#doesn't mean they have to love that period of their life when they got clean

[vole-mon-amour]

'kids are cute' 'we were all kids once' 'you have to respect kids' 'we need more kids in public places' 'hating kids isn't ok' 'people letting their kids acting up in public places is totally okay & we need more of that' 'there's something really wrong with you if you can't stand kids'

i don't have to respect them, i don't have to like them, i don't want to interact with them and their parents' nonsense, ever.

FUCK! THEM! KIDS!

gtfo.

[absurdthirst]

Mother's Day Surprise {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 11.4k

Warnings: Menstrual blood/cramping, violent attack, near death, surgery, comma, mentions of blood and disturbing scenes, recovery, assistance with basic needs, helping Joel shower, confessions of feelings, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, pull out method, mentions of family planning, breeding kink, dirty talk, cream pie, infertility, depression, feelings of worthlessness, death, harsh and cruel world, babies

Comments: Helping Joel Miller recover from a horrific attack leads to a life you never knew possible.

**🚨🚨 Contains spoilers for Season 2 of The Last of Us🚨🚨**

A/N: Happy Mother's Day to all those lovely moms out there and anyone wishing to become one in the future. Being a mom doesn't necessarily mean biologically. 💜

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Joel Miller MasterList ||

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

You grunt, squinting as you struggle to see in the dark. It's the middle of the night, the sun not yet peeking through the curtains, and you wonder why you woke up until your stomach twists and you realize you're wet between your thighs. "No. No. No. No." You cry, tears in your eyes as you scramble out of bed and rush into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. You shove your shorts down and sob at the blood that's gathered there. You got your period. Again. You sit down on the toilet and gather some paper to clean yourself up while you try to smother your cries but there's a knock at the door and Joel's voice  resonates through it, "are you okay, sweetheart?" He asks and you choke out, "the bed." Joel walks over to turn the lamp on, his eyes widening at the blood on the sheets. "Oh sweetheart." He sighs, resting his forehead against the door frame. "I'm sorry, baby. I - I am useless." You sob and he rattles the door handle, "let me in." He demands and you flush the toilet, washing your hands before you open the door. Joel immediately wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. "We will try again." He promises, "I didn't give up when I was recovering and we won't give up now." He assures you while you sob into his chest.

He sighs, not even going to deny his own disappointment, although people who used to know him in the Boston QZ would never believe it. Joel Miller, disappointed that you aren’t pregnant. The very obvious sign of his seed not taking root staining the sheets of the bed you share. He shouldn’t want a child. He’s closer to fucking sixty years old than not, just a few years shy and yet he finds himself wanting to see you round with his child. His second child by blood, his third in his heart. Ellie is staying with Dina tonight, so he doesn’t have to worry about waking her up as your sobs wrack your body. “You aren’t useless.” He soothes, frowning when he remembers your emotional words. Standing in the bathroom, he wishes there was something that he could do, fertility doctors from twenty plus years ago were a thing of the past. Most people do not want to bring children into this fungi infested world, but here in Jackson, he has hope for the future. Hope for a chance to pass on a legacy.

You cling to him, knowing he's disappointed. Lord knows you've been trying enough but you just can't seem to get pregnant. It's like you are cursed and you wonder if Joel's injuries hurt your chances.

****

You gasp when you look up to see a mangled man carried into the hospital. You set your cup of coffee down and stand up, the resident doctor rushing around to try and stop the bleeding. "What the hell?" You ask and a teenage girl is clinging to his hand as the team try to wheel him into the surgery room. "Joel. Joel. Don't leave me." She pleads, tears in her eyes, and you reach for her. "He's in good hands, sweetheart. Come here. Let the doctor work." You manage to drag her away and she wraps her arms around you and sobs, "I didn't know - she nearly - they nearly- it's all my fault." She chokes and you rub her back, frowning at the doors where the man disappeared.

Hours later, the door swings open and the doctor comes back through, his work scrubs stained with blood. Ellie had been impatiently sitting and leaps out of her seat. “Is he alive? Where is he? I want to see him.” She demands, making the doctor lift his hands slightly. “He’s alive.” He reassures her, making her tense shoulders slump with relief and tears prick her eyes. “There was massive trauma to the head, and-“ Ellie interrupts him. “Of course there is, that bitch tried to beat him to death with a fucking golf club.”

Your eyes widen at the news that he was nearly beaten to death. You wrap your arm around Ellie’s shoulder. She had rambled about how Joel saved her, how much she loves him, how he’s the father she never had. Her words made your heart melt and you silently prayed he pulled through. “It’s going to be a long road to recovery. For now, we will monitor him and see if he pulls through the night. It’s touch and go still.” The doctor warns Ellie who nods, “he will pull through. Joel is a stubborn fucker.” You chuckle and rub her upper arm, “let’s get you something to eat and a shower and we can come back when he’s settled in a room.” You suggest and she’s reluctant to leave but the doctor nods, “he’s unconscious. Will be for a few days at least. His body needs rest. Go get some food and he will be waiting for you.” Ellie nods and lets you guide her to your house. Her home needs to be cleaned up and you don’t want her to see the aftermath of the battle that occurred in her home.

Joel had put up a fight. Furniture is broken, the mirror in the hallway - one he had grumbled about every day when it showed him how old he is - is shattered. Shards of glass and spurts of blood splash the walls. Ellie grimaces and stops at the blood stain on the floor right by the open front door. Obviously no one had cared about closing up the house when rushing Joel off to the hospital. “Right.” She sighs, turning when she hears someone running towards her. “Ellie! Fuck, is Joel alright?” Breathless, Tommy stops in front of the teenager and his face almost begs her to tell him that his older brother is okay. “I tracked her, but she got away.” He explains; that being the reason he wasn’t at the hospital earlier. “She went to the river and I couldn’t track her from there.” 

Ellie straightens her back, shaking her head, “that fucking bitch.” She growls and you answer Tommy’s question. “Joel had surgery. He’s unconscious right now. Still in the air as to him waking up without brain damage. The doctor did the best he could but it…it was bad.” You admit and Tommy closes his eyes, needing to see his brother. “I need to see him.” He says and you nod, “he’s unconscious still. I’m going to get Ellie changed and get her something to eat.” You tell Tommy who reaches out to squeeze Ellie’s shoulder. “Get something to eat, kid. I’ll let you know if anything changes.” Tommy promises and Ellie doesn’t say anything else, going quiet. “Come on, let’s get you something to eat.”

You nod, “go clean up. I’ll get started on trying to clean this up.” You tell her and she makes her way upstairs. You sigh, looking over at the pool of blood and you feel sick. You’ve always had a crush on the older Miller brother since he arrived at Jackson, but you’re certain he doesn’t even know you exist. 

****

You check Joel’s pulse, his eyes moving beneath his eyelids. He’s still unconscious, has been for a few days, and the hospital isn’t equipped with equipment to test brain function. All you can do is watch and wait to see if he will wake up.

Joel hurts, every inch of his body hurts and it feels like he’s trying to move mountains just to open his eyes. Fingers twitching and he opens his mouth, groaning quietly.

You gasp when you hear him groan, watching his eyes flutter, and you let go of his wrist, calling for the doctor. The doctor comes in and you gesture to Joel, “he is waking up.” The doctor nods, checking Joel over, his bandages wrapped around his head, and they had to shave his head to perform the surgery. You wonder if he will be angry about losing his hair. Ellie is in the waiting room so you head out to see her. “He’s awake.” You tell her and she stands up, “he is. I want to see him.” You shake your head, “the doctor is checking him over. Let’s give them some time.”

It takes a long time to understand what the doctors are telling him, frowning in confusion and wondering why his head feels like it’s been squashed like a grape. Moving is slower and he hisses in pain when he learns that his ribs have been broken and his leg is also fractured. Opening his mouth, it’s hard to get a word out. “E-E-El-Ellie.” He manages, needing to see her.

The doctor nods, “she’s okay.” You escort Ellie into the room, wanting her to see her father is awake, and she rushes over to the bed. “Joel. Joel. I’m sorry.” Ellie chokes, reaching for his hand. He groans as he squeezes her hand, silently assured that she’s okay.” You watch their reunion with tears in your eyes from the doorway.

“D-d-don’t bl-ame y-your-self.” Joel rasps out, still fuzzy on what happened. He doesn’t remember anything much before waking up in the hospital. Although he gets the sense he was angry- desperate. He groans in pain when she lunges forward to hug him, but he doesn’t push her away. 

You watch Ellie hug him and you know in that moment you’ll do whatever you can do to make sure Joel gets better. Ellie pulls back after several moments and the doctor checks Joel’s vitals. “He needs some more time here so we can observe him.” Ellie nods at the doctor’s words and you walk over to rub her back.

“I’m going be honest, Mr. Miller,” the doctor tells him as he pulls back. “I am surprised that you even woke up. There was significant bleeding and swelling of the brain. Tests seem positive but there could be damage that hasn’t manifested itself yet.” He tells Joel. “It’s going to be a long road to recovery for you.”

Joel doesn’t say anything. He was nearly murdered. He knows he shouldn’t be alive right now. Ellie sniffs as she steps back and Joel attempts to squeeze her hand. The doctor grabs his clipboard and looks at Joel’s recent vitals. “Waking up was half the struggle. Let’s monitor you and go from there.” The doctor says, “and we will keep running tests.” Joel grunts out an “okay” and you offer him a smile, “you’re a fighter just like Ellie said. She’s lucky to have you.”

You’re familiar to him, he can’t place it, but his thoughts are still fuzzy and jumbled. “How- how long have I been here?” He asks after a moment. “Three days.” Ellie answers and he frowns. “Who- where have you been sleeping?”

Ellie says your name, “I have been staying in her house. She has been cleaning our house because there was too much blood and - and it was a mess.” Ellie reveals and Joel’s eyes are hazy as they meet yours, silently saying goodbye thank you and you nod in response. “Just focus on getting better, Ellie and I are enjoying some girl time.” You tease, winking at Ellie who chuckles.

****

Joel stays in hospital for two weeks and you look after Ellie, preparing his home for his return, and when the doctor declares him fit to leave, he says that he needs someone to look after him. He still can’t shower by himself, he needs help eating and he struggles to walk alone. It’s going to be a long recovery for Joel. “I can help,” Ellie says without hesitation as Joel sits on the edge of the bed.

“You can’t help me do everything.” Joel grunts, knowing that he could never allow the teenage girl to help him shower or get to fucking bathroom. “I- Tommy-“ his brother has been by to visit every day, and he’s talked to him about taking Ellie. He doesn’t know how he will manage, but he also knows he can’t burden Maria and their baby with his convalesce.

“Tommy is out of town on a scouting mission.” Ellie says, knowing Joel’s brother was set on revenge for his brother’s condition. He just had to track Abby down. “I can help.” You volunteer, feeling close to him despite not having a full conversation with him. Spending time with Ellie, hearing her stories about Joel and his bravery had made you fond of him. “I can help him at home.” You offer and the doctor looks to Joel for his answer.

His eyes slide to you, unsure why you would volunteer to help him, but the doctor immediately nods. “That would be a good idea.” He agrees. “You can check his bandages and make sure that he doesn’t get an infection.” He smiles at the three of you like it’s a done deal and Joel frowns slightly, not sure if he likes the idea of you helping him.

You nod, noticing Ellie’s grateful smile, and you look at Joel, “it’s for the best. I can monitor your health and help you. I’m a nurse. It’s a medical decision.” You tell him and he grunts, knowing he doesn’t have a choice. He’s discharged and you wheel him to the doctor’s truck, knowing Joel won’t be able to walk home. You arrive outside of the house and Joel grunts, “I can walk.” He doesn’t want a wheelchair so you let him wrap his arm around you to guide him into the house. “Take your time.” You reassure him, “no need to rush.”

The shuffle is slow and painful, making him huff in irritation that he can’t move like he would want to. Even as he’s gotten older and been slower, he’s been able to move how he wanted to. Now, in a cast and recovering from nearly dying, he needs help. Ellie jumps forward to open the door and he’s glad to see that the scene that had been left from the attack you told him about has been cleaned away. He will have to thank you for that. “Fuck.” He pants, out of breath and in pain just because of the short walk from the truck to the house. “I don’t know how the fuck I’m getting upstairs.”

“We moved a bed downstairs.” You tell him, “you won’t be going upstairs for a while.” You escort him into the living room and help him settle down on the bed. He’s only wearing socks so he groans as he sits down and you help him lay on the bed. “You need to rest as much as possible. Let me get you some water. Are you hungry?” You ask, helping him settle against the pillows.

“Can you cook better than the shit they served at the hospital?” He grumbles, having not enjoyed the food there. He’s relieved to be home and his head hurts a little bit less today than before. He’s got a plate covering the fractured portion of his skull and they actually had to remove a large chunk of the bone.

You chuckle, “I like to think so. I’m glad your appetite is back. What do you feel like? I make a mean mac and cheese.” You adjust his pillow and Ellie comes to sit down next to him. “She’s a really good cook. Like really good. I’ve been helping make cheese and we even made a cake.” She tells Joel with wide eyes, shocked at how this place is like life in books she read.

“Sure.” Joel agrees, the little fissure of pain at the mention of a cake isn’t as rough as it might once have been. The last night she had been alive, Sarah had wanted a cake desperately for Joel’s birthday. “Make something the kid likes.” He suggests. “I eat anything.”

You smile, liking how he caters to Ellie, and you know that Ellie told the truth about the man she considers a father. “What do you want, sweetheart?” You ask her and she nods, “Mac and cheese.” You ask if she wants to help you while Joel gets settled in and Ellie follows you into the kitchen so you can get started on the food and you pour Joel a glass of water. “You want to take this to Joel?” You ask Ellie who takes the glass and takes it to her father figure.

Joel listens to the sound of people talking in the kitchen and it’s so strange. He can’t make out what’s being said, but he can hear voices. It’s almost unsettling that there is someone else in the safe, cozy home that he and Ellie have managed to carve out for themselves. Tommy told him that Abby, the girl who had attacked him, was the daughter of the doctor he had killed to save Ellie. His past sins were coming back to haunt him, but he doesn’t regret not letting the teen sacrifice herself for a lost cause.

Ellie comes back out to hand Joel the glass of water and he takes it, taking a sip. “Thanks, kid.” He says and she sits down at the edge of his bed. “I- I thought I was gonna lose you.” She whispers, her brown eyes meeting his, “I was scared.” She admits and Joel feels his chest tighten, tears stinging in his eyes. “But you didn’t. I survived and I ain’t going anywhere, kid.” He promises, reaching out to squeeze her hand with his free one. “She been looking after you?” He asks her, jerking his chin towards the kitchen. “Yeah. She’s been great. She cleaned this place up. Made sure I ate and showered and slept while worrying like fuck about you. She’s a good one.” Ellie says and Joel trusts her opinion. You hear what Ellie says from around the corner, some homemade chips in a bowl in your hand and you smile, liking that she trusts you. You carry the bowl in and set it down , “hope these are good. We fried them earlier today.” You say, looking between Ellie and Joel.

Joel’s brow raises and he nods. “Thanks.” It hurts to nod so he just sends you his thanks with his eyes. “For taking care of her and me now, I guess.” He sips the water and grunts when the cool liquid slides down his throat to quench his thirst. “I’m sorry for all the cursing I will be doing.” He warns you, knowing he’s never been a good patient.

You chuckle, “curse away. You’re alive. That’s all that matters.” You promise and make your way back into the kitchen to continue making dinner. It’s going to be a long path of recovery but you’re happy to help Joel get back on his feet. 

****

“Shit.” Joel hisses as you help him into the downstairs bathroom to shower. “Do you, uh, I can help take off your pants.” You offer, cheeks burning as you try and help him shower for the first time since he left the hospital.

Joel isn’t a shy man, never has been, but the idea that you have to help him bathe like he is a helpless baby makes him burn with embarrassment. There’s not a goddamn thing he can do about it though, his body is still healing and he can’t get his head wet because of the stitches and staples. “Fuck.” He grunt, hoping he doesn’t really embarrass himself. The fact that he’s not gotten an erection since he’s woken up makes him wonder if something is wrong with that function. “Fuck, what the hell else am I going to do? Shower with my fuckin’ clothes on?”

You shake your head, “no. I- I have to help. I’m a nurse. I am a professional.” You tell him even though that doesn’t hold much weight in today’s world. “Let me help you.” You reach in to turn on the water to heat it up and you reach for Joel’s shirt. “Keep still.” You murmur, working the buttons open. He probably prefers t-shirts but the button down is required so he doesn’t jostle his head. He is still weak so he lets you push the shirt off of his shoulders. “Pants next.” You declare and hook your fingers in the sweatpants, dragging them down his legs  and he’s naked under them so it's easier for him to use the bathroom. He steps out of them and you try not to appraise his naked form. He’s still healing but he’s gorgeous.

“Sorry.” He huffs, knowing that the last thing you want to do is to help an old man bathe, his still bruised body on display. Luckily, there were still medical supply devices like a chair to sit in the shower to make it easier for him, although he knows you will get wet helping him. His dormant cock twitches slightly and his eyes widen at the sensation.

You focus on looking after him and not on his body, which even though bruised, is still beautiful. You know your clothes will get soaked but that’s okay, you don’t want to strip off and make him uncomfortable so you step into the shower and help him sit down on the chair. “Temperature okay?” You ask and he nods. You grab the soap you made last week and hold it out. “You want to do it or shall I?” You ask, knowing you’ll need to wash his face so he doesn’t get his head wet.

He hates to admit that he’s so damn tired after getting into the shower, he just wants you to do it. Grunting, he shakes his head slightly and winces when he feels a little pain. “Just do it.” He tells you, not wanting this to become some kind of pissing match. “Feel like a damn baby.”

You nod, “I understand but this is the best thing for you, honey. You need to focus on healing. You nearly died so being showered isn’t the worst thing in the world.” You put it in perspective for him. You lather up your hands and work on washing his back. He groans and your stomach twists with forbidden arousal. He’s injured, recovering, you shouldn’t feel attracted to him.

“Does it hurt?” Your soft question is almost arousing, murmuring in his ear but he grunts. “No.” His voice comes out raspy and raw. “Feels good.” He’s still so damn sore and your hands on his skin feels like a massage. “It’s feeling really good.”

You continue working on washing him, mindful of his bruises. “Good.” You murmur, “I’m so sorry this happened to you.” You say as you massage the soap into his black and blue back. “Tommy tried to find them but they were gone.” You reveal, “they are gone.”

“It’s my fault.” Joel murmurs quietly, closing his eyes and trying to forget the moment he had killed that doctor, but it plays behind his lids. “How could you deserve something like this?” You snort, but he sighs softly. “I killed her father.” He reveals. “He was a doctor, for the Fireflies. They believed Ellie was the answer to a cure.” He opens his eyes, frowning. “They were going to remove her brain.”

You gasp, your hands freezing on his back. "They - does she know?" You whisper and Joel shakes his head. "She can't." You declare, having gotten to know Ellie enough to know that she would sacrifice herself. He nods, "I can't - I lied to her. I can't lose her." He confesses and you rub his back, "you won't. Secret's safe with me." You promise, "you didn't deserve this, Joel. No one does. This world...it's cruel but we have our little piece of paradise here. We just gotta protect it."

Even though he knows it would never absolve him of his sins, your words are a balm to his spirit. Soothing him and making him relax even more. “It’s nice here.” He murmurs softly. “Sarah would love it here.”

Ellie had briefly discussed the daughter that Joel lost on Outbreak Day and you rub his shoulders, “we are lucky. Not QZ, not the Wild West. We are safe and our commune is thriving.” You hum, “Ellie is lucky to have you.” You murmur and he hisses when you press a little too hard, “I’m sorry.” You grab the rag and lather it up, “you, uh, want to wash your -” Your cheeks heat up at the thought and he takes the rag without a word.

Joel washes his groin quickly, gritting his teeth when his long neglected cock starts to stir from the simple touch and the smell of your soap. He has noticed it every time he gets your help to use the bathroom and he is now covered in it. “Help me.” He grunts, trying to push to his feet so he can wash his ass.

You wrap your arms under his armpits, helping him stand and he grunts as he washes his ass. When he’s done, you rinse him off and shut off the water, grabbing the towel around his waist. “You good?” You ask and he nods, “yeah. Just feel like a fucking baby.” You chuckle, “at least you don’t need breastfeeding.”

“Fuck.” He huffs and blurts out, “that would be more fun,” before he even realizes how inappropriate it would be. “Shit, I’m sorry.” He grunts, blushing slightly.

You snort and smile, “I think we are beyond apologies now, huh?” You say, knowing you’ve helped him to the bathroom and now helped him shower. “Let’s get you redressed and I’ll heat up the soup I made earlier for you.” You tell him and grab the clean clothes you set aside for him.

His bedroom is what used to be the downstairs office. It’s got some doors for privacy, but more often than not, they are kept open until he needs to change. It makes it easier. “I didn’t ask, how do you like that bed?” His bedroom upstairs had become yours since they had broken down the smaller bed from the third bedroom. Joel wouldn’t let you sleep on the couch, telling you he could piss in a bottle in the middle of the night if he needed to. You deserved to sleep in a real bed for helping him.

“It’s good. Nice and comfy. I have no complaints.” You tell him, knowing your roommate, Sandra, will be enjoying the peace and quiet on her own in your house. “I hope it’s comfortable here.” You help him pull the shirt over his head and you kneel down so he can  step into the sweatpants.

“It’s a bed.” He’s going to be uncomfortable regardless of where he is because of how badly he had been beaten. The only reason he’s alive is because she had started swinging on other parts of his body besides the head. “I think I’ll appreciate it more when I can move without wanting to cry.”

“Not too long now. You’ve overcome the worst. You’ll get there in the end.” You promise him, “you’ll get better. Ellie needs you.” You pull the sweatpants up and stand up, patting his chest. “All clean.” You smile and guide him to sit on the bed. You swing his legs onto the bed and stand up, “I’ll go get your soup, Miller.”

He watches you go, his eyes dropping down to your ass, not for the first time either. This time though, there is a punch of lust that his body responds to. Making him grunt and reach down to adjust himself slightly. You are beautiful and now that he has spent time with you, he can see why Tommy called him a lucky bastard.

****

You spend eight weeks looking after Joel. Helping him bathe until he can manage himself, feeding him, making sure he has water. It’s your priority and you are so happy he’s recovering well. He can walk properly now and the bruises have faded. “You want some cake?” You ask Joel as he walks into the kitchen where Ellie is trying to lick the spoon of the jam you made to go in the sponge cake.

“God, yes.” Joel groans, the irony of cake not being lost on him. You have been positively spoiling him and Ellie and he hates to think about when you will leave. He’s getting better and it’s about time you go back to your own life. “Are we doing a shower tonight?” The stitches are out, but he still has staples and needs help in the shower.

You nod, “yes, sir. Gotta make sure you avoid a nasty infection. We don’t have any oral antibiotics left.” You sigh, knowing that even if someone found some, they’d be expired. You and Ellie put the cake together and you cut out a slice for each of you. Setting the plate down in front of Joel, you love the way he smiles at you. It’s been impossible to keep your affection for him at bay. You’ve fallen for him, knowing that you will have to return home at some point but the grumpy yet funny man has gotten into your heart.

“Thanks.” He sends you a grateful look and sets his elbows on the table as he waits for you to sit down. “It smells incredible. You seem to enjoy cooking, or is it just something you do because you know Ellie can’t?” He teases, making the teenager huff and roll her eyes. “It’s not like I’ve had a chance to learn, man.”

You giggle and nudge Ellie, “you’ve been learning. You’ll get there. No, I, uh, I love cooking. Always have.” You admit, “I missed it a lot when I was on the outside. Cooking rabbit on a fire isn’t quite the same as cooking in a warm kitchen.” You sigh, forking up a bite of the cake.

“Yeah, campfires are temperamental, and cooking on them is even worse.” He snorts. Ellie chuckles. “When you would let us have them.” Joel shrugs slightly. “It’s dangerous out there.” He reminds her. “Hell, it’s dangerous in here too, but it’s better than out there.” He glances towards the entryway where he had collapsed when Abby nearly beat him to death.

You notice his glance and you realize once again how close to death he was. “You’re here now. Hopefully you don’t have to go back out there anytime soon.” You reach out to squeeze Joel’s hand and he smiles at you, his fork in his other hand, “you are safe for now.”

You have been incredible, and it’s almost amazing to see how you have slipped past the shell of his heart, something that only Ellie has managed since Tess. It’s hard to believe Tess has been gone as long as she has, but Joel has been slowly trying to heal emotionally as he heals physically. Thoughts of you have crept into his waking hours, causing some embarrassing moments in the showers when he gets hard, or you wake him up from an erotic dream that features you.

****

“So, the doctor gave you the all clear. Just to be careful and not do too much.” You smile at Joel as you enter the living room after the doctor left. He had done a full assessment of Joel and called his surgery a miracle - the fact that he survived is a gift from God. Ellie is out visiting Dina and you sit down next to Joel on the sofa, “I guess I can get out of your hair now. You can have your bed back and I’ll go back to my place.” You finish softly, sad to be leaving him.

Joel wipes his hands on his sweatpants, still wearing them out of habit over the past few months. “You’re probably happy as hell to be getting away.” He snorts as he looks over at you and wonders how you have become even prettier than before. He’s crazy about you, how kind you are, how you have taken Ellie under your wing and how you never rebuke him for when he gets sad and introspective. You have helped so much and he hates that you are leaving. “Maybe I need to get the shit beat out of me again, make you stick around.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. "No need to do that. All you have to do is ask me to stay and I would." You confess and your eyes widen at the way you blurted that out. You close your mouth, turning your head to stare across the room, avoiding those dark brown eyes. "I'm sorry. I-" You begin but he interrupts you. "Stay." You turn your head to look at him again, "what? You - you want me to stay?" You ask, feeling breathless.

He rolls his eyes at your question and huffs. “Do you think that I’m getting hard every time you help me shower because getting clean turns me on?” He asks bluntly. “I’ve been trying to think about anything else but you, but nothing works.”

You stare at him in shock, “I- I can’t believe - I just thought you were horny because you couldn’t jerk off.” You snort and close your eyes for a second. “I think about you. All the time.” You admit, reaching for his hand, “I had a crush on you before I came to help.” You tell him honestly, “always thought you were handsome, but now that I know you? You’re - fuck, I love you.” You confess just as breathless as your prior revelation.

His own breath stops, caught in his chest as you confess your feelings. A year ago, hell - a few months ago, he would have been denying that you felt that way. Ignoring it or being unable to respond in kind because his world was still ground to a halt, but that had changed. You and Ellie, that attack, it had changed things and made him realize that even though he had lost so many, he still had those to live for. He lunges forward and presses his lips to yours. “Love you too.” He murmurs as you gasp.

You can’t believe he’s kissing you but you reach up to cup his cheek, pressing your lips back to his, and your heart is pounding in your chest. You shift closer, cupping his other cheek and you rest your forehead against his when you pull back, caressing his stubbled cheeks. “I love you, Miller.” You smile, unable to fathom that the man you’ve fallen for loves you too.

He's panting and his heart is beating wildly in his chest. Already turned on again and starting to tent his sweats and all you've done is shared one kiss. Reaching up, he caresses your neck and shoulder. "Are you sure? I'm fuckin' old, baby." He jokes. "And a little decrepit."

You shake your head, "you're not decrepit. Or too old. I love you, Joel. No matter what. Hell, if I can look after you like I have and still think you are sexy, you're good to go." You promise with a giggle, sliding your hands down to his chest. "And I haven't stopped thinking about you between my thighs. Inside of me." You confess in a hushed tone.

The kid is off with her friend and Joel groans quietly, having thought of nothing else for the past few days. "I don't know if I can perform worth a shit." He admits with a shake of his head. "Haven't cum since I woke up."

"I don't care. Just want to be close to you." You murmur, "don't care if you cum right away. I can ride you." You want to be close to him, to feel all of him. "I keep thinking about how you'd feel inside of me."

He's still in his downstairs bedroom and he nudges his nose against yours. "Close the doors." He rasps out, nodding towards the French doors that close off his makeshift space. "I don't want to tire myself out trying to get upstairs."

You stand up, hands shaky as you shut the doors and turn to face him. You take in the details of his face, his head shaved from his surgery so his hair is growing back patchy but he’s still so attractive. You reach for the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head and you swiftly remove your bra. Hooking your fingers in your leggings, you push them down along with your panties to stand naked in front of him. “I’ve seen yours, figured it’s only fair if you see mine.”

"It gets bigger." He jokes, aware that you have seen and politely ignored the times he's gotten hard from you helping him in the shower. "Fuck, you are beautiful." He praises breathlessly, eyes drinking in your body as he licks his lips. It's been a long goddamn time since he's been with someone, the last person was Tess, but he feels like he's about to bust if he doesn't touch you.

“So are you.” You respond as you walk towards him. “So brave. A fucking fighter.” You murmur, shifting to straddle him as he sits back on the bed. His hands immediately find your ass and you chuckle, knowing he’s watched it enough times. You cup his cheeks and lean in to kiss him, “wanna see if it gets bigger.” You joke, grinding down onto the tent in his sweats.

Joel groans, twitching underneath you and he knows he won’t have any problem performing. The problem might be that he doesn’t please you before he cums. His hand slides around your waist to dip between your thighs. Hissing when he finds you starting to get slick as he starts to slowly rub your clit.

“Oh God.” You pant, rocking down onto his hand. It’s been far too long since anyone touched you and you are whimpering at the way his thick fingers rub your bundle of nerves. You tilt your head back and he leans in to kiss along your neck, your fingers digging into his shoulder as you absorb every touch.

He groans as he learns your body. He and Tess had been comfortable, completely familiar with each other and what the other liked. The whimpers and groans rockets his arousal higher as you grind down against his fingers and he feels like he’s going to bust in his sweats. Turning his wrist, he presses his thumb against your clit and slides his fingers through your slick folds so he can press them inside you.

“I want to touch you.” You whimper and he shakes his head, “not yet. Otherwise this will be over sooner than you thought.” He grunts and you rock onto his thick fingers, stretching you out in the most delicious way. “Fuckkkk.” You exhale as he presses his finger against that spongy spot inside of you. He’s good. He knows what he’s doing.

He loves the way you respond to him, how wet you get. Sliding his hand up and down your back as he kisses along your shoulder and down to your tit. Wrapping his lips around a stiff nipple as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of your wet heat.

“Shit.” You hiss, caressing his head as he suckles on your nipple like he’s trying to root. It has you quivering and you’re so close. So many nights of imagining how he’d touch you has led to you getting worked up faster than you have ever known. “Joel. Oh God, Joel. You’re gonna make me - I’m gonna-” You don’t finish your cry as you cut yourself off with a strangler choke and clamp down on his digits, soaking them with your cum.

“That’s it, fuck, good girl.” Joel pants against your breast as he pumps his fingers to help you ride out your orgasm. “You’re so goddamn good to me, ain’t ya? You creamin’ all over my fingers, making me harder than a fucking rock.” He coos praises into your skin, enjoying the way your nails bite into his shoulder through the shirt. Your pretty cunt soaked his fingers and he can only imagine how good you will feel around his cock.

His words make you choke on your breath as he works you through your orgasm. You never imagined he’d be so dirty but you love it. “Fuck, baby. Yes. I need - I need you inside of me but I want to suck your cock.” You whine, reaching down to tug on the hem of his shirt, wanting him naked beneath you.

“You can’t.” Joel moans, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t last a minute. And I want to feel you, fuck, imagined it so many times.” He pants, pulling away from the back of the bed so you can pull his shirt off. “Maybe- later, if I can get it up again.” He chuckles.

You pull his shirt over his head, still mindful of his injuries, and you slide your hands down his chest, admiring his broadness. “You’re so sexy.” You murmur, reaching down to pull his cock out of his sweatpants, wanting to see him in this light. You’ve seen his cock plenty of times but now you know he’s hard for you and it’s intoxicating. You pump him and he groans out a warning so you shift to lift your hips, positioning him at your entrance and you slowly sink down onto him.

“Fuuuuuuuuck.” His hands grip your hips harshly and he clenches his jaw as you take him. You are hot and tight like a glove around his cock, clenching around him as your walls flutter. Your ass presses against his thighs and he rocks his hips up. “Fuck, that’s - fuck, gimme a minute.” He begs, feeling like he’s about to cum. “Let me- calm down.”

You nod, stilling on top of him, and you caress his chest. He exhales shakily and you lean in to kiss him, “take your time, baby. I’m in no rush.” You promise and kiss along his jaw, loving how he stretches you out.

It’s been so long since he’s felt this close to anyone, your breath blows against his skin and he shivers. Closing his eyes as he holds you still. “Fuck, I love you.” He murmurs quietly, aware that this is something that he shouldn’t even have, he should have died. But he’s here and he’s going to live for the moment and bask in the forgiveness of your touch.

You close your eyes at his words, loving how he caresses you, and you tilt your head to look at him. “I love you too. You’re so much more than you think you are.” You murmur, caressing his cheek, and you experimentally rock your hips. His groan makes your stomach clench and you rock again, starting slow as he moves inside of you.

“Shit.” He hisses quietly, opening his eyes to watch as you start to move. “You’re so pretty, so fuckin’ pretty.” He promises as he starts to slide his hands up and down your back. “You feel so good, does it feel good for you?”

His words make your heart pound in your chest and you nod, “feels so good. You feel so damn big inside of me.” You confess breathlessly, “stretching me out. It’s been so long since I had sex. You need to- to pull out so tell me if you’re close.” You remind him, not wanting an accidental pregnancy right now.

Joel grunts, looking into your eyes as he nods. “I will.” He promises. Safe sex isn’t really a thing to be had but hopefully there’s not something to come of this. You are right to remind him. “I’m good baby, ride me.”

You take his word and start to move faster. Your hands gripping his shoulders as you start to move on top of him, moaning at the way he twitches inside of you. "Fuck, you feel so good." You pant, chest heaving as his cock curves just right inside of you.

Joel grunts and leans forward to press his lips to yours, biting your bottom lip after he kisses you. Your breasts brush against his chest and he pulls you closer, craving the feel of your skin against his.

You moan into his mouth, loving how strong her feels, how he’s recovered and he’s stronger for it mentally. You rock down onto his cock, loving the way he twitches inside of you, and you are getting close. Just the feel of having the man you love inside of you is pushing you higher. “Oh shit.” You whimper when you find the right spot and you reach down to rub your clit, pushing yourself closer to the edge.

“That’s it pretty girl, making yourself cum.” Joel groans, watching you touch yourself with dark eyes. It’s so sexy and he can’t get enough of it. “Make yourself cum on my cock. I want to feel it, see it. Show me what you look like.”

You nod, mouth open as you work yourself higher until you finally fall over the edge. A cry escapes your lips as you cum, moaning his name and you clamp down on his cock, soaking him while your orgasm rocks through you.

His eyes roll back in pleasure as he feels you squeezing him and he knows he will be cumming any second. “Sweethea-rt, you gotta-“ he grits his teeth as he jerks your body up off his cock so he can keep his promise to you, panting as he spurts all over his stomach and chest.

You watch him as he cums and you love it. The way he looks is intoxicating and you lean in to kiss him. “Fuck, I love you.” You murmur, leaning in to kiss him as he pants your name.

He kisses you back eagerly, reaching for his shirt to wipe away the mess so you can lean against him. “Fuck, that was- I can’t even-“ he chuckles quietly and kisses you again. “What do you think about moving in permanently?”

You smile as he looks at you, his dark eyes soft, and you cup his cheeks. “Yes. Absolutely.” Your smile turns into a grin, excited to explore this next step with Joel. “I was dreading going home and I would miss you and Ellie like crazy.” You confess, “I want to stay.”

“Good.” He pauses for a moment and then he admits, “it’s felt like a proper home with you here. Ellie, she loves you too.” He tells you softly. “I think she imagines we are a family.”

“I imagine that too. She’s like a daughter to me.” You confess, “I want to make this a home and I want to be yours. Be in your bed every night. Be by your side no matter what.” You promise and Joel smiles, cupping your cheek, “sounds amazing, baby.”

****

“Joel.” You say his name as he takes a sip of whiskey. Ellie is watching a movie with the other kids in the barn and you decided to cook a romantic dinner for Joel, wanting to ask him something. He looks at you and you tilt your head, appraising him. You pick up your glass and take a sip, your throat suddenly dry. “Everything okay, baby?” He asks and you nod, squaring your shoulders. “I want a baby.” You announce, bracing yourself for him to say no.

Joel freezes, waiting for the familiar ache to take over his chest. For this vision to blur and his breathing to turn into short bursts as thoughts of Sarah take over. As the sounds of her rapid, panicked last breaths fill his ears. It never comes. 

He doesn’t panic at the thought of having a child that could remind him of Sarah. Ellie does in some ways, but she’s a completely different type of girl. One raised in the world outside the safety of the walls of Jackson. If you had a child here, they would be innocent in some ways Ellie was not, more like Sarah. “A baby, huh?” He murmurs after a moment. “With me?” He asks. “I’m nearly sixty, baby. You want that?”

You sense his hesitation and you feel like backtracking but you think about the nights you’ve spent awake pondering this, weighing the pros and cons of having his baby in this world. You reach for his hand, “I know and I still want it. Spending time with Ellie, helping with your nephew, it’s made me realize that I can do it. It’s hard, always hard being a mother, but I’m ready and I want a baby. I want a baby that will carry our legacy, a baby that will grow up safe and capable. We will make sure of it. Unless you don’t want that, which is - it’s fine. I’ll handle your decision. We both have to want this, Joel. Not just me. Don’t do it for me. I want you to want this too and if you don’t, then that’s case closed.” You promise, not wanting to pressure him.

Joel squeezes your hand gently, reminded of the nights he had woken in a cold sweat, sometimes from the broken memories of him being attacked or the memory of losing Sarah. You have been right beside him, offering him comfort and solace. He’s told you about that night, sharing with you memories that he has kept bottled for over twenty years. You had cried in his arms like you had been Sarah’s mother, assuring him that he had done everything right to try to protect his baby girl. The fact that he’s not immediately said no is very insightful and he bites his lip and watches you with a softness that even a year ago, he was unsure he was capable of. “It’s been a looooong time since 2 AM feedings and my hearing is shot.” He snorts, smiling slightly. “You’ll have to poke me to wake me up if you want me to get up with a baby.”

You smile, loving the way he has agreed to having a baby with you. “You’re forgetting the best part about deciding to have a baby….” You trail off and smirk, “the trying.” He returns your smirk and you giggle, standing up from your seat and you round the table to sit in his lap. “I love you.” You murmur when you’re settled in his lap, reaching up to caress his cheek. “I want you to fuck a baby into me, Joel.”

“Fuck, that’s hotter than I ever imagined.” Joel grunts, twitching underneath you. His sex drive isn’t completely on par with yours, but he keeps up and keeps you satisfied in other ways. You’ve told him you don’t regret being with him at all. Which is another balm on his battered soul. “You want me to cum in that pretty pussy?” He asks, squeezing your ass. “Imagined how you would look dripping me a few times.”

You moan, kissing along his jaw as his words wash over you. “I want you to cum inside of me. Put a baby in me.” You plead, wiggling on his lap. His hair has grown back now, more gray in it, but you love it, and you reach up to run your fingers through his hair.

He groans and captures your lips with his, licking into your mouth immediately as the easy passion blooms between you. His hands move to start stripping you down.

It doesn’t take long for you and Joel to be naked. You stumbled up the stairs to your bedroom, clothes scattered on the trail upstairs and when you lay down on the bed, Joel is immediately hovering over you. Your heart is pounding in your chest and his hand slides along your thigh, cupping your pussy. “I don’t want foreplay. I just want you. Want to feel all of you.” You murmur, caressing his shoulders.

There are times when you want the burn of his cock stretching you out and tonight is one of those nights it seems. That’s good because Joel is impatient to get inside you. He takes his cock in hand and pumps it a few times as he shuffles forward to press against your entrance. “I love you.” He murmurs.

He pushes inside of you, stretching you out, and you gasp out “love you too.” He pushes inside of you until he’s fully seated and you take a deep breath, enjoying the weight of his body on top of yours and the weight of the moment. Deciding to take this step together has your body primed and ready for him. He starts to move inside of you and you wrap your legs around his waist, moaning at the way he rocks into you.

Nearly dying hadn’t had the lasting effects that the doctors had feared when Joel had been brought in. His thrusts are steady, if not a little harder than normal, although he keeps the pace sedate. Not rushing, but he enjoys burying himself as deep as he can go and watching your eyes roll back in pleasure. “Gonna knock you up.” He grunts out.

His words make you clench around him, your hands sliding down his back to squeeze his ass. His recovery has been a miracle from the man who was on death's door to the man currently making love to you trying to get you pregnant. You whimper when his lips find your neck and you rock your hips up to try and meet his.

Every time the two of you come together, Joel remembers how lucky he is. His kisses trail along your throat as he groans into your skin. Both of you give and take from each other. “Fuck, baby.” Joel moans, his body tensing when you clench down around him again. “You gonna cum before I fill you up? Love it when you soak my cock.”

You nod, "yes baby. I - shit - you always feel so good." You slide one hand down between you so you can rub your clit. He immediately bats your hand away after shifting his weight onto one elbow. You moan when he rubs your clit just right, his hips pushing into your ass as you take him deep inside of you. "Shit. Joel. You - I'm - God." You cry out as you clamp down on his cock, soaking him.

“That’s it, good girl, goooooood girl.” Joel moans, clenching his teeth as you come apart around him. He feels his own body is ready to cum, excited by the situation and it only takes a few more thrusts. Instead of pulling his hips back, he plunges them forward, embedding himself deep as he paints your womb with his seed. “Fuck, fuck.” He pants, closing his eyes as he rides out his orgasm, amazed at how good it feels. “You’ll be pregnant in no time.”

You smile against his lips when he leans in to kiss you and you’re so hopeful for the future with Joel. A baby that looks like the two of you combined. You are excited and when he pulls out, you keep his cum inside of you, trying to make sure that it takes. You’ll be pregnant in no time.

****

“Sweetheart….I’m supposed to go ride the southern border and check the area.” You’ve quieted down over the past few hours, but he can still see the sadness lurking in your eyes. You’ve stopped blaming yourself but he knows those thoughts are bouncing around and he’s reluctant to leave you. “Do you want me to have Tommy go? Stay here with you?”

You shake your head, eyes sore from crying, “no baby. Just go. I’ll be fine. Ellie will be back soon.” You murmur, keeping your back turned towards him. You feel useless, you feel broken, and you feel exhausted. You’ve tried so hard to get pregnant. You even researched old wives tales about how to get pregnant. You’ve taken herbs, teas, anything you can to get pregnant and after trying for so long, you’re exhausted.

He worries about you, leaning over and pressing his lips to your forehead. “I’ll be back as quickly as possible and I’ll make dinner tonight.” He offers. It’s the historical Mother’s Day today, and he knows you will be extra glum since you are once again not pregnant. Sometimes he wonders if he should just tell you that he’s changed his mind, taking the guilt and worry about it off your shoulders. You can blame him for not having a child. “Okay?”

“Sure.” You murmur, closing your eyes as a cramp contracts in your stomach, making you curl into a ball. You really thought this was it. Your period was two weeks late and you didn’t tell Joel because you wanted to surprise him and then you got your period. You sniff and Joel sighs, shuffling out of the bed to get ready for his shift. You can’t blame him. He’s had a kid. It’s got to be you that’s the issue.

He’ll look for some wildflowers for you while he’s out. They always make you smile and tonight, he will do his best to make sure that you know that no matter what, he loves you. He thinks about all this while he puts his clothes on and brushes his teeth, coming out of the bathroom to find you still curled up. “Go soak in a hot bath, baby.” He suggests, walking over to the bed and kissing your cheek. “I’ll be back soon.”

You listen to him go and you know it's technically Mother's Day today. Salt in the wound. You swallow harshly and wait until the front door closes before you allow yourself to sob again. You can't believe you aren't pregnant. You've tried so hard. Maybe you aren't meant to be a mother.

Saddling the horse and getting let out of the gates of Jackson has Joel on autopilot. Most often the scouting parties are in groups, but today had been just singles, most men in the community wanting to spend time with their wives and celebrate them. The grass is green and lush; there's a certain beauty to the mild spring transitioning into warmer weather. Urging the horse forward, he is eager to finish the patrol so he can get back to you.

You have your bath, eyes sore from sobbing, and you try to come to terms that you’re never going to be a mother. It’s just not in the cards. You love Ellie and you think of her as your daughter but you wanted a baby, a combination of you and Joel to love and care for in this new world. That isn’t going to happen and you curl around yourself in bed after you’re dry, trying to cope with that fact.

Pulling the reins, Joel listens carefully, certain that he has just heard a cry. His hand goes to his rifle to pull it off his shoulder. Wary of traps or ruses to draw unsuspecting people in, he scans the area. Silence lingers long enough until he’s almost convinced he was hearing things when there’s another, louder cry. A baby. His eyes widen and he nudges the horse forward again. “Hello?” He cups his hand and calls out, wondering if there is a group traveling nearby. There must be, if there is a baby. Mountain lions and things that can sound like a baby crying are farther up in the mountains. Instead of the sound quieting, the crying turns into screaming, giving him a direction to head towards. Joel keeps his rifle up and guides the horse with his knees when he almost stumbles upon the scene. 

“Shit!” There’s a woman lying on the ground, face down with a carrier on her back, a small baby - no more than three or four months old - screaming from the restraints. He scans the areas again, looking for a trap, but there’s nothing moving. The baby's howls prompts him to dismount and move towards the woman, his rifle pointed at her until he reaches them and nudges her with his boot. Wondering if she’s been changed and cannot get to the baby, although he’s never seen one go dormant with a human around and making noise. “Hey…” prodding her doesn’t make her move and Joel scans the area again, the open range not a good spot to plan an ambush, but someone could be hiding in the tall grass. Carefully kneeling down, he grabs a bony thin shoulder and turns the woman enough to see that her gaunt face and shrunken eyes are lifeless. “Shit.” He hisses, looking back at the baby who is almost as bad as the mother. From what it looks like, this poor woman had been traveling to find shelter, food, anything for her and her baby and she collapsed less than two miles from salvation. 

Joel sighs as he sets the rifle down and rolls the body on its side. “I’m sorry.” He murmurs quietly, his heart clenching at the reality of the situation, reaching out to close the woman’s eyes before unbuckling the strap for the carrier that is across her chest.

Ellie returns before Joel does and you offer her a smile as she says hello. “I, uh, I made you something.” She says, handing you a piece of paper. It’s a card. “Happy Mother’s Day” it says and your heart clenches. A genuine smile on your face as you realize she made this for you. You open it and tears sting in your eyes as you read her scrawled handwriting. “Thank you for being the mom I never had.” She wrote and you choke, reaching for her. “I love you so much sweetheart.” You pull her close, reminded that you have a beautiful daughter who loves you. “I love you too.” She murmurs, holding you just as tight. The front door opens and you pull back as you hear a baby crying. “Joel?” You gasp when your partner walks into the kitchen.

“Ellie….go to Tommy’s and get a bottle.” He orders the teenager as he starts to pull the baby carrier off his own chest to take the baby out. He had brought the body back, but this baby needed milk as soon as he could get it for her. “I found her,” he explains. “A woman collapsed two miles away from Jackson, she starved to death.” He motions you over. “At least, I think it’s a girl.”

Your eyes widen as he cradles the baby and you reach out to take them into your arms. The baby’s diaper is dirty and you shush them as you walk over to grab an old dish towel from the drawer as a makeshift diaper. “It’s okay, sweetheart.” You coo, unwrapping the baby on the kitchen table and you tell Joel to get a wet cloth. You work on cleaning up the baby, “it’s a girl.” You announce and wrap her in the dishtowel, using the pin from her old diaper. “It’s okay sweetheart. You’re okay, sweet girl. You’re safe and we are going to get you milk.” You promise, cradling her as you turn back towards Joel. “Her poor mother. So close to salvation.” You sigh, shaking your head at the tragedy.

“I brought her back.” Joel tells you quietly, watching as you bounce the baby girl in your arms and coo at her to calm her down. “Hoping something in her bag would tell us where she’s from, what the baby’s name is.” He sighs softly. “I couldn’t leave her out there.”

“Her mother deserves a service, a burial. We must give this little one a place to visit her mother.” You murmur, stroking her cheek. She’s gorgeous, her eyes watching you, and you try to not get too attached to her, knowing that Maria and Tommy will be handling the situation.

Ellie comes bursting into the house. “Got a bottle!” She yells, thundering down the hall to rush into the kitchen. “Tommy and Maria are coming too.” She pants, quickly handing the full bottle of milk to you. The baby is obviously hungry because the second that you brush the nipple against her mouth, she shakes her little head furiously as she tries to get it in her mouth, crying out before the nipple is in and immediately starting to suckle hungrily with great, greedy gulps.

“We will need more. Tommy and Maria have everything for a baby. We - they should take her.” You murmur, knowing it will be hard to hand the baby over but she isn’t yours and the leader needs to make a decision on her placement.

Joel takes one look at the way you hold this baby while she’s eating and knows that’s not what needs to happen. This baby is your chance to be a mother, to feel like a mother. It’s like it was fate for him to be out there and find her today, to bring her to you. “I think we should keep her.” Joel tells you, coming up and laying his hand on your shoulder. “Tommy and Maria have a lot on their plate with one baby already.”

Your eyes widen as you look at him then back at the baby. “We - us - are you - Joel.” You whisper, a soft smile on your face as you dare to hope that you can keep the little girl. It feels wrong. Her mother just died, but she can’t be left alone. She needs someone to look after her.

The front door opens. “Joel?” Tommy’s voice floats through the house and Joel keeps looking at you with the baby. “In the kitchen.” He calls out. The guards at the gates had kept his horse with the poor woman’s body and he had known Tommy and Maria would come to find out what the hell happened, but he wanted to get the baby here first. Footsteps quickly sound out, two sets of them like he expected and the baby is still greedily sucking away at the milk when his brother and sister in law come into the kitchen.

You look up as Maria walks in, her baby strapped to her chest, and she immediately comes over to see the baby in your arms. “Oh, she’s a sweet little thing. She needs fattening up. Poor girl, her mom was so close to our gates. She needs a mother. You should be her mother.” She says and you stare at her, “are you sure?” Maria smiles, stroking the head of her son. “She needs a mother and you are a more than capable applicant.” She gestures to the way you’re holding the baby. “I- I know this sounds insane but I feel like this is my purpose.” You murmur, looking down at her as she suckles.

Tommy smirks at Joel, who is obviously relieved by the decision. He’s talked to Tommy about the issues you’ve had trying to conceive and wished that there was some way for you to figure out what was wrong, but there just aren’t the medical resources here in Jackson. Joel had even been thinking about trying one of the universities, but couldn’t risk it again. “We both feel that way.”

You smile, cooing at the baby. “Did we find out what her name is?” You ask and Tommy nods, holding up a note that was in the mother’s satchel. “Her name is Hope.” Tommy reveals and you smile, “Hope.” You murmur, pulling the bottle away when she’s done. You shift her to your shoulder to burp her and you cradle her once she’s burped. “She’s our hope.” You declare as you look at Joel and he comes over to wrap his arm around you, looking down at the baby. “Our new daughter.” Joel murmurs, kissing your hair and he beckons Ellie over. “She’s kinda cute.” Ellie says and leans in to stare at the baby. “Hi Hope. I’m Ellie. Your big sister. I’ll teach you everything you need to know. Especially about our grumpy dad.” She jokes and Joel chuckles and rolls his eyes. “We will gather everything you’ll need and we will make sure her mother has a proper burial. For now, you guys settle in as a family.” Maria says, stepping back towards Tommy. “Oh and Happy Mother’s Day.” Maria says to you and you smile, “you too.” You may not be able to have a biological baby but you have Ellie and you have Hope. The two girls who have made you a mother.

[kitasgloves]

"Kiss Goodnight"

tracklist

— ♬ "I don't want to spend my life, life. Without your kiss goodnight"

— ♬ Sakusa x Reader, timeskip, SFW, fluff, fem reader, friends to lovers, no beta just Kiyoomi being terribly in love

For a long time, Sakusa Kiyoomi was accustomed to not caring about anything that didn't concern or affect him. All he regarded was volleyball, hygiene, and his health. He doesn't care about how others perceive him, he doesn't care about their opinions, and he doesn't care about getting along with people. Sakusa doesn't care about anything at all. But he wished someone would tell him why he still stops and stares every time you call.

He knows that girls like you, don't come with guarantees. But why does Sakusa bother lingering around you? Why does he often seek you in a room? Why does he make an effort to talk to you? And why do you have such a profound effect on him? Sakusa knows all he shared with you was friendship, but if you've got to spend your time, why won't you spend it with him?

During the period he met and grew to know you as the team manager, changes began to occur with him. Changes that cause concern and changes that he knows you were the cause. Sakusa finds his social battery persisting when you start talking with him. He looks forward to group nightouts when you're invited. And outstandingly, he sees crowds more bearable when he's close to you, especially when you take hold of his hand. During the evenings he'll walk home with you, seeing how near you get to him with each step, Sakusa hoped you and he would kiss goodnight before parting ways. If you think that it's right, he hopes you and him kiss goodnight. But, it never happens.

Not that he started caring about people, he just became less gloomy. Sakusa just learned to ease up because of you. He notices how he easily lets people approach him and how he doesn't immediately push them away. He can hold conversations longer and even crack a smile or two. Most of all, Sakusa becomes more confident in showing the world who he is. Because he was more than just a prickly-looking, serious-toned, and intimidating athlete. He was a man passionate about things he cared about. And it also involved you.

As subtly and quietly as he could, Sakusa cared for you in both minuscule and major ways, something so foreign but refreshing to experience. Offering spare wet wipes during lunch, holding the umbrella for you when it was raining or sunny, or even combing your hair back when you were throwing up during one of your hangovers. He never verbally expressed his affection because he believed his actions were loud enough. But will you pick those loose signals up?

Should you invite him in to spend the night on the floor? Sakusa realizes that he doesn't mind. How absurd as it may seem, especially from a clean freak like him, that he doesn't care about sleeping on the dusty floor of your bedroom if it means he gets to spend the night with you. If you prefer him not to, best believe he'll be a gentleman or you can show him the door. However, hope blooms in his chest when you take him to your room that night after watching movies. There was an unexplainable glimmer in your eye that blinded him in the dark as he sat on the foot of your bed.

"Kiyoomi?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to stay over?"

"Sure"

And you smiled at him. At that moment, he doesn't want to spend his life with anyone else. He slept on a cold futon but his body felt flushed with heat. Sakusa was peering up at you on your bed and you gaze back at him with a playfulness that makes his cheeks ache from grinning. 

"Good night, Kiyoomi"

"Good night, [Name]"

Sakusa didn't want to close his eyes without reaching over to kiss you on the forehead. The action makes you momentarily freeze but let out a giggle that makes his chest flutter. Why don't we kiss goodnight? Sakusa thinks. Though it might just end his life. But he's pretty sure that it's right that you and him should kiss goodnight. 

The longer he looked at you, the more it made sense. And over time Sakusa couldn't hold back his emotions any longer without spilling them to you. But call him delusional but he's beginning to see you returning his affections. His eyes feed him with encouragement every time he sees your smile wider when he's around, or how your voice sounded more tender when calling his name, or how gentle your hand felt on his arm. Even if the two of you grew more obvious, Sakusa needed confirmation.

Valentine's Day was naturally busy with couples walking around and special events made for lovers. There were promos for the team Sakusa played with that he had to deal with and exclusive events for fans, such as meet and greets. Sakusa couldn't wait for the day to end so he could shoot his shot at you while today lasted. After hundreds of talking and taking pictures with fans, Sakusa bolted into the showers and got dressed. 

"Oh, Omi-kun's got a date!"

"I bet it's [Name]-chan!"

"It is! I saw him asking her out after the meet and greet!"

Chatter filled the showers, and although Sakusa rolled his eyes, there was a tint of pink on his cheeks and a hint of a smile. He nods goodbye to his teammates and rushes to meet you at the restaurant he suggested. Sakusa arrives breathless but oxygen was even more severely knocked out of his lungs when he saw your alluring figure waiting for him at the entrance. For a six-foot man, Sakusa felt absolutely weak.

"You good? You're sweating a lot"

You tilt your head at him and he waves it off as he offers his arm for you to take before entering the restaurant. Dinner was filled with hushed laughter and exchanging dirty jokes. Sakusa thought how impressive it was that he didn't look away from you at least once and he finds you doing the same. It took all of his willpower not to lean over the table and kiss you then and there, not caring if he got lipstick stains on his lips. He holds back because he was reserving it for later.

After dinner, you and he strolled around the city with linked arms and intertwined hands. Sakusa couldn't help but stare and think a lot about your mouth, he wanted to shut you up so badly with his mouth whenever you talked. But he's not the type to be into making out in public. So, he clings on to the remains of his patience as he takes you home. He was about to lean in at your doorstep and kiss you goodnight, this time on the lips, but you stopped him with a grip on his tie.

"You should stay over"

Oh, Sakusa's heart skips a beat. You were not asking him if he wanted to stay over, you were telling him to stay over. And he agrees quicker than a blink of an eye. He shrugs off his coat and strips it into his underclothes, you brush your teeth and change into your sleepwear. But you both didn't plan on sleeping yet. While tucked under the covers with the television on, Sakusa gives you one look to find your eyes drooping, it was his chance.

You felt a pair of soft and eager lips on yours, enough to jolt you awake. Sakusa was kissing you and you sprung into action by wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close to deepen the kiss. He hums into the kiss as his hands snake around your waist while he towered over you. The happiest chemicals burst throughout his body as you open your mouth to invite his tongue in, he obliges and steals a moan out of you. Feverent hands pull and grip each other close while in a liplock as you two pull away after what felt like eons.

"Kiyoomi..."

His name sounded breathless on your lips and his guts suddenly felt like mush. Then he leans in to steal a kiss, and another, and another until you laugh and push him away because of how greedy he is.

"I'm terribly in love with you, [Name]"

"You're lucky I feel the same way"

"So, can we kiss goodnight?"

Sakusa looks into your eyes and smiles when you roll your eyes before cackling at him. He was beyond glad now you and he can kiss goodnight. When you lean forward and give him a long smooch on the lips, he lets out a relieved sigh.

"I don't want to spend my life without your kiss good night"

He says and your eyes soften. As the television switches off and you both curl under the covers, Sakusa gazes at you with his onyx orbs filled with warmth as he goes to stroke your cheek before going forward one last time to kiss you goodnight. Your eyes shoot open and grin as you return the favor and it makes Sakusa's limbs feel like melting butter. Yeah, for the rest of his life, Sakusa needs your kiss goodnight.

©kitasgloves (do not steal or copy)

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

On the heels of coop with body hair 'nd all that, how would coop feel about his lover having a happy trail/body hair/clean shaved? Obvi it's different for everyone irl with preferences, just wanted your thoughts!! 💗

Anon, apparently you, me, and @love-affair-with-fandoms are forming some sort of dark triad with our brains, because they sent me this wonderful little Walton Goggins interview blurb that I think perfectly sums up how both versions of Cooper Howard would feel about body hair on a partner (it was literally the next ask in my inbox and they came within a few minutes of one another!):

Prewar!Cooper Howard is so used to being around "L.A. people" who are all perfectly made-up, waxed, tanned, and toned constantly, so I think having a partner with any body hair would be strangely exciting to him. I think it would remind him of a kind of authenticity, a sort of comfort with oneself and one's body that he almost never sees anymore. And I think he'd like that a lot. Do you know anything about raising chickens, by the way...?

Also, this quote only confirms further to me that he would be a big ol' fan of bush of all kinds. Even if he waxes his chest, which I think he would for pretty boy actor reasons, his pubes are intact. Like I said, not unkempt, but he's certainly not shaving below the belt. He'd prefer it if you didn't, either. Granted, he's a sweetheart who respects your autonomy, so if you wanna be dolphin smooth, you won't see him complaining. Maybe you've always shaved or waxed, even just trimmed it short, and you get behind on your grooming for a few weeks due to life being hectic. The first time he sees you that way, I think it would turn him on a lot and you'd be due for a lesson on how much this man loves eating hairy pussy. Not bad incentive to ditch the extra work of shaving/trimming, or the extra cost of waxing (which he will happily pay for if you decide you still want to do it in the future, make no mistake...it'll just make him a little sad inside).

The Ghoul (like most ghouls, in my opinion) is just obsessed with human hair, period. Doesn't matter where it's growing from. Spending decades and decades with no hair will make you forget how nice it can feel, how unique its presence can make the human face and body, so I think hair anywhere on you would be constantly petted and stared at once you two got close enough. And I mean anywhere. Hairy knuckles or forearms? Happy trail/belly hair? Especially thick eyebrows? Fascinated by it all, hovering close the second you have anything bare enough for him to touch it. You tease him about it, and he tells you to shut up. When you get really close, you often fall asleep to the feeling of him stroking your hair.

He's long forgotten (and then remembered again) that women used to be expected to shave basically everything, and he's decided that he much prefers the way things are now, for once, on that front. He thinks your armpit and leg hair is cute and he'd be so sad to see you without it.

Would be similarly crazy about bush, but in a softer, more reverent way. I think he would like to take a long nap on a nice, soft bush.

[ipostwhatiwant1202]

More Boyfriend Headcanons: Mikey Edition

• "mikey! you're squishing me!" "you're so comfy." "i can't breathe." "cause you're in looove!"

• will just be in your apartment when you get home eating your snacks

• cleans up after himself for you

• usually will make dinner for you on nights you get home late

• tries (keyword:tries) to be respectful of your space

• wants to constantly be touching you in some way, he doesn't care how (do with that what you will)

• karaoke nights to cheer you up

• inside jokes are definitely a thing

• not talking to him? okay, have fun trying to find the chocolate stash you had hidden that he sniffed out that vanished all of a sudden

• keep him away from alcohol for world peace

• he's mad? he calls you by your name

• you say michaelangelo or 'angelo' and he shuts right up cause uh oh he's in for it now

• known to nuzzle his face in your hair cause it smells nice

• hygiene is okay, could be better, he just forgets to bathe sometimes cause adhd

• "why is there blood? ARE YOU DYING!? oh...OH! aw baby! go shower, i got this."

• "how can you use that razor and not cut your face? are you a jedi?"

• "angeeeel! i am in desperate need of love!"

• "babe, raph's being mean to me again!"

• gossip with him, just do it. girl's girl 100%

• can't lie to save his life so he's always honest

• ultimate hypeman, he always makes sure you feel like the only girl/boy/person in the world

• will dance with you to any kind of music or no music

• boops your nose cause he thinks it's cute

• face squisher

• type to kiss all over your face to wake you

• loves to carry you around everywhere

• meme lord. do with that what you will

• snores and kicks in his sleep (good luck)

• makes sure you always have the best seat when you come for movie night

• loves laying his head on your lap/chest

• pick up lines constantly, even through text

• forgets a lot of things but somehow remembers things you told him months ago

• invites you to game with him but wants to do your favorite things too

• will share his food with you and gives you more

• always asks your opinion on everything

• emotionally very intelligent and knows limits

• do a fashion show for him, just do it

• he's gassy so keep in mind what you want to feed him

• no problem getting you pads/tampons if you have periods

• no problem helping you tuck/bind if you're transitioning

• arguments are extremely rare but if he's overstimulated, he gets very loud and upset. he can't help it but he always apologizes and tries to work on it

• plays with the hem of your shirt a lot if you sit on his lap

• he said 'i love you' first and fell first

[the-demonus-aunt]

If mc started to have a nosebleed how would the brothers react (and dateables)

I love this one, it's random and chaotic xD

Belphie

It's the smell that wakes him

He opens his sleepy eyes as copper lingers all around him

His first reaction is one he's ashamed of later: Excitement. It's been too long since he's smelt something so delicious

His second reaction is fear, gripping his insides and tossing them around when he realises that it was you he fell asleep next to

When he sees you awkwardly pressing a tissue to your face, but otherwise okay, relief mixes with confusion

Once you explain the situation to him, he'll take care of you, but he WILL laugh and tease

"Little human, oh so fragile, aren't you?"

Beel

Utter shock spread across his face. Why? Because he really didn't mean to push you against the kitchen door frame face first

He was on a hunt for food, blinkers on and only one thought on his mind: hunger

Well, he forgot about yesterday's burger in the fridge now

Instead he holds a tissue to your nose, as careful as he can, and gives you some affectionate little pecks on the cheek

Who knew the giant could be so gentle

"I'm so sorry, MC. I'll make it up to you! Do you want some of my chocolate pudding?"

Asmo

Ew. Don't get any blood on his white satin scarf??

Don't worry, he'll get over himself and help you

He'll make face about it but he's already getting you a towel

Ok but why is he kinda into it? Teary eyes, metallic taste, little moans

He'll pat your head and make sure to fix your make up and clothes if they got dirty

"Oh honey, don't worry. You're still so cute, even with blood all over your face!"

Satan

He read about that!!

Yes, he gets a bit too excited about it

Can you blame him, though? You're bleeding...out of your nose! Do you not realise how weird that is?

When he realises you don't really find the situation funny, he immediately pulls himself together and is there for you

"So how can I help? More tissues? Sure! Might these cat pics comfort you?"

Levi

Oi!! What got you so horny so suddenly??

There's no use in explaining to him that that's not what nosebleeds mean after all

It couldn't have been him, could it?

...could it have been?

This seems easier in anime

He'll give you a tissue, but he'll blush way too hard

"Let's...let's just go back to playing games, 'mkay?"

Mammon

Human?! Are you dying?!

Oh man, he's freaking out

You're bleeding, you're his human and you're losing life juice!

It takes some effort to calm him down, but eventually, he learns to deal

Gives you a smelly old t-shirt to bleed onto tbh

Takes you on a gambling night out when you're okay again, bc you both deserve some fun now

"...we could prolly sell that shirt for a buncha money now, ya know?"

Lucifer

No listen. He loves you.

But he scoffs and turns his gaze back to his paperwork

He knows nose bleeds happen to humans. They're rarely dangerous. So what?

Well, you're kinda butthurt he didn't even ask if you're okay and you're showing it, too

He realises he could have been more compassionate later and apologises

He'll give you a tender flick on the nose and offer to share some demonus with you

"Do you feel better, love? Let's make you forget. What do you think?"

Diavolo

Frankly, when he smells it, he first thinks you just started your period

But when he turns around and sees what's happening, he doesn't hesitate

He wraps you up in his massive arms, pressing you to his chest without any regard for his white shirt or expensive jacket

This man will show you love and comfort, no matter what

Why? Because you're bleeding and he loves you

"MC, oh no. I'll take care of you!"

Barbatos

He gives you a handkerchief. And another one. And another one. Where does he keep all of them?

He'll clean you right up, too, when you stop bleeding.

He has also already prepared a tea that heals from the inside. When did he do that?

You'll have forgotten about your pain within minutes. How couldn't you?

"How unfortunate. Here, don't mind it. We'll have you fixed in no time."

Solomon

Well, he's human, so he gets it

He lends you a cloth with a weird gel already stuck to it and makes you some hot chocolate as solace

"MC? Where did you go? I made us some hot drinks?"

Simeon

Oh?

MC, are you alright? You seem to have something on your face...

He's never seen anything like it before but he remains calm and curious

He asks about what to do and follows your explanations to the letter

He also tries to search the internet for advice but all the spelling mistakes let the searches go nowhere

"Oh my. What's happening? This is normal, you say? Okay, what do we do?"

[djevelbl]

PぇあせたーLSぼいTくPぢっRSぎおなーふぇあろFへーっPぇあぜPーえあZDーえっせ I forgot to change language but, PLEASE talk about cups irrational fear of help/therapy, I love your long ass essays plz🔥🔥

This is the thing - IM!Cup is very closed-minded when it comes to new things; change has never been a benevolent mistress to him, after all. Which is understandable - you close off from the things that hurt you so they can't happen again, and while that's a survival tactic and fine on its own, the goal of therapy is to work on yourself and find a way to live life the best you can manage. And Cuphead is not living, but surviving. There's a difference. He's constantly paranoid, looking over his shoulder in case him and Mugs need to run immediately, he's in vigil 24/7 (does this man fucking sleep? Maybe, remains to be seen) so nobody can sneak up on them, even if they have money from the Devil (and it doesn't sound like a negligible amount either) he doesn't seem keen on spending it - probably 'cuz that's all they have in terms of monetary gain. He's been trained into these instincts and second-nature acts that he performs like a ritual every day - have you seen him relaxed? - and these things take a toll on you; there's a reason being on "survival mode" for prolonged periods of time is fucking dangerous - our bodies ain't made for that. He's also just. Scared of spilling his guts out, of being vulnerable and being taken advantage of - "that's happened already three times, who's to say it won't happen many more?" - as he seeks help; this is a learning curve, understanding that one needs help and that they're in a comfortable enough position to seek it out and get it ain't gonna come naturally to a lotta folks, especially if they've been doing the shit he's been doing for the past decade.

When he looks in the mirror he doesn't see what we see: in our eyes, Cuphead is a victim of sorts - a victim turned victimizer, but a victim nonetheless - who's hand has been forced for a decade into all sorts of nefarious acts and activities, who wakes up only to try and keep on going for his brother's sake. We think of Cuphead as a brave yet vulnerable man, somebody who's been beaten to the ground day in and day out, loyal to a fault, a golden heart who, given the chance, wouldn't hurt anybody who didn't raise their hand against him first. When he looks in the mirror, all he sees is a monster. And typically, people don't like monsters.

People don't help monsters, the undesirables, the unworthy - in his mind therapy isn't for "somebody like him" and it ain't hard to see what that means to him: a villain, a monster, a killer and maybe, just maybe, someone worse than the Devil. He doesn't think himself worthy of help, because all he sees in his eyes is the flash of demon-blood red, in his hands the blood he's spilled, in his face a perpetually furrowed brow and pursed lip - and he's forgotten that those features are a mask. When he looks in the mirror he sees what the Devil has sharpened him into, and not what he actually is. Everybody is deserving of help and improvement, yet Cup doesn't want it because for it he needs to be vulnerable - he isn't that, not anymore. He's quick on the uptake and knows how to learn his lessons, so he wouldn't let himself be deconstructed like a frog on science class - he isn't some shrink's little lab rat, he won't be metaphorically (but it ain't gonna feel all that metaphorical) vivisected for what he would probably percieve as the entertainment of anybody. He's not stupid, he's not blind - yet he is paranoid and overly carefull, he needs to be, and these things get in the way of him getting help. He doesn't fully recognize that he's got people on his corner - for the longest time it had been only him and Mugs, and he's the protector, the muscle of their little duo. He's the one to defend Mugs, to keep his hands as clean from the carnage as their situation would allow; he's the intimidating one, the brother willing to be the villain so the other can sleep semi-peacefully at night - after all, if Mugs isn't happy, is Cup doing his job correctly?

He's never had somebody go to bat for him, so therapy is an even stranger concept - and y'know that paranoia has people seeing demons in the bushes and witches in the trees.

[starrclownshazbinblog]

got any niffty facts? 👀

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

Nifty, considering she died at 18, is really childish. She tries to act older than she is but because her brain never got to fully develop she doesn't understand why everyone treats her like a little kid. She especially hates it when Angel babies her.

Nifty's favorite person in the Hotel is KeeKee.

Nifty likes to play matchmaker. She likes to take people in her life and ship them together. No one minded until she shipped Mimzy and Angel together because they are like parents too her. Alastor did not appreciate this. (I hope you are confused by this.)

Nifty listens to Elvis.

Nifty really likes Mimzy.

Nifty can't remember her parents but she knows she misses them.

Nifty wears herself out easily. Because she runs around so much and does so much, Nifty forgets to eat. Or sit down ever. Because she doesn't eat much and she runs around so much, Nifty kinda passes out whenever. The cast knows to look for her if the hotel is silent for 30 minutes.

Nifty does NOT like being babied.

Nifty really likes sweet things like cupcakes or chocolate.

Nifty's love language is gift giving.

Nifty is bilingual. She speaks Japanese and English fluently.

Nifty can't stand to be around sad people. Nifty doesn't like to be sad so she'll stay away form you if your going through something rough.

Nifty doesn't like kids. She'll baby sit then but she's scared if having her own kid.

Nifty is scared of heights. She can't stand mire than 10 feet of the ground. Angel tries to help her with this because he's over 10 feet. She's working on it.

Nifty like Twilight. She's team Edward.

Nifty is kinda nosy. When she cleans rooms if she finds your stuff she'll absolutely go through it. She's also not above picking locks to get to your things.

Nifty's favorite animal is a sloth. She likes how they look.

Nifty has alot of internalized misogyny. Considering the time period she grew up in and the role models she had, she can be pretty fucking mean to herself and other woman. (The main cast are empathetic to this. They know Nifty is young and that was just how she was raised. They try to unteach the toxic mentalities she has.

Nifty's favorite ice cream flavor is Strawberry with chocolate syrup with nuts and sprinkles.

Nifty has wings but she can't fly with them. Valerie is trying to teach her but she can't fly well. Husk has to teach both of them.

(There's not alot of them on here but I'm tired y'all. Live my girl Nifty but I need sleep. I just realized that alit of these facts have alot of lore.)

- ⭐️StarClown⭐️

[weirdsociology]

Distractions (The Mandalorian, E)

Title: Distractions (6.6k)

Series: Part one of Creed, a non-linear series about Din Djarin and his favorite... distraction. 

Description: An artifact from the Mandalorian's past leads to trying something new - and remembering the past.

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader

Content warnings: Explicit sexual content, sex toys, fingering, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, oral sex, penetrative sex, implied violence, spit, a touch of size kink, light manhandling, very mild D/s in all directions because we love a switch in this house, no betas we die like men, canon what canon

Tropes: hurt/comfort, idiots with feelings, angst but it all works out in the end, the helmet stays on

Author's note: I blacked out, I don't know what happened, and frankly I'm embarrassed that the first fanfic I've written in 20 years is kind of fluffy and not significantly more insane. This little offering is canon timeline-agnostic; I just wanted to give our armored dumbass a happy ending. Please don't think this reflects my personality, I am spiritually covered in the blood of my enemies at all times. Also there is one small bit of truth from my personal life in here and I'll give you a hint: it wasn't flashbangs, it was bayonets. This one is for @tarabyte3 who got me excited about what fanfiction can do again.

***

Sometimes, it's hard to sleep in hyperspace. A ship this old doesn't have the automated circadian rhythm programs that dim the lights according to species preference, and all the daylight bulbs are second-hand, their blueness dimmed by repeated use. Darkness is in plentiful supply, but that's only half the equation of an artificial night. You do your best, careful to check the time reads on the navigational display, and adhere to a schedule as much as you can. It helps give structure to long periods of transit, and you know that ten years from now, your body and mind will thank you for being careful to guard their rest.

The Mandalorian, by contrast, doesn't have a diurnal cycle as far as you've been able to tell. His sleep patterns are pure anarchy, having nothing to do with mood or physical need. Sometimes he'll spend a week getting no more rest than a few brief, truncated minutes on the ground after trekking in harsh terrain. Sometimes you'll go looking for him after a quiet stretch in flight and he'll be in the bed he calls his rack, completely dormant for the next fourteen standard hours. You don't know how he does it. He lives like someone who fully expects to die before their body has enough years to register protest - which on the one hand makes you anxious, and on the other you find it hard to blame him for.

Still, despite all your attendance to regularity, there are nights - times - when you can't sleep. Especially when you are headed past the Outer Rim, and the length of travel means nothing to do except read and watch holovideos you've already seen and eat stale food and exercise in cramped, artificial repetition. Nothing new to look at, nothing new to do.

Which is how you end up awake at this hour, dressed in nothing but your bandeau and shorts with goosebumps pebbling your legs as you lean over one of the big crates in the cargo bay. You're digging through the thermoplastic case that holds the Mandalorian's personal possessions, looking for one of the old holonovels you're sure he has stowed, when you find it. A smooth, round black cylinder with a cap on each end. At first, you suspect it's yet another esoteric firearm - but then why isn't it in the weapons locker above?

Curious, you gingerly remove the cap from one end. Life on the ship has taught you to be cautious about any unfamiliar object. You don't know if it's normal Mandalorian living style to have to shove aside a mountain of electronic flashbangs when looking for clean blankets, but it's certainly normal for this one.

What's inside isn't like any weapon you've ever seen. The cylinder is filled with something soft and yielding, silicone or plastisilk you think, and it gives disconcertingly when you brush a thumb over it. There's a small bore in the middle about the diameter of your finger, but the polymer feels like it would stretch. It's textured near where the cap would fit, small ridges inside and a gentle flowering of protuberances around the borehole. Almost like -

You stand up, unsure whether to blush or laugh, and snap the cap back on. You've certainly found something new this time; something that might help break the monotony of space travel if you approach the topic - and Mando - correctly. If you're right there should be something else nearby, something that would make this a little more... usable.

There is. A discreet bottle, neatly wrapped in plain paper.

You take cylinder and bottle and step out in the corridor from the bay, checking the location of your fellow crew. Mando is not in his rack or the lockers, which means he's in the cockpit. The Child is in his usual nest. It's late, and the kid should be asleep for a long while yet. You jam the - the toy, you suppose - and the bottle into one hand and climb your way up the ladder, half appalled at your boldness and half delighted at the thought of making your Mandalorian squirm for once. You're secretly hoping to catch him out, tease him with the evidence of his private sexual habits, a friendly nip around the edges of his Creed. 

"Look what I found," you say as you approach the pilot's chair. His head is turned away from you, bent over something in the navcomp, his long legs in front of him as stretched out as they can be in the small space. He hums an acknowledgement and takes a moment to finish entering something before he looks over his shoulder. You offer the cylinder to him flat across your palms, like a knight offering a loyal blade, which you hope is both funny and at least a little charming.

It doesn't work. He's still looking at you. You wave it in front of him instead, resisting the urge to waggle your eyebrows. The helmet drops to consider the cylinder, then you. "I'd forgotten I had that. Where did you find it?"

You stop, hands still outstretched. "Forgot-- your crate in the cargo bay, but... is this what I think it is?"

Mando can't raise his own eyebrows at you, but his chin twitches upward in the way you've learned to interpret is the same thing. "Do you think it's a cock sleeve? Because it is."

"Is that what you call it?"

"I've always been less concerned about what to call it than how to use it," he says. He's fully turned to face you now. The conversation is not going as you imagined. You flush and he gives you an appraising look, taking in your half-undressed state.

"Isn't that... Against your Creed?" How does he do this. How does he always turn the tables. How is it you're the one quailing under the calm scrutiny of his helmet. You'd meant this as a good-natured ribbing, not a come-on, but suddenly you're picturing what you were decidedly not thinking about earlier - Mando, years ago, alone in his rack or fresh from a hunt, with his beskar still on and his arming jacket rucked up, screwing the toy down onto himself with his fist. The thought makes heat pool between your legs. It also makes you a little melancholy. Suddenly you want to fuck him and hold him in equal measure.

"You weren't always here, you know," he says calmly, honest and unembarrassed as he is shockingly honest and unembarrassed about everything to do with sex. He reaches for you, captures your wrists, pulls you further into the cockpit and down into his lap. You thrill as always at his casual possessiveness, his desire to be close. At the breadth of his shoulders under your hands. "The Creed isn't against pleasure, only distraction. Sometimes it's more distracting to make your body suffer than to give it what it wants."

"Like me?" you ask. It's a joke that once would have stung, an echo of your first night together - you are nothing to me but a distraction from my work - but it's an old wound, long since rubbed over by the smooth edges of time and shared affection.

An amused huff through the modulator. "Like you," he agrees, and though the helmet dampers every inflection you now know, where once you only imagined, the statement is fond.

***

You'd been traveling together for months, a reluctant passenger paired with an unhappy custodian. It had been weeks since the first time the tension between you rose to the breaking point, pulling his hands to you like a gravity well. You were now fucking the Mandalorian regularly, enthusiastically, and, at least to you, inadequately. Regardless of how well you took him, how perfectly he fit when he slicked and stretched his way into you, your heart hammered the same rhythm: no room, no room. His attitude toward you had made that abundantly clear. There was no room for you in his life, on his ship, in his Creed. You were his... distraction. That's all.

You mostly ignored it. When you were working or hunting, you barely thought about it. You pushed the thought down and stored it away to keep from slicing yourself on its sharp edges. But there were moments when it pressed forward again, tumbling out of the drawer of your heart in disarray. The Mandalorian was behind you or over you or under you and you were crying out the name you knew him by even as your blood rushed in your ears demanding more. Not more sex, not more of the heavy punch of his hips against you or the feeling of his hands in your hair, but more of him. You wanted him. You wanted everything.

You wanted to know what it kriffing meant when he called you his distraction.

And sometimes, after you had been fucked within an inch of your life and left lying on your bunk or still pressed against the weapons locker, it hurt a breathtaking amount.

You were pretty sure the Mandalorian was not unaware of how he affected you. Beyond that first epithet which became routine, he was not intentionally cruel. Away from the heat that flared between you and his resentment at his own inability to ignore it, he was considerate and distant and respectful. Unfailingly polite. You loathed every moment of it with a growing bitterness that threatened to replace food and sleep. It reminded you of the time you'd run into a recruiter after she’d turned you down for a job. Sorry kid, you had your chance to convince me and you blew it. Except Mando, being Mando, had never given you a chance at all.

It was worse when you fucked. For weeks, you had resolved over and over to put an end to his careful handling of you. Better an angry rebuttal or cold silence than... whatever this pitiful halfway connection was. Next time he approached you with that weight in his step or crowded you into a corner, too close, you would force his hand. You knew that was the time to do it, when you had his full attention and the bargaining chip of your body. You'd seize his wandering gaze and stare into the helmet: "Why do you call me a distraction?"

You had told yourself this a dozen times. But his practiced fingers were already slipping inside you and all you could do was whine as his modulated voice, sounding not quite human, breathed a word that meant nothing to you in your ear: Mesh'la, mesh'la, mesh'la.

***

You had entreated him to show you how he used it, before you joined his crew. Before, as he drily puts it while running a gloved hand up your thigh and teasing along the waistband of your shorts, he had a far superior array of options. Now you're mostly naked in the dim light, seated between his spread legs, his helmet tipped against the headrest as he leans back. You're watching the arched column of his throat, watching his gloved fingers wrapped around the cylinder and most of all, watching his thick cock disappear into the plush expanse of the toy. He's hard but not fully erect, probably because you refused to touch him until you got to see him touch himself. Not that you needed to threaten - you both know that Din, and it's Din now, in the privacy of the cockpit with both of you partially undressed and warmth radiating from him, will deny you nothing where his body is concerned. Except, of course, his face.

His cock is stirring to full attention, and you suspect it has more to do with your rapt gaze on him than his own ministrations. It's a novelty for you to watch him for once. The way you two fuck, he normally has the better view, pulling back to see your cunt swallow his length and hear you moan in gratitude. He likes to watch you touch yourself while you're speared on him, chasing your own orgasm as you clench. He likes to see your thighs tremble when you ride him, and your face when he makes you come too much. "One more, mesh'la, one more for me, let me see you," he'll croon, as one hand worships your sore clit and the other bats away your arm as you try to bury your face in the crook of your elbow. Din likes to watch anything that shows him how good he makes you feel.

Your Mandalorian might be on to something, you decide. Watching certainly has its appeal. You can hear the soft slide of the toy, see the tension in his forearms and his stomach even through his tunic, his breath through the helmet fast but even. He looks gorgeous like this, a warrior half-undone for your enjoyment. You slide the palms of your hands up his thighs and run them lightly along the bare skin peeking through where he's partially shucked himself of armor and clothing. His breathing alters a little, hitching as your skin makes contact with his.

"How does it feel?" you ask, watching the steady rise and fall of the cylinder. You idly trace a finger up his groin and along the sensitive skin just under his sack. He hisses, and you twitch in response to the noise you know so well, your cunt giving a little spasm as if to remind you of its needs.

After a moment, Din answers your question. "Tight, but not warm. Better than nothing but... Like a ration bar when I have a meal right in front of me," he adds pointedly, and one booted foot slides between your folded knees, leather rubbing along the seam of your sex to make his point clear. "I like that you like looking at me, but we could have bought a mirror instead. I could be fucking you in front of it right now."

Your cheeks warm as you think about it: Din, arching over your back, holding your chin, making you watch your own face as he nudges the head of his cock into you. You don't know how you'd feel staring at yourself like that, but your cunt twitches again, letting you know that more important parts of you fully approve of the concept. The helmet has dropped back down. He's observing your reaction. You file the idea away for later. "I like seeing you like this, though. Did you really never use it after you met me?"

A chuckle. "Oh, I used it. Before... when you were first here. I used it so much I think I did permanent damage."

A little shiver of heat winds up from the base of your spine. This is new information. But he's not done. "Which is why I should be allowed to show you how much I appreciate you, not this plastic junk." He makes a show of slowing down, grinding up into the toy and letting out an exaggerated groan. You know he's still watching you closely, waiting for his cue.

You give him a wicked grin. "Sometimes... it's more distracting to make your body suffer than give it what it wants." Din groans for real in response, but you have other things on your mind. "Back before... when you... were you thinking of me?"

He makes an uninterpretable noise. "Oh no, mesh'la, I wasn't thinking of you. Only of your hips. And your hair. And your tits. And your ass. And your cunt, and if I could get you wet for me, and what that pretty mouth would look like around me, and how you'd sound when I put my cock down your throat."

"... Fuck," you say breathlessly. What started as a flutter has become an aching, empty pulse. "Fuck, Din," and you lean forward, bringing your face almost close enough to nuzzle where he's still sheathed in the toy, breathing in his scent. It has the unintended effect of driving the tip of his boot further into you, a solid mass pushing on the thrumming bundle of nerves between your legs.

When you first started doing this, he said very little to you. You could read nothing in his body except desire and frustration, both of which he extinguished in the furnace of your sex. Later, after Mos Eisley, when anger was no longer the single note of your shared existence, he talked to you constantly. The man of few words outside the ship became the man of many words when he was buried inside you. He told you what he was going to do to you, what he wanted to do to you, how good you felt and what you did to him. He talked like he was trying to construct a gilded cage of words you wouldn't fly away from. You had been dumbfounded by the change, shy and unsure, unable to find a way to reassure him you had already stooped to his lure. Part of you was afraid that if he knew the truth - that you'd have him any way he wanted, silent or talkative or babbling in Tuskan sign - he would stop. He hadn't, but the stream had slowed. More deliberate, less frantic. Somehow even more indecent.

He's being indecent right now, timing the strokes of the toy with his words. "I wanted you every morning and twice at night." Down. "I couldn't think - could barely shoot straight." Back up. "I wanted to bend you over the crates and fuck you until you felt the same." A slow slide back down. "Fill you up with me until you cried, until you knew you were mine, until that sweet cunt wouldn't want anyone else." Up, until just the tip of him is still out of sight. He's losing his even tone, the modulator turning gasps into static. "And then I did fuck you, and it got so much worse. You let me pull you open and put my cock in the hottest, wettest place in the galaxy and-- are you really going to come on my boot instead of letting me fuck you?"

You come to with a little start, pulled aware by the abrupt shift in subject. There's dampness under you, and you realize you've been rocking back and forth on his boot, rubbing the folds of your cunt against the worn leather, and moaning into his lap while he talks. It feels so good to be here, sitting at his feet as he strokes himself for you, hearing the jagged details of your shared past transformed by pleasure. The scruff of the boot against you, the bite of a seam into your tenderest flesh, the smell - steel and old smoke and hot sand - so uniquely Mandalorian it has you panting for him.

"Din," you breathe. "Stop -- stop. I want to feel you."

That's all it takes. The toy is gone in an instant, he's off the pilot's chair and dragging you upright and his half-bare hips are against yours, crowding you into the console. His cock is painfully hard against you, already smeared with precum and the lubricant that makes someone of his size using a toy like that even possible. You realize with dizzy delight that this is going to be one of those times where he fucks you without preamble, pushing his way in, making you feel every inch of his invasion. The pleasurable burn of your cunt adjusting to his girth will be revenge for making him use the toy - a revenge he knows you will enjoy.

More leather, this time at your mouth. The feel of his glove as he curls his fingertips under your chin. "Spit," he commands, and you do.

"Good girl. Now turn around."

***

It was after the first time he'd had you in the cockpit that you'd found the courage to ask. It had already been one of the worst days of your life, what more was there to lose? You were so numb there was no cliff you wouldn't jump off, no risk you wouldn't take. If you asked and the answer was indifference, well, it was just one more pain to add to the litany: your cracked lips, your shredded feet, your bruised ribs, your bloodied hands. And soon, maybe, your broken heart.

Mando had left, as he always did, after you were done, leaving you on the steel floor mostly naked and entirely without the desire to stand on your own. You told yourself that you would simply sleep there, if you had to, rather than getting back up on your cut soles. After all, you'd slept in worse places recently. Though you'd meant it to be fierce the thought sounded pathetic even to you.

The sound of boots climbing up the ladder interrupted your self-pity. Mando had not only come back, he had come back with a box: the medkit he kept in a crate in the cargo bay. He knelt beside you on the floor and started to lift you to him, one hand on your back and one hand under your knees. It was close and familiar in the worst possible way, like the fuck wasn't, and you made a hoarse inhuman noise and tried to kick him. You slammed a broken toe into a beskar vambrace instead and then you screamed for real.

He was patient with you and you hated it with every aftershock of white-hot rage in your body. You struggled even once he managed to get you up in his arms. After a bad moment where you thought you might actually try to bite him, he stopped attempting to haul you down the ladder and dropped both of you into the pilot's chair abruptly instead, pulling his hands away like you'd burned him. "Hey, it's me, just me, the one who's on your side," he'd said, attempting a touch of humor, and strangely it was the buzz of the modulator, so unlike the voices you'd been hearing for the past few days, that had incrementally slowed your galloping heart.

The medkit was in reach and at first he was gentle but even that was too much. You pulled away without leaving the chair, putting distance between you and that damned helmet. All you wanted was to rest, except you were afraid of what you might have time to think about if you did. There was a tense minute as he resumed his work with gauze and tape and bacta spray, but even in your exhausted state you somehow felt him make the decision to stop trying to be tender. He took your cue and bandaged you with impersonal efficiency, like you were a soldier in his regiment or a fellow Mandalorian. It made his touch tolerable, and you were so tired you almost resented him for it.

By the time he was done, you were nearly asleep. You heard the click of the medkit closing and, calmer now, a little more returned to yourself, braced for him to lift you down the ladder. But he surprised you by making no move to get up, resting his hands on his legs, around you but not on you. You could tell he was waiting for something but not what. Maybe it was something from you, but you were all out of give. It was his turn.

Another moment of silence, then momentary confusion as you both spoke at once:

"I have to tell you so--"

"Mandalorian, why are you--"

He stopped. You pressed on. "Why are you always calling me a distraction?" Your tone was flat. You sounded like you could be asking about the price of power cells.

The helmet twisted. This was clearly not the direction he expected your post-coital, post-triage conversation to take. "Because you're distracting."

You thought anger might be the only thing keeping you upright. "Not good enough. What the fuck are we even doing here? Why did you come after me? You told me we were done, that you didn't owe me anything. You could have left me there and pocketed the bounty for yourself. They would have let me go once they convinced themselves I didn't have the information.” A lie, but he doesn’t need to know that. “That doesn't sound like I'm just a distraction."

"I said you're distracting, and you are. That's different." You were sure he was being pedantic but your tired brain couldn't keep up with Mando at his most evasive. "You're not just a distraction. I don't make a habit of coming back for-- distractions."

Coming back for was a polite euphemism for the amount of killing Mando had done in the past few hours. None of it mattered to you if he was doing it because of his damned Creed. Maybe none of it mattered at all. Maybe you had kept your mouth shut for nothing. Your chest hurt and you had no idea if it was because of your ribs or because of your heart. You kept going.

"It makes no difference if I'm a distracting fuck or something worth coming back for or a kriffing bantha, Mando. I'm still..." Exhaustion made you blunt. "I'm still against your Creed."

He made a noise that could have been agreement, or negation. "The Creed is not against pleasure. Or companionship. Only... distractions." He sounded like he was reading out of a textbook. You'd heard it all before. You had wrung everything out of him you could about his Creed, because you wanted to find somewhere to fit. That was all he'd ever said.

He surprised you again. "Distraction is a-- it's not easy to describe. It's not as simple as wasting time or effort. Distractions are... things that pull you from your orbit without returning value, like a comet disrupting a planet's path around a sun. Too many and you begin to drift away from the tribe, the Creed, the things that make you a Mandalorian. You lose yourself chasing what streaks past you, already gone."

That little speech was probably the most words you'd ever heard Mando say at once, and there was too much there for you to process in your wasted state. You latched on instead to the thing that seemed most personally insulting, given how you'd been spending your time the past few days. "Maker, Mando, do you think that's all I am, a comet? That you'll turn around one day and I'll be gone? Do you think I did-- what I did– what we did– for fun? Do you think that's all you are to me?"

There, you had said it. Or at least implied it. Your cortisol response gave one last death rattle and suddenly you found you could sit up a little straighter, could feel your pulse in your throat. Your feet ached.

There was a long silence. 

Then the Mandalorian sighed, and in that sigh was more defeat than you'd ever heard after a hunt gone wrong. The sound seized you and squeezed your breath as it stuttered in your chest. When he spoke, it was low, tired, and edged with brutal honesty. "No mesh'la. I don't think you're a comet. Not after... today."

And that, somehow, was what did you in: his surrender. The first acknowledgement of what you had endured for him and what you'd done together and what it meant between you. You dropped your face into the filthy duraweave of Mando's shoulder, not caring if you caught the edge of beskar beside it. Something boiled up in you and you weren't sure what it was, only that you snapped your mouth closed hard over a noise like being struck and fisted your hands in his tunic. All the fear you'd put aside came slamming in, the torrential wave presaged by an empty beach. You drove yourself as close as possible to your Mandalorian and shook as though a blaster bolt had found its home in your brain after all.

When you knew where you were again, you found you had shifted - or he had shifted you. You were curled between his legs, your arms still around his neck, your face against where his cheek would be in the cruel parody of a kiss. You froze for a moment, anticipating the helmet to feel hostile against your lips, but it was only Mando, the smooth silver of him that you'd come to know and expect. With sudden resolve you drew back an inch or two, away from the spot where your  mouth left a sliver of fog. Your heart beat in your ears, marching steadily onward toward its inexorable conclusion. You had always known what you needed to do for both your sakes', and now you even thought you knew the bargain that could make it bearable.

"Mando," you whispered. "If that's the way it is, I wouldn't... I would never ask you to go against your Creed. I couldn't."

The warrior under you was so still you feared he might not respond at all. Then he blew out another long breath and put his hands around your waist, impossibly solid against you. It was the second time that night he'd reached for you with gentleness and, leaning against him, you could nearly imagine what it would be like to feel safe again. It would have been so easy to sink into shared delusion. But you owed him something more.

"I couldn't," you said again. "You couldn't. We could never-- it would never be right between us. I don't want that." You were certain you were crying by then, silent tears racing down your cheeks. "But please... I'm not ready yet. I'll leave tomorrow. Please, please... just give me tonight."

The hands on your waist spasmed, gripping you so hard that for one deranged instant you thought he might throw you down on the steel and fuck you all over again. He did the opposite and hauled you painfully upright, stood you in the tight space between his knees and the console. You winced when your abused feet took your weight. His own posture and the set of his shoulders told you absolutely nothing. He was still holding you like a lifeline.

"No," he said. After everything you'd done it was absurd that one word could make you want to crumple to the floor again, but you stayed upright, nails digging into the console for support. "I won't give you just tonight. I know you. You walked into that warehouse for me. You were so afraid for me you couldn't be afraid for yourself. You bled-- you killed-- because you hoped it would buy me time. I know you. Now you're offering– this. I refuse. You're not a Mandalorian, but your courage puts ours to shame. Who would I be if I returned your loyalty so little of my own?"

"Mando, what are you saying?" You were so numb with exhaustion that you weren't sure you had it in you to hope. You tried to keep your gaze steady, but you knew your eyes were wet.

"Stay with me," he said quietly. You did crumple then, your knees turned to water, and only his grip still on you kept you standing. "Stay with me, and let me prove my honor to you."

"Yes," you breathed, and that was all he needed. He hauled you to him, pulling you down, until your chest was pressed to him as he ran his gloves frantically over your neck, your shoulder blades, your hips. You rested your forehead against his, against the blood-warm beskar, and waited. You wanted nothing more than the feeling of his hands on you but you were so tired. "Will... will the tribe understand?"

A pause. He slowed, but did not stop, tracing soothing heat across your body. The blank faceplate tipped up to gaze out at the desert night. "Some will. Some won't. It doesn't matter. How I feel about you can't be against the Creed any more than my helmet. You can't turn a thing against itself." His head was still turned away, looking past the canopy to the starless sky outside. "You aren't a distraction from my Creed, mesh'la, and you never have been. You're part of it. You make me a better... a better Mandalorian."

His hesitation did not go unnoticed. You heard what he didn't say: a better man.

***

The problem with having sex in the cockpit is that when you want - no, need - to lay down afterward there isn't quite room for both of you between the chairs. Also, the floor is that textured, anti-slip steel they use for gantries, which pokes uncomfortably into bare flesh. You end up squashed together, half on top of your Mandalorian, letting his still partially-armored back take the worst of your combined weight as you roll on to your side and throw one leg over him, pillowing your head on his pauldron. It's not ideal, but after the three orgasms he pulled out of you with as much dedication as he'd ever chased down a bounty, you don't really have a choice. Going down the ladder in your current state might actually be the thing that kills you.

Din is still breathing hard from his own climax, sought only after he'd made you so sensitive that he'd had to put a callused palm over your mouth to keep you from shrieking and waking the Child. He'd started, as you thought he would, by pulling off your flimsy shorts and shoving the thick head of his cock into you with no preparation other than telling you to bend over the console and stay quiet. You'd cooperated, knowing that the position put his mouth conveniently close to your ear, and were rewarded with that smooth modulated voice telling you he was going to make sure you never made him use a toy again, never want his cock in anything but you. He told you he was going fuck you so thoroughly you'd beg for him to let you come on his cock. He'd started rough, his pace matching the coarseness of his words, and you'd bitten down your whimpers at the stretch. 

But Din knew you far too well to let you off so lightly. Fast had turned to slow and deep, caging your hips with one forearm while skillful fingers lightly circled your clit, never giving you quite enough pressure to get you where you ached to go. Then you had begged, and he'd almost given in: pulled out of you abruptly, replacing his cock with three fingers after ripping off his gloves. You'd come so hard Din had groaned at the feeling of you clenching around him, your legs trembling uncontrollably, but even that wasn't what you were hoping for and he knew it. He'd coaxed you to a second orgasm by turning you around and crudely shoving his knee between your legs, making you ride the textured cuisse on his thigh. He'd insisted you work for it, rubbing yourself against him and leaving streaks of arousal on the beskar, and that was less satisfying still. Only after you'd gotten yourself off did he ask you what you wanted, and by then you were so needy, so desperately raw and sex-drunk, that all you could do was whine, "You-- please, Din-- you." The sound of his name seemed to shred whatever last bit of composure he had left, and he'd pressed into you harder than ever as your hand dropped to provide the friction you'd needed. You'd come apart with him buried deep, your cunt gripping him like a vise, and he'd followed not long after, your name on his lips as his cock twitched and softened in you.

The nice thing about steel floors, you decide, is that they're easy to clean. You can feel Din dripping out of you and you're pretty sure you're going to leave a wet spot. You’re also pretty sure that the cylinder rolled under one of the consoles and is still jammed there, but that's a problem for later. You pull yourself even closer to him, enjoying his warmth in the shared quiet, watching the strange false light of hyperspace dance outside the canopy.

You don't notice that Din’s turned his helmet to you until he speaks. “Another 26 hours and then we’re off this boat.” He sounds relaxed, pleased both with your current configuration of tangled limbs and the prospect of no longer being confined to the ship. “Felucia is a jungle world. Plenty of frogs for the womp rat to chase.”

You grin. “Or eat. How long are we staying? Are we dropping in somewhere civilized or staying off the radar? And who are we even after? You didn’t show me the puck yet.”

“Off the radar, and this one’s a solo job.” You start to protest, but he stops you. “Really. The contact says he’s holed up in a cave in the middle of nowhere. We’ll set down in the nearest open spot, then it’s half a day overland to the hideout. No point in you coming, nothing for you and the kid to do but get wet and feed the gnats.”

After space travel, a hike doesn’t sound unpleasant, but you know he’s right. There’s no reason to go to the extra trouble of packing supplies for two more when it’s a straightforward retrieval. At least you and the Child will get to explore your landing site. You can do your work outside in the open air, and if all goes well, Din will only be gone a day or two.

“Hey,” you say softly. “You’ll come back, right?” It’s only half a serious question. You trust your Mandalorian. You’ve trusted his competence and drive and ability since the moment you met him, and have learned to trust that his desire to return to you is real. Still, you always ask. It’s a private ritual between you, something soft built over top of hard truths. 

You think of the times he’s left you. To work a job or on a hunt or sometimes just for the cold, hard recesses of his mind where you cannot touch him. Once, although you try not to remember it, for a black and shaking depression that terrified you both. Most of all, you think of that night, on Mos Eisley. The crunch of sand under his boots as he turned away. The glimpse of beskar through the door. The feeling of his hands on your battered ribs. His voice, very tired, I don't make a habit of coming back for distractions.

"Of course I’ll come back, mesh'la." You’ll never not thrill to Din’s electronic baritone calling you beautiful. "How could I do anything else? You're part of my Creed."

***

series masterlist

[hxhhasmysoul]

So do you think Sukuna doesn’t feel alone or do you think he just thinks no one will ever be able to fill that void? I kinda got mixed messages with his whole monologue. It seems he resents people who adore him yet he also says that he answers people’s live in battle. He says that if that’s not what love is then what else could it be? He then says love is trash/worthless. I kinda get the impression he doesn’t think he’s capable of having a connection with someone. What makes it weirder is before the Gojo fight, he remembers Yorozu’s words about teaching him about love. I also suspect this ties into his hatred for Yuji. Sorry for long ask lmao. I just find your perspective interesting.

My take on Sukuna has for a while been that he's full of shit. To some extent. And it's a little hard to have a proper take not knowing his back story. What Gege has given us so far isn't that much so everything I write below is like extremely speculative.

The unwanted child and twins theory

Sukuna was an unwanted child because of what he looked like at birth - the word 忌み子 implies that because it's an old word with these specific connotations. He is probably the conjoined twin which absorbed most of his sibling in the womb but was born with 4 eyes, 4 arms, an extra mouth and the strange bark like skin on his face. Japan has never been good on this kind of stuff. I'm not going to break out my uni books for this but something to check out is the concept of purity and how it influenced philosophy, religion and life in Japan. One of the simplest examples here is that the word kirei (きれい) that many people associate with the meaning "beautiful" has also the meaning "clean" and "pure". The thing that's pure is beautiful. And it does go the creepy way you think, beauty of the unblemished, of the "normal" too. And Sukuna's body would really not be in line with that concept.

Pair it up with the fact that in Japan twins were considered bad luck and he gets abandoned after birth. Not sure why not murdered, killing newborns was also a thing, the whole Jizo cult is related to that, though Jizo specifically, I think is more recent than Heian... don't take it for granted, as I said, I'm not rereading the uni texts.

Maybe his parents weren't able to kill him because of his cursed energy, maybe they were afraid he'd come back as a vengeful spirit.

But despite what a lot of the Gojou girlies scream on social media, Sukuna doesn't whine about it. The way he mentions it makes it seem he doesn't care about it at this point. (Whether he used to care, we don't know yet). And he uses it to dismiss the premise of Kashimo's question. The way I see it, Sukuna says it doesn't matter, he doesn't know his origins so he will never know the answer to this question. He still is the strongest.

He survived without the love of his parents at his weakest. That's probably why he resents the weak because like all dipshits who accomplish something, he thinks: if I could, what is your excuse?

Though we can't say with any certainty that he survived on his own. We don't know whether Kenjaku or Tengen, didn't collect him to experiment on him. We don't know when he met Uraume.

If the theory seeing Sukuna's origins in a the Ryoumen Sukuna urban legend is correct, then it's not unlikely Kenjaku found Sukuna and had fun with him. (Also please keep in mind that while this story is referred to as an urban legend and might be fully or partially made up, the level of violence against people with unusual bodies it includes is kinda on brand for the time period. So like read with that in mind.)

Also it might mean that Sukuna's twin wasn't completely dead yet, wasn't as fully absorbed as his current body would suggest. It's not impossible that Kenjaku removed some of the twin and helped Sukuna achieve a usable body, maybe told him to absorb the twin and their soul to become full, like in the case of Maki and Mai. But maybe Kenjaku still kept some of the twin's body and that soul. In this case Sukuna referring to Yuuji as being from back then could refer to that and feed into the Yuuji was created from Sukuna's twin. Existing partially as a cursed object, and having this strong connection to Sukuna could be what enhances Yuuji's soul powers. And also would make him uniquely predisposed to cage Sukuna.

This also would feed into the theories as to why Sukuna acts the way he does towards Kenjaku. Why he's kinda cold towards them but goes along with their plots. If Kenjaku was indeed the person to take him in when he couldn't really fend for himself, and helped make his body more usable, then there's a huge debt there. And the concept of debt is another huge cultural thing in Japan.

This would also explain why Sukuna is skeptical about love, because Kenajku's parenting is well Kenjaku's parenting. He could've been their prized experiment but so is Yuuji.

While I personally don't love the Yuuji is Sukuna's twin, I don't find it unfounded.

I'm not particularly excited for it coming true because I'd love for Yuuji to be a separate person from Sukuna. Someone who's weak and unrelated to him but who can still cage him.

But with what we know about Maki and Mai, and with the unwanted child thing, Yuuji could be his twin. It would explain why he had no cursed energy, because when Sukuna absorbed and killed him, he would've lost it. If Sukuna absorbed his twin after birth and not before, if they consciously lived together for a while that has implications too.

Full on speculation bordering on fanfiction ahead. It might be why Sukuna chastises Yuuji for wanting to live despite being weak, for clinging to life. If he absorbed his twin post birth, and if he did that consciously, his twin was his first kill. It might have not been easy, not pretty and he might have not done it as cold and detached as he wished to. Or as he now wishes he had been. If Yuuji is his twin there may have been a similar conflict between Sukuna and him, as existed between Mai and Maki. Yuuji being the one more content with their suffering and Sukuna rejecting it, but also Yuuji being his emotional support, the one holding all his misery.

Absorbing his twin would've also likely been his first act of cannibalism. It's honestly a little funny that we haven't seen Sukuna consume anyone so far. But Yuuji has been eating human remains left and right. He now seems to be eating his own skin. It has been speculated that absorbing cursed techniques through eating people is Sukuna's og cursed technique. But if the twins theory is true, it's not entirely impossible that absorbing techniques through cannibalism was his twin's ability.

Sukuna's fanclub

Whatever happened, Sukuna got no love as a kid. If he was Kenjaku's ward then he only got appreciation if he exceeded Kenjaku's expectations.

So either he got this strong because he was rejected and had to survive and had no one to socialise him. Or he was socialised by Kenjaku who always wanted more of him and who also has zero concern for others.

So for him to get appreciation later in life, once he gets power and influence and titles, it must feel hollow. It must feel fake and like trash. It feels like people wanting things from him and offering nothing in return. Because none of them, Yorozu, Gojou, Kashimo, offer him anything he wants. They want to teach him love selfishly, their love is there to fulfill their needs. What his needs may be? None of them care to ask.

If that's what people around him consider love then there's no appeal in it for him. At most they can provide him with some entertainment and Sukuna loves fighting.

He really seems to enjoy battles, he will tease and indulge his opponents as long as it entertains him. He also seems to love cursed energy and jujutsu and he's always analysing what's going on. Little creepy nerd. He also seems to enjoy mentoring but not so much giving therapy XD

Sukuna and Yuuji

Sukuna's issue with Yuuji is all the more interesting because in theory Yuuji should be interesting to him. Yuuji has skills and is an extremely fast learner. He develops much faster than Megumi and reaches surprising understanding of cursed energy and the soul in a very short time.

But Sukuna seems to be annoyed by Yuuji. He pettily bullies Yuuji, disrespects him. Never acknowledges Yuuji's progress. Yuuji's weakness irks him in a very special way. Probably because Yuuji has control over him. But also because he can't break Yuuji, can't get him to cower or adore him. Yuuji doesn't follow any pattern Sukuna expects.

Yuuji also doesn't have the aspirations to become the strongest. Just strong enough. And he wants his strength not as much for himself but for others. Which really separates him from Sukuna's fanclub and most other jujutsu sorcerers.

If the twins theory is true, being with Yuuji also brought Sukuna back. He might vaguely remember what it used to be like to share all his time with someone. Maybe with his twin it was the other way round. Sukuna was in control of the body and the twin mostly lived in the inner domain? Maybe something like this used to be Sukuna's biggest fear?

Also if they were twins, Yuuji caging Sukuna would really affect his sense of self. He had perfected his jujutsu, studied cursed energy and fighting. Only to be held back by the weaker twin he though he'd got rid of.

Of course all this hinges on how much he remembers and how well. Some of the resentment might've been subconscious, of course. He seem to understand who Yuuji is only after he leaves Yuuji's body. Maybe he needed that distance? Maybe he needed to see again where Yuuji ends and he begins to understand who they really are?

Sukuna and Uraume

Having said that, I think Sukuna is perfectly capable of forming relationships with others. He has one with Uraume. They vibe together really well. They are happy to be around one another. Uraume is his servant but Sukuna jokes around with them. He also shows them respect and consideration. It's obvious he knows enough about Uraume to know how they feel and he addresses those feelings directly with praise or reassurance.

Gege said in the fanbook that Sukuna doesn't mind Uraume and likes their cooking skills. Which is probably true and probably how it started. But by now there is some sort of close relationship between them. It may not be romantic or sexual, like Gege seems to believe (as fandom that decision is truly up to us), but there is some kind of love, maybe platonic love of friends.

Because the issue is also quite semantic in nature. What do you define as love. I personally am wary to call the selfish adoration Sukuna's fanclub had for him as love. For me personally love has to go both ways and have an element of mutual mindfulness, it cannot be declared by one side and somehow become binding for the other.

That's why I think Sukuna is kinda full of shit. He might not believe himself capable of forming relationships. Or he might deem that pointless. But he's actually capable of it and he seems to enjoy the one relationship he has. Maybe the key to that acceptance is him believeing that there's nothing more there than Uraume being his servant?

[yes0another0outsiders0blog]

SFW Alphabet: Johnny Cade

Touching on toxic home life in "little ones"

Also, person with a toxic home-life wrote the abused character to have trauma from abuse. Nothing explicit, but it's there.

I proof-read it, but I did it not sober... oops.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Likes physical affection, but prefers small things. Hand-holding or brushing your hair out of your face or similar. Will always ask first, no matter how small the touch is. Expects the same from you. Usually doesn't mind bigger show of physical affection, is pretty neutral to pda (he won't initiated it, but doesn't get embarrassed or upset if you want it), but might say no to it or you'll have to read cues because he'll say yes for you but will be uncomfy with it. But usually it's fine if you ask first.

Verbally, Johnny is quiet, not really showering you in affection there, but when he does say something you know he really means it.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

You'd probably be a friend of a friend that hit it off with Johnny. Someone from the gang knows you well enough to say hi to you at the drive-in or while your out to eat and you come over to hang out for a while, and Johnny happens to be there. You probably wouldn't become friends right away, exactly, but you two keep meeting, either because of the mutual friend or just at random, and you keep talking to him until you two become friends.

After you two get closer and are properly best friends, you become his plus one a lot of the time when the gang is doing something. He tends to kind of hang out in the background in group settings, so you're someone to talk to while everyone else is doing their thing. Also, him sleeping over at your place, board games and watching TV, random walks and windows shopping.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Like I said in affection, ask first and it'll probably be you asking since it's a bigger display of affection. Spooning is most common, he doesn't have a hard preference on big or little spoon but might be more in the mood for one or the other.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

If you can cook, he'd 100% prefer just keeping you company and helping a bit (cutting or stirring things for you). Will do the dishes since you cooked. He isn't great at cooking and doesn't have the biggest desire to learn, but if you aren't a cook then he can throw together a mediocre casserole or something.

Cleaning, though? He's got it. Will split cleaning 50/50 minimum, is fine with doing more. Doesn't like deep-cleaning but will do it, actually kind of likes tidying up/dishes/laundry type of chores because it gives him something to do that feels productive.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Does not want to break up. Is a bit scared of breaking up. Will go to great lengths to communicate issues with you before it gets to that point, and will spend a long time wondering if whatever he's about to break up with you over is really "that bad" or if he can just deal with it. Doesn't want to hurt you at all. Are you going to be angry about it? Is it going to destroy you? Best case scenario, you two are still on good terms. He doesn't expect you to still be friends with him, but he doesn't want any hard feelings between you two.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Takes a long time to trust you as a friend and after you get together there's a second period of trusting you as a partner. However, once he trusts you he's a lot quicker in the relationship.

If yall date through school, he'll probably get married to you really soon after graduation. He already trusts you, he knows he loves you, and he's not into casual dating so the second you two are official he considers you someone he's potentially going to marry someday. No real reason to wait, right?

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

This seems to be a bit better in the fandom now, but I'm conflicted and hesitant to call Johnny gentle because when I was originally into The Outsiders there was this HUGE problem in making fanon!Johnny such an uwu soft boi and a lot of headcanons about him were much more in character for Pony--

But Johnny would be a gentle boyfriend!! I think an important distinction is that for him being gentle is a choice. He is distant and emotionally closed off and jaded, but he puts genuine effort into being a good person. He thinks about right and wrong.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Likes a good hug. Probably won't ask for one or initiate, but if you ask for one he's so down. If y'all have been together for a bit and he knows that you're comfortable with hugs, he'll start asking if you need one before you have to ask for one.

And the hugs are LOOONG. Johnny is super comfortable with prolonged silence, doesn't feel the need to find anything else to do. He'll just quietly hold onto you as long as you need, hours even. Just stroking your hair or back until you're done.

Again, he won't be the one asking, but if you are like "I feel like you need a hug, may I please??" then he probably isn't going to say no. He'll appreciate it. Except on the rare occasion where that sounds Too Much and suffocating, when he will say no, but that's not too often.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Thinks/feels it WAY before he says it. You don't necessarily have to say it first (though that would help a ton), but he does need to be fairly confident that you feel the same way before he says it out loud, and that could be months into an official relationship.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Doesn't really get openly jealous, but Johnny will definitely be disappointed if you got too busy to hang out for too long. Tends to get very "yeah, makes sense, they deserve better so obviously they're distancing themself and talking to other people..." when you're just doing classwork with the person that the teacher assigned you with. Knows his jealousy is ridiculous and will get a bit embarrassed about it, probably won't even mention it because he doesn't want to worry you over it and it's completely a him problem.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Slow, gentle, lingering. Prefers kissing your hand or cheek or forehead. Will occasionally kiss your temple or the top of you head during hugs. As far as kissing goes, he's not big on the mouth ones (they're great an all, he just prefers other kisses).

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Doesn't mind kids at all, but is kind of nervous about them. Doesn't really have any solid reference on how to treat younger children. If he was in charge of any children, he'd probably be too scared to punish them for anything and let them get away with shit because he wouldn't know how to tell what would be a reasonable reaction to what they were doing. It would really put him on edge.

If yall ended up having kids, it would be a LOT of discussions of what you plan to do in EVERY conceivable scenario. He'd be so scared any time he has to take care of them alone for, like, a few years at least (even though everyone knows he isn't going to do a damn thing to those kids, but sometimes when you grow up in a bad environment you think "but what if they push that one button, that I realistically don't even have, that instantly turns me into everything that I've tried so hard to never be??" out of nowhere, and it's really scary... totally not speaking from personal experience... who, me??) and would need pretty frequent reassurance that he's doing great.

As a whole, he sees children as the time when a person has the most potential and most kids aren't made jaded and hardened by the world yet, and that's so incredible and important. Basically, people are born good and become bad through a mix of circumstance and choice (with choice being important, but circumstance being so difficult to overcome if you aren't super intentional about it), and childhood is the most influential time in that, so kids deserve to be protected and given a chance at life.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Johnny will almost always wake up first, dude has this internal clock that will always wake him up 5 minutes before any alarm goes off, and if he's sleeping next to you he probably felt you start to wake up and was forced awake while you were still groggily, semi-consciously in the starting phases of being awake. He'll stay with you until you're properly awake, then he's up to get dressed and ready. Then breakfast. Whether it's cereal, you make breakfast, yall go to a diner, or just get like McDonald's (don't come at me about historical accuracy, I'm only 4 years off, that's basically nothing). It quickly becomes a pretty big part of your mornings because you know you're making damn sure he eats something. Also, even if it isn't an issue for you (but ESPECIALLY if it is) he likes seeing you do basic life maintenance stuff like eating and sleeping and such because it makes him feel good to know that the people he loves are good and fed and taken care of and safe.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Sleepovers at your place every night. In the beginning, he really doesn't like feeling like you're worried about him or that he's a burden for staying over. Will refuse to stay, even if you say it's no big deal. You have to basically make plans for the night and go "well, it's really late and dark out now, so why don't you just stay over??" a lot. Those plans are anything from asking him to help you do some small tedious chore that'll take long enough for you to use that excuse to schoolwork to watching TV or playing some kind of game and "losing track of time." Gradually, he'll relax a bit about staying over and after a while you don't have to plan out how to convince him to stay over.

Then, he's over so often that he honestly just lives at your place, you start acting like he lives there and expecting him to come home and he kind of falls into that when you get really confident about it. What's he going to do, tell you no? Only occasionally staying at the Curtis house if he's there anyway and weather is too bad to walk to yours or something and basically never having to go back to his house or stay in the lot. Games and watching TV together until it's late are still the most common way to spend your evenings, tho.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Information is usually on a need-to-know basis if he starts it. You need to ask a lot of questions and demand that he elaborates on the littlest things. Not necessarily because he's hiding anything from you, he's just quiet and even when he does talk it genuinely doesn't cross his mind that you'd want to hear him talk about himself.

With bigger things, it does take him a long time to open up. He doesn't want you to worry about him, and he doesn't want you to pity him. He appreciates when you ask him if he wants to talk, but he'll say no. Contrary to what a fair few people believe, he isn't weak. Between stubbornness, independence, and a low sense of self worth he'll insist that he can handle any of it. He's not going to let his problems live in your mind.

It's just like every other time when you ask if he wants to talk about it, and you fully expect him to say no like he always does, but one day he's silent for a second before saying "... yeah, I guess I do..." He still isn't going to give you details on anything, home or his mental state or whatever else is specifically bothering him at that moment. But, he trusts you and not wanting you to worry isn't a good excuse to not talk anymore. You'll worry either way, probably more if he doesn't talk to you. It gets to a point where he'll be open with you because he feels you deserve a partner that can be honest and open with you.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Very few things get him properly angry. He's more likely to get really distant and depressed when faced with anything upsetting. Will get angry when bad things happen to anyone he loves, doesn't get angry for himself and usually doesn't have the spare energy to be angry for people that he doesn't know.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Remembers a lot, but not every passing comment you make. If given a test on everything you've said about yourself, he'd get around an 85%. Remembers everything important (any allergies, birthday, etc.) and enough that he doesn't have to guess with gifts (favorite foods and snacks, knows pretty well if you'd like something or not just based on knowing you, etc.), some fun facts stick with him more than others.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Any time when you two sneak away when hanging out with the entire gang. Johnny likes having an intimate moment between the two of you, but he also likes knowing that you get along with the people that he'd actually consider to be family. Slipping out of the Curtis home to make out for a bit in the lot while everyone else is distracted with something else is, like, the perfect mix of these two things.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Protective, but careful not to cross any boundaries. If anything immediate/physical/serious happens he'll jump in to protect you instantly and without hesitation. Otherwise, he'll just stand close by, fully ready for any sign that you want him to step in. Both instinctively protective and the type to constantly think of the best way to help you, depending on the urgency of the situation. Johnny would probably do nothing the first time (again, in a non-serious situation), but instantly ask how he can best react if anything like that happens again. You want him to instantly take you away from the situation? Got it!! You can take care of yourself, but want someone to talk to after? Absolutely!! Case by case? Let's think of some cues so he'll know what to do when you need it. Whatever he can do that will make you feel best. He isn't going to assume that he's helping just because his intentions are good, he wants to know what works for you.

As for protecting him, just being a safe person and being someone that he can always go to is enough. Having someone that he can trust, someone that will be there for him. Reassuring him, telling him how much he's worth, etc.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Feels like he'll never deserve you and you are far to good for him, so he is CONSTANTLY trying to be the very best for you. Mostly with everyday tasks, he will do so much. Chores are done before you even get a chance to consider them, if anything needs fixed he's either figuring it out (results may vary) or finding someone who knows what they're doing and asking them for help with it. Dates, gifts, etc. are always super thoughtful, but he's probably the one with the least amount of spending money and one of the greasers that doesn't steal often if ever (necessities if anything), so it's all very low cost. He's not as good with his words as Pony is, but you're still getting a fair amount of handwritten letters. Lots of dates at libraries and parks. Any free third space type of place. Will absolutely save up for months and take on any odd jobs he can find to get you a "real" gift for anniversaries. (Free gifts ARE real gifts, tho)

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

A tendency to distance himself both when things are bad (doesn't want to worry anyone by being mentally and/or physically not okay around them) and when things are good (doesn't feel he deserves good things, so he has trouble accepting them).

Self-worth in the negatives and not really seeing any solid reason to live means he tends to say really terrible things about himself, is genuinely surprised when people disagree or are uncomfortable with his negative self-talk.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Probably the least of the whole gang. Doesn't think about his looks all that much. There are things that he likes and dislikes about himself, but for the most part he's just kind of there. The type that, when anyone makes a comment on his looks either negative or positive, says "uhh.. yeah... that's just how I look..? idk what to tell you???"

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yeah? Just because he feels he owes you so much. You're (paritally, not minimizing the gang here) the one making him see his worth, you're giving him somewhere to stay and someone to fully trust, you are part of the reason (not saying that a relationship can fix mental illness, but a support system can sure help and a partner is a part of that) that he finds an actual active will to live. He doesn't really believe in soulmates or that you complete him just by existing, but you've done so much for him whether intentionally or not and he doesn't know where he'd be without you, so while he isn't sure if you really "complete" him he is sure that you helped him get to a healthy place in a way that he couldn't do without you.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Bit of an animal person. Very circle of life, that's the way things go mentality so he can leave animals be without being too sad about it since he really doesn't have a place to keep them and they're ultimately "just animals", but when he has his own place then he might occasionally take in random animals if he finds them and is in the position to take them. Realistic about it, if he can't he can't. It won't hurt him that a random stray he saw didn't make it, but if he has the space and can spare the funds to take care of it then he might as well, right?

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Excuses. Blaming your actions on something else to try to get out of consequences. Johnny will consider some pretty shitty things to be none of his business (it's how he's friends with Dally) as long as the person doing them isn't excusing those actions. There's a big difference between explaining your view of the issue and making excuses. The second you try to justify bad actions by trying to get into some Trauma Olympics, he's not respecting a word you say. It happens once, it's an ugly accident that came out of being emotional. It's a habit, you're not a person he wants to associate with.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Insomniac. It fades in and out, sometimes he'll go a while getting decent sleep and other times he'll only get light sleep in 20 minute intervals for weeks. Doesn't even have to do with stress, as far as he can tell. He can be doing comparably pretty alright and suddenly he just can't sleep no matter where he goes or what he does to try to make himself tired enough to pass out. Has tried to talk to the gang about it, but he's the only one with chronic insomnia. Others can relate on a surface level due to acute insomnia triggered by stress, but they couldn't give him any good advice for his issue.(Their advice was trash, actual garbage, btw. Pony suggested drugs, Two's solution was an ungodly amount of alcohol, Darry basically told him that it was probably stress, and Dal was like "why the fuck are you asking me for advice, man, idk????")

[astra-galaxie]

★☆☠■☮♦ൠ ▼ for Elliot Clayton? (sorry for the slight spam lmao)

No worries! I don’t mind receiving multiple requests. Sorry it took so long to get these headcanons done; I’ve been swamped in real life!

So please enjoy my Elliot headcanons!

★ - sad headcanon

Elliot was a lonely child. His parents were always busy with their work, and he didn’t have any friends who wanted to hang out outside school. He spent a lot of time in his room playing video games or watching movies. Eventually, his interests turned to computers, and he taught himself how to program, leading to him becoming a hacker. He would spend hours in his room on his computer, lurking on the dark web and hacking servers no one, least of all a young teenager, should be.

☆ - happy headcanon

When Elliot joined the Bureau, he didn’t know what to expect. He didn’t want to work for the agency, but given his illegal hacking, it was either help them or go to jail… When he arrived on his first day, he was surprised to see a “Welcome to the Team!” party had been put together for him. He met everyone in the Bureau, and some asked things about him to break the ice. Elliot just thought they were being polite to the new kid (kid being literal), so he was shocked when he got to his office on the second day and found a value-sized bag of W&W's waiting on his desk. To this day, he still doesn't know who left them or the others he gets periodically throughout his time with the Bureau…

☠ - angry/violent headcanon

Like many teenagers going through the joys of puberty, Elliot’s been known to have a short temper. And while he doesn’t get physically violent, he can yell and curse till your ears are ringing! However, while he might not attack you with his fists, your technology is never safe. He’s developed several programs that he can unleash on someone’s tech if they piss him off. They range from being more annoying than harmless, like taking control of your cursor and making it go the opposite direction of where you want it to, to bigger ones that lock you out of your devices until Elliot releases them.

■ - Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon

I picture Elliot having a messy room. Like clothes thrown around the room, so much that you can't tell what's clean and what's not. Maybe even some empty cans of energy drinks and food wrappers, but those are not as bad as the other stuff. He would also hang posters for bands, movies, and games on the walls and some memorabilia like figurines or replica items around the room.

However, when it comes to his workspace, his desk and equipment are very clean and organized.

☮ - friendship headcanon

Elliot is awkward when it comes to making new friends. He didn’t have many when he was growing up, so he struggled to form friendships. But when he does make a new friend, he tries his hardest to keep them. And while he’s prone to losing track of time and forgetting about met-ups, those who know him understand that he’s not doing it to be an asshole. They still value his friendship, and that means so much to Elliot to know that they love and appreciate him as their friend despite his flaws.

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon

Elliot knows how to play the guitar. As a child, he was put into piano lessons, but he found it boring to play. But he still enjoyed making music, so when he was older, he switched to guitar. He first learned the acoustic guitar and later taught himself how to play electric. When Lars found out the teen could play, he BEGGED Elliot for a jam session. After eventually giving in to the begging, Elliot had to admit it was fun rocking out with someone as passionate about music as Lars is.

ൠ - random headcanon

He kept in contact with Benjamin Scott. The two became friends after Benjamin returned to England, and they share an online chat room. While Elliot can't tell Benjamin everything about his work, he likes having someone to talk to who understands what his job is. Of course, Benjamin sometimes presses Elliot for details, but he never forces the goth to disclose anything confidential. He also keeps Elliot up to date on things in England and the rest of the world since the Bureau is sometimes too wrapped up in their investigations to check the news.

▼ - childhood headcanon

Elliot’s first video game was The Sims. His nanny had gotten it for him since she heard it was popular and wasn’t violent. He played it over and over and over, designing characters and houses to be precisely what he wanted. He spent so much time playing the game that he spent more time cleaning his digital house than his IRL bedroom. This led to his video game obsession growing and his collection expanding so that he always had something to play. But games like The Sims will always be one of his favourites.

And thus concludes my headcanons for Lord Gothness himself!

P.S. I’ve got a few more requests in my inbox to finish, so hopefully, I can get those posted soon!

[suckerforthisshit]

Someone was doing headcanons for Mello and Near, so let me do it as well... I'll first start with Mello

Mello:

Is 22 years old, alive.

Had meny periods in his life, the wildest phase was one from his 15th to 18th year.

Is bisexual, dominant, leaning towards woman. A womenaser. (-gasp-) And a fuck boy too...

As for boys he has specific requirements.

An absolute sex god. He is literal pharaoh in bed.

In Wammy's, he was the child who come in Wammy's youngest, in his seventh year. And he was on first place all until Near appeared in his tenth (it was twelfth Mello's)

He left Wammy's in the age of fifteen and joined mafia. This only worked because he had a lot of money and great advertisement as a genius boy.

On that time he lived a completely wild and fast life, going out in clubs, having a lot of sex

He is an absolute seducer and heartbreaker. Incredibly beautiful young man with charisma and attitude, makes girls and boys go crazy over him as he gives a sense of danger

German nationality. (Keehl is German last name)

Enjoys passion, challenge, mind games, loves to steal already taken people, gets in troubles

Doesn't drink because he is already completely out of control and under alcohol he made big troubles so he stopped

Asshole

Extremely low emotional intelligence and introspection. Can't control his emotions and often chooses to ignore some obvious things because they are way to painful for him to accept

Is very picky when it comes to food

Likes everything expensive, luxury

Very clean, takes care of his physical look a lot

Completely obsessed with Near.

After he joined mafia he was completely wild. His first calm down come when he get scar as his life was dangerously endangered.

After kira case got in a serious depression because he didn't know which path should he go. He knew that as his plan didn't go as he intended it to go, he didn't win against Near, but he didn't lose as well. Realized that now he has no choice but to choose wether to keep up his dream to defeat Near or leave him be as he feels that he is going to keep "following" Near his entire life and that Near is using this situation. He is completely horrified by that

That type of person to go on day in library and on night in strip club

Loves entertainment, loves to tease

Sees himself as a serious person

Had a older sister and baby brother. His parents and grandpa along with siblings died in car accident. Mello survived as he was playing around in trunk

Chocolate has a symbolic meaning to him as it was favorite chocolate of his grandpa. It is the last reminder of his family

Hates change so much that couldn't get off little boy hair cut only because it remind him of past. Very nostalgic. Changed haircut by time into something more of a mullet then bob

Unpredictable and complex. Very interesting and charming. Even if he does some offensive bullshit, you'll forgive him because it is hard to dislike him

Has special connection with Renaissance art.

Believes in god but is in Cristian stuff more because of vibe then actual belief. Is actually protestant

Likes everything that is considered as profound, from literature to art, but not because of expressive taste but because of the label

Actually likes hard rock and heavy metal

Very contradicting, often doesn't know what he wants

Listens to his instincts way more then he should

Pretty much narcissistic, but he actually cares very deeply about people

People fall for him easily. He loves to see how wanted he is.

Has a 'click' and when it's about things that he cares about, could easily go completely insane and destructive on every possible way. People fear him then

Treats as a way of flirting

Eats very bitter chocolate and HATES every other kind of chocolate. He thinks that only pure dark chocolate is real chocolate

Extremely good at dancing

Has a TON of knowledge about everything

Is a heavy nerd

I have A LOT MORE about Mello, I might make part two later on...

[lyrenminth]

time apart

Warning: explicit descriptions, piv, oral (fem receiving), Justin being corny.

Sorry for the format, it is weird but I hope you can read it.

You always received Justin with a kiss and a hug as soon as he entered the door, it was a tradition you decided to adopt when you got together. You knew he liked it since he always leaned on to kiss you and touch your ass. "How was your day, baby?" you asked. "Good" he said, smiling. When the days were "not so good" you would hugged him tighter, he would hide his face on your neck and lift you a little bit from the floor. "It's better now" But this was the first time you're going to be apart in a long period of time, since your sister gave birth recently and you decided to help her for the first two weeks, since it was a difficult childbirth for her. At the beginning Justin was hesitating. "No one else can help her?" he asked not hiding his worry. You were having pasta with shrimp for that dinner night. "No, my mom isn't in condition for traveling" "She can hire someone. I'll pay for it if necessary."

You sighed. It was the first time Justin behaved like this, but he was nervous. Since you came into his life to change everything, he couldn't keep worrying about you. He wasn't overprotective, but you were the most important person in his life right now. It wasn't the end of the world. True, but he almost never saw you in person. "It will be a couple of weeks baby" you said, kissing his forehead. "My sister needs a familiar face to talk to. And I'm dreading to see my niece" "Okay" he relented. "You'll be working anyway. I'll call you during dinner each day. Don't worry" "Will you watch my games?" "Always, honey" When both finished eating, Justin put the dishes in the dishwasher while you cleaned the table. When a pair of strong arms hugged you from behind, you gasped. Justin kissed your neck. "Can I show you how much I'm gonna miss you?" he asked, biting your earlobe. Words weren't necessary. Justin, indeed, missed you. When he opened the door and no one was there to receive him he felt bad, lonely. Dinners without you felt boring and the food never tasted the same for some reason. The house was quiet, without your laughter or your weird playlists or you dancing around and arguing with yourself. You had a spot in his life now, your absence was notorious. And he never felt like this before. It was scary for him sometimes to like you this much. To care this much about you.

The only moment he looked forward to was when you called him during bedtime. The pictures and text were fine, but seeing your face and expression was better. You talked about each others days, how was your sister, your niece who was the most chunky and smiley baby he has ever seen. "You would be a great mother" he said in the call when you send him pictures of you holding the baby. "Do you think so?" you asked, wiggling your eyebrows. He grinned. "One-hundred percent" "Our babies would be athletic thanks to you" you said. "And would have her mother's brain" he added. "Oh, come on you're smart too" "Not like you" "Yeah, sure" you deflected the compliment. He rolled his eyes, you always did that when he says something good about you. Sadly, you weren't good taking compliments. "I'm waiting for your comeback" he confessed three days before you arrived to LA. "Aw, are you missing me?" "Yeah, kinda" You snorted. "Kinda? I'm going to stay longer then" "No, I mean... it's your sister but yeah, the house doesn't feel the same if you aren't here" And I don't like to sleep alone. He didn't looked at you when he said this. You knew how hard was to him express his emotions. Again, it scared him how much he cared about you. Finally, after spending time with your sister. Watching Justin win two games and meeting your lovely niece, you were home. He was in practice, so you took your time to take a shower, unpack your stuff and make a snack. You told him you'll be arriving late to surprise him, and as soon as you hear the car in the garage you wait for him at the door, excited to see him.

When Justin opened the door you jumped on him, he looked surprised but held you tight as you wrapped your legs around his waist, kissing him in the process. "Welcome home, baby" you said cheerfully. He stared at your face, in disbelief. "You told me..." he stopped middle sentence to kiss you, hard. His lips devoured yours, his big hands squeezing your ass. He started walking towards the stairs. "Justin be careful" you said giggling. When you arrived to your room he dropped you on the bed, and crawled over you. "I missed you" he whispered, licking your neck. His hands were everywhere, you enjoyed his desperation. "You smell so good" he said, digging his nose in the valley of your breasts. You sat down to take off your shirt, you weren't wearing bra so he quickly focused on your boobs, kissing one nipple while massaging the other breast. It felt so good to be in his arms again. You felt safe and protected, Justin always gave you calmness and security, things you needed. You started rocking your hips against his, trying to find a good spot to stimulate your clit or to relieve the pain and necessity in your core. You grabbed his hair, playing with it, moaning soft words if affirmation that you knew he liked to hear. The trails of kisses went south, Justin stopped in the waistband of your shorts. "Raise your hips" your obeyed, he took them off along with your panties. As the good man he was, Justin trace your folds with his thumb, then opened your lips to show your clit and glistening pussy. "Mmmm" you moaned moving your hips, dying for a touch. "How much I've miss this" he stated, eyes full of lust stared at you. "Show me then" you prompted. He leaned on, his tongue licking all over. It felt so good that you cried a little bit. Because you've miss him too. He proceeded to swirl his tongue over your clit, soft strokes that made your legs and belly tingle. "Baby, yes" you moaned, touching your own breasts, rocking your hips lost in the pleasure. He groaned, seeing you like this made him so hard it was unbearable, but he wanted to hear the moans coming up from those pretty lips. He put a finger inside your pussy, trying to stimulate your g-spot, when you started struggling to get away he knew you were close, he pinned your hips down with the other arm. "Justin..." you cried as the orgasm crashed inside you like a wave. You went limp for a few seconds, trying to recover your breath. "Oh my good" you said, he kissed your one last time before standing on to take off his clothes. Until then, you didn't realize he was fully clothed. You enjoyed the view as he took his underwear, and stood naked in all his glory. Justin was built like a demi-god, tall, slim but well-defined muscles everywhere. His erection stood proud, the pink tip glistening with precum, you started getting horny again. Without shame, you opened your legs so he could have a better view. "Fuck" he growled, in one movement he was on top of you, kissing you fiercely. You needed more. You reach down between your pelvis only to grab his penis and gave him a few pumps before guiding him to your entrance. "Fuck me, Justin, please" he bite your bottom lip and you let out a hiss. Finally, he slipped inside you, inch by inch. Making you feel full again, you clenched your walls around his shaft. You put your arms around his neck. "Baby..." he whispered, stopping once he was inside you. "I'm sorry if I can't give you what you want" he was clenching his jaw. "God, it feels so good" he thrusted one time, and shifted the angle and started moving once again. Those deep thrusts were building heat in your core. He hid his face in the curve of your neck, as he always did. "Yes, oh, Justin" you were running your hands through his back, feeling the muscles tense and relax in each thrust. He whimpered close to you ear somehow making you wetter. The sound each thrust was obscene. "Come for me baby" you said, straddling his hips with your legs.

"Fuck" he groaned. "Cum inside me" you begged, clenching around his shaft, one of his hands squeezed your waist to stop you. Justin got tense, groaned and you felt him throbbing inside you. He rolled over and sighed. One strong arm searched for you, to keep your closer. "You really miss me" you said, playfully. "Mmmm" you drew on his chest with your finger. He was getting sleepy. "Yes" "I miss you too" you declared, he opened one eye, and smiled. "I realized many things when you were out" he confessed, that sparked your curiosity. "Like what?" That I want to marry you, I want to have you around and talk to you every chance I get. That no matter what happens, I want to be by your side, hold you like this each day and night. Justin was never good with deep words, but his actions spoke volumes when he was with you. You understood he wasn't going to tell you love words, but he would search for you in a crowd. "I like you more than I'm able to tell" he stated under his breath, you almost didn't hear it. He flushed, and you giggled at his reaction. "Good to know" you hugged him tight.

All the love you didn't expect was lying next to you.

[darkphoenix07]

hii ive never requested before so this is kinda scary tbh .... im not sure if your mental health requests are still open but if they are, can i request one with either hongjoong or jongho that's up to u! (since i noticed u already had alot with hongjoong already ..) where reader has an eating disorder because of insecurities and is trying to recover but some days fall back into old habits. And how he would comfort you and help you back on track

thank you so much for this btw <3 I've read all of your mental health series since i myself am struggling alot with my mental health and I'm sure it means alot to other people too who also struggle, you're doing sm people a favor 💓

Jongho helps you with eating disorder

Masterlist

Mental Health Request

Paring : Idol Jongho x Reader

Word count : 1.6k

Song 🎵 : Those eyes by New West

Genre : Soft, Comfort, Fluff

4:45 p.m.

Everyone in the agency treats you very well after you got attached with Jongho. Specially when you are the girlfriend of their life maknae. They adore you like a little sister too and you love them with all of their heart which is why going to meet them is your favorite part of the day. Specially when you are feeling down.

As you walk inside the agency you meet with San, "Y/n, wassup," he immediately pulls you for a hug.

When he releases the hug, his eyes get big, "Damn, you look pale. Are you feeling alright?"

"Yes, it's just. Maybe I am tired," you didn't even know when was the last time you ate something. But that is good, right? You have become so fat nowadays. Isn't that why you can't move properly? You feel suffocated and confined around your body. Only skipping food can make it alright.

"I'm going to buy some ice creams. Coming back in a few minutes," he winks before passing away.

You enter in the elevator and reach inside the practice room where you see them sitting on the floor, giggling with one another. You automatically smile seeing Jongho's gummy smile as Mingi gets scared when Jongho tried to hit him.

Suddenly Jongho notices you and stands up, "Y/n, you are here!"

He immediately pulls you into an embrace soaking your empty heart, maybe your empty stomach too.

"You don't look so good. What's up? Are you not taking meals properly?" Jongho asks you and in reply you only smile.

"Yes, you look like you have lost a lot of pounds. What's wrong?"

You feel uncomfortable hearing Wooyoung through these words at you. Because all you think about is how ugly you look. How bad your fat is making things for you.

"I-I am fine. I just wanted to meet you. I was thinking about you a lot," you tell Jongho with another smile but it doesn't convince him much.

"I'll take you to your favorite restaurant today. But first let's have ice cream after hyung brings them," he smiles at you pulling you inside.

You sit with them, keep listening to their bickerings and after sometimes San arrives with a box of ice creams.

You and Jongho share one big bucket which is butterscotch, your favorite one. But when you start to have the ice cream, you mind starts speaking to you calling you ugly shit, a pig and how you shouldn't eat like this.

"You are barely having these. Are you alright?" Jongho asks you and you nod.

"Maybe it's my period, I've lost appetite," you lie to him gripping your own shirt. You feel guilty for being this person but you can't help it.

"I-I am coming," you get up and run to the bathroom. You end up throwing up water and ice cream because that's all you've left inside your stomach. Your stomach hurts and your throat burns from the crazy sensation and how it is so hard to eat.

You leave the bathroom and see them cleaning up stuff for practicing.

"I'll have another lesson then we can go together. Can you wait?" Jongho asks you and you nod.

"That's my girl," he kisses you on the forehead smiling and goes back for the practice.

As you sit down to watch them practice, you start feeling drowsy and nauseous.

Jongho looks back at you asking if you are okay and you try to give him a reassuring smile that you are.

But it only gets worse when you get up wanting to leave the room. You grab the nob and try to open the door but suddenly everything feels hazy to your eyes. You stop feeling the ground underneath you and fall into deep sleep.

Hearing the deep thud from you passing out, Jongho comes running, "Y/n. Oh my God. Baby! What's wrong? Wake up. Come on, wake up!!"

The members look at each other hearing Jongho calling you baby which he never does.

"She will be fine. Let's call an ambulance," Hongjong says patting Jongho's back.

"Splash water on her face. She may wake up," Seonghwa suggests and Yunho brings a bottle full of water.

Jongho splashes the water on you but you don't open your eyes as the problem is something else.

"Why isn't she waking up? Oh man. This is so bad," Jongho is trembling as your head is on his lap. Your body has gone cold and you are barely breathing which starts concerning Jongho more.

The ambulance comes and he takes you in the hospital where Yeosang joins him.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

As you wake up, you feel someone holding your hand sobbing.

"I am so sorry I didn't notice earlier. I am so fucking sorry," it's Jongho's voice you realize as you open your eyes.

"Oh my God. You are awake!!!" He hugs you tightly pressing himself against you.

You feel a saline pipe on the back of your hand when you hug him back. You look around and realize that you are in a hospital bed.

"What happened?" You ask him and he looks at you with blazing eyes.

"When was the last time you had a proper meal?" He throws the question at you with a demanding voice and you can't help but feel scared.

"I won't scold you, sweetheart. Please do tell me. When did you last have a proper meal?" He asks you so softly that your heart burns.

"I-I...maybe with you," you tell him which was four days ago.

"Seriously?" He looks like he snaps but he is mad at himself for not being able to take care of you.

Your scared face tells him you misunderstood him so he gets on the bed with you, "I am concerned about you because you have iron deficiency, lack of vitamin D, Vitamin C, Vitamin B complex. In total if I say, you are going through malnutrition. How do you think I'll feel if I get to know these?"

"I am sorry. I didn't m-" you break into tears but he cups your face into his palms.

"Hey, don't cry. I didn't want to make you cry. I am mad at myself for not being able to give you enough time to take care of you. If you were having a hard time to have food, you should have told me. I didn't even notice," he says like it is all his fault that you avoid food.

"Don't blame yourself for something I've been doing," you tell him holding his hands into yours.

"Baby, you have become my responsibility from the day I've started to have feelings for you. You are not only a part of my life. You have become my life. I can't think of a single day without you though I don't tell you these enough. But I am willing to tell you everything you need to hear for recovering as early as possible," he kisses your forehead and a drop of his tear fall on your cheek.

"All your sufferings are mine, all your pain is mine, all of your agony is mine. Don't you know that already. Why don't you eat sweetheart? Why? You used to love having food once," he asks you whispering the last words like if anyone is beside him they will know your secret or maybe it is his heart burning for you seeing you like this.

"I don't know. I feel like food is the reason everything is going wrong in my life. I need to fix everything. I feel hopeless, wrecked.The more I lose my weight, I feel like I need to lose more. I throw up everything I eat unintentionally. I feel so fucking disgusting when I eat something. It becomes hard for me to look in the mirror once I devour something," you tell him the truth but end up becoming a sobbing mess.

"Hey, we can work on it together. What if I was in your place? Wouldn't you do the same for me? Wouldn't you want to help me?" He asks and you nod.

"Then listen that I'll always be there for you no matter what. I'll help you gain confidence again. Please don't hide all these from me again?" He begs you kissing your knuckles and you smile.

After you get discharged, you start meeting a therapist with him. He has gone crazy over you nowadays because he keeps telling you how pretty you look, how perfect you are. He shows you mukbang day after day making your mouth water which is why you start to have food again. You take some suppliments to gain your appetite again which works very well.

Last time you checked, you have gained some pounds finally after hardworking. Specially with Jongho's support.

Most importantly he never reminds you of your food disorder. He makes you forget about you playing stupid food games and taking you to every new restaurants in the city making you taste new foods.

You thank yourself and him for coming this far after months torture on yourself. Because without him you wouldn't be able to beat this.

I myself wrote it with empty stomach but now I'm feeling fucking hungry

[justagamerandaweeb]

Welp, I guess I'm doing this.

Hi, my names justagamerandaweeb, or TheWritingWeeb, or King, or whatever the fuck you wanna call me, it doesn't matter, and welcome to my blog. It's clearly nothing special, as you can see, but it's whatever honestly.

My birthday is January 21st, I'm 18, and I'm just a guy trying to get through this Tumblr bullshit.

About me:

All you need to know about me is that I'm antisocial, both IRL, and on the internet. I don't really talk to people that I know IRL as I don't think they're interested in me. That, and I'm to scared to talk to anyone, period.

And as for online, I think it's a waste of time (If you make random arguments that you are entitled to on the internet against people you've have never seen before in real life, you are a fucking loser that has nothing better to do with your life).

I consider myself as talentless. Outside of this writing shit (4 years into the game), I have no talents at all. I mean, I have a guitar, I can only play a few notes, but outside of that, I don't amount to anything in the real world, hence why I'm here (and you could say the same right? Unless you got a job or a career that means something).

I mostly write for entertainment, not to make friends, but lets see if you guys can change that (if you even take the time to acknowledge me).

What I like:

Friends, food, video games, music, YouTube, writing, having fun when I have the opportunity, and I think that's about it.

What I don't like:

People who treat their loved ones like shit, jealousy, hate, fear, the pain of loss, losing someone or something you love, people who push their friends and family under the bus to reach some sort of status, and that's about it as well.

Rules:

Do not insult me, do not come after me for whatever reason I did, do not come after my friend(s), and do not request me to do grotesque things if I don't feel comfortable writing about it.

What I can do:

If and when I have the gumption to open my requests, here are the things I can write:

Vanilla, BDSM, Threesome (MMF, FFM, MMM, FFF), AU's, pegging, maybe HC's, SFW content, maybe a little bit of dead dove: do not eat (only gore though), and maybe some other stuff I can't name.

What I won't do:

The content that I will not contain the following: Lolicon, Shotacon, futanari, scat, watersports/Golden Shower, rape, necrophilia, zoophilia, anal and vaginal stuffing (putting random objects in the female genitalia and anus), bug play, urethral insertion, earfucking, and anything that I am dissatisfied writing.

Masterlist of characters:

Yoriichi Tsugikuni:

Mating Season

Michikatsu Tsugikuni/Kokushibo:

Warmth (Revamped)

Kyojuro Rengoku:

True love

Bonded Together Forever

Comfort Through Pleasure

A Message

Bromance

Senjuro Rengoku:

TLC (Tender, Loving Care)

Tengen Uzui:

A Message

"Fluffy Bunny..."

Tanjiro Kamado:

A New Experience

A new Experience (Revamped)

My Blossom...

Loss.

Giyuu Tomioka:

Sun-Kissed

Drunk Sex

Tiredness.

Iguro Obanai:

Sun-Kissed

Sanemi Shinazugawa:

Drunk Sex

Gentle

Akaza:

Filling

Bromace

Mitsuri Kanroji:

Different

Experiment

Kocho Shinobu:

Experiment

Muzan Kibutsuji:

Candle

Deflowered (Revamped) "Mine."

Lady Tamayo:

Worth

Sweet

Douma (I'm not making his name a rainbow):

Somnophilia

Filling

Enmu:

Somnophilia

Kaigaku:

I'm in Control

Gyutaro:

True Beauty

Peer Pressure

Aizetsu:

Hikikomori

Curiosity

Sekido:

Confliction

Miscellaneous:

Goku vs. Akaza

Wake up.

Redemption.

Spider-Man 2 pics

Ghost of Tsushima Pics

Nathan.

Brotherhood.

Love and Family.

Samuel.

Second Son.

Clean House.

Season 4:

EP 1

EP 2

Well, that's all there is to it. See you, I guess.