

A wife that loves him unconditionally, wholly, with all his scars and fears…

And a son that only grows bigger and snarkier each passing day. The similarities between the two are uncanny to say the least, but when he finds you in him, he can’t help but smile. It makes his heart… warm.

For the first time in his life, he looks forward to what the future holds.