#i NEED to meet someone who does drag i need someone to put me in drag makeup bc i dont know how to do it myself

[notjustjavierpena]

just thinking about taking a late night bath with hubby when the kids are asleep. just intimate moments and quiet chats about nothing in particular. that man has rotted my brain

R&R

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Here you go, nonnie ❤️ Gave you smut too, whops

Summary: You return from an emergency at work to Javier who wants to spoil you.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: Domestic bliss, fluff, alcohol consumption, body insecurities, javi loves and worships his wife, kisses, rough passionate sex, dirty talk, light choking, multiple orgasms, siggy wrote doggy (an achievement), creampie, explicit description of come, hint at a breeding kink

Word count: 4.5k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59136853

R&R

You fall back against the door with a huff after entering your house late at night, sighing deeply while dragging your hands down over your face in exasperation. There’s the familiar prickling feeling in your nose as your body threatens to let tears fall from your eyes but you swallow thickly and try to focus on the comfort of being home. You hadn’t wanted to go into the office at this time of day but it had been an emergency meeting that meant you couldn’t be there for Lucas’ bedtime. 

As you undo your jacket, shrugging it off your shoulders, Javier enters the hallway. He is the only person you want to see right now, his mere presence easing your mind and body. 

“Where was the fire?” He asks, taking your jacket from your hands and hanging it up for you. 

“A project had fallen through today without the boss telling us,” you groan, not even thinking - like always, switching to autopilot - when you push yourself off the door to walk into Javier’s arms when he opens them for you. You mumble tiredly into his shoulder, “It’s going to delay my team’s progress for the next three weeks.”

“Your boss is a fucking idiot,” Javier thinks out loud. 

“I actually agree,” you laugh softly into his skin, and he turns his head to peck your cheek. There’s something so satisfying and sweet about coming home to someone who is your unwavering supporter, letting you vent about the messes that you reluctantly get involved in. 

However, it’s not what you want to talk about right now. Instead, there’s only one thing on your mind, “Is Lucas asleep? Was he a challenge without me here?”

Javier pulls back to look at you with an amused expression, “Luke’s fine, mi amor (my love). He’s been sleeping since 7:30.” 

You chew your bottom lip at hearing that he didn’t fuss about you not being there to put him to bed and kiss him goodnight. There’s a pang of frustration at not being needed, and your husband seems to notice it quickly. He continues, “But he did miss his mamá. He asked for you and I told him you’d come upstairs to say goodnight when you got home.”

You smile with slight relief, spurred on to finish taking off your outerwear and therefore going for your shoes so you can head upstairs to kiss your son on the forehead, “Really?”

“Sí, sin duda (yes, no doubt),” Javier tells you, sinking to his knees to help you remove your boots. He pats the leg that he wants you to lift, “And I thought of something.”

“Hm?” You hum, enjoying the warmth of his hand on your calf. 

“How about I open up a good bottle of wine and run you a bath?” He sweetly suggests, looking up at you from the floor in a way that makes your head spin. 

“Will my considerate husband join me?” You purr and run your fingers over his hair as you tower above him. 

He tilts his head back as you push his hair back and there’s almost a submissive glint in his eyes but then he slowly rises to his feet again, his hand skimming up the back of your leg as he does. He purrs right back at you, his lips close to yours and making you realize you haven’t kissed him in greeting, “If that makes my wife happy.”

“Very happy,” you press a lingering kiss to his lips which he gladly returns, making the feeling of the stress of tonight start to fade into the background already. 

“Go say goodnight to our son and I’ll get everything ready,” he whispers as he only pulls back an inch. 

You smile as you feel him hold onto you until his hand is forced to fall to his side, then feel him watching you ascend the stairs to the bedrooms upstairs. He looks at you until you have left his line of view, then heads to the kitchen.

You can hear him take wine glasses out of the kitchen cabinet as you open the door to Lucas’ room gently so it doesn’t creak. You find your son sleeping on his side in the soft glow of his nightlight, facing the door with his blanket still tucked around his torso.

You tiptoe over to his bed, watching the way his mouth hangs open as he snores ever so slightly before crouching down to kiss his forehead. Lucas stirs slightly, his eyes fluttering open just a crack.

“Mamá?” He mumbles in a sleepy whisper.

“I’m here, mijo (my son),” you whisper back, brushing a strand of hair away from his face so you can kiss him there a few times more, “I just wanted to say goodnight.”

“I miss you,” his tiny voice melts your heart, his language still not grammatically advanced yet. 

“I missed you too, baby,” you smile softly, “Go back to sleep, okay? I’ll be here tomorrow. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Mamá,” he is already drifting off, eyes blinking slowly as he struggles to stay awake. You run your hand over his hair one last time before leaving the room, closing the door with a quiet click.

You find Javier just outside, him not having wanted to disturb your moment, “He okay?”

“Missed his mommy,” you tell him with a pleased smile as you walk into his arms like earlier.

“Daddy missed Mommy too,” he kisses your cheek. 

“My boys need to learn how to share,” you pull back, grinning at him because of the dirty intention behind Javier’s nickname for himself. You feel his hand rest on your back for a moment only to slide down to pat your ass. You bat it away with a tut.

“We’re already so good at it,” he insists and starts to guide you further down the hallway, the smell of lavender becoming stronger with each step. The hand stays on the small of your back, “Come on.”

When he opens the door to the bathroom, the tub is steaming into the dimly lit room and looks so inviting that your shoulders slump. There’s the baby monitor and an open bottle of wine on the sink counter, which you recognize as one of the more expensive bottles that you’ve had for a while; Javier hadn’t been joking when he said a good bottle. 

He pours you a glass while you slip out of your clothes, and you watch him undress too with a little smile while sipping the red liquid. 

“You did all of this in the few minutes I was in Luke’s room?” You ask as he eventually stands naked in front of you as well. 

“Doesn’t take that long,” he shrugs. He clinks his own glass against yours. “A toast to incompetent bosses.”

“Ugh,” you groan, already stepping over the edge of the bathtub. Javier follows behind, stopping you when you want to sit opposite of him in the water. 

You sigh as Javier guides you to lay down against his chest, his strong arms wrapping around your waist after he has taken a sip of his wine and placed the glass on the widest part of the edge of the tub. He kisses your shoulder tenderly, rubbing off the red stains made by his lips afterward. 

“I’m sorry for leaving you alone tonight,” you say quietly after a few moments of simply enjoying the warm water lapping at your body, the bubbles sitting around your breasts like you’ve seen in many romantic movies. Javier rests his palm on your stomach. 

“Sorry for what?” He questions without judgment and moves his hand across your belly in a soothing gesture, “Are you not home now?”

“You know what I mean,” you place your hand on top of his and take a sip of your own wine, swallowing what feels like a life-saving drink, before setting down the glass next to your husband’s, “I just hate missing out on Lucas’ bedtime. I know you’ve got everything under control, but… I don’t know. I just want to be there for him so he doesn’t forget me.”

“Forget you? You’re being silly now, baby, eres su mamá (you’re his mom). He asked about you. I told him you’d be home soon, and he smiled his big toothy grin,” he reassures and holds you a little tighter against his chest.

“Stop,” you drag out the word, “You’re making me jealous of you getting him all to yourself.” 

“You still get baby-jealous of me?” Javier seems puzzled by this.

“All the time,” you groan and reach for your wine again, knowing it’s irrational, “I want you to hold him too but that’s my baby. I can’t believe how much I miss him when I don’t spend every goddamn second with him.”

“Even when he begs for pancakes ten minutes straight?” You can hear the smirk on his face. 

“Try half an hour,” you reply with a chuckle. 

“Shit,” Javier laughs and you can feel his chest vibrate behind you as he does it. You turn your head to look up at him with your own grin, and he dips down for a lingering kiss that turns into a few tender pecks. God, you love this man so much that it is ridiculous and he does whatever he can to make you feel better. 

“Although,” you continue as you return to your previous position of lying against him, “No more pancakes for me. My thighs have doubled in size since Lucas was born.”

“What are you talking about?” Javier tuts. 

“You’ve got two working eyes,” you tell him while bitterly taking a sip of your drink, “I can barely fit into my jeans anymore with these thighs.”

“God, you should stop saying stuff like that if you don’t want me to imagine your jeans bursting at the seams. I might not be able to handle that,” he teases, both hands going down your belly to lay flat on top of your thighs. He jiggles the flesh slightly, making the water slosh against the edges of the bathtub, “You think I don’t want you every time I see you in those jeans?”

“You’re exaggerating,” you pout and nestle into him. 

“No estoy exagerando. Eres tan sexy (I’m not exaggerating. You’re so sexy), and your body is just proof of how fucking tough it is,” he rubs his hands up and down your thighs, massaging gently, “So what if you allow yourself some pancakes once in a while? You’ve given birth to our son.”

You feel another protest bubble up in your throat but it fades from your mind when Javier kisses your neck gently. Instead, you sigh gently, “Thank you… You know how to make me feel beautiful.”

“You are beautiful, esposa (wife),” he insists and takes your wineglass from you to place it back on the edge of the tub. He wraps both his arms around your torso and arms, trapping you against his chest and holding you tightly, “You shouldn’t allow the stress of today to let you talk about yourself like that.”

“Then let us talk about something else,” you protest his squeezing touch at first but then relax, melting into him and resting your head on his shoulder. His chest rises and falls steadily behind you, and his cheek presses against yours. You close your eyes to enjoy the moment, feeling the warm water gently sway in the tub and hearing the bubbles crackle quietly around your body. 

You talk about little things; about Lucas’ new favorite book, about what you should have for dinner tomorrow, about the funny thing your colleague said at work. The conversation drifts back and forth lazily, like the water around you, and before you know it, wine glasses have been emptied and refilled, and an hour has passed, making the world feel a little bit brighter, a little bit softer.

“Even better,” he says softly as the conversation comes to a natural halt, “How about that for the last few minutes, we just lay here together and don’t talk? Not about stress, not about work, not about what we’re doing tomorrow.”

“You love talking about work,” you argue teasingly. 

“Shh…” He shushes you playfully, pressing his nose into your cheek and blowing a raspberry. You follow orders with a theatrical sigh but finally, relax fully and let your mind drift to comfortable nothingness. You listen to him breathe quietly, hearing him occasionally drinking his wine until he has finished the second glass and is pressing lazy kisses to the parts of your skin that he can reach. 

“See?” He says after what feels like an eternity, “Isn’t this nice?”

“We’re turning into prunes,” you mumble because you’ve been close to drifting off from the soothing warmth of the wine and the water. You cover his hand with your own, yawning towards the ceiling. 

“I don’t want you catching a chill either,” he replies while reluctantly letting go of you so you can rise to your feet and step out of the bathtub. It takes you a moment to pull yourself together to actually do it. 

He follows a moment later and the best part of your night becomes the comfortable silence that occurs when you enjoy the sight of each other as you dry yourselves off, Javier draining the tub and reassuring you that the cleanup can wait until tomorrow. 

There’s electricity in the room as you move around each other, and the way that Javier talked about your body earlier is still lingering in the air. It’s there in the back of your mind with every look, every smile, and every brush of your skin as he passes you while getting ready for bed. In the end, you confront him about it, playing at the subtlety of his actions.

“You’re thinking about something,” you note while moving into the bedroom next door, not in your pajamas yet. You walk to the dresser in the room, opening the right drawer that has your underwear, and feeling the anticipation of his reply. When he follows you into the bedroom, you’re holding your breath. 

“I’m thinking about you,” he murmurs with a small smile. It’s the simplicity of his answer that heats up your thighs, the fact that it is nothing grand and dramatic but enough to tell you that he thinks you are the most desirable woman out there. When you reach for a pair of panties, he lays a hand on top of your wrist, “Don’t.” 

You let him twirl you around to face him, sleepily leaning into him while he moves in for a long, slow kiss that releases some of the tension in the air. You sigh against his mouth and link your arms around his neck, feeling like everything has led up to this since you stepped inside your shared home. 

He has his hands on your waist when he deepens the kiss, taking your breath from your lungs as he kneads the flesh in his hands. You let warmth settle in your belly, let shivers run down your spine.

Suddenly, he pulls back from your mouth. He says nothing as he reaches for your shoulders and gently guides you to turn your back to him. You shiver in anticipation, even more when his hands travel down to rest on your hips and he ushers you towards the bed. 

You kneel on it as you reach the edge, crawling forward until you’re in the center of it. Despite losing his touch for a brief second, it’s worth missing him for just a few moments when you feel the weight of his body making the mattress dip.

He crawls up behind you, still silent as he moves, radiating soothing warmth from your bath together and smelling like the lavender bubbles. You gasp when he gets close, his broad chest grazing your back and his hard cock poking into your ass. 

He rests his hands on your hips. You lean back into him, craning your neck so he can kiss you over your shoulder. He still tastes like wine as he captures your mouth, the hands on your hips tightening their grip slightly. You lay your palms on top of them, kissing him back with increasing impatience. 

“I want you,” you whisper against his mouth and let one hand wander back to squeeze his hip. You can feel him smearing precome on your skin, probably aching as much as you to have it, “Please, Javi.”

“Shh,” he coos, his head descending to kiss your neck in a trail up and down the most sensitive part, “Sé que es difícil, pero tienes que tener paciencia (I know it’s hard but you gotta have patience).” 

You spread your knees a bit more, the hand on Javier’s hip coming back to lay on your thigh to keep your balance, “Fuck me.”

“No, pretty mamá. Fuck me what?” He taunts you but you smile to yourself as one of his hands leaves your body and you hear shuffling behind you. 

“Fuck me please,” you groan a little too loudly anyway. 

“Turn down the volume,” he commands while he nibbles on your neck, nose following side-by-side with the trail of spit that’s already made by him, “You have a 19-months-old who hasn't disturbed us all evening.” 

You suddenly feel his cock between your legs and it makes the snappy retort you want to make die in your throat. The head breaches you and you’re worked up enough to let him come inside if he wants. Your head falls forward as he fills you up, stretching your walls that are soaked despite how he has not played with your cunt tonight. It’s the warm water that has relaxed you, the atmosphere too, and it’s the way he can kiss you wet and ready within a brief minute. 

The both of you pant as he sheaths himself fully inside of you, spearing you on him until his thighs rest against the back of your trembling ones. Just before he moves, you feel brave enough to let go of the top of your thigh to slip your hand down between your legs. 

Javier moans in your ear as you begin by feeling where the two of you are connected, your hole stretched around his generous girth. You know he is struggling not to move because he is breathing hard behind you, letting you indulge in this filthy act as you get used to him being inside of you. 

“Mamácita,” he borders on begging. 

“Move,” you allow him by commanding him. 

He pulls out only a little before he rocks his hips into you again, filling you to the brim once more. You bite down on your lip to stifle your relieved whimper, it taking only a few thrusts for you to settle into a rhythm with him. 

As he fucks you, you keep your balance with the help of him, his arm coming around your body so he can splay a palm on your heaving chest. You lay your free hand on top of his, curling your fingers around his fingers while the bed creaks below you and you nearly manage to keep quiet all the way through. 

“Baby,” you screw your eyes shut as he goes harder and makes you see stars behind your eyelids. Your noises climb in pitch, turning into pathetic whines as you start rubbing your clit to get off. However, Javier slaps the hand you still have between your legs away. 

“I don’t want you doing any work. This pussy is mine to treat,” he growls quietly behind you and presses two fingers down on your clit, hard and aching for attention. He goes in circular motions, gradually speeding up his pace to get you to orgasm. 

“Fuck,” you cry out and throw your head back to rest it on his shoulder, exposing the column of your neck to make it almost too easy for him. The hand on your chest goes upward, a gentle squeeze to your throat making an even louder moan impossible to breathe. 

You take the hint. He doesn’t squeeze anymore, simply keeping his fingers around your neck like a necklace as a lewd warning while he repeatedly sinks deeply into your cunt with his maddening skill that has your pleasure peaking rapidly. 

“Gonna—“

“I know,” he pants but doesn’t slow the powerful pace that makes his cock move inside of you just like he knows you love it, “Shh…”

“Kiss me, I— I can’t keep quiet,” you sob at the continuous onslaught. You’re soaking his cock and balls in your slick, the squelch of your wet walls sounding obscene in the otherwise quiet room. It gets even worse when you come, fast and hard with a sharp intake of air that you lose again the second he kisses your open mouth. 

It is so intense; the continuing stab of your g-spot, the way the pads of his fingers move on your clit just right, and how he doesn’t stop even as your orgasm ebbs out and leaves you a sensitive mess. You hadn’t planned on it being this sinful tonight, had just expected slow and sensual but as he makes your eyes water, you know it had been his plan all along. 

Your thighs tremble when he forces you to come again, squeezing around his dick until you can hear his own breathing switch to something more desperate. You reach behind yourself to grab at his hip, moving your hand even further back to pull him into you by his ass. He gets the point, releases your mouth, and moves the hand between your legs to your shoulder to push you forward. 

When you are resting on your forearm and gripping the sheets, your other hand still rests on his backside. You urge him to fuck you more by pulling him again to which he responds by pounding you greedily into the mattress. 

Your body writhes as he does, twisting and struggling to take him after coming twice in a row but you can’t stop yourself from wanting to feel him finish inside of you. It’s enough to make you bite the bedsheets, keening as he gives you those last few pushes of his cock. 

He comes with a low, guttural groan of your name, body going rigid behind you until you feel the warmth of his seed spread inside of you. It makes you whine in satisfaction, pushing back against him so it goes as far into you as possible before he is soft. 

“Shit,” he hisses at the sensitivity, “Stop.”

Both your hands rest in front of you now. A string of saliva still connects you to the sheets as you let go with your mouth, “Didn’t expect you to lose it enough to finish in me.”

“Mentirosa (Liar),” he gives a breathless chuckle, reaching for the base of his cock to carefully pull out. You earn a smack to your ass and the both of you make a noise in unison, even more when a dribble of come slides down your slick folds and drips from your clit. Javier swears under his breath, “You want another baby, huh, mi amor (my love)?”

“Would it hurt?” You ask, collapsing flat onto your front and looking back over your shoulder in your post-orgasmic bliss. You smile sweetly, spreading your legs a little wider to allow him to see his load stain the sheets. 

“Is this really how we have that conversation? When it might have already happened?” He lets out a theatrical sigh, his gaze resting between your legs even as he kneels to rake his fingers down your spine. He rubs the small of your back. 

“You’re more agreeable after sex,” you say with a twinkle in your eye and wiggle your hips to give him a little show, “I know when to ask for what I want, and I want a sibling for Lucas while he is still little. It’ll be good for him.” 

“I’ll give you as many babies as you like,” Javier bends down to kiss the skin of your back, nose between your shoulder blades. You are salty with sweat, probably have beads of it at the base of your spine, and sigh deeply at the loving touch of his mouth. 

You arch into the kiss that he plants right below your hairline, “I’m not just messing with you, baby. I want a family with you.”

Javier tenses up at that but the air in the room doesn’t change. He loves it when you say things like that, and it makes his hand still on your back which burns slightly from his warm touch. After a second more, he shifts to lay beside you, propping himself up on one elbow so he can see you better. You turn your head to the side, your cheek resting against the cool sheets. 

“I mean it,” you say softly. “Another baby… I think I’m ready. If you are.”

“You’re serious about this,” he says into the room, not quite a question but close enough for you to answer it like one.

“I am,” you scoot closer, trying to push down the distracting urge to go clean up when this starts to turn into a profound conversation.

He studies your face, searching your eyes as if trying to see how deep this desire runs. You hold his gaze, letting him see your sincerity. Finally, he smiles softly and leans down to peck your lips a few times, “You know I can never say no to you.”

You grin, so much for profound, “That’s because you know I’m right.”

He snorts and rolls his eyes. He reaches out to give your ass a playful smack, “Yeah yeah. Happy wife, happy life. Now go wash up, I can see you want to.”

“You need to shower too and I’ll change the sheets when you do,” you tell him as you crawl off the bed, halfway to the master bathroom when you continue, “I don’t want your dick in my new sheets.” 

When he doesn’t respond immediately, you peek back at him from the bathroom door. He has turned onto his back, resting on both his elbows and sporting a smile that he didn’t think you would see. He looks at you when he notices you, his chest practically aglow with happiness. 

“¿Otro bebé, eh? (Another baby, huh?)” He watches you rest against the doorframe, gorgeous as ever when he is completely naked and happy. 

“I know you love making them, that’s why I thought you would be onboard,” you joke with the same kind of smile on your lips. 

“Onboard? Mi amor (my love), I’m the captain of this ship,” he winks, “And ready to set sail whenever you want.”

“Good because I don’t want you only at half-mast,” you wave your hand dismissively while Javier laughs in a way that has your heartbeat racing in your chest, feeling high school again, “Too many sea jokes.” 

“I fucking love you,” he still laughs. 

“I love you too,” you say softly and close the door.

.

.

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[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

oh my god i think i just had an epiphany

[augustinewrites]

yesterday afternoon - after an unsuccessful coffee shop date - you’d decided that dating sucked. it was much too awkward and formal and not at all like it was in the movies, putting too much pressure on the people involved.

last night - after watching shoko flirt her way into free drinks - you’d been tipsy enough to take her advice. 

casual sex! it doesn't have to be with a stranger, just pick someone you know. someone you’re sure you won't fall in love with.

this morning you’d woken up to find gojo laying in bed next to you.

you lay shoulder to shoulder with the one person you should not have picked, staring up at the ceiling, waiting for the other person to speak. 

“did we really–” 

“three times,” satoru confirms happily, rolling onto his side to grin down at you. “i'm surprised we didn't do this sooner, really. our sexual tension has always been off the charts.”

when he leans in to kiss you, his lips meet your palm as your expression wrinkles. “don’t get familiar.”

“we’re naked together in bed– we slept together in more than the literal sense. can’t get more familiar than that.” 

“and this never happen again,” you promise, refusing to look at him. 

“why? because you’re afraid you’ll fall in love with me? it’s okay to admit it. i'm extremely lovable.” 

you’ve seen the way girls fawn over him. how they swoon over his pretty eyes and confident smile. he’s satoru gojo. a legend amongst jujutsu society. you’re no one in comparison, not a user of an otherworldly cursed technique, not from a major clan. 

people like him don’t fall for people like you. you’re afraid of rejection, afraid of being hurt. 

“we’re friends,” you tell him honestly. “i don’t want to risk ruining our friendship over something like this.” 

he tilts his head as your look at him. “shoko told you to try casual sex, didn't she? why not with me?”

“she told you?” you groan, dragging a hand down your face and making a mental note to never ask your roommate for advice for anything ever again. 

“hey, look at me,” he urges, grasping your hand. you do as he says, meeting his earnest gaze. “i can be casual and chill, it’s not like i have a huge crush on you or anything.” 

it’s so hard to say no to him. you really wish you could.  

“i’ll think about it,” you tell him, rolling your eyes when he fist pumps. “but you need to go home before shoko sees you.” 

but you’re dealing with satoru gojo, who almost never does what he’s told. “you’re not getting rid of me that easily. come here.”

he winds an arm around you, pulli my you in so you’re snug against his chest. explicit memories of last night flash through your mind, sending heat through your veins.

 “i can’t.” you tell him (though you’re mostly reminding yourself.) this is insane— satoru, what are you—”

you’re cut off when he shushes you, whispering let’s sleep in for a little while longer. 

he starts to drift off again as you struggle to escape his grasp, but your efforts are futile. even on the throes of sleep, satoru is stronger than you. 

so you give up, resigning yourself to a few more minutes of…cuddling. shoko isn’t a morning person anyways.

after a minute, you find it's not entirely awful. it’s a purely physical reaction. gojo is good looking, even with his hair mussed with sleep and his mouth hanging open. because you know that under the softness of his skin lays defined muscle, and spending the morning in his nicely toned arms isn’t the worst thing in the world. 

(it’s purely physical, is what your head tries to convince your heart, which is beating a little faster than usual.)

a very soft, content sigh slips past your lips. 

then, shoko knocks on your door. 

“hey! don’t tell me you’re too hungover for grocery shopping.” 

“shit!” you whisper harshly, shoving him away from you. “she cannot see you in here.” 

“afraid you’ll have to share?” he teases, narrowly avoiding being hit with a pillow. “okay, okay! where do you want me?”

“closet!” you instruct, scrambling my around the room to make sure none of his clothes are lying around. you thrust them into his hands, pushing him into your closet. 

he catches the door before you can close it, smiling down at you. “aren’t you glad we’re doing this?”

you shove him inside, slamming the door shut just ask shoko bursts into the room.

“hey,” you greet, trying your best to appear casual as you lean against the door. your heart beats in your throat, as she squints at you, then lets her gaze sweep across the room.

“did you bring someone home last night?”

“no.”

she looks at you. really looks at you, you think. 

“okay,” she finally says, though you can’t tell if she believes you. “i just– i thought i saw you leave with gojo. suguru said you two were flirting all night.”

“gojo and i?” you try to laugh, but it comes out a little strained. “never in a million years.”

shoko only shrugs, and you let yourself relax when she turns to leave…

…only for her to turn around once more, leaning the the doorframe. “well if you really don't like him, just let him down easy, alright? suguru told me he has a huge crush on you.” 

wait–

“gojo?”

you hear a sharp inhale through the door. 

“yeah,” she nods. “you really couldn't tell?”

gojo…has a crush on you. it takes a few seconds to truly sink in. “i had no idea.” 

“of course you didn't. he’s definitely got a really weird way of showing it.”

she turns to leave for real this time, but you wait a couple extra seconds before opening your closet, finding a wide eyed, blushing satoru staring at you. 

you can't help but laugh. at his expression, at shoko’s revelation, at this entire situation.

dating sucks, but maybe it won’t be that bad if it’s with him.

[cursingtoji]

“hm hello? do you need help?” yuuji approached the lady walking the hallways so slowly she seemed lost.

“huh?” you turned and he smiled, thinking how gorgeous you looked. your uniform was a lot like nobara’s, although it was lighter, like it was slightly bleached or just worn a lot, “no, i… i go here.”

“oh are you gojo-sensei’s student too?” he was excited to meet another student, it was such a big school for just a few people.

“gojo… sensei” you repeated confused.

“oh you must be utahime-sensei’s student then? from kyoto?” he tilted his head, like a puppy.

“utahime…” you whispered, “is geto here?” you asked with a certain urgency in your voice, “geto suguru.”

“who? geto?” he scratched his head, trying to remember if he heard about a sensei called geto suguru, “i don’t think i—“

“itadori!” megumi called from outside, yuuji saw him die below through the open windows of the second floor he was at, his classmate probably saw him as well.

“ah fushiguro!” he greeted his friend and turned back to you, “i’ll ask megumi, he’s been here for longer than me.”

“who you talking to?!” megumi shouted.

“her!” he pointed, you were in front of him, right by the opened window too, he couldn’t see you?

megumi even moved a bit, “itadori, there’s no one there. stop playing, we got to leave!” megumi scolded him before entering the building.

“eh?” yuuji was frowning.

“sorry, i think i’m in the wrong place” you bowed and turned away running.

“wait!” he ran after you, turning corners he thought you could’ve gone but after a few ones he reached a dead end.

“hm? yuuji?” gojo emerged from a classroom.

“gojo-sensei! there was… someone…” he looked around.

“oi, we’re waiting for you, let’s go” megumi came from where he was, grabbing yuuji by the hood of his uniform and dragging him away.

gojo watched through a window as they walked down the staircase until both boys walked out of the building.

“that was weird” you murmured from inside the classroom he was in, “that boy called you sensei” you put more rice into your hungry mouth, “does yaga know you’re pretending to be a teacher here?”

satoru closed the door, lighting another incense on the table that you used to sit. where every year on the anniversary of your death he built a shrine with food you liked.

“i thought haibara was in a mission but i saw him by the tree” you pointed behind you with your chopsticks, where, outside the classroom and behind the building remained the tree you always had lunch underneath during hot summer days.

he undid the blindfold, letting his hair fall as he sat in front of you, admiring how you never aged a day. after all, you couldn’t.

in fact, it seemed like you didn’t realize how much time has passed. every year you appeared and every year you thought it was still 2006, when you had two kouhais that did everything you asked, a girl best friend that insisted you smoked with her and two boys that were helplessly in love with you. the last year you were alive.

“is suguru not coming?” you asked with your mouth full.

gojo swallowed hard, “no, angel. it’s just us.”

[joelsgu4tar]

JOEL MILLER FIC RECS

⇾ 18+ minors DNI, read at your own risk! ⇽

an appreciation to all my favourite writers out there you deserve all the love <3

Series

— Something To Fight For by @auteurdelabre | After a disastrous blind date you decide to stay away from the miserable Joel Miller forever...

— I Know Who You Are by @punkshort | A fall on patrol causes you to lose your long-term memory, forgetting the identities of your friends and loved ones. You have to learn all over again how to survive in a post-apocalyptic world, and you learn things about yourself along the way.

— The One You Need by @loliwrites | When you move into town hellbent on keeping everyone at arm’s length, your neighbour Joel finds his way into your life.

— By The Grit Of Sandpaper by @penvisions | An offhand comment from you inspires Joel to branch out and create helpful kitchen wares. And it seems everyone has been gifted one from him, except for you. It makes you rethink the casual friendship you had developed...

— I Wanna Be Your Lover by @shellshocklove | Miserable after losing your job, your friend drags you out to a club to dance away your sadness. on the dancefloor, you meet a handsome stranger, who then whisks you away into his fantasy world as his assistant for his porn career. what happens when the lines get blurred?

— If The Door Wasn't Shut by @heartpascal | months of travelling with Joel and Ellie come crashing down on you, the fear is suffocating.

— Stay In Bed by @psychedelic-ink | After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance.

— That's A Real Fucking Legacy by @wyn-n-tonic | When Tommy disappears in search of a better life with a promise to come back for you, his years of absence and the grief it leaves behind drives you and his brother closer together until the man you're sharing a bed and starting a family with is Joel Miller and not the one you always thought it would be.

One-Shots

— No Time To Die by @davosmymaster | The main difficulty of being Joel’s closest friend is not falling in love with him, but you still do. Those feelings are buried until you join him on a mission to trade supplies with Bill and Frank. With your life now hanging by a thread, Joel is determined to get you to safety, but the clock is ticking faster than he can run.

— White Lies by @poeticpascal | Joel would do anything for you. He does anything for you. And he makes sure you don't know a thing.

— Saying Thanks by @vivwritescrappythings | Joel is your grumpy patrol partner who doesn’t even talk to you in the streets of Jackson. But one night a man grabs your arm at the Tipsy Bison, and Joel’s decided he doesn’t like it.

— Soft & Sweet by @cavillscurls | You share your first kiss with the last man you ever expected: your older, grouchy, overly protective patrol partner, Joel Miller.

— Who We Are by @gracieheartspedro | Being stuck on the road with an older guy you've been crushing on for ages won't be so bad, right? wrong. because he's been pining after you, too. and one of you will have to give in eventually.

— Warm Me Up by @tightjeansjavi | While on patrol, you and Joel find yourselves caught in a treacherous snowstorm.

— Love In the Time Of Cordyceps by @sameheart-sameblood | When the world ends, you promise you'll never love again. Joel Miller makes that rule hard to stick to.

— Puppy Love by @absurdthirst | You always follow Joel Miller around, you've got his back. You're in love with him. Putting up with Tess's nickname of puppy dog, you don't realize that Joel feels for you until the end.

— Light The Flame by @yeollie-plz | Your mom moves the two of you back to Texas and attempts to reignite an old flame. What will happen when she learns his candle now burns for you?

— Best I Ever Had by @endlessthxxghts | Someone tries to hit on you on your night out with Joel, insulting your man in the process, and oh you don't like that. You blow off some steam in more ways than one.

— Make A Move On Me by @freelancearsonist | You've been teasing Joel every day since he started remodelling construction on your house. He finally works up the courage to do something about it - but not in the way you expect him to.

— Fire Walk by @motherofagony | A chance encounter at a motel has you crossing paths with a stranger in a blue t-shirt.

— Cry Baby by @psychedelic-ink | bodies have been dropping left and right in the most brutal ways in Jackson. As the relentless wave of deaths continues, your mind becomes increasingly restless. however, you find a sense of comfort and solace in the presence of Joel. who might be hiding secrets of his own.

[satoruhour]

Need sukuna in racer au 😩

REWARDS FROM A RACER

a/n: more of smut than him being a racer …. im not opposed to doing a ‘how they met’ ngl

wc: 2.1k

warnings: ooc sukuna, dom!sukuna, lewd declarations in public, he’s a little mean and calls you ‘whore’, ‘slut’, praise, degradation, pet names, car sex, semi-public sex, oral (m! receiving), light face-fucking, unprotected sex, riding, p → v penetration, clit stimulation, dash of daddy kink, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut

“doll, c’mon, we don’t have much time till the race starts.” 

“i know, ’kuna! give me a minute, ’m just tightening the screws on the crankshaft.” you already hear the joke from miles away, a soft chuckle comes after he mumbles “heh, shaft” and you resist the urge to roll your eyes while stifling a smile. it seems like sukuna had enough of waiting for you in the driver’s seat, so he meets you at the front of the car where the hood is popped.

if anyone told you sukuna was someone who would’ve made time for anyone else but himself, you would laugh in their face because when had ryomen “king of curses” sukuna ever thought about anyone but himself? he had all that he could have: a ’66 Ford GT40 (that he named king of curses — a tad bit goofy, he knows), girls on his arm, first place for every race he took part in. he was untouchable.

but during a night in the midst of a drag race he saw you outside a club, barely catching a glimpse of you shoving off a man who couldn’t take no for an answer. he wasn’t surprised to see kenjaku — another racer from another region and someone who he had an infamous rival with — laugh when he had come to your rescue, cut off when the king of curses landed a clean hit to the other’s face. sukuna made sure you were okay after the whole debacle, but he also fucked you silly to show you how a man should really be treating you.

it was the only race he ever lost.

“sometimes i forget how much shit you put up with when you’re with me,” sukuna grins, a sneaky hand moving from your waist to your ass to squeeze it, “fixing my engine like an obedient little girl.”

you simply turn to him with a bored expression, but you can’t deny the throb between your legs when he talks to you like that, “glad you’re self aware, ’kuna.”

“smart mouth you have there, hm?” sukuna pulls you even closer against his front and you can already feel the half-hard bulge there. he’s always hard before a race, too. that you know, because it’s an emerging characteristic of his that you’re not opposed to because sukuna ends up pounding into you in his driver’s seat once the race is finished. he just can’t help the adrenaline, can’t he?

“guess i’ll just have to ruin you,” sukuna cuts off your next reply with a messy kiss, swallowing the soft moans that leave your mouth at the temporary relief you’re getting from grinding on him, “later.”

you scoff, feigning annoyance, “yeah, yeah, i know. you never miss a race.”

sukuna just smiles, smacking your ass slyly and makes his way to the driver’s seat before you have time to gasp, simply raising an eyebrow (“don’t tell me you didn’t like that?”) when you slap his chest later in the passenger seat.

“oh god, he’s going to do that thing again right?” beside you are the other more prominent racers of tokyo, the famous four excluding sukuna. gojo is the one who asked the question, nudging you with a grin that’s got you groaning into your hands. slowly, you nod.

across from you is sukuna in his Ford GT40, shouting with his windows rolled down, “i’m gonna fuck you so good after i win this race, princess!” and while you’re turned on at the prospect, you’re also wincing at how everyone whoops and cheers because he does this in every race. it never gets old, though, just as the laughter of the other four floods your ears.

“do you really have to scream it every time?” you lean down to the window once the two cars are at the starting line, running a hand through his mildly sweaty locks. his perspiration is a little pink from the dye he’s used to top up the colour of his hair and you jokingly wipe your wet hands on his top.

sukuna grabs your wrist, pulling you gently to give you a noisy, sloppy kiss, his words whispered against your lips, “they have to know how you scream every night.”

you tsk with a laugh, hand reaching down to palm his dick that makes him grunt, “give ’em hell, baby.”

and he definitely makes the other wish he never was born. sukuna likes to play dirty, bumping into the rear of the other when he’s behind, sending a middle finger to the racer when he passes him, it’s part of why your boyfriend tends to prefer solitude because he’s not on everyone’s good side.

with skidding tires, sukuna finishes with a dashing grin, but he’s so focused on you that he doesn’t realise the crowd around him, some reaching forward to congratulate him, others wanting to touch his car. the racer barks out before anyone can violate his ride.

“oi, you fuckin’ idiots dare touch my car and i swear i’ll fuck up yours.”

beside you, geto mutters out a yeesh while gojo just giggles, patting your shoulder before you bid goodbye to the famous four. the crowd makes way for you, naturally, when you walk towards his car, because what kind of mental person willingly dates sukuna? they follow your figure as you make your way to him, swaying your hips for everyone to see, but you hardly care when all you can fixate on is his promise to you before every race starts.

and all he does that night is fulfil his promise, whisking you away from the cramped parking lot and into the late tokyo roads, whizzing past street lamps and cop cars and howling at the top of his voice. he loves it, he loves you and you see it every time he drives you home after a late night race and every time he noisily drives up to you when someone’s bothering you.

sukuna loves your body, too, because all you know later on is his cock in your mouth on a quiet, remote mountain used for drifting. with the winter season approaching, it was desolate, except for the way your head bobs up and down on his length, which hardens even more inside your mouth.

“that’s it, fuckkk yes.” sukuna groans, a hand clutching onto the leather of his seat while the other finds purchase in your hair, pulling on your locks till it hurts. with his hips moving erratically paired with the soreness in your jaw, it’s really the only thing you can concentrate on in an awkward position while hovering over the stick shift. “suck like the dirty cockslut you are.”

“’kuna, mmfhh—!” your hands rush to find his thighs on a particularly deep thrust, tip hitting the back of your throat and you look up at sukuna through teary lashes and breathe through your nose before he lets you off briefly. but your mouth is too warm just like how your pussy feels and sukuna forces your head onto him again.

sukuna groans when he lets you do your own thing, mouth taking half of him while your hands help you with the other, alternating between taking sucking the bottom of his cock and lapping at his tip, continuing to flutter your lashes at him.

“stick out your tongue f’me, doll,” he manages to choke out a moan, grabbing his cock to slap it on your tongue (it’s so heavy that you moan), making lewd sounds before he starts thrusting again, feeling every inch of your mouth with no time to warn you of his impending orgasm until the car is filled with his incessant groans and grunts, hips faltering at how your mouth just keeps sucking. “fuck— i’m cumming.” sukuna spills unexpectedly, shooting his cum deep down your throat and you moan around his shaft. he’s not laughing now, focused solely on getting every last bit of cum into your system as he tilts his head back in utmost pleasure. 

“take all of it,” his movements slow down, admiring how you look like you worship him with a lax mouth and pleading eyes, and he knows you do, but before that he’s ensuring you know that his worship of you overtakes yours by miles, pulling you impatiently to his seat before dragging your panties to the side. the other likes it when you wear skirts, easy access he says, licking his lips in anticipation when he sees how the fabric sticks to your cunt from how wet you were, leaving a string of arousal that snaps once it’s far enough.

“well? what’re you waiting for?” sukuna raises an eyebrow, a small chuckle leaving him when you mumble out a i’m getting to it! as you gather the slick leaking from your needy pussy. the feel of his mushroom tip against your clit is gratifying and you line him up before sinking down slowly. even after taking him multiple times, his size always makes your eyes widen and jaw drop at the stretch, incoherent whimpers leaving as he watches you take all nine inches of him.

“s’kuna, f-fuck…” you wrap your arms around his neck, suddenly shy at being so spread open for him to see, “s’big, you’re so big!” he hums, pressing little kisses down the side of your face while kneading your ass, plush thighs nestled around his pelvis so cutely that he appreciates your brief pause before you start riding him — because he can’t resist cumming when he sees you crying on top of him, trying his best to prolong the way you feel around him.

“i know i’m big, but you’re taking me so well, aren’t you, baby?” sukuna coos, holding your eyes that struggle to stay open as you bounce on his thick cock, ass meeting his hips in noisy pap’s as you flood his car with whining pleas of him filling you to the brim. there’s a white ring of pre-cum at the base of his shaft where your juices mix, dripping down the hilt and onto his balls, definitely soaking his leather seats. “just a whore for me to fuck stupid, yea?”

you nod frantically, babbling to no one as you throw your head back, pussy clenching when his lips meet your tits and he sucks hard on your nipples, flicking his tongue around your buds before moving to the other. “got so t-tight from me doing that,” sukuna laughs, wrapping a hand ’round your chin to force you to look at him. lips pursed, eyes blown wide from his cock in your cunt, hair sticking to your forehead, he swear he could cum deep in you right there and then.

“you love how i stretch you out?” he then yanks your head down to make you watch how your pelvis meets his, juices spurting in all directions by how wet you were. it truly was a sight, how his cock disappears into you and reappears, thighs burning from how fast you were bouncing on him.

“love it s’much, daddy,” you whine, eyes rolling to the back of your skull as you grab his free hand, bringing it to your neglected clit that’s been throbbing all night, “but i n-need you here, s’kuna…” and when he starts to rub circles into your puffy clit, you jolt at the feeling, screaming out obscenities at the sensations that overwhelm your body. he knows you’re getting tired and close, too.

so he shocks you by thrusting up, your body immediately halting to receive the way he rails into you and while your muscles are still cramping, it’s infinitely better than riding him. with his thrusts and his hand on your clit, you can already feel the coil in your stomach turning as your body slumps against him, “daddy!”’s spilling from your lips with mixed wanton moans. “that’s it, a good little slut who’s taking daddy’s cock, fuck—”

“so warm, and tight,” within seconds, his thrusts are irregular when you start to clench around him again, high-pitched whines filling his ears before you reach your high with a slack jaw and trembling thighs, body lined with sweat. but it’s the way your cum leaks down his length that gets sukuna releasing after you, the familiar pleas of wanting his cum deep in your cunt. he does just that, grunting into your neck when his hips thrust deeply before he releases his hot, thick semen into your pussy, gushing out because there’s just so much.

“love it when i breed my girl,” he mutters with a laugh breathlessly while you’re moaning softly at how he’s still spilling into you, overflowing cum leaking from your cunt even when he’s still inside. sukuna grins when your hips never really stop, still continuing to grind aimlessly.

“love my sweet girl who can’t think of anything but getting fucked stupid.”

[disaster-writer]

Tear You Apart (Prequel)

Pairing: Dabi x Reader x Shigaraki

Summary: Before you had found out who had been drugging you, Dabi had invited Shigaraki to come and watch one of these occasions

Word Count: 3.6k

Rating: X 18+

Warnings: Dark fic, smut, noncon, drugging, voyeurism, exhibitionism, masochism… dead dove: do not eat

A/N: This is a prequel, read the first part here —>

Tear You Apart (Part 1)

Dabi took a long drag on the cigarette that hung loosely from his fingers before blowing out, the smoke billowing in front of him.

He looked over lazily at the male companion he sat with at the bar.

”You like her~” he lilted, mocked even, watching Shigaraki stare over his shoulder at the pretty woman that sat in the booth in the back all by herself.

”Like who?” He asked, not bothering to look away.

It made Dabi scoff, “Don’t play dumb, makes you look like a fuckin’ idiot.” He muttered, taking another drag.

It was odd being trapped in this limbo, not knowing what the fuck to do as the days passed, waiting for Shigaraki’s master to tell them what to do next.

But at least some of the fuckers in the league were out searching for recruits for once and the ones that weren’t were already asleep.

It was just Dabi and Shigaraki.

And you all alone in the back.

”She’s falling asleep,” Shigaraki idly commented, watching your eyes fluttering shut and then open every few seconds.

Dabi looked over his own shoulder. 

You were falling asleep.

He then looked at your drink that you completely drained.

”She had two drinks tonight,” Dabi offered as an explanation.

”She doesn’t drink alcohol. They’re mocktails.”

Dabi sucked on his teeth, “Someone pays attention, huh?” he taunted.

It pissed him off how much Shigaraki paid attention to you. Dabi was never fond of sharing.

”She said she used to be an alcoholic,” he added.

He may as well have been removing the staples from his seams and peeling the flesh back himself with how deeply he was getting under his skin.

”Or it’s just fuckin’ late, speaking of which, maybe you should go to sleep too. Huh Shiggy? Heard we had another long day of doing fuck all.”

Dabi needed him gone, he was already cutting into his schedule for the night by hanging around, staring at you.

”We have a meeting in the morning,” he muttered into his shoulder. His unwavering eyes never leaving your huddled form, curled up in the booth. “Someone should take her to her room.”

”And by someone I’m sure you’re talking about yourself, huh?” He muttered, stubbing out his cigarette in the ash tray, “Wanna try touching little miss ‘can’t touch me’ don’t’cha.”

”She has clothes on. It wouldn’t hurt.”

”Just trying to cop a feel then?”

Shigaraki didn’t respond.

Dabi tapped the bar impatiently, he was really starting to get on his nerves. 

Fuck— why didn’t you just go to your fucking room before falling asleep like last time. 

He guessed he was lucky that more people weren’t around, at least he knew Shigaraki’s thoughts were just as depraved as his… actually he wouldn’t put it past the fucking creep to think up even more disgusting shit than he does.

Dabi looked back over his shoulder.

You were asleep.

Shit.

You drank a lot of that shit tonight, the pineapple juice he spiked being the base of both drinks. He’d be lucky if he was able to get you coherent at all.

He looked at Shigaraki and he was still just fucking staring.

Dabi needed a plan to get you into your room.

Ah, fuck it.

Dabi turned back towards the bar, fingering the rim of his own empty glass.

”I slipped her something.”

At that Shigaraki was looking at him for the first time the entire night.

”Why?” 

He didn’t seem put off, just curious.

Fuckin’ perv.

“I conducted a little experiment of mine the other night and I wanted to do it again.”

”What was it?”

”I wanted to see what would happen if I touched her.”

Shigaraki eyed him. Dabi looked fine and he had listened in on some of your own depressing stories growing up, like how your mother stabbed herself to death in front of you after you touched her or how you watched a dog ram it’s head against the side of a building until it died, after you tried petting it as a child.

He didn’t remember Dabi going through any bizarre episodes like that.

“What happened after you touched her?” 

Dabi looked up from his glass, looking right into those little beady red eyes of his, “I fucked her.”

“How?” He breathed out, curiosity bleeding from the single word.

He started scratching his neck.

“Come with me and I’ll show you.”

”Okay.”

Dabi stood up, hands shoved in his pockets as he made his way over to your curled up body, sleeping with your head against the wall.

He slid in beside you as Shigaraki stood off to the side awkwardly.

”Hey, crybaby,” Dabi hummed. He grasped your shoulder, pulling you to lean on him instead.

You didn’t even hum, still fast asleep.

Fuck, you were really out of it tonight. But you were so pliable right now he couldn’t be too stressed.

”Crybaby?” Shigaraki asked.

A knowing smirk painted Dabi’s lips, “You’ll find out.” 

There was no point spending time right now trying to wake you, so instead he slipped back out of the booth, managed to pull you towards the end before hooking an arm under your knees and around your back, lifting you out of the booth.

”Let’s go,” Dabi muttered to Shigaraki as he began walking towards your room.

Shigaraki followed after, staring at your face as your head hung back with no strength to hold it up.

His cock stirred.

Reaching your room, Dabi shouldered the door open and Shigaraki shut it behind him.

Only a dim lamp was on, lighting up the room.

Shigaraki didn’t look around, he didn’t need to. There had been more than one occasion he had slipped inside while you were out quirk training, to lay in your bed… to touch himself while surrounded by your scent and the things you’ve touched with those wonderfully destructive hands of yours.

Dabi walked over to your bed, laying you down flat on your back, seating himself between your legs, dragging his hands over your clothed hips and thighs.

“Sit down or something,” Dabi snapped at Shigaraki, “I don’t need you looming over my shoulder like a fuckin’ creep.”

”I want to see you touch her.”

”You can do that from the floor you freak.”

He sat down, a bit too close for his liking but Dabi let it be. 

Dabi leaned over you, raising his hand and smacking your cheek a couple times. “Time to wake up crybaby.”

Shigaraki watched in curiosity, Dabi didn’t seem to be in any pain from touching your cheek. “Did that hurt?”

”Yeah,” Dabi grinned, watching your heavy eyelids trying to peel back, “It fuckin’ hurts all right.”

You groaned, deep in your throat as your head lolled to your shoulder. “Da… Dabi…” you murmured, trying to focus your tired eyes on him.

“That’s right baby, enjoy your nap?— hey, no“ he smacked your cheek again, harder this time as your eyes started drooping. “Look who’s joining us tonight,” he pushed your head to the side, making you look at Shigaraki.

Your face screwed up cutely, you were just so confused, “Sh.. Shh,” was all you managed to get out.

”I know,” he said condescendingly, “It’s a hard name to say. But that’s okay, you only need to know mine tonight.” He dragged his hand down, squeezing your tit and pulling out a surprised grunt from you. “Let’s get you out of these ridiculous clothes, always wearing this baggy shit.”

He pulled you up, holding up your dead weight as he started yanking your hoodie up, pulling it up and over your head, body slumping back down against the futon as it came off.

You had no bra on, leaving you in your gloves that you always wore and your sweatpants.

Shigaraki’s hand twitched as he eyed your tits.

”Ah, ah, ah,” Dabi tsked, noticing the movement from the corner of his eye, “Can’t touch remember.”

Shigaraki was getting annoyed, “Why can you?”

He ignored him, hooking his fingers into your sweats and panties, pulling them down your hips and legs until they flopped back down around him.

You groaned again.

Then came your gloves. 

And that woke you up— or at least as close you could come to waking up in this state.

”No, can’t,” you grunted, trying to pull your hands from Dabi’s grasp, “Can’t,” you whined louder.

“There you go,” Dabi sighed, pulling the second glove off, “Feel better without all those clothes?”

You were completely naked but Dabi had barely touched you, and it was pissing Shigaraki off, but he’d admit the sight of your perky nipples in the cool air did something to cool off the annoyance simmering deep within.

“Touch her,” he ordered.

Dabi raised a brow, looking at him for the first time since coming here, “You saying that as my boss?”

”Yes,” he hissed, starting to scratch his neck again.

”Fine. You got it boss.”

Dabi sighed, rolling his shoulders back. He pulled his jacket off, tossing it behind him before pulling his shirt off, tossing it at Shigaraki with a laugh who only decayed it without a word as it landed in his hand.

”Funny ain’t it?” Dabi asked, hovering above your sleepy face. He looked over to Shigaraki, “You can’t touch her because you’re both the same side of the same coin, but us,” he looked back down to you, nose almost brushing against your own, “We’re two sides of the same.” He dipped down, locking his lips with your own.

He groaned loudly against your mouth, a sharp, piercing pain erupting throughout his mouth, radiating outwards, needles being threaded in and out of his skin. They stabbed his eyes and eardrums.

It made his fucking cock throb and he needed more.

He licked into your mouth, swallowing all the little whimpers you emitted, panting into yours as he breathed through the pain.

His hands ached as they dragged along your sides feeling a sharp, stabbing pain as if two knives had been stabbed straight through his palms and he dragged them down, down, down.

You whimpered, body jolting in shock at the feel of him cupping your cunt.

You shook your head, pulling away from the kiss and looking to the side as your breathing began picking up.

Dabi started kissing down your neck instead.

Your eyes opened, looking all over the room before landing on Shigaraki.

His breath hitched as he watched you, hand slowly moving towards his crotch.

”What… What’s happenin’” you asked, staring at him with such large, watery puppy eyes.

Shigaraki stared at you, he had never seen an expression like this on you. Lost, vulnerable, seeking comfort, assurance. He started scratching harder. “Dabi’s going to show me how he fucks you, crybaby—“

Dabi tsked, “Come up with your own fuckin’ pet name.”

Your eyes lolled in your head, landing on the fluffy mane on Dabi’s head.

”How—“ you cut yourself off with a gasp, hips jerking.

Shigaraki’s eyes snapped down to where his hand disappeared between your legs. “What are you doing?” He asked impatiently, trying to inch forward and see what was going on, now grasping his cock through his pants.

Dabi dragged his lips up to your ear, “Shiggy wants to see how I make you feel good. You wanna show him your cute little pussy, show him how you cream around my fingers crybaby.”

Tears started falling, too overwhelmed by what was going on and not being able to grasp any of it.

He sat back up, leaning away from you but keeping his fingers inside. 

Shigaraki’s eyes widened, taking in every last inch of your perfect pussy, “Fuck,” he hissed through his teeth, shoving his hand into his pants watching as Dabi played with you. “Does it hurt inside?” He asked, not being able to keep the curiosity at bay. He often wondered, when he lay in your bed and stroked his cock, if the inside of your cunt would hurt as much as the outside must’ve.

”Fuck, yeah it does,” Dabi breathed, placing his thumb on your clit. “It’s like her pussy’s full of fuckin’ razor blades.”

Your hips jerked again at the sensitive little button being played with.

They both watched every little reaction you made with rapt attention. You wriggled weakly, attempting to get away as each whimper and sweet little moan climbed higher in pitch. Your fingers curled weakly against the bed sheets, head tilting back.

Shigaraki sucked in a breath. “I think she’s gonna—“

You were cumming, hips weakly humping the air, grinding against Dabi’s hand with every stutter.

”That’s it baby,” Dabi encouraged— patronized. His free hand stroking your hip. Shigaraki didn’t miss the way his hand twitched as he touched your skin. “Feels good don’t it?”

Your breathing was labored as you fell steadily from your orgasm.

Shigaraki stared intensely at the way your pussy clenched as Dabi dragged his fingers from you, covered in a shiny wet gloss, sticky strings connecting his fingers to your cunt.

”Let me taste.”

Dabi cocked his head towards Shigaraki, lifting a brow, “Finding loopholes already—?”

”Just let me taste,” he spat.

With a roll of his eyes, Dabi was reaching his hand out, to which a very eager Shigaraki shuffled forward. He grabbed Dabi’s wrist, lifting his pinky finger high in the air as he shoved his fingers into his mouth.

He sucked them clean, moaning at the taste. He had never tasted pussy before and it was intoxicating. He swirled his tongue around both digits, licking and sucking every last drop of your heady taste from his fingers.

”Alright,” Dabi scoffed, yanking his hand from Shigaraki mouth and tight grip, wiping his spit off on your futon,“I’m pretty sure you got it all.”

”Fuck her,” Shigaraki hissed through his teeth, smacking and licking his lips.

Dabi turned back to you, ”Hear that crybaby? Shiggy wants to see how I rail this pretty little pussy,” he started undoing his belt, “Ready to put on a show?”

You looked at him tiredly, eyelids drooping, watching but not really watching as he stood up and took off his pants. Your glassy eyes stared at his cock with no recognition behind them. 

You had no idea what the fuck was going on.

Realizing just how lost and weak you were had Shigaraki’s hands trembling as he undid his own pants to pull his cock out, gripping it the only way he alone ever has.

Dabi may have been able to touch you, why and how he may never know, but Shigaraki understood you in a way he never could.

You and him were one and the same.

Both his and your hands left a trail of carnage wherever you two went.

He barely registered Dabi moving, situating himself in a new position to fuck you silly, Shigaraki was too enraptured by those lost, glassy eyes. 

He could’ve gotten off to that look alone. He would’ve if it wasn’t for Dabi’s annoyingly raspy voice pulling him from his thoughts.

”If you wanna last more than two minutes, you may wanna slow down there boss-man.”

Shigaraki tsked in response.

Dabi was laying himself beside you, gripping your waist and turning you onto your side. He was acclimating to the pain, the sharp, stabbing sensations you caused to wrack throughout his body and make his head spin was dying down.

He was ready to take more of the punishing sensations only you could give him.

He pressed his chest flush against your back, causing another pleasantly painful thrum throughout his body, making his cock twitch against your ass.

He was hooking his hand behind your knee, opening you up, spreading you open with one leg raised in the air baring you so Shigaraki could see every detail, complete and undeniable proof that he was the only man that could fuck you like this.

Complete and undeniable proof that you belonged to him.

And if he was going to put on a show then he was going to make sure it was a worthwhile watch.

He bent his knee, hooking your leg over his as he lined himself up with your cunt. The sensitive tip against your gummy hole felt like a needle was being shoved through it.

He looked down at you, your glassy eyes stared at Shigaraki.

He grabbed you by your cheeks and turned your head, “Eyes on me,” he grunted, staring down at you as he lifted your leg again.

His heart started pounding against his ribcage as he remembered what happened the last time he shoved his cock deep inside you. The way he came without any ounce of self control, as if your cunt knew exactly what it wanted.

He stared down at your teary eyed face and sucked in a breath.

He drove his hips forward in one fluid motion, completely sheathing himself inside you, pushing past the resistant muscles in your cunt.

You cried out at the sudden pain and intrusion as Dabi shook and trembled beside you, hips spasming before stilling, emptying his balls into you.

”Ah—fuck,” he groaned raspily into your ear, pain and pleasure blending into one full bodied sensation, rendering him completely useless as he fell to the mercy of your cunt.

His head was hazy, barely registering a single fucking thing Shigaraki was going on about. 

He was done for if you ever figured out how much power your pussy had over him. He never wanted to be in another cunt ever again.

His eyes started focusing on your face once more, reveling in the tears that streamed down your cute little cheeks, and the way your pouty lips blubbered with sobs. 

He dipped down, meshing his lips with yours in another bruising kiss, drool leaking between your lips as you continued to cry into his mouth.

Dabi lifted your leg again, high into the air as he started shallowly thrusting, overstimulated and already starting to get hard, your unforgiving cunt barely giving him a chance to think clearly between orgasms.

He shoved his tongue down your throat, messily licking and moaning into your mouth.

Dabi completely forgot about Shigaraki practically kneeling over him, getting as close as he possibly could to the futon you were both on.

He was staring— leering at the point you two were connected. He watched as Dabi’s cock disappeared and reappeared inch by inch in your greedy cunt, Dabi’s creamy white seed gushing out of you the more he pumped his cock inside.

Shigaraki had to grip the base of his cock tightly so he wouldn’t cum too soon.

Dabi slowly started to increase his pace as he started to somewhat regain some of his bearings.

Fuck— the sounds.

Shigaraki moaned pitifully, leaning forward on one hand as the other matched the pace of Dabi’s thrusts on his own cock, listening to the wet slaps of skin on skin. 

If he focused hard enough he could imagine it was him that was fucking you, getting ready to blow his load in your tight cunt instead.

There was blood, tinting the white mess pink.

”’M gonna cum,” Shigaraki choked out at the sight, “‘M gonna cum on her.”

Dabi released your mouth, a string of saliva still connecting the two of you. “Wait til ‘m done.” He grunted, “You better fuckin’ hold it.”

”I’m your boss remember?” He hissed, stroking his cock faster, “I give the orders.”

”When you can put your crusty fuckin’ dick in her without keeling over, then you can give all the fuckin’ orders you want. She’s mine.”

It would have been so easy to reach a hand out and touch Dabi— watch him decay before his eyes.

But given the circumstances and the fact that he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to touch you the way Dabi could, he didn’t.

Now that he had this he couldn’t just go back to watching you around the LOV base— he couldn’t go back to only touching himself in your bed while you were out.

A particularly loud moan escaped you as Dabi angled his hips.

”Fuck, that it crybaby? That feel good?” He grunted, full attention back on you now.

He started fucking into you harder, jackhammering his cock against your g-spot.

Yours, Dabi’s, and Shigaraki’s moans and grunts bounced off the walls of the room along with the slick sounds of his cock thrusting in you to create a lewd cacophony. 

You were suddenly shaking and crying harder than before, digging your nails into the futon.

Dabi threw his head back and cursed, fucking you through your orgasm as you squeezed his cock like a vice.

Shigaraki nearly came as you squirted all over the futon.

Dabi was cumming soon after, adding more to the mess between your legs. 

The moment he came down from his own high he was pulling out in seconds, the feeling of you too intense and overstimulating now that he came twice.

”’M gonna cum on her face,” Shigaraki moaned, shuffling upwards, kneeling above you with his cock shoved inches from your face.

You stared up at him all teary eyed and lost, panting and shaking from your climax.

Seeing you part your lips, trying to say his name was all he needed to cum. White strings of sticky seed painting your pretty face and hair as his vision went white.

Refocusing his eyes he found the depraved scene before him.

It was enough to make his cock twitch again.

You sniffled, laying there covered in both his and Dabi’s cum 

“I want to touch her, how do you do it,” he panted, continuing to stare at your cum covered face.

”You don’t,” Dabi grunted, shaking beside you.

He grit his teeth. Both hands came up to scratch at his neck as he stared down at you with unforgiving eyes, watching you trembling before him. A hostility towards you and the body he couldn’t touch began growing deep within him.

”Then get it back up and fuck her again.”

”Whatever you say boss.”

[muwapsturniolo]

✯Suave✯

Summary: Chris goes into Ulta with his brothers and ends up meeting a girl

Warning: nothing really

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

Chris was irritated.

Nick decided to drag him out of bed and have him go to Ulta with him, and because neither of them could drive, Matt was also dragged out of bed.

Together they make the trip to the orange and pink store.

They walk in and are immediately met with “Daydreaming” by Harry Styles, and a girl in their face. “Hi! Welcome to Ulta! Could I help you find anything today?” The three brothers are a bit shocked at how enthusiastic she is considering it’s 11:30 am.

“Umm…no?” The girl nods and walks away, but not before saying if they need any help to come find her.

"She is a bit too enthusiastic this morning," Nick states.

“Nick what the hell are we in here for?” Matt asks rubbing over his face. They definitely feel out of place in this store. Three guys in a store filled with a bunch of girls and makeup?

They stand out.

“I needed new skincare and I didn’t want to order it!” Chris rolls his eyes before following Nick around the store. As they are walking around, Chris sees a girl dancing with whom he assumes to be her coworker. They are next to a brand that reads Lancôme, getting down to the new song over the speakers. He smiles softly and chuckles to himself. With him watching her dancing, he accidentally bumps into Nick. Nick quickly becomes irritated, “Go walk around! Stop following me like a toddler!” Chris and Matt huff before walking away from Nick.

Matt ends up in the hair section while Chris walks over to their fragrances.

He smells a few, scrunching his face up and immediately putting them down. “Did you need any help?” He jumps and turns around in shock. His eyes land on a girl in black flared pants and a pink bell sleeve blouse. Her makeup is done to perfection and her curly fro is out and extra defined.

it's the girl who was dancing.

Her name tag reads Y/N.

“Umm…I’m not sure.” She cracks a soft smile and motions to the fragrances. “Well let’s start off with this. Are you shopping for someone else or yourself?” She walks a bit closer and Chris can smell the perfume she's wearing.

She smells of vanilla.

“I’m going to be honest, my brother dragged me in here. I’m just looking.” She laughs a little bit and Chris can feel his knees buckle.

“I see, well if you ne-Could you help me pick out a fragrance?” He spits out suddenly. She’s a bit caught off guard at the switch-up, but nods anyway.

“What scents do you like?”

“Umm… maybe like woodsy and spicy?” His statement sounds more like a question, but the girl runs with it. She shows him a few fragrances, which he shakes his head at. He begins to feel bad, feeling like he's wasting her time. He just finds her pretty and wants to find an excuse to talk to her.

“Sorry for being difficult.” She shakes her head at his apology.

“No no! You’re not being difficult at all! Finding a fragrance you like can be a bit difficult, I get it.” He nods and they continue. “Ok, so this is the Versace Eros. It has a bit of citrus scent since it has Italian lemon, but it’s more spicy than anything-” he zones out and focuses on her face.

She has on a full face of makeup but she looks gorgeous. He finds himself loving the blush she has on as well as her lipgloss. "Hello?" He snaps back into reality and apologizes. "Sorry," he takes the tester strip and hums.

“I think we’re getting closer. Can we smell a few more?” The girl nods and shows him a few more. “What's your favorite fragrance?” He suddenly asks.

“For me or for men?”

“Both.” She thinks for a few seconds before showing him the Burberry Goddess. “I’m a sucker for vanilla fragrances.” He smells the fragrance and eyes her, “is this what you're wearing?” She nods and he smirks.

"Well, you smell great." his flirtatious smile makes her turn away from him, her face getting hot. He chuckles and looks at the multiple Burberry fragrances behind the glass.

“Does Burb-I’m helping a guest in Fragrance.” She cuts him off by speaking through her earpiece.

“Did they need your help?” He asks her, not wanting to hold her up for a cologne he doesn’t even need. “Yes, but I don’t want to get on register. So please keep talking.” He laughs at her words.

“Ok well, what’s your favorite fragrance for men?” He continues the conversation.

“I love Paco Rabanne and the YSL fragrances!” He nods before looking to his right. “How about the Dior suave?”

He notices her lips pursing as she tries not to laugh, “what?” He questions in confusion.

“It's sauvage.” She corrects.

He runs his hands over his face in embarrassment “Jesus Christ I sounded like a dumbass.” She chuckles before shaking her head. “You’re not the first person I heard pronounce it wrong...plus that was cute.”

To avoid facing his embarrassment and her seeing him blush, he turns and sprays the tester strip. He ends up liking this one the most and nods. “I think I want this one.”

She frowns at his pick. Chris notices the frown on her face and quirks a brow.

“What? you don’t like this one?” He holds up the tester bottle.

“Honest opinion?”

He nods, “Don’t tell my manager I swore but, I fucking hate that fragrance. It’s so basic and overhyped! Almost every guy I know wears it. Have some originality. I would hate if the guy I was talking to wore it.”

Chris can’t help but joke with her, “What, so you wouldn't like if I wore it?"

“i-i mean i don't think it would smell bad on you." she nervously states. she was never good when it came to flirting, always awkwardly responding.

“Well, I want to make sure when I take you out I'm wearing a cologne that smells appealing to you."

She fights back the smile that wants to form on her face. before he can say anything to him, Chris continues.

"How about this. I’ll buy one of the fragrances you recommend for me if I can get your phone number.” Chris is a bit shocked at his own words. He'd never flirted this much in his life, but it's something about her.

Y/n stares at him with unreadable eyes.

She’s had guys ask for her number while at work but most of the time their girlfriends are with them, or they are shopping for them. She usually turns them down and goes straight to the backroom to gossip with her coworkers about it. But Chris was different, he didn't just flat out ask for her number, he technically asked her out.

Without saying anything, she walks away from him.

Chris stands in fragrance, baffled and scared. He rushes towards his brothers who are still in the hair section.

"We have to leave right now!" Chris urges. Both Nick and Matt look at him confused. "what wh-I flirted with one of the workers and she walked away from me after I asked her out! I came on pretty hard and I'm scared she's gonna tell her manager I'm harassing her!"

"You're such a fucking idiot!" Matt can't help but laugh at the whole situation. "Yes I'm an idiot! Matt stop laughing or I swe-" Chris is cut off by someone tapping his shoulder. He turns around and sees Y/n. he stares with wide eyes, his mouth opening and closing.

"I think you would like this one." She holds up a red box, the words on it reading Ralph Lauren. his eyes land on the box before he looks back at her, "So you're not going to yell at me for harassment?"

"Harassment?"

"You walked away and I thought you were going to tell your manager or something that I was harassing you. I was trying to flirt."

She giggles at his anxious thoughts, "No. I just don't handle flirting well so I tend to look uncomfortable. And I walked away to get the keys for the fragrance lock. Did I not say that?"

Chris shakes his head, "No you straight up walked away." Now she looks embarrassed. "Sorry, I thought I told you what I was doing. I must have replied in my head." Chris relaxes at her statement and smiles. She notices the two other boys behind Chris and straightens up,

“Were you all done shopping?” it's almost scary how fast she switched back to her customer service voice. "Yeah, are you able to check us out?"

She walks them over to the salon register and signs in with her numbers. “Can I get a phone number?” The boys tense and eye each other.

“Do we have to?”

“No, that’s perfectly fi-it would definitely benefit you! You would earn points which is money off later and you get your coupons with a free birthday gift!” Y/n glares as one of her coworkers approaches them. The boys can see the annoyance of y/n face and watch the interaction. “Layla, do me a favor and stay out of my transaction.” Y/n snips back.

"I'm just trying to he-I’ll sign up,” Chris states. “Good!” The coworker looks at Y/n with a smug look on her face. “I’ll be sure to let Jenna know your loyalty percentage went up.” She walks away.

Y/n mimics her, mumbling under her breath. “I’ll be sure to let Jenna know! Fucking bitch.” A snicker catches her attention and she turns back towards the boys, a look of fright on her face. She forgot they were there and they might tell her manager about her vulgar language. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to do all-Girl you’re good. I probably would have cussed her out. I hated working retail.” Nick states waving her off. She visibly relaxes at his words.

“You guys don’t have to sign up by the way.” Chris shakes his head, “We don’t want you to get in trouble with Jenna.” His voice has a joking tone and she smiles softly.

Chris gives his phone number, signing up for the loyalty program.

Seeing her manager walk buy, she does the pitch.

“Did we want to sign up for the Ulta card? You would get 20% off and double the points. You were pre-approved and it says it would take off $90.” Nick goes to decline for Chris but he speaks up, “I’ll do it. Might as well save.” He does the signup and gets the Mastercard.

“Alright, you were approved for the Mastercard. You can use it anywhere such as a gas station, a grocery store, or even online, and still get double the points here.” She wraps up the transaction and packs their bags.

She grabs a pamphlet that has all the info about the card and quickly writes on it.

She hands Matt the bag and gives Chris the pamphlet. “Have a nice day, and thank you for shopping at Ulta.”

The boys thank her and start walking out the store.

As they are walking out Chris looks through the pamphlet, he sees a phone number in the corner and a little note.

“Wear the polo on our date.”

He chuckles to himself and climbs into the car.

“Thanks for dragging me out of bed Nick.”

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

Random idea I came up with that I fell in love with 😭 I work at Ulta so this was a breeze to write. I fr wanna make this like a plot that yall can send in requests for! Let me know what yall think and send in requests if you think about anything!!!

TAGLIST🍑

@bernardsgf @bernardsleftbootycheek @blahbel668 @mattfrfr @gdsvhtwa @sturniolo-aali @lily-loves-struniolos @kynda-avery @causeidontlikeagoldrush

@st7rnioioss @carolinalikesthings @mattslolita @suyqa @xxloveralways14 @pepsiimaxx @judespoision

@ivonchetooo1239 @imaslut4kehlani @that-general-simp @m4stermindd @itzdarling @gigisworldsstuff @adoreindie @braindead4l @pettydollie @chrissgirlsstuff @alexis007 @ratatioulle @yamamasjumpercables @luv4kozume @sturnioloslurps @kqyslyho3

[skyahri]

So..? |Kakashi Hatake X Civilian! Reader| HC

Summary: Kakashi finally musters up the courage to ask you out.

Warnings: Nothing, really. Pretty tame. Civilian reader.

- - - - -

You worked in the hospital. It was nothing spectacular; the shifts are long, it can get a bit over crowded, and sometimes you don't even have time for a meal, but it's honest work.

You were decent with medical ninjutsu. You could heal cuts and bruises, but anything more was outside your skill set.

You have your fair share of regulars, Kakashi being one of them.

Sometimes, he's in and out - just there for a few stitches or a mandatory check-up after a long mission. Sometimes it's longer, like after his battle with Itachi or the Kazekage's retrieval.

You scold him every time for being reckless.

"Kakashi, you know what happens when you overuse your sharingan. Can't you at least try to be a bit more careful?"

He always dismisses you, promising that everything he does it put of 100% necessity.

You roll your eyes and fix him up regardless.

Its a lucky thing that you always end up taking care of him, or at least you think it is.

He's actually using his social pull to end up wherever you are. Kakashi Hatake, the copy cat ninja, is very well known and has earned more favors than he could ever cash in.

He remembers the first time he met you - it was several years ago, in this very hospital. He'd been injured during one of his Anbu missions and needed some critical care.

The hospital was swamped that day, and you were new. He could tell by how anxious you were. It was lucky that you had ended up with him, someone who wasn't picky about his treatment and wasn't bothered by nerves.

There was something about you, though he wasn't sure what. Yes, you're pretty, but he's seen lots of pretty girls. Maybe it was the confidence you emitted despite the cluster of the environment. Maybe it was the gentle way you touched him as yo wrapped his arm or the feeling of your chakra on his skin.

Either way, it stuck with him, and all the feelings he felt have only intensified over time.

Which is where we are now.

Eventually, he sees you outside of the hospital. A rare sight, really. He's perfectly healthy, between missions, and not being dragged around by his students for once.

Your last shift of the week just ended. You're carrying home your weekly grocery haul when he spots you and basically demands to carry some most of your bags.

He tries to chat you up, along about work, hobbies... potential partners?

"So what have you been doing outside of work, hm? Interesting... I see. And you do all of this by yourself, or..?"

You laugh, knowing he's fishing for specific information. He already knows you pretty well after seeing him so often at work. Maybe he forgot that fact in his stupor.

However, slick Kakashi thinks he's been all this time, knock it down by 60%.

You may not be a shinobi like him, but you're very well aware of people.

"No, Kakashi, I don't have a boyfriend."

He plays it off. Shoving his hands in his pockets and pretends not to be borderline giddy at this newfound information.

Once you reach your apartment, you have no problem allowing him entry so he can set your groceries down on your counter.

He looks around while you put things away. Everything embodied you perfectly. The plants, the color scheme, the decor. It was perfect.

Once you're finished, he becomes nervous again.

"So..."

"So?" You ask expectantly.

"Would you wanna meet up with me sometime? As a thank you for all you've done for me over the years, of course."

"Of course," you mock him lightly, crinkling your nose.

"I'd love to."

He let's out an animated breath.

"I'll pick you up tonight at 6? We can head to..."

The plans are set. Now, it's just a matter of patience before this long-awaited date.

Although you've been looking forward to this day for so many years, the anxiety is still there, and you're wondering how it'll go and if he likes you.

Little did you know he's having the same thoughts.

What if you didn't like him? What if he just damaged your friendship (could it even be called that considering how confined they had been to the hospital?) and now he's lost someone else because he's stupid?

Only time will tell, so may as well just shove down the nerves and prepare for what could be the beginning of something great.

[chiscaralight]

I saw on your Masterlist (I need to make one😭🤣) that no one has requested Star Rail from you, yet. So allow me to be the first. I don't really ask people to write requests for me, but 👀

Bondage and degrading/teasing praise with Aventurine. Creampie. Cumming inside someone who is all delicate and tied up for him would be a very intimate and deep experience for him, I feel. And whatever other kinks you want to put in.

💜 Hearts and flowers for you.

u guys dont understand how much i love seeing this username on this app. anything for u bae😖and take your time with the masterlist! i just wanted to have one cus I like keeping my work somewhere I don't have to search for it everytime lol. and here we go!

nsfw!aventurine x reader, creampie, reader is kinda overstimulated the entire time. emotional aven, they’re just soft and in love 😞 he cries too

you’re such a sight to behold. wrists bound up to the posts of the bed, completely at mercy to the man above you. the sweetest part is that you let him. you’re allowing him to have him like you like this. even as your eyes are closed and his lips drag slowly down between the valley of your breasts, over your belly button and stopping just above your dripping cunt, he still thinks you’re the most wonderful thing that’s happened to him.

he makes sure that you know, too. when he’s not using his tongue to abuse your pulsating hole, he uses it to spill every word of praise he knows. aventurines hands are tight against your thighs, holding them apart to give him just enough space to duck his head back down into your warmth. it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted, and your sweet noises cause him to moan into you. it’s almost torture that you’re not able to touch him, but your mind is clouded by the pleasure he’s so ready to give you.

and he kisses up the same path with the same love he did the first time. his lips are soft against yours and your taste is still heavy. it’s not like you care, you’re just glad he’s this close again. you can feel his erection rubbing against your belly as his tongue slides over yours again. you pout as he pulls back, so he graces you with one final peck.

he’s drawing off the top of you so he can align himself with your slit. he’s calculated and slow with the way he pushes in. he doesn’t want to hurt you, he’d never forgive himself if he did in any capacity, even if it was just a mistake. your eyes open with a gasp and meet his. they’re watching you closely, so you smile. that beautiful smile that has him falling in love all over again.

you’re so beautiful in every way. his hand holds your face as he starts to move, and your voice is just as gorgeous as you call out his name. aventurine is pressing soft kisses against your shoulder as he rolls against you. but it’s not enough.

“aven, please-please. i wanna touch you.”

he groans. who is he to resist his darling like that? so he’s reaching up to let one of the ribbons slip. you’re so quick to pull your hand away from the frame and wrap around him; to draw him closer. if this was all he was going to give, you’re going to take it. you’re moving your face close to yours, and you can feel every breath. the heat from his mouth, the rising and falling of his chest. it’s so overwhelming, so perfect.

his hand is resting strongly on your thigh that’s settled on his waist. his grip is tightening now, and his breath is getting erratic and you can tell he’s about to cum. so with the space you have, you shift to press your lips against his. it’s an action he welcomes with open arms, and it sends that feeling straight down as his orgasm comes hard. he’s almost whining into your mouth as he ruts into you. he doesn’t stop, and you swear you can feel a certain wetness against your skin.

so you whisper for him to let your other arm go. he can’t even look up to you as he does. your second arm is stroking his hair. his cries are a little louder now, but he’s not sad. he’s happy, so happy it’s you. when he finally does pull back to see your face, your expression is so full of love that he starts to tear up again. this time he’s the one tightening his hold around you.

[palajae]

see you later.

PAIRING... jungwon x reader | GENRE... boyfriend!jungwon, established relationship!au, fluff, humor | WC... 0.5k | mentions of drinks | ”well that’s awkward."

“you know, you really need to get out of the house more,” your roommate chaewon suggests. 

you only grunt in response. 

she puts her hands on her hips. “are you even listening?” 

“yes?”

she sighs. “i swear you are the most antisocial person there is out there. when’s the last time you hung out with us, let alone another person in general?” 

you shrug. “a week or two?”

“you’re not even the slightest bit interested in meeting new people? dating?”

you finally sit up, lazily combing your bed head. “not currently at the moment, no.” 

she pulls you up out of bed, almost dragging you across the floor. “you need to go out more. make more friends and maybe even go out on a date with someone! i can even set you up if you want,” she rambles on but you tune her out.

“no thank you,” you crinkle your nose. “i appreciate the effort chaewon but really, i’m not interested. i’ve got everything i need.”

she quirks an eyebrow. “what? like three friends, including me?” 

you nod. “yep. now if you’ll excuse me, i do actually have somewhere to go.” 

she opens her mouth and you hold a hand to object, “no, not the bathroom.”

“alright, well me and yuna are going to get some drinks if you wanna stop by later.” 

she gives up—as she normally does—and leaves as you get ready to go out as well. 

as you enter the cafe, you’re greeted by a pleasant sight, causing you to smile. 

“won!”

your long time boyfriend greets you with a hug, his lovely grin on display for you (and you only). 

“i missed you, dear. how’s school?”

you sigh, “busy. you know i was stuck studying all last week. i couldn’t see you once.” 

jungwon takes your hand, “let’s get our drinks and you can tell me about your week as we walk. okay?”

you nod happily. 

drinks in hand, you make your way to the exit. as jungwon places a kiss to the top of your head, you come to a halt as you realize who’s in front of you. 

your eyes widen, jungwon stopping involuntarily because of you and turning to face you with a questioning look. 

chaewon and yuna look back at the two of you with equally stunned expressions. 

they gape, stuttering and pointing as you cringe. 

“guys…”

“there’s actually no way.” 

“you’re kidding, right?”

“well that’s awkward,” your boyfriend simply comments and you fight the urge to elbow him.  

“uh,” you swallow, “meet my boyfriend-?”

“wait,” chaewon narrows her eyes, “how long have you been dating?” 

you scratch the back of your head, “maybe like… three years?” you can basically see their eyes bulge out of their heads. 

as they splutter, you exchange looks with jungwon before offering a weak, 

“surprise?”

a/n ▸ missed writing for won…

MAIN TAGLIST ▸ @precioussoulofmine @kynrki @heesterical @jungwonize @rerequire @nvertheless @duolingofanaccount @hoeshii @love-4-keum @luvhyun3 @dimplewonie @yjjungwon @who-tf-soddhi @microwvdstrawb3rri3s @asteria-wood @noajakah236482 @enhacatalog @june-pop @ohsjy

@lvyvsrk1

@kflixnet

[poppy-metal]

hnngnngnggggnnn Patrick being a spoiled little rich boy <3

need to be his sugar baby :( getting to lounge around his mansion and use his black card at any shops you want as long as your mouth or pussy or ass are available to him whenever he wants :((

his little free use girlfriend who he parades around at important events in skimpy dresses that make people stare at you in shock, all so he has easier access to lift up your skirt or tug down the top and reveal your tits if the whim arises :((((

#needthat

need to be rich!patrick zweigs bratty sugar baby. need to be his little mistress because he never separated from his family and grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth and became pro at tennis and became like all the other boring fucking older men at his fathers country club he swore he'd never be. need him to hate his life and how easy everything was to obtain and how his marriage is loveless and she doesn't even put out and his kids are rich little brats he can't connect with because they're little ipad kids, absolute demons, they wont go outside with him they dont wanna learn to play tennis or any sport or run around and make stick and dirt soup like he did when he was a kid and life is so fucking boring everything is in grays - until he meets you.

at a bar one night. its not the first time hes cheated on his wife - but it might be the first time he's fallen in love. he sees you and wants to fuck you immediately. already decides he'll have your panties around one ankle while he shoves a tongue up your cunt in the bathroom stall - he buys you a drink and you let him. you're sweet and flirty and you draw him in like a bee to a pretty flower - he's subconsciously leaning in, eyes can't stop dropping to your lips.

things take a turn though when you get up to leave and he blinks because he didn't mean to get swept up in the conversation - chases after you to try again - to take you back to a hotel or even in the back of his car - but you tell him no.

he just looks at you. confused. hard. "no." he repeats. rolls it around in his head. foreign. hasn't heard it much before. it sounds sweet coming from your lips.

"you're not fucking me." you tell him simply.

that shouldn't turn him on but it does. he's not stupid. you were attracted to him. he'd seen the way you looked at him - bitten your lip. he knows he's not projecting, because even now you're smiling as you say it.

he rubs a thumb over his bottom lip as he checks you over. strappy heels, but cheap. tight little bodysuit, but not designer. flashy purse but he knows the diamonds on it are fake.

ah.

"you in college?"

you smooth a hand down your hair. "sophomore year."

he nods, leans against the brick building of the bar. fishes in his coat pocket for his packet of cigarettes. "what're you studying?" he flips the box open, slides a cig out - brings it to his lips.

you eye him curiously as he roots for his lighter next - trying and failing to ignore the heat in your belly at how good this man looks leaning against something with a cigarette dangling from his lips.

"we already did the small talk, dude. you're not getting any."

he ignores that. lights his cigarette and inhales. he likes that you're obviously irritated but you dont move away. he blows smoke through his nose. says again, "what're you studying."

you huff. roll your eyes. he watches you calmly, taking drags his cig. in the cool night air you can't tell the exact shade of his eyes, but you think they're green. everything about him screams money and dominance.

you cross your arms. "law." short but simple.

he nods like that makes sense, flicks ash.

"that's good." he says it in a way that sounds like he means it but also could be condescending and you dont know why that makes you swallow deeply. "expensive, though."

you narrow your eyes.

"you think im poor?"

usually someone would fumble after being called out like that but patrick just smiles in a way that says he knows you are -

"i know you're not rich."

you bristle. that hurts. you don't know why. who wants to look rich, anyway. fucking snobs. but still, its embarrassing to be told the distinction in class is obvious to someone else who's far far above you. you can already tell the watch hes wearing costs more than the apartment you can barely afford.

"thanks for the unasked for observation, dickhead." you yank your purse strap higher on your shoulder, make to turn away. "I'd say its been pleasant but well, it hasn't. so."

you make it a couple steps before he calls out -

"I'll pay it."

you're alot of things. you're haughty and stubborn and yeah, not rich. you're also down on your luck and struggling and drowning in so many things in the moment - barely being able to afford your own fucking beer at this point when what you wanted to accomplish in life would take thousands, thousands of dollars. so hearing the word 'pay'. well, yeah. it makes you turn around to face the guy.

"you'll what?"

he knows you heard. it was cute how you perked right up.

"I'll pay it." he gestures towards you. "all of it - your semester. your tuition. textbooks. whatever else you need."

you gawk at him.

the thing is. he's attractive. alarmingly so. disarmingly really. he's tall and broad and he dresses well. he has that perfectly styled hair and deep rich man scent that makes your mouth water. a beautiful face with a rouge kind of touch. you'd have fucked a man like him under any normal circumstance, but given the way your life is going at the moment - you haven't the time to waste on pretty men with big dicks.

probably. he probably has a big dick.

"you're fucking kidding me."

"nah." he licks his bottom lip. takes another drag. flicks more ash to the pavement. he looks at you like he's already imagining you naked in front of him. "I'm good for it."

"well duh." you look him up and down. "you look like you just stepped out of a magazine for mens wealth or whatever. why the fuck are you offering? you expect me to suck your dick for it or something?"

you say the last part sarcastically, rolling your eyes - but patrick just looks at you seriously. sucks the humor right from your bones when he says - "yeah, i do."

two things happen in your body.

firstly, you stiffen. the urge to slap him for being so derogatory making your fingers twitch at your sides. your face burns.

secondly and most apparently, your cunt throbs. your nipples tighten. you inhale sharply in a way patrick notices. smirks at.

you blink at him several times.

"i can't believe you just seriously said that to me." you say it kind of breathlessly. you really can't believe it though.

"should i be more clear?" he takes one step towards you. "i want to fuck you - you want to fuck me, but you won't do it for free. I'm offering to pay you for it."

"i - im not a whore."

the grin patrick gives you makes a tremble shoot through your whole body. you feel it in your toes.

"you sure about that?"

you really should slap him.

you dont.

you fumble, "you're married." you'd spotted the ring at the bar earlier. it hadn't been the reason you turned him down initially, but still.

"you dont care about that."

fuck.

"you cant just...... buy whatever you want. im a person."

he nods. he's done with his cigarette so be crushes it beneath his boot. "give me your hand." he just takes it anyway. you watch dumbly as he gets a pen from his pocket - how many things did he have in his fucking pocket? - bites the cap off, and brings the tip to your palm. "this is the number for my personal phone."

of course he had multiple phones. he doesn't let go of your hand when he's done writing. rubs his thumb into the pulse point at your wrist.

"when you change your mind -" when not if. "- i want you to call me."

you go to pull your hand away, but patrick squeezes it.

"one more thing."

he's close enough the spicy mint scent of him fills your nose. he dips his head so he's closer to your ear, you feel the stubble on his chin graze your cheek -

"when you let me fuck you - you will be a cheap whore. you'll let me do what I want to you. and i know its not because of the money. but i understand what its like to need something to let yourself have something else." he turns his head. kisses your cheek. "don't take too long to call, though. I'm not a patient man."

[sapchat]

We Are Not Our Fathers

Azriel x Reader

Summary: You get summoned to your mate and Cassian whilst they are on a mission, only to find out there was a surprise at the end of it.

Warnings: mentions of a fight, children, and an argument between two lovers.

Words: 5k

Part 1: You are here! Part 2

Fun fact: this is technically my third fanfic now, cuz I’ve got a part one for something else and I’m writing part two, I just got this idea yesterday while listening to this playlist and was like “I need angst, azriel, his mate and a child.”

Azriel and Cassian had been at one of the Illyrian camps investigating rumors of… something. You hadn’t been paying attention when your mate told you why, he’d been getting dressed while telling. So, you could see the distraction at the time. It had been at least two hours since your mate had left and you got summoned down the bond, and a shadow seemed to tug at your hand.

So, following the bond you appeared in a typical Illyrian Steppes living room, with Azriel at the top of the steps.

“Hey, we uh, need you up here. We thought we were done but Cass found someone.” Azriel said meeting me at the bottom of the steps and grabbing a hand, rubbing his fingers on my wrist. He picked the habit up a few years into our bond, he says it keeps him grounded, especially after or during missions like these. Nodding my head, I followed the narrow steps behind him to see Cassian standing in the doorway of one of the rooms, there was a smidge of blood on the side of a wall, so I wasn’t sure what I was going to walk in on.

A little winged child was not what I was expecting. Cassian looked at me sheepishly then nodded to the side so the three of us could talk.

“So, I’m going to assume we didn’t know there was a child here?” I asked leaning against the wall.

“From what we could tell there were no reports of a child when we first started getting reports of the retaliation happening. My shadows also didn’t pick up on a child when we got here, so either he was just hiding really well because of the guests in the house, or he snuck in.” Azriel responded.

“Any idea how much he heard? Or what does his parental situation look like?” I asked, I needed to know how bad this situation could be. Especially if this child doesn’t have a family because of its father’s or mother’s choices.

“For the most part, some of them went easy. Only three of ‘em put up any real fight, hence some of the blood there by your head,” Cassian started.

“Ew, thanks for telling me that one.” I’ll just shuffle to the side.

“As for a possible guardian, he hasn’t answered any questions. He did call me a bastard though, so I guess he has listened to something while around them.” Cassian finished. He seemed almost more stressed than I. I assume because he’s become quite partial to being babysitter for Nyx in the last few months for Feyre and Rhysand to be able to go out.

“What do you think, he’s probably what four, maybe five. You have more experience in working with kids, and with Madja, what do you think his outcome is with what he’s been dealt.” Azriel asked, dragging a scarred hand down his face.

“All children are different. One could experience something awful like the death of a parent and not remember anything about it. Others could never recover from it and grow up acting out the rest of their lives. It’s just a matter of how they get help. And knowing this camp, they probably won’t get much mental help at all. You two should know that” It’s not what they wanted to hear I imagine, but it was the truth. “So, what’s the plan? I assume if you have summoned me here you want me to go talk to him?”

“Yea actually, that’s exactly what so thanks for offering that so we don’t have to ask.” Cassian states rubbing the back of his head. Little shit.

Sighing, I turn my eyes to my mates, who just shrugged. I’ve been left here with the two most awkward people when it comes to random kids. Such a surprise came from the man-child Cassian himself. I roll my eyes, but send something to calm down the bond, and turn to go into the room.

The child is on the smaller side, evidence of the winter that’s still in the mountains so it’s evident his family doesn’t have much money for food. He’s got some dirt on his clothes so he’s either been out playing today or he just doesn’t have many clothing options. His wings were on the smaller side for what we assume his age group is, so he either is just going to have slightly smaller wings, or he’s developmentally delayed for his possible age. Probably due to the lack of food and hygiene.

I step slowly into the room, trying to make my slightly tall frame smaller. “Hi there. What’s your name?”

The little boy looked at me with wide hazel eyes, a twinkle in it that I couldn’t tell meant he was scared or intrigued by my presence. “Hawthorne.”

“Hawthorne huh?” You ask, then tell him your name, “Are you okay Hawthorne?” I ask him, he sits up just a little taller, a twitch in his bat-like wing following after.

He nodded his head in response, and I nodded back in understanding. “I was wondering who you were here with buddy? It’s okay if I call you buddy, right?”

“I was with my daddy. and I don’t know if you can call me buddy. Daddy’s usually the only one that does. Daddy said it’s cause we’re friends, but I don’t know you.” He answers sheepishly looking around my body towards the end, telling me I have a shadow, likely two of them.

“Well, if I tell you something about me, and then you tell me something, then we would be friends, wouldn’t we?” He hesitates, thinking about the question then nods his head quickly.

“Okay, well you know my name already,” I say then move to sit on the corner of the bed and make it seem like I’m thinking about my fact, “One of my favorite things ever, is getting to go and watch the sunrise or sunset as it comes up or down, and it shine on the soft snow. It’s really pretty.” I say, his head perks up a little at what I tell him.

“I like that too! I also like it when it storms, 'cause that means I don’t have to go out and I get to stay inside with my daddy.” He says. I smile at his enthusiasm of getting to share something we both like.

“I’ll tell you another secret then.” His eyes get really wide, and I feel a questioning brush through the bond. “I also like it when it storms. Because that means I get to stay inside with my friends.”

“Are they your friends?” Hawthorne asks looking at Cassian and Azriel behind me.

“Yeah, those are my really good friends, Cassian and Azriel. They… came to talk to the people that were downstairs. Did you know them?” I ask, glancing at the two males behind me, who are trying to seem small, but with the size of Cassian and Azriel’s wings. They’re failing.

“It was my daddy and their friends. I heard lots of yelling. And that they called your friends bastards. So, I did when they came up here. Where is my daddy?” I looked at Azriel for an answer, he looked down and then at Hawthorne.

“We took your father somewhere so we could talk with them. Do you have a mother we could take you to? Or anyone else.” Azriel answered the child.

Hawthorne shook his head no, “Daddy says mommy died when I was little, even smaller than now. And daddy says I’m the only thing he has left. But I think that’s silly 'cause we have neighbors!”

I sigh and look at my mate and Cassian, I then look back to the hallway and back to the child, “Hawthorn I’m going to go talk with my friends really quick, are you okay here?” The boy nods his head and watches as the three of us leave the room.

It’s now my turn to rub my hands down my face. “What do we do with him? I assume mom either died in childbirth or from sickness. And now we’ve got dad where he’s going to probably be punished for what they’ve been planning.”

Cassian almost winces at the last part, “His father was one of the people to put up a fight. We’ve got him in Hewn City right now, one of the others said he’s the ring leader for wanting to try and get rid of Rhys, and ‘go back to the old ways.’”

“Gotta love males and their ever-needing reason to be on top,” Azriel said laying back against the wall across from me, one of his feet resting between my ankles.

“We asked Rhys what he thought. He thinks it should be up to you.” Cassian said.

I processed the question for a second. Thinking about the options that are available. If Hawthorne stays, he’ll be homeless, wandering the streets like Cassian did; and based on how he looks already, he probably wouldn’t last long. Or taking him with us. To Velaris and trying to find him a place there. He could stay in the House of Wind until we find somewhere or someone.

I look at Azriel and he nods, knowing what I’m going to decide. If I had it my way, there would be no children wandering the roads here in the camps. But the orphanage idea has been slow, Devlon the only one wanting to even entertain the idea.

“Take him with us. He’ll be better off in Velaris, and until we can find somewhere permanent, he can stay in the House with us all.” I say, Cassian nods knowing I’m making the decision based on what he’s told me of his past before Rhys and his mother.

“Looks like you’ll get a friend Cassian, I’ll be sure to set up playdates.” Azriel says pushing off the way and patting his brother on the back.

Cassian had a shocked look on his face, eyes following Azriel as he followed me back into the room Hawthorne was patiently waiting in.

“Hey, Hawthorne? How about you come with me and my friends for a little bit, until we can see if your father gets into trouble, okay?” I asked going in and sitting on his bed, angling my body to be eye level with the winged boy. He seemed to sit and think about it for a second, then spared Azriel a questioning look before looking back at me.

“Will I still get to do my training?”

My eyes widen just a tad. Training at five? I look over my shoulder to Cassian and Azriel in question.

“Yeah me, and Cassian can help with that. We’re both really going at flying so we can help you learn some.” Azriel told the child, putting a lot of emphasis on them being so good at flying. This seemed to make the boy happy.

“Okay then. I guess I’ll come with you. But I get to bring my toys!”

“We wouldn’t expect you to leave them behind buddy. Now where are your clothes?” I said standing from the bed and ruffling my fingers through his dark brown almost black hair.

Hawthorne jumped from the bed, his little wings flapping as he did, and ran to the dresser in the corner of the room. He pulled open a drawer almost at eye level and grabbed what little clothes sat in there. “Here they are!” He ran back over and handed them to me. He only had two shirts and another pair of pants, plus only a few pairs of undergarments.

I looked in the direction of my mate and he nodded at what I was thinking. We’ll have to get him some more clothes. I held my hand out and Azriel summoned a bag from the shadows and handed it to me. I usually use it for the farmers market, but I’ll just get a new one.

“Okay, bubs, come here and I’ll hold you while Azriel takes us back to the house.” The boy hopped over with a questioning look on his face.

“He’s going to fly both of us to your house?”

“Nope! He’s going to do something called winnow, which means,” I sat for a second thinking how to explain this to a child, “he’ll grab my and Cassian's hand, and then we’ll disappear and then reappear in the house!” Yeah, that was a great explanation.

Hawthorne seemed to question it for a second, then came over and all but crawled up into my arms. I moved the bag to my shoulder and then joined Azriel and Cassian. The three of us all looked at each other as if questioning what I’d decided.

And into the shadows we went, only for Azriel to then grab onto me tighter to glide us down to the balcony of the House of Wind. Hawthorne gripped my neck tighter looking around at all he could see of Velaris. And I knew I had made a good decision for the boy.

Feet touching the ground Hawthorne all but leaped from my arms to run and look over the balcony, pulling himself up by using his feet on the spindles to gain leverage to look out. Mouth opening by the second, I leaned back against Az watching the boy. He’s never seen so many people at once living in such a beautiful place.

“Hawthorne, wanna go get a quick snack before we get you cleaned up in a tub?” I asked leaving my mates front to join the boy at the railing. He looked up at me with wide eyes before looking back out towards the Sidra. “It’ll all still be here when we’re done. And if you’re not tired then you can even see it once the sun goes down. It looks even better.” He turned back with a slightly toothless grin and nodded enthusiastically, jumping from the side, and gripping my hand swinging from it.

Walking into the sitting room I walked the boy towards the kitchen. Already sitting on the counter was a little dinner for the boy, the House instantly knowing what was needed of it. I helped him up onto a stool he quickly dug into his dinner.

“Easy now, don’t want to eat too fast and make yourself sick,” I advised brushing a finger across his back. I walked around the counter and grabbed a small cup and filled it with water so he could drink as well.

Once he was done eating, he quickly gulped down the water and brushed his mouth on his hand, then proceeded to wipe the hand on his shirt. Boys. I grabbed him before he had a chance to run off and walked him up to mine and Azriel’s bathing room where Az sat pouring a few drops of bubbles into the bath.

I set Hawthorne down on the ground and allowed him to undress so he could climb in the bath and gave my mate a quick peck on the cheek in thanks. Admiration flowed down his side of the bond as I leaned over and started wetting Hawthorne’s hair. He splashed around a little playing with the bubbles as I washed the grime off of him.

Once I was done, I grinned and grabbed a handful of bubbles and placed them on his head. The little Illyrian quickly looked up at me and proceeded to grin. And without a moment's notice he flapped his wings in the water spraying water all over me.

We both sat in silence for a little bit, me in shock and him with a look that said, ‘Uh oh’. Then I started laughing, and Hawthorne quickly realized he wasn’t in trouble for getting water over me.

After his bath, and the fight of drying him off, and the battle of getting him dressed. I did as I had promised and walked him back to one of the balconies so he could watch the ending of the sunset and all the lights of Velaris come on. We sat quickly, him in amazement, me writing down some reports to send to Rhys in the morning.

It was in the middle of the night I was awoken to one of Azriels shadows, Azriel rousing from sleep himself and moving a wing off of me to see what was happening. Then I heard soft padding down the hall, and a shuffling of wings. I then heard the door move a bit as someone jumped and grabbed the doorknob, and the door quietly moved open.

Raising our heads, we were greeted with Hawthorne sniffling as he waddled into the room. He looked up at the two of us from the foot of the bed, glancing back and forth. I glanced at Azriel and silently asked if he’d allow the boy in the bed with us.

Azriel looked at me, then flopped back on his stomach and grumbled “Once you feed them and let them sleep in the bed, they end up staying. Look at Cass.”

I lightly slapped his arm and raised up more and nodded to my side of the bed. Hawthorne quickly shuffled over and climbed his way into the bed and my arms. “Wanna talk about it?” I quietly asked.

He shook his head and placed his wet face into my neck. I hummed an okay and moved the blankets back over us and went back to sleep, Azriel’s wing shifting back over as he moved around.

In the morning I awoke to an empty bed, not unusual with Az doing morning training, but I distinctly remember a little boy crawling into the bed in the night as well.  

Climbing out of bed, a shadow greeted me happily and started leading me in the direction of the living room; and was greeted by Cassian holding the boy in the air telling him to get ready, and Azriel sat in a chair drinking tea.

“If he breaks something Cassian, you get to tell Rhys.” I said, walking further into the room and joining Azriel on the armrest, his hand wrapping around my hip and patting it. Azriel tilted his head in a way saying, ‘That’ll be fun’ and went back to his morning readings.

“Hey, we learn to fly by being dropped from different heights, I figured you prefer it in the living room, where he could land on the couch.” The general replied, letting go of the boy and allowing him to flap-glide his way to the couch in question.

I let the two continue and looked down to my mate, “Wanna join me in the kitchen, so we could talk about H-A-W-T-H-O-R-N-E’s F-A-T-H-E-R?” He nodded his head and took my hand to lead me in the direction of said room. Already on the counter was my breakfast, courtesy of the house which I thanked, and a steaming glass of coffee.

“I went earlier this morning. He’s not wanting to give us anything. Rhys wants to make an example of them.” Azriel said going straight to the point. I looked up from putting jam on my toast, my eyes trailing to the sounds of the child’s laughter and Cassians' praise.

“What about Hawthorne?”

Azriel sighed, already knowing I wasn’t going to let this go without a fight. Either with him or our High Lord. “Rhys is going to leave that up to you. His recommendation thought was to find someplace around Velaris so he wouldn’t be in a camp where issues may arise in the future. When he’s older.”

I looked sharply up at what he said. “What is that supposed to mean?” I made sure to keep my voice somewhat low so as to not raise attention to us.

“We both know what he means. He’s just trying to cover future bases because he has Nyx now.” Azriel tried to calm down, resting a hand on top of mine. I pulled it back from him immediately.

“No Azriel I don’t know what you mean. He’s a child what are you two trying to say?” I was angry. He’s five, if that. What was there to possibly worry about to ‘keep an eye on him in the future.’

Azriel said your name then continued, “His father was plotting to get a group of people to kill Rhys. Maybe worse.” Azriel almost seemed angry at the position I had taken, in defending this threat against his High Lord. But the threat was a child.

I glared at Azriel and all but snarled when I said, “Sons are NOT their fathers Azriel. You of all people should know that.” I even pointed in his direction for emphasis on my statement, his hazel eyes going wide in surprise at it. Shock and hurt flowed down the bond, and I pushed my feelings of anger towards him.

Turning I leave my breakfast to go join Cassian and the deemed threat in the other room to watch him stretch his wings.

It was later in the evening, after playing with the child and having Cassian take us down to the shopping district so he could have more clothes that I had finally let myself think about the argument from earlier in the day. I had already put Hawthorne to bed almost two hours ago and was down in the kitchen sipping wine. Setting the glass down on the counter I ran my hands down my face in frustration, and then came some shuffling.

Turning my head, I expected Azriel but found Hawthorne. Bleary-eyed from what little sleep he got. “Hey, what are you doing back up, it’s late.”

The little dark-haired child rubbed his eyes, his other hand gripping a little black cat stuffed animal he begged to have. “I have trouble sleeping in the bed. It’s super soft.” His eyebrows furrowed together and then he said, “The shadows also keep me awake by playing with my hair.”

A few of Azriel’s shadows had taken a little liking to the boy, much unlike their master, it seemed. “Well. Since you’re awake, want some hot chocolate?” I asked, the boy seemed confused at my words and asked what hot chocolate was. “Hot cocoa?” He shook his head in confusion again.

“Come on, I’ll make us some cups and you can try it,” I said lifting him up to sit on the counter and wiped my finger at some of the dried drool on his cheek.

Turning to a cabinet, I grabbed two mugs to set beside him and continued to pull supplies out to make the cocoa. Hawthorne watched every move I made, measuring out the ingredients, putting them into a pot to warm up, and even helping stir every now and then. Once it was done, I moved it over to the side to allow it to cool a bit more before putting the drink into the mugs.

“Now here’s the fun part. I like to add some extra things to mine.”

Hawthorne seemed interested in whatever it was I was going to add.

“I like to take this white stuff, called whipped cream, and put it on top, then add this stuff here called cinnamon. Do you wanna try mine and see if you like it for yours?” I asked, Hawthorne seemed to think deeply about it, furrowed eyebrows, and all then eagerly nodded his head. I carefully handed him my cup and he took a little sip, whip cream getting on his upper lip and nose, then made a loud ‘ahh’ sound after gulping it down.

“I’d like some please!” The boy eagerly handed my mug back and watched me add it to his smaller mug.

We sat side by side sipping at our drinks, Hawthorne’s eyes drooping more and more as he drank before he set his almost empty mug on the counter and yawned.

“Ready to go back to bed?” He seemed a little hesitant and then said something that broke my heart.

“I don’t wanna sleep by myself, I’m scared someone’s going to come and get me.” He didn’t want to make eye contact.

I looked at him a little inquisitively, “Why do you think someone’s coming to get you?”

“Well, I really liked being with Daddy, even if I didn’t get much food. And then you guys came and took my daddy and me, because daddy was being bad. But you have been really nice, and Cassin has been helping me fly, and even though Azzie don’t like me he still lets me play with his shadows, and you guys have food and it’s warm-“ I stopped him before he could continue working himself up.

“Hawthorne, you don’t have to go back to the camp if you don’t want to. You know that right?” I said rubbing his hand in a comforting way.

He seemed sheepish as he nodded then asked, “I would get to stay here with you? And Cassin and Azzie?”

I sighed trying to think of an answer, “I don’t know if you’d get to stay with us. You could go to another place that would love you very much.”

Hawthorne didn’t like that answer. Tears forming in his little hazel eyes, lips wobbling, and I knew I needed to backtrack.

“Hey, how about this buddy?” He sniffed and ran a hand over his eye, “How about we pause this conversation, and me and you go sleep? Then we can talk when I get some answers.” Answers only the Inner Circle could answer.

It took Hawthorne only 20 minutes to fall back to sleep in his room and me another hour lying beside Azriel. It was early morning when I awoke to Azriel getting up himself.

“Think you could call a meeting about little bits?” I asked rubbing my hands down my face.

Azriel sighed and sat back in the bed beside me. “You shouldn’t get attached to him; you know that. And it’s not that I think that he’s going to become his father or that I hate him. I heard you guys’ last night, and what you both talked about.” He sat there for a second licking his lips as I cringed knowing he heard us, “I do like him. He’s a sweet kid, and I’m glad he’s had a better life than most Illyrians-”

I stopped him, “I didn’t mean what I said yesterday. I know you’re not your father and I should’ve never. Ever. Compared you to him.”

“I know. You were angry and believed you had to defend him. I’m proud of you for that. But if you really want to discuss what happens with him, then I think we should talk.” Azriel said, grabbing my hand and holding it as he laid back across my stomach.

I nodded, and we started talking. About all outcomes for Hawthorne. What would happen to him, how he’d be raised, all of it. Then we went to the River House. And I joined the Inner Circle as we talked about him. Rhysand’s concerns, Amren’s and Mor’s surprise, Feyre’s support in what would happen, and how it would all be dealt with.

At the end we had an answer.

It was later in the day that I asked Hawthorne if he wanted to go walk around town with Azriel. I was slowly walking behind as Azriel walked somewhat awkwardly with the boy, talking with him as Hawthorne was eagerly pointing around at different shops.

Hawthorne’s eyes widened and grabbed Azriels’ hand, the older Illyrian tensing up at the innocent little child grabbing his scarred hands and dragged him over to a bakery to press his face into the window and stare at the sweets.

“Can we go in there?” Hawthorne asked eagerly looking between Azriel and me. Azriel looked to me for some guidance, letting me control the situation. Nodding my head, Azriel led the three of us into the bakery and let the boy pick what he wanted and got me my favorite treat too.

I led Hawthorne back outside so we could eat, take in the sights, and talk to Hawthorne like we needed to.

“Hey Hawthrone, remember the conversation from last night? Can me and Azriel talk to you about it?” Hawthrone seemed more downtrodden at the reminder of last night but nodded his head.

“Hawthorne, I got to visit your dad before we left, and I just wanted you to know that he isn’t going to be able to come home. And because of that, we need to find you a good home.” Azriel started out, not telling the boy his father wasn’t going to come home. Rhys did have to make an example and couldn’t just pardon him because he had a son.

“Azriel and I have been talking with some people, and we’re wondering what you want to do,” I said, handing the boy a napkin to clean his face as he ate. He glanced between Azriel and me, then down at the table.

“Where would I go if Daddy can’t take me?” he asked shyly.

“Well, we could find you a loving home here, in the city. Where you would be cared for and get to learn all kinds of things with kids your age and everything. Another choice is we find you a home back at your camp, somewhere that’d be able to care for you, and you’d get to be with other Illyrians your age.” Hawthorne seemed to think the two options over. Then Azriel looked at me and I nodded.

“Or” Azriel started, “You could stay with us, and we could raise you. Then you’d stay with Cassian and us, get to meet the High Lord and Lady, and all our friends, while going to school here in Velaris. And in a few years, we’d take you to a camp called Windhaven and you’d train to be a warrior.” Hawthorne’s eyes got wider and wider as Azriel continued, looking back and forth between us two, his grin starting to match mine.

“So. Which would yo-“ Azriel didn’t finish as the tiny Illyrian lunged over the table into both of us.

“YOU I WANNA STAY WITH YOU!” Hawthorne yelled excitedly, gripping the both of us as I laughed.

Azriel looked at me, love flowing down the bond and him receiving the same back from me at the new addition to the family.

[fruitsoxs]

this is long so i'm putting some under read more

BUT- Thinking about Astarion with a generally good tav/reader. I’m thinking it’s sort of an enemies to lovers type deal, where the two of you start off the adventure by bickering constantly over what to do. You always want to do the right thing, and it absolutely infuriates Astarion. He pushes back whenever he can, because your little rag tag group has other matters that are much more important than saving children, or rescuing girls from some hag. But of course, he’s always outvoted. You are easily annoyed by his constant complaining whenever you want to do something good, and so of course the two of you are almost always at each other's throats.

“Oh I’m sorry that I actually have a heart.” “You should be- we have other matters to attend to. Like, well I don't know, the thing inside our heads!”

However, there are moments where Astarion comes to learn that he genuinely likes your kind heart. When you easily forgive him for…hiding what he truly is. Or how you lie when a hunter is out and about. There are moments where you tend to his wounds in complete silence, gently wrapping a bandage around his arm. And when he says a quiet thank you, you simply nod and move on. 

He’d never say this out loud, and of course continues to act as if you are nothing but a nuisance, but he starts to appreciate you little by little. You are not just some naïve adventurer who will drop dead if someone were to ask. You are the strongest person he knows, someone he could depend on if needed. He watches you fuss over the group, solving everyone’s problems. He sees how much work you put into making everyone comfortable, and how little you ask for in return. And while he thinks you’re a little stupid for it, he also recognizes that most of his disdain comes from the fact that he wishes he had someone like you to save him when he was at his lowest. If good people like you exist, then why did nobody come to his aid? 

So maybe he gets less snippy. He doesn’t roll his eyes every time you put the mission on hold to do favors for others. Maybe he starts to fall for you little by little.

And maybe it all becomes clear to him when you get hurt.

It was supposed to be an easy little mission. A peaceful meeting that you were sure you could talk your way out of (it always surprised him how easily you could lie your way out of fights). And of course, Astarion and you just had to get in a little spat beforehand, so he stays at the campsite while you’re off bringing peace to the world. He doesn’t expect to see the others come rushing into camp, dragging your weak body along. He doesn’t expect to see you so pale, fighting for your very life-

He rushes to your side, demanding to know what happened. Something went wrong, and somehow you ended up stabbed with a poisoned dagger in the midst of a fight. He feels his insides churn when they lay you down on a bed roll, and he watches as you give him a weak smile.

“Hey fangs.” you manage to get out, entering a coughing fit shortly after. Your smile almost fades when you notice how scared Astarion looks. It isn’t like him to be so worried. You don’t like seeing him like that so you whisper. “It’s gonna be okay-” And gods does it infuriate Astarion that you’re still trying to help others, help him, when you’re basically dying by his side. So he snaps a bit.

“And how do you know that?” He bites at you, pain and anger in his voice. You flinch a bit, letting a silence take over for a second. You slowly reach out to grab his shaking hand, your grip so weak. “Just trust me.”

He sits by your side, barking orders at everyone else- demanding someone heal you. He’s a bit of a prick as Shadowheart kneels down to tend to your wounds. He seems so angry, but everyone can see the way he’s clinging to your hand. Everyone knows what’s going on. And after you’re healed, and left to recover, he stays by your side. 

When the rest of the camp is asleep, he gently pushes your hair out of your face while looking you over. He’s just now realized how hard he’s fallen. While you’re protecting everyone else someone has to protect you. He may as well be that person.

[oceaneyesinla]

This got longer than I expected, but I thought about Kiryu taking care of you, specifically after you bruise your knuckles, and it spiralled from there.

Divider by @/cafekitsune

Imagine being Kiryu's girlfriend, and someone starts shouting insults as you walk down the street, hand in hand. Maybe it's about the way he clips his pretty pink hair back, maybe it's about the way he wears his patterned shirts and his Bofurin jacket; whatever it is, you don't like it.

Kiryu is just ignoring them - why would he care what they say, when he's got someone like you by his side? Besides, he's confident in himself; he likes his style, and one of his favourite things is deciding what to do with his hair every day, usually with your input.

You are less forgiving. This idiot is getting to you. How dare he insult your boyfriend? Someone who one, is better looking than this fucker could ever hope to be, and two, is one of the best men you've ever had the joy of meeting. He's kind, he treats you well, he takes you out for little adventures and never lets you want for anything.

You glare at the guy as you pass, and he just shoots you a cocky, self assured smirk. That's the last straw; seconds later, your fist is colliding with his cheek, and he staggers backwards a couple of steps. He clearly wasn't expecting your reaction, and once he processes it, his face warps with anger.

Before you can begin to regret your hasty decision or start planning for a trip to an emergency dentist when he's knocked your teeth in, Kiryu is putting himself between you and the asshole.

"Now, now. Unless you want me to call my friends," He waggles his phone playfully, and you can hear the smile in his voice, "I suggest you leave me and my girlfriend in peace."

He takes a step forward, and when he speaks again, you don't need to see his face to know his smile has dropped. You can see his expression in your mind's eye, and you don't need to hear his words. The guy's face drops, and moments later, he's staggering away from you both, looking over his shoulder every so often as if he expects you to follow.

Your hand is already beginning to ache, and the skin over your knuckles is reddened and broken in places. How the boys do this all the time, you'll never know. This sucks.

Kiryu slots himself into your personal space, kissing your forehead before taking your hand ever so gently in both of his, his voice a gentle coo, "Does it hurt, sweet girl? It looks sore."

You nod, bottom lip slipping out into a pout as he coddles you. He makes sympathetic noises as he softly pokes at it, murmuring apologies when you wince. Once he's satisfied with his inspection, he places a featherlight kiss to your knuckles, lips just barely brushing over the already bruising skin.

"You didn't have to do that, you know. I can handle some petty insults."

You frown, reaching up with your non-injured hand to cradle his cheek, "Yeah, but you shouldn't have to, Mitsuki. That guy was a jerk."

Kiryu is giving you that soft smile, the one that makes your heart skip a beat, though it quickly turns teasing, "Aren't I lucky then, to have such a dedicated protector? A pretty one, too."

You feel your cheeks heat up, and you try to pull your hand out of his grasp so you can pretend to be offended. No such luck; his hold on you may be gentle, but it's secure. Just like always.

"Look at me, baby." When you do, you're met with unfiltered adoration and a smile that reaches those beautiful green eyes, "Thank you for standing up for me."

You can't stay mad at that face, even if you're pretending. You press a kiss to his cheek, then to his lip, pulling away to meet his fond smile with one of your own. You would take a thousand bruised knuckles if it meant he could live his life free of the fools who would try and drag him down.

"Now come on. We need to get some ice on that hand of yours." He laces his fingers through yours and leads you down the street, and you don't regret a thing if it means he keeps smiling at you like that.

[heartpascal]

can we get more father figure joel? You know when Ellie killed the David, and then Joel comforted her? Maybe that but instead of Ellie it’s the reader, thank you <3

i am good

▹ joel miller x platonic!f!reader

▹ — summary: joel finally sees the darkness in himself reflected in you.

▹ — a/n: ok first request i hope it’s ok!! i know its kinda similar to the game but erm. its reader and joel this time!! and reader is much much less ok with the whole. murder thing but its ok bc joel is there to fix it &lt;3 yes he is your dad no you don’t get a choice he has decided it

▹ — warnings: allusions to sexual assault (nothing happens but the intention was there), vivid descriptions of murder, reader is misled and attacked, similar to the game with ellie (so kinda spoilers?), joel is ready to kill for you (and does), lots of blood, tears, father figure joel, lots of angst and upset, vomiting

masterlist

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Getting air into your lungs was proving to be one of the hardest things you’d had to do for a long time, which, considering the journey you’d been on, was shocking. The act of simply breathing should have come easily to you, but it didn’t. It couldn’t. Not as you saw the reflection of your own bloodied face in the knife that was held up, a clear threat polluting the air.

You knew you had probably been lucky to even make it as far as you had — born into a world full of death and chaos and infection, you were bound to meet your gruesome end some day, but you didn’t want to die.

For the first time in a long time, your chest ached for the breath you couldn’t seem to provide, the want, the need to live almost suffocating you on its own. You had someone now, someone who cared whether you survived or not, who felt like you deserved even a glimpse at a happy ending, even if he didn’t like to state those things out loud.

Resentment was growing in your stomach, filling you with the need to be sick. Why did you always have to listen to the words Joel didn’t say, rather than the ones he did say? If you had just listened, conserved your trust for those who actually earned it, you wouldn’t be in this situation.

When your hunting escapades had led you into a small horde of infected, you had just blindly put your faith in the aging couple who came to your aid, not thinking of what they might want for their troubles. You’d never had to escape without Joel’s help before, and you quickly discovered you weren’t all that good at it.

The two of them had dragged you back to their nearby settlement which they shared with a couple dozen others, all whilst you were kicking and screaming, trying to get away, your resolve fading each time they hit you to near unconsciousness. When they passed by a young man stood beside an older lady, you had called out to them, “Please, help me, please.”

“Gotta get something in return for the gear we wasted saving her ass,” the man had snickered to the two of them as glanced at the couple, just nodding at his words before turning back to their conversation.

You’d been knocked out when they approached a large community house, just getting a glimpse of the carpeted floor before the woman had struck her gun against the side of your head.

You had woken up in the middle of a chilled room, your arms straining with effort as you pushed yourself to sit up, seeing the woman holding a knife towards you. You couldn’t be sure how long it had been since they’d taken you, not with the way your stomach clenched with pain. The whole reason you’d been out there was to solve that, but you were sure that it had gotten worse.

“Listen, please,” your scratchy voice came out, much quieter than you had meant for it to be, “I—I can get you replacements for everything you used, but you gotta let me go.”

“We don’t gotta do anything, girl.” The lady snickered, as if even you saying such a thing was amusing. It made you feel small, powerless.

She got up, hearing her name being called, Cheryl, you noted, and sneered at you. Her skin was dull, and she looked vaguely ill, but that didn’t change anything about her threatening demeanour. At least one thing you’d taken from travelling with Joel was never underestimate your opponent, no matter how small, or ill, or kind they may appear to be.

Her hand grazed your face as she strode past, “Yeah,” she said quietly, like she was complimenting you, “You’ll do nicely. We’ll both enjoy you.”

You managed to avoid throwing up until she left the room, hearing a lock click into place. All that came up was bile, the clench of your stomach just becoming sharper afterwards. Your muscles felt weak, likely beginning to waste away with you having been inactive for a little while and injured, less energy wasted on muscle cells and more going into fighting off the infections that were likely trying to poison your blood.

Scanning the room, like Joel would’ve advised you to, you found nothing of much use to you. An old rickety chair, perhaps, but that would only help you if you could lift it, and you weren’t convinced you had the strength left within you, but you’d be damned if you didn’t at least try.

Something deep in your chest nagged at you, the longing for Joel, probably. He had saved you on countless occasions, and you could only hope that it had been long enough that he had finally gotten worried. It seemed likely, he really did worry a lot for a man who wasn’t meant to care, but then there was the factor of him finding you, managing to take down all the people in the settlement that might fight to protect each other and—

You took a deep breath, finally feeling your lungs expand and take in some oxygen, and pulled yourself from the ground, keeping the bile that threatened to rise down as the nausea hit you.

The chair was lighter than you expected it to be, the insides of the wooden frame likely rotten away, and you managed to pull it towards the door, waiting beside it with shallow breaths. When the lock finally began to click open, you raised the lightweight chair as high as you could, and smacked it down against the person who entered the room. Splinters flew from it as it impacted, and you heard the clatter of metal as a tray they carried hit the ground with them.

Food, maybe, to keep you alive for… whatever it was that they had planned for you, you reasoned, but didn’t look to check. Instead, you grabbed a mostly-intact leg of the chair that caused splinters to dig into your palm, and stepped over the body of the man who had taken you, exiting quickly.

Footsteps hurried you, and you ducked behind a booth as they approached the room you were being kept in. There were lanterns lit all around the room, giving it a warm look that greatly contrasted the cold air and feel it had.

“Shit!” Cheryl cursed, and you saw her bend down to check on the man from over the top of your booth. A radio crackled though the air, before, “Lewis is down, the girl’s out. Anybody got eyes?”

Your fingers shook and you gripped on to the booth to stop them, hearing the distorted reply of whoever was on the other end of the radio, “She ain’t got out, yet, she’s gotta be in there with you. You need backup?”

“No,” Cheryl replied, her cold voice sending shivers down your back, “I’ve got her.”

The drag of Lewis’ clothes against the floor made you peak your head up, seeing her drag him into the room, before she exited and locked him inside. You ducked back down, heart hammering. You couldn’t escape from them in an open forest — how would you get out of a locked down building?

“Come on out, kid. It’s okay, you just gotta start behaving yourself.” She called, her slow footsteps failing to mask the sound of her unsheathing her knife. It wasn’t okay, it was very far from okay, you would argue, and you could feel that crushing fear of death pushing down on your shoulders, your chest constricting once again.

You tried to reassure yourself — you had faced countless amounts of infected and come out on the other side, what was one woman with very bad intentions? But it didn’t make you feel better, not when it was another human, who could feel exactly what you felt.

Her footsteps approached, and you leaped from where you were in the booth, trying to run as far away from her as fast as you could, but she caught up to you with surprising ease, your muscles clearly weaker than initially thought, and she grasped the back of your shirt, pulling you to a stop as you fell to the ground.

“Get the fuck off of me!” You cried out as she knelt down, one knee beside you and another pressing against your stomach, knife approaching your throat as soon as she settled you firmly against the carpet. It was red.

“You could’ve made this real easy for all of us,” she muttered your name, and you froze, having forgotten the way you’d yelled it out to them in the midst of the battle. “Be a good girl, now.”

You heard gunfire outside, and when her face glanced toward the guarded front door, you twisted underneath her, pushing yourself away to find enough room to kick the knee against the floor out from under her. She fell, her chin hitting the ground with a satisfying crack, and when she cried out, anger overcame you.

“You were gonna hurt me,” You said aloud, almost as if it was a realisation, rather than just fact. Your eyes hardened, gaze going red as you snatched the knife from her weakened grip. She reached out to try and snatch it back, but only got the drops of your blood that fell from the blade as you held onto it, twisting it until you finally held the handle. “Why— why were you going to hurt me?”

Her response didn’t filter through your ears, and the rage at how easily she and Lewis were going to do it pulsed, making your vision go blurry. When she sat up, tumbling forward to take you down again, you swiped her own knife until you felt the drag of something resisting it, and then you pulled harder, feeling something warm gushing down your hand.

Cheryl’s breath stuttered slightly, her hands rising to her chest as she groaned in pain. You looked down to your hands, where they were coated in a red that was darker than the carpet below them, and you were so lost that you didn’t notice her hand coming below yours, hitting it so hard that the knife went flying to the other end of the carpet.

Like a reflex, your fists came down on her face, feeling the shift of bones beneath your knuckles as they shattered upon contact. You didn’t stop, too wrapped up in the fact that you didn’t want to die, that she was going to hurt you, to kill you when she was done, she was going to tear you apart and throw away the pieces, she was going to take away what little humanity had left, she—

Arms pulled you away from the body beneath you, arms much stronger than your own, and you screamed, yelled out with your broken voice, “I’ll kill you, I’ll fucking kill you, get off of me! I’ll kill you!”

The person shushed you, only holding tighter as you thrashed, turning away from Cheryl where she… wasn’t breathing. You stopped, tense muscles in your body going slack and burning as you stared at her, at her body, lifeless and covered in blood.

“Kid, it’s okay, it’s okay, I’ve got you.” said the person holding you— said Joel. Your hands dropped from where you had scratched his forearm, his arm covered in blood — though whether it was his, or Cheryl’s, or yours, you didn’t know.

He loosened his grip on you, eyebrows creased in concern as your entire body slipped when he moved his arms away, as if you couldn’t even hold yourself up.

“No… she— it wasn’t, I didn’t—” you trailed off, unsure of what to say, the words dead on your tongue, because you didn’t what? Didn't mean to kill her?

Joel followed your blank eyes to the body he’d pulled you from, and he turned your head towards him quickly, eyes hard. “No.” He said, and at your somewhat confused expression, he continued, “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Joel, I—”

“No,” he repeated, and pulled your head towards him, keeping you looking away from Cheryl as a gunshot rang through the room, echoing in your ears so loudly you couldn’t hear Joel at first, as he held up the smoking gun for you to see, “—killed her, see? I killed her.”

“They were going… they wanted to—” You choked on the words, feeling that bile come creeping back up your throat, and you lurched away from Joel as it came out, feeling him pull your hair back from your face.

Something in his eyes settled, however, at the choice of word you’d used — they. So this body wasn’t the only one in here? His question was answered by a bang at a door on the other side, the way your entire body flinched at the sound.

The door splintered, and a battered man came tumbling out, hurrying over to where he could see people crowded. His face went red, and he began to shout, “You fucking bitch—!”

Joel shot one between the eyes, and the man crumpled before he could get anything else out. He turned back to you, to where you were hunched in on yourself. He shoved his gun back in its rightful place, and held your cheeks between his hands, gunpowder residue transferring to your skin.

“Do you hear me?” His muted voice said, and you looked up to his face with a confused shake of your head, “It was you or them, and the only answer is you.”

“But, Joel,” you were interrupted, and he wiped the underneath of your eye of a tear that you hadn’t even known had fallen.

“No. You listen to me, remember?” Joel affirmed, and you nodded, the tears falling more now that you’d acknowledged them, your hands shaking as you tried to look past Joel, but he just pulled your face back to him. “I’ve got you, kid. Keep your eyes on me.”

You turned your face into his neck as you all but threw yourself into his arms, and they wrapped around you like they’d been waiting to do so. You missed his pained expression at the words, and the way heartache burrowed in his chest as he stood the two of you up, his knees clicking.

He swept you up, as if you were the smallest and lightest thing he’d carried in years, and he carried you away, your eyes staying glued to him as the two of you left behind the carnage he’d caused in looking for you.