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miinatozakiii · 3 days

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i fall in love too fast

kindergarden teacher!sana x fem!reader (remastered) ; part two; fluff

summary: your niece needs to stop watching so many romance movies because what the hell she's five and sana... well sana thinks she's crushing on someone's mother.

wc: 3.9k

warnings: mentions of food ; not proofreaddd

a few customers held you up, you were supposed to be in your car earlier, supposed to be at hana’s school early – but of course, someone had to order six drinks during a rush, keeping you at work for a few more minutes than you’d like.

once you make it to the car, you rush to startthe engine and get out your parking spot. tapping your finger on the steering wheel as you drive, you glance at the car's screen. the time reads '3:11 pm,' which means hana will be out in about four minutes. you make a guess that you'll arrive in a few minutes late. the worry that hana might be confused about where you are runs through your mind, but you convince yourself not to fret. after all, she's strong, and you know it – she’s your niece after all.

somehow you manage to make it to the entrance just before hana is supposed to be out. fiddling with the collar of your white button-up shirt that you still have on from work, you anxiously await for when the bell will ring, anticipating the kids to start spilling out of the entrance doors to reunite with their families – eagerly waiting to see hana again.

you check your watch, reading the 3:15 pm, and seconds later – the bell rings.

it was only a minute later that you started to see groups of kids being led out by various teachers. you scanned the area for a bit, thankful that your height allowed you to see over some of the parents' heads. finally, you spot your little niece standing with a group of kids, holding each other by the little hook-like fabric on top of their bags to stay connected.

amidst the sea of parents and children, your eyes also locked onto sana, effortlessly standing out even in the crowd of chaos. her gentle hand held that of a child at the front of the group, a caring smile gracing her features.

you made your way over to where hana stood, her eager eyes scanning the crowd until they finally landed on you. without hesitation, she dashed towards you, her arms outstretched in anticipation of the hug she knew was coming. for a five-year-old, her determination was astonishing, and the way she almost knocked you off balance was comparable to a linebacker (well, close enough. maybe a linebacker on the youth team). as she crashed into you with surprising force, you couldn't help but marvel at her energy, laughing, and wonder if she should consider joining a football team someday. yeah, definitely her dad’s genes.

"y/n!" her grin widened as she approached, and you quickly knelt down to her level, wrapping her in a warm hug. "i missed you, y/n!"

“hey, hi,” you feel her squeezing you tighter as you hug her, kissing the side of her head as you do. “i missed you too!” you greet happily, voice muffled a bit. pulling away, you brush some of her hair out of her face, hair looking a little more ruffled than this morning. “seem’s like someone had a fun day at school.”

“so much fun! today ms. minatozaki let us paint and! and! she gave me more stickers for being good! they're sharks too!” the little girl beams, making you smile. “and then we had recess and i played a lot and ran a lot and– oh! ms. minatozaki said i was good today!”

you laugh. “is that so?”

“yes! does this mean we can go to the cafe? please? i was good i promise.” hana pleads, tugging at your rolled sleeve.

huming as you think to yourself, you her teacher in the corner of your eye. “hmm, we’ll have to ask ms. minatozaki to make sure, won’t we?” you’re really just saying that as an excuse to talk to your niece's teacher again.

you steal a glance at sana, who is smiling and waving to a set of parents, the dad carrying their child on his shoulders. her eyes sparkle with surprise and delight as they meet yours, her cheeks gradually tinting a shade of pink. unaware of her reaction, you remain lost in admiration as you stare.

sana bids a final goodbye to the parents and the kid before you and your niece make your way over to her.

"hana, hello there, sweetie," sana greets your niece warmly. then, her gaze shifts to you, her smile widening even further. "it's wonderful to see you again, y/n," she adds, her words sending a warm flutter through your chest, your heart skipping a beat.

she still looks as beautiful as she did in the morning, maybe even prettier. that voice of hers is still soft and sweet when she greets you with joy; her face lights up the same way.

"it's wonderful to see you too,"

without thinking, you straighten your shirt and adjust your pleated pants to appear more presentable. a smile graces both your lips and sana's. a brief silence ensues as you lock eyes with each other, and you feel a warmth rising in your ears, gradually spreading to your cheeks like a small fire.

trying to clear the tension, you clear your throat and tug at your collar, then respond, “how was hana today?”

hana looks up at her teacher with hopeful, puppy eyes, silently pleading for a positive response. sana chuckles softly to herself, amused by hana's adorable expression.

“she was great today, and really helpful too,” sana assures, earning a sigh of relief from hana.

“is that so?” you question – sana hums in response.

“she helped me put the paintbrushes back, as well as the markers. she’s a sweet girl, big help.” sana explains.

hana tugs at your hand, “i told you! i told you i was good! so can we go to the cafe? please?”

chuckling again, you nod at the little girl, then bring your gaze back to the woman in front of you.

“i guess we should get going then…” you begin, your gaze tearing away from sana reluctantly to look back down at the girl beside you. “why don’t you say bye to your teacher, hana?”

hana nods and you watch as sana crouches down to meet the girl's level, placing a hand on her head before sliding it down to the girls cheek. hana puts her smaller hand on sana’s before she hugs her, and for a moment you think to yourself: gosh, i wish that were me.

sana parts from hana, standing back up and fixing loose hair that falls over her face. you steal another glance at the young teacher before hana goes back to you to hold your hand and tug you away.

the last look you and sana share has this weird sense of longing, there’s an unspoken desire to get to know each other more, to maybe get a few extra minutes to, well, maybe just stare at each other’s faces until someone decides to say something.

but then, letting go, you finally wave to her with a smile, and she shoots you and your niece a toothy grin “goodbye.”

"alright, time to head home," you announce, grabbing hana's tiny school bag and placing it in the front seat. after securing her in the car seat, you close the door and settle into the driver's seat.

with a turn of the key, the engine roars to life, but before you can even back up, hana beams, “buckle up!”

“of course, i wouldn’t forget the most important step.”

a jazz favorite from months ago begins to play after you hit shuffle on one of the playlists you made with your niece. adjusting the volume to create a soft background melody, you listen along as hana starts to hum along.

you pull into your regular spot by the side of the cafe and turn off the engine. grabbing hana's bag from the passenger seat, you step out of the car and hold the door to the backseats open for her to hop out. her eyes light up at the sight of the cafe's exterior, and she wastes no time in darting towards the entrance.

“hana wait! be careful!” you call out, hurriedly shutting the door and fumbling with the keys to lock your car before running after the excited five-year-old.

entering the cafe, you're greeted by the familiar and inviting atmosphere. the air carries the aroma of freshly baked pastries mingled with the rich scent of espresso shots being pulled. the cozy ambiance of the cafe envelops you both, lifting both your spirits.

thankfully, it’s not too busy at the moment. you spot a few adults in their work clothing sitting and chatting at the table for four near the window, sipping on their drinks – looks like a couple of lattes and americanos. the dim corner to the right is lit up by a small lamp hanging from above, occupied by a few high school students laughing. they seem to be treating themselves to a small cake, a little candle is at the side – probably for someone's birthday.

you scan the area, shifting your look over to where the familiar baker and barista are. the baker notices you and stops what she’s doing to wave happily.

“ah, y/n! you’re back, did you miss me that much?” dahyun jokes, “oh, and you brought my favorite customer too.” she adds, redirecting her gaze to meet hana. hana gives the dark-haired woman a big, gummy, and toothy smile before going to hug the woman as she walks out from behind the counter.

“ms. dahyun! today was my first day of school! my teacher says i was great!” hana boasts, and dahyun laughs before ruffling her hair up a bit.

“wow, i’m impressed. hmm… maybe i should give you the special treat i prepared then.”

“please please please please please please-”

“alright, alright. a special treat for my favorite customer coming up! my favorite new student.” dahyun says cheerfully. the shorter woman heads behind the counter, and you lift hana onto the chair near the counter.

you make your way behind the counter as well, right over to where the taller barista works. he’s busy measuring the coffee grinds for an espresso shot, furrowing his brows as he takes a small portion of the ground coffee out from the portafilter.

“chaemin,”

he jumps a little and you laugh teasingly.

“my god! don’t do that!”

“oops.” you shrug. “can i steam some milk real quick? i need to make something for my niece.”

“you’re giving espresso to a five-year-old?” chaemin asks, visibly concerned. he turns his body to you fully, raises his brows, and looks down at you in disbelief.

“of course not, she’s already a handful without the caffeine. i’m just gonna make her a hot chocolate.”

“i see, okay. good.” he says before bringing his attention back to the portafilter and tamping the coffee grinds. “by the way, where’s johnny? i thought he would be the one taking hana to school – or picking her up – you know, since he's her dad and all.”

“he wanted to, but he had this last-minute business trip. the way he complained in person and over the phone was… rough – but he’ll be back in two days.”

“i see.”

you and chaemin continue to engage in some small talk about whether it was busy or anything while you were gone for those few minutes while you make the hot chocolate.

dahyun has already given the giddy five-year-old her cream-filled croissant with a variety of fruits inside, along with a drizzle of milk chocolate syrup on top.

dahyun pushes the plate toward the girl. “i made it just for you, i even added extra strawberries and chocolate since you like them so much.”

“ms. dahyun you’re the best! it looks really yummy! thank you thank you thank you!” she says excitedly, then dahyun pats her shoulder.

“anything for the young scholar.”

“you never make me anything like that.” you mumble as you make a design with the steamed milk and chocolate.

“you’re not a scholar, y/n. you lack a lot up there actually.” she jokes, poking you right in the forehead.

“ouch.” you respond, looking at her with a pout and setting down the hot chocolate with the heart design you made with the steamed milk. hana smiles, looking at the drink and pastry eagerly, but just as she is about to dig in–

“phone eats first.” you halt her actions, forcing her to pose and smile for the family group chat. she groans in response before dahyun encourages her to grin for the camera, giving her a thumbs up.

you sit beside hana and watch her eat while you hold your head in your palm, smiling at her. dahyun goes back to rolling whatever dough she was working on before, and you scroll through the family group chat, texting your brother and mom.

“these are so good, thank you aunt y/n,” hana says with a mouth full of the croissant.

“you should thank dahyun for that, but i’m glad you like them. also, don’t talk while you have so much food in your mouth!” you scold playfully before taking a sip of the iced americano chaemin had made you. hana sticks her tongue out at you and you pinch her nose lightly, making the two of you laugh.

hana gulps down the bite she had just chewed up, then mumbles, “aunt y/n, can i ask you something?”

you raise a brow. “what is it?”

“do you… do you like my teacher?”

“oh, of course. she’s sweet and takes good care of you, i’m fond of her. she seems great.” you answer before taking another sip of your coffee.

“no, do you like like her? like in the movies? the lovey dovey ones where they kiss–”

“w-what? why- where did this come from?” you question, sitting straight up. hana’s directness nearly makes you choke on your coffee. chaemin overhears the conversation and his eyes land on the two of you.

“you like your niece's teacher?” he says in disbelief, a hand on his hip and a brow raised. you look at your co-worker and then back to your niece, waving your hand to shut down these bold (but pretty reasonable) allegations.

“no, no – it’s not like that,” you start, trying to keep your voice and tone relaxed. chaemin and the little girl don’t seem to be fooled. “she’s just nice, we’re just friendly. she’s your teacher, of course i’m going to be friendly with her.”

“ok, then why did you look at her like that? you looked all lovey-dovey and your ears turned red!”

“oh? what is this i’m hearing?” dahyun interjects, which earns her a glare from you before you look back at your niece.

“i- no, it’s not like that! we just met hana, don’t be ridiculous.” you say defensively, and then hana’s smile grows, it makes you uneasy.

“your ears are turning red again, just like in those cartoons and movies!”

“what movies are you watching? you’re like, five! shouldn’t you be watching some normal cartoons? like something with mermaids or superheroes or something?” you groan, growing more defensive as dahyun and chaemin team up with hana to poke at you.

you roll your eyes at them, but the thought of sana tugs at your heartstrings.

you don't buy into the idea of love at first sight; it seems too simplistic, too much like something out of a disney movie. however, you can't deny the impact the woman who will be teaching your daughter every day has had on you. she’s shot an arrow through your heart just like cupid.

she’s undeniably beautiful, but it's more than just that. you find yourself thinking about her infectious smile, her contagious smile, and the way her nose scrunches up when she does both. the memory of her holding your hand when you greeted her lingers in your mind, even as you're teased and poked fun at by those around you. god, you’ve just met her.

you won’t admit it outloud, but this woman did have an effect on you, and you were scared that it would be harder to hide that the more you saw her.

“look, i just think she’s a nice person okay,” you shrug, and then you begin (or at least try) to change the topic. “anyways… how was your first day of school? what else did you do?”

dahyun laughs at your attempt to change the subject and decides to give you a break by returning to what she was doing. she shoots chaemin a cheeky look, which you ignore, choosing instead to focus all your attention on hana.

“it was great! you were right y/n, i made a friend! her name is jiyeong, she’s taller than me by this much,” hana shows you the height difference by pinching her fingers down, except there’s an inch of space in between. “also,” hana begins, “ms. minatozaki read us a story, she’s super nice. she smiled and laughed a lot, she smiles like a princess. she kind of looks like one." hana adds, and you certainly agree with that statement. hana thinks to herself a bit, then adds her final remark, "she also helped everyone with their paintings, she’s so cool! i like her a lot.”

you grin at the girl and take her empty plate, pushing it to the other side of the counter for chaemin to take.

“i’m really glad you made a friend, i told you my genes were passed on to you!” you mess with her hair. “and i’m glad you like ms. minatozaki, it’s important that you have nice and caring teachers.”

“and pretty teachers too, right?” she teases, and you laugh, messing with her hair once more.

“alright smarty pants, finish up your hot chocolate so we can get going.” you sigh, rolling your eyes playfully before walking behind the counter to wash hana’s dish.

“how was work?” jihyo asks.

she backs her car out of the parking spot in front of the school. sana has never been one to drive herself, always relying on the bus or getting a ride from a friend. however, this year she's in luck, since she'll likely be getting regular rides home from both her best friend and the mother of one of her students – one of the best drivers of the century.

sana sighs and smiles, then sets her head down against the headrest of the passenger seat. “it was really good, the students are all great. your daughter did well too.”

jihyo smiles upon hearing this. “i’m glad jiyeong was good,” then she looks at her daughter through the mirror. “jiyeong, sweetheart, how was school?”

“good mom! i had lots of fun and ms. minatozaki is really nice! i made a new friend too.” the little girl in the backseat responds. “her name is hana, she’s cool and nice and funny and i like her a lot. we promised to be best friends this year!”

sana tenses up at the mention of hana, and she thinks of the girl’s captivating mother–you. sana starts to zone out whilst jihyo talks with her daughter, and she really just thinks about you. she replays the memory of shaking your hand–big, soft, nice to hold, the small peak of ink under your wrist, the bracelets, and wow she is a mess from just the interaction–and about your cheery grin, as well as your caring nature. the look you had given her this morning replays in her head, the small dimple you had, how perfect your teeth were, and the sparkle of your eyes as you looked at sana.

she daydreams of you the whole way back to her place, pushing aside the fact that you’re a mother, probably not single considering how charming and cute you are.

her heart sinks a little at the thought of that, and she tells herself to compose herself, there are always others, right? other fish in the sea?

(but none that were as cute as you.)

"alright, we're here. say bye to your teacher jiyeong." jihyo insists, adjusting the gear stick so the car is parked in front of the apartment complex. sana smiles at jihyo and steps out of the car, closing the door behind her. she waves at jihyo and her daughter through the window.

“thank you ms. minatozaki! see you tomorrow!”

“bye jiyeong, i hope you have a good night. you too, jihyo, thank you again.”

“it’s no problem, your place is on the way to our house anyway, have a good night sha.”

jihyo waves once more before rolling the passenger seat window up and driving away. sana clutches her work back and starts to walk towards her apartment.

the young teacher unlocks the apartment door and sets her bag on the hook to the right of the door. with a sigh, she kicks off her shoes, feeling the weight of the day starting to lift. as she moves into the kitchen, she finds herself drawn to the familiar routine of making a cup of tea. it's a comforting ritual, one that helps her unwind and transition from the demands of her day to the peace of her home. kids are amazing, wonderful, and adorable–but they’re also draining, very draining.

she leans against the counter in her work clothes, staring at the cup in her hand.

the thought of you reaches back, invading her mind, her.

you’re cute, you’re effortlessly cute with everything you do. sana thinks of the first glance, remembering how bells started to ring and imaginary petals started to fall after she made eye contact and– god she needs to stop watching those stupid dramas jihyo keeps reccomending her because they’re starting to turn her into some hopeless romantic. this can’t be, it’s only been one day, hell, not even an hour of being in the same room of you.

sana feels her cheeks warming up, cursing herself mentally.

you’re a mother, whether that be biologically or not, you’re a mother. it would (most likely–well, very_ unprofessional to pursue someones mother, especially if you have a husband or anything like that. she can’t pine over someone who’s taken, not again, she’s learned from her junior in high school already, she can’t possibly live through that again.

sana sighs, pinches the bridge of her nose. “i really have to talk to jihyo about this.”

taking out her phone, she finds jihyo’s contact and pauses, letting out another small sigh. the thought of having to navigate through the year while constantly encountering your pretty face and charming personality fills her with a mix of apprehension and anticipation. there's a part of her that can't help but look forward to the interactions and moments shared even if you’re taken.

(it’s not like she can’t control how she feels, so if she’s able to at least hide it–then that should be fine.

–

right?)

she clicks on the little phone icon, and after a few rings, it's answered by jihyo. the sound of her voice comes through the line, accompanied by the faint background noise of what seems like the opening of a door.

"sana? hello? what is it? everything okay?”

"jihyo."

jihyo blinks, letting her daughter into the house before answering in a slightly concerned tone, "yes?"

“on a scale of one 1-10–and be honest–how wrong is it to have a crush on your students' mother?”

#sana x reader #twice x reader #kpop x reader #twice imagines #sana twice #minatozaki sana #minatozaki sana x reader

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transmascaraa · 2 days

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Readers lover heard a scream from the readers room - instantly alarmed, they go see just what the heck happened to find that.... ....the reader was building one of those mini-lego sets (If you've ever seen sanrio Lego stuff, like smaller Lego than usual) and was screaming from anger as they've been searching for one piece they just can't find for the past hour.

multiple characters headcannons!

building lego isn't easy.

characters: gaming, wanderer, xiao x gn!reader

author's note: sorry for the lack of posts guys🤷‍♂️ life is tough but we'll get through it💪 anyways i love the silly idea‼️ ENJOYYYYYY

☆ Gaming

-you we're building your legos in peace until you realized that you were missing a piece.

-well, you lost it somewhere, because you could've sworn it was there when you were checking if you had all the parts.

-after a bit of searching, you just scream and lay down on the floor helplessly.

-ofc he got concerned, so he immediately came to the room.

-"WHAT- WHAT HAPPENED? WHAT'S WRONG, MY LOVE?!?"

-he's freaking out.

-after you explain everything to him dramatically, he decides to help you.

-it takes a while to find it, but you eventually find it under the bed.

-he continues building with you from there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

✧ Wanderer

-you were looking for the final piece.

-you've looked absolutely EVERYWHERE.

-it just wasn't there.

-so you gave up, and just screamed and laid flat on your back, on the floor, once again.

-he was worried what the fuck could be happening, so he came to the room, and then looking at you laying down.

-"what the fuck is up? why'd you scream?"

-he looks annoyed.

-you start dramatically telling him how you're trying to find the one missing piece but you gave up.

-he stares at you blankly, until he points mext to the lego box, right beside where you were sitting.

-"you mean that one?"

-"OH MY- YOU'RE RIGHT! THANK YOU SO MUCH SCARA I AM SO GRATEFUL TO HAVE YOU IN MY LIFE-"

-he just left the room thinking of how weird you were, not understanding how he fell for you in the first place.

-maybe it's the weirdness that he was missing in his life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

♡ Xiao

-again, trying to find the last piece.

-a few minutes of hopeless trying, until you just screamed.

-he quickly appeared in the room, kneeling down to comfort you.

-"what h- what happened?"

-he doesn't know how to really react, but he tries his best to show this true feelings, worry and concern.

-after you explain everything to him, he's a bit confused.

-you're screaming because you can't find a piece of plastic-

-whatever, he helps you.

-he doesn't continue building the whole thing with you, but he does help you FIND it.

-he'll still be confused after helping you, but at least you weren't screaming anymore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

i like this one

okay but the idea was so fun

HOPE YOU LIKED IT‼️‼️

| @keeyisbored | @mariaace <3

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin impact headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #gaming x reader #gaming x you #wanderer x you #wanderer x reader #xiao x you #xiao x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #i would scream too

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ja3yun · 4 hours

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The Doll House | Sim Jaeyun

doll!jake x fem!reader warnings: fluff, smut (mdni), subby!jake, oral (m. rec), creampie, slight throat fucking, whimpering and whining, pet names (baby doll, pup), begging, anything else lmk! wc: 7.7k synopsis: it's your first week at your new job and you make a shocking revelation that puts your world in a spin and lets you experience something you never knew was possible masterlist | sunghoon a/n: hi! this is the first part of a 4-part series! again, i need to thank the requester for this because i am having so much fun writing it <3 the plot and everything will be gradually laced within each chapter so, while they can stand alone, it's best to read them all. thank you for everything and as always, likes, reblogs, feeback is all welcome!

p.s, please read the intro it sets up the whole story so you guys know how y/n got there and who soonyeol is.

You've been inside this home for exactly 42 hours and 51 minutes and surprisingly nothing significant has happened.

The silence surrounding the mansion is unexpectedly comforting, providing a much-needed respite from the hectic city life you've despised. The constant noise - whether it's the cries of babies, the grumbles of angry men, or the blasting car horns powered by thoughtless road rage - has progressively worn on your tolerance. No one talks about how exhausting it all is.

Maybe this is why people go on holiday, you wonder. Even though you're here for work, there's a sense of relaxation in the air that leaves you feeling peaceful.

Before Soonyeol went on her ominous business trip, she left you a binder full of strict instructions on how to mind her house. It’s packed to the brim with dos and don'ts such as; cooking exactly 4 meals for the dolls at 5.30pm, placing them around the dining table, and never entering their rooms unless transporting them to their recreational activities.

Each doll had their own rigorous routine, with some reading, some playing the guitar, and so on. Soonyeol made it clear that sticking to these routines is a must, which included the difficult chore of physically changing the towering dolls in the morning and before bed. They weren’t exactly hollow or porcelain, they were super realistic, their skin had some form of heat to it, and they had some weight to them but not as heavy as they first appeared. You had asked Soonyeol what they were made of but she brushed your question off, leaving you even more curious, the only conclusion you could come up with was sandbags or clay.

Currently, you are in the kitchen, cooking up a meal that none of them will touch. Of course, you didn’t expect them to chow down on your homemade lasagna considering they couldn’t even move their mouths, but seeing everything laid out and untouched after you give them exactly 35 minutes to eat (a rule in that godforsaken binder), it fills you with a sense of unease.

Within the mansion's walls, time seems to grind to a halt unless you make it move, you as the sole animate presence amidst the silence.

You bring the plated food into the dining room, placing a dish in front of each doll. Despite the absurdity of the situation, you play along dutifully, conscious of Mia's warning that the dolls may be rigged with hidden cameras. To be fair, their eyes do seem to follow you, or perhaps that was just your imagination.

“This is such a waste of food,” you scoff, placing the last plate down to the doll with freckles on his face who is labelled in the binder as Sunghoon. You can’t help but think about all the food that is being wasted when there are people still relying on food banks, it makes you bubble with anger, yet, you’re the one doing it. You could easily just not feed them and just pretend to Soonyeol you did, but again, the eyes that surround the castle could be the difference between you keeping this job and going back home with nothing.

Soonyeol could easily fire you if it got back to her you starved her precious babies while she was gone, and that £5,000 is enough money to get you by while you look for another job, so you’ll do as you’re told for now.

With a resigned sigh, you wipe your hands on your apron and offer a forced smile to the lifeless dolls, "Enjoy," you mutter sarcastically, before turning on your heel and retreating from the room, leaving them to their silent feast.

“Thank you!”

The words catch you off guard, freezing you mid-step. Did you actually just hear that? Slowly, you spin on your heel, astonishment written over your face. There they sit, precisely as you left them, their expressions the same as before. Yet, undoubtedly, the voice came from their direction.

Narrowing your eyes in suspicion, you examine them closely, your fingers poking Sunghoon’s shoulder to try and elicit any response, but one never comes.

You could have sworn you heard a voice, a soft accent drifting into your ears. It’s not like it could have been the TV or radio, Soonyeol was lacking in the entertainment department, opting for more classic ways to entertain herself like board games and books.

"This place is making me lose my mind," you scoff, disbelief mingling with a nervous laugh. You are officially losing the plot, thinking the dolls can suddenly speak. What’s next, they’ll suddenly get up and help you with the dishes?

Maybe you just need to go for a walk around the mansion, touch some grass or whatever. Your mind needs some nature to set itself straight. With a final incredulous glance at the dolls, you shake your head, dismissing your fanciful worries.

Stepping into the garden, you're greeted by the warmth of the summer sun kissing your skin. The sprawling lawn stretches for acres, overgrown yet hinting at hidden beauty beneath the tangled vines and moss-covered statues.

The pathway is clear, giving you a chance to wander further into the field. With some TLC and a green thumb, you ponder whether you could turn this landscape into a true garden, it’s not like there is much else to do, but would Soonyeol be okay with that? Everything else in this house is seemingly stuck in a different century; the large gold-framed portraits, the scatter of porcelain dolls that look like something straight from a horror movie, and the furnishings scream Renaissance. Maybe she prefers it that way.

You are perplexed by the mystery surrounding Soonyeol and her isolated living. A lack of information about her and this home has you grasping at straws. The mansion has no internet or even a good phone service which raises your suspicions about her more. There is only a landline phone that is set to make local calls. All you've learned from this information is why she resorted to placing a job advertisement in the newspaper.

Questions swirl in your mind. Why choose such isolation? Living alone, devoid of company or modern comforts, seems unimaginable. Two months might be tolerable, but for someone to endure years in solitude, it's perplexing. But then again, who are you to judge? She might prefer her own company and God knows there must be a lot less drama.

Lost in thought, you reach out to touch a thorn from a withered rosebush, only to recoil in pain as it pricks your index finger, "Shit!" you shout, instinctively sucking on the wound as blood wells up. Why you felt driven to touch such an obviously dangerous plant escapes you completely.

Sulking back inside the house, you walk directly to the kitchen, the sight of familiar surroundings provides some consolation as you go towards the sink, your injured finger throbbing with each step. Who knew a thorn could cause so much damage?

You reach for the basin and turn on the cold tap, hoping for a little relief. As chilled water falls over your wound, you sigh with relief, the coolness relieving the pain immensely, with a sudden sensation of peace flowing over you.

The clock's chime breaks through the quiet, jolting you back into reality. It's 6pm so it's time to tend to the dolls again. You reach to get a plaster from the first aid kit, only to find it empty except for a single bandage and some foil blankets. Panic sets in as you examine the seriousness of your bleeding finger; it’s a neverending flow of crimson which only makes you pout, sucking on it once again.

Desperately searching the kitchen cupboards, you find bits of kitchen roll and sellotape. It's not ideal, but you have no other choice. You gently wrap the kitchen roll around your wound, securing it with sticky tape. The improvised dressing will have to suffice; the thought of spilling your blood on Soonyeol's cherished dolls sends chills down your spine. You don't want to think about what she would do.

Stepping into the dining room, you're greeted by the familiar sight: cold food arranged neatly before the four unyielding dolls. Their impassive stares seem to pierce through you, sending a chill down your spine.

With a theatrical pout and arms crossed, you address the silent company, "Didn't quite hit the mark with my culinary masterpiece, huh?" you jest, met only with the silence of inanimate figures. Chuckling to yourself, you gather the untouched plates onto the cart, contemplating a pragmatic solution, "Well, I suppose I could just freeze these and give them to you tomorrow," you quip. Soonyeol said to feed them, she didn’t say it couldn't be the same meal over and over again.

After clearing up the dining hall and putting the meals in the freezer, you make your way to retrieve the rusty wheelchair you are convinced will give you tetanus from the hallway closet. It’s the easiest way to transport the boys from A to B, and you daren’t carry them anywhere in case you drop and smash them.

As you unfold the chair, a creak reverberates from behind you, causing your muscles to tense involuntarily. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end as a chill courses through your veins. While the old house has its usual symphony of creaks and groans, this sound feels different, more sinister, as if someone - or something - is lurking in the shadows.

“Hello?” you say whispering yet not daring to look behind you. If you have learned anything from the multitude of horror movies you’ve watched over the tears, it’s that as soon as you look back, all shit breaks loose.

You stand there with your heart pounding in your chest and you scold yourself inwardly for succumbing to irrational fear, "Come on, Y/N, pull yourself together," you mutter, attempting to rally your nerves. But the silence that follows your whispered reassurance only amplifies the unease settling in the pit of your stomach.

With a resigned sigh, you steel yourself for whatever may lie behind you, “Fuck, Y/N, just turn around. If you’re going to die, you might as well get it over with,” you chide yourself, voice tinged with frustration.

Thinking it’s best to just face whatever your demise is, you swiftly turn around, half-expecting to come face-to-face with some unseen terror. Yet, all that greets you is the empty hallway, bathed in the dim glow of the flickering lights. There's no sign of an intruder, no lurking threat—just the same mundane surroundings you've grown accustomed to.

You never thought you’d think this, but you’re happy to see the tiny collector dolls that line the hallway.

A mixture of relief and embarrassment floods over you as you realize the absurdity of your fears. "God, I'm losing it," you mutter, a manic laugh bubbling up from deep within. With a self-deprecating shake of your head, you lightly slap your forehead with the base of your palm, chastising yourself for letting your imagination run wild.

First, the talking dolls, now this unfounded paranoia—it's becoming increasingly clear that the isolation of this mansion is taking its toll on your sanity.

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you shake off the lingering unease and embarrassment to focus on your duties.

With a determined stride, you make your way back to the dining room, the memory of your brief bout of hysteria fading into the recesses of your mind. You push the wheelchair over to the table to retrieve one of the dolls, however, a glint of blue catches your eye.

A plaster - suddenly, inexplicably there, resting in front of the doll named Jongseong.

Your brow furrows in confusion, disbelief coursing through you. "How... was that there the whole time?" you mutter, disbelief colouring your tone as you glance between your injured finger and the God-sent plaster.

With a mixture of curiosity and trepidation, you reach out to pick up the plaster, examining it closely as if searching for any sign of trickery. But it appears to be nothing more than an ordinary adhesive plaster.

"Okay, this is getting ridiculous," you mutter to yourself, unable to suppress a nervous chuckle. The rational part of your mind insists there must be a logical explanation for the plaster's sudden appearance, but logic seems to have taken a backseat in this peculiar mansion.

Surely you would have noticed it on the table when you were serving the food…right?

Deciding to set aside your questions for the moment, you carefully retrieve the plaster and apply it to your injured finger, the soothing sensation providing a small measure of comfort.

As you finish tending to your wound, you cast a wary glance at the dolls, half-expecting them to spring to life and offer an explanation. But they remain as silent and motionless as ever, their enigmatic presence only adding to the mystery of this place.

With a resigned sigh, you focus once again on getting the dolls to their rooms. Maybe if they’re out of your sight, you’ll stop conjuring up these ridiculous notions that are swirling in your mind.

“C’mon Jaeyun, let’s get you to bed,” you say softly as you pick him up with a strong heave. The weight of him in your arms is a humbling realisation that you need to start going to the gym more because lifting a doll shouldn’t be this taxing.

Plonking him onto the wheelchair, you begin to make your way to his room. The corridors grow longer each time you make the journey to their respective bedrooms and with the house being the size that it is, transporting them is the equivalent of taking a quick nip to your big Tesco and back.

Finally reaching Jaeyun's room, you turn the ornate handle and push the wheelchair inside. The room is bathed in a soft, amber glow, casting a warm hue over the plush furnishings and intricate decor. With careful precision, you guide Jaeyun onto the bed, taking a moment to study his features up close.

The doll's face, once unsettling in its hyper-realistic detail, now holds a curious fascination. Despite the initial unease you felt in their presence, you can't help but admire the craftsmanship that went into their creation.

Jaeyun's eyes, a rich shade of brown, hold a mesmerising depth that seems to draw you in and they glimmer with an almost golden hue when touched by sunlight, adding a touch of ethereal beauty to his already captivating features. His lips, full and luscious and they evoke sense of envy into you, marvelling at their perfection. His nose, a graceful arc that sits harmoniously amidst his features, only adds to the beauty.

With gentle admiration, you touch his bottom lip with your thumb, amazed at its softness. If Jaeyun were a living, breathing being, you can't help but imagine how irresistible those lips would be, how you would find any excuse to steal a kiss. The feel of his lip beneath your thumb is uncannily real, its texture mirroring your own, and as you release it, it springs back into place as if alive.

Your eyes dart over his face, drinking him in as you fix his long, dark hair, “You’re so beautiful,” you whisper, the words leave your lips almost unintentionally, spoken in peaceful tones as if frightened to disrupt the calm tranquillity of the moment.

“Thank you.”

Your entire body goes rigid as you hear the same words from the dining table, mirroring the exact accent you had heard before. The hand that had been gently brushing aside the stray strand of hair now drops to your side, your eyes fixed on Jaeyun's mouth as it forms into a bright smile.

As if gasping for air, you stare at him in disbelief, pointing a trembling finger in his direction. "Y-you just spoke!" you manage to exclaim, your words choked with bated breaths. Panic threatens to engulf you as you try to understsnd what is happening.

Your mind races, grasping for something, anything to hold onto as the world spins around you but there's nothing, and your body betrays you, collapsing to the ground in a desperate attempt to escape the surreal nightmare unfolding before you.

With wide, terrified eyes, you watch as Jaeyun moves slightly, preparing yourself for the inevitable scream that threatens to tear from your throat. But before you can utter a sound, he rushes towards you with a look of panic etched on his features.

Jaeyun's eyes are filled with concern as he gazes down at you, his hand covering your mouth to stifle any outcry. With a gentle yet urgent expression, he leans in closer, his lips forming almost silent words as he implores you to remain quiet, “Please. Shhh, I’m sorry!” he says with urgency, trying to stop you from bellowing out and causing alarm.

Your chest rises and falls with the rapid beat of your heart, your head suddenly feels faint and conflicting emotions wash over you. Fear, confusion, disbelief - all vie for dominance as you struggle to make sense of the impossible situation unfolding before you.

With wide, frightened eyes, you stare up at Jaeyun, searching his face for any sign of explanation or reassurance. But all you find is the same look of concern mirrored in his gaze, a silent plea for understanding.

“I promise, I’m not going to hurt you,” he utters, his body now relaxing as he feels your mouth close under his palm, “If I take my hand away, please don’t scream, okay?”

His words are filled with panic, a frantic attempt to prevent more concern. When you look into his eyes, you can sense the sincerity in his plea, a glimpse of humanity you didn't think was possible.

For a moment, the world seems to stand still, the air thick with tension and uncertainty on both of your parts. But then, with a shaky breath, you nod in silent acquiescence, willing yourself to trust the doll before you.

Jaeyun’s hand slowly withdraws from your mouth but is still armed in case you fall through on your promise to stay quiet. Once he's satisfied that you won't scream, Jaeyun rises to his feet, offering you a shaky hand. You accept, noting the slight tremor in his grip, evidence that he's just as affected by this inexplicable turn of events as you are.

Standing before him, you can't shake the feeling of disbelief that washes over you. None of this makes sense - talking dolls, moving on their own accord - it's all so implausible, so surreal. And yet, here you are, faced with the undeniable reality of Jaeyun's existence.

"What are you?" you ask tentatively, withdrawing your hand from his as you study him intently, searching for any clues to unravel the mystery.

Jaeyun tilts his head in confusion, his expression mirroring your own bewilderment. "I'm a doll, you know that," he replies matter-of-factly.

"Yes, but how are you moving? How are you speaking? Are you possessed? Alive? Am I dreaming this?" you barrage him with questions, your mind racing with a million possibilities, each more absurd than the last.

“I’m Sim Jaeyun, manufactured in 2002,” Jaeyun says as though it’s so obvious, which to his defence, it is - the stamp on his back that you’ve caught sight of while changing him is proof, "I'm the model made for Australia. G'day mate!" he adds, attempting to inject some levity into the conversation with an exaggerated Australian accent. But his efforts fall flat in the face of your mounting terror and confusion.

"I don't understand," you whisper, your voice trembling with uncertainty, "How is this possible?"

Jaeyun's expression softens, sympathy flickering in his eyes as he meets your gaze, "I wish I had all the answers," he admits, his voice gentle yet tinged with resignation, "But the truth is, even I don't fully understand what's happening to me. I ended up here one day. The others just tell me not to ask questions.”

As Jaeyun's words sink in, a surge of disbelief sweeps over you, threatening to overwhelm you in a sea of bewilderment and despair, "Others? You mean..."

"My brothers, the ones you've been looking after for Soonyeol," Jaeyun says, his voice calm.

The realisation hits you like a tonne of bricks: all four dolls, like Jaeyun, are somehow alive. You've spent the last two days living under the same roof as these living dolls, entirely oblivious of their true selves. The idea of it sends shivers down your spine, and a dreadful feeling rises in the pit of your stomach.

Every creak in the floorboards, every echo in the halls - you had chalked them up to the ageing mansion itself. But now, you realise that they were caused by these living dolls moving about, silently watching and listening to your every move.

You contemplate the idea that you're going insane because the stress and isolation of the mansion have finally taken their toll on your sanity. But deep down, you know that this is far too real to be a figment of your imagination.

Sensing your distress, Jaeyun guides you to sit beside him on the bed, his touch gentle yet strangely disconcerting. A doll is offering you comfort while your mind is in a whirlwind of emotions that threaten to overwhelm you. In what world is any of this normal?

His thumb strokes the back of your hand as you sit in silence. A small smile creeps on his face and a blush somehow paints itself on the apples of his cheeks as he remembers your earlier comments.

“You think I’m beautiful?” he asks gently, drawing you back into reality from the maze of your mind.

“What?”

"You said I was beautiful," he repeats, his tone gentle yet earnest, his eyes filled with a quiet joy. Jaeyun's smile widens slightly, his body shifting to fully face you.

As you finally meet his gaze, the weight of his words settles upon you, and you see just how much your earlier compliment meant to him. The twinkle in his eye reflects a depth of emotion that mirrors that of a human, his happiness evident in the way his features soften and his eyes light up with warmth. If he was beautiful before, he is otherworldly now.

“Yeah…you are,” you confess, now reciprocating his blush.

Jaeyun's hand gently cups your cheek, his touch sending a shiver down your spine and you can't help but feel something blossom within you. His palm, slightly cool against your flushed skin, serves as a reminder of the surreal reality in which you find yourself.

Jaeyun's lips suddenly meet yours, enveloping you with his gentle kiss. Touching his lips earlier paled in comparison to the sensation of his soft, plump mouth moving against yours, and it sends a shiver of pleasure coursing through your veins; for a fleeting moment, you allow yourself to be swept away by the intensity of the moment.

But as reality crashes back down upon you, the weight of what you're doing comes crashing down.

This is a doll, not a real person.

You push Jaeyun away and your mind suddenly clears, “What are you doing, Jaeyun?” you ask both perplexed by his actions and a little disgruntled by yours.

His wide eyes only serve to make you feel guilty, there’s a tinge of hurt in them along with confusion. His hand removes itself from your face, leaving your cheek cold and craving his touch again.

"Soonyeol says I should kiss when I want to show my appreciation," Jaeyun explains, his voice tinged with confusion and a defeated tone that tugs at your heartstrings. It's clear that he's not accustomed to being rejected like this, his owner obviously giving him what he wants.

Now that you think about it, Soonyeol must know they’re real, meaning she has relationships with these dolls. Granted, you figured that out when you were undressing them and saw they are anatomically correct, but now this is a whole new layer. She has formed connections with them that go beyond using the dolls for her pleasure.

"Isn't it cheating?" you ask, locking eyes with Jaeyun, ignoring your swift realisation of the risk. Those beautiful brown eyes seem to draw you in, inviting you to forget all reason and succumb to the burning need between you.

He shakes his head slowly, a tinge of hesitation in his eyes as he chews his lip, "No. Soonyeol shares us, which means I can be shared. It's how it works," he says, his words laced with desperation as he tries to defend his actions. He knows Soonyeol won’t see it that way, but he needs you for his own selfish pleasure; he can’t wait two months until his minder comes back.

However, the rational half of your mind perks up one last time, refusing to be influenced by Jaeyun's words, forcing you to express the painfully evident reality that lies between you, "You're a doll, Jaeyun," you say, the words thick with reality.

However, as if feeling your wavering resolve, Jaeyun's demeanour changes, his puppy-like appearance giving way to one of mischief and longing. With a sudden boldness, he comes in closer, your noses touching as your breath hits his lips.

"I'm a doll with everything you need," he says seductively, sending shivers down your spine as his luscious lips brush against yours with each syllable.

Your heart races as Jaeyun's proximity overwhelms your senses. Despite the nagging voice of reason in the back of your mind, you find yourself unable to resist the magnetic pull of his presence.

As Jaeyun leans in for another kiss, his persistence and gentle touch send a rush of heat coursing through your body. You find yourself melting into his embrace once more, unable to resist his lips on yours. His smile against your mouth fills you with something beautiful.

His hand finds your cheek, his touch tender yet possessive as he deepens the kiss, sending your senses reeling. The surreal sensation of his tongue, colder than any other person's you’ve had the pleasure to kiss, intertwining with yours only adds to the intensity of the moment.

But as the kiss grows more passionate, you feel Jaeyun's hands begin to roam, his touch becoming more urgent and insistent. The way he impatiently tugs at the hem of your t-shirt and his hips practically humping the air through desperation, heightens your own arousal.

You draw back, taking your shirt off, giving him what he wants. Jaeyun's eyes light up in delight at the sight before him, his gaze raking over your exposed skin with hunger. Without hesitation, his hand instinctively reaches out to touch you, his fingers grazing over the fabric of your bra as he seeks to explore every inch of your body.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispers, as he stares up at you. You understand why he’s so used to getting his way, that face of his could start wars if he asked.

With a soft smile, your fingers continuing to thread through his hair with a gentle touch, "Nothing in comparison to you," you confess, your words spoken with genuine admiration.

Jaeyun's response is a soft whimper, his body trembling slightly under your touch as he leans into your caress. It's clear that he thrives on the affection and validation you offer him, cherishing every compliment and sweet gesture. He isn’t going to take control of this situation, he wants you to lead him, to make him feel like he is yours.

And he looks so fuckable right now.

Feeling emboldened by the rush of desire coursing through your veins, you seize the opportunity to take control of the situation. With a newfound confidence, you gently push Jaeyun back onto the bed, straddling him as you hover above.

His eyes widen in surprise, a mix of anticipation and excitement flickering in their depths as he watches you with rapt attention. With a playful glint in your eyes, you lean down to capture his lips in a searing kiss, your hands trailing down his chest and exploring every contour of his body.

Jaeyun responds eagerly, his hands roaming over your back as he returns your kiss with equal fervour. But as the heat between you intensifies, you can sense his longing for more, his desire for you palpable in every touch and caress.

You plaster on a mischievous smile and lean back slightly, teasingly tracing your fingers along the waistband of his pants. He hitches in anticipation, his eyes darkening with desire as he silently urges you to continue.

With deliberate slowness, you begin to unbutton his pants, savouring the feeling of power that courses through you with each movement. As the fabric falls away, you're met with the sight of his cock outline, his arousal evident in the way he strains against the confines of his underwear.

You lean down to press your lips against his neck, trailing soft kisses along his jawline as you whisper in his ear, "Do you want me to look after you, baby doll?"

He mewls out and nods quickly, knowing that is the only thing he needs right now. Your touch is different to Soonyeol’s, yours is filled with a new fire that you’re discovering, while Soonyeol’s is experienced and knows of Jaeyun’s wants and needs. He can’t deny that he feels even more alive than before right now.

Trailing one finger over his clothed cock, you apply pressure as you reach his tip, causing him to whine out. You aren’t typically in charge in the bedroom but you can’t deny how easy it is when Jaeyun is underneath you, silently begging for you to claim him.

You pull down his boxers, seeing his cock in a new light. Honestly, you tried not to stare at it too long when you changed him but you knew whatever Soonyeol had ordered, she ordered it with herself in mind. He was average-sized but curved to the right, meaning he could hit places some others couldn’t; even the thought made your mouth water.

There’s a desire to know how his cock is standing to attention considering there isn’t any blood in his body, but this whole situation defies logic so what’s one more question to add to the pile? All you can really think about is how good having him inside you will feel.

Grabbing his length, you begin to pump him gently, still trying to navigate how fragile he is and how far you can take this. He isn’t made of glass but you still need to be careful.

His reaction is immediate, his jaw slackening as you pick up the pace, your movements becoming more assured. Jaeyun’s legs kick slightly as his body involuntarily moves under your touch, desperate for more than you’re offering him.

Sensing his need, you lean in and give his cock a teasing lick before spitting on it, slickening the surface to make your motions even smoother. His breath hitches at the sensation, a low groan escaping his lips as he arches into your touch, craving more of the pleasure you're giving him.

With a hunger that matches his own, you release him from your grip and lean down, taking him into your mouth with a slow, deliberate motion. His gasp fills the air as you envelop him, the wet heat of your mouth sending shivers down his spine.

"Y/N..." Jaeyun's voice is barely a whisper, filled with a mix of disbelief and pleasure.

You glance up at him, meeting his gaze with a smouldering intensity before returning your focus to the task at hand. With practiced skill, you move your lips and tongue in tandem, exploring every inch of him with a fervour that leaves him trembling.

There is an urge to look after him, with each whine and whimper he screeches out in response to your tongue flicking over his tip, you want to cherish him as your own. You carefully watch his face to make sure he is enjoying himself which clearly he is, his eyes screwed shut and chest heaving despite the lack of air.

Pushing his length further into your mouth, you feel the tip of him hit the back of your throat, piercing your tonsils as they involuntarily try to swallow around him. You switch between bobbing your mouth and enveloping his whole cock down your throat, staying there for a moment as you nuzzle your nose against his lower abdomen.

His fingers thread through your hair, a silent plea for more as you continue to lavish attention on him, each suck and swirl of your tongue pushing him closer to the edge of ecstasy.

"Oh god, Y/N," he groans, his voice thick with need. "I-I can't... I'm gonna..."

Can he cum? Like physically, is your mouth about to be filled with doll cum? You’re going to find out eventually.

But who says he can get everything he wants just at the bat of an eyelid?

You pull back slightly, your lips glistening with saliva as you gaze up at him with a wicked grin. "Not yet," you tease, your voice husky from the beating your throat has just taken, "I want to hear you beg for it.”

His eyes widen with anticipation, a need burning in their depths as he watches you, “But Soonyeol always lets me cum,” he pouts, the edges of his mouth drooping down.

“I’m not Soonyeol though, am I?” you retort, your hand stroking him again, “I can stop completely if you want?”

Jaeyun doesn’t like that idea, shaking his head manically and chanting ‘no’ as he looks at you with pleading eyes. His minder is kind, always giving him the pleasure he needs when he wants it, so this is new to him, yet, he can’t help but find some pleasure in the prolonging of his orgasm.

“Come on, baby doll, beg for it,” you murmur against his tip, looking up at him through hooded eyes as you tease the tip of his cock.

His breath catches in his throat at your words, his mind a haze of desire as he struggles to find his voice, "Please, Y/N," he gasps, his voice thick with need, "Please let me cum. I need it, I need you so bad."

The desperation in his voice and his tiny weeps send a shiver down your spine, and with a satisfied smirk, you relent, taking him fully into your mouth again.

You aren’t like this in bed but he just manages to bring out this side of you and you can’t complain about it.

As Jaeyun's fingers tangle in your hair, a shiver of anticipation courses through you, heightened by the primal instinct driving his actions. You feel the tension building in his body, his movements becoming more urgent as he approaches the brink of release.

With a final tug at your roots, he tightens, his balls drawing up as he releases into your mouth with a guttural groan of pleasure. His hips buck uncontrollably, driving himself deeper into your throat as he rides the waves of ecstasy coursing through him.

You surrender to the moment, allowing him to take control as he thrusts into your mouth, his movements are rough yet achingly intimate. Each sensation sends sparks of pleasure racing through you, mingling with the taste of him on your tongue as he spurts his essence. It’s not exactly cum, it doesn’t taste like it, but it’s filling your mouth up, some of it dripping out onto the bed below you.

And as he finally reaches the peak of his pleasure, his body trembling with the force of his release, you swallow him down, accepting him completely. You lap up the last few drops before giving a gentle kiss on his bell, smiling slightly as you relish in your work.

Jaeyun’s face exhibits one of pure bliss, his grin wide and his eyes closed. He looks so ethereal right now, your only wish is to cater to him. Soonyeol must have her hands full if she does this with all of them, no wonder she would need two months off.

Sitting up, his hands pull at your jeans, unbuttoning them with determination but you stop him, “Jaeyun, what are you doing?” you ask.

“I’m going to fuck you, is that not okay?” Jaeyun’s eyes have that spark in them just like before but more intense, like he’s bursting to the brim with happiness.

You can see the determination in Jaeyun's eyes, the fire of desire burning bright despite the recent climax. His eagerness to please you matches your own desire to cater to him, but you can't help but feel a twinge of apprehension.

"Are you not tired, Jaeyun?" you reply gently, placing a hand on his cheek to capture his attention, “I don't want to push you too far."

Jaeyun's expression softens at your words, his gaze meeting yours with unwavering sincerity, “I’m a doll, Y/N, I don’t get tired.”

Damn, maybe you should invest in one of these unalive-alive dolls with the £5,000 you’ll get from this job.

He sees your astonishment and laughs softly, his teeth on full display, “You’re so fucking pretty when you’re confused, Y/N,” his voice is back down to a whisper, his hand enclosing yours on his cheek as he nuzzles into it. Jaeyun knows how to use his charm to get what he wants but it’s significantly easier when the person he is trying to persuade wants it just as much as he does.

You find yourself nodding in agreement, unable to resist his enticement. With a shared understanding, you move in to capture his lips in yours, sealing the moment with a delicate kiss.

His hands go back to work, pulling at your jeans to take them off of your hot body. You help him out, pulling away from his mouth to undress yourself, leaving you both naked and wanting nothing more than to be entangled in one another.

“Wow,” he utters as his eyes trail your body from head to toe. His owner is beautiful but you have something about you that is sucking him in, the curve of your hips and the stretch marks on your thighs; you’re a vision he never wants to forget.

You turn scarlet as you see him staring at you, suddenly feeling less confident than before. But he quickly eases your mind as he licks his lips and pulls you into his lap, placing you to sit right on his cock, “I think you were wrong earlier,” he mutters into your shoulder as he places kisses along your chest.

“What do you mean?” Confusion lingers in your mind as you process his words, your fingers instinctively tangling in his hair as you look down at him with a mixture of surprise and affection.

“When you said you weren’t as beautiful compared to me. I think you’re so wrong,” he admits in a hushed tone, hands roaming along your waist and down to your thighs, feeling every inch of you.

Leaning down, you kiss him again except this time, you grind your hips, letting his cock slide between your folds and his tip brush against your clit teasingly. The action makes you both groan out in lust, wanting nothing more than to be tangled in one another.

Jaeyun lightly slaps your ass to signal you to hover slightly, ready to dive into you. He hasn’t had sex with anyone other than Soonyeol so his eagerness is palpable, his mouth fighting a bright smile akin to a puppy.

Once you’re above him, he guides his cock to your hole and sharply pushes into you, causing you to fall forward onto his chest.

He enthusiastically bucks his hips up into you, ensuring that he is catering to every inch of your pleasure. Although he enjoys being looked after and cared for, he will always reciprocate; your enjoyment is as important to him as his own.

It's funny how different he is with you than with his owner; with you, he wants nothing more than to impress you, evident by the way he's focused on fucking into you, but with Soonyeol, he does whatever he wants to give her pleasure but there's no need to put in massive amounts of effort.

You feel his dick pressing deep into you, that curve that you noticed earlier is now doing wonders against your walls. Meeting his thrusts, you bounce on him, your hands gripping his shoulders as you pick up your pace.

The sound of your skin slapping against Jaeyun is like music to his ears, the smile he was trying to fight off now splitting his face, the joy of fucking you so obvious from his expression. He wants to do this forever.

Looking down, you see him lost in glee and lust as he continues to thrust up into you at a fast pace, his gaze down at where you’re pussy is sucking him in. Gently, you lift his face to look at you, his wide gleaming eyes now staring into yours.

“You’re doing so good, pup,” you assure him, kissing the tip of his nose. He feels his non-existant heart soar at your words, his face radiant with your praise. And you weren’t just saying it, he truly was sensational, probably the best you’ve had in a long time.

Jaeyun takes your words of appraisal and uses them to fuck into you harder, his mouth now attached to your nipple and he sucks and licks at it like a man starved.

You can feel that familiar coil in your stomach that signifies you’re close to release. Snaking your hand down to your clit you begin to rub circles on it quickly, but as soon as Jaeyun notices, he nudges your hand away and takes care of it himself, rubbing and pinching it between his thumb and pointer finger.

Throwing your head back, your breathing stops momentarily as you push out your orgasm, your wetness coating your inner thighs and his cock as you cum harshly around him, “Jaeyun, fuck!” you cry, hands gripping any part of Jaeyun they can.

Jaeyun shudders as you clench around him, spilling himself into your heat along with you. He rubs his face desperately against your tits, relishing in the feeling of you against him. He has this aching need to be as close to you as possible.

Both of you are in complete and utter bliss as you hold one another, coming down from your highs.

As Jaeyun peppers open-mouthed kisses along your neck, he savours the sensation of your heartbeat, saddened slightly by his lack of. If he had one, he wished you could hear how loudly it was beating from pure satisfaction and tenderness.

"That was incredible, Y/N," he murmurs against the curve of your nape, his smile pressing warmly against your skin.

You tenderly kiss the top of his head and linger there for a moment, your fingers tracing light strokes along his back. But as the clock chimes once again, signalling the passage of time, reality intrudes upon your blissful moment.

"Fuck, I need to get the others to bed," you say regretfully, reluctantly withdrawing yourself from Jaeyun's embrace. The air feels colder now that night is settling in, and the absence of his touch leaves you longing for his warmth.

Jaeyun watches you with a mixture of understanding and longing as you get dressed, his gaze following your movements with a hint of reluctance, he wants you to stay beside him the way Soonyeol does, to look after him a little longer.

Before you part ways, Jaeyun reaches out to gently grasp your hand, "Y/N," he begins, his voice soft yet filled with urgency, "Please, don't tell the others. We aren’t supposed to tell you, and they already think I’m incapable of keeping a secret,” he says disheartened, the last sentence laced with vulnerability.

His plea catches you off guard, but you can see the sincerity in his eyes. Kneeling beside the bed, you take his hand into yours and kiss it softly, “I promise, I will not tell anyone, okay?” you reassure him, punctuating your sentiment with a smile, “This stays between us.”

It’s a promise not only to him but also to yourself. At the end of the day, no matter how good it was, you fucked a doll - an alive one, but still a doll.

With a grateful smile, Jaeyun leans in to press a gentle kiss against your lips, a silent gesture of gratitude for your understanding, “Thank you, Y/N. This won’t be the last time, will it?” he asks tentatively, trying to seek out how you might feel about the entirety of the situation.

You weigh up the question in your mind. On one hand, you would have someone to talk to and indulge in, but on the other, it’s risky and if Soonyeol found out, you know there would be hell to pay.

“Let’s just see how it goes, pup,” you say vaguely, kissing his forehead one more time.

This mansion is filled with secrets that you need to uncover, and you have two months to do it.

taglist: @nshmrarki @kgneptun @ui11iane @addictedtohobi @parksunghoonsgf @chaewonshoney @chiiiiiiiiis @lilyuwon @rayofsunshineeee @moon7jay @erehkinnie30 @brownsugarbaybee @minniejenseo @woninluv @jaysluvs @fakeuwus @capri-cuntz @ash024 @who-tf-soddhi @bambangan @vousty @heeseungspookie @alvojake @yorukoshii @haechonly @riftanswhore @belowbun @emikotakayami @branchrkive @featjunranghae @thejjrl @nyxtwixx @sunghoonnsupremacy @nctislifue @itsnikitty @enhypenlovre

#enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen x reader #jake smut #jake sim smut #sim jaeyun smut #aj writes #enhypen fic #the doll house

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my-castles-crumbling · 2 days

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Marauders Kahoot (Quizizz) Results!

Drumroll, please! <3

So, taking into account glitches, people who tried more than once (second, third, etc tries were not counted) and people who did not put their tumblr names, here are the results!

Overall Fandom Accuracy Level: 62% Completion rate: 81% Participants: 393 people

RANKINGS:

@fallenangel813

@motherof-fuck

@imheredisappointingmyparents

@onthemerits

@potterssun

For the people who won, inbox me your requests! 2nd-5th place get a microfic (if they want) and 1st gets a oneshot (if they want). If you have any preferred pairings, ratings, tropes you like/dislike. I prefer writing wolfstar and jegulus, but I'll try most pairings, as long as they are consensual (no illegal age gaps). I'll also write platonic.

HERE is a link to the quizizz again, to play just for fun! I will also put it in my pinned post.

Thanks for playing, guys! This was so much fun! Reblog to get the results out there!

#marauders #harry potter #marauders era #marauders fandom #fanfic #harry potter marauders #the marauders #the marauders era #marauder era #marauders fanfiction #the marauders fandom

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mattyriddlesbitch · 22 hours

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Okay so what if like the reader is a big prankster(preferably in Gryffindor) and she like plays a prank on the Slytherins but Blaise catches her and eventually it leads to spicy stuff 🥵🥵

I love this idea. Thank you! <3

Caught

Blaise Zabini x Gryffindor!F!Reader

Warnings: a teeny tiny bit of blackmail, unprotected sex, oral(male receiving), cussing

18+ Minors DNI!

You and your friends had a little rivalry with the Slytherin boys. It was all just pranks, nothing harmful. You guys didn’t hate each other, but you played into the house rivalry of Gryffindor vs Slytherin. You guys actually found it fun. No hard feelings between each other.

This time, you had the brilliant idea of rigging it so when they got their clothes out of their lockers next for quidditch, they would get covered in a red powder that stained the skin pretty well. So you snuck down to the locker rooms after you thought everyone had left. The locker rooms were empty so you started working on rigging all the lockers, which was definitely going to take a while considering how many you had to do.

You were about halfway done, trying to hurry up and finish just on the off chance that someone-

“What are you doing?” A voice said behind you and you jumped, turning around to see Blaise leaning against the lockers behind you. Shit.

“Nothing.” You lied, shutting the locker you were working on.

“Doesn’t look like nothing.” Blaise smiled. “You can tell me, I won’t be mad.”

You hesitated. If you told him, he would tell his friends and the prank wouldn’t work. But he might let you go. “A prank.”

“I can tell that much. What’s the prank?” He asked.

“The prank won’t work if I tell you.” You said, smiling sweetly.

He pushed off the lockers and took the few steps to step in front of you, leaning closer to your face. “I won’t tell.” He said, still smiling.

“I’m not saying anymore.” You said, backing up into the locker behind. Bad move.

He followed you, trapping you against the locker. “Come on. I won’t say anything. I just don’t wanna be on the receiving end of that prank.”

“No.” You shook your head.

“I could always go get Snape…” You knew he wouldn’t, but that threat hung in the air for a moment before you decided to do something stupid to save yourself.

You kissed him. You had wrapped your arms around the back of his neck and kissed him. His hands moved to your waist as he kissed you back, leaning you against the lockers. You were hoping to catch him off guard and then slip away, but he seemed ready and made it so you couldn’t just leave.

“Thought you would surprise me and then just get away, huh?” He said as he moved his lips to trail kisses along your neck.

“I was hoping so, yes. Seems you caught on.” You said, sighing softly at his kisses.

“I’m not as dumb as I look, love.” He said before biting softly at the skin on your neck.

“Clearly.” You moved a hand to tangle in his hair as a small moan escaped your lips.

“I’ll make you a little deal, then.” He said against your neck before moving to the other side. “I won’t tell anyone I saw you here, you can have your little prank, if you help me with something.”

“And what’s that something?” You asked, but you were sure you already knew the answer.

Instead of saying anything, he grabbed your arm and brought your hand to his crotch, where his dick was already straining against his pants. Your eyes widened slightly, but you didn’t move your hand away. You already were feeling yourself get wet from those kisses, you couldn’t deny part of you wanted it anyways. “So…Are you going to take the deal?” He asked, biting at your neck again.

“Yes.” You nodded.

“Good.” He said and pulled your hand away so he could undo his pants. He pushed them down along with his underwear and pulled away from your neck to see your face. You were staring at his cock and something about that look made him harder. “Come on. On your knees, baby.” He said and backed up to give you room.

You listened and got down on your knees, feeling the cold, uncomfortable ground. But you didn’t mind, you were too focused on his dick. You wrapped your hand around it, giving it a stroke before teasing his tip with your tongue, looking up at him. He moaned softly from your touch and wrapped his hand in your hair, pulling your hair away from your face.

“I think you can do better than that, right?” He said before pushing your head down so you took him in your mouth. You gagged as he hit the back of your throat and he groaned. He seemed to like that a lot. “Glad we could finally put your mouth to use since you didn’t wanna talk.” He teased as he guided your head up and down his cock. “Fucking hell, this is definitely a much better use of your mouth.” You moaned around him in response. “Wonder if your pussy’s better. You want me to fuck your pussy, baby?” You tried humming out a ‘yes’ around him, but that was a little hard when he kept hitting the back of your throat. He seemed to figure it out, though, because he pulled your mouth off of him and helped you stand up. “You really want it, ma?” He asked as he put his hands back on your waist.

“Yes. Please, I want it.” You nodded.

He smiled and moved to tug your bottoms and panties off before he worked on your shirt and bra. He pulled off his shirt as well and kissed you again, pushing you back against the lockers. He brought his hands to your legs and lifted you up, keeping you pressed against the lockers as he guided his cock to your entrance. “You’re fucking beautiful, you know that?” He said before he started pushing in, making you moan in reply. He bottomed out and you both moaned as he leaned his forehead on yours. “You’re fucking tight, baby. Shit.” He said before he started thrusting.

“Oh my god. Fuck.” You moaned, throwing your head back against the lockers, your arms holding onto him tightly.

“Is that good? Does that feel good?” He asked, kissing along your jaw and neck again.

“Yes! Feels so good, Blaise!” You nodded.

“Are you trying to let everyone back at the castle know how good I’m making you feel?” He teased, but did nothing to quiet you.

“No! Fuck! Just feels so good.” You reply, crying out as he starts thrusting harder.

“Yeah? You wanna cum on my dick, beautiful?” He asked, moving a hand to rub at your clit.

“Fuck! Yes! Please!” Your nails were digging into his back now and he hissed slightly from the pain, but kept going.

“I don’t know. You were trying to play a prank on us. You think you deserve it?” He teased, biting down on your neck again, pulling a whimper from you.

“Yes! I’ve been so good for you. Please.” You nodded.

“Hm.” He hummed against your skin before pulling back. “Fine. I wanna see you cum then. Look at me.”

You tilt your head back down to look at him as he keeps fucking into you. It was hard to focus on him when your eyes wanted to roll back in pleasure, but you managed as you were moaning and crying out for him. Only a few more thrusts and you came, crying out his name like a prayer as he helped ride out your orgasm. He wasn’t far behind you as he pulled out and came on your stomach and tits.

He brought you over to the showers in the locker room and helped you clean up. You both went over to collect your clothes and get dressed afterwards. He went over to open his locker and before you could warn him, the powder exploded on him, covering the top half of his body and you stood there covering your mouth, trying not to laugh.

“You better run, baby.” He warned without even looking at you.

You finally laughed as you took off, leaving him in the locker room covered in the red powder.

#slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys smut #blaise zabini x reader smut #blaise zabini x reader #blaise zabini smut

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pandorasfavorite · 2 days

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i just wanna say i love ur work!!!! how about rough dom x fem!reader?? like he’s all jealous at the after party for mania since we’re spending too much time w logan so he’s all upset then when we get home he literally fucks our brains out. any and all kinks welcome if im being so honest. thank you!! <3

Stay Away

AN: Fuck I love it when he's mad. Also my GIF's always match yall, look at them before indulging

You were friends with Logan, you guessed. Dominik and him got along well so you tried to do the same. You had imagined Dominik would like you socializing with people that he liked too. Dominik was always with you when you spent time with Logan, and Logan was funny as fuck so of course you laughed at him and had fun with him. Just like you would with any friend. Lately, though, you and Logan have become good friends and Dominik's grimace has only gotten more prominent.

Much like today, Logan invited you both onto his podcast and Dominik reluctantly agreed while you did so with no problems. That already ticked Dominik off; why were you so willing to spend time with this dude? Dominik was thinking about how comfortable you were getting around him, way too comfortable. Dominik had no issues admitting he was a jealous man, cause he hated the mere idea of you with any man but him. Call him toxic, Dominik doesn't give a fuck, your his.

Towards the end of the podcast, Dominik was seething, his grip on your thigh was tight and he couldn't crack a smile. Logan shuts off the camera and mic and turns to you with a smile, "I hope to see you again soon". You open your mouth to speak only for your hand to be grabbed and your body moving in the same direction as Dominik. "You won't", Dominik grits out and pulls you along with him, you stumble behind and throw a wave behind your back to Logan. You both step out of the room and Dominik pushes you against the wall with qualms. "Dom", you huff and slouch against the wall at his behavior. Dominik grabs your chin and makes direct contact with you, your submissive eyes, and his possessive ones. "I don't want you around him anymore", he says and waits for you to agree.

But you furrow your eyebrows and look at him with complete and utter confusion at the direction. "But he's your friend", you say and let your lips twitch up in a smile at him. Dominik takes a step closer and uses his other hand to push against your back and bring your body next to his. Dominik was so close his lips were an inch from brushing against yours, "I don't want you breathing near him, let alone looking at him. Understood?". It felt like all the feeling from before had vanished and all your excitement had rushed down below. You nod your head and blink up at him as sweetly as you can, in hopes to calm him down.

Knowing Dominik this was only the beginning, that was your warning for later. For now......

"Stay fucking still", he mumbles from in between your legs with a glistening face from your slick. You writhe and rock up against his face, not only trying to chase an orgasm but to also get away from this one. Dominik had been at it for 15 minutes and you are coming up on your second orgasm. The flicker of his tougnue and his fingers pumping into you rapidly never failed to make your legs shake and your pussy gush. Again his tongue just barely flickers over your clit then his lips take his tongue's place, he sucks on your clit and your legs clamp around his head.

He pushes your thighs off of his head and flushes against the bed, he holds you there and only goes harder against your sensitive clit. Your hips buck up against his mouth as best as they could but Dominik's grip was much too strong. So much so the second orgasm was inevitable and your thighs were trying their hardest to come wrap around his head once again. But Dominik's tattooed hand kept it there. And just as you came with a moan and shakey thighs, Dominik dipped his tougnue into the slit of your pussy, licking up the new juices that began to spill out of you.

You were beginning to get sensitive, and if Dominik kept abusing your pussy with his tongue you swore you'd suffocate him with your thighs. Yet despite your whimpers and smacks on his bare tattooed arms he kept going, letting his teeth just barely scrap across your pussy and his nose bumping against your puffy clit. Your hand slips down into his hair and you tug on it out of instinct, Dominik groans; that was his favorite thing you did. "Come on, please, do it", you were begging him with flushed cheeks and a rising chest to slip his cock inside of you, to feel that stretch and his groans in your ear. "Oh, I can do this all night", he lifts up and smirks only to stick his tongue out completely and suck your pussy into his mouth, making dirty sounds that were music to his ears.

You grunt and sit up just enough to glare at him, "You are so-". Dominik plunges his middle and ring finger inside of you, the cold of his ring nuzzled inside of you. "Feel that? Remember who's in charge here baby, I'd choose your next words more carefully", his fingers are knuckles deep inside of you and his wedding band is only a reminder of how you're his. Then again he glides his mouth across your aching pussy, and you shuffle back trying to get away from the overstimulation. Dominik's other hand smacks your thigh and he lifts up to spit on your pussy, he loved making you flustered by his dirty antics. You nearly whisper her name, only to stop yourself short of embarrassment; after all this time you were still shy in bed. Dominik sits up on his knees and licks his lips with the remains of your taste, "Don't be shy mami, I love the way you moan my name" he teases.

And the moment you do moan his name and grip the sheets, he pushes his twitching cock inside of you, settling into you completely with a slack mouth. It was his nature to talk dirty and let all his thoughts spew out of his mouth at the feeling you gave him. He looks down at the way you're sucking him inside of you, Dominik just wanted to go down on you again at the sight. "Your so gorgeous like that, all spread out f'me like a good girl who just wants to be eaten", he smacks your ass and watches away your skin ripples. You shake your head at the suggestion, "Not again please", you whisper and clench around him in desperation.

"Your mouth is saying one thing, but this pussy is saying another", he presses his thumb down harshly on your clit, "so what is it, pretty? My dick or mouth? I want to use you so fucking bad". Dominik was starting to get impatient and he already started pushing his cock in and out of you. Rocking back and forth, hitting that special spot inside of you that makes you tilt your head back and arch your back. Dominik feels every squeeze around his cock and the tightness only gets better with every thrust. Your skin is sticky with sweat and your thighs are no better, the bottom half of Dominik's face is coated in slick but each swipe of his tongue picked up more of your taste each time. He fucking loved how you looked right now.

"Look at you, such a messy girl for me. You're so wet I'm slipping out of you baby", he grabs your face and brings your attention to him. "If that's the case maybe I should just stop, let you do this by yourself", Dominik taunts you, still thinking of earlier events. "Maybe him", your eyes widen and you try to shake your head no, squeezing around Dominik's cock as an answer in itself. "You can do better than that", he stops moving altogether and leans down to brush his lips against yours. With all your strength you slide your lips against him rocking your hips in an up-and-down motion, "Fuck me" you mumble against his lips. Dominik grins, "There's my needy slut".

#dominik mysterio x reader smut #dominik mysterio smut #dominik mysterio fluff #dominik my bbg #dom dom #dominik mysterio x you #dominik mysterio x reader #dominik mysterio #wwe #dominik mysterio fanfiction #dominik smut #wwe dominik mysterio #mad! dominik mysterio x reader smut #emma writes dom content

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madaqueue · 2 days

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Dripping in Gold | Chapter 10

synopsis: finding a job was never easy, and why even bother trying after you meet satoru gojo, a man with mysterious and exorbitant wealth, who wants nothing more than to spoil you with it? the only caveat to your little arrangement is that it can never, ever, become personal.

pairing: satoru gojo x f!reader

themes/content: non-curse modern au, sugar daddy gojo. language, fluff, angst. kissing, mention of possible abuse. 18+, MDNI

word count: 3.6k

a/n: HERE IT IS!!!! LAST CHAPTER!!!!!! PLOT!!!!!!! thank you all for the support, this has been such a fun series to write <3 xoxoxo

previous chapter | series masterlist

Both of you awake from your fatigue-induced nap a few hours later, the morning sun now bright in the sky. Adjusting in bed, the soreness of your body hits you and you groan in discomfort. The sound is enough to rouse the man next to you as he groggily rubs his eyes.

“Good morning, again,” he laughs softly, reaching down to rub your back.

As his fingertips knead into your skin you lean into his touch, wrapping a leg around his waist under the covers.

“Sore?” he asks, intuitively reading the way you melt under the gentle pressure of his palms against your tight muscles.

“Mhm,” you hum against his chest.

He places a kiss on the top of your head, warm against the heat of your body. “Let me get you cleaned up, yeah? How’s a nice hot shower sound?” he muses idly.

You nod softly in response, not wanting to leave the cocoon of sheets that covers you both but knowing you should eventually get your day started, and having Satoru with you makes the idea much more palatable.

He shifts his weight off the bed, hooking one arm under your knees and the other behind your back to pick you up and bridal carry you to the bathroom. He takes care of everything, gingerly rubbing shampoo into your scalp, attentively rinsing suds off your body, following the trail of water with his lips as he leaves kisses over every inch of you he can find.

When he’s sufficiently cleaned off the physical remnants of the sinful experiences you two shared over the past day, he grabs one of the towels hanging on the back of your door and wraps it around your shoulders.

His tenderness makes your heart swell, the way he so kindly and gently takes care of you without you even having to ask. He knows how to love you silently, how to show his calm adoration towards you in these acts.

The two of you make your way back out to your bed as you sit next to him, leaning against his bare shoulder. He shakes his head, sending droplets flying from his damp hair across the room and onto your face.

A giggle erupts from your lips, the sound bright like windchimes to his ears. “‘Toruuuu,” you whine jokingly as the cold water splashes your skin.

“Sorry,” he blushes, shaking out one more time as you scream through a laugh.

You huff, moving to sit behind him as you pull the towel from your shoulders and place it on his head. Your hands rub it against his hair, Satoru tilting his head back as his eyes flutter closed. Through the warm sun filtering in through the blinds, you silently dry his hair, smiling to yourself at the pure, innocent intimacy of the moment.

When you finish you place a kiss to his forehead, his eyelashes flickering as a grin forms across his face.

Suddenly, a pit forms in your stomach. You’ve been ignoring it, dreading it, running from it for the past day, not wanting to ruin the joy you’ve felt with Satoru. But now it’s here: you have to talk to him.

A sigh leaves your lips, sadness forming across your features. Your eyebrows furrow as your thoughts threaten to spiral.

You can’t lose him again, you can’t. Maybe you shouldn’t talk to him. Maybe you should lie, say you didn’t have feelings for him; but how could you hide it? Things were bad when he was gone, like a dark cloud shadowing everything in your life until he came back, and now you’re supposed to just throw that sunshine away?

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asks, sensing the shift in your demeanor.

Desperately blinking away the tears that started forming in your eyes as you were lost in thought, you shake your head.

Satoru wraps his arms around you, pulling you next to him. “Hey, it’s okay, talk to me, pretty girl,” he hums.

“I…I can’t,” your voice waivers.

He places a kiss to your cheek, your skin hot in frustration and fear. “Can’t what?” he asks innocently, trying to piece together what could have you so distressed.

This morning had been perfect, he cherished every second he had spent with you back in his life. Had he somehow unknowingly done something wrong, something that hurt you? The idea pained him to think about, tightening his grasp around you as he tried to push it away.

“I can’t lose you again,” you whisper weakly.

“Sweetheart, you won’t-” he starts.

You cut him off before he can continue, knowing that if you don’t say it now you may never get your chance.

“Satoru, I still have feelings for you. You were all I could think about when we were apart, every morning felt heavier, every action more painful, I couldn’t do anything without you.” Tears start spilling over your lashes as you force your way through the words. “I want you back in my life, but…shit…I want it to be you. I want us to be together, and if you can’t do that, then I don’t think I can see you anymore.”

Pausing, you look up at him through glossy eyes, the sight of you making his heart nearly shatter all over again.

Fuck, how could he explain this to you? How could he tell you everything? More importantly, would you still want him if you knew?

His gaze shifts down to his hands in his lap, his knuckles had begun turning white as he clenched them together in stress.

The words he knows he needs to say echo in his mind as he struggles to will himself into saying them. Taking in an uneven breath, he starts, “I’m sorry, but you know that’s not how this works-”

“Bullshit,” you cut him off abruptly, the harshness of your tone making him flinch. “I know that’s what you said last time, but there’s no way you believe that.”

It can’t be true, right? He acts like he loves you, the way he takes care of you, the way he holds you, the way he glows when you’re around him, the way everything in him softens in your presence - that has to be love, right?

He sighs, shoving his hands together to hide the way they’re shaking.

Reaching over towards him, you place a hand on his cheek, tilting his head towards you. His eyes are low, unable to meet yours as they begin to cloud with sorrow.

“Please,” your voice waivers, “just tell me what’s going on. Tell me you love me, or that you don’t, I don’t care, I just need to know. Please, Satoru,” you plead, “please.”

His thoughts are fuzzy, conflicted with his responsibilities and his feelings. He knows you deserve clarity, answers, but is it worth the risk of losing everything? Losing you?

“Okay,” he whispers, unable to raise his voice any further. His gaze finally lifts to yours, his lashes blinking slowly over his glassy irises.

Nervousness builds in his chest as he struggles to find the words to begin.

“Um…I guess I should tell you about my family,” he begins.

–

Ever since Satoru Gojo was born he knew he was special.

His parents used to tell him he would inherit the world, that he can and will have everything he desires. He wanted a new toy? It was bought and delivered that night. A nanny upset him? She was gone the next day. He was hungry? A buffet was prepared with his favorites. Every person who worked at his estate learned to recognize the sounds of his shrill cries, any minor distress a sign that something must be done to please him.

Throughout his childhood all he did was learn, training for the day he would be allowed to take over the family business. Every day was spent with knowledge, his teachers allowing his self-directed nature to lead them through his studies. If he was curious about plants they would stroll through the gardens, showing him which ones were edible and which could be poisonous; if he saw a word he didn’t recognize they would read old texts, working through languages with ease; if he stayed up late enough he would inquire about the stars, learning the development of the universe and the physics of planetary motion.

By the time he was twelve, he fluently spoke ten languages, could easily solve graduate-level mathematics problems, and understood the human psyche in a way that afforded him incredible control of his, and other’s, emotions.

Yet, the one thing he couldn’t seem to shake was his empathy.

Growing up he was never allowed friends, always deemed a needless distraction by his parents. They needed him to be cruel, to take and take and take in order to get what was rightfully his; after all, that was how they had managed to get to where they were. Caring too much about what others thought or felt was an invitation for disaster, one that simply could not be permitted. Besides, there was no reason for Satoru to be near anyone who was so, undeniably, less than him.

But unfortunately, Satoru was kind.

One day, his parents observed him kneeling in the garden as he picked flowers for one of his many nannies, the thorns poking at his skin until small trails of blood ran down his fingers. He presented the bouquet to her with a smile on his face, knowing he had chosen her favorite colors.

The next morning he was called into their office, a room he was rarely allowed into. The high ceilings made the space feel cold, despite the fireplace crackling in the corner.

They told him he was foolish, stupid, for what he did: someone of his stature should never dare bend before anyone, nor present them with such an indecent show of affection. She had already been fired for her indiscretion, and they assured him that he would be punished more severely for the next infraction.

He wiped away the tears spilling down his cheeks, dirt still fresh under his fingernails, as he realized what he had done, that it was his fault. He swore to be better, he promised it to them. However, no matter what they did, his parents could not seem to train him out of this awful habit of caring for people. So, they simply continued firing anyone he seemed to grow close to.

As time went on he grew increasingly forlorn, spending hours wandering through the massive estate alone. His sadness eventually began affecting his studies, so his parents reached a compromise: he could have one peer.

Suguru Geto was introduced to him the next day, the boy from a nearby school who similarly showed intellectual promise, and the pair immediately became close. Satoru had never had someone to be around like this, someone his age with his interests, and he cherished the new relationship they formed. Eventually, he learned to call the boy his friend.

Although Satoru spent most of his time continuing his education, every free moment he had he would spend with Suguru. They grew up together, sharing in the experience of boyhood, one Satoru had long since forgotten.

When he turned 18, his parents informed him that he needed to gain further experience before he would be allowed to inherit the company; after all, he had spent his entire life at the estate, and while he had learned immeasurable knowledge from the library full of texts, he had not yet had the opportunity to see how the world truly functioned.

So, Satoru and Suguru moved out, into their apartment together. Of course it was no problem as his family owned the building, and nearly every building in the city, in addition to the power companies, the car companies, the manufacturing plants, and effectively every other corporation in the area.

While nothing explicitly had their name on it, the Gojo family owned the majority of capital across the country, and they truthfully preferred it that way as it allowed them to work in secrecy. Other, more selfish groups tried to overtake them, but their pride always cut their time short in their desperation to be known, to be recognized. The Gojo family instead valued privacy, security, and trust.

It was for this reason that Satoru was never allowed to marry.

Not only because his family wouldn’t dare to fragment their wealth, but also because no single person could ever be deserving of the being that is Satoru Gojo.

In being born special, he was forced to sacrifice normalcy.

–

These thoughts, these ideals, were ones he had to accept from an early age. Every ounce of affection he felt for anyone was a weakness, a flaw, something that he should rid himself of. As a result, he lived a lonely life, despite the material pleasures he was afforded. The only person who could ever understand him was Suguru, yet even he struggled to connect with Satoru in the way he craved.

So, he chose to fill his life with pleasure anywhere else he could find, the most direct route often leading to sex. He could easily separate his emotions from the actions, never daring to let the cracks of his heart show. He walled up his feelings with rules, assuring himself that so long as he followed his self-imposed commandments he would be okay.

Yet, when he met you, it’s like the foundation started to crumble.

He swore he only spent time with women to fuck them, yet you two didn’t even hook up after your first dinner; he swore that there would be no second dates, yet your car broke down, so of course he had to help you; he swore he wouldn’t get attached, yet he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about you every moment you were apart.

He swore to never let things get personal, yet here he is, in your bed, telling you everything.

–

“Satoru?” Your soft voice tethers him back to reality.

His skin feels hot as you wipe away the tears he didn’t even notice were spilling down his cheeks.

“Mhm?” he croaks, his voice hoarse after talking non-stop for what felt like hours as he recounted his life, his struggles, his feelings, to you.

Placing a gentle kiss to his temple, you continue stroking his hair out of his eyes from where it had fallen as he spoke to you. His gaze is still downturned towards his lap, the only place he had been looking as he couldn’t bring himself to face you as he bared his soul.

You reach a hand out to his, holding his shaking palms as your fingers intertwine. “Thank you,” you whisper, “thank you for telling me.”

He nods weakly, trying to stop himself from spiraling: you hate him, you think he’s evil, awful, untrustworthy, unlovable, you never want to see him again, fuck, should he just leave now and save you the trouble of saying it? He ruined it, he ruined everything-

“I love you,” you quietly blurt out.

For a moment, everything in his mind goes quiet.

You…love him?

His eyes flit to your face, meeting your gaze for the first time since he started sharing the story of his life. His lips are parted slightly as he takes in uneven breaths, his cheeks still damp with tears. The sight almost breaks your heart, how fragile he looks, how afraid. You want to throw your arms over his shoulders and hold him but you’re worried the action might cause him to shatter before your eyes.

“Really?” is all he can bring himself to mutter.

“Yes, Satoru,” you hum, the way you say his name so sweetly making his heart race. “I love you.”

And then, his lips are on yours. One of his hands goes to the side of your face, holding you as if to prevent you from slipping away as he kisses you tenderly. You feel the cool wetness of his cheeks against your skin, his lips warm as he leans into you.

“I love you too,” he whispers into your mouth, not daring to separate for even a moment.

He loves you. You love him. For right now, that’s all you need.

–

As your relationship continues to blossom over the next few months, you and Satoru become more and more comfortable with the situation. Of course there are a few growing pains - he stops paying you, obviously, but he still manages to treat you every time you go out. You’ve come to terms with the fact that his family will never know about you, but you’re not sure you’d want to meet them anyways given how they treated Satoru, the emotional turmoil they caused him.

Eventually the two of you move in together, in the same building as his old apartment he shared with Suguru so he doesn’t have to be too far from his best friend, and of course he gets the penthouse unit. As you carry in the boxes of your belongings, you can’t help but realize just how little you own compared to him, but you don’t mind, especially because Satoru spends the next few weeks taking you to new stores everyday, letting you pick out any furniture or decorations that make the space feel like yours. In the back of his mind, he remembers the house where he spent his childhood, one that always made him feel like a guest, and he never wants that for you.

For the first time in your life, things are easy.

Since Satoru’s family owns the building, you don’t have to worry about paying rent (an irony that is not lost on either of you given how you met in the first place). He’s also able to use his money on anything his family deems ‘necessary for his survival,’ and to him the only thing he needs to survive is you, so of course your every wish is taken care of - nice meals, travel, clothes, anything he could think of to spoil you with.

Finally, he feels like he’s using his past, his family, his wealth, for good. Every time he sees you smile he feels like he’s doing good.

But deep down, in the corners of his mind, he knows he can’t continue like this forever, the knowledge of his family one he can’t suppress. Eventually they’ll find out, they’ll cut him off, or worse, they’ll make him cut you off. He can’t go back, he can’t work for them after he’s seen the life he could have with you; so, he starts planning.

On the one year anniversary of the day you officially started dating, the day he confessed everything to you, the day you decided you still love him in spite of his past, he decides it’s time to tell you.

Satoru finds you in your shared bedroom, leaping onto the mattress next to you and wrapping his arms around your body.

“‘Toru,” you giggle, the nickname never failing to make him blush.

“I have a surprise for you, sweetheart,” he smiles, peppering your face with kisses.

When he’s covered every inch of your skin in soft pecks, he rolls off the bed and grabs something from the back of the closet.

“Close your eyes,” he instructs, his back turned towards you. Covering your eyes with your palms, you patiently wait as he rummages through your shared belongings.

“Aaaaaand open!” he proclaims.

Standing at the edge of the bed, he holds out a piece of paper, a toothy smile plastered across his face.

“It’s…” you trail off, leaning forward and squinting at the small print, “an email?”

Confusion is evident on your face as Satoru waltzes toward the bed, grin never faltering. “It is,” he confirms. “Read it.”

Holding the paper out to you, your eyes quickly scan over the words.

‘New Hire: Satoru Gojo’

‘Welcome to the school!’

‘high school teacher’

‘starting next Monday’

“Satoru…are you…are you going to be a teacher?” you ask quizzically.

“Mhm,” he hums excitedly, now kneeling next to you on the bed.

“I’m happy for you babe, but why?”

“Because…” he trails off, “if I have a job, then…then we don’t need my parent’s money.”

The realization sets in as your eyes meet his.

You open your mouth to speak, but before you can, he continues.

"You’re my everything, and every day I’ve gotten to spend with you has been better than the last. I want to keep loving you, keep being with you, everyday for the rest of our lives. You and I both know that’s not possible with the threat of my family looming over us, so I…I did this.”

His eyes scan your face, desperate to see your response, his heart beating so fast it feels like it might burst out of his chest.

Without you even realizing it, he had wiped the skies clean of the cloud that had been shrouding you for the past year. The threat of his family was like an invisible weight on you, always there, wherever you went. A part of you knew he had to go back, had to return to the evil that tried to ruin him, to make him just like them. But now, he doesn’t - he doesn’t owe them anything, he doesn’t have to be anything or do anything - he just has to be yours.

When you smile up at him, he swears he feels the warmth of the sun.

“I love you,” you murmur, reaching your arms up around his neck before pulling him into a kiss.

“I love you too,” he whispers, “forever.”

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alltheirdamn · 11 hours

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Killing Me Softly | (Joel x teacher!f!reader)

Chap. 5 Nevermore

Chp. 5 Summary: It's hard to understand why everything feels so right. Rating: 18+ Explicit MDNI Word Count: 5.5k Warnings: Pre-outbreak AU, language, heavy kissing, unprotected piv sex, semi-rough sex, creampie, praise kink, (kinda) size kink, aftercare, fluff and a LOT of angst, light banter, lots of emotions, mentions of past trauma, brief flashback of trauma, another cliffhanger (sorry) A/N: Well, if you're here, I hope you're prepared for what's coming. A HUGE shoutout to @loonmartell for helping co-conspire the trajectory of this story. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it as always <3

Masterlist | Ko-fi

I think he’s already falling in love with you. I think he’s already falling in love with you. I think he’s already falling in love with you. I think he’s already falling in—

“Miss Smith?”

Your head jerked up at the sound, and the pencil you were drawing circles with fell against your desk. Bradley, one of your students, was standing at the edge of your desk with his test in hand.

“Sorry about that, sweetie,” you smiled, extending a hand. “Thank you.”

Bradley eyed you curiously before turning and skipping back to his desk. You dragged a hand over your face, wanting to crawl into the furthest corner of the world and never be seen again. Beth’s words had been plaguing you for days since you called her. Over and over again, they annihilated your thoughts, a constant broken record that you couldn’t shut off. You still had your nightly calls with Joel, talking past midnight and falling asleep together, but you kept making excuses not to see him.

“I’ve got lesson plans to make,” you lied.

“I’ll help,” Joel had offered.

“You’re a distraction.”

“I ain’t that bad,” he huffed.

The next night, you lied and said you were going out with Maria, which was an even worse lie since you were avoiding her at all costs. Telling Beth the news was one thing, but telling Maria was another matter. She was nosey and a bit too loud-mouthed to trust. The last thing you wanted was for the entire faculty to know your dirty secrets. Joel had to remain a secret—at least for now.

It’s not like you wanted to avoid Joel; you were just scared. You were not ready for this new territory, and if Beth was anywhere near correct in her assumptions, it only made you want to shy away more. The only problem was parent-teacher conferences this week, meaning you’d have to see Joel and Sarah…together.

The class bell rang, and your free period between classes began. You dropped your head on the desk and took a few deep breaths, trying to wrangle some semblance of calm back into your body. The final class of the day would be Sarah’s, and you’d be lying if you said you were prepared to see her. The blaring reminder that her dad had fucked you sore over the weekend still hung over your head, and you couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty for it. How was your fall break, Sarah? Oh yeah, mine was great. Your dad fucked me so hard I ended up having a complete breakdown.

Fuck.

You wanted the day to be over.

The free period went by much faster than you wanted, and as you watched the next slew of kids take their seats, you made a conscious effort not to stare at Sarah as she walked in. She wore her usual smile, the impression of her dimples digging into her cheeks. Some wild thought popped into your head that you had no time to recover from: if you and Joel went any further, God help you, you’d be Sarah’s step-mom one day. Your stomach rolled with nausea as you tried to will those thoughts away. Joel wouldn’t stick around that long; you were a lost cause. There was no chance that would happen. Right?

Clearing your throat, you rose from your desk and made your way over to the projector to set up the lesson for the day. Since the school year was nearing Halloween, you decided it would be fun to teach Edgar Allen Poe, completely forgetting you had chosen “The Raven”—which was about losing someone. This would have a bite to it that you weren’t ready for.

“Okay, everyone,” you announced. “Did we all finish the reading assignment this week?”

There were a few nods and murmurs of agreement, and you quickly shifted to the first few slides of your presentation.

“Alright, so who can tell me the overall theme for Poe’s ‘The Raven’?”

Georgia, one of your top students, shot her hand up without a beat.

“Yes, Georgia?”

“It’s about his grief for losing Lenore,” she answered.

“Good,” you smiled. Can anyone tell me what other theme the poem contains?”

“Madness!” Another student chimed in, causing an uproar of laughter amongst the students.

“Okay, okay, settle down. Very good, you guys.”

You switched to the next slide, staring blankly at the words typed out. Lenore is gone forever. Something struck you as you silently read it, realizing you weren’t too far off from Poe in his grief. Although Bennett wasn’t dead, he wasn’t coming back. That fact hadn’t hurt as deeply throughout the last few weeks, especially with Joel around, but it still threw salt in the open wounds still scattered over your heart.

“In stanza two,” you cleared your throat. “In stanza two, Poe refers to Lenore as ‘nameless,’ which can imply that she has died, and he’s now consumed with grief. Where else did you guys find his grief prominent?”

Georgia quickly raised her hand again, and you motioned for her to speak.

“In stanza four, he talks about his dreams, which I think he means he’s dreaming of her to return to him. But if she’s dead, there’s no way she’s going to come back,” Georgia said.

Fuck. You felt the sting of tears rim your eyes and briefly paused to gather your bearings. Bennett left. He left, and you had spent years dreaming he would return.

“Good,” you choked out.

You glanced around the room, your eyes connecting with Sarah’s. It took all your strength not to break down and cry as she studied you with the same concerned furrow in her brows as her dad would do.

Clicking to the next slide, you exhaled, focusing on the following theme to discuss. Madness.

“Now, with the theme of madness, where do we see this begin? Obviously, the dreams can be interpreted as his descent into madness, but what else do we find?” You asked.

To your detriment, Sarah was the one to raise her hand.

“Sarah,” you sighed, nodding.

“It’s the raven,” she said plainly. “The raven is what drives him mad.”

“What does he do to drive Poe mad?” You questioned.

“The raven only says one word,” she explained. “And that word drives him mad until the end of the poem.

“And why does it drive him mad?”

Sarah shifted in her seat, looking around at her classmates before responding.

“Because it’s the answer Poe doesn’t want to hear. Poe doesn’t want to be reminded that Lenore is dead, but that’s the only response the raven will give.”

You were swaying in place, trying to hold yourself together as the memories started ricocheting back into your mind. Now wasn’t the time to collapse, not in front of twenty students staring at you, confused and concerned. You only responded with a nod and flipped the projector off.

“Good job, you guys. Now, does anyone have any questions on this unit? Any questions about the stanza format or the themes?”

Sarah raised her hand again.

“Did his madness kill him?” She asked.

“Who?”

“Poe.”

“Oh, um, no. Well, it’s a mystery, really. Some people say he died of delirium, so, I guess, madness. But other people speculate he drank himself to death.”

The class grew morbidly quiet, which made it harder for you to continue. No one else spoke up after Sarah, so you resorted to handing out the quiz and sinking back into your desk chair.

One by one, the students came up to turn in their quiz, and you averted your gaze each time with a nonchalant ‘thank you.’ When the final bell finally sounded through the room, you hardly had the energy to wave goodbye.

Sarah was the last to leave, and that same concerned look lingered on her face as she shuffled out.

That night, you didn’t pick up the phone when Joel called. You stared as it rang repeatedly, watching the light fade from the screen when the ringing stopped. You buried your head under the covers and tried to sleep, but then the nightmares started.

You woke up to your alarm, hyperventilating and drenched in sweat. Squinting at the morning sun streaming through the blinds, you grabbed your phone to check the time. Your fingers froze as you read the screen.

Seven missed calls from Joel

Two voicemails from Joel

With shaky fingers, you pressed play on the first voicemail.

“Hey baby, it’s me. I just wanna make sure you’re okay. I’m hopin’ you’re just asleep, but if you’re up, please call me.”

Then you played the next.

“Baby, it’s me again. I miss you, and I’m worried ‘bout you. Please don’t shut me out, okay? I just wanna hear your voice and hear ‘bout your day. If you don’t wanna talk, that's okay. I understand. Just please lemme know you’re alright. I’ll drive my ass out to you if I need to just to make sure you’re okay. Call me when you get this. G’night, baby.”

You dug your knuckles into your eyes to try and force the tears back. Last night, you had the worst of the nightmares: the memory of something you tried to forget. You hadn’t touched that memory in so long. It was just the brutal realization you were truly at fault for everything with Bennett. No matter how badly you wanted to blame him, it was always your fault.

Glancing back at your phone, you rechecked the time: 7:35. Fuck, you were running late, and you really didn’t want to call Joel back right now. At least not right now. You’d muster the energy and strength to do it later, but you needed to gather yourself and get ready for work right now. Tossing off the sweat-slick sheets, you rushed into the bathroom and quickly showered. You couldn’t bother to put makeup on, so you opted to go without it and found a simple dress to wear. It was still in the high eighties in Austin, and a dress was the easiest option for the day.

Scrambling for your purse and keys, you ran to the garage to start your car and head to the school.

It wasn’t until you pulled into your parking spot that you realized you left your phone on the nightstand.

“Okay, what’s going on?” Maria questioned, sipping her lukewarm coffee.

She had nagged you into spending your free period in her classroom, demanding that you tell her everything that you had been withholding. You sat on the edge of her desk, your dress flowing over your knees as you stared out her class windows.

“Nothing, Maria,” you lied.

She said your name sternly, forcing your eyes to snap to hers. Her usual chipper demeanor was replaced with that ‘mother’ look, her lips pursed and eyes narrowed.

“Something is going on,” she pressed. “Could have something to do with Mr. Miller?”

“Maybe,” you mumbled, fidgeting with the hem of your dress.

“You did it, huh?” She raised a brow.

You exhaled heavily, nodding your head—no point in lying now.

“We talked on the phone the entire break, and when I got home, he insisted on taking me on a date. Then one thing led to another… and yeah, we had sex.”

Maria squealed, clapping her hands and grinning wide. You stared at her blankly, unamused by her reaction to your words.

“This isn’t a good thing, Maria,” you said pointedly.

“Why wouldn’t it be? You’re finally putting yourself out there! Oh my god, was it good?”

“It was,” you sighed. “It was good—really good. He’s so sweet and caring.”

“I feel like there’s a ‘but’ in there somewhere,” she interjected.

“But I can’t let it go any further,” you finished.

Maria leaned forward and placed her hand on your knee.

“Does he make you happy?” She asked softly.

“So fucking happy, Maria. I hate it.”

“You deserve to be happy, sweetie. That’s all I’ve been saying for years, and now you have it! Don’t force it to fail before it even begins. I saw the way he looked at you at the father-daughter dance. You can’t fake that.”

“I know. I know. I just—ugh,” you slid off the desk with a groan. “He’s too good for me. I’m still trying to get over Bennett and everything that happened. He doesn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of all my misery. That’s not fair to him.”

You were pacing around the room, your eyes darting between the science posters hanging along the walls of Maria’s classroom. You heard her desk chair scrape against the floor as she approached you. She gripped you by the shoulders and leveled you with a heavy stare, but her eyes remained soft.

“He’s still around, right? I don’t think he’s going anywhere, sweetie. If anything, I think he’s in it for the long haul.”

You didn’t know how to respond, so you leaned into her, letting her wrap you up in a motherly embrace. She rubbed circles against your back, hushing you as you wept quietly.

The rest of the day passed by in a numbing blur. You packed your things quietly and headed to your car, ready to drown yourself in a glass of wine.

Joel’s truck was parked in front of your house as you turned the corner onto your street. His tall figure was leaning against the driver’s door; his eyes focused on your car as you pulled into the driveway. You inhaled sharply before putting your car in park, mentally preparing yourself for whatever anger he might unleash.

You barely shut the car door before Joel had his arms around you, tugging you into a warm embrace. You couldn’t make sense of it; why wasn’t he mad? He should be angry at you.

“Joel?” you whispered, your fingers twisting into his shirt. He smelt of cedarwood and smoke, the lingering scent of the workday still on his clothes.

“I was so fuckin’ worried ‘bout you,” he muttered into your hair. “Been tryin’ to get ahold of you all day.”

“I left my phone at home this morning,” you explained. “I listened to your voicemails from last night. I’m sorry I didn’t call back. I was just running late this morning.”

“Why didn’t you pick up last night?’ He asked, pulling away.

“I needed some space. I’m just trying to figure this all out. I want you—I want this. I just don’t know how to be fully vulnerable. I know that’s silly to say since I’ve cried every time I’ve seen you.” You laughed at the thought of it.

“You coulda just told me that, baby. I would’ve understood,” Joel sighed.

“You’re not mad at me?”

“Of course not,” he smiled softly. “Had me worryin’ like crazy, but I ain’t mad. I know this is all new, and you’re scared. Just don’t shut me out, ‘kay? I wanna talk to you and understand what’s goin’ on with you. I told you I wanna work on it with you.”

“I’m s—.”

Joel was pressing his lips against yours before you could say those two words. The kiss was all-consuming and tender, strong enough to erase every thought in your mind. Your mouths moved in unison, tongues intertwined and exploring. It was dizzying to be kissed this fervently; the first kiss couldn’t hold a torch to this moment. You tangled your fingers into the curls at the base of his neck, slanting your lips to open yourself even more to him. Joel’s hands twisted into the fabric of your dress that hugged your hips and pulled you tighter against his body. You whimpered at the feeling of his cock straining in his jeans, and he hauled you upwards until you were wrapping your legs around his waist.

Spinning you around, he pinned you to the metal of your car door, breaking away from your mouth to kiss down your neck. Was it possible to be branded by a dozen kisses? He left a trail of sweltering kisses over every exposed part of your upper body, and all you could do was pant and moan helplessly. To hell with the neighborhood and their lingering eyes; the world around you could collapse, and you’d still be clinging to his body.

“I told you I didn’t wanna hear those apologies,” Joel muttered against the hollow of your neck.

“What are you gonna do about it, Joel?” You moaned, his teeth grazing your collarbone.

“All I want right now is to hear you screamin’ my name, so you better invite me inside before I fuck you right here.”

“Jesus Christ,” you whispered.

“Wrong name, baby.”

With one strong arm braced around your back and a firm hand on your ass, Joel carried you out of the driveway and through the open garage. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses against the bare patches in his beard. Joel stumbled into the living room and sat you on the edge of the couch. You clung to him, refusing to lay back, too afraid to disconnect from his body. There was something so addicting, so right about being in his arms—almost familiar.

“Y’look so beautiful in this dress, baby,” Joel breathed. “Turn around.”

You unattached yourself from him, spinning until your thighs pushed against the leather of the couch. Joel’s hands roamed over your calves, dragging your dress up until it piled against your lower back. You gasped as his fingers tore apart your underwear, the scraps falling down your legs and piling at your feet. It was embarrassing how wet you were already, your slick coating your inner thighs.

“Joel,” you whined as he swiped a finger through your wet folds.

“Use your words,” he hummed, slowly pushing in two fingers.

“I need you, Joel.” He curled his fingers against the spot that left you breathless, coaxing you to speak more. “Need it rough—please.”

You needed to feel how bad he needed you; you needed to show him you wanted him, even if it meant doing it without saying it aloud.

“Y’want it rough, baby? I can do that. If it’s too much, you tell me, okay?”

“Okay,” you exhaled.

Joel pulled his fingers from you, bringing them to your mouth and smearing your arousal over your parted lips. You hummed as you tasted yourself, pushing your ass back into him. You heard the clang of his belt and the soft sound of his jeans hitting the floor before he swiped his cock across your slick entrance.

“Don’t be gentle,” you moaned.

“Anythin’ you want, baby.”

That was all he said before splitting you open, the fullness of his cock inside you robbing you of all the breath in your lungs. Joel kept his hips flush with yours, his fingertips drifting down the fabric of your dress covering your spine.

“Joel,” you whined.

You shifted yourself onto the tips of your toes, nudging yourself back until the tip of his cock rubbed against the right spot inside you. You mewled at the sensation, wiggling your hips to find some sort of relief from the pleasure churning inside your stomach.

“Impatient, baby?” Joel teased.

He moved against you slowly, letting you adjust to his size. You had been in such a haze last time you hadn’t realized how big he actually was, but now you felt every glorious inch of him inside you. You let out another frustrated whimper, and Joel responded with an onslaught of forceful thrusts. Your body shoved further into the couch, your midsection rubbing against the edge every time Joel snapped his hips against yours.

Joel’s hand snaked around your neck, drawing you back into his chest, the angle of his cock spearing deeper inside you. Your wails turned to sobs as you listened to Joel grunting harder behind you, his fingers squeezing rhythmically around your throat.

“That’s it, baby,” Joel crooned. “That’s it. Doin’ so well for me.”

You gasped for air as the desire coiling within your core became agonizing and all-consuming. Your fingers wrapped around his hand holding you up, clawing at his skin as his thrusts became erratic and determined. You were teetering on the edge of euphoria, your body buzzing with pleasure.

“Touch yourself, baby,” Joel whispered into your ear.

You fought against your dress to find your clit, the instant connection of your fingers causing you to cry out. Joel’s mouth ravaged your neck, sucking marks into the skin as you drew tantalizing circles over the sensitive bud. It was right there— that explosive pleasure bubbling under the surface.

“Don’t stop,” you begged, your voice strained under his grip. “Don’t—right there. Right there, Joel!”

Joel quickened the pace, your eyes blurring as your orgasm raced through your veins and set your nerves ablaze. Your sex clenched around his cock, forcing him to slow his thrusts as he groaned into your ear.

“S’fuckin’ good, baby,” he punched out, releasing your neck.

“More,” you heaved.

“Think y’can take it?” He asked, pinning you down onto the couch cushions.

“Just want you, Joel,” you said. Your words were muffled into the couch as you exhaled, “Want everything with you.”

You didn’t know if Joel heard you, and you prayed he didn’t. Your brain was lost in some euphoric haze, dizzying you and your ability to control your emotions. Joel knew every part of your body, like the back of his hand. He knew exactly what you needed and what you wanted, and it was so confusing.

But all your thoughts grew quiet as the lewd sounds of your arousal and his ragged breathing echoed around the house. Joel’s hand pressed into your hair as he pushed you further into the couch. Bent over this way, you were entirely at his mercy, putty in his hands, and helpless.

“Swear y’were fuckin’ made for me, baby,” Joel grunted. “You’re mine, baby. Mine.”

“Yours,” you cried. “I’m—.”

You couldn’t finish your sentence as Joel seized up, choking out your name as he spilled into you. His body slumped over yours, the weight of his chest heavy against your back. The hammering of his heart matched yours as you both recovered in silence, the house growing quiet aside from your labored breathing.

“Too rough?” Joel muttered into your hair.

You shifted your face to the side, rewarded by his lips pressing into your cheek.

“Perfect,” you sighed. “It was perfect.”

“You weren’t lyin’ when you said you weren’t a fan of vanilla, huh?” Joel chuckled, pulling out of you.

You slumped further into the couch, laughing softly.

“I was talking about cake, Joel. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Sure you were, baby. Stay right there, okay?”

You heard his footsteps disappear toward your bedroom, the distant sound of water turning on and off floating down the hallway. A second later, Joel was behind you again, the cool touch of a towel making you jerk away in shock. He gently rubbed the cloth over your inner thighs, taking extra caution of your sore entrance. You’d feel him everywhere tomorrow, and you didn’t hate that for some reason—you wanted the reminder of him.

“C’mere,” Joel urged, helping you stand.

He pulled you over to the couch, curling you into his arms and bracing you against his chest. Joel intertwined his fingers with yours, his breathing evening out as you shimmed further into his embrace. Maybe it was the sex, maybe it was just being around him, but all your doubts and worries seemed to fade away. It was just this moment; you and him with limbs entangled together.

“Tell me somethin’ no one knows about you,” Joel whispered.

“Only if you tell me something in return.”

“Of course, baby.”

You paused, considering all the possibilities of what you could share. You had forgotten pieces of yourself over the years, the layers of heartbreak and trauma suffocating the person you once were. You still weren’t sure if that girl you had once been was still inside you.

“I hate pancakes,” you said.

Joel laughed, his body shaking behind you as you buried your head into the couch.

“Pancakes? Really?” He teased.

“I just don’t like them!” You defended.

“Y’gonna tell me why?”

“I don’t know,” you grumbled. “They’re just too sweet.”

“So y’don’t like sugar in your coffee, and y’think pancakes are too sweet,” Joel mused. “What do you like?”

“Don’t tease me, Joel.”

His fingers prodded your sides, forcing you to shriek at the contact. You hated to be tickled and hated it even more when he kept you pinned to your chest with nowhere to go. You rolled toward him, squirming against his touch. Joel leaned in to kiss you softly, muffling your protests as you settled into his arms.

“Your turn,” you sighed.

“Hmm, well, I like pancakes.”

“Be serious, Joel,” you frowned.

“Okay, okay. I love watchin’ cartoons.”

You giggled, watching that grin stretch across his face.

“Been watchin’ them with Sarah since she was a kid,” he chuckled. “I still do sometimes, even if she ain’t home.”

“That’s cute,” you smiled.

You brought your fingers to his face, scratching at the stubble covering his chin and jaw. Joel’s eyes shut as your touch drifted over the patchy spots, your fingertips drawing circles in the places his beard disconnected.

“Tell me somethin’ else,” he said.

“I think you’re really handsome.”

It was a quick response—almost too fast—but you couldn’t swallow back the words. You glanced up at him, peeking through your lashes to see his brown eyes soften.

“Handsome, huh?”

“Well, I can’t call you cute,” you scrunched your nose. “It doesn’t fit you. I like handsome more.”

“I like it,” he smiled. “Call me handsome all y’want.”

You dragged him to your mouth, saying everything you couldn’t form into words. Joel moved with you, his head tilting and mouth molding to yours. He made everything feel so simple; maybe that’s what scared you. It was too easy with him—falling into this idyllic routine. Joel mumbled your name, pulling himself reluctantly from your lips. You chased one more kiss and settled back into his chest.

“Did you know it’s good luck when it rains on your wedding day?” You thought out loud.

Joel tensed up, his arms flexing around you.

“Superstition says it means your marriage will last,” you continued. “I’ve always thought it was funny, you know? I used to believe in that before my wedding, but after that, I figured everyone had lied to me.”

“Baby,” Joel whispered.

“No, it’s okay. There’s a point to this, I promise.”

“Tell me,” he urged softly.

“I think the rain was good luck. Maybe not in the way people think, but I don’t think Bennett and I were meant to get married. My sister hated me for going through with it. We didn’t really talk once Bennett and I got engaged. Everyone warned me about him; they told me he wasn’t who I should be with. I was so stubborn to make things work. He—he was there for me during a really awful time in my life. I thought I owed it to him to stay.

“But then here you are, and it makes me re-think everything. The rain? It’s still good luck, just in a different way. I wasn’t meant to be with him because maybe… maybe I was meant to be with you.”

Joel was painfully quiet, his eyebrows furrowing together as he closed his eyes. Oh, fuck. You had rambled out everything you were scared to say, and now it was biting you in the ass. This was why you were too afraid to acknowledge your feelings: the rejection. Joel didn’t see it the same way; he didn’t think of you in the same way, and you just made a complete idiot of yourself.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you muttered, trying to pry yourself out of his grip. You kept the tears at bay, trying not to let yourself succumb to the heartbreak shattering inside you.

Joel’s hands wrangled you back to his chest, his eyes leveling with yours. You inhaled sharply as his fingers brushed away the rogue tears falling down your cheeks.

“There ain’t a doubt in my mind y’were meant for me, baby. I’m thankin’ God every day for bringin’ you into my life,” Joel confessed. “I know this is all new, but I promise to keep provin’ myself because whatever this is between us, it’s real.”

“It’s real,” you echoed.

“Don’t run away from me,” Joel pleaded. “Gimmie all the good and bad stuff. I swear I can handle it.”

“What if you get tired of me? What if I’m not enough?” You rambled.

“I could never get tired of you, baby. If anythin’, I keep wantin’ more.”

You snuggled further into his embrace, inhaling his scent as you pressed your nose into his chest. Joel ran a hand through your hair, his fingers catching on a few knots left from earlier.

“What’d you mean when you said he was there for you durin’ somethin’ awful?” Joel asked after a beat of silence.

Flashes of the crash came back into your mind, or at least the ones you could recall. You squeezed your eyes shut as your nightmares began to see the light of day. It was a memory you never liked to revisit.

“Easy,” your mom whispered. “Easy, honey. Don’t move too much, okay? Take it slow.”

Your eyes fluttered open, the harsh lights above you burning into your retinas as you tried to adjust to the room fading into the forefront. You were tucked into a hospital bed, IVs and tubes sticking out of both arms. Your head was pounding, and everything hurt. That’s all you could focus on. Everything hurt so fucking bad.

“Bennett?” You croaked, searching the room.

Your mom, dad, Beth, and Stella were all grouped around the foot of the bed, their eyes glassy with tears. Bennett was nowhere to be found. Beth’s fear-stricken eyes shifted from your mom to your dad before she bolted from the room.

“I’m going to go get the doctor,” your mom announced, turning and leaving the room.

Stella shifted uncomfortably and promptly followed, leaving your dad alone at the foot of your bed.

“How’re you feeling, peanut?” He asked, rounding to the side of your bed.

“Pain,” you cried softly.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he assured. “It’s all gonna be okay.”

“Baby?” Joel said cautiously.

“S–sorry,” you mumbled. “I don’t know if I really want to talk about it.”

Joel’s brows scrunched together, his eyes staring at you with concern. You turned away from him, lifting yourself from the couch. Pacing the living room, you stared blankly at your bookshelf beside your entertainment center, still collecting dust after two years. You heard Joel shift against the couch behind you and glanced back to see him staring at you intensely. Anxiety was thrumming in your chest the longer you stood in front of him, too many thoughts reeling inside your mind. You never talked about the accident; you didn’t want to be reminded of what had been the catalyst in your relationship's failure. Because that’s what it was. You owed everything to Bennett for sticking by your side through it all, and in the end, you weren’t enough. Nothing you did was enough to salvage what had been your life with him before it all.

“Hey,” Joel exhaled. “C’mere.”

“I—I need a minute,” you cried.

You bolted from the living room and went down the hall, gasping for air when you reached the edge of your bed. The room was spinning as you dropped your head in your hands, the nausea surging up inside you the longer you stayed stuck in the memory. You needed out of it; you needed out. You needed—.

Joel rushed into the room, falling to his knees in front of you as he said your name over and over to coax you out of the trance. Nothing was working. Your head was throbbing in pain, and you couldn’t work around it.

“Breathe with me, baby,” Joel whispered. “Breathe.”

You heaved in a lung full of air, only to choke on it and gag back the nausea crawling up your throat. Joel rubbed his hands over your thighs, the sensation of his touch jarring you enough to make you cringe.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he crooned, a distant echo of your dad's words. “It’s okay.”

The shrilling sound of your phone ringing pulled you both from the moment, and you crawled over the bed to grab it.

Beth

“Fuck,” you groaned. “I can’t—I can’t answer it.”

“Give it to me, I’ll do it,” Joel offered with an outstretched hand.

You practically tossed it at him while you crumpled into the sheets with your hands clutching your head.

“Hello?” He answered with a brief pause before he said, “This is Joel.”

Silence.

“Fuck, okay. Gimmie a second,” he replied.

“Baby, she needs to talk to you,” Joel said.

You stifled your cries before taking your phone from his hand, already hearing Beth’s frantic voice on the other end of the receiver.

“Beth, what is it?” You asked, your body shaking.

“It’s dad, sis. You’ve got to come home, okay?”

#joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel x teacher #joel x f!reader #joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miler tlou #tlou #pre outbreak!joel #the last of us fanfiction #fluff and angst #so much angst

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Ranch Story Community Q&A Volume 3: Igusa Matsuyama Returns!

Igusa Matsuyama, the legendary artist behind the Story of Seasons series since the original 1996 game has once again agreed to a Q&A featuring questions from fans from around the world! A big thank you to all the members of the community who helped make this possible.

Some aspects of the text have been altered to match localization people are familiar with. (Japanese names to English names, for example: Bokujou Monogatari (牧場物語) was formerly localized as Harvest Moon and is now localized as Story of Seasons, etc). Images were not part of the original text and have been added as a visual aid. Though we translated as many questions as we could, we did not include questions involving personal information or regarding unannounced releases. Please understand.

If you would like to read our original correspondence (in Japanese), that will be provided in a separate post.

Additional cosplay photo provided by Foxface from our community Discord.

Translations: @artycharmy (correspondence, outline) Editing and Clean-up: Jerome, @artycharmy, and @regularcelery

——— Anonymous asks: What is the relationship between Jamie and the Harvest Goddess?

Igusa Matsuyama: Jamie was treated as a fairy or spirit. I'm sorry, but I'm not sure if there's any points that link them and the Goddess.

Editor's note: the term Matsuyama uses is "妖精."

Tomato asks: I would like to ask about what their inspiration was for the outfits designs in the original release of harvest moon another wonderful life. Since I got reminded of the girl clothing brand Mezzo Piano when looking at the I love Kuma/I love bears outfit.

Igusa Matsuyama: I remember the only thing I thought of was using Spring-like colours! (All designs were made with seasonal colours In mind) When I knew that Daachan, who was planned to be used in a lot of events, wouldn't actually play a big role in the game, I put him on the T-Shirt so he could at least get some attention as a mascot-like existence.

Pansy asks: If you were able to create your own game for the Story of Seasons franchise, with no rules or limitations whatsoever, what do you think it might look like?

Igusa Mastuyama: Since I love dogs, I'd like to try making a Story of Seasons that's set in a world just full of dogs. Though that dream of mine probably won't come true.

Anonymous asks: The look of Story of Seasons has changed a lot over the years! What would you say is more challenging to create - simple designs, where you have to work with very little space, or complicated designs, where you have to consider many little details?

Igusa Matsuyama: A long time ago there were a lot of things you weren't able to replicate in video games. There were constraints for things like the number of colours and patterns for hair styles and clothes. It was difficult to work around those constraints, but at the same time a lot of fun. Nowadays, it's the complete opposite. Now we can design anything with hardly any constraints. And unlike a long time ago, now I'm asked to make more complicated designs, like patterns and decorations. However, if it's a big request, sometimes I run into quite a lot of trouble when designing. They each have had their own difficulties.

Anonymous asks: Hello, Matsuyama! Thank you for bringing the worlds of Bokujou Monogatari to life for many years. Your art has had a huge influence on me!

One of my favorite candidates is “Rock” from “A Wonderful Life.” I’d love to know any particular influences for his character design from 21 years ago, and his new design for the remake.

Igusa Matsuyama: I was told that he was a young, wannabe playboy, so I somehow ended up with that sort of design. For the remake, I made his clothes a little looser without changing his design, so he'd look even more playful. I, too, wanted to avoid changing him as much as I could as there are other people among the staff that also like the original for his “Rockness”. So, he got that makeover after everybody shared and checked their opinions with each other.

Jerome asks: On page 130 of the "Special Comic" manga there's artwork of Super Famicom characters that have never been printed anywhere else. Do you or Marvelous still have these? It would be great to see them in more detail in the future some time.

Igusa Matsuyama: They're all characters that appeared in the SNES version of "Harvest Moon." Nina's parents, Ellen's mother, Ann's father, Maria's parents (The mayor couple). I'm sorry. My SNES illustrations have gone missing...

Raven Bloom, Ryan, and Moth ask: How did you feel when your designs for the men in A Wonderful Life were repurposed to be bachelors? What do you think of the changes made to the bachelors in the remake of A Wonderful Life? I miss the “Bruce Campbell” look Matthew used to have.

Igusa Matsuyama: Matthew (マシュー) is Masshu (マッシュ) in the Japanese A Wonderful Life (Editors note: Charmy made a careless mistake when translating the questions, sorry Matsuyama san 🫣) When I first heard this name, the first thing that came to mind was Evil Dead's protagonist, Ash. You're right. I designed him after Bruce Campbell. I still love Bruce Campbell today. When Wonderful Life was under production, I had heard they weren't going to make a girl version, so I designed him not as a love interest, but as a quirky character. Knowing that he'd appear in the remake as a marriage candidate, I redesigned him as a character that would be liked by many. I hope you can enjoy the game for its nostalgia, as well as for being a shiny, brand new release.

Salmon Axe and Anonymous ask: I personally adore Doraemon x SOS game. Are you interested in working directly with or collaborating with other franchises in the future? And is there a series outside Story of Seasons you would like to work with now as a guest artist? (Could it be Pokemon?)

Igusa Matsuyama: I've loved Doraemon manga since I was a kid! Working as a guest artist? Hmm, I'm happier being the main illustrator, so nothing in particular comes to mind. I enjoy a lot of games in my free time, such as Fallout, Far Cry and Border Lands.

Anonymous asks: Even though we never see his face, was there ever a concept of how Woofio would look without his costume?

Igusa Matsuyama: I designed Woofio as the being that is Woofio, so there's no design of him without his costume.

Idris asks: Your style has upgraded a lot over the time to match the trends. Do you think you will ever go for an old school look (early HM) for a SoS game again? What do you think is the secret to your art’s charm?

Igusa Matsuyama: What I'm particular about when designing for Story of Seasons is making characters with head/body proportions and an atmosphere that go well with that release. First, I listen to the client's request then think of a design according to that. These days, game visuals have gotten fancier and fancier, so there's not many opportunities for characters with short proportions to make an appearance. To me, what's important when designing is "playfulness." More so than "pretty" or "cool" and such, I get attached to the character, have fun making the character. I find joy in character creation itself.

MacGyver asks: Yasuhiro Wada has shared some interesting stories about how chaotic the original game's development was. Is there anything interesting you remember from around that time?

Igusa Matsuyama: Now it's a memory I can look back on and laugh about, but I'm not sure how much I can talk about it so please forgive me. If Wada hadn't been there back then, then "Harvest Moon" wouldn't have become a thing.

Toyberb and Anonymous ask: There’s a lot of different cow designs now, which is your favorite to draw?

Igusa Matsuyama: I've loved drawing animals since I was a kid, so I love all of the cows. Although the easiest one to draw is the cow with the big nose.

Anonymous asks: Were there any games where you made designs for protagonists of genders that did not end up available to play as? (Like a girl protagonist for Save the Homeland/Hero of Leaf Valley or a nonbinary protagonist for any game before A Wonderful Life)

Igusa Matsuyama: There's so many designs that got scrapped, but as far as I recall, there's not really many where that character's setting itself was scrapped. (Excluding Thumbelina, mentioned below)

Koharu asks: Were there ever any character designs made for other older SNES characters like Ellen for 64? Some magazines had Marie with blue hair, like the SNES character, so it made me wonder if she (SNES Maria) was meant to also be there at some point.

Igusa Matsuyama: I'm not in the position to make settings or scenarios where characters from other games appear, so I can't say, but I like the idea of older characters making an appearance!

Amina/k0iisu asks: Hello! I really love Hiro’s design specifically. Could you tell me a few facts about him/his design that might not be well known information? Thank you so much! I love your art :D

Igusa Matsuyama: Thank you very much! Hiro is a future doctor, so I tried to make them look as much like a doctor as I could. Also, to make him look friendlier, I designed him as your average everyday boy you'd see in the neighbourhood. He doesn't have a flashy face or hairstyle, but he's one of my favourite designs, too. I wrote this in the guidebook too, but what I like about him is the Asian flair I added to his clothes and the spot of colour around his feet.

Bunbun asks: I'm excited for the Nendoroid that was announced of Claire! I hope there will be ones of HM64 designs too. Since you have a lot of figures on your blog, how does it feel to be able to add one of your own characters to your collection? Are there any of your other characters you hope will get figures of?

Igusa Matsuyama: A nendoroid of Claire! I'm looking forward to it too, but when is it going to be released? If it's possible, I'd like one of Woofio.

Editor's note: Preorders are open for Nendoroid Claire now!

Chickee asks: A purple-haired princess character was rumored to have existed in Harvest Moon 64, but she didn't make it to the published game. Did you create a design for this character?

Igusa Matsuyama: That's probably Princess Thumbelina. Wasn't she Incredibly small? What I designed didn't end up being used. Speaking of HM64 characters, I pushed for them to include a pet turtle, but in the end it only appeared as an ornament. For A Wonderful Life, I asked for a turtle to be included again and designed a tortoise with a scarf, but it didn't make it as a pet and appeared only as a wild turtle that walks around the pond. I'm waiting for the day they finally include a pet turtle in the game.

emery flower147 asks: omg I saw the pics where the AWL girls are in a team and Muffy has a shotgun and stuff? Do you think any other characters would work in a cool team like that?

Igusa Matsuyama: For the Friends of Mineral Town guide book, I had the five girls, Popuri, Marie, Ran, Elly and Karen work hard as Harvest Sprites. Also, for the guide books, I drew Pete (The old male protagonist), Sarah (The GB version female protagonist), and Claire doing whatever I wanted them to. I don't know if you can call it cool or not, but it was fun being in charge of that.

Ixur asks: A lot of the PoOT character designs for the regular villagers seem more popular than the marriage candidates in my region. Is that something that's been noticed by you/Marvelous in Japan? Lars, Clemens, Beth, and Misaki for example.

Igusa Matsuyama: Marvelous doesn't really talk about that sort of thing so I'm not sure if they're aware of it or not. I don't do social media so I'm also not sure which characters are popular. I'm happy as long as the characters are liked. The design on Lars’s shirt is modeled after my beloved dog, so I’d be especially happy if you like his shirt too.

Anonymous asks: What do you think about people cosplaying your designs?

Igusa Matsuyama: It makes me very happy! I'm no good at sewing, so I really admire people who can make their own clothes. It's an honour having the designs I made be made into real clothes, and I think it's great to have fun acting out the characters.

Afro Fae asks: When creating designs for characters, how do you settle on a specific color palette? Do you take color meanings into account with a character's personality or do you go purely off of feeling?

Igusa Matsuyama: I keep in mind the overall colours the client asked for while designing. Sometimes I propose a new colour when I think there's one that fits better. I'm also careful when choosing colours and everyone's traits to make sure it's easy to tell which character is which when seen from a distance. However, in the cases of families and such, I do the opposite and give them all a common colour to give them a sense of kinship.

———

From all of us at Ranch Story, we'd like to thank Matsuyama from the bottom of our hearts for answering our questions again! Whether a fan has only just discovered the series or has grown up alongside it, so many people have loved these characters and worlds that Igusa Matsuyama brings to life, so it feels truly special to be able to have this opportunity. We'll end this article with Matsuyama's own words, as well as a parting gift.

Igusa Matsuyama: I'm so glad I could answer your questions again. I'm the one that should be saying thank you. It means the world to me knowing that everyone enjoys my illustrations! I added an illustration as thanks. I'll keep up the hard work!

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