#to avoid being completely devoured

[transmechanicus]

Blankie time we share body warmth and the bad dreams bounce back and crash into a wall and die <3

Blankie time💙🖤

[absurdthirst]

Shelter in the Storm {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 8.5k

Warnings: Vaginal sex, rough sex, needy Joel, unspoken feelings, fucking your feelings away, tender sex, dirty talk, being vulnerable, typical canon violence, guns, drugging someone, JOEL DOESN’T DIE, death, anxiety, confessions.

Comments: We had to fix it. What really happens in Episode 2

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Joel Miller MasterList ||

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

“Joel?” You gasp at the sight of him on your doorstep. It’s freezing outside, the partygoers all gone to bed, but he’s standing there with this intense look on his face. You haven’t seen it before and you frown, “what’s happened?” He doesn’t respond, just pushes into your home like he owns it, and you gasp when he kicks the door shut and grabs your waist, spinning you around to press you into the wood. His hands grabbing your robe while his lips press against yours in a kiss you can only describe as equal parts hunger and desperate. You grip his jacket, letting him devour you against the front door. It’s the middle of the night but you can’t deny him anything. You never have been able to since he arrived in Jackson five years ago.

He shouldn’t have come to your door. He’s got recon in the morning. He should be in his own bed, staring up at the ceiling and drowning in his guilt, his sorrow for the mistakes that he has made. Ellie’s glare haunting him from the chair on the porch and as soon as he had gone inside, he had been heading right back out again. Knowing that she was safe for the night, he had traveled the familiar path to your door. Knowing that you wouldn’t deny him for some strange reason and needing the solace of your arms to silence the ghosts of his past from haunting him.

You’ve played this game with him for five years. Five years of late night sex followed by polite nods and small talk in the daytime. Five years of pretending that you don’t want more. Five years of trying to act like you’re not in love with him. It’s a practiced dance. Him pressing you against your door until he’s swinging you around and gruffly telling you to take him to your bedroom. A hurried rush up the stairs and he’s tugging on the tie of your robe, letting it drop to the floor to expose your pajamas. It’s freezing cold so they aren’t the sexy silk nighties you have during the summer when the air is stifling. It’s plush tartan pants and a long sleeve shirt but he still looks at you like he wants to eat you whole. His hands tear at your shirt and you push his jacket from his shoulders as soon as the top is falling to the floor to expose your tits to his desperate eyes.

You let him take control, knowing he needs this. You’ve seen the problem between him and Ellie, even if you don’t know the thing that caused it, and you simply want to be there for him. Maybe in some deluded way, you hope that one day he will realize what’s right in front of him and confess he loves you. You moan into the kiss, hands sliding down his chest to start unbuttoning his shirt. You need to touch him but he pinches your nipples so you gasp, allowing his tongue to plunder your mouth.

Joel needs this, he needs the soft acceptance, the want in your touch. You know some of the worst of him, but not all. Not the things that no one else knows but him. You still look at him like he’s a man, a human, not some kind of scary creature that is worse than the things outside. “So good to me.” Words haven’t been easy for him, not on a romantic front. Never have been, but he shows how he feels from the way he takes care of you. The way he touches you. He weighs both breasts in his hands as he kisses down your chest to take your nipple in his mouth.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, a little thinner now and streaked with more gray, but he’s just as sexy as the moment you met him when he arrived in Jackson. You moan, arching your back into his touch, and he doesn’t hesitate to hook his fingers into your pajama pants to start pulling them down.

There’s so much that he doesn’t say. Can’t say. You step out of your pants and he instinctively cups your cunt, threading his fingers through the soft hair to find your clit. Eager to hear your breathless cries of pleasure to drown out the roaring sound of silence.

You whimper at the way his calloused fingers rub your clit. He’s so rough but when he touches you, it’s like you’re made of fine china and he doesn’t want to break you. “Joel.” You moan, leaning in to kiss his scruffy jaw. “Please.” You beg, unable to stop yourself. You need him to be rough. “Just fuck me like you need to. I won’t break.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He grunts against your belly, having shifted down to his knee to kiss along your hips. “Don’t worry about that.” You beg and he wonders if you need it rough. “You want me to fuck you?” His tone deepens, dropping down to a rough octave he reserves for when he’s furious. “Make you scream?”

Your belly clenched at that tone and you nod, tugging on his hair to drag him up from the floor. He groans as his knees ache when he stands and you reach for his belt, needing to feel him. “Please. Fuck me, Joel.” You beg, needing to be there for him, to let him use your body like you know he needs to. “Make me scream so everyone in Jackson knows who’s fucking me.”

“Shiitttt.” Joel hisses when you open the fly of his jeans. Releasing a little of the pressure that has built up rapidly and he grabs your hands, yanking them above your head as he turns you towards the bed and forces you down on your knees. He’s never been the type of man to be selfish, but you are begging him to be.

You moan at how he manhandles you, loving how he takes control. "Yes." You hiss, cunt clenching around nothing as he kneels on the bed, his big hand gripping yours in one of his.

He would normally make sure you are ready for him, but now he’s shuffling to push his jeans and underwear down with one hand. Holding your hands like you are trying to escape. He’s aching with the need to feel something other than pain and he is so fucking grateful to you for being willing to let him have you. “Scream for me.” He growls, pushing into you with a sharp snap of his hips that sends him bottoming out in a split second.

You aren’t wet enough to take him like this but you don’t complain. He needs this and he stretches you out. “Fuck, Joel!” You cry out, fingers curling in the sheets as he starts to fuck you without giving you a moment to adjust but you don’t care.

Joel groans, loving how tight your cunt is clamped down around him as he starts to hammer into you. “So good to me.” He huffs, already feeling like he’s going to explode. Still his hips snap forward, again and again, only pulling back so he can rock into you and feel you grip him tight. “Takin’ my cock. Moanin’ for me.”

He's relentless, not giving you time to breathe, and you'd be shocked by the quick movement of a 61 year old man, but he's causing your mind to go blank and your jaw to drop when he pushes deep again. Your cheek rests on your sheets, eyes closed and mouth open as screams escape your lips that later you'd deny how loud you were. "Fuck! Oh shit. You're so deep, baby." You choke, tits swaying with every thrust of his hips.

He grunts, breaths puffing out from the harsh pace. It feels incredible, your walls are spasming around him and he looks down to see your puckered hole constricting just as much. “You’ll feel me tomorrow.” He promises, even though it’s technically today. You are going out on a recon too, although he wants to insist you stay in. He can’t, he doesn’t have control over you, but he can make you feel him every time you shift on your horse.

"I'll feel you for a week." You retort breathlessly, trying and failing to grind back onto him when he is gripping your hips. His hand comes down on your ass, the smack echoing in your bedroom, and you cry his name yet again. In the silence of the night, snow falling outside, you are his and when the sun rises, he won't be yours. "Yes! Yes!" You choke, getting closer, and when his hand slides around your hip to find your clit, you fall apart within a few swipes of his calloused, hard worn, fingers.

This is what he wanted, what he craved. The high pitched, pleasured cry that cannot even begin to be compared to a sound of pain. He gave you that. His thrusts slow as you shake under him and his head turns to press kisses into your shoulder. He’s not done, but the first haze of need has been stripped away, now craving your arms wrapped around him.

You thought he’d just fuck you harder and cum on your ass before leaving you to your empty bed while he goes home. That’s usually how it happens. When he pulls out of you, you frown and look over your shoulder at him. He has this strange look on his face, and you shift onto your knees, “are you okay?”

“No.” He admits, reaching out to cup your face. “But being here helps.” He lunges forward and presses you back to the bed before he pulls away to get up and completely strip down. He hadn’t taken off his boots, but they are discarded now until he is just as bare as you are.

You sit up on your elbows, admiring the glory that is Joel Miller. For his age, he's ridiculously handsome, and you sometimes wonder how devastating he must've been as a younger man. He's gorgeous and you watch him undress and when he's bare, you shift onto your knees. He frowns at you until you duck down to wrap your lips around his cock, wanting to help him relax and forget the shit show that awaits you outside the door.

“Shit.” Joel hisses, teeth clenched together as he reaches for the back of your head before he changes his mind and cups your cheek. You are looking up at him, eyes wide and seemingly innocent despite knowing you are anything but. “You were too good for me.” He murmurs honestly, eyes fluttering when you squeeze the base of his cock gently and jerk him off. “Fuuuuuck.”

You moan around him, watching him and the way his eyes flutter closed. Like the weight of the world is off his shoulders for a few moments and it has you clenching to know you can provide that for him. He caresses your cheek, feeling the way his thick cock stretches your jaw as you take him a little deeper.

His chest heaves while you bob your head on his cock. Making him feel like nothing else exists outside this bedroom. He feels normal, like before. He murmurs your name as his eyes open and he pulls his hips back. “I want to be inside you.” He explains when you frown. “Can I have you?”

His request has your heart clenching and you nod, swallowing harshly when he shifts to push you onto your back. This is intimate for Joel and he rarely fucks you like this. "You have me." You promise, eyes shining with unsaid emotion in the middle of the night.

Joel licks his lips before he slowly gathers you into his arms. Shifting between your thighs and rolling his hips as he seeks your heat. Groaning when he lines up and he presses his lips to yours gently as he sinks in inch by inch.

You whimper at the new position. He is covering your body, caging you in under his broad frame, and you wrap your legs around him, needing to be closer. His tongue slides into your mouth but the frantic need to dominate you is gone and in its place is a softer caress that makes your heart flutter.

This time, he moves slowly. Deliberately. The roll of his hips is fluid and he keeps his lips on yours, drowning in the kiss even as you anchor him. His arms tighten around you and even if the position makes his back ache, he won’t change it. Needing to hold onto you while he slowly rocks into you.

You slide your hands along his back, broad and strong, he's worked hard to survive. You rock your hips up a little to meet his, moaning when the angle changes. "Fuck. Yes." You moan, sliding your hands lower to squeeze his ass.

He huffs out a groan of his own, cock twitching but he doesn’t quicken the pace. Needing to draw this out even if he needs to sleep for tomorrow’s recon. “You feel so fuckin’ perfect.” He praises, kissing along your jaw. “So warm and wet for me.”

His words have you clenching around him, loving how he finds solace in your body when the world continues to beat him up. “Never had a guy last so long.” You confess, tilting your head so he can kiss down your neck, “most would’ve been pulling out by now.” You moan when he bites on your pulse.

He chuckles, nipping your skin slightly. “Want you to cum for me again.” He tells you. “Plus I jerked off in the shower this mornin’.” He admits, lifting his head and looking you in your eyes. “Thinking about you.”

“Yeah, what were you thinking about?” You giggle, loving how he has an almost sheepish look on his face when he admits that. “Need to watch you one time. Wanna see you jerk off.” You moan at the thought, walls fluttering around him.

He twitches inside you, imaging your eyes dark with lust as you watch him. “Why would I jerk off when you are right there with me?” He hums. “I’d just want to be inside you. Just like I am right now. Buried deep in heaven.”

You moan, loving how his voice is rough with lust at the thought, and you smirk when you slide your hands back up to his shoulders. “You can watch me too.” You promise and he smirks, “now that I’d like to see.” You giggle, sliding your hands higher to tangle your fingers in his salt and pepper hair.

Joel moans when you tug gently, loving the pressure and he presses his lips to yours again. Thrusting a little harder into you and he pecks your lips again. “Why don’t you touch yourself right now?” He suggests. “Make yourself cum by rubbin’ your clit while my cock is inside you.”

His accent has your walls fluttering around him and you obey, sliding your hand between you to rub your clit. You want to please him and you whimper when your fingers rub your bundle of nerves the same time he thrusts deep into you. “Fuck baby. Yes, that’s it. That’s it.” You squeal, loving the angle.

He’s a hard ass a lot of the time. Grumpy and mean to some of the community. Especially assholes he doesn’t like or who hurt Ellie, but he’s not selfish with you. He keeps his hips tilted and thrusts again, looking down between you to watch as you touch yourself. “So fuckin’ pretty.” He coos gruffly. “That’s it, pretty girl. Make yourself cum all over me again.”

You pant, chest heaving as your eyes focus on him as he orders you to cum for him. Your breaths mingle with little whines, his name a garbled mess as you are worked higher until you’re pushed over the edge. You cry out, thighs shaking around his hips as you squeeze your eyes shut while you squeeze his cock inside you.

God, you’re beautiful. Your cunt is squeezing him like a vice and soaking him with your juices. Making him groan and his thrusts sharpen. Chasing that perfect ending for himself as he fucks you through your orgasm. Pumping into you a half dozen more times before he’s pulling free and wrapping his hand around his cock as he kneels between your thighs. “Watch me.” He pants out and making your eyes spring open. Stroking his cock two times before he’s spurting hot ropes of cum across your belly and tits with a low groan of your name.

You watch in rapture as he cums on your skin. Jaw that’s scattered with salt and pepper scruff clenching as his dark eyes focus on you. Grunts escaping his lips as he paints your skin and he looks fucking gorgeous. “Joel.” You moan, reaching up to caress his chest, “so fucking sexy when you cum for me.”

He huffs out a sound of amusement as he relaxes, letting go of his cock and reaching for your thigh to stare down at the mess he made of you for a moment. “You look good covered in my cum.” He murmurs, wishing for a moment he had gotten snipped before the world ended so he could fill you up.

You smile, biting your lip as you relax into your pillows. “I wish we didn’t have to get up early tomorrow. We could stay in bed, forget the shit show going on outside and enjoy the warmth.” You sigh, shifting back, “I better clean up.” You swing your legs over the edge of the bed, standing up only to collapse back when your legs are shaky. Joel has the audacity to chuckle and you turn your head to glare at him playfully, “yeah yeah. This is your fault.”

He smirks. “Lay down.” He orders roughly as he gets off the bed and walks towards your bathroom naked. “I’ll get you a rag.” Normally aftercare isn’t his strong suit but he doesn’t want to leave just yet. He glances at the mirror as he grabs a rag and twists the hot water knob to wait for the water to warm up. Reaching for the soap to clean up himself in the cold water while he waits.

You stare up at the ceiling, listening to him clean up, and moments later, he appears with the rag. He’s gentle as he wipes your folds before he cleans off your belly, moving fast to toss the rag in the sink. You half expect him to be pulling on his pants but he stands there and you shift onto your knees, shuffling towards him. “Do you wanna stay?” You ask softly, tilting your head towards him.

“You don’t-“ he swallows harshly and nods. “Yeah.” He murmurs, feeling relieved when you pat the bed beside you. Shuffling over to the spot and lifting the covers to let you under before he slides in beside you. “Too late to go back home.” It’s a flimsy excuse and you know it, but he settles down before he lifts his arm around your head to offer you a spot against his side.

You are shocked but don’t waste a moment as you shift closer, throwing your leg over his thigh and snuggling close so you can place your hand on his chest, your head in his armpit. “Night, baby.” You murmur, kissing his side after you close your eyes, heart pounding at having this rare moment with the man you love.

It apparently doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep, your breathing changing and your body getting heavier against him as you drift off. Joel doesn’t immediately fall asleep, spending nearly half an hour slowly caressing your back as he listens to you start to quietly snore. Smirking to himself in the dark before he closes his own eyes, feeling like he’s not alone for the first time in months.

****

You get up before Joel which surprises you. Usually he’s up at sunrise and beats most people to the meet up point for patrol. You hum as you pour some coffee into your thermos for Joel. Dressed and ready for patrol, you look out at the sky, the snow falling and you sigh, knowing that today is gonna be a tough day on patrol in that weather.

It takes him a moment to realize where he’s at when he opens his eyes. Feeling rested and amazing, he frowns when he reaches over and doesn’t feel you next to him. You’re out of the bed. The first little rays of light have started filling the room and he groans as he sits up to swing his feet to the floor. It’s a new year but things still have to be done. He murmurs your name before standing up, groaning as his joints protest and he shuffles to the bathroom. The need to pee is urgent and he gets that taken care of before he calls out your name, wondering where you are.

You hear him call your name and you say “in the kitchen!” He appears a few moments later, dressed, and you smile at the sight of him standing in your house in the morning. It feels right and you know you’d scare him if you ever confessed that. “Morning, handsome. Made you coffee for the road.” You hold up the thermos, “and there’s some muffins I made yesterday.”

“Thank you.” He walks over to you and takes the thermos and leans in to drop a kiss on your lips. A small thank you for last night. “You still goin’ out today?”

You nod, surprised that he kissed you during the daylight but you won’t question it. “Yeah. With Ellie and Jesse.” You explain and he nods, “be careful. It’s gonna be tough weather. Any sign of a storm and you come right back, ya hear? You don’t let Ellie railroad you into doing anything else.” He orders and you nod, “yes sir.”

He wants to tell you to stay here, not to go out, but you wouldn’t listen to him. He moves over to where he had tossed his coat down and picks it up. Reaching inside to hand you his thick gloves. “Here.” He shoves them in your hands. “It’s gonna be fuckin’ freezin’ today.” He has extras, but these are better and he wants you to protect your hands.

You accept the gloves, your heart fluttering as his care for you shines through and you nod, “thanks, baby.” You murmur, “you ready to go? I’m all ready to head out. Please be careful, Joel. Don’t take any risks.” You warn him, knowing what he’s like.

“I’ll be fine.” He promises. “You just worry about yourself.” He raises his brows. “Ya hear?” He bites his lip and glances out the window. “Maybe we should get going.” He suggests. “Quicker we get the route done, the quicker we get back inside where it’s warm.”

You nod, putting on your coat, scarf, gloves, hat, even more needed in this freezing weather. You leave your home and shiver when you’re outside. Ellie isn’t at the stables when you get there and Joel grunts, “I’m gonna head out early with Dina. Leave Ellie to sleep for a bit. Go find Jesse.” He orders and you nod, wanting to kiss him but you’re outside and people are already out in the streets. He offers you a small tilt of his lips and you take a slow walk to find Jesse before you head to get Ellie ready for patrol.

Joel tears his thought away from you, checking over his horse and rechecking Dina’s before heading out of the North Gate to make his way towards the mines. “You look smug.” Dina smirks as she glances over at him. “Got lucky last night, didn’t you?” She demands, making Joel grateful that his cheeks are already red from the cold. “Could say the same about you.” He shoots back, humming when she squirms in her saddle. “Finally kissed her, huh?” He looks back towards the road. “Bout time.”

You knock on Ellie’s door, standing beside an impatient Jesse who is checking his watch. “It’s fine. She needed her sleep.” You nudge him and when he gives her shit about Dina, you smirk because you know he’s messing with her. “Come on kids, time to go.” You order and walk to the stables. “Shimmer!” Ellie coos, stroking the horse and you smile, swinging your leg over your own horse.

“Shut up!” Dina huffs, throwing him a playful glare and Joel chuckles. “You’re one to talk.” She snorts and he shakes his head. “What are you talkin’ ‘bout?” Dina says your name and for a split second, Joel freezes. She giggles, watching him and she looks around again. “You should have danced with her last night.” She tells him. “Women like when someone they love dance with them.” It’s Joel’s turn to snort, completely sure you ain’t in love with him. “Hurry up.” He grunts, motioning his horse to pick up the pace. “Storm’s movin’ in faster than I expected.”

You and Ellie and Jesse are riding through the storm when the radio tells you to seek shelter. You frown, not liking the storm rolling in, and you tell the kids to take shelter. Jesse knows a place so you follow him and grin when you recognize it. “Eugene told you about this place?” You ask after you get the horses in the garage across the street, walking into what was a 7-Eleven. Jesse nods, “back when I started doing patrols with him.” Ellie grins, excited by the sight of the weed as soon as you walk in and you chuckle, “I’ll have to take some back for Gail.” You’d give it to Joel to help him pay for his sessions. “Shit. It’s freezing.” You choke, rubbing your arms and even Joel’s gloves struggle to keep the chill from your skin.

“We need to go back!” Dina’s voice is carried by the wind and Joel looks back over his shoulder. “We’re too far out.” He shouts. Down in the valley, the weather is starting to turn. “Head towards the mine!” He knows that things will get bad and Ellie will kill him if he lets anything happen to Dina. “We can take shelter there!”

You watch Ellie hold the homemade bong mask to her face and you snort, knowing Joel would be snatching it out of her hand and lecturing her which would make her lash out. She doesn’t see how much he’s trying to protect her but she’s a typical teenage girl. “So are you and Joel…?” Jesse tilts his head and you shake your head, “it’s complicated.” You answer and Ellie looks at you after lowering the bong to put it in her pack. “You’re too good for him.” She says and you shake your head, “we are all fucked up, Ellie. You need to soften up on him.” You sigh and Jesse nods in agreement. The radio crackles and you hear Amy asking where Joel and Dina are. Your heart immediately drops and you look at Jesse and Ellie. You all scramble, grabbing your packs, “fuck.” You hiss, hoping that nothing has happened to them.

“Can you run?” Joel sees the girl is in shock, his tone harsh but this is life and death. He hadn’t even imagined someone would be out here, but she is and she’s near in age to Ellie and Dina. She says she can and Joel shoves her towards the door, covering her as he kills a few of the infected as they both rush for the cover of the building. The door closes and he latches it, although he knows it won’t hold. Not with the sheer number that are out there.

“Joel!” He watches the door as Dina shouts his name. “Joel!” “Up here. I’m comin’, I’m comin’.” He walks over to the girl, leaning against a pole and looks down at you. “You good?” She doesn’t answer and he doesn’t have time to coddle her. “Hey kid!” He barks, making her flinch but she finally answers. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good.” “Any bites?” He demands, still holding his gun to put her down if he needs. She’s breathless when she says no, staring at his gun, but she shakes her head. “Then let’s go.” The door bangs, moving on the hinges. “Now!” He reaches down and grabs her to drag her to her feet. Both of them running to were Dina is still on her house and waiting with his. “What do we do?” Dina demands. “We leave!” Joel’s blunt but he always is. “Back to Jackson? It’s too far. We’ll freeze before we get halfway there.” Joel answers as he swings up onto his horse. “I’m aware.” His mind is racing, but there are no good options right now with this storm. “Where the fuck did they even come from?” Dina asks, turning towards the girl still standing in front of the horses. “Where did you come from?” She’s amazed anyone has been out here and stayed alive. “The mountain.” She answers, shifting from foot to foot. The hoard beating on the door gets louder, distracting them for a moment. “Okay Joel, if we stay here, we die. If we go out there, we die.” She is starting to panic and Joel doesn’t want her to die. She can’t die, not when she’s important to Ellie. “I don’t know, I don’t know, I’m thinkin’!” Joel snaps. The answer comes from an unexpected place. The girl. “The lodge.” She gestures outside. “My friends are holed up in a lodge halfway up the mountain.” Both Dina and Joel turn to look at her. “Not far. If the infected are down here, maybe there aren’t anymore up there.” The banged on the door and the lock gets louder, making Joel twist around in the saddle as he makes his decision. “Fuck it. It’s all we got.” He decides before he looks back at the girl. “Are your friends armed?” He demands. “Yeah.” He is relieved. “Good. We’re gonna need them.” He holds out his hand to help her onto the back of his horse. “Get on.” She mounts up behind him before they turn and race the horses out of the protection of the building into the storm.

Your heart is pounding, glancing around the mountains as you search for Joel and Dina. You are terrified that they have gotten stuck in the wilderness. You glance over your shoulder, gasping when you see the fire blazing at Jackson. You want to ride back but you need to find Joel and Dina. "Fuck." You choke, riding higher up the mountain, the wind whipping your face, and Ellie and Jesse ride behind you. "Five minutes then we head back." Jesse orders and you want to protest but you need to protect them despite your need to find Joel.

His hands up, Joel could fucking kick himself for trusting the kid. They had managed to make it to the lodge, the hoard of infected had shifted and through the large glass windows, he had watched Jackson start to burn. Until things had shifted. Dina stands with a gun to her head and his mind races. He can’t risk her, too many weapons are out and he can’t let her get hurt. He won’t risk her life. The girl, Abby, has a chilling look on her face as she asks him what they look like. He glances around, taking stock of the gear, the thigh holster he hadn’t questioned. “Military.” He answers, wondering if he’s run into them before but they are young. “Fireflies.”

"We need to go back!" Jesse demands and you shake your head, "no. Take Ellie. Take shelter. I need to find them. Go!" You demand, kicking the side of your horse to continue riding up the mountain. Your heart is pounding and ice is in your eyelashes, making you blink rapidly through the incoming storm.

Joel presses his lips together, trying to control his breathing and not let the pain cloud his vision. Dina is laying on the floor, drugged and helpless. His knee is shot, blown out with a fucking shot gun by the bitch he had saved. He watches the medic as she kneels down to apply the tourniquet, she’s uneasy with the way this is happening. He can tell from the guilt and apology in her eyes, the unease of the boy closest to him. Joel cries out when she cinches the belt down, unable to hold back as she restricts the blood flow. He’s not getting out of here, even if he could overpower someone, he can’t walk or run. He’s going to die here. She starts talking, droning on like the villain in a bad movie and Joel snaps. “Oh just shut the fuck up and do it already.” She doesn’t do it quick, she wants him to suffer.

You see the lodge ahead, Joel and Dina's horses tied up, and you are quick to tie your horse up, walking quietly to the entrance at the bottom of the lodge. Your heart is pounding and when you enter, you hear voices. Your rifle in your hand, you are slow to move until you hear Joel scream. That kicks you into action. You rush up the stairs, aiming and firing your gun without a second thought. You take out the man holding his own rifle, then turn to take out the second man, leaving three women. A bullet whizzes past your head and you turn to see Joel on the floor, bloodied and knee shot out. You scream, anger at these assholes for hurting him overwhelming you, and you fire your gun in quick succession, taking out another woman. The gun fires and you cry out when a bullet enters your shoulder. You refuse to let the pain linger and you move fast to take out another woman, leaving one standing there with a golf club in her hand. "Did you do this to him?" You yell at her, shooting her in the knee and she cries, falling to the floor. "You fucking bitch!" You scream, wasting no time shooting her in the head. Your shoulder is numb but you don't care as you look around to see Dina on the floor. You rush over, checking her pulse. She's still alive. Within seconds, you scramble over to Joel, cupping his cheek, "Joel, baby. Stay with me. I'm here. I got you. I got you." You promise, stroking his bloodied hair. "I love you. Please stay with me. Stay with me. I love you." You choke just as Ellie and Jesse come rushing into the room.

“Joel! Shit, Joel!” Despite the anger, the animosity she had been feeling towards Joel, Ellie is running to where he is laying, dropping to her knees and frantically trying to assess the damage. “Goddamnit! What did they do to him?” She screams out, pulling out her knife and sinking it into the body closest to Joel. Some girl. “You bitch!” She howls. “Fuck you!”

You look at Jesse, “we need to get him back to Jackson. He needs surgery. Now.” You choke, knowing Joel has lost a lot of blood but his eyes are moving and his pulse is there. Ellie kneels down beside him again, “get up Joel. Get up. You gotta get up.” She chokes, tears running down her cheeks and you reach for her shoulder. “He’s alive. She didn’t kill him. Come on. Let’s get him home.” You want to break down and Dina grunts as she comes back to consciousness, Jesse kneeling beside her to check her.

“Wha-what happened?” She manages, her voice heavy with whatever drug they had pumped into her system. Jesse helps her sit up and she blinks several times, confused before she spots Joel. “Joel!” She scrambles over to him and gasps when she sees his bloody and bludgeoned face.

You want to cry, hug him, and wish that you were still in bed together, but that's not reality. Right now you need to get Joel back to Jackson. "Come on, we need to move him. He's gonna be in agony but if he stays here, he dies." You try to be rational, your breakdown can wait until later. You look around the lodge, seeing bedsheets and sleeping bags and you have an idea. "He's gonna be freezing, but we won't be able to get him on a horse." You think you can pull him along in the sleeping bag using the sheets so he can remain on his back.

“You want to drag him behind the horses?” Jesse’s eyes widen and he glances at Ellie like he expects her to attack you. She frowns and looks down at the man who had been her protector, her family, even when she thought she didn’t need it. “Let’s do it.” She huffs, wiping her face and stands up to grab the bags. “Fuckers here won’t need them.” She hisses, spitting on one of the bodies.

It takes too long to get Joel from the lodge after putting his coat on and gloves. He cries out weakly and you apologize, feeling your heart break, but he’s still alive. He’s still here. You manage to lift him between the four of you out of the lodge and place him in the snow on the bed sheets. You zip the sleeping back up so he is covered, his head cushioned, and you caress his neck, “I’m so sorry, baby. This is gonna hurt but we gotta get you home.” You lean in to press a kiss to a spot on his jaw that isn’t bloodied. It doesn’t take long for you to get on your horse, taking a slow ride back to Jackson, looking over your shoulder every minute to check on Joel.

Drifting in and out of consciousness, Joel relives that day. The numbness he had felt, killing those fireflies. They had stood between him and Ellie. A bright spot of hope in his life that was worth more than a cure. She was the reason he had gone on. It was worth ever bullet fired and ever life taken. He would change a thing and he doesn’t, except killing the nurses who had been in the room. Leaving no evidence of who had eliminated the group. His pained moans are weak but he doesn’t open his eyes.

When you arrive back in Jackson, there’s more bodies than you can count, people crying and screaming, and it’s been a massacre but it appears like the danger is gone and in its wake is a town destroyed. “Fucking hell.” Ellie gasps and you are shocked but your mind is on Joel. You see Tommy as soon as you enter the open gates and he gasps, “what the fuck happened?” He asks, seeing the sleeping bag and he panics, thinking Joel is dead. “He’s hurt. Like bad. He needs the doctor now.” Ellie answers her proxy uncle and he nods, knowing that most of the people who are injured in the battle are dead either from the infected or being killed mercifully by their compatriots.

Joel doesn’t wake up as he’s moved. Doesn’t cry out when the sleeping bags are lifted and used as a gurney to rush him through the devastated streets to the hospital. Tommy shouting orders as they hurry.

Your heart is pounding, praying he makes it after such devastating injuries. You pull Ellie close when she starts to cry as soon as Joel is carried into the doctor's surgery. "He will be okay." You promise even though you have no guarantee of that. You have tears in your eyes as you hold Ellie close while she cries into your coat.

Dina shuffles guiltily, knowing that she should have fought harder, should have tried to escape. She’s the reason Joel didn’t fight them, the gun to her head and the threat of being hurt. “She tricked us.” She tells you. “Joel saved her, Abby, and we had nowhere to go. She told us they would help us get back to Jackson to fight.”

“They’re dead now. They got what they deserved.” You answer and Ellie pulls back, shaking her head, “no. They didn’t. They deserve to be tortured like they did to him.” Dina nods in agreement, “I’m so sorry.” She says to you and Ellie and you pull her close, hugging both girls.

Tommy gives orders to the doctor. “Whatever you need to do, just fix him.” He demands, looking down at Joel with guilt and worry. He had been supposed to go out on patrol with him today, but there had been a change to the schedule. The town had needed him to stay back. Maybe if he had gone with him, he wouldn’t be hurt like this. “We can’t lose him.”

You finally remember that you were shot in the shoulder, your adrenaline fading as Joel is safe and being taken care of. You silently pray he is okay and you hiss as you struggle to remove your coat. “Oh shit. You’ve been shot.” Ellie says and you nod, “it went through. I’ll be fine.”

“You need to get it patched up.” Dina huffs. “Last thing we need is for you to get an infection.” You are about to protest but she adds, “Joel would want you to take care of yourself. And you need to be healthy to take care of him.”

You nod, knowing she’s right but you really don’t care about yourself right now. You find yourself sitting down while one of the nurses who was hiding in one of the basements tends to your wound. Your mind is focused on Joel, wondering how he is. Once you’re stitched up, you ask Ellie how he is. “They are still working on him.” She says and you nod, your heart aching. “You love him.” She declares, tilting her head at you and you nod, “yeah. Yeah. I do.”

“That’s cool.” She wrinkles her nose though. “But he is really old.” She’s joking and after she delivers the joke, she grins for a second when you laugh. It fades away into the now familiar worry. “He’s gonna make it, right?” She asks, her voice small and she suddenly looks younger, lost and scared. “I mean, he’s Joel. He has to make it.”

You tilt your head, knowing she’s been hating him for so long because of reasons unknown to everyone except them. “I hope so.” You answer, not wanting to lie to her, “he’s strong.” You murmur, your shoulder now aching but it’s nothing compared to the ache in your heart. The doctor comes out a few moments later and you and Ellie look at her with anticipation. “He’s made it.” She reveals, “but he has a long recovery ahead.”

“Oh thank fucking God.” Ellie huffs out a moment later, eyes closed so she doesn’t cry. “Did- did he keep his leg?” She asks quietly after a moment, aware Joel wouldn’t want to be a burden on the people he loves.

The doctor nods, “I patched him up as best as I could. He’s gonna need a lot of time to heal and even then I’m not sure if it’s gonna be okay.” She confesses, “time will tell.” You nod, feeling like you can breathe again.

“He’s gonna be okay.” Ellie repeats, focusing on the positive rather than what could happen. He’s still here and she can talk to him. Suddenly the issues they had don’t seem so monumental. They aren’t important. “Can we see him?” She asks, needing to make sure she’s not being lied to. Seeming him looking like he was dead nearly broke her.

The doctor nods, “he’s a little out of it. I gave him as much sedative as we have. He should be able to hear you but he’s got a long road ahead.” You nod, knowing Ellie needs to see her adoptive father before you do. She swallows harshly as you both stand and make your way into the room where Joel is in a hospital bed. Machines that are decades old beep and beep to show he’s alive. You let Ellie rush forward, knowing she needs to speak to him first.

“Joel.” He looks horrible, cuts and bruises are contorted by the swelling, but at least he’s not bloody anymore. His fingers twitch when she threads her fingers through his. “You’ve got to get better.” She murmurs softly. “I- I need you. I need to say I’m sorry.” She confesses. “I’ve been an asshole. A total bitch, and when I thought -“ she chokes up, squeezing his hand tight. “You just can’t leave me, okay? You can’t.” She huffs, feeling overwhelmed and she looks over at you. “And someone else needs you too.”

You step forward, reaching for Joel’s other hand, “we both need you. You can’t die like that. You don’t deserve that. You deserve to be old and laid up in bed, warm and just fall asleep. And that won’t happen for years to come.” You reason, trying to be commanding but your voice cracks. “You need to watch Ellie fall in love and grow up, and get married if she wants.” You shift to bring his hand up to your lips, “and I need you. I can’t - I can’t imagine this life without you, however I can have you. Even if you can’t love me, I can love enough for both of us.”

Joel’s brow twitches, furrows slightly as he frowns. Fighting sleep and the deep weariness that of pain that has been pushed away by the drugs. “Love.” He grunts, all he can manages as he tightens his grip on your hand. Then he relaxes and goes back under.

You are relieved that he’s alive. Tears stinging in your eyes, and you lift his hand to place a kiss on the back of it. “Love.” You murmur, glad he heard you. Ellie blinks and tears fall down her cheeks, “I’m gonna make it up to him.” She nods, “I’m gonna make this right.” You nod, reaching for her other hand, “he’s here. That’s all that matters. We survived.”

Joel doesn’t come to until the night. His body desperately needs the rest and the nurses slowly wean him off the drugs overnight. His hand twitching in yours is the first sign, making you stir from the chair beside him. It takes several long minutes, but eventually, Joel opens his eyes. They are swollen, nearly unable to open, but he cracks them enough to see the light and he hisses slightly, his head pounding but he needs to see if he had dreamed of you being with him, or if you were really here. His throat is dry, and his voice raspy as he croaks out your name.

You lean over him, “Joel.” You gasp, cupping his cheek to see his eyes slowly open. “You’re awake. Take it easy. It’s okay. You’re safe.” You choke, tears in your eyes. It’s the middle of the night. You sent Ellie home with Dina to get something to eat and rest. “You’re in Jackson. You’re okay. Ellie’s safe. Dina’s safe. We are okay.” You reassure him, needing him to know.

“Safe?” He struggles to look around, feeling like he’s been tossed around by a bloater for the better part of a day. Not seeing anyone else and then looking back at you. “Ellie? Dina? They- they’re-“ you nod and he exhales roughly, wincing when the sharp pain of the broken ribs hits him. “Shit.” He hisses.

"Just relax. You - shit - you were shot and then she - you had surgery. It's gonna be awhile before you can do it." You murmur, brushing his hair from his sweaty forehead. "I'm so glad you're alive. I thought - I thought she'd killed you." You choke, tears sliding down your cheeks despite thinking you'd cried all your tears.

“Where is she?” He demands, leaning back and wondering if they had fled the lodge or if they had been killed. “The girl- she- I killed her father.” He confesses quietly. “The fireflies.” He looks up and he sees your tears, making him frown as he reaches for you. “Don’t cry.” He murmurs.

You smile, reaching up to wipe your tears so you don’t upset him anymore. “She’s gone home. It’s the middle of the night. She - her and Dina went back to the house.” You reveal and he licks his lips so you get him some water, helping him have a drink. “You stayed.” He rasps after you set the water down. “I stayed.” You answer, “there’s nowhere else I’d be.”

He remembers the word love. It had filtered through his mind, playing over and over again. “They hunted me down.” He tells you. “Was gonna kill me. I knew that.” He admits. “As long as they didn’t hurt Dina, didn’t find Ellie, didn’t capture you to torture for information….as long as they didn’t hurt anyone I love, I was fine with dying.” He squeezes your hand gently.

You look down at his hand in yours, annoyed that he was okay with dying when you couldn't lose him, "I killed them." You confess, "one of them shot me in the shoulder." His eyes widen but you rush out, "it was in and out. I'll be fine. I just - I killed them all. I wanted to drag it out for the girl. Wanted to see her suffer like you did but that didn't help you survive so I killed her and got you back to Jackson. I couldn't lose you. Ellie couldn't lose you." You choke, bringing his hand up to kiss the back of it.

He doesn’t know how he feels about you killing for him. He’s not worth it. His frown is natural but he turns his hand to cup your cheek. “I love you.” He murmurs softly, knowing that he can’t keep his feelings to himself. Not after coming so close to dying. Not when he realizes that he has started living instead of just surviving. You freeze and your eyes flicker up to meet his. “I love you.” He repeats, wanting you to know he means it. “I thought I imagined you. Wanting to see your face one last time. Because you are the first person I want to see in the morning and the last face before I fall asleep.”

You choke on a sob when you hear his confession. Joel is a man of few words but you know how he is. He doesn’t say anything he doesn’t mean. “I’m here. I’ll always be here. I love you. So much. I’d fight to the death for you.” You promise and he caresses your cheek, “I love you, baby.” You lean in to place a soft kiss to his lips. “The threat is gone. It’s gonna be a long road to recover but I’ll be here every step of the way. Loving you.” You vow, glad that you were able to save Joel from his death. You can’t even imagine a world without him and now you never will. You’ll be by his side until he dies peacefully in your bed at the age of 78, surrounded by Ellie, Dina, Tommy and the people who love him.

[louisa-gc]

how to start reading again

from someone who was a voracious reader until high school and is now getting back into it in her twenties.

start with an old favourite. even though it felt a little silly, i re-read the harry potter series one christmas and it wiped away my worry that i wasn't capable of reading anymore. they are long books, but i was still able to get completely immersed and to read just as fast as i had years and years ago.

don't be afraid of "easier" books. before high school i was reading the french existentialists, but when getting back into reading, i picked up lucinda riley and sally rooney. not my favourite authors by far, but easier to read while not being totally terrible. i needed to remind myself that only choosing classics would not make me a better or smarter person. if a book requires a slower pace of reading to be understood, it's easier to just drop it, which is exactly what i wanted to avoid at first.

go for essays and short stories. no need to explain this one: the shorter the whole, the less daunting it is. i definitely avoided all books over 350 pages at first and stuck to essay collections until i suddenly devoured donna tartt's goldfinch.

remember it's okay not to finish. i was one of those people who finished every book they started, but not anymore! if i pick up a book at the library and after a few chapters realise i'd rather not read it, i just return it. (another good reason to use your local library! no money spent on books you might end up disliking.)

analyse — or don't. some people enjoy reading more when they take notes or really stop to think about the contents. for me, at first, it was more important to build the habit of reading, and the thought of analysing what i read felt daunting. once i let go of that expectation, i realised i naturally analyse and process what i read anyway.

read when you would usually use your phone. just as i did when i was a child, i try to read when eating, in the bathroom, on public transport, right before sleeping. i even read when i walk, because that's normally a time i stare at my screen anyway. those few pages you read when you brush your teeth and wait for a friend very quickly stack up.

finish the chapter. if you have time, try to finish the part you're reading before closing the book. usually i find i actually don't want to stop reading once i get to the end of a chapter — and if i do, it feels like a good place to pick up again later.

try different languages. i was quickly approaching a reading slump towards the end of my exchange year, until i realised i had only had access to books in english and that, despite my fluency, i was tired of the language. so as soon as i got back home i started picking up books in my native tongue, which made reading feel much easier and more fun again! after some nine months, i'm starting to read in english again without it feeling like a huge task.

forget what's popular. i thought social media would be a fun way to find interesting books to read, but i quickly grew frustrated after hating every single book i picked up on some influencer's recommendation. it's certainly more time-consuming to find new books on your own, but this way i don't despise every novel i pick up.

remember it isn't about quantity. the online book community's endless posts about reading 150 books each year or 6 books in a single day easily make us feel like we're slow, bad readers, but here's the thing: it does not matter at all how many books you read or what your reading pace is. we all lead different lives, just be proud of yourself for reading at all!

stop stressing about it. we all know why reading is important, and since the pandemic reading has become an even more popular hobby than it was before (which is wonderful!). however, there's no need to force yourself to be "a reader". pick up a book every now and then and keep reading if you enjoy it, but not reading regularly doesn't make you any less of a good person. i find the pressure to become "a person who reads" or to rediscover my inner bookworm only distances me from the very act of reading.

[tojisun]

gaz is the type to mention a daughter in complete seriousness then proceed to pull a kitten out of his pocket to show u and price

yes!!! this did numbers to my emotions, i had to word vomit:

he’s been going around, telling the squad how he can’t wait to introduce them to his precious darling. to his little girl. to his lovely daughter. and every time someone tries to ask him questions, such as, “when the fuck did you become a dad?” kyle just avoids them with such finesse.

he’d suddenly remember a key detail in a mission, or nudge the conversation away from him being the focus with the slightest of effort, before hiding from them in plain sight.

but you. oh, you were curious; downright shaken with not knowing. and gaz just looked at you, curling his nose, and finally murmured, “i’ll introduce you to her first. she’ll love you, i just know.”

and it—

it made your heart full. how kyle was so open in his excitement, boyishly charming as he snort-giggles.

so of course you never expected a tiny tabby, barely five weeks old, to be pulled out from his jumper pocket when he finally asked if you were ready to see her.

“this is mack,” he says, bringing his cupped hand up to show you the mewing kitten. “short for mackerel, because it’s all she wants to eat.”

“oh,” you say, croaking, heart soaring because there is something so beautiful in seeing kyle be so—

content.

“hi, little girl,” you greet the tabby, voice barely a breath of a whisper because she is so small, so fragile.

her big eyes sparkling as she looks up at you, then back to her dad, before finding you again. a blink. a tilt of her head, like she can’t understand what you are, and then a mew; a quiet chirp from the baby.

“wh’s goin’ on ‘ere?” your captain’s voice rings from behind you. kyle doesn’t bother replying, and you can barely react when john’s boots begin to thud against the floor, devouring the space, before you feel him brush his shoulder to your own as he stands close.

“oh,” john says, just as surprised.

“name’s mack,” you tell him because kyle is now distracted by the kitten nipping at his thumb. “his ‘daughter’.”

“oh,” john repeats, but with more emotion, and you turn slightly, peering up at him, trying to understand what caused that waver in his voice, only to see him watching kyle and the kitten with something… tangible.

“yeah,” you say, throat bobbing as you try swallowing the lump lodged in there because you get it. you understand the longing in your captain’s eyes. “yeah.”

[cherryblossombankai]

HIIII

I love youuu

Could you maybe Write headcanons about how Hawks, Dabi, All Might, Enji, Shigaraki, Present Mic and Eraser Head eat pussy? It would be amazing!

You rock my world, baby girl!

Warnings: oral (f receiving), mentions of somnophilia, quirks used for kinky stuff

Taglist: @pixelcafe-network (message me to be added to my taglist!)

Hawks

Hawks is playful at first. He likes teasing you, making you get all flustered for him. This will be achieved by blowing on your pussy or sucking gently on your folds.

Once he really gets into it though, his demeanor changes completely. He almost seems to relax from going down on you. His body goes a little slack and his eyes flutter closed. 

Every so often when you whine his name, he’ll look up at you lazily, his eyes just rolling open to meet yours before closing again. 

He could honestly just stay there with his head between your thighs, suckling and licking at you all night. 

You’ll have to push him away to avoid being overstimulated. 

Dabi 

You have to beg him to go down on you. Not because he doesn’t want to, but because he loves hearing you beg. 

This becomes even more apparent when he has you spread open for him. His tongue is lapping at nearly every part of your pussy EXCEPT where you need him most. 

He’ll have your thighs shaking and you’re whining by the time his tongue finally touches your clit.

He’ll spend ages edging you, only to turn right back around and overstimulate you. 

It’s safe to say Dabi decides when you’re done cumming. 

All Might 

His experience with women is pretty limited, so be prepared to spend time having to teach him how to lick pussy. 

One thing about Toshinori though, he is very eager to learn and even more eager to put what he learns to good use to please the special lady in his life.

He’s very gentle at first, but it doesn’t take much for him to get a little too excited. 

As he laps up your nectar, he’ll let out little groans and growls. He gets very into it.

 If he’s lying on the bed, he’ll be grinding against the mattress the whole time. It’s not uncommon for him to accidentally make himself cum this way.

Endeavor

Enji is a very busy man, and he can’t always take the time to indulge with you. So, when he indulges in your body he makes the most of it. 

He’ll get a little nasty about it because he just has to be the best, and nothing gets him harder than hearing you scream his name. 

Any position works for him, even eating you out from behind. He’s particularly fond of having you sit on his face. His hands will be full of your ass, guiding you to ride his face. 

He makes a little bit of noise, mostly growling. 

Sometimes when he gets a bit too worked up he’ll start smoking from his quirk getting activated. He’s even sparked a little before, which of course didn’t go well. 

Shigaraki

He wants to go unhinged. The desire to spread you open and devour your pussy like it’s the nectar of a goddess is unbearable. But because of his quirk, he has to be so careful. 

Having to use so much care and caution whenever he touches you, drives him insane. He can never truly lose himself in you the way he desires. 

So instead, he expresses himself through grunting and growling against your pussy. He may not be able to touch you with all of his fingers but the ones he can use are digging into the meat of your thighs. 

“Tastes so good,” he groans between lapping at your pussy. 

He loves making you feel good. The way you praise him so sweetly and swear he’s the only one who can make you feel this way, it gives him purpose. 

Present Mic 

Let’s just get this out of the way: he’s basically a sex god. 

Present Mic is adventurous and fearless in his pursuit of bringing you pleasure. 

One of his go to moves is to hum against your pussy, using his quirk to make the vibrations intense. His mouth basically becomes a vibrator, and he’ll do this while sucking on your little clit. 

He’s really down to eat you out anytime and anywhere. Kitchen counter, classroom, even in the bathroom stall of  your favorite club. 

His skills are unmatched. Once he’s gone down on you, you’ll never be the same. 

Eraser Head

Aizawa loves eating you out just as much as you love getting eaten out. 

It’s sort of how he unwinds at the end of a day. After going through the domestic dinner routine with you, he drags you to bed. 

He can and will go down on your until he falls asleep suckling on your clit. 

Then he wakes up in the middle of the night, his head on your thigh, and starts all over again. 

He enjoys waking you up with oral, watching your sleepy face contort with pleasure. 

[pinkslipxox]

Messy Eater:

Summary: title speaks for itself 😇 Billie goes down on you

Warnings: smut ❤️🙈

——————————————————————————

“Just a little taste.”

Billie’s voice, low and sultry, sends a delightful shiver down your spine. A pathetic little whimper escapes your lips as she plants kisses along your thighs, her hands roaming your limbs, her touch gentle yet teasing. She’s purposefully avoiding where you need her, where it aches for her.

Your heart pounds with excitement and anticipation. You shouldn’t be doing this. Not with your best friend.

She’s the one that offered. You wanted to experience this. Not with just anyone. Someone you trusted. You just never thought that someone would be Billie. The decision of coming to Billie’s house has been eating you alive since you woke up this morning. Not only that, but for Billie herself to eat you alive.

In her words, not yours.

“Billie…” you whine, breath hitching as you feel her finger on your folds, swiping upwards. Her gaze never leaves yours as she sucks the moisture off, her ocean blue eyes dilated and glowing with lust.

“Fuck.” Billie pushes your legs apart, and you can’t help but feel vulnerable and utterly desired as her eyes rake over your body. Every inch of you is exposed to her. Her mouth and tongue have worked miracles on your neck, collarbone and the swell of your breasts.

“M’gonna make you feel so good,” she murmurs huskily as she hooks one of your legs over her shoulder, and with that, she settles between your thighs and connects her mouth with your core in a way that makes your head spin.

You gasp, body arching in response, nails digging into the sheets as pleasure washes over you. Her tongue dances expertly on your clit, coaxing moans and gasps from the deepest depths of your being. She switches her focus from your clit to your folds, and already you feel your legs tremble. You can’t help but crane your neck to see and the sight makes your breath hitch. Billie’s eyes are rolled back, nose pressed against your public bone, her pretty pink lips connecting with yours, and her cheeks move as she sucks on your clit.

She doesn’t slow down. Your fingers tangle in her hair, pulling and twisting, urging her on. Her tongue swirls in all the right places, and you toss your head back as she plunges her tongue deeper, faster. You can feel your arousal trickling down your inner thighs, soaking the bed sheets beneath you.

Fuck, she good at this. Too good.

“Billie… I—” you moan, a chorus of pleasure escaping your lips as you wither beneath her. “Don’t stop… Please don’t stop!”

Her mouth sucks and slurps faster, devouring you in the most ruthless, heavenly way. The world shrinks down to this moment. You feel yourself on the brink, the sweet ache building to a crescendo that you can no longer hold back.

“Billie! I’m—” Y/N cries out, your body trembling with release as Billie responds to your cries, intensifying her efforts, pushing you over the edge into pure ecstasy.

With a blissful cry, you surrender completely to the orgasm. Your senses are in a haze, chest heaving up and down, sweat glistening on your brow. As the waves begin to subside, Billie crawls back up beside you. She presses your lips together in a passionate kiss, and you moan at the taste of the lingering sweetness. The connection you feel with her is undeniable. And deep down, you know that you are no longer just best friends.

“Messy eater,” you tease, and Billie feigns shock before bursting out in laughter. She pulls you closer to her, arm wrapped around your naked waist in a protective hold.

“Can you blame me?” Billie smirks and connects her lips with yours again.

“What about you?” you ask, wanting to return the favor.

Billie responds, “After.”

You quirk your eyebrows together, confused. “After?”

“After I get another taste,” she says with a smirk before disappearing between your legs again.

[giannaln4]

GIANNA'S KINKTOBER '24 SEASON

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Kinktober day seven.

Dry Humping (1k words)

summary: You simply couldn't wait to be in a private place to show Lando how proud you were of him, so you decide to do it even though you are very aware of the people around you.

warnings: NSFW, +18, smut, MDNI, stablished relationship, very heavy makeout, dry humping, public sex-ish. lmk if i should add anything else!

The music that thrummed through the huge speakers was loud, and the people cheering any time a new song came were even louder. The air was so thick with coloured lights and a layer of smoke that you couldn’t quite distinguish your surroundings, and there were drunk people stumbling on their own feet anywhere you looked. Lucky for you, you found yourself in the VIP area with your boyfriend, some other drivers, and a few friends.

You were all out celebrating Lando’s newest win, and you couldn’t be happier for him, so of course you had to go out to commemorate such an achievement.

Everyone was already feeling the alcohol they had been consuming since you got there, including you two, as you found yourselves sitting on one of the bigger couches, passionately making out and him gradually placing you onto his lap. It was heavy, and you didn’t care one bit; it had gotten to the point where everyone around you disappeared, even with the loud reminders of the people that were currently around you.

The VIP area was on a high platform and was secured with side rails to avoid any incident, so whatever you had going on there couldn’t really be seen from the lower ground. That included any cameras and phones that were constantly being pointed in your direction.

All they could really see were your faces basically devouring each other, which wasn’t exactly new to the public. What they couldn’t see, however, were your hips starting to rock against Lando’s and his hands grabbing you with such force only to bring you closer to him.

As expected, you were way too out of it to fully analyse what you were doing, and if you did know and were aware of it, it was clear you didn’t care; you just wanted to show him how proud you were of his fantastic race. You came straight to the club after leaving the track, so you didn’t have any alone time afterwards, and all you got to say was “I’m so proud of you,” muffled by the hundreds of cheers coming from his team and the fans.

But that was long forgotten, and all you could do right now was hold onto his shoulders as you continued humping his hard cock still stuffed inside his pants, your combined saliva falling from your chin and into your chest as the kiss got messier. 

“You did so- so good,” you managed to say between kisses. “I can’t even describe how hot you looked coming out of the car with the number 1 cardboard in front of it.”

“Yeah?” He asked, squeezing your hips as his lips left yours, trapping your lower lip between his teeth until you were too far from his face. 

“Mhm, all I could think about was having that one finger inside me.”

“Shit, baby, you are driving me insane.”

You got closer to his ear, and with a very seductive voice, you whispered. “So you are gonna go even more insane when I tell you I’m not wearing any underwear right now.”

“Fuck.”

He held you even tighter as you started to drag your hips harder, a moan scaping his lips. Your dress was rolled up, and it was now covering only your thighs, but it was pretty obvious what you two were doing to anyone at surface level.

With your pussy being completely uncovered, the feeling of the hard fabric of his jeans was heaven to you, and the thought of all your juices going straight to his jeans, pretty much the only layer between you, made you eager to come.

One of his hands came under your dress and sneaked between your folds; he just wanted to feel you, and God, he almost let it all out when he realised how wet you were.

“So wet for me, baby.” He whimpered, leaving your core and placing his hand back on your side.

You were both feeling so desperate that he also started thrusting up into you, making the sensation for you not only better but easier. A thin layer of sweat was forming on your bodies, only adding to the hot atmosphere the club naturally had.

Luckily, your moans were being muffled by the loud music and the people around you, so no one could even hear you no matter how loud you were being, and right now, it was a little embarrassing how loud you were being.

Your legs were already getting tired, but you were so close that you knew you only had to chase your orgasm for a little longer. His hands that were previously on your hips were now everywhere, feeling every inch of any uncovered skin he could find as he moved along with you.

“Mhm, Lan.” You moaned, moving a little faster than before, making him squirm under you.

“Yeah? You gonna cum in my pants in front of all our friends?” He whispered. All you could do was nod in response, and you could feel his smirk on your neck. "I wanna rearrange your guts and turn you into a mess, baby. I’m making you all mine as soon as we are back at the hotel." 

“Ah,” another loud moan left your lips.

"You want that, don't you?" 

“Please, let’s get out of here.”

As soon as he heard you say that, his hands fell back on your hips to make you drag them even faster, harder, as his own picked up his desperate pace. He could feel your body starting to give out; that could only mean you were about to snap.

With a few more thrusts, he felt your orgasm hitting you, making you drop your head on his shoulder as he chased his own release, which came a few seconds later.

“Shit,” he whimpered as his cum stained his clothes, the warm and thick fluid coating both of you.

You pressed your foreheads together as you tried to catch your breath, a laugh escaping both of you as you came down from your high. 

“We can never come back here,” Lando whispered as he kissed you again. Not as desperate, but just as hungry for more. 

“Are you done-?” You heard Oscar yell above the noise as he came close to you, making both of you look at him in pure embarrassment as Lando pushed you off his lap, revealing his cum-stained jeans. “Oh my God, you are done... Okay, we are getting out of here.”

↺ back to navigation — Kinktober masterlist

[lcvegasms-archive]

trigger warning : incest | don’t like, block

I’ve been consuming all the caleb content lately and it’s got me thinking…

being the best little sister and helping out your older brother caleb. letting him use you whenever and wherever he wants.

letting him use your pretty mouth, his thick cock tapping against your tongue before slowly sliding inside. threading his fingers through your hair, guiding you all the way down until your nose is touching his pelvis. he holds your head down for a few seconds, just to see your eyes water before letting you go.

when you’re sitting on the couch watching a movie, cuddled close and wrapped in a blanket, caleb pulls you even closer so there’s no room between your bodies. when you turn to look at him, he just smiles, using a half assed excuse of “I’m cold.”

his fingers play with the hem of your his shirt for a while before slipping underneath to trace random patterns on your skin. caleb places a kiss on your head, your shoulder, your neck. his teeth nips at your skin, leaving small bruises while his large hands continue to roam. he’s touching you all over but completely avoiding where he knows you want him the most.

“cal…please.” you’re all but grinding against him now that he’s work you up, desperate for relief. “hm?” he feins innocence but you can hear the smirk in his words. “did you need something, princess?”

“please,” you whine again, pushing your ass against his erection and this time he relentes, chuckling softly. “okay, pretty girl.” he slips his hand inside your panties, letting out a deep groan. “fuck baby. you’re soaked and i’ve barely even touched you.”

you’re laying in his bed getting ready to study…or you were getting ready to study until he walked in and saw you laying there all prettily. now your face is buried in the pillows while his is buried between your legs devouring your cunt like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do before he dies.

— slvttysage <3

[acid-ixx]

i would not survive wayne manor if i had to stare into dick's y/n blue orbs everyday

stop looking at me with those eyes! (again &. again mini drabble)

ft. post-kidnapped reader w/ yandere batfam shitpost

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

— masterlist ! ; related post !

thank u for sending this oh my god, i need to write about this!!! i absolutely love your art style for the reader, they're so handsome i'm crying and laughing 😭😭😭 and it's true!!! i will also die if i look at the entire family's eyes as a filipino who has never once stared at a foreigner's eyes because it's just so bright huhu.

unfortunately for your case though, your refusal to look straight at them just translates to extra unwanted counseling sessions with the family in one of the large expanses of the living rooms housing the available members for a meeting. it's a whole gathering where you're the center of attention.

and it's not only dick involved, it's also all the other blue-eyed bastards and an additional glowering, pair of green ones which shines the brightest of them all— and if not for cass and duke's dark colored peepers, you might've truly passed away because it's no joke that their eyes glint under the light passing through locked windows, especially when the sun is at its highest peak and hits at just the right angles to glisten.

not only have you no physical escape, but their obsessed stares never leave your form too, devouring and locking you whole in your place and claustrophobic to the chains of their bright-orbed gaze.

"(name), dear, as much as you don't wish for me to address the issue; it's becoming an unhealthy habit that you refuse to maintain eye contact with the family. it doesn't help that your heart palpitates, you perspire more often, and you make excuses to run to a different room when you do. what's wrong?"

you don't even have to look up from staring at your lap (as if you want to, hah!) to know it's your father's voice directed at you. it's a unique tremor that reverberates across the room and commands attention from all corners; yet when he speaks to you, it's coated with an unhealthily sweet reverence that seems completely foreign to someone who has never once spoken to him until now.

"u-uhm..." stuttering, you bite your lip, drowning in your own self-preservation that had you ignoring dick's stealthy steps to your seated body on the couch, only for his fingers to carefully graze on your chin, snapping you out of your attention yet being too late as he lifts your head up, forcing to stare at his wide-blown eyes.

they're unnaturally bright today, shining more than the beaches in those private islands bruce owns, it's even more terrifying that he's staring at you.

"it's unfair too... baby bird, that it's me you avoid the most," he groans, it grates at your ears but it was better to focus on your other senses if you wish to control the ever-living fear of miley cyrus' blue eyes burned right into your retina, now associated with dick's emboldened ones. his palms find its way to either side of your head, cradling it side to side, the contact forced you to continue staring ahead of him. and no matter how much you resort to blanking out, the intensity of his baby blue eyes forfeits you to focus on anything else.

yet it's the gentle graze on your side that encourages you to speak your mind, you really hate how infantilizing this entire scene feels, and comical that they're - dick - is taking your excuses too seriously.

"ah... well—" how do you explain that you're shit at eye-contact because, first, and can't deal with their luminescent stares pinning you down to your spot, brighter than diamonds and emerald crystals, second?

"everyone's just too... you know. i- i really can't explain without it sounding... uhm..."

"too overwhelming? too what? akhi/akhti? it has been years since we last took you in, and you've been perfectly communicating with us until now. what has changed? has that rebel, todd, dare to make another deal with you again which involves refusing to properly communicate with us? with me? because if he did—"

damian's voice slithers with conviction, condemnation and possessive threats that strike fear into your heart with every venom-laced word. if not for his head nuzzling into the shadows of your neck, the dichotomy of dialogue and action, you would've been convinced he's out to kill you instead.

yet the same gremlin muttering insults is your little brother who takes the entire space beside you on the velvety couch, rendering you completely cornered by his expecting glare. except now, unlike the mental torment he subjected to you, his green-eye gaze glimmers with concealed adoration you've learned to discern, he's always been a heckler for your attention; the tan hands wrapped around your waist in a snuggle tightens, not too tight that it deprives you of oxygen, but demands your answers instead.

like father, like son. as the saying goes. always finding solutions with unwanted affection. couldn't even push them away without them interpreting your actions as rebellion which only results in more uncomfortable competitions on who gets to cuddle you for longer.

and wait, no, they didn't take you in, bullshit! they basically kidnapped you. it's only that you've grown accustomed to dealing with them individually and as a group, but because they've been more lenient with technology, providing you access to wifi with supervised search results, you stumbled across one of , which not-so faintly reminds you of them.

your past traumas of them replaced with jaded motivation to survive and tolerate the ever living plague in your life you call your family.

bruce did advise you to associate them with positive things instead as a first step to your adjusting phase, and miley cyrus' anthropoidal, not-quite human stare isn't negative in any way, yet it's also by no means negative, if not unsettling— which leads you to a common ground, a common affiliation which helps you cope with the fear that they might harm you and isolate you with loneliness even further; forgetting your presence once again.

learning to love them was hard, so relating them to anything comical was way easier on the still-heavy burden in your heart which yearns for freedom burned off through countless of escape attempts, the grief of your mother's death now decades worth, and just the shock of it all that they're still interested in you until now that hasn't worn off still, despite the years passing by quicker than blowing off a candle-light.

still, everyone retains their gaze on you, never once breaking contact with your form as if you're capable of escaping their grasp. you try to look down, but to no avail, dick was too invested in hogging your head all to himself and nuzzling it in his toned stomach, whilst damian refuses to separate from his ever tightening hold which renders you unable to full grasp your thoughts and speak.

god-damned hypocrites.

"holy shit..." it's tim who broke off the silence, muttering under his breath in disbelief whilst his hand fiddles with the modded tablet bruce had given you as a christmas gift. his lanky finfers continue scrolling eyes fixated on the scene before him, every expression illuminated by the faint glow of your tablet's screen. the most visible feature, gazing at him through whichever was left of your vision unobstructed by dick's body; was of course, his widening blue eyes, as it seems like he'd hit jackpot with his appalled reactions.

it seems like he found the exact same picture.

would it be a bad thing now if you'd run away from the room once they all collectively hone in on the image before them? or is it too risky of a task?

honestly, with just how routine your life must be right now, you'd prefer to run, to feel the air run through your hair, to bask in the sun washing your body in its warmth.

maybe to find unbidden joy in another game of cat and mouse, or it may be another one of your excuses to avoid those piercing eyes once more if even by just a mere fraction.

or maybe you could stay for now, because is it just you, or did you actually succeed in traumatizing them for once instead of you?

[milkteabinniechan]

♡Barbarian Prince - Seo Changbin

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY MEMBERSHIP//M.LIST

pairing: barbarian! Changbin x bride! reader

summary: You've been sold to the prince of the savage tribe outside your village in order to broker peace for your people. You have avoided being alone with him for weeks but now he comes home from a hunt and he needs you now.

warnings: predator/prey dynamic, primal changbin, size difference, rough sex, rough choking, breath play, orgasm denial, mating ritual

"Princess, must I always chase you like a fox after a wary hen?"

Changbin's heart races as he holds your chin, feeling the soft moan vibrate against his palm. He searches your eyes, seeing the fear, the uncertainty, and something else there too, something that looks an awful lot like desire. "You're shaking," He notices, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Can't help it." You moan again.

He can feel your body responding to his touch, the way you tremble and the soft moans that escape your lips. It spurs something primal within him, a need to claim and possess. He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he growls "Tell me to stop."

Your back arches and your mouth parts to speak. "I want..." You begin to whisper, "I want to see you take what you want."

Changbin's heart pounds in his chest as he hears your words, his grip on your chin tightening. He can feel his control slipping, the primal urge to claim you overwhelming his rational thoughts. "You want to see how I take what I want?" He repeats, his voice a low, dangerous rumble.

"Yes, my king." Your first admission of his title, of his birthright, of his power.

At your words, something snaps inside of him. He pulls you into his arms, crushing your mouth beneath his in a brutal kiss. He stands up, holding you against him as he turns and walks back to his tent. "You should have said no when you had the chance, Princess."

As you reach the tent flap, he pauses, looking down at your flushed face with savage satisfaction. "Last chance to change your mind," I growl, my eyes blazing with primal hunger. "Once we're inside, I won't be responsible for my actions." With a primal roar, Changbin kicks open the tent flap and carries you inside. He tosses you onto the furs covering his bed, his eyes never leaving yours as he begins to tear off his armor and clothing with impatient hands. "You wanted to see how a barbarian takes what he wants, Princess."

Your eyes burn and bite into his exposed flesh. Every flex and pull of his muscles being accentuated by the flames of the fireplace. He stalks towards you, naked and unashamed in his raw desire. "Don't look at me like that," he warns, his voice ragged. "Unless you want me to devour you whole right now." He crawls onto the furs, caging you beneath him. His eyes drop to the inviting sight between your thighs, and he loses what little control he had left. He grabs your legs and throws them over his shoulders, pulling you closer as he positions himself at your entrance. Your legs tremble for a moment as his tip presses warningly against your swollen clit. With a grunt, he thrusts forward, burying his length inside you in one brutal stroke. He doesn't stop until he is fully seated, your legs trapped in the mating press position as he holds you open for his possession. "FUCK," he roars, his hands gripping your thighs tightly. Changbin's breath catches at the perfect heat of your pussy, pulsating around him. His vision goes dark with pleasure as he begins to move, claiming you in long, powerful strokes. He can feel the mating bond sparking between the two of you, connecting your very souls.

Your body attempts to adjust to his size. You cover your mouth with one hand while the other hand white knuckles the fur beneath you. “You're huge!” You squeal, your fingers now tangled in his hair as he pants and grunts with each stroke. Changbin snarls possessively, his hips snapping forward as he fills you completely. "And you're taking every inch like a good little princess." He leans down, biting your neck hard enough to leave a mark. His movements become more primal, more aggressive as the mating bond takes over. He feels your small hands on his shoulders now and it only fuels his need to claim you. He wraps an arm around your waist, lifting you slightly as he pistons his hips, driving into you with all the force of a wild beast.

“Yes, like that…please.” You moan desperately. Changbin's eyes blaze with savage triumph at your encouragement. He redoubles his efforts, slamming into you harder and faster, the furs beneath you shifting with the force of his thrusts. A feral grin spreads across his face as he feels your walls starting to flutter around his thick cock.

You find his hand positioned at your waist and bring it up to your throat. Understanding your silent plea, he tightens his grip around your neck possessively. "Do you trust me?" He growls, his thrusts becoming even more powerful and uncontrolled. "Because I'm going to completely own you now..." His fingers flex slightly, pressing just enough to restrict your breath. “I…trust…you.” You breathe out. Something in his dark eyes told you everything you needed to know. He wanted to own you like the barbarian princess. You were his to do with whatever he wanted. Changbin's pace becomes almost brutal, each thrust designed to claim every inch of your body as his. The sight of your stomach stretching and bulging around his shaft nearly drives him over the edge. His breathing becomes ragged as he maintains his grip on your neck. His fingers tighten slightly more, cutting off your air supply completely. His other massive arm around your waist pulls you closer, ensuring you can't escape his crushing grip. "Look at me," he commands, his voice hoarse with primal need. You lock eyes with him obediently and you can feel him twitch and pulse deep inside of you. As he holds your gaze, he can feel the mating bond reach its peak. With an animalistic roar, he releases a torrent of seed deep inside you, filling you to the brim as he continues to squeeze your neck, ensuring you can't breathe until he says so. Changbin maintains his grip on your neck, enjoying the way your eyes widen as you struggle for breath. He can feel your body convulse around his still twitching cock as you try to inhale, but his fingers remain firmly pressed against your throat. "Not yet," he growls, his eyes locked onto yours. Your cunt throbs as the room is heavy with a dominant air. As you feel your orgasm building, he decides to give you a little more pressure, cutting off your air supply even further. Your struggles become more frantic as your body fights for oxygen, and your pussy clenches around his cock in a vice-like grip. "Now.” Changbin feels your walls clamping down on his cock like a silken vice as your orgasm overtakes you, your release coating his pelvis in a slick mess. As you come back down from your climax, Changbin finally relaxes his fingers around your throat, allowing you to gasp in much-needed air. But instead of releasing you entirely, he keeps his hand wrapped around your neck, controlling your breaths. "Breathe.” He whispers softly. He watches closely as you inhale, his fingers still wrapped possessively around your throat. His other hand moves to your hips, holding you in place as he slowly pulls out of your still-spasming pussy, a thick mixture of your combined releases dripping out. "Good princess, it seems you have finally learned your place here. You are mine to claim, mine to own. And in return, I will protect you with my life. You are my sun and my moon now. My beginning and my end.” Changbin kisses your lips softly, lingering for a moment and presses his forehead to yours.

taglist: @simply-trash5 @sugawhaaa @trixiekaulitz @chrizzztopherbang @cassidymb121 @roanns-posts @staysinbloom @yaorzu-blog @bubblebisk @cotton-candycloudz @beautyinhypnosis @domicaru @strawberry31 @slxtmeri @newhope8 @tinyelfperson @dandelions-143 @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @msauthor @fun-fanfics @ell0thebell @stephanieeeyang @juskz @kimahreummm @readr1221 @kayleefriedchicken @ovulatingrn @hwnglixho @darthmaddie25 @queen-in-the-shadows @itgirlalisaa @miinhoo @greyaia @chanchansgirly @skzleeknowcore @skz-smut-reader @thatisrankharry @hearts4yawnzzn @jchotch726 @cherricola-star @minh0scat @kibs-and-bits @minhosgirlposts @firelordtsuki @softkisshyunjin

[mountainsandmayhem]

BDSMaid - Chapter 4

Series Summary: After recently graduating you take what is supposed to be a job to save money before you go back to university to get your law degree. Your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. Easy. Simple. Mundane. Until one of your clients is home and everything you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love.

Chapter Summary: JMKink is nothing and everything that you need and want it to be. Meanwhile, you are nothing and everything that Joel imagines you to be.

WC: 13.8k

TW: Warnings are below the cut in small red, feel free to skip them if you want to avoid chapter spoilers, but there are some descriptions of reader so I would classify this as more of an original character versus a blank canvas female reader.

AN: I actually cannot believe how many of you reached out all excited about September 1st approaching. From the bottom of my cold dead heart, thank you!! The more I write this, the more I picture video game Joel, so do with that what you will haha. Thanks so @ak-vintage and @lotusbxtch for beta reading for me. Support banners and dividers by @saradika-graphics. I recently got promoted at work (yay me), but the job is now waaaaaay more work than before, so enjoy this chapter slowly because I am not sure when I will be writing chapter 5.

Series Masterlist || My Masterlist

TW: p in v, dirty talk, sub dom relationships, age gap, alcohol consumption, flirting, voyeurism, description of a threesome and other sexual acts, use of sex toys, nipple clamps, female orgasm, talks of neglectful parents during childhood and loss of a spouse. Mutual pining.

“Hnnng, fuck yes, daddy.” He’s rutting into you deeper than anyone else ever has. Long, slow strokes of his heavy cock sending you into a spiral of white hot, sparkling nirvana. 

“So fuckin’ wet n’ tight. Fuck, sweet girl.” His deep voice devours you - rattling around your skull, echoing slightly as if you’re in a large, empty room. 

Everything is black; darker than the onyx pits of his eyes. You’re not sure if you’re up or down, and you’re either blindfolded or have your face buried in a pillow as he fucks into you from behind. All you can feel is the pleasurable push and pull of his thick, vein lined cock slamming in and out of you. The vast darkness and the feeling of him filling you so full is overwhelming

“Please, daddy. Please. I’m so close.”

The soft mushroom head of his cock is kissing right where he taught you to crave it, and you wouldn’t be surprised if that spongy spot had ‘Property of Joel Miller’ branded on it by now. Within seconds of him pressing inside of you tonight you had completely submitted to him; surrendering to the darkness, the sensation, the exquisite pleasure. This is exactly where you were meant to be, and he’s the only one you’d want to be here with. It has never been this good, and even with your limited experience you know that it will probably never be this good with anyone else. 

“Don’t stop this time. Please don’t stop this time.” You’re an aching, crying, desperate crumb of yourself; wholly at his mercy.  

“No coming until I say.” His voice seems further away with every word and dread settles in your stomach as it all starts to fade.

“No! Nonono. Please no.” You feel a hot tear run down your face as the euphoria fades. You can barely feel or hear him anymore as little slits of yellow light appear. You blink once, twice. After a third long blink your bedroom comes into view.

Fuck. 

This has been the start of your new three part morning routine for the last few nights, since that kiss with Joel, since filling out your preferences and signing all the waivers. Since being asked to submit test results and proof of birth control. Since Joel Miller became your Dom. Night after night you dream of him fucking you, and night after night, right as you’re about to fall over the edge, he tells you not to come until he says and you wake up.

The second part of your morning routine is a lot more cathartic and vocal - very vocal. Your newly painted cotton candy pink nails (anything to stay distracted and busy) dig into the soft cotton of your pillow as you pull it out from behind your head, pressing it to your face and screaming until your throat feels raw.

Fuck.

When all the breath is pushed from your lungs, you put your pillow back and kick off the blanket. Your bare feet drag along the worn down carpet of your bedroom to the cold and cheap linoleum of your bathroom. You pee, avoiding your clit at all costs when you clean up. You know you’re down fucking bad when even the scratchy 1-ply toilet paper is enough to make you almost crumble. 

Part three of your new morning ritual is probably the part that shocks you the most. You change into leggings and a tank top, slipping a ten dollar bill and your house key into the side of your sports bra. The old springs of your mattress creak as you sit to slip on socks and your lavender colored runners, that you honestly forgot you owned until the morning after your twenty second birthday. You sneak out of your apartment, careful not to wake your roommate and jog down the stairs from your fourth floor suite to step into the cool March morning air.

Fuck. 

After shaking out each leg, you start to run. There’s no technique to your form or a planned out route. You leave your phone behind, only sounds are the morning traffic and your struggling breath to keep you company. It's just you, pushing your body to forget how badly you’re throbbing between your thighs and trying to erase the feeling of him. As you turn the corner at the end of your block you can see the bright green grass and leafy trees of the park. Your calf muscles burn with every step, but it’s not enough; you can still feel him. As you reach the park your lungs start to burn; they feel like they’re filling with fluid. Your ankles protest with every strike of your feet against the concrete. Finally, just as you swear you’re about to meet your maker it happens, the sweet release you’re pushing for. Finally every trace of the ghost of Joel Miller disappears. 

Your legs slow below you and you clutch your side, wandering lazily around the park. The rush of blood through your ears is nearly deafening, almost completely drowning out the chirping of the birds and the trickling of the water in the large stone fountain. You suck in quick, deep breaths, essentially doing everything and anything not to pass out. You’re free from him, if only for a little bit, as you fight against what feels like death knocking on your door. 

As you walk home you grab a coffee - black with just a splash of almond milk, apologizing to the barista as you hand her the sweaty ten dollar bill that was tucked into your bra and begin mentally scheduling your day. It’s Monday, which means you don’t work today and you can focus on studying and laundry. Your LSAT retake is just a few days away, today is your last full free day, and you have to get as much studying and practicing done as possible. The dread of taking that test again has your hot coffee doing flips in your stomach. Getting some college letters would really help put you at ease. You know you applied early but it would be nice to know if you need to continue to push or if you can finally rest. 

When you get back to your apartment your roommate has already left for her classes. You check your phone and your heart lurches in your chest at Joel’s name across your cracked lock screen. There’s been no contact between the two of you since Friday night. You slide open the text with shaky fingers

Good Morning, sweet girl. Are you ready to learn? 

You bite your lip as you respond. 

Yes, please, Mr Miller. 

You stare at the text thread for a while. Although you aren’t sure if a total of three texts can be considered a thread, but you stare anyway trying to will more messages into existence. After a few minutes you give up, locking your phone and stripping your bedsheets. The trek to the laundry in the building feels like it takes forever and you rush back to check your phone. There’s no response but you do have a little red bubble on your JMK app. You excitedly tap on the app to see a new menu titled ‘Dominant Preferences’ added at the top. When you click it, everything from your Reddit wormholes is revealed.

 ‘Joel Miller likes to participate in bondage play, nipple play, toy play, dirty talk, oral sex (both giving and receiving), and fingering. He doesn’t like brat taming, but is willing to participate in scenes where his submissive needs to be put in her place occasionally. He never has sexual intercourse - vaginal or anal, this is a hard limit for him and his submissives need to understand that there is zero room for negotiation on this matter. He’s very open to impact play, but believes that only good girls should get spankings.’

You click off the little ‘Read and Accepted’ box at the bottom without hesitation. As if he’s waiting for you to accept, he texts you seconds after your finger has made contact with the screen. 

8pm tomorrow. I’m sending a car for you. You should dress comfortably.

The same kind faced man from your birthday waits for you outside your apartment at 7:30 the next night. He opens the door, smiling gently at you as you hop in; leather and new car smell wafting around you. During the drive to the club you learn his name is Arthur, but my friends call me Cap. 

“Can I ask you a question, Cap?” You ask as downtown comes into view.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Do you drive all of Joel’s, umm, do you drive lots of women around for Joel?”

He chuckles knowingly from the driver's seat, glancing into the rearview mirror at you. “No ma’am. Joel is a pretty secretive man. I have driven him places when he’s alone, or I drive Tommy’s subs, but never Joels.”

You nod and look out the window. It’s just you, sweet girl, only you.

Cap rushes to open the door when he pulls up to JMKink. The club is in a different building than Joel’s office; that was in the tall building across the street. Three bright and expansive floors of that red stone faced building belonged to JM Inc. Assumingly, the home base for all the businesses he has his hands in. This building, however, is smaller amongst the tall skyscrapers of the Austin skyline. The entire building is coated in a shiny black chrome, from the steel framing to the windows, except for the golden JMK logo on the front door. You take a calming breath before heading up the steps, the blacked out glass door slides open automatically.

Your dark high heeled boots click on the black and honey flecked marble, the floor reminding you of Joel’s eyes. You wish the marble would suck you into it so you could live in that feeling you get when Joel looks at you. Where it might be seen as cold and intimidating to others, to you it feels warm and inviting, almost familiar, and that little box of feelings in the back of your mind stirs a little bit. 

He told you to dress comfortably tonight, and you felt most at ease in a deep green sweater dress and knee high heeled boots. The dress just barely skims your thighs, making your legs look long and toned. You could use a tan, but it’s only March, everyone in Texas could use a tan at this point. You left your hair down in loose curls and kept your makeup minimal, as always. 

There are three people in the small foyer. Two stunning women stand behind the hostesses desk in matching black dresses and collars. To the right of them stands a man who looks like he could kill you with his pinkie. He’s also dressed in all black, and stands in front of a large door. Everything here seems like it’s meant to intimidate but all you can see and feel is the safety that comes with knowing Joel Miller. 

One of the women looks up at you, smiling comfortingly and asks for your name. Before you can respond, Joel's honey lined voice answers her. The sound of your name on his tongue feels like taking a breath of fresh winter air. Goosebumps break out across your skin, your own breath leaping in your throat as you spin slowly to meet his gaze. There’s no other way to around it, Joel Miller is fucking exquisite. His slightly outgrown curls are pushed back, silver reflecting off his temples and throughout his beard. Tonight he’s wearing a deep midnight blue Tom Ford suit with one jacket button done up, underneath he’s wearing a crisp white t-shirt, paired with brown dress shoes and what you assume will be a matching belt. One of his hands is tucked in the pocket of pants that literally look like they weren’t made for him, the other hangs loose at his side and you catch that gold ring again.  

He doesn’t take his eyes off you as he speaks to everyone in the lobby, “You’re all to remember her name. She is my guest, my only guest, and as far as you’re all concerned she’s the most important person in this club. Understand?”

The little box of feelings lifts its lid a little. No, you say to the box, banishing it back to its dark corner.

A jumbled mess of ‘yes’ and ‘sorry’ fills the lobby but the only thing that’s clear to you is Joel as he wanders over, placing his hand on the small of your back, and leading you towards the large black door that the lethal looking man is guarding. As he pulls you into his side his voice quiets, his words a low growl meant only for you. “Hi, sweetheart.” When he sponges a soft kiss to your temple you press your lips together to stop the giggle that’s trying to burst out of you. Joel Miller makes you giddy in a way that you haven’t felt since you were much younger and saw a One Direction music video for the first time. 

This afternoon, you had your easily predicted moment of panic. As with every decision you’ve ever made, you started to think that this wasn’t the right one. Maybe Tommy was the safer choice. Maybe you’ve bit off more than you can chew, or girlbossed too close to the proverbial sun. Or in kink terms, flirted too closely with the St Andews Cross. But now, being here tucked tightly against Joel's side as he guides you into your first experience with the world of kink you couldn’t feel any more sure of your decision. 

You hold your breath as the shiny black marble door opens, this feels like one of those big climatic moments you see in the movies, like you know the main character's life is about to change, and a nervous excitement buzzes through your veins. As the club comes into view it’s nothing like you thought. For starters, there aren’t cages or naked people around, and at first glance it looks just like a lounge in a high end hotel or restaurant. JMKink is beautiful, breathtaking.

 Light pine flooring is set in a herringbone pattern across the entire club. Directly in front of you are a few tall tables and then, situated in the middle of the space, is a large black marble bar. The bartender is surrounded by a halo of soft chiffon light that casts down from a brushed gold chandelier. The tables and bar top have tealight candles on them, making the entire thing feel sensual and soft. It’s just dimly lit enough that you can’t see beyond the bar from here. Joel guides you gently to the right. The booths that line the wall are only illuminated by the flickering candle on the table. Three of the booths are roped off, guarded by a tank of a man in a black suit. As Joel leads you towards them, you notice each of those tables have a gold plated reserved sign along with a name; Joel, Tommy and Tess. 

Confusion swirls in your brain at the romantic feeling the club gives off. Part of you expected to walk into a sex dungeon or that red room that Christian took Anastasia to, but you definitely weren’t expecting this. If this place was just a bit brighter you could imagine studying here on weekends. 

This isn’t a sex club, there’s no way.

As you slide into the furthest booth you’re able to see a small stage on the back wall and empty dance floor looking area on the other side of the bar. You can feel Joel’s warm gaze on you as you look around with wide eyes. Right when you’re almost convinced that you interpreted the information you found on Reddit wrong, your eyes land on the far left side of the room.

No, now that you see if from this angle, you are indeed in a kink club; a well stocked kink club based on the entire sex shop in the corner. You feel your cheeks flush and you dart your eyes towards Joel, pushing at your cuticle under the table, smiling shyly at him.

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours?” His voice is syrupy and warm as two drinks land on the table. Whiskey neat for him and some sort of pink martini for you.

“Nothing..I just, it’s not what I expected,” you swallow the sand that’s found its way into your throat at seeing all those sex toys just out on display in the corner and flick your eyes towards your drink.

“That's a cosmopolitan. I can get you something else if you want, sweetheart. The female staff here seems to love them.”

“No, I should have said thank you. I’m sorry.” His hand comes to meet yours as it’s picking furiously at the non-existent skin of your nail bed. He wraps his hand tightly around yours, and brings them to rest on the top of the table together.

“Take a breath, sweet girl. You’re ok.” His words wrap around you tightly, calming you. You’re ok. Your heart rate slows and you relax into the plush velvet lined booth a little bit, smiling sheepishly up at Joel. “Better?”

“Yes, thank you.” Your free hand grabs the martini glass and you bring it to your nose, it smells like cranberry and lime.

As you take a small sip Joel says, “You really don’t have to drink it, baby girl. I can get you whatever.”

The vodka burns away any sand that remains in your throat. It’s tart, and dangerously delicious. You can see yourself getting very fucked up these with your girlfriends one day soon. “No, I like it. Thank you.”

After putting the glass safely on the table, Joel lets go of your hand, wraps his arm around your waist and slides you across the seat, pressing you to his side. “Is this ok?”

JOEL

His cock twitches at the little hum you make in agreement. You lift your leg closest to him and rest it over his under the table. He squeezes your side gently, sinking into the comfort of you and grabs his whiskey. “So if this isn’t what you thought, what were you expecting?”

He loves the way you blush a little before answering him. “People just, you know, it’s a sex club, so just having sex here.”

He lowers his head to yours and whispers just for you, “There are people having sex here, sweet girl.”

He laughs to himself as your eyes narrow and you look around at the other people in the bar. “Not out here, just because you’re in a sex club doesn’t mean you have to consent to seeing or hearing people fuck. Or to be having sex yourself, really.” He loves the way you look at him with surprise at his boldness. He cocks his head towards a guarded door between the stage and booths along the wall, “But behind that door - well, people are indulging as we speak.”

He watches the small shiver of your spine, pulling back to take a sip of his whiskey, allowing you time to look around and become comfortable in your surroundings. He watches your perfect lips part, finding himself jealous of the rim of the glass as you take another sip. Great, first spoons and now glasses. As he watches your neck work to liquid down he says, “So did you leave that little pussy alone like I asked?”

Your head whips to face him, he can’t quite place your facial expression. It’s a twisted  mix of fear, shyness and embarrassment, like you’re worried that someone may have heard him say pussy; but if you only knew the kinds of things happening in this club right now.

“What?” you ask shakily.

“Did you come? Or did you listen?”

“Umm…I,” he can tell that you’re flustered, and he finds you nearly irresistible like this.

“Are you nervous, sweet girl?”

He’s not sure if you realize it, but when you’re tense and he calls you by that nickname you relax a little. Your shoulders lower, the little crease in between your eyebrows softens. “No,” you say, and he’s not convinced.

Joel deepens his voice, a voice he only intends to use when you’re at the club together. Or when she’s in my bedroom. He pushes any thoughts of you outside of the confines of this space away, “Lesson number one, don’t lie to your Dom. We have to be able to trust each other.”

You look up at him through your lashes and it damn near kills him. You’re so beautiful, absolutely glowing against all the black in the room. The soft golden light bounces off of every little perfect piece of you; from the deep cupid's bow above your top lip, to the caramel highlights in your hair. He can tell by the long breath you suck in that you’re about to do that adorable thing where you ramble. “I’m nervous, but it’s an excited kind of nervous. And no, I didn’t…that thing.” 

He can’t fight the smile at your shyness, “Lesson number two, If you can’t say it then you shouldn’t be here. What thing, sweet girl?”

You close your eyes and say, “Come,” and then open your eyes to look at him again.��

So shy. So cute. I’m fucked, so very fucked, he thinks. He takes another pull of his whiskey if only to keep his hands and lips busy and to himself. He usually enjoys the burn but with you beside him it tastes sweeter.

As you bring your martini glass to your lips he commands, “One more time, this time look at me when you say it.”

Over your glass, sparkling eyes locked on him you mumble, “I didn’t come, Joel.”

“That reminds me. Lesson number three, as soon as we cross the threshold into my private room, you will refer to me as Mister Miller only. Out here, and anywhere else, I can be Joel, but in there,” he tilts his head towards a door on the other side of the stage, this one isn’t guarded, instead there’s a security pad that you need to have a microchip to unlock, “In there, I’m Mister Miller. Understand?”

He watches your throat again as you swallow, the palm of his hand tingles at the thought of wrapping his hand around it again. One of your eyebrows raises just a touch and he knows that cheeky little line of your lips. “Yes, Mister Miller.”

Your voice is husky as you say it and this time it’s him who has to fight the goosebumps rising on his skin and the icy shiver trailing down his spine. So perfect. 

“Can I ask you a question?” You don’t make eye contact with him when you say it, like you fear he might say no and he has a feeling that whoever made you feel that you needed to make plans A through Z also told you are a burden for asking questions. Joel isn’t a violent man, but would happily ring whoever’s neck did this to you.

“Of course, sweet girl.”

You turn to face him, taking a sip of your martini before you say, “Why did you send me into your basement that day?”

Joel clears his throat, weighing how transparent he wants to be in his answer, but there’s no hiding it after what he said to you in his office last week. “I’m not always going to be nice to you here, sweet girl. I’m going to push you, I might even hurt you. Yes, it’s all consensual, but I didn’t want you thinkin’ I’m some sort of monster.”

He watches as you take a long pull of the pink liquid from your glass. You set it back on the table, the earlier tremble of your hand gone as you reply, “Thank you for being honest with me. I don’t think I could ever see you as a monster, Mister Miller. I need this.”

The devious smile you give him has his cock come to life. He doesn’t fuck his subs, but he would take you right here in this booth if he could. “Would you like a tour of the club?”

Your eyes light up, “Can I bring my drink?”

“Anywhere out here, yes. But not behind those two doors.” He takes the last drink from his whiskey and then watches as you take two big gulps to finish your Cosmopolitan. Your nose crinkles at what he assumes is the burn of the vodka.

“So fuckin’ cute,” Joel says quietly, and hopefully just to himself, as he slides out of the booth.

No, you say to the little box of feelings when you overhear his whispered words, don’t start with me right now.

You follow him as he heads towards the store in the corner. Even with the condoms, dildos, plugs, gags, whips, lube and all sorts of other things on display it’s somehow still classy and beautiful. Lots of these things you’ve never seen before, or had any desire to play with, but you’re pretty sure you’d try almost anything with Joel. 

He nods at the man working the store counter and then walks you around the main area, his voice thick with passion as he speaks. “Usually on Friday and Saturday nights there's more of a nightclub feel, couples who like to swap partners can mingle with the room. This is a safe space, monogamous couples aren’t offended by the attention and everyone stays very respectful of others wishes and limits. There’s a drink limit of course, keeping things safe and consensual is my utmost priority.”  

You walk slowly, crossing the middle of the currently unoccupied dance floor, “That stage is often used for workshops or shows. This is a place to learn just as much as it’s a place to enjoy sex and kink. We have a new workshop coming up next week actually.”

The two of you stop beside the guarded door - the door Joel said people were indulging behind. You can’t help but be curious about what's happening back there, but you’re also desperately horny and unsure how you might react to whatever is unfolding in the dark. The man standing in front of the door is also dressed in a black suit, this seems to be the uniform of those who work at JM Kink, he says a cordial, “Good Evening, Joel.” Then nods at you and adds, “Miss.”

You jump as Joel’s hand connects with yours, his strong fingers linking with your slender ones. He spins you to face him. His freehand cups your chin, the band of his ring cold against your pink flushed skin. He tilts your face up to meet his, seriousness etched across his face. “My sweet girl, behind that door can be a bit intense at first. You’re an adult, but you shouldn’t have to see anything you don’t want to see. So you’re in charge in there. If you want to leave, we leave. If you want to cover your eyes, do it and I’ll lead you away. On the contrary, if you see something you like and want to get closer, then get closer. If you have questions, just ask. Ok?”

You nod, and Joel leads you through what you hope is the second life changing door of the night. The air feels different on this side of the threshold, something about it makes you feel like you’ve been plugged into a low voltage socket, you’re buzzing in an exciting and dangerous way. It’s dark enough in here that you can’t see your black boots as they click quietly against the hardwood. Joel's strong hand comes around your waist, tucking you into the side of his body protectively. After taking a deep breath, the familiar ash and leather scent of Joel intoxicating and calming your senses, you look up.

You and Joel stand intertwined at one end of a long rectangular room. Across from where you stand and down to your left and right the wall is lined with large windows. On the side of the hallway where you stand are plush chairs and couches, some of which are occupied by singles or couples as they watch what’s happening beyond the windows. 

You wonder if it gets easier, standing in a dark hall where you can watch people fucking. Joel is so calm, like a still glassy sea, meanwhile you are fighting against the tides. He stands almost statuesque, his thumb rubbing calming circles on your hip, while keeping you tucked safely into him. He has made it clear that you’re in charge here, so staying in the shadows as much as possible, you wander towards the first window. As if he’s another limb on your body, Joel follows you effortlessly. 

Your heart thumps in your chest as you approach the first window. The room has a large bed that remains untouched. A man is tied to a chair at the end of the bed with black silk ties, and you stifle a gasp at the painful looking device he has clamped around his hard cock. You can hear his whines through the ball gag, and the moans of pleasure from the woman spread eagle on the floor in front of him as she fucks herself with a large dildo.

Joel’s soft stubble brushes against your ear as he whispers, “We won’t be doing that.”

“Looks fun for me,” you giggle and he lightly pinches your hip.

The next window has the blinds drawn, little slits of light illuminating the edges is the only sign that someone is in the room. “You can choose to let people watch or not watch, as well as how much you want those in the voyeur area to hear when you rent the rooms,” Joel explains softly as you approach the next open window.

The bed in this room is occupied by three people. A curvy woman is lying down on her back, a copper skinned man with a shaved head has his face buried in her pussy while a fully tattoed beefcake of man fucks his ass. The look of pure pleasure on all their faces has your clit twitching and aching. And when Joel lowers himself to your ear the little hairs on the back of your neck stand up. 

“We also won’t be doing that,” Joel’s voice is so light and carefree. For a second you forget that any minute now he’s going to use that deep baritone voice to boss you around while you’re completely naked.

“Again, it also looks fun for me,” you joke, and a small smile crosses your lips as you feel Joel’s body shake with silent laughter beside yours. There’s about ten windows in this room from what you can see, most are closed or dark, probably since it’s a weekday. You lead the two of you down the room to the next open window. “Can they see us?”

“Not unless you get close to the glass,” he instructs. You stop in your tracks at the next window. Despite your teasing with Joel the last two were not your thing, but this window you could easily watch for a while. A man and a woman lay on the large red silk sheeted bed while hundreds of battery operated candles flicker around them. He’s on top of her, one of her legs slung over his shoulder, the other around his waist. As you step closer you can see a sparkly, thin layer of sweat coating both their bodies as they slowly grind together, kissing passionately. You take another step closer, if they want to be seen then it shouldn’t matter if they see you. Once you’re close enough you can hear the gentle moans she’s making as he thrusts slowly in and out of her. 

“Well,” you say softly, leaning into Joel’s side and looking up into his warm chocolate eyes, “That doesn’t look so bad.”

He cranes his neck and places a lingering kiss on your forehead and as your eyelids flutter closed you can no longer deny just how turned on you are. He pulls back to look at you, smiling slightly before saying, “When I first got here he had her hogtied and was paddling her.”

“Like I said,” you say while giggling softly, “That doesn’t look so bad.” 

The two of you watch them for a while as they fuck languidly. This should feel wrong, watching something so personal, but the beauty of them together like this is comforting and almost inviting. Her cries grow louder and as she starts to shake he pauses his hips, fully seated inside of her while whispering and smiling down at her, pushing her sweat soaked hair off her forehead. The love behind the glass is so palpable that you feel yourself getting choked up a little. 

Just as you’re about to ask Joel to take you to his room, you notice another window with about five people lined up along the glass. Curiosity gets the better of you and you lead Joel the few steps to see what’s going on. No longer feeling nervous or shy, you step right up to the glass. This time, Joel moves his body to be behind yours, pulling your back against his strong body. One of his arms wraps around your middle, the other sweeps your hair to one side and then rests gently on your shoulder. 

The set up of this room is similar to the others you’ve seen: a large bed to the right, a chair to the left, and a chest of drawers to the back. There’s a woman strapped face up on the bed, wrists and ankles bound to the four posts of the frame. Her perky breasts rise and fall rapidly with her breathing. At the back of the room, a broad tanned man faces away from you, looking through a drawer for something. As your eyes travel up his back from his hard, round ass cheeks he spins to face the window. You step back into Joel as Tommy Miller’s gaze flicks to the people along the window and then to the sub he’s chosen for the night. 

In your sane mind you tell yourself that you should look away. It's one thing to watch strangers but watching someone you sort of know feels like an invasion of their privacy. Plus, there’s no way Joel wants to see his brother like this. As if he can read your mind, Joel's lips brush against your neck, “I’m right here, sweet girl. Tommy likes an audience, he’s an exhibitionist, and lots of members come just to watch him.” 

You glance up at Joel and he smiles softly. Your voice is just above a whisper, “Can we watch for a bit?” 

“You’re in charge, sweetheart.” He patiently reminds you as you nod and look back towards the room.

The horny demon that seems to have taken over your body since catching Joel in his office has you dying to see more: more sex, more kink, more Tommy. Without consciously controlling it, your eyes travel down his tanned chest, to the hair around his belly button and then down to his fully erect cock. You can’t help but appreciate the beauty of his body, he looks like he’s carved out of stone, and that includes his cock. He’s decently long, but thick, a prominent vein running along one side of it. It’s slightly upturned and the head is smooth and glistening with precome. He looks so powerful and the small fire that’s been building in your stomach grows.  

You bite at your bottom lip nervously, crossing your arms to rest on top of the one Joel has wrapped around you. Tommy walks over to the bed; grasped in one of his large hands is a black vibrator, his other holds a small glass jar housing a lit candle. He climbs onto the bed, then drizzles hot wax along the woman's thighs. Her back arches off the bed and through the speakers along the glass you hear her pained moans. Tommy watches her intently, his lips moving but you can’t hear what he’s saying. Once she’s settled back on the bed, Tommy places the vibrator on her clit.

She writhes and pulls at the velvety cuffs holding her to the bed. “Sir, oh god, I’m - I’m gonna - Sir, fuck, I’m gonna come.”

When she calls him sir you see the dark flash of obsidian across his eyes, the same look when you called him that at the poker game. Through your research, you know that doms have preferred names and your cheeks flush a little at the thought of accidentally using his with him. 

Tommy pulls the vibrator away right before she falls over the edge and drizzles wax on her stomach. She cries out with more desperation this time, and then again, once she’s calm Tommy places the vibrator between her thighs. It’s suddenly hard to breathe and when you step back into Joel you feel his cock is hard against your back and a fresh wave of arousal coats the lace of your panties. 

Tommy takes the vibrator away as she starts shaking and moaning, then hot wax splashes down her sternum. You feel antsy, like little pins and needles are pricking along your entire body. You squeeze your thighs together, Joel's warm breath against your neck causes you to shudder. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” he hums.

“N-nothing.”

“You sure? You’re squirmin’.” His hand runs slowly down your arm, your hands moving on their own so he can wrap you in his muscle lined arms. A light kiss lands just below your ear and you bite back a moan.  

The combination of not being allowed to have an orgasm, the feeling of Joel’s warm body pressed against you, and the erotic scenes you’ve witnessed tonight is almost too much. It’s also not lost on you that that could have been you in there with Tommy right now. Your clit is throbbing between your legs, and you aren’t sure if you have ever been this turned on. 

Joel smiles into your skin as you watch Tommy tease his sub with the vibrator again, “Do you like what you’re seein’?”

You nod, trying to calm your breathing. It hitches as he adds, “Would you like to try that one day?”

Wax hits one of her nipples, the beads hardening along the peak of her perky, round breast. You adjust your stance to cross your legs together, squeezing hard to ease the almost painful ache at the apex of your thighs. Her and Tommy speak softly to one another, he smiles down at her, puts the candle down and then adjusts himself between her legs, spreading the lips of her puffy pussy with two fingers and putting the vibrator right where you know it would ruin you. 

“Would you?” Joel repeats.

“Yes, Mister Miller.” You say, your voice shaky, almost like it’s impossible to form words as you look up at him. He’s so beautiful in the shadowy light, his tanned skin almost seems to glow against the darkness.  

His eyes dance around your face, his voice comes out soft and sensual, quiet enough for just you to hear, “Do you want to go play now, sweet girl?”

You bite your cheek to try to fight the smile, but as Joel’s eyes flick to your lips it’s no use. A shy smile tugs at the corners of your soft pink lips. “Are you going to let me come?”

He looks at you the same way he did when you drank the water and ate that toast. Pride. He’s proud of you for asking for what you want, and you can almost feel your insecurity and fear around asking for things starting to shrink. 

The softness in his voice morphs into a growl, “If you’re a good girl.”

You spin your body towards him, determination lacing your face. “I can be your good girl, Mister Miller.”

Joel’s strong fingers link with yours and a quiet giggle passes your lips as he hauls you towards a door in the shadows close to where you two entered. Truthfully, if it wasn't for the little red light on the security pad, you wouldn’t have even known there was a door there. He waves his ring past the device and after a quiet beep sounds the light flashes green and the door clicks open. He pulls you through and as soon as Joel hears the final click of the door closing he hauls you over his shoulder. Your squeal at your world literally turning upside down with his brute strength melts into an aroused moan as his strong hands grasp the back of your bare thighs.

When Joel stops walking, you tear your eyes away from his perfectly sculpted ass, like these pants must be stuffed, there’s no way this man has a better ass than me. You glance up to see two other doors; assumingly belonging to Tommy and Tess. A familiar beep sounds in the quiet hall and your throat goes dry as he steps into his room. He takes a few long strides before sliding you down his muscle lined chest and placing you at the foot of the bed. He stays close, your breasts just barely grazing his warm body. Your gazes are locked, and even though you’ve grown comfortable with his intense need for eye contact your breathing still goes shaky and uneven. 

Oh fuck, this is it. 

His hand cradles your cheek, “You read and signed off on everything in the app, but I want to reiterate a few things, baby girl.”

You swallow hard, his finger now tracing down your throat and you swear you can feel every whorl of his fingertips as they trail along your soft skin. 

“From now on, you belong to me and I belong to you. No one else. You are not allowed to come unless I say.” 

His hand continues its road trip of your body, settling to wrap around the nape of your neck. “Y-Yes, Mister Miller.” 

“I have a no sex rule. I’ll give you orgasms, I’ll fuck you with my fingers and toys, even my tongue, but not my cock. I need you to understand that my rule is nothing against you, sweetheart. Are you ok with that?”

“Yes, sir, Mister Miller,” you coo. The nervous excitement from early has returned, every bit of skin that he’s touching is almost humming, butterflies with sharp wings scrape at your stomach. You bring your hands to the lapels of his expensive blue suit, fisting the soft fabric.  

“Fuuck,” he moans, “That sounds so pretty coming out of your mouth, sweet girl.” 

You smile up at him. He squeezes the back of your neck gently, his other hand cradling your chin between his thumb and forefinger. The rough pad of his thumb caresses your chin. “Nothin’ tonight that will require a safeword-”

“Stegosaurus,” you say eagerly, cutting him off. It’s silly really, but that little dinosaur on top of his coffee machine is what first intrigued you about the anonymous millionaire whose home had been assigned to you to clean. It also has some sort of meaning to him, so it seemed only natural for that to be your safeword. 

He smiles, laughing gently, “Not tonight, baby. If you want to stop tonight, just say so and I’ll stop. Ok?” 

Your pussy flutters at the unexpected moments to come, but a gnawing anxiety starts to claw at your chest. You’re not sure what causes the shift, but suddenly you go from excited nervous to just plain nervous. Am I ready to give up control? What if he sees me naked and doesn’t like it. He said it was only me, what if he regrets that decision? 

Your chest tightens, the knife-winged butterflies multiplying and traveling up your throat. Joel must sense a shift in you, he steps closer to you and softens his eyes as they dance around your face, a silent sign that he’s patiently waiting for you. If you said you wanted to go home you know he would kiss you softly and call your new friend Cap, but you don’t want that. You want this, you want whatever is about to happen; you just need to let go.

Vulnerability is thick in your voice as you break one of his rules and murmur, “J-Joel?” 

“What’s wrong, baby?” His voice waivers, making you feel a little bit better. 

“I’m nervous.” 

He lowers his head towards yours, running the tip of his hooked nose down the slender bridge of yours. You close your eyes and take him all in. He’s warm and hard, yet somehow so soft. His familiar ash and leather scent is mixed with the expensive whiskey he drank earlier. 

“So am I, sweet girl,” he whispers into your lips before kissing you softly. You melt into him, his hands moving to cup your face. His soft lips sponge against yours and everything quiets. You’re not sure how he does it, but kissing him feels like dunking your head under water, everything silences, all the nervousness dissipates. It’s just the two of you, floating in tandem in an endless void. 

He’s nervous too? Because of me? I make this strong, successful, brooding man nervous? Your inner voice of anxiety starts to settle. I’m safe here.

The comfort of your thoughts is enough to have you pulling yourself into Joel more. You increase the intensity of your kiss, turning your head and parting your lips slightly. He follows suit, running his soft tongue along yours. The air in the room has morphed, it’s saturated with passion and arousal. With just one kiss he’s managed to erase all your fears and worries, your mind is silent and ready for whatever instructions he’s going to give you. When he pulls away your both panting for breath.

He turns his back to you, sliding his dark blue suit jacket down, the white t-shirt underneath clinging with perfection to the muscle and sinew that pack on top of each other along his back. He drapes his jacket over a padded bench about five feet away from you; you know from your extensive research that that’s a spanking bench. He spins to face you, slipping his gold and black ring off his hand, keeping his eyes locked with yours as he drops it in a dish on top of a low chest of drawers on his left. You can’t describe it, but the sound of the gold clashing with the ceramic dish puts you in a trance. Like a ritualistic symbol that you are his now.

His hands slip into his pockets, his voice taking on its deep dominant tone, “We are going to start now. You can stay fully clothed or you can get as undressed as you feel comfortable being. I’m serious here, sweet girl. Leave on as little or as much as you want. When you’re done, lay face up on the bed.”

Without thinking your hands fly back to the zipper on your boots, you unzip them and toe them off. You don’t break eye contact as you grab the hem of your sweater dress and pull it up and over your body. As your vision is temporarily blocked by the knitted fabric you can feel his eyes on your bare skin. You’re left in just a matching nude bra and panty set. He’s already seen your tits so you don’t hesitate to unclasp your bra and let it fall away from your body. 

Joel swallows hard and licks his lips. “Beautiful,” he mumbles appreciatively and it coats your skin in warmth. 

You hesitate for a moment with your thumbs hooked in the waistband of your panties. You know they’re soaked through, and you’re sure he can see that from where he’s standing. He’s so fucking good at reading you, so you’re not surprised when he says, “Only take off what you feel comfortable with, my sweet girl.” 

“I do…I am…I w-want to…I just,” you fiddle with the band a bit. 

“You can say it.” He nods encouragingly.

“I like having them taken off me. I - I want to see your face up close when you…when you see it for the first time.” 

Joel smirks, popping his hip out to lean on the spanking bench. “See what the first time?” 

“Don’t make me say it, Mister Miller.” 

He clicks his tongue at you, “Mmm, but I love hearing that pretty little mouth say dirty words.” You stay silent, chewing your cheek as he continues. “Come on…say it. Say, I want to see your face up close when you see my cunt for the first time, Mister Miller.”

You feel your cheeks flush. Earlier tonight he asked you to look at him when you say it, so you roll your shoulders back and hold your head high. As confidently as possible you say, “I want to see your face up close when..” you take a shaky inhale, “When you see my cunt for the first time, Mister Miller.” 

Before the last syllable has left your lips he’s across the room, lifting you off the ground by the back of your thighs. You instinctively wrap your legs around him and gasp at the sudden pressure right where you’re aching for him. 

“I have memorized every answer from your preferences,” he growls into your collar bone, walking you around the bed. “I have strategically planned what I’m going to teach you and then you say stuff like that and fuck. I have to fight every sick and twisted thought I have, sweet girl.” He climbs onto the bed, laying you down just how he wants you, “You have no idea what you do to me. How out of control you make me feel.” 

Joel shuffles his body down, kissing down your sternum before cupping your tits. Pushing them together and sucking one of your nipples into his hot mouth. This is exactly what you’ve been fantasizing about since that moment in his office. His tongue is warm and soft as it flicks across your hardening nipple. He lightly rolls the other one between his fingers.  

“Please - oh god - please Mister Miller.” You moan needily. You try to arch into him, but his large body holds you down. 

He grazes his teeth along your nipple then looks up at you, “I’m gonna take care of you. Just relax.” 

You can’t take your eyes off him as he dives back in. Sucking and biting at your other nipple. You plant your feet on the mattress, hands tangling into his hair, as you try to grind your aching clit into his warm, hard stomach. 

“Stay still sweetheart,” He says between suckles. 

“I c-can’t. Please.”

He pinches both nipples hard, harder than you’re used to, and you whimper, freezing your hips. His voice is as deep as the obsidian in his gaze, “Stay still. I’m going to make you come. I promise. You need to trust me, relax.” 

The pressure on your nipples eases and you pout before letting yourself melt back into the mattress. He smirks, a dimple carving itself in the patchy scruff of his cheek. “That’s my girl. You like your nipples being played with?” 

The pad of his thumb ghosts over the tops of them, you shiver and moan, “Uh-huh.”

“Good. Then you’re going to enjoy what I have planned tonight.” He kisses your forehead and then climbs off the bed. You rise on your elbows, watching him as he pads across the room to a chest of drawers. He toes off his brown dress shoes and removes his belt before digging through a drawer. The actions were so simple, yet the domesticity of them has you fighting with your little box of feelings again.

No, you tell it silently as it inches out of the darkness. I am his sub and nothing more. The box seems to have grown a very annoying and persistent personality and it almost says, ‘but he’s nervous too’ back at you. 

He turns back to face you, snapping you out of your fight with the imaginary box in your brain. The same vibrator Tommy had is clasped in one hand, his other is palm up, cupping something that he’s shaking much like a gambler does with dice. 

“My sweet girl, you put a five for nipple clamps. Remind me, have you ever used them before?”

“No, Mister Miller.” 

He wanders lazily back over to the bed, and if he was anyone else you’d tell him to hurry up, but you never want to rush a single moment with Joel Miller. On top of that, you need to let him take control; he said he was going to make you come if you just relax and trust him, so that’s exactly what you’re going to do. He places the vibrator on the small table beside the bed and then sits beside you, holding out his free hand to help you sit up. 

He holds the clamps out to you and explains softly, “These are beginner clamps. See this little dial? I can control how tight they are.”

You watch his thick fingers along the dainty metal of the clamps, he’s so soft yet could have you crying with the snap of his fingers if he wanted. A fresh wave of arousal floods between your thighs completely ruining the panties he still hasn’t taken off your body. You nod and whisper, “Ok.”

“You control what happens here tonight. If you tell me that it hurts too much or to stop, I will.”

It’s time to show Joel just how good of a girl you can be, you look at him through your eyelash and sweetly coo, “Yes, Mister Miller.” 

A deep growl rumbles in his chest, “Fuck. Lay down..now.” 

You lay back, hair fanning around you. Joel stays seated on the edge of the bed beside you and lightly places the first clamp on your right nipple. It’s a light pinching pressure and it feels so good that your eyes flutter shut and you melt into the bed. He puts the next clamp on and you whimper. 

“How’s that feel?” he asks, his strong hands gripping your hips, pushing you into the mattress and grounding you in the warm pleasure that floods your stiff nipples.  

“S-so good Mister Miller,” you groan. You’re almost convinced this is another dream, he’s doing almost exactly what you have imagined countless times. You open your eyes to watch him, determined to visually take in every single thing he gives you. 

“Good, baby. I want you to feel good. I’m gonna tighten them now, jus’ a little.” He twists the little knob. You start breathing heavily, teetering on the edge of pain and pleasure. You bring your hands to his strong, warm forearms as you suck in air.

“Too much?”

Your chest heaves at the delicious feeling flooding your tits. “No, no. More. P-Please, more. More.”

“Good girl,” he hums deeply, the words settling right behind your clit as he tightens the tiny clamps more. The warmth around your nipples spreads to your arms and down your sides. When you cry out he asks, “Pain or pleasure, sweet girl?”

At this point you aren’t sure, it definitely hurts, but it also feels good, and his deep brown eyes are looking at you the same way they always do, full of concern and care, almost like he’s assessing you. 

“Both. Both, oh fuck. More, Mister Miller.” He kisses the left one gently and you arch into him, “More, more, please.”

“That’s as tight as they go, are you sure you want more?”

You keep your eyes on him, nodding fervently, “Yes. Please, yes.”

He pops them off and you gasp out in pain, heat rushes to both your nipples and it burns in white hot passion. Joel blows cool air along both of them and you can’t seem to stop your mumbling begging, “More. I need more. Please!”

“I know, baby. I got you.” He opens the drawer on the bedside table and takes out two gold plated clamps. You look down, your nipples already look sore, tinged slightly purple. “I’m so fucking proud of you already. Askin’ so nicely like the good girl I know you are. Goddamn, look at these stiff, perky, perfect little nipples. I love seeing you like this, seeing them like this. Are you wet for me? Are those flimsy lace panties soaked through?”

He places one of the new clamps and you cry out a ‘yes’. 

“Ya? Just dripping and desperate for me?” He puts the other clamp on as you chant a chorus of yes’s and oh god’s. 

Joel

Joel knew that tonight would either make or break him. As his name spills sweetly from your perfect pouty lips he feels it, the same tug behind his belly button that he felt with Tiffany, that his grandpa said was how he’d know when he found something special; something to hold onto. 

“Please, Mister Miller,” you murmur. He doesn’t know what it is you’re asking for, and he’s sure you don’t know either. What is it about you saying those three little words that gets him so rattled? Countless subs have called him that in the past and it never made his cock swell this painfully behind his zipper.

He taps at your nipples lightly and watches your body shudder and arch off the bed. You aren’t even fully naked and he’s fighting the urge to come right there in his pants. He loves the way your body reacts, he can already tell you’re going to look stunning as you come. 

“That feel good?” He asks, his voice deep and husky. 

“Yes. Oh god, yes!” You haven’t taken your eyes off him and he loves how your eyelids have become hooded from the pleasure while your brows furrow with the pain.

“Does it hurt?” Your cheeks are flushed pink making the colour of your eyes pop.

“Yes,” just as he’s convincing himself to remove the clamps you moan, “Please don’t stop.” 

Joel grabs the vibrator from the bedside table before sliding his body down the bed. He starts kissing at your hip bone before wrapping his teeth around the slender band of your panties. Your eyes dart down to him, this is what you asked for; to his face the first time he sees your cunt. He pulls your panties with his teeth, smiling against your soft upper thigh when you instinctively lift your hips to help him. As he shimmies down the bed his eyes stay on your face.

He gets to the end of the bed, standing with your soaked through thong still between his teeth. He relaxes his jaw, dropping the panties in his hand and bringing them to his face. “God fuckin’ damn, sweet girl. You smell so fuckin’ sweet. Imma crave that smell when you aren’t around.” He tucks your panties into the pocket of his four thousand dollar, custom made Tom Ford suit. As far as he’s concerned, that drenched thong is the most expensive and important thing he now owns. 

He trails his eyes down your sternum, your legs are straight out in front of you, not parted, but he can see your puffy pink clit pushing through the soft looking outer lips. He feels himself switching into full dom mode. The room around him fades away, everything outside of you and this room doesn’t matter anymore.

“Show me,” he growls. “Spread those gorgeous legs and show me that perfect little cunt.”

He crawls up the bed, following the path you make as you bend both knees up. He feels like a starved dog who’s about to get a meal. Your feet stop, and as he hovers above you, gaze wholly fixated on your core, you relax your legs and your knees butterfly open. God he loves how eager you are, how good of a listener you can be. He licks his lips as your outer thighs finally meet the soft sheets, baring yourself for him completely. He stops breathing as your lips part, sticky with arousal. Your pussy is swollen and glistening, your needy clit puffy and pink. 

A deep moan rumbles in his chest as he lowers himself to the be, his face between your legs. Once he’s close enough he can see the tight little hole he’s vowed not to fuck. “Shit, sweetheart. This is goin’ to be so much harder than I thought.”

Your cries wash over him; he’s experienced enough to know that it’s from your nipples hardening under the clamps at his words. He smirks up at you, “How are you so wet already?”

“You, Mister Miller.”

“That right? Me playin’ with those nipples get you all turned on?”

“Uh-huh, and you said I couldn’t touch myself. I’ve been like this for days.” Your bottom lip pokes out and it absolutely ruins him, but he pushes down the overwhelming need to fix it and give you exactly what you need. No, you want to experience being a submissive, and that’s what he’s going to do. 

“Poor baby,” he mocks, tsking at you. He kisses right above your clit and you gasp. He’s close enough to know the heat of his breath is going to have you squirming and he can’t wait to watch how beautiful you’ll look doing it. “So wet. Smells so good. Fuck, She’s right in front of me but I already miss her. You look so soft and tight. Goddamn, you’re gonna have me breakin’ all my rules, sweet girl.”

“Please touch me. Please.”

“Mmmm, such a good girl for asking so nicely. I can’t say no when you beg like that, baby, makes me weak.” He kisses the crook of your inner thigh, he knows how much he’s teasing you right now, he watches you get wetter by the second, the beautiful folds of your pussy opening like a flower in the sun for him and flushing a deeper pink and the blood courses to your most sensitive parts.  

“I need you Mister Miller,” your voice waivers as you say his name, and you blink a little harder, he knows you’re fighting back the tears and it makes his cock throb harder, the teeth of his zipper practically digging into him.

After what feels like hours, he finally brings a thick finger to tease at your entrance. You buck into him, desperate for the friction.  

“Don’t make me tie you up. Stay still for me, please.” Even with the please at the end, it’s a command - deep and serious, and you don’t dare test him. Your nipples stiffen every time he speaks, and they ache under the clamps, it’s the perfect twinge of pain to heighten the bits of pleasure he’s giving you. 

You press your lips in a tight line, hands grounding you as they ball the sheets, focusing on keeping still. You want to shamelessly fuck yourself with his fingers; meanwhile, he’s being slow and calculated. Joel torturously draws slow little circles along the waiting hole with just the tip of his finger. He watches as your sticky white arousal coats his fingertip, then groans as he slowly pushes his middle finger all the way inside of you. You gasp at the welcome stretch and fight like hell to stay still.

“Look at you, fuck. So warm and inviting.” He slips his finger out slowly and lets out an exasperated sigh. Your heart falls into your stomach.

“Mister Miller, no. Please, it felt so good,” you practically cry at the loss at the feeling of him finally inside of you, finally giving you a taste of what you need the most.

“I know,” he shushes, “But that’s not what I have planned, not yet at least. My sweet girl, I need ya to be loud for me. I’ve been wanting this for so long. Need to hear you. Understand?”

The distinct sound of the vibrator you forgot he had comes to life and you squirm with anticipation. “Yes, Mister Miller. I will, just please, please make me feel good.” 

He reaches up, the black vibrator makes contact with your nipple and an intense pain shoots to your core before it blooms into pleasure. One of your hands leaves the sheets, fingernails digging into the forearms of the hand he has holding the vibrator and you sob out. 

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” he groans before moving the vibrator to the other nipple, circling it around this time instead of holding it flush. “Jus’ tell me if you need me to stop.”

“Don’t, please don’t. Oh god, yes.” You know you’re screaming, you doubt anyone can hear you, but at this point you don’t care if they can. The pleasure becomes overwhelming, you slam your eyes shut and arch your back. Joel’s strong chest is warm in between your thighs, he’s so broad that he’s keeping you spread open. You grind into the soft white cotton of his t-shirt.

“Look at me. Focus, sweet girl,” you peel your eyes open to meet his gaze. Warm coffee and hazel eyes stare down at you. “Stay still, please.”

“I can’t - aah!” He presses hard on your sore nipple and it brings you back into your own body. You manage to still your hips and release your grip, leaving behind little crescent shaped indents in his muscle lined forearm.

“Good girl,” he praises and then pulls the vibrator away from your breasts. His free hand comes to your mound, he swallows hard before breaking eye contact, pulling his hand back and looking at your puffy, and completely exposed bundle of nerves. A devious uptick of the right side of the mouth sets your blood on fire before he taps lightly at your clit once with the soft head of vibrator.

You cry out in pleasure. 

He taps again and you gasp out loudly.

He taps a third time and you’re almost certain that this is how you’re going to die. No man has ever teased you like this. You’re desperate to come, your body breaking out in sweat, but you never want Joel to stop. Moans and whines are pouring out of you without you even realizing it, he looks so fucking beautiful between your thighs, staring at your pussy like it’s the sunrise over the ocean, like he’s never seen anything as beautiful or fascinating and it makes your feel unstoppable. You make him look like that. Him. A man who could have anyone in the world, but here he is, looking at you like you’re his whole world.

“Let me hear you, show me how you can be a good girl,” he clicks the vibrator up and holds it tightly to your clit. The sensation is almost too much and your nipples ache under the little gold clamps.

Your body starts to shake involuntarily and your moans become longer and huskier, you’re going to come any second now. You squeeze your eyes shut and Joel pulls the vibrator away.

“No,” you gasp. “More. Please, I need more. Please.” The fear of him leaving you like this has the back of your eyes burning. Was there a time limit you weren’t aware of with the room? No, this is his private room. Right? Didn’t he say that he has a private room? And it shouldn’t matter if the club is open or closed, he’s the owner.

“Look at me, sweetheart.” You blink your eyes open, trying to focus on his face, but you’re so turned on that the edges of him seem fuzzy. “That feel good? The vibrator teasing your desperately swollen clit?”

You nod your head, “Yes, again. Please, Mister Miller.”

“Tell me what you want?”

Historically, situations like this have riddled you with insecurity. You’ve never been a talker in the bedroom and as a textbook people pleaser you never, like NEVER, ask for what you want. Yes, being here fully naked with a fully clothed Joel makes you feel safer and more understood than you have ever been. You know that if you ask for anything in this room and beyond, he’d do it. 

The words leave your mouth without you even thinking about it, without second guessing or carefully planning what it is you’re going to say. “Please make me come. I’ll be so loud for you. I’ll scream and moan until I have no voice. I’ve been such a good girl and I’ll do whatever you want. Just please, please make me come.”

He raises an eyebrow at you and his voice washes over you like honey, “Good fuckin’ girl. Eyes on me and hold on.”

It happens in an instant, the vibrator flicks to the highest setting as he adjusts his body to hold you firmly against the mattress with this forearm, your hands grab onto his shoulders as he presses the soft, thick head of the sex toy right onto your clit. 

You scream and squeeze at the strong muscles of his shoulders as wave after wave of pleasure courses through your system, you tense under his touch. The build of your orgasm somehow too much and not enough all at once.

“Oh god. Oh god. Yes, I’m - Mist - fuuuck.”

“I know, I’m right here.” He says darkly.

“Gonna come,” you sputter between your cries of ecstasy. You can feel that familiar tightness building.

“Relax and let go for me. Come for me, sweet girl. Let me see this beautiful little cunt twitch.”

His words send you over the edge and your orgasm rocks through you violently. You convulse with so much force that Joel grunts as he holds you down. You’re nothing but what Joel is giving you, not a single thought or insecurity, not a single worry about studying or school, you’re just what Joel has made you and it feels fucking fantastic. His dark onyx eyes swallow you whole. 

The pleasure of your orgasm, mixed with the pain in your nipples is so much more than you’ve ever known, and Joel’s deep gravel filled voice praises you the whole time.

‘There’s my girl.’

‘Sooo good for me.’

‘Fuck, that’s it my sweet girl.’ 

‘Beautiful when you scream for me.’

It starts to become too much. Your throat is hoarse from screaming. As your nails start to dig deep into his shoulders Joel slows the vibrator down and holds it lightly to your twitching clit as the aftershocks course through you. He releases your body from his and kisses your hip bone before shutting the vibrator off completely. 

He’s stills between your thighs, your hands resting on his shoulders. Joel smiles up at you sweetly and you pull at his t shirt to encourage him to crawl on top of you. He doesn’t hesitate, bringing his stong body on top of yours, resting his forearms on each side of your head. 

“Do I have your consent to kiss you?” He whispers.

“Yes,” you coo. His mouth meets yours similar to how it did when you both confessed to being nervous. It’s soft and lingering as you take shaky, calming breaths through your nose. That annoying little box of feelings shivers in the corner of your mind and you mentally put a piece of packing tape over the lid. 

You end this kiss this time, pushing your head into the pillow. “I’m gonna grab some cooling spray and take those clamps off now, is that okay?”

You nod and hum in agreement. Your eyelids and muscles feel heavy and sated. Joel's warm body parts from yours and a chill runs up your spine. When he releases the first clamp you whimper, the burning ache goes away as soon as he sprays it with a cooling coconut scented mist. When he removes the second one, your pussy clenches around nothing, a small but powerful orgasm waves through you as the cool droplets of the aftercare spray land on your pebbled breast.

“Did you just come?” Joel questions proudly.

Your hands cover your face as you blush harder than you have in years, “Yeah.”

Joel’s warmth encompasses you again as he climbs back on top of you, he gently pulls your hands away by your wrists. “Fuck, baby. I think I’m addicted to you.” He kisses the tip of your nose, “Such a good girl.”

You shiver underneath him and he rolls the two of you so he can wrap the blanket around you, your head rests on his chest, your body half on him and half on the soft bed. He holds you tightly, his meaty hands rubbing any place they can over the fluffy down filled cocoon he’s got you in. 

A comfortable silence falls around the two of you, your breaths in sync with one another. Your eyelids flutter closed, and that little voice starts to come back, lacing you with insecurity. You don’t want to ask, but you have to. You clear your throat quietly and ask, “Are you seeing any other subs?”

“No,” he replies softly, his lips brushing the top of your head. “But I haven’t told all of them yet. The dom/sub relationship is a delicate one. I can’t exactly just message them on the app that it’s over.”

You settle deeper into him. “What else do you have planned for us?”

You can hear the smile in his voice as he says, “I’m going to show you everything you want to know.”

A fire burns in your stomach, “When?”

Joel lets out a small laugh, then tilts your chin up, pulling back a little so he can look at you. “You’re so fucking cute when you’re eager. I have to go out of town tomorrow, but we’ll make sure to find time when I’m back this weekend.”

Him leaving is a bit of a blessing in disguise for you. “I take the LSAT again on Friday, so I guess this gives me lots of study time.”

He cranes his neck to sponge his lips to yours, the scruff of his mustache tickles a little and you giggle into his kiss. “How long have you owned the club?”

“Almost five years,” he replies.

You let an impressed hum, tucking your head into the crook of his neck as the two of you fall into a comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds are your mixed breathing and his calloused hand along the blanket. You remember all the times tonight that he called you ‘my sweet girl’ and you wonder if he’s feeling the same way you are, or if he’s so used to all of this that it’s just second nature to him. The packing tape on that fucking box starts to peels as if to say ‘he was nervous too and it’s only you’.

After a while Joel breaks the silence. “Becoming a lawyer is a pretty intense process. Your family must be really proud of you.”

“Umm, well, I actually don’t really know,” you say.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Joel says lightly and you know he means it. You know he would never push you to give him something you didn’t want to, he might push your sexual limits, but never your personal ones, and for whatever reason that almost makes it easier to tell him.

You roll onto your stomach and prop yourself up on your forearms on his chest. For a second you let your eyes look around the room. You were so focused on Joel earlier that you didn’t notice the rings and hooks along the black steel bed frame; or the paddles and ropes hanging on the wall next to a ladder and St Andrews Cross. In classic Joel fashion, everything is black and softly lit. Everything but the bed sheets which are plush and white. 

You take a deep breath, resting your chin on your hands, and start, “I don’t want pity for this, truthfully I’m grateful that this is my reality, but my parents had me when they were very young and they were both very selfish when I was growing up. Never abusive or anything, and not neglectful in a physical way, but emotionally I was left alone a lot. I realized early on that if I excelled in something they would show up, and for a long time that felt really fucking good. But as soon as I hit high school I realized they were showing up for themselves. They’d brag about me to other adults, but not actually congratulate me. They’d show up to honour roll ceremonies, but not with me or for me, it was so they could say I was their daughter. They didn’t help me get those grades, I did that on my own. And I’m still doing that on my own.”

Joel’s eyes soften, those two permanent lines between his eyebrows disappearing. “That explains so much, my sweet girl. I want you to know that I’m here for you.”

The tape on the box of feelings snaps as the lid flies off. Not now, you scold.

“I know, but honestly, I don’t really need anyone to take care of me. I’ve made it this far and I plan on making it the rest of the way the only way I know how.”

“Doesn’t that get lonely?” He asks.

“Doesn’t this?” you say gently, gesturing to the room.

“No,” he blinks at you a few times. “I was in my early twenties when my wife died. I needed to focus on raising Sarah, but I’m still an adult male with needs, so I found the world of BDSM and kink. It allowed me to get what I wanted, and what my partner wanted, without the attachment of a relationship.” His words are so real and honest and in just those few sentences you feel like you know Joel Miller more deeply than you know anyone else.

“My way doesn’t get lonely either,” you say with a smile, tucking your head back into his chest.

Joel

Your breathing is calm and heavy, it kills him that he’s going to have to wake you up. Usually his aftercare doesn’t involve opening up about his past like this. He’s not a monster, but he is very strict about keeping his kink life and his real life separate. Something about you though has him opening up about Tiffany and Sarah.

“Baby,” he whispers into the crown of your head, shaking you a little. “We can’t sleep here, I’m sorry.”

You blink up at him and his heart ceases at how beautiful you look all sleepy and supple. He finds himself unconsciously memorizing the little details of your face. Your lips are puffy from his kisses and you have a little mascara smudge under your eye. He thumbs the black make up away gently and says, “Let me help you get dressed and then Cap will take you home, ok?”

You nod lazily and he helps you gently roll off him. He stands and starts to gather your clothing. After a few minutes of looking around he huffs, “Where are your panties?”

A tiny giggle sounds from the cloud of white blankets, the sound shooting straight through his belly button, “Check your pockets.”

He laughs at himself, reaching into his pants pocket to pull out your lacy nude thong. He helps you sit up, “I’m keeping these, by the way.”

“Should I be expecting my panties to go missing every time?” You say jokingly as you take your bra from him and put it on. 

He nods and asks, “How are you feeling?”

“Good, really good actually,” After you put your bra on he pulls your dress over your head and then kneels to help you with your boots. “I - umm - I was hoping that this would help turn my brain off for a while and it did. I feel, I don’t know. Recharged almost?”

This is exactly why he loves kink, it’s an escape from the world for him and his sub. He kisses your knee and moves to the other boot. “Good, that’s what is supposed to happen.”

He pulls you to your feet and allows you to steady yourself before pulling you in for a hug. “Thank you for tonight,” he whispers. He hopes you know that he needs this as much as you do, how much this helps him clear his mind and reground himself.

After closing the door to the town car and sending you home he goes back into the club, waving for a whiskey and joining Tommy at the bar top.

“She was pretty,” Tommy says, clinking his glass against Joel’s.

“Yep,” he swirls the amber liquid in the cup.

“New?” Tommy asks.

“Yep,” Joel repeats and then sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I think I’m fucked, Tommy.”

Tommy puts his glass down and turns to face Joel, gripping his shoulder. “Are you ending it with all your other subs for this girl?”

Joel takes a long sip from his crystal highball glass. Repeating the only word he seems to know lately, “Yep.”

Tommy lets out a breath, “Shit. Ya, you’re definitely fucked.”

“Tiff told me to find someone who scares me. This fucking scares me, man.” Joel finishes off his whiskey, and even though there’s a drink limit, the glass is refilled before it’s even hit the table. “This is - I just - I ain’t felt like this in a long time.”

Tommy smiles at Joel, “I’m happy for ya, man. And look, as long as you aren’t keepin’ her panties then it’s probably not as bad as you think.” 

Joel pulls that nude thong from his pocket and puts it on the bar top as he finishes off his second glass of whiskey and then waves the bartender off, silently signaling that he’s done. 

“Shit, so you are fucked then?” Tommy laughs. 

“We didn’t,” Joel says defensively, brows pulling together.  

“I didn’t ask if you fucked. I said you are fucked.” Tommy shakes his head at his older brother. 

Joel runs a hand down his face and through his scruff. “Look, you gonna be ok this week while I’m in Paris?”

“Ya, me and Tess got it.” He claps Joel’s back roughly as he stands. “Safe travels, hey?”

Joel nods and waves over his head at his brother. He hasn’t fucked you or let you suck his cock yet and he’s already feeling all turned around. But god, the way your body twitched in response to him, the way you melt into his arms every time he kisses you. How brave and confident you were after overcoming the shyness of asking for what you want. He can’t wait to teach you more, but he’s going to have to find a way to not let whatever feelings he might be having get in the way. 

Next chapter

[mononijikayu]

multo — fushiguro megumi.

“Do I really seem that broken to you?” you asked, your voice tired, raw. “No, not at all.” he said. “You just seem like someone who’s still looking for the parts they lost.” And something about the way he said that. It was quiet. Almost all too knowing. That had made your heart twist. Because he was looking too. You could see it. And he’d been looking longer than you knew.

GENRE: alternate universe - grim reaper au;

WARNING/S: mythical beings and creatures, aged up megumi, heavy angst, romance, conflicted feelings, hurt/comfort, depression, memory loss, emotional distress, hurt, mourning, loneliness, pain, humor, guilt, pining, conflicted relationship, emotional distress, grief, past lives, reincarnation, character death, depiction of character death, depiction of grief, depiction of complicated relationship, depiction of panic attack, depiction of loneliness, mention of grief, mention of loneliness, grim reaper! megumi, grim reaper! reader;

WORD COUNT: 12k words

NOTE: multo being a prevalent song in the opm sphere right now, i cannot avoid it. and now here we are, a sequel to forg_tful. i think in some ways, this was bound to happen. there was so much more to tell. plus, this is an excuse to write for megumi. anyway, i hope you enjoy it!!! thanks to @areyna for beta reading for this one, as usual!!! i love you all <3

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if you want to, tip! <3

IT WAS HARD TO DEAL WITH THIS SITUATION, EVEN IF ITS HIS NORMAL. Yet he lived a life of conundrums, after all this time. He was always precise, he liked getting things figured out.

Still, many decades having come and gone, Fushiguro Megumi was still living a life where he didn’t know what to do when it came to you. You, who was the head of the Special Cases Division in the League of Grim Reapers. His subordinate. And he hated it.

You were always there. Not just around but completely and utterly present. Wholly, extraordinarily there. You were at every cursed site. You picked up every urgent late-night call.

Every blood-soaked step he took deeper into the mess of death and decay. Clipboard in hand. Voice like frost. With eyes that saw right through him.

He couldn’t remember a time before you. He wasn’t sure there was one. It wasn’t just the work. It wasn’t even the case. It was you. It was you who consumed his mind at every little mission that needed to be dealt with. It was you whom he couldn’t help but have a glance at. 

The way you tilted your head slightly when he spoke an order, like you were listening to more than his words. The way your beautiful gaze lingered just long enough to make him wonder if you knew. And in the silence of his dreams, you did.

You were always there, too. Just calmly standing in the dark.  Sometimes with blood on your hands. Sometimes with your hand in his. Sometimes you were there smiling back at him. Sometimes you weren’t even looking at him. He never asked what that meant. You never offered in each and every dream. That was the game you played with him.

He hated how you moved like you were made of secrets. How you never flinched when he got angry, or cold, or tired of pretending. How you could sit across from him in silence and make it feel louder than a battlefield.

Each and every time he found himself alone, Fushiguro Megumi was certain that this would be the moment. This would be the moment he’d finally sit down, let the silence devour him, and wish, with everything in him, that it would just stop. All of it. The cases. The ghosts. The dreams. You.

He didn’t know how many times he’d had that thought, curled up in a chair long past midnight, staring at reports he couldn’t bring himself to file. He wanted it to be over. He wanted to forget you.

You who was like a ghost haunting him in each and every dream, every waking flash of memory that made his chest ache and his fists clench. And he tried.

He approached the Head Office. He went in determined, carefully filing the paperwork. Sat across from officials who asked sterile questions in sterile rooms.They called it a memory severance. It was very clean cut. It was clinical. Most of all, it was final.

But it was Gojo Satoru who stopped him. Gojo, of all people. The one who teased him relentlessly, who rarely took anything seriously. He’d gone to him thinking maybe, just maybe he'd understand what he was going through.

Yet, he did not expect the reaction he got. If anything, it was not how it was supposed to go. He remembered the way Gojo had gone unusually quiet.

And he never got quiet, he was not the type to be like that. Megumi remembered the way he took off his sunglasses like something sacred was being spoken aloud.

"You’re really gonna go through with that?” he asked, almost softly.

Megumi said nothing in reply, still looking down on the floor.

Gojo Satoru merely looked at him, sighing heavily.

This was not something that was to be taken lightly, Megumi realized.

“Does she mean that much to you?” Gojo prodded gently.

Megumi’s jaw clenched. “No. That’s the problem.”

“Lying like that can hurt your head.” Gojo tilted his head, frowning just slightly. “Hm….maybe she means too much to you.”

Megumi swallowed hard. “I just… I can’t keep living like this. Every case, every report, every night, she’s there. I’m not even sure if I feel anything real anymore, or if it’s just....something left over from before. Some kind of cosmic echo I’m not strong enough to shut out.”

Gojo leaned forward, voice dropping into something serious—an oddity from him. “You do know what happens when you go through with it, right?”

“I forget her. That’s the point.”

“No, no.” Gojo said, voice tight. “It’s more than forgetting. You’ll break the bond.”

Megumi looked up. “Bond?”

Gojo exhaled, like this was something he’d hoped he’d never have to explain. “Yeah. You didn’t notice that’s why Yuuta doesn’t remember Rika?”

“Yuuta–senpai did that?” Megumi blinked.

“There’s a reason she’s still showing up for you and why Rika doesn’t for Yuuta. There’s a reason she’s tied to your missions, to your life, to your dreams.”

He paused. Then, quietly, he sighs. “You two have something akin to something ancient, well something deep and remarkable. It’s something older than the work, older than this system, older than me—hell, older than you.”

Megumi blinked, cold sweat prickling at the back of his neck. “You’re saying this is fate?”

“I’m saying it’s a thread no one can break, other than you and her.” Gojo said, gazing direct and unblinking. “And if you cut it, that’s it. There’s no finding her again. There’s no being together again. Not in this life. Not the next.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. He felt uncomfortable with those words. It felt unnatural, for him to not see you. Not knowing you. He didn’t want to not know you, in the next life or the life after that.

He was just exhausted. Exhausted from knowing that you were in this miserable life now, just like him. He could see it in the way you handled every soul you took.

Every broken, bloody case. He knew that this was the misery of seeing you slowly slip away from everything you used to be. He knew that it was just everything that wasn't supposed to be.

You were too pure for this. Too good. And here you were, getting your hands dirty in a way that felt like poison to him.You weren’t supposed to be like this.

You were never supposed to be bound by the same fate he was. You weren’t supposed to stand next to him, cold and hollow, covered in blood and the weight of unspoken burdens.

You used to laugh. You used to live. And now, Megumi could see the shadow of that light growing fainter, as if each passing day was pulling you further away from the person he remembered. The person he couldn’t forget. The person he couldn’t stop loving.

He wanted to turn back time. He wanted to do something, anything. Just so he could stop you from becoming this creature you were never meant to be. He didn’t want you here. Not like this. Not with him. And he didn’t want to remember you this way.

But no matter how many times he tried to look away, you always found your way back into his thoughts. Into his nightmares. And he couldn’t figure out why that was. He couldn’t figure out how to fix it.

Fushiguro Megumi tried to speak. He opened his mouth, his throat tight, but the words died on his tongue. Gojo’s voice, low and firm, sliced through the silence like a razor. “You’re going to forget her, Megumi.”

Megumi froze, the weight of those words anchoring him in place. Gojo Satoru was watching him carefully, bright blue eyes behind his sunglasses unreadable, but the seriousness in his tone was unmistakable.

“I can’t stress this enough to you, kid.” Gojo continued, his voice quieter now, almost soothing, like he was trying to make it easier. “This is not a one–time thing.”

Megumi felt the air in the room grow heavier, suffocating. He knew where this was going. He knew the real and bitter truth, but hearing it from Gojo’s mouth made it real. Made it truly and horribly final.

“You’ll break the bond. Forever.” Gojo whispered.

Megumi’s breath hitched. He could feel his heart drop in his chest, heavy like lead. “Stop.”

“Once you say you want to forget,” Gojo continued, his voice a soft warning now, “she’s gone for you.”

“I said stop!”

Gojo Satoru did in fact stop talking when he asked. He felt like he was going to be sick. He felt like he was going to hyperventilate. That word was sickening. Gone. Gone like she’d never been a part of his life. Gone like he had never fallen in love with you. Gone like a thread severed — unraveling and vanishing.

He would lose you, all of you, everything of you. Not just your presence, but the connection. The history he had with you. All the lives. All the memories. Everything. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t even think.

Gojo’s bright eyes softened for just a moment, like he understood. Like he knew what this was doing to him. But the damage was already done. The words were spoken. There was no taking them back.

And Megumi? He was caught between the agony of keeping you, keeping the connection, the pull, the ache in his chest and the horrifying reality that keeping you meant watching you fall further into this fate. This world. This curse.

“I don’t know if I can….I….” Megumi whispered, barely audible, to no one in particular. His voice was raw. “I don’t know if I want to forget.”

Gojo didn’t answer immediately. He just stood there, waiting. Watching. Finally, his voice was soft. “I know. I know.”

But was it? Was forgetting you really the answer? Or would it just be another lie? Another piece of him that would slip away, just like you were slipping from his reach? Would he really do this? Megumi couldn’t help but swallow the bile down his throat.

“It’s up to you, okay?” Gojo says in response to him. “I’m not here to judge you for choosing your peace of mind, if you do.”

Gojo turns to his desk and starts writing something on a small piece of paper. Megumi looks at him. Gojo pushes the paper into his space for him to take. Megumi slowly takes it. He looks at the information written on it in his boss’s neat handwriting. 

“Tell Shoko I said hi. She’ll go and help you.”

Megumi looked at the paper longer than he should have.

He nodded at him absent–mindedly and began walking away.

He doesn’t know what to do.

DESPITE IT ALL, THE PAPER DIDN’T MAKE ITSELF USEFUL. Fushiguro Megumi didn’t go through with the memory severance. Not that day. Not the next. Not even on his next day off. He just couldn’t find it in himself to go and actually make the appointment.

But he couldn’t sleep after that conversation.bEvery time he closed his eyes, he saw your face again. The faint light behind your gaze, the strange sadness in your smile. And every time he woke up, the ache in his chest felt deeper. Older. Like it belonged to someone who’d already lived through this once before.

He hated it. Hated not knowing what to do. He hated how you were everywhere and nowhere all at once. And more than anything — he hated not understanding everything about this. How did you even become a grim reaper? How did you even end up here?

You weren’t like the others. You weren’t even like him, a foolish young man who decided to be unfilial and kill his father to protect his sister.  You didn’t have the cold detachment most of them wore like armor. You weren’t bitter. You weren’t angry. You weren’t dead inside — you just looked like you’d forgotten how to be alive.

There was something off about it. Something is wrong. And he didn’t like it. He didn’t like this feeling. He didn’t like where this was heading in his head. He had to know. He had to understand how you came to be here.

So, he asked.

He caught Gojo Satoru on one of his rare, quieter days seated on the rooftop of a botanical garden, bright blue eyes hidden behind tinted lenses, spinning a lollipop between his fingers. Megumi furrowed his brows.

“I have a question for you.” Megumi said, tone low.

“And good afternoon to you, kid. Seriously, you didn’t even find the time to greet your elders. Do it again.”

“Good afternoon.”

“Much better—”

“I have a question.”

“Only one?” Gojo smirked, fixing his posture. “Getting lazy.”

“I don’t care about that either.”

“Well, that’s just rude.”

“Just answer the question I’m about to ask.”

Gojo sighed. “Alright, alright. What’s it about?”

“It’s about her.” Megumi said.

Gojo’s smile faded. He turned his head, just slightly. Listening. “Okay, but—”

“How did she become a grim reaper?” Megumi asked. “She doesn’t move like someone trained for this. I know she isn’t. Her past lives prove that. She reacts before she thinks. Like it’s muscle memory….like she’s done this before, just not… here. Not like this.”

Gojo was silent for a long time. The wind brushed past them.

Finally, he said, “That’s not up to me to question.”

Megumi frowned. “You know something. You always do. You’re my boss.”

“I always know something, that’s just part of my job.” Gojo said, half–smiling again. “Doesn’t mean I’m allowed to tell you.”

“I want to understand her.” The words came out before he could stop them. Quiet. Honest. Maybe even desperate. “I want to know. Please. You know how much this means to me.”

Gojo exhaled through his nose, slowly. Then: “She doesn’t remember.”

Megumi’s breath caught. “What?”

“Her memories of her past life… they’re gone. I know usually, you get it back once the office processes the paperwork, when you ask. But she…she doesn’t have it.” Gojo said, voice unusually gentle. “That’s the price of what she is. A Reaper that didn’t start off dead. She’s someone taken, not made. Someone chosen.”

“Chosen by who?”

Gojo looked at him. Really looked. “That’s the wrong question, kid.” he said. “The real one is—why her? Why did they all choose her?”

Megumi didn’t answer. 

He didn’t know how to.

Because how could he?

“She probably doesn’t even know why she keeps ending up next to you either. She may think it’s just because you’re her sector boss.” Gojo said. “Doesn’t know what her body’s reacting to. Doesn’t know why you make her so still. So quiet.”

Megumi clenched his jaw. His voice cracked before he could hide it. “Then how am I supposed to let her go?”

Gojo looked away, eyes hidden behind the gleam of glass and the slow, setting sun. “You’re not, I suppose.” he said. “You never were. We learn that the hard way.”

Gojo’s words hung in the air like smoke. You never were. It rang in Megumi’s ears long after the sun dipped beneath the edge of the world. Long after Gojo stood, patted him once on the shoulder, and walked away.

He didn’t follow him, he doesn’t know how to. Instead, he just sat there, with his jaw tight, his hands pressed against the concrete, staring at the empty horizon like it owed him something. Why her?

He didn’t know. He’d never known. But he felt it — in the marrow, in the breath, in the way you voice made his name sound like a memory.  You didn’t remember him. You didn’t remember anything. And still, you looked at him like she’d lost him before.

He hated it all, he just couldn’t help it. He hated how cruel it was. Because he wasn’t built for this kind of pain. The slow, relentless ache of watching someone you love exist beside you, and never with you. 

“Fucking hell.” Megumi whispered into the void, lowering his head onto his hands. “What do I do?”

COFFEE TASTED EVEN BITTER THAN BEFORE FOR THIS SHIFT. Two days later, you were back in the field with him. They didn’t even try to stagger the assignments anymore.

Maybe the office didn’t notice. Maybe it was intentional. Maybe the higher–ups in the main office had seen something in the threads of fate that neither of you had the clarity, or the courage to face.

The location was a run–down district just outside the city perimeter, a place with broken streetlights and water stains curling along the edges of old brick walls. It smelled like rust. Smoke. That strange metallic air before a storm.

It was another violent death. A girl this time. Sixteen. Gone too early, too fast. She’d died in the middle of a fight, unfortunately. The fists clenched, jaw locked, eyes wide with rage. And by the time the team got there… her soul was gone.

Not released. Not processed. Just gone. And that was dangerous. Because a soul left too long in that kind of pain alone, in that raw, fragmented fury, it didn’t stay soft.

It calcified. Morphed. Turned. And there will be no chance for rebirth. Only the certainty of misery, in purgatory or worse, disappears. And then, there will be nothing.

You crouched near the faded chalk outline, fingers pressed to the scorched concrete where the girl’s blood had pooled just days before. “The poor thing, really.”

“It’s a bad case.” Megumi mumbled under his breath.

“She didn’t even realize she died.” you murmured. “This kind… they don’t leave on their own. They get stuck. Trapped between the pulse and the silence.”

Fushiguro Megumi stood beside you, tense as he looked at the entirety.

He was watching the shadows like they could grow claws at any moment.

He was watching you too, when you weren’t looking.

“Her soul’s still in the district, by my estimates,” he said. “It hasn’t registered on any gates.”

“Then we’re running out of time, senpai.” you replied. “How long do we exactly have?”

He looks at his watch for a moment. “Before the sunrise. But that’s being too generous.”

You stood, brushing your coat back with a practiced flick, already walking toward the alley’s edge. “I can certainly do it in one hour.”

“That’s overconfidence in you, isn’t it?”

“Well, Reapers don’t get second chances, senpai.” you added, like you were reminding yourself more than him. “And lost souls don’t either.”

Fushiguro Megumi finds himself unable to say anything.

When he looked at your eyes again, there was no shine.

Perhaps that broke him more than the thought of a soul dying out.

Your hunt unfortunately started slow. But that was not your fault. Before and after dawn are the peak hours of souls, looking for the gates of the afterlife. That also means the influx of the Reapers all around the neighborhood is throwing you off. You couldn’t help but sigh. 

Perhaps the biggest hindrance spiritually is your boss, who couldn’t stop looking at you. His aura is overwhelming your senses. But you couldn’t say that to him.

You weren’t here to find yourself in the disciplinary ward, after all. Yet you were sure that even if you tried, you wouldn’t be able to say it to him. And you didn’t know why.

You moved through the backstreets with quiet precision. Two shadows in a city that had forgotten the names of the dead. You passed windows that hadn’t seen light in years. Fences curled with rust. Shoes on telephone wires, spinning like memories.

And then, there was a flicker. You could feel the heaviness of the cold air. It was static along your spine. You froze. So did Megumi. You couldn’t help but frown at the feeling. You hated moments like this. You knew that this wouldn’t be something good. 

“There, senpai.” you said under your breath. “Did you feel that?”

He nodded, eyes narrowing. “She’s close.”

You turned the corner into an abandoned courtyard. And there she was. The girl’s soul was standing dead center, arms wrapped around herself like a shield. Her skin was pale and cracking, edges fraying like her form was struggling to hold.

Her frigid eyes were wide and unblinking, locked somewhere between now and a moment she would never escape. A moment that would forever trap her, frozen in this misery.

“No, no—don’t come near me, please.” she hissed when you approached, voice warped by grief. “Don’t touch me!”

Her pain rolled off her in waves. It was thick, bitter, and raw. It made your chest ache. Your purse your lips in a flat line. “She’s starting to mutate.”

“No, she’s already halfway gone. She’s passed that.” Megumi said quietly beside you. “Another hour and she’s not coming back.”

“I can reach her, senpai. I think I can do something.” you murmured, stepping forward.

“Hey! You know you can’t. This is against protocol, she’s already progress to—”

“But I have got to try!” You tell him, determination in your eyes. “How else will we know if we don’t at least give it a shot?”

“Do you think I would risk my subordinate to harm? Are you that stupid?”

“Senpai—”

But something about her gaze caught you.

The way her eyes skipped past Megumi to rest only on you.

There was so much hatred in her eyes.

“I know you.” the soul whispered.

You stopped cold. “Huh?”

She took a step back. Then forward. Fingers twitching. “You don’t remember me.” she said, voice trembling. “But I know your face. I saw it before I died.”

Megumi’s voice was sharp, controlled. “She’s displacing. She’s too far gone, I told you! She’s confusing you with someone else!”

“No.” The soul looked between you both, eyes going glassy. “You’re the reason. You’re the one who saw me and didn’t stop it.”

The moment your hand stretched out, the air turned still. Not quiet at all, no. It was still. Like the world was holding its breath. Your coat stirred in the stagnant wind. The flickering edges of her soul glowed dimly, like embers under ash.

“Don’t move, [last name].” Megumi warned, voice low, blade still at the ready. “She’s past saving.”

You didn’t listen. You couldn’t. The way she looked at you. It wasn’t desperation anymore. It was recognition. Like some part of her soul saw you the way you really were.

Like whatever spark that lived in the heart of all things dying had seen your name written in its final seconds. You stepped closer. Your hand didn’t waver.

“I can help you.” you said, gently. “But you have to let me. I can’t reach you if you turn away now.”

But the black hollow in her chest pulsed. It was thick, violent, pulling outward like smoke curling from the inside of a burning house. She clutched her head, breathing fast. She started to scream over and over.

“I don’t want to forget—!” she screamed, staggering forward. “I was someone! I know I was someone!”

Her body jerked, the dark mass inside her twitching, warping. “I remember my mother’s voice! I remember the sound of the TV in the morning! I remember what it felt like when I thought someone might love me—”

Her hands curled into fists again.“—and now it’s all fading! It’s gone, it’s gone—”

And then, something cracked in her. It sounded like the first break in a dying tree, right before the whole thing crashes down. She lunged. Fast. Vicious. But not at you. At herself.

She reached into her own chest like she wanted to tear the rot out. Like if she could just find the memory, the warmth, the piece of herself she’d lost—she could make it stop.

And that was what did it. The darkness snapped free. Swallowed her whole. A burst of energy surged outward in a shockwave. You stumbled back, the weight of it slamming into your ribs like guilt made physical.

Megumi moved without hesitation, his arms braced in front of you, body between you and the explosion. “Move back!” he barked, but his voice was already too far.

The girl was no longer a girl. You knew that much, even with much denial. What stood before you was twisted. Bone-white limbs extended too far, mouth open in a scream that had no sound.

Her eyes were now massive voids, leaking black tears. Her sorrow had become a shape, deepening into something of a monstrosity. Her grief had become a weapon to wield against you. And still....still, you stood there, looking at her with pain in your heart. You took one shaky step forward.

“Please….” you whispered. “You don’t have to become this.”

But she was gone. Megumi knew it before you did. He shifted, blade raised. “This has to end, now.”

And your voice cracked as you reached for his wrist. “Wait—Senpai, don’t—”

His jaw clenched. But he didn’t move yet. “This is beyond the protocol, you know this! We have to–”

“Look at her, senpai!” you begged. “She’s scared. She’s just scared.”

“She’s not her anymore, [last name].” he snapped. “This thing? It’ll take you with it.”

“I know that!” you said. “But just—just give me one more second.”

Fushiguro Megumi’s grip faltered. Just barely. His blue–green eyes looking at you, trust blossoming in the corner of his eyes. You nodded at him, thankful. You turned back toward the girl and looked at the echo of her and stepped forward. 

The creature, at least what remained of her, was writhing now. Flickering between the memory of a girl and the monstrous thing her grief had carved from her. Her mouth opened again, distorted and shaking, but this time… this time she spoke.

"Please, please….." she rasped. The sound wasn’t from her throat. It was from her soul, raw and breaking. “I don’t want to stay like this. I don’t want to forget—but I don’t want to be like this either.”

You froze. That voice. That ache. It hit something deep in you. Deeper than instinct, deeper than memory. Something older. Something permanent. Your head started to hurt little by little. But you kept it together. You had to. 

“Then let me help you.” you said, stepping forward slowly.

Her body trembled, a broken silhouette against the rotting skyline. Her hands were shaking like she still didn’t know what they were for. Fists, weapons, or prayers. She reached for you with one, the other still clenched tight by her side.

“I don’t remember who I was, I….I don’t remember!” she whispered. “But I know I don’t want to hurt anyone. Not anymore. Please... just let me go.”

And something in you had clicked. That quiet place, deep down, where the echoes of the past lived. The place you didn’t have the key to. Suddenly, it didn’t matter if you remembered her, or if she remembered you. 

What mattered was that she was asking you. To free her. To end this. You took a breath, steadying your hand. Your reaper’s seal burned faintly across your palm. She didn’t flinch at the sight of it at all. She had all but accepted her fate.

The blink of morning dawn was starting to come little by little, the darkness of the night slowly swallowed up. This was not how you wanted it all to go. You didn’t want to lose another soul like this.

But this had to be done now. You had already broken protocol for this. You couldn’t bring yourself to make her suffer anymore than she already has. This is the only mercy she could get in the hands of heaven and hell.

“I’m sorry.” you said, voice low, trembling. “But I promise… this won’t be for nothing.”

You stepped close enough to touch her forehead with your fingers.

Her eyes fluttered shut. A single tear fell—black, then clear. “Thank you.” she whispered to you, her eyes shining with gratitude. “Thank you.”

And with that, light appeared as bright as the rising sun. It was ever so blinding and yet it was a silent light. A silent light that brings the deliverance of peace. You purse your lips as you watch it all. Her form dissolved like ash into sunrise, scattering upward. Gentle. Final. Not gone, but freed.

When the last of her vanished into the air, the wind returned. Soft. Barely there. You stood still, hand out, arm shaking. Fushiguro Megumi hadn’t said a word back as he sheathed his weapon back. He looks at you, concern casting down from the peripheral of his eye. 

When you turned back to him, he was staring at you like you’d split him in two. Like he was watching the exact moment your soul remembered how to ache. The morning sun finally hit the two of you. You took a breath. You opened your mouth for a moment, but nothing came out. 

“Are you alright?” Your subordinate asks you.

“I didn’t save her.” you said, quiet.

“You did. Don’t say that.” he answered. His voice was rough. “You just didn’t get to bring her to the gates. It’s okay.”

“But I…..”

“No, don’t think too much about it.” Megumi says as he gets closer to you. His figure towers over you. He looks at you with a softened gaze. “Please. You did what you could. You brought her peace. You saved her, okay?”

Your face contorted at his words. Suddenly, your brows were drawn, lips trembling, your shoulders pulled tight like your body didn’t know whether to collapse or run.

But the tears came anyway. They slid down your cheeks soundlessly, shameful and uncontrollable, like a crack in a dam that had held too long.

“I just—” Your voice faltered, hoarse. “I just wanted her to feel safe.”

Fushiguro Megumi stepped in without hesitation. Not with words. Not with orders. Just warmth. Just him. He reached out, careful and steady, and his hand came to rest against the back of your neck. 

It was gentle. Too gentle, like he was holding something precious to him. Yet it was the very thing that was grounding you. His other arm wrapped around you like a shield. A quiet one. Something steady enough to hold grief without needing to fix it.

“You gave her that, okay?” he murmured. His voice was low now, close to your ear, the kind of softness he didn’t show anyone else. “She left remembering that someone heard her. That someone stayed.”

Your fists curled into his coat. Your forehead dropped to his chest. He didn’t move an inch. He didn’t even pull back. Instead, he stayed there with you. He let his warmth envelope you when you needed it. He just held you there, close and certain as the sun kissed your skin even more.

“She was just a kid, senpai.” you whispered, your breath hitching.

“I know.”

“She was alone. I was alone. If you hadn’t been here—”

“I am here.” he said, more firm this time. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Your breath shook again, and then again, until it steadied. Just enough. 

Megumi’s hand brushed the back of your head slowly, his touch almost reverent. “You don’t have to carry it all, [last name].” he added. “Not alone.”

You stayed like that for a long time. Long enough for the blood on the pavement to dry. Long enough for the light to shift between buildings.

Long enough for the ache to settle instead of sharpen. Eventually, you pulled back just slightly, just enough to see his face. His jaw was tight. His eyes hadn’t left you for even a second.

“Do I really seem that broken to you?” you asked, your voice tired, raw.

“No, not at all.” he said. “You just seem like someone who’s still looking for the parts they lost.”

And something about the way he said that. It was quiet. Almost all too knowing. That had made your heart twist. Because he was looking too. You could see it. And he’d been looking longer than you knew.

For a moment, you felt the weariness of it all come to you. You were just standing there in the alley, your shoulders slack, your eyes red and all the sudden a little too distant for someone who just found their job done well.

The morning light caught on your uniform, smearing silver against the black. And for the first time since arriving, you didn’t look like the head of the Special Cases department. You just looked…tired. Almost so small. All too far away.

Megumi said nothing. Just stood there, quiet across from you, waiting like he always did. Because he knew better than to fill that kind of silence. The kind where memories try to surface but never make it to shore.

You take out a cigarette from your coat and bring a cigarette to your lips. Lit it with a snap of your fingers. Inhaled. Exhaled. The smoke curled around your face like something trying to stay. Then, finally, you turned to him. 

Your eyes were strange. Not confused. Not pained. Just old. Like something from another lifetime had turned over in your chest and was watching him from behind your lashes. For a moment, it didn’t even look like you were having a bad migraine.

“Do you believe in déjà vu?” you asked, voice low, almost idle.

He blinked, startled. “…What?”

You glanced up at the sky. Smoke slid from between your teeth. “It’s just a thought, from observation.”

“.....What brought this on?”

“Sometimes….I can’t help thinking about it.” you said slowly to him. “When you look at me, senpai…”

The word felt foreign in your mouth — formal, yet intimate. “…I feel like I’ve already grieved you, or maybe you’ve grieved me. I don’t know which. But….it’s just like that.” you said. “And I don’t know why.”

Megumi’s breath stilled. His throat closed around the sound of your voice. And his heart, it was a traitorous little thing. And it surged once again in a violent way against his ribs.

Because that was you. Not the reaper. Not the officer. You. That was a sliver of something that remembered him, even if you didn’t know it. The first time you’d said anything like that.

The first time your body remembered what your mind had let go. He stepped forward. It was slow, like something might shatter if he moved too quickly. His boots scraped against gravel. You didn’t flinch. Your reddened eyes never left his blue–green gaze.

Fushiguro Megumi said your name. Just once. Your actual name. And it made you feel something. Something you weren’t supposed to feel. Your breath takes a hitch. The way he said it, you knew that it cracked at the edges.

And for a second, just a second, you looked like someone who knew what it meant. Like someone who’d said his name before, in a world that had long since died. The silence stretched between the two of you.

None of you break the silence. Instead, it just deepened.It was now too dense and too impossible to ignore. The kind of silence that remembers.Megumi’s breath held still, lodged somewhere behind his ribs, as though letting it go would undo whatever fragile thread was pulling you toward him.

Then he said it again. Your name. Not your title. Not your designation. Your name. Your actual name. He had spoken it in a low, careful, way. Perhaps more than the first. It was like it meant something dangerous. Something forbidden.

And the way it echoed in your chest. It was almost… familiar. And it just made your head hurt even more. Your breath caught. A tremor ran through you, subtle but sharp, and your eyes. Those tired, shadowed eyes had locked onto his own, like they’d done this before. Like they’d found him before.

Something changed in your expression, you were sure. Even if you couldn’t see it, you knew something had changed. Not recognition. Not quite. But something old. Something that haunted the space between memory and instinct.

“…Why did that sound like a goodbye?” you asked, voice rough, uncertain.

Megumi swallowed, jaw flexing. His gaze never left yours. “Because it might be. Our work is always full of goodbyes, after all.” he said.

You blinked. That was the moment. The flicker. A beat of stillness that didn’t belong to this life. A feeling that didn’t have a name. And you felt it. Deep down. Like a ripple in still water. The ache of having known someone, and the agony of not remembering how.

“Who are you to me?” you asked, softly. You weren’t sure you even meant to speak. The words came from somewhere else.

Megumi didn’t answer. Not with words. He stepped forward, slow and sure, and the scrape of gravel beneath his boots sounded louder than it should’ve.

The air felt heavier now, charged with things he cannot put together. His presence filled the alley like a shadow cast from something much older than the buildings around you.

“You don’t have to say anything.” you whispered. “But something in me… it reacts to you.”

Your hands trembled slightly as you looked at him, your fingers flexing like they were supposed to be holding something they’d already lost. Something they had been waiting to find. Megumi’s voice, when it finally came, was quiet.

“I think you were someone I couldn’t save.”

That silence returned once more. It was ever so dense, knowing. Not a void. A presence. You looked at him then. Really looked. And your heart gave a low, uncertain beat like it recognized the shape of him. Not the face, not the name. The weight of him. And then, quietly, your lips parted.

“…Why does it feel like I’ve cried for you before?” You whispered back to him. “I didn’t just mourn or feel sad. But I cried. Bitterly.”

Megumi’s expression didn’t change. But his hand twitched at his side. Your name sat between you like a secret that refused to die. And neither of you moved. Because something ancient had just stirred awake. And neither of you knew what would happen if it opened its eyes.

“Maybe.” He whispers to you. “Just maybe.”

The cigarette burned slowly between your fingers, the smoke catching faint dying gold from a nearby streetlight. You were still watching him, gaze heavy. It was not in weight, but in the way it pressed into him, like you were trying to figure out something that wouldn’t come.

Something that hovered just behind your ribs, just beyond your reach. And then, all at once, you looked away. Your head hurts even more than before. You let the cigarette meet your lips once again. 

You cursed, soft under your breath. “Fuck.” you muttered. “Forget it. I don’t remember.”

Megumi flinched like you’d slapped him. The shift was instant. Your voice closed off, a door slammed shut in the space between you. Your shoulders tensed as if embarrassed to have said anything at all.

You turned slightly, dragging one last inhale from the cigarette like it might anchor you back into this life. The one you knew, the one where he was your commanding officer and not something deeper, older, buried beneath centuries of silence.

“I didn’t mean to make it weird, senpai.” you added. A shrug. Casual. Too casual. “I’ve been overworked lately. It’s probably just… nerves.”

But Megumi couldn’t breathe. Because he remembered.He remembered every second of that moment when you looked at him like you knew him.

Not the version of him standing in front of you now, but the boy he used to be. The one who held your hand in another lifetime, who once promised you peace.

And now you were brushing it off like smoke in the wind. He opened his mouth to say something to you, at least anything that would make it better. But his voice caught in his throat. So he just stood there, hurting quietly like he always did.

“…It’s okay.” he said finally. Low. Tired. “It happens.”

You gave him a look, unreadable again. A flicker of something he couldn’t name. And then you nodded. As if that was the end of it. As if there shouldn’t be anything more to be said. As if it never happened.

You dropped the cigarette. Stepped it out with your boot. “We should head back. The office will want a full report.”

“Yeah.” 

He watched you walk ahead, back straight, hands tucked into your coat pockets like it was just another night, just another mission. But Fushiguro Megumi’s chest still ached with everything you didn’t say. 

Everything you almost remembered.

YOU ONLY FOUND OUT TODAY THAT SOMETHING WAS WRONG. You got in and you looked at the office. It was too quiet. Usually, people were bustling and hustling, putting in reports in and out of the sector head’s office. You were confused, very confused. Until you checked your emails. The report was never filed. At least not by him.

You noticed that his office was cold, his coat still hung on the hook by the door. There was no answer. No note. No explanation. Just silence. Nothing from his secretary. Nothing from his other subordinates. 

The first thing you did was check dispatch. The second was the morgue. By the third hour, you were in a rage. Something inside you wouldn’t calm down, wouldn’t sit still.

Not until you stormed the massive head of operations wing and grabbed Gojo Satoru by the collar in front of six stunned Reapers reporting to him and hissed.

“Where the hell is he?”

Gojo Satoru, for once, didn’t smile. He didn’t joke at all. He didn’t even pretend. He just looked at you, something strange and guilty swimming in the corners of his bright blue eyes. That had made you even angrier.

“I asked you a question!”

“I’m your boss, don’t you know that?”

“I don’t really give a fuck about proprieties right now.” You reiterated, brows narrowing deeper. “Now answer my question.”

“He’s in the Hall.”

The words didn’t register. “What? Which hall? There’s many halls in this place!”

“The Hall of Discipline.”

Your stomach dropped. “What? Why?”

Gojo sighed. Quiet. Tired. “For the obvious.”

“What, this is not making sense—”

“He falsified the report, [last name].” he said, more clearly this time. “Said the soul’s corruption was his mistake. Claimed he delayed the purge protocol. Said it was all on him. The office found a dozen violations in his write-up and he didn’t fight it. Took the blame.”

You couldn’t breathe. “That’s….”

“He’s your superior, as much as I am.” Gojo added, softer now. “When things go wrong, the system comes for the one in charge.”

“But I was—I stepped in, I—”

“I know that, kid.” The blue eyed man said. “We all know. But Megumi made it so no one else could touch you. He rerouted everything.”

Your hands were shaking. “He shouldn’t have….This is stupid!”

“It is. But he still did.” Gojo Satoru put a hand on your shoulder. His voice dropped. “He did it for you.”

You moved almost instantly. Your legs moved like a blade through the halls. You did not care for anything else. You had to get there fast. You didn’t care if you were going to get in. You’ll force your way in. You didn’t carry any clearance, nor were there orders for you to be there. But that also didn’t matter.

All you had to do was walk in. The guards didn’t dare stop you. They felt it in the air around you. The storm. The promise. They saw your eyes, your fists clenched into fists. It was all too much, that energy flowing from your body.

Down below, the stones whispered. Every step rang against old bones. The torches bent away from your passing. You stopped there soon enough, at the seventh row. You knew that cell. The worst one. Your throat felt dry.

You opened the door almost immediately. And you saw him, you saw everything. He was there. Fushiguro Megumi. Chained. Bruised. Slumped in shadow.

One eye was swollen. One hand red with dried blood. He didn’t lift his head at first. Not until you said something. Not until you called his name like it still meant something.

Then slowly, his gaze suddenly found you. His breath caught. “…….You came.” he murmured. A rasp, not quite real. “......Why?”

“I should be asking this question.” Your throat burned. “Why did you do it?”

He blinked once at your words. Then again.

As if the answer had teeth. As if it lived behind his ribs.

And then he hitches a breath, trying to speak despite the pain.

 “You weren’t supposed to be here.” he said softly. “Not in this life. Not like this.”

You stared at him. “…What does that mean?”

But he didn’t answer. Only looked at you like you were a secret he’d buried centuries ago and couldn’t stop digging up. And for a moment, for just a breath, your skin remembered him. Not your mind. Not your soul. Just the body.

The instinct. The shape of something familiar in the dark. A voice you’d followed into fire before. You didn’t know why your hands moved.

Why you reached him with everything in you. Why he let you. But you touched him. Gently. His jaw. His cheek. The side of his throat where something still beat, still fought.

“You should’ve let me take the fall.” 

Your voice was low, splintering at the edges. A whisper only the walls and the dust could hear. Your hand cupped his cheek tenderly, carefully as you could, your soft palm against the warmth of bruised skin. 

“It was my fault.”

“I couldn’t. ” Megumi breathed. Not because it hurt. Not because he was bleeding. But because you’d said it. That. The one thing he’d wanted to protect you from.

“You could have—”

“You know that I wouldn’t.” he added. A little more fragile now. Like he was trying not to fall through the space between you. “This is the only choice.”

Your grip trembled. Not because of fear, that was for sure. But because somewhere in your body, in your bones, you did know. You didn’t remember, not truly. Not all of it. Not clearly. But it seems your body did. 

You could feel the ache. There was an instinct. The way your fingers ghosted over the edge of his jaw like they'd memorized the path long ago. The way your eyes were clouded with concern. That was real. That was yours. That was surely warm. Only for him.

“I didn’t want this, senpai.” you whispered. “I didn’t want you like this.”

His lashes lowered. Eyes half–lidded, jaw tight. “I know.”

Silence pressed in from all sides. The stone, the iron, the weight of what couldn’t be said. What wasn’t supposed to be remembered. But it lingered anyway.

Between you. Like a curse. Like a vow. You leaned in, forehead resting against his skin. The light flickered overhead. Shadows crawled across the cell floor like old ghosts.

“I keep feeling it.” you murmured, almost to yourself. “That something's missing. Like I'm half–awake. And when I see you... it’s like I almost know what I’m supposed to say. Like I’ve said it before.”

Megumi didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just watched you. 

Like you were sunlight bleeding through a locked door. 

Then, he speaks to you with laboured breaths.

“I used to dream of you.” he said. Soft. Low. Carved in smoke. 

“Before you ever put on the uniform. Before the office took your name. There’s too much to say….Too much to speak on.” 

“Senpai, don’t speak too much—”

But Megumi didn’t stop. He felt feverish, lost in the pain. He was losing his mind. “You’d show up in places you shouldn’t have been since that first life. Under sakura trees. In the middle of winter. At the edge of a battlefield.”

You blinked at his words.

Your heart clenched.

Your lips pursed into a line.

“You always smiled. Always left first.”

Something twisted inside your chest. A flicker of grief you couldn’t place. “Senpai….”

“I think I was supposed to follow you. Everywhere…..” Megumi whispered. “I just… never got there in time.”

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Your fingers curled tighter against his skin. And deep in the marrow of your soul, something remembered. Something screamed. But the name wouldn’t come. Nothing would come to you. Even if you wished there was.

His blue–green eyes fluttered, glassy and dark, lashes trembling like he was fighting sleep—or memory. And then, like something pulled from the bottom of a well, his voice returned. Distant. Drenched in fever.

“She always leaves first…” he mumbled, barely audible. “Still wears the ribbon… said it meant ‘home’…”

You froze. The words hit you like a blade behind the ribs. Because you’d heard them before. Your head started to hurt once again. You bit your lip, trying to not let the pain win. You turned to look at Megumi, but the words continued to echo in your head. 

It was too familiar. It was like you remembered it. Yet it was not here. Not in this life. Somewhere else. A dream, maybe. A voice calling across some great divide. The ribbon was real, but you couldn’t explain how. Couldn’t remember ever being given one. And yet, suddenly your hand was moving.

You reached beneath the folds of his tattered coat, down the neckline of his uniform, like something was guiding you and there, tucked against his collarbone, warm with his fevered skin. 

A ribbon. Frayed at the edges. Crimson. Your breath caught in your throat. So you don’t forget me. The words weren’t yours. Not yet. But they echoed in the hollow of your ribs like they belonged. 

And you knew. You knew he’d been holding on to it across lifetimes. A part of you broke, almost instantly. But a deeper part of you awakened. It was like a ghost coming to you, haunting you with something you couldn’t even remember, mockingly.

“Come back to me.” you whispered, voice trembling. Copying the words in your head. The pain is becoming more and more prevalent. “Wherever you are… whatever this is… come back.”

His body stilled in your arms. His head lolled gently, eyes barely open. “…don’t let them take you again…”

It wasn’t a plea. It was a warning. The shadows around you shifted. The air thinned. Something old was listening.  The Hall of Discipline groaned faintly above you, its stone bones creaking under memory and magic. 

The red ribbon pulsed against your fingers. It was soft, steady. Like a heartbeat. Like a tether. It felt so familiar. And you hated it. Because you couldn’t understand it. You purse your lips, the thundering hurt hammering in your head.

Fushiguro Megumi had slept into feverish slumber. 

Soon enough, you knew you were also going to.

You pull out your phone and call Gojo Satoru.

“Bring medics down here.” You whispered to him. “Now.”

You hung up and leaned against Megumi, holding the ribbon.

THAT BITTER NIGHT, YOUR SLEEP CAME IN MANY FRAGMENTS. It all came in so many fractures you could not understand. And when it did, when your body finally gave in to exhaustion, you dreamed. But not like before.

This one was... different. You were standing in a garden. Quiet. Cracked stone beneath your feet, dust curling around the hem of robes that felt too heavy, too ancient to belong to the present. Trees loomed tall overhead, but they were wilted. Hollow. Like something had long since abandoned them.

There was a shrine. Or maybe a ruin.

Something half–buried and forgotten.

And he was there. Megumi. But not quite.

He didn’t wear black. He didn’t look like the version you knew. His hair was longer, tied back. His eyes were the same. But older somehow. More haunted. He was standing at the edge of a small pond, hand resting on a stone marker.

And when he turned to you, your heart lurched so violently in your chest it almost woke you. “You always find me here, you know.” he said.

You blinked. “I don’t understand.”

“No, I don’t suppose so.” he murmured. “You never do. Not the first time. Not even this time.”

You stepped forward, compelled by something you couldn’t name. You looked down at the stone marker. It was worn smooth. The name had faded from it. All except one character. Yours. And then, a hand gripped your wrist. Familiar. Steady. Warm.

But when you looked up, he wasn’t standing beside the stone anymore. He was behind you eyes narrowed like he was afraid of what, you couldn’t tell. You were confused. This was not reality. You were sure of that. This wasn’t real. This wasn’t true.

“You’re not supposed to be here yet, not just yet,” he whispered. “Not this time.”

“Why not?” you asked, your voice trembling.

He didn’t answer.

The dream shattered like glass.

You felt like you were falling.

The weight of the world blinked away as you landed. And when your eyes opened again, you were in a hospital room. The light was pale. Blurred at the edges. Machines hummed like lullabies gone wrong. Outside the window, snow fell against the glass in slow motion. It was too slow, like time had stopped to watch.

You looked down. You were in the bed. IVs in your arms. Tubes at your side. Everything white and wrong. The door creaked open. And there he was. Megumi. But younger, still tired. His hair damp from the rain. His Reaper uniform still clung to him. Another version of him from another time. 

You were once more confused as he looked at you, so tenderly, so warmly, so devotedly. He stepped inside quietly, as if any noise would wake something that wasn’t supposed to rise. His eyes met yours, and the pain in them was older than anything the world had a name for.

“You’re not supposed to be here yet.” he whispered.

Your throat felt tight. You tried to sit up, but couldn’t. The ache in your chest told you something was ending. “Why not?” you asked, voice trembling. “Why can’t I stay?”

He didn’t answer right away. He came to your side, and sat in the chair like he’d done it a thousand times. Reached for your hand like it had always been his to hold. His thumb brushed over your knuckles.

"You weren’t meant to see this. You weren’t supposed to see the end, your end." he said, finally. Voice low. Fragile. “But you did. And it broke something.”

“What did it break?”

Another pause. Then, his voice broke too: “Me.”

The lights above flickered. You looked down and saw the ribbon again, tied loosely around your wrist. “I’m sorry.” you whispered, not knowing why.

He leaned in, pressing his forehead to your temple. “You always say that.” he murmured.

And then suddenly, that sound again.

You can hear the shattering glass.

That horrific, sharp sound.

The world split open, the hospital room disintegrating into fragments. White light, falling snow, the beeping machines all swallowed by black. You fell through it like water. And then you woke up. Sweating. Shaking.

The real Fushiguro Megumi still lay unconscious in the cot beside you, fever cooling slowly under your watch. The red ribbon was still in your hand. But now, you remembered the feeling of  snow. You remembered the feeling of dying. And you remembered him, at your side.

Every time.

Every lifetime.

Every chance.

And you still didn’t know why.

You sat up, feeling the sweat cold at the back of your neck, breath caught in your throat. And across the room, far from you and Megumi, you could feel the faint, flickering, like a phantom.

For a moment, you thought you saw a shadow move. It looked like someone standing just at the edge of your perception. Watching with such precision. Such intent. Such desire.

Gone when you blinked. But you felt it. The same ache from the alley. The same weight in your chest. The same name, unspoken but circling your ribs like a storm waiting to break. You didn’t sleep again that night. Instead, you watched Fushiguro Megumi breathe.

YOU WERE EXHAUSTED WHEN YOU CAME INTO THE OFFICE. But that was because you were still feeling sick.That’s what they told you, anyway. That’s why you were still officially on medical leave. That’s why you weren’t supposed to be on–site today.

It’s why they hadn’t even processed your last mission report yet, which you were sure said something about "emotional trauma recovery" whatever that meant in a place like this.

But you didn’t care about that at all. You woke up before the sun that morning, throat raw from another dream you couldn’t quite shake, your fingers still curled around the edge of Megumi’s spare coat, left behind on the couch.

So you came in. You took the high elevator to the top deck, to what used to be an observatory before the league converted it. Now it was all reinforced glass and glowing panels, quiet enough to think and empty enough to breathe. 

You stood there, staring out over the city that doesn’t even know you exist. The wide world is still asleep below you, blanketed in blue and grey. For a moment there, you thought you were alone. Until the reflection shifted.

Division Head Gojo Satoru’s tall frame emerged behind you in the glass, arms folded casually, his usual blindfold replaced by tinted lenses. He looked half like a ghost, and half like someone who never really slept.

You didn’t hide your surprise. “You’re up early, senpai.”

“Old habit, I suppose.” he said, stepping closer. “I used to crash here when the paperwork got unbearable. Not much has changed.”

You looked at him. “You still do?”

He didn’t answer directly. Just gave a small smile and joined you at the glass, the mundane city lights painting dying soft gold across his jaw. He studied your face for a moment. He hummed soon after.

“You shouldn’t be here, no?” he said eventually, voice gentler than expected.

You scoffed. “Says the guy who’s technically been dead a million times.”

A flicker of amusement crossed his face. “Touché.”

A long silence passed between you at that moment.

The kind that felt full, not at all like a blank canvas. 

The kind only people who’ve shared enough pain can understand.

“Did you see him?” you asked suddenly, without looking.

Gojo’s smile faded. He exhaled through his nose.

“He’s still recovering, in his apartment.” he said. “Stubborn as ever.”

You nodded. Your reflection looked pale, eyes a little too hollow. “He shouldn’t have done that.”

“He didn’t see another way. Especially as your boss.”

“I would’ve taken the punishment.”

“He knew that.” Gojo turned to face you now. “But the system doesn’t work that way. And you—”

He paused. Something unreadable flickered in his gaze. “You’ve always been meant for something else, aren’t you?”

You turned toward him, brows drawing. “What does that mean?”

Gojo tilted his head, a grin returning but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m not the one who gets to answer that. Sorry”

A pulse of unease tightened in your chest. Like something was circling you in your own skin. Like something remembered.

“Gojo–senpai—” you started, stepping forward without thinking. But he was already moving, already backing away, like he’d said too much or just enough.

“Get some rest, kid.” he said, his voice lighter now, but not soft. “And don’t do anything stupid. Or at least… not without backup.”

The doors behind him hissed open. He turned.

But then he stopped. Just for a second.

His head angled over his shoulder, voice low now. Real low.

“You saw something, didn’t you?” The words slipped through the quiet like a needle. 

Your mouth opened. Closed. “What?”

“In your dreams, when you were knocked out.”

“I don’t know….” you said. “It felt like… like a memory. But not mine.”

Gojo’s voice dropped, serious in a way he rarely allowed. “Some memories don’t belong to just one person.”

You glanced at him. “So whose was it?”

He looked at you carefully. His tone was impossibly gentle. “Yours.” he said. “And his.”

Gojo Satoru turned back toward you fully, no grin this time, no swagger. Just those pale lenses catching the dull ceiling light. His face was unreadable for a moment as he ended up deep in his thoughts.

“In your dreams, sometimes…..” he said. “You remember things. Not clearly. Not yet. But something’s waking up.”

You stared at him.

Your stomach turned.

Your lips pursed deep.

“Megumi…” you whispered. “Was it because of me?”

Gojo didn't respond. Didn’t need to. The silence cracked between you like ice underfoot. And then he walked away, hands in his coat pockets, disappearing into the flickering lights of the hallway. You turned back to the glass. The city hadn’t changed. The light was still dull, the sky still gray.

But your reflection was different now. Because in your own eyes, something else looked back. And this time, it blinked with you. Like something had decided. Like something in you had finally opened its eyes.

“You’ll find out soon enough.” He says, smiling at you. “Go on. Back home.”

You were going to argue but you gave in and nodded.

He turns around and walks away, his face drops.

He takes his phone from his pocket and the phone rings.

“She’s going to remember soon.”

YOU DIDN’T WANT TO DO THIS, BUT YOU ENDED UP HERE ANYWAY. Far above, tucked away in the forbidden archives of the League of Reapers, a forgotten case file blinked awake, its lock peeling open, quietly, like something old had just been permitted to stir.

The records room wasn’t supposed to be open after hours. Especially not the forbidden wing. You weren’t sure how you got past the first two sigil locks. You didn’t stop to question it. Your hands just moved, like they knew what they were reaching for.

Down long aisles of dust and dead magic, your footsteps were the only sound. The further in you walked, the more the air changed. It was heavy, old, metallic. Like the stillness right before a storm. You passed the shelves that should’ve had your file. Yours and Megumi’s.

But there was nothing. Just blank ledgers. Burnt corners. Redacted names. Your existence. It was odd. It was fully cleaned off the paper like a sin no one wanted to confess. You stood there in front of the empty space where the file should be, hands trembling.

“…Why?” you whispered. “Why can’t I find anything?”

The lights overhead flickered.

And then, without warning, you stopped.

You felt that endless burst of energy.

“Because you were never meant to.”

The voice came from behind you. Calm. Controlled.

Beautiful in a way that makes your skin crawl.

You turned, slowly to see that face you had longed to see.

Geto Suguru. The Keeper of the Forgotten. The guardian of records sealed by the gods of this realm. He stood with his hands behind his back, black robes pooling like ink around his boots. His purple eyes gleamed golden in the dark.

“You shouldn’t be here, reaper.” he said, voice smooth like a blade sliding into silk. “These files are sealed for a reason.”

“I had a dream, keeper.” you said. “I saw a version of myself. I—remembered something. And I…..I don’t know. I need to—”

“That wasn’t a memory.” Geto cuts you off. “That was residue. Massive chunks, it would seem. It's a massive leftover of emotion trying to piece itself into something. It’s dangerous to mistake echoes for truth.”

Your voice sharpened. “Then what’s the truth?”

Geto tilted his head, dark hair falling over one eye. “It’s not your place to ask.”

Something inside you flared. “It’s about me. How is it not my place?”

He took a step forward to you, his beautifully decorated robes flowing as he did. You backed up instinctively and suddenly hit the shelf behind you. His presence closed in like mist under a door. After all, he was not one to challenge.

“You died, reaper.” he said softly. “And you weren’t chosen to come back. But something refused to let go. Something broke the cycle. Your soul was taken, not guided. That makes you… an anomaly.”

You swallowed. “So someone stole me?”

Geto Suguru didn’t answer.

But his silence was confirmation enough.

That had made your chest constrict.

“I deserve to know what I have forgotten.” you said, a low shake in your voice. “Please.”

Geto’s purple haze darkened. It was not unkind, but far too knowing. “Reaper, it is not your place to ask.”

“Keeper—”

“You had made your choice a hundred years ago. The choice is final. You have chosen this life.” he said. “You believed you deserve peace. And we have given it to you.”

He raised a hand. You felt the air around you thicken, magic curling tight around your lungs, around your mind. The archives blurred from you all of the sudden. Your eyes widened as you looked at him.

“No—wait—” you started.

“Go back to your sector, reaper.” Geto said gently, stepping back into the dark. “Before the parts of you that are still whole begin to remember why they were broken in the first place.”

And with that, darkness.

WEEKS LATER, IT WAS HARD TO DEAL WITH THE SILENCE. Fushiguro Megumi wanted to look for you. But it was like you vanished into thin air. It was stupid, how he went into a frenzy when he came looking for you.

Yet that was all he could know. He couldn’t stand it, going into silence. He hated that more when you appeared in his nightmares. It was raining when Megumi found you again.

He didn’t find you until it was already late. It was way too cold, even for a reaper. Outside headquarters, where reapers weren’t supposed to linger this long in the mortal veil.

You stood beneath the overhang of a closed shop, arms folded over your chest, face lifted slightly to the sky like you didn’t know where else to be. Like you didn’t know how long you'd been standing there.

He almost didn’t call out to you. Almost let you stay like that—just standing there at the edge of the platform, watching the clouds roll over the city like ash. The back of you looked like someone else. Like someone older. Like someone trying to remember what it felt like to be whole.

But your aura....it wasn’t sitting right. Fushiguro Megumi knew the shape of you in every room. Could pick you out from a mile away, even in crowds, even in battle. But this? This wasn’t your usual rhythm. 

Your energy was jittery, off–beat. Like someone had burned out the center of you and filled it with static. The aftershock of a dream you couldn’t shake. Something was rattling inside of you and he felt it in his bones.

“…You okay?” Megumi’s voice was low. Careful.

You flinched. And that did something to him. Made his gut twist. Made his jaw tighten. You never flinched around him before. Not like that. He stepped forward, slowly, like he might spook you if he didn’t. His coat rustled against the silence.

“Shouldn’t you still be resting? You’re still injured.”

You didn’t look at him when you said it, just let the words slide out with the smoke that curled from your cigarette. It was slow, unbothered.

Like maybe you weren’t worried sick about him for the past two nights. Like maybe you hadn’t checked his office three times today already. Like maybe your heart wasn’t still racing from that dream.

But Fushiguro Megumi saw the tension in your fingers, how they trembled just a little when you flicked the ash. He saw how you stood slightly off–balance, weight shifting like you didn’t want to be caught hoping.

“I wanted to see you.” he said simply, honestly. The words came quiet, unfiltered. “You disappeared for the whole day. Gojo told me.”

You exhaled, sharp through your nose. “Why is he snitching on me?” you muttered, flicking your cigarette to the side, watching the embers die as they scattered. “Old man’s bored, isn’t he?”

Megumi shrugged one shoulder. “Probably. He said you looked ‘haunted’ and then told me to handle it before he had to get emotionally involved.”

You snorted softly. “That sounds like him.”

A beat of silence passed between you. Then another. The wind picked up and pushed at the hem of your coat. You rubbed your arms. It was feeling more from nerves than cold, you were sure. But you hated that. You would have rather it was the cold. 

Finally turned to look at him. His hair was still damp. His knuckles were bandaged. His blue–green eyes were dark under the weight of whatever hell he’d just been through. But he was here. He came.

“…You shouldn’t be up and about just yet.” you said again, quieter now. “You’re still recovering. You look like shit.”

Megumi’s gaze flickered to yours, sharp but soft, like a blade dulled at the edge for your sake alone. “And you look like you haven’t slept in three days.”

You didn’t respond.

He stepped closer.

You didn’t look up.

“You weren’t there after the mission for today.” he said to you. “And I kept thinking….if you were alright. If you were doing well. You were having bad headaches too.”

Your chest tightened. “How did you—”

“It was obvious.”

Because it was. And you did realize it, how obvious it was. That you were in pain. Yet you didn’t know what to tell him what it was all about. You didn’t know what to tell him. When it was all horrible things. 

But you didn’t know how to tell him that every time you closed your eyes, you heard him whisper your name in a hospital room that didn’t exist. That some part of you knew that voice before your brain ever caught up. That it made your heart twist in ways that didn’t make sense.

“You came all this way just to check on me?” you asked, forcing a wry smile.

Megumi didn’t blink. “I’d cross the veil if I had to.”

Just like that, your cigarette burned out between your fingers. Your eyes met his and lingered. “I think I lost something.” you said.

His heart kicked. “What do you mean?”

You opened your mouth, then closed it. “I went to the archives.”

Megumi stiffened. “What?”

“I had to.” Your voice was soft. “I needed to know why I keep dreaming things that feel like memories. Why I remember voices that don’t belong to me. Why you… why I keep—”

You stopped yourself. Jaw locking. 

Megumi’s gaze never wavered. “What happened?”

You looked away. “They weren’t there.” you whispered. “Our files. Everything I was looking for—it’s gone. Or hidden. Or… I don’t know.”

Silence. “And then…” Your voice faltered. “He was there.”

Megumi’s eyes narrowed. “Who?”

You hesitated. “Geto Suguru. The Keeper.”

Megumi swore under his breath. Stepped toward you. “What did he say?”

“That it’s not my place to know.” you said, bitter. “That I was taken. That my soul wasn’t meant to be here. That someone pulled me from the cycle and forced me into this life.”

Megumi’s breath stopped when you mentioned those words. You didn’t see the way his hands curled into fists. Didn’t see the fear creeping up his throat. You didn’t know how much anguish this was putting him through.

“I tried to remember after that.” you continued. “But something’s wrong. Like there’s a hole in my head. I can feel it. I was so close, and now it’s just…”

You looked at him again, more desperate now. “Why does it feel like you’re the only thing I remember?” you asked. “Like my soul keeps walking toward you, even when I don’t want it to.”

Megumi couldn’t speak. Didn’t trust himself too. Because he knew that feeling. Knew what it was to ache for someone you weren’t supposed to keep finding. Know the exact weight of your gaze. The way his name used to sound from your lips.

He took one slow step closer.Then another. He didn’t touch you. But he stood close enough for you to feel the heat of him beneath the rain. His bright blue–green eyes locked to yours, solemn, endless.

“I’ll find out what they’re hiding,” he said. “I swear it.”

“…Why?” you whispered.

Megumi's voice was quiet, but it hit like thunder: “Because your soul isn’t the only one that remembers.”

You looked at him confused and uncertain.

The scent of the cigarette left your lips.

You nodded at him, letting everything slip by.

Later, the tension in the air thickened, like a storm pressing down on the heavy silence between them. Fushiguro Megumi’s resolve, forged from year after year of restraint and quiet determination.

Now felt like a chain binding him to the past and the future that Geto Suguru had hinted at. A future where the woman he loved was something more than human.  More than what he could protect.

Geto Suguru, the Keeper, stepped back, the hint of amusement in his voice masked by something far older, more knowing. "You think you’re the one holding the key, don’t you, reaper." he said, almost as though to himself. "But the door was never locked to begin with. You’re just too stubborn to see it."

Fushiguro Megumi’s gaze never wavered. He knew the risks of going here. He knew the stories buried beneath the names in those forbidden files. But none of it had ever mattered more than you. You were more important than anyone to him in this world.

“I’m not afraid of what’s in that file, you know that. I remember everything, even if you blank it out.” Megumi said, his voice hardening. “You may think I’m blind to the danger, but I’m not. I’ll tear down every wall you put up between us.”

Geto’s smile returned, just a little—cold and calculated. “You can try. But the truth always catches up.”

Megumi didn’t flinch. His mind was set, his path clear. The years of unanswered questions, the weight of a thousand lost memories, had led him here. To this moment. To this man who seemed to hold all the pieces of a puzzle Megumi could never finish on his own.

“You’re wrong about one thing, keeper.” Megumi added, his voice softer now, but no less firm. “I’m not the only one who remembers.”

Geto’s eyes flickered, just for a moment. Then, with a shift of his body, he turned, as if dismissing the conversation entirely. "We'll see."

Fushiguro Megumi stood there, unmoving. It wasn’t over. It wasn’t nearly over. Not as long as she still came back to him. Not as long as the past, and the memories they shared, remained anchored to their souls.

The door behind him closed with a finality that echoed. But the bond was already there, and nothing Geto Suguru said or did could sever it. And Megumi would make sure of that.

[cherryblossom-heart]

Out of curiosity, this is simply a what if scenario: How would Devour Me Sukuna react after reuniting with reader officially, being like, “Hehe time to finally get my girl back 😏😏” only to find out she adopted a kid during his 3 year absence (how or why she adopted is up to interpretation)

Kenji [A devour me what if.]

modern!Sukuna x Reader

C.W: mentions of violence, child abuse and drug use. Also Naoya being Naoya. Not proof read, I literally just did this like an hour ago

A/N:This is kinda funny because when I was in the brainstorm phase for Devour me I considered having that with reader and I think I kinda did a compromise with the fact that reader is sort of completely involved with Sukuna's family and is basically an aunt for Yuji but in this scenario I imagine him finding out at Yuji's birthday party. I really enjoyed making this haha, hope you guys like it. I'm not really tagging anyone cause this is just a drabble, not part of the main story.

This is a drabble for Devour Me

W.C: 1.7k

Sukuna paced around the party, like a predator looking for a prey, as he searched around for you. Ever since he had arrived you had avoided him like the plague, avoiding his gaze every chance he could. Hell, if Jin hadn’t told him you practically organized the whole thing he might’ve thought you hadn’t even showed up.

He expected you to argue with him, try to kick him out of the party or at least send one of your poisonous looks at him. Instead you avoided him like the plague, almost as if you were afraid to see him.

Uraume had told him to give you some space, let you come out in your own terms and reach out to them as they also were confused by your behavior so caution was the best course to take. He hadn’t listened to the, of course. Instead he had chased you around the party but you always found a way to escape him.

So fucking slippery.

After looking for you for what it felt like the hundredth time, he finally got you. His hand reached out to you, his fingertips almost grazing your skin, but the voice of a child stopped him cold.

“Can I stay the night at Yuji’s? Please.” The kid whined.

He seemed around his nephews age. maybe a year younger. Who knew, he had always been bad at guessing kid’s ages but he definitely seemed to be as hyperactive as his nephew.

Whatever, his age didn’t mattered.

Why the fuck was this kid asking you for permission like you were his mother?

You turned to him, crossing your arms over your chest as you looked at him with an eyebrow cocked.

“Did you clean your room?”

What the fuck?

“I did! I promise!” He almost screamed making you laugh.

“What about your home–“

“I did my homework too!” He interrupted you.

You gave him a pat in the head, ruffling his jet black hair.

“Alright, bug. Let me talk to Jin and we’ll see.”

The kid, now euphoric at the prospect of spending the night at his brother’s house, hugged your legs, multiple thank you’s showering you. You laughed at him, placing a small kiss on the top of his head.

Sukunas heart stopped, his mind crashing as he kept staring at the scene unfolding right infront of him.

Who the fuck was this kid?

Why the fuck were you acting like his mother?

Did you somehow had a kid that already came out looking like a seven year old?

Why did his heart yearned more for you as he watched your tenderness?

His mind didn’t seem to cooperate with him, instead dragging him down further in the spiral. Eventually, the kid spotted him, a frown placing on his face. If Sukuna wasn’t too lost in his mind he would’ve been impressed at the protectiveness the kid had over you. The kid gestured you to come down, whispering something that Sukuna assumed was along the lines of “There’s a weird, angry looking man behind you.”

You turned around, the panic in your eyes evident as your eyes met his.

“I–“ the words died in your throat.

Why were you even nervous of him knowing? He had left. He had abandoned you, leaving you behind in this mess you couldn’t get out of. You hated him, you despised him. You would probably celebrate the day he died.

Then why didn’t you want to face him, tell him about Kenji?

Because that would open a pandora box you were trying to keep hidden. You weren’t proud to be the reason why Kenji had ended up alone. Well you weren’t the direct reason, Naoya had been the one to give the order but you had supplied the names.

Kenji’s guardian wasn’t even his father, Kenji’s mother had remarried and unfortunately she had died a couple of years ago, leaving Kenji with a drug dealing stepfather that liked to consume his own product and who had no love for his stepkid. The stepfather would neglect and regularly beat Kenji, at least enough to get his stress out.

You weren’t expecting one of Naoya’s men to call you, telling you there was kid right in the scene. You drove to the decadent house of the man who had stolen the Zenin product, bursting through the door as they pointed a gun towards the kid. You screamed at him, forcing them to lower the guns at the poor kid as he shook.

“The boss said no witnesses.”

“He’s a fucking kid, you dimwit!”

A verbal fight ensued, Naoya’s men raising their voice over yours in an attempt to intimidate you. As if this was your first time arguing with a cave man. You pulled out your gun, a hateful habit you had gathered from working for Naoya but that came in a good time as you threatened the men.

You took the kid with you that night.

When Naoya had inevitably called, you had asked what he planned to do with him.

“Kill him, obviously.”

You had pleaded with him, try to reason with him that there wasn’t a way you would let it happen. You offered to send him to a foster home far, far away from here yet he denied every time, you would personally pay to take him to another country if you had to.

“A bullet in his head will assure me he’ll never talk.”

Then you did the unthinkable. You offered yourself to be the one taking care of the kid. You would be the one making sure he would never tell what happened that night. Naoya had looked at you for a long time, his thoughts clouding his eyes. It wasn’t until he smiled that you were able to breathe again.

“Fine.”

You weren’t stupid, you knew what he saw. Another weak point, another knife to your neck. You knew the moment you stepped out of line Naoya would play the most painful cards and yet you took on the challenge. That was better than carrying the kids death in your conscience, you already had enough demons keeping you up at night.

A little over a year you were here, thankful to have found Kenji. And thankful he didn’t kill you for causing his stepfathers death. Sometimes it almost seemed like he thanked you.

And now, as Sukuna stared at you, you couldn’t find the words to explain.

What could you say?

Hey, Naoya has me by the balls. I adopted this kid because he almost got killed for being in the wrong place at the wrong time and its kinda my fault? I’m in deep and I don’t know how to get out.

Help me.

No, you couldn’t.

So you stared at him, your mouth trying to expel any words but only silence came out.

“Kenji.” Toji called next to you, making everyone snap their heads.

 He walked up to you, his eyes nervously traveling from Sukuna to you back and forth. He placed his hand on your back in an effort to comfort you and Sukuna’s blood boiled.

“Why don’t you go with Megumi and Yuji? They’re about to open Yuji’s presents.”

However, the kids eyes remained on Sukuna, throwing him an evil, deathly stare surprising for a kid.

What a little shit, he thought to himself.

You patted the kids back, pulling him slightly apart from you. You leaned over with a warm smile, as if you were perfectly comfortable with the situation.

“Go, bug. I’ll catch up to you in a bit.” The kid hesitated, his grasp slowly loosening but you insisted. “It’s ok. Go.”

Toji guided the kid away, giving you a concerned look that you satiated with a smile, the fakest smile Sukuna had ever seen.

Sukuna waited until the kid was far away, almost lost in the crowd before grabbing your wrist, pulling you aside in the forest. After a walking a couple of feet in the woods, he finally let you go.

He began pacing back and forth, his mind still in shock.

“Sukuna…” You started but his eyes stopped you.

“What the fuck are you doing with that kid?”

His words came out harsh, like stones thrown at you. He was so upset you thought he might pop a vein in his forehead. But his eyes looked at you in pain and confusion, as if you were the one in the wrong here. As if you were the one that had hurt him out of the blue.

How dared he? How could he come back and as for explanations when he was the one that left?

You scoffed at him “None of your fucking business.”

You could’ve sworn you saw flames coming out of his eyes.

“None of my fucking business?” He spat. “It’s my fucking business when I come back and my girl is playing house with someone else’s kid!”

“Oh, fuck you.” You rolled your eyes. “You have no fucking right to come here and ask for any explanations. You fucking left me and lied to me. I don’t owe you shit.”

“I don’t give a fuck!” He screamed. “I come back and now you have some weird shit going on with Naoya and apparently you have a kid? Where the fuck are his parents?”

 Sukuna saw you a flash of something he couldn’t quite place when you mentioned the little brat’s parents.

“He doesn’t have anyone. He’s alone.”

Sukuna looked at you, about to ask how you were sure of it, but your eyes were now washed over… guilt? Why would you be remorseful about a kid without parents? He could understand sadness, compassion, even heartbreak but why guilt? Why would you carry around the burden of the child’s misfortunes.

Unless…

He looked at you and you saw him, somehow, connecting  the pieces of the puzzle.

“What the fuck did you do?” He walked to wards you, long and strong steps making the ground vibrate. “What the fuck did that psycho made you do?” You pushed him away, your lungs constricting the closer he got but as always, he was relentless. He held your face, forcing you to look at him. “What the fuck happened?” He whispered.

Word’s failed you for a second time, the walls you had built doing the best they could to bury down all your demons.

And Sukuna wasn’t any better, his mind still racing through everything. He couldn’t decide if he was angry, surprised, or bitter. Maybe a mixture of all or maybe none of them at all. All he understood is that there was a pang in his chest the longer he looked at you.

You were raising a kid.

You had a kid now.

What the fuck had happened in the past three years?

If you like the story please interact: reblogs, likes and comments go a long way. Feedback is always appreciated! Feel free to message me about it.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Platonic Yandere Sea Monster

The ocean is a dangerous entity 

Known for her high waves, immeasurable depths, and eternal mysteries

She entices millions into her cold embrace every day

Many of whom are devoured by said mysteries leaving no trace

One of its greatest mysteries is a creature who’s been roaming beneath the surface of the earth for eons

So it truly is a special occasion that Maelstrom breaks this streak for a feast on a private yacht 

It’s far too easy how this new (to him) bipedal species gawks and helplessly flails while he sucks the bones out of their soft skin

He doesn’t care for the soft innards that the skin holds 

He does like how their screams gurgle and warble as he delights in their crunchy bones

So he makes it his mission to devour or turn into water 

And he’s sure that he’s done so with all of the little crunchy snack bags on the ship

Until he’s led into a cramped little closet with a tiny version of the springy boxes he’d found before

On it was a wailing babe—you

Now that he’s recognized 

Because for all the different species evolution has brought it a crying infant was a common denominator

And you were crying hard

Whether you were the sibling or offspring of some ill-thinking teen or an overworked employee of the crew the one who was going to care for you was gone

And Maelstorm knew that

On the account that he’s certain he’d still be hearing your incessant crying on the entirely silent yacht, he molds his water-like body into something more like the ‘human skin bags’ 

Letting his face bulge and bubble with the vague memory of his meal’s screaming faces until you stop crying

“There…there…my pearl.”

It’s been so long since he’s been awake to have a pet 

Surely it won’t be too hard

…right?

“Aaaaghh!”

“You’re not hungry, you’re not sleepy, you’ve already gone to the bathroom! WHAT IS IT!?”

He’s never been so stressed out 

Stressed out trying to stop your little face from contorting anymore as you empty your little lungs and exhaust your little vocal cords

He eventually decides he does need help and uses one of the less rotted bodies to go on land and learn among these skin bags so that he knows what to do

“Oh poor sir looks like they’re just hungry for some warm hugs.”

“Is that…really all?”

“Why of course! Babies really hinge on your emotions and attention.”

After he takes in the ‘nurse’s’ wisdom he begins to feel something new 

Something full of jealousy that has him snatching your swaddled form before giving a light pat that turns her into a puddle on the floor

Maelstorm easily finds another skin-bag with a nice face to take the body of 

Leaving with a skip in his step while the ‘skin-bags’ authorities baffled over the only remnant of a missing ‘nurse’

“I see now to avoid this awful feeling I must make sure all my affection is being given to my pearl.”

From there you can be sure that you’re entire life will be filled with Maelstorm learning about the negative emotions he can get as you grow

True there will be many positive feelings 

But he learns that to protect those precious new feelings 

Barricading you on abandoned ships and attacking all the skin-bags that come to keep it that way

And even when you grow into the adults he’d previously snacked on

He won’t completely leave humans alone

He pulls back on this snacking habit only because he sees more of you in them

But he’s not going to stop eating them 

Especially when he finds your attention drifting from him as you crave more socialization 

“As far as I’m concerned all we need is each other. Now do I have to eat this entire village or will you go back to our boat?”

[hencheri]

▸ 18+ mdni.

| pairing. stepbro!xiaojun x fem!reader x stepbro!hendery

| warnings. stepcest, noncon, mean!xiaojun yet once again, degradation, unprotected sex, choking.

| wc. 2k

the whole basement is silent apart from the rustling of your bed sheets and hendery’s heavy breathing on your face. you can almost hear your heartbeat, too. 

you glance at the wide open door of your bedroom, the hallway fully in the dark, the only source of lighting being the one coming from under xiaojun’s door. you gulp down, shutting your eyes as you feel your stepbrother’s lips kissing your neck, eyebrows frowned. his mouth descends to your shoulder, simply covered by the thin strap of your pyjama top. 

his lips are warm and soft, the stumbles on his chin tickling your skin. your stomach churns up, core heating up. your cheeks are on fire and every time you take a look at the doorway, more blood seems to creep up to your poor face.

“hen… please, stop,” you mumble, “dejun’s gonna hear…”

“great,” hendery purrs, lips hovering over your shoulder. “‘cause it’s the closest he’ll ever get to hear you moan.”

your stomach twists into a knot, imagining xiaojun’s frame standing by the door. you’re not sure how he’d react, and quite frankly, you don’t want to discover it, but hendery’s body is holding you down on your bed, unable to move away. 

hendery simply keeps sucking on your neck, his teeth occasionally grazing your flesh. his bleached bangs fall in front of his forehead and touch you on his way to your lips. 

it isn’t the first time hendery’s in your bed, doing things siblings shouldn’t do, but nothing really ever stops him from having what he wants—forbidden or not.

he keeps kissing you until he reaches your stomach, pulling your top up, exposing your soft flesh. your hands go to grab his hair, pulling at it in a way that has hendery groaning against you. he slips your shorts and panties down in one swift motion, not wasting any time to put his mouth on you, devouring you right away. 

you spread your legs wider unconsciously, letting him do what he knows best; be messy. he licks a strip from your hole to the hood of your clit, closing his eyes as he does so. he wraps his lips around your bud of nerves, sucking it into his mouth. your core heats up and you feel little shocks of pleasure going through you. 

hendery moans against you, eyes remaining closed, sucking and lapping at your clit. you can’t help the whines escaping you, and when you realize, you cover your mouth with your hand, glancing outside your room. xiaojun’s door is still shut. 

you melt down, putty in hendery’s hands when he continues his assault on your pussy, messily licking everything he can. as he works his tongue inside your hole, teasing your walls, his nose touches your clit, making your hips instinctively jut forward. 

your grip around his hair tightens, and you feel the coil in your stomach finally snapping, your hand over your mouth muffling down your moans. you push onto his head, forcing him to stay between your legs until your orgasm washes out completely. 

you only realize it’s done when hendery pushes away from you, your hand going back to your side, seeing him licking his lips, the bottom half of his face wet from your slicks. you gulp down, noticing the mean spark in his eyes still hasn’t gone away. 

“fuck, i need you so bad,” he growls before leaning back down, kissing your neck. he quickly lowers down his sweats, gripping his cock at the base. “need that tight little cunt around me.”

you gasp when he pushes inside of you, your eyes averting to the doorway. you relish in the familiar feeling of your walls stretching to his size until your blood runs cold, seeing xiaojun’s door wide open with no sign of him inside. 

avoiding xiaojun was easier than you thought. you did everything to not be at home at the same time as him, taking shifts at your job early in the morning and hanging out with your friends until late in the night when you knew xiaojun would be locked in his room playing video games. 

you’ve seen hendery a few times since. you mentioned the issue, but he only laughed, saying something along the lines of “lucky him”. you doubt, though, that xiaojun would consider himself lucky for catching his brother giving oral to his stepsister.

“mom, where are you? you said you’d come pick me up,” you say into your phone, your arm clutch around your torso, trying to keep yourself warm. your feet shift in the snow, crunching under the sole of your boots. 

“i’m so sorry, honey, but i get off work a little later today…” your mother explains to you as you can hear her typing on her keyboard on the other side of the line. “ask dejun, i think he’s at home.”

you wrinkle your nose at your mother’s proposition. that’s really not a good idea and you can’t really tell your mom why…

“isn’t there anyone else?” you sigh.

“i’m afraid there isn’t. call him, and in the case he can’t, just wait at work. i’ll probably be out around 7.”

you sigh again, this time more dramatically. you hang up and type out a message to your stepbrother. your pulse accelerates slightly, already feeling nervous at the thought of seeing xiaojun after what happened. he answers a minute or so after you sent your text, telling you he’ll be there. 

you wait in the cold, gripping your coat and swinging on your feet until you see xiaojun’s car driving your way. you bite down on your lip when he stops near you, waiting for you to get in. you take a deep breath before pulling the passenger’s door open, sitting down next to him. 

you swallow down, staring in front of you before slowly, reluctantly looking at xiaojun. 

“thank you…” you mumble, trying to take as little space as possible, your knees knocking together. 

he doesn’t bother to look at you, putting the car into drive mode. “don’t mention it,” he replies, staying silent the whole ride, his eyes never leaving the road. 

you feel embarrassed, your cheeks being on fire everytime you remember hendery on top of you, xiaojun’s door open, meaning that he absolutely saw the both of you going at it in your bed. that was so stupid of you. you knew you should've closed the door despite hendery’s disagreement. 

soon enough, you arrive at your house, but when you’re about to get out, xiaojun locks the doors. you’re surprised for a second, feeling your heart pounding in your chest. you’re totally fucked. 

you turn your head to him, eyebrows frowned. “can you… unlock the door?”

for the first time tonight, he looks your way, his eyes meeting yours. his elbow is leaning on the bottom of the window as he touches his chin, momentarily thinking about what he’s going to say to you. 

“you were avoiding me all week-end, weren’t you?” he asks, but he already knows the answer. “too scared to see me after slutting yourself out with the door wide open?”

you’re agape, your doubts confirmed. you shake your head from side to side, speechless. it seems easier to deny everything.

“no you weren’t scared or no you weren’t fucking your brother?”

your eyes widen at the bluntness of his words. xiaojun looks pissed, but he keeps his composure, making him look way more terrifying for some reason. 

you’re about to open your mouth, but he cuts you off immediately. “no need to waste your breath, sweetheart. i know what i saw. was pretty difficult to miss.” he grits his teeth slightly, his eyebrows knitting together, a glint of… vengeance passing through his eyes. 

“... i’m sorry,” you apologize desperately, not knowing what else to do. your eyes start to water, the air in the car becoming thick and tense. 

he snickers, the faintest grin tugging on his lips, “are you, now? didn’t seem like it when you were moaning like a whore, your cunt full of your brother’s cock.” he leans over the centre console, taking a handful of your hair. “do you think he loves you or something?” he says, looking dumbfounded as he lets out a scoff. “he doesn’t, you poor slut. you’re just a pussy to him. accessible to him at all times.”

you reach behind your head, putting your hand over his to try and loosen his grip. “stop it, dejun.” you demand, and he stares at you sternly for a few seconds before letting go of your hair.

“go to the back,” he orders.

“what-”

“go to the fucking back, i said.” xiaojun spits out, glaring at you with all the hate in the world. 

you hold back a cry and straddle the console, landing on the backseats. you watch xiaojun joining you, and you can’t help the tears from falling. 

“why are you fucking crying? i haven't even touched you yet.” 

you recoil as he hovers over you, laying back down, the cold leather seats making you shiver. he has his hands on either side of you and there’s no way for you to escape with how cramped the space in his car is. 

“dejun…” you stress out, the way he’s looking at you not reassuring you one bit. 

his gaze stops at your face, tilting his head and raising his brows. “what? you don’t want it, maybe?” he questions sarcastically. “when you’re actually confronted with the reality of things it’s now that you back up, huh?” he leans down even closer, his lips just beside your ear, “but you won’t get away from this…” he grumbles and you can feel his breath washing over the side of your face. “from me.”

he closes his hand around throat, your eyes widening in worry, looking pitifully at xiaojun in a way that makes him cruelly smile. 

he reaches for your pants with his free hand, unbuttoning your jeans quickly, pulling them down under your ass and exposing you to the cold air—to his ruthless eyes. you clasp your hands around his wrist, begging him. 

“that’s not- that’s not what you wanna do… let’s get inside, okay?” you hope so badly he’ll agree, leave it for now, but you should know that it isn’t his style to give up. 

his hand freezes on your uncovered thigh, fingertips sinking into your flesh with all his strength—and it’s like xiaojun doesn’t even notice. 

he stares at you long before finally scoffing. “get inside? oh, baby…” he coos in faux sympathy. “you think hendery will save you, hm? you think he’ll stop his evil brother from abusing his poor little sister?” your heart shatters, bottom lip trembling from the force of your cries. “wake the fuck up, idiot. he tells me everything about your little hook-ups. he tells me how fucking wet you get from having your pussy fucked. if you think he doesn’t know what i’m doing right now, you’re the dumbest girl i’ve ever met…”

and without any other word, he penetrates you with his cock, pushing until he gets to the hilt. he didn’t even take the time to pull his pants all the way down, his boxers sitting right under his balls. 

you gasp for air as he pounds into you violently, his hand around your throat staying there as a threat, daring you to speak back. you stare into his eyes, wondering where xiaojun—your brother—has gone, but you completely recognize him. 

his pupils blown out, furry in his eyes, a need of revenge—to punish you. xiaojun has always been xiaojun. hendery has always been hendery. both want something they shouldn’t have. and so do you.

[bettymylove]

Can you please do a Theo not fix where the reader is his best friend who he has been in love with his entire life and they are always snuggling and she is always on his lap but then she sees him with some other girl talking being flirty and gets jealous and avoids him and agrees to go on a date with someone else in front of him and he loses it and tells her he is in love with her and it ends in smut?

can I just say I love this ideaaa AAAHH!!

Something

pairing: theo nott x reader

content: read the askk<33 18+ smut

a/n: loved writing thiss

to other people the friendship of you and theo was not what usually friends were, you had no walls up against each other, being completely transparent to each other.

it was kind of a known fact you both harbored some feelings for each other, even though it had never been said however most people keep their distance from both of you.

you were both overly touchy with each other, him always touching you in some way, whether it be a hand on your thigh in class or making you sit on his lap in the common room just so he could bury his face in the crook of your neck, all of this was completely normal to you.

it was after lunch on a friday, all the students were completely free from classes and you decided to utilize this time to finish you assignments so you could enjoy the hogsmeade trip tomorrow.

however reaching the library, you heard theo's laugh, the sound you could recognize anywhere and as soon as you started to walk towards it, you stopped in your won footsteps, since his laugh wasn't the only one, there was one more accompanying him.

he was laughing with another girl.

he was touching her knee and she had her hand on his arm, they were practically lying on each other. The urge you had to finish your schoolwork died, and soon tears began to roll down your cheeks, how could he betray you like this.

theo heard your familiar footsteps and started to follow you, calling your name but you gave no response which was very weird, since you were always cheery to have him around.

this behaviour continued well into the next day, he was ready to go to hogsmeade with you but it seemed like you had other plans, since at breakfast when a boy from ravenclaw had asked you out on a date you had said yes, that too in front of him.

he was confused to say the least, and was looking for an answer, his hand found your forearm when you once again tried to escape.

"so you're really going on a date with him?" he asked in pure shock, not being able to recover from the fact that you had said yes.

"do you have a problem with me going?" you had asked in a snarky voice, still thinking he was behaving irrationally.

"of course, i thought we had something" his tone and face all reflected sadness and pure betrayal, "I had thought that too, until I saw you flirt with that girl in the library yesterday" you had retorted.

"I was trying to get her to do my homework for me, so I could spend more time with you" he said in a gentle voice.

"why do you even care theo that I'm going on a date it's not like we're dating" you longed for an answer, to have some official word for whatever your relationship was.

"because i love you", he said in a slightly raised voice, "it's so obvious i do, everyone knows it and you should too, i love you y/n"

he leaned down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss, like you wished he would, pushing you back on the wall near you which secluded you from everyone.

his kisses started trailing downwards, he was sucking on your neck while his hands were all over your body, he soon went down on his knees, staring up at you, "let me show you how much you mean to me."

please was the only word leaving your mouth, which was soon replaced with moans as soon as his tongue touched you, swirling around, he was practically devouring you, urging you to come undone on his face.

"let it go baby, come on my face" and so you did chanting his name as if it was only thing you knew in this world.

"theo, please for merlin's sake fuck me" and he couldn't deny your pretty face unbuttoning your shirt, but still not letting it fall he started leaving marks all over there as well.

you had unbuckled his belt and soon got his cock out, it was red at the tip leaking some precum and you couldn't help but move your hands up and down on it.

he had soon took both your hands and pinned them above your head, urging you to jump and as soon as you did, he had his dick inside of you.

he was thrusting so hard and so fast that you could see stars already, moaning his name while he was still kissing your neck, it was all you could have imagined.

"theo, I'm gonna come" you had managed to say between gaspy breaths, and he had urged you to do so, since he was on the verge itself.

he had finished inside you filling you up to the brim, and you felt content with him.

"so, I hope you're gonna cancel the date" he said and you only laughed in response.