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mononijikayu · 22 days

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dearest, darling, my universe — gojo satoru.

"He… he always knew what to say, didn’t he?" Megumi murmurs, a small, sad smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah." you reply, your voice thick with tears. "He always did." The weight of Satoru's absence presses heavily upon you, but the words on the paper offer a strange comfort, like a hand reaching out through the dark. You hold the letter tightly, almost as if you could draw him back with the force of your grip.

GENRE: post shinjiku showdown (spoilers for jjk chapter 268)

WARNING/S: domesticity, fluff, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

WORDS: 11k words.

NOTE: my brothers caught a cold so i caught it too because that's just how it sometimes goes when you're always together. i've been writing a bunch of stuff in the mean time, cause i'm strong enough at least. but i hope you enjoy this. it took me a while to write this, but it's finally done. also, listen to iu's song love wins all while reading this. love you all!!!

masterlist

u s and t h e m

if you want to, tip! <3

IT’S BEEN A WHILE, BUT THINGS HAVE CHANGED. The world feels quiet now, almost unnaturally so, as if it is holding its breath, waiting to see what comes next. The grounds are empty, unlike how they used to be. The sky is heavy and dulled gray and the wind carries a strange stillness that presses against your skin.

Everything seems suspended, caught in a moment that refuses to pass, a calm that feels more like a warning than a relief. It’s the kind of quiet that settles in after a storm — not the peace that follows resolution, but the heavy, fragile silence that comes when everything has been ripped apart, and nothing has been put back together.

Your gaze searches for someone as you look towards the horizon. It takes you a while, but you smile when you find that figure again. You sighed, he’s been there awhile. But you don't blame him. You think that Fushiguro Megumi feels like he’d find peace, if he sits there to wonder what had been before. You find him sitting on the bench your husband had loved to sit on years ago, his back turned to you. He is still, his head lowered, shoulders slumped, and you can see the way his body trembles with each ragged breath.

He’s still recovering, as most are after the battle with Sukuna. But for Megumi, the wounds are deeper, more insidious. After being imprisoned by Sukuna, after having his body and mind twisted and torn apart from the inside out, he’s struggling to find his footing again. His physical scars may heal with time, but the ones etched into his soul are a different story.

You approach slowly, hesitant to break the fragile stillness that surrounds him. He doesn’t turn to look at you, but you know he’s aware of your presence. You can see it in the way his shoulders tense, the slight shift of his head as if he’s listening, waiting. You move closer until you’re standing beside him, close enough to see the bandaged bruises that still darken his skin, the way his hands are clenched tightly in his lap, knuckles white with the effort of holding himself together.

“Megumi.” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper, careful not to startle him.

He doesn’t respond at first, his gaze fixed on some point in the distance, his blue green eyes shadowed and hollow. You can’t tell if he’s looking at the ruins or something beyond them, something only he can see. You wait, giving him the time he needs, the space to decide whether he wants to speak or remain silent.

Finally, he lets out a breath, slow and heavy, his shoulders sagging further. “I couldn’t sleep.” he murmurs, so quietly you almost miss it. “I could still feel it. Like he’s still here… in my head… in my body. And then my dreams…. My hands and Gojo–sensei’s eyes….”

The words hang in the air, raw and unsteady, as if they barely have the strength to escape his lips. You hear the tremor in his voice, the way it quivers with each syllable. It’s a sound you haven’t heard from him before, a vulnerability that he rarely shows, and it cuts through you like a knife. Your heart aches at the sound of his voice, so broken and raw, a far cry from the stoic, determined young man you’ve known for so long.

You can see it in the way his eyes stare ahead, unfocused, as if he’s searching for something he can’t quite grasp. The way his hands tremble slightly, even though they’re clenched tightly on his knees. He sounds lost, like he’s still fighting a battle that has no end, still trying to claw his way out of a darkness that clings to him like a second skin. His whole body seems to sag under the weight of it, the invisible chains that bind him to a past he can’t escape.

“I see.” you whisper, your voice gentle, but firm. You reach out, hesitantly, resting your hand on his arm, feeling the tension that coils beneath his skin, the way his muscles are taut and ready to snap. “I’m sorry for that, Megumi.”

He flinches at your touch, just a little, his gaze flicking to yours for a brief second before darting away again. You can see the conflict in his eyes, the way he’s torn between wanting to believe you and the insidious doubt that’s been planted deep inside him. There’s a flicker of shame, of fear, as if he’s afraid of admitting just how much he’s struggling, how much of himself he feels he’s lost.

“It’s going to take some time for all of this to go and change.” he finally admits, his voice low, almost inaudible. “It feels like… like he’s still there, lurking in the corners of my mind, waiting for a chance to come back. And then Gojo–sensei’s voice echoes sometimes, whispering… and Sukuna just….It’s like he’s a part of me now, and I don’t know how to make him leave.”

His words are laced with a quiet desperation, a plea for some kind of reassurance that you’re not sure you can give. How do you tell someone that the ghost in their mind will eventually fade when you know that kind of pain never truly leaves? How do you promise a tomorrow free of shadows when the past clings so fiercely to the present?

You tighten your grip on his arm, just a little, enough to ground him, to let him know you’re here. “He won’t win. Satoru knew that too.” you say, your voice is firmer now, more certain. “Not while you’re still fighting. And I know you, Megumi. You’ve fought through worse. You’re stronger than you think, even when you feel like you’re falling apart.”

His eyes meet yours again, and you can see the doubt there, the fear. But beneath it, there’s a spark of something else, something fragile and faint, but alive — hope, maybe. A glimmer of belief that he can pull through this, that he can find himself again. His lips part, but he seems to hesitate, as if afraid of saying something he can’t take back.

“I’m tired.” he confesses, and it feels like the weight of the world is in those two words. “I’m so tired of fighting. I don’t know how much more I can take.”

You swallow hard, feeling the sting of tears in your eyes, but you blink them back. “I know." you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “I know you are. And it’s okay to feel that way. It’s okay to be tired, to need a break. But you don’t have to do this alone. I’m here, Megumi. I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

He exhales, a shaky breath that trembles with all the emotions he’s been holding in, and for a moment, he looks like he might break, like the walls he’s built around himself might finally come crashing down. His shoulders slump further, and he leans forward, just a fraction, as if testing the waters, as if trying to decide if it’s safe to fall.

“I….” he starts, his voice breaking, “I keep thinking about him… and about everyone we lost. And I wonder if it’s even worth it, to keep going… if I’m even worth it. I…I helped cause all this pain.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you feel your breath hitch in your throat. You tighten your grip on his arm, leaning closer, your heart breaking for him, for everything he’s endured, for everything he’s still enduring.

“Megumi.” you say, your voice thick with emotion. “You are worth it. You’re worth every fight, every tear, every moment of pain. You’re worth it because you’re here, and you’re trying, and you haven’t given up. And that… that’s everything.”

He looks at you, his eyes searching, as if trying to find the truth in your words, as if he wants to believe you but doesn’t know how. His lips tremble, and for a moment, he seems like he might speak, might say something that could change everything.

But then he just closes his eyes, a tear slipping down his cheek, and he lets out a breath, long and shuddering. “I don’t know.” he whispers, but he doesn’t pull away from your touch. He stays there, his body tense but close, and you know that for now, that’s enough.

You feel the slight tremor in his shoulders, the way he fights to keep himself together, and you wonder how many times he’s had to do this — how many times he’s been forced to stand tall when everything inside him was falling apart. You can see the exhaustion etched in the lines of his face, the dark circles beneath his eyes. He’s so young, but he looks older now, like the weight of the world has been pressing down on him for too long.

You don’t say anything, just keep your hand on his arm, feeling the faint, steady beat of his pulse beneath your fingertips. You know that words won’t fix this, won’t make the shadows in his eyes disappear. But you want him to know he’s not alone, that he doesn’t have to carry this burden by himself.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, he leans into you, just a little, his head bowing as if the strength he’s been holding onto is slipping away. You don’t move, don’t flinch, just let him take whatever he needs from you, let him find some solace in the contact, in the warmth of another human being who understands, who has lost as much as he has.

“I’m scared.” he admits, his voice so soft you almost miss it, his breath warm against your skin. “I’m scared that I’ll never be… me again. That I’ll never be whole. That I’ll always feel… like this.”

Your heart aches at the confession, at the way his voice breaks, the way his words tremble with an uncertainty that shakes you to your core. You feel a tear slip down your own cheek, and you quickly brush it away, not wanting him to see, not wanting to add to his pain.

“It’s okay to be scared.” you whisper back, your voice rough with emotion. “I’m scared too, Megumi. Every day. But you don’t have to do this alone. You have people who care about you, who love you. And we’ll get through this… somehow. Together.”

He nods, just barely, and you can feel the tiniest bit of tension ease from his frame, as if your words have given him something to hold onto, even if just for a moment. His tired eyes remain closed, and he takes another deep breath, his lips pressing into a thin line, his brows furrowing like he’s trying to muster some strength from within.

“I miss him.” he confesses, almost like he’s ashamed to say it out loud. “I miss Gojo–sensei. Tsumiki, I…I still can’t…”

Silence engulfs you, heavy and unrelenting, settling like a thick fog between you and Megumi. He opens his eyes. You couldn’t help but see the light of devastation in his eyes, a light that flickers and fades like a dying star. It’s a look you’ve seen before, a look you’ve felt etched into your own reflection every time you’ve caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. The eyes that have stared back at you have been hollowed out, drained of their usual spark, carrying the same weight that now rests in Megumi’s.

You see it in the way he looks down, his gaze fixed on some invisible point on the ground, as if he’s afraid that meeting your eyes might shatter whatever fragile composure he’s managed to hold onto. The devastation is so clear in his expression, so raw and exposed, like an open wound that hasn’t begun to heal.

But you share the same look, you think. Because you’ve both lost the dearest people in your lives. The ones who held you together, who gave you strength when you needed it most. You knew that too well — the pain, the grief that seems to expand with every breath you take, filling the space around you, making it harder and harder to breathe. Tsumiki, taken from him so suddenly, so cruelly. And now Satoru, your husband, the man who was everything — your light, your laughter, your reason to keep fighting even when the world felt like it was falling apart.

How much more can you both bear?

It feels like there’s a weight pressing down on your chest, an invisible force squeezing the air out of your lungs. Your heart aches with a pain that’s deep and unyielding, a pain that you’ve grown accustomed to, but that never seems too dull. It’s the kind of pain that lingers, that finds its way into every corner of your being, that refuses to be ignored no matter how hard you try.

You think of Satoru — his smile, his ridiculous jokes, the way he could light up a room just by being in it. You think of Tsumiki — her quiet strength, her gentle kindness, the way she could make Megumi laugh even when he didn’t want to. You think of how much they meant to you, to both of you, and you wonder how you’re supposed to go on without them. How do you keep moving forward when the ground beneath you has been ripped away? How do you find the strength to keep fighting when the people who gave you that strength are gone?

You feel a tear slip down your cheek, hot and heavy, and you quickly brush it away. You don’t want Megumi to see, don’t want him to think that you’re breaking, that you’re crumbling under the weight of your own grief. But maybe he already knows. Maybe he can see it in the way your hands tremble, in the way your shoulders sag just a little, in the way your breath catches in your throat like you’re fighting to keep from sobbing.

Megumi finally looks up, and when his eyes meet yours, you see the reflection of your own sorrow staring back at you. His eyes are tired, so very tired, like he hasn’t slept in days, weeks even. There’s a hollowness in them, a void where there used to be determination and fire. He looks older than he is, worn down by the battles he fought, by the losses he’s endured. And you wonder how much more he can take, how much more you can ask of him when he’s already given so much.

“I’m… I’m not sure how to do this.” he admits, his voice barely more than a whisper, his words trembling on the edge of breaking. “I don’t know how to… keep going.”

Your heart tightens, and you feel a fresh wave of grief wash over you, cold and sharp like a blade. You want to tell him that it will get easier, that the pain will fade, but you know it’s not true. You know that some losses never heal, that some wounds never close. All you can do is reach out and take his hand in yours, squeezing it gently, letting him know that you’re here, that you’re not going anywhere.

“I don’t know how either.” you whisper back, your voice thick with emotion. “But we have to try… for them. For ourselves.”

He nods, but it’s a slow, uncertain nod, like he’s still not sure if he believes you, if he believes in anything anymore. His grip tightens around your hand, almost desperate, like he’s holding on for dear life. And maybe he is. Maybe you both are, trying to keep each other afloat in a sea of loss and uncertainty, trying to find something solid to cling to when everything else has been swept away.

For a long moment, you stand there in silence, feeling the weight of everything you’ve lost, everything you’re still losing. And you realize that there’s no easy answer, no simple path forward. There’s only this — the two of you, standing together in the midst of all the broken pieces, trying to make sense of a world that no longer feels whole. And maybe that’s enough. For now, maybe that’s enough.

"I… I keep thinking he’ll walk through that door too, you know?" you finally manage to say, your voice catching on the last word. "With that grin of his, like it's all been a bad dream."

Megumi’s gaze drops to the ground. “Me too.” he whispers. "I keep hearing his voice, like he's about to make another joke… or ruffle my hair." His hands curl into fists, and he swallows hard. "I don’t know if I want to laugh or scream."

You reach out, hesitating for a moment before placing a hand on his arm. "It feels wrong, doesn't it? For him to be gone."

He nods, his shoulders slumping further. "I hated how he made everything a joke, how he never took things seriously… but I’d give anything to hear him laugh again." His voice cracks, and you see the tears he's been holding back start to gather in his eyes.

Your own tears brim over, and you don’t bother wiping them away. "I don’t know what to do." you admit. "I feel lost without him. I thought we’d have more time… that we could…"

"To live together?" Megumi finishes for you, and you nod, grateful that he understands.

For a moment, you both stand there in your shared grief, the silence punctuated by the distant sounds of the wind moving through the ruins. Finally, Megumi reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a folded piece of paper, worn and slightly crumpled, as if it’s been handled many times. You look at him and then to the paper. You could feel the air knocked from your lungs.

"He… he left this for you." he says, handing it over. “Ieiri–san gave this to me. He told Ieiri–san to give it to you.....if something happened, you’d be the one to need it most.”

You take the letter with trembling hands, the weight of it almost too much to bear. For a moment, you can’t bring yourself to open it, terrified of what it might say, of the finality it represents. But then you unfold it, the familiar scrawl of his handwriting dancing across the page, and his little drawing of himself on the side. You don’t know whether you were going to laugh or cry. Because, almost immediately, you can almost hear his voice speaking the words.

𝑯𝒆𝒚, 𝒚𝒐𝒖! 𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕, 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒎𝒚 𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆,

𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒃𝒚𝒆𝒔, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒍𝒆𝒕’𝒔 𝒃𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒕, 𝑰 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔. 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖’𝒓𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒕, 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏’𝒕 𝒈𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝑰 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒅. 𝑰 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒚𝒐𝒖’𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒘𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝑰 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒊𝒕’𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆 𝒐𝒌𝒂𝒚. 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒇 𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏’𝒕… 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑰 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒎𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒘.

𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌, 𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒗𝒆. 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒆𝒓, 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒆𝒓… 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒆. 𝒀𝒐𝒖, 𝑴𝒆𝒈𝒖𝒎𝒊, 𝑻𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒊𝒌𝒊 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊 — 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒚. 𝑩𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒍𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆. 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒏𝒐𝒘, 𝑰 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐 𝒌𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒎𝒆, 𝒐𝒌𝒂𝒚?

𝑻𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝑴𝒆𝒈𝒖𝒎𝒊. 𝑻𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊. 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒌𝒊𝒅𝒔, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚’𝒍𝒍 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖. 𝑬𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝑴𝒆𝒈𝒖𝒎𝒊, 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒊𝒇 𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔𝒏’𝒕 𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒊𝒕. 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓, 𝑰’𝒎 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔. 𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕… 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒖𝒑 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒎𝒆, 𝒐𝒌𝒂𝒚?

𝑻𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉 𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊, 𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒘𝒏, 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒔. 𝑷𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒔, 𝒐𝒌𝒂𝒚? 𝑰’𝒍𝒍 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖. 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖. 𝑰 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖. 𝑴𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝑰 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒚.

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓, 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 — 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒆𝒙𝒕, 𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒖.

The tears spill over again, as they have these past few weeks and you clutch the letter to your chest, your heart aching with a mix of love and pain. You look over at Megumi, who’s watching you with a mix of understanding and his own quiet grief. He didn’t say a word for a while. He just let you cry, to let out the grief that you had been holding in for so long.

"He… he always knew what to say, didn’t he?" Megumi murmurs, a small, sad smile tugging at his lips.

"Yeah." you reply, your voice thick with tears. "He always did."

The weight of Satoru's absence presses heavily upon you, but the words on the paper offer a strange comfort, like a hand reaching out through the dark. You hold the letter tightly, almost as if you could draw him back with the force of your grip.

Megumi shifts beside you, his gaze distant. You sense he’s been wrestling with his own demons, carrying a grief he doesn’t quite know how to articulate. You remember the nights Satoru would tease him, ruffle his hair, and declare with exaggerated fondness that he was the son he never had. And you remember how Megumi would roll his eyes, always with that begrudging smile, the one that said he was secretly happy to have someone who cared so much.

"I don’t know what to do." you confess, your voice barely a whisper. "I don’t even know where to begin."

Megumi looks at you, his eyes softening in understanding. "Neither do I." he admits. "But… I think Gojo–sensei would want us to keep going. He’d hate seeing us like this, stuck in the past."

You nod, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. "He was always moving forward, wasn’t he? Never stopping, not even for a second."

Megumi’s lips twitch into a faint smile. "Yeah, always dragging everyone else along for the ride." He hesitates, and then adds, "But… it wasn’t just him. You kept him grounded. You gave him a reason to slow down, even if just a little."

Your breath catches in your throat. You never thought of it that way — always felt like you were the one chasing after him, trying to keep up with his boundless energy and insatiable curiosity. But maybe, in your own way, you had been his anchor.

Megumi takes a step closer, his hand hovering near your shoulder, as if unsure whether to reach out. "He always talked about you, a lot. Even when you weren't around." he says softly. "Not in the way you'd expect. He’d get this look in his eyes, like… like he couldn’t believe he was lucky enough to have you."

You nod, finding some solace in his words. The two of you stand there for a moment longer, letting the silence settle around you, a cocoon of shared understanding. Then, with a deep breath, you fold Satoru’s letter carefully, as if it were the most fragile thing in the world, and tuck it into your pocket.

“I know.” you say gently, a faint smile on your lips. “I was the luckiest person alive too. To have loved him. To have been with him. To…To have a life with him.”

He turns his head slightly, just enough to glance at you out of the corner of his eye. There’s a flicker of something there — a mix of pain and doubt, hope and fear. He looks exhausted, like every breath, every moment, is a battle in itself. His hands unclench slowly, his fingers twitching like he doesn’t quite know what to do with them.

He closes his eyes for a moment, a pained expression crossing his face. “I don’t know if I can ever be what I was.” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

"That's okay." You whisper back. "You don't need to be whole to be yourself, Megumi. It's...enough. Being like this, for now."

He looks at you then, really looks at you, and you see the tears gathering in his eyes, threatening to spill over. He’s still so young, you think, still so young to have been through so much, to carry so many burdens on his shoulders. You didn’t want this from him. You don’t want him to live with this for the rest of his life.

“Do you think it’ll ever stop hurting?” he asks, his voice so soft it’s almost a plea.

You pause, considering your words carefully. “I don’t know.” you admit honestly. “I think… I think it might always hurt a little. But I also think that one day, the pain won’t be the first thing you feel. One day, you’ll wake up, and it’ll be a little easier to breathe. And then another day, and another… and eventually, you’ll find a way to live with it. To carry it without letting it crush you.”

He nods slowly, as if trying to absorb your words, to find some semblance of comfort in them. “I hope so.” he says quietly. “I really hope so.”

As you purse your lips into a tight line, Fushiguro Megumi turns his head slightly, just enough for you to catch a glimpse of the strain in his eyes. They’re the same eyes you’ve known for years, dark and brooding, yet now they seem dimmed by a weight too heavy for any young man to bear. His expression is weary, etched with the lines of battles fought not just against enemies but against the relentless tide of grief and responsibility that threatens to swallow him whole.

You pause, taking in the sight of him. Megumi, who has always seemed so strong, so unyielding, now stands with his shoulders hunched, his frame pulled inward like a fragile fortress protecting a fragile heart. His hands, usually so sure and steady, are clenched tightly at his sides, fingers twitching with a nervous energy.

The boy who faced curses without flinching now looks lost, as if he’s unsure of where to place his feet or how to hold himself together. You notice how his posture has shrunk into itself, his form smaller, more fragile than you remember. For a fleeting moment, he is not the stoic young man who bears the weight of the Zen’in name, but the boy you raised, the one who used to look up at you with a defiance softened by hope.

Memories rush in, unbidden and raw. You remember the first time you took his hand, how tiny it seemed in yours, and the way he stiffened, wary of your touch. It took time for him to trust you, to accept the safety you offered in a world that had been anything but kind. He was so guarded, so determined to prove that he didn’t need anyone, but you had seen through the cracks in his armor, glimpsed the boy beneath who craved comfort and understanding.

Now, as you stand before him, you see that boy again. The boy who hid his hurt behind curt words and narrowed eyes, who watched the world with suspicion, waiting for it to turn on him. You see the boy who wanted to be strong, not just for himself but for those he cared about, who believed that if he could shoulder enough pain, he might somehow spare others from it. That same boy stands before you now, but the weight he carries has only grown heavier, pressing down on his shoulders until they sag with exhaustion.

You move closer, slowly, careful not to startle him. Megumi’s gaze flickers to you, and for a moment, something in his eyes softens, just a fraction. He looks at you as if he wants to say something, but the words catch in his throat, stuck behind the fear of vulnerability. You can see the battle waging within him — the need to be strong, to keep it all together, and the desperate longing to let someone in, to share the burden that’s breaking him apart.

“I…I’m sorry for putting you through what I did.” he whispers, so quietly you almost miss it. His voice is thick, strained with the weight of everything left unsaid.

It was hard seeing Megumi this way, you think. If anything, you still weren’t prepared to seek him out. You felt ashamed that you couldn’t do much for him. As much as you were also worried that he’d put himself at your feet, kneeling and in tears. Now your worst fear came to pass, that he would be apologizing to you for something that was not his fault. And so, you took that time — a long time, to just be alone and grieve. To let your husband’s soul rest in peace.

So your heart aches at his confession, and you step closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, drawing him into an embrace. At first, he resists, his body stiff and unyielding, but you hold firm, refusing to let go. Slowly, he relents, and he collapses against you, his head resting against your shoulder. His hands clutch at the fabric of your clothes, and you feel the tremble in his fingers, the suppressed sobs caught in his chest.

“It’s okay, Megumi.” you murmur, stroking his back in soothing circles. “You silly boy. Why are you apologizing for things that aren’t your fault, hm?”

His shoulders shake, and you feel the tears that he’s fought so hard to hold back finally spill over. He buries his face in your shoulder, his body wracked with silent sobs, each one tearing at your heart. You hold him tighter, as if you could somehow shield him from the pain, as if you could gather all the shattered pieces of him and put them back together.

He cries quietly, like he doesn’t want to be heard, like he’s afraid of what his grief might sound like if he lets it out. You just hold him, letting him take the time he needs, giving him the space to be the child you know he still is, beneath all that strength and stubbornness.

And for that moment, you are back in time, comforting a boy who tried so hard to be brave, to stand tall in a world that felt too big and too cruel. You feel the years slip away, and you whisper to him like you did then, telling him it’s okay, that he’s safe, that he’s loved.

Slowly, the tremors in his body begin to ease, and he pulls back slightly, just enough to look up at you. His eyes are red, and there’s a vulnerability there that you haven’t seen in years. “I’m sorry, Gen–san.” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper. “I….It must be harder on you.”

You shake your head, cupping his cheek with one hand. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.” you say firmly. “You’ve been so strong, Megumi. But you don’t have to be strong all the time.”

He nods, his eyes closing for a moment as he takes a shaky breath. “I just… I miss him, Gen–san.” he admits, his voice breaking. “I miss them. Tsumiki…..I…I miss them both. And it’s…It’s my fault. If I had…”

“I know you do.” you whisper back. “I miss them too. And it’s okay to feel that way. But it was never your fault. You understand? This is not your cross to bear, hm?”

He looked at you, as though he was still unsure. But he nods again, and this time, when he opens his eyes, there’s a spark of something new there, a flicker of resolve. “Thank you.” he murmurs. “For… for being here.”

You smile softly, brushing his hair back from his face. “Always.” you promise. “I’ll always be here for you, Megumi.”

And as he leans into your touch, you realize that maybe, just maybe, he’s beginning to understand that he doesn’t have to face the world alone. That he has a family, even in the darkest of times, and that you’ll always be there to catch him when he falls. When he finally calms down, you look at him with a tender gaze. You rub the small of his back and coo towards him. You tell him over and over again that it’s going to be okay.

THINGS HAVE CHANGED IN THESE MANY YEARS. But all the same, you were still just trying to get by without your husband. Just as you have done in the past fourteen years. Sometimes you can’t believe that it has been that long. Fourteen long years without his voice, his laughter, his warmth beside you in the dark of the night. Fourteen years of waking up every morning and remembering all over again that he’s gone.

Some days, it feels like he was just here, like you can still hear his footsteps in the hallway, the sound of his voice calling your name, teasing you with that easy smile that could always make your heart skip a beat. Other days, it feels like a lifetime has passed, like his memory is slipping further away with each breath you take, each step you take forward.

And sometimes, all you have to do is look at the world around you and see how much it has changed, even without Satoru. The world didn’t stop for his absence — it kept moving, kept spinning, kept evolving. The streets are filled with new faces, new buildings rise where old ones once stood. The skyline of the city looks different, the energy of the people has shifted, and even the quiet corners where you used to find solace now feel foreign and unfamiliar.

You think about the way he would have laughed at the way the world has moved on without him, how he would have been amused at the thought of being left behind by time itself. “Can’t keep up with me, huh?” he would’ve jokes, that mischievous grin spreading across his face, his bright eyes twinkling with that endless, boundless spirit of his.

But he isn’t here to see it — he isn’t here to laugh or joke or comment on the little changes that make up this new reality. And that’s what hurts the most, you think. The small moments that go unnoticed, the daily routines that feel emptier without him, the tiny, insignificant details that made life with him so full.

You were certain that today was one of those days — a day where the past and present seemed to blur, where the weight of what came before felt particularly heavy. The morning sun filters through the kitchen window, casting a soft glow across the table. You watch as the young clan leader, Gojo Satoshi, sits across from you, his posture a mix of youthful excitement and a hint of nervousness that he tries to hide. His eighteenth birthday has finally arrived — a day you’ve both been anticipating with a blend of joy and bittersweetness.

For years, you’ve marked this date on the calendar, circled it with a smiley face as Satoru used to do. You remember the way he’d talk about this day like it was a grand milestone, his eyes lighting up with that familiar spark as he imagined all the things Satoshi would accomplish. And now, here it is — the day that seemed so far away, so impossible to reach, yet somehow arrived faster than you ever thought it would.

Your son had taken some time off from his responsibilities, from the pressures of the Gojo clan, just to be here with you. He’d insisted on it, saying he didn’t want to spend this day anywhere else. There’s a maturity in him that catches you off guard sometimes, a quiet strength that reminds you so much of Satoru, and yet he’s entirely his own person, shaped by all the experiences and lessons that life has thrown at him.

At times, you catch yourself taking a moment to look at him. He was the spitting image of his father. Every bit of him was Satoru. From the way his eyes gazed at you, to the way he laughs. Everything was him. You think if your husband would be here now, it would have been hard to tell them apart. But, he was all you have of Satoru. And you were still grateful for it, even if it makes you cry sometimes.

“Mom.” he begins, and there’s a softness in his voice, a vulnerability that he doesn’t show often. “I… I’m glad I could be here today. I know it’s… a lot. For both of us.”

You smile, a warm, gentle smile that you hope hides the ache in your chest. “I’m glad too, Satoshi. I’ve been waiting for this day. Your father would have wanted it to be special.”

He nods, a small smile tugging at his lips, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes — a shadow of the loss you both carry, the empty space that Satoru left behind. You know this day is as much about celebrating as it is about remembering, about honoring the promise that Satoru made to him, to all of you.

And that’s why you’re here, sitting at the kitchen table, a letter in your hand — a letter you’ve kept safe for years, one with Satoru’s handwriting on the envelope, his familiar scrawl that brings a sting of tears to your eyes. The letter he wrote for Satoshi to open on his eighteenth birthday, a letter he wrote knowing he might not be here to read it himself.

You hold it out to him, your fingers trembling slightly, and Satoshi’s eyes widen. He recognizes it immediately, having seen it once before when he was a child, when you tucked it away with a promise that it was for another day, a day when he was older, stronger.

“Is this…?” he asks, his voice trailing off, almost afraid to finish the question.

You nod, swallowing back the lump in your throat. “It’s from your father.” you say softly. “Megumi found it cleaning your father's office. It seems....your father wanted you to have something special when you're older."

For a moment, Satoshi just stares at the envelope, his fingers brushing over the edges, tracing the curve of his father’s handwriting. You can see the emotions flicker across his face — curiosity, sadness, a deep, yearning love. He looks up at you, and there’s a silent question in his eyes, one that asks if you’re okay, if you’re ready for this.

You give him a small nod, even though your heart feels like it might break all over again. “Go on.” you encourage. “Open it.”

With a deep breath, Satoshi carefully tears open the envelope, his hands steady despite the tremor you know he must feel. He pulls out the folded paper inside, and as he begins to read, you watch his face, the way his expression changes, softens, as he takes in the words that his father left for him.

There’s a chuckle, soft and low, that escapes his lips, and for a brief moment, it’s like Gojo Satoru is in the room with you both, his presence lingering in the air, his laughter echoing in the corners. Satoshi’s shoulders shake with silent laughter, and he shakes his head, murmuring, “Of course he’d say that…” under his breath.

You can’t help but smile, a tear slipping down your cheek as you remember Satoru’s sense of humor, his way of making light of even the heaviest moments. You wonder what he wrote, what silly remark he must have made, what words he left behind to make his son laugh on this day.

But then, the laughter fades, replaced by a softer look, a look of longing. Satoshi’s eyes grow misty, and his smile wavers, his breath hitching in his throat. His hands clutch the letter a little tighter, his fingers pressing into the paper like he’s holding onto a lifeline.

“I miss him, a lot.” he whispers, his voice breaking, and in that moment, he looks like the little boy he used to be, the one who would climb into your lap and ask when his father was coming home. “I miss him so much.”

Your heart breaks all over again, and you reach across the table, pulling him into your arms. He doesn’t resist, burying his face in your shoulder, and you feel his tears soak through your shirt, hot and heavy. You hold him close, your hand running through his hair, whispering soothing words even as your own tears fall.

“I know, Satoshi.” you whisper back, your voice thick with emotion. “I miss him too… every day.”

He clings to you, his body shaking with quiet sobs, and you let him cry, let him mourn, let him feel all the things he needs to feel. You know that this pain will never truly go away, that there will always be a part of both of you that aches for the man who isn’t here, for the father and husband who left too soon.

But in this moment, you also feel a deep, abiding love — a love that stretches across time and space, that binds you together even in the face of loss. You know that Satoru is with you, in every laugh, in every tear, in every beat of your hearts. And as you hold your son, feeling the strength of his embrace, the warmth of his love, you know that Satoru’s spirit lives on, in him, in you, in all the days to come.

You feel Satoshi’s grip tighten around you, his shoulders still trembling with the force of his emotions. You hold him closer, pressing your cheek against the top of his head, breathing in the scent of him, so familiar and comforting. He’s grown so much, become a young man with so much of his father’s spirit, and yet so much of his own unique strength.

“He would’ve been so proud of you, little dawn.” you whisper into his hair, feeling your voice catch in your throat. “Every day, he would’ve been so proud. I know he is… wherever he is.”

Satoshi pulls back just enough to look up at you, his eyes red-rimmed and wet with tears, but there’s a light in them — a spark of resilience, of determination, of love. “I hope so, mom.” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “I hope I’m making him proud… and you, too.”

You smile, cupping his face in your hands, brushing your thumbs over his damp cheeks. “You are, Satoshi. You’re everything he could have hoped for… everything I could have hoped for.”

He leans into your touch, closing his eyes, and you can see the way his expression softens, some of the tension easing from his features. “I just… I wish he were here,” he admits, his voice a broken whisper. “I wish he could see this… see me now.”

You nod, swallowing back your own tears, feeling the ache in your chest grow sharper, deeper. “Me too.” you confess. “Every day, I wish for that. But he’s still with us, Satoshi. In you, in me, in all the love he left behind. And as long as we remember him, he’ll never truly be gone.”

Satoshi nods slowly, taking in your words, letting them settle in the quiet space between you. You know it’s not enough to fill the emptiness, to ease the pain that sits heavy in both of your hearts, but it’s something — a small comfort, a small truth that you can hold on to.

“Happy birthday, Satoshi.” You greeted him with a small smile on your face. “You and your papa. Happy birthday.”

“Thank you, mom.”

And so, you sit together in the soft morning light, holding onto each other, holding onto the memory of the man you both loved so dearly, trying to find your way in a world that has changed so much without him. You know it won’t be easy — it never has been — but you also know that you have each other, that you have the love he left behind, and maybe, for now, that’s enough to keep moving forward.

Just as you have for the past fourteen years.

Just as you will for the years to come.

YOU DECIDED TO VISIT THAT AFTERNOON. The pond is quiet, save for the gentle rustle of leaves in the wind, the soft murmurs of the water lapping against its edges. You stand at the edge, looking out at the calm surface, watching as the light dances across the ripples. The air is thick with the scent of earth and pine, and there’s a serenity here that you haven’t felt in a long time — a stillness that settles into your bones, grounding you in the moment.

This was land that Satoru bought a long time ago, back when the world was still full of possibility, when dreams felt tangible and within reach. You remember the day he brought you here for the first time, the way his eyes sparkled with excitement as he talked about the future, about all the things he wanted to build, all the memories he hoped to create.

He’d stood right where you’re standing now, his hands on his hips, looking out at the same pond with a boyish grin on his face. “This is it.” he’d said, his voice full of conviction. “This is where I’d be glad to build a family… a place to call home when everything’s said and done.”

You could hear the hope in his words, the unspoken promise of a life filled with love and laughter. He had dreams of children playing by the water’s edge, of long summer evenings spent under the stars, of a sanctuary away from the battles, away from the chaos.

And you had made that happen. For a while, you had built that family, that life, just as he’d wanted. You shared quiet mornings and loud, joyous evenings. You laughed, you loved, you lived. The memories still linger in every corner of this place, like echoes of a time that now feels so distant, so far away.

This is the place where you buried your husband — here, by the pond where he once stood dreaming of the future. It felt right, felt like honoring that dream of his, of giving him the home he’d always wanted, even in death. You wanted him to be where he’d always hoped to be, to rest in the place he had chosen for his family, his sanctuary. So you laid him to rest here, in the earth he once walked upon, beneath the trees that whisper his name in the wind.

But you chose this spot for a reason. So that he’ll always be home, so that he’ll never be far from the place he loved most. You wanted him to have peace, to feel the tranquility of the land he cherished so much. And maybe, in some way, you wanted him close, wanted to be able to visit, to sit by his side and feel his presence, even if it’s just in the whispers of the wind or the quiet ripple of the pond.

You sit back, closing your eyes, breathing in the fresh air, and you imagine his laughter, his voice, his hand in yours. You can almost hear him now, teasing you about being sentimental, about spending so much time talking to a patch of earth. But you know he’d understand. He always understood you, even when you didn’t understand yourself.

You look out over the pond, the way the water reflects the sky, and you wonder what he would think of the world now, of all the things that have changed. You wonder if he’d still choose this place, if he’d still find it as beautiful as he once did. You like to think he would, that he’d still smile and say, “Yeah, this is home.”

One day, you think. One day, maybe you’ll be here too, resting beside him, sharing this place forever. Maybe one day, you’ll find your way back to him, and you’ll get to hear his voice again, feel his arms around you, and you’ll be whole again. Until then, you’ll keep coming back, keep whispering to the wind, keep holding onto the memories that this place holds.

And as the sun dips lower in the sky, casting long shadows over the water, you feel a sense of peace settle over you. Because here, in this quiet place, he is still with you. Here, by the pond he loved so much, he is still home.

You’ve walked this path more times than you can count, but today feels different. The air is heavy, thick with the weight of unspoken words and memories that cling to you like shadows. It has been fourteen years now, and in a few days, it will be official. But it was your husband’s birthday today too, and you think that maybe that’s why. Satoshi is eighteen and your husband isn’t here to see it.

When you reach their graves, you pause, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. The air is cool, the wind gentle against your skin, but there is a weight in your chest that feels heavier than any burden you’ve ever carried.

Two simple stones lie before you, side by side, as if they were always meant to be together — Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru. Their names etched in the granite are stark against the soft earth, the bold characters cutting through the silence of the space around you. The sight is almost too real, too final, as if the reality of their absence is etched into the stone itself.

It was what Satoru wanted, you remember. He had told you that a long time ago, in a quiet moment, his voice uncharacteristically soft, almost pleading. “Promise me, if anything ever happens… that Suguru will be laid to rest too. That he’ll have peace.”

You’d nodded then, not thinking much of it, not wanting to entertain the thought of losing him. But now, standing here, you understand why. You understand why it mattered to him, why it was so important that they be reunited in the end.

They were best friends once — closer than brothers, bound by a shared past, by dreams of changing the world together. Even when their paths diverged, even when they became enemies in the eyes of the world, there was always something unbreakable between them, something that tied them together beyond the choices they made, beyond the mistakes and the betrayals. They were always two halves of a whole, two sides of a coin that could never be separated.

And now, in death, they are together again. You think it fitting, think it poetic in a way that only Satoru could have imagined. They both found their peace here, in this quiet place, far from the chaos and conflict that shaped their lives. And maybe, just maybe, they have found each other again, wherever they are.

You kneel down, your knees pressing into the soft grass, feeling the dampness seep through your clothes, grounding you, connecting you to the earth, to this place where they both now rest. You reach out with trembling fingers, tracing the characters of their names etched into the cold granite. The letters feel rough under your fingertips, each line a reminder of what was lost, of the lives that were lived with so much intensity, so much passion, so much pain.

“Satoru.” you whisper, your voice catching in your throat. It feels strange to say his name out loud, to speak to him as if he could still hear you. But you hope he can. You hope he’s listening, somewhere out there. “I’m back, my dearest.”

“I miss you… so much. Every day. I don’t know how to do this without you.” Your fingers move to Suguru’s name next, tracing the familiar curves and lines, remembering the way Satoru used to talk about him, the fondness in his voice even after everything that happened.

“And Suguru.” you add softly, “I hope you found peace too. I hope… wherever you are, you’ve found each other again. That you’re not alone. Stay together, hm?”

The wind picks up, rustling the leaves around you, and for a moment, you almost think you hear their voices — Satoru’s light and teasing, Suguru’s deeper, quieter, both of them laughing together like they did in the old days, when things were simpler, when the world hadn’t yet shown its darker side. It’s a sound that cuts through the quiet, a memory that tugs at your heart, bringing a fresh wave of tears to your eyes.

You press your palms flat against the grass, feeling the cool earth beneath your hands, grounding yourself in the present, in the reality of this moment. You close your eyes, letting the tears fall freely now, feeling the ache in your chest grow sharper, deeper.

“I’m sorry.” you whisper, your voice breaking. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you… either of you. I’m sorry it came to this.”

But then you take a breath, slow and steady, and you remember what Satoru always said — that life goes on, that the world keeps turning, even when it feels like it’s falling apart. And you know he wouldn’t want you to stay here forever, trapped in the past, in the grief that feels like it might swallow you whole. He would want you to keep going, to keep living, to find joy again, even if it feels impossible right now.

You sit back on your heels, wiping at your eyes, feeling the cool breeze brush against your cheeks. “I’ll keep going.” you promise, your voice is stronger now, more certain. “I’ll keep living, for both of you. For all of us. But… one day, I hope I get to see you again. I hope we can be together again, somehow.”

The wind blows softly, carrying your words away, and you imagine them reaching Satoru, reaching Suguru, wherever they are. You imagine them smiling, together at last, watching over you, waiting for the day when you’ll be reunited. And in that thought, you find a small measure of comfort, a small piece of hope to hold on to.

So you stay a little longer, just sitting there in the quiet, in the space between what was and what is, letting the memories wash over you, letting yourself feel everything — the love, the loss, the longing. Because here, in this place, they are still with you. Here, by their graves, you are not alone.

You swallow, trying to keep your composure, but it’s hard. The memories rush back all at once — the sound of Satoru’s laughter, always so full and carefree; Suguru’s quiet, thoughtful gaze as he watches you both, always the more grounded of the two. You close your eyes for a moment, letting those memories wash over you, trying to hold on to the feeling of them, even as it brings a fresh ache to your heart.

“I miss you.” you say, your voice breaking on the last word. “Gods, I miss you both so much.”

Your hand drops to your lap, and you feel the sting of tears in your eyes, blurring your vision. You take a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself, but it’s no use. The tears spill over, hot against your skin, and you don’t bother to wipe them away. You’re tired of pretending to be strong, tired of holding back the grief that’s been eating away at you ever since you lost them.

“I still can’t believe you’re gone, Satoru.” you whisper, your voice trembling. “I keep thinking… I keep waiting for you to walk through the door with that ridiculous grin on your face, like this was all just some terrible joke. I keep thinking I’ll hear your voice, calling out to me, asking me if I’ve missed you. Fourteen years and I still think like this.”

Your shoulders shake with a quiet sob, and you press a hand to your mouth, trying to stifle the sound. You feel the ache in your chest, the hollow emptiness that’s been there since the day he died. Every day without him feels like a wound that won’t heal, a pain that won’t lessen, no matter how much time passes.

“I miss you so much.” you repeat, your voice raw and broken. “I miss the way you used to make me laugh, even when I didn’t want to. I miss the way you’d wrap your arms around me, like you could protect me from everything. I miss your voice, your smile… I miss everything.”

You take a deep breath, your fingers curling into the fabric of your clothes as if to ground yourself. “Sometimes… sometimes I don’t know how to keep going.” you admit quietly. “I don’t know how to keep living in a world where you’re not here.”

Your gaze drifts to Suguru’s grave, and you feel another pang of sorrow. “I miss you too, Suguru.” you murmur. “I know you and Satoru are probably driving each other crazy up there… but I wish… I wish you were both here with me.”

You let out a shaky breath, your tears falling more freely now. “I’m trying to be strong, to be the person you both believed I could be.” you say, your voice trembling. “But it’s so hard without you. It’s so hard to keep going when all I want to do is just… just give up.”

You close your eyes, bowing your head, and let the tears fall, your shoulders shaking with silent sobs. The grief feels like it’s drowning you, pulling you under, and for a moment, you don’t know if you have the strength to keep swimming.

But then, through the haze of your tears, you feel a small flicker of warmth — a memory, a feeling, a sense of Satoru’s presence. You can almost hear his voice, playful and light, telling you to keep going, to keep fighting, to keep living. And you know, deep down, that he wouldn’t want you to give up. He’d want you to keep smiling, to keep finding joy, even in a world without him.

You lift your head, wiping at your tears with the back of your hand. “I promise I’ll keep going.” you whisper. “I’ll keep living, for both of you. But… one day…”

Your voice catches, and you swallow hard, forcing the words out past the lump in your throat. “One day, I can’t wait to see you again.” you say, your voice breaking on a sob. “I can’t wait to be with you again, Satoru. I can’t wait to hold you and tell you how much I’ve missed you.”

You reach out, placing a hand on his headstone, your fingers trembling. “Until then… I’ll keep you in my heart.” you whisper. “I’ll keep you both in my heart.”

The wind picks up once more, rustling the leaves, and for a moment, you feel a strange sense of peace, as if they’re both there with you, watching over you, telling you that it’s okay to grieve, to cry, to miss them. And as you sit there, letting the tears flow, you realize that they’re not really gone. They’re still with you, in every memory, every laugh, every tear.

“I love you so much.” you whisper, your voice carried away in the wind. “I always will, my love. Happy birthday.”

And for the first time in a long time, you feel a flicker of hope, a small, fragile thing, but there nonetheless. A hope that one day, you’ll see them again, that one day, this ache will be replaced by the joy of being with them once more. Until then, you’ll carry them with you, every step of the way, until your paths cross again.

epilogue

In the ethereal expanse of the afterlife, Gojo Satoru was causing a celestial commotion that even the most seasoned spirits couldn’t ignore. The gates of heaven, grand and imposing, were currently the scene of an unusual spectacle. Satoru was, quite literally, throwing himself against them, trying to push his way through the ornate barriers with a determination that bordered on absurd.

Suguru Geto, Nanami Kento, and Haibara Yuta were standing a few feet away, watching with a mix of amusement and exasperation. Suguru was leaning against a nearby pillar, his arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. Nanami was rubbing his temples in frustration, and Haibara was trying very hard not to laugh.

"How long has he been at this?" Nanami asked.

"Since yesterday." Haibara snickered in response.

"I haven't had peace these past two days." Suguru sighed.

Satoru, his face pressed against the gates, was shouting, “GAH!? Let me out! I need to get back to Earth! They need me! I can’t just sit here while they’re struggling!”

Nanami, stepping forward with a calm yet firm tone, said, “Satoru, this is not a joke. You’re dead. You’re not supposed to go back. We’ve been over this.”

Satoru turned his head, giving them a pleading look. “But they’re my family! They need me! Can’t you see? I’ve got to be there for them!”

Haibara, trying to defuse the tension, added with a smirk, “Gojo–senpai, you know you can’t just break the rules. Besides, you have to admit, your dramatic exit would probably cause a cosmic mess.”

Suguru, barely containing his grin, stepped forward with a more practical suggestion. “Look, Satoru, there’s a much better way to be there for them without causing a ruckus. You can appear in their dreams. It’s a lot less disruptive and doesn’t require you to break through any divine gates.”

Satoru’s eyes lit up with realization. “Wait, really? I do that? Why didn’t anyone tell me sooner?”

Suguru shrugged nonchalantly. “You didn’t want to listen to me at all. Plus, you were too busy trying to create a celestial catastrophe.”

Satoru paused, considering the idea. “I suppose appearing in their dreams is a bit more civilized. But—” he added, frowning, “—can’t I just pop back in for a quick hug or something? A kiss, more preferably.”

Nanami shook his head, still trying to keep his composure. “No, Gojo. That’s not how it works. You’ve got to accept that you can't do what you want now that you're dead.”

Satoru, with a resigned sigh and the roll of his eyes, finally stepped back from the gates. He still looks like a child when he pouts. “Alright, alright. I’ll do the dream thing. But I want to make sure they know I’m there for them.”

Haibara chuckled. “Great. Just try not to turn their dreams into a circus act. They need comfort, not more chaos, Gojo–senpai!”

Satoru grinned, his spirits lifting as he envisioned his new plan. “Got it. I’ll keep it heartfelt and fun. And maybe I’ll sneak in a few tricks here and there. You know, just to keep things interesting.”

As Satoru prepared to set off on his new celestial mission, Suguru, Nanami, and Haibara exchanged looks of weary amusement. They knew that, despite his antics, Satoru’s heart was in the right place.

“Good luck,” Nanami said dryly. “And remember, no cosmic disasters.”

Satoru gave them a thumbs-up. “You got it! And thanks for the advice, everyone. I’ll make sure they feel my love, even if it’s just in their dreams.”

With that, Satoru faded into a swirl of ethereal light, heading toward the dreamscape to reach out to you and Satoshi. Meanwhile, Suguru, Nanami, and Haibara watched him go, their expressions a mix of relief and amusement.

“Do you think he’ll actually follow through?” Haibara asked, still grinning.

Suguru smirked. “If anyone can turn a dream into a grand spectacle, it’s Satoru. But I have no doubt he’ll manage to bring some comfort, too. Well, somewhat."

Nanami sighed, shaking his head. “Well, at least we’ve managed to keep him out of trouble, for now. Let’s hope he sticks to the plan.”

And with that, the trio returned to their celestial duties, knowing that despite Satoru’s chaotic tendencies, his heart was always in the right place.

And just as promised, Gojo Satoru did indeed make his grand reappearance in your dreams and Satoshi's, weaving a spectral thread through the fabric of your nightly slumbers. The dreams, much like Satoru himself, were a mix of whimsical chaos and heartwarming moments.

In your dream, the scene was set in a familiar place — a cozy, moonlit garden that felt both nostalgic and surreal. There, amidst the soft glow of fairy lights and the gentle rustling of leaves, was Satoru, his usual nonchalant demeanor softened by a warm, affectionate grin. He was seated on a bench, his posture relaxed, but his eyes sparkled with the same mischievous gleam you remembered so well.

"Soooo." he began, stretching out the word as if he were about to launch into one of his signature lectures. "Miss me much? I bet you didn't expect me to show up like this."

You could only laugh, feeling a mixture of relief and joy. "Satoru... this is incredible. I wasn’t sure if you’d actually come."

Satoru’s grin widened, and he leaned closer, as if sharing a secret. "You know me, always keeping my promises, even from beyond. Besides, I couldn’t let you and Satoshi have all the fun without me."

He gestured to the garden around you, which seemed to glow with a gentle, ethereal light, transforming it into a place of comfort and tranquility. It was as if he had crafted this dreamscape himself, blending his penchant for the whimsical with the tenderness of his love.

As you sat together, talking and laughing, the conversation flowed effortlessly. He shared stories from the afterlife, which he portrayed with his characteristic humor and flair, recounting celestial mishaps and the amusing antics of his fellow spirits. It was just like old times, but with a surreal twist — his jokes seemed to float in the air like bubbles, and his laughter was a melody that danced through the night. And then when it was time, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close into an embrace and a kiss.

Satoshi’s dream was equally enchanting. He found himself in a fantastical setting, a blend of his own memories and Satoru's imaginative touch. The scene was a vibrant carnival, full of colors and laughter. Satoru was there, dressed in an elaborate magician’s costume, complete with a top hat and a flowing cape. He was performing tricks, pulling stars out of a hat and making cosmic confetti rain down on the crowd.

Satoshi watched in awe as Satoru performed, a look of wonder on his face. When Satoru finally noticed him, he winked and gave him a grandiose bow. "Hey, kiddo! Did you miss me? Hope you're enjoying the show!"

Satoshi’s heart swelled with a bittersweet mixture of joy and longing. He approached Satoru, who enveloped him in a hug that felt strangely warm despite being a dream. Satoshi felt tears well up in his eyes, but he laughed, feeling a sense of comfort he hadn’t experienced in years. “I’ve missed you so much, Dad.”

Satoru ruffled his hair affectionately, his voice filled with genuine warmth. “I know, kiddo. I’ve missed you too. But you’ve grown so much. I’m proud of you. And I know your mom is too. You both are doing great.”

The dream continued with a playful sense of magic and wonder, filled with laughter and joy. Satoru’s presence, though fleeting, was a gift — a reminder that his love and spirit continued to be a part of your lives, even if only in the realm of dreams.

As the night drew to a close and the dreams began to fade, Satoru gave one last, heartfelt wave. “Remember, I’m always with you. In every laugh, every moment, and every starry night. I’ll be cheering you on from here.”

When you and Satoshi woke up, you immediately texted each other about the dream. And back in heaven, Gojo Satoru was pleased.

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milksuu · 11 months

Note

…the poly sett/reader/aphelios… ur insane for that one… i need a follow up🤭

-🎧

❥ prompt: Sharing is caring. And so is getting along. When it comes to you, Sett and Aphelios are working on it. ❥ content/warnings: mild suggestive themes, fluff, teasing, cuddling, possessive boyfriend behavior ❥ characters/pairings: poly!heartsteel!settphel x f!reader

"This one is so cute, Sett. Your mama really knows which ones to get you," you smiled, rubbing your face against a PoroKing plushie.

"Oh, yeah. When it comes to Ma', I got lucky and ended up with the best," Sett said with a grin, "but, let's be honest here. You're the cutest thing on my bed right now."

Aphelios narrowed his eyes against his computer screen. Clicking and typing away. He was working on a sample Yone had sent him to dabble with for their next song. He would need to ensemble some lyrics to go along with it at some point. Except...he slapped his hands against his desk, turning a sharp chin towards you and Sett.

"Uh-oh," you said, wrapping your arms around Sett's neck. "I don't think Phelly likes us being all lovey-dovey without him."

"Looks like it," Sett agreed with a snaggle tooth smile. "I mean, he's free to come on over when he's done being glued to his computer. He's been ignoring us for hours. What did he expect?"

Aphelios popped the cap off a marker, took up his notepad, and scribbled:

I'm actually working. Unlike someone I know. I wOndEr wHo?

You gasped, covering your mouth. "Phelly's extra sassy today."

"Extra? Nah, he can be worse than this. Believe it or not, he's in one of his better moods today." Sett chuckled, lowering his head and planting a kiss to your collarbone. "Probably because you're here. But it's got me thinkin'. Wonder how his mood will change when I take you all for myself. Right in front of him."

You shuddered at the tingling feeling. "Don't you think you're being a little mean?"

"The boss can't be nice all the time. Sometimes, he's gotta play the big bad wolf," he grumbled a purr, carefully nipping at your chest with his canines. You couldn't help the fluttering of your eyelids and hitched moans.

Aphelios almost snapped the marker in half. He jumped out of his desk chair. And launched a calculated attack while Sett had his arms filled with you.

"Woah! Buddy. What're you doing—?" Aphelios snatched Sett's chin, and planted the black marker against his nose and cheeks. With quick strokes, he painted the look of an actual dog on his face. Whiskers, snout and all. "Wait, isn't this permanent marker!?" Sett released you from his hold, jumping out of the bed and making a beeline for the bathroom.

Aphelios released a 'hmph' with a satisfied glean in his eyes. He sat down next to you, laced his arms around you, and plopped you both against the bed.

"Maybe Phelly's the real villain," you commented, snuggling his bed of hair. "But you two need to play nice. Okay? That was a mean thing to do to Setty. You should both apologize."

There was a twitch in his brow. He was the mean one!? He needed to apologize!? He brought you closer, placing his face between your neck and shoulder. He shook his head back and forth.

"Yes. Phelly. It's the nice thing to do," you said softly. "I know you two won't always get along. But I know you both love each other very much. And I love you both very much, too. And we can show that when we apologize after we hurt one another. Right?"

Aphelios buried himself deeper into the crook of your neck. Muffling his whines and groans into the heat of your skin. He didn't like admitting fault. He'd rather throw a written apology into the nearest burning trash can than give it to the actual person. It wasn't his fault he tended to hold onto grudges. It was always the other person's fault for not taking his personality into consideration. If they cared enough, they would know that about him. And in that case, they were making the conscious decision to be put on his shit list. He was the reasonable one. As far as he could tell.

"Please, Phelly," you asked sweetly, planting a kiss to the top of his head.

He exhaled one last breath of resistance. Somehow, you always had an unfair advantage over him. Slowly, he left the warmth of your body. That was a painful in itself. He almost cowered back into your arms. Needing a bit more strength, he slipped his mask down, and took your lips. Applying just enough pressure to make you both moan. Alright. That's all he needed. He could do this. He took up his notebook and marker.

Just as Aphelios was about to leave the room, Sett appeared from the door. His cheeks bruised red from all the scrubbing he had to do. Aphelios shifted his gaze away. A silent grip ensnared the two. Sett rubbed the guilty knot at the back of his neck. After a moment of silence, he grumbled under his breath. "Listen, Phel—"

Aphelios flipped his notebook around:

Sorry.

Sett stumbled against his words. He hadn't expected Aphelios to be the one to apologize first. Or honestly, apologize in the first place. Technically, it was Sett's own fault for egging him on the way he did. Sett's trouble was evident in the frown lines against his face.

"Yeah. I'm sorry too, Phel." Sett sighed, ears drooped. "I shouldn't have teased ya'h like that. But I couldn't help it. I just wanted you to take a break and cuddle with us. That's all. Hope you can forgive me."

Aphelios paused. The marker squeaked against the paper. He tossed his chin away, cheeks stained pink. He flipped the notepad:

I'll forgive you. On one condition. I'm middle.

Sett's ears perked-up. Grinning like a panting pup, he swooped Aphelio's into his love-crushing arms. You laughed when Sett dove onto the bed, causing you to bounce from the weight. Unraveling Aphelios like a long awaited package, you and Sett planted kisses against his flushed cheeks. The both of you then secured your legs across him, took up his upper-body, and rubbed against his figure in every way possible. Aphelios whined and groaned. He wanted to be cuddled—not suffocated. Of course, with his luck, things had to turn out this way.

an: poly!settphel x reader is my new crack. give me all the fics pls. also, maybe the next part will be nsfw. hmmmm! thank you for the follow req. anon!

#heartsteel #heartsteel x reader #aphelios x reader #sett x reader #settphel #settphel x reader #league of legends #league x reader #poly!settphel x reader

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scribblesofagoonerr · 8 months

Text

Cos' sometimes sleep isn't enough anymore | Inner Demons

⟫ Alphabet Challenge, C - Cos' sometimes sleep isn't enough anymore

Pairings: leah williamson x teen reader, arsenal wfc x teen reader

I guess I'm on a roll tonight? 3 parts posted so far, I'm not even sure how many parts this will end up with but, um, yeah, i hope you like this one and it's not to heavy to read.

Absolutely none of it's proof-read so yet again it could seem jumbled up or not even make sense but umm I can't sleep and my brain is overthinking at 4 am so this is the result of it :)

Thanks for all the continuous love and support on this so far!

Waking up in hospital, you think over your thoughts about what happened and wonder if you really did mean to do it?

tw: heavy angst, talks of SH, MH, suicide and death.

Bright lights and slow repetive beeps followed by the sterile smell of a hospital enrivoment.

That's how you knew it was bad when you woke up.

You really hadn't mean for it to get to that point though, you made the mistake of cutting deeper than you should have and now you have landed yourself in the hospital.

This was definitely not your smartest move you had pulled.

Something tells you it wouldn't be so easy to hide your pain behind a fake smile now.

You felt the wet tears covering your own hand along with the heavy weight of another body practically leaning on you.

"Geez, did somebody die in here or something?" Was the first words you spoke since you had fallen unconcious and of course, it was with your usual cocky teenage atttiude.

Dark humour has always been your go to, you hate to show any type of vulnerability.

"Y/N/N" Leah voice croaks in surprise as she sits bolt up right to look straight at you. "You're awake, finally!" she immediately breaks down into sobs again as she reaches towards you and wraps her arms around you.

"Yeah, I'm awake but there's no need to cry about it" You struck back with the same cocky atittude, that drove your team mates crazy but loved you never the less. "Seriously though, did someone die? Cos' you're crying that much right now that I'm begining to think so" you note, hiding your own pain behind the smile.

Just keep smiling, nobody will ask questions.

Everyone will think you're fine.

"Seriously, Y/N?" Leah is quick to smack you around the back of the head as she's now giving you one of her famous glares, one that you knew all too well. "You scared me to death, you little shit!" she admits, showing her vunerability.

"Ow. Ow-- Hey, you can't hit me, I'm fragile right now" You can't help but pout and hope for sympathy from the older blonde girl.

"Fragile, huh? You seem fine enough to be making jokes" Leah remarks as she continues to glare at you.

"Come on, you know that dark humour is the way to go sometimes Le" You grin at the blonde, who doesn't seem to have the same idea.

See? Totally easy to hide your pain.

Leah just stares at you in disbelief you're really cracking jokes right now, "You're unbelieve sometimes, Y/F/N" she mutters aloud.

"Uh oh, your using my full name, am I in trouble now?" You can't help to continue with your cocky, I don't give a shit attitude never the less you had worried all of your team mates like you did.

"Right now I'm just glad that you're alive," Leah admits as she rewraps her arms around you and squeezes you gently. "But if you ever scare me like that again then we'll be having a very different conversation!" she tells you, sternly.

"Okay" You wince slightly as the tightness of the hug that the blonde was very reluctant to let go off you. "Seriously, Le. I'm fine now, why are you still crying so much?" You ask, confused.

"I'm crying because I... I thought I had really lost you this time" Leah speaks her thoughts aloud as she still holds onto you like you would disappear all over again. "When I found you, like the... like the way I did, I thought you was going to die" she adds in, quietly.

Your own amused smile starts to falter as you glance down at the bandages wrapped around your arm. "I'm sorry... I am really sorry for scaring you like that" You apologise quietly, starting to realise the seriousness of it all.

You must've had all of your team mates so worried and right now you were only acting like a total jackass about it.

"I was so scared" Leah replies as she pulls away from hugging you before she readjusts to move onto the bed beside you. "There was so much blood, Y/N/N. I... I thought when we arrived at the hospital, it would be too late and I'd be saying goodbye to you instead" she explains, swallowing the lump that formed in her throat.

Shit, why did I go and do that? I've made Leah almost have a nervous break down.

How could you be so selfish? You didn't deserve the love you recieved from your team mate.

"I bet the bathrooms' a right bloody mess now then" You can't help the comment that slips out of your mouth.

Once again, dark humour is a key to hiding the reality of pain.

Leah clicks her tongue at your comment, although she can tell exactly what you're doing now.

You had been doing it all this long so easily, it was just that nobody realised it.

"Why didn't you tell me that it was getting bad again?" The blondes' question is something that catches you off guard.

Guilt-striken to hear her words, you found sudden interest with the crisp white sheets currently covering you.

There was a lot of things that you could have said, but would she want to hear any of it?

Nobody can help me with the way I feel,

I'm so tired,

I wanted to relieve the pain, I wanted a way out.

All of the questions racing through your mind, you actually began to wonder if you had cut yourself that deep on purpose? Did your own selfishness overshadow any other feelings inside of you.

The battle with your inner demons was just too much sometimes, you was just so exhausted now.

So, why couldn't you have just been left to die instead?

"What's going on inside your head, Y/N/N?" Leah's next question brought you out of your dark thoughts. "Talk to me, you know that I'm here to listen" she states with a gentle tone of voice.

Although the next words that you speak are nothing that she can be prepared to hear.

"I think... I think I wanted to die, I wanted an out on life" Your voice quivers as you admit the truth to the blonde, finally.

"W... What?" Leah looks at you with a mixture of shock and hurt.

"I'm so tired, Le-- I'm just so fuckin' tired. I... I can't do this anymore" You express your feelings as you feel yourself tearing up.

It was as if Leah hadn't quite regestered the words you had said, or she had but she refused to believe that you actually did want to try and kill yourself.

"The girls all went to get coffee, um I think that all of the girls will be back soon though" The blonde tells you quietly as she wraps her free arm around you and gives you a small smile.

Denial, it was so easy to pretend there wasn't anything to read into with your most recent confession.

"Leah--"

"I bet they'll be happy to know that you're awake now" Leah cut you off as she continues to give you that weary smile, you weren't sure if she was now clutching onto you a bit tighter in fear of you pulling another stunt like you did.

"Leah, didn't you hear me? I said I wanted to die!" You shout loud enough for her to suck in a sharp breath.

"I heard you, Y/N/N-- I heard you, I saw you, I... I was there for it all. I was the one who found you in the bathroom; You was lay in a pool of your own blood while you were slipping in and out of unconciousness" Leah broke her game of where she didn't pretend you as she turned to face you, you had her whole attention now. "I sat there, pressing a god-damn towel against your cuts, praying that you would make it and you... you tell me that you want to die? You don't get to die. You can't, we need you-- Damn it Y/N, I need you! Y... You're my family! So you don't get to tell me you want to die!" she tells you, the shake in her voice so evident that she's close to tears again.

"What? You... You want to die?" Beth broke the tense silence as she has a distraught look on her face.

"Do you really mean that?" Lia questions as her eyes widen in shock.

Neither you or Leah realise that some of the older girls had made their way back to your room, when they arrived they were delighted with the realisation that you were now finally awake after the long 24 hours but that quickly turned into shock and hurt when they heard Leah's words so boldly, that even the patients down the hall probably would've heard.

"I do, I did... I don't know. I'm tired, I can't... I can't keep doing this anymore" You admit out loud for every single one of them to hear.

You hear the blonde beside you suck in another sharp breath as she keeps her arm firmly attached round your shoulder.

The confession is left hanging in the air, leaving a tense feeling and it was suddenly so quiet that in the room that you were certain that you would even be able to hear a pin drop.

Nobody utters a word, a state of shock written across each one of their faces.

"Sometimes sleep isn't enough when it's my soul that's tired" You tell them, leaving them all stood there grief-stricken with the realisation that you really had been struggling for longer than you wanted to admit.

#arsenal x reader #woso x reader #arsenal women x reader #leah williamson #woso #woso imagine #woso fanfics #leah williamson x reader #heavy angst #woso one shot #arsenal wfc x reader

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shalomniscient · 7 months

Note

hello! can i request some ruan mei filth with sub reader 🤭🤭

ask and ye shall recieve 🫡🫡 sorry this took a while, i'm personally used to imagining ruan mei as a power bottom, so writing her as a dom took a little longer to cook LOL

good god, let me give you my life || ruan mei x reader [NSFT][MDNI]

cw. vibrators, fingering, praise, mild bondage

notes. sev try not to name fics after take me to church lyrics challenge (impossible) also sorry again anon this turned more introspective than my filth normally gets.....................

On a lonely planet at the edge of the universe, Ruan Mei gazes down on you like a goddess. Your hands are bound above your head, clasped together as if in prayer as pleasure creeps like vines up and down your body. This bed is the altar, you the sacrifice. You wouldn't have it any other way, especially when Ruan Mei ups the intensity of the vibrator between your legs, causing you to arch your back with a breathless gasp.

"Sweet thing," she murmurs, her voice drifting like leaves in the wind, "look at you."

Her finger trails up and along the left side of your body, from the bone of your hip, higher and higher until she reaches the curve of your breast. Her hand lingers there for a moment, warm against your left rib, before she cups your breast, swiping a thumb over your stiff bud. You whine at her touch, trying to chase the sensation, squirming against your bindings.

"Please," you whisper. "Please, please, I need you—"

Ruan Mei coos gently at your begging, her other hand coming to brush the hair out of your eyes. When you look up at her, desperate, with those lovely, teary, pleading eyes, how could she ever deny you?

You cry out her name as her hand slips lower and she pushes the buzzing toy just a little deeper into your slick cunt. It nudges against that spot inside you, and your thighs snap shut around her hand as explosions burst behind your eyelids, a big bang breathed to life by a loving god. Ruan Mei's gentle praises are echoing, distant as you float on that cosmic high.

When you finally come back down, Ruan Mei has shut off the toy and tenderly withdraws it from your sensitive cunt. It comes away with a wet, slick noise and you shiver at the sensation, your leg kicking out reflexively at the overstimulation. Ruan Mei squeezes your thigh in consolation, then lies down next to you, undoing the bindings on your wrists.

"Are you alright?" she asks softly, and you nod, your tongue feeling too heavy to form words. Instead you nuzzle close to her, your arms winding around her waist as your breath begins to even out again.

It’s moments like these, the quiet afterglow, that Ruan Mei wonders why you’re here—with her, at the edge of the universe. It is not an insecurity; no, Ruan Mei does not doubt that you love her. She does not need to test for that. She knows it, innately, intrinsically. But it is a sort of… morbid curiousity, in a sense.

One day, she will leave you—become something beyond comprehension, beyond your reach. Possibly, she’d forget you entirely. There’s always been a countdown on this love, and you know it.

So, why? Why stay, when it would be better, easier, safer, to leave?

It’s your voice that draws her out of her swirling thoughts. Your cup her cheek, affection bleeding through the smile you offer her.

“I can hear you thinking,” you murmur. “What’s on your mind?”

She contemplates deflecting the question. But Ruan Mei is a scientist above all else, and she cannot bear unanswered questions. Uncertainties. So she takes a deep breath, and asks, “why do you stay?”

You consider her for a moment, then tilt your head curiously. “What do you mean?”

“Why do you stay?” Ruan Mei repeats. “You know what I desire to achieve. Once those desires reach fruition… there will be nothing left of us. Of this.”

“Won’t there?” you counter after a beat of silence, seeming almost amused. “All Aeons have their followers.”

“You would walk upon my Path?”

You laugh at that. “Well, I love you. So haven’t I already?”

Ruan Mei falls silent. In the end, what’s the difference between love and faith? How might the reception of devotion differ between a god and a man? Does it? Maybe this is the link between divine and mundane that she’s been searching for. Maybe part of the heavens she’s trying so hard to reach is simply lying next to you, in this bed, in this lab-turned-home at the edge of the universe.

For now, she files these thoughts away, and kisses you again. Her lips taste like plum pastries, sweet and inviting. She kisses you slowly, mapping the shape of your lips, comitting every dip and countour to her memory. She wants to weave you within her, embroider the image of you into the tapestry of her existence so that she won’t forget a single thing.

(A foolish notion. You already are.)

You moan into her mouth and she swallows it greedily, like a fledgling god hungry for faith. Her hand travels down your body again until her fingers find your pussy, still slick with your own cum. You whine as she drags her finger through your soaked folds, her thumb rubbing on your clit.

“A-Ruan,” you breathe out, and Ruan Mei trembles. You say her name like a prayer, like she’s already divine. Distantly she thinks, as she sinks two fingers into your tight, welcoming heat, that it’s the epithet she cherishes most, because it’s the one that names your love. You grip her shoulder and cry out as she works her fingers in and out of your cunt, oozing wetness like ambrosia. Your back arches as she curls her fingers just right against that spongy spot. She kisses your neck as she feels your muscles tense around her fingers.

“Let go for me,” she whispers against your skin like a commandmenf. “Let go, sweet thing.”

You cum with a wordless scream, your nails dragging down her smooth back. She slows the movements of her fingers as she helps you ride out the orgasm, slower and slower until she finally withdraws. Your eyes are shut and your breathing laboured from your second orgasm of the night, but you have never looked more beautiful to Ruan Mei.

“I love you,” she says quietly, pressing her forehead against yours. You offer her a smile like a sacrament, and for a moment she’s terrified that you’d ask her to stay—terrified that she’ll say yes. But you don’t, and instead your return those words to her, pure like revelation.

You will be the only thing she’ll regret leaving behind. But for now, while she has you here in her arms, she’ll cherish you more than anything else.

#sev.writes #[nsft]#ruan mei x reder #ruan mei smut #too many divine themes........... i fear i may have lost it a little #too much plot in this filth #sorry anon 😔😔😔#ruan mei the woman that you are #u r the reason i must take mandatory ethics classes #anyway.#i wrote this instead of sleeping #if it’s ooc then. idk. sorry #perhaps i should go to bed

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mrkis · 2 years

Text

sensitive. (m.l)

PAIRING: mark lee x reader GENRE: fluff, smut WORD COUNT: 1.9k

SYNOPSIS: mark gets a boner from a simple kiss and you decide to help him out

CONTENT WARNINGS: explicit content, oral (giving), blowjob, slight hair tugging, small mention of spit, big cock mark always, exhibitionism maybe?

A.N: this has been requested. i'm not taking requests at the moment so please refrain from sending anything in. i wrote this because i am currently in mark brain and had ideas. also this took me like eight hours because @markiedub accidentally kept deleting it when she was reading lmao

You sigh softly as you check your appearance in the sun visor mirror of your car, fingertips brushing the corner of your lips to get rid of any excess lipstick that might’ve smeared during the journey and that your mascara hasn’t smudge across your eyelids.

You had rushed your makeup when Mark had asked you out on a last minute date out of the blue and you were desperate to go out and see him, rushing around your bedroom to find the most suitable and clean clothing, and applying your makeup at the uttermost speed. You were so eager to see him that you really didn’t think twice about your appearance, not until you were parked outside the restaurant in the parking lot with only a few minutes left to spare before you had to make it inside for your dinner reservation.

“What are you doing?”

“Making sure I look okay” You tell him, framing the hairs around your face and your shoulders slump in defeat. “I don’t feel okay”

Mark’s lips curl into a frown, “Why?”

“I rushed getting ready before picking you up, so my makeup is all messy and my outfit looks stupid, and—”

“No it doesn’t” Mark interrupts your rambling, a soft smile creeping onto his face as he admires you from the passenger seat. “I think you look pretty, really pretty” You side eye him and Mark immediately laughs, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he smiles wider. “Yo, I’m serious… you look gorgeous”

Your head slowly turns to him as your heart swells at his compliment, the adoration and affection pooling in Mark’s eyes is enough to have you throw yourself over the console and grab at his face to plant your lips on his. Mark’s exclamation of surprise is muffled against your lips, not expecting you to kiss him so suddenly before he lets himself melt into your touch, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as he closes his eyes, craning his neck to kiss you deeper, with more meaning and love, with urgency.

Every kiss you share with Mark is like the first, slow and tender. His lips make you feel dizzy, like you’re intoxicated and you yearn for so much more yet it never escalates further than a steamy make-out session with wandering hands that fail to go beneath the clothes. You don’t mind, to be honest, you didn’t want to force or rush into something that might make Mark stray away from you. The relationship between you two is new to you both, only having been official for a few weeks, so there wasn’t really any need to rush into anything… although, there were moments where you wanted him. Badly.

As always, you’re the first to move away from the kiss and you snicker when Mark follows your lips, his own still puckered and waiting for you to return. You give him one quick peck before announcing you two should probably wait inside, making sure the engine is off and unbuckling your seatbelt to leave.

“Wait!!” The raised tone of Mark’s voice startles you and you jump when he reaches over to latch onto your wrist to prevent you from opening the car door. You freeze your movements, staring over at Mark with concern swimming in your eyes, wondering what’s going on and what was wrong for him to react in such a certain way.

You take note of the way his cheeks are tinted pink and how his neck is flushed, his chest raising and dropping frantically with each heavy breath he takes. His mouth opens and closes like a fish and the sight would’ve been laughable if you wasn’t too worried about his sudden outburst.

You watch as Mark struggles to form a sentence, the grip his fingers has on your wrist tightens as his head ducks down to his lap and your eyes follow slowly, widening as they see the obvious tent in his pants.

Your hand rips out of Mark’s grip as you slap it over your mouth to conceal your laughter which makes Mark grow even more red.

“Wait—I just—It’s like—I can’t control it!! It just happened!!” Mark panics, his hands waving in the air frantically before he grips the hem of his shirt, pulling it down to cover the bulge as he refuses to look you in the eyes. “I swear, I have no control over it, it just—”

“Mark, it’s okay” You reassure him as you remove your hand from your mouth, unable to hide the smile on your lips. Truthfully, you’re a little flattered that a simple kiss can make Mark react in such a certain way. It boosts your ego immensely and the thoughts that run through your mind are wild.

He continues to act bashful, tugging his shirt down further but the friction of his shirt rubbing against the material of his jeans makes him still, his eyes widening as a stifled grunt seeps from his lips.

“Mark…” You call his name softly and his head turns to look at you. You feel a little confident, maybe too confident as you say your next words, “Do you want me to help you?”

He blinks at you, “Wh—wait, what? What do you me—wait, no, oh my god, you don’t have to do that!! Just give me a few minutes and I’ll be—jesus christ!”

Mark curses loudly when you decide to bravely place your hand on his thigh, squeezing the flesh beneath your fingers as you lean closer to him. His eyes dart between your hand and you nearing towards him, unsure of where to look until your nose is barely brushing against his own.

“Do you want me to suck your cock?”

Mark swallows thickly and blinks, seeming not to trust his own voice as his head slowly bobs in a short nod, letting go of his shirt and dropping his hands to the side limply, watching as you work at the button of his jeans, popping it open and carefully dipping your hand beneath the waistband, cupping him through his boxers.

He exhales deeply, relaxing into the seat as he watches your ministrations with half-lidded eyes, bottom lip tucked between his teeth with his fists clenched at his side. You’re giddy as you free his hard cock from the restraints of his boxers, the size of him sending a buzz to your core and you meet his eyes with a surprised grin.

“What?” He questions with a quiet voice.

“Nothing. You just got a pretty cock to look at”

Mark sheepishly smiles, unable to look you in the eyes as his chin tucks into his chest, cheeks dusting a slight pink once again but his mouth pops open with a short gasp as you slowly begin to pump his cock, hovering your lips above his cock and letting a wad of spit sit at the tip, using your thumb to smear it over the slit and head of his cock.

The sound of him whispering curse words through airy gasps is enough to urge you downwards, taking his tip into your mouth for a hesitant taste before pushing your head further down, taking his cock down your throat and swallowing around him as best as you can, wrapping your fist around the base.

“Oh my—fuck, oh my god” Mark whimpers out loud, pressing his fists to his mouth and biting down on his skin. You struggle not to smile at the effect you have on him as you bob your head, exaggeratingly moaning to send vibrations down his cock and his hips jerk upwards, a guttural sound coming from your throat as he accidentally chokes you with his movements.

He babbles out apologies after apologies, his hand coming down to affectionately smooth the back of your head, his fingers getting tangled in your hair and he tugs without realising when you hollow your cheeks around him, the burn on your scalp sending a shiver down your spine.

“Feel good?” You ask him once you let up for a moment to breath, using your hand to jerk him off as you look up at Mark who’s eyes struggle to stay open and he nods, untangling his fingers out of your hair to cup your cheek, his thumb pulling at your bottom lip and you lay a gentle kiss on the pad of his thumb. He smiles at that, head lolling to the side and resting against the foggy window.

You completely forget that you’re currently giving Mark head in a public parking lot and usually, under any different circumstance, you’d stop everything and probably drive away out of pure embarrassment from possibly getting caught. But seeing the euphoric look on Mark’s face and how strangely nice it feels to have him in your throat, you don’t care. You almost wouldn’t mind anyone walking by and catching the two of you in this position.

“I think I’m gonna cum soon” Mark breathes out shakily. “Shit—no I’m definitely gonna cum soon”

“That’s okay” You coo, sending him a sweet smile before you swallow around him once again, tightening your throat around his cock and he whimpers loudly, his hand coming up to rest on the top of your head again.

“Where—fuck—where do you want me to, like, cum?” He asks you, and you hope he gets the hint when you bob your head faster, his cock fucking your throat raw. Mark calls out your name softly, tugging your hair slightly to pull you off of him but you resist, shoving your head further down, your nose brushing against his stomach and he moans. “Wait, wait, wait… you want me to… you want me to cum down your throat?”

You hum around him for confirmation.

“Fuck… fuck that’s so hot” Mark whines under his breath. He allows you to do as you please as his hand falls from the back of your head to find your free hand that's resting on his knee, his fingers intertwining tightly with yours, his thumb dragging over your knuckles in small circles and the second you squeeze his hand back, to tell him that you’ve got him, he cums in thick spurts down your throat with a moan.

He’s shivering and trembling beneath you but you take no notice when you’re too busy making sure you’ve swallowed every drop he’s giving you, sucking him dry until he physically can’t give you anymore and is begging for you to release him.

His cock falls from your mouth with a plop and you sit up in your seat, glancing at the sun visor mirror like you did earlier before, stifling a laugh as you realise how badly you’ve definitely ruined your makeup this time, grabbing a few cleansing wipes that you had in your glove compartment, trying to clean yourself up as best as you possibly can even though there was no use.

Mark’s panting heavily beside you, his body jerking as he comes down from his high and he tucks himself back into his boxers. He buttons up his jeans as he turns to look at you and you meet his eyes when you finish wiping your makeup completely off.

“I think we missed our dinner reservation” You chuckle as you check the time. “Sorry”

“That’s a shame” Mark says. “I’m still hungry”

“We can go get takeout—”

“No. Not for that” Mark shakes his head quickly. “For something else. Something better”

“Better?” You repeat, raising your eyebrow suggestively as you lean back into your seat, crossing your arms over your chest. “And what would that be?”

“You”

©mrkis

#mark lee smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #mark smut #nct 127 smut #oneshot: sensitive

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itwasthereaminuteago · 8 months

Text

Just some Dom Frank smut that I've had in my wips for ages 😊

Frank Castle x female reader (with some Billy Russo x reader at the very beginning)

You've got a friends-with-benefits thing going on with Billy and realise you have a little kink which he's not really into, but he has a solution...

Warnings: choking kink, praise, pet names, p in v sex, teasing, begging. Please reblog if you enjoyed so that others may do the same! Please! Thank you 😊

Billy is fucking you hard, driving himself deeper and deeper with every punishing, sinful thrust of his hips, making you lose yourself almost completely. He brings his hand up to caress the side of your face and you arch into his touch as he skims it down the side of your neck to your chest where he pinches and teases your nipples. He grins wickedly, diving down mouthing and grazing his teeth over the plush skin of your tits as you moan. You grasp for his wrist, dragging his hand back up to your neck, whimpering as you can feel your peak drawing ever closer when his fingertips brush over your throat.

But Billy gently draws his hand away. "Scotch." He says. His safeword.

Your eyes widen as the word hits your ears and you try to calm your breathing as you both slow down and come to a stop.

"Oh Billy, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to…"

"It's okay, kitten." He replies, carefully pulling out and laying down beside you. "I guess we never covered that particular area." He smiles but you still feel awful for trying to get him to do something to you that he isn't entirely comfortable with.

"I- I didn't really know I liked it, until just then… but I'm still sorry, I should have asked you first regardless."

“It's alright, don't worry about it. But hey, I'm glad you've discovered a new kink!" You share a smile as he cuddles you into his arms and kisses you sweetly.

You and Billy had been friends with benefits for a few months now. You were both currently single and relished the opportunity to cut almost completely loose with each other. You found each other attractive, had a lot of fun, and most importantly it was a much-needed tension release after a stressful work day where you just wanted someone else to take control and make you feel good.

Later on that evening he came to you with an unexpected proposal.

"I feel so shitty about leaving you hanging like that before, so I was wondering if you might be cool with me setting you up with a good friend of mine. I think he'd be able to give you what you need, maybe a little bit more than I can?”

You look up from your phone, rapt and curious at the suggestion. "Billy, are you for real? You'd really do that for me?"

He looks surprised that you'd think he wouldn't. "’course I will baby, I just want to see you happy! If you like I'll tell him all your preferences. He'll only go as hard as you want, and you can play here at my place if it makes you feel safer. I'd be there in the next room if you needed me, but Frank's a good guy, he'll take good care of you I promise."

You sit up straighter at the mention of Frank's name. "Wait, it's Frank? You mean your marine buddy Frank?! I didn't know he was into–"

Billy chuckles. "Yeah, not many do. But you like him,” Billy smirks as he teases you, “don't you?"

You give him a sly smile back, he's not wrong. "Well, from what I've seen…" you murmur, thinking about the few times you'd briefly met, once when you went to meet Billy at the gym and Frank came striding out of the showers, shirtless. And then there was the size of his hands…

Billy laughs even louder seeing a dreamy expression cross over your features. "Alright now kitten, don't get all fired up just yet. I'll go see him tomorrow and we'll talk it over okay? See what he says."

You leap into Billy's arms. "You are much too good to me Russo! You know that?"

He nods and kisses the top of your head, still amused. "Yeah, I know."

Frank was apparently very eager to help you out and so Billy arranged a little introductory session for you both at his on the Friday night. Billy had clued you in on what Frank was into as you'd wanted to know, even though this was primarily for your benefit.

"-and you call him 'Sir', yeah?"

You nod. You were melting already.

"Hey girl, think you got a lil bit of drool hanging out the corner of your mouth there…" Billy laughs and you give him a playful punch.

"Shut up! I'm just… a little excited."

"Oh, you should be, baby." You can't help notice Billy's slightly wistful look as he says it. "You're in good hands."

When Friday evening arrives Billy lets you get settled in and informs you that Frank's waiting in his bedroom whenever you're ready. You're slightly nervous but when you open the door and see his large form sitting on the side of the bed suddenly all you feel is a buzz.

"Hey princess, how're you doin'?" He asks in a low drawl along with a smile that makes you want to bark. He looks so damn fine you want to squeal.

Instead you greet him politely, reining in your giddiness and desire. "I'm good thank you, Sir."

Frank grins, a slight chuckle bursting past his lips in a way you found cute. "Did Bill tell you to say that sweetheart? Y'know he's just messin' with you? You can call me Frank if you want."

You return his smile, nodding. "Yes, Sir."

Frank makes a satisfied sound and laughs again, softer this time, his deep brown penetrating gaze making you feel weak at the knees. "Mm, alright. C'mon over here, let me see ya."

Just this simple request has your body feeling like it's ablaze. He stands up as you slowly walk over to him, his eyes running over you like warm honey, taking in the way your soft cotton summer dress hugs your curves, the hem ending just above your mid thigh.

“You're a very beautiful woman.” He says with a note of sincerity and awe, bringing his hand up to gently trace the side of your jaw. You feel the heat flush up into your face.

"What's your safeword honey?"

"Cloud." You reply hazily. You're practically purring already as his fingers graze over your rapidly heating skin.

Frank nods. "That's good, mine's 'bullet'. “How're you feelin' sweetheart?'' he asks, "Think you wanna play some?"

You start to lean into his touch as his thumb strokes across the small smile on your soft lips. "Yeah." You respond, and Frank grunts his approval as you start to lick and suck on his thumb as he gently slides it between your lips.

"Such a good girl. Damn. Bill told me you were needin' a little somethin' extra. S'that right?" he gently probes, and you feel your entire body start to tingle with the anticipation of what he's going to do with you next.

You take the digit deeper into your mouth as he guides you down to kneel in front of him, swirling your tongue around it and hollowing your cheeks to suck just a little while you look up at him with wide eyes.

"Yeah, we're gonna get on real well. How ‘bout we see what else that pretty mouth of yours can do, huh?"

He slowly palms over the noticeable bulge at the crotch of his jeans and you can feel the saliva filling your mouth, dripping out of the corner as he presses his thumb down against your tongue. Yes sir, please sir you think as you nod slowly as he removes it and unbuckles his belt. The clinking sound of it being undone has you soaking into your silky underwear already. This is what you need. Just him to keep telling you what to do, to take complete control of your body and mind and make you feel like nothing else matters.

As he pulls his cock out in front of your face you can't stop your eyes widening and the eager moan that escapes you. He's big, long and thick, and as he strokes himself to full hardness you shift about on your knees, your tongue darting out to wet your lips as you catch sight of a drop of precum leaking from his tip.

"Look at you, so damn perfect an' all ready f'me.”

You push up onto your knees, keeping your hands to yourself until he tells you otherwise, your mouth open and tongue out flat and wide as you wait for him to give you what you're craving. Instruction.

“Yeah, that's right. You know what to do princess."

His cock is mere inches from your mouth, just out of reach. He finally moves forward to rub the head of it over your waiting tongue, moaning as the addictive musky taste of him spreads across it. You slide your mouth on, stretching your lips over the fat head of his dick, closing your eyes as you slowly begin to suck on it.

"Ah-ah sweetheart, look at me. Eyes on me." He corrects, watching you take a little more of him in, beginning to move back and forth and shallowly fuck your mouth as you obey and look back up at him. He groans letting his head fall back as you lap your tongue along the bulging vein on the underside.

"Oh yeah, that's real good baby. Gonna give you some more just like you want, huh?"

You moan your agreement around his impressive girth as you pull back and ready yourself to swallow him deeper. He's gentle at first, he pushing his fingers through your hair, cradling the back of your head lightly as you take him in as far as you can, gagging slightly until you can figure out how to breathe. Your eyes start to water as you gaze up at him. He's telling you that you look so damn pretty, and you feel the wetness between your thighs increase ten fold as his big hand and thick fingers wrap around your throat to guide you.

"Oh- fuck- attagirl, there we go, fuck that's it."

You think he's gonna finish off in your mouth the way he's groaning and grunting fucking your mouth, obviously enjoying the way you're taking him and letting him use you. But you're silently begging him with your eyes not to, because you're throbbing, aching for him to get inside of you, to be able to feel that massive dick fucking you until you can't think thoughts.

Thankfully he slows his movements, pulling out his dick and wiping your messy spit covered chin with his thumb. He lifts you up to your feet and gently pushes you back on the bed where you land with a soft bounce. As you struggle to regain your breath he's chuckling at your gawking stare as he strips out of his clothes revealing his muscular chest, defined rows of abs and thick thighs that you dream of being suffocated between.

"Hope you weren't thinkin’ I was neglectin' that pretty little pussy of yours..."

Of course he knows what you're thinking but you still shake your head. "No sir." you mewl, your body aflame from the way his eyes rove over you. Frank prowls up your body, his hand slipping up under the hem of your dress and gently cupping your mound, middle fingers stroking so teasingly up over your folds through your damp underwear. You yelp as he takes his hand away only to slap your cunt hard, the pleasurable pain jolting through your whole body like an electric shock.

"Don't lie to me."

"N-no sir!" You whimper as he rubs you again through the flimsy fabric, grinning as he feels the fresh flood of your arousal soak his fingers.

"Well shit. Look at that baby. You like sucking cock that much?"

"I like sucking your cock, sir." You pant, trying to grind yourself against his hand for some immediate relief. He lifts it away, slapping your pussy lightly again making you cry out in frustration.

"Gimme a colour sweetheart."

Billy had said that you would be in good hands. You were gonna have to get him a present or something for this.

'G-green!"

"That's a good girl." He smirks, curling his fingers over the waistband of your panties, peeling them down your ass away from your soaking core, and inching them ever so slowly down your trembling thighs.

"Heard you don't like bein' teased, princess…"

Your mind reels wondering where he's going with this, your breath shallow and fast as he bares you to him, tossing your ruined underwear across the bedroom. He kneels on the bed at your feet,

"On your hands and knees f'me."

He commands and you obey. It's that simple. He takes his time appraising you, his fingers drifting over your ass cheeks and carefully rucking up the hem of your dress to your waist.

"Cute." He remarks, noting how your breathing changes as he moves up behind you, his hand resting on your hip. You gasp you feel the firm head of his cock run between the folds of your puffy, sopping cunt. He rubs it up and down the length of your slit, over and over so slowly, and every time you think he's going to sink right in and fill you full he doesn't. You want nothing else so badly but to push back into him, to have him thrust inside and probably split you in half but he hasn't said that you're allowed to.

You want to scream.

"Doin' real good for me, such a good girl."

You shiver at the praise, but you need more, he has to understand how much you need him.

"Yeah, you want me to give you some more don't you? I know, I know sweetheart." He says soothingly while pushing his cock forward between your legs and bumping the head up against your clit. When he draws away yet again you can't stand the tease anymore and you break.

"Fuck, please!" you whine.

Frank smacks his hand down on your ass cheek and you cry out, heat blooming out over your skin as he runs his palm over the stinging spot.

"Please what?" He asks you so casually, as if he's completely ignorant to the fact you're almost dripping wet down the inside of your thighs.

"Please, sir… I-I need it, n-need your cock so bad, please!" You try, staring straight ahead as you dip your back, making your hips tilt up hoping he'll see just how ready you are for more. You breathe out a shaky whimper of relief as you feel the warmth and pressure of his giant hand grip around the back of your neck holding you still as he takes his cock in hand and slides it close to where you're aching for him to shove it. But he doesn't, and he so clearly knows what it's doing to you.

You want this teasing, this cruel punishment and yet can't stop your pathetic sobs of desperation, can't stop the tears from rolling down your flushed cheeks as you plead with him repeatedly.

"Shh-shh c'mon pretty girl, you know I got you." He says shushing you gently. "Deep breaths f'me hm? You good?"

You manage to drag in a shuddering lungful of air so you can tell him you want this, you want him to keep going, keep making you feel.

His fingers grip the back of your neck tighter when he hears your confirmation to continue and finally– he gives you what you need, forcing the thick head of his cock into your needy pussy. You moan and mewl as he stretches you open, despite how wet and ready you thought you were it's still a tight fit and he pauses for a few seconds, feeling you contract around his tip.

"S'that what you need huh? Feel good?"

You groan as he holds himself still, only the first couple of inches of him inside you. Then he moves, so slow that the tears return, running down the drying tracks on your skin as he thrusts gently back and forth, only fucking you with the very tip of his cock. Pushing in and popping out, so painfully slowly, in and out, again and again.

"Mm, that's all you deserve for now baby. That's all you're gettin' till you play nice."

The next time he pulls out he smacks his hard length down against your ass, thrusting himself between the cleft of your cheeks for a while leaving you completely empty. You do nothing, say nothing, just moan and let him use your body until he wants to reward you. And reward you he does…

You inhale sharply as you feel the sudden loss of contact, but then he buries his face in your cunt and starts licking and fucking you with his tongue. He grips firmly around your thighs, pulling you back, flush with his hot mouth as he works you up until your legs are shaking. You gasp as the coil deep inside tightens as he keeps it up, reacting to the increasing pitch and volume of your moans. You're gonna come any second and you know he's not told you that you can, that you're allowed to. You don't know what to do, the feeling is welling up from deep inside, it's getting closer and he won't let up, craning his neck to flick your clit with the tip of his tongue and delve his tongue into the steady stream of slick arousal leaking out of you.

Fuck, god… please, just a little more, so close, it feels so fucking good- almost… there–

Frank stops, pulls away.

You're shaking, crying, your cunt is throbbing.

He stopped.

Suddenly you don't know which way is up, whimpering as he spears you with his cock, sliding all the way into you until you can feel his hip bones hard up against your ass. You twitch and pulse around him at the sensation.

Fuck it's so good it's so good, you babble as he drags you up off your hands, his arms binding you to his warm chest as he starts to rut you hard and fast, his beautiful fat cock dragging so deep against your soft inner walls. Frank claps a hand over your breast, squeezing and fondling then tugging and pinching hard at your nipple while his other massive paw slides upwards to your neck, and you whimper and whine as it easily circles your entire throat. You lean into it, showing him that this is what you wanted, what you were being a good girl for. He holds you firmly while his hips thrash, fucking you so hard you can't speak, can't think about anything else but how perfect it feels, how you want nothing else but for him to fill you up, use you how he pleases.

He tightens his grip and growls as your pussy squeezes around him in response.

"Yeah," he rasps into the side of your neck, his skin smacking against your ass every time he thrusts up into you. You can feel his heavy balls almost brushing your clit. "Good girl… c'mon and let me hear you."

Every time he buries himself inside a pitiful little whimper falls from your open mouth. You wonder if Billy is listening next door, maybe getting off on the sound of the two of you fucking.

Frank's tightening, vice-like grip snaps you back to the moment and you're aching for him and starting to get a little lightheaded which makes everything feel so much more intense.

“Fraaank…” you pant.

"You close sweetheart? Goddamn, I know it, can feel you flutterin' honey, feels so good."

He's relentless in the way that he fucks you, but it's not without tenderness and sensuality. His lips kiss the sweaty skin of your shoulder as he holds you upright, your back flush against his broad chest, his hand still around your neck and one splayed over your stomach as he starts to ram his cock repeatedly right into that perfect spot.

“C'mon sweetheart, I got you,” he grunts, "go on, go off for me baby...”

When his hand slides down lower and you feel the electric sensation of the rough pads of his fingertips start rubbing over your slick clit, there's no going back. You're a hot, whimpering mess ready to fall over the edge.

He half-whispers, voice low and gruff by your ear. “Fuck that's it, fuck, yeah…”

He slams up into you as your body finally quakes around him and you let go completely with an uninhibited moan of pleasure, feeling the rolling fire of your orgasm exploding out in powerful waves through every nerve. You're barely aware of anything after that, only half registering the deep groan of satisfaction from Frank as he finishes inside you with several slow, deep rolls of his hips.

Everything feels warm and gooey, sounds are muted and distant for a while until you hear him again as you slowly come to, blinking your heavy eyelids open to his concerned voice.

“Hey, hey… you okay sweetheart?”

You gradually become aware that you're being held, warm and grounded. Frank's propped up on the mound of pillows at the headboard and you're laying against his broad chest as he trails his fingertips gently up and down the outside of your arm.

“Not too much?” He asks, angling his head to make eye contact with you.

You reach up your hand around the back of his head, leaning up as you pull him down to kiss him for the first time. It's a sweet kiss, relaxed and easy considering all that you've just done together. He's got the cutest smile you've ever seen on his face after you break away, this big unit of a man is maybe even blushing slightly.

“No this was perfect, thank you so much Frank, I couldn't really ask for more.” He hands you a glass of water and you kinda do wish you could indulge yourself a little more and lie in his arms for longer, but you're aware that Billy's just outside and you both should probably get cleaned up anyway. As you carefully push yourself up you can't help notice Frank seems almost reluctant to break up your little post coital moment.

“Y'know, anytime you need a little somethin’, you just let me know, hm?” Frank offers, and you know you'll definitely be taking him up on that. You slip out of bed and he's right there making sure you don't fall over your own wobbly legs on the way to the ensuite to shower.

“You comin' with me, big guy?” you ask him with a raised brow and a soft smile, glad when he returns it and shadows you, turning on the hot spray of the shower and helping you wash.

When you emerge Frank heads into the kitchen to pour you all a drink and you go to find Billy. He's in his office with his headphones on and gives you a smirk when he sees your blissed out expression, taking the headset off and putting it on the desk.

“Looks like you might've had some fun. Frankie, did you treat her right?!” he shouts through to the kitchen, and you can't help the huge grin that splits your face.

“Yeah he most definitely did.” You reply, your fingers playing with a pen on the edge of his desk. “I was thinking that maybe, we could all have some fun together next time..?”

“Oh we're already planning a next time are we?” Billy teases, and you smack him on the arm, shushing him as Frank appears in the doorway to hand you both a glass of bourbon each.

“You can count me in.” Frank responds before taking a sip and Billy grins.

You couldn't wait.

#frank castle x female reader #dom!frank castle #frank castle smut

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supercorpkid · 10 days

Text

Lovebug

Supergirl, Kara Danvers x Reader. Alex Danvers.

Word Count: 2830

Notes: @supercorpenthusiastic here's the scene you've asked for! Hope this makes it justice.

Recently, Kara has been complaining more than she has in years. It’s never direct—it simmers just beneath the surface, a quiet frustration that colors every sigh, every furrowed brow, and the way her lips press into a thin line when she thinks no one’s watching. And yet, the meaning is clear, always the same: We should live normal lives.

And honestly, you’ve been thinking it too. You could walk away from all of this—the chaos, the danger—back to the life you once knew. You were never exactly ordinary, but before you joined the Superfriends, there were fewer fires to put out, and your life wasn’t hanging on a thread every other week.

But here, now, as you scam around the med bay, you realize why you stay despite the cost. These people, this team, they’ve become your family. They fight for you, and today, they are fighting to keep you alive.

“Kara, I need you at the Tower.” Alex’s voice is sharp through the comm, a lifeline in the haze of your fading consciousness.

“Alex, can’t someone else do it? I'm working.” Her voice cracks through the static, and your body, though heavy with exhaustion, stirs instinctively at the sound of her.

“It’s Y/N. She’s hurt. Badly.”

Everything goes black before you can process it. The last things you’re aware of are Supergirl’s crest, a hand stroking through your hair, and her voice—shaky, almost breaking—whispering, “It’s okay, bug. I’m here now.”

When you wake, it’s to the familiar sound of Kara’s voice, though your body still feels battered, bruised beyond recognition. But there’s a comfort—her fingers in your hair, tracing slow, gentle lines against your scalp, as if she’s afraid to stop.

“I’m so tired, Alex,” Kara’s voice is low, tinged with a weariness you’ve never heard before. It breaks your heart to know you’re the cause of it. “I’m tired of the stakes always being this high.”

“She’s got superpowers, Kara. She’ll be fine.” Alex’s tone is steady, reassuring.

“Easy for you to say.”

“It is easy for me to say. I’m the doctor here.” Alex quips, and if you had any strength, you'd laugh. “Look,” Alex continues, “I know you care about her, but even if you tried, I don’t think you could stop her from fighting.”

You're not sure about that, though. You think there's a lot Kara can do to make you stop fighting. You’ve been lying still, barely breathing, but you force your eyes open to see Kara’s tear-filled gaze. She’s so close, her face etched with worry and something else—something deeper, rawer. Love? You wonder.

“Hey,” you croak, your voice raspy, “I’m okay. I promise.”

“You’re not okay,” she insists, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. You can’t help but wish she had the courage to kiss your lips instead. “I’ve never seen so many shades of purple on one face.”

“Well,” you manage a weak smile, “it is my favorite color.”

“Don’t joke,” she says, voice trembling. Her hands cup your face, and for a moment, it feels like she’s holding you together with sheer will. “Not about this.”

You give her a soft pout and add in an even softer tone, "but you love when I'm funny."

Kara’s lips almost break into a smile, but she holds it in, though her face betrays her. It’s painted with adoration. "I love it a lot more when you're not making jokes about you almost dying."

"She’s not—you’re not almost dying," Alex reassures, squeezing your hand. "You just need a couple of weeks to brush it off. You’ll be fine."

“Can I go home?” you ask, though what you really mean is whether you can get out of this sterile place that feels like an echo of all your pain.

“Sure,” Alex begins, but Kara cuts in sharply, her voice like steel.

“No.” She looks at you with a fierce determination that makes your breath catch. “You’re not going to be alone. You’re coming to my place. I’ll take care of you.”

You’re about to protest, to insist you’ll be fine, but the truth is, the idea of Kara fussing over you, taking care of you—it’s everything you want. You say nothing, letting her words wash over you like a promise you didn’t know you needed.

Kara picks you up gently, as though you’re made of glass—delicate and precious, yet somehow the most important person in her universe. As she carries you out, you can feel the tension in her body, the struggle to keep herself together.

You nestle into her arms, getting so comfortable it’s hard to imagine you belong anywhere else. She flies slowly, but even so, you're at her place in no time. She’s ready to settle you on the couch, but you make a disgruntled sound, stopping her mid-motion.

"Okay, okay," she says, sitting down first, allowing you to make yourself comfortable in her lap. "You’re feeling okay, bug?"

"I am now."

Honestly, the beating you took was brutal, but as you lie here, curled up on Kara's lap, her large hands gently stroking your back, you almost think it was worth it.

Kara takes care of everything—food, bandage changes, the works. She orders your favorite fried rice, even though it’s not from Chang’s. Taylor Swift songs fill the room, playing on a soft loop all day. And when you complain about one particularly bad bruise, she uses her cold breath to soothe it and follows up with a kiss to make it better.

At night, the two of you nearly argue. She insists on giving you her bed, while you argue the couch is just fine. So, to resolve it, she simply picks you up and lays you down on her bed, tucking you in so tightly you can barely move.

“Okay,” you laugh as she continues pressing the comforter’s edges under you. “I’m not going anywhere! You can stop now!”

"I need to make sure you’re comfortable," she teases, feigning seriousness.

You roll your eyes. "Well, in that case, I can't breathe."

She undoes her work in an instant, her concern replacing the playful tone. Once satisfied with your comfort, she leans down for a soft forehead kiss. “Goodnight, bug.”

"Wait," you hold onto her hand before she can move away. "Stay."

Kara’s brows furrow in confusion. She looks ethereal in the soft light filtering in from the street outside. You can’t help but think of how beautiful she looks, even with her worry etched into her features.

“There’s enough space for both of us. Stay…in case I need help during the night.”

It’s a flimsy excuse, and you both know it. She’s Supergirl. Has super hearing, super speed—and her couch is only ten feet away. But still, she stays.

After you're both settled in her bed, the two of you lie there in silence for a few minutes. You feel her shift next to you, her breath steady but laced with something unsaid.

"Hey," you whisper, breaking the stillness. She could be asleep, but you know better. "Why do you call me ‘bug’? I never really understood it."

“Oh,” she shifts slightly, her voice soft and hesitant. “It’s from a song I heard once. It reminded me of you.”

“Oh really?" You turn to face her, catching her gaze. Her blue eyes, now inches away, glisten with something vulnerable. "Which one?"

"You know, it’s been years. I don’t really remember it very well," she murmurs, her voice growing quieter.

You furrow your brows, not buying it. It’s dark in her room, but the moonlight coming in lets you see the faint blush rising in her cheeks.

"Tell me," you whisper, giving her your best soft pout—the one she finds hard to resist. "Please?"

Kara swallows hard before finally whispering, “I think it’s called ‘Lovebug.’”

“Cool.” You reach for your phone on the nightstand, never breaking eye contact. It doesn’t take long to find the song and hit play.

"Called you for the first time yesterday, finally found the missing part of me..."

Her breath hitches, caught in her throat as the first verse plays. She blinks at you. Even though her mouth says nothing, her eyes are screaming at you—this is too much. It says too much. It confesses to more than she was willing to. It admits it all.

"Now I’m speechless, over the edge, I’m just breathless. I never thought that I’d catch this lovebug again..."

Oh. Lovebug, you see.

"I can’t get your smile out of my mind. I think about your eyes all the time. You’re beautiful, but you don’t even try."

She mouths it. Every word. Her eyes stay locked on yours, unwavering, as if she’s caught in some dreamlike trance.

"Hm." You stop the song right after the line, kissed her for the first time yesterday, everything I wished it would be. You give her a soft smile. “Guess that part was a lie, huh?"

"For now." Her voice, barely a whisper, sends your heart into a wild frenzy.

For now.

The following days are a blend of recovery and tranquil moments with Kara, but the peaceful routine is short-lived. As always. It was almost too normal to feel true.

The next mission yanks you both back into the whirlwind, and soon, despite your injuries, you're itching to join them.

"I can fight!" you insist, though you can't barely stand up on your own yet.

"The hell you can!" Kara snaps.

"Don't you dare treat me like I’m incapable."

"I wouldn’t dare," she retorts, sounding especially daring.

You give one step forward, so you can touch her face and speak softly, "Kara, baby, these are just bruises."

She doesn’t budge, not even a fraction. Her face remains set in a steel expression. "The only way you’re going into this fight is over my dead body," she declares, her arms crossed and biceps flexed with her strength. You hold your breath, struggling to mask your reaction to how hot she looks like this.

"Okay, okay. At least take me to the Tower. I’ll give technical support."

"Alright, but if you so much as step foot in that fight scene, I swear to Rao, we’re gonna have a serious problem!" And you definitely wouldn’t want that.

You monitor the chaos from the Tower’s screens, since that's all you're allowed to do. You switch to a private channel to Kara. “Kara, there’s a situation two blocks away too. Can you check it out when you’re done there?”

"UGH!" Kara groans, her frustration obvious. “Honestly, I can’t deal with this anymore.”

"Okay, I'll ask M'gann."

"That’s not what I meant!" she huffs, her voice tight with emotion. "I meant, no more fighting!"

"What do you want to do instead? Sit down and calmly talk to the villains?"

"You wanna know what I want to do? If it were up to me, we’d get married, you’d move into my apartment…”

Your eyes widen as she continues, her words raw and unfiltered.

“We’d have a couple of kids.” She keeps talking, and you switch cameras to keep track of her as she flies to the new location you’ve directed her to. “We could buy a house in the suburbs!”

She sends a villain flying with a powerful kick, her fury almost palpable through the screen. You’re so stunned by her revelation that you can’t even bring yourself to speak.

“We’d adopt a dog, name him Rex, and a cat, name him Streaky! The kids would have a normal childhood.”

You watch as she flings another villain into a building. Kara’s voice is still untethered to the battle, yet her emotions towards you are clear.

"But NOOOOO! We have to be just superheroes!"

"Kara, what the hell!" Alex’s voice blasts through your comm, and you freeze, realizing you’ve accidentally left the channel open. "Do you really think this is the right time to declare your love?"

"I don’t know," she replies, her voice quivering. "We might be running out of it."

The Tower is quiet now, too quiet, and the only sound left is the faint hum of Brainy’s weird tech that keeps it running. But it’s not what you’re focused on—it’s the words Kara said over the comms that you can’t shake. Marriage, kids, a house in the suburbs.

You’ve seen her angry, you’ve seen her scared, but you’ve never heard her say anything like that. And now, with the mission over, all you can think about is what you’re going to do when you have to face her.

When she lands on the balcony of the Tower, there’s still a slight spark of tension in the air. She steps inside, brushing the dust off her suit, but her gaze finds yours almost immediately. She looks apprehensive and scared, eyes wet as if she’s about to cry.

Everyone else is still on their way here. Supergirl sure is faster, but you know your friends well enough to know they are trying to give you both space after her admission through the comms.

“Kara,” you begin softly, trying to gauge where her head is at. "About what you said—"

"I didn't mean to say it like that, sorry—" she starts, but you cut her off, needing to know.

"Do you really want all that? A normal life? With me?"

She pauses, her eyes meeting yours. You can see the exhaustion in her face, the weight of all the battles fought, the near-misses, and the moments when she thought she might lose you. “I’m just tired, bug,” she admits, voice trembling slightly. “Tired of living every day like it’s a life or death situation. Tired of watching people I love get hurt.”

You step toward her, your hand reaching for hers, and she clings to it like a lifeline. “I know. I get it, Kara. But you’re Supergirl. You can’t just walk away from this.”

“I’m not saying I want to walk away.” She sighs, pulling you closer. “But there’s a part of me that wants… more. Something simpler. A life where we don’t have to worry if the next mission will be our last. One where I won't ever see you like this.”

For a moment, neither of you speak. The silence stretches out, but it’s not uncomfortable. You know exactly what she means, and part of you wants that, too. But you’ve been doing this long enough to know it’s not that simple.

"Maybe we can’t have a perfectly normal life,” you say slowly, watching her reaction, “but we can figure this out. Take some time, find a balance.”

She looks at you, her eyes full of a mix of hope and doubt. “How? How do we do that when the world needs saving every other day?”

You smile softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “We do it by being together. We take breaks. We build a life between the chaos. Maybe that house in the suburbs won't happen tomorrow, but it can happen someday.”

Kara lets out a small, shaky laugh. “You really think we can do that?”

“I know we can,” you say, leaning in just enough that your forehead touches hers. “Because at the end of the day, I don’t care where we are or what we’re doing. I just want to be with you.”

Her breath catches, and for a second, the world narrows to just the two of you. You can feel her heart pounding through your joined hands, the slight tremble in her fingers.

And then, finally, after what feels like an eternity of almost-kisses and unspoken confessions, Kara closes the distance between you. Her lips meet yours in a kiss that’s soft, tentative, but full of all the things she’s never said. And it does, it says it all. It tells you that marriage and kids and a future together it’s going to happen, because there’s absolutely nothing better than her lips on yours, you’re sure.

When you pull back, she’s smiling in that shy way she does when she’s let her guard down completely. “Maybe we could take a vacation. Start there.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, your heart feeling lighter than it has in a long time. “A vacation sounds good.”

The two of you are back at her apartment later that night, curled up on her couch, the city’s lights spilling into the room. The TV is on, but neither of you are paying attention. Instead, you’re watching the stars outside the window, your fingers intertwined with hers.

“You know, bug,” she whispers, turning her head to look at you, “maybe we can’t have it all, but we will always have each other.”

You smile, squeezing her hand. “And that’s more than enough for me.”

Kara leans her head on your shoulder, a content sigh escaping her lips. In that moment, with the world outside quiet for just a little while, you know you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be—by her side, ready to face whatever comes next. Caught by the lovebug again.

#supergirl #kara danvers #kara x reader #reader insert #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl imagine #alex danvers

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calumsrockstar · 8 months

Text

Bunny - Ashton Irwin

a/n: DADDY ISSUES NATION RISE! This is my longest fic until now, and it´s inspired by @rip-quizilla.

word count: 3k

Where you find a mysterious hot neighbor.

Contents: MAJOR AGE GAP (reader is 19 and Ash is 44), perv!ash, spanking, pet names, praise, unprotected p in v, oral (f and m recieving) masturbation (f and m), corruption kink, daddy kink

Older!Ash x Reader

You entered your brand new house, it was small, but spacious considering it was your first. Your mom and your dad finally let you move out, giving you all the privacy you needed.

For the first month everything was normal, until you heard almost every mom in the neighborhood talk about a handsome and mysterious Mr. Irwin. Only to notice that he was living right next to you.

You were curious, since moving to the neighborhood, you´ve never seen what he looked like, your window was right opposite his, but he always kept the curtain closed.

Adjusting yourself, you looked at the mirror and flattened your yellow sundress. It was a hot summer day, and what better way to quench your thirst than to deliver lemonade to your supposedly hot neighbor?

You opened the fridge to get a large jug of your homemade lemonade, and left the house, leaving the front door unlocked.

Walking to his house, you took deep breaths, and knocked on the door. Now you wait.....

A tall man opened the door, looking to be in his 20s. His light brown hair looked soft and curly. his skin sunkissed. "Hi there." He smiled. Making you forget why you were there.

Holy shit.

"Um-hi." You smiled. "I moved here a month ago and I ́ve never said hello, I decided to bring you some lemonade. Some friendly neighbor activity." You chuckled.

He looked you up and down, basically devouring you with his eyes. "That's awfully kind of you." You detected some kind of accent. "It 's no problem." You replied.

"Sorry if this is too direct but, how come i´ve never seen you before?" You asked him. "At my age, I don't go out of my house much honey, I like to read, play music." You raised an eyebrow. "Your age? Like 25?"

He let out a throaty laugh. "You flatter me." Making you smile. "How old are you?" You asked. "If you don't mind me asking of course." He grinned. "Guess."

"28?" He shook his head no. "30?" He shook his head no again. "35?" You asked, hoping you didn't say he was too old. "More." He grinned. "No fucking way." You replied. "40?" He clicked his tongue. "You're getting closer." Your mouth was practically on the floor. "I´m 44, sweetheart."

"What? That's insane." You smiled. "You definitely don't look or act 44." You said. "Hey, how is a 44 year old supposed to act?" He chuckled. "I don´t know, smoking cigars on your front porch, maybe?" You smiled. "I´m young at heart, you know." He leaned down to talk to you.

"How old are you, little lady?" He grinned. "I'm 19." He widened his hazel eyes. "19, wow. Basically a baby." You fake pouted. "I'm not a baby." You smiled, teasingly. "You are to me." He replied. You frowned. Did he actually think of you as a kid?

"What´s a young girl like you doing living all by herself?" He asked. "I just moved out, I wanted some privacy." You replied, making him raise an eyebrow. "Privacy, huh? You sure you´re not gonna throw any parties?"

You laughed. "That's not what all kids do these days, by the way. Maybe in your time, Mr. Irwin." You put your hand on your forehead. "That was rude, i´m sorry." He laughed. "How do you know my last name?" He smiled.

You turned pink. "Well, you must know that women talk about you." He raised an eyebrow. "Do they?" He chuckled. "Yeah, all the time." You replied.

"Can you tell me what they say?" He smiled, making you turn an even deeper shade of red. "Well, they all say you're really handsome and stuff... And how they wonder if you have a wife." You smiled. "No, I don't have one, sweetheart." He grinned.

Oh god yes.

"Oh, that's good to know. I mean, that's cool." You stuttered. Making him chuckle. "Well, I guess I´ll see you around, Mr. Irwin." You said turning your back. "Please, call me Ashton." He blurted out. "What's your name?" He asked. "It´s y/n." You smiled. "Nice to meet you y/n." I hope to see you soon." You looked over your shoulder and nodded.

When you turned around, Ashton couldn't help but look at your ass. It was sculpted and it drove him crazy. He could tell you were definitely trouble.

Ashton closed the door, and smiled. You were the only thing he could think of for hours. He wanted to get to know you, to know what your interests were, your life. He already was utterly obsessed. He felt like a teenager again, with hormones blossoming inside of him.

You were sweet and innocent, like a bunny. Something deep inside him wanted to ruin you.

You could not help thinking of him too. His tattooed arms, his curly hair, how his tank top hugged every place of him. How his shorts were tight around his bulge.

Shit. You wanted to fuck your 44 year old neighbor.

Ashton let his curiosity get the best of him. He finally opened his office window, to see if he could peek inside your house. Fortunately for him, this was the window directly opposite your bedroom.

After a long day, you decided to go to your bedroom to relax. Kicking off your shoes and getting out of your sundress. It was hot, so you absentmindedly left your bedroom window open, not knowing you had a spectator.

"Holy fuck." Ashton thought, his jaw was on the ground. You were wearing a lacy pink underwear set. The dim lighting in your room made you look ethereal.

Ashton was getting harder by the second. He knew this was wrong. Spying on his innocent little neighbor. But at this moment, he could care less.

You took off your bra, slowly. Ashton watched your breasts slip out of them, he thought he was dreaming. You were the most beautiful girl he's ever seen.

You reached in your bedroom drawer and found a pretty pink vibrator that you've stashed there. You laid down, tracing circles over your panties with the vibrator, letting out little whimpers.

"No fucking way." Ashton mouthed. He couldn't take it anymore. He took his cock out of his pants, bubbling with pre-cum. He felt like a pervert, but this turned him on even more.

Little y/n wasn't as innocent as he thought.

Taking off your panties, your pussy was on full display. Making Ashton´s mouth water.

You pressed the vibrator on your clit while you inserted two fingers inside of yourself, curling them. The shock made your back lift off the mattress, with a moan so loud you were sure your neighbor could hear.

All you wanted was Ashton. You wished his fingers were inside of you, you wished he was fucking you.

Ashton started to rub himself, watching intently. So what if you saw? He thought. His cock was throbbing, he was desperate to be inside you. Every muscle in his body ached for you.

You started to squirm, your clit throbbing with pulsing sensations that made you convulse in bed. While Ashton was shivering. This is the most turned on he´s been ever.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck." You moaned while you bit your lip, feeling that familiar feeling in your stomach. Ashton started fucking his fist, harder and faster.

"Fuck! Ashton!" You screamed when you came. Putting your hand to your mouth when you realized what you said. At the same time, Ashton came all over his hand, panting hard. His curls were sticking to his forehead.

Did she just say my name? She couldn't have.

-----

In the morning you decided to lounge by the pool, and get some sun. You put on your favorite blue bikini and put your hair in a bun and headed out to the garden.

You opened up the door to your yard, secretly hoping a certain hazel eyed man would stumble in.

Sitting on a lounge chair, looking at your phone you noticed a tall figure looking down at you.

"Fuckin´ hot today, eh?" It was Ashton. A shirtless Ashton. Looking you up and down with no shame. "Good morning Mr. Irwin." You smiled. "You're finally out of the house." You added. "I wanted to see you, darling." He replied. Your mouth turned dry.

"You wanted to see me?" You repeated, making him smile. "Why do you want this old man out of your garden?" He chuckled, making you giggle. "Nah, c´mere." You told him, making a "Come hither" motion with your finger.

Just to think those were the fingers that were inside you last night made him shiver.

You tucked your legs in and motioned for him to sit at the tip of the lounging chair. When he sat, you spread your legs to fit around his thighs.

The only thing separating your pussy from his back was a flimsy piece of fabric.

"So, where are you from?" You asked him. "I´m originally from Australia, but I moved here a few years ago." You nodded. "Why´d you move?" You asked, picking at his sunburnt shoulders. "I think I just wanted to move on with my life, start a new chapter." He looked back at you and smiled. "Fair enough." You smiled back.

"I haven't noticed your tattoos." You said, stroking your hands on his arm. "Yeah got a few of them, love, years of experience." He smiled. "This one's my favorite." You pointed at his snake tattoo on his bicep. "It's one of my favorites too."

"Do you have any more tattoos?" You asked, rubbing both of his thighs. "y/n..." He melted into your touch. "I'm just asking." You grinned, placing a kiss on his neck. "Jesus Christ." He chuckled in between shallow breaths. "Are you sure?" He asked. You muttered an "mhm."

"I´ve seen you eye fucking me, Ashton, when we first met, when I was taking out the trash, right back then..."

He stood up, turned to face you, and sat back down."Dirty girl... When I was in college you weren't even born yet." You shrugged your shoulders, smiling. You could feel a wet patch growing in your bikini bottoms.

"I was touching myself thinking of you last night." You whispered, making him grin. "Me too." He chuckled. "You just looked so pretty yesterday... Your window was open." Your mouth dropped. "You perv!" You smiled. "Hey, you´re the one touching yourself thinking of an old man fucking you." He grinned.

"You looked so cute squirming, bunny." This sent shivers down your spine.

"Please kiss me." You pleaded. He wasted no time. He held your face with his two hands and kissed you, the kiss was fervent, urgent. Your tongues battling between each other, barely giving you space to breathe.

"Do anything you want to me, Ashton." You told him. "Anything?" He asked. "Anything." You smiled. "That´s a very bold claim to make." "I mean it." You smirked.

"Stand up." He ordered, doing the same as you. "You brought this upon yourself." He smiled, as he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, making you scream and giggle.

He unlocked his front door and carried you inside. You observed three guitars and a huge drumset in his living room, complete with 10 pairs of drumming sticks.

He placed you on the couch that was big enough to fit four people, putting enough force for you to land with an "oomph."

"You look so cute, babygirl." He smiled, making you blush. You decided to make a risky move. "Thank you, daddy." You replied, waiting for his response.

You could see his eyes visibly darken, and his mouth turned into a grin. "Holy fuck, y/n." He smiled. "Want me to be your daddy?" He asked you. You could only mutter an "mhm." Your clit was throbbing, practically begging to be touched.

He trailed a finger through your bikini bottoms, making your whole body shiver. "So wet for me, and I haven't even touched you, bunny." He whispered in your ear. "Please, Ashton." You mewled.

He tugged at the strings of your bikini top and undid them. "You have such perfect tits, princess." He said, while fondling them. Placing his mouth on one and nipping at it, making you whimper. "So sensitive, too." He smiled.

Kneeling in front of you on the couch, he tugged on your bikini bottoms taking them off. You clenched your legs together, by instinct, blushing. "No need to be shy, princess." He smiled, gently pushing your legs apart and peppering little kisses on the inside of your thighs.

"Such a pretty pussy." He cooed. "Fuckin´ perfect."

He kitten licked your clit, making you let out a breathy moan. He looked up at you, waiting for your approval. You nodded and smiled, making him grin.

He grabbed your lower back with his big hands and pulled you closer to his face, making you gasp.

His pupils were blown out with lust. Dipping down to face your sex. Without warning, he dives in and you feel him licking a long strip between your wet folds.

"Fuck! Ashton." You exclaim, grabbing his curls and digging your fingers into his scalp. He winced at the pain, but he definitely enjoyed this.

You grind against his mouth, while his tongue draws circles around your clit. Throwing your head back into the couch, your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

The sensation was almost too much. His eyes never left you, enjoying the sight of you convulsing on the couch. Your pretty moans were like music to his ears.

He licks faster and faster. Groaning inside of you. "I'm getting- I'm getting close." You said in between shallow breaths. He starts sucking on your clit harshly, the sounds were borderline sinful.

You felt a tightness inside your stomach, like a cord waiting to snap. "Don´t stop, please." You mewled.

Your orgasm washes over you, making your whole body shake, clenching your walls around Ashton´s tongue. "Oh my God." You smiled.

Ashton surfaced, his lips were puffy and his mouth was covered in your slick. "Hi." You giggled. "Hi." He repeated, smiling. You covered your face with your hands, and blushed.

"Can I taste you?" You asked. "I-um, fuck yes." He stuttered. "Yeah, you can taste me."

He takes off his shirt and gives it to you. "Here baby, for your knees." You smile and bunch up the soft cotton material on the ground.

You kneel down in front of him, pulling his shorts down and snapping the elastic band of his boxers, finally freeing him. His erection sprang up at you. It was the longest and thickest cock you´ve ever seen.

"See how you make me feel, bunny?" He asked, making you smile. You pumped his shaft a few times to test the waters, making him groan deeply. "Fuck, y/n..." He moaned.

You kitten lick his tip, tasting his salty pre-cum, making Ashton´s whole body shiver.

Sinking down, you took his whole length, gagging. Ashton gently grabbed your hair, holding it to get it out of the way. Bobbing your head up and down, swirling circles around his tip.

"Fu-uck..." He moaned. "You're so perfect." He breathed deeply.

Soon enough, he was moving his hips, increasing his pace while his head was thrown back. "Makin´ me feel so good, sweet girl." He groaned.

He pulled himself out of you, grabbing you by the hair. "I´m not gonna be able to fuck you if we continue this." He chuckled. "Want daddy to fuck you, bunny?" He asked, making you nod. "Please, that's all I want, please." You begged, making him smile darkly.

You both stood up. "C´mere." He said, picking you up bridal style. You were still surprised as to how he could pick you up like you were nothing.

Taking you up a big staircase, you found yourself in a huge master bedroom, complete with another drum set, and vinyls hanging on the walls.

He plopped you down on the bed, a bit more roughly this time.

He looked around, opening a few drawers. "What 's wrong?" You asked. "Shit, I don't have a condom." He muttered. "I'm on the pill." You smiled, making him grin as well. "That's all you needed to say." He replied, taking off his shorts and underwear.

He climbed on top of the bed, hovering over you. "Daddy's gonna make you feel good, sweetheart." He smiled, you watched his eyes darken.

He puts a hand on your throat and pushes his mouth in for a kiss, hard, sloppy, hungry.

"You okay?" He smiles. "Yeah, just please fuck me Ashton." You pleaded. "Atta girl." He responded.

He grabbed your hips and slowly pushed himself inside of you, hissing at the feeling. The initial stretch burned, but slowly but surely you got adjusted to his size.

"Fuck, you´re so tight, bunny." He groaned, starting to pump in and out, guiding your hips, making you arch your back off the mattress, if they could, your eyes could roll into the back of your head.

"Please, faster." You exclaimed. You were lightheaded, becoming cockdrunk, letting out little moans that made Ashton go wild. "Want to ruin you, so nobody but me gets to use this pussy."

"Fuck! Just like that!" You exclaimed, feeling the pulsing wave of pleasure continue to grow inside of you, clenching around his cock. "You're taking me so well baby girl, won't last much longer with you clenching around me like that." He breathed rapidly.

"I'm close, Ashton." You repeated. "Cum for me bunny, let me feel that perfect fucking pussy." Those words were enough to make you cum alone.

You felt a familiar feeling inside your stomach. You felt Ashton´s cock twitch inside of you, meaning he was close as well.

You released yourself, gushing all over his cock, "Mphhhh.." You mewled and he filled you up to the brim with his cum, with a deep groaning sound,almost animalistic. he pulled out of you, letting his cum spill all over the sheets.

"Give me a second." He said, getting up and going to the bathroom, retrieving some wipes to help you clean up, discarding them in a trash can next to his bed.

"Was that okay?" He smiled. "It was perfect, Ashton." You grinned, looking up at him, pulling him into a kiss.

"Jesus, y/n, you´re gonna be the death of me." He curled his lips up into the kiss.

#ashton irwin #5 seconds of summer #5sos smut #ashton irwin smut #ashton irwin fanfic #ashton irwin x reader #calum hood x reader #5 seconds of summer fanfic

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