#this made my morning actually thank you thunder

[allwehearisradiosilence]

hey bestie!! how was ur day :)

H I Omg I never saw this!! Honestly im still so angry at tumblr bc I’ve sent them so many emails about my weird shadowban glitch for months now- but I’m okay, the place I’m camping at is verr strange and verr inspiring

[munsonsmixtapes]

Virgin!Eddie X Experienced!reader where Eddie has a wet dream for the first time and calls (reader) for a little bit of help 🤭

Ooh, yes! Thanks so much for the request, lovely!

virgin!Eddie x experienced!reader

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) Eddie receives a handjob

Rain pattered against Eddie’s trailer as he tossed and turn in his sleep. His thoughts were filled with nothing but you and he could stop seeing your naked body and the way your back arched in pleasure as he pounded into you. Your hands leaving bright red scratches down his back as you screamed his name as he said the most filthy things in your ear.

He jolted away at a loud clap of thunder and checked to see that he had in fact had a wet dream about you. He had dreamed about you so many times, but he was always able to care of it. But tonight, he didn’t want to. He wanted you to do the job for him. He wanted more company tonight than just his hands.

Eddie turned onto his side to face his bedside table and stared at his phone, contemplating giving you a call, but it was three in the morning so he was sure that you were asleep. He was desperate, but not enough to bother you while you were sleeping.

Maybe he could text you. That wouldn’t be too disruptive, right? He was just going to text you and if you didn’t reply, he was just going to have to rely on his stupid hand to get the job done. But the thing about his hand was that it wasn’t pretty and didn’t compliment him when he made a sound that was particularly hot. And his hand didn’t snuggle him after the show was over, telling him what a good job he has done.

Eddie reached over and grabbed his phone and opened up the text thread he had with you before going through your conversation before debating if he was actually going to say something. Before he could stop himself, he quickly typed out something before throwing his phone across the room.

Are you awake?

He got up onto his knees as if he could see the screen from there and felt his heart race in his chest as he waited for a reply. God, why did he do that? He should have just left it alone.

His phone pinged and he launched himself across the bed into the floor, flipping the phone over to see that you had replied.

never thought I’d get a you up text from you

What’s up?

My dick, he thought, but he thought that was too to the point.

Can I come over?

There was no way that he was going to fuck you with Wayne being in the other room, so your apartment was going to have to work.

You replied instantly.

You don’t have to ask, handsome! That’s why I gave you the key, remember? 😉

He honestly couldn’t believe that you had trusted him enough with a key to your apartment. Sure, you had been at this for months, but he didn’t think that your relationship (if you could even call it that) was at that stage. But still, he took the key found himself staring at it from time to time, knowing that you’d let him come over any time he wanted.

You had given Eddie the key months ago and this was going to be the first time he actually used it. His excuse was that he didn’t want to potentially walk in you while changing but you both knew that you couldn’t have cared less. His real reason was that a key was a big step in any relationship, and he wasn’t sure what ever was going on between the two of you, but he liked it. And he was trying to convince himself that he didn’t want your relationship to progress just because he was sure that you didn’t want it to. He knew for a fact that if you asked him to be your boyfriend, he would have jumped at the chance.

Eddie threw on his shoes out the way out the door and raced across town to get to your apartment. He had memorized the way, no longer needing his phone to get him there since he had come over so often.He had never come over so early in the morning, though, and he was grateful for the lack of people on the road so he could get to you sooner.

Eddie pulled up to your building and the elevator ride to your floor was agonizingly long as it slowly took him up to your floor. Once there, he got to your door and unlocked it, letting himself in.

The place was in a bit more disarray than usual with a few dishes in the sink and appliances that took over the counter that were usually neatly tucked away. But that didn’t surprise him since you didn’t really have much time to clean up. And Eddie didn’t think he could talk because he could barely see the floor in his own room.

He moved through your apartment and knocked on your door which you opened in a flash. You let him inside and he couldn’t take his eyes off of the baby pink silk lingerie nightgown that showed off your body very nicely.

“Hi,” you greeted him with that pretty smile and he thought he could just melt right there where he was standing. Seeing you in that outfit, he really was going to need all the help he could get.

“Hi,” he nodded and stepped towards you, his hands, gripping your waist, pulling you to him. “This is a nice little number.”

“Really? You like it?” Were you kidding? Eddie swore he was going to cum right there just by looking at you. The dress stopped right at the middle of your thighs and the cups of the top were always sheer and he could see how hard your nipples were. It was driving him mad that you both weren’t already naked.

“Fucking love it. You’re so hot it’s unfair.” Eddie was really good at compliments. He somehow always knew exactly what you wanted to hear and never failed to tell you how much he liked the way you looked. He was just so sweet and you really wished you could have him b

“You’re hotter,” you told him, your hand moving up so you could twirl some of his hair around your pointer finger.

“Impossible. There’s no competition,” he leaned forward so that his lips were right by your ear. “But if there was, you’d win hands down,” he whispered before bringing your earlobe between his teeth and giving it a soft bite before pressing his lips to your jaw. He pressed open mouthed kisses to your skin until he got to your lips, pulling you in for a bruising one.

It was messy, teeth and tongues getting in the way, but you eventually figured it out, your lips slotting together like two perfect puzzle pieces. Your hands gripped his jaw roughly as you moved his head, trying to get more of him, beginning him to open his mouth as your tongue swiped along his bottom lip.

He opened up and you slide your tongue into his mouth, letting the muscle swirl around his as you both moaned in pleasure at the feeling. You felt Eddie’s boner against your stomach and pushed down his pajamas pants and underwear, giving you a full view of his cock.

“God, I need you so bad,” he whined and you shushed him, trying to get him to calm down.

“It’s okay,” you assured him. “Don’t worry, I’m going to take care of you.” You reached for some lube and covered your hand in the stuff before giving his length a few slow pumps, causing him to let out a loud moan, as if it was a sigh of relief.

“God, feels so good.” His fingers dug into your hips as he threw his head back, shutting his eyes tight as euphoria coursed through him.

Eddie’s hands slide down and pushed up your dress to remove your underwear only to find that you weren’t wearing anything.

“You’re not wearing any underwear,” he told you and you bit your bottom lips as you looked up at him through your lashes.

“Thought it’d skip a step.”

Well, that was very nice of you.”

You continued to move your hand back and forth, picking up the pace as you did so, wanting him to feel as good as you had a few nights ago. Once he had reached his climax, you removed your hand and you pushed him down onto the bed before reaching into the pockets of his jeans before pulling out a condom. You ripped open the packet before rolling the thing onto his dick.

You then climbed onto top of him and settled yourself onto his cock, both of you moaning at the sensation as you did so. Out of all the times you and Eddie had hooked up, he had always been on top, but this time, you felt like you owed it to him to let him be on the bottom. You took no time and bucked your hips into his, grabbing onto his shoulders so you’d have more control.

“Fuck, so good, baby,” he whined and you couldn’t stop thinking about hot he looked underneath you, his hair splayed out onto the mattress. His lips so pretty and pink and kiss bitten. His eyes shut as he made the prettiest sounds, it was all so euphoric.

“You like that?” You asked, moving the hardest and fastest that you could and he came completely undone underneath you, his hands scratching up and down your back, leaving bright red marks.

“God, love it, baby. Could let you ride me all night.” You could definitely make that happen, especially since he was being so sweet and complimentary.

“Oh, I intend to.” You continued to move at the same speed and you both moaned and whined and whimpered at every little move, being nothing but vocal about how much you were enjoying your time together.

If you were being honest, Eddie could have been the only man you ever fucked for the rest of your life and would have been content. You’d never tell him, but you’d hadn’t even slept with anyone else since that night at there club and you were going to continue to hook up with him until he got bored of you. They always got bored of you.

After riding him for what felt like forever, you both climaxed and did the proper things to clean up before climbing into your bed, snuggling up in each other’s arms, your naked bodies pressed together.

You stared at Eddie as you stroked his hair, wondering why he always came back. Most people would have kicked you to the curb by then, but it seemed like the never got tired of you. He was such a gentleman and you couldn’t believe that he had given you the honor of taking his virginity in that club all those months ago.

[kedsandtubesocks]

all of this (& heaven too) - hades!Gojo

He is not what you pictured. You had a painted image in your head of a terrifying immortal, ancient and dreary, who ruled over the dead. Instead you discover the king of the underworld is young, all brilliant wide smiles, and more importantly - dangerously handsome.

Or

You are a goddess of spring torn between two fates, that is until you meet a strange man leaning against a tree…

pairing: satoru gojo x fem!reader

tags & warnings: 18+ only mdni, loose interpretation and altering of the hades & persephone myth, complicated/strained parental relationship (could be read as controlling/manipulative), mentions of kidnapping, brief physical assault, clingy + lovesick Gojo, slight wound licking and finger sucking, allusion to fem!oral receiving, Gojo being Gojo and offering gruesome violence as a form of love… if there is anything I missed pls let me know!!

wc: 14k

a/n: title is from the florence + the machine song of the same name. I already hate myself for wanting to write a companion piece to this from gojo’s pov… okay that’s all please enjoy, thank you for reading! Also biggest thank you to @stellamancer & @willowser who have been my best comrades in Gojo hell

When you were just a young little sapling your mother once asked you what your favorite thing about this world was.

“The great big sky!” You had told her brightly.

“The sky?” Your mother asked, amused. “Not any of the flowers? The rivers? Or the fields, my little sprout?” 

“Nope!” You were adamant.

“Then why?” Your mother grinned and so you told her.

“Because it’s so big! Like there’s so much room to grow!” 

Then you added. “And it’s so blue, like the sea!” 

Your mother had laughed warm, vibrantly loud like the morning rays waking you up.

The sky. You always loved the sky. Even as an immortal crafted from ichor and stardust, the sky made you feel mortal in the best ways, especially now.

Now, as a fully matured celestial being, you are as old as one of the grand redwood trees you loved running alongside when you were a little.

You glance up at the sky while the wind blusters through your fields. Even with looming clouds clustering above signaling the arrival of a storm, you find reassurance there. The storm now actually feels comforting as a similar storm of unrest swirls inside of you. You stomp down from the mountain not even waiting for your mother.

That entire meeting with her, you, and the lord of the skies was pointless. Gakuganji, with his thunderous melodies and even with all his wisdom, made you curse the skies. 

“We shall need to discuss terms of the arranged courting rituals soon.” You had almost choked when you heard the old god’s words. He could not be serious.

Even when you yelled confused, even when your mother sent you a sharp glare to keep quiet, Gakuganji never once acknowledged you. It was like you were not even present, just a simple wallflower ignored against the grander of other immortals. Because to them, you would always be a little sapling, your mothers offspring, nothing more.

The thunder booms ahead and you wish the rain would pour down on you. Maybe the rain would help simmer you down.

“Well now, don’t you look just as feral as a chimera?” A voice emerges,a coy playful tone you’ve never heard before. 

When you snap your gaze to the side, you discover a man. Clothed in deep obsidian robes, he seems just as tall as the sycamore tree he leans against.

His hair is a startling white and -

His eyes are blindfolded.

Being so close to the sacred grounds tells you this man must be another immortal. But you had never met him before.

Then again, you had happily enjoyed staying unaware among your blooms. You wistfully ignored the problems and squabbles the others had. Even when you came of age centuries ago you did not have any desire to accompany your mother to Olympus. It was only recently that she began dragging you with her. Now you wonder if that decision has caused you to be the fool.

You glare at the mystery man. “I’m just fine, thank you.”

“Mhm, doesn’t look like it.” His taunts lightly and it makes you want to shriek.

“Wanna tell me who’s responsible?” Now his lips form into a soft grin. “I could deal with them for you.”

Even as strange as this man is, there’s some sense of comfort in his casual comment. The tension in your body, even in your face, slowly flutters away.

You sigh. “No it’s fine.”

Looking at his covered eyes, you already wonder what color they are.

Your name is called out sharp before you can ask your mystery man what his name is. Your mother’s voice snaps your spine straight. Quickly whipping around you see her scurrying to you with wide worried eyes. 

“Head home, little sprout.” She urges you.

“Wait, why?” 

“Head. Home.” Her words echo with the same force as the storm brewing around you.

Your mother’s magic swiftly swirls all around. She is getting ready to sweep you into the wind that helps her run along her wheat fields. You can’t help it. Your eyes fall to the mystery man. His handsome features smirk amused. You mother however stares at him as if he is an abomination from the depths of the underworld.

“Lord Gojo, good day to you.” And when she says his name, you discover this mystery man is not just from the depths of the underworld, but its ruler.

Your heart plummets fast into your stomach. The strangest concoction of emotions swirls in you. Terror and curiosity are not a desirable pair to navigate through. 

Then in a wild gust, you are teleported home. You wonder if your mind might have flown out in the whirlwind because you still cannot believe it.

You just met the Lord of the underworld.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧

His existence was a simple phrase of his name you were told never to utter. 

Lord Gojo. 

The strongest of the immortals. The rumors paint him as a mindless monster who slaughtered titans during the Great War. He was a ghastly terror. The only immortal fit to rule over the dreary underworld. You used to paint him in your mind as someone aged like Gakuganji. The lord was carved from myth, ancient and terrifying. So you imagined him more creature than man.

Yet instead he exists a smiling handsome man who appears to you now. 

“M-my Lord!” You stammer out frantically.

You had been sitting by the riverside braiding another floral crown to keep your mind at ease. Then, out of the blue, like a strike of lightning, the underworld’s king appears beside you. 

“Oh no,” Gojo simply waves. “Please no titles, they disgust me.”

You almost choke on your own confused inhale.

“What are you doing here?” You squawk confused, trying to ignore how rapid your heart races in your chest.

This god was painted to be a terrifying tale. You mother once even told you he would only bring chaos and misfortune to anyone who crosses his path. 

Now he lounges beside you under the shade of the trees. 

“I came to see if you were alright. You looked so upset before.”

His words knock you breathless. Your mind could not believe this was truly the dreaded god of the underworld. Suddenly said king gasps obnoxiously loud and you almost jump out of your skin. 

“What are you making?!” He leans down to point at the flowers in your lap.

“Flower crowns, they’re for the village children nearby.”

You loved to leave them off at the edge of the fields where the children played. Whenever you catch them wearing the bright floral wreaths your heart soars .

“Aw, that’s sweet.” Gojo admires, like a loud wind chime. “Can you make one for me then!?”

You wonder if the ground has given out from under you. The man whispered to be pure power, now wears a childish frown with his lip sticking out in a full on pout.

“Please?” He pleads. 

Left with no choice, your attention goes back to the flowers bunched lonely in your lap and you furiously return to braiding.

“That one better be for me!” The king of the underworld comments in a song-like tone. A quick temptation rises in you to throw the flowers in the nearby river.

“What are you even doing here?” For some reason, you blurt that out.

The words leave before you can stop yourself and your eyes widen in horror. This is it. Your mind jumps to every awful thing he could probably do to you. And he does the absolute worst.

He laughs.

It colors his cheeks lovely and you hate how it somehow intensifies his handsome features even more.

“I told you! I wanted to check up on you.” Gojo smiles toothy but swiftly the image of a grinning crocodile waiting in the water comes to mind. 

“I don’t believe you.” Again, you speak out too fast. Thankfully his lips thin into an amused line.

“You’re a lot more perceptive than you look, I like that.”

His words shake your brain, a fierce little rattle that has you staring at him stunned. Your heart races to find a regular beat.

“Well,” Gojo sighs. “I did have an annoying meeting with the others. But… while I was up here I thought I’d drop by and see how you were doing, petals.”

The fond playful name he bestows upon you is done so casually. Yet, it snags your breath.

Petals.

The nickname has your mind reeling until you fully process what he said. The meeting he went to was the same one your mother must have gone to earlier and is still at. 

“What was it about?” You ask a bit calmer as you braid simple dandelions to pop against the forget me nots. 

Silence softly settles and mixes in with the rush of the river.

“You mean…no one’s told you?” 

Gojo’s voice is a soft but stunned whisper that steals your attention back to him. You now are frustrated you can’t see his eyes, can’t see the emotion in them.

“Told me what?” You frown.

The lord of the underworld stays quiet. He tilts his head towards your lap.

“The color of those flowers are lovely.” He says simply and even with a touch of awe.

Indignation rises in you, a heated over spilling boil and you snap. “What did you all discuss!?”

Then it hits you. You just flat out demanded so fiercely to the ruler of the underworld.

“I apologize-”

“No,” Blindfold or not his attention is fully directed towards you now. “Don’t apologize. You deserve to feel frustrated. Believe me I would be too.”

You exhale shakily. 

“There's been more talk about your place among the others.” Gojo tells you simply. “Arranged marriage is being thrown around.”

Your heart sinks fast.

“I should have known.” You sigh as you rapidly return back to looking at your flowers. Slowly vines start to grow against your ankles. Your powers react to your emotions, and now the sensation of feeling tired manifests itself. 

“Everyone thinks I’m just my mother's offspring,” you snap mainly to yourself. “Or that I’m only here to be someone’s marriage partner, but I’m not.”

The vines start to prickle against your skin. When you glance down so many have already grown across your legs. 

“Who are you then? And who do you want to be?” Gojo’s words are so soft, casual and almost friendly. 

The question even seems like one of your nymph companions would have asked you. Except Gojo’s directed unflinching attention almost makes you fidget.

“I…” you don’t even know how to answer. Even as you try to gather a reasonable one, the words feel chained in your throat.

You instead sigh and return to braiding.

Eventually the words come out, more of a whisper than anything.

“I’m me…that’s all. And I want to continue just being me.”

It probably made no sense, maybe even sounded awfully simplified at all to the god who watched over the dead. But the words held heavy truth in your heart.

You might not fully know who you truly are, but the choice to figure it out, to grow and simply make decisions for yourself, is all you wanted. You don’t want to be a simplified extension of your mother or a piece to use in a marriage arrangement.

After braiding in another daffodil stem, you notice the king beside you has gone quiet. 

When you turn to the side you discover the god of the underworld is gone.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧

Something dances in the air, an unknown sensation that tingles and crawls against your skin. It feels like a warning you can’t fully describe. 

When you try to press your mother about the meeting she avoids the conversation completely. It causes enough anger to rise so quickly in you that thorned roses pierce your hands. Then, one morning she arrives at your side with the heaviest expression.

“Mother, please tell me, what is happening?” You try asking as earnestly as you can. 

Your mother, with her emotional turbulent eyes like a brewing storm, instead walks over to you and tenderly holds you in her arms.

“Know everything I do, I do for you.” Then she vanishes.

You swallow back a frustrated scream and instead furiously stomp away to your spot by the river stream. 

Thankfully none of the tree or forest nymphs come near you. They must sense your frustration or see the prickly cacti slowly starting to sprout around you like a safely sharp fortress.

“Did you finish my flower crown, petals?” 

A twinkling voice comes swift. It galvanizes your body as you scramble up fast to whip around.

There behind you, with an amused ease, stands the king of the netherworld. At the sight of him, the cacti plants bloom wild and bright buds.

“I like the color of these.” Gojo smriks nudging his face towards them.

“What are you doing here?” You whisper. 

“I’m sorry, petals, don’t have much time.” Gojo frowns and then squares up firmly. It stuns you at how broad and striking he looks, a black ink stain against the picaresque forest landscape that has you captivated.

His face is somber, a true image of a composed ruler. 

“The others made a decision. You’re going to be married off to another young immortal. But… your mother is coming to get you. She plans to keep you locked away. Made a whole scene about it.”

The words pierce your heart, piece your lungs and maybe your very soul as you choke on an exhale.

Blinking away tears, you stare at the king.

“Why are you telling me this?” Your voice cracks.

“Because I believed you deserved to know, and that you deserved a choice.” Gojo answers but in its simplicity you find absolute comfort.

“So here are your choices…” Gojo continues and the scenarios flash a vivid picture in your head.

You can let your mother whisk you away and keep you locked by her side forever. Or you can let the lord of the sky decree all powerful and place you in a marriage with someone you don't even know.

“Or…” Gojo’s voice now dances optimistic and light. 

“You can come back with me.”

The offer hits you with the force of a landslide. You sputter out nonsense, unable to process what you just heard.

Gojo decides to clarify himself.

“Come back with me.” He beams. “No one will know where you went. You’ll get to lay low for a while, maybe figure out what you want to do. You wouldn’t have to worry about anything.”

“And, best part of all? You get to enjoy as much time as you’d like with me.” Gojo sounds absolutely ecstatic at the idea. 

Spending time with him and in the underworld however sounds like a terrifying punishment. Just the thought of the underworld itself draws a haunting dread. Would you be safe there? Could you even last long among the cold dreary depths?

The wind blows fluttering leaves around you. The strange sensation you sensed in the air arrives thicker and now the wind swirls like a warning. This time it urges you of your mother fast approaching with the fate tied with her.

Surprisingly, the lord of the underworld waits so patiently silent. Then, a cocky smirk twitches his lips, a silent challenge almost as if to say he might know your answer. 

Your answer comes in three simple steps. Before you are even fully by his side, you blink and disappear from the surface. 

In the forest, all that remains of you are the cacti now completely covered in glorious colorful blooms.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧

The underworld is a crystal dream.

When you first thought of the realm of the dead your mind conjured up a dreary desolate wasteland, one filled with anguish and wailing, dark hallowed hallways lined with skeletons. Instead gem lined caverns greet you wherever you go.

A solemn gloom however faintly hangs in the air and could not be ignored. You spot multiple shades, souls of those who have passed, wandering towards the different rivers or simply fading in and out at the edge of the castle. Death did soak this land. From a distance the looming light of Tartarus solidifies that haunting realization. The blood soaked fire orb flickered a chilling reminder of the dangers this realm posed.

“How long will I be here?” You had asked. 

“As long as you want.” Gojo chirped. “You can leave whenever you want. Can take all the time you need to figure out what you want to do.”

It was warm and heartfelt. However…

“There are only two rules I need you to follow.” Gojo had added ominously and shattered the warm welcome. The rules were simple.

Never go to Tartarus.

And never eat anything from this world.

Simple, but the ominous directness sparks your mind to wonder about what terrors really did lurk here. Besides those two warnings, Gojo welcomes you with grand excitement into his grand home.

That first night you arrived he practically bounced with every step as he showed you around the kingdom. You were so worried the sight of this world would scare you. Instead elation and even a tinge of appreciation blooms in you. You had never once imagined in your lifetime that you’d ever see this. A new appreciation emerges for this place that would be housing you until you figured out your path. 

Gojo also introduced you to the two other immortals living within the halls of the underworld.

Shoko, the goddess of death, who with her stunning features and dreary eyes smiles so kind whenever she sees you.

Then there was Utahime, the goddess of magic, of spells and the crossroads. 

“I hope you will enjoy your time here. The underworld has a special way of… revealing to us our true selves.” She had told you sagely. You enjoy browsing her vast collection of scrolls and you eagerly listen to any tales she shares with you. 

Even during the times you spend with her or Shoko, the king of the underworld quickly arrives to your side like a persistent gnat.

You decide to take strolls along the charcoal sand riverside, a familiar tradition you did on the surface. Gojo accompanies you any chance he can.

He’s a curious creature and asks you a range of questions. What do you love most about the surface? What do you dream of? What color do you associate with yourself? You answer them all and then some. You tell him about the nymphs, your friends, about the days you used to grow sunflowers so big they would rival trees.

He snickers, makes playful commentary, but listens with full rapture. His attempt to know you better has you grudgingly slowing easing into his presence. 

As much as you enjoy the time spent along the riverside, it doesn’t compare to your favorite place in the entire underworld.

The Elysian Fields stole your breath away the moment you first saw them. You never believed anything organic could grow in a realm meant to harness and hold the dead. Yet the fields stretched before you in wonderful waves of green, of color, of life.

It’s why you spend so much time here. 

Among the grass and the trees, your mind can freely wander. Your mother must be upset. You could only imagine the pain she must be going through not knowing where you are. But frustration quickly leaks in remembering if you did return to the surface, what life could you be able to find there? 

You dig your feet into the lush grass and try not to let poisonous annoyance overwhelm you.

“You look lost in thought.”

Gojo’s voice flutters in. Then his shadow falls over you. You don’t even have to glance your head up because the king of the underworld casually sits down beside you. 

“Haven’t figured anything out yet huh?” He asks and you shake your head a quiet no.

“That’s okay. There’s no need to feel pressured or get upset about it. It’s a big decision, trying to figure out what path you want your life to take.”

You never expected him to be this comforting.

“Besides, it’s not often I get visitors here. So I’m enjoying your company as long as I can, petals.” A grin spreads across Gojo’s face as wide as a sunrise.

All you can do is yank up some of the grass and playfully throw it at him.

He laughs a bright snicker but you notice something very quickly. The grass never fully hits him. The slight distortion peaks your curiosity and you go to do it again.

“If this is your form of attack then I can only imagine how terrifying you’d be in battle.” Gojo teases but you pay him no mind because the grass again does nothing. It falls short from hitting him as if he’s protected by something.

Completely ignoring his comment, you ask him about the strange occurrence.

You appreciate how comfortable you’ve become here and with the god of the underworld to now ask such questions. The king’s lips twitch.

“What exactly have you heard about me?”

A strange question but one with a layered answer. Simply put, he’s the ruler of the underworld, considered the strongest of all the immortals. 

When your mother had told you stories of the titan war, she never failed to mention the power the ruler of the netherworld held. And there is one image tied to him you remembered vividly.

“A helmet, I heard you wrote a helm that gave you immense power.” 

The entire time here your mind has thought too much about the helm. You wondered what it looked like. What was more dangerous though was the curiosity, the desire, to see what he would look like wearing it. 

Gojo’s face blooms with a toothy smile.

“It’s…not technically a helmet.”

Then the god playfully points at the blindfold across his eyes. 

The grand helm has been in front of you this entire time and you didn’t even know. Of course he wore it constantly. 

“That’s incredible.” You can’t help but fully admire the black cloth now. To think something as simple as this cloth was so strong to be considered a war helmet, it amazes you. 

“I heard it made you invisible though. I remember asking about it!” You blurt out. That was another legend you heard about from a few of the nymphs.

“Oh? So you’ve asked about me, petals?” Gojo smirks slyly and your face heats up. Carnations rapidly blooming start to tickle your ankles and you immediately squish them. 

“You know, I’ve always wondered where that rumor came from.” He hums, thoughtfully. “But no. I don’t have powers of invisibility. Instead I have something way more impressive.”

Pride swiftly leaks into his voice and flourishes more when his chest visibly puffs up. The vivid image of a colorful squawking peacock flashes in your mind and you almost snicker until Gojo raises his hand up.

“Hold your hand out for me please.” His voice drops lower and the tone jolts your heart. You wearily lift your hand up. 

Gojo presses his hand against yours. Your heart beats faster, rivaling a humming bird’s wings, and you wait for the impact.

It comes. However, Gojo’s hand applies no actual pressure. You don’t touch his skin or brush against his fingers. Instead only liminal space floats between. The barrier can’t be more than a hair width away yet feels as if it’s oceans wide. 

“What is it?” You ask breathless and intrigued.

“Infinity.”

Gojo explains how the helm, his powers, rely on the eternal force that is infinity. Everything repeats. Everything can be continued into an unbreakable cycle, the purest form of infinity. 

“And what is more infinite than death? Even universes are born and die.” He speaks with an ancient patience. But, you swear you catch an underlying sadness in his voice just out of your reach. Or maybe it is just your own sadness that you were facing as you realized the weight upon Gojo’s shoulders. 

He exists as the personified infinity of death’s cycle continuing over and over again and someone must watch over it. He is unable to step free from that cycle because he is it. 

“You look so sad, petals. What? Am I boring you?” Suddenly Gojo’s jovial voice shatters your thoughts.

The black cloth hiding his eyes holds more weight than it did moments before.

Then you notice none has pulled their hands away, neither your or him. No one makes an attempt to move even now. You simply sit there with the space of infinity resting solid, unwavering, against you and Gojo just out of reach. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧

In the underworld, monotony can creep in easily. You find even after browsing all of Lady Utahime’s interesting collection of spells and curses, you grow restless. 

“If you ever get bored,” Gojo previously told you. “You’re more than welcome to join me in the throne room.”

You had only seen the throne room during the first grand tour Gojo took you on. Now you stare at the throne room’s grand doors petrified to even open them.

“Why don’t you go inside? He would enjoy your company.”

Shoko’s calm sweet voice makes you almost bolt like a skittish deer. Caught red handed and the goddess of death sleepily smiles.

“Oh no. I couldn’t!” You sputter out. 

For some reason, the thought of seeing Gojo on his throne, in his role as king of the underworld flickers something hot to boil under your skin. Shoko’s curious gaze burns a hole in the side of your face.

The goddess gives you a soft nod then continues her walk down the hallway. 

“You know, there’s a hidden alcove above the throne room that can be accessed from the stairs…just a thought.” Shoko muses aloud glancing over her shoulder with twinkling amused eyes. Then the goddess turns a corner and leaves you alone with her words rattling in your brain. 

Were you going to watch Gojo from the shadows?

Before you could even rationalize your thoughts you move quietly up the stairs until you reach your destination. 

The alcove is a type of balcony obscured by the columns towering in the throne room. The view from high up grants you a wonderful sight of the entire room composed of marble and crystal. Instead of the imposing grand ruler you imagined sitting regally composed on his throne, the white haired god is sprawled half lying across the large throne. For some reason you’re reminded of a lounging lethargic cat and you bite your cheek from laughing. 

Gojo stays reclining for some time. Eventually he does pull a scroll out from beside his throne and glances it over. At first you thought he appeared bored. But now as he sighs and flops to the other side of the throne childishly, you now think -

He looks lonely.

Even among the walls gleaming of the riches soaked in this realm, this incredibly boisterous immortal seems lonely. You even notice a hollow air rests in the room and reminds you of a day in winter when the earth seems frozen.

Then a giggle comes. 

You wonder if maybe you misheard it. That is until a child quickly peeks from behind a column. The little girl pops out a bit more before returning to hiding.

Very quickly she scurries to a column closer to the throne. 

Your eyes flicker to Gojo who continues overlooking the scroll on his lap.

The girl begins to tip toe closer and closer to the throne. You now wonder how the king will react. She seems gleeful, unafraid of him. Especially as she approaches with the proudest toothy grin on her sweet face.  

Then Gojo whips around to her.

“GOT YOU!” He shrieks proudly and even points at her accusingly. She jumps like a scared little rabbit until she hunches over laughing. Her joy fills the throne room with so much warmth you find yourself smiling at the interaction. 

“I got closer this time!” The girl stomps pouting and her face puffs up adorably.

“You did! I have to give you credit for that Rika.” Gojo addresses the girl with a delighted friendliness.

“I’ll get you next time!” The girl, Rika, announces sternly as her face furrows determined. 

“I believe you.” Gojo nods and you even believe him. 

The girl narrows her eyes harder at the king but then she quickly giggles. 

“Why don’t you go back and play in the fields, Rika? It's much nicer than playing around here in this boring place. Trust me I don’t even enjoy being here sometimes.” 

They both share a giggle and Rika beams up at him so kindly.

A molten smile draws over Gojo’s face and your heart melts. Softness, gentless, looks wonderful, beautiful even, on his handsome features.

“Alright you little pest, head back to the fields you go.” He playfully shoo’s Rika away with a dismissive wave and she sticks her tongue out at him.

Turning on her heels, you watch Rika slowly fade into the air. A sadness settles over you knowing this young girl passed away so young. But, it comforts you seeing how joyous and bubbly she is even in the afterlife. 

Then, it slowly dawns on you. 

The lord of the underworld is not the terrifying monster whispered to be. He is a silly terror, a bit eccentric, but a kind man. 

Your eyes glaze over staring at nothing in particular and you decide to leave as well.

As you rise from your little secret perch a shadow looms across you. Glancing up, the lord of the underworld towers grins down disgustingly victorious.

“Well now, aren’t you just the sneakiest little weed I’ve ever seen!” 

His comment pulls an indignant shriek out of you as you scramble up. Your face is on fire and you storm away in fast rapid stomps.

Gojo follows fast behind laughing so loud it bounces off the walls and echoes among the throne room. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧

Days come when tears sting your eyes thinking about the surface. You do miss your mother. 

You miss the feeling of the sun on your face, the breeze of autumn fluttering in for the change of the season. You can’t even remember how many days have passed since your arrival in the underworld. 

But even thinking about returning to the surface terrifies you stiff. It makes your stomach turn because you know your answer to what lies above. 

You don’t want to be in an arranged marriage and you don’t want to be locked to your mother’s side. There was no middle way, or other option between these two.

You stay in your room for a few days, wiping away the tears.

Eventually out of your clouded haze a soft knock arrives at your door.

Gojo waits on the other side. You don’t like how effortlessly your heart jumps seeing his tall stature leaning against the door, a striking ink stain with his black robes. His lips are a small but sad crooked grin.

“Can I show you something?”

You wordlessly nod and follow his lead. He doesn’t press you about your sudden cloistering. He doesn’t try filling the space with talk. You’re grateful in the silence that he understands.

Through different corridors of the castle this area feels unfamiliar and a spark of curiosity flickers in you. Then Gojo stops.  

There in the shade of the hallways, a secluded large square open area is before your eyes. The area seems out of place carved out from the marble and gem walkways 

“What is it?” You feel a bit foolish asking.

Gojo grins wide beside you. “Why don’t you go and find out?”

You give him an incredulous and worried look. This could be a playful trick. Utahime had warned you how notorious the lord of the underworld was at playing surprise tricks which included hiding behind corners to scare anyone passing by. 

“I promise, you’ll like it.” Gojo however reassures you with a gentle earnestness. So with a sigh you walk and step into the patch.

Beneath you is actual soil. It’s soft, smells of comfort and you can’t help it, a watery laugh escapes you. How long has it been since you felt the earth above?

Even since you visited the Elysian Fields, you discovered an ominous truth about your favorite spot. 

“Nothing can grow there.” Utahime told you sadly. “While everything is lush and beautiful and cannot die. However, nothing can grow as well.”

But you remembered the carnations. You knew they bloomed when you were there and you revealed that to Utahime.

Her lovely face scrunched up in wise thought and her eyes became distant.

“Unfortunately it could have just been a simple fluke. The Elysian Fields are meant to be a place of peace. Maybe it was trying to comfort you as well… let you feel some sort of semblance of the surface world.”

The thought was comforting but also carried an ocean abyss of sadness. Understanding nothing could grow here in this world made sense.

But now you sat on solid soil, true soil from above.

You scramble to your knees and can’t help but dig your hands through it. The cushiony familiar texture, the smell that has been with you since you were a sapling. Tears threaten to cloud your vision.

Turning around, Gojo is there leaning against the hallway’s frame and beaming bright like a marigold.

“How?!” You ask breathlessly, unable to still process this.

“I have my ways.” Gojo coyly replies. More questions only rise in you but you quietly set them aside.

“Utahime said nothing could grow here.” 

“Hm…that is true. But, why not give it a try?” Curiosity oozes out of him. 

So you decide, why not. With your hands in the soil you inhale and the magic in your veins flickers to life.

You clutch the dirt tight in your grasp as if trying to hang on to this last sense of who you are.

Out of the earth. a small green sprout suddenly peeks out. 

Absolute excitement and giddiness unfolds in you like a wild hurricane. You can’t help but snap your face back to Gojo in pure joy.

A wide open and even a bit proud smile illuminates his handsome face.

“Well look at you, petals! Nice work. Although I was expecting a tree or something, that little thing is nice I guess!”

You playfully throw a handful of dirt at him. It’s childish but it’s the only way you can fight the fondness growing in you, a festering weed you don’t know if you want to eradicate. 

Gojo breaks out in amused cackles. His cheeks puff up and you can almost sense the amusement in his covered eyes.

“I’ll let you enjoy.” He pushes off the hallway frame and is about to turn around when you quickly call to him

“Wait.” 

He freezes and glances over his shoulder. 

You have to ask. “Why did you do this?” 

Now the god of the underworld fully turns his attention back to you. 

“Do what?” 

You sigh exhausted at his innocently coy reply.

“Why did you do this? Give me this plot of land?”

Gojo’s lips, which you have been alarmingly thinking about more, turn into an eased crooked smile. 

“It’s a gift. You’re my guest here and my friend. So why not?” He replies anticlimactic, even shrugs. 

The answer is not satisfying and it slightly irritates you. But you’re still grateful. You might not know the true reason why he did this and might not ever know. But Gojo still did this for you all the same. 

So gathering that gratitude you smile at him, a true earnest one. 

“Whatever the reason is…Thank you, Gojo.”

This is the first time you say his name. Just the taste of it in your mouth leaves a strange tingle. 

The ruler of the underworld’s face. It drops so fast that you barely catch it. But it was there. A look of pure surprise, confusion and something else you can not pinpoint. But all of that quickly vanished only to be replaced by a smile radiating artificiality. Then Gojo vanishes.

In this new space, you exhale against the new weight building in your chest. Leaves then begin tickling your hands and you glance down at your new blooms.

Pure confusion strikes because this is actually a brand new bloom.

You’ve never seen this flower before.

Delicate cotton white star-like flowers greet you and you’re afraid to even touch them. So many of them cluster around each other in rather tall stalks. They remind you of lilies in their shape but are smaller and have a fragility to their thin petals.

You stare at the blooms slowly filling out the area around you until you are completely surrounded.

Horror strikes you fast. 

The cloudy white petals match the white hair of the lord of the underworld. 

Unknown to you, as you sit frozen among your new flowers, wheat fields decay above on the surface.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧

As much of a king and ruler he is, boredom plagues Gojo most of the time. It doesn’t surprise you one bit. 

He pesters you constantly in your garden now. Currently you threaten to grow Venus fly traps large enough to eat him.

“You know, I’d actually be interested to see that.” He muses light and you hate that the thought of creating such a thing has you curious as well.

Gojo and you exchange a glance. Soon enough a large Venus fly trap stands around the same height as the god.

“It’s huge!” He cries impressively and pride flutters through your chest. 

Then the underworld's king sticks his whole head inside the opening mouth of the Venus flytrap and waves his hands with the brightest expression. 

You scream in panic and Gojo cackles beyond entertained. He thankfully removes his head. It’s perfect timing as the plant’s prickly mouth snaps itself shut. 

You are horrified but Gojo just continues to laugh. 

He opens the plant’s mouth and starts moving it. Changing his voice to a high pitched tone, he begins talking as if he’s the plant itself in some sort of bizarre performance. 

“I beg your garden?!” He shrieks in an absurd voice.

It’s ridiculous, unbelievable and you can’t help it. You burst into wild giggles that shake your body. You have laughed more in his company than you can even remember. You’re having true fun with him in a way that you can’t even remember experiencing with your old companions.

You remember previously noticing how lonely the god of death looked and it only made you wonder how you’ve also tasted loneliness. Always stuck to your mother’s side, living in her shadow, it grew lonely there. 

“Don’t laugh at me! Just wanna have fun, be-leaf me!” Gojo continues in that shrill tone. 

Now here you are laughing in pure fun at his antics.

Gojo quickly drops the performance and immediately asks you to make a lotus as small as a clover. It’s tricky but when the flower unfurls a tiny lovely blossom in the palm of your hand, Gojo cheers.

Then you start thinking of jacaranda trees the size of bonsai. With a furrowed concentration you form a beautiful miniature tree. The lovely violet blooms even so small color the area exquisitely. 

“You’re incredible.” He breathes out the words and they almost sound in awe. 

You try not to get flustered but it is hard with his attention so intently focused on you. Instead you wave your hand out. Playfully a bunch of cherry blossoms nearby rapidly swirl in a whirlwind of petals all around him

Gojo shouts an amused ecstatic cheer, flinging his hands up among the petals. You snicker even more. 

It becomes a game. Gojo offers new plant ideas or to grow vegetation he never knew existed. His face genuinely scrunches up at the odd smelling plants you call forth and you snicker pleased at his reactions.

Eventually you take a seat and start to make a few flower crowns. One particularly is for the young girl you saw in the throne room, Rika, and who you’ve caught now a few times peeking at you from around the palace columns.

No surprise but the lord of the underworld takes a seat right by your side. 

“A flower crown huh… You know, you never made the one I asked for when we first met.” He comments with the worst pout. 

Of course he remembers that. You had even forgotten about that meeting by the riverbank. 

You scan around looking for something to use until you spot the perfect crown. 

Reaching to a nearby shrub, you break off a bare small twig. You regally place it on top of Gojo’s head.

“Aw!” His deflated reaction, seeing this powerful god with a simple twig on his head, has you snickering. Then you realize Gojo stopped his infinity barrier for you to place it on him. 

You don’t even want to linger on that thought. So violently shoving it away, you continue braiding the flowers. You concentrate hard, even scrunch your face as you weave in lily stems. 

A delicate but soft crawling sensation suddenly dances across your leg. The culprit is a branch from a leatherleaf fern Gojo has plucked. You wiggle away in a panic.

He again drags the delicate green leaves to playfully tickle you and try squirming away from him as much as you can. An urge to even hiss at him rises. 

“What?! Are you ticklish, petals!?” Gojo beams with excitement. 

“No, you’re just annoying!” You reply sharply trying to stay calm. 

The king however is patient and stubborn. Instead of relenting he wiggles the fern’s large leaves firmer across your arms then to your shoulder where it meets your neck.

You squeal, laughing so unattractive as you wiggle away with all your might to flee from his playful torment. You can’t even chide him to stop, too caught up in the wild infectious giddiness taking over. 

Your body buckles under the ministrations very slowly until your back rests on the solid soil ground. Your eyes snap open.

There, the god of the underworld leans over you.

Gojo is handsome. You knew that from the first moment you saw him. But now you take in how wide his shoulders are, how celestially white his hair glows, and how compromising, as well as dangerous, this position is.

Your mind had started drifting more and more towards deeply temptatious thoughts of him. Thinking of how your hands would grasp his broad shoulders, wondering how his body without any barriers would feel pressed over you. 

A dizzying fire licks through your veins. Gojo finally stops his tickling bombardment and now stares down at you. Even without seeing his eyes they pierce you with a hypnotic pull.

A moment passes or maybe a millennial has. Time ticks by too molten to process.

You want him. You hate how badly you want this infuriating man. You hate thinking about how easy it would be to lean up and kiss him. As tempting as that idea is, how much it consumes you, you remember a heavy truth. If your lips leaned up to kiss him you would only find infinity.

Before anything else can be said or done you rapidly spring up from the soil like a new bud. You say nothing. Neither does Gojo. Quickly you return to braiding your poor discarded flower crown. He remains quiet long enough you wonder if maybe he left your side quietly. 

Until the ground shifts besides you as Gojo moves to stand. 

“Don’t let the plants eat you, petals. You wouldn’t make good fertilizer.” 

You can’t even find a quick retort to shoot back at him. 

When you reach for a few roses to add their lovely color to the floral wreath, you wince. A sharp prickling sensation stabs your fingers.

Drawing your hand back you see your golden blood, the ichor of an immortal, dripping down your fingers.

Suddenly an image flashes wild and frantic in your mind.

Gojo appearing before you suddenly. He inspects your wounded hand. Instead of applying a wrap or even allowing you to heal with time as all immortals can, he delicately places your bleeding fingers into his mouth. He sucks on them gently and fierce. His tongue swipes against your wound, against the blood. He moans, loud, debauched, and it mixes with the wet slurps. He sucks and sucks without any desire to stop. His tongue fondly runs up again along your fingers. The pressure of his mouth, the warmth of it, letting yourself bravely trace his teeth, then feeling him playfully bite your skin… 

You scramble out of your thoughts as a slick liquid heat pools between your legs. Grabbing your flower crown, you storm off to your room praying to flee from the god of the underworld haunting you. 

But you know it is hard, almost impossible, to outrun and hide from a god. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧

“I have to leave for a few days.” Gojo explains as he sits besides you in the garden.

The garden has now become a lush oasis for you. Various ferns happily grow to one side. A few fruit trees already take root and grow steadily. So many flowers sprinkle beautiful clusters of colors all across the space. 

Of course your new white flowers continue to bloom patiently and delicately. Wherever you turn, so many seem to pop up. It's to the point even Gojo made a comment upon seeing the new florals.

“Oh? These look new.” You ignored his curious comment. 

Now you ask about his trip with the same curiosity.

“Leaving? What for?” 

A pause comes. 

“Unfortunately there’s been a recent increase in the amount of newcomers arriving in our realm.”

You don’t miss the way your heart jumps hearing him say “our realm.” The main issue at hand however has you concerned.

“Do you think it’s a sudden war? Or a natural catastrophe?” Your heart twists thinking about either terrible possibility. 

“Don’t know. That’s why I’m heading up to figure it out.” Gojo sighs. 

You nod understandingly and sympathetically to Gojo. Even with his eyes covered, his gaze seems to stare somewhere far away. Then he quickly averts his attention to the budding trees you’re tending to.

“This one seems to be doing great here.” Gojo notes curiously. He leans closer to you, a pressure softly pushing against you. Any giddiness of having him so close is quieted by the truth that it’s infinity against you. 

“It is.” You agree happily. “Pomegranate trees are resilient. They just need the right soil and can bloom with much worry. They even can handle different types of pests.”

Gojo hums a curious thing.

“Sounds a little familiar, don’t you think?” He comments but his voice is deep, low. Hearing his tone this way sparks a dangerous desire to life and it drags its claws down your spine. 

“Familiar how?” You hesitantly ask.

Something gentle, barely with the lightest of pressures, runs across the back of your hand. You think it might be his fingertips. Your body reacts, galvanized in a frenzy. But when you whip your head to the side, the king is gone. 

As you sit alone in your garden, you almost scream.

When the time comes to bid Gojo farewell, you now wonder how you’ll handle truly being alone without him. 

“Don’t miss me too much, petals.” He teases and you roll your eyes.

“Please, I’m going to enjoy having this place all to myself.” You scoff. 

Gojo grins like a cat that’s caught a canary and then, he leaves without another word. 

In his absence you find, at first, you do enjoy the peaceful solitude. But that gets old quickly because stars above you do end up missing him.

You didn’t realize how much your existence here has now become so entrenched with Gojo’s. You miss the strolls you and him take. You miss his questions about the new blossoms growing. You even miss the way he playfully throws figs at you at dinner while you sit not eating a single bite. It has become not just a friendship with the underworld’s god but a true deep bond with him.

“Can you stop with the wistful sighing please?” Utahime sternly asks as you lounge in her study.

“I’m not wistfully sighing!” You stammer out embarassed.

“Uh huh.” She does not seem convinced but also does not press the subject further. The goddess of magic instead stays completely focused on her piles of scrolls scattering her area.

The underworld seemed to be slowly constricting around itself. A tension tightened the air. Everyone, even Shoko, seemed scarce and occupied. Whatever was occurring above on the surface was greatly impacting this world.

You decide to leave Utahime to her devices and slip away quietly.

Now you wander the edge of the royal grounds. Your eyes scan the realm stretching out before you. There, like a lantern among the darkness, the fluttering flickering red light of Tartarus shines unwavering. 

It is the last place that you have yet explored.

You remember Gojo’s rule, his warning about not going to it

However, a small twinkle inside you even feels as if it’s being drawn there by a soft gentle pull. 

You could just walk and see it from the outside, not  even enter its gates. No harm would come from just inspecting the grand prison from a closer distance right? 

Before you can stop yourself your feet guide you across the river’s path to the other side.

The atmosphere distorts into something sinister like the way the air hollows out before a terrifying storm. 

Soon the crystalized rocks become jagged spikes. A smell of sulfur fills your senses and a wave of heat begins to tickle your skin. Soon the glowing red is now a vibrant bleeding sun before your eyes. 

You dare not step any closer. 

Terror slowly claws over your body. This is as close as you will get and will ever get. You turn around to walk back. 

“…Little flower…” a soft raspy voice sends a horrifying chill up your back.

Your head snaps to the side. A creature unravels from the bottom of a rock and stares up at you with tree branches like eyes.

A cursed soul.

Something now besides the creature wiggles from the ground. It morphs and shifts from a clay like structure to take the shape of man. He reminds you of a patch quilt and his body screams that he too is another cursed soul.

“You are far away from home, little goddess.” The curse coos.

You can’t even speak as fear chokes your throat.

Move, you have to move! Something inside you screams. It sounds almost like Gojo. 

Before you can move, hands, or maybe branches of some sorts, suddenly snap around your legs and yank you back. A scream escapes you or maybe you believe you hear a scream.

Everything happens fast. Your body is dragged and pulled closer to the prison. Laughter cackles sinisterly all around you and you thrash as much as you can. Tears clog your eyes. You wonder if this is it, if this will be how your end greets you. You swat at anything you can reach, but the panic is rising more and more.

Then a blinding heat sears under your palms.

You can’t help it, your eyes squeeze shut and your hands feel as if they have exploded. 

Then the pressure is gone from across your body. Your eyes, water soaked with tears,

Your eyes open and you find you are free. No more decayed limbs and branches on your body.

You scramble up as best as you can. Your legs however give out from the amount of wounds sliced across you. You try to heal as quickly as you can but being around such sinister evil for so long has drained you. 

Suddenly something rushes besides you and you are too late to react. The patchwork creature jumps on you. With a gleeful monstrous smile he morphs into like a cage claw against your body and has you in his grasp. 

You scream but you can’t even hear it over the horrifying laughter. You thrash, try to free yourself again, but your body grows too exhausted to even move. Your vision begins blurring.

Then another scream of anguish comes but you can’t even process what or who it is.

Your body is released. You pitch forward, unable to hold yourself up anymore. Then someone catches you. 

“Petals.” Gojo’s voice rings panicked in your ears. You wonder if he is a figment of your imagination.  Before you can even focus, your vision gives out and you fade into oblivion. 

The next thing you know, you wake up in the comfort of the softest sheets and a place that is not your quarters. 

When you come into consciousness and see the grandness of the room, the dark shade of the walls, you piece together quickly this is Gojo’s bedchamber.

A new type of panic grips your heart and you scramble up.

“Careful, careful!” Suddenly the man himself reprimands you in a quick panic. Gojo sits up from his chair beside the bed. Whatever emotion lies in your eyes freezes him from approaching you. 

“What happened?” You ask in a small whisper. You wonder if it was all a nightmare, a terror fueled fever dream.

“I found you in Tartarus.” Gojo replies. This is the first time his voice has sounded this upset. His face darts away from you.

“What were you thinking? What were you even doing there?” His voice is sharp as a blade’s edge and it cuts you swiftly.

Your reason now sounds so childish. 

There have been multiple times when you rolled your eyes at Gojo’s antics. You believed him to be a fool, a childish king who has not grown up, a result of being alone for so long here in this realm. But now you wonder if you are the foolish one. 

You croak out an apology that rips your heart open. Squeezing your eyes shut you try to stop the tears from coming but it’s no use.

“I just…I just wanted to see. It was…it was something you wouldn’t understand. I’m sorry.” You apologize again. A poisonous frustration and anger at yourself for being so foolish fills you. If you had only listened. 

Suddenly a hand rests gently on top of yours. No barrier, no infinity. Just Gojo’s soft larger hand enfolding yours. It’s warmer than you expected.

Gojo does not yell, doesn’t even say anything else. He simply sits besides you staring so concerned but understandingly. You squeeze his hand and more tears form rivers down your face. 

The underworld’s king stays by your side the entire time. 

Right before you fall asleep, still in the king’s bedchamber, you swear the most delicate and tender touch runs across your face.  

Once you are healed Gojo, holding your hand, takes you back to Tartarus. 

“I should have showed this place before.” He explains quietly. “I could have only imagined your curiosity.” 

You try to focus on his voice but it is hard when you try to process what lies before you.

“Wait…Are you sure we’re at Tartarus?” 

“Uh…yes?” Gojo replies a bit confused but you are more confused than he is. Because there is no possible way this could be the same place. 

The same burning furious fiery glow is now a simple flicker of a flame like a dwindling candle. All the rocks and sharp spikes have been crushed and leveled into debris cluttering the whole area. The air even holds a haunting stillness. This reminds you of a forest after a fire, a quiet entombment that spoke of a tremendous fury. Did he do this?

You realize as much as you want to know, you want to leave even more.

A squeeze of your hand is all you have to say before Gojo squeezes back. In a blink you and him are back at the palace’s main atrium. But a quest stands there waiting.

“Ijichi!” Gojo cries bright and happily.

Your eyes go wide.

The messenger of the gods. You had seen him in passing and even then you found him to be an uptight god. Now his face is hardened and upset. His keen eyes spot you and his mouth drops. 

Ijichi cries your name and something inside you falls. 

“What brings you here Ijichi?” Gojo asks with a twinkling curiosity.

“You know exactly why I’m here Gojo!”  The messenger snaps and a part of you wants to shrink away. But, another piece of you knows you can’t run anymore.

You know why the messenger is here. 

“I need to speak with you.” Ijichi urges with pleading eyes staring so intensely at you.

Reality weighs you down. You have to address this. You cannot keep hiding anymore.

So you let go of Gojo’s hand and you and Ijichi move to a private room.

You sit down ready to hear about your mother, about the urgency that you need to return to the surface world and face your fate.

But what comes to you instead plummets your entire soul. With a gentle but stern kindness tells you all that is happening.

Horror, dread, and all of their friends, fill your body.

The surface world is dying. Famine plagued the fields. Livestock is suffering. People are suffering.

All because of your actions.

Ijichi, bless him, is not accusatory, does not shame you or put blame. 

“You need to return home with me. I’m sorry.” The messenger urges but sympathy seeps out.

You don’t hesitate to nod yes as tears come in tidal waves.

There is not much to take with you. You say farewell to your garden, to the beautiful palace, to Utahime and Shoko who both hug you incredibly tight.

But when you go to say goodbye to the lord of this world, he is nowhere to be found.

You do not have to search long. He sits in his study. This the most you’ve ever seen him actually use it and look so dashingly studious, regal, at work. He completely ignores your entrance and does not even spare you a glance. 

“I’m leaving.” You announce. He stays silent.

You swallow hard and compose yourself.

“Thank you so much for letting me stay here for as long as I have. You’ve been a wonderful host.”

A wonderful friend. A wonderful companion, and maybe something even more wonderful, so fond and dangerous, you dare not speak its name.

He stays quiet and you are about to walk out of the door when suddenly Gojo’s hand grabs yours in a rapid grip. Your heart trips over a skipped beat from feeling his true hand clutching yours.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” He argues. 

“I have to go back. I have to face this.” You urge even though your voice wavers waterlogged.

“You don’t have to. We can figure this out.” 

He does not want you to go.

You even accept you don’t want to either. Not just because you fear the truth awaiting you, but because you’ve become terribly attached to this place, attached to him. 

At first you wanted to laugh it off as simply being stuck here and left with no choice but to just tolerate the god of the underworld. Instead you found you sought Gojo on your own more and more. You wanted to know him, not as a ruler of the eternal realm of death but as the man you learned hates pickled radish and loves any type of sweet treat.

You swallow hard and shake your head.

“I can’t keep running away.” You even surprise yourself at how firm, how solid and unwavering, your voice resonates.

Gojo’s hand releases yours. The air brews tense and thick. Then the god of the underworld lifts his blindfold up. 

Your heart stops.

Beautiful ocean blue eyes stare at you. Of course his eyes would be luminous pools.

You can’t speak, don’t know what to say. 

“Satoru…” he instead speaks first. “That's my true and first name... Thought you should know it before you leave.”

The gift he is presenting to you is immense. No mortals know the true name of your kind. Even you are addressed by a secondary name so tightly tied with your mothers. 

Now he is giving you this pure full piece of himself. His eyes, his name, his heart, all are pieces you tenderly lock away in your heart. They hold more precious value than any of the gems buried in this land. 

Before you can even reply Gojo leans forward.

With the most delicate of pressure, he kisses your forehead. Your eyes water but now for another emotion too grand to process while you drown in its waves.

He whispers out and says your name, your pure true name. He’s never said it before. 

Then he disappears. 

You swallow back a deep sob and return back to the atrium. 

Gojo is nowhere to be seen even when you head to  the stairs that lead back to the surface.

Before you leave, Utahime gives you one final hug then discreetly slips something into your hand. It’s a simple cloth with a sigil on it. You had seen her work on these types of spells many times and knew they all had various uses.

“Should you ever need us again or want to return, just use this.” She whispers low in your ear.

You clutch it tight, like a lifeline. When you go to give one final glance back to the underworld, the king is missing. You can’t find him anywhere and heartache clogs your throat. So you turn your back to the darkness and step into the light of the surface.

The smell of the air hits you first. The crisp scent of the dying leaves arrives in the brisk breeze. A barren earth stretches out before you and you walk into the desolation to meet your fate. 

The sky above is a clouded muted gray. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧

Your mother is furious, absolutely in a rage that would rival a tsunami. But thankfully with your return the earth flourishes overnight as if by a miracle. The lush green should be a comfort to you. The smell of the sunlight should elevate your spirit warm but instead you ache for the soft glow of the gemstone walls. 

“You have two choices.” She tells you sternly. “Either marry the immortal chosen for you or stay here with me.”

You stay quiet and she snaps out your name, a part of you wants to laugh because it sounds like a curse. 

“Answer me!” Your mother demands and you break.

“I dont want neither!” You cry back. “Can’t you see?! The reason I ran away to the actual place of death is because I cannot pick either! Because I don’t want to!”

“Could you truly be so selfish?!” Your mother accuses you with a seething venom.

Selfish. Were you being selfish? 

You once discussed this with Gojo because you had wondered many times if you were simply being a selfish brat running away from your problems. 

“I don’t think so.” He shrugged. “Isn’t it selfish of you mother to want to keep you beside her forever? Besides, if you are being selfish then who cares. Nobody realizes it’s actually okay to be somewhat selfish every once in a while, especially when you’re deciding what direction your life is going to take.” 

His voice becomes a soothing balm to your frustration. 

So you bare your soul and heart before your mother. You could never be happy being forced to wed another. Nor would you ever be satisfied staying stitched to your mother’s side. You need your freedom. You wanted and deserved to have your own choice away from those options. 

Her eyes flicker a kaleidoscope of emotions. She thankfully lets you speak the entire time without interruptions. When you are done, she gently walks forward and embraces you. You squeeze her tight.

“I’m sorry, my little sprout.” She comforts you. 

You exhale, relieved. 

“That damn monster of the underworld,” she says with a steady anger. “He filled your brain with nonsense.”

She pulls away and your face falls in horror. 

“Don’t worry. I already plan to discuss with Gakuganji a meaningful punishment for him.”

You cry out a plea to her. But she simply smiles and pats your cheek.

“You won’t have to worry about him or anything else ever again.” She affirms confidently

Your frustrated scream falls on an empty room as she leaves in the breeze of the wheat fields. Emotions bubble up in you so wildly that your head begins to throb. 

The panic clouds your vision. What will happen to Gojo? Why couldn’t your mother listen to you? Then an idea quietly emerges among the chaos. 

You remember the slip of cloth tucked away in the private corner of your chambers.

Before your mother could come back, before you can even fully think, you race to grab it. You trace your finger along the intricate ink and then close your eyes.

When you open them, you are in the underworld, back in your garden. 

It is as lush and beautiful as the day you left it except now the trees have grown in beautifully. Their shady leaves flourish against the marble and crystal. Your eyes land on the lone tree standing so firmly among the others.

The pomegranate tree flowers happily in full bloom filled with a fruitful harvest.

You remember the discussion you had with Gojo over these trees. You spoke of how resilient they were, and he quietly offered how familiar that sounded. The beautiful reddish violet fruit you now pluck so effortlessly from the branches you recognize is you.

You grew and flourished, gained a new sense of yourself. You carved out an existence here and bloomed into a new life. 

You act fast. With all your strength you smack the fruit against the bark of the tree. Thankfully it cracks open to reveal the glistening seeds inside.

A conversation you had with Gojo has been playing in your mind since you returned to the surface.

“Why can’t I eat anything here?” You asked the first time you joined him for dinner. 

“As tempting as these cakes are,” he grins, taking a large bite out of the sugary sweet. 

“Eating anything from here means…you’re pretty much stuck here forever, petals. And I don’t think a pretty bud yourself could handle that now could you?”

Those words echo more than ever as the pomegranate seeds stain your fingers.

You could handle it. In fact you want to embrace it. A life here, with Gojo. You knew the consequences awaiting you. A part of you even screams to stop.  

But you instead scoop out a handful of seeds and swallow them swiftly.

Their juicy delightful nectar fills your mouth. If this is being selfish, you think it has never tasted sweeter. You wait thinking there would be a reaction to doing this, to stealing yourself to this world. The only thing that comes is someone breathing out your name.

You snap your face to the side. There Gojo stands completely frozen.

His blindfold is missing. The ruler of the underworld now stares at you with his bare wide cerulean eyes that rival a field of bluebonnets.

“Petals…” Confliction strangles his voice and his eyes flicker to the pomegranate in your hand.

“What are you doing here? What did you do?” You don’t think you have ever heard him sound this confused and panicked.

“Satoru.” 

His name, it’s all you can say. It’s a prayer so beautiful you never want to stop saying it.

You blink and the king vanishes. Then he is before you. His hand clutches your face firm and he swoops down to kiss you.

You can’t help but whimper as your breath gets stolen from your lungs. You clutch onto the god tighter, desperate to get as close to him as you can. 

Under your touch infinity disappears. 

Satoru’s tongue slips effortlessly into your mouth and explores with a chaotic mess. You taste the same desperation he has mirroring your own.

He lifts you up effortlessly with one hand and it makes you squeak. Then, the two of you are whisked away.

When you arrive in his chambers a frantic edge is set ablaze as Satoru presses you against the cool wall of his room. He effortlessly grinds against you and another whimper leaves you to get caught against his lips.

You are drunk on the taste of him. You don’t even care how loud you pant because you are too afraid this moment could end at any moment.

Satoru starts to kiss the corner of your lips. He quirky nips sharp bites against your skin and your eyes close in bliss.

He kisses across your cheek, down your neck, alternating between kissing and softly biting. 

Then cool air tickles your bare kiss soaked neck and your eyes wearily open. 

Satoru is now on his knees.

His hands reverently run against your delicate robes. A meditative but possessive gleam darkens his eyes making them look like deep trenches.

He kisses your exposed thigh and you tug at his soft white hair. His rich cobalt eyes now flicker up to you.

You sigh out his name with a slight whine as you miss his lips against yours. 

“Shh...” he urges softly as he bites at your skin again harder. Your hips rise on their own accord. He chuckles deep and thick.

“Let me worship you.” He whispers with reverence with eyes drenched in delicious lust. It’s the last thing he says before his tongue suddenly licks an intent path up your thigh straight to your sex and you see stars.

Eventually he carries you to his grand bed where you now lie against him. 

Love drunk in the afterglow you can’t stop giggling at how Satoru continues to kiss any inch of your body. 

“You really are the terror of the underworld.” You snicker playfully.

“Oh of course. Can’t let you forget my reputation.” He beams proud as he kisses your fingertips once again. 

His chest is solid and warm under you as you rest against him. His heart beats like a beautiful strong drum you can rest your ear against and hear now. Instead you slide up higher to burrow your face against his neck. All of this is intoxicating and a gift you cherish. 

But even in the afterglow, the weight of this union settles over a grim cloud.

“My mother is going to set the world on fire.” You mutter soft and pained.

“No,” Satoru kisses the top of your head. “The old geezer upstairs won’t let her.”

A comforting in his own Gojo way and you snort amused for a moment. Against his warm solid neck Satoru only draws you closer to him. The two of you stay in bed for what feels like a millennia but still not enough.

You are about to slide out of the bed when the god of the underworld whines grabbing you back like a child refusing to let go of their favorite toy.

“I need to get ready.” You softly say as you run your fingers through his cloud white hair.

“No.” He pouts. “You’re stuck here with me forever now, petals.”

That is true. 

“I am, but you know I can’t avoid this.”

As you go to slip on the new beautiful robe that of course Satoru had ready for you, he blurts out-

“Marry me.”

Your knees almost give out. 

You screech out a confused noise and whip your attention back to him.

“Are you serious!?” 

“As serious are you were when you banged that poor pomegranate against a tree!” He fires back.

In a blink Satoru is suddenly holding you in one of his arms while the other cradles your face in his hands.

“Marry me.” He repeats again but this time his voice leans sincerity. “Let me annoy you for the rest of eternity by your side as your husband.”

You don’t hesitate. You pull his face towards you and kiss him desperate. The poor robe you slipped on is hastily yanked off and you are returned back to the cooling bed sheets.

“You know,” Satoru muses playfully as you rest again tangled up in his arms. “I never heard you say an official yes or no.”

You lift your head up and give him an incredulous glare.

“You can’t be serious, Satoru.”

“You’re right.” He softly beams down to you. “The amount of times I heard you screaming ‘Yes Satoru! Yes my love!’ was the best answer.”  

You grab the nearest discarded pillow and smack him with it. It fully collides against his too gorgeous face and he laughs at the collision. The tables turn when he swiftly snags the pillow from your hands and playfully retaliates. Your laughter and his bounce together so brightly in the room. It fills you with enough strength to finally face whatever fate awaits you. 

Your beloved headache of a fiancé reassures you with one soft kiss to your shoulder.

Before you can even step out of the palace, the surface world’s entrance cracks open. From the shadows you see your mother and then beside her is the god of the skies himself.

“Oh ho! Well now…this is going to be fun!” Satoru cackles with excitement.

“Hey, my darling soon to be wife,” he turns to ask you. Even with his eyes covered again you know  glee shines in them. “You want the old man’s head on a platter as an early wedding gift?!”

You almost choke on air. Of course you’re not the only one outraged at what he said.

Your mothers voice cracks the air with destructive anger 

“You’re engaged to this monster?!” Her eyes are blistering fires threatening to scorch you where you stand. You reply a solid yes without hesitation.

“Aw! I didn’t realize you liked me so much already, my dear mother in law!” Satoru coos. Your mother flat out ignores him as do you.

“This is prosperous! Outrageous!” The lord of the skies, Gakuganji, thunders in an outrage rivaling your mothers.

“She ate food from this world, and is so bound here.” Shoko explains with a steadied ease.

“There is now way you will survive here any longer!” She seethes at you. “You are not meant for this world!”

“Actually…” Suddenly the poised voice of the goddess of magic herself flutters into the room. With a steeled conviction, Utahime steps forward. She explains how she has been watching you ever since your arrival and noticed changes happening.

“Growth, new life has emerged here. We have all witnessed it. On top of that, I think being here has unlocked new abilities I don’t think we even thought were possible.” 

Powers?

“When you momentarily stopped those curses from Tartarus.” Gojo explains patiently as if he read your mind. Faintly you hear the horrified voice of your mother screaming Tartarus?! 

“I did that?” You ask stunned.

“Yup, you did.” Satoru beams, prouder than ever. 

“What is the meaning of this!?” Gakuganji demands.

“It means she can survive here. If anything it maybe even suggests she might have even been destined to be here.” Utahime replies steady.

Destined to be here.  

You think of the words she once told you, about how the underworld revealed truths about one’s self.

“Even with that possibility, you stay here and there will be no peace.” Gakuganji urges.

You know the suffering that could come. Your mother is a stubborn creature who would never relent.

For some reason, you think of the bleeding heart flower. You think of their stems and how distinctly the flower seems to be two parts blended together beautifully. Some of the petals even have to curl open for it to grow. So you decide to split your existence in half.

“For half the year I will be here, in the underworld with my husband.” The word rolls effortlessly off your tongue and it feels right, feels as if you have always said it. “And the other half will be on the surface. Equal time to each place.” 

Gakuganji hums a moment to consider.

“You cannot allow this!” Your mother pleads to the grand elder god. 

“No one can undo what has been done. The fruit has been eaten and she’s tied to this world.” Shoko clarifies simply. 

Satoru hums a playfully amused noise that makes you want to smack him upside the head. Instead you ask for the room to speak with your mother. Now it’s just you and her, as it has been for so many centuries. Except a canyon now stretches between you and her. She waits on the other side of it a vengeful fury.

“Did you do this to spite me?” Your mother asks pained. Exhaling exhausted, you shake your head.

“I did this because it’s my choice, and because I love him.” You tell her with a patience that even surprises you.  

“And that’s all I’ve wanted. Not to choose between what you wanted me to pick but instead make my own decision.”

“You…you cannot love the lord of the underworld.” She croaks with so many emotions tangled in her voice.

Your lips tug as if Satoru himself pinches your cheeks into a smile. 

“I’m sorry, but I can and I do.” Might be one of the hardest tasks you ever faced, but you would do it for all of infinity. 

Your mothers eyes scan over your face. The emotions in them seem endless, a bottomless well that you can’t even swim in.

“You’ve grown, my little sprout.” Her voice wistfully comments. The two of you simply stare at each other. 

After that she barely looks at you even after the others return.

The decision is made rather simply compared to the riotous calamity that preceded it. Six months with your mother and six months here. But of course, your mother declares your time on the surface begins now. Gakuganji agrees and your spirit pops.

Any moment of celebration, any hope of wanting to enjoy being here, decomposes in your chest. You gather yourself as best as you can.

“Can I at least say goodbye to my husband?” You ask.

“You are not even married yet.” Gakuganji sneers.

“We aren’t. But you could wed us right now and change that if you’d like, old man!” Satoru offers. The old god’s face crumbles up so disgusted you have to hold back a laugh.

Thankfully you’re allowed a moment of solitude with Satoru in his chambers. You embrace his tall frame and he holds you tight.

“My offer still stands. Just say the word and I’ll throw the old man in the one of rivers.” 

“Satoru please.” You sigh.

“What?! All I am saying is there is still time, I could easily throw him in. He wouldn’t even know what hit him.”

A small snicker does leave you as you shake your head no. 

“Fine.” Your soon to be husband sighs disappointed. 

“So much for an engagement announcement.” Gojo teases trying to soothe the moment with humor but a question about your sudden engagement has been weighing on your mind. You need to ask him before you leave.

Holding Satoru’s hand you gently lead him to the beautiful carved out window nook. When he sits completely flush besides you, you reach over to draw his blindfold away.

His eyes are oceans you never wish to leave. But you will have to. Every six months you will be away from this man who has burrowed a hole in your heart and made it his home.

“Why do you want to marry me?” You ask.

His eyes scrunch up slightly curious but also as if he doesn’t understand your question. 

“Because you’re my other half.”

That’s beautiful, but it’s not enough. You’re thankful Satoru senses that’s not the answer you wanted and he sighs dreamily. 

“That first time I saw you, do you remember?” He begins.

At Olympus, that seems like centuries ago now. 

“You had so many petals and leaves stuck in your hair. Yet, your face was so angry…like you could’ve ripped apart the mountain in half.” He explains fondly. “Now I have no doubt you could if you smack a fruit against it.”

“Hey,” you playfully laugh but it’s watery, soaked in disbelieving love.

“But you were incredible, this hilarious creature of both fury and flowers. I had never seen someone so beautiful.” Satoru adds 

His hands now have moved to encompass yours.

“Do you think we’re rushing into this?” You question.

“Do you think we are?” He mirrors it back to you.

A piece of you agreed this is rushed. But then the ache inside of you already dreading leaving this man speaks louder than your doubt.

“Look,” he speaks first. “My life has been the same for so long. Like I got stuck in my own infinity and then you came stomping in… ”

Satoru’s cerulean eyes fiercely flicker up to you and he stares unwavering.

“I’d tear apart the skies for you.” He says simply “You make my life brighter. You and your scrunched up annoyed face you always give me. Your laugh. The way you talk to all your planets like they can speak back-“

“Plants respond better to hearing voices.” you croak interrupting him.

“It helps them grow faster, yes I know.” He finishes for you so cheekily and your heart is about to float out of your body.

“So you really want to marry me?”

Satoru rolls his eyes at your question. 

“Petals, I wanted to marry you the moment you threatened to shove me in the River Styx during one of our morning strolls.”

You bark a watery laugh. “Don’t tempt me. I’d still do it.” 

The god of the underworld suddenly breathes out your name.

Tenderly Satoru leans forward and kisses you. You don’t care that your mother is waiting for you. You simply want to enjoy this slice of eternity for as long as you can. 

“I love you.” You whisper the words, a holy sigh, against his lips.

“That’s nice.” He muses. He’s lucky no throw cushions are nearby or else you would have smacked him. 

It dawns on you that this is the closest to a wedding you will get until you return. So you pull away from his lips and vow yourself to him. 

You vow to always roll your eyes and snap at him when he says something ridiculous. You vow to always now take the biggest bite out of his confectioneries even if he complains. You vow to be by his side until the cosmos collapses and even beyond that.  But mainly, you vow-

“That you never feel lonely for too long ever again, Satoru.” 

His eyes go wide, shimmering almost in awe. The king rushes forward and kisses you with a dizzying passion.

“We would make terrible marriage officiants.” He mutters against your lips.

“Who cares.” You scoff.

“Hm seems I’m rubbing off on you in many other ways, petals.”

You chide him for being crude and he snickers, your ridiculous husband.

“What a cute new queen you are.” 

Queen. By marriage, by love, you are a queen now. 

“Your crown is going to be a twig, like the one you placed on me that one time.” Satoru grins playfully.

“As long as you match with me.”

He laughs so freely and it’s beautiful. 

The thought of being a ruler, a monarch, for some reason does not scare you. You thought it would. Instead it only comforts you knowing the king who would be beside you is Satoru. 

This joyous bubble however deflates as you return to your mother. This would be it. This is your goodbye until six months from now. But even among the heartbreak, a wave of reassurance washes over you. Because it is just six months. Compared to a lifetime without Satoru, six months is a simple breeze.

Once again you bid goodbye to Utahime, to Shoko, both embrace you tighter than ever. After all, you are one of their own now. And your husband, your poor Satoru, now wears the most obnoxious teary face that makes you want to flat out walk away from him. 

But of course you embrace and kiss your king softly.

“You better not kill my garden.” You warn against his tender lips.

“No promises.” He smiles. 

As you’re about to start your journey, Satoru wails dramatically.

“One last kiss to remember me by!” Then making a  horrendous kissing-like sound, he rushes to your side. You effortlessly hold your hand out to stop his face from reaching you. He weeps horrified while Shoko and Utahime kneel over laughing in unison.

You’re amused at his antics but among the hilarity, Satoru leans into your palm. Gently he tilts his face and leaves a soft kiss on the palm of your hand. 

It grants you tremendous strength to start your journey. 

As you reach the edge of the stairs, so close you can almost taste the sunlight, you turn around. The last time you did this, Satoru was nowhere to be found. Now he stands at the very edge of the bottom of the walkway.  

A moment passes. It is just you and him staring at each other. You’re tempted to run back to him one final time. But you can’t. You inhale a deep resolve and Gojo looks on proudly as he nods.

“I’ll see you soon, petals.” His voice is low but you hear it, clear as day, even from the top step. You nod back, not trusting your own voice to reply.

His words give you the push to reach the surface.

The morning breeze tenderly greets you first. Your legs feel like they can give out from all the emotions rushing through your body. So you look down to focus on where you step.

There among the lush green grass your white underworld flowers already sprout below you. Your lips twitch trying to hold back a tearful laugh.

Glancing up you see the grandest blue sky stretching far and wide. 

You’ve always loved the sky. 

Except now your breath hitches at the sight. 

Because the color above is the same captured and crystallized in your husband’s eyes.

In the endless blue you find a new reassurance about the growth waiting for you in this new life. You also think of Satoru waiting for you as well. With the open sky now a welcoming blessing, you walk confidently into this new life.

With every step you leave behind delicate cloud-white underworld flowers blooming beautifully among the grass. 

[herarcadewasteland]

Stolen Glances

A/N: Because of @shinestarhwaa. Now, I dont write a lot of smut so bare with me but sans hands are just.... yeah.

----

SMUT MDNI 18+

-Choi San x afab!reader ft. seonghwa

warnings; fingering, choking, squirting, slight degradation (i think thats it)

Your relationship with San was solid. You trusted each other, you loved each other and you had so much fun together. Now, it’s not to say that your sex life with him was lacking, but you kept it pretty basic, his schedule too busy to allow for much exploration. But his hands. His gorgeous hands that flexed with every movement, the veins popping and begging for your attention when he moved. It was becoming a problem for you, your attention drawn by them constantly which led to San becoming concerned about your sudden lack of attention and zoning out. In truth, it wasn’t zoning out. It was you daydreaming of all the ways he could ruin you with just his hands. His thick fingers thrusting into you roughly, dancing along your clit or wrapping around your delicate throat, applying just enough pressure to make you lightheaded from lack of blood flow.

“Y/N??”, San waved his hand in front of your face.

Your eyes widened as you made eye contact with him, a question on your lips before he spoke up again.

“Are you okay? You were doing that… zoning out thing again…”

“Yeah, I’m okay! I just…”, you trailed off, your eyes wandering back to his hands as he itched his knee. 

“You don’t seem very okay… Seonghwa!” ,San suddenly shouts for his older member, footsteps thundering through the hall as Seonghwa swings around the door frame panting.

“What? What’s wrong? Who’s hurt? What broke?”, his eyes scanned the room frantically for anything broken. 

“Nothing is broken, calm down!”, San huffs, his arms crossing and drawing your attention to his hands as they curl over his biceps, “Y/N is acting weird. See? She’s doing it right now! She keeps staring into the fabric of the universe and it’s scary.”

Seonghwa heaves a sigh, his hand rubbing over his forehead, “I can’t do anything about that, Sannie. Just distract her.”

He leaves the room quickly, San sighing after him as he watches you zoned out. His arms uncross as he watches over you, your eyes following his hands. San makes an interested noise, noticing your gaze focused on his hands. He files the information away, reaching out to shake your shoulder.

“Oh… I’m sorry Sannie.. I must be really tired for some reason.”

He nods along with your excuses, leading you to bed gently where you fall asleep fairly fast. Even if you weren’t actually tired, you definitely needed your sleep. 

—-----------

The next morning was slow. San had a day off so he was able to lounge around with you in the apartment. Starting the day with a nice french press coffee sounded like heaven for the both of you, your messy hair endearing to San as he began to prep the coffee. Your eyes were drawn quickly to his hands, his veins more prominent than usual in your eyes as you rested your head on your hand. San noticed your staring again, a small smirk on his lips as he began to accentuate the smaller movements. Flexing his fingers, rubbing his palm slower when the muscles started to ache. It held your attention without fail, not even noticing San’s growing smirk or the dark look in his pretty eyes as he watched you watch his hands. An idea came to mind, his smirk reaching Hongjoong heights as he finished pressing the coffee. A soft throat clearing from him had your eyes snapping to his, a blush settling on your cheeks as you met his eyes. 

“Coffee is ready, love.”, he slid a cup over the counter to you slowly, watching as your eyes snapped back to his hands.

“Thank you Sannie~”, you hummed quietly, taking a careful sip of the coffee.

“How is it?”

“Oh my god this is so good, Sannie! You did such a good job.”, you practically moaned into the cup, taking another sip.

“Thanks, love. I’ve got to ask you something though.”, he turned in his chair to face you head on, his eyes holding yours captive.

“Of course, you can always ask me anything, you know that.”

“Mhm. Well… I’ve noticed your staring…”, your eyes widened as he smirked at you, “And now I can’t help but wonder, what’s got you so distracted by me, love?”

“Yo- I uh- It’s not-”

“Shhh shhh shhh. It’s okay, I find it quite flattering that you find my hands attractive enough to spend hours staring at them.”

You blushed harder, your face hot to the touch as you squirmed on the chair. If you had paid more attention to anything but his hands in your daydreams, maybe you wouldn’t be having to stutter out excuses to your boyfriend as he watched you with a smirk on his pretty lips. 

“Don’t worry, love. We can satisfy your little problem, can’t we?”, his hand crept from the counter to your shoulder slowly, your eyes struggling to stay on his as his fingers settled on the base of your neck. 

“Stand up for me, darling.”

You followed his instruction without hesitation, the weight of his hand comforting you as you stood in front of him, trembling. A slight squeeze from San had you whining, his eyes tracing your features slowly, taking in the blush and every detail he could of your face in that moment. He stood up soon after, his height dwarfing you and making you feel small as you stared up at him, his hand trailing to your shoulder where he gave you a slight shove. You moved easily, compliant under touch as he guided you to a wall. Another whimper escaped you, your hands resting on his broad shoulders as he lowered his head to place a line of kisses from your jaw and down your neck. Your eyes fell closed as you basked in the feeling of his soft lips on your skin, his hands trailing gently up and down your sides. 

“Look at you baby, all fuckable just for me.”

You whimpered at San’s words, your hands tugging his head up to push your lips together, his tongue swiping over your bottom lip before you let him in, fighting for dominance as his hands changed direction. His left hand trailed gently to your neck, his fingers wrapping around it as his right hand tugged down the cute panties you wore under his shirt. The kiss was intense, stealing the air straight from your lungs as San applied a small amount of pressure to your neck causing you to part from his addictive taste with a gasp. Your eyes rolled back, hands tugging at San’s mess of hair. His groan spurred you on, another tug to his soft locks and you were hoisted to wrap your legs around his waist, his hand tracing small patterns on the inside of your thigh as you squirmed in his hold. 

“You’re dripping, love. I can feel you already and I’m not even touching your pretty pussy.”

You moaned in frustration, hands tugging at his hair again until he chuckled and ran a finger up your slit slowly, collecting your juices to rub small, fast circles on your clit. 

“P-please Sannie, stop teasing!”

He cooed in mock sympathy, his finger slowing on the sensitive bundle of nerves to listen to your whines grow in volume until he thrusted one finger into your heat, a groan leaving his lips the same time you moaned. 

“That feel good, baby? Exactly like you were dreaming about? My fingers deep in your slutty pussy?”

You whined loudly, wrapping your legs around San’s waist tighter as he increased the pace of his finger. The hand around your neck tightened just enough to have you clenching on his finger, his pace slowing as you nearly trapped him in place. A chuckle escaping his pretty lips as he ran his thumb over your clit to relax you, your nails leaving crescents in his shoulders as you tipped your head back against the wall. 

“Awe are you close already, love?”, his teasing tone dangling you over the edge of your orgasm.

Nodding weakly against the wall, you opened your eyes to meet his lust filled gaze, the darkness hiding just behind it all as you held eye contact nearly sending you head first over the edge. You needed a little more, San’s finger teasing you right to the edge but holding you there. 

“Sannie please.. need more!”, you whimpered to your boyfriend, his eyes narrowing slightly as you dug your heels into the small of his back.

“Is that right? My poor baby can’t cum with just one of her boyfriend's fingers? You need more?”, his tone was condescending, tears springing to your eyes at the teasing tone of his voice and the edging he was unconsciously putting you through.

A small nod answered his questions, the gentle hand around your throat dropping to your hips as he slid another finger into you, your moans catching in your throat. San’s lips ran a feather-light path up your neck, his tongue leaving a small glistening trail on your skin. His cock pressed against the inside of your thigh, the weight of it making you whine and shift closer to him, your hands settling in his hair as he left marks down your neck. The wet sounds of your pussy echoed around the kitchen, a small logical part of your brain reminding you that San had roommates. The thought was quickly banished as San picked up his pace, the finger on your clit moving faster as he thrust his fingers into you rougher. The pleasure built with the volume of your moans, his grunts at the tugs you gave to his hair sending you over the edge finally as your eyes rolled back, legs tightening around his small waist as you spasmed around his fingers. Whispered praise in your ear registered slowly as you came down from your high, San’s finger running gently over the bundle of nerves to work you through your orgasm. 

“You did so good for me, baby hm? My good girl cumming so hard for me~”

San placed gentle kisses on your head as his fingers left you, your legs falling to the floor gently with his help as your vision returned to normal. The soft smile on San’s lips greeted you first, a flustered one taking over your own as you watched his gaze trail downwards to his pants. You followed curiously, a gasp leaving you as you took in the wet spot on the front of San’s gray sweatpants. 

“That was so hot, love. Next time you want my fingers though, all you have to do is ask.” 

You whined in embarrassment and slapped his chest gently, a blush reheating your face as he smirked. 

“You did not just fuck in my kitchen.”

San’s head snapped to the entry way of the kitchen with yours, Seonghwa’s disgusted gaze scanning your forms quickly before he glared at San. 

“We didn’t fuck!”, San rolled his eyes, “Just fingered her.”

Although mumbled, Seonghwa caught it and gasped in outrage, a slipper suddenly in his hand as he chased you and San from the room. Safe to say you would bring up any interests you had to San in the safety of his bedroom from now on.

[cottonlemonade]

Plan B [part 2]

word count: 1490 || avg. reading time: 6 mins.

pairing: post-time skip Kuroo x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

part 1 for context

Of course your staff had immediately informed you about the display from the day before when you came in the following morning. The barista even showed you a few snapshots he had taken with his phone and as much as you hated to admit it, you would have loved to have been there to see it in person. Pictures didn’t really do him justice, you thought. “Should I send those to you, manager?”, the barista asked with a knowing smirk. When you didn’t say anything but just stoically walked past him into the kitchen, you were glad when your phone buzzed a few seconds later and a small flood of pictures appeared in your chat. You cleared your throat and got to work.

Despite his regular appearances the last couple of weeks, the guy didn’t show up again the next day. Or even the day after that.

“Maybe he actually finally gave up?”, the waitress suggested with a shrug. She was counting the receipts while the barista helped you clean the espresso maker.

“I hope not. What else are we gonna do for entertainment around here?”

“How about your job.”, you suggested.

The barista let out a theatrical groan, which earned him a dish towel to the face.

At this point, a week had passed since the last time you saw the guy and although you found your thoughts wandering to his handsome smile every so often, you decided it was most likely for the better.

It was late in the evening and the café was closed for the day. The sky was gray and obviously brewing up something unpleasant so you wanted to make sure to send your team home as quickly as possible.

Soon enough, after hugs and waves goodbye, you locked the glass door from the inside and went to the kitchen to prep food for the next day.

You had just started to mash up a bowl of overripe bananas when a soft knocking made you look up and glance through the serving hatch.

The wind outside brushed past the shops with a low whistle and you could make out a very familiar shape in the dim light of the streetlamps.

More excited than you’d like to admit you made your way to the door.

“Sorry, I’m late.”, the guy’s voice was muffled through the glass.

You pointed to the Closed sign with a raised eyebrow. He put his hands together in a silent plea.

With a very big eye roll you grabbed the keys from your apron pocket and opened the door a handwidth.

“Hi.”

“Hey there.”

“I need a cake.”

“Goodbye.”, you closed the door again.

“Please!”, he called.

You shook your head and gestured to your ear to signal you couldn’t hear him.

He thought for a moment, then took out his phone and began to type something. A few seconds later he held the screen up against the glass.

Forgot to get cake for friend’s birthday.

You pulled a notepad from your belt and wrote “unfortunate” in response.

Low rumbling of thunder made you both look to the horizon. A few moments passed in which he threw you puppy dog eyes. You sighed loudly and unlocked the door again.

Not a minute too soon. With the click of the lock the first heavy raindrop hit the windowfront.

“Thank you.”, he said with a grateful smile.

“Don’t mention it. But you will have to live with what’s left of the day. The ones for tomorrow still need to be decorated.”

He followed you to the counter, having the decency to look apologetic as you waved him to come along further to check out the cakes in the fridge.

He chose a white chocolate cake with strawberries and you carried it back to the front to pack it up.

“How has your last week been?”, he asked as you worked.

“Uhm, I made my best cinnamon rolls yet and finally found my TV remote. So pretty good, I’d say. How about you?”

“Not as good as yours apparently. Pretty busy. I had to do some traveling and give a bunch of presentations. Sorry I couldn’t come by to bring up that counter you keep on the blackboard.”

You closed your eyes and made an indefinable noise. You'd have to talk to your staff about the concept of discretion.

“Technically, that means I owe you at least one.”

“Oh, please don’t.”

He swaggered closer and, leaning on the counter, considered you for a moment.

You held his gaze, expecting the worst.

“Wait, I… actually forgot what I wanted to say."

You tried not to smile but were betrayed by your pursed lips.

"Gotta be honest, of all your flirting so far that has been the best one."

He gave you a half smile.

"How about you don't see it as flirting. See it as me just being extra friendly to someone extra beautiful."

You scoffed but couldn’t stop a short sort of giggle escaping your lips.

After a moment’s pause he added, now with genuine sweetness, "Go out with me. Just once. I promise it'll be fun. And really, what's the worst that can happen?"

"Where do I even start?"

"Okay. But besides that, the worst that can happen is that we realize we don't have anything in common."

You looked at him, your head slightly tilted in thought.

"Like, what are you doing tonight after work?", he suggested.

"Well, I’m meeting some friends."

"What will you be doing?”

“A museum has a science night we wanna check out.”

“Oh! Really?”, he asked excitedly, dropping his flirtatious manner completely. And sure enough this little piece of information carried you through the subject of scientific fun facts to books to hobbies and so on. The rain had lessened significantly but an hour later he was still there, sitting on a chair at the kitchen island, talking while you worked, peppering in little compliments here and there but keeping it mostly pleasantly fluffy.

When you eventually parted in front of the café, Kuroo hesitated, obviously thinking about how to say Goodbye. In the end you both settled for slightly awkward smiles and went your separate ways.

He had an extra spring in his step as he arrived at the restaurant, incredibly late but incredibly happy. His friend accepted the cake with a tipsy, somewhat off-key belt of “Happy birthday to me!” and pointed to a free seat next to Kenma.

"Someone's looking chipper.", his former setter commented and accepted a slice of birthday cake, “Why did you leave me here alone?”

“You’re hardly alone, Kenma-kun.”, the older one said vaguely, "I had to pick up the cake first. I only remembered when I was already at work."

"So… is it from that little café?"

Kuroo shrugged, but was unable to hide a grin.

His friend lifted a brow. Originally, Kuroo hadn’t meant to talk about it. About how he didn't expect you two to actually have so much in common, about how funny you were, how smart and how gorgeous you looked even after a long day at work. How you practically made him beg to get into the café at all and how easy it was to talk to you once the ice was broken. It took him a few minutes to finally stop gushing.

"Sounds like a very promising night.", Kenma said approvingly, hoping he’d finally be free of his friend’s whining about why you wouldn’t go out with him, "So you got her number, then."

Kuroo's dreamy expression fell at once. "Oh.”

The sun glistened on the streets still soaked from last night’s rain but the air smelled fresh and you hummed to yourself when you thought about the previous evening. As you unlocked the cafe’s front door you heard someone calling your name and turned around.

Your stomach dropped when you spotted Kuroo on the other side of the road, waiting to cross safely.

“Good morning.”, he said, a little out of breath but with a winning smile.

“Good morning. What brings you by so early?”

“I have a full day today so I wouldn’t be able to come by otherwise.”

You tried hard not to look too pleased.

“I was wondering, if - I mean, I forgot to - Could I have your number?”

Pretending to think about it, you opened the door.

“Do you want that on a to-go cup?”

“That would be easier to brag with.”, he said, nodding thoughtfully and stepping in behind you.

While you prepared his usual, Kuroo watched you closely and you weren’t sure if the pink in his cheeks was from his jog here or something else.

When you handed him his tea a few minutes later he stood there, looking you up and down with his cheeky grin.

You squinted in suspicion.

“You look even cuter than usual today.”

“Get out before I charge you double.”

He lifted the cup and winked. “Talk to you later.”

[crazyyluvr]

heyy I've heard your requests are open! Could you do like a Jason Grace x gf reader where the reader has severe anger issues, but since Jason is rlly calm he is the only one who can handle her, and calm her down? I'm such a sucker for sunshine bf! X grumpy gf! trope haha

How to Anger a Demigod as a Horse 101

pairing: jason grace x gf!ares!reader

summary: in which you're very tempted to murder Hazel's magic (magically annoying) horse, but Jason's there to prevent that from happening.

genre: fluff, grumpy x sunshine (i think)

no particular place in the heroes of the olympus timeline, but they're on Argo II.

wc: 1.2k

warning/s: cursing, jason may be ooc, she/her pronouns, anger issues, jason's nickname for reader is pompeii because volcano n stuff

note: thank you for your request anon <33 i hope this lives up to your expectations. enjoy!

short oneshot under the cut :: not edited

The Argo II became more of a home to the eight demigods during their months of travel. Even though the ship would most probably get destroyed beyond even Leo's repair by the time they finished their quest of destroying Gaea, that didn't stop them from finding comfort within the Celestial bronze walls.

During that morning, most of the demigods were in the dining room, enjoying their breakfast. They were all tired and sluggish, since the night before wasn't kind to them. Usually they would take shifts when it came to guarding the ship, but everyone was awake last night due to the mini army of winged terrors that came across the flying ship, which caused them to set down on the sea near the land.

They all slept for less than four hours, and they all wanted nothing more but to add to those hours of sleep.

"GODDAMN THIS STUPID HORSE!"

Well, most of them slept. It seemed that one of them didn't find sleep as luxurious as the rest did that night.

"How does she have this much energy? It's like, seven in the morning," Percy groaned, almost faceplanting into his blue pancakes if it weren't for Annabeth's quick reflexes to hold her boyfriend's head up.

"I SWEAR TO MY DAD'S ROMAN COUNTERPART I WILL TEAR YOU TO TINY LITTLE PIECES YOU HUNK OF SHIT!"

"She's a daughter of Ares alright," Frank chuckled tiredly, rubbing his eyes. "Only she can be heard this clearly when she's all the way on the other side of the ship."

"What horse is she talking about? I thought the stables were empty," Piper wondered, not bothering to tame her typhoon hair as she sipped her orange juice.

"THAT'S MY SHIRT YOU DUMBASS — ARION THE FUCKING HAY IS RIGHT THERE — STOP CHEWING MY DAMN SHIRT!"

It seemed that Arion decided to pay them a little visit now that they were set on a monster-free dock. That would explain Hazel's absence from the table, and how she reappeared in the doorway. She turned to Jason, who was trying to shovel as much food into his mouth as he could so he can go to the stables.

"She's gonna explode again," Hazel panted, putting a hand on her knee to support herself. "I tried getting her to breathe, like you normally do, Jason, but she's not listening. She might actually go through with killing Arion this time."

Jason swallowed, wiping his mouth as he stood up. "I'll go handle it. You," he pointed to Hazel, "eat."

Leo looked up from his rubber band helicopter to stare at his best friend. "Good luck, buddy. She hasn't bit off your head yet, but that could happen any day now."

Jason chuckled. "Thanks, Leo, but I'll be fine." He left the room.

More cursing and shouts that sounded dangerously close to war cries made Jason quicken his pace as he crossed the deck to go down into the stables, where he could see flickering shadows of a girl and a horse.

"If you bite at my shirt again, I'll shove a grenade down your throat and use your insides as monster bait."

Jason stopped walking, to see if you could actually control yourself this time.

Chomp.

"THAT'S IT, I'M GETTING MY GRENADES —"

You're thundering footsteps grew louder as you approached the doorway to leave the stables. Jason stepped forward just as you were about to exit the room, putting a placating hand on your shoulder. "Woah woah, slow down there Pompeii. No need to resort to violence so quickly, hmm?"

Strands of hay were poking out from your hair — which wasn't as messy as Piper's but it was well on its way there. There were dark circles under your angry eyes, indicating that you didn't sleep a wink that night. Your knuckles were white from how hard you were balling your fists, and heavy breaths escaped your lips. Jason swore that he could see a little bit of smoke coming out of your ears.

"That goddamn horse is gonna die," you seethed, your chest rising and falling from your angry inhales and exhales. "Step out of the way, Grace."

Jason shook his head, a calming smile on his lips as he moved his hands to your hair, picking out the hay before resting on your flaming cheeks, flushed with annoyance. "Breathe with me."

"I gotta give that stupid piece of shit what it deserves —"

"I know, I know, but you gotta breathe with me first, okay?"

"But —"

"Breathe. In..." He took a deep breath in, sending you a pointed look when you didn't follow. His scolding glance made you mutter some colorful words under your breath before following along with him.

"Out..."

You exhaled with him. You could feel your anger boil down, and Jason saw and felt your shoulders let out the tension in it.

"In..." you closed your eyes.

"Out..."

You opened them once you sensed that Jason was done. "How are you feeling?" He asked you.

"Better. Still a little annoyed, but I'm better."

"Remember what we said?"

You glared a little at Jason, before sighing and looking away. "I shouldn't act on my anger unless necessary."

"And was it necessary now?"

"No..."

Jason's smile grew, putting his palm under your chin to make you look at him so he could give you a small peck on your lips. "You look like you haven't slept. How about you rest in your cabin for the day, let the rest of us handle the monsters and the bird crap on the deck?"

You shrugged, acting like you didn't really care, an act that didn't convince Jason, judging from the way you leaned into his touch. "Sure, whatever. As long as someone else makes sure that damned horse is gone by the time I'm awake." You casted a heated glare at Arion behind you. The horse simply snorted, bending down to eat the hay that you were trying to get him to eat instead of your shirt moments before.

Jason nodded, his blonde hair swaying slightly with the movement. "Deal. Let's get some food in your system before you head to bed, okay?"

"Fine."

You let Jason lead you out of the stables and into the dining room, where everyone was.

The silence that followed your arrival was awkward and tense, like they were still waiting for some aftershock of your anger.

They finally breathed when you and Jason squeezed into a chair and Jason gave you food that you ate in silence, a pensive expression on your face as your eyes were focused only on the food in front of you, paying no mind to the stares of your fellow demigods."

"How do you do it?" Leo sighed, launching his helicopter, which flew out of the room. "Even back at camp, not even her siblings could contain her. That takes skill, man."

Your half sister Clarisse, despite being known for her issues with controlling her anger, could hardly restrain you when someone decided to tick you off.

Jason shrugged, staring lovingly at you, his girlfriend, cheeks slightly puffed from the food you were chewing. "I don't know man. I just do it."

But deep down, Jason knew the truth. You would never calm down unless you let yourself be calmed down by someone you completely trusted.

Being able to make you see through your anger was not a skill Jason had, it was simply the one of the perks of being your boyfriend, and the one person you trusted more than yourself.

And Jason would rather jump into Tartarus than let anyone else have the privilege that you entrusted to him.

[reallyromealone]

SOULMATES 5

Muzan x male reader

Warnings: Omegaverse, male reader, mpreg, gay, arguing, shit gets weird ngl

She's a long fic

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Tengen set (name) behind him as the pillars drew their blades at the demon, the scent of pure rage falling off them in waves as Akaza smiled playfully before rushing at them.

(Name) saw the damage being done and made a run down the hall, not an easy task with a pregnant belly. The Omega realized how much of a maze this place was as the sound of crashing could be heard getting closer "nonono!" (Name) said shaking with fear for his pup, clenching his eyes closed as he hugged his belly, the sound of a woman laughing could be heard and it was almost in slow motion as black wisps covered his vision as a woman with white hair crashed through the wall fighting Shinobu, the pillar and (name) locking eyes before he blinked and was in...well he couldn't tell you where he was....well he didn't know where he was.

"H-how..." (Name) mumbled as he held his belly, looking down at his pup "did...did you do this?" (Name) was confused as he gently rubbed his belly, feeling a small foot kick back "thank you for protecting me my little dove" (name) said before standing and looking at his surroundings, he was in a field somewhere "might as well find shelter..." (Name) said wondering in a random direction, hard to see in the darkness.

He was thankful Muzan purchased him thicker materials, the night air slightly chilly against his skin "don't worry, I will keep you safe my darling" (name) said as he continued his journey.

"Where did he go?!" Tengen freaked out as the fight stopped for a second so all could process what the fuck just happened "where the fuck did you take him!" Tengen hissed out as he slashed at Akaza "we know as much as you do" the upper moon said causally "though our he won't be pleased with his mate and pup missing"

The realization amongst the demons dawned at the fact that they lost their Lords mate and Muzan was already well aware of the situation and like that the moons were gone.

"We have to find him before them" Tengen said coldly.

(Name) had been walking quite a distance before he came upon a shrine, old and abandoned but shelter none the less.

"Thank goodness your papa let me read those books, once I'm rested we can find food" (name) said as he sat at the tiny Engawa as the storm clouds rolled in, covering the dark sky "let's find some light..." He said worried.

Thankfully on the old shrine there were some candles and some match sticks "luck is on our side little one" he whispered as thunder rolled in "we got in just in time"

The storm raged on for hours, (name) humming his unborn pup a lullaby as he looked out the window, heart growing fond at the thought of his mate.

"I know this isn't the best but we will make it through this"

Muzan was ravenous with rage as he ripped apart the home he made for (name), the Alpha having moved the omega and pups belongings back to the infinity castle "when he returns he will never leave the castle" he hissed out all the lower moons bowing before him "find him, if he is harmed in any way you know what will happen"

Death.

It was a race between the slayer's and the moons, night and day for the Omega.

(Name) learned the shrine wasn't abandoned for too long, maybe a few months give or take, finding bedding and the like in a small closet "we really are lucky aren't we?"

(Name) constructed a small nest in the corner and removed his robes, revealing his shift that Muzan gifted him as apparently omegas wore these under clothes in the west.

The robes were large enough to suit as a makeshift blanket as he snuggled into the nest, the sound of rain soothing him as his pup moved slightly.

(Name) woke to the sound of cicadas as he opened the sliding doors to see the morning sun shine down on him, the rain completely gone.

Dressing himself the Omega stepped out and took a full look at his surroundings, what he thought was a shrine was actually an old farm "where there's a farm there's people" the Omega said softly while taking in his surroundings "I guess we're here for now..." (Name) said going back inside and taking a full look at his new temporary home "we should probably find people, we need food"

A month had passed, (name) using his survival knowledge Tengen taught him growing up and the Botany books Muzan let him read, finding roots and such and generally surviving.

He was outside sweeping the Engawa when a carriage with two women passed by and stopped while waving at him.

Curious (name) wandered to them "are you alright?" A woman asked curiously and (name) sighed "well you see... I have been stranded here" he explained and the two nodded "this farms been left behind by the former owners, the wife actually lives at our home..."

"Oh?" (Name) asked curiously "yes, you're welcome to come with us, we have a doctor in the village not to far from our home"

(Name) agreed to come with them, the women calling their home "eternal Paradise" where omegas and women go to find sanctuary under their ruler Doma.

Where had (name) heard that name before...?

The members of this place doted on (name), not a lot of people got pregnant here, having escaped abusive mates and the likes.

They spent their time bonding with the Omega, helping him get used to the space and finding darling baby clothes.

"I-I am actually trying to find my alpha... Or my brother, either is fine really" (name) said not wanting to admit he wants his alpha a little more, feeling a sense of betrayal at the thought of choosing between them.

"Maybe our Lord may know!" One of the omegas said happily as he cuddled (name), the Omega having spent a few weeks with them and though they were kind to him, he needed to get out of here.

"Really?"

"Of course, he's all knowing!"

(Name) was brought by the members of the 'eternal paradise' to their leader, a man with white blond hair and eyes (name) had never seen before "my... Hello little Omega, are you alright?" The man's voice was almost clipped, staged and calm.

"Hello lord Doma... I'm sorry to bother you like this" (name) said softly and doma smiled at the shy Omega "leave us" he said to the cult members who bowed and left the two alone "come here Omega..."

"You been through so much..." Doma said sweetly as (name) sat before him "why do you come to see me?"

"I-im looking for someone... Or someone's to be specific"

"I see... You must have travelled far"

"A bit, you see my brother doesn't approve of my relationship with my alpha and tried to take me back but I just wish they could talk a-and maybe work things out"

"They seem to really hate one another..." Doma said softly as the Omega nodded "they do, I-I just wish they could get along for the pups..."

"Well little one, you're welcome to stay in eternal Paradise for as long as you may need" Doma said softly, the demon letting (name) ramble and talk before the pups decided they wanted to have the attention "oh! Sorry... They have strong kicks" he said softly and doma looked curious "may I?" He asked and (name) let him gently place his palm on the others belly, feeling the movement.

"I'm having twins, my alpha is very excited" (name) said "oh! How rude of me, I spoke so much about myself but I haven't asked you about your day"

This actually threw Doma off for a second, people only come to him for guidance as they believed he could speak to the gods "My day was wonderful thank you" Doma said though today had been quite boring, hearing peoples woes and such.

But it was nice being able to talk about himself "I'm glad you had a good day! It must be hard running all this"

Doma didn't know why he let the Omega come see him every day, the two talking for hours.

Muzan failed tell Doma who his Omega was, the Alpha seeing as Doma never left the cult he wouldn't need to do so.

(Name) stayed for the remainder of his pregnancy, helping as he waited for the Alpha Doma wasn't looking for, the demon having grown attached to (name) who never asked from him anything but his company, the Omega clearly didn't understand what this place was or exactly what power Doma had but the Demon didn't mind.

"Oh... Oh no" (name) mumbled as liquid leaked down "no...! Alpha isn't here... He needs to be here..." (Name) sobbed out as the members tried consoling him, bringing him to Doma "I-I need alpha...! I need Muzan!"

The room halted at the name the Omega cried out, as Doma came to check on the issue "you're... That (name)?"

Another contraction rolled through as Doma began blasting his thoughts for his lord to hear "where is he?" Muzans voice spoke clearly before seeing his Omega get soothed by the omegas.

"You where here...?" Muzan felt like an idiot, not bothering to check with Doma because well as mentioned before, why would he?

He liked to keep out of the blonds head as much as possible.

The room cleared out of the members as Doma watched the two interact, he didn't know what he considered (name), the psychopath was attached to him but was quite pleased to know that they were mates with his lord.

That meant he could see him more.

"Shhh, dont fret Omega" Muzan said softly and like that Doma alone, the sound of a biwa heard.

He missed the peppy Omega already.

(Name) was clinging to Muzan as the Alpha tried soothing him, poor (name)s emotions spilling out fully as he tried to remain strong and calm but....

He missed his alpha so much.

Another contraction rolled through and (name) shook in agony "m-my brother..." He sobbed out "I-I want..."

Muzan kept trying soothing his poor omega "p-please... I need to see him..."

Muzan could feel the anguish from the bond and sighed summoning kokushibo and giving very clear instructions on what to do next.

It wasn't tengen who found the note in the night, attached to an arrow imbedded into a wall of the slayer's headquarters but instead Tanjiro who curiously brought it to Tengen as it was addressed to him.

'Tengen Uzui

Remember what killing me will do to your brother and the pups before reading the rest of this'

A thinly veiled threat Tengen noted as he continued.

'your brother and my mate is in labor though he demands your presence, bring whomever you desire but remember.

This isn't a battle.

Remember what this will do to (name)'

An address was added to the bottom, the Hashira shaking in rage but had to consider his brother.

It was a threat yes but... He needed to see his brother and the pups.

The address wasn't far, the slayer's managing to get there within half an hour as the moon hung high, the slayer's able to see the moons on guard both upper and lower "our Lord is with his mate, only the brother is allowed to enter" kokushibo said simply, eyes staring down the slayer's who were equally on guard, tengen walking forward "what is this is a trap?"

"He wouldn't risk killing his mates brother" tengen knew Muzan wasn't that reckless, the affects of that could put (name) into a drop or even a sleep especially seeing as the two siblings are incredibly close.

Tengen was let into the small home where (name)s scream could be heard, the Hashira rushing to see his brother being consoled by Muzan "hold his hand, he desires your comfort"

Tengen couldn't believe he was taking orders from a demon but when (name) reached out to him so teary eyed the Alpha instantly was at his brothers side as he gripped his hand almost painfully "darling I'm going to need you to push now" Muzan said and (name) shook his head "c-cant!"

"Yes you can... Come on darling, don't you want to see our pups?"

(Name) was sobbing as he tried pushing, letting out a painful groan as tengen supported his brother, whispering encouragement to the Omega "Fuck!" (Name) hissed out and that was the first time either alpha had heard him swear but not the time.

The slayer's and moons dead stared each other as Zenitsu tried not to make eye contact with them and Doma waved at Shinobu flirty to the woman's disgust "so.... Who thinks the pups will be human or demon?" Zenitsu asked finally and everyone stared at him with a look "they will obviously be human/demon!" And that created a debate as the poor Omega after four hours have birth to the pups, Muzan cleaning the pups before handing them to the Omega who looked at the two alphas "look pups, it's your uncle and papa..." (Name) was a mess but deliriously happy as the pups made little noises as the Omega scented them "thank you...both for not fighting" (name) said "I-I know this was..." (Name) was teary eyed as he clutched the pups "thank you..."

"Of course"

"Anything for you"

(Name) let the alphas hold the pups and watched Tengen make silly faces to the youngest pup, Muzan wrapping the pup so the folds moved to the left opposed the the right like the eldest.

Muzan was quiet with his pup, the two obviously bonding as the babe grabbed his finger with his tiny hand, the Alpha unblinking as he gently scented the pup.

The two alphas didn't want to admit it but they both had a deeper connection now that the pups were born.

Tengen knew he couldn't make his brother a widow and leave the little ones without a father and Muzan was well aware of the betrayal it would be to (name) to kill his brother.

It would be unforgivable.

"I... I don't want to be seperated from either of you" (name) said softly, playing with his fingers as the two alphas looked at him "please don't make me chose..."

(Name) never voiced his feelings on this but it was damaging that he was seperated from his loved ones because they hated each other.

He knew he was asking the impossible but he just wanted his family to get along.

"Please...."

"He eats people (name)..." Tengen tried reasoning with his poor brother who looked so heartbroken "I-I just want... I just want you guys to get along" and began sobbing, his distressed pharamones making the pups cry, the alphas now trying to soothe a crying Omega and two new borns, both looking alarmed though tengen was more openly worried "give me my pups!" (Name) hissed and the alphas complied "I-I just want my pups to have their family!"

Logically (name) knew why it wouldn't work but he just gave birth to two pups and his Omega was on high alert.

"(N-name)--""no! Out! Both of you!"

The two alphas were stunned but weren't given room to argue as the Omega growled at them.

And that's how tengen and Muzan were standing outside the small home wide eyed and kind of shocked.

"I- what...?"

"I wasn't aware my omega could react like that"

"Hes a Shinobi, he's capable of anything"

"...what happened?" Rengoku asked confused and Tengen didn't even process he was around demons "he kicked us out?" Tengen said still shocked.

"What did you two do?" Shinobu asked with a raised eyebrow and Muzan glared at her slightly "we didn't do a thing..."

"We refused to comply with what he wanted" tengen said "and what did he want?"

"For us to get along"

The moons and slayer's all looked at each other almost disbelieving "they literally eat humans"

"That's what I said!"

"Well unless you guys want (name) to let you anywhere near him or the pups, we can't fight" Tanjiro said simply and the two alphas realized he was correct, that would just make situations worse.

None of them knew how to proceed, a temporary truce being formed until they could settle on how to handle this.

(Name) was seething with rage as he flicked between consious and feral as his pups fed, the Omega kissing their tiny heads as he kept them close.

When the pups fell asleep, the Omega tucked them safely into the nest, body in pain from giving birth but he needed to keep his pups safe.

Crawling to the door he cracked it open to make eye contact with a six eyed demon and waved him over, completely ignoring his alpha and brother.

Kokushibo listened to his Lord's mate as he was held to equal importance by the moons, (name) whispering into his ear "could you tell Shinobu and Tanjiro to come here..." He asked softly, voice hoarse from screaming for four hours.

The demon nodded to the Omega who thanked him quietly before closing the door and returning to the pups.

The moons knew better than to not listen to (name) if they didn't want to face Muzans wrath.

The two slayer's went into the house where (name) doted over his babes "Shinobu... I want you to be the god mother...." (Name) said softly, not looking at them "I know if god forbid anything happens you will make sure they are loved and valued"

"I understand (name)" the Omega said watching the other "Tanjiro.... I have a request of you, I know it's a lot to ask but could you please get me supplies for the pups, I know you know what a pup needs and... Would you be willing to stay with me? Nezuko can stay as well but.. this is my first time really around children.."

"I-I would be honored!" Tanjiro said and bowed to the Omega "thank you...." (Name) said ushering them close "this is (child A) and this is (child B)" he introduced and Shinobu gently traced (child A)s cheek "they're beautiful..." She said softly "absolutely stunning" Tanjiro said genuinely as he smiled at the pups.

"I'm not leaving my pups with slayers" Muzan seethed as Shinobu explained the situation, and Shinobu wasnt having any of this shit.

She wasn't very happy her dear friend was mates with the king of jackasses but there wasn't much to be done!

"Well until (name) decides he wants to even look at any either of you, we will work in rotations on who watches him"

"And why should we listen to you?!" Daki hissed out, not wanting to take orders from a human "because I'm those pups god mother and what I say goes currently" Shinobu said with a smile.

Everyone could agree this was the weirdest and most uncomfortable time for everyone involved and no one was happy "where's Tanjiro?" Tengen asked confused and Shinobu just wanted to go home at this point "(name) chose him to essentially be a midwife of sorts to help him with the pup"

Muzan was furious at this, ready to rip the door open and bring his mate to the castle and force him to forgive him but it wasn that easy.

It never was.

So begrudgingly they worked out a crude schedule.

The forest was dense enough to keep out sunlight so it was one Slayer and one demon per shift.

Each shift being twelve hours.

[lifewithdavefarts]

DaveFarts - Episode 31 “Wet Gas” [Episode List] Tim, Dave, Adam and Greg spend a “guys only” weekend… relaxing in the calmest and cheapest beach resort the could find. While the others enjoy the soothing sound of the waves, Tim is “forced” by Dave to enjoy instead the loud, thunderous sound of his massive farts.

POV: Tim

7:00 AM.

We parked in the middle of nowhere, grabbed our backpacks, and marched towards the only visible human-made thing.

The sign hanging just above the main entrance of the modest hotel building, a structure separating the hot asphaltic hell we were standing on from the (hopefully) beautiful beach resort, reads “Sandy Beach”, written in Comic Sans nonetheless. Very original name!

We promptly, and very maturely, misread “beach” on purpose and we had our first high IQ laugh of the weekend.

“Pretty cool, huh?” our friend Greg said, admiring the shabby entrance and leading us the way, with a smug look on his face.

Considering that he chose the place, he was obviously being very biased.

“Yeah.” I said. “Are they gonna harvest our internal organs tonight or…” 

That earned a good laugh from Dave and Adam.

“Yeah it looks like shit.” Adam said. “But as long as they have the Jacuzzi...” he glared at Greg “I’m okay with losing a liver I guess.”

“Can’t wait to rub your wet nipples, Adam.” Dave said, caressing our friend’s chest.

“Not now, Greg may get jealous.” he replied, playing along.

“Who’s gonna rub MY nipples then?” I asked, sarcastically.

Dave stepped closer to me and wrapped his arm around my shoulder.

“Is that even a question?” he said, painfully pinching my right nipple.

I didn’t scream. 

I suffered in silence like a real man.

—

Credit where it’s due.

Once we stepped into the building, the resort turned out to be bigger and much more equipped than it looked. The beach was vast and not very crowded (it’s only late June after all), same goes for the swimming pools.

In the end we booked 2 rooms and we split like we usually do when it’s just the 4 of us: Adam and Greg in one room, me and Dave in the other.

Adam and Dave’s girlfriends were actually supposed to join us but they decided to plan a “girls only” weekend instead with other friends.

The entire building was mostly made of wood, or cladded with wood. It gave the place a more “exotic” look and, most importantly, it wasn’t boiling hot and I didn’t even need to turn the AC ON. There were palms outside, but they were made of plastic. 

Fun, I guess?

Before going to the beach we all checked our rooms first. Both me and Dave checked for some stuff in our backpacks and we changed into our “beach” clothes, which basically meant only wearing a simple t-shirt and a swimming trunks. My bro was sporting a grey t-shirt and a pair of red trunks.

I admit I gave him more than one quick look, hoping my dark sunglasses would hide my eyes glued on him. 

He is a good looking man after all. 

“Enjoying the view?” he said, his own sunglasses hiding the fact that he was staring back at me the whole time.

“You know what?” I dared to say. “Yes.”

Dave laughed at my bravery. “Thanks.” he then said, no irony, no sarcasm. “You too are looking good. Told ya you needed to exercise.”

Well this has been a weirdly sincere exchange of compliments.

“Now let’s rate your cock…”

There it is, the mandatory immature joke (but everything before that was sincere).

We grabbed our towels and I walked outside of the room, Dave right behind me, being tasked with preserving our room’s keys. 

Outside of our room there was a long and (as of now) empty corridor. I turned to Dave as he made to close the door behind us but before doing that he looked left and right, as if he was a pedestrian crossing a busy road.

“One last thing before we go…” he whispered, after he sure no one was around.

Dave held the door ajar behind him and squeezed his ass in red trunks into our room, unleashing a loud, high-pitched fart. He narrowed his eyes as he pushed the loud gas out; technically a morning fart, but fueled by a weird schedule (we woke up at like 4:00 AM to get here) and a quick, unhealthy breakfast.

“Marking your territory I see.” my snarky comment, as I witnessed my friend tainting our once immaculate room with his gas.

He laughed a bit, resulting in the fart having some “hiccups”, but he managed to finish ripping it nicely, with a final, deeper, loud note. Dave then quickly shut the door, as if the gas could escape, and locked it.

“And you did this… because?” I asked, sounding as annoying as you think.

“Because I had to fart, duh!” he replied, putting his sunglasses on.

He wrapped his arm around my shoulder as we walked in the empty corridor.

“No worries, I’m gonna blast ya later.” he then said, whispering, like the bastard teaser he knows he is.

He tried to crush my nipple again but this time I parried him like the pro I am and, ignoring the fact that Dave was, as usual, being super chill with my kink (and the fact I was pitching a tent…), we raced to the beach like the immature 30 years olds that we are.

—

After some beach volley on the shoreline, we spent the next few hours sleeping under our umbrellas, because we’re old and tired of living. Still the best nap we ever had since months. We woke up and just ate a sandwich each for lunch, as we had a much more “demanding” dinner planned for tonight here at the resort.

We had another session of beach volley in the afternoon, some beers, chatted with some other guys, generally chilling and doing basically nothing, occasionally commenting on how deceptively shabby the whole resort was, imagining non-existent lore and backstories worthy of an AMC crime drama series.

—

The Sun was setting so we decided to leave the beach and go back to our rooms. It was still early for dinner or any other night activity, so I proposed to try the Jacuzzi.

“Bro.” Dave said to Adam and Greg, faking a serious, surprised expression. “Tim had… a good idea?”

Sarcasm aside, the other three idiots agreed, ‘cause after that long day of relax… we needed to relax. Makes sense.

We chose the Jacuzzi in mine and Dave’s room since it was the one actually working (the news made Greg earn some insults from Adam). After a couple of minutes of setting it up, we jumped in, fetching some beers in the process, and let the warm bubbles do their massage. 

We all felt ridiculously good. We kept chatting and joking around, chilling in the hot-tub 5ft apart ‘cause we’re not gay (well…), or at least that was the idea, but Dave (and Adam too, to be fair) had to mess with our nipples because we’re very mature, so the thing quickly turned into some kind of Mexican Standoff where we had to keep our nipples safe.

After like 15 minutes, the hydro-massage turned itself off.

“Probably a power-saving thing.” Greg commented.

Dave floated towards me and “sat” next to me. I could still see the red swimming trunks through the warm water.

“If you guys need bubbles, I got ya covered.”

At first we didn’t realize what he meant, until we remembered who were we sharing the Jacuzzi with.

We noticed him visibly pushing one out and lots of bubbles appeared all around him. 

A cartoonishingly-impressive performance from Dave, as he managed to rip it with ease even underwater, producing what essentially was a natural hydro-massage (I was next to him and I could certainly feel it). His skills earned amused and disgusted reactions (even from me), as each popping bubble let out in the air the stench of his fart. 

That wasn’t an underwater fart, that was a seaquake entirely localized in our hot-tub. As the fart kept going and more poisonous bubbles reached the surface, it felt more like we were bathing in some thermal waters near a volcano, since the whole thing smelt like sulphur (…which notably smells like rotten eggs).

After like 10 seconds, the bubbles stopped, and Dave looked at us with a smug, proud smirk, fully knowing how annoying that was. But, as bros do, we actually tipped our metaphorical hats to his incredible talent. Despite my sincere admiration, that still gave me a massive boner, which the water fortunately kept hidden.

A few minutes later, the Jacuzzi turned itself on again.

“Hey hey! That’s not me I swear!” Dave joked.

We could tell it wasn’t him: the massage wasn’t nearly as strong as his fart’s.

—

We had our dinner at the resort restaurant, which offered lots of wine and seafood, which looked mostly safe to eat, and then went back one more time in our rooms to have a quick shower before leaving again for a night pool party (always taking place in the resort), with alcohol and music. 

As I was drying my hair, Dave got out of the shower, without even bothering of covering himself with a towel. He didn’t mind and, to be honest, me neither, though I must say, he was kind of well-endowed. 

My bro pointed at me, lifted his right leg a bit and let out a short loud blast, droplets of water getting sprayed out of his bare ass in the process.

“Well said.” I simply commented.

Dave then went to the bedroom to wear some clothes despite being still wet (just a t-shirt and those red swimming trunks again), as he always does during Summer.

And so he did, ready in a matter of seconds. Perhaps this wasn’t what he was going for, but his chest being still wet made his t-shirt tighter-looking, making his pecs more visible. Dave wasn’t super muscular or anything, but he was tall, slim and fit-looking, and as I said many times he was overall a pretty good-looking guy. He didn’t bother shaving, so he had this stubble covering part of his face.

“Tim it’s super hot outside, you don’t need to dry your hair come on!” he said, checking the time on his phone.

“Alright alright, I’m coming.” I replied, slipping into a t-shirt and a pair of shorts as fast as I could.

As we approached the door, I heard Dave doing an encore of what happened this morning, only with his mouth this time. My bro uttered a rather unexpected (even though he was remarkably good at it too) loud, deep, throaty belch, which is basically a mouth-fart, so further proof of his air-bending mastery.

“Gesundheit.” I jokingly said.

Dave gave me a thumbs-up in response, though he kind of looked like there was something bothering him.

“Those shrimps are doing numbers in my stomach.” he let out another small belch. “Oof.”

“I’m sure your digestive system has seen worse.” believe me, I know what I’m talking about: this man could eat and digest an entire boar without flinching.

He replied with one more short belch though.

“We’ll see.”

—

The pool party was actually… a bit boring: there weren’t that many people and while we did manage to chat with another friend group (who was as bored as we were), we mostly drowned ourselves in alcohol and random snacks. Speaking of drowning, at one point, Dave decided to randomly push Greg into the swimming pool, as he was talking non-stop about the hard process of choosing his glasses (we promptly took them off his face before pushing him though -we’re not monsters).

Greg being the butt of our jokes reignited the party, as me and other people (including my other two buds) dived into the pool as the music got louder. Us and those other guys basically owned the place at this point, turning an otherwise boring situation into our private party. We kept drinking and chatting for a couple of hours, in and out of the water, enjoying our summer night.

—

At round 3:30 AM we called it a day (or rather, a night). The resort’s staff turned the music off and everyone went back into their rooms. We kept chatting a bit more in the hotel hall, drinking one last beer or whiskey together, before being too tired ourselves. 

The wet steps of our slippers echoed in the otherwise silent hotel as Dave and I marched towards our room (Greg and Adam’s room was on the other side of the building, relatively far from us).

“Thanks for pushing Greg into the swimming pool.” I said.

“Thank you guys for suggesting it.” 

I don’t remember doing that, though admittedly we all thought of it at the same time.

We opened the door and we were greeted by the cold breeze of the sea, as we left the windows open.

After a few steps, Dave took off his t-shirt and let himself fall on the bed, lying on his stomach and hugging his pillow.

I did the same, lying (on my back) next to him. 

I checked my phone for some messages, trying to be as quiet as possible ‘cause I thought he fell asleep, until he turned to me, tired but very much awake.

“Send me some of the photos you took later.” he said, trying to twist my right nipple.

“Doing it as we speak.”

He then reached for his own phone and, still lying on his stomach, sent Dana a quick voice message explaining how we all finally had mad sex with each other, especially Greg because he’s the hottest one.

After he finished recording, he uttered a small belch. Gay jokes are one thing, but he draws the line at belching into his girlfriend’s ears (not that Dana isn’t familiar with Dave’s skills…).

“How’s your stomach by the way?” I asked.

“I’m fine. Nothing that 2 gallons of beer couldn’t fix.” he replied, with a hint of sarcasm. “But yeah it’s all good.” he then properly admitted.

As if it was something necessary to further prove his point, Dave’s statement was followed by a sudden, thunderous fart that could very well wake all the guests in the hotel up. I got startled: I didn’t even realize he was pushing one out! Since he was lying on this stomach, the ass basically looked like an erupting volcano, the poisonous gas cloud quickly reaching my nose: the smell was terrible, a sign of Dave’s stomach getting rid of unwanted waste without actually turning into solid shit.

The 7 seconds rip was followed by another loud, short toot, finishing the blast.

“Yeah, that sounded healthy.” I simply remarked.

Somehow Dave found my comment really funny, and he laughed before his usual “fart smirk” could appear on his face every time he teases me with his farting skills.

“Yeah, my stomach could handle it, as usual.” he finally managed to say. “The real question is… can you handle it?” 

My heart stopped for a moment, because I will never get used to Dave being a chill, teasing bastard, and how he actually delivers without stopping at the tease. I knew I was going to get face-farted and if my ears didn’t lie to me, his farts were going to be huge tonight, even for his standards. I guess it happens when you stuff your strong stomach with tons of questionable seafood and gallons of alcohol.

“You know you don’t have to, right…?” I said, kind of embarrassed.

Dave sighed and laughed a bit, amused, but almost frustrated by how, somehow, I was the one who didn’t get used to such gross kink, whereas my straight bro was more than OK with blasting me, fully knowing that I liked it that way.

“I told ya I was gonna blast you later, remember?”

The fact that he remembers saying that to me while I almost forgot was almost funny to me. I found it hot, I found it nice, I found it… weird. But I guess we’re both weirdos in our own way.

My train of thoughts was derailed by another loud fart, this time lasting “only” 3 seconds, a fart that I’m almost sure Dave ripped just to get my full attention, not that it was difficult: his ass looked great in those red, tight swimming trunks and I could perfectly distinguish his asscheeks.

“Just do it.” I said, cackling nervously. 

My friend snickered. “Nah, too tired to get up, just plant your head there, I don’t care.” he said, resting his head on the pillow, as he pointed me in the direction of a different kind of pillow.

I was speechless.

“Y-you sure?” I had to ask.

“I’m going to fart in 3…2…1”

Maybe my deft movement made me look too thirsty and desperate, but Dave found it disgustingly hilarious, so that’s fine. I rushed towards my friend’s red ass, essentially obeying to his order, and planted my head between the red fabric-clad buttcheeks.

That felt… good. The ass was actually softer than I expected but what I wasn’t expecting is how much wet, damp and cold those swimming trunks still were, yet my nose, a bit deeper into my friend’s ass, was warmer. I could smell the stench of his previous rips, which the wet trunks somehow made it worse, and it felt like I was tipping my nose into sewer waters.

The fart that greeted me almost made me regret my head was where it was. A loud fart, as usual, which made my head shake; the water trapped deep into my friend’s ass produced some weird sounds, as if his anus was gargling. I could feel a “fizzy” sensation tickling my nose, my head completely blocking what felt like a powerful geyser of flatulence. 

I didn’t know if I could handle it, to be honest: the whole thing reeked like sewers and, well, shit. Dave claimed that he was feeling well, but those roars basically were his stomach turning shit into pure gas. Fart fetish or not, you learn to recognize your gassy friend’s farts, especially when he’s this talented.

The blast lasted 11 seconds, finishing off with a wet quack-like sound, which my friend actually found gross and hilarious.

“You sure you can handle it?” he threatened, knowing exactly how revolting his farts were being tonight.

“We’ll see.” I replied, echoing what he said earlier about his stomach, which he noticed.

“Well then.”

He reached for my head and grabbed it, pushing it, with a firm grip, even deeper into his anus. The thin, red fabric of his swimming trunks was the only thing separating me from the gassy hell that was my friend’s ass… and it was basically useless: Dave could very well be face-farting me bare-ass for how terrible the stench was.

I got jump-scared by a new blast erupting into my face; while pushing the fart out, Dave wiggled his ass left and right, wiping his wet ass on my face. The gargle-like sounds returned, and I felt the red trunks getting wetter, a sign that more water was being sprayed out of my friend’s ass due to the sheer power of his fart. Even though yes, it was water, it was still coming from the depths of my friend’s anus, so you can only imagine how much my nostrils were suffering in that moment.

The fart changed pitch as Dave wiggled his ass, going from an higher-pitch to a deeper one; this had nothing to do with the butt moving, as my friend is just that good at “sound-designing” (as he once put it) his own farts. Probably a side-effect of being able to fart on command, though those were all natural.

And they were all natural indeed as I never heard farts on command being this wet, not from my bro at least. Don’t get me wrong, Dave was a pro, I knew he wasn’t gonna shit on my face, but damn if the mixture of an entire multiple showers, a pool party and questionable shrimps weren’t messing with the sound of his blasts.

And the smell…

Those incredible displays of flatulence smelt like fucking shit and sewer and this on-going fart was just pure stench being shoved down my throat: I could almost taste those damn shrimps. After 16 long seconds, finally, it got less loud and as he ripped the final toots before properly stopping, Dave turned his head to check on me, but as his eyes landed on my face being devoured by his red-clad asscheeks, he laughed like the teasing, open-minded bastard that he is.

“Don’t you just love the soothing sound of the waves?”

Funny thing is, we could actually hear the so-called soothing sound of the waves from our room.

Well, as long as it’s silent.

And with Dave brewing a big one already, the silence wasn’t gonna last long.

Predictably enough, his ironic statement about the waves was followed by another rip right into my face, as he still held my head still, at the mercy of his asscheeks. It was a quick, wet thunder, lasting about 3 seconds, but damn if it was loud, perhaps the loudest one so far somehow, and one of the loudest farts I ever heard from Dave in general. The putrid stench it produced matched its power: my eyes got teary because of the dense, warm gas.

But my bro wasn’t done: still lying on his stomach and holding my head where it belonged, he spread his legs wide, occupying the entire king-sized bed, with my nose being “pulled” even deeper into the moist-y depths of his red-clad anus. I could taste the “swamp” those red swimming trunks became, now even more wet because of my own sweat. 

Also, since we’ve been to a pool party, the nauseating stench of Dave’s farts was accompanied by a faint smell of chlorine, which gave the blasts an oddly “pungent” scent (well, more than usual).

A moment of silence, another silence that was doomed to not last, then I heard my friend laugh a bit. 

“Goodbye, Tim”

When even Dave says stuff like that, you know he’s brewing a giant one.

And a giant fart it was, the final result of a long beach day, questionable food and lots of alcohol. It sounded like a chainsaw and again it had that gargle-like sound going on. I felt one more time my nose being tickled by that “fizzy” feeling coming from his anus as more water was being sprayed out of his ass, his red trunks barely able to contain that. 

The wet blast probably woke other guests I’m sure, as it was, probably, the loudest fart I ever heard, period. Or at least that’s how it sounded to me, as my face was being forcefully held there by my friend, one with the source of those beautiful farts.

Dave didn’t need to hold my head however, because I wasn’t going anywhere. I didn’t want to. 

As the loud rip pierced my eardrums, I took deep breaths and I could taste that sewer-like ass in all of its raw, gross nature. My head was shaking, the entire bed was shaking. My cock was rock hard and I knew I was reaching my breaking point.

So… I just let it happen, my own shorts conveniently hiding any evidence. I decided to embrace the best, non-verbal compliment I could make to my friend’s skills and I came right on the spot.

Not proud of it, but what I experiencing was way too hot, hot beyond my wildest dreams.

I was running out of breath, but the fart didn’t want to end. Even after I came, I still enjoyed every second of that so I kept my nose into that red swamp. 

20 seconds… how is it possible to fart like this? Considering it was all natural, why does a guy like him even need to fart on command? That’s just… too OP, but damn please don’t dare to nerf him.

I finally felt Dave’s hand letting my head go but the blast was still going, so I kept my head there as long as I could… but that was too much even for my trained nostrils.

I got back up, finally breathing some proper air, even though the entire room smelt like shit anyway.

I looked down, Dave’s ass still roaring, with my friend turning around to stare at me with his knowing, smug smirk, as he effortlessly kept casually ripping such a loud fart.

Before I could flee into the bathroom, leaving him to finish ripping this fart alone, Dave bent his legs up and, from behind, easily pulled (or rather, pushed) me down into his ass again, face-farting me for a couple of more seconds.

He then finished ripping the 32-seconds long blast, ending it with a louder toot.

Finally, the room went silent for real.

Dave was laughing like a jerk and finally let me go. I remained a couple of more seconds with my head planted into his wet, red-clad ass (he didn’t seem to mind) until I finally got up and managed to sit on the bed, even though I looked completely startled, unable to function properly.

Can you get drunk on you friend’s farts?

I was speechless, I just didn’t know what to say. 

I knew that Dave was gonna face-fart me tonight but I would have never expected his farts to be this strong, both sound-wise and stench-wise. This was an impressive feat even for him, this fuckin’ man, a man who always rips massive farts around us, around me, and on me.

“Looks like you couldn’t handle it.” he commented, adjusting his position, now lying on his back.

I stuttered something, trying to both thank him and insult him, which he found amusing.

I finally went into the bathroom and, further evidence of Dave’s hot farting skills, I masturbated. I basically had to as I was rock hard again. The sound of his blasts was still echoing into my ears and my nostrils were still burning because of that sewer-like smell. 

I came embarrassingly fast, a matter of dozen of seconds.

As I came, I heard Dave ripping another, muffled fart from the bedroom, a pretty standard one in terms of length… but I was empty, tired, even though it sounded just as good as the previous ones, albeit very short.

I need a cold shower.

Dave is right: I can’t handle this.

…

And I fucking love it.

The End

[sweetwolfcupcake]

Wildflower: 05

The Secret Garden

John Wick x Reader

Category: Short Series

Warning: Physical attack, actual violence and allusion to violence and brutality and concussion

Note: John is relatively younger in this fic( late thirties to early forties)

Thank you @scarlettspectra for making such amazing GIFs.

Unedited

Wildflower 04

With all the commotion in her life– discovering her mother’s letter, moving to New York after a harrowing confrontation with her father that would fester life-long resentments (or at least a decade-long?) discovering that her mother was no more, getting used to the city and its pace— (Y/N) had come to appreciate the quieter aspects of life more than ever– the lazy days, the quiet mornings at a park, or a morning bicycle ride. 

But perhaps, she should have known…It was not her quiet little town, it was New York City. She had barely paid attention to the quiet rustling of approaching footsteps. She was dumb enough to not even register the barrel of the gun until the cold metal was pressing against the back of her neck.

“Don’t you fucking move bitch! Han–me your wallet.” The voice was heavy and slightly slurred. 

She froze— all the self-defence videos she spent watching after arriving in New York evaporated and she stilled as the reality of the situation bucketed down on her like painful, jagged ice. She whimpered when he pressed the metal roughly against her skull, the coldness dug into her and she knew that it would become a scar at the back of her mind if she made it out alive.

“Didn’t you hear me bitch!” he hissed, shoving the gun harder against her skull, it bumped harshly, making her hiss.

“Okay, okay–” As she tried to get up, she was shoved down, falling on her stomach. 

Her knees were bruised, but with the adrenaline urge, she could hardly register the pain against the fear and her heartbeat thundering against her chest– she could even feel it in her head. She whimpered when she felt his footsteps nearing before a rough hand grabbed her hair.

“Don’t play smart with me— I’ll empty this fucking gun in your dense head.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry—please just—don’t hurt me!” She felt tears gathering in the corner of her eyes– one blink and her cheeks were dampening.

Her hands shook as she pulled out her wallet and handed it to him, not even considering playing smart.

She turned to look at the man but he tugged her hair harshly, keeping her still.

“And the ring too!”

Her eyes widened at the demand.

“N–No, No, I can't give you that–please!” 

She screamed when he yanked her hair, her scalp burned as fat tears rolled down her cheeks and she shivered when he snatched her hand that had the ring. Roughly taking it off her finger. Her mother’s ring, her mother’s last gift to her.

 No! No, she couldn't let it go!

“No! Give me back my ring— it—” She turned around as soon as he let go of her hair. But her protests were cut short with the back of the gun striking the side of her head. 

—--

It hurt. That was what she registered first before her waking mind began to register the quietness. There was a beep, but it felt like it was somewhere far– consistent though, and the longer she heard it, the closer it came, speeding up, slowing? No, speeding, no, nothing changed.

She felt her eyelids moving as her mind became more coherent. Opening her eyes was a task— but she managed— it was just one blink first, nothing decipherable. But as she blinked again, she saw something move. A black mass– no, a looming form raising up— it seemed all black. In silence, it stood up and walked out of her sight. She wanted to move her head but it was too heavy to move. Every attempt to move it was rewarded with a deep, encompassing ache originating from the side of her head and spreading all over her skull. It made her whimper.

Was it the sound of shutting the door she heard?

She was not sure anymore, instead, she sank back, relaxing on the fluffy surface– a pillow– right, it was soft and good, and she could go back to sleep.

—--

It felt like she had slept only for a minute more when she woke up again. Much more coherent this time. Registering the beeping monitor and the IV. A bit over the top for concussion. Right, she was hit on the head after she tried to save her mother’s ring from the robber.

Could not even see that rat’s face.

She shut her eyes and took a deep breath. That was so unlike her– calling somone names. But at the same time, it was, for the first time in months that she felt any other intense emotion than grief or resentment. There was a numbness that had gripped her, paralysed her, closed her heart to feeling anything– life went by just as it was, and she felt on autopilot.

But the moment her mother’s ring was snatched, it was like a bucket of ice was thrown at her, breaking her out of the numbness, the void.

She had a purpose— she wanted to go on, and she was willing to go on and live because her mother would have wanted the same. Her mother who loved her, adored her so much and left so many unanswered questions behind. Questions she probably would never get answers to.

But now, the ring was gone and she was looking up to a white hospital ceiling, the room smelt fresh but with a hint of that same old ‘medical’ smell and assessing the private room she was in— it was going to burn a hole in her pocket.

“How are you feeling now?” 

Oh, there was a nurse in there too, adjusting her IV. Her vision was a bit floaty. She blinked and cleared her parched throat.

“I’m… I’m feeling–weird?”

She smiled at (Y/N)’s slow, blinking eyes.

“Concussion, honey. You’re lucky the kind man found you and brought you here. Oh, yes, your things are kept by the bed, check them out and report if something’s missing, hm?” With that, she pressed the button to bend up the upper half of the bed, making her able to sit up slightly.

“Th–thank you… the man’s around? I can thank him.” (Y/N)’s voice was scratchy and her speech came with a bit of effort, but at least the pain was reduced to a dull throbbing. 

“I’m afraid he’s gone. He was there in your room an hour ago. Went away after alerting us that you’re waking up.”

(Y/N) frowned. So, she was not dreaming. She sighed and leaned back, the pillow was big and soft. Slowly, she turned her head to the side, trying to focus on the table by her bed.

She blinked as the gleaming object caught her eyes. The sunlight fell just at the right angle as if presenting it to her, ushering her to pick it up.

Her mother’s ring!

It was her mother’s ring placed on the table. Her movements felt a bit disoriented and slow but she managed to reach out to it and pick it up.

“Oh, mother…Thank you— Thank you to whoever returned this.” She whispered, kissing the ring as tears escaped her eyes.

“Everything good?” The concerned nurse asked.

(Y/N) looked up and nodded her head. If she spoke, she would cry. Assessing her quickly one last time, the nurse left after informing her that the doctor would come to check on her after lunch. 

Well, that would be added to the fat bill, won’t it?

But for now, she realised she was starving, and some overpriced food was all she could have for now, so, she would settle with that. The doctor came after lunch, and she asked about the billing process and insurance.

Only to find that all her bills were paid— she would be discharged the next day– a bit of a stretch– but her vision was still floaty and moving too fast was a task. 

The kind stranger also paid the bills? Food and medicines covered? 

What was he, an angel?

Or was she dreaming? 

When she tried to get to the name, there was surprisingly nothing. Nothing in the sense that the doctor refused to disclose.

Strange.

So, things had magically turned out to be…good?

It was unbelievable but she had her mother’s ring on her finger, the bills were paid and… and she had a private room. With a TV.

All that was left was to inform her superiors regarding her situation. And maybe her family?

She contemplated the latter. She had not spoken to him for more than five minutes on the phone. The texts were–one-worded and with the stubbornness rooted in their family, she knew that it would take time for either of them to thaw.

She sighed and reached for the TV remote. Maybe she would think through things with a clearer head. She adjusted her vision, trying to focus on the TV screen that seemed to annoyingly blur. She shouldn’t be watching TV, but she was stubborn and certified stupid so…

Flicking through the channels mindlessly, she stopped right at an address. A park near her home—wait, it was the same park she was at when she was robbed! It was the park she would go to often to watch the sunrise.

She squinted her eyes, trying to focus on the headlines. There was a dull throbbing in her head intensified, but she could barely pay attention to that. Was she reading right? The face was the same, the one who robbed her.

He was…hospitalised?

For broken ribs, teeth and well some other broken bones.

Apparently, he had mugged many before, but the police could never catch him— or maybe they never bothered. 

 Why would they, it wasn’t a murder yet.

She rolled her eyes at the thought.

But now, he was at a hospital, and once discharged, he would be shoved behind bars. It was only a brief headline before the news ultimately turned to politics. She switched the electronic off and leaned down, trying to relax, and not think too much.

But all she could think of was the chain of events. It now felt surreal almost. She thought she was almost dead, but there she was, safe, comfortable— the most comfortable she could be with a concussion and in a hospital, and the robber had targeted the wrong person this time.

And who was that kind man who brought her to the hospital? Completed formalities, paid the bills in advance, made sure she wouldn’t have to touch a penny from her pocket and just chose to remain anonymous— to a stubborn level? She did not understand.

New York seemed to be too much to handle. 

She felt like she did not belong there. Not like she wanted to find a home in the city, no, but it was like the city itself was giving her a cold, indifferent stare. The towering buildings were not intimidating, but the sense that she was in a completely new and somehow dangerous territory was bothering her. It was disturbing even. 

She felt like an outsider. Not exactly like a ‘small-town-girl’ outsider. It felt like worlds apart. 

Just as she felt in the Continental.

 Everything about the hotel seemed good, posh, just not normal. No matter how much it tried to imitate the ‘normal’, she did not feel a sense of comfort or even a sense of normalcy. There was something off about the hotel. The city did not feel as ‘off’, but the thought would be constantly there at the back of her mind.

(Y/N) rubbed her fingers on her forehead, touching the bandages in the process. Maybe she was thinking too much. Maybe her ‘fresh’ start in New York had begun on the wrong foot. 

Maybe—

Her phone rang.

Oh right, she had texted her senior regarding her accident. Picking up the device, she pressed the button to answer the call.

Here it goes— questions and answers, and more questions.

She sighed mentally while schooling her voice to sound as pleasant as she could at the moment.

—------

The next morning, it was Alex who called her. Even through the phone, she could feel his concern. She had not shown up in the bus they would usually take to commute back home, and of course, Alex noticed. 

“I will be there.”

“No, Alex, there’s no need, I’m okay. I will be discharged this afternoon. You can’t make it then anyway.”

“Why, which hospital is it? I'm coming.”

“Alex, you have a job to do.”

“I will manage (Y/N), just tell me the name and address.”

“Ale–”

“(Y/N), what are friends for if they cannot even be by your side when you need it?”

She sighed and shook her head before giving him the name and address of the hospital.

 There was a short silence.

“Oh.”

She frowned at the unexpected response.

“Alex? You good? It's okay if you can’t—”

“I’ll be there.” He asserted.

“O–okay. Sure, I will be waiting.”

****

Here comes another chapter. I'm sorry if the description of her concussion was incorrect, I'm no expert. Please feel free to correct me.

[beanxiv]

be there for you ; katsuki bakugou

summary: katsuki always takes care of you, it's time to return the favor for your beloved!

word count: 1k

note: i'm finally transferring all of my old work to this acc, you can applaud

warnings: cussing, use of petnames, sick katsuki :(

katsuki took pride in keeping himself fit and healthy. you knew this better than anyone else. he slept early, dressed according to the weather, and ate only what was best for his body (most of the time.) but the one day he left the dorms for his early sunday morning jog, wearing nothing but a tank top and sweats, was the day the sky almost split apart in thundering lightning and rain.

so when katsuki came back to the dorms angry and swearing on everything under the sun-- or, rain?--, dripping wet, and shivering, you were sent to a panic.

he swore he was fine and waved off your worries. he'd just dry off and continue with his day like normal. a little rain wouldn't faze the katsuki bakugou; future number one hero!

yeah, more like number one stubborn shit. (lovingly ofc 🥰)

within the next day he wasn't even able to leave his room for classes. bedridden and extremely unhappy about it.

you weren't allowed to skip classes unless it was an emergency (in your opinion, this was most definitely an emergency), so you settled on waking up early to leave a loving feel better note on his nightstand and some medicine before you left for classes.

to say it was a long day for both of you was an understatement.

for katsuki, he missed you and cursed himself for getting sick and missing school. now he'd be behind all his classmates and forced to catch up when he got back to school.

for you, you also missed your boyfriend and worried about his health. wondering if he took the medicine you left for him. you knew he wouldn't want you to worry about him, but you couldn't help it.

the school day lingered far longer than it usually felt. but as soon as the last dismissal bell rang, you were sprinting to the dorms. you didn't bother knocking when you reached katsuki's door, there was the possibility he was asleep, and you didn't want to bother him.

he was very much awake when you opened the door, and the creak of the hinges made him jump.

"katsuki! what the hell are you doing?"

"fuck.." katsuki stood up from his desk like he just got caught committing a crime. "uh, 'm not doin' anythin'."

his words were tired and slurred. so were his movements.

"you little shit, were you studying??" your words were scolding, but not harsh.

"uh, no." katsuki's eyes darted to the textbook that laid open on his desk, that he was definitely not pouring over two seconds before you walked in.

"i can't believe you-- well actually i can. but that doesn't make this any better!" you moved towards his desk, shutting the notebook and turning back to your workaholic boyfriend. "you didn't rest at all today did you?"

katsuki coughed, unable to blatantly lie to you again. you shook your head and sighed. "did you at least take the medicine i left you?" when he nodded you continued. "good. now, get in bed, i'll change out of my uniform and be back soon."

katsuki knew better than to defy you now. he climbed into his bed with half-hearted grumbles about you bossing him around, and how he's totally fine, doesn't need you to look after him at all.

when you arrive again, katsuki sees that you've brought with you more medicine, a bottle of water water, an extra blanket, and— is that a bowl of ramen? when you noticed katsuki eyeing the steaming bowl you giggled.

"you probably haven't eaten yet, and i know how much you like ramen. although, this one isn't spicy, it'll warm you up just fine."

"thanks, baby..." katsuki mumbled as you placed the meds and blanket on his desk, then settled into bed next to him with the water and ramen.

"i'll get ya sick," katsuki gently shoved you away from his burning body.

you shrugged, "i'd rather be sick with you than for you to be sick alone."

katsuki smiled at the thought of your affection until you placed the water on his night-stand and tried to feed him the ramen.

"what, no i can feed myself, idiot." he turned his face from the spoon of broth you were trying to give him.

at that you frowned, "you're allowed to accept help from others katsuki, especially me. i just wanna be there for you and if you don't let me... then i've failed at my duty as a significant other," you half-joked, placing a dramatic palm to your chest.

katsuki rolled his eyes, "fine." he let you spoon a few bites into his mouth to your delight.

"mm, 's good." katsuki's attitude had deflated and he leaned against your side as you fed him the warm broth. once he'd finished the entire bowl of ramen you settled under the covers with him, they were insanely warm. it made you want to curl up under his chest, wrapped in his arms and the sheets.

as if it was second nature, katsuki did just that-- tucked you under his chin; arms circling around you. he gave you a squeeze and sighed. it was like all his problems went away when you were cuddled into him.

"baby, 'm gonna get you sick." katsuki mumbled against your head.

"but you'll be there to take care of me too, yeah?" you kissed his jaw and katsuki could've sworn his fever increased by a few degrees.

" f'course i will." he returned your kiss, maneuvering his head to place it on your head, right between your eyebrows. no matter how many times katsuki did it-- giving you sweet, innocent kisses would never not give you butterflies that fluttered around your lungs and tickled your stomach.

you giggled against his neck, "well, then. maybe getting sick doesn't sound so bad."

like and rblg if you enjoyed!

© beanxiv — all rights reserved. copying, reposting, translating, and modifying in any platform or by any means is not allowed.

[onwednesdayswewrite]

all signs point to you chapter 1

Summary: All Wednesday wanted to do was go to the library to get a book, is that such a hard ask? She sure didn’t plan on falling in love. 

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x deaf!Reader

Warnings: threats of bodily harm from Wednesday 

Word Count: 1.8k

Hey y’all! I’m not actual deaf or HOH but I've done a lot research and spoken to my partner’s best friend but may not gotten everything right so please let me know! 

all signs point to you masterlist

--------------------------------------------------------------------

When Wednesday Addams stepped into the dusty Jericho Public Library that Saturday morning, she had one thing on her mind: Helter Skelter: The True Stories of the Manson Murders By Vincent Bugliosi. Thunder rolled outside, and it seemed to ignite something within the young Addams girl.  As her ebony braids dripped water onto her uniform, she remembered Enid making a fuss about the coming storm on the way into town, but frankly, Wednesday thought it was turning into a beautiful day.

If it weren’t for the tell-tale squeak of her platform shoes against the linoleum floor, onlookers would have thought Wednesday was floating under her Nevermore skirt with how she seemed to glide as she moved. She felt their glares harden when they realized a Nevermore student had ventured into this part of town. Others would have faltered under the judgment of their gaze, however, Wednesday rolled her shoulders and stalked on. She wouldn’t let some insignificant normies ruin her perfect day with her perfect book. 

“Good morning,” the older librarian called out from behind the large oak desk. Her sickly sweet smile made bile rise in Wednesday’s throat, she couldn’t stand anyone that excited before she was caffeinated. Wednesday had already stopped herself from committing a crime once this morning, a second would be far too much. Part of her was thankful that she had sent Enid to the Weathervane to prevent blood from spilling over excessive headphone volume, although a quad over ice was a tempting thought.

Wednesday didn’t let the thought bother her for too long, all she had to do was get this book, and then she could get her quad. The library wasn’t a very large one, and if Wednesday were to comment on it, she might say that it had something to do with the intelligence level of the town.  Wednesday knew she couldn’t say much though for Nevermore had committed literary atrocity by not having the book themselves. Wednesday knew the Dewey decimal system like the back of Thing’s hand and it didn’t take her long to track it. 364.1523. The numbers seemed to shine out to her. True crime, perfect. 

For the Thrill of It: Leopold, Loeb, and the Murder That Shocked Chicago by Simon Baatz

The Burning of Bridget Cleary by Angela Bourke

An empty space. 

Outrage: The Five Reasons Why O.J. Simpson Got Away With Murder by Vincent Bugliosi

In Cold Blood by Truman Capote

“How curious,” Wednesday whispered to herself at the sight of the missing book, though she heard Thing shift around in her backpack, trying to be nosy. For a brief moment, Wednesday was almost impressed, maybe there was some hope that someone else in this town had good taste and was at least somewhat competent. However, it didn’t last long for the realization to set in and Wednesday’s blood turned cold. Heads would roll today. 

Wednesday Addams was a perpetual creature of habit, and the slight change had her reeling. This was NOT part of the plan. Wednesday’s eyes started darting around to see if maybe some imbecile had placed it in the wrong spot. 

Just when Wednesday felt the stone in her stomach getting heavier and heavier, her eyes caught something that piqued her interest. Helter Skelter’s bright red writing against the pitch-black background stuck out of the top of a blue and purple tie-dye backpack. A normie girl. Hardly a worthy adversary, this would be easy. 

By now, Thing had wiggled free from his prison. His freshly manicured nails (courtesy of his bff, Enid) tapped on Wednesday's shoulder to grab her attention, his fingers moving about randomly. “No, I don’t know what I’m going to do yet,” Wednesday barked at the hand on her shoulder, resisting every urge in her body to swat him off. The way Wednesday saw it she had two options, either confront you, or tuck her tail between her legs and return Nevermore without her book. The latter simply just wasn’t going to happen.

When Wednesday approached, you were mostly concealed by a huge stack of books up over your head at the edge of the desk. Your head ducked down, reading the book beneath your fingertips. 

The Stranger Beside Me by Ann Rule

Ted Bundy was another commendable choice. Wednesday couldn’t help but have some respect for you. She observed for a moment longer, hoping you would feel the black cloud looming over you, but you didn’t stir one bit. She made an attempt to clear her throat to get your attention, but still nothing. Were you really going to make her ask?

“Can I borrow your book?” Wednesday’s voice broke through the otherwise silent atmosphere of the library. Wednesday was half expecting you to turn and make a scene about Thing on her shoulder but instead, the only response she got was you flipping the page in your book. Clearly, you have read enough of your books to know what happens when you face the wrong person. Did you not know who she was? What she was capable of? 

Thing scurried down the length of her arm and hopped down onto the book on the top of the tall stack next to you. 

Smoke Gets in Your Eyes: And Other Lessons from the Crematory by Caitlin Doughty

His fingers pushed the book to the edge of the stack, and it tumbled down onto the ground, hitting with a loud bang. others in the library jumped and sent glares in Wednesday's direction, but all she could focus on was you. Wednesday felt her stomach harden again and her chest began to feel tight. You hadn’t even flinched.

Her jaw clenched as she snatched the fallen book off of the floor. If you weren’t even going to acknowledge her, then she was going to steal your book and that wasn’t the only thing she was going to do. You would pay for this. 

Wednesday threw herself down into the chair diagonal from you, her hands clenching and then splaying out. She needed to relax, or she would never be able to think clearly.

She wanted nothing more than to grab you by the hair and drag you into the bathroom to drown you in the toilet, but that seemed too easy.

A pool of piranhas was a viable option. Maybe this time she will succeed.

“Howdy R-woah Wednesday what’s wrong” Enid stopped dead in her tracks at the site of her roommate. Fingers gripping onto the table so hard they were turning blue and Thing defensively standing on her shoulder.

“Planning a homicide” Wednesday deadpanned, her eyes never leaving the sight of you still flipping through the pages of the book.

Enid paid no mind to Wednesday’s comment as this wasn’t unusual for her. Instead, she placed the plastic Weathervane to-go cup in front of Wednesday, her other arm, reaching across the table to wave up and down softly just in your peripheral vision. You’ve lifted your head and smiled at her, seemingly completely unaware of everything that just happened. 

Enid greeted you with a motion of her hands, and you seemed to respond, understanding. Wednesday must’ve let her confusion known to her roommate, and Wednesday watched as a realization crossed Enid's face about her previous comment. Enid’s pastel nails turned to claws as she clenched her fists. 

“Wednesday, Y/N is deaf” Enid scolded through gritted teeth. Wednesday had heard this tone of voice before and Enid only used it when Wednesday was truly in trouble. Wednesday felt what she only imagined to be shame run through her body as she watched your eyes track Enid’s lips trying to figure out what she had said. Wednesday could’ve sworn she heard a low growl come from Enid’s throat as she narrowed her eyes and shot Wednesday one last painful glare, and turned to continue her conversation with you. 

Despite Enid’s reprimanding, Wednesday still wanted nothing more than the book she came for. Wednesday again couldn’t help but commend you for your lack of reaction to Thing scampering down her arm and onto the table.  Instead, you smiled and waved. Thing’s phalanges moved about wildly in a way Wednesday thought communicated her need for the book. 

Your head cocked to the side and you chuckled. What had she done now? No matter how hard she tried to hide it, Wednesday felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment. She never liked this feeling and did her best to shake it off.

You held up one finger and told your backpack across the table. You pulled the small zipper bag out causing Helter Skelter to slip across the desk a little, just out of Wednesday's reach. From the small pouch, you pulled out two cochlear implants.

“What I think Wednesday was trying to ask is can she borrow your book?” Enid finally communicated once your processors and magnets were in place.

“Absolutely” a small broke through on your face, as your hands signed out of habit “ it’s nice to meet you Wednesday, I’m Y/N” your hand reached out for her, but she remained deadly still. Enid was prompt in delivering a sharp kick to Wednesday’s shin, and that was enough to kick her into action. 

Her hand reached out to yours and Wednesday felt a spark of electricity. Not one like when Uncle Fester pranked her, but this one was something different. This kind made her head feel foggy, and she felt something strange in her stomach, not hard as she felt before, but almost like something was moving and crawling around in there, and she couldn’t think straight. She almost missed you sliding the book to her.

“Have you read it before? It’s a really good read. Did you know after he died, Manson wanted his body displayed in the glass case, but his fiancé never followed through with his wishes?” Wednesday observed as your eyes seemed to come alive, and an excited smile found its way onto your face that almost made Wednesday forget to grab the book.  Wednesday made a mental note to remember that in the future, serial killers made you happy. 

Wednesday felt another feeling start to stir in the bottom of her stomach, this one different than the ones she had felt before. One she had only felt uttered between her parents. Wednesday waited with bated breath for the usual nausea to rise in her throat, but it never came. However, for one quick moment, Wednesday thought she felt her cold, dead heart give a soft beat in her chest.  

Suddenly the idea of a piranha-filled vat sounded appealing again. She would hang you upside down and let their sharp teeth nibble on your arms. Maybe then you would tell her why you made her feel that horrible feeling in the bottom of her stomach. Why does she feel so drawn to you. Why her mind felt cloudy when you smiled, and more importantly why she couldn’t wait to feel it again.

[ihavemanyhusbands]

I Need You (18+)

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

You've been casually hooking up with Aaron for a while, but even if you want something more, things aren't always so simple.

WC: 2.7k words

Warnings - SMUT!! MINORS DNI (18+), HEAVY on the angst lol, cursing, p in v, oral (f receiving), casual-ish sex, unprotected (don't be silly wrap ur willy and whatnot pls), not sure what else so lmk if I missed anything!

A/N: Omg ive been so burnt out from work I'm so sorry i promise im still writing my queue of reqs but for the sake of my sanity I needed to write this lmao I had this idea suddenly and I just LOVE ANGST!!! So I had to! Considering writing a part 2 to give them a happy ending lol in the meantime, hope you like!

It was the perfect night to stay inside. It was raining so hard that it threatened to become a deluge, thunder rumbling in the distance and only getting closer. You had brought out a couple of blankets to the living room to snuggle under, a cheesy old horror movie waiting for you on the TV. 

You dumped popcorn into a big bowl and poured yourself some more wine, humming along to a song that was stuck in your head. 

Because you weren’t expecting anyone at all, you were in full-on slob mode. Your pajamas consisted of an oversized t-shirt with a picture of Garfield and Odie on the front, along with yellow underwear that had “Tuesday” stitched on them – even if it was actually Friday. 

Your hair was braided into two pigtails, still damp from the shower. You always loved how it looked all wavy right after undoing them in the morning, like you’d just been at the beach.

Outside, there was a quick, bright flash of lightning, and you really hoped the lights wouldn’t go out. From the kitchen, you almost didn’t hear the knocking on your front door. You’d been counting the seconds between that flash and the inevitable growl of the skies – One, two, three, four, five…

But then you registered the desperate, staccato rhythm of fists pounding on wood. You rushed towards the door, peering through the peephole before throwing the door open. 

Standing on the threshold, drenched from head to toe, was the handsome Aaron Hotchner. It was at that same moment that thunder decided to rumble, but you’d long since stopped counting. The two of you momentarily stared at each other, almost as if in disbelief. 

Aaron had been your neighbor for some time now, living just at the end of the block. Still, despite the proximity, you didn’t see him very often, so your heart began racing at this turn of events.

His gaze roamed over you, taking you in, but you didn’t feel self-conscious. He always made you feel confident and sexy, no matter what you were wearing… or not wearing. He flexed his fingers anxiously, like he wanted to reach out but was holding himself back.

“May I come in?” he asked, breaking the spell you were both under.

You nodded quickly, stepping aside to let him in. He took his shoes off as you helped him remove his blazer, hanging it up by the door. You dashed toward your bathroom to retrieve a towel and handed it to him. 

“Thanks,” he murmured, toweling off his hair first. It was the most disheveled you’d ever seen it, and you’d ran your hands through it plenty of times in the past. It was a charming sight, really.

“Did you just get back?” You asked.

He nodded, draping the towel on his shoulders. You could see the bags under his eyes and the tense set of his shoulders, which you immediately wanted to help ease. 

Some time ago, he’d confided with you that he was a profiler for the FBI. He often traveled to aid in all sorts of cases, sometimes having to be away for extended periods of time, but he’d never disclosed any details about any of them.

 It was the reason you rarely saw him, but you didn’t really have the right to complain, since you two weren’t actually together. Instead, you took what you could get. 

“Come sit, you must be exhausted,” you said, starting to lead him to the living room. 

“I am,” he sighed heavily, reaching out to grab your hand to stop you. “But I just… needed to see you.”

Drawing you closer, he snaked his arms around your waist, and you rested your hands against his chest. You wiped a strand of dark hair away from his forehead, looking into his bewitching dark brown eyes. A soft smile tugged at your lips.

You remembered well the day you met him, out on the run around the neighborhood. The two of you had looked at each other and just kind of… stopped, unable to help it. It was as if the connection had been immediate.

The two of you spent the rest of that day walking around and talking, quickly finding out you lived on the same street. As time passed, one thing led to another, and soon you found yourself under him, your moans a melody in his ears.

But even if you had a burning desire for more, things were kept purely physical between the two of you. He’d explained his job was very demanding, and he wasn’t able to keep a serious relationship at the moment.

Once, he’d even told you that being with him would be risky for a myriad of reasons. And yet, he admitted he didn’t think he could keep himself totally away from you.

You said you didn’t mind, wanting to keep seeing him too, betraying your heart in the process. You found that each time you saw him, you fell just a little bit more for him. It was hard not to.

Not that you would tell him this, of course. It felt a little… selfish to feel that way. So just being around him was enough for the time being.

“Welcome home, I’m really glad you’re here,” you whispered, fingers trailing over his shoulders. “Why don’t we get you out of these wet clothes and warm you up? I can take care of you.”

His gaze became heated, and without another word, he bent down to kiss you. His hands cradled your face as you opened your mouth, granting his tongue access. 

You began undoing the buttons of his shirt, fumbling a little as your tongue tangled with his. You did not stop kissing him even as you slid it off of him, along with his undershirt. You pressed yourself against him, his cool skin a nice contrast against all the warmth you emanated. His hands traveled south, towards the hem of your shirt. 

You only separated for a moment as he pulled it over your head, but then he was on you again, kissing not just your lips, but your jaw and neck as well. You sighed contentedly, eyes fluttering closed as you surrendered to pleasure. 

“I needed you so bad,” he rasped against your throat. “I missed your smell, your softness.”

You melted at his words. It had not been easy to get Aaron to speak so freely. It definitely took a lot of patience and understanding, as well as a lot of honesty of your own. That feeling of mutual trust was not one you took lightly.

“I’m here,” you assured him, tangling your fingers in his hair as his lips trailed further down, leaving open mouthed kisses in their wake.

He took one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. Your back arched as his hand tweaked your other nipple, at the same time that his teeth lightly grazed the sensitive skin. He smirked at your sharp intake of breath.

Then suddenly, you yelped as he pulled back only to pick you up, carrying you to your bedroom. He gently laid you down on the bed, undoing his belt and kicking his pants off before crawling over you. His mouth was back on you, licking and sucking and kissing all the places he knew would make you squirm.

“Oh, Aaron…” you sighed. “Did I mention I missed you too?”

“I know, baby, I know,” he said, planting a salacious kiss on your navel. “I’m gonna make you feel so good to make up for it.”

You couldn’t help but shiver in anticipation. 

He chuckled at your choice of underwear, eyes gleaming with fondness as he looked up at you. You gave him a sheepish smile as he pulled them down, kissing your thighs as he pushed them apart. Your hips jerked as he dove forward, licking a long, languid stripe through your folds. He groaned against your skin at the taste of you, inserting his tongue into your center.  

You fisted the sheets as you rocked your hips, seeking more friction. He brought a hand up to keep you steady, thumb brushing over your sensitive clit. The way you whimpered and moaned for him was glorious. He knew the sound would be stuck in his head for days to come. His mouth replaced his thumb on your clit, and he insterted one finger into you as he sucked your bundle of nerves between his lips. 

“Holy fuck,” you hissed, fingers tangling in his hair. “Don’t stop, please…”

Your wish was his command, so he only doubled his efforts, inserting a second finger into you. Your muscles tensed, and you were unable to utter any more coherent words. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you kept his head in place, that tight coil that had formed in your stomach finally snapping. He felt you clench hard around his fingers as you came, pride swelling in his chest. 

When he rose to his knees, the lower half of his face glistened with your arousal, and he was smiling with utter satisfaction. If there was one thing he truly enjoyed – and was really good at – it was giving you as many orgasms as he could. He loved seeing the heavy rise and fall of your chest, along with the blush that spread over your cheeks and nose. The beatific smile that inevitably followed, always directed at him. He would never tire of it.

This time, you pulled him towards you, kissing him fiercely, humming at the taste of yourself on his tongue. He groaned, helping you pull his briefs down before settling his hips between your legs.

“I need you,” you whispered against his lips, bucking your hips so his hardened length slid against your soaked pussy.

He wanted to tease you a little bit more, to make you beg, but the need to be inside you was much greater. Reaching a hand down, he lined himself up with your entrance and ever-so-slowly sank into you. He leaned his forehead against yours, both of you exhaling sharply when he was fully seated inside of you.

Your thighs squeezed his hips as he began to thrust slowly, letting you feel every inch of him. You’d missed the feeling of him stretching you, his body flush against yours, unsure of where you ended and he began. 

Soon he picked up the pace, groaning out your name as the obscene sounds of flesh slapping together filled the room. 

“You take me so well…” he praised between pants, feeling your walls flutter around him at his words. 

“H-harder, Aaron, please,” you begged. “Fuck… your cock just feels so good.”

He couldn’t deny you anything, truly. Pulling back a little, he brought your legs up so your ankles rested on his shoulders. He felt impossibly deep at this angle, the sensation close to being overwhelming, but not in a bad way. He pounded into you, and you gripped his shoulders tightly, as if attempting to anchor yourself.

Your mouth was slack in pleasure, brows furrowed and eyes fluttering closed. His name fell from your lips like a prayer, completely at his mercy. His movements soon became more erratic, hips jutting at an irregular rhythm. When he realized he was close, he wanted you to come along with him, so his hand snaked down between you. He rubbed your clit in quick, tight circles, your muscles tensing once again. 

“C-can I…” he tried to formulate, unable to finish his sentence.

You understood him all the same, nodding enthusiastically. “Yes, inside me, please!”

Mere seconds after you said that, the two of you stumbled into oblivion, unable to hold back any longer. You cried out his name as he groaned, movements halting as he spent inside of you, his cock twitching. He shuddered as he felt you clench around him, milking out his orgasm.

“There’s a good girl. You like coming for me, don’t you?” He grunted, smirking at your flushed features.

You smiled demurely at his words, nodding. “Oh, I love it.”

As he started to come down from his high, he continued to gaze down at you adoringly, kissing your calf as he gently brought your legs back down. In his eyes, you were the most glorious sight of all, completely bare and undone. All thanks to him. 

Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he already felt like you were his. Despite keeping you at an arms length, he held his feelings for you close to his chest. He cared too much about you to put you in any sort of danger, which was why he did not let himself have what he truly wanted. 

He lied on the bed facing you, pulling you closer to him and kissing the top of your head. You nuzzled his neck, breathing him in and rejoicing in the feeling of having him here, all to yourself. At least for the time being. 

“I think this is my favorite part,” you said against his skin, almost purring at the feeling of his fingers stroking your hair.

He huffed in response, staring vacantly at the wall, deep in thought. It had to be his favorite part, too. He could feel as your heart rate slowed to a steady rhythm, matching his. Your lips planting lazy little kisses all over his throat.

To have you like this felt incredibly selfish, and he hated himself for putting you in this position. He couldn’t help his thoughts from beginning to spiral, depite the influx of euphoria running throughout his body.

“Have you ever…” he began, clearing his throat as he searched for his courage. “Thought of seeing somebody else?”

You pulled back to frown at him, but he didn’t meet your gaze. “What?”

“I mean, is just this good enough for you? Don’t you ever want more?”

“W-where is this coming from?” You asked, pulling further back. “Did you meet someone? Is this your way of telling me?”

He quickly shook his head. “No, nothing like that. I guess I just have a hard time believing you’re content with seeing me only every so often, no commitment, no guarantee of anything… I can’t think of the reason why.”

You averted your eyes. “Does there have to be a reason?”

He shrugged, unsure of what to say. Frankly, there were instances in which you wondered the same thing, but deep down, you already knew the answer. You were scared of facing it, yes, but you were even more scared of him finding out.

“Well, to be clear, if I didn’t want you around – if I didn’t want this – you wouldn’t be here right now,” you said, idly tracing patters in the sheet beneath you with your finger. “So maybe you’re just gonna have to take my word for it.”

Sometimes you truly couldn’t understand why he thought the world would be out to get you for being with him. You were no one, you reasoned. You were merely a sinful secret, a reprieve from the harsh realities of the world. Realities that he never wanted you to witness, especially not after everything he knew you’d already been through.

You were yet to teach him that you truly could take care of yourself, too. In due time, perhaps.

With a deep sigh, he wordlessly embraced you once more, keeping you close for a long moment. He tried to memorize the velvety soft feel of your skin, the light freesia scent of your shampoo, and how you would always eagerly melt into his kiss. He’d need something to hold on to until the next time he saw you.

“Are you going to stay tonight?” You asked softly, wanting to pretend a little longer.

He nodded, looking down to meet your gaze as you pulled back once more. “But I have a really early start tomorrow. I’ll probably be gone before you wake up.”

You stroked his cheek tenderly, silently holding his gaze for a moment. 

“How many times are we supposed to say goodbye to each other, you think?”

“As many as it takes.”

Until it’s real. Until either of us actually means it.

[poeticpascal]

Nightmare (Joel Miller x Reader)

Masterlist | Request here!

Summary: Every night, Y/N's screams are heard throughout Jackson. Her nightmares haunt her in the darkness, but when she meets an equally plagued Joel Miller, they find safety together.

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: nightmares, PTSD, panic attacks, mentions of violence, reader kills a clicker, mentions of traumatic past, angst with a fluffy ending

A/n: Hi all! Thank you so much for coming by to read my fic. This is my first Joel fic, and actually my first fic posted on Tumblr in a few years now. I'm so excited about this, and I can't wait to carry on writing for Joel - so get your requests in!

--------

She wasn’t quite sure when the nightmares started.

It was always the same decrepit faces and monstrous forms that had once hunted her each day, the memories bleeding into the night, every night. For so long that even now, from the safety of her small apartment in Jackson where she grew strawberries on her balcony and tended to the horses at the yard, she couldn’t shake the lucidity of the horrors she’d faced.

It made her feel weak. Everybody in Jackson had lived through the outbreak. They’d all surely ran from the monsters, or looters. They’d all scavenged and prayed and survived for this long. They’d all lost someone.

And yet it was only her screams that rang through the streets each night.

The community were understanding for the most part - when she’d first arrived in Jackson a few years ago, it had been Tommy who stayed with her through the night, keeping watch and holding a warm flannel to her head when she cried. Maria would brew tea, made with sweet herbs and honey, to help calm her as the evening rolled in. She never understood the couple’s kindness; of all the folk in their town, she was the least deserving of such generosity. They told her otherwise.

Joel Miller arrived not long after she did, actually. He was plagued too, by the ghosts of his past, and they related to each other in that way. He didn’t scream like she did, his throat wasn’t hoarse and sore each morning; his pain was silent, overwhelming, pouring from him in sweat and tears that forced their way out and painted his skin.

Their friendship was immediate, their… something following straight after. Neither knew what to call it - just an inclination towards one another, drawn together and deeply at home in each other’s presence. They were almost weary of the intensity of it, how two strangers felt so suddenly overcome with partnership, but the first night she slept in his bed marked something deeper than either of them expected.

It was innocent; Joel had come to visit her at the stables, as he often did on Saturday afternoons. It was their ‘thing’. And though neither of them would say it, that small pocket of togetherness was the most endeared part of their week. He wouldn’t say much, mostly grunting as she talked to show her he was listening, but he’d stay for hours and when evening came, kiss her cheek and walk her home. On that particular Saturday, as they walked home saying not much at all but holding a sweet silence between them, they heard the thunder crack above and a flash of lightning strike. Joel’t go to all the trouble while secretly hoping he’d never stop.

Joel guided her to his house, it was closer. He found warm clothes, draped her in his fuzzy cardigan that was fresh from the dryer, and brewed tea on the stove while she insisted he needn’t go to all the trouble while secretly hoping he’d never stop.

He’d been so gentle with her, slowly peeling back the covers and allowing her to nestle in, before tucking the sides of his sheets under the mattress until he was satisfied she was secure. It was a small act, one he ultimately knew would never protect anyone if danger arose; but safety was a ration he often couldn’t afford, and he bought it where he could.

“Stay.”

He knew she’d ask. She knew he’d agree. It had all been for show really - his offer to take the couch, hers to make her way back home. They both knew they’d end up here, and neither knew what to make of the way their synchronous feelings, how so much discussion could seemingly be had without barely a word being spoken. They just aligned; no secrecy, no other intent. Just two people, who for so long believed their only way forward was alone, suddenly so intertwined in one another that ear-against-chest, arms-over-waist, was the default they had no inclination to oppose.

Her bliss that night, in Joel’s embrace, had pushed the nightmares to the back of her mind as she drifted off beside him. But they were there, they were always there. Waiting for her relentless walls to stand unguarded as sleep took over her mind. Joel was downstairs when it happened. He’d had to leave the bed; his nightmares found him just as easily. Slowly, regrettably, untangling her limbs from his and ensuring her comfort before toeing downstairs and bracing himself against the coffee table, he’d been steadying his beating heart for what felt like hours before her screams rang out and his adrenaline shot skyward. He sprinted upstairs, barging into the bedroom where she lay there, alone, crynig and thrashing against invisible restraints.

For all his brooding, silence and gritty composure, Joel was floored. He knew she was troubled, that the horrors of the outbreak had scarred her more than most, he didn’t quite catch on to just how plagued she was until now, as the sheer terror in her screams seemed to almost manifest in dark shadows and shapes above her. He crept forward, slowly starting to call her name, unsure if he should touch her, shake her awake, or just speak into the darkness and hope his voice gets through. He sat on the bed, raised a shaky hand - not yet recovered from his own panic attack just minutes earlier - and gently pushed the matted hair from her forehead. She reacted to the touch, arching her back and crying “no, no, please no.”

Joel grimaced, retracting his hand and saying her name again, more desperate this time. He panicked, so scared and so unsure, reaching for his phone and frantically clicking through his contacts before finding what he was looking for. The phone rang just once, before the receiver picked up and mumbled a sleepy, “Joel?”

“Tommy - you need to get here.”

--------

The stable visits stopped after that night. She’d watch the clock as it ticked, the evening sky hanging ever-heavier over the sun’s horizon, hours passing and no sign of Joel. It was only when the stable manager, an elderly man who had his fair share of tragedy, insisted it was time to go that she packed up her things and wandered home alone.

It had been three weeks since then.

Three Saturday’s spent alone in the yard. Three Fridays of being sat at the pub, drinking with Tommy and Maria as she did most weeks, but with a piece missing this time. Three weeks of closing her eyes, imagining his embrace, but succumbing to her demons all the same. It seemed almost worse now, since that night at Joel’s house.

It was a Thursday, when her slot on patrol rolled up. She was able to do it less now, what with her time spent at the stables, but her skills made her valuable on the outskirts of town and more than anything, she felt indebted to the people of Jackson. Those who had homed her, and fed her, and protected her from herself.

It was usually an easy gig. Spend the day hiking, occasionally reacting to rustles or strange sounds, quickly realising it was just an animal of some kind. Deer, typically; they’d grown in population in the forests around Jackson in recent years.

That’s why, when a quiet grunt-type noise came through the forest, she’d reacted with haste, but less concern. And when the clicker appeared, stumbling towards emitting painful groans, she seized up, afraid and paralysed by the overwhelm of her senses the thing brought. Its smell was pungent, encapsulating. Its appearance was just as sordid as the rest, a living corpse overrun by infection. And by God, she could taste the metallic tang of blood on her tongue, a memory of each and every run in she’d had with these creatures.

Her sudden freeze didn’t last long; she’d lived like this for years, and as if on auto-pilot, not really pulling the controls herself, she shot the thing dead in a matter of seconds. But that didn’t mean it was over. It was never over, and her skin pricked so tightly it felt like tiny needles piercing her body again and again. She ran back through the town’s gates, reported what she’d seen, and hurried home in a trance-like state. It was still the day time, late afternoon at best, but the horrors of her every night had encroached into the daylight and found its grasp. 

She hadn’t moved from her spot against the door since she arrived home. She’d managed to unlock it despite her shaking hands, locked it back up from the inside and employed the deadbolts she hadn’t used for months now, then fell against the drywall and slid down in a haze. Nothing was safe anymore. Not the plants she grew, or the animals she cared for. Not the people she knew in this town. Not the ones she loved. And God, all she wanted was him. It was the first time she’d truly acknowledged a real love for him in her mind, and it came at the worst time when nothing felt right and all she could think was how she needed him, how she needed to protect him, and how she wished he was there protecting her. Her sight clouded, dark shadows all-encompassing, and screams crawled from her throat in the same way they did in her sleep except now she was awake, she felt the ache in her throat, and she couldn’t stop the cries from making it worse.

Memories sped through her vision like a slide show, so real that she’d have believed she was in each moment, had it not been for the way they all intermingled with one another and melted into a movie of atrocity. The blood, and the fear, and the banging. There was banging. It was loud and incessant, piercing her ears and heightening the tension as she buried her face into her knees and screamed her lungs out. The banging continued, heavy and unforgiving, and suddenly she heard her name. Clear, loud, distressed. It was her name, and it was almost spoken by a familiar voice, except her ears were full and her whole body was shaking and-

Her front door collapsed in, a plume of dust erupting where it fell. She shrieked, pushing herself backwards through the hall, eyes open but seeing nothing at all. Hands grabbed her, with less aggression than she anticipated, and through the chaos a gentle but panicked voice emerged.

“Y/N, Y/N baby please, you gotta hear me. You’re okay, honey. I’ve got you, you’re okay.”

Something seemed to click, and her sharp cries became full-bodied sobs. Her previously hyper-tense frame caved in on itself, collapsing into Joel’s arms as he placed his chin over her head, enveloping as much of her as he could and whispering over again that he had her.

He rocked her, back and forth, back and forth. His thighs burned, still crouched down in her hallway, but he barely noticed. Only she mattered to him, in that moment and in every other, and as her wailing ceased and only a shivering frame remained, he could only remember one other time he’d held anybody this tightly.

She was so exhausted, if he hadn’t known any better, he’d have thought she was drunk. Her legs failed her as he tried to stand up, so he scooped her up and carried her to her room. He didn’t change her, or make the bed, or check the temperature; none of that mattered. He only laid her down, and wrapped her softly in bedding that smelled so much sweeter than his own. He lay beside her, pulling her shaking form into him, sighing in relief as he felt her nose nuzzle the crux of his neck.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was weak, more of a squeak than anything else. Joel held her tighter, kissing the top of her head again and again, all but burying himself in her.

“No, baby. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I saw one.”

“I know.”

Silence.

She trusted him, and his calmness reassured her. Like if he thought things were okay, they would be. The tightness in her chest eased, the trembling simmered, though her body felt weak and empty as he rubbed the small of her back with one hand and cradled her head with the other.

“We’re okay.”

Joel said nothing else. Somehow, in their synchronicity, he knew he didn’t need to.

[kiriiqt]

In the meantime with the Diluc fic, would you happen to have any spare Scara headcanons?

SPOILER WARNING FOR 3.2

Like how he reacts to seeing reader taking care of him when he wakes up after losing the gnosis? That was a LONG fall and it looked like he landed on his head, so he was probably knocked unconscious. (RIP his hat) Or tbh any general hc's you have for him if this is too specific! Thank you so much for sharing your hard work with us!

taking care of scaramouche after his fall

- scaramouche is surprised to wake up in one piece, but he's even more surprised to see you there taking care of him.

characters: scaramouche x reader a/n: thank you so much for requesting! and no worries about being too specific, it actually helps me out. fun fact; scary is one of my favorite characters so I have a lot of spare headcanons about him. as always, feel free to request again if I misunderstood anything. also, this dragged out im so sorry. warnings: kinda angsty, descriptions of illness, sleep paralysis, an attempt at slow buildup of a relationship. some beta, we cling on like signora simps do.

I kept it vague as to what you and Scaramouche were before the Sumeru Arc, but you two did know each other, and you were working against him somehow.

Scaramouche spends a long time out of it. He’s not exactly had an easy life, and artificial god-form or not, the gnosis probably did a number on his body and mind - especially when it was taken away. Even with Nahida’s care, his body is incredibly weak, and he’s being plagued by nightmares and horrible memories. He’s essentially as weak and defenseless as a newborn child, and when he finally wakes up, he has to come to terms with the fact that he needs to start over. Again.

You and Scaramouche don't acknowledge each other for a while; His pride has taken a serious beating, and part of him refuses to believe that you're willingly taking care of him. He's sure it's a ploy of sorts, to put him in debt to you, one he couldn't possibly pay off - not that he's planning to. Meanwhile, you're twisting your own thoughts; truthfully, you pity him, but the constant reminder of what he's done in his lifetime - puppet or not - is washing over you like an incoming storm, and not even Nahida's words can alleviate that form of guilt.

You two get into a routine; you make sure he eats, drinks and sleeps, you put him through the rehabilitation program Nahida made, and you keep quiet every morning when his eyes are red and face is swollen from crying. You don't call out his poor excuses, and you don't ask for anything in return for your care. Scaramouche doesn't thank you anyway - at best he scoffs at you, glaring as if you were the one to take his gnosis. Most of the time, he's zoned out - pretending you're not there at all.

A few weeks pass by, and he's finally capable of walking by himself again - his mood seems better, and he's not on the verge of passing out just from crossing the room anymore. He's been outside again, although only on the balcony, but it's improvement, and he thinks so as well. You don't mention it, but it's obvious in the way his lips curl, and the way his eyes light up when the wind brushes past him. It makes a small smile break through your own frown. Still, recovery can be cruel with its ups and downs - and the world wouldn't let you forget that.

It takes a flare up - a bad one - for Scaramouche to finally acknowledge you. Waking up, he's thrown from one nightmare into another, his limbs paralyzed and eyes wide open, hot, searing pain pierces through him like hellfire, and for a second he thinks he's dying. He wants to scream, he needs to, but his throat feels raw and he can't move. His stomach churns at the sight of the world around him distorting, comforting green color bleeding into hues of red and purple; shapes breaking free from the chaos, faces he can recognize, voices he can recognize, pounding on his head like thunder strikes. And then - it stops.

You're gently shaking him awake, placing a cold cloth on his head and explaining something about another fever, but your words barely reach him. Your voice does, though; and while his head still feels as if it's being pounded against a wall, body engulfed in pain, you somehow pulled him out of that waking nightmare. And by the Archons, has he never been more fucking grateful to you in his life.

Still, he can't do anything; the pain overwhelms his senses, and closing his eyes feels like falling into a dark pit, spinning rapidly, and nausea washes over him again. He's not sure how much time passes, but it feels like an eternity - until, eventually, the pain stops.

Four days, you tell him. The flare up lasted four days; a high fever, but he's experienced it before. Part of him is thankful for not remembering it. You then tell him that it wasn't his first time experiencing sleep paralysis, either; and he wonders just how many times you've seen him like this. You shake your head when asked, another frown on your face. He decides not to pry.

You turn to leave, conversation seemingly over, but stop briefly when he utters a meek "Thanks". So quiet you could miss it, and part of him honestly hopes you did. He doesn't get a reply - but you leave with a small smile on your face.

From then on, things seem to improve between the two of you. It starts awkwardly. Scaramouche, or, Wanderer, as he asks you to call him for the time being, isn’t one to open up, and you’re not too keen on the idea of rambling about your days, when most of them are spent taking care of him or helping the traveler, with very little time left for yourself. Still, you manage to chat somehow - going from smalltalk, to Cyno’s bad jokes, to icebreakers that Nahida suggests - until eventually, conversation flows naturally between the two of you. You begin to bring him out of the sanctuary - in disguise, of course - and on those walks that get longer and longer the better he feels, there is little to do but chat about your lives. You get to experience what he’s like normally, and although he acts like a little shit, it’s nice to see him look a little more alive than he did before.

Nahida still has him under strict supervision, but as long as you’re with him, he’s fine to go out. Well, it could be anyone, really, but Dehya and him are at eachothers throats within minutes, Nilou simply refuses to be near him, and he’s told both Al Haitham and Cyno to go suck it one too many times (and that's among the nicer things he’s said to them). So, he always ends up with you, and you pretend to ignore the self-satisfied smirk that's on his face anytime someone comes dragging him your way. You also pretend to ignore the laugh Nahida is holding back at his antics.

Wanderer becomes a constant presence in your life; always bugging you to give him attention, to do something with him, and most of the time, it ends up with you dragging him off before he accidentally breaks the law (or insults Al Haitham…again). Though, you notice that he’s oddly nice to children and the elderly - not above helping either out, and one time you even saw him playing peek-a-boo with a kid while waiting for you. It made you smile, but you didn’t miss how quiet he got when the mother laughed and picked up the girl, telling her to bid him farewell. The same evening, he wordlessly hugs you, and tells you about his own mother. For a few hours, you two sit together, hidden away from the world for a while.

He’s quickly back to normal, but you somehow feel that you’ve gotten closer. It shows in the way his gaze softens when looking at you, and how his hand occasionally finds yours when no one is looking. You see it in Nahida’s knowing smile, and in how Dehya rolls her eyes, but sends a wink your way when Wanderer looks away. He’s become more protective as well, you notice, as he’s quick to step in to defend you in even the smallest of scuffles. You can’t resist teasing him about it sometimes, and the blush on his face when he tries to deny it with his entire being is one of the best things you’ve ever seen. 

Over time, he’s made himself home in your accommodations, and your heart, and while dealing with his antics and taking care of him is difficult, you’d be lying if you said that you wanted him out. You don’t mind holding him through the occasional flare ups, or picking him up on days when he’s so weak that he collapses, and you make sure to tell him this when he seems to doubt it.

One day, it’s suspiciously quiet in your house, and for a second you’re afraid that he’s run off; but relief washes over you when you see him sitting by your desk, looking at something in his hand. You approach him, and glance over his shoulder to see…a vision. A shining, green gemstone, with an anemo symbol in the middle - somewhere in the back of your mind, you recall Venti’s laugh, and think back on the day on the balcony when Wanderer finally managed to walk that far. How the wind immediately picked up, as if to welcome him back. He’s inspecting it, lost in thought, as his eyes glide over the symbol, and the gold casing around it - the decoration that indicates where the wielder is from. His gaze seems to get stuck on it - teeth worrying at his bottom lip, and you glance down, concerned about what it could mean for him. But, to your relief, the gold isn’t shaped in the style of an Inazuman vision, or a Snezhnayan one; it resembles a leaf, or a teardrop; the one that so many of your friends from Sumeru carry. He snaps out of his daze when you place a hand on his shoulder, smiling down at him; and his expression softens with a sigh.

“I wonder… is this just another way of tying me to a God?”

His voice comes out meek, and you exhale slowly, choosing your next words carefully.

“...How much do you know of the Anemo Archon?”

“Tsk, just that he’s a lazy Archon who practically abandoned his people under the guise of freedom.”

Both of you pause, with you deep in thought, and him glaring at the vision in front of him.

“Well, we could argue all day if it’s abandonment or freedom - but from what I know, he cares about his people, and if anyones really in need, he does interfere. He doesn’t just leave all to suffer”.

Wanderer scoffs, throwing a glare your way. Still, he doesn’t speak for a while, so your words did get to him, you figure. You lean against the wall next to the desk, crossing your arms, gaze falling on the faintly pulsating vision.

Wanderer breaks the silence again. “What does freedom really mean though, when demanded of you by a God?”

Those words sounds familiar, you realize, as you ponder his question. You glance out the window, humming, while he looks at you expectantly. His eyebrows knit together in an offended look when a small smile pulls at the corners of your lips, and he opens his mouth to spew an insult, but you interrupt him.

“I think this means that the ball is in your court. You can take it, use the new power granted to you, and start anew, if you’re ready…” Pushing yourself off the wall, you pick up the vision and turn it in your hand “...or, you can leave it. Entirely behind, or just on the shelf, for another day.”

He looks up at you again, as you slide the vision into his hand with a smile.

“But, I think that the fact that it’s here is enough of a sign already. So what will it be, Wanderer?”

[starlightyellow]

It's Nothing, I'm Sure. (Johnshi Short)

If you like my writing, you can find my Ao3 here. Thanks for reading!

"Kenshi, come on! We can't run from this forever!" The rain pelts Johnny's face as he pushes through thick brush to keep up with the swordman's brooding. The dark, gray sky furls in anger, lashing out in fits of lightning and thunder. Johnny loses his footing, dropping to his knees into the slippery mud. He groans in frustration as he struggles to regain his balance.

"No one is running, Cage. You just don't take no for an answer." Kenshi grits behind him as he makes his way toward the bathhouse, trying to completely disregard the actor's attempts to talk. Couldn't he take the hint that it would be better to just bury the other night into their memory? Just chalk it up to two grown, horny men letting off steam during a time of stress?

"Bullshit!" Johnny tackles Kenshi to the ground, ruining his clean clothes and fresh towel. Kenshi whips back and pushes Johnny, causing him to slide backward into the trunk of a tree. Irritated that he'll have to walk all the way back in the rain to replace his ruined supplies, Kenshi grumbles as he hastily picks up his things.

"Honestly Johnny, nobody wants to put up with a brat." Kenshi makes to walk away again but is yanked back into a headlock looking up at Johnny's face.

"Let me go, Cage!" Kenshi struggles against his hold, but the actor's knees under his back makes it very hard to break his grip.

"No! You don't get to tell me I can't take no for an answer. Not when you begged me last night. You pleaded with me to have that moment. Now you're acting like nothing happened!" Kenshi cracks Johnny in the face, thinking the hit would startle him enough to let him go. But Johnny growls, and tightens his hold around Kenshi's neck.

"Fine, Cage. So much for me trying to save your little feelings. I'm acting like nothing happened because to me it was nothing. I was having a craving, I needed it sated. I scratched your back and you scratched mine. Now you're getting pissy with me like a little bitch because my back doesn't itch anymore." Kenshi swings again, missing Johnny but able to swing himself out of his grasp.

Once able to stand, Kenshi sees the hurt look painted on Johnny's face and it makes his stomach drop. He quickly walks away, deciding to abandon the soiled cloth. He just needs to get away from Johnny. Kenshi can't push away the cut-up feeling boiling in his stomach. He does not have time for this. The plan was to befriend the actor and take the sword. For his honor, his ancestors, and his clan. Now, he had actually fallen for the thief standing in the way of his family's freedom, and he felt bad about cutting it off.

By the time Kenshi gathers new clothes and a towel, Johnny is nowhere to be seen. He adamantly ignores the pang of worry rushing through him. Their shared room is still empty when he comes back from bathing too, but he definitely wasn't biting his fingernails waiting for the man or anything. That would be delusional, which Kenshi was not.

Johnny and Kenshi had their spat in the morning, and it wasn't until nightfall after Kenshi had fallen asleep that Johnny made his way back to their room. Kenshi is awake from the click of the door, but is startled by something long and heavy plopping down next to him on the side of the bed.

Kenshi grazes his hand over the hilt of the sword and he knows. It's Sento, lying on his other side. He tilts his head up at Johnny, taking in the coldness in his puffy eyes.

“What are you-“

"I don't want to deal with you anymore, so here it is." Johnny says abruptly, "I know you'll only track me for it so I'm just gonna save you the trouble and cough it up." He turns on his heel, grabbing a pillow and blanket while swiftly making his way out of the door.

I don’t want to deal with you anymore.

It knocks the air out of him. So much so that he can’t call after Johnny like he wants to. Or find the strength in his legs to rush after him.

Kenshi should be happy. He has a space to himself for the night. He's got his ancestral weapon back where it rightfully belongs. He should be jumping up and down, rejoicing at the thought of finally completing his lifelong goal. Instead, it feels like Johnny stabbed him in the chest with the sword as opposed to relinquishing it to him. It felt oddly empty in the room the more he sat there without his friend's snoring filling it. Guilt and anger swirls in Kenshi's stomach until he can't contain it anymore. He couldn’t stop the tears from falling or the shaking of his shoulders. He can't hide from the feeling of betrayal that consumes him.

He did the right thing, didn't he? He couldn't pull Johnny into his family issues or even his family. He doesn't even know if his ancestors like Johnny, let alone accept whatever they were. Now, sitting inside a room that was once so full of life, he can't tell who should be accepting who.

[ur-urmom]

Okay, I have a pretty cute request! (I’m not 100% sure if this is where I submit it since I’ve never done this but if it’s not then oh well)

Jacob Black x Reader (either fem or gender neutral)

Imaging Jacob being overly emotional one day for whatever reason and the reader has to comfort him, literally just the fluffiest thing ever! Reassurance, cuddles and pure adorable-ness

Thanks :)

super cute!!! i apologize for getting this out so late, hopefully you like it!

———

Open Arms - Jacob Black x Reader

—————

Genre - fluffy cute adorable-ness!

Warnings - other than cussing, none

Summary - Y/N wasn’t really expecting any visitors on their day off, but when Jacob randomly shows up at their door they know something has to be on his mind.

The morning was chilly and damp, the perfect weather for staying inside curled up in a blanket and watching comfort shows with a cup of whatever hot beverage was preferred.

Personally, I was drinking hot apple cider and paying attention to a true crime documentary.

“How in the ever living hell could someone do that to another human being. That beats all I’ve ever seen, I swear.” I said to myself as I took a sip of the sweet liquid, feeling the warmth travel down my throat.

I love my days off. I love rainy days, and I love sunny days, really any day is a good day when there’s no work involved.

Of course I have friends to hang out with when I’m off, however I’m pretty content keeping myself company too. Maybe I’ll call Alice and Bella later to see if they want to do something, like a girls night out. You can never go wrong with a girls night out.

And if Alice is with Jasper, and Bella is with Edward (which will be most likely), I’ll just call Jacob. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. My boyfriend is practically one of the girls. I’ll just have a girls night with him… as a back up to the actual girls night I’m planning in my head.

I guess people would just call that a date though, wouldn’t they.

Tuning back into the documentary on the television, I took another sip of my cider. I put my feet up on the coffee table in front of me, the bottom of my pajama pants slighting hanging down right above my ankles.

By now, the weather outside was getting a little rough. Thunder would rumble and lightning would strike in sync with the revelations or the part of the show where the murders were being described on the screen. I grimaced at one of the real photos that popped up right as a loud boom sounded from the sky.

“Gross.” I muttered.

I took the last swig of my drink and set the empty cup down on the coaster beside my feet. I grabbed the blanket next to me on the couch and covered myself for extra warmth.

… and comfort from the paranoia of the murders I’m currently hearing about.

Although the heavy rain mixed in with true crime made it unsettling, the atmosphere was kind of relaxing at the same time. Dim lights, candles going, the pitter patter of the droplets, thunder, a full tummy from a warm drink, and the oddly soothing voice of the old man telling the heinous acts committed made my eyes flutter open and closed. I pulled the blanket higher over my face, just enough to where it hid my lips. My head gently fell to the side, my eyes still on the television trying my best to keep my attention. It was easier said than done, because soon my lids stayed shut and I started tuning out the words that were spoken. Steady breathing was the only thing I could really hear, at least it was the only thing that I chose to listen to.

Until a deafening BOOM! jolted my body awake once more. No way was I tired now.

“Holy!— shit… that sounded close.” My heart was racing at the crack of the thunder that just made its appearance, slowing down when I realized it was just that.

Thunder.

Nothing else.

I made a conscious decision to browse more shows, preferably something light and funny considering what just happened. Obviously it was nothing, but I’m getting myself a bit worked up and I don’t want to instigate it further.

“Ooo!” I finally found the old school Scooby Doo and turned that on instead. “This’ll be nice.” I smiled to myself. It was also something I could accidentally fall asleep to without getting scared shitless being abruptly woken up.

I was deep into the episode playing when I heard a knock on the door. I slightly turned my head in confusion, I wasn’t expecting anyone today and hardly anyone came unannounced. Flash images of the true crime documentary made their way to my mind as I slowly got up. All of my curtains were closed, and I didn’t really feel like looking behind them for fear of a face planted directly in front of mine with only glass separating us.

Walking towards the door, I picked up the scissors on the coffee table I had left there the night before.

Whoever was out there wasn’t happy with my pace, because another round of knocks came pounding, this time a bit louder.

“Dammit.” I whispered, just a few steps away from the handle now. The scissors were close to my chest as I put my palm around the knob after unlocking it. I took a deep breath, starting to slowly turn the knob now. I cracked the door open, expecting to either see nothing, or to see come crazy psycho with an axe getting ready to chop me into pieces for fun.

But I immediately relaxed when I saw the familiar black hair and those big brown doe eyes I’ve come to admire so much. Opening the door all the way now, I was met face to face with Jacob.

“Hey…” He breathed.

“How anticlimactic.” I accidentally slipped out.

“…..What?” His confused expression replacing the gentle one that was just there.

“Oh um… what are you doing here?” I ignored his words. “Not that you’re not welcome! You just… usually call beforehand.” I sensed how my question could be taken the wrong way. “Are you okay? Goodness, your soaking wet. Did you not bring an umbrella? Shit, Jacob, come in.” I stepped to the side to get out of his way.

He walked in and I closed the door behind him.

“Why do you have scissors?” He asked.

Turning around and facing his back, I placed my hands on his shoulders and started to help him take his dripping coat off. “Why not?” I replied, tossing it on the floor, making a mental note to wash it later. “But answer me, are you okay?” I repeated myself from a minute earlier, looking at him.

“I um, I don’t know.” He replied. “I don’t know.”

“Okay.” I nodded, concern written on my features. “Okay, that’s okay.” I took both of his hands in mine and placed a soft kiss on his knuckles, they were wet from some of the rain outside that rested on them, and everywhere else on his body. I started rubbing the back of his palms with the front of mine vigorously in a stupid attempt to warm him up, almost as if I was trying to roll a ball of dough in my hands. “Aw, love, you’re so cold.” I muttered, my brows furrowed in concentration.

I heard him let out a deep chuckle. When I looked at him he was already gazing at me. I gave him a reassuring smile.

“Here, go take a hot shower.” I stopped to go grab him a towel and rag. “I washed your clothes from last time you stayed over, you can change into those!” I raised my voice a bit so he’d hear me as I gathered all of his things and put them in the bathroom.

It wasn’t long before he was beside me, already starting to strip down. I scooted past him to go ahead and start the hot water. When I got the shower temp just right, I turned back to Jacob. His shirt was off and he was working towards his shorts.

“Maybe while you’re in there you can think about what’s wrong? We can talk about it after you get out, yeah?” I put a hand on his cheek, which he leaned into.

“Yeah, that sounds good baby.”

“Good.” I started to walk away, but not before I gave him a little kiss on his other cheek. “I’ll be in the kitchen, or the living room.” I shut the bathroom door as I exited.

I figured that while I waited for him to get out, I would fix a little something to eat. Breakfast, or brunch, I didn’t really know what time it was and I don’t feel like checking.

Bacon, eggs, and jelly toast. All classics, and all delicious.

I was just about done with everything when I heard the shower turn off. The only thing left I had to do was jelly my toast. I left Jacob’s untouched in case he didn’t want any on his.

And speaking of him, a few minutes later he walked into the kitchen as I was fixing the plates.

“Hey! I made some food. I don’t know if you’ve had anything this morning, but I haven’t, so if you don’t eat it I will.” I let him know that it was okay to decline my offer of a mouth watering meal.

“You think I’m gonna pass up on a good breakfast made by the love of my life? I don’t think so.” Jacob scoffed and took his plate.

I beamed at the title he had given me and followed him to the table with my own food. I thought it’d be nice to just eat and talk about lighter things, rather than what’s on his mind right now, that’ll be for after.

“Thank gosh you took a shower, you smelled like a dirty, wet dog.” I joked, taking a bite of bacon.

“Ha-ha, very funny.” He playfully rolled his eyes in response.

“No, really! I could practically smell you from all the way inside. I thought there was a stray on my front porch.”

“M’kay, so you were getting ready to stab what you thought was a stray dog that wandered onto your porch?”

“Huh?” I genuinely was lost after he said that.

“The scissors.” He continued.

“Ohhhhhhh.”

“Ohhh..” He mimicked me.

“Pffft, no. I was getting ready to do arts and crafts with said stray dog.”

“Mhm, sure.”

We looked at each other before breaking out into laughs and grins.

“Shut up, Jacob.” The smile still on my face as I softly pushed his shoulder with mine. I got up and took my plate to the sink. He did the same. I grabbed two water bottles from the fridge and handed one to him, then started walking to the couch in the living room. We sat next to one another, and I took his arm in mine and put my head on his shoulder.

“Do you wanna watch anything?” I eyed the tv, absentmindedly watching whatever had come on after Scooby Doo. When I didn’t get a response, I sat up straight so I could look at him. Once again, he was already staring at me.

“…No.”

“Hey…” I started, remembering why he was here in the first place, “what’s on your mind?”

I stumbled to reach the remote on the table and turned off the television, the screen going black with just the rain and distant thunder for background noise.

“Lovely, talk to me.” I ran a hand through his hair, hoping to make him more comfortable.

“I don’t know, Y/N. It’s stupid.”

“Don’t say that.” I spoke. “Whatever it is, you have every right to feel the way you do, your feelings are valid.”

I started to readjust. I put my legs up on the coffee table like I had them earlier and then patted my lap with a small flick of my head to gesture to Jacob to lay down. He didn’t even hesitate.

Looking down at him, I had one hand on his upper jaw and the other one continued to play with his hair.

“I’m just…. I’ve been thinking a lot.”

“Oh lord.” I added, trying to make him laugh. It worked.

“And I’m just worried, I guess. About the future, and what’s gonna happen. What I have to do.”

“Oh baby. You don’t need to worry about things that haven’t even happened yet, especially things that won’t even happen for a long time.”

“I know,” he kissed my hand, “I can’t help it.”

“Look, I have no doubt that I’ll be there in the future right beside you. Helping you figure out whatever it is that needs figuring out. We’re a team. Your problems, your worries, your desires… are mine too. You’re not alone.”

I looked at him. Really looked at him. I needed him to understand what I had just said.

“I love you.” He stated. “So much.”

“I love you.” I smiled sweetly at him. “I’m here, if you really want to go into depth about what exactly it is with the future you’re worried about.”

“Yeah, sweetheart, I know… but right now I think I might fall asleep.” He flipped over on his side in my lap. “You’re just too comfortable.”

I giggled. “Oh really?”

“Mhm.”

I squealed when all of the sudden his lips met my stomach as he blew air on my skin, doing what people call a raspberry.

“Jacob!!” I laughed, lightly slapping at his side. “Stop!”

He did, placing a gentle kiss on the spot he just attacked instead.

I kept rubbing his head, alternating between running my fingers through his hair and softly tracing shapes on his face. I did this until I heard the low sound of steady breathing.

Not only his, but mine as the two of us had fallen asleep, dreaming of nothing but each other.

—————————

this isn’t proofread, so I’m sorry for any typos! it also might be shorter than my others so I do apologize! thank you for reading :) <3