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#I'm trying not to give too many spoilers
thequeenofthewinter · 11 months
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Hi again :D
Can you share with us a few of your favorite scenes so far from either of your fic? Stuff that really brings out the characterization of Dahlia and any of the others?
What are some things you've learned from writing these scenes, or writing in general? What is the next thing you'd like to work on improving in your writing?
and lastly -- I asked this of Para, too, and I'm interested! -- what advice would you give to your younger writing self now that you're where you are in your journey?
Hiiiiiiii friend! <3 Ooooh, let me go digging a bit here…
I think I will feed you a couple of snippets which exhibit a few different states of Dahlia’s being. (I am sure there are others or even some better ones somewhere, but this is what came to mind at the moment.)
1.) As she listens to the quiet crunching of snow under her feet, she thinks about all of the things she has done recently and all of the things she will need to accomplish. Where is she going, and what is her role in all of this? Is it truly Akatosh and the Divines who push her forward, and is this where she is meant to be and what she is meant to be doing? She often wonders about the invisible strings of fate and how it seems like they constantly drive her onward. This frequently leads her to contemplate how much of her own life choices are really hers, and how many were preordained or destined. Maybe it sounds lofty and self-important to think that the Divines have taken so much interest in her life and what she does, but she can’t help but wonder. And she is indeed Akatosh’s chosen.
As much as she has grown and enjoyed the adventure, she resents the heavy burden which seems to constantly sit like a weight on her shoulders and the feeling that her life isn’t her own. Sometimes she wishes she could reach out and talk to Akatosh like a father. Perhaps this is something she should have expressed to Paarthurnax when she was still at the top of the mountain. Dahlia sighs deeply. Having decided that she has caused herself enough of an existential crisis for the time being, she glances at her surroundings, taking it all in before she sucks in a deep breath and lets loose WULD NAH KEST.
2.) Well, that was certainly close.” Dahlia says in relief as she reveals herself from her hiding spot behind the bookshelf Ulfric is standing by.
Ulfric turns around quickly with surprise. She was here the whole time? How could he have missed her?
Dahlia puts a finger up to her lips to signal to the Jarl not to give up her location. As soon as Lydia’s footsteps are no longer echoing through the halls, she sighs and slumps against the shelf behind her, finally relaxing.
“Are you hiding from your housecarl?” Ulfric asks. “Maybe I should call her back.” He grins at her with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
“No, please no!” She waves her hands in front of her frantically, and Ulfric chuckles. “She wants to put me through all sorts of torture with hair and shoes which I find thoroughly unnecessary and rather tedious.” She pleads with him. “She is very bossy when she wants to be, and I have no intention of participating any further in her schemes. I’ve already indulged her enough.” She states as she creeps carefully to the library’s door and pokes her head outside.
3.) Waves of pain and anguish at what she has done begin flooding her system. She can still feel her hands tingling with the phantom sensation of lingering shock spells. She shakes them as if that will dispel the feeling and clean her conscience of what has transpired. 
Nothing. She can still feel it. She will always be able to feel it; there is no escape.
Everywhere she looks, and especially inside herself, all she sees is darkness. What is this beast, this monster she has become?
She is nothing. She is cold. She is darkness.
In her need for protection, domination, and revenge, she had forgotten herself and who she is. 
She was not Dahlia in this moment. She was Ysmir, Dragon of the North, and her only thought was how dare anyone think they could touch what is hers. 
Dahlia roars with an inconsolable despair, words she never knew in the dragon tongue falling like water fluidly from her lips. 
Alone. 
She needs to be alone. Deserves to be alone. There is nothing good about her anymore. The darkness swallowed up all her light, and it is all she can see now. 
Alone. 
She needs to run. Needs to hide. Needs to disappear. 
Alone. 
Because no one should want to be with someone like her.
Dahlia looks down at her hands again and seeing the blood coating them, she lets out a sob. She is horrified. What has she done? And what would Ulfric think of her? Her mother? The Greybeards? Colette? The citizens of Skyrim? She is supposed to be a hero, and she is anything but. 
What are some things you've learned from writing these scenes, or writing in general? 
Oooof, well, I have definitely learned a lot through the whole experience of writing in general. Specifically, I think I learned to just let things flow and try to draw from the gut and trust my instincts. I was extremely cautious at first when I started writing (for many reasons.) And now it’s just nice to kind of let things find themselves and have fun in the process. I won’t say that I don’t still sometimes stress over the things I write, but I think what I write now is more natural now because of this—and I have more fun with it. 
What is the next thing you'd like to work on improving in your writing?
Is everything too broad of an answer? I know a lot of us creatives suffer from the “we’re too hard on ourselves” syndrome, I am not immune. I know there are a lot of things I could go back and improve upon when I have time later. Right now, I think my focus is on making sure I am not using too many participle clauses (I love them, your honor) and trying to make sure I am showing and not telling too frequently. Yes, yes. I know that it’s the standard advice and complaint of many who give writing advice, but I try to follow it anyway. I think if I had to mention one more thing: trying not to get wrapped up in my own love of self-indulgent drama. 
What advice would you give to your younger writing self now that you're where you are in your journey?
Relax, have fun, and don’t be afraid of what you’re creating. It’s all wonderful. The journey is an enjoyable one, and you’ll learn and improve on a lot of things on your way. Don’t stress about the mess and that everything isn’t “perfect”. It doesn’t need to be. (Actually, I should also take this advice for myself right now. It’s always needed tbh.)
And I think as much as you are aware now that I am a hybrid pantser/plotter, I might argue that perhaps I should do a little more of the plotting thing. (Just a smidge. I still do love discovery writing.)
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cerealbishh · 2 months
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"The world's lucky to have you."
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softpine · 1 year
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what if i said finn was bill and asa was frank................ what then........................
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sysig · 5 months
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Ughhhhhhh
#I just......wanted to work on some new video editing techniques..........#Spoiler: It went........so fucking bad lol#Like restart my computer because it basically stopped functioning bad#That seems like a non sequitor but believe me getting from A to Z was an awful ordeal#I've been curious for a while if I could sync up my footage to the audio - y'know cut the video up in time with the music! Classic#Normally I'd fall back on WMM but it has this annoying desync glitch(?) where it renders everything correctly but previews it out of time#So trying to line up the visuals to the audio - well I have to restart and listen through everything so far for it to align properly :/#Lightworks is being a bitch as well - I guess it just stopped?? having a feature that it had a couple years ago that controls clip length#So I get random-length clips! That I can't stretch or extend! Y'know - The Thing I need to do!#I also tried Openshot and by about the point the advice had me changing my security settings I noped out#Literally would crash if I tried to import one (1) .png >:P#And I'm not about to give my info to Yet Another freeware like DaVinci Resolve since it went So Well with Lightworks#Didn't stop me from downloading and installing the wrong version for like an hour which Greatly lagged out my computer#And then as said it was the wrong version even if I did have access to it so I wouldn't be able to use it anyway!#How come we have such good opensource video capture and streaming software like OBS#And like LibreOffice for word processing and Audacity for audio and just - so many good opensource programs!#But video editing is a step too far#Ugh#Today's been a wash >:/#At least my uptime is all shiny sparkly new for streaming maybe tomorrow lol#I dunno it depends on how sleep goes - y'know how it is after being frustrated for so long#I really wanted to! I wanted to do a lot of things >:(#I'll see how it all goes#Guess I'm going back to WMM - ugh - once I've properly cooled down and Actually Prepared for the slog#If anyone has any video editing software recommendations I am all ears tho#Obviously not any of the ones mentioned here as they Did Not Work lol#I just want........an intuitive place where I can drag-and-drop images and be able to crop their length up or down to the audio#Hell I'll take a patch for the desync if such a thing exists lol - looks like it's been a problem for like 10 years! Hgg#I just want to Make Thing In Head happen! It is not a lack of will! I am 100% blaming my tools on this one lol#I'm an amateur video editor I have the right to be whiny! I want a tool that isn't hell to operate! JFLHFJKLFHIOSEJF Anyway lol
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cagedchoice · 2 years
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listen i don’t necessarily have any ideas for how i would do a star wars verse right now but that will not stop me from wanting to eventually write it anyway
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violetrainbow412-blog · 5 months
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A fair payment [W. W.]
Willy Wonka x fem!reader
word count: 1.5k
People who might be interested: @strugglingwriterwattpad @cattail5 [Timothée masterlist]
some minor Wonka spoilers I guess! If you like it, tell me in the comments, that will make me happy :)
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“Can you mend it?” Willy asked, carefully holding his emerald green jacket that had the sleeve seam torn.
The boy had arrived a couple of weeks ago to turn the world of everyone present in the laundry upside down and, honestly, you were already beginning to enjoy his presence. You looked in the background at the blackboard that Noodle used at night to give him lessons in the hope that he would learn to read because, according to the girl's words, because of that he was almost eaten by a tiger. But in the man's words, what was important was the almost part. 
However, tonight he had asked you especially to go to his room, because he had a problem that he thought only you could solve.
“I think so, I just have to pass the needle a couple of times” you smiled.
Since your arrival Mrs. Scrubbit had used your sewing skills for her own benefit, because after all you had ended up in that mess trying to save a little to be able to buy the necessary materials to make a pretty dress that would be worth enough to advance in the business. Although, obviously, that had not been possible.
"Thank you! I'm afraid that's my only jacket."
“It will be ready in no time. I’ll just go to my room and come back, okay?” you said kindly, placing the garment in the boy's lap and earning a sweet smile from the aforementioned.
Just as Willy had his little briefcase for his chocolates, you had your own, full of threads, needles, and buttons, which you just had to grab from the floor to get everything you needed. When you arrived back you settled at the little table and he remained attentive to your every movement, pulling out a chair so he could observe what you were about to do.
“There was a boy on the ship who helped me with these things,” he began to tell you, keeping his curious nose on your shoulder “But I never thought about learning. You know, for when I had to be alone”
“Well, it's lucky you ended up here. We are a curious collection of workers,” you murmured ironically, referring to all the people gathered there against their will by the work of fate "What did you do on the ship?"
"Cook. Mostly sweet things, but I also know a couple of useful non-chocolate-related recipes. I was the chef,” he said, and you laughed at the exaggerated way he pronounced the last bit.
Willy began to tell you about some of the adventures he had had on the high seas and you listened attentively as the tip of the needle went in and out to join the fabric. It only took a few minutes to get his clothes looking like new, taking the liberty of repairing other places that also needed it.
“Put it on,” you asked, trying not to look at him too much when he did so or pay attention to the way the jacket fit him perfectly.
"It is perfect! You can't even tell it was torn, huh?” he said with emotion, feeling with his hands as much as he could. “How much do I owe you?”
“Oh, it's nothing.”
“I insist,” the man murmured. His curly hair bounced across his cheeks as he sat next to you and he lifted his small briefcase off the floor, opening it to reveal all the little bottles of ingredients. “Your talent for mine. It's a fair exchange."
You had to admit that the chocolates you had eaten were a complete delicacy, but a part of you didn't want to get used to that luxury or you knew that when Willy was gone you would miss his sweetness. In the literal and figurative sense.
Locked in that laundry it was impossible to meet many people your age and Noodle was your greatest company, as if he were a little sister to you. But now that he was there, there was a certain happiness in chatting with him, much more now that his ingenious mind had devised a way to get you out of there even if it was just for a few hours to see the light of day and get coins from the sale of the chocolates to free you of the enormous debt to Mrs. Scrubbit.
“What flavor do you want to try today? Do you want me to add some unicorn skin glitter? Rays of sunlight from a twilight on the seashore? Tears of an African crocodile?”
“Just give me something you think I need,” you replied softly.
Willy thought about it for a moment, because it wasn't the kind of answer he would have expected. What was he supposed to give you that night? A little hope? Happiness? Nostalgia? It was difficult to decide.
Through his bright eyes you watched him reflect and just a second later his hands began to work. You noticed there was a hint of mischief in his smile as he poured milk, chocolate, and the contents of a couple of jars into the processor, glancing at you from the corner of his eye from time to time.
“What are you going to do when we get out of here?” he asked suddenly, not neglecting the tasks.
“Working in a sewing workshop, I guess.”
“Why don't you open your own fashion house?” Willy suggested carefreely, as if it were a very easy thing to do, “You are a great dressmaker.”
“And you are a great dreamer”
“It's my best quality,” he exclaimed, almost offended. You waited a moment before answering.
“I just don't think it's that simple. It requires effort, time, and a lot of money…”
“We will have everything,” he interrupted you, with that optimism that characterized him. Suddenly he stopped what he was doing and one of his hands traveled to take yours. “When I open my factory, we will all be able to fulfill our dreams. And you are going to have a fashion house, I promise you.”
“You make a lot of promises,” you responded, blushing.
“And he planned to fulfill them all. I always do it"
Maybe there was something about the softness of his grip on your hand or perhaps the sparkle in his eyes that made you look away out of sheer nervousness. He seemed to be good and innocent, to the point that he probably didn't even realize how close he was to you or how inappropriate the position would be if Noodle ever walked in.
A tap interrupted your moment and then he abruptly pulled away, excited to show you the product he had just made. It was a pretty circular candy that was bright pink and seemed to be emanating smoke from the inside.
"What's that?"
“You'll have to try it to find out,” he murmured, as he extended the treat in your direction.
You had to admit that you were somewhat curious to discover what the man was offering you, so you took it between your fingers carefully, and even under his watchful gaze you took a bite.
At first it tasted like ordinary chocolate, but then it took on a strange tone, which made you feel a certain warmth in your chest that spread to your cheeks. It was a most pleasant feeling, like bubbly joy combined with the embarrassment of a hug.
You thought for a moment about what flavor that could be, without any success, until after a few seconds you realized that it wasn’t a flavor in itself, but a feeling, an experience... Was it love that Willy had given you?
“How does it taste?”
“Yummy,” you responded, covering your mouth so he wouldn’t see the wet chocolate on your tongue, but also to hide your smile “Delicious, actually. What does it contain?”
“A special and secret ingredient”
"Oh, come on! Aren’t you going to tell me?”
“I just want to know if I got it right,” he murmured and you frowned slightly, not understanding him “About what you asked for. Did I give you something you needed?”
You had to bite your lip to keep from smiling again, your cheeks feeling hot from the simple fact that he was looking at you. You thought that this could even be a love potion that you had consumed without thinking about it, just because he was the one who was offering it to you.
“We could say yes”
“We're even, then,” he exclaimed as he waved the sleeve of his jacket and you nodded in amusement, eating the rest of the chocolate he had made for you.
A yawn leaving your lips made you aware of how exhausted you were and although you didn't love the idea, you knew it was time to leave.
“It's late, I should go to sleep before we wake anyone up.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Willy said quickly, getting up from his seat to accompany you to the exit. “I'll see you tomorrow.”
“Rest,” you said kindly, and, gathering courage, you leaned forward a little to say goodbye with a hug that he gladly returned.
As you walked down the hall to your shabby, damp room, you thought that it probably wouldn't have even taken a love potion to fall for the charms of the pleasant chocolatier. You just needed one of his smiles.
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inkskinned · 1 year
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i think one of the reasons glass onion is so fun is that it just... loves the audience back.
so many popular movies and shows these days thrive on a sort of bitter engagement with their fans - where the fans are dismissed as being stupid, annoying, and needlessly angry. we are constantly positioned as being less intelligent as the writers.
so much of "spoiler-free" movie-making relies on writers getting away with one twist in their work, regardless of if that twist was earned. the work doesn't actually have any rewatch value or interesting writing - because they think "good writing" is about "pulling one over" on the audience. they don't focus on making interesting characters or storylines or good endings - they focus on fooling you. glass onion, meanwhile, has faith that the audience has figured the ending out, and that we'll watch anyway, because we love the characters.
so many adaptions of older works... kind of seem to hate the original work. they're done without passion. they're done almost as if checking off a box. so many of them openly mock the audience for enjoying the original, almost directly telling us that we are fools for ever having loved something.
but glass onion. loves the audience. it knows that many of the people watching are mystery-lovers. it is an homage that feels love towards the original works it references. it knows we also love those works; and instead of trying to disparage those works, it allows us to celebrate them.
one of my favorite things about it - and maybe why i found it so satisfying - is that this movie isn't trying to tell you it's the smartest, bestest, most-clever detective story. instead, it asks itself what is satisfying and exciting for the audience? and actually gives us that payoff. it's bright, colorful, and fucking fun.
just... more of this please. i'm very bored of nihilism and grittiness and "shock value" writing. put the love back in. let us love unironically. have your work say i love you too. thank you for sharing this story.
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neil-gaiman · 10 months
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This may very well get lost in the flood, but if you see this, I just wanted to say that there were a lot of things I thought I wanted for good omens 2 (a happy ending for one, of course!)
But my favourite thing that a writer can do to my experience of a story is to make me go "okay forget EVERYTHING I said before, this is the outcome I didn't know I needed." This show took my hopes and said "no u don't actually :) i got something better" and it had the audacity to be SO RIGHT.
The finale I *thought* I wanted would have probably had me giggling and kicking my feet and then moving on with my day while in a bright mood for a bit.
The finale I got had me absolutely devastated, inconsolable for maybe an hour, and then just...immediately rewatching. And talking about it behind a fortress of spoiler tags. And writing, and drawing, and being invested in theories and trying to find all the easter eggs and just...falling in love with the story and the characters all over again. And I can tell that feeling will stay with me for a whole lot longer than a couple days.
I'm bad at brevity, I apologize! This is just a very long-winded way to say thank you (and thank you to everyone else on the team) for giving us these idiots (affectionately) to have Way Too Many Feelings about!! Thank you for sharing them with us.
I'm running GO in the background, crossing my fingers and looking forward to a season 3—whether or not it'll be what I'm *hoping* for, I am just beyond excited for whatever story it is that you want to tell us, and I trust that whatever it is, it will be wonderfully told! 🩶🩶
(But also, please, for your consideration...I am in fact soft and innocent, I can only take so much damage before I cry myself to critical dehydration—do with that what you must, I shall leave my electrolyte balance in your hands and hope for mercy. You did say everything would be okay, and thankfully we all know a writer would never lie!)
I wouldn't lie about that, anyway.
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joelscruff · 1 year
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one day i'll feel alright (joel miller x reader) 18+
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here it is... the Big One. i've been hyping up this part of my soft!dom joel series for a while now (probably too much, i'm sorry) but i'm so excited to finally share it with you guys. i just wanna note that this is not the end of soft!dom joel by any means. i wanna keep writing for these two as long as i can, just probably nothing else as long as this lmao 💖 enjoy! | masterlist summary: joel must finally face his demons when you don't return from patrol. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: fem!reader, age difference (reader is mid 20s, joel mid 50s), dom/sub dynamics (joel is dominant but not degrading or aggressive), hurt/comfort, angst, praise kink, dirty talk, bathing together, oral (both f and m receiving), unprotected p in v sex, size kink, orgasm denial, comeplay, come eating, yall this one is SO filthy be warned word count: 15k | ao3 spoilers: this contains vague spoilers for part two of the video game (and most likely for season two of the show). nothing too major (joel does NOT go golfing in this fic).
The patrol schedule is posted on Monday morning outside the community center and you're one of the first people to look at it, eyes frantically scanning for your name as your heart pounds in your chest. There's no way, you think to yourself, still searching, He wouldn't actually talk to Tommy about a schedule change.
You finally find your name and feel those annoyingly familiar angry tears begin to burn in your eyes.
"Fuck you," you mutter under your breath, shaking your head, "Fuck you, Joel."
You're no longer his patrol partner.
You briefly consider going to his house, pounding on his door until he answers and screaming in his face about how ridiculous and immature he's being, but you realize that doing so would make you just as immature. Instead, you just decide to pretend it never happened, like you never patrolled with him to begin with.
"Steve is nice," one of your friends says to you later, "I like him, you'll get along."
Who the fuck is Steve? you want to ask, but then remember that it's his name that has replaced Joel's on the schedule. To make matters even worse, you're no longer going up to the ski lodge and are instead going out past the perimeter, a patrol location known to encounter raiders pretty often. Fantastic.
--
The next time you see him is that night in the dining hall, sitting in his usual corner by himself and gulping down bites of chili like he hasn't eaten in weeks. It used to be endearing, those big bites, now it just pisses you off.
He doesn't look at you. Over the past few weeks you'd grown accustomed to him peering over at you every so often, giving you small smiles to acknowledge that he saw you and remembered what the two of you shared every weekend. Neither of you would talk about it; it was private and belonged on the mountain, which you were fine with. At least he'd give you those looks, those smiles, and remind you that you were his pretty girl, his little secret.
Now his lack of acknowledgement, his purposeful ignorance of your presence, it makes you feel sick. You end up having to excuse yourself before you do something you'll regret. Like punch someone.
--
Steve is nice, but that's your first immediate problem with him. He's too nice. He talks too much, constantly trying to fill a silence that doesn't need it, asks you way too many questions and doesn't seem even vaguely put-out when you give him the most basic possible answers. He's young, probably in his mid-thirties, and you find yourself desperately missing the long and comfortable silences you shared with Joel, his gruff sighs, his breathy chuckles, his music, his books, his age. You realize pretty quickly that you view Steve as a boy and not a man, despite him being older than you. Internally, you tell yourself you need to get a grip.
Your new patrol location isn't as bad as you'd first thought; you're stationed in an abandoned cabin in a wooded area past the perimeter. It's cozy and inviting, kind of reminds you of the ski lodge, which quickly makes you feel depressed. You both take turns circling the area - although at first Steve had suggested you do it together; you'd vetoed that immediately. Your main responsibilities are checking traps and watching out for infected. It's actually a bit more engaging than your previous patrol which you feel slightly grateful for; it's nice to feel busy. And to shut your thoughts up.
At the end of your first patrol with Steve you both walk back to Jackson together in the early morning, him still continuing to chat and tell you things about himself regardless of whether you respond. You're almost back to town when you notice that you're suddenly on the same path you and Joel used to take, the one that leads up to the mountain. You stop in your tracks.
"What time is it?" you ask, interrupting whatever Steve had been prattling on about.
He looks down at his watch, "Almost six," he smiles at you, "We'll be back just in time for breakfast."
Almost six; around the time you and Joel would usually be reaching the bottom of the mountain. Your eyes scan the tree line, brow furrowing as you search for any sign of him making his way down the path. Steve stands there awkwardly, waiting for you to say something.
"Should we...?" he gestures toward the path you're both on, toward town, and you bite your lip in thought.
"Just gimme a sec," you say quickly, still searching, "I wanna say hi to my old patrol partner."
"Aw, that's sweet," he says with a smile, and it's so earnest and endearing that you can't necessarily be annoyed, "My old patrol partner, we-" he starts chatting again, buying you some more time.
Not more than a moment later, two figures suddenly emerge from the trees: Joel and Tommy. You feel your heart start to pound as they walk down the path, neither seeing you and Steve standing there until they're almost directly in front of you. They're caught up in some kind of deep conversation, you might even call it an argument judging by Tommy's stiffness and Joel's flared nostrils.
Tommy sees you first, giving you a wave and a smile, then nudging Joel. Joel follows Tommy's eyeline and suddenly freezes in his tracks, standing still on the path while Tommy continues to approach you.
"Good patrol?" he asks, nodding to Steve, "No trouble?"
"No, sir," Steve says, eager and polite, kind of like a golden retriever puppy, "No problems whatsoever."
"Glad to hear it," he looks at you again, "Hey, mind if we meet later for a chat?"
You wonder if he wants to chat about whatever he'd just been arguing about with Joel. Intrigued, you nod, "Sure."
Joel reaches you then, pace slow and hesitant. You turn to look at him, trying not to let the anger you feel toward him completely overtake you; the last thing you need right now is to either start crying or yelling.
"Hey," you say with a stiff nod.
"Hi!" Steve says beside you, and you try not to wince as he puts his hand out, waiting for Joel to take it, "I'm Steve."
Joel simply stares at him, then his hand, and then looks at you, eyes dark and cold. His gaze slips between the two of you back and forth for a few seconds, expression unreadable, then continues down the path without speaking.
"Meet me by the stream 'round noon, alright?" Tommy says, backing away to follow Joel, "I'll bring you lunch."
You watch as he catches up to Joel, says something to him, but Joel doesn't respond and just keeps on walking ahead, pace quicker and quicker. You're still just standing there watching their forms get smaller when Steve finally speaks again:
"He's...uh...friendly."
You laugh without humor, hitching your pack up your shoulder and starting to walk, "Oh, you have no idea."
--
You meet Tommy around noon by the stream like he'd asked, crossing the bridge and giving him a small wave of acknowledgement as you approach. He's got a paper bag with him; lunch, just like he'd promised.
"Tuna fish," he says with a kind smile, chuckling at the face you make as he hands the bag to you, "It was either that or egg salad."
"The dining hall must stink today," you reply with a scrunch of your nose, but you take the bag gratefully, "Thanks, Tommy."
"No problem," he gestures toward the bench he's sitting on, inviting you to join him, "Let's talk."
He talks and you mainly listen, nodding along every so often and chewing your tuna sandwich thoughtfully. He starts by thanking you for "everything" you did for him and Maria, which you quickly dodge because all you'd done is take a patrol off his hands - a patrol that's gone back to being his again, but he doesn't mention that part. He talks about how big a help you've been, how he's glad you're here, all the basic stuff he's already told you before. You're almost done your sandwich when you realize he's talking complete bullshit.
"Tommy," you say, balling the paper bag up and shoving it into your pocket, "If you wanna talk about Joel, just do it."
He freezes, recognition dawning in his eyes as he sighs and presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose. It's a habit he and Joel share, and you can't help but feel an ache in your heart when the image of Joel doing the same thing crosses your mind.
"I'm sorry about the switch," he finally says with a deep sigh, "Joel told me to do it. Not asked, told. He was pretty obstinate, told me it wasn't workin' between you two anymore and he wasn't gonna stay on ski lodge if you were there."
The words sting, even coming from Tommy. You swallow the last of your sandwich and cast your eyes down to the stream, watching the water ebb and flow as Tommy continues to speak.
"I just want you know that if I had it my way, you'd still be up there with him," he says it earnestly, and you understand now why he'd led with all the compliments and reassurances; he'd thought you didn't know why you'd been switched.
"I know," you say quietly, "Tommy, I know it was Joel's idea. He told me last patrol that he was gonna ask you to take me off ski lodge."
"But why?" he sounds genuinely confused, "It was working so well, Maria and I thought you had a great thing goin'."
You nod slowly, refusing to look at him, "We did. But I guess he never told you any details?"
You sense him shake his head beside you, "No, I spent almost the whole patrol trying to get him to talk about it and he wouldn't. Just kept saying it wouldn't work anymore and that he wasn't gonna say anythin' else about it. Stubborn, my brother. Always has been."
I know, you want to say, believe me, I know.
"So I figured I'd ask you."
You finally look over at him then, "There's not much to say, Tommy."
"But there's somethin'," he leans forward, looking concerned, "I know my brother, I know when he's hidin' somethin'. There's somethin' he's not telling me and I want you to tell me 'cause otherwise I'm just gonna assume the worst."
"Which is...?"
He sighs, leaning back against the bench again, "I don't even know."
You touch the back of your neck awkwardly, trying to decide how to word it. There's absolutely no way you're giving him all the details - or any details for that matter - but you do owe him some kind of explanation considering he's now losing his free time again over this.
"Me and Joel, we..." you bite your lip, "We had...." you sigh and shake your head, "Okay, what I'm about to say does not leave this bench, Tommy. You can tell Maria but that's it."
"Oh shit," he says, eyes going wide, "Were y'all fuckin' up there?"
You groan, leaning forward as your arms fall to your knees and you cover your face with your hands. He's not necessarily correct, but somehow the reality is much more embarrassing to admit. You don't say anything in response, confirming his suspicions.
"Jesus Christ," he says, voice full of genuine surprise, "I was...holy shit, I was not expectin' that."
"Anyway," you say into your hands, skin turning bright red beneath your fingertips, "It's over now and he doesn't want me up there with him anymore, that's all you need to know, okay?"
"Yeah," Tommy says immediately, "Yeah, sure, of course. I wouldn't dream of -" he makes a weird noise, "God, I did not think that's what was goin' on."
"Sorry," you wince, pulling your hands away and sitting up again to look at him. He looks genuinely uncomfortable, arms crossed as he shifts next to you on the bench, cogs turning in his mind. He's probably thinking about what exactly the two of you have been doing up there when you're supposed to be patrolling and the very thought makes both of you cringe simultaneously.
"No, don't apologize, I asked," he shakes his head again, eyes still wide, "I, uh, I won't tell anybody, no worries."
"You can tell Maria," you reiterate, "I don't want you keeping anything from your wife."
"I'll tell her but I doubt she'll believe me," he's staring ahead, still in shock, "You? With Joel? I'm sorry but..." he laughs loudly, still shaking his head, "I didn't think my brother had it in him."
You make a face and stand up, "Okay, that's my cue to leave."
"No, sorry, I'll leave," he stands up as well and digs his hands down into his pockets awkwardly, "I'll uh... be at the bar, if you need me."
He goes to cross the bridge but stops halfway, turning slowly and giving you one last kind and gentle look, apologetic.
"Hey, I'm sorry it didn't work out," he says, and you can tell he means it, "You're real sweet, my brother's just an ass."
"I know," you say with a small nod, "You did warn me."
"I did," he says it sadly, looking down at the stream, "He has his reasons, though. Maybe he'll tell you one day."
"Maybe."
He turns back around and walks away, leaving you standing there alone by the stream with an ache in your heart that won't go away.
He was pretty obstinate, Tommy's words echo in your head, told me it wasn't workin' between you two anymore and he wasn't gonna stay on ski lodge if you were there.
You stare at the steady flowing water and try not to think about how much it hurts to know he really said that to Tommy. Is that how little you mean to him? How little what the two of you shared meant? You've known the whole time that it wasn't a "real" relationship, you haven't even kissed him for god's sake, but it was a relationship nonetheless. A little weird, a little timid, but soft and new and safe and warm. And all along you'd just been a distraction for him.
In the deepest parts of yourself you've known this all along, remembered how many times in the past few weeks he said that it would be the last time, that he couldn't do it anymore, and you'd just continued to persist and persist until he'd finally had enough. You hadn't really thought he'd end it, didn't think he really meant it.
The tears start flowing before you can stop them. You continue to just stand there dejectedly, staring at the water and trying to figure out what exactly it is about you that made him simply stop caring - if he even cared to begin with.
A rustle of branches makes you jump and your head snaps up, looking toward the sound. A short distance away you catch a bush moving in an unnatural sort of way, shaking back and forth like someone had been watching from behind it. Quickly, you dash forward and pull the leaves apart to find the culprit.
No one's there.
Hurriedly you wipe your face and walk across the bridge, shoving your hands back in your pockets and hoping someone hasn't just witnessed your moment of weakness. And if they have, they'd better keep it to themselves.
--
Another week passes without any acknowledgement from Joel. You decide to stop eating in the dining hall because it hurts too much, instead grabbing your meals to-go and eating them either in your house or by the stream. On one occasion you'd arrived at the stream at the same time Ellie had decided to sit and practice guitar, freezing in place when you saw her. You hadn't spoken since that one very brief conversation months ago when she'd asked about your scars. You hadn't known then what you know now.
"Hey," she'd said with a nod, then went back to strumming aimlessly on her guitar, "You can eat your lunch here, I don't mind."
You'd shaken your head and taken a step back, "No, that's okay, sorry," then you'd turned and practically run away from her, not entirely sure why.
She reminds you of Joel, you dummy, you'd thought to yourself on the walk back home, biting down on your lip and trying to keep the tears at bay this time. Everything reminds you of Joel.
--
On Saturday morning you hear a knock at your door. You're still in bed, confused and bleary eyed as you sit up and wait to hear it again, just to be sure you're not still dreaming. When you hear a second series of knocks you practically tumble out of the bed and run downstairs, blanket trailing behind you as you dart to the front door.
It's Joel, it has to be Joel, he's here to apologize, he's gonna kiss you and tell you he's sorry.
You yank open the door and feel your face fall immediately when you see none other than Steve standing there, hands on his hips. He grins at you but it falters slightly when he looks down and sees that you're still in your pajamas.
"Morning, sleepy head," he greets you, reaching forward to playfully bump your arm with his fist, "Looks like someone missed their alarm."
You stare at him, vision still slightly blurred from sleep. You reach up to rub your eyes so you can see him clearer, make sure he's actually standing there in front of you. Yup, he is.
You force yourself to smile back - something which takes a lot of effort but he seems to find genuine - and reply, "My bad, I guess I did."
"No worries," he says with another wide grin, "We got some time before we need to leave, no rush!"
You force one last smile and shut the door in his face, trying not to slam it - even though you really want to. You look at the clock on the wall over your fireplace and make a face: 4:30. He woke you up at 4:30, half an hour before your alarm.
"Steve, I swear to god," you grumble to yourself, heading for the bathroom as you drop your blanket to the floor and clamor back up the stairs; there's no point in going back to sleep, you're wide awake now and pissed.
You know who'd never do this? Joel.
After a shower and a quick bowl of cereal you head back out to meet Steve, prepared to put on your best everything is great impression again. You stop dead in your tracks as soon as you open your door.
"Listen, sir, I think you should leave," Steve is saying, voice cracking slightly as he talks to the figure in front of him.
It's still dark outside; the sun hasn't come up yet and everything is muted and hard to make out. It takes you a few seconds to figure out who Steve is talking to, the figure shrouded in shadow and half hidden behind Steve's tall form. You feel your face go pale when you hear him reply.
"You didn't answer my question," the growl is unmistakably Joel's and you grip the edge of the door in your hands tightly, not opening it all the way as you eavesdrop. What the fuck is he doing here? What question?
"I don't think I owe you a reply," Steve replies, attempting to stand his ground but sounding pretty pathetic, voice shaky and high, "I think you should move along, sir."
"What the fuck are you doing at this girl's house at four in the fucking morning?" Joel practically spits, taking a step toward Steve. In response, Steve takes a step backward. He's not a confrontational guy, you know that from the one patrol you've spent with him, "Answer me."
"I'm her patrol partner," Steve finally says, putting his hands up in defeat, "I'm waiting for her to get ready."
"Patrols don't start 'til five thirty."
"It's true, I swear, you literally met me last week!"
That seems to stump Joel, and he must be trying to figure out what to say next when you shove the door open and walk out onto your porch.
"Joel, what the fuck are you doing?" you ask, voice steady and firm. He looks over at you in surprise, backing away from Steve. Is it just your imagination or did his expression soften when he saw you? But that doesn't matter now.
You walk down the steps of your patio and stand in front of Steve, shoving him behind you lightly, "Steve, I'll meet you at the gate," you say firmly.
"But-"
"Steve. Please leave. I'll meet you in a few minutes."
"...Okay," you can't see him but you hear him walk away from you, trudging down the gravel path in the opposite direction. Once his footsteps are faint enough, you finally address Joel again.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" you repeat, "Why are you berating Steve in front of my house?"
"Who the fuck is Steve?" Joel asks; the question of the hour.
"My patrol partner," you reply, shaking your head, "I mean, you should probably know that seeing as you're the one who switched with him."
"I don't know who I switched with, Tommy did that," he retorts, looking away from you, down at his boots, "Wasn't my decision."
"Right, 'cause nothing's ever your fault, right?"
He looks back up, a glint of emotion in his eyes that you've seen only once before, "You have no fucking idea," he says, voice heavy and gruff, "Don't even-"
"Don't even what, Joel? You're the one standing in front of my house at the ass crack of dawn yelling at some guy you've never even talked to before. Steve's actually great, by the way," you're laying it on thick but you don't care; you want him to think you've moved on, "Patrolling with him is much better than patrolling with you."
He raises an eyebrow, "Is that so?"
"Yeah," you lie, cheeks going red with anger, "He actually talks to me."
"And fucks you, I gather?" he says it with a hard edge that makes your blood run cold.
You stand there just staring at him, mouth agape as he lets what he just said wash over you. You inhale and exhale deeply, feeling those godforsaken tears sting in your eyes as you take a step away from him, genuinely fearful that you might end up slapping him or punching him or doing something you shouldn't.
"Fuck you," your voice is small and broken and the tears are already flowing, "Fuck you, Joel."
His expression changes then, and you know an apology is coming. You put your hand up before he can speak, shaking your head.
"Don't," you say, firm and solid, not bothering to wipe your tears as they flick off your face into the grass below, "We're done." You turn on your heel and stomp away from him, feeling a sob wrack through you as you cross your arms and speed walk to the main gate where you know Steve is waiting.
Joel doesn't follow you.
--
Steve knows better than to question you about what happened. As soon as you'd approached him at the gate he'd seen your tears and the shake of your head when he'd opened his mouth to say something. Ten minutes later you were on your way out to the cabin again without either of you saying a word.
Now you're back on patrol with an aching heart and a huge lump in your throat that won't go away no matter what you do, trailing the perimeter back and forth with your head hung and eyes downcast. Joel's words repeat over and over in your head like a curse, damning you into a feeling of guilt that you don't think you really deserve. You haven't done shit with Steve, the assumption that you'd just immediately moved on from your sexual relationship with Joel to another man makes your blood boil. Who the fuck does he think you are?
Do you really even know him? This whole time he's remained so secretive and aloof, mysterious and cryptic. You hadn't pushed him to reveal more about himself, hoping eventually he'd open up to you, but he never did. Just kept you on a short leash with good girl and pretty girl and the way he'd look at you in those moments where you bared yourself to him.
But you're not much better, you remind yourself with a grimace, and you know it's true. You never told him much about yourself or your past. Yes, you would've, but you didn't. And you're the one who kept asking to get off with him, kept expecting more and being disappointed when he wouldn't give it to you even though he was clear about his boundaries.
"But that doesn't give him the right," you mutter to yourself, still walking through the muddy grass, deep in thought, "It doesn't make what he said okay."
No, it doesn't. But maybe he's hurting more than he lets on. Maybe this isn't as cut and dry for him as you'd thought. Why the fuck had he been snooping around your house so early this morning? He only lives a few houses down from you; had he seen Steve and felt he had to protect you? Does he actually care about you, as much as he tries to put on a front that it's only been sexual between you two and nothing more? Is that why he's been so distant?
You suddenly realize that you've gone much further than the perimeter, continuing to walk ahead instead of turning back and circling the area. You freeze, eyes scanning around as you try to discern exactly how far you've gone.
"Fuck," you mutter, turning around and starting to walk directly back the way you came, hoping it'll lead you right back to where you're meant to be.
--
It doesn't.
You'd been so lost in thought that somehow you've managed to lose the original path, the tall grass hiding any sign of your own footsteps. This is only your second time out here so nothing looks familiar; it's all grass and mud and trees and rocks. How long have you even been walking? Joel had once admonished you for not having a watch, said one day it was gonna bite you in the ass; you hate that he was right.
"Steve?" you call out, unsure if he'll be able to hear you since you don't know how far you've trailed from the cabin, "You there?"
No reply. You stop again and do another quick glance around, looking for anything that seems familiar to you. But no, this isn't the ski lodge perimeter where you'd grown accustomed to each tree, each stump, each rock. Nothing here is even vaguely telling you exactly where to turn.
You feel the dull throb of panic beneath the surface of your emotions but you quickly shove it down; you're good in situations like this, you've certainly been through enough shit to not get frightened over being a little lost. You've been lost before, you'll figure it out.
All the same, you keep track of the sun's location in the sky as you continue your directionless trek, noting that it's directly above you; noon. You have plenty of time before dark to find your way back, no sweat.
--
It must be around three o'clock when you finally make it back. Relief floods your entire body as you walk into the clearing and see the small wooden cabin sitting there still and picturesque, exactly how you'd left it. You bend down, closing your eyes and pressing your hands to your knees to take a few deep breaths and ground yourself. The panic had started to really settle in about an hour ago, but luckily it hadn't gotten to a point where you'd been too afraid to keep going.
"Steve," you say loudly, still breathing deeply, "I'm back."
No reply. You open your eyes again, heart still thumping in your chest as you eye the cabin for any sign of him. You walk over hesitantly, feeling a knot forming in your stomach when you open the front door and are greeted to a dark and empty cabin.
"Steve?" you say again, voice shaky.
No reply.
Fuck. He must have gone looking for you when you didn't come back to switch. Either that or he went back to Jackson, but you can't see a guy like Steve doing that. The way he'd stood up to Joel this morning, as embarrassing as it was, it had been enough to show you exactly what kind of man Steve is. He'd definitely gone to look for you. It's only fair that you do the same for him.
You grab a roll of twine from the cabin and start your search, making sure to mark the trees every now and then so you can find your way back again. You'd been advised in your patrol orientation not to do this because of raiders, but you doubt Tommy or Maria will give you shit for making sure you and Steve actually make it back to Jackson alive.
The thought makes the panic start to rise again, but you keep going.
--
You keep hoping you'll find some sign of Steve, but it's been about two hours and nothing has caught your eye. The twine is starting to run out and you fear you'll have to go back to Jackson without him, which will undoubtedly start a panic and a huge search party, all because you got a little distracted. This shit with Joel doesn't even matter anymore - you can't believe you let it affect you how it did. And now Steve is paying the price.
Another hour passes and you're preparing to turn back when you see it out of the corner of your eye. You freeze, hair standing up at the back of your neck when you look down to see shiny droplets of blood painting the grass.
You lean down instinctively, eyes wide, reaching forward to touch one of the many large red drops. It shivers beneath your finger, not yet fully dry. It's fresh.
Without hesitation you stand back up and pull your pistol out of its holster, cocking it and holding it steadily in front of you as you start to walk again. You have absolutely no idea what you're expecting to pop out at you; raiders? Infected? Or maybe Steve just cut himself somehow and you've taken your gun out for nothing.
A loud scream suddenly pierces the silence of the forest.
"STEVE!" you scream back, face going pale as you begin to sprint through the woods, gun still in front of you, "STAY WHERE YOU ARE, I'M COMING."
It's the last thing you say before you suddenly feel something tight grip your ankle and send you flying into the air, gun falling out of your hand. You find yourself completely upside down, entangled in a net.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You sway back and forth in the thick netting, trying to find your gun somewhere below you, but you quickly become much too dizzy to discern absolutely anything. You hear Steve's scream again, further away this time, and your blood runs cold. The panic takes over and you can't speak.
Please, you think to yourself, shutting your eyes tight and trying to keep the dizziness at bay, please don't let me die before I see him again.
It's not Steve you're thinking about.
It doesn't take long for the blood to rush to your head, for your body to go completely numb as you hang there upside down, completely alone. You pass out within minutes.
--
It's pitch black when you wake up.
You're no longer hanging from a tree in the forest, no longer tangled up in a net. Instead, you're lying on what feels like a concrete floor. Your head is pounding, lips dry and parched. Your whole body feels heavy and achy, so much so that you can barely move.
"She's awake," you hear a voice say somewhere close by; it's female and sounds familiar, but not enough for you to place it.
You hear the squeaky hinges of a door opening, then a few hushed whispers that you can't make out. The door shuts again and you swear you hear the sound of a deadbolt being locked in place.
"Where am I?" you finally whisper, voice rough and broken, "Let me go."
"You're in Jackson," the female voice replies, kind and gentle, "You're safe now."
"Who are you?" you can't bring yourself to open your eyes, unsure if this person is really telling you the truth.
"It's Ellie," the voice replies, and recognition dawns on you immediately, "Remember me?"
You nod slowly, wincing at the pain as you continue to lie there on the floor, "Y-yes."
"When you didn't come back this morning they sent out a search party. Tommy found you hanging in a tree, brought you back right away."
This morning? So you must have been hanging there all night. Jesus, no wonder you feel the way you do.
You finally open your eyes then, and are beyond relieved when your vision isn't dizzy and blurry like it had been before you'd passed out. You spot Ellie a few feet away, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, peering down at you with a soft expression.
"Steve?" you whisper.
Her brow furrows, "They found him too. I don't know the details but he was hurt pretty bad," she shakes her head, "They're gonna do everything they can."
You nod again, swallowing and wincing at the dryness of your throat, "C-can I have some water?"
"Oh, fuck, of course," she reaches behind her and grabs a bottle, then walks over to you. Her movements are slow, hesitant, and when she hands you the bottle her arm darts out and back extremely quickly.
You stare at her in confusion, slowly bringing yourself to sit up. She backs away from you again, presses herself against the wall and crosses her arms again. It's like she's feigning nonchalance.
Reality dawns on you.
"Am I bit?" you manage to whisper, clutching the water bottle tightly.
She swallows, looks directly in your eyes, "We're hoping you can answer that for us."
You slowly bring the water to your lips, mind racing. You try to remember anything beyond getting caught up in the net but there's absolutely nothing. If you'd been bit afterward, wouldn't it have woken you up? Wouldn't you feel the pain somewhere on you now?
You drink the entire bottle of water and place it next to you on the floor, then you begin to feel your body, placing your hands back and forth all over yourself and trying to find a particular spot that feels like it might have been bit. You come up blank; all that you feel is a steady ache from being numb for so long.
"I don't think so," you finally say, crossing your legs and bringing your hands to rest in front of you, "I feel okay."
"We only found you about two hours ago," she says softly, "So we weren't sure. This is where they keep people for observation, people who might be infected."
You assess your surroundings. You must be in some kind of shed; it's small and there's no furniture, only a single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. If you'd woken up alone you probably would've thought you'd been kidnapped. Your brow furrows and you look over at Ellie in confusion.
"If I might be bit, why are they keeping you in here with me?" you ask, bewildered, "It's not safe for you."
Ellie kicks her heel and shrugs, "I don't know, they just thought you shouldn't be alone when you woke up."
She's lying and you don't know why, but you don't have the energy to press her further. What's important is that you're not alone, and you appreciate that. You watch as she inhales deeply, lost in thought, then brings her fingers to the bridge of her nose and squeezes. Just like Joel.
Joel.
"Does he know?" you suddenly whisper.
You didn't say his name but she clearly knows who you're talking about. She sets her lips in a firm line, "Yeah."
You place your head in your hands and sigh loudly, shutting your eyes tight. You suddenly feel like you want to cry, just at the thought of that big, broad, grumpy man being told that you didn't come back from patrol. Had he been upset? Annoyed? Angry? Scared?
"He's freaking out," Ellie answers for you, voice quiet, "He punched Tommy in the face."
"What?" you stare at her, eyes wide, "Why'd he do that?"
She laughs softly to herself, shaking her head, "Tommy wouldn't let him go with the search party."
Your face scrunches in confusion, "Why not?"
She looks away from you then, eyeing the closed door, "Because Tommy thought his feelings would get in the way," her voice is slightly shaky, like she might cry, "He thought if they found you dead, Joel might not come back, might try to find the motherfuckers who did it and make them pay."
You're already shaking your head, "That's dumb, he wouldn't do that."
Ellie laughs again, turning back to look at you, "You really don't know anything about Joel, do you?"
You stare, waiting for her to speak again. She adjusts her position, slowly sliding down the wall and sitting across from you with her knees pulled up against her chest.
"Joel's killed a lot of people," she says quietly, looking over at you with tired eyes, "I mean, a lot of us have, I'm sure you have too. We've all done shit we're not proud of," she thumbs a tear on her jeans, biting down on her lip, "But when it comes to the people he cares about... Joel doesn't do things halfway, never."
You swallow, "Ellie, I don't think Joel cares about me in the way you're thinking."
She smiles then, small and hesitant, but still a smile, "As I said, you don't really know much about him. Not like I do."
"But-"
She puts a hand up, "I know about the two of you. I overheard you and Tommy talking last week."
You remember that afternoon by the stream, the rustle of the bushes, when you'd pulled the branches back expecting to see someone but found nobody there.
"That was you?" you ask, eyebrows raised, "By the stream?"
She nods, "I showed up to play my guitar and you guys were already there talking. I wasn't gonna listen but then I heard Joel's name and..." she sighs, looking down at her knees, "I might not be talking to Joel right now but I like to know what he's up to."
You nod slowly, "So...you heard about..."
"The mountain, yeah," she makes a face, "Listen, I don't want the details, trust me, but I wasn't surprised when you said that, not the way Tommy was anyway," she giggles, "I love seeing him get all uncomfortable, it's so funny."
You snort, shaking your head, "Please, it was so awkward."
"He really had no idea, but I think I did, somehow," she smiles again, wistful, "As I said, I might not be talking to Joel but that doesn't mean I don't look out for him, watch him, make sure he's doing alright," she looks down again, "I'm not heartless, okay?"
"I know," you say earnestly, "I know you're not."
"I knew something was different with him. He's been so quiet and sad, doesn't talk to people very much anymore, but these past few weeks it was like he had a pep in his step, like the old Joel was coming back," she smiles at the thought, "And then I saw the way he'd look at you in the dining hall, all those little smiles. And at first I was like...gross. But then..." she sighs, shaking her head, "I don't know, I think it's cute how much he likes you. How much you changed him."
Her words elicit a warmth in your chest, soft and safe, like the feeling of being in Joel's presence. You wrap your arms around yourself, huddling forward and continuing to listen.
"We were eating breakfast when Tommy announced the search party this morning. As soon as he said what had happened I looked over at Joel. He looked like he'd just received the worst news of his life," her voice shakes again, like she's on the verge of tears, "He ran up to Tommy, started asking questions about the search, when they were starting, what way they were going, all that. Tommy told him that he couldn't come, they argued, Joel punched Tommy and then I had to practically pull them apart."
"You?" your mouth is agape, "You stopped the fight?"
She nods with another small smile, "As soon as Joel realized it was me pulling on him, he stopped. I told him I knew about what was going on, I said I'd stay with him until you came back safe and sound."
You feel tears prick in your eyes at the words, "That must have meant a lot to him."
"It meant the world to him, I know that," she says quietly, "I haven't talked to him for a long time, I'm sure you know that."
You nod, "I do."
She's silent then for a few moments, staring at the closed door again. When she finally speaks, her voice is shakier than ever, "I sat with him in his living room until they got back with you and Steve. He wanted to see you but they wouldn't let him, so I volunteered to stay with you. That's why I'm here."
She leans back against the wall with a sigh, biting down on her lip. You see tears beginning to brim in her eyes and you look away, knowing you wouldn't want someone staring at you if it was you getting emotional.
"He's lost a lot, you know," she says softly, sniffling a little bit, "He lost his daughter a long time ago, and a woman named Tess he really cared about," she takes a breath, shaky and full of emotion, "He almost lost me, too. That's part of the reason we're not talking."
You stare at the concrete floor, letting her words sink in. A daughter? Joel had been a father? And Tess, who was she? A girlfriend? A wife? Clearly someone important, and he'd lost both of them.
You've been through your share of trauma, experienced your own losses, but never to that degree. You'd never gotten close enough to someone to really feel a loss like that, can't even imagine what it would feel like. Your heart aches for him; that stoic, quiet, and mysterious man who'd let you in but kept you at arm's length... for reasons you're beginning to understand.
You stand up slowly, wincing at the aches you feel, your skin feeling prickly and uncomfortable as your circulation continues to regulate. Ellie's words cycle through your mind as you stretch, ringing quiet and tender in your ears; I think it's cute how much he likes you. How much you changed him.
"When can I see him?" you ask softly, still avoiding looking at her as you pull at parts of your clothes, searching again for a bite you're pretty sure doesn't exist.
"I'll ask Maria," Ellie replies just as quiet, standing up as well and walking over to the door, "If you were bit you'd be showing signs by now, I think you're okay."
"Ask her about Steve too, please," you add, "I need to know if he's alive."
She nods and opens the door, then goes outside and shuts it behind her. You hear the deadbolt slide back into place.
You burst into tears.
--
Ellie returns with Maria about ten minutes later, both of them looking at you with kind and sympathetic expressions when they find you standing in the middle of the room sobbing your heart out. Without hesitation, Maria walks forward and wraps her arms around you tightly.
"It's okay, sweetie," she says softly in your ear, rubbing your back gently, "Steve's okay, he's gonna make it."
Ellie looks down when she says this, and part of you knows that she knows you're not crying about Steve.
--
They walk you home slowly, Maria on one side and Ellie on your other. You complain a bit, telling them you're okay to walk on your own, but neither pay your stubbornness any mind, just keep their arms linked through yours as they walk you to your house.
You're on your street when you see two figures up ahead, and your heart starts to pound harder and harder in your chest the closer you get. Because you know who it is.
Joel and Tommy are leaning against the banister of Joel's front patio, talking quietly to themselves. You grimace at the sight of Tommy's black eye but feel relief flood through you when you see that he's smiling at Joel, clearly no animosity present.
"Look who's up!" Ellie says loudly, and they both turn to look in your direction.
Joel freezes, staring at you for a few brief seconds of recognition before he's suddenly throwing himself from the patio and sprinting toward you. You feel both Ellie and Maria release you from their grips, right before you're suddenly enveloped in the warmest, sweetest, most sincere hug you've ever received in your life.
Throughout all these months of knowing Joel, he's never truly touched you. Sure, he's touched your hand, shook it during your official introduction, helped you stand up here and there. He's touched your face once, your lips twice. And he's touched you where you longed for him to, begged him to, but only for a moment, just one touch. Gentle, tender, but never long enough for you to really feel him the way you've wanted to.
Now he pulls you close without any hesitation, no rules, no consequences. He presses his lips to the top of your head and whispers your name over and over until it sounds like a mantra, a prayer.
"Joel," you breathe, and you feel the tears start up again as you shut your eyes tight and just feel, listen to him say your name and hold you like you'll fall apart if he lets go.
"I thought I lost you," he says, voice rough and emotional, "Before I could even tell you how sorry I am."
"Shh," you squeeze him tighter, burying your face in his strong chest, "Don't worry about that, I'm here. I'm okay."
He holds you impossibly tighter and you hear the unmistakable sound of a sob rip through his teeth, tears dripping from his face into your hair. You pull back just enough to look up at him, see him peer down at you with an expression on his face that you've never seen before, impossibly soft and fond, eyes bright and yearning. Love.
"I'm sorry," he repeats, inhaling shakily, "For everything."
You shake your head furiously, "Joel, it's oka-"
"It's not okay," he interrupts, voice breaking again, "I'm so sorry. Not just for what I said yesterday, but for everything else. For pushing you away, making you feel like it was your fault, I'm so fucking sorry," he pulls you in again, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head, "God, you have no idea how bad I've wanted to just hold you like this. I was such a fucking coward."
"You were afraid," you whisper, shaking your head, "I understand, Joel, I get it."
He lets out another sob, squeezes you tighter, "Don't let me go," he breathes, "Please don't let go."
For the entire hug you'd thought he was the one holding you, but you now realize that for him it's the other way around. You feel yourself start to cry harder as you pull him in tighter and just stand there, arms wrapped around his middle, face pressed against his chest as the beat of his heart thrums steadily in your ear. You both inhale and exhale deeply, moving as one being, one solid force. He kisses your head again and you melt further into his touch.
"I'm gonna head back to town," you hear Maria say softly nearby, probably to Tommy and Ellie, "Tommy, can you go check on Steve, make sure he's still doing okay?"
Joel stiffens at the name, suddenly pulling back from you to look over at Maria, "He alright?"
Maria nods, "Yeah," she turns to look at you then, expression serious, "He told us that when you didn't come back to switch patrols, he got worried, went out looking for you. Ended up running into a group of raiders, the same ones who set that trap you fell into. They stabbed him a couple times but nothing critical, he managed to get a few hits in himself before he got away, led them in the opposite direction."
"Jesus," you mutter, feeling guilt rush through you, "Are they still out there?"
"No," Tommy replies, shaking his head, "We took care of it. Steve knocked 'em around pretty good but we made sure none of 'em were breathin' by the time we left."
You nod slowly, still in Joel's embrace, "Tell him I'm sorry," you say quietly, "It's my fault."
"Shhh," Joel pulls you close again, rubbing your back gently, "Don't worry about that, let's get you inside."
"Make sure she has a bath," Maria says quickly, "Keep her warm, give her some food."
"I'm not a hamster," you groan, and you're surprised to hear Ellie laugh behind you. You'd forgotten she was there.
Joel suddenly pulls out of your embrace, still holding you with one arm while he reaches toward Ellie, "Come here," he says softly, "Please."
She shakes her head, taking a step back, "I'm going with Maria," she bites her lip, looks down and then looks back at Joel who's still staring longingly at her, "But I'll meet up with you later, okay?"
"Okay," he says quietly, voice still shaky, "Promise?"
She nods, gives him a small smile, "Promise."
--
"Where do you wanna go?" Joel had asked you softly, "Mine or yours?"
"Yours," you'd whispered immediately, no hesitation, "Please."
You now find yourself in Joel Miller's house, somewhere you never really ever pictured yourself. It's pretty similar to yours but there are a few differences, namely the amount of books and art. You hadn't known that Ellie was an artist; there are drawings all over his house, some in frames, some just laid around, all signed by Ellie, all beautiful. There's a picture she drew of him that he has framed on his fireplace, and you find yourself picking it up with a smile.
"Bath's almost ready," Joel says quietly behind you, and you spin back around. He looks at the picture in your hand, smiling softly, "Ellie drew that."
"She's really talented," you reply with a smile, "Wonder where she gets all this artsy fartsy stuff from?"
He chuckles, still standing a few feet away from you, "It's a mystery."
You place the picture back down and turn to look at him, feeling a nervousness in the pit of your stomach that you haven't felt around him in a long time, not since that first night together. Things are different now, it's palpable, and both of you are aware of it.
"Will you take a bath with me?" you ask quietly, unsure.
He nods slowly, eyes trained on your face, "Of course I will."
--
The bath is warm and welcoming. Joel had told you to strip down, get in, and that he'd be back momentarily with some food for you. You can't help but feel a little disappointed that he hadn't stuck around to watch you undress, but maybe it would've been inappropriate considering the circumstances.
You ease yourself under the water, a satisfied moan escaping your lips as the bath completely envelops you. He's put something in the water to make it smell good, lavender or vanilla. It instantly relaxes you, the heat of the water and the delicious smell making you feel completely at ease.
You lay there for a few minutes in silence, eyes closed, focusing on your breathing and bringing things back into perspective. You're okay, you're safe. Steve is okay, he's safe. You're both back in Jackson. You're with Joel, you're in his bath tub, he's downstairs making you lunch. Everything is okay.
Ellie's words filter through your brain again, distant but present; He lost his daughter a long time ago, and a woman named Tess he really cared about.
A light knock on the bathroom door shakes you from your thoughts. You smile, "Come in."
Joel enters the bathroom, bowl of soup in one hand and a tall glass of water in the other. He places them on the chair next to the tub, eyes avoiding you as he focuses on the task at hand. He kneels by the tub and spoons some of the soup carefully, then finally looks at your face as he brings the spoon to your mouth. You open, letting him feed you, letting him take care of you.
"Good?" he asks softly, gaze still on your face, ever the gentleman.
"Good," you say with a smile.
He feeds you a few more spoonfuls, smiling fondly at you as you eat. After a few moments of this you put your hand up, shaking your head, "That's enough for now, why don't you get in with me?"
His gaze finally falls then, looks at your body beneath the water, sees your nipples poking through the surface. He sighs, leans back a bit on his knees and shakes his head.
"I don't know if that's a good idea," he says quietly.
"Joel," you say quickly, voice steady, "Don't pull away from me. Not now. Not anymore."
He looks at your face again, expression sad and distant, "I'm afraid," he admits, "I'm afraid of being close to you."
"I know," you whisper, and you reach over to place your hand over his, stroking him gently with your thumb, "It's okay. It's okay to be afraid."
"I've lost a lot of people," he whispers, tears shining in his eyes, "I thought...I thought if I let myself get close to you, if I gave you what you wanted...I'd get attached. I'd fall for you," he says it earnestly, voice breaking slightly on the last few words, "But here I am, fallin' for you anyway."
You smile at him, soft and loving. You squeeze his hand and slowly sit up in the bath, putting yourself on display for him. His eyes don't leave yours, but he swallows and tenses his jaw at your movement.
"Bad things have happened to the people I care about," he says quietly, barely a whisper, "And you're young, you're beautiful, you have this whole life ahead of you and I'm-" his voice breaks and he looks down again, tears cascading down his cheeks, "I'm scared you'll end up like those people, dead and gone because of me."
"Joel-"
"And I'm scared I don't deserve it," he interrupts, looking up at you again, mouth trembling, "I don't think I deserve love. I don't deserve someone like you 'cause of everything I've done."
"What about Ellie?" you ask softly, squeezing his hand reassuringly, "She's alive and she loves you."
He scoffs, shaking his head, "She hates me."
"She doesn't hate you," you mean it, leaning forward to cradle his hand in both of yours, "I talked to that girl for the first time today, really talked to her, and I can see it plain as day. She loves you more than you could ever know, Joel."
"She stayed with me today," he whispers shakily, nodding slowly, "She sat with me 'til we knew you were safe."
"And you think that's hate?" you ask softly, "Joel, that's love."
He looks at you again, expression pained. You bring his hand to your lips, press a gentle and tender kiss to every knuckle, showing him how much he's worth, how much he means to you.
"I'm afraid," he repeats through his tears, watching you kiss him, "I'm afraid to want you the way I do."
You release his hand and lean back slightly in the tub, extending your arm for him to take, gazing at him with all the love and care you can muster, "Get in with me," you whisper, the splash of water the only sound in the room save for your heartbeats, both of which you swear you can hear, "Don't be afraid."
His eyes cast downward to your lips and he swallows again, then looks back up into your eyes, "Okay."
You watch as he stands up and starts to unbutton his shirt. You can tell that he's extremely nervous, his fingers trembling as he fights to get each button open.
"I'm gonna close my eyes," you say tenderly, "And when you're ready, tap my shoulder and I'll let you in behind me, okay?"
He nods slowly, fingers frozen on the third button, "Okay," he repeats.
You close your eyes and lean back, listening to the rustle of clothes beside you as he undresses. You're not used to this Joel, the one who seems powerless and submissive. You're not usually the one giving him orders, it's always been the other way around. You know he's just nervous, afraid of being close to you like this, and all you want is for him to feel relaxed again in your presence, feel like himself.
After a moment he taps your shoulder; you lean forward in the bath and feel him ease in behind you, his legs entrapping yours along the edges of the tub. He seats himself down, places his hands around your middle and pulls you in close. You feel his groin press against your lower back; you've never felt his cock before, and somehow the casual intimacy of his softness pressed against you makes you smile.
"You can open your eyes," he whispers, then presses a gentle kiss to the back of your neck.
You do as you're told, immediately seeing the way his legs are splayed out in front of you, long and strong beneath the water. You've never realized how small you are compared to him until this moment, completely enrobed in his body, heart thrumming against your back.
"This is heaven," you whisper, leaning back against him and closing your eyes again, "This is what I wanted, all along."
"I think you wanted a bit more than this," he replies with a chuckle, kissing your neck again, "And you'll get it, I promise. Let's just...let's just sit here for a little while first, alright?"
"As long as you need to," you murmur, and you swear you feel him smile against your skin.
--
You bathe together for a long time, just laying in each other's embrace and enjoying the company. Being this close to Joel truly is everything you could have ever hoped for, his strong arms wrapped around you as he noses your neck and breathes you in, holds you against his naked body like you're meant to fit there. He's so big and warm; you've never felt more safe.
At one point you scooch back a bit in this embrace, feel your ass unintentionally rub lightly against his cock beneath the water. Neither of you say anything, but you both slowly become aware of the way he hardens, begins to grow larger against you.
A few moments later the head of his cock is pulsing against your lower back. Your eyes are lidded, heavy, head bobbing backward to nestle at the base of his neck. His hands on your belly move upward to cup your breasts, holding you firmly and securely against him.
"Joel," you whisper, "Touch me."
The words bring both of you back to the ski lodge, the power he holds over you there, the way you're always at his mercy. You hope, despite the new situation, he'll be that person again for you. You crave it, need it.
"Not yet," he murmurs in your ear, "Be patient, pretty girl."
There he is.
You swallow, close your eyes and submit completely as he palms your breasts, tweaks your nipples between his fingers gently. You whimper pathetically, shuffle back against his cock again, feel the hard length of it along your back.
"You were a bad girl yesterday," he whispers in your ear, tongue darting out to taste your skin, making you shiver, "And today. Gettin' lost like that, makin' me worry..."
"M'sorry," you murmur, hands moving down to grip his thighs as he brings your earlobe into your mouth and sucks it, "Didn't m-mean to make you worry."
"I think," he whispers, breath hot against your skin, "I'm finally gonna have to punish you."
The words send tingles up and down your spine, eyes almost rolling back in your head when he sucks your earlobe again, eliciting sounds from you that only he knows how to generate. You squeeze his thighs tighter, feeling your pussy begin to pulse beneath the water.
"How?" you breathe, voice weak.
He releases your ear and noses your cheek, brings one of his hands from your breasts and rests a finger against your chin. He turns your face to the side, urging you to look at him. His eyes are dark, full of want and desire, and you know you're completely at his mercy.
"I'm gonna fuck you, baby," he whispers, "Gonna fill that pussy up with my cock."
The words send you into a tailspin, a guttural whine escaping your lips as your fingers press into his thighs, rubbing your own together to seek some purchase against your heat. He smiles, presses a gentle kiss to your temple, drops his hands and places them over yours, big and strong.
"I know that's what you want," he whispers, entangling his fingers with yours over his thighs, "But I'm gonna give it to you over and over again, gonna make you come as many times as I want, 'til you're begging me to stop, tellin' me it's too much, that you couldn't possibly come again," he squeezes your hands, licks a stripe up the side of your neck, "And then I'll give you another one."
"Please," you breathe, voice broken and full of desire, "Please, fuck me, Joel. I need it so bad."
"I know you do, baby," he whispers, "So be a good girl for me and do as I say, okay?"
"Okay," you whimper, leaning back in his embrace, feeling his cock prod your back.
"Say it."
"I'll be your good girl," you whine, trembling under his gaze, "I'm your good girl, Joel. Only yours."
He groans softly in your ear, "That's right, baby," he releases your hands from beneath his and cups your breasts again, squeezing gently, "Now, open yourself up for me."
With trembling fingers you reach beneath the water and pull your lips apart, using both hands to spread yourself for him. The water tickles you, makes you quiver in his grasp as you slowly push your middle finger inside.
"There you go," he whispers, "That feel good, pretty girl?"
"Y-yes," you whimper, throbbing around your finger.
"Add as many as you like," he tells you, "Need to be nice and open for my cock."
The very thought of finally having him inside you makes you whimper again as you add a second finger, feeling his familiar gaze on your cunt. It's so different this time, feeling how hard he is against you, being in his naked embrace while you obey his commands. This is nothing like being in his lap when he'd been fully clothed, holding you open for him. This is sex, pure sex that you know is going to last hours.
"Look at that," he murmurs when you've started to pump three fingers in and out of yourself at a steady pace, "So full for me, already ready to come, huh?"
You whimper, leaning back against his chest, feeling his wiry hair rub against your cheek. Without any hesitation he suddenly reaches down and presses his index finger to your clit, making you cry out in pleasure.
"Remember when I touched this clit for the first time?" he murmurs in your ear, circling it softly over and over, "Remember how you came just from a little touch? So sensitive, baby. Such a good girl."
His words send you over the edge, making you squirm and shake in his embrace as he gives you your first orgasm of the day, coaxes it out of you easily. You whimper when he touches your wrist, pulls your fingers out to replace them with his own.
"That's one," he whispers, sliding his index finger inside your heat, and you're not sure if he's talking about the orgasm or the digit. You're too blissed out to care, head bobbing against his neck again as he fingers you, adds a second and presses his lips to your ear, "Baby, she's so tight," he breathes, teasing a third at your entrance, "How's my cock gonna fit?"
"Mnnhnngg," you can't make words, looking down beneath the water at where he's fucking you relentlessly, fingers so big and thick compared to yours, his thumb toying with your clit.
"Can't even talk, huh?" he whispers, "Need to come again, I bet."
You don't think you'll be able to, not yet; you're so overstimulated but he just continues to fuck you with abandon, rubbing your clit with every thrust of his fingers. You arch back against him, his cock throbbing against your ass. Your fingers dig into his thighs again and he chuckles in your ear.
"Can't do that, baby," he whispers, "Play with your pretty little nipples for me, show me how hard they are."
You bring your trembling hands to your breasts, squeezing your tender nipples between your fingers and feeling another orgasm start building in your tummy. How? It's so soon since you had your last one, how the fuck can he give you another one so quickly?
He pumps his fingers steadily in and out of you, watching as you play with your nipples. He leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to the skin of your left breast, inches away from where your fingers are pinching.
"Put it in my mouth, pretty girl," he murmurs against the skin, nosing the little bumps and dropping his jaw. You whimper at his words, squeezing your breast and dropping it downward so he can wrap his lips around the sensitive bud. You groan, feeling his tongue dart out and begin to lick tiny circles around it.
Seconds later, you're coming again. You shake and shiver and then go completely still in his arms, eyes rolling back as he continues to suckle at your nipple. He removes his fingers, thumbs your clit one more time, then releases your breast with a light pop.
"Two," he says quietly, smiling at you, "Good girl."
--
Somehow you make it to his bedroom. Exactly how, you're not sure. You're so wrecked from having two orgasms in ten minutes that you feel like jelly, but you're vaguely aware of him picking you up from the bath and carrying you to his room, putting you in his bed. You lay there like a starfish, arms up and legs wide as you breathe heavily, chest heaving.
"So sleepy," he says tenderly, stroking your cheek, "You ready for bed, baby? Wanna stop?"
Your eyes snap open and you shake your head frantically, only to see him standing there with a wide smile on his face.
"I'm kidding," he says with a laugh, "Don't worry."
You roll your eyes and look up at his ceiling, "Ass."
"There she is," he replies warmly, "Missed my feisty girl."
"She never left," you say with a wink, turning to look at him; he's shuffled closer to the bed, standing over you with his cock in his left hand, slowly stroking up and down. Your lips part unconsciously, eyes going straight for the plump and wet head.
"Yeah, you wanna suck it, huh?" he says quietly, thumbing exactly where you want to place your tongue, "Tasted my come twice but never had me in your mouth, how naughty."
You look up at him from under your lashes, smiling playfully, "I'm a good girl, promise."
He smirks, "Are you? Then show me how a good girl sucks cock."
You don't need him to ask you twice. You sit up on the bed and slide forward, watching as he releases his cock and lets it bounce upward toward his stomach, big and thick. You've never been so close to it, never seen it in broad daylight like this; he's huge, so wide and girthy with a big vein trailing along the underside all the way to the head, fat and leaking. With a shiver you lean forward and suck the tip into your mouth, trying not to smile when you hear him release a deep sigh.
"'Atta girl," he groans above you, his hand immediately coming up to cradle the back of your head, "That's my good girl."
You swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, swallowing down everything he's leaking and then starting to bob your head along the shaft, reaching up to grasp the base firmly in your hand. He tastes like the bath; lavender and vanilla, mixed with a salty and masculine flavor that makes your mouth water.
"Oh, baby," he murmurs, watching as you take his entire length in your mouth with barely any hesitation, the head hitting the back of your throat without even making you gag, "That's it, take the whole fucking thing, just like that."
You're aware of the fact that you don't have a gag reflex; you'd thought about telling him a while ago, thought maybe it'd convince him to let you blow him, but you'd never been brave enough to say anything. Now, you're glad you never did. Hearing his absolute wonder as you take his entire length is more than enough.
"Oh, fuck," he groans, watching as you pull back almost all the way and then push yourself forward again to fully envelop him, the tip repeatedly prodding the inside of your throat, "Jesus fucking Christ."
You swallow around him and look up from underneath your lashes, eyes wide and burning. He looks down at you and immediately slips his cock out of your mouth, taking a step back and putting his hands up in surrender.
"Okay, okay," he says quickly, hissing through his teeth, "I'm gonna come if you keep goin'. Fuck."
You look at him with faux-innocence, eyes wide, "Did I do something wrong?"
He shakes his head, inhaling deeply and taking another step backward, "You're gonna kill me, baby," he curls his hands into fists, and you swear his cock bobs again completely on its own, like he's about to come without even being touched. The thought makes you shiver, "I know I say that all the time, but I mean it. You're gonna kill me."
You giggle, falling backwards on the bed again and stretching out your arms and legs, closing your eyes and listening as he does a quick pace around the room to distract himself from the orgasm his body is threatening to have. You just laugh and rotate your legs back and forth, feeling an immense amount of pride that you're not the only overly sensitive one in the room.
"You think that's funny, huh?" he asks you, and your eyes snap open to see him kneeling in front of you at the edge of the bed.
"N-no," you say, but your smile betrays you. He looks at you darkly and suddenly grabs your legs, pulling you closer to the edge of the bed and pushing your thighs apart, "Oh," you whimper, looking down at yourself, seeing where he's looking, where you're wet and dripping all over the sheets.
"Messy," he whispers, "Such a messy little pussy."
"It's yours," you tell him, as if he doesn't already know, "It's your little pussy."
"I know, baby," he leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to your inner thigh, "I've wanted to taste her for so long."
You quiver at his words, brow furrowing as he presses another soft kiss to the opposite thigh. He licks a stripe along the inside, just outside your lips where you're puffy and swollen. He kisses your mound, drags his tongue down and down and down until it swipes lightly against your clit.
"Joel," you moan, throwing your head back and fisting the sheets. He pulls back and you look down again to see him smirking at you, eyes suddenly bright and playful again.
"Tastes like heaven, baby," he says softly, then ducks his head down and pushes his tongue inside you with no warning.
You let out the loudest moan of your life as he begins to eat you out, tongue alternating between twisting and licking your insides and then suckling on your clit like he'd done with your nipple, circling it inside his mouth relentlessly. You writhe beneath him, so much that he has to press his hands firmly against your belly to hold you down.
The noises you're making are practically inhuman, uttering almost a completely different language under your breath as he coaxes more ridiculous sounds out of you. You quickly realize that looking down at him is a mistake; the sight of his greying curls splayed across your pubic bone and the shape of his curved nose pressed into the hair on your mound, his eyes closed in pleasure as he sucks and licks and devours, just the image alone brings you close to the edge.
"I'm gonna come," you manage to squeak out, and he pushes his hands harder against your belly, the added pressure making you groan louder than ever.
He pulls his mouth away.
"No," you breathe, shaking your head wildly with wide eyes, "No, no, no, don't stop. Please don't stop!"
He smirks at you, removing his hands and leaning backward to release you completely from his grip. You stare at him, completely bewildered.
"Joel," you cry, real tears starting to form in your eyes, but not from sadness or anger - this time, you're just horny. "Joel, why?"
He still doesn't speak, just sits there and watches you groan in disbelief, your hands coming up to cover your face. You buck your hips into the air, seeking some kind of pressure, but nothing helps.
"Joel," you repeat, "This is mean."
"I told you I was gonna punish you, baby," he says it with faux-disappointment, like he's not the one who makes the rules, "I'm the one who decides when you come. And what I just did is exactly what you just did to me."
You pout, sitting up on your hands and giving him a dirty look, "That's not fair, you told me to stop, I would've kept going."
"But if you'd kept going, how would I have been able to do this?" he asks, and suddenly he's standing up and leaning over you on the bed, knees sinking into the mattress as he hovers above you.
"W-what?" you ask, but you know the answer as soon as you feel the wet head of his cock gently prod your entrance.
"This, baby," he murmurs, and pushes himself all the way inside.
You almost let out a scream, squeezing his sheets in your hands as his huge cock practically rearranges your guts, feeling him in your stomach as he reaches his hands up to entwine his fingers with yours, plying them away from the sheets.
"Oh, she wasn't ready, was she?" he asks quietly, nosing your neck and smiling at the incoherent noises coming from your throat, "Poor little pussy, never had something so big inside of her, huh?"
He stays still inside of you, letting you get used to his wide girth and thick length, so large within you that you feel like you're going to burst. You continue to make odd noises, twitching under his grasp, and it takes you a few seconds to realize that you're coming. You're coming, just from having his cock fully sheathed inside of you.
"Three," he whispers in your ear, pressing a soft kiss to the skin there, "That's three times now, baby. Such a good girl for me."
Your pussy pulses and throbs around him, aching and burning in the most perfect way. How does he know exactly what you need? How does he know exactly what'll get you there?
"You're okay, baby," he murmurs, stroking your hair gently as you convulse around him, "You're doing so well, takin' it all so good."
You've never felt so full in your life. You've only ever had sex a handful of times, only ever actually been with two other men. If you had to compare them to this, you'd laugh in their faces.
"Big," you finally find your words, barely a whisper, "So big."
"I know," Joel kisses your temple, pulls back to look down at you with a gentle smile, "I'll wait 'til you get used to it, don't worry."
It's only then, looking up into those big brown eyes, that you realize you still haven't kissed him. He's got his enormous cock inside of you, stretching every inch of you open, and you've never kissed him.
It's like he's suddenly thinking the exact same thing. You watch as his brow furrows, lips parting slightly as he leans down and presses a sweet and gentle kiss to your lips, your eyes closing as you kiss him back with a hunger you've never known. You slip your tongue inside his mouth and he grants you entrance immediately, breathing deeply against your face as he sucks you in, lets you taste him. You can taste your own wetness on his tongue and it makes you moan against his lips.
"You're so fucking perfect," he breathes against your mouth, closing his eyes and rubbing his nose against yours, "My perfect girl, always so good for me."
"I'm yours," you remind him, voice weak and shaky, "I'll do whatever you tell me to, Joel."
He inhales deeply, removing his hands from yours and trailing them down your body to hold you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your torso and trailing his fingers up and down your back.
"You can move now," you whisper, still pulsing around him, "I can take it."
"I know you can, baby," he murmurs, "Such a good girl."
It takes a few slow thrusts, your mouth still eliciting the most unhinged sounds as he fucks you at the slowest pace imaginable, but eventually you build up a rhythm. He's so big, it's hard to believe he's actually fitting inside of you. You'd only ever seen his cock from a distance, in darkness, never realized how fucking huge he was. You can't believe you'd even managed to fit all of him in your mouth.
"I'm close," you groan in his ear, your own hands coming up to grip his back tightly, loving the feeling of having him pressed so close to you as he fucks you, "Give me my fourth, Joel, fucking give it to me."
He laughs lightly in response, pulling back to look down at you, "Not much of a punishment anymore, is it?" he says with a smirk, shaking his head, "Now you're begging for it." He slows down his thrusts, eventually stilling inside of you and pulling almost all the way out, letting the head of his cock sit inside your pulsing hole.
"Look at that," he says softly and you sit up to follow his gaze, looking down at your already fucked-out hole, his cock only connected to it via the fat head that sits nestled at your entrance, "Look at all your come on my cock, pretty girl."
You notice the white and glistening spots along his cock, feeling your cheeks go red at the recognition that it's all from you. You bite your lip, chest heaving breathlessly as he carefully pulls the tip from your hole and places it against your clit.
"Oh, fuck," you whimper, watching as he gently rubs the head in circles on your clit, his tip continuing to leak and making you even more slippery than you already are.
"Here's number four for you, baby," he murmurs, and pulls back his cock to lightly slap the head against you, the pressure immediately making you moan. He slaps it again, a little harder, and you have to bite down on your lip again to stop the onslaught of little whines you're threatening to make.
"Come," he says firmly, deliberately an order, and slaps the head of his cock against your clit one last time, delivering the final push.
Your eyes roll back again and you fall back on the bed, body twitching as you come for the fourth time, feeling his eyes on your pussy as your hole pulses and throbs around nothing.
"Good girl," he whispers, and seconds later you feel his cock slide back inside of you, exactly where it belongs, "There you go."
You lay there completely limp for a few seconds, body only moving with the thrusts of Joel's steady pace. You finally open your eyes again, see him kneeling on the bed above you. He's holding your lower half upwards, hands digging into your hips and thumbs splayed across your tummy.
"Use me," you breathe, eyes closing again, "Just use me for a few minutes."
He groans, a guttural and fierce noise that rips through the silence of his bedroom. You relax completely, melting into the sheets and letting him take what he needs, take and take and take, using you like his personal fuck toy, something you'd only dreamed about and never thought would ever actually come to fruition. Your arms hang limp and loose off the edge of his bed as you inhale and exhale, trying to get your energy back as fast as possible so you can come again.
Because you know he's not gonna let you off at number four.
After a few more steady thrusts you slowly sit back up on your elbows, looking at him through hooded and tired eyes. He can see that you're close to being completely done, smiles gently at you and slows his rhythm.
"Welcome back," he says softly, leaning down to pull you up so you're level with him. He repositions the both of you so his legs are circling you, yours coming up to wrap around his lower back as you sit on his cock. He pulls you closer, cradling the back of your head and pressing kisses along the side of your face, "I know you're tired but I'm gonna give you one more, baby, just like I promised."
"I know," you whisper, voice shaky.
He holds you in his wide arms, completely envelops you as he fucks up into you steadily, nose and lips pressed against the side of your face as he brings himself closer and closer to release, continuously whispering a thread of dirty things to you, building you up.
"Such a tight fuckin' pussy, all for me," he murmurs, "So wet and pink and perfect, takin' me so good, so fuckin' full of cock."
"Joel," you whimper, leaning further against him and letting him fuck you mercilessly, letting him push you closer and closer to your fifth orgasm, "Keep talking."
"Okay, baby," he whispers, brow furrowed, "Okay, pretty girl. So fuckin' good to me, so fuckin' pure and perfect, lettin' me fill this little cunt, lettin' me fuck it so deep," you scratch at his arm, tension building in your belly, "Waited so long for me to give it to you, begged for it for months, and now you have it. It's all yours, baby. You get this cock whenever you want now, just say the word."
He reaches down and rubs your clit with his thumb, feeling you tense against him as your orgasm overtakes you. You shake in his embrace, moaning out his name one final time before you start to come, heart pounding and chest heaving as he releases your clit and hugs you close to him. You tremble beneath him, feeling completely spent, almost boneless in his lap as he keeps fucking you.
"Where do you want my come, pretty girl?" he asks you through clenched teeth, "You still want it in your mouth?"
"Yes," you say immediately, eyes widening, "In my mouth, please."
Without another word he pulls you from his lap, watching as you fall backwards on the bed weightlessly.
"Christ, I fucked the shit outta you, baby," he says, genuinely shocked at how blissed out you are.
"You did," you reply softly, feeling a smile cross your face, "Can't move anymore."
He gives you a gentle smile, walks around the bed and aims his cock toward your face, "Here's your reward, baby, open up, nice and wide."
You do as you're told, feeling an immense amount of pride and satisfaction as you finally get what you've been craving for months. He strokes his cock once, only once, and suddenly ropes of thick white come are painting your tongue and lips, your cheeks, your chin. He groans, long and low, watching as you close your eyes and take every drop he gives you, watching it all pool on your tongue, dribble down your chin.
"Fuck," he breathes, and you open your eyes again to see him staring at you, eyes still dark and pupils blown wide, "Swallow it, pretty girl."
You close your mouth and swallow all of it, reveling in the salty taste on your tongue and in the back of your throat. You bring a trembling hand to your mouth, push the leftovers from your cheeks and chin past your lips, swallowing a second time.
"Good girl," he whispers, leaning down to push your hair out of your eyes, "That's my good girl, did so fucking well for me. Did everything I said."
"I'm yours, Joel," you whisper, voice completely wrecked, "I'm your good girl."
--
He cleans you up tenderly, pressing kisses to your skin every now and then as he takes a warm washcloth and wipes you down, pays extra attention to your sensitive spots and lets you lay there in peace. He's so sweet, so gentle, you'd hardly know it was the same Joel who walked out on you back at the ski lodge.
But it is the same Joel. He's just finally let himself have what he wants, finally let himself give you what you want. When he climbs in bed beside you and wraps his arms tightly around you, you've never felt so desired in your entire life. He kisses your face all over, whispers praises, tells you how beautiful you are, makes you feel wanted.
"You asleep?" he asks you softly, hands running up and down your arms soothingly.
"In and out," you murmur back, "You really did a number on me."
He chuckles quietly, kisses your cheek and holds you tighter, "I know. It was okay, right? I didn't go too far?"
"It was perfect," you reply sincerely, leaning back into his touch, "It was everything I ever wanted, better than anything I imagined."
He smiles against your skin, "Good, I'm glad."
You both lay there in the silence of his bedroom for a few more moments, listening to each other's breathing. He kisses the back of your neck, noses your skin and inhales your scent.
"Are you still afraid?" you ask quietly, "You can tell me, I want you to be honest."
He takes a few moments to reply, sighing deeply and bringing one of his hands down to hold tightly to yours. You squeeze his back, quietly reminding him that you're here, that you're not going anywhere.
"I am," he says softly, voice barely a whisper, "But not so much anymore. I think it'll be easier now."
"It will be," you reassure him quietly, tightening your grip on his hand, "I'm here for you, okay? Every step of the way."
He nuzzles into your hair, presses himself against you and sighs contentedly, "Okay."
You close your eyes, focusing on the perfection of this moment, the feeling of his body so close to yours, warming you up and keeping you safe. You can't help but notice how perfectly your bodies fit together, how right it feels to be lying together like this.
"By the way," he whispers suddenly, "You'll be my patrol partner again, right?"
You grin, tilting your head back slightly so his cheek brushes against your temple, relishing in the feeling of his stubble against your skin, so natural, so easy.
"I thought you'd never ask."
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i can't believe how long this took me to write but i'm so glad i finally finished it. this isn't the end of soft!dom joel, but i would consider it the end of their story, most likely. i'll probably write some more smutty one-shots for them, but i doubt i'll write anything for them again with this much detail. i feel pretty satisfied with this.
let me know what you think!!! i love hearing yalls feedback, it makes me so happy. i also have a kofi if you'd like to leave me a tip. thank you so much for reading 💖
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scribs-dibs · 1 month
Text
i'm an orange moon...
(reflecting the light of the sun)
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major spoilers for 2.1, gn reader, it got a bit angsty i didn't meaaaan itttt, aventurine is touch starved and you Know how i feel about touchsta💥
wc; ~ 1.6k
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“Aventurine,” the false lights of Penacony dance in your eyes when you look at him, and something sickening and foreign twists in his chest. “May I hold your hand?”
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Aventurine knows how to be an actor. He does so easily— his carefully crafted mask is more familiar than his own face. He is a performer first and a person second, because there is not a time or place on this or any planet where he can afford to lose anything more. The pieces of himself are barely put together, what is left of him seems to seep like sand between his very fingers. His family, his planet, himself, torn to ruin. And yet it is said that fate smiles upon him. The fractured pieces of himself are a blessing. What a funny thing fate must be, if his hell is said to be a heaven.
The mask must never slip, not even once— his life is a stage, corpses weighing heavy on his back, grasping hands chaining his feet, screams tearing his eardrums to shreds, and yet he must walk it anyway. And Aventurine will, and he will do it without missing a step. For this is what it means for him to live, his every breath a sin.
Aventurine knows how to keep a poker face. He does so easily— his smile is trained never to meet his eyes, it doesn’t know how to, and his hypnotic eyes are always trained on his next opponent, never leaving or faltering. He can’t afford to look away, to see what could possibly come next— to see what could hurt him, next. Aventurine could control nothing in his life. He couldn’t control the Katicans as they laughed as they took his father, or his mother, or his sister, and he couldn’t control when his swine of a master forced him to murder his fellow slaves, either. But he can control who he gets close to. He can control who he lets in, who is allowed to see what he looks like when his walls finally crumble.
Which, of course, is no one.
So it comes easily when he pushes well-meaning gestures away, or refuses a favor with that soft, styrofoam smile and a laugh. It’s not just second-nature, no. It’s the only one he has left.
Aventurine knows he doesn’t deserve the sanctity of being loved. This fact comes to him easily– all who have dared to try have been disappointed, and all who had mattered to him are gone. He knows it well, he is far too many pieces, far too broken, far too much of a mess for someone to come to try and fix. And this is fine, because he doesn’t have the experience to even fantasize about what he is supposedly missing. The closest semblance to friends that he has may as well be rivers or oceans away, with the amount of distance he has put between them and himself.
So you. You are strange to him.
Aventurine does not know what the hell your deal is. He doesn’t know how you got so close. He doesn’t know why you bother.
“Aventurine,” the false lights of Penacony dance in your eyes when you look at him, and something sickening and foreign twists in his chest. “May I hold your hand?”
That gives him pause. For a moment, his lips part, and his brows threaten to furrow under the weight of his pure bafflement. But, as always, his mask slips back on easily, a kind smile slotted into place.
“Oh? Afraid of getting lost?”
You walk beside him on the streets of Golden Hour, taking in the sequins disguised as stars and the specially-manufactured cool night air. He can’t tell if you’re naive or just easily impressed.
“No,” you say with a shake of your head, “Maybe I just…felt like it.”
Aventurine does not change anything in his face. There isn’t so much as a slow bob of his Adam's apple as he swallows, or a look of conflict crossing his features. There is no hesitation in his face, his mask, at all. But even so, when you look at him, through him, your kind smile finds a way to become kinder, and the tenderness in your eyes somehow becomes more potent.
“We don’t have to,” you don’t look disappointed, or even expectant, at all, “We can keep walking. Just this is enough as it is.”
“Just this” is the oddly peaceful silence as the two of you walk together. Your presence is comparable to a sun he never got acquainted with— he’s used to the storms, to the rock and sand, to the unyielding weather he was forced to endure, but this is different. This is just a walk, and there’s no search for water while the taste of blood coats his tongue, or the threat of thunder or biting cold. It is just peace at its purest. He extends his hand.
“Far be it for me to argue. Be my guest.”
You light up immediately, elated. He's thankful for his shades— the brightness of you is blinding. And he isn't quite prepared for the feel of you. Even through his gloves he feels the warmth of your hands— it is everything he is not. His own are ruined; he was pried from his home, and forced to take a bloody, bloody climb back up to earn his own humanity again. Aventurine’s hands are ruined beyond repair— no amount of washing can cleanse them, but yours, yours are so different. They aren't fully soft, you have work and hardships of your own, but they are gentle. Taking your hand feels easy because there are no expectations or commands hidden in the grooves of your palms. There are no hidden weapons behind your back, there is nothing but the feeling of flesh against the dark smoothness of his glove, and for a moment, he almost finds himself staggering.
How long has it been, since he touched another with no expectations? To not force himself to be overly friendly, to not appease anyone for the sake of getting information, to just exist, with someone else's hand in his?
The last willing touch he remembers feeling came with his fingers dipped in blood, salty tears thick on his taste buds. This is different from that. This is worlds away from that.
And Aventurine does not know how to feel. He doesn't know how to arrange his mask in response. There is no light in his eyes, not anymore, at least, but for a moment they are so wide with shock that Golden Hour’s stars swirl in the mix of blue and purple— a complex, vulnerable galaxy. Aventurine does not know how to feel. And it bothers him.
The tips of your fingers slide from his palms to the tips of his own, raking tiny sparks across the fabric of his gloves. Your fingers are interlocked now, and his head is spinning. You're everywhere. Under his gloves, under his skin, everywhere, and it's troubling. Strangely, he doesn't want to let go. For a moment —one that is fleeting and miniscule, barely a blink of an eye— his mask softens, melting around symptoms of genuine comfort, but his wounded heart kicks in defiance. The mask clicks back into place when your gaze meets his again, a smooth, porcelain smile easily greets you. Just as it has been taught to.
(His hands are nice. You know he thinks differently, has been taught to think differently, but they are firm under your palms and quickly warm to your touch.)
“Shall we?”
Distantly, he is aware of the implications of holding hands on a busy city street, encircled by onlookers and gossiping figures— this is the behavior of lovers, friends, family, people who are much, much closer than the two of you are. But your touch is…pleasant. It could mean trouble for you, to be seen with him when so many people have him under such a careful watch, (He is never truly free of people's stares or of their suspicion, and this makes associating with him more than a hassle.) but you know this, and have yet to keep your distance. Experimentally, he flexes his fingers around yours. It's faint, and a gamble if nothing else, but you squeeze him back almost immediately.
Aventurine knows he is greedy. This is intertwined into his being almost as tightly as the hold of your hands. He knows that this is a rare, fleeting moment, one that he will never get to indulge in again —not when his plans to discover the truth of Penacony are sure to succeed— and he knows that he will long for it once it ends, the sweetness of it clinging to his teeth. But he wants it. He wants this singular moment of peace, of keeping the mask on but for once not needing to perform. The city is busy as ever, bustling crowds and cheerful chatter echo up into the walls of tall buildings. It would be nice, to continue your walk together like this, with your soft, sunny hand in his. It would satiate his greed, if only for a moment.
But Aventurine knows he is not worth your time.
“It's been lovely, really,” he almost slips— he almost winces when your face falls. You aren't as practiced as he is when it comes to keeping a poker face. “But I really must be going.” His hand slides out from underneath yours, but it is not as easy as he thought it’d be. The ghost of your touch already serves to haunt him. A few steps back, and your warmth still lingers.
“Take care out there, alright?” he says it with a tilt of his head, his best, practiced and perfect smile easing the tension from your shoulders. Performing again, this time for a private audience.
He only gets a few steps away before you call for him again.
Aventurine knows how to pretend not to hear and keep walking.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
rbs w/comments are appreciated!! <33
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miirohs · 8 months
Text
he looks up, grinnin' like a devil [r.n.z]
pairing: OPLA!Roronoa Zoro x Fem!Reader wc: 0.5k cw: minor spoilers an: i feel like this man needs a fic from my bc he lives in my head rent free. anyways dont get mad at me if this isnt accurate lol i did everything based off the live action n i plan on reading the manga (eventually)
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"Zoro?" You huffed, laying still on the floor of the quarterdeck, eyes shut as you bathed in the sunlight.
There was no response and you frowned, calling again.
"Zoroooo."
A few beats of silence, followed by clunking on wood and and a grunt as shade was cast over your closed eyes. There was a thump and you grinned.
"What?"
You cracked open an eye lazily, staring at Zoros' face as he bent over you, watching you closely.
"Are you mad at me for yelling for you?" You muttered, head bumping against his leg, crossed under the other that his arm rested on.
"Maybe. I was trying to take a nap. Didn't work anyways. What are you doing up here?" You simply turned your head towards him, eyes flitting over his face for what seemed like the thousandth time.
No matter how many times you saw him, you could never seem to get over his profile.
"I was helping Sanji with the tangerines. He needed my help picking the fruit and watering the plants." You sighed, turning on your side.
He made a face, somewhere between disbelief and what looked like jealousy, but you couldn't tell. Not as the sun glared at you from behind him.
"He promised me food if i helped him," you protested at his look, rolling your eyes, "Don't look at me like that."
"How does that pertain to me? I never said anything." He shot back, failing to hide the flustered look at his eyes as he realized you'd caught him. "Zoroooo- you're making the face again," You giggled, rolling onto your stomach to stare at him.
He pretended to look confused, but you knew him like the back of your hand, thinly veiled distress underlying his features.
"Give it up Zo, you're jealous!" You teased, running a finger along the hemming of his pants. "Am not," he said plainly, averting your eyes.
"Am too-" You hummed.
"Am. not." He leaned down, baring his teeth slightly. His earrings jingled in the wind, gently swayed by the breeze.
Before you could stop yourself, you grabbed his face, fingers grazed barely by the golden earrings.
There were freckles littered all over his face, barely noticeable unless you looked close enough.
You hadn't realized they were there until after the fight with Mihawk, when you stayed at his side, leaning over him hoping he would wake up. They were like little mini constellations, a galaxy you could kiss, although you had never said that to his face.
"Have i ever told you how pretty you look?" You left kiss after kiss on his cheeks, skin burning despite how stoic he looked on the outside. "You've got a grin like the devil yet the aura of an angel."
"Shouldn't i be saying that to you?" He huffed, pulling you closer. He obviously didn't want to let you go.
"You should. I want to hear it more from you," you said, expectant for the tiniest bit more you could milk from this, "tell me how much you love me."
Zoro's gruff exterior softened slightly as he looked into your eyes, whispering under bated breath, "You're as beautiful as always, Y/n."
"Well, in that case," you said playfully, "you're incredibly handsome, Zoro. My one and only."
A rare smile played on his face, and you looked around quickly, leaning in to give him a soft kiss. The breeze seemed to pick up, salty sea air filling your lungs.
As you broke the kiss, you let out a laugh, "I think we both needed that."
Zoro nodded in agreement. "Yeah, maybe I'm a bit jealous, but I can't stand the thought of you spending too much time with that damn cook."
You chuckled, running your fingers through his green hair. "Don't worry, Roronoa. You're the only one I want."
He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you. "Good," he murmured, resting his forehead against yours. "Because you're the only one i need."
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penguinsfly · 2 months
Text
I unfortunately saw something I didn't want to see and that was my last straw. I'm fucking doing this.
Let's establish this first. Alastor is stated in the show to be asexual that is not up to discussion. He is also very heavily implied in the same conversation to be aromatic. 'An Ace in the hole' being used in context of him being with Charlie is also implying his aromanticism.
VIDEO
If that's not enough then here is Viv speaking about his romantic orientation. It's pretty clear despite the fact that afterwards she said it's okay to headcanon whatever (it's not but I will get o that later) that he is written purely as an aro ace character.
On top of that going by Alastor's interaction with Angel from the pilot and the first episode it is clear that he is sex repulsed. Not only that but on the fandom website he is stated to be touch averse with two sources which you can check out on the website.
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Hazbin hotel wiki, Alastor page
Now we established that Alastor is canonically Asexual, Aromantic, Sex Repulsed and Touch Averse
As I also am all of the above I'll try to explain everything to the best of my ability as simply as I can.
Aromanticism and Asexuality.
I'm probably targeting the audience that knows those terms but regardless I will explain it anyway.
Aromantic - people that experience little to no romantic attraction towards any gender
Asexual - people that experience little to no sexual attraction towards any gender.
Little to no
Asexuality and aromanticism are spectrums in which people can feel certain attractions towards people but those attractions are less occurring or are defined by personal connection.
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Diagram from AVEN website
However some people are at the end of the spectrum, they never felt attraction and that's valid. Alastor was stated to be aroace he wasn't written as demi or as gray he was written as aroace as in the end of the spectrum. His repulsion and not giving shit about romance or sex speaks for itself.
Representation
I do understand that everyone wants to be represented but it's so important to understand that aroace people are one of the most underrepresented queer groups in the media.
And I'm not here to scream about how I want my fav character to be just like me I don't care for it I'm way too confident in my orientation to rely on that however I'm tired of explaining to people what asexuality and aromanticism is just to receive 'are you sure' or 'you'll change your mind' or 'its not real' or the community favourite 'you'll find the right person' no I won't I'm not looking thank you very much (I just smile and nod to be polite and I'm sick of it).
'Harmless' buts like: 'He might be on the spectrum', 'AroAce people can still feel attraction' hurt the final outcome for all the people on the spectrum not only strictly aroaces because it allows people to write one shots with 'Demi Alastor' that falls in love in 2000 words because he is 'demi' (spoiler alert: they don't understand what that label means). It's just a cover, an opening, sneaky way to disregard his orientation, feel good about themselves and move on. Newsflash there is no moving on for aroace people it's our life.
Shipping
Shipping is just harmless fun right? Usually yes but not in this case. In the same way its not okay to ship gay characters with genders they are not attracted to.
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It's erasure and since there is much less people identifying on aro/ace spectrums then there is gay or bi people our voices are being silenced. Not to mention that gay people received support from entire LGBTQIA+ community over the years in contrast to aro/ace specs who to this day are told that we are 'not queer enough' or 'not oppressed enough' often by other queer people.
And finally... FINALLY we get cannon Aro/Ace character that is clearly not interested in romance and sex. Character that beats stereotypes of boring and timid aro/ace people and what's the first people do? They ship him. Alastor's storyline provides so many points to be explored like 'what is his backstory', ' what's about his deal', ' how does he fit in in the found family trope' , 'does he care about hotel guests' yet people choose to write about the only thing that he is not interested in. As a heavily repulsed person that used to be horrified about the fact that I'll have to fall in love with somebody at some point before I found out what aro/ace is I find it repulsive and trust me he would too.
But Viv said it's okay!
Its the same point once again. What if Viv said that it's okay to ship gay Angel with woman. She doesn't have authority to say shit like that.
Queerplatonic relationships
I can't tell you not to do it I don't think he would be necessary interested in it but for fuck sake do your research and try to understand what queerplatonic means before you use it as a cover to shamelessly ship him. Respect the fact that he is sex repulsed and touch averse and you're fine.
Why can't you just avoid it?
First of all I shouldn't have to. Alastor's orientation should be respected in the fandom like any other orientation is. Second of all I've tried. I tried to only look up AroAce Alastor tag I've blocked over 80 people on tumblr alone (I just counted) to avoid to see anything that could trigger me and I'm not talking about slightly shippy posts or fanarts I'm talking about full blown disregard towards his orientation. Guess what it didn't work!
Archive of our own where do I start. I've used this website for over a decade and I could probably count days I didn't go there on my fingers. I'm fluent in AO3 I know which tags I should block. I know how to skim thorough the summary and tags to see if I'm interested. I've seen shit I'm a shipper I've been on ao3 for ten years but never had to mentally prepare myself to face queerphobia as I click on the tab.
Just use aro/ace Alastor tag.
I do and let me tell you people can't tag for shit or they just pretend to be clueless at this point. Besides see this?
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there is more ff with Alastor/reader (disgusting) than there is Alastor with his canon orientation and to play the devils advocate for arophobic people there is more Angel/Alastor then his stated in the show sexuality. I understand that fandom goes back before the show was aired but Viv confirmed his orientation back then too.
Summary
I could go on and on bout different issues and maybe I will in the future but I'm not wasting anymore of this weekend on it. I'm ready to answer any questions as long as they are respectful.
I'm aware that he is a fictional character, it doesn't affect him in any way whatsoever but it does affect aromantic and asexual people keep it in mind.
If there are any mistakes grammar related I'm not sorry I'm fluent in English (not my first language) but I took 3h nap in between and I'm sleep deprived.
Have a nice day.
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spdrvyn · 11 months
Note
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TSUNDERE MIGUEL O'HARA THAT IS DENYING HIS FEELINGS FOR READER WHILE HE ACTIVELY THINKS ABOUT THEM 24/7 AND KNOWS ALL THEIR CUTE LITTLE QUIRKS (READER CAN BE SPIDERMAN OR NORMAL PERSON YOUR CHOICE) PLEASE I NEED TRUNDERE MIGUEL SO MUCH IM DYING IM STARVING *sob sob cry sob*
love, your best friend Dre <3
i won't say i'm in love — MIGUEL O'HARA
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(( uhhh .... i have no clue who this motherfucker is! jk lol hi tommy [ you slut ] here is your severely in denial miguel fic, spoiler free. ))
"Lyla, arrange this mess."
Miguel waved his hand at the AI, eyes focused on the glowing screen in front of him. He always had the habit of keeping a messy desktop, though it wasn't a big problem for him considering his trusty artificial intelligence assistant.
To which the trusty artificial intelligence would poke and tease Miguel in response. At times, he really wondered if Lyla was secretly being controlled by a human. A pesky, occasionally annoying, childish human that constantly pushed his buttons.
"What's the magic word, Miguel?"
He groaned bringing his index finger and thumb to the bridge of his nose, massaging the stress lines that have formed from constantly being teased and played with.
"...Please."
Lyla lets out an electric hum, her avatar glitching into a thinking pose. She stares at Miguel with a confused look through her heart-shaped sunglasses. "Sorry. The signal in here is so bad. What was that?"
"I said, please, Lyla. Get to work."
"Oh, don't worry. I heard you the first time."
The man lets out a defeated sigh, he's given up on trying to defend himself against Lyla. Even when he's old and withered, this charade will continue like a never-ending circus show.
Multiple screens pop up in front of the AI, to which Miguel bashfully averts his gaze. He's normally organized enough, in the workplace but he's also very busy. Little things like putting files in the folders they belong simply evades his mind sometimes.
However, one file in particular stood out in front of him from the corner of his eye. It was a drive, among all the others that are colored in the regular shade of blue and labeled accordingly, this one was highlighted in pink with a little heart symbol at the end.
"Lyla, what's that?"
Her avatar glitches again into her in a sitting position, a little teacup in her hands as she takes a fake sip. "Hmm? I don't know, I don't see anything. Which one are you talking about?"
"Ay dios mío... The one in pink, Lyla. What is it?"
"Ohhh..." An obviously fake display of surprise makes itself present on Lyla's face, she opens the file. "This is a drive of all of the times you talked about that recruit. Lovingly, might I add."
Miguel's eyes darted around the screen, folding his arms over his chest. There were many, many videos of him. The scroll bar just kept going like there was no end.
Hesitantly, he pointed to one among the sea of videos and Lyla opened it. The playback goes as follows, the 'recording' is from her perspective, it seems.
Miguel is hunched over his desk, mumbling nonsense to himself until it becomes more coherent as Lyla approaches him.
"Whatcha' got there?"
The camera shifts and zooms over to Miguel's hand, to where he's holding a small tupperware. Filled to the brim with baked goodies, a small sticky note is pasted to the top of it however the writing is too tiny to make anything of it.
'They got me a gift.'
'That's the third one this week.'
His chest heaves as he lets out a deep sigh.
'...I know.'
A small moment of silence before Miguel continues speaking.
'Esto es tan tonto. I don't why they keep bringing me these... these things! I don't know why they keep smiling brighter than sun when they give them to me!'
Miguel frustratingly opens the tupperware, brings one of the pastries close to his mouth and takes a big bite. A small groan escapes his throat.
'I don't know what they're putting in these things to make them so delicious! Giving them to me, of all people. Stupid, stupid, stupid. So smart they are. Agile, strong, and capable and— and kind...'
Another bite.
'You know that you've gotten them gifts before, right?'
'But they all look idiotic next to this. Made with their precious time and care. Putting in the effort to make sure that they actually taste good and they do,'
Miguel closes the tupperware with a loud snap.
'¿A quién estoy engañando? They're amazing.'
"Miguel?"
That wasn't part of the recording. Miguel swipes at the screen and it fades out of existence, little pixels hovering in his sight before it completely disintegrates. Lyla disappears too as you swing onto the platform of his office.
He tenses up once he sees you, leaning a hand against his desk. God, he definitely did not want to look at you after what he just watched. He especially did not want to look at you because of the blush that stained his cheeks. Thankfully, mostly hidden by the darkness of his chambers.
Of course, you greeted him with the same warm smile.
"Haven't seen you all day today. Are you doing alright?"
"Fine. Doing fine. Just cleaning, why are you here?" Says Miguel, he despised how his heart pounded in his chest so loudly right now. Whenever he was around you.
Being so composed was what he was known for, what he was respected for. Yet, everytime you even look in the same direction as him, his exterior just melts.
"I just wanted to check in on you, was all. I noticed you haven't come out in a while, I brought you an empanada from the cafeteria just in case you were hungry."
You toss the small container to him and he catches it in one hand, he could hardly comprehend what was going on right now. Staring mindlessly at the box. "Thank you."
"Of course. Take care of yourself for me, I'll... head out now."
He watches over the edge as you fall off the platform, landing onto ledge that separates his desk from the rest of the room.
"Can you start ranting now? I want to get this drive up to 600 videos."
Miguel grumbles, opening the box and biting into the delectable snack before going back to organizing his desktop.
3K notes · View notes
hyunniesgirl · 6 months
Text
Another Love | Part 2
Summary: you've been hopelessly in love with Han since you were children. One night you confess your feelings to him.
Words count: 5,302
Warnings: a bit of angst
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
>> Masterlist <<
A/N: hello!! I'm really happy about the feedback I got on the first part, I got sick and stressed because of work that's why it took me a bit long to post this part, I'll try and be faster for the next ones. Spoiler: things will get more interesting on the next part.
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Han couldn't sleep, couldn't eat or even function properly since the day you left, it was so strange not having you around. He wakes up, gets to work, the boys make him eat something, they practice, then they eat something again because they know he's going home to starve himself in his pit of misery, then he gets home, takes a shower and goes to sleep.
He's always anxious, too afraid of losing you, every time he looks at his phone he's scared that a message from you will come saying you don't want to be near him anymore, saying you are not coming back.
He really wishes he could like you back, why wouldn't he? You're pretty, smart and funny. But he just never thought about you in that way, he's not sure why. You were always just his best friend, the one person that encouraged him to do the crazy things he wanted, the one person that got his back when things didn't work out, the first one he told when he passed the audition to be a trainee.
When he saw you at the party he was happy to see you smiling with other people, he was usually the one making you laugh but it made him relieved to see you were okay even if it was not with him.
It hurt so much when you ran away from him, he was already feeling bad but that made everything worse. So he drank more and more until he wasn't feeling anything anymore.
He saw the guy you were hanging out with, he was with his friends and you were nowhere to be found and even though he knew you didn't want to talk to him he went after you.
He found you outside, seated on the floor probably getting some fresh air or waiting for Hannah.
When you saw him he wished he didn't go after you at all. Everything happened so fast that he almost didn't manage to hold you before you walked past him running away again.
Han just couldn't let you leave like that, he was that desperate. He wanted to make you stay no matter what and he hurt you once more.
Was he even a good friend at this point? How many times can you possibly hurt someone and still be called a friend? He felt like trash waking up in the morning and remembering everything.
Chan insisted on coming home with him, he was feeling too guilty and too tired to protest, so he let his friend crash on the sofa.
Since Chan was there, Jisung should have expected a full breakfast when he got to the kitchen. Eggs, bacon and toast were waiting for him, but he didn't feel like eating.
"I feel awful, do you think I should go there and apologize to her?" Han asks and Chan shakes his head.
"She needs time, that's all you can give her now"
Han sighs, his anxiety going through the ceiling. He's lost, not sure if it's possible for things to go back to the way it was.
He could tell how worried you got when you saw him at the party, he knows too well the face you make when you want to scold him for not taking care of himself. So he spent the next week trying to get back on his feet, he doesn't want you feeling bad, he wants you to think the least about him so you can get over him soon enough.
So much happened during this time you were not with him, they finished their album and were going to Japan in two weeks. He wanted to show you their music, their new concept, the outfits, you always loved to see the clothes they would wear. You probably already know all of this, since you're living with Seungmin but he wanted to be the one showing you so he could see you smile and feel your support.
>><<
The group had gone to Japan, that included Seungmin, so he asked Hannah to stay with you in his apartment while he was away. It's nice spending so much time with her, there is this boy in her communication class she is absolutely sure will match perfectly with you, even though you already told her you don't want to deceive anyone, the thing with Heeseung made you feel bad enough. You know she's insisting on it because she cares about you, but you don't want to start a new relationship already on the wrong foot.
"I'm sure he's great, but I won't be going out with other people until I feel like I'll be able to get over Jisung"
"And when is that?" She asks frustrated, "I know a lifelong crush won't go away in a month but don't you think you have to meet other people and open up?"
You sigh, you just don't want to hurt anyone during your process of healing.
"If I find someone I like, I'll go out with them, alright? But don't set me up with random people"
She huffs, nodding, that's better than nothing.
Since Han is away, you take the opportunity and go to your apartment. You need some books, you have been borrowing Hannah's in an attempt to avoid going there to pick up yours.
There's nothing different in the house, you don't know if you should feel glad or sad about that. Although your life is turned upside down, things are still the same. You are sure you just need a little more time, things will get better soon.
You know that, because it didn't hurt as much as you thought going back to your apartment, you expected it would be much worse. Maybe it's because he's not there? That could be it but you have hope that the overall pain is gone, that it's not going to be so bad when you see him again.
Of course, as Hannah said, a lifelong love won't go away in a month, nor in two or five months, you're not sure even a year is enough but you can't wait until then, he's still your best friend and you miss him like crazy.
You're going to come back home when you're sure you let go of these feelings. Yes, it's going to be hard being with him but it's harder to stay away from your best friend.
So when you feel like you're finally open to meet new people without comparing them to Jisung and not feel like you're tricking them, when you feel like you can like someone else without feeling guilty, that's when you'll know you are starting to get over Han.
You take some clothes out of your wardrobe and put them in the bag with your books. Hannah is coming to pick you up since Seungmin let you use his car while he's away.
"Are you moving, ma'am?" Hannah asks, seeing your huge bag.
"A girl needs to be prepared", you answer and she laughs.
"Do you want some coffee?", you hum in agreement while turning on the radio.
You feel like it's finally peaceful in your head.
>><<
It's been some time since you visited your family, your parents call you every week to check on you and Jisung but when the holidays come you two have to go back home.
That's how you ended up in the car with him, it's not a long trip since you're going just outside of Seoul but it's still awkward.
This is the first time you're seeing each other after the party. The whole trip it seems like Han wants to say something, but he doesn't, he keeps stealing glances at you, opening his mouth and then closing again like he just thought it better to stay in silence.
"For fucks sake, just say what you want to say", you tell him minutes before your arrival at your family’s home.
He flinches, looking at you with puppy eyes.
"I wanted to apologize, about the whole thing at the party", he clears his throat, fidgeting in his seat.
You stare at him for a few seconds. Even though it hurts, the whole situation is less painful then you thought it would be.
When you received the call from your parents telling you to come home with Han on the weekend you couldn't say no, you don't want them to know about all the drama and before you could make up some excuse about Han's schedule they told you he already had agreed to go.
You exchanged messages with him, setting up the time for him to pick you up at Seungmin's place and you dreaded every minute of every day thinking about the moment you would have to face Jisung again.
When you got into his car, you felt uncomfortable. You made some small talk and left at that, hoping he wouldn't keep trying to talk. It's been two months since you confessed, maybe your heart is already accepting the fact that you and your best friend are just that, friends.
Of course it still hurts, you're not sure how you're going to feel seeing him with a girlfriend, but you hope it'll only get easier from now on.
"It's okay", you say. "You were drunk, let's not think too much about it"
"But I hurt you, again", he sighs, looking at you with a frown on his face.
"Yeah, you did", you sigh, "but you're my best friend and you apologized, I'm not going to hold that against you"
He parks the car, but doesn't make any movement to get out. Jisung is staring at his hands, holding the wheel.
"You're too soft on me", he mumbles.
"I know", you smile sadly, "it's just how things are between us", you open your door urging him to get out. You already can imagine your mothers making a fuss about why you stayed so long inside the car instead of going inside.
Your parents come out while you're going through the gate, your mom has a bright smile on her face and is waiting to give you a hug. It's good to be in her embrace again, her warmth makes you feel like everything will be okay.
"You lost so much weight, aren't you taking care of her?" Han's mother scolds him while giving you a hug and feeling you out.
"It's my fault, school is just crazy right now", you tell her, hugging her back.
"Nonetheless, you should eat", she looks back at your mother, "let's double the side dishes we packed for them", and your mom nods, going back inside with her best friend.
You take a deep breath, receiving a sympathetic smile from Han before he goes into the house. It's going to be a long day.
The lunch is somewhat calm, other than the dozens of questions your families ask to you two. About college, about living by yourselves, about Han's trips, how you stay alone and how that's dangerous, they ask about everything like they don't talk to you every week.
"I forgot the ice cream", your father says, slapping the palm of his hand onto his forehead and you can already predict the scolding he's going to receive from your mother. So you jump on your feet, offering to go to the convenience store to buy some.
"Go with her", Han's father says and he nods.
You wish he didn't, it's suffocating being so close to your best friends while still uncertain of your circumstances, but if you say you don't want to, they are going to ask why and having to explain that is going to be worse than spending the day with Jisung.
You walk quietly, looking at the houses on the street. Everything is still the same, other than some renovations made to the old houses there's nothing new. The convenience store is a ten minute walk away from your house. It's good walking a bit after eating so much, the thing you miss the most about living with your parents is your mother's food.
"Which flavor?" Jisung asks while looking into the freezer.
"My mom likes strawberry and yours like chocolate, let's take both", he nods.
"Oh my god, y/n and Jisung?" You hear that damn voice you can't forget even after almost 10 years.
You put on your best smile and turn around slowly.
"Hi, Haneul", you say, poking Han with your elbow, he's still focused on choosing ice cream.
"Oh, hey", he nods at Haneul, closing the freezer.
She eyes you two up and down and smiles.
"Are you finally dating?" She squeals and you can tell she's just being mean.
"No", you answer before Jisung can even open his mouth, he glances at you with a frown.
"I'm sorry, y/n, it seems not every teenage crush works out", she pouts, smiling even more now that she got what she wanted.
You watch as she turns around, walking more deep into the store and you grab the ice creams from Han's hands, going to the cashier to pay for it.
Haneul hated you ever since Jisung dragged you to go on their date in middle school, it's not your fault but you always guessed she blamed you for things not working out with him.
You want to cry, not because you're sad but because you feel humiliated. It's so frustrating knowing that everyone has always known about your feelings for Han, it's even worse to think one day a lot of your school classmates are going to see his wedding pictures with you as the third wheel as always and think of how much of a loser you're.
"How did she know about that?" He asks when you get out of the store.
"I don't think I did a good job at hiding my feelings", you shrug.
Han stops on his tracks, you only realize that after giving a few steps and you look back to see him staring at you with a confused face.
"Was I the only one that didn't know?" He asks and you sigh, you're not really in the mood to have this conversation.
"Our parents probably don't know either", you say and he huffs.
"I'm not joking, y/n! Why didn't you ever tell me?"
"What difference would it make if you knew?" You yell, finally losing it. You can feel the tears brimming in your eyes, but you won't cry, you were finally feeling a bit better and you're not going to waste another tear on this one sided love.
"Things could have been different, I could have been more careful, I could have told you to-"
He stops mid sentence knowing he shouldn't finish the sentence, but it's already too late.
"Would you have told me to move on?" You scoff, looking around to avoid the tears. "It's not that easy Jisung, this is not the same love you felt in your relationships that lasted three months", you know you're just being mean now, but you can't control it, not with all the hurt you're feeling. "I've been in love with you for years, don't you think I was afraid of that? Of you telling me that years of me pining over you were worth nothing?"
You turn around, "tell our parents that I met someone from high school and I'll be back later", you don't give him time to say anything back before you walk away.
After a few minutes, you feel the tears running down your face. At least you avoided crying in front of him.
Why does it have to be so hard? Why can't you just forget about him already? This process is taking too long and too much of your energy.
You sit in the park, wiping your tears and looking at the children playing. Everything was easier when you were at that age, you had no worries other than if it would rain the day you would go play with your friends outside or which present to give your parents on their birthday.
You look at your phone, answering your messages, your mother sent you a text telling you to not stay out too late but you don't think you'll be able to go back and stay in the same room as Han right now.
"Y/n?" You hear a strangely familiar voice, you look up and see a handsome man walking towards you. You're sure you know his face, but you just can't remember who it is.
He sees your frown and laughs.
"Jeongho? From middle school", he tells you and your eyes widen.
"Oh my god, Jeongho! How are you?" You ask and he smiles, he grew up really well. He's much taller now but he's still as handsome.
"I'm doing well, what about you?" He asks, sitting by your side, "are you visiting your family?"
"I'm great", you smile and nod, "yeah, Jisung and I came to visit"
What are the odds of you meeting Haneul and Jeongho of all people right after you confessed to Han? The universe really must be playing with you.
"I heard that you are living in Japan", you continue.
"Yeah, I came here just for the holiday", he explains, "actually, I come by pretty often to Korea", he clears his throat, looking at you. "Are you and Jisung a thing now?" He asks and you smile painfully, why must you answer this question twice in a day?
"No, still just friends", you tell and he smiles.
He nods, mumbling 'ah'.
"And… by any chance are you single?" He asks and you nod, feeling embarrassed. "Well, that's good news for me", he says, receiving a confused look from you while handing you his phone, "mind giving me your number? I'd like to keep in contact with you"
"Oh", you stare at the device for a moment, trying to process what he's saying. Is he interested in you?
"It's okay if you don't want to", he chuckles, "I'm just shooting my shot, knowing you're not with Jisung"
You laugh, releasing the air you didn't even notice you were holding.
"Yeah, sure", you type your number and give it back to him.
He stares at you with a satisfied smile before getting up.
"I have to go now, my family is waiting for me, but I'll text you", he says, flashing a smile and waving goodbye to you.
That was certainly unexpected, you would have never imagined you would meet Jeongho and he would still be interested in you. That lightens up your mood a bit, maybe this time you'll make the right choice and choose the person that likes you back.
You and Han don't share a word on your trip back, you don't want to talk to him and he seems too deep in his thoughts to say anything to you.
You finally can breathe when you get to Seungmin's, he's waiting with Hannah, beer and food, all you needed after this hell of a day.
>><<
You are in a lilac long dress, your friends are all seated in the first row. The church is full of people, some you know, some you're not so sure. You're happy, feeling your heart beat fast and butterflies on your stomach. Jisung is looking directly at you, he smiles with a proud look on his face.
However, before you can step closer to him, a loud piano sound starts playing and after a few seconds you recognize the wedding march. People stand up but they are not looking at you, neither is Han, they are all looking at the church doors where a beautiful woman is entering in a long white dress, a child walks in front of her, throwing roses in her path. The familiar round full cheeks make your stomach sink, why does that child look so much like Han? He doesn't have a younger sibling.
Then, it all sinks in, you're not the bride. Of course not, he's marrying another woman, a beautiful one at that. He's building his life and forming a family and you're just there on the sidelines. The bride steps in front of him and gives you her bouquet, smiling kindly at you.
You open your eyes abruptly, your chest is going up and down at a fast pace and your breathing is heavy, you're soaked in sweat. It was all a dream, a nightmare.
You sit on the sofa, feeling sore, all your muscles are tense. You can't believe you actually dreamt about something like that, your fear of always being there watching your best friend have his own life while still in love with him is taking over, even though you're trying to get over him.
It's two in the morning and you can't go back to sleep. It's better to take a shower and maybe go for a walk to calm your nerves.
The warm bath helps make you relax, but the memories from your dream keeps coming up on your mind again and again.
You text the only person who is probably still awake at this time and your phone buzzes seconds after your message is sent.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of being contacted by my most beautiful friend?” Chan's voice sounds on the other side of the line.
You chuckle.
“I knew you would be awake”, you tell him, fidgeting with your feet while trying to explain what's happening to him without humiliating yourself.
“I had a pretty bad nightmare and wanted to take a walk, maybe eat something? I don't know”, you whisper the last part and Chan sighs, he can tell you're not feeling well.
“Sure, I wanted to take a break anyway”, he says even though he's full of work to do.
You meet at a convenience store nearby, Chan's apartment is not far from Seungmin's since they can't live far away from each other, everyone lives close. You and Jisung did too- cursed man, coming back through your mind even though you're trying to think of anything but him.
“So”, Chan says, taking you out of your thoughts, “Jisungie told me you had a bit of an argument”, he tells you carefully, resting his elbows on the table you two are seated while he holds the beer can.
You sigh, of course he would tell Chan.
“Yeah, we just met someone from middle school during our trip and it ended up like that”, you explain after swallowing a mouthful of the hot spice ramen you have in your hands.
“I know things are not easy right now, for you or for him”, he says carefully, “but you're best friends, you have to communicate and talk things through”
“I guess”, you sigh. It's not easy to talk about Jisung, more so after the dream you had. You thought the worst part was already over, that you were finally getting over him. But it turns out it's not just willingness that makes things happen.
You wake up to your phone buzzing, you look at the time it's almost noon. You look through your messages and can't help but smile, Jeongho has been messaging you everyday since the last time you saw him. It's nice having this kind of attention, he's handsome and nice, maybe it's time for you to open your heart to someone else. The nightmare you had really terrified you, just thinking about it makes your head hurt and your chest ache.
Jeongho: good morning
Jeongho: I'll be in Korea next week, maybe we could have dinner together?
You: morning
You: yeah, that would be great!
You decide to give this a chance, it's not like it is going to kill you and Jeongho is well aware about your longing feelings for Jisung.
You're dressed in a red dress, feeling a bit uncomfortable, formal attire is not your usual outfit choice, but Jeongho set the date in a really fancy restaurant that you're not used to.
Of course you went to fancy restaurants before, the boys took you out often to celebrate their awards and new comebacks but since you always insisted on paying for your meals, they usually went to fancy but still affordable places.
Jisung always offered to pay for your meals, but you never accepted. If he did, you were afraid you would look too much like a couple and your heart might make you even more delusional.
“Good evening, how can I help you?” The receptionist asks and you look around, trying to find your date.
“Hm, hi. I'm here to meet a person, Kang Jeongho?” You eye the list on the counter to try and see if his name is there.
“Yes, mr. Kang is waiting”, he tells you, “may I take your coat?” He asks, gesturing to the long cover you have over you.
“Ah, yes”, you say, taking the piece and giving it to him.
The man gestures for you to follow and you walk behind him to the second floor. Jeongho is waiting at a table close to the window, he's looking at the view that you can see now it's marvelous.
“Mr. Kang”, the receptionist says and Jeongho turns around, giving you a big bright smile while standing up.
“Thank you”, he tells the man who nods at you and walks back to the first floor. “You look beautiful”, he tells you, pulling the chair so you can sit.
“Thank you, I didn't even know there was a second floor in this restaurant”, you say while watching him take his seat.
“Yes, they only open it on special occasions”, he says and you frown, looking around.
“You mean, they opened it so we could eat here?”
He nods, chuckling to your terrified face.
“What are you, the president’s son?” You joke, nervously, suddenly feeling absolutely out of place and underdressed.
“Not at all, you know my father and he's far away from politics”, he jokes back, “I’m friends with the son of the owner, he owed me one so I just asked for a favor”, he shrugs.
You look dumbfounded, who is this guy? Surely not the same teenager that looked absolutely heartbroken when you rejected him in middle school.
“What did you do for him to go to such lengths to pay you back?” You ask, curious.
“I introduced him to his wife”, he smiles, “he's madly in love with her, so this was nothing to how grateful he is to me”
“Oh”, you nod. That must be nice, having someone madly in love with you.
The waiter interrupts your interrogation to ask for your orders, you have no idea what to choose, but Jeongho explains to you each dish, asking if you would like something more spicy, salty or sweet and telling which one he thought you'd like better based on your answers.
“You know, you were my first crush”, Jeongho blurts out after the waiter takes the plates back to the kitchen. You feel your whole face hot, looking at him with wide eyes, “I'm sorry, I just thought you should know”, he smiles and you notice he has some deep dimples in his cheeks.
“I thought you asked me out in middle school because you lost a bet or something”, you put your hands to your cheeks, trying to ease the redness.
“I think you never gave yourself enough credit”, he points out, leaning his face on his hand while watching you. “You were always too focused on Jisung to actually see that I was not the only one looking at you with heart eyes”
You smile sheepishly, you knew your crush on your best friend was going to come up in the conversation at some point, but now that it did you don't know how to talk about it.
“Well, I found out not long ago that I was not as good as I thought at hiding my feelings”, you tell him, “apparently everyone knew that I liked my best friend—except him”
“Am I right to presume that you still have those feelings?” He asks slyly, your heart is beating fast, what if you tell him the truth and he says he doesn't want to see you anymore?
“Actually-”, you sigh, “I'm trying to get over them at the moment”
It's better he knows the truth, so he can enter this aware of your standing.
“Well, that's more than I expected”, he chuckles and you look at him confused, “I thought you were still hang up on him”
“I actually confessed”, you're feeling a bit more confident after his reaction, “and I was rejected, so I don't think there's much for me to hang on anymore”
“So, I'm sorry if I'm being too straightforward- but could I be greedy and believe I have a chance?” He asks and you're sure his eyes are wavering a bit, is he nervous? Did you actually make someone feel that way because of you?
“Yes”, you tell him, biting back a smile and blushing, he smiles at you sighing in relief.
He stands up and reaches his hand out to you.
“Then, shall we take a walk? I have a long way to make you fall for me”, he bites his bottom lip, waiting for you to take his hand.
This is it, the first step for you to get over Han Jisung.
Han sees Lia's lips move but he can't actually hear what she's saying, every word you said the last time, keeps sounding on his mind like a bloody curse.
What would he have done if he had known sooner? Would he have liked you back? Surely not, after all these years he didn't feel anything romantically related towards you, but that may be because he never thought about you in that way. Would he have told you to move on?
"Are you listening?" Jisung hears Lia say and snaps out of his thoughts.
"Yes, of course", he lies, giving her a slight smile and grabbing her hand to squeeze it.
"You're just… acting strange, since you came back from your parent’s house", she frowns.
"It's nothing, I just… had an argument with y/n and now she's mad at me", he tells a half truth.
"I'm sure she's going to forgive you", Lia says, sympathetically, "you're best friends after all"
Han nods, sighing.
He had avoided telling her the whole situation with you, it could make her insecure since you two live together.
There's something different too, he just doesn't feel the same way about her anymore, the burning flame and excitement he felt when they first started going out is slowly dying down and he just doesn't know what to do anymore.
All his previous relationships ended up because he was too busy, or because his personality didn't actually match with the other person, sometimes the girl he was dating just felt uncomfortable about his friendship with you, but he couldn't end years of friendship because he was dating so he ended the relationship.
However, Lia is different. She's great and confident, she doesn't care that he lives with you because she trusts him. She's calm, her personality is nice, she's nice. So why? Why is he feeling like this suddenly? Why is he wavering when it comes to starting this new relationship?
When he gets to practice after a weekend of resting, he is still confused, however, he's trying his best to stay focused on their new album, music is the only thing he is sure of in his life right now.
It's half past the time practice should start and Seungmin is not there yet, after one more song he asks Bangchan about it, he's starting to get worried, what if something happened to you?
“Oh, don't worry about it, he's just interviewing his roommate prospect”, Chan answers.
Han freezes. Then, that means you're going back home?
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A/N: If you like what I write please reblog or let me know in the comments, feedback gives me motivation to keep writing.
Taglist(I won't be tagging people without age in their profile or blank blogs in my content)
@hhwangsmoon @weareapackofstrays @shycreationdreamland @adestayskz @skizmee @ca11me3mily @realviviboss @sofix-hc7 @seungminsapuppy @starsandrqindrops @its-hannjisung @redstayrosie @mae-is-cute98
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book 5 part 6 thoughts!!
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***THIS POST CONTAINS MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR BOOK 7 PART 6 OF THE MAIN STORY!!***
If you’d like to watch a rough part-by-part summarized translation, please check out this archived stream!
Please note: this is NOT meant to be a summary or a translation; these are only my initial thoughts on the events that unfold. There may be details overlooked or misunderstood in this post, so PLEASE do not use this as a translation.
Ew, we're starting off with another map segment... TWST REALLY WANTS TO TIMEGATE OUR TEARS, HUH
Yuu and gang are going to follow the night fae soldiers to Black Scale Castle beyond the mountains. They can't stay too far from the owner of the dream, Lilia! (If you'll remember, they're now taking Tamago-sama there for safety while Meleanor stays behind to fight the Silver Owls.)
Silver hasn't seen Sebek use his UM??? Sebek tells us he learned his UM when Silver got into NRC and Sebek was training by himself. He wanted to be able to rush to Malleus's side at a moment's notice. He knows it is able to turn his own body into lightning and then can use it to move and to attack. However, the spell will damage his body while using it since he has yet to reach mastery. Sebek can't use his magic to rush to Lilia and the others because he wouldn't be able to fight by the time he does.
... ISN'T HIS UM SIMILAR TO ROLLO'S.... JUST TRADE FIRE FOR LIGHTNING...
AW, SEBEK WASN'T PLANNING ON USING HIS SPELL UNTIL HE MASTERED IT... BUT HE STILL USED IT TO SAVE SILVER 😭
Oh, they finally asked the question we were all having. If Malleus made this dream with the intention of it being a happy ending, then why do only sad things happen in Lilia's dream??? Also, why did OB Malleus not come after them yet or kick them out of the dream??? Maybe there's a reason why Malleus can't supervise or enter Lilia's dream??
BAUL LEFT THEM MAGIC TO GUIDE THEM THE RIGHT WAY... HE TRUSTS US TO HELP THEM NOW
Baul fights with an axe. IS HE ABOUT TO HAND IT OVER TO SEBEK (Sebek seems to be holding one in his limited time card)????
Lilia "I won't forgive you if you die!" Vanrouge.
Not both grandpa and grandson volunteering to stay behind to fight and then catch up later... Sebek tells Silver to go ahead and protect Lilia, "You go and protect what is most precious to you. I'm going to protect what is precious to me," (Sebek about Baul) 😭 The night fae are so confused why a human would willingly help them... THI S IS SEBEK'S CHARACTER ARC
SEBEK PROVES HIMSELF A CAPABLE FIGHTER TO HIS GRANDPA!! His hair gets all messy like what's shown in his new SSR. It's raining as well (like in the card art), so this is likely the context for the illustration. The groovy artwork is of Sebek being knighted!!!
adgkuvaodv8yfefvyyeft8wen Sebek makes a big speech about wanting to be their strength!! BAUL ACKNOWLEDGES SEBEK BY NAME INSTEAD OF "HUMAN" AND GRANTS HIM A SOLDIER'S UNIFORM, SEBEK'S BEING OFFICIALLY KNIGHTED FOR THE BRIAR COUNTRY'S IMPERIAL GUARD AND GIVEN A NEW WEAPON... BAUL EVEN GIVES SEBEK HIS OWN CROCODILE MASK
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Zigvolt family lore!! Baul doesn't get along with his human son-in-law, but never distanced himself from his grandchildren. When Baul's only daughter wanted to marry a human, they argued so much about it. To this day, he still doesn't particularly care for humans. Even so, Baul's house has a lot of storybooks and candy prepared for his mixed grandchildren. He won't open them warmly, but it's clear he loves his family.
Silver saves Lilia!! And then Lilia asks Silver to take the egg to Black Scale Castle in his place. There are too many human soldiers on their trail, and Lilia cannot fight them while holding the egg (plus he's already injured from previously protecting Silver at the easternmost fortress).
Yuu has to hold Tamago-sama...
Silver proceeds to carry Lilia like a baby in spite of Lilia saying he'd stay behind and distract the Silver Owls 🤡 NOT SILVER USING LILIA'S OWN TEACHINGS TO TELL DREAM!LILIA THEY STILL HAVE TO TRY AND SURVIVE
The mountains are called the "Forbidden Mountains" and it is said that this is where Maleficent once lived. If you are not blessed by the dragons, the lightning (according to legend) will strike you down. Beyond the mountain is Briar Country's capital city and Black Scale Castle.
Surprisingly, Silver suggests an ambush method (hide and strike at soldiers from behind when they've let their guard down). I guess NRC really did teach him how to be backhanded after all/j
Silver says maybe Malleus can't follow them since he wasn't born yet in Lilia's dream. Magic relies on imagination, and since Malleus cannot imagine what life was like before he was born... that's probably why he can't monitor these circumstances.
Would you look at that 💀 The first real time the story acknowledges that Yuu is in bodily danger; Silver Owls shoot arrows at Yuu because they're holding the egg. Grimmu protects us!! Baby... Best buddy...
SEBEK ARRIVING TO SAVE SILVER (aksldnbaksdbaydasl lol at Sebek being smug about his knighting and trying to act cool even though the lightning is definitely still hurting him...)
Silver Owls retreat!
Oh wow, so they see creeping black thorns similar to when Malleus OB'd; everyone suspects that maybe Meleanor Overblotted too.
Silver mentions that he lives near the Forbidden Mountains but has never climbed them before. The rocks there are very sharp and dangerously jut out. AW, Lilia gives Silver and Yuu his cloak to protect them from the rain and cold. Lilia says the mountain range is full of magic, so its restorative to fae, who draw power from nature.
The way they came from was sealed off by rocks... but Lilia fully intends to go back and help Meleanor...
THEY MADE IT TO THE CASTLE!! It's called Maleficia's castle; we have an official English spelling for Granny Draconia's name. Something, something, Lilia wants to prepare something called the "Cradle Tower".
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WE CUT BACK TO WILD ROSE CASTLE
Like father, like son... The Dawn Knight seems remorseful and wonders where they went wrong, if everyone could have been friends if they had chosen some other way. He wants to dream of a world where all races can live together in peace. "One day, it won't be just a dream, it will be reality." It's phrased very similarly to the wish Lilia made in Wish Upon a Star!
The stormy weather clears up and the dawn makes way... IT'S A SIGN THAT THE DAWN KNIGHT PREVAILED AND MELEANOA'S MAGIC HAS DISAPPEARED... Lilia just lets out the most guttural cries... He says if he were stronger, he would have taken Meleanoa with him against her will, HE WASN'T ABLE TO KEEP HIS PROMISE TO PROTECT MELEANOR FOR HIM
I still want to see Mallemom's on-screen death though.
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Side note: they force us to play through a scripted loss battle between the Dawn Knight and Meleanor 💀 Sick fucks on the dev team…
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This is delicious content :)))))))) We're eatin' well, boiz
Uhhh okay so there are greenish spirits floating around; they're the senate??? Apparently they've already died but their spirits linger and serve as advisors.
… Idk why doesn’t Mallemom do this too???
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NAUR, NOT THE SENATE BLAMING AND SHAMING LILIA, SAYING HE RAN AWAY AND LEFT HER TO DIE IN BATTLE... THEY CALL LILIA A MUTT AND BAT, JUST A DIRTY ORPHAN WHO CAN’T BE TRUSTED… AND THAT HE ISN'T FIT TO SERVE, THAT HE'S USELESS (this must really sting seeing as Lilia has insecurities about not being wanted 😭)
Baul defends Lilia's honor but Lilia still resigns from the Imperial Guard. HE'S TELLING THE SENATE T HEY CAN PUNISH HIM SO THEY FORBID HIM FROM STEPPING INTO THE CAPITAL AGAIN
The senate uses magic to take the egg away from Lilia AND LILIA SAYS GOODBYE TO MALLEUS BY NAME
"I'm not an Imperial Guard anymore, I don't need to follow orders" — Lilia (when Baul tells Lilia he still has a duty to hatch the egg). LILIA HAS GIVEN UP and that seems to have summoned the darkness of the dream to them. Lilia thinks Meleanor and/or Levan are in the darkness so he wants to "go there too".
When a general retires, they are gifted a lavish home near Black Scale Castle. Sebek says it now makes sense why Lilia lived humbly in a forest cottage far away from the capital. Silver says it must be why Lilia dislikes the atmosphere of the capital and why he never took Silver there.
In a flashforward, Lilia is asked to come back 10 years later. At this point, Tamago-sama has developed more sentience and is actively rejecting the love magic from everyone, even his grandmother. He has only been receiving magic for the first 5ish years or so. Maleficia had Baul act as a messenger to bring Lilia back for a special mission BECAUSE OTHERWISE MALLEUS WILL DIE WITHOUT IT.
Malleus’s egg is being kept in Cradle Tower! It keeps the egg safe and essential incubates it for the royal family.
Land of Briar becomes Briar Valley? The queen cannot always be with the egg because Briar Valley and its surrounding are lands are left in chaos after the war. Briar Valley fae specifically are not allowed in human territories.
Lilia is sent off on to find a way to fix the situation. He says he will see where dragons live in other continents and research. Omg, this must be how he started his travels and learned more about other races and their cultures 😭
“Don’t you dare die, Malleus” — Lilia (AND THE LOVING DEATH THREAT ACTUALLY MAKES THE EGG GLOW)
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We see some of Lilia’s travels AND HE WAS IN THE CITY OF FLOWERS ON TOPSY TURVY DAY... The people there were friendly at first and worrying for his health until they realize he's a fairy, then they chase him out.
During one of his routine reports, Lilia is convinced by Baul to speak with Malleus's egg (which now glows green sometimes). Lilia shares stories of his travels with Malleus, trying to keep it positive for the baby to not make Malleus sad.
NEXT LILIA TRAVELED TO THE SCALDING SANDS, A MERCHANT IS ASKING IF HE WANTS TO BUY A MAGIC LAMP... Lilia learns about the importance of souvenirs as keepsakes from that merchant.
Okay, so it looks like between travels we're getting scenes of Lilia reporting back and telling Malleus about the place he most recently visited. He says that the Scalding Sands used to be such a small civilization but has since grown into a sprawling city. It's amazing what kind of progress humans can make.
Malleus is fussy and some days accepts magic, and other days he doesn't. Meleanor was also a really picky eater. Levan carries himself like an honors student but was the type to hide his veggies.
AW, HE SINGS MELEANOR'S LULLABY TO MALLEUS
Next Lilia visits some ruins...? It looks like a background from the Spectral Realm seen in Endless Halloween Night. Lilia says no one lives here, there is only furniture. No ghosts are mentioned though! He uses his UM for the first time here. Far Cry Cradle is probably going to be very useful for investigating ways to hatch a dragon's egg!
Lilia tells Malleus to come out of the egg, it must be boring just sleeping. He offers to read stories and change his diaper, tells Malleus his dad wants to meet him. Oh, and of course Lilia shares about his UM too! He tells Malleus that he went to the Land of Crimson Long.
Lilia ventures to Harveston!! An old man mistakes Lilia for a kid and takes him in, showing him warmth and kindness. He says he'll leave soon, but the old man and an old woman say he should stay until spring because the weather is harsh.
The lady notices Lilia is fae (but since time has passed, relations between fae and humans have improved a bit). No one is afraid of him here!! They apologize for mistaking him as a kid and want to share stories.
(Not confirmed but it could be interesting if these were Epel’s ancestors Lilia met… Rollo’s ancestors can be the ones running Lilia out of the City of Flowers www)
ABSHDBYOAFVYFAIAEUQRQEOUBFQ LILIA IS 430 AT THIS POINT BUT THAT NUMBER IS SO CLOSE TO 420 IT MAKES ME LAUGH
His feelings are changing... At 450 years old, Lilia tells Malleus that the world has changed so much and he has had the chance to visit many places. ahbyoaybadadB APPARENTLY PEOPLE USED TO THROW STONES AND ROCKS AT HIM.
Lilia says that fae may become things of the past, just creatures of fairy tales. But he doesn't want Malleus to be the main character of a fairy tale, forgotten by time. He wants Malleus to be able to see the world his parents weren’t able to see for themselves 😔
Another time skip, and it's come to a point where the egg is in critical condition. For 3 whole months it has been rejecting Maleficia's magic. The egg has since erected a lightning barrier to protect itself, even though its own heartbeat is growing weaker and weaker. (Malleus throwing another tantrum lol)
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Lilia heard weird sounds but no one else could??? Is that a baby crying???? He tries to approach, but almost gets struck down many times.
Lilia realizes Malleus is crying because he's lonely. "Wait for me. I'm coming to you right now!" He gets hit by lightning, but perserves!
Lilia says he will offer his magic, even his lifespan (many fan theorists squealed now that this is confirmed), to Malleus if he needs it, and finally embraces the egg. (Physical contact like holding the egg is said to encourage magic absorption.)
TAMAGO-SAMA??????? 😭 HE SOUNDS LIKE A POKEMON… and he’s already blowing fire even though he’s freshly hatched???
WTF THOUGH BABY MALLEUS IS 1000000000000000000000x CUTER THAN GROWN UP MALLEUS 🫶 (I don’t like modern day Malleus’s looks at all www)
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Silver understands why the dream is how it is, because it was all worth it for Lilia to finally meet Malleus. The moment of hatching has to be the happiest moment in Lilia’s life.
The senate shows up and starts praising Lilia as a hero.
OH????? Lilia seems to be waking????
HMMMM? this implies there’s limited suspension of disbelief each dreamer has 🤔 and if pushes past that threshold, then the dreamer is in a confused half awake state. Idia had these little moments of questioning his dream’s reality as well.
The senate’s voices distort, and they start shouting at Lilia for touching the prince, how it will be a scandal if a bat (… is Lilia a bat fae???) “dirties” the Draconias, etc. Mmmm, maybe this is the real reaction and the praising was part of the dream?? Since Lilia seemed to react strangely to being extolled. (I’m still over here wondering why their opinions hold so much weight compared to the queen; surely she would invite her friend Lilia back?? And doesn’t seem to blame him for the death of her daughter?)
Levan has a voice similar to Malleus, but lacks horns.
DVSUBILADUP9FFQEQFFAHAFBFEYBN OB MALLEUS JUMPSCARE, HE FINALLY MANAGED TO BREAK THROUGH INTO LILIA'S DREAM
Okay 😭 Lilia did in fact use his own life span so Malleus could hatch, and then Lilia had Maleficia swear to secrecy because he was concerned Malleus would blame himself. But it also feels like the senate purged or edited the records to hide the fact that Malleus hatched with Lilia’s love??
Malleus tries to convince Lilia to go back to sleep, to not feel pain. He says he can give Lilia a dream where the Draconias are still alive, a dream where Lilia can live peacefully, just take Malleus’s hand—
SILVER COMING IN CLUTCH, he and Sebek vow to break Malleus’s “blessing”. It’s this word that allows Lilia to fully awaken!!! ⏰ He’s so proud of Silver and Sebek…
They fight (well, Lilia distracts Malleus), then Silver uses his UM to hop into another dream.
They run into Ortho?! And then everyone is dropped off in front of Ignihyde.
FINALLY, SHROUD BROTHERS RETURN RIGHT AT THE VERY END!! I was wondering what they were doing while all this shit went down in Lilia's dream... It sounds like the next book 7 update will start off with Idia and Ortho, most likely told via flashback. I assume Ortho was able to help Idia wake up somehow?
This update felt like we got a lot of new lore!! But many of the events that played out were things we already had an inkling about prior to all of this (Meleanor dying, Lilia going on his travels eventually, Lilia helping Malleus hatch, etc.). It's nice to get the confirmation and to have the gaps of time inbetween filled in.
I really appreciate the story showing us just how hard Lilia's life was and then showing us just how important a nugget of happiness after all of that was so worth it for that moment. His VA did a stellar job with the voice acting this update, particularly the sobbing once Malleus hatched. I loved seeing Lilia's travels and how they gradually affected his own mindset over time... how he learned many different things from the people he encountered, and how he passed on that knowledge onto Malleus.
I liked seeing the origins of Lilia’s UM (he’s on a journey to find an answer)! Hearing about Sebek’s was also interesting; seeing as he’s a late bloomer with his magic and how he’s always competing with Silver, his UM manifested when Silver had been admitted to NRC and Sebek was training alone. I wonder if the UM also (in part) rose out of a feeling of inadequacy or feeling like he has to “catch up” to where Silver, Malleus, and Lilia are. No matter how hard it may be, he wants to push past his limits and serve as a knight. Maybe that, too, is why his UM prioritizes power and speed at his own body’s expense. It’s great seeing Sebek open up a little more and insist on fighting alongside fae; in modern day, Sebek has had to fight alongside humans. This is bridging the two sides of himself and helping him to reconcile with his own prejudices 😭
THE WHOLE DRAMA WITH THE SENATE MAKES ME UNDERSTAND WHY LILIA DROPPED THAT LINE ABOUT HISTORY BEING ALTERED OR REWRITTEN. It all makes so much sense now... Lilia himself (at least him hatching Malleus) was written out of history even though he did so much to help his country. He was so disliked, shunned, and shown animosity from the powers that be, and now he doesn't wish for that to happen to others, especially not to Malleus, the one good thing in his life and all that remained of the friends he lost along the way. You really see his teachings coming through in Silver and Sebek when they face off against OB Malleus towards the end. And the way I screeched when Lilia finally woke up after that...
The more I see OB Malleus, the more I get this skin-crawling feeling around him. I know the other OB boys have done arguably worse things (attempted murder, for example) but there's something so awful and insidious about the way Malleus speaks. He's intentionally gaslighting and manipulating others to just give in to his control, taking advantage of even Lilia at his lowest moments to dominate his thoughts. That's scary to think about... especially the dark inversion of Malleus urging Lilia to take his hand, when the game started off with a much more light-hearted and inviting "take my hand" offer.
Anyway!! I've been wondering for a long time what the Shrouds have been up to, and I'm so excited to see their story next update!!
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Daddy’s Home (Dom!Gojo x Sub!Black!Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot)
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“Daddy’s home, baby. Now take your fucking clothes off.”
Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Black!Fem!Reader
Synopsis: It’s been 3 years. You believe your fiancé is dead. You’ve been attempting to move forward in your life without him there beside you. You try to grieve properly in order to move on….until he comes home. And he’s more than ready to make up lost time.
Warnings: MANGA SPOILERS; Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Grief; Mentions of Depression, Death & Suicide; Alcohol/Drug Use; Feral!Gojo; Rough Sex; Ripping Clothes; Dirty Talk; Cunnilingus; Forced Deepthroating; Face-Fucking; Multiple Positions; Gojo Giving You Deep Dick; Breeding Kink; Unprotected PIV Sex; Creampie; Cum Eating; Ownership; Gojo Makes You a Mommy; Aftercare; Degradation; Petnames: Baby; Little Girl; Mama; Sweetheart
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!
*IMPORTANT NOTE: In the manga, Gojo is only sealed for 19 days, but in the time of the rest of the manga being written and illustrated, it was 3 years. So the timeline of his being sealed and freed will be 3 years.
Writer’s Note: I’m coping. AND celebrating my man's birthday!! The happiest birthday (and week and month) to my favorite boi! 💙💙💙 -Jazz
********
You’ve never felt such pain before.
It isn't pain that can simply be fixed with a band-aid or a kiss, like a scrape or a cut. It is a deep, cavernous, emotional pain that you have never experienced before...not before losing your fiance. The man you adored and cherished. Your best friend. Your soulmate. Your sunshine peeking through the dark, gray clouds.
But since losing him, all your days are washed with gray. You can't stand any sunny days now, knowing that he loved them and would want to do something–anything–to seize them. "C'mon, baby, let's go get some ice cream!" he'd cheerfully shout. Or "let's go biking" or "wanna take a walk in the park with me?"
Now, all you do is lay in bed and watch the days go by, the pain you feel too much. You've never experienced something so profound and intense. It causes you to cry every single morning into the night until the pink of dawn comes again.
It's been like this for three years now since you lost him forever. It still feels weird to say that: forever. You thought you'd have forever with him, but it was ripped away from you all that time ago during the Shibuya incident. It was a bloody war, from what you've heard; a massacre. So many innocent people perished.
The lives that were spared were among the other Sorcerers and his students, including Nobara who managed to survive Mahito's attack . You visited her all that time she spent in the hospital after the attack as the doctors worked to save her eye. In the end, she lost it, but gained a false one just last year that looks exactly like her real one.
Nanami also survived. It was a close call, apparently. Yuji had found him and attacked Mahito before Nanami could face his violent death. Half of his face and body are completely scalped, but he doesn't try to cover them. They are his battle scars; a reminder of what he is fighting for. He still resides in Japan though you've all been telling him to retire and go to Malaysia. "Not until he's back," he'd fiercely say. "I'm not resting until he's out of that damn box."
He checks on you as do Yuji, Megumi, and Nobara, to ensure you're okay. Shoko spent the night with you a few times until you firmly told her to stop. "I'm not gonna slit my wrists or anything," you scoffed. Shoko pursed her lips at you as she smoked her cigarette on your balcony. "No, but you might drink yourself to death first," she mumbled.
And yes, you have been drinking. You've also been smoking. Weed and alcohol are all that cure the pain, at least for a little while. You don't have to see his dazzling smile or snow-white hair behind your eyelids when you fall asleep high as a kite. It's unhealthy and you know that, but what else can you do?
You have nothing to live for anymore. Your fiance is gone. You try to tell the others this, who have worked tirelessly all this time to find a way to bail him out. 'It's been three years!' you think. 'If they haven't found a way yet, they never will. He is never getting out of that box or the Prison Realm.' And that is the sad, horrible truth.
You curl yourself into a ball now, wrapped in one of his crisp button-up shirts, naked underneath. It is twelve in the afternoon. You haven't eaten or gotten dressed, only showered and brushed your teeth (after Shoko sent you a text to do so). Tears stain your eyes which still sting from your sob session the night before. "Satoru," you whimper into the pillows. "Come back to me, please."
You know this isn't possible, but you wish to God or whoever makes miracles happen that it was. How can you live in a world, in a realm, where your love isn't here? You were going to get married, in spring of 2024. He had promised you after a wonderful night of dinner, champagne, and dancing on a private yacht he ordered just for you two.
When he got down on those long legs, one knee propped up, and presented you with that box, you could feel yourself melt. "After all of this is over," he promised, "after I make this world safer for you, let's do it, baby. I wanna spend the rest of my life with you." He gave you that big, gigawatt, hopeful smile as you felt tears pour down your cheeks, ruining your makeup. "You up for seein' this face forever?" he joked.
That night, you answered him. Over and over again, making love until morning. Until you were both spent and ached so good from twisting your bodies in a hundred different positions. Until your thighs were soaked with his cum and all you could see, hear, and smell was him.
You were more than prepared to spend the rest of your life like that with him...and now, that's all gone. A fresh wave of grief overcomes you and you grip the pillow, stuffing your face into it. Once again, you say the same words you've been saying for three years like a prayer: "Satoru, come back to me. Please."
BANG!
The sound is so loud and abrupt that it scares you. You sit up immediately, your heart lurching into your throat. You look around the room only to find it empty, but then hear the familiar sound of the front door closing from downstairs. Someone is here. But who?
"H-Hello?" you call. "Shoko, is that you?"
No answer. It is completely silent all except for the birds chirping outside your window which only adds to the ominous feeling of the situation at hand. You never gave Shoko a spare key to your home and you're the only one who can get in and out. So who the fuck is in your house?
You then hear the familiar sound of footsteps coming up the stairs, one by one, as if the stranger is taking his sweet time doing so. You instantly reach for your phone to dial 911 and retreat to the bathroom across the room, but stop when a shadow crosses the bedroom wall, and then a figure appears in the threshold of the bedroom you used to share with your fiance.
You stare at the figure hard as if it's difficult for you to decipher it, but it's impossible not to know who it is. You can tell from how tall he is as he stands there, towering over you in the doorway. You can tell from his lean body sinewy with muscles under his black clothes. You can tell from his pale skin, snow-white hair you used to love to run your fingers through, and iced, blue eyes that stare right through you.
That same lovely, adorable, sexy, dazzling grin crosses his pillowy-soft, pink lips as he stares at you from across the room. “Honey, I’m home," Gojo chirps as if he just walked in from a hard day at work.
You stare him down, afraid to move or speak in fear of ruining this or exposing it for what it is: a trick. A mirage. A hallucination caused by too much alcohol or weed (unlikely, but still). Is this a dream? Are you dead? Did you go ahead and drink yourself to death like Shoko foresaw?
He walks toward you, slowly as if to not frighten you further. You stay on the bed, afraid to move. You're trembling. He finally stops just at arm's length from you, that same smile and warm gaze still on his face. “T-Tarou?” you whisper, finding your voice.
“In the flesh," he replies in that easy, sexy drawl that you've always loved. So careless. So laidback. His expression grows concerned, his brows drawn together. “How ya doin’, baby?” he asks. Your heart flips at the sound of that pet name. You haven't heard it in so, so long.
You scamper towards him, wanting to get closer to him, but then stop, afraid to. He doesn't react to either, still standing there and waiting for you to process this. “No,” you whisper. “This isn’t real. I’m just high as fuck right now.” You put your hands in your hair, gripping the dark coils/braids/locs/curls/twists harshly.
You know that this isn't possible. You haven't touched any weed since yesterday morning, wanting to give yourself a break. Gojo whistles as he nods at the bong sitting on your bedside table. “Well, judging from that, probably so. You got any left? I could use it after the 3 years I’ve had.”
You don't answer. You barely even breathe, afraid to do so in fear of putting a tear in the fabric of this moment and ripping it apart. You still can't tell if this is really happening. Is it a trick of your cursed grief making you see shit? Could it be that a Curse is here and has somehow taken over Gojo's body, and now, they're here to kill you? You would rather take that than this uncertainty.
Gojo suddenly raises his hand toward you as if to touch you, but doesn't. “Touch me," he encourages. Though hesitant, you lift a tentative hand and stroke your fingers over his veiny arm. All you feel is solid, soft, warm skin. Gojo's smile gets bigger. “See? I’m real. It’s really me, baby.”
And suddenly, the fog over your mind has been cleared and you can see clearly. All is for certain, including that the man standing here is your man. Your 'Tarou. “It’s really you,” you whimper. “Oh, my God….oh, my God!” You can't stop the tears or the blubbering as relief and utter joy wash over you.
Gojo opens your arms for you and he barely budges as you shoot into them, not even making him stagger. You bury your head in his chest, breathing in his scent and moving your hands over his back muscles. “I’ve missed you,” you sob. “I’ve missed you so, so much, Satoru! It’s been awful!”
He holds you tight to him, solid and absolutely real. “Shhh, I’m sorry, Y/N,” he coos. “I would’ve come back sooner, but I had to take care of some things.”
You pull away to look up at him through your blurred vision. He doesn't appear hurt or bruised. In fact, he looks the exact same he did before he was sealed in that box. “What do you–“
“And I’ll tell you everything after I get some pussy.”
You pause, processing his abrupt words. “What?” you scoff. “But what about all that's happened? How'd you even escape the Prison Realm? Have you eaten or drank? What about–"
Gojo, impatient, presses a long finger to your lips. “Forget about all of that right now, Y/N. Worry about the fact that you haven’t seen me in three years and you’re dying for me to put you in the mattress again.”
Then that familiar, dark, lustful look crosses his eyes like an eclipse, taking over him. “I think you’re understanding me clearly," he says, his voice dipping an octave lower than usual. “Daddy’s home, baby. Now take your fuckin’ clothes off.”
You stare at him hard, wondering if he is serious. You haven’t seen him in three years. You have so many more questions to ask him. Like what did he do while sealed? Did he see Yuji, Megumi and Nobara before he came? Were they the ones that got him out? Is he okay? 
But from the way he is staring you down like he wants to take a piece of you, you can tell that all of those questions will have to just wait to be answered. Plus, the last one is already answered for you: no, he isn’t okay. He is fucking feening for you. He needs you. You can tell from the way his hands grip you closer and from the feeling of his semi hard-on pressing into your thigh from inside his pants. 
You can’t imagine what three years without sex was like and you don’t want to. So you’re more than happy to give him whatever he is looking for right now. “O-Okay, Gojo,” you softly stutter. Your hands move to his top to unbutton it, first starting at the bottom. But your hands fumble and shake as if this is the first time you’re doing this for him. 
“Takin’ too long,” Gojo growls, impatient. Tearing your hands away from his shirt, he immediately rips the $1,000 top off of you, revealing your laced bra and panties underneath. You squeak as he does so, alarmed. “Gojo, your shirt!” you gasp, especially when the buttons fly all over the place. 
“Forget the fuckin’ shirt,” he says, his voice all but a rasp. "I’ll get a new one. It’s not fair how sexy you look in my clothes, sweetheart.” He presses his lips to your chest, breathing you in for a moment. “God, I’ve missed your smell,” he sighs. “I’ve missed how you feel. I’ve missed you so, so much.” He pulls away then, looking down at your hand. “And you’re still wearing the ring,” he points out. 
You look down at your hand where the sterling silver engagement ring sits, its diamonds sparkling at you. “Of course,” you whisper. “I never took it off. I’m engaged to you.” You want to tell him that you always dreamed he’d come back, that you wanted him to see you with it when he did. 
“So there’s been no one else?” he suddenly asks, his eyes sizing you up. “You haven’t been with any other man besides me?” Immediately, you shake your head. “No, Daddy,” you whisper, immediately falling back into the soft, obedient, submissive state that you always slide into with him as if it’s natural to you. And it is. He makes you feel so safe and loved and kept. It’s impossible not to do so all for him. “There’s been no one,” you say. “No one can ever make me feel the way you do.” 
A crooked smirk crosses Gojo’s lips that has you quivering in between your thighs. “So one has played with this body but me?” he asks. “No one has played with that pussy but me?” Again, you shake your head, your breath becoming short and labored. His eyes seem to dark even more, becoming an ocean blue. “That’s what I wanna hear,” he whispers. Then his lips are finally, finally, on yours, his tongue dancing and swirling with yours, creating a wet, sloppy, feverish kiss that takes your breath away. 
You moan wantonly into his mouth, wrapping your arms around him. Oh, how you’ve missed this. How you’ve only prayed to feel these lips again. At some point during the dizzying kissing session, Gojo pulls his clothes off, breaking apart from you to strip himself of his shirt, pants, and shoes, leaving himself in his designer briefs that look way tighter than usual.
Actually, now that you’re noticing it, his entire body looks buffer than usual. Gojo has always had muscles but was leaner three years ago. Now, his muscles are more defined, pushing up against his shirt when he has it on. 
He smirks at your wandering eyes. “Something you like, mama?” he purrs. He takes your hand, running it over his hard abs and chiseled abs where his pink nipples are hard for you, ready to be sucked. “Something…different?” 
“It’s just…you’re so…” You shudder in delight as he slides your hand down his stomach that you could bake cookies on. “Big,” you decide, running your free hand up his forearm. “You don’t have much to do in the Prison Realm except work out and masturbate,” he chuckles. “I wanted to be bigger and stronger for you when I was finally free. And I wanna let you know something, baby.” He leans in then, pressing his lips against your ear. “It’s all yours,” he whispers. “This body…this cock…everything. All of it is yours.” 
You shudder again as his dirty words swirl in your mind. He pulls away, smirking at you. “Lemme show you what I mean.” Then, instantly, he is snapping off your bra and flinging it away before his lips and hands are latching to your nipples. He sucks and licks at your hard, brown nipples like a hungered man, his hands groping the sensitive globes and pinching your nipples with his long, piano fingers. “Look at these beautiful fuckin’ titties,” he says, more to himself than to you. “I’ve missed my girls so much.” 
Your head falls back and your mouth opens, captured by the pleasure he is giving you. “S-Satoru,” you whimper. Every graze of his teeth and lick of his skillful tongue has your pussy gushing. You haven’t been this wet in three years! Actually, you haven’t even been horny in three years. No one has ever been able to arouse you the way Gojo can. 
You find yourself rolling your hips against his knee as your hands grasp his broad shoulders for balance and leverage. Gojo hums as you grind your wet, panty-covered pussy against his knee, smirking up at you playfully. “Grindin’ that pussy on my leg, hm?” he tuts. “Even after three years, you’re still a little slut. I wouldn’t have it any other way though.”
He gives one of your titties one last suck before he shoves himself away from you. You stare up at him, confused, while he only gives you a stern look. “Get on the bed and open your legs. I need that pussy in my face.” 
You are helpless to refuse him, especially when your pussy is begging and sobbing for the same thing. You quickly hurry onto the bed and sit back onto your elbows as you open your legs for him. Gojo is between them immediately, his hands ripping off your panties as if they are no more than strings. As soon as he gets a look at your puffy, wet pussy leaking for him, he groans and his cock visibly twitches in his pants. “Shit,” he hisses. “I’ve missed her too.” 
And then he’s giving in like he would the cleanest, purest, bluest waters, his hands under your ass to give him a better angle and a better way to plunge his tongue deeper inside you. He laps and sucks at your pussy and sensitive clit, his tongue flicking and swirling around your hole like he needs it. Craves it.
You grab at his hair, pushing his head deeper into you as you wail and moan to the heavens above. “O-Oh, my God!” you cry out to the ceiling. “‘Tatoru, yes, more! Please give me more! Don’t stop!” 
Your voice bounces off of the bedroom walls, unbound and unashamed. You haven’t had this kind of pleasure––so intense and explosive––in so long. His wet mouth and soft lips feel so good. His nose brushing against your clit as his tongue swirls inside your pussy is beyond. You feel incredible…too incredible. Gojo works his mouth fast, pulling you quickly towards an orgasm that gathers in your core and threatens to tumble down over you.
“Wait, Daddy!” you protest. “Slow down! ‘M gonna cum too fast!” 
Gojo’s blue eyes peer up at you through long, white lashes as he continues to lap at your cunt. “Do it,” he demands. “‘Cause I’m finna make you cum as many times as I want to. I’ll make you cream your pretty brains out till dawn, baby. I’m making up for lost time.” 
He ducks back down, going faster, and even adding his long index and middle fingers inside of the wet, tight depths of your pussy. Your walls clench around him instantly as he expertly finds your G-spot and begins gliding his fingers up against it, encouraging you to cum with every stroke of his fingers and tongue. “Do it,” he orders. “Cum for me. Cum around my fingers and my tongue, gorgeous. I’ve got you. I promise.” 
And you know he does. He grips one of your hips with one hand as he finger fucks you with the other, humming “mm-hmm” and other encouraging words that are smothered by your pussy as he drags you closer to your orgasm. When it finally breaks, it crashes onto you like a wave, causing your back to arch off of the bed like you’re experiencing an exorcism. “Fuck!” you sob as you feel your body shake and shudder through your earth-shattering orgasm. 
Moans of Gojo’s government and curses to the stars leave your lips as Gojo carries you through your mind-blowing, body-shaking, earth-quaking orgasm…and even after, when your body aches and your heart is pounding, he continues to eat your pussy.
He continues to lap and suck at your lips, cleaning up the cum that dribbles out your hole and down your asscrack. He licks there too, moaning breathlessly and wantonly as he does. Finally, when he is good and satisfied, he pulls away from you and sits back onto his hands, breathing heavily with his chin and lips shiny with your juices and his saliva. 
A weak moan leaves your lips as your pussy twitches in delight and exhaustion at being stimulated. You feel so, so good. So free. You finally feel as if the sun has finally shown itself behind the gray clouds that have darkened your life for three years. You look at your man adoringly, wanting him to know how much you love him and how good he has made you feel. “Gojo,” you sigh. “That was amazing. I–“ 
“Open your mouth,” he demands. You button your lip, your words failing you immediately. You stare at him blankly, your post-orgasm brain not quite processing his words. Gojo sits up on his knees on the mattress, grabbing his cock in his pants. “You fuckin’ heard me,” he growls. “Open that slutty mouth, now. Don’t make me tell you again, little girl.” He pins you down with an intimidating look that is only intensified by his sapphire eyes. 
Once again, you can’t deny him. While still recovering from your orgasm, you open your mouth wide for him, your plump lips covering your teeth and your tongue out. Just the way he likes it. Gojo walks towards you on his knees and stays beside you as he unbuttons his pants. In one swift motion, he takes down his pants and his briefs, causing his cock to pop out. The long, thick, veiny appendage, bubbling with pre-cum from its pink head, lightly slaps you in the face, causing you to gasp. 
Gojo grabs your neck rather roughly, pulling you towards his cock without properly preparing you or waiting for you to prepare yourself. You stare down at his large dick, alarmed at how hard he is. The veins in his shaft throb as does his head that is quickly turning from a soft pink to an angry red. “Gojo, hold up–“ 
But your words are interrupted by his cock sliding between your lips. A hiss of relief leaves Gojo’s lips as he grips your neck, beginning to rut his hips deep into your mouth. “Sorry, mama,” he groans, “but I can’t be nice to that throat today. I’m just too pent-up. You understand, right?”
You can’t even answer. His cock is too thick; too big; it stretches your mouth out too wide, making your jaw hurt. But all you have to do is breathe through your nose and take it, which Gojo tells you to do so, as he begins to fuck your throat like it’s your pussy. Like it’s his own personal fleshlight. 
“Fuckin’ fuck yes!” Gojo loudly grunts, his voice completely primal and animalistic as he roughly fucks your throat. Though he has fucked your throat before, this time, it feels much, much different. He grips your hair and makes your scalp sting with how much he pulls it. He plunges your throat so fast and so hard in your sloppy throat that saliva drips down your chin and down your tits. He turns your face into his fuck toy, doing with it as he pleases. 
But though primal and animalistic, he is still completely involved with your pleasure. When you suddenly feel his fingers quickly rubbing your clit after licking his palm, your body lurches and your thighs twitch while you whine and protest feebly around his cock. “Theeeere we go,” he chuckles. “That’s what I want. Feel good with me, mama. This is where your weak, right? Right here?” 
He applies more pressure, rubbing your rosebud in time with his thrusts into your throat, his balls swinging against your chin. All you can feel, taste, and smell is him. Your senses are completely overtaken by him. “T-Tawou!” You moan around his cock. “Two mwuch! ‘M sensitive!” Your words are a muffled, jumbled mess around his thick dick, causing more spit to fall from your mouth as you try to speak. 
You go to close your legs, but Gojo’s hand yanking on your hair stops you short. “Uh-uh, sweetie,” he teasingly says. “Don't pull away. You owe me this.” He pushes your head farther down his cock, bottoming out in your mouth, causing him to moan so loud that it echoes in the bedroom. “You owe me this for stayin’ so damn sexy after so long. How is that even possible?” He questions you repeatedly as he fucks your throat harder and faster, grunting as he does so. "How's that possible, huh? Huh? Tell me, baby.” 
You are turned into a total and complete hole the more he fucks your mouth and flicks your clit, bringing you to yet another orgasm that has your thighs shaking. Finally, he releases your hair and lets you pull away, causing his cock to pop out of your mouth. “Gonna cum!” you whine, spit and cum all over your mouth. “I’m cummin’ again, Satoru!” 
Gojo stares at your pussy like a kid in a candy store as you cum once again, gushing all around his long fingers and all over the bedsheets. “Gooood girl!” he praises you. “Cum on these fingers, baby. Gimme what I want, but don't get too distracted, mmkay?” He takes his cock and slides himself back home into your mouth even as you moan and your body writhes on the bed. 
“Yes, yes, yes,” he chants, transfixed by the way your body moves and your pussy clenches. “That’s what I want. This is what I need.”
He rubs at your clit until he can feel your exhausted body jerking from the aftershocks. He finally pulls away from you then, cock and all, though he is still hard and throbbing. “I need to fuck you now,” he growls, desperation in his eyes. “And I can’t stop until I cum inside you, baby…without a rubber. Is that okay with you?” 
You blink at him, your sight slightly blurred from the two orgasms and your throat raw from it being fucked into oblivion. He must know that you will say yes. He must know that you’ll say yes to anyone he wants or needs. But yet, he still asks because safe sex has always been a priority with him in your relationship. He has always used condoms and has always made a point to not do anything involving PIV sex if he happened to run out.
But now, here he is, telling you that he needs to fuck you raw and cum inside you, possibly breeding you. And you find yourself burning for the same thing like a wildfire has lit inside you. You lean back against the pillows and open your cum-soaked thighs for him, showing him your glistening, puffy, sensitive pussy. “Yes,” you reply. “Fuck me, Daddy. Cum inside me. Breed me.” 
Gojo stares at your pussy, spread open for him like it’s spun gold. Suddenly, the loving, silly, goofy man you’ve grown to love is gone, replaced with one who is starved, rough, demanding, and merciless. It thrills and frightens you.
“Oh, you’re gonna fuckin’ get it, girl,” he growls before he grabs you, tosses you onto your back, and gets on top of you. “I’m gonna fuck you till you’re spent,” he promises as he throws your legs over his shoulders and prepares to slide deep inside of you until his balls touch your ass. 
When he says this, he means it. Baby, Gojo has you in every position known to man.
He starts first by fucking you in missionary, giving you deep, deep dick that nearly touches your soul and makes you see stars. One of his big, veiny hands wraps around your throat, squeezing gently on your windpipe, while the other pins your thigh open as his cock plunges in and out of your wet, sobbing cunt. He pounds you into the mattress, his big body pressing against yours and his hips nailing your pelvis. 
Then he has you on top in 69, his hands groping and smacking your jiggly ass while he, once again, stuffs his face in your cunt. You suck his dick in time with his tongue laps, gagging and slobbering all over his cock much to his delight. It is sloppy and dirty and messy…and you love every minute of it.
You love how his pubic hairs tickle your chin the deeper you slide him down your throat. You love how your eyes sting with tears as he tickles the back of your throat. You love the way his tongue slides from your pussy hole to your asshole, lapping at each one as if they’re the best things he’s ever tasted. 
He fucks on your back, hanging off the bed. He fucks you on your stomach, your ass tooted up while his feet are firmly planted on the bed, hammering his dick deep inside of you. He sucks you on your side, his hands cupping your jiggling breasts while his lips caress your neck and shoulder. And he makes you cum every. Single. Time. 
By the time he has you on your knees with his cock buried deep in your pussy once again and your arms pulled behind your back, your body is aching for rest and your pussy is a mushy, gushy mess around his cock. 
But still you persist, moaning and screaming at the top of your lungs the harder he fucks you. Your voice, along with his own, the creaking bedsprings, and the sound of skin slapping against skin, fills the air around you. “Yes, yes, Daddy, yes, fuck me!” you babble, your words a jumbled mess.
Gojo cackles from behind you, loving how slutty and broken you are on his cock. “You feelin’ good, baby?” he asks. “This dick makin’ you feel good? Don’t have to use those damn toys or those fingers anymore, no. You’ve got me now and I’ll take good, good care of this pussy.” 
He slams his hips harder against your ass, making it bounce and jiggle. The harder he goes, the more intense your orgasm gets and you find yourself about to have your sixth orgasm of the day…or night. Is it nighttime now? You can't tell. You’ve been at this for hours, fucking and cumming all over the bed. You don't even know what day it is anymore.
All you can think about is Gojo’s dick and cumming on it. “Shit, I’m gonna cum again!” you sob. 
Gojo’s hand circles around your throat, choking you. “Cum on this dick,” he demands. “Do it! Fuckin’ do it for me, baby!”
And you do. Like a puppet on a string being controlled by the white-haired, big-dicked man behind you, you writhe in the air and cum all over his cock. A weak, long moan leaves your lips as you come undone, all self-control leaving you. Gojo pulls out of you with a hiss, talking about how “fuckin’ tight” you are. When you’re released, your arms fall to your sides as you crumble onto the mattress, falling face-first into the pillow. Your body is hot and sweaty, your pussy is twitching, your ass is stinging from his assault on it. You are completely spent. 
Gojo leans down to kiss your forehead, smiling at your exhaustion. “Aww, is my baby tired now?” he coos. You weakly moan in response, too tired to speak. “Too bad because I still need to cum inside you. You did ask me to breed you and I’ve gotta make this count.” 
Before you can even protest, he is grabbing your weak body and forcing you onto your knees, hiking your ass up for him. He sinks into your overly sensitive, used pussy once more, drawing a moan out of both of you. You let him do as he pleases, too exhausted to fight or argue.
He takes hold of your hips and ruts into you like his life depends on it, nailing that spot again and again that makes you see the entire universe behind your eyelids. It feels so damn good. He fucks you at a breakneck pace, going faster with each second that passes. “O-Oh, s-shit!” you scream into the mattress. “F-Fuck, Daddy, f-f-u-uck!” 
Gojo’s fucking is egged on by your moans, his pelvis slamming into your ass and taking your very breath away. “Take this cock,” he groans. “Take all of this dick, baby. It’s yours. All of it is fuckin’ yours. It always was and always will be.” He hikes up his leg and fucks you on one knee, causing him to grow louder and his moans to become more desperate and needy. 
“God, I missed this!” he whines. “I’ve been fucking burning for you, baby. Needed you so, so much!” You picture him in the Prison Realm, his hand wrapped around his cock as he is surrounded by darkness and loneliness. As tears spring into your eyes, you lift yourself up onto weak arms to look back at him. “Then show me,” you whisper. “Show me how much you’ve missed me. Cum inside me, ‘Tarou, baby.” 
You begin to toss your ass back into him, meeting his every thrust. Gojo takes what you give him and serves it right back, moving in tandem with you. “You want me to cum?” he asks. You nod, moaning and whimpering as you feel his cock begin to swell inside you. “You want me to feel that pussy up?” he grunts. “Want me to make you a mommy? Want me to give you a kid? My kid?” 
He begins to pound your pussy into the mattress again, picking up speed. You can feel your last orgasm rising, ready to rip through you. “Say it to me, mama,” he demands. “Tell me you want my baby. Lemme hear it.” 
“Yes!” you cry out. “Yes, Satoru, I want your child! I wanna mother your baby!” That must please Gojo because he begins rolling his hips harshly against your ass, rutting into you like he’s trying to fit a home run. His handsome face is red and glittering in sweat, his snow-white hair plastered to his wet forehead.
“Can’t wait to see you full with me,” he groans. “Can’t wait till this tummy is round with my baby and those tits are full of milk. You’re gonna look so, so pretty carryin’ my baby, sweetheart. You’re gonna be the best mommy ever.” 
And he’ll be the best daddy ever. That is all you can think as you feel your own orgasm rising at the same time as him, like the sun and the moon rising in unison in the sky. Forever bonded. Forever together.
“Gonna cum,” Gojo warns. “Gonna cum deep inside you. You’d better cum with me too. Cum all over my cock, baby. Cum with me while I fill this little pussy up.” 
You nod and wail into the pillow, gripping it for dear life as another blinding orgasm rips through your body. Gojo fucks into your wet, cum-soaked pussy until he feels his own nut coming and he desperately fucks you to chase his high. “Cumming!” he babbles. “‘M cummin’, I’m cummin’, I’m cummin’!”
And when he fills you up, it’s explosive. It’s deep. It’s intense. It fills every part of you, filling you with warmth and the feeling of being absolutely filled to the brim. You weakly moan as you feel his cum fill your tummy, no doubt reaching your womb. He stills for a moment, plugging his cum inside you, before slowly and sloppily rocking his hips into you to fuck his cum deep into your pussy. 
When he is finally sure that you’re good and bred, he puts his hands on his narrow hips and whistles tiredly. “Shit,” he sighs. “I really needed that.” You moan in agreement. He then pulls out of you slowly, causing you to whimper quietly as your aching pussy is no longer filled.
He stares at it between your thighs, humming appetizingly. “Mmm, now that’s a sight: a pretty, fucked pussy drippin’ with my cum. Don’t mind if I do.” 
Then his mouth is between your thighs again, lapping gently at his and your cum mingled together all over your pussy and inner thighs. You arch your back for him, moaning softly at his soft, careful tongue strokes.
When he finishes, you turn to him, finding his semi-hard cock dripping with your mingled fluids. “You still got some left here, Daddy,” you coo before moving to lap up the cum you left behind on his cock. He allows it, his hand in your hair while he sighs about how good you are. 
Once you are cleaned up and all is said and done, the two of you finally lay side by side in your bed, together again at last. You curl into his chest, leaning your head against his heart and wrapping your arms around him. He welcomes it, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead “Welcome home, baby,” you whisper as you look up at him. “Now you gonna tell me how you got out?” 
He looks down at you, almost as if he forgot he was supposed to answer a bunch of your very important questions. “Oh, Itadori did that,” he explains like he’s telling you the weather. “He’s a smart kid, y’know. Say, you up for some sushi? I’m cravin’ some fish right now.” 
All you can do is laugh and kiss your man before getting the takeout menu that you keep in the nightstand next to the bed. All the important questions can wait.
For now, all you want and need is him.
THE END.
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