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gibberishfangirl · 4 months

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WIND BREAKER | getting caught

Synopsis ✰ how the boys react to the two of you getting walked in on during the heat of the moment

Characters ✰ Haruka Sakura, Hajime Umemiya, Akihiko Nirei, Jo Togame, Choji Tomiyama

Contains ✰ spicy; explicit content, semi-public, slight aggressive behavior, humping, biting, marks, love bites, groping, 18+ / nsfw!

Haruka Sakura ᡣ𐭩

you couldn’t help it, it’s hard to hold back with Sakura when you love how much of a blushing mess you can make him. seeing him unfold underneath you triggers something dark inside of you. “you’re so cute when you make that face Sakura.” you cooed in between the kisses you were placing on your boyfriends lips.

“shut up- no i’m not.” your boyfriend barked back at you with a scowl. however, the deep red blush forming on his cheeks says he likes what you have to say. he could never pinpoint why he lets you get away with so much. he doesn’t understand the power you hold over him, why he says yes to your every request, why he would do anything for you, or why he can’t help but blush and tremble over the sweet nothings you whispered to him during these moments.

“don’t say that, i think you’re more than very cute.” you teased the poor boy. the two of you were on your way to get some food before you had dragged him into a dark alley to kiss him, and for some reason he let you. he let you have him against the wall, your soft fingers tugging at his split hair making him weak. he let out a groan as you pulled his hair in order to drag him down to your lips.

“touch me? please?” you pleaded with big round innocent eyes as if you weren’t the one who got the two of you in this position anyways. he nodded desperately giving you permission to guide his hands to your body. you placed his hands on your hips and then down to your ass before tip toeing up to him to plant more kisses on his face. this time around he felt the tip of his ears growing an antagonizing amount of heat on them.

“y/n lets go to my place? yeah?” Sakura asked shyly. he had gotten so easily worked up from kissing he wanted to skip the dinner all together and go straight to his place. you had gotten yourself so worked up to the point where you also wanted to skip dinner. you frantically nodded at his request and he let out a sigh of relief. you were such in a rush you grabbed his hand and started to lead the way out before he pulled you back into him.

“w-wait. i need some time.” he shamefully admitted, his face probably being the reddest you made it all day. you were slightly confused at first until your eyes made its way down and you saw his raging boner making it’s appearance.

“want me to make it go away?” you offered reaching down to his belt. you had felt guilty at this point for making him get so hard in public and it won’t be awhile until he gets some relief. Sakura bit his lip thinking about whether or not he should take up your offer. he ended up shaking his head no, he didn’t want to risk anyone seeing you. instead you opted out to just standing in front of him in case anyone walks by so they won’t have to see his package trying to break free from his jeans. you thought that would be the end of it until you felt Sakura’s hands grab your hips. “can i?” he asked gently before you responded with a nod, soon after he was pushing your ass against his crotch as he let out a small groan. you felt your face heat up as he started to shamelessly rut himself against you. he had his face buried against the nape of your neck.

“OH HEY GUYS!” a voice yelled. it caused the two of you to sharply look up at the direction of the voice. you squinted before recognizing the person running up to you two was Nirei. “what are you guys doing here?” he asked innocently confused. Sakura was trying to regain his composure meanwhile you still felt his hard on pressing against your ass.

“it was too sunny, we got hot while walking so we decided to get some shade.” you responded with smooth lie and smile which Nirei completely believed. “ah makes sense, where are you guys going?? i’ll join you!” he smiled. you were unsure of how to respond just smiling at your very innocent and naive friend. he would third wheel on your dates every once in a while which you didn’t mind.

“don’t worry about it, go away.” Sakura interrupted causing Nirei to glare at him. you elbowed your boyfriend before scolding him, “don’t be rude!” the conversation ended with all three of you agreeing to go get dinner. the entire walk there Sakura stayed closely behind you while you held his hand and led the way.

Hajime Umemiya ᡣ𐭩

“Ume… what if someone comes?” you shyly asked your boyfriend as he was leaving a trail of kisses from your neck to the corner of the mouth. you pulled away slightly in order to meet his gaze.

he couldn’t help but smile at your cute shyness, “no one will come, it’s fine.” before you could protest more, he pushed you down onto the ground chuckling at the tiny squeak you let out. you caved in as he captured your lips with his own. you felt his long fingers grazing your sides and hips as he deepened the kiss.

one of your favorite things to do with your loving boyfriend was to help him with his gardening. the term “help” can be used loosely as the two of you always got carried away during the gardening seasons. it’s gotten to the point where almost everyone knows better than to interrupt the two of you while “gardening”. Ume has made it clear over time, again and again, that he does not like getting interrupted while he’s spending time with his cute girlfriend.

the two of you had gotten carried away in your kissing as Ume had already begun abusing your lips. he loved to bite, lick, suck, and harshly nip your plump lips since he adored seeing how red/purple they got after he was done. you felt yourself instinctively arching your back upwards to him to gain some type of friction between you two. Ume was placed perfectly in between your legs as he borderline starts rutting himself against you. before you knew it, you were letting out small moans and whimpers begging for more.

“can i? please.” Ume had been fiddling with the hem of your shirt while marking your neck and collarbone with harsh bites and bruises. he waited until you frantically nodded before slipping his cold hands underneath the fabric of your top. he instantly wrapped his large hands around your breasts cupping each one. they fit perfectly in his hands, he’s fully convinced your body is made for him. no one could tell him otherwise and fortunately he didn’t want to hear it either.

Ume had almost gotten so caught up in the moment he could’ve missed the sound of the rooftop door opening. he instantly sat up catching you off guard. you let out a small whine from losing his touch. before you can even mutter a word out, Ume had reached out for a sweater he had and thrown it over your body.

“UME!” a group of voices screamed while another familiar yelled out “wait! don’t-“

you froze in place, grateful for your boyfriends huge build as he covered most of your presence behind him. you quickly recovered once you realized the situation and you instantly threw on the sweater Ume had thrown at you before. you finally peeked at the commotion and saw Hiragi with a group of young boys at the door. you hoped no one saw the marks on your body, based on the way they were looking at you, they did.

“you idiots! I told you not to come in!” Hiragi scolded the group of boys. Ume had been completely silent but his energy was gut wrenching as you could pinpoint the pure annoyance he felt.

“jeez, what are you?! some kind of animal?!” one of the boys yelled referring to the marks Ume left on you. your face felt an entire new level of warmth. you looked to Ume who only smiled in response. a smile that hid many emotions, one that definitely hid the current anger he felt. truth be told, he wasn’t all that mad at being caught, he was more angry because they were still there and didn’t leave.

“is this an emergency?” Ume finally asked. there were only crickets in response. once no one responded Ume felt himself get more internally angry because he had to stop his moment with you for no reason. Ume’s smile finally dropped as he glared at the group of boys. the glare alone sent all of them running down the door, slamming it closed behind them. Ume let out a groan after they left and plopped to the ground as you could only giggle in response to his frustration.

Akihiko Nirei ᡣ𐭩

“y/n- wait- no- we shouldn’t do this.” Nirei pleaded with you. his eyes anxiously moving between you and the door. his hands held a stern hold on your hips as he prevented you from moving. the two of you were in an empty classroom together and had been previously making out. you were currently straddling him as he was sitting on a chair near a desk. the two of you had been so busy lately you haven’t had a chance to be alone… until now.

“it’ll be fine, it’s not like we’ll be the first couple to do something like this. besides there’s still 40 minutes until class, no one comes this early” you argued as you wrapped your hands around his neck slightly playing with the back of his hair.

Nirei bit his bottom lip not removing his eyes off the door, obviously contemplating his decision of whether or not to continue. it’s true, unfortunately you two haven’t had much alone time. to give this up would be insane of him to do considering what a missed opportunity it would be.

“please ni’, for me.” you pleaded interrupting his thoughts. you began to grind your hips against his crotch causing him to let out a small groan. he could never say no, not to you. especially not when you looked so pretty with your flushed cheeks looking up at him with those eyes.

he was gripping your hips so tightly it hurt. it hurt in a way that made you feel so good. with how hard he holding you, he could leave bruises. he wasn’t intentionally hurting you, he would never. in fact, he wasn’t even aware of how strong his grip was. his mind was hazed with thoughts of you flooding them, he’s trying to regain his control. the control he didn’t even have over himself, it was something only you held. he was painfully hard as his cock was starting to ache. eventually Nirei started to guide your hips onto him while trying to fight back any groan from leaving.

you crashed your lips against his in order to silence your own whimpers. you were wearing a short skirt and the fabric of his jean pants felt so good pressed against you. you pressed yourself down harder in order to gain any more friction. you needed him like you never needed him before, it had been too long. as embarrassing as it was for Nirei to admit it, he felt himself getting close, you were making him feel so so good. groans were spewing from his pretty lips before he knew it, he buried his face on the crook of your neck. he couldn’t hold it together as he felt himself losing composure. the both of you could feel yourself getting wet against him.

“fuck~ you’re so wet.” he groaned as his hands lowered themselves onto your ass pushing you closer to him making you whimper once more.

you quickly became a moaning mess, the friction feeling too good. Nirei removed himself from your neck in order to look up at your face. you were so beautiful whenever you were worked up like this. your face was completely red and flushed from the tension. with the way your legs were practically trembling and how tears were threatening to fall from your eyes he knew you were close. “so pretty” he murmured softly as he placed a sweet kiss on your lips. the two of you nearly on ends ready to collapse together. until you heard the door slide open and both of you froze in place.

“hey Nirei, someone told me they saw you come in here.” a voice started but trailed off as they noticed the position you two were in.

to Nirei’s pleasant surprise he found himself regaining control quickly. he managed to cool his face off fast and gain composure before looking over at the door. you, however, couldn’t do the same. you quickly turned your face to the opposite side of the room avoiding any contact with the person at the door. Nirei was feeling both relieved and embarrassed to see Suo at the door. he didn’t believe Suo actually knew what the two of you were doing. in hindsight, anyone would assume the two of you were having a casual make out session. Suo, in fact didn’t think anything more was happening either. he was blindsided to the absolute desperation that was previously unfolding.

“my apologies, I didn’t realize you were here with your girlfriend.” Suo spoke honestly. he excused himself and left while saying “I’ll see you in class Nirei.” he was already planning to 100% tease Nirei in class.

Nirei let a sigh of relief slip as soon as Suo left and closed the door. the two of you sat in silence for a moment before Nirei peeked to see your expression. you were incredibly red with embarrassment which caused him to smile. he couldn’t help it, you were always the bold one in the relationship so seeing you behave otherwise was adorable to him. you finally turned to face him with a glare as if it was his fault the two of you had gotten caught.

“don’t look at me like that, you know this was your idea anyways.” Nirei smiled nervously, in response to your glare. your glare didn’t last long since you knew he was right.

“how embarrassing!” you exclaimed as you covered your face with your hands and buried yourself into his chest. Nirei could only laugh in response before ruffling your hair. he embraced you as he tried to comfort you.

“could’ve been worse.”

Jo Togame ᡣ𐭩

“Toga we should stop, someone can come in.” you argued trying to pry your tall boyfriend off of you who was currently suffocating you in his french kisses. you heard him let out an annoyed groan before pulling away.

“who cares, you act like i can’t just make them disappear.” he says with a slight threatening undertone causing you to pout. you’ve told the man before that he can’t just keep threatening to beat anyone up when he doesn’t get his way. of course he never listens, he’s so used to getting what he wants. not that you could blame him, you’re the one who constantly spoils him.

“that’s not the point!” you argued back. despite arguing back you still tilted your head up so your boyfriend can get more access to you as he started kissing the skin on your neck, softly inhaling your sweet scent. Jo Togame will most definitely be the absolute death of you. he was the worst, so demanding, needy, and god help yourself, you were willing to give him anything he wants in life.

“so pretty” he murmured before clashing your lips together, swiftly slipping his tongue into your mouth making you gasp. he took it as an opportunity to deepen the kiss more before grabbing your hips and pulling you up. you instinctively wrapped your legs around him in return to the action. you were unsure of how it happened but the two of you had accidentally lost balance and landed on the ground. Togame broke your fall by flipping you two over so he was the one who landed on his back meanwhile you stayed on top.

“ouch.” he groaned while you on the other hand were still trying to catch your breath. “i prefer this position anyways.” he spoke before cupping your face and pulling you down to him. he returned to eagerly exploring every inch of the inside of your mouth, swirling his tongue around yours. you couldn’t stop the small mewls from coming out due to Togame’s rough kissing. he always kissed you as it’d be the last time he gets the chance.

“wow, this is a new style of fighting for you Togame.” a voice pitched up in amusement.

you wanted to jump at the sound of the voice but couldn’t. Togame had a strong hand wrapped around the back of your neck keeping you in place. “mmph!” you whined out before grabbing a hold of his shirt and pulling yourself up completely. he was insane, actually insane. how could he continue making out with you knowing someone else was in the room with you two. you glared at him with narrowed eyes while panting trying to regain control of your breath. he had an amused smirk placed on his face at your reaction.

“what do you want Choji? i’m busy, go away.” Togame causally addressed his small friend who was towering over the two of you watching the situation unfold. you went to get up completely but Toga moved his strong hold to your hips before you could. you pouted at your boyfriend in disapproval which he only smiled at.

“i’m so boreddddd, come hang out with me.” Choji complained as he dramatically threw himself over a chair.

“cant, im with my girlfriend.”

“who cares, bring her too. just don’t make out while we’re together.”

“no. go away.”

“PLEASE.”

“no. bye”

“dude.”

the boys continued to bicker while you facepalmed in defeat. how did you always get stuck in these situations? and why the hell was your boyfriend always so shameless? shouldn’t he care more? his solution can’t always be a threat, could it?

Choji Tomiyama ᡣ𐭩

you and Choji came from two different worlds. you went to a private all girls school and had met Choji on your way home. the two of you hit it off from there. Choji was almost the complete opposite of you, happy, loud, cheerful, so full of energy. you were a straight A student along with being student body president. you had a lot on your plate so being around someone who radiated such care free energy made you happy. the two of you were currently hanging out at the ori, one of Choji’s favorite places.

“come here” Choji said snapping you out of your trance. he was standing in the middle of the stage with the biggest grin on his face. you raised an eyebrow, unsure of why he wanted you up there. nonetheless, you made your way up, it felt weird being up there. it made you feel small, you couldn’t imagine how it would feel being up here with a full audience, all eyes on you. Choji smiled as he grabbed your wrists pulling you closer causing you to blush.

“I want to teach you how to take someone down.” Choji believed everyone should fight, it was more fun that way. Choji was explaining what to do but you were so spaced out, only paying attention to his lips and the way his eyes shined bright with pure excitement. you couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to spend this time doing something else more ‘fun’. you felt like a pervert thinking about him in a manner that wasn’t all that innocent or friendly.

before you can even react to what was happening you were sharply knocked off your feet. you let out a yelp and closed your eyes bracing yourself for the impact. the impact that never came as you felt a pair of arms catch you and gently place you down on the floor. your eyes fluttered open to meet Choji’s soft brown eyes. it took you a second before realizing he was on top of you, you felt your cheeks heat up by having him be so close.

“y/n, you weren’t listening were you?” he asked softly looking down at you as he grabbed your wrists once more holding them above your head.

“I-I was distracted. plus i’m not wearing fighting clothes!” you defensively said in return. his eyes moved from your face and trailed down your body until he saw the placement of his knee in between your thighs. your school uniform skirt was hiked up past your mid-thigh, exposing more skin than usual.

“I suppose that’s true.” Choji murmured before rubbing his knee up against your clothed cunt. you let out a small whimper in return before softly moaning his name. “hm? that feel good?” he asked locking his lips onto your neck, gently sucking on your smooth skin. Choji couldn’t help himself before moving one of his hands down to rub your cute little clothed cunt. he let out a small groan once he got a peek of your baby pink lacey underwear.

“oh god~ Choji, so so good” you moaned out trying to grind your hips against his fingers. you and Choji didn’t get a lot of chances to be this close but whenever you did it felt like heaven. something you’ve come to learn is that Choji is pleasantly talented with his hands in a way that didn’t involve fighting or any type of violence.

“let me taste you?” Choji asked looking up at you while guiding his head down. “yes please” you begged, before he could spread your legs the auditorium door opened with a bang. you immediately slammed your legs closed and sat up in response. Choji let out an irritated growl to losing you in your vulnerable position.

“get the fuck out.” Choji spat sharply turning to whoever opened the door. Choji’s demeanor changed into something unrecognizable. it was something you didn’t have any familiarity with. you watched as his eyes darken, he stood up and jumped off the stage. in all honesty, you felt guilty since an embarrassing amount of arousal reached your core from seeing him behave so deadly and intimidatingly. the poor guy let out a spew of apologies before running out. you heard Choji let out a deep sigh as he closed his eyes and looked up at the ceiling. his anger clearly wasn’t going away, all you were thinking about was how you could help him relieve himself.

“Choji.” your voice broke him out of his trance as he opened his eyes and snapped his head towards you. he made his way up to you and once he was close enough you gripped his shirt and pulled him closer. “c-can we keep going? please.” you begged looking up at him only for his dark eyes to already be staring down at you. he smirked before grabbing the back of your neck and crashing your lips together roughly.

a/n <3 : phewww this was a long one, I got carried away :’D I really wanted to include Suo but I was struggling to imagine him getting caught. I feel like he’d be so sneaky and careful it’d be impossible to catch him lacking. maybe part two with him ???? idkk. also nirei’s section might be a bit ooc since i got carried away while writing his part </3 this was my first time writing explicit content in a while, sorry if it’s a bit rough, hope yall still enjoy <33

#hajime umemiya #hajime umemiya x reader #nirei akihiko #nirei akihiko x reader #jo togame #jo togame x reader #choji tomiyama #choji tomiyama x reader #divider by anitalenia #wind breaker #wind breaker x reader #sakura haruka #sakura haruka x reader

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ropes3amthoughts · 3 months

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What you staring at 💀 what he making that pretty ass face for

Bro’s raising his hand to speak 💀 bro thinks he in school 💀 (which he shouldn’t even think bc his ass was homeschooled) dork ass I’ll kiss him

Bro likes tomatoes as his favorite food 💀 that ain’t even a meal bruh that’s an ingredient 💀 ingredient lover 💀 malnourished ass 💀 fake food fan 💀 eat some proper meals bruh 💀 bro’s gonna eat tomatoes straight up like an apple and be like “yummy” 💀 I’d take him out to dinner

Bro’s special interests are people and politics 💀silly ass he’s so excited and cute 💀 what’s he being cute for 💀 cute ass 💀 what’s he got a gorgeous smile for 💀 bro’s having fun and enjoying himself how lovely I hope he has many good days and learns to love himself like with all that idolizing he does of other people he really doesn’t thhnkot himself and maybe he jus like hates himself yo what if that has to do with him lke thjnkjnh he’s like a monster in that one part like he hates monsters and he sees himself like that I mean I guess that’s not really profound idk what I’m sayin I’m kinda tired and k think mh phone is too it’s getting warm

He’s such a mess lmao like bro just drank some unknown quantity of glasses of alcohol and took his clothes off (unclear which one he did first) and passed out in his bed seemingly backwards what are you doing silly ass 💀 drinking to help with his insomnia smh silly Kabru you’re gonna die young that is not good for you 💀 unhealthy ass 💀 gorgeous ass man 💀 I want to study him under a microscope except I’m really bad at using microscopes in middle school they made me do this before you go into the lab test and I passed it so good but when I got to the lab and started using the microscope i could not see shit like I kept turning them knobs n stuff did not work lnao all blurry so if I was like “bro you an interesting critter I’m gonna study you under a microscope” what would happen is I would just go “hmmm hm hmmmmm” all inquisitively and just look at blurry ness for a few seconds then be like “I can’t see shit lol that was a busy wanna make out@ then I would kiss him on his face and I would play with his pretty hair

This could b me. I know how to touch boobs and one time when I was like 10 I watched a YouTube video on how to transform into a werewolf and I genuinely believe it was real and I started walking around my house on alll fours and barking and trying to feel my connection to the mooon and when my dad came home he got really mad ya me and he started yelling at me also I have a sister this could literally be me like that could be me I could be feeling Kabru bobs more like Kabroobies lmao I would lick him like a popsicle like his skin like a cat and I would draw little animals on his arms in different colored marker and all the animals say I love you hearttttt and they are all happy animals and I would tell him is ok if he wants to wash them off because they’re stupid little marker animals and it’s ok if he doesn’t like them

Fun fact I first saw this picture of Kabru like ten minutes before I went to go golfing with m dad and my grandpa and our neighbor Bill or something and so I had no time to process it and so every time during golfing which was like three hours or so btw I would keep thinking of him like this and also this was before k realized I thought he was handsome I was like he’s a cool character. But he’s not like hot lol but then I see this picture minutes before golfing and my heart gets pounding and I feel like I’m choking and suddenly it dawns on me he’s the most beustfil man I’ve ever seen in mh life meow but then I immediately had to go golfing and like ever time I blinked I would see his gorgeous face and I was like “wow man I’m hay” but I couldn’t do anything about it or like tell anybody because I was busy absolutely fucking up my short game lmal Nd itz kujs ahdn fbe chata teds are locked jn a room tkvwtehr kr somwrbinf ow my fingwr hhrt they just sgafted crampimg but anhways tehy realize they lkkr each other n stff yeah j tealkzed i liked him when i was out golfing as soon i vake baxk from glfijg j tbnk j went kn a cfazu tsnt to mh flose frkends and stuff yeab anhways he looks vrewg gorgeous meow melw man

He’s sooooo cute bruh that tuff of hair that sticks out from behin this ear makes me crazy what the fucj why do you look like that I love you 😭 it’s 1am rn and I love him I can’t sleep I’m comipoling a handful of my little pictures of him to tumblr because he’s making me crazy oh Man U love him him I want to hold his face in mh hands I want uh kiss him I want uhhhh man he is gorgeous and I like his personality he s like assionage he really into his goals he’s like a do whatever it takes guy but like he has limits and stuff he’s not like crazy nuts but he’s driven and accomplished and he’s a cute little charmer he so handsome wow!! And he’s so smart and he’s a quick thinker very smart good at improv and he’s a good leader and he cares about people what a cool guy and I love his nice smile awwwwwwwww man he’s hot meowza k can never be normal about him I don’t feelnormal so about him ever man I’m so sleepy bruh I don’t even remember a single word I just toed snit if I said”I alone Kabru “ somewhere than k agree with myself because yeah I love him and that’s yeah awesome guy him great splendid incredible enamoring effiseneg 100 stars out of 2 or just 50 because that’s fractions wait I can do 100 stars out if 1 stars and get 100 stars or I could just move the decimal pace and I could get even more stars yeah babgygirkl are you the space because stars are you the dirt b cause I would give you flowers z are you mini cooking videos that go “yummy!” And have old Macdonald playing the background because I can’t take my eyes off you are you beautiful because yes you are I am going to bed goodnight to Kabru and the orhwr peippe too i guess njy mksyly Kabru i hope everhd rike he sleleehe sleep well full 9 hoirs well resyed Miss Ryoko Kui please Kabru sleepinh good plewse also comic where he has good day please I wish the best for him

#dungeon meshi spoilers #I’m so bhappy when I see him :> smile yippee yay #I’m so sleepy my head feels like it’s bubbling lmao buy gotta Kabru post #delicious in dungeon #idgaf what nobody thinks bout this post I’m sleepy and I love Kabru so much and that’s what I gotta say that’s all I lotta say #I will probably forget him in like one year but right now he is uhhhhh I like him #dungeon meshi #kabru of utaya #kabru dungeon meshi #kabru #rope/spider post #oh man mh eyes are watering that’s no good #like sleepy watering Wuh oh #ok I’m just gonna post this and go to sleep I needa quit fooling around bruh my body gonna hate me #late night post #Kabru posting

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aurorawritestoescape · 2 months

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BAD BLOOD part 6

Pairing: step uncle Joel Miller x f!reader x stepdad Tommy Miller

Summary: a month after Joel exposed your relationship with Tommy, the Miller brothers pay you a visit and your feelings come to the surface.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, fluff, angst, step-cest, big age gap (reader is 22, Joel and Tommy are in their late and mid-40s), dark!Joel, soft!Tommy with darkish vibes, edging, mfm, unprotected DVP, f!oral, ass slapping(2), handjob, multiple orgasms, creampies, cum eating, degradation, praise kink, daddy kink, fingering, swearing. Joel can pick up reader. The pics are for the mood only. Reader has no specific physical descriptions.

Word count: 8,2k

A/n: this is the final part of the main story so I’m very emotional about it. I love these menaces. There’s going to be an epilogue and I’ll probably do some extra stories for them bc I can’t see myself letting them go🥹 dedicating this part to my everything @milla-frenchy ❤️ Thank you for being with me every step of the way! Your support, your help, your love for the characters (mainly Joel *coughs*slut) mean the world to me. Love you sm, baby!!💖🫂😘 big hug to @romanarose for answering my dorm-related questions!🫂 I’m grateful to everyone who’s read the series, liked, commented, rb-ed, sent asks about it. I’ve been overwhelmed with your love and I’m sending you some back💕Love you all!!❤️ Hope you’ll like this part! Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Part 5 || SERIES MASTERLIST II Tommy’s Visit MASTERLIST

“I’m off, babe!” your roommate Mel says when you meet her at the dorm on the way to your room. She’s carrying a big sports bag, ready to drive to her parents’ house for the weekend.

“Oh! Your dad’s here. He’s in our room,” she nods in the direction of your suit and adds with a playful smile, “he’s hot!”

You furrow your brows, blinking at her with confusion.

“Dad? But.. He lives in Europe.”

“Ehm…Maybe it’s your stepdad then? He said he was your daddy.”

‘Daddy’. Your jaw drops and your heart plummets into your stomach.

“You ok?” Mel places her hand on your shoulder, with a worried expression. “You look… shook.”

“No, I’m fine… just surprised.”

You wave her goodbye with a strained smile and your weak legs carry you to your dorm room.

Your mind is racing and every step seems to last an eternity. You can’t believe he’s here. A mixture of guilt, fear and excitement fills your chest. What are you going to tell him?

You haven’t talked to Tommy in more than a month, scared to face him, to admit that you had ruined his life because of your desire. You hoped that he realized that Joel was the real villain of the story but you couldn’t deny that all that mess had started with you. After that horrible day, your mom flooded your phone with hateful messages, calling you a slut, a whore and a homewrecker. You didn’t pick up her calls which were rare. Apparently she didn’t want to hear your voice, just like you didn’t want to hear hers. Indifference filled your heart. You had already hated her for years, your relationship ruined long before you slept with her husband.

And Tommy…You couldn’t bear to hear him breaking up whatever thing you two had so you just blocked him. His hate would be too much for you. You had never felt anything like that before and you wanted to save those moments together untainted by his resentment.

You did the same with Joel’s number. But you pressed ‘block caller’ only after you phoned him and cursed the fucker out. How did he dare to drop a nuclear bomb on your life like that? Deep in your heart you knew that he had overplayed you in your own game and your pride was hurt. What made matters worse was your sickening yet undeniable desire for the bastard.

When you come up to your room, you see that the door is slightly ajar. He really is here. After taking a deep breath, you step into the room and find Tommy, sitting on your bed, elbows planted on his knees, your exercise book in his hands. He’s wearing a black shirt with a white tank top underneath and a pair of dark jeans. Your pussy tingles just from a sight of him, his big body, soft curls, but you drive away these thoughts, trying to concentrate on the goal that you set on the way here - to get him back.

Your stepdad raises his eyes to you. Is it a trace of smile on his lips? What if he doesn’t hate you after all? A slither of hope gives you much needed courage and you take a few steps towards him.

“Hey. What are you doing here?”

Your voice is small and shaky and you hate it but it’s stupid to deny your overwhelming feelings for him.

Tommy gives you a little smile and throws your book back on your desk, next to your bed.

“I wanted to see you. We need to talk.”

“Yes, daddy,” you agree, biting your lip and batting your eyelashes at your stepdad.

“I didn’t think you’d call me that after blocking me.”

“I’m sorry, but… I was scared. I thought you hated me. But it’s not my fault. I had feelings for you and Joel used it. He ruined your life. I’d never do it.”

Tommy drops his head, rubbing his hands, and hums. You start seeing red as soon as your step uncle's name leaves your lips and your anger spills out.

“That fucker secretly took the photo and sent it to our fucking family chat?! Who the fuck does that? Is he insane?”

Tommy looks up at you and then his gaze slides to the side, somewhere behind you, before he says,

“You can ask him yourself, sweetheart.”

For a second time your heart jumps in your chest, when a pair of strong arms grabs you from behind and you sense a broad chest pressed tightly to your back. Startled, you are about to scream, but a huge hand claps over your mouth.

“Surprise, angel,” Joel gruffs in your ear while his arm squeezes your waist. You thrust and shake but all your attempts to break free are fruitless against his strength.

“Keep wriggling, baby, I love feeling your ass, grinding against my dick.”

He hums and pushes his hips into you. You sense his huge bulge and your pussy tingles when you remember what he can do with this cock. Joel’s scent envelops you just like his body and you gush. Yet your hatred for the man overpowers your desire and you keep thrashing in his steel embrace. Your nostrils flare, and searching for help, your pleading eyes dart to Tommy.

To your surprise your stepdad doesn’t rush to help you— he sits up straighter and spreads his thighs wider, while his darkening eyes are sliding up and down your bound body, powerless in Joel’s arms.

You whine, realizing that he’s enjoying it, the view is turning him on. You’re getting worked up as well, feeling yourself small and helpless, fully at the mercy of the two men.

Joel’s arm, wrapped over your arms and under your chest, pushes your breasts up and they almost spill out of your neckline. You can feel your step uncle’s breath on your cleavage, and he’s groaning, probably enjoying the view of your tits. A new surge of arousal makes you press your thighs together. Are they gonna fuck you in your dorm room like it’s some raunchy porn? You really hope so.

Not being able to hide your desire any longer, you make a loud moan, muffled by the hand covering your mouth, but it still electrifies the air in the room, and both men grunt.

As much as you love Joel’s strong back and huge bulge pressed against you, scorching anger rises from the pits of your stomach again, and you try to push him off yourself. Tommy’s watching your weak attempts for a few seconds before taking pity on you.

“Let her talk, Joel.”

The older brother puts his hand away and you exclaim, wriggling in Joel’s arms, trying to break free.

“Let go of me, perv!”

"You had this perv's cock in your mouth and your ass not so long ago," he reminds you, not easing his grip.

"I'm not fucking proud!"

"You should be, angel. You took it like a champ both times."

He emphasizes his words with a thrust of his hips and you growl, trying to hide your arousal.

“Daddy, what the fuck? Why’s he here? Why didn’t you tell him to fuck off?”

Joel tightens his python-like embrace and gruffs in your ear,

“Blood is thicker than water, angel. But you and your “mummy didn’t let me host a party and now Ima fuck her husband” will never understand that.”

“It’s not…you know nothing about me, you asshole.” Your voice strains as the rage suddenly mixes with deep sadness. Trying not to burst into tears you grit your teeth as you explain,

“She ruined my whole life, drove my dad away. She cheated on him and now he’s not even talking to me, just sends money for college. It’s all because of that slut.”

Tommy drops his head and you know that he's feeling sorry for you right now. Your pride pangs but a ray of hope dries your upcoming tears - he cares, he still cares about you.

Joel on the other hand is not sympathetic in the slightest, commenting with a chuckle, "Damn, angel, you're a textbook example of daddy issues.

Not saying we ain't happy, right, brother?" He looks at Tommy and adds, "it got our dicks wet."

You begin thrashing harder and exclaim, “Fuck you!”

“Yeah, you will.”

“Let go of her, Joel,” Tommy commands, steel in his voice, and to your surprise, Joel follows his brother's order immediately.

You hurry away from your step uncle and stand closer to Tommy.

Your eyes dart between the men, as you’re fixing your bunched up clothes, panting heavily after trying to get free.

Joel grabs your chair, plops down and places his booted foot on the edge of your desk with a thud.

You’re glaring at him, trying to convey all disgust and hatred for the man with your expression, but Tommy sighs and your gaze darts to him.

“Daddy,” you whisper, taking a shy step in his direction.

His eyes freeze your heart. He looks serious, too serious for your liking.

Tommy leans on his knees again and starts talking, eyes moving between you and Joel.

“Joel is an asshole, sweetheart, you’re right. But what’s new? I’ve known him all my life and I understand what he’s capable of. Yes, he ruined my marriage but to be honest…I’m glad.”

Your jaw drops as you’re staring at your stepdad, and he continues,

“Life with Jess was suffocating me. I thought I needed to settle down, to start a family but I was wrong. I was happy in Austin. And she…fuck,” he shakes his head with a sigh, “She’s a lot. You’re the best person to know it.”

His eyes set on you and you see a genuine regret and sadness in them. You want to reach for him, hug him, kiss him but he needs you to listen. So you listen.

“In an absolutely horrible way, yes, but Joel helped me to get out of it. I’m gonna lose a lot of money in the settlement but it’s just money.”

“Shoulda got a prenup like I told you,” Joel mumbles.

The longer Tommy speaks, the more you can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“Wait! So now he’s your savior, huh? He manipulates you, Tommy! He says what you want to hear and then stabs you in the back!”

“Baby, the only thing I did behind your back is come in your ass,” Joel smirks and then points his thick finger at you, “And not you talking about fuckin’ loyalty! We had a deal but you weren’t gonna do shit with that recording! I saw your fuckin’ heart eyes. You’d never do it to your precious daddy so I had to do it my way. And it needed to be done!”

You narrow your eyes and clench your fists, barely holding yourself from hitting the man, as you exclaim,

“You sent the pic of me fucking my stepdad to my family group chat, you fucker! My nana’s there! She almost died after seeing that photo!

All you get from your step uncle is another bark of a laugh.

“Who gives a shit? She’s ancient.”

“You motherfuckin’…” you’re about to launch at the men but Tommy rushes up and steps between you and his older brother.

“Stop!” His hands are on your shoulders, his eyes kind and warm. “Calm down, sweetheart. Please.”

You take a deep breath and inch closer to him and Tommy doesn't push you away. He hugs you, pulling you closer to him, and rubs your back with his big hands. You immediately melt in his warm embrace with your cheek pressed to his chest, your arms wrapped around his waist. You bite your lip and squeeze your eyes shut, fighting back tears as a mix of strong emotions- hate, love, desire, rage, fills your heart and you take a deep breath, wishing to find comfort and peace in your stepdad's arms.

You open your eyes and see Joel watching you two, his gaze piercing, expression pensive. You’d give a lot to know what he’s thinking about at the moment. Probably scheming again.

You turn your face away from him and press your cheek to Tommy’s chest.

Suddenly he pulls away and looks down at you, head tilted.

“You hurt me, baby. I needed you, and you left. Even blocked my number.”

You swallow loudly, shifting on your feet, as fear is rising in your chest again. With your eyes downcast, you mumble, “I’m sorry.”

“Are you really?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Are you willing to show us how sorry you are?” He sits back on the bed, manspreading, his gaze dark, intense.

“To you? Yes. But not to him!”

“Sweetheart.” His warning tone binds your pride and you stop fighting what you really want. What your pussy wants.

“Ok, daddy.”

A corner of Tommy’s mouth curves up a little and he says,

“Good girl. Take your clothes off.”

Joel groans and slightly shifts in his chair, making it squeak. You glance at him but your eyes return to Tommy.

You start discarding your clothes piece by piece, gaze locked with your stepdad and he drinks in every exposed part of your body. Your panties fall on the floor last and you step out of them.

Now you’re standing in your dorm room completely naked in a company of the two fully clothed older men. You’re already dripping, the wetness between your thighs is evident just to you for now but you desperately wish for them to discover it.

“We’ve talked enough about Joel. Let’s talk about you, babygirl.”

You feel your stomach twist, nervous about what he might say.

"Have you fucked anyone since you left?" Tommy asks, his expression serious.

"No."

Your stepdad's eyes are darting between yours, searching for any sign of you lying.

"Has anyone fucked you?"

You hate that he doesn't trust you but it's hard to blame him —he knows better than anyone how thirsty you're.

"No, daddy. I promise. I've... only been making myself come, thinking of you. All this time.”

You bite your lower lip and purr, "been imagining you fucking me. Your kisses. Your hands on me. Your cock in my mouth."

Tommy's chest expands and he squirms on the bed. You clasp your hands in front yourself and drop your head down, telling him the truth,

"I've missed you. Still miss you."

"Aww, how sweet," Joel mocks you with a laugh.

Tommy frowns at him and you shoot a fiery glance at the older brother for ruining the moment.

“What about your favourite uncle, angel? Have you fantasized about me?”

"No," you reply without hesitation through the gritted teeth.

"Don't lie," Tommy commands, his tone cold and demanding.

You avert your gaze from them both and look in front of yourself.

"Yes," you admit as your voice is barely audible,

"yes, I did."

Joel's smug grin is noticeable even from your peripheral vision.

"What was it about? Your fantasies?” Tommy asks.

"You both fucking my pussy."

"Damn, angel," Joel groans, palming himself.

“I know my pussy is off limits to Joel. I’m sorry for thinking about it, daddy.”

“It’s ok, sweetheart. You’re allowed to imagine whatever you want.”

You inch closer to Tommy and his eyes slide down from your face to your breasts and then to your wet pussy.

Your stepdad licks his lower lip and a memory of him making you come on his tongue in the darkness of your bedroom overflows the glass of your desire and you kneel slowly between his legs.

“Sweetheart,” Tommy breathes out in surprise but spreads his legs wider for you.

“She remembers well where she belongs,” Joel comments as you feel his hungry gaze on your naked back and ass.

You place your palms on Tommy’s jean-clad thighs and sit on your heels, batting your lashes, before you lower your head to his crotch. You press your cheek to his huge warm bulge and whisper, “let me suck your cock, daddy. I want to apologize.”

Tommy takes a sharp breath and Joel whistles. You feel cold air on your naked pussy and squeeze your thighs together to relieve the ache in your needy center.

Then you nuzzle the stiff lump under his jeans and rub your nose and cheek over it. It twitches against you and a moan escapes your lips. Tommy bucks his hips against your head but then his hand on your cheek stops you.

“We have something else in mind for you, babygirl. You can’t deny that you deserve a punishment, right?”

You drop your eyes in agreement and Tommy continues.

“Your step uncle promised you something that morning when we ehm… had breakfast together.”

You hear the squeak of your chair and then Joel’s heavy steps. The older brother stands next to you two and you lift your head to look at him.

He’s looming over your body, tall and broad and your pussy throbs harder as your eyes involuntarily slide down from his handsome smug face to his broad chest and then huge bulge.

“Get your ass on the bed so I could eat your slutty pussy.”

You scream internally, keeping a straight face, and ask,

“Are you that bad that it’s considered a punishment?”

Joel shifts his jaw and gruffs,

“Let’s hope I won’t bite your clit off, brat.”

You wince and Tommy curses under his breath. Then he pulls you up from your knees and gets up too. You’re standing between the two men, burning up with desire to be used and Tommy doesn’t help you to calm down, when he starts taking off his shirt, leaving only his white tank top on and exposing his thick muscular arms. When you glance back you notice Joel is doing the same, and you softly moan at the sight of his broad torso in a mesh top.

“Moaning like a whore already,” Joel mocks you, stepping up to you and pressing his body to your back and ass.

You gasp but don’t pull away. His hands on your hips slide up and down, until he brings one palm to your pussy and gives your mound a light slap.

“Joel,” you whimper as it sends a wave of arousal through your body.

“You’ve been a bad girl, sweetheart,” Tommy chides you, stepping in front of you.

“Worse than usual?” You purr, biting your lip.

With Joel’s at your back, Tommy presses his hips to yours, sandwiching you between the two brothers and your pussy cries for them so much that you feel your slick run down your inner thigh.

With Joel’s arms wrapped around your torso, Tommy locks eyes with you and you reach for his lips but he immediately pulls away, takes your hand and leads you to the bed.

He sits down, leaning his back on the headboard and pats the place between his legs.

“Get in here, babygirl.”

You want to sit on your knees but suddenly Joel roughly turns you around and pushes you to plop between Tommys legs.

Your stepdad pulls you to lean against his warm chest before Joel kneels on the floor.

“Oh wow, big bad Joel Miller on his knees for me? Not the first time though,” you gloat and Joel grinds his teeth and roughly pulls your hips to the edge of the bed. You gasp as your head slides down Tommy’s chest and your naked breasts jiggle. Joel’s thick fingers dig into your skin as he throws your legs over his shoulders, and your pussy blooms for him. His dark eyes get obsidian with lust, as he glides his palms up and down your thighs.

“Fuck, ya seeing it, Tommy? She wasn’t lying about not fucking. This pussy is desperate for cock. ‘m afraid I’m gonna choke on all this slick,” he comments, not tearing his eyes from your needy cunt.

“I’ll be ok with this outcome,” you grunt as your clit twitches with anticipation.

Joel looks up at you with a sneer and then leans down to your mound. You hold your breath, expecting him to finally start eating you out but his lips land on your inner thigh instead of your waiting cunt. He kisses your skin there and you squirm in Tommy’s arms as Joel’s facial hair tickles you. He gets lower, peppering kisses along your inner thigh, moving closer to your center and you buck your hips to meet him halfway and to finally shove your pussy in his face, but Joel places his big palm on your lower belly and pushes your back on the bed. You hear Tommy’s voice over your head,

“Don’t move, honey. Promise to be a good girl for us, ok?”

“Yes, daddy,” you breathe out and tilt your head up and to the side to look up at him. He’s giving you a warm smile, its effect spreads warmth deep in your belly, but soon it turns into a scorching fire, when Joel’s lips finally latch onto your aching pussy. You gasp and turn to him and the sight almost makes you come. Joel fucking Miller, your asshole step uncle, a mean, selfish, arrogant prick, is on his knees for you, feasting on your wet cunt, lips smacking, tongue gathering all the wetness between your folds.

Already feeling like you’re in heaven, you moan loudly, not caring who might hear and catch you getting a head from your step uncle, while your stepdad’s hands are kneading your breasts and twitching your hard nipples.

“You love it, sweetheart?” Tommy whispers in your ear, as you’re fluttering your eyes shut with pleasure, when Joel’s skillful tongue flicks your throbbing clit and then he sucks it into his mouth.

“Yes—yes—yes,” you chant, almost tasting the climax on your tongue. But a second away from the explosion, Joel parts from your puffy cunt and presses his wet lips to your inner thigh again, kissing and nibbling on it lightly.

“No, Joel, my pussy,” you desperately whine.

“What is it, angel?”

“Make me come, please.”

“Good start but you can do better,” he mumbles while he’s watching his fingers trace your sopping hole. It’s hot but not enough to push you over the precipice.

You grit your teeth but your pride is quickly drowning in the sticky pit of desire.

“Joel, please, please make me come on your tongue. Please, I need it,” you beg and his smile is triumphant and content.

“I’ll do anything for my little niece.”

His mouth returns to your pussy and he grabs your thighs tighter as his tongue swirls your clit around and then slides down to your leaking hole.

“Fuck,” you hear Tommy curse and you feel his stiff cock under your back, he must be so turned on by this.

The older brother starts fucking you with his hot muscle and your hand slithers down to rub your puffy clit but Tommy grabs your wrists and pulls your hands up to your chest, crosses them and keeps them there with his one strong hand.

“Daddy, I wanna come,” you beg the moment Joel’s mouth leaves your pussy again and again whenever you feel so close to ecstasy.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but bad girls don’t get to come so fast,” Tommy smirks and his fingers tighten around your wrists.

You feel tears well up in your eyes, your breaths heavy, belly and chest heaving and your whole body is vibrating in frustration.

“Joel,” you sob and your step uncle lifts his head, his lips, mustache and beard glistening with your juices.

“I’ll give the candy to you, slut. But only if you tell me why you love your uncle Joel so much.”

“What?”

“You heard me, baby.” Joel’s lips are so close but, at the same time so far from where you need him. You curse and whine, grinding your teeth while anger is taking over you again.

Joel hurries you by planting a feather light kiss on your clit and your whole body jerks from a bolt of pleasure but it quickly dissipates, leaving you desperately needing more.

So you cave in.

"You're hot, Joel."

"Yeah, I know. What else?" your step uncle mumbles, drawing a path from your pussy to your knee with his lips.

Tommy chuckles and you squirm in his embrace, annoyed and frustrated.

"You... you're a good fuck."

"Mmm... don't ya think 'great'?"

"Yes. You're a great fuck, Joel."

"You sound like a horny slut, angel," he grumbles, "Hot and a great fuck. Way to objectify your poor uncle. I need more."

His lips travel back down to your cunt and you raise your hips in search of his caress, but Joel pushes you down and Tommy's free arm wraps around your waist tightly.

“Keep still, sweetheart,” he orders and emotions take over your mind and burst out of your mouth.

“Wanna know what I feel? I fucking hate you, Joel. I see myself in you and I fucking hate that. Because it’s like I’m staring at my own future. Just like you I want someone so much that I grab onto them until I realize that they don’t need me. Not as much as I need them. So I lie and manipulate and make them love me. But sooner or later they will see the real me. See my tiny black heart and they will get disappointed and dump me. And I’ll lie and manipulate more to get them back. And it’s a fucking cycle. I’ll never be loved for who I am. Because who I am doesn’t deserve any love.”

Joel freezes with his face between your legs, his expression pensive and serious. If you didn’t know him you’d say you see a trace of sympathy and sadness in his eyes.

“That’s why I hate you, Joel. And you know what’s funny? It’s that I can’t get you out of my fucking mind.”

You want to puke at how vulnerable you’re feeling, baring your soul and body to him. You turn your pained face to your stepdad and say,

“I can’t stop thinking about both of you. Is it love? It’s hard to understand. I’ve never experienced anything like this. Tommy, you’re fucking perfect and I made you suffer and I hate what I did to your life.”

You burst into sobs and your stepdad grabs you by the arms and manhandles you to get on his lap. Joel gets up and sits on the bed.

Tommy’s holding you close, your cheek pressed to his naked chest, peeking out the tank top, that you’re soaking with your tears.

He’s rubbing your shoulder with his hand and softly says,

“I'm not perfect. I’m a piece of shit. I should’ve never done what I did to you. We shouldn’t have. And it’s my fault for getting you into this mess.”

You throw your hands around his neck and start crying harder, mumbling through sobs and whimpers,

“No, please— don’t say that you regret it— regret us—don’t leave me like everyone else, please, daddy.”

“I won’t, babygirl. I’m sorry for… for everything. I love you. I’ll be there for you. Always.”

His arms tighten around you and he kisses everywhere he can reach — your forehead,

your temple, your nose until you tilt your face up and he finds your lips. He’s gentle with you, and you kiss him back, smearing your tears over his face but none of you cares. You’re caressing each other, drowning in the comfort of the embrace and the kiss.

When you part from him you press your nose into the crease of his neck and breathe in his scent, nestling into his big body. While sobs still crawl up your throat from time to time, Tommy wipes the wetness off your face and covers your naked body with a bedspread.

For a few minutes it’s quiet in the room, and when you calm down, you turn your red eyes to Joel, surprised that he hadn’t said anything assholish yet.

You find him watching you with curiosity and now you’re sure. He’s upset too.

A strange feeling envelops you. You want to hug him, feel the warmth of his body and share yours with him. But it’s not your relationship, not the way you connect. So you narrow your eyes and croak,

“Do you know how creepy you look when you’re staring like this, perv?”

You give him a little smile and notice a corner of his mouth slightly rising too.

“You surprised me, angel. Jus’ one month without a cock and you go completely nuts. Crying and shit. Throwing ‘L-words’ around.”

Now you’re both smiling at each other.

“Fuck off.”

“Ok, she’s back,” he says and slaps your ass over the fabric. “Ya know, your tears are golden, angel. Any man will do whatever you want if you cry like that.”

“It was genuine, asshole,” you snap back but there’s no bite to it. You feel lighter, all the pent up frustration and pain left your body and were wiped away by your stepdad’s warm embrace and Joel’s quiet support.

The only emotion that’s still tormenting you is desire. You squirm in Tommy’s lap and the bedspread falls off your shoulder revealing your naked breasts.

“Do you want us to leave, sweetheart?” Tommy asks and his breath caresses your tits.

“No, no, please, I want— .”

“What do you want?”

“I want you. I want you both.”

You look at your stepdad and notice him and Joel exchange glances.

“I think I owe you something, baby,” Joel gruffs and you turn to him and the shine in his beard reminds you of his lips on your pussy. The thought sets your core ablaze and you turn back to Tommy.

“Daddy?” you purr and the man nods.

“But no playing around this time, Joel,” Tommy warns his brother with a serious tone.

‘Course. Hop on my face, cry baby, I ain’t kneeling again.”

He lies down next to Tommy, shoulder to shoulder, and you almost squeal with excitement, throwing the cover off. Tommy leans back on the bed and you tell Joel to scoot lower.

“Wanna play with daddy’s cock.”

“Jesus, angel, is there anything you can do without daddy’s cock?”

You don’t reply and plant your knees on either side of Joel’s head.

A rush of dominance goes through your body when you see your step uncle in this position.

“Finally I’m gonna shut you up,” you smirk and lower your hips slowly, eager for your pussy to meet his smug grin.

Yet Joel is not the one to give up control easily and his hands grab your thighs and he pulls you onto his face. Having teased you before, now he doesn’t play at all and starts passionately making out with your sopping cunt, drawing gasps and moans out of your mouth. With his mouth open wide he stimulates you with a perfect suction while his tongue swirls your throbbing clit around.

You are reduced to a whimpering mess in a matter of seconds and you go so high and so fast that you need to ground yourself.

“Daddy,” you call.

“I’m here, sweetheart.”

Tommy unzips his jeans, trying not to fall off the bed, and takes out his cock.

It’s throbbing, the head glistening with smeared pre cum, and you spit on your hand and wrap your fingers around it. You give his manhood a few pumps, and Tommy moans, but Joel gets your full attention, when his tongue prods your clenching hole and then pushes inside you as deep as it’ll go. He starts fucking you with it and you ride his face, rhythmically bumping your clit against his prominent nose.

“Daddy, I can’t,” you whine, failing to concentrate on two acts at once.

“Don’t worry, I got you,” Tommy mumbles and his hand wraps around yours and he starts moving them together up and down his stiff shaft. His head is resting against the headboard but his half-lidded eyes are sliding between your pussy, crying into Joel’s mouth, and the unity of your hands, pleasuring his cock.

Your other hand is clenching your step uncle’s hair and your tits bounce as you increase the pace of riding his face.

You almost there when Tommy pulls your hand off his cock, sits up and mumbles, kissing your palm and panting,

“Oughta stop— too good— wanna come in your pussy.”

“Delicious little cunt,” Joel growls and starts rubbing your clit with the flat of his tongue, up and down, up and down, and you cry out his name, as euphoria bursts in your core and spreads like wildfire all over your body. You’re sobbing with pleasure, trembling over your step uncle's face, dripping juices onto his lips and he drinks them, slurping and groaning.

When the climax subsides you move off Joel’s face and Tommy takes you in his arms. The men are still fully clothed, except for their exposed cocks. You look down Joel's body and realize that he has been stroking his huge hard manhood while eating you out and your core reignites.

Tommy searches for your eyes.

“Do you feel better, sweetie?”

You nod with a tired smile and in a moment your lips crash against his and you kiss while his hands are hungrily roaming your sweat-covered body, your fingers running through his curls.

Not parting from your lips, Tommy brings his hand to your pussy and your legs fly apart. You shift in his embrace, now your back flush against his chest, lips still glued to his, and you moan when he slowly inserts two fingers into your hole, avoiding your oversensitive clit.

You sense a movement and open your eyes to see your step uncle get up.

“Mmm, Joel stretched you well with his tongue,” Tommy murmurs against your mouth. “Your pussy probably can take two cocks now.”

You pull away and stare at him.

“Two cocks, daddy? Do you mean..?”

“Two fat dicks, angel.”

Your head darts to Joel while Tommy’s fingers are still massaging you from the inside and the older brother laughs, lighting a cigarette, standing next to the bed,

“We gonna stuff your needy cunt so full, your belly’ll look like ya 4 months pregnant.”

He takes a drag while his free hand is wrapped around his huge hard cock.

Their words are ringing in your ears- ‘two cocks, your pussy.”

Your head snaps back to Tommy as you plead, “Please-please-daddy-yes-I want it. My pussy can take it, please, please.”

Your brows are pulled together and big needy eyes are glossy with desire. Tommy smiles at you with adoration in his warm dark gaze.

“We can try, sweetheart.”

“Fuck, angel. Your cock hunger sometimes surprises even me. And I know what a giant slut you’re.”

You don’t tear your eyes off Tommy as he coos at you while his fingers are playing with your soaked cunt,

“We still should prepare you. You know we are big. Especially now.”

“Now?”

“Look at you, my beautiful girl. Our cocks are throbbing hard just because of you.”

He leans lower and his lips brush your ear.

“I barely hold myself from taking you right now.” His fingers are moving inside you, slowly at first but gradually increasing the speed.

“My cock demands your little pussy. I’m so close to just sticking it deep in your sweet cunt and using you, taking what I need from you.”

“Fuck, daddy,” you whisper, closing your eyes and spreading your thighs wider, offering yourself to his hand.

You feel him add two more fingers, four inside you now, and the stretch makes you whine but the dull pain adds to the pleasure.

“Yeah, good girl,” Tommy praises you and kisses your cheek, his hand still working tirelessly, preparing your hole for them and bringing you closer to another climax.

You turn your head and see Joel smoking and watching you getting fingered.

His obsidian eyes lock with yours and he winks at you.

“Lemme help you, brother. ‘m afraid to split her poor pussy in half with my dick.”

He bends down and you gasp when you see his meaty hand move to the place where Tommy’s fingers are already stretching you to the limit.

“Joel,” your scared mewl mixes with the squelching noises of your sopping cunt.

“He’s gonna be gentle,” Tommy commands his older brother, and Joel humms absentmindedly as his thick middle finger prods your entrance over Tommy’s digits.

“C’mon, angel, breathe for me. Yeah, good slut, relax your hungry cunt.”

You do as he says and soon you watch his finger disappear inside you, joining Tommy’s digits. With an open mouth you watch two brothers fuck your stretched hole. You grip their wrists, not to stop but to encourage them to keep going.

Tommy's voice is strained with lust when he groans,

“Shit, honey. Listen to her. She’s crying for more. My fingers are drenched.”

His words send you spiraling into the depth of arousal and when the heel of Joel’s hand hits your clit, you cry out. Your body is shaking, your nails scratching their wrists, your face twisting with euphoria.

“Yeah, jus’ like that, little slut. Happy pussy, happy dicks, yeah?”

You barely hear Joel, after two orgasms your brain is mush. Through the fog in your head you hear Tommy’s voice,

“You sure you still want it? Honey, yes or no?”

You nod because of course you do. The way they make you feel when you fuck is the best thing you’ve experienced in your life, the brightest, the richest pleasure. You feel needed, desired, like they will never leave you. Never will be able to exist without you.

“You need to say it, baby, c’mon,” Tommy coos, “Need to hear it.”

“Yes. Please, fuck me both. Fuck my tight pussy.”

“Ain’t so tight anymore, angel,” Joel laughs, “but it’ll snap back after we done with her.”

He gives you a reassuring slap on the thigh and you smile, too spent to talk.

The men get undressed and then manhandle you into straddling Tommy. You kiss him as soon as you’re close, moaning into his mouth as if tasting him is your basic need, one thing you can’t live without. You both seem to get lost in it until you hear Joel’s grumble.

“Quit it, lovebirds. Let’s get to fuckin’.” He’s next to the bed and you turn your head, ogling his gorgeous cock.

“Soon my dick and your sweet cunt will meet, angel. Let’s make their first time special, yeah?”

He tilts your head up with his fingers, bends down and kisses you passionately. You missed his taste, mixed with yours now, missed his lips, his scent, enveloping you. Your pussy aches for him as much as for Tommy and you might hate to admit it but your heart craves him too. His fire is as scolding as it is addictive and you want him to destroy you, in whatever way he wishes.

You wrap your arms around his thick neck and kiss him, really kiss him, like you’re surrendering yourself to him.

Suddenly he lifts you with his strong arms, throws your legs around his waist and starts devouring your mouth like an offering.

You feel his hot cock pulsating between your bodies and you mumble against his lips,

“Fuck me, Joel. Ruin me.”

With a growl he helps you to sit back on Tommy’s thighs.

Your stepdad’s eyes dart between yours as he cups your cheek, “ya making me jealous, sweetheart,” with a smirk he adds, “I love it.”

He’s not lying, judging by the way his hard cock is smearing precum over your belly, and you smile, taking it in your hand and lifting your hips.

Joel encourages you, his heavy hand on your shoulder,

“Yeah, like that, baby.”

Eyes locked with Tommy’s you sink on his shaft in one go and you both moan, joined at last, relishing this sensation.

“Fuck, you’re wet, babygirl. So warm.” You press your tits to his chest, nuzzling his neck and start moving on his length, up and down, slowly and steadily. His hands grab your ass and he kneads and spreads your asscheeks while his low moaning in your ear makes your head spin.

“Ahhh—That’s my good girl—sweet pussy—riding me so well—missed it—hnggg.”

Then he looks up at his brother and grunts,

“Fuck, let’s do it, Joel, gonna come soon.”

“Daddy was celibate just like you, angel. Savin’ his dick for his dear stepdaughter,” Joel chuckles, stepping on the bed and getting on his knees behind you with a grunt. “Miracle that he didn’t bust a nut yet.”

“Fuck off,” Tommy groans and adds, “hope we won’t break the bed,” he smiles at you but you couldn’t care less about it.

“Daddy, what should I do now?”

Instead of Tommy, Joel replies, “Lie forward and enjoy, baby. Your daddies gonna do all the work.”

Tommy nods with a reassuring smile and you lean on his chest, your eyes locked.

Tommy’s cock twitches inside you when you feel Joel’s hands grip your hips and his fat tip prod your already full pussy.

“Be careful, Joel,” Tommy says as his hand rubs your cheek and he stares into your widened eyes.

He moves his thumb to your lips and says, “Suck, my love.”

You feel butterflies in your belly, hearing the pet name, and take his thick finger between your lips and start sucking. It instantly calms you down.

At this moment Joel pushes his tip fully in and you whine around your stepdad's thumb.

“Shhh, the head’s the meatiest part, angel. Now it’ll slide in like a knife through butter.”

Surprisingly enough he’s not lying. The burning you felt before subsides and with his fingers digging into your hips, Joel parts your walls, inserting his whole cock into your slicked up pussy and bottoms out with a roar.

“Fuck me,” he growls and laughs, “My little niece has a perfect hole.”

He slaps your ass lightly and your pussy clamps around their fat cocks, making both of them groan.

“Oh my god, I’m so full,” your voice is shaky, endorphins already coursing through your body.

“Yes, sweetheart, you did it. Shit, it’s so tight inside you now. It feels amazing.” Tommy’s head falls back against the headboard as his eyes flutter shut.

You almost giggle at how great it feels, then take a deep breath and whine,

“Fuck me, please.”

“Damn, you don’t have to ask twice, baby,” Joel gruffs and pulls his cock out almost to the tip before rolling his hips back into you.

The sensation almost sends you over the precipice. You squeeze your eyes shut, your nails scratching Tommy’s chest, and he hisses and thrusts his hips up into you. You gasp when they both start moving and in a few moments the brothers find a perfect rhythm of fucking your stretched hole, their stiff cocks, sliding in and out of your channel, are drawing moans and whimpers out of your open lips.

While Joel is concentrating on balancing his weight on his knees and stuffing your hole, Tommy makes sure to kiss and lick every spot he can reach. His tongue swirls around your nipples, hands grab your flesh, teeth nip your skin. He paints your neck with hickeys, gently kissing the pain away, until his lips reach yours and he kisses you, while the two cocks are fucking you.

Joel interrupts your kiss when his hand wraps around your throat and he pulls you closer to him. Your back arches and you look up at his face, hovering over yours, as he growls,

“Here’s my sweet niece— our pretty fuck doll.”

He begins snapping his hips into you harder, faster sending his cock deeper and Tommy follows his suit, thrusting his member up into your pussy with the same rhythm.

“I told him ya a slut—ahhh, fuck— and look at ya,” he smirks, ruining your pussy, holding your neck tightly, “his good girl’s bouncing on two big dicks, pleading to be fucked like a whore she is.”

“Dreams do come true,” you mumble back with a hazy smile.

Suddenly Tommy’s fingers swirl around your clit and the sensation together with the filthy words, spilling out of Joel’s mouth, pushes you over the edge and you come, harder than ever, trembling between the men, squeezing their cocks with your pulsating pussy while tears of bliss stream down your cheeks.

With a groan Joel licks a tear off your face and pushes you on Tommy’s chest before immediately exploding into your core, spurting warm cum deep inside you.

While you’re still shaking with your orgasm, Tommy embraces your body tightly and begins coming too, pumping you full of his load. Both men are thrusting, the rhythm uneven and hectic, and you’re milking their cocks until their balls are empty. You feel bloated with the amount of cum they squirted into you and soon it starts leaking out around their cocks and sliding down your thighs.

Gradually your climax dissipates while the men are still inside you. The room gets filled with heavy breathing of the three of you. Joel’s manhood slides out of your pussy first and he tilts your head to him and plants a quick kiss on your lips.

“Keep ‘er plugged, brother,” Joel gruffs, getting up, plops in your chair and lights another cigarette. “Happily,” Tommy murmurs into your ear, before he starts peppering soft kisses along your neck. You giggle when his mustache is tickling you, and to make him stop, you press your lips to his and you make out while his softening manhood is still buried deep inside you, in the pool of their cum.

Joel doesn’t ruin this post-orgasmic moment between his younger brother and you, the room is quiet except for the sounds of lip smacking and him smoking. And you’re grateful to him.

When you finally part from each other, Tommy helps you to lie down next to him. The mess between your legs makes you whine and Tommy gets you some tissues and helps you to clean yourself.

Then you settle down next to him on the bed, your cheek on his shoulder and your leg thrown over his thigh.

Meanwhile Joel puts his jeans back on without zipping them up and rests in the chair.

Tommy and you don’t care about the clothes, both reveling in the afterglow. Your eyes are closing when suddenly Tommy asks,

“Do you have any plans for thanksgiving holidays?”

You blink a few times trying to understand the question and gather your thoughts.

“I…Mel invited me to spend them with her family… but I don’t know. Why?” You tilt your head up to look at him.

“I’m moving back to Austin. Gonna live with Joel for now until I find my own place. Maybe you can visit me there. Us.”

Your heart sings and stomach flutters with excitement when you hear his invitation.

“Sounds nice,” you murmur, barely keeping yourself from squealing. Then you look at Joel.

“Would you mind?”

His piercing eyes slide along your naked body, linger on your lips and then lock with yours.

“I wouldn’t. Always nice to have a good pussy in the house.”

You roll your eyes and Tommy shoots Joel a glare before talking to you again,

“What about Christmas?”

You try to hide a wide grin, biting your lower lip.

“You might meet someone by then, daddy. Get yourself a girlfriend,” you murmur, drawing hearts on his chest with your index finger.

“I won’t. I don’t need anyone else.”

He places his hand under your jaw and tilts your head up.

“You’re the only one I need, sweetheart.”

You’re searching for lies in his eyes or his words but don’t find any. Your throat tightens and tears sting your eyes but you blink them away and reach up to give him a kiss. You pour all your love into it, need and desire in every stroke of your lips and tongue.

A few minutes in heaven are interrupted by Joel’s gruff voice,

“Before you swallow each other whole, let’s go find a bar and get me a drink.”

You giggle against Tommy’s lips and turn to your step uncle.

“I know a good place.”

You try to get up but your legs are still weak from all the orgasms, your pussy sore from the double-cock-pounding, so you almost fall, but Tommy’s strong arms help you up.

The brothers smirk and exchange glances, visibly proud of what they’ve done to you, when you stagger to the wardrobe. You’re still leaking and the thought that their cum is going to seep out of your pussy for days, makes you smile.

“Wear something slutty for us, angel,” Joel orders, putting on his mesh top. Then you feel his bulge press to your naked ass as he whispers against your cheek, “And no panties. Wanna play with your messy cunt under the table.”

The vision painted by your mind sends a shiver through your body and your clit twitches.

“Ok, uncle,” you agree and he lightly slaps your ass.

“Good little slut.”

Already dressed, Tommy comes up to your two and you turn around to the men. Joel’s bulge pokes your hip and his sticky gaze slides up and down your body. Tommy places his hand on your asscheek and gives it a gentle squeeze, cooing at you with a warm smile,

“Our good girl.”

You bite your lip, batting your lashes at the men, and purr with a mischievous smile,

“We’re gonna have so much fun together.”

Thank you for reading!❤️ Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! l'd love to hear your thoughts🌺💕

Part 5 || SERIES MASTERLIST |I Tommy’s Visit MASTERLIST

Tag list for the series:@milla-frenchy @iamasaddie @koshkaj-blog @survivingandenduring @nana90azevedo @mermaidgirl30 @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @obscurexsorrows @tammythr @ratoonstown @anama-cara @pedge-page @huskyfox5 @ashleyfilm @neverwheremoonchild @stevie75 @untamedheart81 @puduvallee @theoraekenslover @eloquentdreamer @ashhlsstuff @evolnoomym @pinkiec6-rubi @guelyury

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#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x reader #tommy miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #tommy miller x reader #Joel miller x reader x tommy miller #pedro pascal characters #tommy miller x you #joel miller x you #the last of us #bad blood series

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icarryitin · 4 months

Text

Help Me?

spencer reid/gn!reader

i love being in this guy’s brain there is just something so Character about him🧡 and happy birthday to you anon!!🥳

series masterlist

word count: 4.5k // warnings: injury description (dislocated shoulder), mentions of injections and pills for pain relief, poor and inaccurate medical knowledge, non-sexual undressing, would you believe me if i told you the sexual tension in the second half of this was accidental? for those reasons this is 18+

summary: You get injured on a case, and Spencer gets to play nurse. It’s a special kind of torture for both of you.

“Try it, see what happens.”

You appear out of the shadows ahead of them, the gun in your hands aimed carefully at the Unsub’s back, like a goddamn guardian angel.

The guy isn’t going to give up without a fight, even with three federal agents to contend with, that much is obvious. His grip on his weapon is far shakier than any of yours, fingers twitching ever closer to the trigger. You’ve made the split second decision to launch yourself at him before he has the chance to fire off a shot.

Which means Spencer has a front row seat to the sickening thud of your side against the ground when you tackle the Unsub. He’s grateful that he and Hotch aren’t staring down the barrel of a gun anymore, but less grateful that it’s come at the price of the grimace clear on your face. You’ll be bruised for sure, going down as hard as you do.

“Are you okay?” Hotch asks you as he hauls the Unsub up by his cuffed wrists. You take a moment to check yourself over, mentally inventory every joint and nerve, before you nod. Spencer holds a hand out towards you, which is taken without hesitation and you start pulling yourself up off the ground.

The crack of your shoulder as it pops out of the socket is so loud that the vibration of it tingles through your interlaced fingers and all the way up to his own.

A sharp yelp, followed by a weak whimper that makes his stomach flip, and he drops your hand like it’s scalding hot. You pull it into your chest with your good arm, palm cradling your elbow to give yourself a little support. Maybe you’d hit the ground a little harder than you meant to. It’s definitely dislocated. He can’t help but feel like it’s his fault.

Maybe that’s why he’s manoeuvring around you, where you sit pouting in a dusty heap. It’s what he tells himself anyway, as he slips large hands underneath your FBI vest – fingers pressed snugly against your ribs, separated by only a thin shirt, and he carefully helps you to your feet. The action has his face dangerously close to yours, so close that he’s terrified you’ll be able to hear how shallow his breaths are. But you seem to be far too focused on your own breathing to really register his proximity. Hotch is ahead already, Unsub in tow, but you’re the only thing Spencer is worried about right now. Someone else can collect the abandoned firearm from the ground, he has more important things to do. Like getting you into the care of a professional instead of his clumsy hands.

“Can you walk?”

A rhetorical question if he’s ever asked one. It’s your arm he’s pulled out of the socket, not a leg. You nod anyway, gently, but you don’t pull away from him. Instead your voice is soft, unsure.

“Help me?”

Of course he does, as if he’d be able to do anything else.

Does he really need to keep a hold on you, help you across the warehouse floor and out to an ambulance? Probably not. Does he do it anyway? Absolutely. You don’t seem to mind the closeness, judging by the way you lean into the solidity of him as the two of you shuffle towards the open door. He relishes in it, just a little. Because for all the camaraderie and familiarity that has built your friendship over the past few years, touches like this are so rare. Rare and usually instigated by you, when a case has hit him a little too close to home. It’s precious. To have you in his arms the way he’s wanted, wished for, literally dreamed about. There’s an irony in his earlier misplaced attempt to help you up, somewhere. Why can he only have you this close when one of you is hurting?

Raised eyebrows from the rest of the team be damned, he’ll carry you to the ambulance if he has to. He doesn’t but he’d try if you asked.

Spencer has seen all manner of terrible things. He’s seen them happen to strangers, friends, he’s been the one under the spotlight more than once. But he finds himself wholly unprepared to watch you wince as you hop up onto the back of the ambulance, legs dangling over the edge, arm still cradled protectively close to your chest. You flinch almost violently when the paramedic approaches you with outstretched hands which, in turn, only makes you hiss in pain. Your apology is small, quiet, sheepish. Everything he knows you not to be, which only makes him feel that much worse about being the reason you’re in this position in the first place. He’s not, the little logical voice in his brain tells him it was the fall you took, but he’s the one who offered to help you up. Can’t take that back.

“Do you have to?” You’re arguing with the paramedic when his brain checks back in to the conversation.

A sling has been placed by the open medical bag beside you, but it’s the object next to it that has your eyes wider than dinner plates. A needle, carefully sealed in its little package, ready and waiting to give you the pain relief that all three of you know you’re in desperate need of. There’s no way your shoulder can be reset here without it.

“You look at dead bodies all day, and you’re telling me you’re afraid of this?” The paramedic means well, he knows she does, but the grating sound of the sterile packaging being ripped open only serves to shrink you away from it even further.

“Phobias are rarely rational. In fact, the dictionary definition refers to one as being an extreme or irrational fear of, or aversion to, something. Phobias relating to medical procedures are pretty common actually.”

The barely hidden eye roll he gets from the paramedic would suggest he’s not helping the situation, but it’s the look that you give him. The one he gets across coroner slabs and conference tables and crime scenes, that tells him he is.

“I wouldn’t be offended if you didn’t want to, considering this is kind of my fault,” Spencer holds his hand up between you, wiggling his fingers in front of a sad little smile, “But squeeze away.”

“I don’t know, I might break it.” You’re going for a light-hearted joke, but your gritted teeth pay you no favours.

“Then we’ll call it even.”

You take his hand, and he wonders if he’ll need to ask the paramedic to break out the defibrillator next – judging by the way his heart stutters in his chest.

And, to your credit, you only almost break it. The first squeeze is tight, muscles in your forearm trembling as the needle plunges deep into your shoulder. It won’t be enough to completely numb you, the paramedic confirms, but it’ll go a fair way towards dulling the pain. You should really go to a hospital, a bodge job in the back of an ambulance isn’t exactly Bureau protocol, but he knows that isn’t happening. God forbid you ever get shot, he’s sure that getting you treated properly for something like that would be more traumatic for you than any injury.

The second squeeze isn’t something he’s prepared for. You hang onto his hand as though your life depends on it once the paramedic has decided the painkillers have kicked in enough, though her fingers on your shoulder still have you tensing. She tells you to relax, uselessly. Instead, you turn your head away, bury it into Spencer’s shoulder, and dig your nails into the back of his hand. His knuckles crack under the pressure, synchronised popping absolutely miniscule compared to the thunderous pop your shoulder gives when the paramedic manipulates it back into place. Tears seep through his shirt as they dampen his shoulder, the tension in your jaw gives away the sob you’re biting back. You swallow it before you pull your face from the security of his warmth – brave face, as always – and dutifully allow the paramedic to tug the Kevlar vest over your head to make way for the sling she’s prepared.

You’re too on edge to really pay attention to the instructions she’s giving you, too preoccupied on slowing your heart rate to hear about the over the counter pain meds you should take, how long you need to keep the sling on. So, Spencer listens. He remembers, as he always does. He nods and tells her he’ll make sure you do everything by the book, because he knows you won’t be on your way to the doctor’s office in a hurry if your recovery doesn’t go to plan.

JJ popping up in your field of vision seems to lighten your mood, the stiffness falls away and you choke out a laugh alongside a sarcastic comment about heroics being above your paygrade. It’s fake, the laughter. Your spine is still rigid, smile a little too tight to be true. But nobody else seems to notice. They’re just glad you’re alright. Something about your rapid mood change scratches an itch in his brain, the smallest part of it that’s just a little smug. Because you don’t let on about your fear to the others. Just him.

Spencer piles into the back of the second SUV after you, behind Rossi and Emily, and takes it upon himself to make sure you’re strapped in. Admittedly, you could manage it yourself, but he doesn’t want you to. There are eyes on the back of his head when he leans over to carefully pull the seatbelt across you, when he makes sure to steer clear of your sling, but they’re easy to ignore when you’re watching him the way you are. Your quiet affirming hum follows the click of the seat belt plug when you meet his questioning gaze, calming the pounding in his chest and he doesn’t pull back right away. Involuntarily, his eyes drop to your lips for the barest of moments.

He could kiss you.

Right here, right now. In the back of the SUV, with your arm in a sling, and your colleagues watching on. He could do it. But he doesn’t.

He knows what he wants your first kiss to be like – a little pocket of his brain is dedicated to it, plays scenario after scenario in the moments before he settles down to sleep every night. Silly little bedtime stories.

Except they’re not silly, because somewhere along the way he stumbled out of his harmless little crush and into something much more serious. He knows what it is, he won’t put a name to it. Instead, he daydreams. It’s not always the same, the location varies - sometimes you’re at work, in the bullpen or the conference room, or obscured from the rest of the team by the metallic bulk of an SUV. Sometimes you’re in his apartment, in the kitchen, by the window in the living room, in the doorway of his bedroom. Sometimes it’s just a street corner, at night, at midday, dawn, dusk. But you, you’re always the same. You always look at him with a smile that could light the entire city, and he just tells you.

Spills his guts out all over the floor, every part of him left raw and vulnerable, as he tells you he loves you - has always loved you. Maybe even before he met you. He tells you how his heart stopped in his chest that first morning you walked into the BAU office, how he nearly spilled his coffee down his shirt, how his glasses steamed up with the heat from his cheeks. How Derek, JJ, Garcia, the entire team has been teasing him for literal years. How sometimes he thinks he catches you looking at him, but that’d be just too good to be true wouldn’t it?

And then your smile grows, and you take a step further into his space until there’s scarcely any room between you. That’s when you tell him you do look at him, you look at him all the time. Because you love him, just as hopelessly and desperately and effortlessly as he loves you. That’s when he kisses you. When he grasps your face in his hands and takes a deep breath of you before crashing into you with a bruising force. You take it, of course you do, just as eagerly as he pours himself into it. The kiss of a lifetime. That’s how he’d do it.

But he can’t do any of that, not now.

So, he pulls back, plugs his own seatbelt in, and lets himself wallow in the post-case stillness that settles in the car. Punctuated by Penelope’s voice through the speaker on your phone though it may be. She’s relieved, a little mad that you’d put yourself in harm’s way, but ultimately glad you’re safe. He smiles to himself at that, he can’t help but agree.

Quantico’s parking garage is dark this time of night, of course it would be, but the chill of the concrete seeps into his bones. You shiver beside him as he helps you slide out of the SUV. Goodbyes are short, sweet, exhausted. Each member of the team wandering towards their own vehicles, leaving you and Spencer standing alone under the fluorescent lights.

“Let’s get you home, superhero.” He grins at you as his hand settles gently on the small of your back, guiding you towards the street exit.

It’s not far to the train station, the streets are still busy even at this time of night. Tourists and businessmen and politicians all alike. But you don’t get jostled in the slightest, he makes sure of it - carefully weaving through the throngs to get you safely to your platform. It’s only as he steps onto the train with you that you realise his own home is in the complete opposite direction. It’s borderline unfair how fuzzy he feels at your concern for his own journey.

“I said I was getting you home, not getting you to the station.” He can’t help the fond smile that settles on his features as you look up at him from your seat. He’s chosen to stand, partially in front of you, as a sort of makeshift barrier between your injured arm and any potential commuters who might stumble into you. He holds his hand out to you expectantly and it takes you another moment to fish your keys out of your bag. They’re placed softly in his palm, your fingers barely brushing his. The touch is so gentle compared to the way you almost squeezed that same hand to death only a couple of hours earlier. He just about manages to suppress the shudder that threatens to buckle his knees, and he counts his lucky stars that your building is only a block away from the train’s destination.

The thought only occurs to Spencer when he’s halfway over the threshold of your apartment, too preoccupied with getting you back safely to realise he’s actually never been in your home before. Organised chaos is the term he’d use. The open plan kitchen and living area is tidy but cluttered, books of every genre piled on shelves with no real strategy, a haphazard stack of second hand vinyls that are mostly Tom Waits sit atop an old record player, a small collection of cacti in mismatched terracotta pots are lined up on your little kitchen windowsill. The cupboards are a deep green, which should really be at odds with the peach tinged wash on the walls, but the combination is just soft enough to work. It’s very you.

“I can take care of myself, you don’t have to stay.”

Your name leaves his lips in the same tone it usually does before he can stop it, the same heavy sigh that wraps around the letters more often than not. God, you know exactly how to push his buttons, even when you don’t mean to. You’re missing the point entirely – he wants to take care of you. It’s so rare that you let him.

“Nice try,” He says as he sets your work bag down on one of the chairs at the round kitchen table, “Get changed, I’ll fix up some dinner.”

“You will?” The teasing grin on your face is either because you don’t think he can cook, or because you can’t. He’s leaning towards the former.

“Hey, I’m a man of many talents.”

You stand there for another long few seconds, just watching him. It’s not dissimilar to the look you gave him at the ambulance, in the SUV, on the train home. Like there’s something you’re desperate to say to him; only, you’re not sure how to say it. So you turn on your heel and close the bedroom door behind you.

Spencer physically has to shake off the weight of your gaze before he can move again, even after you’re gone. His own bag finds its place beside yours, jacket folded and draped neatly over the back of the metal chair. It’s the kind of dining set he’d expect to see outside a Parisian cafe, as opposed to being tucked in the corner of a DC apartment. Chipped white metalwork and all, probably originally a garden set, but it fits the eclectic thrift store vibe you’ve curated throughout the space. He finds himself drifting towards your overstuffed bookshelf, to the beat up record player and the pile of albums - the protective sleeve of each one shabbier than the last. He’d been right at first glance, the collection is mostly second-hand Tom Waits albums - with a little Queen, The Magnetic Fields, and Fleetwood Mac in the mix. The album on top is the most dog-eared, and he doesn’t have to employ a single one of his profiling skills to know this one is the most loved, most played, and he’s sure you’ll appreciate the comfort of some background noise. So he’s concentrating on sliding the record out of the sleeve, carefully placing it onto the turntable, and setting the needle down.

The bluesy first bars of Tom Waits’ Heartattack and Vine fill the room at the same time you open the bedroom door, looking more than a little sorry for yourself. And, to his credit, Spencer does a pretty good job of not laughing at the picture of you in the open doorway.

You’ve got yourself tangled up, all wrinkled shirtsleeves and oozing embarrassment - one sleeve dangles empty by your side where the other is still firmly encased by the sling, your sole free arm pokes out of the bottom of your sweater. Your eyebrows are drawn as you look everywhere but at him.

“Can you…?” You trail off. A breath pushes its way out of your lungs, half-sigh and half-helpless laugh.

“Come on.” He erases the distance between you in two strides, hands turning you at the waist before he can even really think about what he’s doing. You shuffle into the room ahead of him, soft rug shielding your socked feet from the cold of the wooden floor. He’s pleased to find the same decorative tastes extend through to your bedroom.

Another bookshelf, also stuffed to the brim with enough material to start your own bookstore. A little wooden desk by the window paired with a chair that doesn’t match, the wall to the right of it is plastered in multicoloured post it notes - a few of them catch his eye, reminders and ideas and shopping lists. Your bedspread is the same dark green as your kitchen cabinets, although it’s mostly obscured by a mess of patchwork blankets and jewel toned decorative pillows. Your sunshine plush has pride of place balanced against the left-hand bedpost on top of the headboard. Even without an eidetic memory, he’d remember the look on your face when he won it for you. Undercover at a travelling carnival in Oregon, the job at hand was to lure out an Unsub whose tastes fit you to a T, but he’d been uncharacteristically powerless to resist at least trying to get something for you. Your cover was a couple, anyway. He’d only been in character. Not only do you still have it, but it has pride of place, and something about it has his pride rearing its head.

You’re fussing with your pyjamas, a threadbare hoodie and garishly patterned sweatpants, when he turns his attention back to you. The reality of the situation seems to hit you both in the same moment.

Spencer is going to have to undress you.

It’s not how he imagined it would be - and that is definitely not something he needs to think about right now. He could keep his eyes closed? Although not being able to see where he should put his hands is arguably more dangerous than it would be to pay attention. He has to clear his throat before he can find his voice.

“I’m going to have to take this off,” He gestures to the sling, hoping he sounds less noticeably wrecked to you than he does to himself, “But we’ll go slow, okay?”

It’s cruel, is what it is, to watch you nod your agreement, to witness your unshakeable trust that he won’t hurt you so closely. Ultimately, it’s not overly different to the way he checks over your protective vest. There’s a strategy, a system to it just the same as the task that lies ahead, and he’ll follow it step by scientific step.

The sling is first, straps carefully undone and the support sliding off your arm - you both support it, your elbow in his palm where yours settles under your wrist. The one free hand you have between you, Spencer’s, works your shirt up over your uninjured shoulder and tugs it over your head. His eyes never drift beyond what you’ve asked of him, though it isn’t for lack of temptation. He slides the remaining sleeve off of your injured arm with a touch so light that neither of you wouldn’t know it was there if not for the skim of his fingers over your bare skin. Your hoodie replaces your work shirt just as carefully, in reverse. Injured arm first, head, uninjured arm. His tongue pokes out of the corner of his mouth absentmindedly as he concentrates on looping the sling over the thick cotton, securing your arm tight to your chest again. Job done, and without too much embarrassment. He’d call that a success.

“Would you mind-” You struggle for a moment, “The clasp is fiddly.”

Spencer doesn’t know what you mean at first, and then it clicks - and it’s like all the air has been sucked out of the room. You need him to undo your trousers. He can do that, he can do it. He might feel like he’s about to spontaneously combust over the request, but he can do it.

There’s not a whole lot he wouldn’t do for you, to tell the truth.

It takes him longer than it should to slip the hook out of its clasp, usually nimble fingers fumbling under the weight of both of your gazes. But he doesn’t stop there. Because his usually brilliant mind is buzzing with static and his hands are moving of their own accord and the teeth of the zip on your trousers as he pulls it down is loud.

Spencer pulls back like he’s been shocked, while your eyes remain firmly glued to his hands. Hands that now wring themselves with anxiety as he quietly asks if you can manage the rest. You don’t respond verbally - it takes another long second, but you start shimmying the trousers off of your hips with your free hand. The slightest glimpse of bare thigh has him spinning on his heel and marching towards the kitchen in search of food.

He’s not thinking about the soft material of your sweatpants being pulled carefully over your legs in the other room, as he roots around in your kitchen cupboards. He’s not. A can of chopped tomatoes, a handful of half-empty spice jars, just about enough dry spaghetti for two. It’ll do. A pot of water is set on the stove to boil, the noise is enough of a distraction when the bedroom door opens again behind him. You shuffle about for a few minutes, digging around your shelves and Tom Waits’ gravelly tone cuts off abruptly to be replaced by the softer voice of Stevie Nicks instead. The volume ticks down a couple of notches before you join Spencer in the kitchen as he warms the tomatoes and spices alongside the boiling noodles, moving around him with the same ease you do in the office. You pull out two bowls that don’t match - one is shallower and wider and glazed a sunshine yellow, there’s a chip in the lip of it. The other one is smaller, deeper, glazed navy blue instead and with a cheeky face etched into the pottery. Its nose protrudes slightly, rounded out on one side. He can’t help his smile when he dishes out two equal portions and the red sauce drips down onto the bowl’s nose. He swipes at the mess with his thumb before handing you the bowl.

“Thank you.” You search out his gaze this time, urging him to look you in the eye. For cooking, or what he’s sure is your favourite bowl, or staying. He’s not sure. He wants to tell you that you don’t have to thank him, he’d drop anything and everything at any moment if you needed him to. But something in your eyes has stolen his voice, a flicker of something he’s far too terrified to acknowledge. So he only smiles, takes the yellow dish in his hands, and follows you to the comfort of your vintage floral couch.

It’s not a table dinner kind of evening, you seem to have decided. Although the precarious balance of the bowl on your knees suggests otherwise, as you try to eat one handed. Spencer leans forward to pull the cushion from behind his back, his own dinner temporarily abandoned on the floor in front of him, and he picks up your bowl to slide the cushion across your lap in lieu of a tray. Your laugh is quiet, you don’t look at him, but whatever tension had built in the bedroom dissipates with the sound.

Even so, he shoots off a text to Penelope while you’re preoccupied with your spaghetti, asks if she can lend you a helping hand for the next few days if you need one. You shouldn’t need the sling for more than a week anyway. She responds with a smiley face and a kiss almost immediately. It’s not the first time in his life he’s thanked whatever mystical force is responsible for Penelope Garcia.

Spencer will corral you to the doctor’s office for a checkup in a few days, he’ll make sure you do your stretches, he’ll set alarms for your painkillers. And, ultimately, he’ll come back if you ask him to. He’ll help you in and out of your pyjamas if that’s what you want, of course he will.

Regardless of the way it sets his insides aflame. He’ll do it for you.

yes i know reader inserts are blank slates yes this apartment is basically just my own flat no i don’t care thank u🧡🧡

#acts of service as a love language is so underrated he just wants to hELP YOU!!!!#AAUUGGGHHHHHH anyway #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #the canyouniverse #lou writes

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yanderecrazysie · 8 months

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Twisted Zoo: Chapter Two

This is based on the stories of a keeper reader with the octotrio by @ashensgrotto and @merakiui .

Also @twistedcece @cenatour @ursinaw @xiaopleasecomehome @bearshideout @koebishrimpuwu @v-sh @help-whatdoimakemyusername @secret-potion @magmdnv @sunshine-for-serotonin @mel-star636 and @thisisafish123 wanted to be tagged! Let me know if anyone else wants to be tagged for future chapters. If you no longer want to be tagged, please tell me! (I hope the tags worked, I'm new to having a tag list!)

Summary: You’re a brand new zookeeper at The Halfling Zoo- a place where half-animals live in captivity. Your job is simple- feed them and study them. Your main worry is that one of the more dangerous halflings might kill you.

Unfortunately, that may become the least of your worries.

Previous chapter: Chapter One

Next chapter: Chapter Three

WARNINGS: none for now

Note: All characters are aged up, since there will be mature themes in future parts.

Also, I can’t promise I’ll finish this. I suck at finishing stories.

Note 2: I’m in love with Ruggie, so I accidentally made half of this chapter about him. Oops.

—----------------------------------

You decided that the best course of action would be watching from afar. The hyenas were afraid of you, the king of the lions didn’t like you, and the wolves were wary of you. All in all, not the greatest situation.

You didn’t know what you expected. Did you really think they would all love you from day one? They were half-animals, after all. They had the instincts of wild animals, not domesticated pets.

Still, you were determined to make them like you. The hyenas would probably be easiest, once they warmed up to you. The wolves would probably get used to you eventually. The lions- well, that was a tricky situation. They all followed Leona, so you’d have to win him over before you could win over the entire pride, and that would not be easy.

You grabbed your journal and pen from your locker and walked to the savannah exhibit’s door. This time, you had brought a water bottle with you, prepared for the upcoming heat you would have to face. You had also bought binoculars from one of the vendors, knowing you would need it if you were going to keep some space between you and the halflings.

You entered the exhibit, wincing at the heat that hit your skin. You scanned the dry land for the hyenas and found them lounging around the watering hole, talking amongst themselves. You stepped behind a large rock and leaned over it, raising your binoculars to your eyes.

It was impossible to hear what they were saying, but they seemed to laugh a lot. You really wished you knew what they were saying, but if you approached them, they would probably stop their conversation and focus on getting away from you.

Day 1

HYENAS

There are seven hyenas and they all seem to be close to each other, as they stick together in a group. Their conversations seem to be humorous, as they are often laughing. This could be from their hyena half, as hyenas are known for their “laugh”.

Each of the halflings are easily differentiated by their hyena ears and tail. They all seem to be around 5’5, but even the tallest ones do not hit 6 feet.

They are relaxed until a female approaches them. In this case, all seven hyenas are male, so the problem starts when a female keeper tries to feed them or study them up close. They suddenly become extremely wary or even frightened and are very hesitant to come anywhere near a female keeper.

The best way to calm them down, I believe, is to show them that you are not aggressive like female hyena halflings are. It doesn’t get rid of their fear, but it definitely helps.

You peered through your binoculars and watched the six hyenas as they drank from the watering hole- most of them scooping water into their palms and drinking from their hands, while others put their head down to drink directly from the source.

Wait- six hyenas? Weren’t there seven?

You felt a hot breath on the back of your neck and you spun around, heartbeat skyrocketing. There, standing behind you, was the hyena halfling you had talked a little bit with when you were handing out breakfast.

He retreated to a safe distance and sat down, cross-legged, studying you curiously, a slight smile on his face as though he was proud that he had frightened you. Suddenly, you were all too aware of the claws on his fingers and the unnaturally sharp canines that shone in the sunlight when he flashed you a lazy smile.

“Shishishi,” he giggled, eyes locked on you, waiting for your reaction.

“You scared me, Ruggie!” you said, your heartbeat starting to go back to its normal pace.

His grin only widened. You noticed his eyes flickering from you to your notebook.

“Oh! Are you interested in my notebook?” you asked, holding it out to him.

Ruggie frowned, looking a little offended, “I can’t read.”

Oh. You felt your cheeks growing warm. Of course a halfling, who had spent his life in the wild and then captivity, wouldn’t know how to read. It was a miracle that any of them had picked up enough English to be able to speak it.

“Do you want me to read it to you?” you asked.

Ruggie’s eyes widened and he cocked his head at you. Finally, he shook his head. A little disappointed, you closed your notebook. “That’s alright. Did you want to talk?”

Ruggie shook his head once more and you felt yourself at a loss for words. You weren’t sure why he was still here if he wasn’t interested in talking. One of the other hyenas made a whooping sound and Ruggie responded with his own hyena noises, turning his attention to the other hyenas for a moment before he turned back to you.

You decided to try to get him to speak to you, “So, did you enjoy breakfast? You had three servings, after all.”

Finally, Ruggie nodded then, as an afterthought, added, “I like donuts better.”

“Donuts?” you couldn’t help but laugh, “Would you like it if I brought some?”

Ruggie’s eyes widened, “Donuts?”

“Yeah!” you said happily, “My boss said I could bring you guys anything, as long as I paid for it with my own money.”

He looked at you like you had hung the stars in the sky, “Donuts!”

Ruggie called back to his friends with a series of whoops and other hyena noises and they responded back enthusiastically. You wished you could understand their language.

You turned back to your notebook.

It seems like hyena halflings like sweets or, at least this group likes donuts. One of them, the one named Ruggie, seems like he has warmed up to me a little. We talked a little, mostly about donuts, but I feel like he isn’t as scared of me as the others are.

Ruggie seemed to have had enough, because he stood up and, with a curious glance back at you, he ran off to join the others, kneeling by the watering hole to drink along with his peers.

You were a little disappointed by how short the conversation had lasted, but more than anything, you were excited that you had a conversation with a hyena halfling at all. Ruggie still seemed a little wary of you, but much more comfortable with your presence than earlier.

It was a step in the right direction.

You were not looking forward to seeing Leona, but you were already in the savannah exhibit and the lions weren’t too far off. The pride’s positions were the same as this morning’s, with Leona lounging on the large rock while the other lions sat and laid on the grass beneath him. The lions were either napping, grooming their hair, or just talking quietly amongst themselves.

The lions were not frightened by you and why would they be? They had a killer bite and claws on each hand. They regarded you lazily, as if you bored them a little.

“Hello, everyone!” you did your best to not sound as terrified as you felt. None of the lions stopped what they were doing for you, continuing their actions as if you weren’t even there.

You hadn’t even noticed at first that Leona was awake, until you glanced at the rock, hoping to get a reaction from him.

He sat up on the rock, staring at you with an impassive expression. Despite his lack of a warm welcome, your heart soared. This was your chance!

“Hi there!” you said cheerfully.

He looked down his nose at you, clearly not impressed by your greeting.

“Did you have a good nap?” you asked.

Leona continued to stare at you, unimpressed with your attempts at earning his attention.

“So, I know your name is Leona, but would you like to know mine?” you asked hopefully.

Leona’s eyes turned to the right, as though he was making a decision. Finally, he spoke in that slow, rumbling voice of his, “Whatever, I don’t care. Go ahead”

You smiled up at him, pleased that you had gotten his permission, even though he wasn’t as interested as you had hoped, “I’m (Y/n), it’s nice to officially meet you.”

Leona laid back down but didn’t close his eyes, watching you as you looked back at him.

“Did you eat your steak? I don’t want you to go hungry.”

Leona’s eyes widened a little, as though you had taken him by surprise. And maybe you had.

His gaze evaded yours as he responded to your question, “Yes, I ate it.”

“Oh good!” you smiled happily up at him.

Leona studied you closely, clearly unable to read you. Leona tilted his head and turned away from you, “Is that all you need?”

“I’ll write in my notebook, if you’d prefer me to do that.”

Leona grunted in response and closed his eyes.

DAY 1

LIONS

The lion halflings are not shy like the hyenas, but they are hesitant to talk to me. I feel as though, if I earn their king’s acceptance, I will be able to talk to them all. The king has started to talk to me, even if it was only a few words.

The lions are taller than the hyenas, most around 6 feet tall. They are easily differentiated by their lion ears and tail. There are 19 lions, with most being female, and only one cub.

Unsurprisingly, the lion halflings spend a good chunk of their time sleeping. I assume this is from the lion part of them.

“Did you want to read what I wrote?” you asked, sensing Leona’s eyes on you. Your eyes met his and he held your gaze for a few moments before growling, “I’m going to sleep.”

He flopped back down on the rock and closed his eyes again, his breathing becoming rhythmic almost right away.

You didn’t want to bother Leona when he was trying to fall asleep, so you sneaked away, sending an unrequited wave over your shoulder to the other lions. Maybe if you weren’t so determined to get out of the heat, you would have noticed the eyes boring into the back of your head.

The walk to the wolves’ exhibit was a long one. After all, you had to cross half the savannah before making it out into the back hallway meant for staff. Then, you had to push through the crowds to get to the wolf exhibit. At least the crowds weren’t too bad, since evening was on its way.

You were excited that the sun was falling. You’d be able to watch wolf halflings at their preferred time of day. After all, wolves hunted in the twilight hours.

You hoped that didn’t mean they’d see you as prey.

The exhibit door opened easily and you found yourself breathing the air in deeply. It took you a moment to discover just why you liked the wolves’ enclosure so much. Mountain air. Somehow, some way, the zoo had made the enclosure smell like the mountains. The air was even a little thinner here than it was on the pathways.

These wolf halflings must have been living in the mountains when they were brought to the zoo. The thought made your heart hurt a little. Were they offered a deal to live in captivity or were they captured and brought here by force? You didn’t like to think about it too much.

This wasn’t your battle to fight.

The keeper who fed the wolves their evening meal walked past you with full buckets. As she passed you, she gave you a word of advice, “You aren’t gonna find them all together like they are at mealtimes. They all split up, especially in the evening.”

You nodded, a little disappointed. That could make it harder to find them, much less study them. Plus, it’s not like you could look in several directions at once. This might be a little more complicated than you thought.

Or maybe it’ll be fine, you reassured yourself, trying to stay positive.

You reached a steep, downward slope and decided it was probably the best vantage point you would find. You found a nice place to sit down between a cluster of rocks and took out your binoculars.

It took almost half an hour for you to see any movement. Down, at the base of the hill, one wolf halfling walked close to the barrier between the wolves and guests. He had his back hunched in a sort of prowl, and you realized that he was probably in hunt mode.

Excited, you pulled out your notebook to make some notes.

Your pen froze above the paper when you heard a growl.

You slowly turned your head, and what you saw made your blood run cold. A buff wolf halfling with dark gray hair and pin-pricked ears had his lips drawn over his fangs in a snarl. He was growling so ferociously that flecks of spit flew in your direction. His yellow eyes dilated as he grew closer, back hunched as though he were ready to lunge for your throat at any moment.

You gulped, forcing yourself to stay completely still. You were afraid, if you moved, you’d have your throat torn out before you could blink.

The wolf took one step closer, growled one last time, then lunged.

The halfling seemed to stop midair and, before you knew it, he was lying on his side in the dirt a few feet away. The cause of his sudden stop was made clear after a few terrified moments, when your eyes turned upwards.

The white-haired wolf halfling stood with his shoulder still out in front of him. You realized that he had shoulder-checked the older wolf during his attack. Shakily you smiled at him.

“Thank you so much!”

The dark-skinned halfling took a seat on one of the rocks surrounding you. You studied his features, everything from his white tail to his white ear tips. He, on the other hand, watched the older wolf warily.

The older wolf pushed himself to his feet, shaking the dirt from his clothes. His yellow eyes glared at you, but he limped off in the opposite direction, disappearing into the shadows of the trees.

The white-haired halfling turned his attention back to you. You decided to offer your friendship to him.

“My name is (Y/n), what’s yours?”

He stared at you for a moment, before his rumbling voice said, “Jack.”

“It’s nice to meet you Jack,” you said, trying not to come across as too excited to be talking to him. You didn’t want to scare him away with your eagerness.

Jack continued to stare, his golden stare softening a little when he said, “Not safe.”

He didn’t seem to have a very good grasp on the English language, but that was understandable. It didn’t seem like the wolves were all too friendly toward humans.

“I have to stay,” you explained to Jack, hoping he would understand.

“Not safe,” Jack replied. He got up from his sitting position and crossed the distance between you in less than a second. You watched, trembling, as his one of his clawed hands took hold of the back of your shirt collar.

You blinked owlishly as Jack began to carry you by the collar, stunned by his behavior and not wanting to tick him off by fighting. From what you could tell, he didn’t seem to want to actually hurt you, but you didn’t want to push your luck.

After a long walk, Jack set you back down on your feet. He pointed one clawed finger behind you. “Not safe.”

You turned around and, to your surprise, you were met with the exhibit door. Comprehension dawned on you. He wanted to keep you safe.

“No, no, I’m okay,” you soothed, “I have to study-”

“Not safe,” Jack responded, voice even gruffer.

You tried to come up with the perfect solution. You had to soothe Jack but you also had to do your job.

“Well, you could protect me,” you suggested.

“Pro-tect?” Jack’s eyes widened.

“Yeah, keep me safe,” you replied. Jack took a while to think that one over. Finally, he nodded.

He followed you back to your spot like an obedient puppy, but refused to sit down, choosing instead to hover over you, eyes darting in all directions.

Day 1

WOLVES

Wolf halflings tend to be around 6 feet tall, distinguishable by their wolf ears and tails. There are 12 of them in this zoo, with 6 females and males each.

Some of the wolf halflings are very aggressive, and this seems to amplify in the evening hours, possibly because these are their hunting hours. One wolf, however, acts in a protective manner towards me.

It is interesting to note the wolf halflings appear to be in hunting mode despite just being fed.

All of the halflings, save for one, have hair and fur in different shades of gray, while one has white hair and fur.

You didn’t see any other wolves for the next few hours and you eventually decided it was time to go home. Jack shadowed you on your way to the exhibit entrance. You waved goodbye, and he mimicked the action awkwardly.

Laughing a little, you went home for the day.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland

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sparklingcid3r · 8 days

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CW: discussions of suicide/suicidal ideation

Scorching hot take about to come in, but I think that Darry’s line about Dally killing himself because he “gave up” actually does fit the character that the musical made Darry into. I’m not saying it’s a good way to view the situation or even a message that should be imparted at the end of the show, but I think that specific perspective of what suicide is aligns with the Darry we got to know.

You don’t have to agree, but let me explain🙏

There are a few ways that a viewer can interpret Darry’s character. In my opinion, suicidal is one of them. Darry equates suicide with giving up because it’s what he would do if he ever gave up, if he ever lost Pony and Soda the way Dally lost Johnny.

But I also want to say that just because he equates the two in his head doesn’t mean they actually are synonymous. I mean, Darry’s not exactly someone whose word you take at face-value for a lot of the show when he’s talking about his feelings, save for a few vulnerable moments.

When he is being vulnerable and you know that these are his core feelings, undisguised by the need to be strong, it’s during “Runs in the Family” (very sparsely, but there are small clues), and “Throwing in the Towel.” Especially in TITT, he expresses what can be perceived as suicidal ideation, which we’ll get to very quickly.

Because it’s one line in RITF, I can’t really harp on it as much as I’d like to, but Darry says “I don’t know what them boys would ever do without me, and what would I do on my own?” Obviously we never find out what Darry thinks he’d be doing on his own, so you can really only make loose, debatable inferences. Because of that, you can take the fact that Darry is a very goal-oriented person, then take the fact that he knows he would not have anything to work for if his brothers were gone, and combine them to say that Darry might very well just give up.

Darry’s suicidal ideation comes out the most in TITT. He literally says “Maybe you’d be best without me.” He never specifies what “without him” looks like, he leaves that up for Soda (and the audience) to interpret, but three ideas stick out to me:

1. Him giving Soda and Pony up to a boys home

2. Him having never been born at all

3. Him removing himself from their lives permanently (suicide)

Whether he feels one, two, or all three, two out of the three express either ideation or blatant suicidal thoughts.

It also explains why Darry is so insistent on Pony just snapping out of his depression following Dally and Johnny’s deaths. He’s seeing his brother go through the same tired, despondent motions that he did in the beginning of TITT, on the road to giving up.

What Darry doesn’t understand is that Pony truly giving up looks different than Darry truly giving up (I have a feeling that Pony would turn towards drugs and addiction if he hit rock bottom, but that’s another convo for another time), and because Darry is projecting his own version of giving up onto Pony, he’s terrified of his youngest brother doing something so drastic and permanent. Even if that’s not the reality of the situation, it’s what he believes, so it’s what he talks about.

#did i cook #darry stop being the most tragic character to analyze challenge failed #the outsiders #the outsiders headcanons #the outsiders analysis #the outsiders thoughts #outsiders thoughts #the outsiders darry #darry curtis #the outsiders musical

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okiedokrie · 2 months

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[12:22]

Summary: You weren’t really a fan of oral; your boyfriend, Junhui, treats this as a personal challenge.

Characters/Pairing: Wen Junhui (Jun) X F!Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, crack, porn without plot

AU/Trope info: Established relationship

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Swearing, oral (fem receiving), nicknames (baby, babe, honey, love)

Rating: 18+

A/N: reupload from old blog, did not plagiarize, pastel blue divider by @okiedokreations

“YOU WHAT?!”

Junhui exclaimed in complete shock, extremely discombobulated, absolutely flabbergasted, at the sequence of words that left your lips at that moment. He felt backstabbed, betrayed that the love of his life would ever say such horrible things to him. He couldn’t believe his ears, and he prayed to the heavens to give him a sign that it was some sick and twisted joke, the thought of you being 100% serious and unironic made his stomach drop to his ass.

“Look, Jun, all I’m saying is that I just don’t like oral that much-” You try to calm him down, your boyfriend being one for the theatrics, one of the most dramatic people you’ve ever met in your life. He’s usually pretty calm about discussions in opinions, especially preferences in the bedroom, but apparently, your dislike of oral was his breaking point.

“You don’t understand- baby, how could you be so cruel to me?” His voice calmed down to a broken whisper, his eyes gazing over with a layer of tears as he dramatically wiped his non-existent tears with an ornately embroidered lacey silk handkerchief. (Where he got it is still a complete mystery.)

“Look, Junhui, if you’re really hung up about it I don’t mind participating if you really like it, it's just that if given the option, I wouldn’t miss oral all that much.” You say as you try to negotiate, this compromise only seemed to upset him more.

“But- but then you won't be enjoying it too! I want it to be enjoyable for both of us and I’ll feel really bad about it if you just do it to make me happy.” He said, still on the verge of tears.

“Hmm, okay fine, I’ll give you a chance to convince me to change my mind.” You say, finally, this seems to calm him down, looking up from his fancy handkerchief with a twinkle in his round boba eyes. You really can't resist him when he hits you with the twinkly, round boba eyes.

“Quick- take your pants off!”

You grip the sheets that rest under your palms as your shyness kicks in, so see the top of your boyfriend's head as you feel his hot palms glide down your thighs to rest on your knees, you make eye contact with him, the intensity of his look shot hot sparks down to your core. His hands grip your knees, gently prying them apart, the way he looked at your heat with such a heated and lustful gaze made you whine.

His pink tongue peeks out from between his plush lips, you feel a small gust of air when he moved closer to your pussy, his excited movement disturbing the air. You feel his hair and the warm skin of his cheeks tickles your inner thighs as he settles between them, still intensely looking at your cunt.

“I can’t believe you almost wouldn’t let me taste this.” He says lowly, his hot breath on your pussy making you clench around nothing, just then, he places a small, light peck on the hood of your clit, and you sigh, the tension of anticipation finally being released.

He continued placing light and wet kisses on your clit, each one met with a sigh or a moan, his warm hands still gripping your thighs as he savors your wetness on his lips.

He finally latches his lips on your clit, sucking on it softly, moaning when you thread your fingers through his hair with a tug, he breathes in, taking in your scent as his eyes roll back behind his head, almost making his eyes appear all white. He presses his face closer to your core, quickly losing all his composure as he loses himself in your taste.

His eyes glaze over in a lust-filed haze, he’s not thinking of anything else other than eating you like a starved man, kneeling before you in reverent worship of your pussy. His wet and rough tongue licks a fat, flat stripe up your slit as he moans again, from you tugging his locks again, and also seemingly getting off to eating you out.

You feel the tip of his tongue probing your entrance, your breath catching in the middle of a moan, anticipation brewing in your stomach for what’s to come next.

A gasp leads to a moan as his tongue finally penetrates you, his tongue extending to brush against the spongey spot inside of you, the tip of his skilled tongue curling up to brush and caress that spot with more pressure.

You’re not holding back anymore, gripping onto Junhui’s hair so tightly as if to anchor yourself, you hold him in place as you buck your hips into his face, his jaw going slack as he whines and moans, his eyelids hooding his eyes but you can see how blown-out his pupils are.

His head is pleasantly empty, he wants nothing more than to stay in that position forever.

He coaxes you into your first orgasm of the night, the tight cord inside you snapping in white-hot pleasure, your back arching off the sheet with a silent moan. Your vision blacking out from the intensity.

You can feel Junhui kissing along your inner thighs as you come back to earth, making eye contact with him, he gives you a lewd but soft smile, “I’m here love, come back to me, honey.” He whispers so softly into your skin, looking at your expression with a content smile. “You did so well for me, love.” His airy voice and words of praise sink into your skin, engulfing you in a warm and fuzzy glow as you look back down at your boyfriend, “Did I manage to change your mind?” He says, looking very proud of the mess he’s made of you, you only give him a suggestive smile back.

“It was good, but I don’t think you’ve convinced me yet. Could we go again?” You say, a bit out of breath but still cheeky. He gives you another elated smile, the kind that you see when he sees a street cat.

“I don’t mind that at all, lay down for me honey.”

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months

Text

Winter's King 15

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: One more day and I'm a homeowner

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You slow to a crawl amid the retinue of carts and horses. The sun beams down relentlessly on the summer fields. As you laze in a sheen of sweat, Bryce works to tie a swath of linen over the cart in a makeshift canopy. You thank him for his effort, his own brow slick with sweat as he tugs at his mail.

“I admit my winter’s hide is not made well for this sun,” he utters as he reaches to pet Daisy, the loyal steed tied to his new one as he rides in step with her. “Let’s hope we might reach the tundra in due time.”

“Mm, it is rather hot,” you murmur, exhausted from the endless blaze. It’s three days thus far and many more ahead of you.

“Little maid, cannot complain even when you should,” he tuts.

The cart rolls on, rocking your body as the hooves clomp down on dusty grass. As the train passes over the lands, they leave a trodden path in their stead. The progress is steady but sluggish.

The wheels creak and lurch to a halt as Bryce reins in both horses. You sit up and peer ahead, unable to see more than horse tails and overloaded carts, the helms of soldiers shining under the sun. The knight on his dark steed sits up straighter, alert as he leans forward.

“Eh, maid, keep watch on the mare,” he tosses the reins at you as the royal party comes to a halt.

His horse kicks up dirty as he gallops around the edge of the train. You watch him bend over the beast’s long neck and hurdle ahead of the clog of vehicles and bodies. Something is amiss.

You wait, nervous, as other servants cluster together and wonder aloud. Soldiers mill up and down the winding retinue, themselves sharing no more than looks. You climb out of the cart and walk on your cramped legs. You stroke Daisy’s head as she huffs through her nostrils and nuzzles your shoulder.

“I don’t know either,” you tell her softly.

The pause stretches on and Bryce returns, his horse in a lather. He swings off and lands solidly on his feet. He looks between you and the grey mare.

“Some hold-up, nothing to worry for,” he explains, “enough time to find some water for these beasts.”

He takes Daisy’s reins and hands them to you, “come, there is a river near. I can smell it.”

You peek ahead and squint. You don’t know that you believe it is nothing though you can’t find a reason to argue. You nod and tug on Daisy’s bit.

The soldier leads you across the grass, well away from the front of the train. Others disperse to sit in the meadow and chew on their rations. You continue into the trees and the trickle of the promised water has Bryce proudly exclaiming. He weaves his way around the trunks to come upon the bank, putting his dark brown horse to drink. As the larger stallion laps noisily, Daisy lowers her head and patiently gulps up the ripples.

“Where did you find Chestnut?” you ask. “He must be a castle horse.”

“Aye, he was locked away in some stall. They said he is vicious. Due to be horse pie.”

“Horse pie? But he is fast.”

“They did not lie. He likes to nip,” Bryce warns as you step between the horse, “watch your fingers, mouse.”

“Perhaps he only did not like being locked up,” you suggest and gently touch the horse’s long mane, working out a tangle in the hair. He doesn’t seem to notice.

“Chestnut?” Bryce says, “you’ve given him a name of your own.”

“You didn’t say if he had one,” you brush your hand over the fine short hairs along the horse’s shoulder. “I thought it suited him.”

“Mm, I might call his Hellion but Chestnut is kinder, I s’pose.”

You chuckle. The horse lifts its head and you near the river’s edge. It turns to sniff you and Bryce reaches for your arm. The horse drips water onto you as it sniffs your neck. It lifts its lip, showing its square teeth, then touches its nose to yours, turning back to the water to nicker.

“Mm, you do have a way of taming the wildest creatures, eh,” he muses as he lets you go. “Come, I saw some berries back in the bush.”

You leave the horses near the water and follow the soldier between the trees. As he squats to pluck out dark blackberries, you sway on your feet and glance back toward the road.

“Why have we stopped, sir?” You ask.

“Told ya, no matter to worry for,” he stands and offers you a handful, “be thankful for it. We’ve found a nice horde and it will do ya good to be out of the sun. And to eat.”

You accept the bounty and frown. You know he isn’t telling you all but you know he wouldn’t do so without reason. You stand and pick at the berries, biting in hungrily as the juices coat your mouth. The soldier eats as he picks, plucking a few into his purse as well.

“How do ya like squirrel meat?” He stands again, “I could find us a morsel for the evening fire. Perhaps a hare if I can.”

“If you like, sir,” you accept. You chew your lip and search the trees. “Is there truly nothing wrong?”

“I told ya not to worry,” he growls. “So don’t trouble yerself.”

He beckons you back towards the river. You follow, not asking any more questions. It’s expected that the road won’t be easy, something just feels awry.

⚔️

The party makes camp at the point of the delay. You return to the road as Bryce grumbles about the evening warmth. The dry heat lingers in the air even as the sun begins its descent.

“Come, you will need look in on the queen, I’m certain,” he ties the horses to the cart and urges you along.

You notice less soldiers as you stride through the train. It’s not so crowded as before. The missing bodies add to your uneasiness. Still, the queen’s tent has been erected and guards keep vigil right outside. You enter and find her alone. She has a veil over her hair as she taps the brim of a cup with her fingernail.

“Alas, a maid!” She snaps as she sees you, “I’ve been calling for wine all night and those damned soldiers only bring me water.”

“Your highness,” you back out of the tent. The soldiers do not move.

You go to the luggage and search for a bottle. You grab one and return to the tent. The soldier at your right extends his arm before you can enter.

“No wine,” he snatches the bottle, “king’s orders.”

You blanch and look ahead at the silken flap. You nod and thank the soldier as he keeps the wine under his arm. You blow out between your breath and once more push through the draped fabric.

“Your highness, there is to be no wine. The king has commanded it,” you say meekly.

“Pardon me? Who are you to refuse me?” She stands and snarls. “My head is on fire, I need wine.”

“Yes, your highness, but the king--”

“I am the queen. My order is a good as his. Bring me wine. Now. You little twit.”

You stare at her unmoving.

“They won’t allow it, your highness--”

A flurry of veil and skirts rushes towards you. Before you can react, a scalding heat radiates over your cheek, the force behind the queen’s slap rattling your head. You stagger back and clutch your head between your hands.

“You stupid girl! I am the queen! You are a dumb maid!” She strikes you again, her hand glancing off your forearm, “stupid stupid twit!”

She continues to hammer you with blows, closing her fists as she hits your shoulders and stomach. You shrink down, curling into yourself as you keep your head shielded. She huffs, tired from her assault, and twirls away.

“I don’t want to see you unless you have a bottle in hand,” she snarls and kicks over the stool. “Go before I have you gutted.”

You wine and stand straight, lip quivering. You turn and hold your left shoulder as it thrums. You step into the night air, aware that the soldiers could no doubt hear the queen’s fit. They say nothing and you don’t either.

You continue through the train of bodies. You feel your cheek pulsing and your brow swelling. You keep your head down and as you reach the cart, you relieved to find it alone but for the two dozing horses. You climb up and turn towards the wooden wall, hiding against it as you hug the cushion.

It isn’t so different from Debray, only that you don’t have Merinda to hold you, to share in your pain. You always preferred that it was you who faced the rather of the ladies. You only hope Lady Rezlyn isn’t issuing the same displeasure upon your companion.

⚔️

The morning comes with the tweeting of birds and a distant rumble. You sit up and look towards the sky. There are no clouds to forewarn a storm. You stare into the horizon where the thunderous noise rolls over the plains.

You see the figures on their approach. Men on horses. As soldiers rush to confront them, their alarm is eased by the wave of a familiar banner. It is the king and his party.

Bryce grumbles as Daisy sniffs him and the coughs into his hand. He shakes his head as you lean out of the cart, watching the specks on the tapestry of green grass. You gasp as you feel him grip your wrist.

“Eh, mouse, what’s happened to ya?” He demands as he pulls your attention back from the distance.

You look at him and the tenderness in your cheek reminds you of the queen’s wrath. You wiggle free of his grasp and sit back against the side of the wagon. You shake your head.

“I went to... the bushes to relieve myself, sir. I tripped.”

He squints at you, his square jaw gritting. He stares daggers at you. You’re not a good liar but you can’t tell him the truth.

“Tripped?” He echoes as his thick brows furrow.

“Yes, sir, it was dark,” you say. “I’ll be alright.”

“Mm, you look as if you were caught by a bear.”

“Really, sir, I am well,” you put your head down.

He growls under his breath and turns away. He fiddles around with his saddle bag before he returns to the cart. He reaches over the top, holding a folded cloth with an acrid smell roiling off of it.

“Put it on ya face,” he demands. “It’ll soothe ya, make you a little less puffy.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“You don’t go trippin’ no more. If ya do, ya let me know,” he scowls.

You nod, sinking into a tense silence. You both know it’s a lie but neither of you will admit it. You put the cloth to your cheek and exhale. It cools your skin though the smell burns your nose.

⚔️

That night you don’t return to the queen’s tent. Bryce claims there’s no need for it. She needs her sleep, as do you. It’s another lie you won’t call out.

Several days pass in the cart. Short nights followed by sweltering days. It’s as if there is no end to the road or the heat.

You sit on your knees, looking ahead as Bryce chews sweet leaves and spits onto the ground. Daisy’s tail sweeps behind her as she keeps a steady trot. You watch the progress with impatience, each moment feeling more and more trapped in the cart.

“...down in Debray...” you hear a voice drift back.

“...don’t like traitors, suppose...” another returns and you search over the carts to try to place the speakers.

“Careful, mouse,” Bryce warns, “you’ll fall under the wheels.

You sit back and face him, holding onto the side of the cart, “sir, what happened?”

“What do ya mean? We’ve been riding,” he sniffs.

“No, days ago, when we stopped. Something... in Debray?”

He grimaces and spits out the leaves completely. He shakes his head, clearing his throat.

“Nothing a maid needs worry about,” he girds.

“I know, sir, my apologies. I’m only curious...” you hang your head, “I... I was raised there, is all.”

He hums and rocks with the motion of Chestnut’s steps, “skirmish up a ways. Party on their way to the castle. Certainly, you know your former master’s deceit has bought him little good will.”

“A skirmish?”

“Ah, so it was, but nothing very dire. The king returned in good spirits, that rat lord—the duke with him,” Bryce explains, “course, it only suits that the lord should see to the defence of his own castle.” He chortles, “shouldn’t tell ya, maid, so ya keeps your lips sealed, but the duke meant to hide in the queen’s tent.” He shakes his head and sighs, “in the Hinterlands, them sortsa lords aren’t lords for long.”

“Mm,” you purse your lips thoughtfully, “but... but the duke, he helped end the war.”

“By betraying his kingdom. We didn’t come to conquer; we came to unite. Turns out, there’s more fractures than those between winter and summer. Shoulda know by Yellow Waleran’s deeds.”

“Yellow?” You wonder.

“Mouse, it is a lot you needn’t worry for. All I can say is a king isn’t much of one if he don’t keep his word,” he sighs, “any lord or man lacks substance if he melts like ice.”

You look down and watch Chestnut’s legs. You slant your lips.

“King Geralt, did he have some agreement with Waleran then?”

Bryce snorts, “too clever. Promises. Broken promises. Deadly things.”

You nod and hold your chin, “and King Geralt, he is a good king?”

“Do you not know by now?” He asks with a smirk, “he is a man who keeps his word. A man who fights for his people, not for gold and a name. No good winter lord would kneel to a man built on coin. Blood, that buys crowns. It buys loyalty.”

You lower yourself onto your bottom and draw your knees up, “for his people?”

“You heard him say it, you summer’s blood are one with us now. Once he has his heir, it will all be set in flesh. A prince to join the realm,” Bryce says, “let us hope he comes soon. The king’s done his part, he’s fought his battles, now it is up to your queen to claim her victory.”

#winter's king #geralt of rivia #dark geralt #dark!geralt #geralt of rivia x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #medieval au #the witcher

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vinomino · 29 days

Text

You start dying the day you are born.

Memories of a relationship A man traversing grief and single fatherhood at the same time

Featuring: Togame.J x F!Reader

Contents: NSFW MDNI, one smut scene, fluff to heavy angst, hurt w/o comfort, ambiguous/open ending, pregnancy&birth, set post-canon, part two set in Togame’s pov, major character death, implication of suicide(Togame), heavy grief, self-induced vomiting(Togame), girl dad!Togame, not beta read

WC: 10k

Part 1

[January 15]

It was a cold winter and the soft blue mohair scarf tucked your neck away from the snowy breeze. The sun does little to warm the earth. Cafe signs read Festive Lattes, with the promise of bringing heat into bellies. You shivered and the hand around yours slightly squeezed tight. Togame releases himself from your grip to tighten your scarf, lifting the edges to cover more of your face. When he’s done, he kisses your nose, making you giggle uncontrollably. Flecks of snow cover his black hair like a string of lights. Your fingers skim the icy air when you reach up to brush his hair, melting the white away. His emerald green eyes crinkle and wrinkles form at the corners as he looks upon you with his heart. A milky swirl escapes his mouth when he talks.

“Don’t get sick.”

“I won’t.”

[May 2]

Water drips off the umbrella that Togame is holding between the two of you. Standing on your tippy-toes you pluck the sunglasses off the tip of his nose, you place them on your own.

“How can you see with these on? It’s raining, you know?” Squinting your eyes to make out the pole of the street lamp.

“I can see just fine.”

“Why do I feel like you’re lying?”

“I would never lie to you.” He scratches his chin trying to sound nonchalant about what he said, but his tone is far from the truth.

The truth is, he lives by those words– Togame would never lie to you. I won’t look away and stay true to myself!! He won’t look away and run, he’ll stare at you even if you burn the sight out of his eyes. He never knew life could be this bright for someone like him until you came along, forced your way into his world, and made it your dwelling. If Choji was his sun– you had to be greater than that, you were one of those stars millions of miles away that make the sun pale in comparison. The orange ombre shades are tilted, it’s too big for you. The corner of his lips tugs up into a smirk, he grips the bridge of the sunglasses and pulls them off. His heart stutters when he sees you directly looking into his eyes.

[June 30]

Love Love Love Love Love

Togame can’t count how many times that word slipped out of your mouth. You lay beside him on the attic floor as you tell him about all the things– everything you love. From your favorite color to what shoes you want to buy. On the other hand, he doesn’t remember if he ever said that word before. There was a lack of love in his life, in his teens, most of his attention went to Shishitoren and becoming strong. To be strong is to be free. Togame believes he has yet to overcome the barriers that prevent him from giving and receiving affection. All the relationships that he “fell in love” in only brought him pain.

But he was at ease laying on the creaking wooden floorboards in the cobwebbed dingy attic. His past partners told him he was never enough and he considered that the bleak truth, he just wasn’t cut out for love. What he’s feeling next to you is vivid and it explodes through every vein that makes up his body. Every cell in him is trying to connect to yours like magnets.

“So, what do you love?” You turn your neck to look at him.

“I…” he pauses, “...I love…you.”

You give him a cheeky smile, “Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”

“Do you not want to?” His lips remain parted.

“I want to…but I’ve already been calling myself your girlfriend.”

You laugh. He laughs.

[August 14]

Even during the night, the air is still hot and humid, sticking to his bare skin. Sand nestles itself into the crevices of your feet and knees and sweeps through. You rest your head on Togame’s shoulder, the towel wrapped around the both of you soaks up the water dripping off your hair. Daybreak is quickly approaching, the sun is going to rise soon. It was a last-minute decision to go to the beach, Togame and you swam until the sun came up. You can still smell the saltwater when he wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you closer to him. Shifting, your legs bump into his.

It was a sight to behold, the bright rays spewed over the rippling sea, creating multicolored spots along the surface of the water. “It’s pretty…” You mumble, nuzzling into him. Togame replies, “Yeah, it is.” But he wasn’t looking ahead, he was looking at you. He swears he’s in the presence of an angel, a mystery in this world that can’t be explained by human intellect. How can a being be so perfect? Togame thought.

Togame never considered himself a sentimental dreamer who fancies romance, but at this moment he’s thinking about all the future moments you’ll share with him, ones just like this. You sneeze and he pulls you into his lap, wraps his arms around you, and spills his warmth into you. The sky continues to blaze brightly.

[November 3]

“It’s alright.” You softly murmur.

Clothes were strewn across the floor, spread about in heaps. Sweat drips off Togame’s hair and splatters on the skin between your breasts. He’s had sex before, sex with people he thought he was in love with, sex with girls in bar bathrooms, but it all pales in comparison to what he’s going through right now. He strains himself still so he doesn’t come undone from only entering you like a teenage virgin boy having his first time. Togame reopens his eyes when you caress his jawline, he tightens his hand around yours, pressing it into the sheets as he steadies himself. His muscles contort when he rolls his hips, a breathy exhale and he feels his eyes roll back into his skull.

The sensation was better than he could’ve ever dreamed of, your warm walls wrapped around him snugly. You weren’t faring any better, soft mewls bounce off the walls of his bedroom as he fucks deeper into you. Neither of you rushed to have your first time together until the build-up and tension finally broke the dam. When you couldn’t stop craving Togame and he couldn’t stop craving you.

He felt your nails crawl along his spine.

“Jo…” You whimper when he nudges your cervix. Upon hearing his name, he dives down for a kiss. A hungry and passionate desire, eating up all your moans, swallowing every sound you make. Togame hears a symphony when you chant his name as you near your orgasm. You wrap your legs around his waist and he hugs you into his chest as you two groan into each other’s ears. There isn’t a single millimeter separating your bodies. Only skin, tissue, and bones separate your hearts.

[December 25]

Children sing choirs, holiday banners are strung up all around town, and the snow packs on top of the grass. On the kitchen counter, two cups of hot cacao emit steam. Holding each handle in your hands, you walk back to the couch.

“Here.” You place one in front of Togame who is wrapped up in a funny patterned blanket. A gag gift from one of his friends; cats wearing Santa hats. “Thanks, baby.” He blows on the surface, moving the chocolatey milk concoction.

You sit down on the couch next to him, pulling a throw over yourself as well. A white fuzzy material, the warm mug heats your hands. The heater broke earlier this morning and no nearby businesses are open and working during Christmas. So, you have to endure it until the next day. Thankfully, your boyfriend was as hot as a furnace. He double-wraps you with his blanket and snuggles up to you.

Despite the cold, you had fun. Ripped wrapping paper stuffed the trash bin to the brim. The gifts Togame and you got each other laid on the coffee table with the plate full of gingerbread men cookies you two decorated together. He made you and forced you to eat the cookie because he said he couldn’t bear to eat you in cookie form.

“You tired?” He noticed your wide yawn.

Blinking slowly, you reply, “Yeah.”

Togame hums and lays down on the couch, opening his arm for you to lie on his torso. You immediately crawl on top of him and plop down, basking in his body heat, you sigh. He chuckles and his chest rumbles against your head. “Rest up, darling.”

[February 16]

You currently watch Togame giddily dart around the kitchen trying to remake a dish he learned for you. He had picked up a job as a chef and was excited to show you all his new skills. Squeaky clean knives are placed on the countertop as he pulls the kelp around the fresh orange salmon. Resting your face on your hand, “What’re you going to make, Jo?” You ask.

“Ochazuke (green tea over rice).” He responds while pre-heating the oven.

Togame repeats what the seniors at work taught him– unwrapping and placing the salmon onto the baking sheet. He turns to skillfully chop the scallions, displaying his new ability. You giggle at the view. When the salmon turns crispy, he brews the tea. Rice, furikake, a pickled plum, and the salmon are placed in two bowls. “Watch.” You lean over and he pours the tea in, submerging all the ingredients in a light broth.

“Can I get a kiss for my hard work now?” He turns his cheek to you.

You laugh and press a chaste peck on his cheekbone.

[March 24]

Petals float into his eyes as he squeezes through the crowd, most are donning capes and caps. Togame eyes dart around trying to find you at the meetup location you informed him of. An hour ago, you walked across the stage and got your diploma. “Jo!” He snaps his head to where your voice came from and sees you speed over towards him. The cloak enveloped you so perfectly, like a veil. “Jo, I was looking for you.” He smiles, you look so proud and happy, the years paid off, “Me too.” He would always look for you. This love nurtured him, he’ll love you forever.

“Was it really okay for you to take today off?” You fret.

“They didn’t mind at all.” Togame cups your face with his hands, “I’m so proud of you.”

Your smile is squished up.

[April 13]

“Happy birthday, happy birthday to you!” All his friends are in the room when you place the cake in front of him. An ice cream cake with chocolate, vanilla, and cookie crumbles in the middle. “Happy Birthday” is scribbled in black gel on the top. Enough sugar is packed into it to make someone sick. The numbered candles flicker and the flames wave with the slightest breath. Everyone cheers and claps.

“Blow it out!”

“Make a wish!”

“C’mon, birthday boy!”

“Jo, happy birthday.” You fix the cone hat on his head. The hat his friends– mainly Choji, forced him to wear. They whistle.

Togame chuckles and deeply inhales, extinguishing all the candles in one single blow. Smoke bellows out. You clap your hands as the room erupts in laughter, you’re looking at him with hearts in your eyes. “Happy birthday, baby.” You give him a big fat wet kiss on the chin. He catches a glimpse of the golden balloon banner: Happy Birthday!

[July 1]

Orange juice drips down the sides of your fingers, you lick it up. The sour-sweet liquid mingles on your tastebuds.

The juicer shakes– destroying, tearing, and squeezing everything the fruit is capable of offering. Its peel releases a mellow citrus scent that fogs up the room. Halves, quarters, and slices are funneled into the machine. The pulp gets caught by the mesh strainer, its counterpart flows smoothly into the jug below. You turn and wash the sticky coating off your hands in the sink.

The door jingles open.

“I’m home.” Togame places his bag down on the bench and heads over to you. “What’re you making, darling?”

“Orange juice, do you want some?” You pour it into a cup and hold it up to his lips– you know he’ll take it.

Togame does, placing his hand under to tip the content into his mouth. The watch on his wrist tells the time: 8:31 PM. He gulps– swallowing all the orange’s hard work. You drink it off his tongue when he presses his lips to yours.

[August 20]

Okinawa Churaumi Aquarium

“Jo, Jo, look!”

He traces his eyes to where you’re gesturing at. It’s a huge tank, a wide variety of fish swim about, and in the middle, a whale shark glides along the current. Many hold up their phones to snap photos. Your bag weighs the left of his shoulder down, you’re weighing him down and he’s glad that you are. The blue illuminating from the tank caresses the features of your face, exposing you to the blind eye. He harbors a profoundly tender, undoubtedly affection for the person by his side. One of the simplest, yet most complex feelings he has ever touched.

You stare in awe as the manta ray flaps its wings, radiating eminence like a dove soaring through the skies.

“Where should we go next?” Togame opens up the pamphlet the worker gave him again, he scans through the map. Next is the 3F Journey to a Coral Reef: A World Brimming with Colorful Marine Life. “Do you want to see the corals?”

“Let’s go see it together.” You clasp his hand in yours, intertwining fingers. Even now, he gets butterflies tickling his belly.

[September 4]

The alarm blares on the nightstand. You shuffle, letting out a groan, and extending your hand to get a hold of your phone, and you squint your eyes to read the time: 6:01 AM. Sitting up, you stretch your arms above your head, waking up every muscle. Togame stirs beside you, grumbling something incoherent. You stifle a laugh and bend to kiss his forehead. He wakes up later, the restaurant doesn’t open until the afternoon.

Water splashes on your face as you get ready.

Fully dressed, you pack your bag. “G’morning…” Togame leans against the doorframe, rubbing his eyes. “Good morning, are you coming back later today?” You ask. It’s a Wednesday and Togame usually heads to the gym after work on Wednesdays. “Hmm, yeah, I think so.” He rasps out. “Have a good day, baby.” Togame kisses the corner of your mouth when you walk to the front door.

“You too.” Opening the door and peeking to see him before you shut it. “I’m off,” you call out and he waves.

[September 27]

It’s late, your period is late by three weeks. You run a hand over your face as the test sits on the ceramic bathroom sink. Palms sweaty as you lean over the rendering test. The first line. Your nerves tingle as you await the verdict. The latex microbeads are the judge of how your life will continue, you wait with bated breaths.

You want Togame, you want him to hold you in his arms instead of standing in the bathroom alone. A second line.

Togame is wiping a chopping board down when a phone rings. “Hey, it’s yours Togame!” A voice informs him. He makes his way to the back alley to call you back, you never call during his work hours. His stomach clenches as the device continues to ring.

Sniffles emerge when the call is picked up. “Are you crying? What’s wrong?” Togame feels sweat form all over his body.

“Can you come home?” You choke at the end.

“Sure, I’ll come home right now– sit tight,” Togame informs his coworkers of an emergency and rushes back to the apartment where he finds you on the bathroom floor. “Are you alright? What happened?” He pushes damp strands of hair out of your face. You press your hand against him. “The test,” gesturing to the sink. Togame slowly stands up and notices the test along with the two lines.

“It’s alright, we’ll figure it out,” he presses your head into his shoulder, his shirt soaking up your tears. “Shhh, it’s okay. You’re the most important person to me. I love you.” His hand rubs up and down your back, as you seek comfort, trembling in his hold.

Tears stain your cheeks as you lay on the pillow next to him, breathing hitching every few seconds. “I’m okay, we’re okay. I love you. I’m here for you, darling.” You nod as he strokes your wet face. His heart pumps out a thousand prayers: I love you, I love you, I love you.

“Togame…Togame!” Another chef pats his back to get his attention.

“Oh– yes?”

“You alright? You’ve been spacing out, did something happen?” All his coworkers confirm the man’s concern.

Togame licks his lips, “I’m, uh…gonna be a father.”

The whole kitchen stops what they’re doing and congratulates him. Hugs, handshakes, and pats and showered on the new prospective dad. The workers who were already fathers gave advice and ruffled his hair. His boss sends him home for the day.

He tells the news to his acquaintances, friends, best friends, past lovers, and the cats on the way back to you. He tells the trees, the flowers, and the pebbles. He wants to tell the whole world.

[October 12]

A pack of letters tied together with a red ribbon is left on the tabletop.

You see it when you wake up and head to the kitchen. There’s a cup of tea next to the stack. You sit down and pick up the letters, turning them around to inspect what they could contain. The ribbon pulls apart in one tug. A multitude of envelopes splatter on top of one another. You pick one up, open it, and pull out the card.

Happy 7th Birthday!

You’re no longer a toddler, you can write and tie your own shoes now! That’s a big girl achievement. How amazing, I know I wasn’t around to see it, but I’m sure everyone was so proud. 7 is a big deal. Skip another step on hopscotch, let ice cream drip all over the floor, run down the slides, and have an amazing 7th birthday.

– Togame Jo

Picking up another random envelope:

Happy Sweet 16th,

High school must be difficult, but I’m sure you can handle it. All your classmates and friends are at school waiting for you. I hope the sun shined a little brighter this year as you tackle tests and homework. 16-year-old you will be so happy to see who she has become, getting into college, and studying your favorite subject. Wishing you the happiest 16th year.

– Togame Jo

Happy 18th Birthday!

Wow, you’re now an adult! It’s your last year of high school, you’re about to graduate! You must’ve worked hard. I honestly don’t remember much about 18-year-old me, but I’m sure you do. So, just know that I think 18-year-old you was remarkable. Your kindness is so much bigger than you give it credit, I thought that when you told me about the cat you saved when you were 18. Adulthood must’ve been scary to imagine, but now you start making big choices and defining who you’ll be in life (p.s. you did that well).

– Togame Jo

Happy 19th!

We meet this year, isn’t that something? I can recall when I first saw you, you looked like a fairy. I believe I fell in love at first sight (It’s true). The way you carried yourself up until now is inspiring. We got to know each other and kissed, when we kissed for the first time I thought my heart was going to explode. Sometimes I lay in bed and wonder: what if we never met? I get filled with worry, but then don’t care because I would’ve found you either way. We were meant to be together. Happy birthday sweetheart.

– Love, Togame Jo

Happy 1st Birthday!

You probably didn’t know it back then, but you were about to embark on a wonderful journey. You’ll meet people, make friends, and be surrounded by love (1-year-old you is really cute, by the way).

– Togame Jo

Happy 22!

I got to spend this birthday with you. But I want to say all the things I said that day again; I love you, I’m so happy I got to meet you, you’re astonishing. I wake up and think about how much I’m blessed to be your boyfriend. You graduate soon– I could talk forever about all the things that happened this year. Let’s go back to the beach and swim all night again. Can I say it yet? I’m excited to be able to write this.

– Your future husband, Togame Jo.

There are more letters on the table, a card for each birthday up until this year. The tea has cooled down as you place the last letter of the most recent birthday down. A tear hits the paper, creating a dark spot– you didn’t even realize you were crying. You feel so tender and vulnerable, your heart is split open like a plum. For a split second, you see yourself in the reflection of the black screen before you open the phone up. Togame’s location is right outside the front door.

The doorknob shakes as you grip it with your quivering hand. You pull the door back, there stands Togame with a bouquet of peonies.

“Did you finish reading them?”

You sniffle, tears pouring down your cheeks. You’re unable to speak.

“Don’t cry–” He fumbles a bit before shoving the bouquet into your face. You break out into a smile and laugh, accepting and holding the flowers in your hands. He gets down on one knee and opens the black velvet box, revealing a shiny ring on the cushion. “Will– Will you marry me?” Togame stops breathing.

“Yes, Jo– I’ll marry you.”

His fingers feel cold when he slides the band onto your left ring finger. When he stands up, you drop the bouquet and wrap your arms around his neck to kiss him. He smiles, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Have you been standing out here all morning?” You rub his cheek.

“Anything for my wife.”

[November 9]

I do. I do.

The wedding was a small gathering of family and friends. But it was the wedding of your dreams, marrying the man you loved.

“Did you really cry when you saw me?” You roll onto your side to talk to your husband.

“I did, you were so beautiful.”

“That’s so cheesy.”

“I’m always cheesy with it comes to you.”

Togame moves closer to you, shifting the bed while doing so. He places his hand over your womb, “I never thought I would have a family,” he stops to steady his vocal cords. “I was a delinquent, you know? Always up to no good and fighting was all I did.” Togame blinks and a wet film forms over his green eyes. “Now, now– I have a wife and I’m going to be a father,” his voice cracks. “I’m really happy, I love you, I love us, I love our baby.” Togame cries, tears roll off his lashes and onto the cotton pillowcase.

You pull him towards you and he buries his head into your chest. Your fingers card through his short black hair, there is still some gel left in it. “I know, I know…I feel the same way too. I love you, Jo.” You softly whisper to him, he shakes like a leaf against you. November is mid-winter, it should be cold, but it’s warm.

[April 29]

“When are you due?” Your friend sips her smoothie looking at your showing stomach.

“The doctor said sometime in late June.” You take a bite of the cheesy waffle.

“Awe, I’m so excited to meet little Rie.” She gushes.

Rie was the name Togame and you chose for your baby girl, meaning blessing. The cafe is bustling, college students and the elderly alike come and go as you chat with your high school friend. You were on maternity leave and waiting for the date. The emerald-cut diamond ring is comfortably splayed on your finger when you go to pick up the cup of water. You miss Togame even though you saw him a few hours ago.

“How are things going between you and your husband– actually I can’t believe you’re married. Back in high school, you were on a roll, really, none of our old friends believed me when I said you got married and were pregnant. It’s amazing, everyone thought you would take longer to settle down– even I thought you never were going to.” Her lips curl up. “I’m happy for you, I mean it. Togame– Jo, wow, you’re also a Togame now. He’s good for you, you’re practically shining– don’t they call it pregnancy glow? I think you’re glowing.”

You laugh at her words, “Oh, yeah. I once thought in high school that I’d never have a family. Now, I don’t regret anything. At first, I was scared. You know? I thought the world was going to end, but Jo– he really helped me back then. Back then, all I did was cry– no, seriously I cried all day and night. He took a few days off work and calmed me down. I’m grateful for him. This might sound dumb, but– I think he’s my soulmate– don’t laugh. I just can’t imagine myself with another man who isn’t Jo or even having a kid with someone who’s not Jo.”

The two of you continue to talk until Togame picks you up to go home.

[June 25]

The hospital's fluorescent lights shine all around you. Stars start forming all around the room like a nebula you see in a space photo. Each star twinkles in an array of colors. Your body is sweaty as you heave, the nurse takes a cloth and wipes your forehead, but it still feels damp. It hurts? It hurts. Everything is tingling. She peels the gown down, exposing your chest, and places a newborn– your newborn on your bare skin. A tiny yellow hat is on her head. Seven pounds and four ounces. Rie, she’s coated in a mixture of liquids as she cries at the top of her lungs into your breast.

“Oh, you’re so little…” Tears slip down your face as you tuck your chin to see her.

Togame leans his forehead against your temple, “Thank you– thank you for being born safely.” Her cheeks are so tiny in comparison to Togame’s index finger. You cry and all the emotions welled up in you pour out into the delivery room. A healthy baby girl.

[October 18]

The curtains blow with the wind.

“Why’re there so many windows?” Choji places a cardboard box in the middle of an empty room and skips around.

“She said she wanted a house with a lot of windows.” Togame thinks back. I want all the windows open– there has to be a lot of windows.

“Really?” Sako and Inugami enter with even more boxes. Arima comes back down from the second floor, “How exciting man, you got a family.” He grins and walks to his former Shishitoren members.

His Shishitoren pals move furniture and set up the house, and even some old Bofurin come around and lend a hand.

“Rie, right? Congrats.” Umemiya pats his shoulder with a grin. Togame thanks the white-haired man.

“Sakura, that goes into the nursery,” Nirei instructs the two-toned boy.

“Hah? Where’s that?”

“Over here.”

Togame watches everyone come together to help him set up the new house. It makes him feel funny inside that all these people took time out of their days to dedicate it to him. He set one foot in front of the other, it felt like a heavenly blessing bestowed upon him, a man young and in love. Rie was absolutely lovely and pure as light, she resembled you more. Waking up to you and Rie made him feel like he was basking infinitely in the sunshine. There was no other word than “love” that could describe these days. People spend their whole lives searching for it, saying that it doesn’t exist when it doesn’t grace them with its presence.

[November 8]

Rie was growing fast, a bit too fast for Togame’s liking. He still wanted her to remain small and tiny for just a little longer, for there to be more moments where you all lay on the rug together. Rie nibbled on her toy, her skin was velvety and soft as bread. You coo at her and take the toy away from her mouth, she kicks and fusses.

“Shhh…” Togame watches you calm her down, stroking her puffy cheek with the back of your finger. “Ah, could you watch her? I want to head to the store to buy more milk.” You sit up and pat your clothes down.

“I can go instead.”

“Stay here with Rie, have some daddy and daughter time.” You press your nose into him and stand up.

He relents, you’ve been with the baby ever since you got back from the hospital, and he knows you need some time alone. “Alright, be safe. Okay, honey?” He crosses his legs and places Rie in his lap. “Say bye-bye to mommy.” He grins and waves her miniature arm at you.

“Bye-bye Rie, mommy will be back soon, be good for daddy.” You blow a kiss at your husband and baby.

Part 2

Grief is love with nowhere to go.

Wailing fills the room, there’s no other noise he can hear. Togame grips the bars of the crib to the point where his knuckles turn white. He felt his soul being ripped apart, opening the gates for an agonizing pain– terrible and airless, it wraps its claws around his throat, a silent asphyxiation. There’s a desire in him, to fill his pockets with stones and head into the sea. How can he live without you? How can you leave him? Rie continues to cry and cry and cry. His hands are stinging, indents on his palms when he lets go.

She’s crying out for you– for her mother. Togame stands up, the tears on her pudgy cheeks mirror his. Your blood mixed with his runs through this child’s veins. He picks Rie up and rests her against his shoulder, patting her back to try and soothe her to no avail. It’s almost like she’s mourning her mother’s death. Falling to his knees, he cries alongside her, two trembling people clinging onto one another. The moonlight moves around the nursery, the white glow is the only source of light. Her little hand clenches his shirt. She must be hungry, he forces himself up to make a bottle of milk. Copying everything he saw you do, but Rie doesn’t take to the bottle. She doesn’t latch onto it. He’s at his wit's end. Why didn’t he pay more attention to what you did? Why didn’t he question you on how to calm the baby down? Why did he never think to ask you how to take care of Rie? Because he believed you would always be here– be beside him. You were immortal to him until you weren’t.

Togame snaps awake, gasping, his eyes dart around the room. Rie is snoozing in his arms, he is still supporting her body against his chest. His mind fell asleep, but his body didn’t. He lets out a sigh. The full bottle is set on the table. Slowly, he gets up off the chair, walks over to the crib, and places Rie gently down on the mattress. Togame holds his breath as he lets go, she doesn’t stir. Quietly, he walks out of the room and down the hall into the living room. His pillow is on the couch, the baby monitor speaker is on the coffee table, and his clothes are thrown about on the furniture. He hadn’t slept on the bed since the day you passed, it was too much to feel that you were still here. His mind kept telling him that you were going to come to bed any minute.

His phone clicks open with a ding, notifications are displayed in a row, and he scrolls through them. Weather notifications, messages from his friends, emails from his boss, notifications from the baby monitor, and menial ads. Friday. It’s already Friday. He can’t remember the last time he went to work, they must’ve fired him by now– he couldn’t even go anyways, Rie would be left alone. Togame rubs his forehead, pulling the skin with his hand. At some point, his stomach growls, and he can’t recall when he last ate. The fridge is empty and barren, aside from condiments and beers on the door– aside from the rotting orange in the fruit compartment. A dark green fungus eats away at the flesh, skinning the peel off, and torments the orange. It passes away, unable to endure.

The tab presses into the can, breaking the seal, and a sizzle rips out. He raises the rim to his lips and drinks the liquid down. Six large gulps flow down his throat, but he tastes malt– he tastes malt. Immediately Togame runs to the sink and coughs into the stainless steel basin. What did he just do? He sticks his fingers into the back of his mouth until he regurgitates all the liquid up– or until he thinks he has. Beads stick to his lashes, falling when he blinks, snot is running out his nose, and his entire chin is coated with saliva. He gags. Togame didn’t even notice that he grabbed a can of alcohol, not even processing what he was doing. He curses, wipes his chin dry, and pours the rest of the beer down the drain. How can he drink when Rie’s depending on him, he’s the only one here for her now. If something were to happen to her– he pressed his hands to his face, tugging at his hair.

He needs help, he can’t even function as a normal individual, so how can he be a father right now?

Togame texts the first person he can think of, the one who helped him back on his feet when he was stuck under the shade; Sakura Haruka.

It doesn’t take long for Sakura to show up at his front step, Togame swings open the door before the man can even ring the bell.

“Sorry, it’s a mess right now. I mean— look at me. I’m a mess.” He dryly chuckles when he sits down on the couch, insulting himself.

“Hey, it’s alright. I haven’t seen you since–” Sakura stopped himself, he felt it was taboo to mention the funeral of Togame’s wife, especially when Togame barely looked put together. “You need help.” Sakura isn’t well-versed socially, but even he knows that the black-haired man isn’t stable. His two-colored eyes travel up and down, Togame has an overgrown beard– something he has never seen before. Excluding the miserable husband and father, the house was in disarray. Pots and dishes lay dirty in the kitchen sink, trash was spilling out of the bin, and energy drinks littered the coffee table– all the surface tops Sakura could see.

Sakura isn’t sure if he should ask Togame if he’s okay because he already knows the truth– the man isn’t.

“I just can’t find time to clean– Rie cries all hours of the day, I need to book a doctor’s appointment for her– she hasn’t been eating that much. I think she’s losing weight– she feels lighter.” Togame furrows his brows in dread as he lists everything he needs to do to Sakura. “I’m trying, but it just…isn’t enough.”

“Did you drink?” Sakura spots the beer can on the counter.

“I did– I chucked it up though. I didn’t even see what I was drinking,” he laughs, “isn’t that crazy? I think I’m going crazy. If she was here–” Togame voice cuts off. He’s so pathetic without you, he thinks.

“Can I call someone?” Sakura asks.

“Sure– yeah, go ahead.”

A few people show up: Umemiya, Kotoha (people Sakura thinks are good with kids), Suo, and Nirei (people who popped into his mind right away).

Because Sakura is in unfamiliar territory, he cannot comprehend how Togame is feeling, and he definitely doesn’t know anything about child-rearing.

Togame showers as they all help clean up the house. Kotoha is tending to Rie, accessing his concern about her lack of eating. He’s using the guest bathroom since he’s also been avoiding the bathroom you use, all your stuff is there, and even strands of your hair are still on the bath mat. The hot water slithers all over, washing away the dirt that’s been stuck to his skin. He can hardly recognize himself in the mirror when he wipes away the fog, revealing his unruliness. He can’t remember the last time he had let his beard grow out this much, he doesn’t think he ever did. So, he shaves— for the first time in weeks.

When he steps out into the living room, Kotoha is bouncing Rie in her arms. Togame never talked to her before, though he knew that she was Umemiya’s little sister. Rie squeals and giggles, flapping her arms around. For a split second, he sees you. You’re the one holding his daughter– your daughter. Bobbing her up and down, kissing her cheeks, and smiling so warmly at your bundle of joy. Toagme’s breath hitches and he digs his nails into his hand in an effort to stop himself from crying in front of everyone. He is so tender in his grief.

“You should see a psychologist.” Umemiya hands him a glass of water.

“I need to take Rie to the pediatrician first.”

“Right, you should. But don’t ignore yourself. She needs you to be healthy.” He takes a moment to think. “I can watch over Rie when you go. We all can.” Umemiya suggests.

“I’ll just take her with me.” Togame places the cup on the table.

“You need some time alone–”

“She’s all I have left– what if, what if something happens when I’m not there again.” Togame fists at his pants, “Oh god, I don’t know…” He’s spiraling.

Umemiya remains silent. He knows Togame is refusing to let Rie out of sight due to fear. “Trust us.” He spoke with sympathy to the widow.

In the shopping center, Togame waits in front of the family bathroom.

Rie fusses in her stroller uncomfortably. All he can do is rock her until he can change her diaper. Her lip wobbles, she’s on the verge of screaming, and he debates his next action. Whoever is in the bathroom is taking way too long, it's been over 15 minutes. The men’s doesn’t have a changing station and he’s not keen on taking her there anyways.

“Oh, how she’s so cute.” An old lady peers into the stroller.

“Thank you.” Togame offers her a small smile.

“Are you giving mom some time off?”

Togame opens his mouth to respond, but he can’t form any words. Her unknowing words had skinned him raw. She thinks you’re still alive. People are going about their days not knowing you’re gone, living their lives without the slightest bump. The passersby don’t know that he’s suffering. How can they go on with their lives like nothing happened? He feels angry and then an excruciating sadness. Rie whimpers and it snaps him out of his train of thought. “Sorry, I need to change her diaper.” He doesn’t spare the lady another glance as he unbuckles Rie and takes her into the women’s bathroom.

A young lady is at the sink fixing her makeup, a college student, Togame thinks. She stares at him wide-eyed. “Um, just– my baby.” He rushes to the large stall in the back, the one he knows has a changing station. When he locks the stall he hears her footsteps disappear, she quickly leaves after seeing him. Togame sighs but continues with tending to Rie. With a fresh diaper on her, he scurries out of the women’s, apologizing on the way out. Some of them give him dirty looks. Sure it annoyed him, but he ignored it, placing Rie back in the stroller and going off on their way.

The doctor suggested to him to start solid foods. At the appointment, he realized how little he knew about his own daughter. Togame struggled to answer some of the questions because you were the one who took Rie to these visits. He has to be two now.

The white-coat woman cleared her throat, “Why don’t you call your wife? Is she busy? I usually see her instead.”

“She passed away.” Togame cringed when he said those words, it was the first time he told someone you were dead.

She gasped and covered her mouth. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

He nibbles on the inside of his lip.

“I can– I’ll print out the papers with things you need, stuff to know for future appointments. Wait a moment here.” She returns with a few papers stapled together. “Rie is quite healthy. You mentioned her eating habits, I believe you’re feeding her too frequently. When babies cry, it doesn’t always mean they’re hungry– here’s a time schedule on when to feed her. I also included some parenting tips in this folder.” The doctor clasps her hands on her lap. “We also offer counseling for single parents here, would you like to make an appointment? There’s also a fully staffed nursery, if you’re struggling with finding someone to look after her– Rie. There are one-on-one talks with a certified therapist and weekly group meetings in the program.” She hands him a pamphlet.

“I’ll do it.” Togame doesn’t open the pamphlet. He then gets handed an appointment card.

In front of the baby section, he stares at the text Umemiya’s wife had sent in the group chat. What to get, what to avoid, what to make sure of, and a few links. He follows everything to his best judgment and heads home with a few bags.

At home, he sits in front of Rie and feeds her the puree out of the jar– or tries to. She sticks her tongue out refusing to take another spoon, slapping her veggie-coated hands against the tray. “Another bite?” Togame holds the spoon out. Rie giggles. “For daddy?” She blows raspberries at him, splattering carrots onto his face. He smiles. He can’t remember when he last laughed. Rie laughs with him, almost jumping out of her seat. “Ah, ah, ah.” Togame smoothes her hair back. With a last attempt, he wiggles his arm around, doing something he’s seen in movies. “Here comes the airplane~” he coos and it works, she opens her mouth up and licks the puree up. Togame bellows out a laugh, slapping his thigh at how comical the scene was. He looks around to see if you’re laughing too.

But you’re not here.

Rie sleeps in her crib, all cleaned up and dozing the night away. Togame stands over her, watching her chest rise and fall. He doesn’t know how to prepare her for life, how to teach her things her mother would be there for, he doesn’t know what to do. He’s anxious and backed into a corner, it’s daunting. Can he do it without you? If he kept you longer, pulled you down to tickle you, and if that driver didn’t drink– you were his anchor and how he’s drifting around in the waters, being dragged out by the riptide. He cried that night, alone on the couch.

The bank website shows how low his balance is, he doesn’t have any current source of income. His legs shake as he checks the accounts, there’s still a hefty sum in the savings, and there’s Rie’s college fund. He can use the joint savings for the bills, but when it’s used up, what will he do? The house was mid-sized with three bedrooms and two bathrooms. It was manageable with a stable income from him and your remote job, but now there’s none of that. All of his time is spent on Rie, she’s not yet one. He can’t give up the house– it was your dream. You’re still all around– he hasn’t entered the bedroom in months, and your things are right where you left them.

“You’re thinking pretty hard.” Sakura peeps at the laptop, “What’re you lookin’ at?”

“Bills.” Togame scratches his head. Sakura and Kotoha had come by this evening.

“Is it bad?” Sakura asks and gulps.

“It’s not bad yet, but it will be.”

“If money’s a problem, I can chip in,” Kotoha speaks up. “It’s the right thing to do.”

“Me too.” Sakura chimes in.

“You guys are already helping enough…”

“Listen, do you see your situation? You’re not in any position to deny help.” Kotoha squints her eyes at him while stroking Rie’s back. He can’t say anything else back, “Thank you.”

Sakura coughs, “So, why’d you ask for boxes?”

“I just wanna organize her stuff. I– I haven’t been in our bedroom in a while, because I’m scared. I’m scared of moving her things– packing her away. It feels like I’m removing her presence…but at the meeting, they said I would need to do it eventually. I know I’m putting it off– but, but…it just sucks.” Togame takes a deep breath. “I don’t want to face it– face that she’s gone, even her office– I can’t bring myself to open the door. Because it feels like she’s on the other side, sitting in her chair. I don’t want to open it and not find her there.” He spills himself out. “This is her home too.”

They fall silent, lips shut tight. “We’ll help you,” Sakura spoke, his voice was wobbly. “I’ll stay the night. I don’t have anything tomorrow.” Togame nods appreciating the younger man’s support. Kotoha holds Rie tighter.

The first thing they tackle is the bedroom. The sheets are stripped, leaving the mattress bare, and the socks you left on the carpet are thrown into the laundry bin. There’s a large box on the dresser, the one he received from the funeral service provider as the next of kin. Inside contains all the things you had on you at the time of death. Kotoha is sorting things out in the bathroom next door, sorting your cosmetics and trinkets. With shaky hands, he opens it for the first time. Your bag, jewelry, and shoes are all in this one box. The clothes are gone, they were too soaked in blood to be returned. He holds the shoes in his hands and places them on the floor. There are little brown spots on it. The next item is a plastic bag, containing your earrings, bracelets, and your ring. The one he gave you. He sniffles. In your bag, he finds your phone, lip balm, hairbrush, compact mirror, wallet, and a Polaroid. A photo of your family; you, him, and Rie. His lungs shake. Your phone is now in his hands, there’s still some battery left in it since it lights up. He unlocks it, and the first thing he sees is a direct message log. It’s to him, there’s something in the text bar: I’ll be home soon, love you.

Togame breaks down, he transforms into a puddle on the floor. Sakura and Kotoha find him pressing the phone to his forehead as he sobs. He passes away, unable to endure.

They stop there for the day. The next morning, they work the kitchen out. The mixer you hadn’t yet touched gets placed into the to-sell box. The juicer is kept, he can’t part with it and he plans on using it. Togame’s body moves without thought, his brain is too tired to keep up, but if he rests, he’s uneasy and something gnaws at him from the inside. Next, the office.

The door handle sticks dust to his hand when he pushes it down. The curtains are still open, the chair is pushed in, and you’re not anywhere to be found. Spiderwebs are nestled in every nook and cranny, a layer of dust settled over the desk, and your mug has coffee stains in it. He holds the ceramic in his hands, “I want to keep this room as is– I think I’m going to use it as my office.” Kotoha and Sakura nod, so instead, they tidy the room up.

Sakura surveys the shelves, photo frames are lined up, and your degree is placed in the middle. He feels like he is intruding into your personal space. It’s now an empty room, but it was once bursting with life. A red box catches his eye, it’s placed on the very top, and he stands on his tippy-toes to reach it. It’s in his hands, he pulls the top off, and inside contains letters. Sakura doesn’t read them, but he senses they are important. He places the top back on, “Where should I put this?”

Togame turns around, “Hmm? What’s that?” He takes the container from Sakura and peeks inside. He knows what it is. The paper sides of the box dents under his tight grip.

That night, he dreams about you. He returns to that cramped attic, he returns next to you. Your eyes shine– so full of energy, it’s a lovely portrait. Togame can’t hear what you are saying, he doesn’t remember what you were talking about. Ah, that’s right, this is when he asked you out. He so desperately wants to reach out and touch you again, feel your skin against his, kiss your soft lips, hold your warm hands, but he can't because his body doesn’t move. So, he tries to talk to you.

“I love you, please– please. You must’ve been in pain. I’m sorry I couldn't be there, I’m sorry I didn’t save you, I’m sorry I didn’t text you back, I’m sorry I didn’t hold you back that day. It was scary, wasn’t it? I let you die alone. I’m so, so sorry.” You remain stoic, smiling at him. “Rie’s gotten bigger, she’s eating actual baby food now. I think she’s going to walk soon. It’s almost her first birthday. She resembles you more and more by the day. I miss you. I miss you so much I want to die. Aren’t you going to yell at me for saying that?” Maybe because it’s a dream that his words come out smoothly. Your mouth moves, but he can’t hear anything. You laugh. If you’re happy in this silly dream, does that count?

A week later he witnesses Rie’s first steps, her first words, and he grieves you at the same time.

“Come here, Rie. Come to papa.” Togame holds his arms out, she wobbles like a fawn. Puffing her cheeks out, she pushes herself back up to her feet and puts one foot down. She takes four steps and collapses into her father’s arms. Togame picks her up and spins around, Rie shrieks with laughter, throwing her head back. He kisses her forehead, “You did so well sweetheart.” Her eyes squeeze shut before popping open, “Mnnn, mph…” She tries so hard to talk, to use her voice, to communicate. “Po–Pa, Papa!”

Backpacks are lined out on the displays. Small and box-shaped. Togame had no idea sending a child to school would be so much work. Indoor shoes, uniforms, hand towels, stationary, and the list goes on. Rie is six and is set to enter elementary school in April. She’s her own person and walks with an openness and willingness for joy. It’s a major turning point in her life as she sets out on her academic pursuit. With the community chipping in, the house stayed, and with Rie going to school, Togame decided to do job searching again. He can’t keep depending on everyone else, he gets a visceral urge to continue standing on his own two feet without support. Umemiya and his wife offered to watch over Rie for the afternoons since their kids are also going to the same school. It’s a good idea because Togame no longer feels the fear that she’ll disappear when she’s out of his sight— because he trusts Umemiya.

With no high school diploma, traditional job hunting wouldn’t work out for him. So, he called up his old coworkers and luckily, one of them said they could introduce him to someone who was hiring. Togame could sense that he wanted to say something, but held back. A few days later, Togame went and met the restaurant owner, with his decent experience and knowledge of the kitchen, he was hired to work late mornings to late afternoons. He could pick up Rie on the way home after she played with the Umemiyas for a few hours.

It’s midnight and he misses you. He still keeps to his side of the bed, staring at the empty place. Togame stares up at the ceiling, he wants to say he’s come to terms with your passing, but sometimes he’s not okay. Somedays he wants to curl up under the blanket and disappear from the world. The bedroom door creaks open, “Dad…?”

He sits up, “Rie? What is it?”

“Can…Can I sleep with you?”

“Sure– yeah, come here.” Togame pats your side of the bed. She slowly closes the door behind her and creeps over to the mattress. Rie slides under the sheets and lays her head against the pillow. “Are you alright?” Togame pulls the blanket over her and she nods. Her lip gets caught between her teeth as she fiddles with her fingers.

“Um, dad?”

“Yes?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“What is it?”

“Do you hate mom?”

Togame’s eyes widen, out of everything he was not expecting his daughter to ask him that. He swallows saliva down, wetting his throat, “What makes you say that?”

“At school, Kosaka– I heard him say that his dad hates his mom because she left him. Do you hate Mom because she left us?” Her voice is barely above a whisper.

“I would never hate Mom…I love her just as much as I love you.”

He loved you and you left him.

“What was Mom like? Fukasawa was telling everyone about her mom’s new book– I don’t anything about my mom. Did she write books too?”

“Mom didn’t write books, but she read to you a lot…she read to you day and night. She was wondrous, you take after her in that. Mom’s still reading to you.” He lightly taps her chest, right above her heart, “She’s reading to you in here.” Rie smiles.

“I want to meet Mom. Dad, do you miss Mom?”

“I do, I miss her a lot. But since you’re here, she’s also here with me.”

“If Mom was here…do you think we’d be happy like the Umemiyas?”

It’s not strange for children to compare themselves to others. Pit their situation against their peers. He’s attended countless meetings, read through hundreds of blogs, and spent years trying to find the right way to tell his daughter that her mother was no longer here.

“Are you unhappy?”

Rie shakes her head, “I’m happy– I have you, I have Dad don’t I?”

“And I have you.” Togame pats the blanket on top of her.

It’s Rie’s eighth birthday, she’s practically bouncing while waiting in line. Togame purchased train tickets to the aquarium. He took the weekend off to celebrate with her, it's currently the day before her birth. The worker scans his barcodes and they head inside. Rie pulls the map wide open, reading all the exhibits. “Where do you want to go first?”

“I wanna see the rays! Dad! Can we?” She beams a wide smile, one front tooth is missing.

“Sure, let’s go, but stay by my side, okay?”

“Okay!”

Rie loves manta rays, the face she makes is exactly like the one you made all those years ago. She presses her palms against the large pane of glass, staring up at all the fish with her mouth agape. “What’s that one?” Togame’s eyes follow where she’s pointing, a flat fish. “Let me check,” he pulls his phone out to search for what animal it was. An angelfish. Rie doesn’t listen when he tells her though, too excited about moving to the next tank. He carries a tote bag and the lunch inside weighs his shoulder down.

“Kame! One more!” Choji raises his hand at the counter.

“Are you alright?” Sakura pokes at the green onion in his ramen while talking.

“About?”

His friends frequent the restaurant he works at and the owner doesn’t mind since it's more business and money. Choji and Sakura frequent the most after their jobs since they have nothing better to do. Sometimes Umemiya and the four old Bofurin kings swing by. Sometimes Kotoha pops in with Rie. Sometimes that eyepatch and freckles come with Sakura. Sometimes Sako, Arima, Kanuma, and Inugami have a meet-up.

“The anniversary is coming up.”

“Ah, right… Kame, will you be okay?” Choji frowns.

“Yeah, I’ll be alright.” Togame places another gyoza plate in front of his old leader.

Even now they worry about him. Reflecting back, he was a mess for the first couple of years. He was angry, consumed in a fit of rage at the loss of his best friend, lover, and wife. That anger is now long gone and what he feels is much softer. Sakura moves on and talks about what his current worries are and Choji pokes fun at him even though he’s also in the same situation. It felt exactly like when they all ate together during after-school hours. They all took different paths, but are all together again. The three men were steadily living life, day after day. Going where the wind takes them.

Togame and Rie stand in front of the gravesite, where the last remaining pieces of you rest. Your body is long gone. The truth is, you still plague his mind. Because he loved you with his everything, you wholly possess his body every moment. The sun would burn out and collapse before he forgets about you, he’ll remember you longer than the time he knew you. He’ll keep finding you everywhere he goes. The sea salt he uses reminds him of the beach and the bookstores smell like you. Rie looks up at him, “Should we go home now?” She nods and a solemn expression is on her face. Rie doesn’t remember you, but she feels an intense longing for her mother. Togame wraps his arms around her, she’s exactly like you, Rie cries in his arms, soaking his shirt. Among the rows of graves, two souls glow together.

The world is no longer scary.

He buys a card at a convenience store.

He writes another letter to no recipient:

To my darling,

Happy 46th Birthday. Rie’s in high school now– our baby is now a high schooler. I miss you a lot today. Do you miss me too? I found the candle you love at a store, it’s burning right now. The room smells like you. I want to sit with you again. I want to fold your clothes for you again. You know that cardigan you wore a lot? Rie likes it, so she wears it. It fits her perfectly just like how you wore it. Rie likes peach juice, she uses that juicer you use, and sometimes she makes me some. When we meet again will you praise me? Can you tell me I did a good job with your sweet voice again? I want to hear you speak again. I can’t hear you in my dreams anymore. Do you still love me? I love you. It was an honor to love you and be your husband.

– Your husband, Togame Jo

a/n: I cut it short because I didn’t want to keep writing :P

#Read the contents!#wind breaker x reader #wind breaker smut #wind breaker angst #togame jo x reader #jo togame x reader #togame x reader #togame smut #togame angst #mino.writes

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runninriot · 5 months

Text

written for the @steddiesongfics may prompt

(David Bowie - Absolute Beginners, 1986)

wc: 1986 | rated: t | tags: Steddie in love, newly established relationship, fluff, background characters, Good Uncle Wayne Munson | also on ao3

As long as we’re together, the rest can go to hell

Waking up in Eddie’s arms for the first time feels unreal. Like maybe he’s not really awake after all. Maybe Steve’s still stuck in a beautiful dream and the sound of the other man’s peaceful breathing is just a fragment of his imagination. But he can feel Eddie’s chest rise and fall beneath his head, can feel the comfortable weight of Eddie’s arm on his back, the soothing warmth of his skin.

Maybe it is real.

Maybe they actually, finally got their shit together – as Robin would say.

God, Robin would be so smug if she could see him right now, nuzzling Eddie’s skin, sinking deeper into the sleeping man’s arms.

She’d known there was something going on, told him so but never pushed. Even before that night Eddie came out to them a few months back. Where Robin told him her secret, too, and Steve didn’t even know he had one of his own to share.

Before Steve realised what that funny feeling was. What it meant to have a riot of butterfly wings create a storm in his stomach, to have his heartbeat set the rhythm to a song he’s never heard before.

Man, she will be so proud of herself when- if they tell her.

They will tell her, right?

They’ll them all – Robin, Nance, the kids...

Dustin.

Oh God, what will Dustin say if they tell him that they’re-

Together?

Are they together?

Is this- Is this what they are?

It must be, right?

Eddie told him he loves him. Kept repeating the words over and over again between kisses. Said it so many times, Steve had no reason to believe it wasn’t true.

It must be true because Steve wants it to be true.

Eddie is-

This isn’t just a stupid crush, some made-believe infatuation with his high school sweetheart. Steve isn’t a stupidly naive teenager anymore. He knows the difference between simply searching for affection and truly wanting to be with someone.

He is in love with Eddie. That’s a fact. Unshakeable like the fact that water is wet, the sun is hot, and the moon is 238.700 miles away from earth (yes, he does listen to Dustin ramble about his stupid nerd interests sometimes, thank you very much).

He’s in love and although this is all very scary and new, he wants their friends to know about them. Wants them to be happy for them.

But what if they’re not?

What if the fact that he’s in love with another man gives Mike one more reason to hate him? What if Lucas refuses to let Steve coach him because of it? What if it doesn’t work out and Dustin has to choose between him and Eddie? What if-

“I can hear you think.”

Steve startles when Eddie tightens his arms around him, pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head. And when he looks up at Eddie, Steve finds two sleepy eyes blinking back at him.

“Morning, baby,” Eddie says through a smile and-

Steve’s heart immediately does that thing again and there’s this familiar feeling in his gut, and Eddie looks so soft in the warm morning light that Steve just can’t not kiss him.

“Morning,” Steve finally answers when they part – Eddie’s hand still holding his face, beautiful eyes looking right into his soul, and Steve feels like flying.

“Hm, so that’s not what it’s about, huh?”

Steve’s confused, doesn’t know what Eddie is talking about and it must show on his face because Eddie chuckles before he continues.

“For a moment I was scared you’ve gotten all nervous and fidgety because you were- I don’t know. That maybe you had doubts. About this?” He moves his free hand between the two of them, pointing at himself and back at Steve.

“But I guess you kissing me despite my morning breath must mean you-“

Steve shuts him up with another press of lips, morning breath be damned. He won’t give Eddie any reason to even think for another second that he doesn’t want this. Because he does. He wants this, them, together. Probably more than he’s ever wanted anything in his life.

He shakes his head, doesn’t know how to express all those things that are rattling his mind. How to tell Eddie what goes on in his head without stumbling over the words, without twisting his tongue, without making a fool of himself because-

They’ve only just woken up and it’s the first time they’re in bed together and instead of just enjoying the moment, instead of being in the here and now, Steve is already like, 238.700 steps ahead.

“Talk to me, Stevie. Tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

Steve slowly relaxes into the pleasant feeling of Eddie’s fingers gently scraping along the back of his neck like he’s trying to coax the words out of him, trying to help slow down his racing thoughts. And somehow, it works.

“I was just-“ Steve takes a deep, grounding breath, “I was just wondering if we should tell the others. About us. A-about us being... boyfriends?”

Steve feels heat spreading in his face, feels the blush creep from his cheeks to his ears.

He didn’t mean to make it sound like a question but they haven’t really defined what they are, yet. They’ve been way too busy making out, kissing, touching – God, how could he not have been completely distracted by the way Eddie kissed him. The way he painted his neck in love-coloured bruises. How he worshipped Steve’s whole body with his lips like he was something special, something worth taking his time with.

And oh, his time he took, that teasing bastard. Made it his mission to kiss every goddamn mole and freckle on Steve’s body. Started counting them with his lips, his tongue, tracing his fingers over every inch of his exposed skin. Kissed him where no one had ever kissed him before, his touch so careful and gentle it only made Steve crazy for more, more, more.

By the time Eddie finally put his mouth on him, Steve was already so far gone that it took not even 30 seconds for him to lose it. But then Eddie didn’t give him a chance to feel embarrassed about it, just kept kissing him, touching him, showering him in sweet little nothings that meant everything to Steve.

“Steve? You with me?”

Hm? Oh.

“S-sorry. What did you say?” Steve smiles apologetically, relieved when Eddie chuckles lightly.

“I said. Yes, boyfriends. If you want that? And yes to telling people. God, I can’t wait to see Dustin’s stupid little face when he hears that I, Eddie Munson, get to date the hottest guy in Hawkins. Hell, the hottest guy in the entire fucking world!”

Eddie balls his fist and punches the air like he’s just won a competition, and the excitement in his voice is infectious, startles a loud and very unsexy snort out of Steve.

“Take that, Dustin! So much for teasing me for my lack of success in the dating department. Ha! Oh, but Mike will be devastated. Everyone knows he’s got the biggest crush on you.”

“What?! Shut up, he does not!” Steve is screeching now, tears in his eyes from laughing so hard.

“You think I’m lying? Ask Lucas! He was the one that told me. Said he doesn’t quite get it but Lucas only has eyes for Max so, of course he doesn’t.”

“Eddie, stop! I don’t believe it. Mike hates me! Sometimes I could swear he’s doing his best to pretend I don’t even exist.”

“Tell yourself whatever makes you feel good, baby,” Eddie winks, smiles so bright it’s like he’s the sun himself. Bright like the sun and just as hot.

(How hot is the sun? Dustin will know, he’ll ask him next time he sees him.)

“Robin will be a tough one, though.”

“Huh? Robin? She’s literally one of us, Eds. Why should she of all people have any problem with us being together?”

Eddie must sense his concern, because he glides his thumb over Steve’s furrowed brows to smooth out the worry lines, kisses him on the forehead like that’s gonna stop his mind from reeling.

Weirdly enough, it does.

“Well, duh! She’ll be so happy for you. It’s me I’m worried about.”

Eddie winks at him and that’s when Steve finally catches on. He huffs out a laugh, rolls his eyes in fake-annoyance, can’t not smile when Eddie offers him the saddest, most convincing puppy eyes he’s ever seen.

“She’s going to kill me if I ever so much as make you mad or, god forbid, sad for whatever reason.”

“Oh that’s easy to avoid. Just never make me mad or sad and you’ll be fine,” Steve mocks him, knows deep down Eddie would never anyway.

“What about-“ Steve realises he hasn’t even thought about that before.

They’re at the trailer. Steve heard Wayne come home from his night shift a while ago, knows the man’s still awake, considering the noise coming from the outside Eddie’s bedroom.

“Do you want to tell Wayne? It’s okay if not. We don’t- We can just pretend nothing has changed. I don’t want him to get mad. Or, or worse.”

Now it’s Eddie’s turn to look worried and Steve gets it. He couldn’t even think about telling his own parents. His father would- No, he’ll just have to keep this from them. Not like they ever really care for what goes on in his life anyway.

“Come on.”

What?

Eddie throws back the blanket they shared, leaving them both naked and exposed to the light of the day, the reality of the night before hitting them both with a rush of childish embarrassment, sending a deep blush into both their faces, both not used to being so vulnerably bare in front of each other.

But Eddie seems to regain his composure quickly, untangles from Steve’s arms and jumps out of the bed.

He grabs two pairs of boxers and sweatpants and shirts from his dresser, tossing half of them at Steve who’s still too stunned to speak.

“Eddie, what-”

“Hurry up, sweety! I smell coffee.”

Steve follows Eddie, nervously fussing with his hair in a weak attempt to make himself more presentable, less... ‘spent the night making out with your nephew’, hiding behind Eddie when Wayne catches sight of them.

“Morning boys. Coffee?” The man grumbles, not even batting an eye when Eddie abruptly turns, grabs Steve by the face, and plants a kiss right on his mouth.

“Yes, please. Me and my boyfriend would love a nice cup of coffee. Don’t we, Stevie?”

Eddie beams at him, a teeth-flashing grin on his face, and Steve wants to kill him. Wants to kiss him even more. Doesn’t know what to say, what to do. Just stands there, frozen in shock, dumbly nodding to answer the question he only vaguely remembers has been asked.

“I see.” Wayne stands up from the armchair he was sitting in, walks over to them, blank expression on his face.

He exhales deeply and Steve holds his breath, not ready for whatever comes next.

“Took you long enough to figure it out.”

Eddie shoots his uncle a look, rolls his eyes, scoffs – and Steve feels the weight of a thousand worlds fall off his shoulders.

(How much does one earth weigh? He’ll ask Dustin. Maybe he-)

“You better treat him right, son. You do not wanna get in trouble with me for hurting him, you hear me?”

Steve’s mouth falls open in disbelief when he realises those words are directed at Eddie and not at him.

That’s what finally cuts the tension. Steve starts laughing, loud and whole-heartedly, feels lighter, better than ever before.

He kisses Eddie again, because he can. They’re in love, and that’s okay.

And as long as they’re together, the rest can go to hell.

#steddiesongfics #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fluff #steddie fic

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daistea · 2 months

Note

Hello dais! I’ve been binge reading all of your content recently and first of all I have to say I’m obsessed with all of your writing, it has changed how I look at character from Dungeon Meshi entirely. and second of all, I’ve been thinking about Mithrun with a tall-man reader, or just any short-lived race really and how he would react after they had passed away? I don’t know how you feel about angst really but I’m a sucker for pain and can’t stop thinking about this. Sorry if this seems messy, I’m just thinking too many thoughts about Mithrun right now.

Thank you so much friend!!! Sorry for the late response! This was a good prompt, something close to my heart.

Mithrun x gn, short-lived Reader

tw death, loss, angst

»»-------¤-------««

Mithrun would not do well.

When he loves, he loves deeply. He wasn’t always so loyal, but after the demon and after working so hard to cultivate desires, Mithrun would attach himself to those he cares about. He isn’t clingy in a traditional sense, but he’s intense. To you, even more so.

He’d always known it would happen; you started moving slower. You started aging. He didn’t care how you looked. He was aging as well, though at a different rate. Mithrun had never cared for the sentiment of ‘growing old’ with someone. He didn’t understand it, mainly because he truly believed he’d die once the demon was gone.

Yet, there he was, in his mid-200s. He had you. He couldn’t let you go. When you slowed down, complained of joint pain and laughed at your gray hairs, he’d always brush you off. There was time. There was always time.

Awareness did not equal acceptance. Simply because something was a fact of life did not mean it deserved to exist in peace. Most facts of life had negative contexts, but people spoke of them as if they expected Mithrun to be content, to lower his fists, to stop fighting.

He knew the day would come. No amount of preparation made it easier.

“You’re 252 years old, Captain,” Lycion murmured.

Mithrun wasn’t sure what that had to do with anything. He glanced up at the ex-Canary, though the look in Lycion’s eyes immediately made his blood run hot. He forced himself to look away simply to keep from breaking something.

“And?”

“You still have around half your life left,” Lycion continued with that tone that had become all too familiar— insistent, worried, pitying. He should’ve known better than to use it on Mithrun.

“And?” “And you still have time to move on.”

Unacceptable. There was anger, of course, there was always anger swirling within him. But lately, Mithrun had become more sensitive to dread. His stomach churned and sickness crawled up his throat. Move on? As if that was an option.

The sight of your body haunts him.

Your skin was cold. Everything was wrong. He couldn’t stop feeling, so much more than he’d felt in ages. All he wanted was for it to stop. When he closed his eyes, he saw you. When he tried to sleep, he heard you. He recalled the lilt of your voice and it refused to leave his brain. Despite how desperately he craved peace, he didn’t want to forget you. He held onto the memories for as long as his imperfect brain would allow.

Mithrun doesn’t leave his house.

He only eats because he knows you’d be mad at him if he didn’t.

He changes nothing about the decor. If you left a sweater on the floor before you died, it will stay there for years.

Things start changing. If you caught bugs and released them, he’d start doing that as well, despite how he just squished them in the past. If you seasoned food a certain way, he’d do it too, no matter how salty or spicy it is.

Truly, Mithrun hangs onto every tiny detail of you. He’s never been a detail oriented person, but he knows you. Perhaps now, he knows you better than ever.

At first, he’ll be doing a chore and, without a second thought, call out for you. He needs your opinion on how to separate this laundry. There’s a sale on veggies he knows you’d be interested in. But right as he says your name, he realizes the truth. You’re not there. He won’t hear your footsteps cross the house, or see your smile as you ask him to repeat himself, or see you roll your eyes at the dumb laundry question.

It’s a huge change. Mithrun can’t sleep for a bit. His body eventually forces him to sleep.

He’s lost people before. He’s lost friends, people who helped build Melini. It’s different with you. He isn’t quite sure what to do with himself.

Mithrun returns to what he did when first regaining his desires— he busies himself with hobbies and work. His universe is falling apart, but he’s getting very good at making noodles. (He’d like you to try them.)

“I’m not moving on,” Mithrun says.

“They were just a—”

“And you’re just an idiot,” he retorts.

Cithis’s jaw sets, tense. She looks at the wall over Mithrun’s shoulder instead, as if looking him in the eye was too tempting, as if she was ready to strangle him. “You know what I mean.”

He didn’t. He didn’t know much of anything these days.

“You’re not usually this concerned,” Mithrun mused as he leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. “Bored of your own problems?”

It was cruel, he had enough wherewithal to know that. Cithis may have lacked general empathy, though she cared about her friends to a certain extent. If only she was better at comfort. If only Mithrun wanted comfort.

Her gaze finally shifted to land on him, “You’ll have to start living again at some point.”

It takes Mithrun around 50 years to realize that life continues. Your death felt like the end of a world— in a way, it was the end of a world. He can’t forget you. He won’t ever stop grieving. He’s so angry sometimes because you dared to leave him, even though it wasn’t your fault.

Yet, Mithrun is an expert at restarting.

“I know,” Marcille murmured. Her voice was thick with emotions Mithrun didn’t bother to identify. He simply glanced at her, his good eye wide.

“What?” He asked.

“I know how it is,” she explained. She had her hands behind her back as she rocked on her heels in an almost childish manner, despite her age. He supposed that for her, the early 100’s was still shockingly young. He’d never understand how a half-elf’s mindset worked. But he knew she’d lost someone. Everyone.

“You couldn’t possibly,” Mithrun told her despite how much of a blatant lie his words were.

Marcille rolled her eyes. She looked nearly done with him, and he wouldn’t blame her for that. Still, she managed to send him a half-glare, “It gets slightly easier. You’ll still do stuff and think ‘wow, I wish they were here to see this.’ You’ll still crave their company and attention and touch. You’ll still dream of them.”

He knew that. “What part of this is supposed to be comforting?”

Marcille scoffed, “I’m not trying to be comforting. I’m just telling you the truth, as someone who's gone through it too. They’re still there, with you. But life gets easier.”

What a simple phrase. It wasn’t as if everyone in Melini hadn’t already told him that a hundred times over.

Mithrun looked away. Marcille grumbled to herself about useless attempts and arrogant Canaries.

Perhaps he was arrogant. Perhaps he was angry. Perhaps he wanted to sink his fingers into the fabric of the universe and tear it to shreds for daring to take you.

But there was no time for that. He had laundry to do.

#asks #mithrun #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #mithrun x reader #dunmeshi #mithrun of the house of kerensil #x reader #reader insert #my writing #dungeon meshi imagines #dunmeshi x reader

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whalesforhands · 3 months

Text

what’s yours is mine (7/?)

previous masterlist next

pairing: geto suguru x reader x gojo satoru

You don’t know a lot of things, and you readily admit that. What you do know, is that the friends you’ve made aren’t something you will ever regret. Until your physical body weakens and becomes nothing, you’re more than happy to give your all until you wither away.

What’s yours can be theirs, too. They’re your friends, after-all. (Omegaverse AU)

“You’re not going to get any better if you don’t lie down.”

Yet you don’t listen, only clinging harder onto your Mama and pressing your face into her thigh from behind, helplessly balling her clothes into your fists as she watches the stove that had yet to be turned on.

Where a pot of uncooked rice porridge still sat atop, cold and unappetizing; totally unfit for a sick child such as you.

It was a curse that you swore had beset you on this unlucky day as you woke up groggy and sapped of your energy, stumbling over your blanket with shortened breaths as you tried to get to the bathroom.

You’re sure of it. An evil villain had blackened your soul, diminished your health and withered your spirit— All because you were a hero. That’s why Mama came upstairs only to find your half-dressed self face-planted onto the futon, your body trembling and clearly struggling to dress yourself without her as your eyes went teary from stress and the resentment of your weakened limbs.

“M-Mama…” Your voice is weak, strained and clearly upset as it tips over into a sob as you’re scooped up into her arms, her forehead pressed against yours in hurried moves as her much cooler hands hold your limp body.

You’re burning up.

“Honey, I think you’re sick.” It’s in a quiet coo, a soft trill to her tone in attempts to hush the beginnings of you throwing a fit.

“I-I’m n-not sick…!” You denied, hands curled into weak fists to throw a miniature, and very fatigue-ridden tantrum as your eyes tear up, bottom lip trembling as you try your best not to cry.

And Mama knows that you’re not the type to deny yourself from such things. Not the type of good child that would decline being babied and fawned over by her within any given circumstance. But she gets it, gets you.

It’s the day of the sports festival after all.

At the ripe young age of 8, sports has always been a defining point in popularity and the general likability of an individual in their class. A time for kids such as yourself to build repertoire, to build a reputation for themselves. A way to be labelled as ‘someone’.

Simply put, it was your opportunity to make friends without actually ‘making friends’. A, in your opinion, relatively smart way of flouting Satoru’s promise and Suguru’s disapproving gaze.

(Even if it made you sad to make them sad…)

So you chose to take part in the relay race, the one team based event that you think you could not possibly be bad at, your hand raised high into the air and eyes sparkling with a determination that made you believe that there was definitely a victory in sight when your teacher called for volunteers.

It went against your yearly choice of being on the cheer team, but you think change can be a good thing.

(Heroes always talk about it in anime.)

That’s why. That’s why your face was burning hot with the passion that was meant to be exerted upon the relay race, the tears leaking out of your eyes and soaking into your Mama’s skirt meant to be ones that would taste like victory when you brought great honour and glory to Class 3B.

It just wasn’t meant to be.

This is definitely the world’s revenge for making your friends upset. Heroes definitely do not have it easy, even if you did single-handedly save Satoru’s playground.

You can’t even eat the super delicious character bento that your Mama had stayed up late last night to make you as your bottom lip wobbles, frustration running high and your hands balling up the fabric of her skirt as you try your absolute hardest to make the swell in your throat go down.

You don’t want to cry. You’re strong. You’re capable. That’s why you’re a hero. That’s why you can’t let the villain who cursed you win.

And when a hand is gently rubbing your head from above alongside the sound of a pot clattering closed; it was enough to make the dam that you had so desperately tried to keep closed burst open.

“It’s okay to be sad.”

She knows how much you trained for this day. How much you let her smear sunscreen all over your face, whining and letting her pat your cheeks as you slip your feet into velcro sneakers, waving her goodbye with your waterbottle tucked underneath your armpit and a hanky in your pocket.

“Satoru said he’ll help me train.” Your look of determination barely falters as you smile up at her. “So I’m gonna work really, really hard.”

Gojo Satoru. The anchor of your class, the star boy who effortlessly gets the best grades despite sleeping through most of the lessons, and the one unanimously decided by the majority that he is the running last because that was just how fast he was. Don’t get yourself wrong, Suguru was fast. And really smart too.

But Gojo Satoru was just too exceptional even for the above average.

So that’s why you’re out here, an empty plastic cup in your hands acting as the ‘baton’ and Suguru waving a palm in front of your face to break you out of your daydreaming trance.

“You sure you wanna train when it’s so hot out?” His brows are furrowed and his lips are downturned into a frown. “Satoru and I don’t mind, but you don’t really like playing outside.”

Other than the playground anyway.

“Mmhm.” A nod of your head and the clenching of your fingers around the replacement baton as your own eyes hued with a fiery resolve met his worried purple. “I gotta do it.”

You’ll do it for glory. For the future where you’ll be as highly revered as your friends, for the classmates to even possibly think that you were the slightest bit cool.

“You’ll help, right?” Your smile is innocent and far too happy, the giddiness on the cheeks that were too cute for him to say anything else.

“…okay.” Anything for you.

This was your hero training arc.

“And Suguru’s gonna be passing to you from that tree, and you’ll pass to me! So we’re gonna practice that by running up and down this path I made Kimi-chan mark out!”

“Seriously? Where’d ya even get them?”

“I made Kimi-chan buy them, duh.”

That sounds easy enough, right? The cones that had been laid out practically beckon you as your ears no longer pick up on the chatter between your 2 friends, a giddy excitement in your stomach as you clench your fists with blazing resolve.

Well, some things are easier said than done.

A fall.

“(name)-sama, are you okay?!” Hands hurriedly pulling you back up to your feet as fingers fumble over your knees. “That was quite a bad fall…!”

Another stumble.

“I’ll run faster so that you have more time to pass to Satoru, okay?” His words are only slightly chopped, slightly winded from the multiple laps that he had gone as his hanky presses against your scratched knee.

An unprecedented tripping over your own feet. Or was it the air…?

“W-What? Ya were so close that time! How’d ya even fall?!” Gojo Satoru is the one who catches you this time, having hurriedly trying to break your fall having noticed the slightest odd bend in your ankles.

“Kimi-chan! How long did that take?!” He pants, wiping the sweat off his brow as the baton sticks to his slick hand, snowy hair sticking to his forehead as Suguru fans himself under the shade of the tree you were all taking refuge under, letting you catch your breath by leaning against him.

Said caretaker looks up from where she was icing your bruises, hands moving swiftly to take another look at the timer. “Exactly 2 minutes and 38 seconds, Young Master.”

“Ehhh? That’s so slow!”

And while you don’t cry a lot, but it doesn’t mean that you never will. It doesn’t mean that you don’t feel frustrated at the fact that you ran so much every single day after school, panting and feeling the heat of the sun on your hands, the sticky feeling of your clothes on your skin as you try not to feel faint. Try to get your bearings back every single time the boys practically ran laps around you.

Training is difficult. And it’s even more difficult to have to come to terms with what was now out of your reach.

“There’s always next year,” Her hand pats your back as her voice is barely above a whisper, gently wiping your tears as you feel her hand upon your chin, gingerly making you release your jaw so that you won’t bite down on your lips.

“What you worked hard for won’t disappear just like that.”

So that you won’t be so hard on yourself either.

“B-but I can’t—“ Can’t do anything even if you worked so hard for it. It’s become useless all on its own, even when you had so clearly forced down more vegetables these days in preparation, gulping down lots and lots of water to aid in the healthiness power up.

“What you can do now is do your best to cheer for your friends, okay? Then your effort won’t go to waste if you cheer really, really hard for them.” Your sight is blurry as you blink through your tears, staring up at the soft expression of your Mama’s face, the fever patch on your head making you start to feel faint.

“You’re really good at cheering too.” Not to brag or anything, but your Mama is definitely right. But you think your running is definitely and hopefully much better.

But that’s the only thing you can do for them now. A second chance, a gleaming, glowing chance that paves way to make up for the fact that you couldn’t win together with them.

So you accept it.

“Okay…” Even if you can’t see them, even if you can’t even cheer for them physically like you did in the previous years. But you’ll pray, pray really really hard in your head that they will win, that they would be the ones to bring the glory that you couldn’t.

You really hope it goes well. You really, really, really hope so as your chin rests on your Mama’s shoulder, your legs wrapped around her waist and her hand patting your back as she carries you up the stairs.

You do wonder how they’re doing up to now, though. Hopefully… Winning?

“No!” A cross of his arms and a huff of annoyance. “No way am I gonna receive from some nobody!” A decisive stamp of his foot into the dirt below, his back turned onto the only other person here that would even dare to go this close to him, especially when he’s kicking up a dust cloud alongside throwing yet another tantrum.

“You’re being too much, Satoru.” He sighs with a palm pressed to his forehead, his hair now shorter than ever so as to comply with school regulations as he watches his stubborn friend.

At least it won’t get in his face when he’s doing sports. Much unlike the fuming Gojo Satoru in front of him.

“Oi Suguru! How could ya let that hag tell us what to do?!”

And Geto Suguru feels like his head was going to split open. “Our homeroom teacher only suggested that we get a replacement because we’re short of one.”

At least, that’s what he’s been trying to get across for the past 10 minutes.

“We don’t need anybody replacin’ her!” Another stomp onto the ground as the blue-eyed boy pouts even harder, making a pebble launch off the ground and rocket towards the concrete wall to ricochet with a force full of repulsed impatience. “They’re gonna be stupider than her for getting sick t’day!”

“Then our class would be a person short, Satoru. And don’t call people stupid.” Because you’d probably be the one to make that comment right about now. Not that it matters, even if it came from the noiret who even tried to dissuade him with words that you’d probably say—

All for naught. Even if they mimicked the way you spoke, it just doesn’t have the same effect. So Geto Suguru had decided to just give up entirely to be the crass, straight to the point self that scratched at the nerves of the neighbourhood Gojo.

(And it looked like Satoru liked this version of him better, anyway.)

It doesn’t make logical sense to skip out on manpower. Not at all, especially when they’re in this specific category looking for a win. Yet, Suguru gets it as his nose scrunches and his brows furrow. He gets why the boy is so adamant on your position not getting swiped from underneath their noses.

(He won’t admit it though. If he does it first, it means Satoru wins.)

“It’s not like you can stop being sick all of a sudden.”

You worked so hard, after all. You would never be the type to lie to skip out on this. You’re just… Unlucky. Or was it their fault for making you play in those rain puddles…?

(“It’s not fair! I even made my maids pack extra special Digimon bentos to eat t’day!”

“Eat them yourself then—“

“No!”)

Alas, he still has to deal with the spoiled prince whom even the teachers seem too scared to make him upset. Seriously, what is up with everyone and the Gojo family?

“Then you just gotta run faster!” A poke of a proud finger into the young boy’s chest, a purposeful prod that was barely teetering on a threat as those shiny blue hues were ignited by a flare of indignation.

A glare that commanded Suguru’s obedience and compliance as those angry cheeks puff up even more.

Suguru would like to deny it, but you’re right when you say that this spoiled, stubborn, annoying boy was c—

“I don’t wanna receive from anybody else!” A click of his tongue as his shoe kicks at the dirt below him, and a smack against the black-haired boy’s shoulder as flabbergasted amethyst clashes against unrelenting sapphire.

“And we’re gonna win, no matter what. So don’t drag us down or I won’t forgive you!”

Good god, he was so difficult to deal with. Not that this was anything out of the ordinary for Geto Suguru, though.

A sigh, and childlike hands that clasped their together into a determined handshake, fingers squeezing into a promise just as the blare of the loudspeaker comes on to announce the start of their event.

“Say that to yourself first, Satoru.” A tightening of their hands as the ‘handshake’ gets ever tighter with their growing adrenaline. “I won’t forgive you either if you lose to the rest of them.”

(“Also, can’t ya eat your bentos yourself? My mama packed me one too with cold soba—“ He immediately shuts up when he spots the angry pout on his friend’s face, red cheeks and fuming anger that threatened to have steam blow out his ears.

And the— Sight of eyes that looked like they were gonna… Cry?

Oh.

“…let’s save some for (name) when we eat them later.”)

——

“Dear,” A cool hand pushes your hair back as you groggily blink awake, tummy still warm from porridge and forehead feeling slightly damp from the soft, moist cloth against your heated skin. “Are you feeling better?”

“Mn…” You think your body is starting to feel less heavy, less burdensome on your bones as you let out a groan, small hand reaching out for the glass of water that looked like it was floating in front of you.

Magic glasses of water taste the best. You would know since you had a couple today. At least… You think it’s magic. It is, right? That’s why they always fly around and looked like there was always more than one surrounding you.

“Geto-san came over with some soup when she heard you were sick.” She’s gently smoothing down your hair as you start to perk up, shifting slightly so as to be able to sit up properly against your Mama’s arm supporting you against your back.

“You can eat it later, okay?”

You hope you have strength to go over and thank her later, though… Do you have to give her something as thanks too? It must be hard, having to make a soup that would help cure the curse upon your body…

Mama stops momentarily as she watches you from above, humming slightly when you finally down the rest of your glass and let out a little sigh, fully going lax against your Mama’s cooler to the touch body as you cuddle up against her.

She should take more off days to stay together with you more—

“Oh, and your friends. They came over to visit as well.”

And that has you whipping around to face your Mama, the sudden movement making your stiff neck cramp slightly from how long you laid down.

But it doesn’t matter. The pain won’t stop you. Won’t stop the racing thoughts you had through your head that mostly overpowered the soreness of your neck.

Was the sports event already over? Did they win? Did they lose— No. Wait. That’s impossible. Your friends could never, would never lose. Oh, but what if there was a possible chance there was? Even if heroes suffered a little bit sometimes the villain could still win—

“But I couldn’t let them in.”

“(name)’s mama! Is she awake yet?” This was probably the third time they had knocked against the front door, hands on his hips and blue eyes staring up at the all too patient woman.

“Satoru— My mama said we have to wait.” Purple eyes blink up at her apologetically. “Sorry, (name)‘s mama, we can wait a while longer—“

“But it’s been like— Too long, Suguru! How much longer until she wakes up???”

Oh. That sucks. You visibly deflate, a whimper escaping you as your shoulders slump into defeat. You can’t even talk to them or else you’ll pass your dirty, cursed germs to them…

“Nothing a call can’t fix,” She uses a soft handkerchief to wipe any remnant moisture, petting your head as her eyes briefly meet the drawn curtains of your shared bedroom.

“And I might… Have a better idea.”

Excited waves from the window, shimmers of gold against reflective glass and your widening eyes as the summer breeze flutters the curtains and ruffles through your hair.

It’s windier than you thought, with the sun in your eyes and the cicadas singing in this heat.

(Or was it because you just spent most of the day sleeping?)

“Look! I won the medals for us!” Half his body was practically hanging off of the window ledge, hands holding all 3 shiny medals as his lower half was held back only by the more responsible friend clinging onto Satoru’s waist and pulling with all the might an 8 year old might have.

“Satoru! Don’t lean over the window— And we won those together!”

A haughty huff.

“Ya, but you didn’t cross the finish line, did ya? I did! But look, look! We got your medal too!”

(“You’re so annoying!”

“Blehhhh!” A stick out of his tongue as excited blue kept jumping in place despite the dangerous position he put himself in. “Kimi-chan’s already down there to catch me just in case, anyway!”)

Golden and shiny and everything that encompassed a winner. It shone so brightly even when competing against the late afternoon sunshine, stood out even when held

Winners. They’re winners.

But if you think about it all on your lonesome, looking upon those shiny medals and standing by your window with your futon wrapped around your form…

There’s something odd about this empty feeling inside of you. Something that lingers in the same sense disappointment would, swirling around you and making you feel… Bad.

Why? You’re happy that your class won, happy that they managed to win the glory you’ve been going on and on about in your head. They’re winners, beat out all the other people who trained hard for this event as well. What is this disgusting feeling of secretly hoping that they lost?

So why? Why is it that you feel this way even as they smile so proudly at you, proclaiming that they’ll personally hang the medal around your neck when you get better so that they can dub you a winner too—

“See? Ya didn’t have to worry about us at all, (name)!” His sparkling blue eyes close to form a matching grin with Suguru who was too busy smiling at you despite your sick state, eyes too busy to notice Gojo Satoru smacking his shoulder when they’re stuck staring at you.

“You’re getting better, right? Your Mama said that you slept a lot. We can talk more with our telephone when Satoru’s gone cause he’s annoying.”

“Hey! I want a string telephone connecting to all your houses too!”

“You live too far. So it’s only mine and (name)’s.”

Ah. You think you get it now. Understand why you feel this way as your hand gingerly presses against your hot cheek and sliding up to your eyes to feel the wetness that was starting to form.

When did you—?

It has your friends doing a double take.

“(name)… Are you crying?” Please don’t cry.

“I-I think she’s just happy that we won! Right, (name)?” Please don’t cry. Not right now.

Because you realize these weren’t tears of happiness, after all. It was the realization that— Despite all your training, despite all the effort you put in to help them, help this class…

They didn’t need you to win after all.

“…yea! Good job!” Your smile feels too unlike any that you’ve ever given, all stretched awkwardly and like it didn’t belong.

This wasn’t you. You know it so, since this is your own self you’re talking about.

You’ve definitely been cursed.

——

And so, it wasn’t long after that you finally recovered, finally able to properly get onto your feet. Finally able to get dressed without your Mama's help, finally able to pick up your backpack without faceplanting onto the ground... All that healing food did wonders.

("You're so happy today, Satoru." You can't help but smile at the boy holding hands with both yourself and your black-haired friend as all 3 of you sat in his car, listlessly listening to the radio together as he sat directly in between the both of you, tips of his ears red as he tries to act... Cool.

"Oh? Satoru, what's with that face?" A smug smile and upturned purple eyes. "Don't tell me it's because you missed-"

"Shut up, Weird Bangs!")

So imagine your surprise when your teacher beckons someone in from outside your classroom door, the entrance sliding open and the taps of an unfamiliar pair of shiny, brand new indoor shoes against the floors of this familiar classroom.

A new kid. One that had a pretty mole by her eye and her prettier name written so neatly upon the blackboard in such neat chalk lines that you just can’t help but feel envious.

“Ieiri Shoko. Please take care of me.” With only the slightest bow as she stares ahead blankly, eyes avoiding the whispers of your already chattering class.

It must be scary, right? To have to stand there and do that… You don’t think you want to be in her position right now.

“Do you think she’s scared?” It’s a thoughtless whisper to the only other person who could possibly hear right now, your own gaze meeting familiar purple.

“Maybe.” He’s dismissive, as if he didn’t care too much as he takes out his pencil case. “I brought the colour pencils you wanted to see, by the way.”

Ohh—! You’ve been wanting to—

“She looks boring.” His crass huff from your other occupied side makes you think he already doesn’t like her. “Don’t talk to her, (name).”

Shimmering comets for eyes turn to meet yours, glowing with a certain spark that had hidden thoughts.

“You’ll get into trouble.”

“Thank you, Ieiri-chan. Please sit at the empty desk near the back by Minato-chan.” A shuffle of papers as your homeroom teacher neatens the stack. “I want you all to be nice to our new friend, okay?”

“Okay, sensei!”

“Good! Now let’s begin class.”

Lunch rolls by far too quickly today. You swear the clock is definitely moving faster than usual.

“Heyyyyy. Stop studying and let’s go playyyyy!” A poke of your cheek as you stare at Suguru’s workings, eyes narrowing as you try to make sense of these complicated numbers.

“Ah, make sure you erase this. You’ll get confused if you don’t.”

“Is this right?” Your paper is pushed towards the more helpful of your friends, anticipating his praise as you wait with bated breath as his purple eyes scan over the worksheet.

You definitely got it this time. Definitely.

“Suguruuuuu! Y’er so slow, I’ll do it!” And that has him snatching up the starting to crumple sheet, blue eyes screening over it with ferocious and frightening accuracy, his cute brows furrowed and his bottom lip jutted out as he lets out a huff.

“This one’s wrong.” A finger taps against your paper, drawing a circle with his fingertip as he yawns. “And this one. This too.”

“The last one was s’pposed to be right but ya forgot to carry the 1 over.” His cheeks puff with dismissiveness when he looks up to only see Suguru comforting you with pats on your shoulder.

Oh.

“W-What? I only checked ‘em over!” He’s not at fault again for something, right? He was sure this was a more straightforward thing of being correct or not, something that shouldn’t be that big of a deal even if it’s because of the way he spoke—

If you hadn’t gotten them all wrong, that is.

“…it’s okay, (name). We can just practice them again.” And you pout, letting Suguru pat your head in consolation as you stare down at the hurriedly marked paper that was handed back to you. “Satoru just doesn’t know how to be nice cause he’s mean.”

“Hey! I can be nice!” Fuming rage and his hands slamming against his desk. “I’ll help ya both study later if (name) gives me a hug and the pudding in your fridge!”

And he’s serious about it. You can tell by his shiny cheeks and those smug half-lidded eyes that he would help— Even if you didn’t give him the pudding. The hug would be mandatory, though.

“What does my pudding even have to do with all this?”

All this whilst that new girl sat alone in the back of the class by herself. She’s not good at making friends, you notice. Quietly keeping to herself as she flips through a book, ignoring the cries of your schoolmates running down the hallway and into the wide, wide yard.

And when hands squeeze your cheeks together, mushing your face into his palms and making you turn away—

“You shouldn’t look at other people when we’re here. Sato—“ He stops himself, eyes moving from the pouting boy and back to your face that was in his hands. “I don’t like it.”

You must’ve been staring for too long.

——

“I don’t wanna go!” He’s clinging to you, backpack hastily thrown onto the ground as Kimiko-san tries her absolute hardest to persuade her young master into the car.

“Please, Satoru-sama. You have martial arts training—“

“Don’t wanna! I wanna stay with (name)!”

So all you can do is stand there and pat his shoulder, his head on your not at all stiff shoulder as you reciprocate his overly attached self, blinking up at a panicking Kimiko-san before down to the head of fluffy white.

“Suguru said he’ll beat you up with judo if you don’t go.”

Because he’s in the club. And he’s really good at it. Better than Satoru, actually.

“That dummy’s not gonna beat me.” It’s off handed and far too self assured as it’s muffled by the strap of your bag.

“You don’t know that.” You really don’t. Suguru’s been going on and on about training a lot, and he let you both see how he could do a flip once. At least— You think it counts as a flip anyway.

And you can hear him mutter unintelligible words, before he pulls away, his hands grabbing onto your shoulders and ferocious, narrowed eyes staring at you head-on with a pout on his lips.

“You better be at home to play with me when we’re back!”

“Okay.” You nod, sticking out your pinky towards him as you smile. “I promise.”

“Hmph!” He takes it, roughly, with a pout that turned into a satisfied smile as he finally— Finally gets in the car.

(“Thank you so much, (name)-sama…”

“It’s okay. I heard Libras were unlucky today cause the stars aren’t aligned for them. You should be cautious about the people around you, lest you run into trouble.”

“T-Thank you, (name)-sama…? Please get home safe. Weather reports say that it will rain soon.”)

And what unexpectedly occurred— Was the fact that the new kid was waiting in the same area as you were, waiting out the rain due to a neglected umbrella that probably sat near her door.

Which was the same case as you were. Except— Despite Kimiko-san’s warning, you ended up wandering around school too long in hopes of getting to watch Suguru train.

“Hi.” You’re trying to make conversation now that it’s just the both of you. Alone. By yourselves. This is a rare chance, honestly. You can count how many times you’ve been left like this by your friends on one hand throughout the years you’ve all been together.

It’s a chance you don’t really want to pass up. Time to put those social skills you’ve gleaned over the years into good use.

(From all those TV shows you’ve watched, of course. Your zodiac sign said that you’ll be lucky if you put yourself out there! And you’re outside right now, so you definitely have been buffed. A special power-up, if you will.)

“…hello.” A response. This is a success. A major success that you got on your own accord.

(Onto the next phase!)

“So didya hear about the… Recent sports festival?” You nod your head. Perfect. Perfect follow-up. “Our school held one a couple days ago.”

“Oh. That.” She doesn’t look up from the book she had been reading all this time. And now that you’re much closer to her than you ever were before—

You realize it’s a manga. Not a book. Technically, she is holding onto a book, but utilizing the hard cover page to cover up the fact that the manga had been sneakily slotted in.

“I was meant to join just a day before, actually. But I made my mama wait a couple days more.”

What.

“You waited until the day after?” Why? Why would she— This new girl do such a thing when it could bring you and your class such great glory?

“But the sports festival is fun…” And a great chance to make a ton of new friends. She’s not under the same promises that you made.

She goes silent, the mole on her cheek rising with her huff as she looks off to the side, out to the open air space that held the path to the school entrance as droplets of water tap against the tips of her shoes.

“Cause it’s bothersome.”

Oh. That’s a new type of answer.

“Do you hate bothersome things?”

And finally— She looks into your eyes, pushing back a stray strand of her long hair and her eyes hued with dews of luster brown that reminded you of the autumn sunset surrounded by orange leaves and sunset rays.

“Yea.”

“Oh.” That’s all you know how to say now, actually. Um… How do you respond to that?

So you go silent. You think she might be annoyed. Hopefully she’s not? You hope she likes you, though. And that you left an okayish impression. Should you tell her she’s pretty? But still, Suguru’s prettier but you can’t tell her that—

“Do you… Usually let them treat you like that?” She sounds… Bored. Maybe taken aback. Or was it simply just curiosity?

Either way, you’ve never really heard anyone ask about that— Other than your Mama, of course. But you tell her everything practically everyday.

“Is there something—“ How should you say it? Is she trying to tell you something? You think it’s fine, even if you don’t know how other people view it. “Bad about the way they treat me?”

You watch as she thinks for a bit, staring off to the side for a bit and up into the dark skies as the rain starts to pour just that little bit harder.

“Not at all.”

——

“Stop looking at me like that, you brat.”

Your eyes were practically boring into him as you watch him rub at a bruise on his cheek, his knuckles stained with dried blood and his green eyes narrowed into a mean glare.

“Did you beat up some—“ You try to think about how he described those people the last time you talked to him— Which was around last week, maybe?

“Butt ugly misters?”

It’s not the exact wording he used, but whatever he says makes you scared to parrot them since you’ve seen one of the old aunties— Sugimoto-san quite literally gasp when she heard him talk once.

“They’re motherfuc— Bad people. Don’t call them misters.”

“You said you didn’t care what I call them though.”

And all you get in response is the click of his tongue. “Whatever, brat.”

Silence. It’s steady and beating and not at all uncomfortable as you watch him pull out another piece of his snack, big teeth chewing with an open mouth and manners flying away. Yet, you still end up asking from your built up curiosity and these mere few minutes just before either of your friends would make it home.

It’s your free time, anyway.

“Mister, am I a bothersome person?” Like those thugs that he gets into scraps with practically every month?

A deep huff as his teeth chew on dried squid, gnawing at the tough exterior as he stares off into the oranges of the sky. “Duh. Who even likes annoying brats like you?”

Even when he says it like that, you can’t help but feel that it’s not true. There’s a reason you hang around him, a reason you still stay despite how mean and nasty this almost adult can be and how often he lies about how he definitely didn’t get into fights.

It’s because he reminds you a little of Satoru.

His words may cut, may be a little overwhelming and cruel. But they ultimately held no weight, nothing particularly soul-crushing or tear weeping.

You might even dare to say that even his insults sound very comforting to you.

That was why you were eating the very crushed biscuits that had been almost mashed into dust right out of the very crinkled plastic packaging that it came out from right now.

(He bought it for you.)

“Nuh uh. Mama says I’m a good kid.”

Maybe it’s the sincerity in your tone, the innocence that can only come from a child that got him thinking.

He doesn’t know how to describe how he’s feeling right now as he stares down at his bruised knuckles, bloody and calloused and hastily bandaged as he grunts.

“Then stop hanging out with me if you think that, kid.”

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#jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #satosugu x reader

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bubbleddisasters · 4 months

Text

(Can’t believe I’m writing my first ever x reader (kind of) this but the Self Aware Au is so interesting to me)

Code Escaping: Heartstabyl Edition.

(All Students (can be viewed as platonic or romantic, Orthos is strictly platonic though)

Gender Neutral Reader!

——-

After several attempts, and failures, they finally succeeded.

They got through

To your world.

What next? Try and Find you, Rush to your side first thing and try to casually explain that a video game character broke out of their code to see them?

Maybe set things up first? Comfy living, then an easy way to find you? Or go off clues from things you used to say or areas he saw behind you? Or did he get lucky and he’s two feet away?

Man, He should have checked the code for your location…..No time to lose!

------------------

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒃𝒚𝒍

-----------------

𝑹𝒊𝒅𝒅𝒍𝒆 🌹

——

Truth be told, he got quite lucky.

A library is where he arrived, one he recognized as your hiding spot to study, or simply relax.

So, he found every tome he thought relevant on what he needed to know of the basics of your world, aswell as the one he last witnessed you study, and sat himself in the seat next to where you usually did, awaiting your arrival.

Was it timely? Perhaps, Perhaps not.

You’d been slightly (Very) annoyed that for some reason, none of your Riddle cards would show his appearance. The Chibi was no where to be seen, and your homescreen vacant of him.

So as you made your way to your spot, you nearly shrieked because either thats a damn good cosplay or Riddle Rosehearts was very casually reading the history textbook your teacher assigned while sitting four feet away from your usual spot.

Steel blue eyes scoped to check the noise, and sat up instantly.

“Just as I expected, you’d arrive here sooner or later. You certainly took your time, however.”

Before you could process the fact he sounded suspiciously like Ciel Phantomhive, he quite literally summoned a tea set. Out of thin air.

And was just staring. Most definitely waiting for you to sit down casually like he didn’t summon an entire china set with piping hot tea in a magicless world.

This was the real deal. Mommy Issues Supreme was now officially your problem. Good Luck.

————————

𝑻𝒓𝒆𝒚♣

——

He remembered the name of the bakery down the street you visited.

As a joke, when you’d finished book one, you’d ordered a Strawberry Tart. He couldn’t exactly remember if you actually ate it, or gave it away, but it was funny, regardless.

Using Paint the Roses, he altered a napkin into a very nice resume, and he got a job there.

When Trey up and vanished from your homescreen, you’d gone to get a pastry to cheer yourself up. Not the best coping skill, but hey, it works.

It was pretty late, and it seemed they were closing up, so you planned to just be in and out, not wanting to make their job any harder.

The little bell rung as you entered, and the little alarms in your head went off when you arrived at the counter, and a-wait, why would someone cosplay at their job? Trey and working at a Bakery fit together, but…wait a second. Thats not a wig, and thats not contacts either.

If Ingame Trey was missing, and this guy looked exactly like him…..Nope, Not Possible.

Trying to play it casual , you ordered the usual and once you had it, sat down as you normally would.

But when you took a bite of your treat, it tasted like….Strawberry. Then Chestnut. What the hell.

You unintentionally had an odd staring contest with the current cashier, who then held out a scarily familiar pen, chuckling a bit as he placed it on the counter.

“Surprise.”

After making his way around the counter, he sat down on the other side of the table, doing his best to not freak you out too much.

“Yea, I know this might be a bit confusing, and It’s probably not easy to process all this, so take your time, and I’ll answer any questions you have.”

Great, because you had several.

——————-

𝑪𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓♦

——

Social Media Stalking but not Stalking was his forte.

The first thing he did was make pretty much every account he could on medias he knew you had. Like Tumblr.

He decided it would be way too freaky to just pop up out of nowhere, so as he was thinking and exploring, he took a few selfies and photoshoots here are there.

And WOW. They blew up. At first he thought it was the general math of Attractive Guy + Good Photos of him = Alot of Views. He had sorta kinda forgot other people knew about Twist until he noticed the flood of “Cater IRL” and “THE Cater Cosplay” comments. Which gave him an idea.

After the annoyance of all your Caters being lost in the code sauce, you messed around online until you accidentally pulled up a page with the greatest Cater Cosplay you had ever witnessed.

You had to do a double take when the follow button said “Follow Back”. You complied with the buttons wishes and followed them back.

After a while, you somehow ended up dming back and forth with him, and his strangely Cater coded texts. You also discovered that it apparently wasn’t a cosplay, and just his natural appearance was scarily similar to Caters..and his name was Cater, which was accidentally revealed by a Starbucks barista calling out after finishing making his drink while you were calling.

Part of you suspected that this could be the real Cater, with all the math adding up, and the other half of you called you a fucking idiot for that.

Little did you know the first one was exactly what Cater was hoping for.

With that, he managed to do some kinda social media stalking ( but not like, Rook Levels, DW) and found your general area based on area matching (TY Google Maps!) and nearly jumped for joy when he realized it was where he was too.

He subtly managed to sneak that in conversation, and set up a meetup between you two, a brunch and phone shopping. Weird Pick on the last one, but you decided not to judge.

The first thing he said when you arrived confused you, alot.

With a bright smile, he waved you over.

“Hey! Long Time no see!”

Ignoring the aggressive red flag in that statement with a simple “Maybe he meant since we called” as if you didn’t call him last night to plan this out, either way, you scooted in.

You two got so distracted chatting, at one point making up a game of fake gossiping the craziest things to see if anyone reacted, and for your own entertainment.

Because of that, your drink went warm, and as soon as you mentioned it, you got your answer to the “Where did my Caters go.” question.

Why? Because, as if this had happened before, he simply refroze it. Magically.

As you stared in pure awe and confusion, he grimaced upon the realization his cover was pretty much blown.

“Whoops…Lets just pretend that didn’t happen, and I’ll explain later, ‘Kay?”

You just had to pray nobody witnessed that, as Area 51 did definitely did not sound like Cay-Cays ideal Vacay.

——

𝑨𝒄𝒆♥

—

He thought it would be fucking HILARIOUS to prank you, as, unfortunately for you, he ended up in your house, only to find out you were asleep, which gave him the opportunity to PUA (Prank Upon Arrival)

For the next several hours of your waking life, Ace of Hearts playing cards of varying sizes would be infesting your house, or when you’d put something down and look away, there was either a card on it or it had been replaced by a card.

You were also robbed of leftovers you’d been saving, and a few snacks by this card demon.

After you left the house vacant (you fool), the Knave struck again, this time sneaking out and guessing your next move, heading off to a cafe because you needed caffeine after the card madness, until you had already ordered, and you had turned on Twist while waiting for your drink.

Quietly, he slid into the chair infront of you as you grumbled.

“He’s not on the homescreen either—Where the hell are all my Ace cards?”

Hehe, Infront of you. This is the best setup ever.

Leaning back on the chair, he couldn’t contain a grin as he faked obliviousness.

“I dunno. Maybe try looking around a lil’ more?”

Not paying much attention to who was talking to you in your moment of despair , you sighed, swiping back to the home screen.

“They’re not those kinds of cards.”

“Aren’t like, five of them card themed?”

“Four right now, since Ace has seemingly gone and fucked off to another dimension:”

“Yeaaa, about that. It was not as easy to do as you’re making it sound. Just saying.”

You looked up for a split second, then did a double take and nearly skyrocketed out of your chair, making indecipherable confusion noises while he laughed his ass off, totally soaking in the success of his perfect surprise you had unintentionally enabled.

While you stood frozen in shock, he simply grabbed your things, put them in your hand, S̶t̶o̶l̶e̶ grabbed your coffee, and whisked you out the door.

I pray for you, good luck dealing with him.

——

𝑫𝒆𝒖𝒄𝒆♠

——

Woke up in either your garage or kitchen, and was confused. Rightfully so.

Since he couldn’t really find you around, but at least recognized this as your house, he just waddled around more or less, fixing random things here and cleaning up there while trying to find clues to where you might be, or if he should just wait here.

He finally found a grocery list, which you had forgotten, and spent the next 10 minutes trying to find the nearest grocery store while unintentionally locking himself out of the house in the process, so made the genius decision to hope you were still at the grocery store and dashed over.

You’re doing great, dude.

Anywho, he got lucky, because in the middle of carrying off your shopping bags, your notification that your AP was full went off, and as you went to use it, you noticed a severe lack of Deuce on your homescreen.

This lead to sitting on a bench and getting distracted trying to figure out why the hell this glitch had only affected your Deuce cards, so you weren’t paying much attention when you heard a voice somewhat far off but close.

“Oh hey! There you are!”

Assuming it was for someone else, you continued trying to fix the “glitch”, then paused when you heard the voice from before right infront of you.

“Do you need help with carrying those bags?”

The words “I’m good, thanks.” died on your tongue when you looked up, only to be face to face with the guy you’d been suffering trying to figure out where he went for 20 minutes. Ingame. In a VIDEO GAME.

Internally, you practically short-circuited, after you panicked, he started panicking, and you both ended up in a weird confusion panic that had the energy of the spidermans pointing at eachother meme.

Great job! You have now acquired a German Shepard Golden Retriever mix in human form.

————

Bonus :

——

𝑪𝒉𝒆'𝒏𝒚𝒂⤵➟

——

Unlike most of them, he had absolutely zero trouble hopping into your world.

However, instead of revealing himself right away, he decided to be the ghost of good deeds and mischief. And a random black cat you’d suspiciously find on your window sill demanding pets or cuddles.

Luckily transforming, flying, invisibility, and the rest of his magic ability seemed to work just fine.

Sometimes, you’d randomly find things placed in unusual places, spoons on the ceiling, for example, the paintings or pictures sometimes randomly taking on very funny faces, teacups and plates floating around at 2am, leaving you to assume it was a sleepy hallucination.

Other times you’d be aggravatingly trying to fix something, look away for one moment, and not only was it fixed, it looked almost brand new. Or you’d open the fridge or pantry, and notice the lack of food, then open it again, and i’d be filled to the brim.

You never noticed anything too strange on Twist itself however until you got bored one day, and decided to replay Heartstabyls chapters, only to realize Che’nya was…completely missing.

Out of sheer curiosity, you checked his Pomfieore Chapter appearance. Nothing. Gone.

Trying to see if it was just the WIFI connection, you moved rooms, only to see a blink of purple in the corner of your eye.

Lounging in the air by the window, tail swaying lazily, he peeked over, then grinned his signature grin.

“Nya-ice to meet you~”

———

Yay! Thats all!!

Holy shit I can’t believe I wrote this, feel free to take me out (Date or Assassination I really don’t care)

Alright! I might do more but they might not be in dorm order, see ya!

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