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punkshort · 3 months

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somewhere to run | 10. austin

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: You and Joel travel to Austin to meet with a lawyer.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, hurt/comfort, flirting, sexual tension, emotional abuse, infidelity, some recapping of DV and SA situations but nothing new, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected (reader previously mentions she's on bc) piv sex

WC: 6.6K

A/N: I have started a notification blog - @punkshort-notifs if you are interested in following for fic updates (but I will be keeping the tag list for this series until it is over)

Series Masterlist

One Month Later

Life carried on the way it always does. Without permission, regardless of any pain or suffering, it always remained a constant. Whether you were present or not, whether you wanted to acknowledge it or hide from it, it didn't matter, because life always carried on.

The first week was the worst. A week of what you could only describe as depression. A week of being alone. Safe, but terribly alone. Going to work helped distract you, until he came in for lunch like always and it felt like your heart was being torn in two all over again. And you could tell it hurt him, too, but you both seemed willing to withstand the pain over not seeing each other at all. Because even though it hurt, it was a reminder you were alive. A reminder that you could still care enough about somebody else, despite everything.

The second week was when you could no longer smell him in your bed. You woke up one morning, eyes barely even open as you searched around the pillowcase, then the sheets, grabbing and pulling at the fabric, desperate to seek out his scent to no avail.

The third week was when you finally didn't have to fight the urge to call or text him, even though he said you could, you knew it would just make things harder. And he must have agreed because he didn't reach out, either.

The fourth week was when you began to feel like you were finally coming out of your slump. You could go to the grocery store or pharmacy and didn't feel your heart skip a beat, you didn't scan the parking lot for his truck in the hopes of running into him. You didn't stop thinking about him, but it just hurt less. That is, until you ran into Hailey coming back from work one evening.

She was out on the sidewalk, cleaning up some garbage from the picnic tables in front of the pizzeria when you waved and caught her eye. You could immediately tell something was wrong by the pained smile she gave you.

"Hey," she said, the smile not reaching her eyes as she leaned up against her broom.

"What's going on?" you asked her. "Haven't seen you in a while."

"Yeah, I know, sorry. Work's been-" she waved in the direction of the propped open door and shook her head. "But I've been meaning to talk to you."

"Oh?"

"It's about book club," she said, dropping her gaze to the ground. "And I just want to let you know, I voted against it-"

"They don't want me back, do they?" you offered, trying to make it easier for her. She sighed and shook her head.

"It's all so stupid, I'm sorry," she said, looking up at you again. "Nikki's got all those old ladies wrapped around her finger and they're just pissed Joel dumped her for... well, y'know."

"They know we aren't together, right? I mean, I'm married..." you trailed off, not wishing to go into too much detail when you knew eventually when you went to court, all your dirty laundry would be aired.

"Yeah, they do. Still, they blame you, and it's stupid, like I said. They should be mad at Joel, it's not like it's your fault, and I swear I tried explaining that-"

"It's okay," you said, holding up your hand and giving her a sad smile. "I appreciate it, but it's fine. I have a lot coming up, anyway. I won't find that much time to read."

"But we can still hang out! Do you wanna go get drinks this weekend? Or maybe see a movie?" Hailey asked, and you could tell she genuinely felt bad.

"Yeah, either of those sound great," you said. "I'll text you and we can figure something out."

You made a hasty exit and dragged yourself up the stairs to your apartment. Even though you probably wouldn't have continued to go, the rejection still stung.

For a while, the silence was deafening. Without a TV to even distract you, leaving you with endless amounts of time to overthink, you were worried you were going insane. You lucked out recently and found a decent TV at a thrift store, so you at least had something to occupy your time, although you knew it would be short lived. In a couple days, you had an appointment to meet with a law firm in Austin. An appointment Joel had set up and offered to attend with you, and at the time, you were so desperate for anything to do with him, you agreed, but now you were wondering if that was a bad idea. Almost two hours in the car alone with Joel? No, that didn't seem like a good idea at all.

"Whadd'ya mean, you wanna drive separate?" Joel asked as you refilled his coffee. "That doesn't make any sense. Waste of gas."

"Yeah, but I was thinking of staying an extra day. Check out the city," you lied, turning your back to him so he wouldn't be able to see through you.

"Alone?"

You cringed at the word, but nodded. The little dinner bell rang in the window and your eyes jumped up just in time to see Thor put Joel's sandwich on the small shelf. You grabbed the plate and set it down in front of him, his eyes still boring into you, waiting for a better explanation.

"I think it'll just be easier," you said quietly, the words only meant for his ears. When he connected the dots, he leaned back in his chair and nodded.

"Oh," he said, gaze drifting down to his food. "That's a shame. I was lookin' forward to it."

"I'm sorry," you told him, grabbing a rag and pretending to wipe down the counter so your conversation didn't invite gossip and speculation. "So was I. That's the problem."

"And if I promise to behave myself, would you reconsider?" he teased, finally making you smile a little.

"I think you're incapable of behaving yourself, Sheriff," you replied, making him chuckle.

This was what your relationship had been reduced to: quick, flirty exchanges over coffee and turkey clubs. You supposed it was better than nothing.

"C'mon, it's just a couple hours. If you want, you can nap or listen to music," he said, picking up his sandwich and taking a bite.

"Fine," you relented, but only because once you offered taking two cars out loud, you realized how stupid it sounded.

"Pick you up at 7?" he asked around a mouth full of food.

"Sure. Do I need to prepare anything? I've never gotten this far in the process before," you told him, suddenly feeling nervous.

"Nope. Helen already sent over all the reports and once the process gets started, they'll reach out to whatever hospital you went to back in Philly to get your emergency room medical reports," he explained, and you nodded along, feeling fidgety. "I'm sure they'll do some more digging while they're at it. Reach out to his police captain and all that."

"Right," you said, biting your nail.

"One step at a time, alright?" he told you softly, picking up on your nerves. "You already did your part, now let the lawyers do theirs."

"But I'll have to testify," you reminded him, and he slowly nodded.

"Most likely, yes. You don't have to, but it'll help your case if you do."

"And he'll be there?" you asked, wringing the towel between your hands.

"Yeah, he'll be there," Joel said, watching your face fall. "But I'll be there, too. You just look at me when the time comes, don't look at him."

"Okay," you said, taking a deep breath. You knew this would be hard, but you also knew it was necessary. "And this lawyer - they can help me get a divorce?"

"Yeah," he said with a nod, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

"Okay," you said again. You forced yourself to smile even though the anxiety was already creeping up. "I can do this," you told him, trying to sound confident.

"Hell yes, you can do this," he replied. "That's my girl," he added, picking up his sandwich then pausing before taking a bite. He glanced up at you and gave you half a smirk when he noticed the look on your face at the term of endearment. "Sorry, I'll behave."

You had initially dreaded waking up so early, but after the restless night's sleep you ended up having, it turned out it didn't make much of a difference. Your appointment was at 9:30 and it took about two hours to get to Austin, so Joel arriving at 7am gave you a decent cushion in case there was traffic.

Already two cups of coffee down, you poured the rest into a travel thermos and grabbed your purse before jogging lightly down your stairs. You locked your door and turned towards the street to find Joel's truck parked right out front. Glancing around, you noticed it was fairly quiet still, which was a relief. Joel didn't have to take you to see a lawyer. His job was technically done until the trial. He was doing this for you, to give you some support and advice and it would be ideal if you could keep people from gossiping about it for as long as possible.

"Mornin'," he greeted you with a lazy smile, which perked right up when you handed him the thermos. "Oh, you're an angel, baby," he murmured, taking a sip with an appreciative groan. You took a deep breath and forced yourself to focus on your seatbelt. Less than two minutes and he already had you squirming in your seat.

The first hour of the trip actually turned out to be relatively quiet. You sat in a comfortable silence, listening to the radio while Joel hummed along and tapped the steering wheel and if you closed your eyes, you could imagine the scene just a little differently. Instead of Joel taking you to see a lawyer in Austin so you could press charges and divorce your abusive husband, you imagined you were taking a road trip together. Maybe with no destination in mind: just the two of you and the open road, stopping whenever you saw fit to explore and staying at roadside motels with stiff sheets and shag carpets, limbs tangled together as you panted into each other's mouths. No secrets. No drama. You smiled to yourself, the fantasy giving you a pleasant reminder of what you could have if you just stayed strong.

"What're you smilin' for?" he asked, and your eyes opened to look at him.

"Nothing," you said, and he clicked his tongue against his teeth. God, you missed that tongue and what it could do.

"When all this is over, do you think we can take a road trip together?" you asked him, and his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Yeah, 'course we can," he replied, glancing over at you briefly before looking back at the road. "Where did you wanna go?"

"Doesn't matter," you said, rolling the back of your head against the seat. "Just wanna be with you," you added, softer this time. He looked over at you again, examining your face quickly before focusing back on the road.

"Me too, baby," he said, just as softly.

Joel stopped at a gas station just outside the city to fuel up and stretch your legs. After using the restroom, you wandered up and down the aisles while Joel pumped gas just outside. You were the only one in the store, aside from the sleazy cashier with greasy hair and nicotine stained teeth leering at you every time you crossed his field of vision.

You decided on a couple waters and some sugary pastries and made your way up to the front, forcing a polite smile for the cashier, whose eyes were greedily raking up and down your frame as you approached. You were wearing a modest dress with a cardigan, doing your best to look put together for your appointment, but that didn't stop the cashier's eyes from roaming.

"That all?" he asked as he began to ring you up. You nodded and hummed before glancing out the window, watching as Joel replaced the nozzle on the pump.

"$8.32," he told you, his eyes dropping to your chest as you pulled out a ten dollar bill from your wallet and handed it to him. Your fingertips tapped impatiently on the counter as he slowly counted out your change, clearly trying to prolong the interaction longer than necessary. When it appeared he was ready to hand over the money, you held your hand out, but he pulled your change back a bit and leaned forward.

"You from 'round here?"

"No, just passing through," you said, lifting your hand again, but he clenched your change in his fist.

"What's a pretty girl like you doin' out here all by yourself?" he sneered, his hand dropping below the counter to not so subtly adjust himself in his pants. You made a disgusted face and he smirked.

"She ain't alone," Joel's deep voice rang out from behind you. The cashier's eyes drifted over your shoulder and looked like he was about to make a snide comment when you felt Joel's hand around your waist. His eyes fell to Joel's belt and saw the badge and gun and the smirk he was sporting a moment ago vanished. He quickly handed you back your change and busied himself with organizing the cigarettes while Joel tugged on your waist, urging you to back towards the parking lot.

"And you wanted to drive separate," Joel teased as he led you towards his truck. He opened the passenger door and stepped back so you could get in but you paused and looked up at him. His forehead crinkled as he grinned, his eyes squinting in the sun and all you wanted to do was kiss him and never stop.

"What?" he finally asked when you didn't make a move to get into the car.

"I really want to kiss you right now," you murmured, and you watched the grin slip from his face and his eyes flick down to your mouth.

"We can't," he replied, his voice pained as his gaze continued to drift from your eyes to your lips.

"I know," you sighed. Instead, you stood on your tiptoes to press a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth, your lips lingering a moment longer than you should have before climbing into his truck. His breathing stuttered, the feeling of your lips on his skin again sending him into a tailspin. He took a deep breath and looked up at you in the cab, putting on your seatbelt.

"Soon," he told you, giving your leg a squeeze before closing the door.

"So you mentioned you know some of these lawyers?" you asked him as he drove through downtown Austin.

"Yeah, I've dealt with this law firm a lot on some cases over the years. They're good people, as far as lawyers go," he joked before making a right hand turn. "I asked to meet with one of the women. Her name's Madeline. She's nice. Been there a real long time. Thought you'd feel more comfortable with that," he said, and you nodded.

"Thank you," you told him for maybe the twentieth time that day. You were convinced if not for Joel, you never would have made it this far. You would have had no idea where to even begin, but he knew the answers to all those questions and helped give you the confidence you so desperately needed.

Your hands began to shake and your stomach felt like it was in knots as the two of you walked up to the front doors of the impressive four-story building. Men and women streamed in and out of the doors, most dressed in suits and pencil skirts and talking on their phones hurriedly. You swallowed the lump in your throat once you got to the front of the building, but Joel held the door open for you with a reassuring smile.

"Don't be nervous, it'll be alright," he murmured as you walked up to the large receptionist desk that housed two women with headsets on, typing furiously into their computers. One looked up and caught your eye, giving you a friendly smile.

"Mornin'," Joel said, telling the young woman your name and appointment time. She glanced at her computer and nodded before looking back up at you both with another smile.

"I'll let her know you're here, you can take a seat. It shouldn't be very long," the woman said, casting Joel one more admiring glance before she turned back to her phone and dialed a number.

Joel led you over to some plush couches and chairs and you nervously picked up an old magazine. You skimmed through it, just looking for something to occupy your hands as you waited. He sat down next to you, then inched closer so he could rest his arm along the back of the couch. It felt like he was wrapping his arms around you without actually touching you, and it gave you a temporary sense of peace.

After a few minutes of listening to the receptionists answer the phones and transfer calls, you finally heard your name and Joel's. You both looked up to find a thin, middle aged woman with short, blonde hair and glasses and a kind smile waiting for you.

"Maddy," Joel said warmly, and the hairs on the back of your neck went up. He wouldn't have asked an ex-girlfriend to represent you, would he?

"Joel, long time no see," she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek before introducing herself to you and shaking your hand.

"That's usually a good thing," he reminded her as the two of you followed her down a long hallway, passing by a few empty conference rooms and closed doors that presumably lead to offices.

"Yes, very true," she agreed with a chuckle before stopping in front of her office. She extended an arm, inviting the two of you to enter first before she followed and closed the door behind her.

"How's Tracy?" Joel asked, glancing at a photo on her desk as you sat down.

"She's great. It's our ten year anniversary this summer. We're planning a cruise," she said, settling into her desk chair and shooting you a smile.

Okay, so probably not an ex.

"Alright, let's not waste any time. I know you drove a long way to get here," Madeline said, clasping her hands together on her desk and giving you another smile. She gave off a positive energy, and you could feel yourself loosening up. "I read over everything Joel sent over so I know the basics, and I am so sorry for everything you've had to endure," she said, her eyes softening. "But can you explain to me why you've never tried to come forward before? Trust me, his lawyer will bring it up."

"Well, I have tried," you began, your fingers tangling together in your lap. "I've gone to the police a handful of times but every time I thought I was making progress, Patrick would do something - call in a favor, I don't know," you said with a shrug. "And my police reports magically disappeared. I've gone to the hospital on several occasions-"

"That's right, I did read that. Which hospital?" she asked, picking up a pen, the tip hovering over a legal pad.

"There were a few different ones," you said, then rattled off the names and approximate dates you visited each hospital.

"Okay. We'll reach out and get copies of those records for the trial," she said, dropping the pen and looking at you to continue.

You went on to tell her about your experience with the police back in Philadelphia and how angry Patrick would get after those visits. You told her about his disappearances for days at a time and how he would come home in a haze, no doubt with alcohol and some type of drug in his veins, how those were the times he hurt you the most.

By the time you got to the part in your story where you packed a bag and left Philadelphia during one of Patrick's benders, you felt a lot more at ease. Your nerves were gone and Madeline's comforting gaze made it so much easier to tell her everything.

"So the next step in the process is discovery. Our team here is going to be digging up dirt back in Philly, and I am sure Patrick's lawyer is already doing the same thing," she said, putting down her pen and looking at you over her glasses. "That being said: is there anything I need to know? I don't like surprises in court. I don't care if you ever smoked weed or pushed him back, I just need to know so I can get ahead of it." You quickly shook your head.

"No, I've never tried drugs and I never hit him back." You glanced over at Joel for the first time and found him staring at you with a look in his eye that made you believe you were thinking about the same thing. After a moment, you turned back to Madeline, about to open your mouth to speak when Joel cut you off.

"There's one more thing," he said, sitting up straighter in his chair. She looked at him curiously, clearly not expecting him to have anything to add. "We, uh," he cleared his throat and glanced over at you. "We had a brief, personal relationship," he said. Madeline sat back in her chair and you could have sworn she was glaring at him. "It's over. It was just once," he continued, and you nodded quickly, trying to help him out.

"Nobody knows, either," you told her, drawing her gaze back onto you. "Patrick had his suspicions, but he also accused me of sleeping with two cooks from work, which is untrue," you clarified, "he's just jealous and angry."

"How can you be sure nobody knows?" she asked, and you paused.

"W-well, nobody..." you trailed off, looking at Joel for help.

"It's a small town, Maddy. If people knew, they'd be talkin'. Trust me," he said, rolling his eyes. "The most anyone knows is I had a little crush on her, but nothin' more."

"Besides. Patrick's cheated on me for years. I'm not an idiot, I could smell the perfume on his jacket and found the condom wrappers in his pants pocket," you told her, but she shook her head.

"This is a little different, hun," she said, leaning forward. "Joel's the town sheriff. He arrested Patrick and broke his nose. It's going to look like he had ulterior motives," she said, lifting up a piece of paper in front of her to double check her notes.

"I didn't break his nose, the table broke his nose. It was self-defense. The guy's got nothin'," Joel scoffed.

"Yeah you're probably right, but he's still going to make your life a living hell in court," Madeline said. "You looking for representation, too?"

"What?!" you exclaimed, turning in your seat to look at Joel. "He's suing you?"

"Yeah, it's no big deal. Happens from time to time, nothin' ever comes from it," he said casually.

"Why didn't you tell me?" you asked, your voice softening.

"Didn't wanna worry you. You gotta focus on this," he said, pointing to Madeline. "The other shit doesn't matter."

You wanted to argue with him but you knew your time was running short, so you let it go.

"Well at least you had the good sense not to take her statement," she said, glancing down at the papers before her. "Let's just hope it doesn't come up, and if it does, I'll be prepared," she said, making a note to herself before giving you her attention again. "I'll do my best to fast track this and set a court date. I'll have my team call his superior officer and we'll run some checks on him, call the hospitals, and start building your case. I'll be in touch soon about any potential witnesses you can bring to the stand that you trust. Anybody who might have witnessed Patrick abusing you, even if he was just yelling or twisting your arm. People you confided in. Anybody you might think can help, start thinking about it now and gathering contact info, okay?"

"Okay," you said firmly. You were starting to feel better, like this was the beginning of the end. And you had the feeling that Madeline was the right person to fight for you. She seemed honest and straight forward, understanding yet tough. This was someone who would give you your freedom back.

"And I can get a divorce?" you asked, and she nodded.

"Yes, I'm going to file the petition this afternoon and he will be served the papers," she explained. "If he contests it, we can cross that bridge when we come to it, but I'm hoping with all the fire we're throwing at him, he won't want to put up a fight."

"Thank you," you breathed, feeling even more at ease now that something was actually happening today. Any amount of progress at this point made you feel good.

You stayed another hour to review an endless amount of paperwork: the contract with the law firm, reviewing your statement for any inaccuracies, initialing and dating next to so many paragraphs on the petition to be filed that your eyes were going blurry by the end.

As you both stood up to follow Madeline out of her office, you stopped short.

"Wait, what about payment? I don't think we discussed legal fees in the contract," you said, frowning as you pulled your copy of the contract out from under your arm.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought Joel already told you," she said, glancing over at Joel, who dropped his gaze to his shoes. "The partners picked your case pro bono. The firm has to do a certain number each year and Joel suggested to a few of the right people that your case should be considered."

Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped.

"Are you kidding me?" you whispered in shock, trying to fight the tears that were beginning to spring up. You looked at Joel but he averted his gaze before awkwardly clearing his throat.

"It's no big deal-" he began, but you cut him off.

"No, it is a big deal," you told him, and he clamped his mouth shut. Madeline's eyes flicked between the two of you for a moment, watching as you tried and failed to come up with the right words to convey your gratitude.

"The firm is happy to represent you, hun," Madeline said, breaking the silence. "We're gonna make sure this guy gets what's coming to him, understand?"

You tore your eyes away from Joel, who was finding it difficult to look anywhere but the floor.

"Thank you. Thank you so much," you told her, and she smiled before extending her arm towards the door.

As you walked towards the lobby, she was reminding you to expect a call in a few days with an update and to have a list of contacts ready for her, but you just nodded along numbly, barely listening.

Joel had already gone above and beyond by finding you a good lawyer and coming with you for support, but to also convince them to handle your legal fees? He didn't have to do any of this, but he did, and he didn't expect anything in return. Nobody had ever expressed so much concern about you before. And as you walked in silence towards the parking garage, you realized there could only be one explanation. There could only be one reason why he would do so much, and the thought had your heart pounding in your chest.

You drove in silence for a while, the atmosphere in the truck tense. He tried putting music on but you couldn't focus on anything other than everything that happened in the past few hours. Then you started to go back even further: cleaning your apartment and finding you furniture after Patrick vandalized it, walking you home during a rain storm, fixing your fucking sink when you had barely spoken two sentences to him. You rolled your head to the side, watching him as he focused on the freeway, his grip tight around the steering wheel.

"Look at me," you said quietly, and you saw a muscle in his jaw twitch. After too long of a pause, he just said one word.

"Can't."

"Why not?"

"I'm drivin'."

"Bullshit," you said, and watched his throat bob as he swallowed nervously. You continued to stare him down, willing him to look at you, needing to see into his eyes to confirm your suspicion.

"Please, Joel," you finally said, your voice small. You could see the conflict in his face. The way his lips formed a hard line and his brows pinched together as he fought the urge, but once again he found he couldn't say no.

Slowly, he pulled his gaze off the road and forced himself to look at you. Your lips parted as you looked right through him and he knew right then and there he was fucked.

"Pull over," you mumbled, and he just nodded. He could feel the heat of your gaze on him as he took the nearest exit and pulled into a parking lot of what appeared to be an abandoned department store.

He didn't need to ask and you didn't bother to explain.

Once he parked, doing his best to choose a secluded spot, you each ripped off your seatbelts. He reached down to pull the lever below his seat and slid it back as far as it would go and in broad daylight, you climbed over the console to straddle his lap. His hands flew to your hips as you gripped the sides of his face, searching his eyes frantically before your mouth crashed down over his with a moan.

Joel was normally a strong man, but something about you always made him so weak. Weak and selfish and desperate and he wouldn't have it any other way. That's why, even though he knew it was a mistake, he kissed you back. Your tongues tangled together and when your hands slid up to his hair, he was done for. You were too warm and tasted too sweet and felt too fucking good, it was a miracle he came to his senses when your hand dropped down between you to land on his belt and he managed to pull away.

"That's not why I did all this," he said, each of you panting for air. "I didn't do it so I could fuck you."

"I know," you assured him, cupping the back of his neck. "I know why you did it."

He gazed up at you and slowly nodded.

"Reckon it's pretty obvious, huh?" he said softly, toying with the hem of your dress.

You didn't say anything in return. Instead, you lowered your mouth hungrily over his and he happily obliged. And when your hand drifted back down to his belt, he didn't stop you. He couldn't deny it any longer. He tried, he really did, but it was hopeless.

He wouldn't say the words out loud, and you were grateful. Because if he had, you weren't sure you would be able to convince yourself this was a one-time thing. Madeline's disapproving glare was seared into the back of your mind, her comments about Joel's own lawsuit still very much a concern, but when you lowered yourself onto him, each of you groaning your need into each other's mouths as you stretched around him, it all became a distant memory.

"Missed you so much," you mumbled against his skin as your mouth dragged down his jaw. You rolled your hips, slowly at first, but picked up the pace when you remembered you were in the middle of a parking lot and didn't have much time. "You feel so good," you continued, feeling his arms tense around you as he tried to hold himself back. "Think about you all the time. Especially in bed - ah!" you cried out when he began bucking up into you.

"Yeah? You touch yourself when you think about me?" he grunted in your ear, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you nodded. His hands gripped your waist, guiding your movements up and down while his mouth ghosted over your chest, wishing more than ever he could glide his tongue over your nipples, but he was too aware of where you were. He settled for yanking the sleeve of your dress down, exposing your shoulder so his teeth and facial hair could leave little red marks, hidden from view.

"Can't get enough of you, can't fuckin' stay away," he groaned, watching as you circled your hips, greedily chasing your own pleasure. Your arm shot out to the side, seeking leverage against the now foggy window, your fingers leaving telltale streaks as your hand slowly dragged downwards so when he got into his truck the next morning, he would see the ghost of your hand in the early morning dew.

"Joel," you whined, tossing your head back while you began to bounce, your ass accidentally beeping the horn and making you both laugh. Nothing could harm you here. Not when you had each other. Not when you had the feel of his rough hands over your skin and his soft lips against your mouth.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his arms wrapped around you, holding you close. "C'mon, baby. Want you to feel me tomorrow," he said, lifting his hips up to meet yours, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

You gasped as your body went rigid, a white hot heat ripping through you while your legs began to shake and you whimpered his name over and over. You heard Joel groan and say something, probably a warning he was close, but you couldn't be sure. You nodded and mumbled some encouragement but your mind was still too fuzzy and your ears were practically ringing from the force of your orgasm. But when his teeth sunk into your shoulder, the slight pain snapped you out of it. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you down firmly onto his lap until his body stilled and he grunted into your skin.

You rested your cheek on the top of his head while his face stayed buried in your chest, both of you fighting for air as reality slowly began to sink in.

"Guess I didn't behave myself," he finally said with a chuckle. You grinned and lazily raised your head up so you could look at him.

"I think I'll take the blame for this one," you said before lifting off of him with a little gasp and moving your underwear back in place. You were about to swing your leg back over to your seat when he stopped you.

"Just another minute," he said, his hands mindlessly sliding up and down your thighs, and you draped your arms around his neck.

"We shouldn't do this again," you finally said, breaking the spell. He sighed and nodded but his hands continued to glide up and down your legs.

"I know."

You cupped his face and tilted his chin up to look at you. Your thumbs brushed over his cheeks as you stared into his eyes, still seeing everything he didn't have the courage to say. Leaning down, you pressed a tender kiss against his lips, then rested your foreheads together.

"Thank you, Joel."

"You're welcome, baby."

As promised, a few days later, Madeline's secretary reached out for a list of contacts that could be called upon to support your case. You didn't have many people in your corner, but you gave her your cousin's information back in Philadelphia, an old co-worker who you had partially confided in when the abuse started, a few friends who had noticed bruises but you had made up excuses for them at the time, and you reluctantly gave your mother's information, with the note to discuss with you first before contacting her.

You had hoped Madeline wouldn't want to call on your mother to testify. You hadn't spoken to her since you ran away to Texas, and given the way she responded when you told her what Patrick was doing, you weren't confident she would be a good witness. But it was still someone from your past who you confided in, and that was what Madeline was looking for: a trail of evidence, cries for help, anything to prove the most recent incident was not a one off situation.

"Madeline called me today," you told Joel after picking up his empty plate.

"Oh, yeah?" he asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"She reviewed all the contacts I gave to her secretary and she scheduled another appointment for next week."

"Great, what day?" he asked, pulling out his phone.

"Tuesday," you said, replacing his coffee with a glass of ice water. He glanced up at you and quirked an eyebrow. "You drink too much caffeine," you explained, and he grinned.

"Ah, shit. I have a thing at Sarah's school that day. Lemme see if I can reschedule it-"

"No, go to Sarah's school, I wasn't telling you so you would come with me, I was just... letting you know," you said with a shrug.

"You sure?" he questioned, and you nodded.

"I'm sure. I know how to get there now and I feel comfortable with Madeline. I swear, I'll be fine," you told him. He put his phone down on the counter and thought for a moment before leaning forward and lowering his voice.

"This ain't 'bout what happened last time, is it?"

"No!" you said in surprise, and he looked relieved. "Not at all. I'm just trying to... I don't know, take control of my life, I guess?" He nodded but he still looked confused. "What I mean is, I think it's important I do some things for myself. Not that I don't appreciate-"

"I get it," he said with a chuckle as he stood up from his stool. "You just let me know if you change your mind."

"Okay," you replied with a smile, but stopped him when you realized he hadn't touched his water. You held the glass out to him and he stared at it, then looked at you with a sigh before plucking it from your grip and downing the whole thing in one gulp.

"Happy?"

"Very," you said with a grin, and watched him as he walked towards the front door, stopping briefly to chat with Maria before heading back to work.

Joel shoved his hands into the pockets of his dress pants as he walked back to the station, nodding to a few people along the way. He couldn't stop his gaze from traveling up to the window above the pizza place every time he walked by, smiling to himself when he noticed a new plant in your window.

The bullpen sounded quiet as Joel made his way back to his office. He liked quiet days. That was always a good day, in his book. He sat down in his chair with a huff, the little orange light on his desk phone blinking angrily at him, indicating a voicemail. He picked up the phone and punched in his passcode. He was reaching for a pen when the voice on the other end of the phone made him freeze.

"Joel, it's Maddy. Give me a call back when you get this, it's urgent."

Taglist: @harriedandharassed@merz-8@sarap-77@nandan11@anoverwhelmingdin@fandomscollide@survivingandenduring@honeyedmiller@pedropascalsbbg@southernbe@pedrosfanny@gobaaby-blog-blog @eloquentdreamer @yomiyasxx @mrsparknuts@missladym1981@spacedoutdaydreamer @cosmic006533-blog @prettyinpunk85@maried01 @sunnyskyapplepie @sawymredfox@gobaaby-blog-blog@stevie75@mxtokko@sleepylunarwolf@lizzie-cakes@laurrrra@annieispunk@here4thedilfs @navystandardheatingoilcap @slugz-writes-shit@devilbat@ashleyfilm@scp116@tragerlover@iveseenstrangerthings50 @yvonneeeee @brittmb115@lulawantmula@abbysgirlll@ro-nahime-things@whxtedreams@ashhlsstuff@little-pookie@serenadingtigers@paleidiot@ashy-kit@lizlil@detectivejuliuspepperwood@buckyispunk @fckinel @sarahhxx03 @krispeenuggiez @flippittygibbitts@picketniffler@pedroslittlelady

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#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller series #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #sheriff!joel #waitress reader #STR fic

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olderthannetfic · 4 months

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Oh, dammit, it finally happened to me. I entered a new fandom and it's filled to the brim with antis. It's for a game that heavily features dark themes and suicide, but you're not allowed to depict those or you ~romanticize~ suicide and self harm.

A ship week posted its prompts, and among the list were entries like making out and self harm. The characters involved are both 16, and lo and behold, a whole bunch of people got angry. Couldn't fathom why these prompts would ever be included in a ship week and started throwing around pedo accusations. "The fact that the organizers blocked naysayers instead of accepting criticism says enough" shows that they don't want to help anyone or have a discussion, they want people to do what they say and obey, no questions asked.

I've never been in a fandom like this. How do I keep myself safe here without going insane? I started by blocking anyone who expresses annoying sentiments, but I plan on writing some dark themes and NSFW stuff. The worst part is that it won't even be SA/underage dark themes or kinky NSFW stuff, just standard coming-of-age and mental health stuff that can be expected between young adults with depression. I already know that people will throw a fit over these aged-up 20 y/o's being depicted as sexual beings anyway.

Laugh in their faces when they try shit.

Bullies like smelling blood in the water. They don't like being told they're stupid children whose opinions don't count, whether that's by you actually saying that or you just blocking them as worthless in the first place.

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tan1shere · 2 months

Text

Look after you

Ellie Williams x female reader !

A/n: currently in the situation where I was slightly drunk earlier, my ass passed tf out for a good 4 hours 😭 but like I woke up and my head slightly hurts (I found out that I had spilt some of my drink in my hair- it was a night ill say that 😃) and it made me think how Els would be while taking care of her drunk girlfriend. Hope you guys like this regardless, I kinda made this more comforting as I need that right now fr 😔✊🏻

Summary: Ellie taking care of her drunk girlfriend, but why is she even drunk in the first place ?

Warnings: drinking, swearing ? Slight angst in a way ??? Mentions of depression. Just cute fluffyness tho :) - this is set in where they are still in that little town ♡

Masterlist

The smell of alcohol was all that could be smelt in the small bar you and Dina were at. You two decided to go out for the night, the both of you getting absolutely wasted. When Jesse came to pick the both of you up he was shocked at the two of you for drinking so much. "You two are insane." He said as he walked with you guys. "I'm so sane." You'd slur. Which earned a hum from Dina. "I'm going to Ellies, later." You said as you stumbled off. You go over to her little garage of a home, just clumsily opening the door. Everything was spinning, your mind was so dizzy but oh boy did you feel good. As you enter you see Ellie on her bed reading a comic. She looks up at you. "Oh Jesus you look drunk as a skunk." She begins to get up. "I dunno what you're on about." You mumble, heading over to her couch feeling as if your legs were about to give out. She sighs. "Did Dina get this wasted too?" You don't answer only shrug.

She awaits for an answer when she hears giggling, she looks at you slumped on the sofa, laughing like a little weirdo. It only makes her smile tho. "Come on, let's get that makeup off." You look at her as she speaks. "Noo I'm comfortable!" You say, moving slightly on the old couch. "And I'm not taking 'noo' for an answer, I know you. You'll hate yourself in the morning." You groan, but still staying in your spot. "Don't make me come over there." She begins to walk over, when suddenly you feel a presence on top of you. "Ughhh get off." You weakly try to push her, this just makes her laugh. "That's cute. But don't make me have to bring it over here, I'll go into the bathroom and grab those cloths don't put it past me." She puts a finger in your face, you then look at it, going to bite it gently. "Ay!" She exclaims pulling it away. This makes those previous giggles return.

"You're such a fucking menace you know that." You hum as she says that. "You love my menaceness." She shakes her head at you. "That's not even a word, you drunkie." You open your eyes up fully to look at her. "Well I made it one." Ellie rolls her eyes at how silly that statement was, making her laugh once again. She gets up eventually going to leave for the bathroom. "Nawww." "Stop your whining I'll be right back." Your drunken mind finds that funny, starting to smile and giggle as you replay her words in your brain. "You loveeee when I'm whiney." She raises her brows, coming over to you with a warm cloth. "Don't start with me Missy." She says as she sits on the couch, moving your legs so they're resting on her lap. "You didn't deny it." You sing. "If you don't shut up now you really will be whining."

You give her a silly little glare. But it did make you shut up. She begins to bring the face cloth over your makeup, wiping slightly. You being your annoying drunk self goes to swat her hand away. "You little monster." "Hey! I'm not little." You huff, but she ignores all these antics going for your face again. "No. No touching, I'm not even speaking to you right now." Which puts a smile on her face because you were indeed speaking to her. "Is that so? May I know why?" You shake your head. "No, you figure it out since you're so big and smart." You huff again. "Cuz I called you little huh?" You just give her a look. "God you're pleasant when you're drunk." She says sarcastically. "Say you're sorry for calling me short and then you can do whatever it is you were doing." She gives you a be for real look, rolling her eyes with a shake of her head. Knowing you are drunk still, just going to do so anyways.

"I'm so very sorry I called you little. There." You ponder for a second. "Nope, didn't say what i told you to." This makes her let out a huff. Earning a cheeky smile on your face. "God you're trouble." "Say it." You giggle. "I am so incredibly sorry that I called you short. Happy?" She says. "Yes very." You could feel the tiredness taking over, she notices. "Come on, let's sit up." She goes to try and get you to do so, making you groan as your head started to hurt from the dizziness. Not long after she was done with taking your makeup off, going into the bathroom to put the cloth on the small railing she had. When you suddenly felt like- "Ellie.." You began. "Yes my drunkie." But she didn't realize you had gone serious as your tone was still slurred. She comes out to look at you. "Baby?" Her brows furrow. "I think I'm gunna-" you don't even need to finish that sentence before she's over there helping you up and into the bathroom where you immediately puke in the toilet.

The groan you let out makes her heart hurt as she knows you hate puking. She holds your hair back as you continue to chuck up your guts, feeling slight tears spring from your eyes. "I hate puking." She gets on the floor with you. "I know babygirl. I'm sorry I got home so late tonight, even tho that doesn't matter I should've gone down to see you." There was a silence as she began to stroke some hair out of your face. "Whyd you drink so much love." She asks softly, you just shrug in return. Honestly you don't know why. You'd been feeling a little off lately and you thought this night with Dina, having some drinks would ease the slight sadness inside you, but if anything it's made you feel worse. "Talk to me sweetheart." That makes you look at her, feeling tears again. This time they were genuinely sad ones, not out of pain from puking.

"I don't know whats wrong with me." You sob, one thing Ellie hates is when you cry, she just wishes she could take that pain away for you. "Nothings wrong with you my girl, nothing." She says, cupping your face gently. "I don't even know why I'm sad, i- I have no reason to be." You hiccup not only from the crying but also from the fact your still just a tiny bit drunk. Which makes her say this. "Why don't we talk about this when you're fully with it yeah? I think you've had a long night and rest is the best thing right now." You nod, agreeing. "I'm going to get you some water ok?" You let out a small mhmmm in understanding. Getting up with her. She walks you over to her bed, carefully laying you down on your side, brushing any loose hair out of your face and making sure your comfortable. She came back with a glass, getting you to sit up a bit and drink it. But you were worried to, as you didn't want to puke again.

"Drink it, please. You lost alot of fluids you need it." You know you do, but it wasn't easy. "I promise you won't puke, why don't you suck on some ice instead." This makes you feel happy inside. "Ice chips?" She smiles at you. "Ice chips." All you wanted was to give her a big hug and a kiss. She truly knew you and you couldn't thank her enough for being such a great girlfriend. "I love you Ellie." She grabs your hand smiling more. "I love you baby. Let me get the ice hm?" You nod softly at her words. As she goes to get it you sit and think. You really didn't know why you were so upset inside lately. Maybe it was the dull weather or another one of your depressive episodes. You did miss Ellie though, she has been so busy lately you feel like you haven't really been with her. Maria always getting her to go on patrols, poor Ellie never has a day off, even if she loves what she does everyone needs a break from time to time.

She comes back over with a tiny bowl and some small ice chunks. "Here you go pretty girl." You thank her going to suck on the first one. She sits on the bed just looking at you admiringly, putting any annoying piece of hair out of your face. "Els?" "Hmm?" She hums gently. "Why don't you have a day off from patrol baby." She softens her look as you say that. "Get Maria to ask someone else, you're always working your ass off." And it all clicked on why you said what you said earlier. "I'm so sorry." You get a bit confused by her apology. "I should've seen you were getting depressed again." That makes you look into your lap fiddling with your hands, but she grabs them. "Look at me baby." And you do. "From now on I'll take the breaks i need and to spend that time with you. I realize I do work alot, and I don't really need to- but I'll tell her that from now on." You nod.

"It worries me Els." She shakes her head. "I don't ever want you to worry about that-" "but it does baby. I see how worn out you are. Take tomorrow off, please?" Which she immediately nods to. "Ofcourse, I was going to anyway. Gotta look after my hungover girl don't I?" You smile at her. "I'm still sorry tho my love. I never ever want you to feel lonely inside, and seeing you cry earlier broke me. I hate seeing you cry." You hold her hand tighter. "I'll be okay, I've got my amazing protector." She smiles big. "Dina." You try not to let out a laugh at Ellies offended face. "I'm kidding I'm kidding." "You better be, I don't see her here looking after you, do you?" You smile more. "No. Ofcourse I meant you silly." She just smiles now. "Ok good, cuz I'm just that amazing." She says, putting her arm up showing her muscle. "And your protector." That makes you laugh more going to punch her arm. "You goofball." She gives you a small glare. "Ow that hurt." She tries to look sad but she immediately laughs, making you join in with her.

Ellie then wipes the left over tears from before. "So it's a plan, no more working overtime when I truly don't need to, and spend all that time with my special girl." Nodding, as you smile. "It's a plan." "Good." She goes to lean into kiss you but you pull back, leaving her stunned. "I have puke breath.." She just lets out a pft noise. "Good God woman, I've watched you pee and crap before, a little puke isn't going to gross me out, not to mention I literally watched you hurl." You playfully roll your eyes. "You're mad." "For you? Fuck yeah." Your smile hasn't been so big in a long time. You were glad to be back. And so was Ellie.

#elliewilliams #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams angst #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams comfort

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zorosleftmantit101 · 9 months

Text

One Piece characters as tweets I found stupidly funny Part 1

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Nami, Robin, Law, Kid, Bartolomeo, Ace, Sabo, Shanks

A/N: shit posting is my superhero

C/W: swearing, idk like general shit post stuff,

Luffy: you'd be amazed at how many times i've fucked around without finding a single thing out

Zoro: sunscreen smells so good i be lathering that shit all up on my nuts

Sanji: when the parmesan wont come out of the container so u have to spank its little ass

Usopp: This is the worst video I've ever watched. I'm going to kill myself now thank you

Nami: My husband finally confessed to me that he's depressed and thinking about ending it all because he thinks I'd be better off without him.

I always thought he was strong and reliable, and seeing this weak side of him is making me think he's probably right.

Robin: why do they call it horseplay ive never seen horses play. they're always just standing there like they saw someone get shot

Law: noise cancelling headphones aren't enough i need everyone to die

Kid: something about saying

"your honor"

dont sit right w me... send me to jail. i aint dickriding you

Bartolomeo: thank god my anal itching was hemorrhoids

Sabo: walking downhill is so embarrassing like ooo look at me doing a little trot like a stupid fucking horse i'd rather be dead

Shanks: not liking my posts is like seeing me lying in the street covered in blood and you just keep walking

Ace: MY DAD GOT ME THIS YEARS AGO, I think it was a ploy so l'd choose him in the divorce

@zorosleftmantit101 2023

#zorosleftmantit #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece headcanons #one piece funny #headcanon #one piece x you #crack post #luffy x reader #zoro x reader #sanji x reader #law x reader #nami x reader #robin x reader #shitpost #monkey d luffy #one peice #one piece live action #one piece crack

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loganlermanstanaccount · 6 months

Text

Rigor Mortis (part 10)

College roommate!Miguel O'Hara x reader

(AO3 Mirror) (Wattpad) Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist,

Part 9, Part 11

summary: In the morning, Miguel reminisces.

warnings: smut! grinding, humping, alcohol, PIV, switch-y behaviour (what's new), aftercare, mentions of depression. 18+ Minors DNI

a/n: soft melty mig >>>

Thank you to my beta readers, @tianyhi and @urgonnaneedabiggership (they also write Miguel fics, I highly recommend! my favourite is this series), I couldn't have done it without you guys <3

Join my taglists here

wc: 4.5k

Oh! and I finally made the series' playlists (very open to requests) <3

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

between your bodies;

You wake up with a headache and a lump in your throat.

Bleary eyes; and you rub away sleep, rosy and warm around the edges. Everything smells like him, is your very first thought. It's the kind of thing that has you reeling, tossing and turning in unfamiliar sheets before looking up at a mottled ceiling. Light creeps in from curtains cracked open, rays spreading like wildfire on everything it touches. Miguel's bed is by the window, and you can't help but curl up what little light spills in with your hands; palm upwards, slowly balled into fists. It's warm, and your hand feels a little different.

Oh.

Like a bolt of lightning, memories of the night before run up your spine; dancing up and down between the sheets. Miguel's hand in yours, his skin pressed up against you, a room spinning in the kind of way that seems romantic. Seems romantic; you note. It could've been the alcohol, but you had felt something between you two, yesterday. Something… different . Your cheeks grow warm at the thought of last night; drunken revelations and so much light, it burns.

I like the way your eyes scrunch up when you smile. I like the way you look in the morning, squinting at labels and cereal packets. You've got the prettiest lips I've ever seen, Miguel.

You burrow under the covers as you recall it; the memory of Miguel between your thighs, his head in the crook of your shoulder. The way he had half-laughed, heady and heavy and thick with want, low groans pooling by the shell of your ear. You're not too sure if you meant it; really, really meant it; and you're scared of what that means. Casual sex was the agreement, and you didn't think you had the capacity for much else.

Sighing, you stretch your leg out from under the covers, dipping a tentative toe on the rug. Bare, except for a T-shirt whose hem kisses your thighs. Mig's t-shirt, of course, and you tug it down as you slip out of his bed. The aftermath, things tossed off shelves and awards that had clattered to the ground, lies in last night's wake. Guiltily, you root around to pick up his things.

They're more personal than the things around the house. You notice a plaque or two from undergrad, his diploma - biomechanics and chemical engineering with honours - and even a certificate from a middle school science fair. The image makes you smile: little Mig with braces and a distinct frown, handed a plastic trophy in front of a spotty crowd. 'First Place' it says, and knowing him his entry was less baking soda volcano and more miniature Hadron Collider . If he's anything like he is now; he was probably a mouthy little pain-in-the-ass, too.

You take a watch off of the floor, half hidden under his bed. A knee brushes past a clear box; that jostles and rattles around like nails in a metal can. From vague outlines, you can see a box of junk , in every sense of the word: scrap metal, wires, plastic tubing. A whole scrapyard under his bed, and you reach for it, curious. Something knicks at your hand in the process. Glass, from a broken pane of a frame slipped under the bed. Softly, you hiss, sucking at the cut that draws blood.

More careful, now, you push the frame towards you, sweeping up the glass as best you can. In the lowlight, you can't make out much. Carefully, you hold it by a corner - an intricate thing, all twisted metal and brushed bronze. From out under the bed, you see it, or rather, him: Miguel, a little younger, surrounded by a couple of unfamiliar faces. A taller man, a much older woman - and they both smile in the way he does, crows feet and with the kind of warmth that reaches their eyes. In his arms (Miguel's, but not your Miguel) is a little girl. She is small; wide-eyed, gap-toothed; looking up at him, as if the camera wasn't there. The adoration in her face makes you smile. His sister, maybe? His brother, Gabi, and his dear mama ?

Gently, you place it on the side table. You sweep up the glass into your hand, ignoring the sting that spreads to your palms. It's not a deep cut, but you head to the kitchen anyway, in search of warm soapy water and something to mop it up.

Slipping past the doorway, it is deathly quiet. Morning spills in through a window, illuminating a lone figure - broad shoulders, tan and bare save for pyjama pants, hunched over the dining table.

Miguel doesn't seem to notice as you get closer, finally able to hear slight noise and chatter from a tinny phone. Cup of coffee in hand, you watch as he scrolls, replaying the same video over and over. From over his shoulder, you can just about make it out: music that had deafened you at the time, loops with a pathetic whine. A video from last night, it seems, and you recognise the icon of Lyla's story. Bright lights, your dress sparkling and a pretty little laugh drowned out by Lyla's - he seems to replay the same couple of seconds over, and over, and–

“Mig?” He jumps, leaping almost 3 feet into the air, it seems. His phone shuts off with a clatter, slammed onto the table. Turning, he seems guilty, before flattening his face into something more socially acceptable.

“H-Hi. Morning.” He clears his throat, giving you an awkward nod.

“Morning,” Softening, you slink down to take a seat. He knows, of course: he knows that you know, that you saw exactly what he's been doing. But you're both going to ignore it, let it settle in the gaps between you - a gap that quickly shrinks, he notes.

The chair drags across the floor, almost catching at a rug on the wooden slats. When you seat yourself by him; closer, closer, oh-so close; you can't help but brush your legs to his, addicted to the way it makes him shiver. Payback, you think, grabbing at his mug and stealing a sip before he can say anything. For all the times he's fucked with your head.

Miguel knows better than to protest, crossing his arms resolutely. He sighs - not maliciously, but with a tinge of defeat. You're too pretty, and too close for him to think properly; to even muster up the energy to argue. And so he doesn't, opting to chew at the inside of his cheek.

“ Hey .” You say, hand coming up to cheekbone, stroking at it with your thumb. Miguel tries not to lean into it, to melt into the touch. “ Careful. Where'd you go?”

It makes him laugh, bitterly, ruefully - whatever you want to call it. Where'd you go? And you say it like you've got an inkling of all the shit that goes on in his head. He goes to the same place he always seems to be, these days. Somewhere that reminds him of you , of your nights together, of your nights apart–

“Did you sleep well?” You're asking, and it takes him a second to process it.

“Sure.” Shrugging, he lies, and you pretend to believe him. “Long night, I suppose.”

When he picks that moment to look at you, to bore into your soul, you take your hand away; feeling naked , feeling bare .

“What about you? Did you sleep well?”

And you hum, non-committal, in response.

“Can’t remember much.” It’s a bold-faced lie, and he knows it.

He chews at his lips, eyes dragged down to your figure. He’s shameless, lashes fluttering before he sighs - with the kind of tiredness that rattles at his chest - scratching at a 5 o’clock shadow.

He’s pinching at the bridge of his nose like he’s battling a headache - and losing miserably. Miguel; your Miguel, this time; looks so pathetic, with the countenance of a wet mop. It’s not a grimace, nor a frown, like always. It looks like melancholy - thinly veiled, bone-deep - and it makes your heart splinter.

You just… you just want to comfort him. To hold him in your arms and stroke his hair, to press kisses into the crinkles at the side of his mouth, his forehead: to be warm and soft and somewhere safe , for him.

It’s a compulsion you can’t fight, clambering over him to sit on his lap. His gaze flickers, pointedly trying to ignore you, but his hand rests comfortably on plush thigh. It sends a shiver down your spine; how tender his touch is, even when like this.

“I…” You start, tracing a hand to his scratchy jaw and gently tilting him towards you. “I remember enough.”

He can’t help it, hand travelling a little further up and eyes flitting to your lips.

“... Yeah ?” And it comes with an unceremonious squeeze at your ass, wetting his lips with pink tongue.

That gap between you shrinks even more as you press your chest to his, with a hand at his shoulder. God, his skin is hot to the touch; lean muscle that tenses under your palm. He gets closer.

“What are you doing today?” He’s trying so hard, forcing himself to look you in the eye - betrayed only by a pounding heart and a lingering look to your lips.

Coupled with the way he looks at you; kneading at your thighs, leaning into your gentle palm; it makes your throat close up.

“...U-Umm, I think–”

“It’s Friday, right?” He hums, head cocked as if deep in thought. “You’ve got… stats and lab prep, today.”

You frown. “Yeah, actually. How did you–”

“You’re always complaining about Fridays.”

“I didn’t yesterday.”

“I’ve barely seen you all week, sweetheart.”

“ And who’s fault is that? ” Muttering, you roll your eyes, trying not to show him the way it makes you melt.

“I listen.” He says, soft.

“...sometimes.” You finish, but it’s half-hearted. You know, he knows; he listens . He always has.

“I think…” You clear your throat. “T-Think m’gonna take the day off. I’m pretty–”

Tired. Exhausted. Ready to kiss your roommate if it meant he would look at you like that for a little longer.

“ – hungover .” He whispers, thumb stroking your hip as you snort; ready to bat him away.

Wriggling, his grip tightens, slotting you closer as if in a trance. You’re laughing, a sharp retort at the tip of your tongue, but his wry smile seems tinged with something else. It’s a something that makes your heart skip a beat – but it’s his next words that have you reeling.

“I’ve got the day off, too.”

You’re taken aback. “Don’t you…? I-I mean I thought you’re taking extra hours at Alchemax…”

“Nope.” Resolute, he shakes his head. “We’ve got appraisals or something, today. Upper management only. I thought I told you.”

Brows kneaded, you give him a look he’s well accustomed to. And Miguel; because he’s Miguel, of course; counters it almost immediately.

“Don't give me that … You didn’t even know I wore glasses until yesterday.”

“That’s not fair , Mig.”

“You don’t want to spend the day with me? Dios mio, hermosa.”

“Mig–”

Dramatic, he tips his head back, clutching at his chest. “Am I that bad? You can’t spend a couple hours with me–”

“Mig –”

“Just a couple, sweetheart, and then I’m out of your hair, and you can complain about me to–”

“ Mig! ” You exclaim, giggling whilst you nudge his head forward to meet your gaze.

“You called?” He flutters his eyelashes playfully, with a hint of a smile.

It looks good on him, you think; glad that he feels comfortable enough to finally let go.

There’s a gentle lull and he places hot palms at your thighs to hike you up even closer. You adjust yourself on his lap, watching the way he groans with his head in your hands. It makes you bold: the way he moves to clutch at your hand and dart under the lip of your shirt to press you closer.

A roll of your hips makes him purr , eyes fluttering as he rocks up in thin pants. Quickly hardening, he’s wearing a dopey smile - one you return as you press your forehead to his. He angles his hips just right, causing little moans to spill out from pretty lips. The hand at his jaw travels to the nape of his neck, tugging in that way you know that he likes. You know him, and that makes your chest warm: the way he purrs and rumbles as you touch him in a way only you can.

Roughly, he swallows, head tilted up to catch at your cheek.

“Do you remember what you said last night?” It’s whispered into skin, soft and barely-there. “What you asked me to do?”

Kiss me. Why won’t you kiss me?

Like something sharp and intense through your veins, the memory makes you shiver, leaning into Miguel so his clothed cock catches at your clit. Like this , you don’t want to look at him - you can’t.

Ask me tomorrow.

And so you shake your head, nuzzling into his side with a weak whimper.

There’s a pause so imperceptible you might have imagined it. If Miguel is disappointed - or relieved, or frustrated - you can’t quite tell. Unceremoniously, he latches on, taking large handfuls of your ass and sucking ugly hickies into pretty skin.

“You asked me–” He says it between wet kisses, sloppy and hungry and quickly deepening. “You asked me to fuck you .”

You gulp, hips rolling as you close your eyes.

“ Just the tip, you said.” He lifts you up slightly, rolling back plaid pants. He nips at your neck, all tongue and teeth and claws. “Do you remember now?”

He’s not even inside, teasing your bare folds with the wide head of his cock. Your head tilts to give him more access to that juncture of your jaw. A dry chuckle leaves your lips at his tone and countenance; asking if you remember as he does his best to make you forget even the simplest of things. And that’s the thing about Miguel O’Hara, saccharine-sweet, gorgeous -in-the-low-light O’Hara: he makes you feel so good, everything else falls away.

“ Fuck.” He heaves. “”J-Just the–”

Impatient, you shift your hips, slipping him inside with one delicious movement. You can taste it: pleasure , white-hot and building up just below your gut. Miguel separates with a wet pop, hands trailing up to rid you of your shirt – his shirt, you realise with a moan. Exposed, he eyes your pretty stomach and then the peak of your breast. He keeps you flush to his hips, right at the sharp cut of his v-line, tufts of hair leading to where you both meet. With the way his eyes flutter, you can tell: he wants to kiss you, slathering up your chest to collarbone, and then from collarbone to jaw. He gets close, pressing shaky kisses to the corner of your lips – threatening to break the promise you made to each other long ago. And God , with the way he pistons up into your cunt, you… you just might let him.

Then his hips shift, pubic bone at your clit in a way that brings pleasure to the burn. You’re stretched out, filled to the brim and then leaning back to press your forearms onto the grain of the dining table. Like this, his hands stay squeezing the flesh at the tops of your thighs; only able to watch as you take over. You use a bit of leverage to tilt your hips this way and that - eyes low, not leaving his.

“Feels good , Mig.” You’re whining, eyes locked onto his because you want to watch him fall apart - to watch as all his troubles melt away. “So good. Uhh –Always does. I remember… shit … remember this. ”

And you take his hand, wrapping your lips around his index and middle finger - thick and large - with the memories of how they felt inside you only making you wetter. Gushing praise as best you can, you slobber and slather over his fingers, studying every twitch and gorgeous groan that he gives. He pulls his hand away from you; gentle, but cursing nevertheless; alternating from slapping your ass to tugging at the stiff peak of your nipple. It’s your turn to stutter, hips jumping as you cum - an orgasm so hard he bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from spilling into you. There’s blood in his mouth, he notes as he studies the way you look: beautiful, always beautiful; framed in the gentle pink and purple from a rising sun.

Miguel slips out of you, painfully hard. Still heaving from your orgasm, you lean forward to press his cock between your bodies: bare and gorgeously framed in morning sun. Writhing, you kiss his neck, trailing up to the shell of his ear, whispering sweet nothings.

“Want you to cum, Mig.” And you do… oh God , you do. “You close?”

All he does is groan, nodding fervently into the crook of your neck. Diligently, you wrap him up in your arms, crooning and sweet, carefully rocking into him so his cock slides up and down your soft skin. For once, he doesn’t complain, holding you just as tight.

“M’gonna… o–ohh ffuck …”

“Cum, Mig. For me.”

You’re firm but gentle, pressing your tits up against him and making sure his cock gets that well needed friction. As such, you can feel it almost immediately; hot cum slathered over your tits and body - leaving so much glistening on your skin.

With a rough gulp, he heaves, eyes screwed tightly shut. You can’t help it, brushing away stray hairs from his face, leaving soft kisses in your wake. And maybe, just maybe, you hear him sob - muffled whimpering and whining with every slight shift of your body against his. And oh . It makes your heart melt when you realise, still carding your fingers through the nape of his neck.

He’s overstimulated. It’s too much.

Limp, he stays wrapped around you for a while, muttering nonsense into your skin.

“ Sorry. ” Shakily, he says – like he even has anything to be sorry about. “M’really— fuck. I just need a moment.”

You hum. It makes your heart heavy that he thinks he needs to be ready now , that he thinks he doesn’t deserve more than a moment to process his pleasure. You want Miguel to feel good, you always have. But with the realisation that you want him to be happy ; to feel safe, to feel loved; well…

…it scares you more than anything.

~~~

Aftercare .

Miguel admits, he’s not too familiar with the term.

It’s not something he’s proud of. With many a one night stand under his belt - even, occasionally seeing a girl more than once - he’s never been too good at it. He’s tried, definitely. Tried so very hard to stick around a little longer, to stay curled up in bed and guide his partner through their comedown. Unfortunately, it doesn’t quite come naturally to him - oft susceptible to a glass of water by the bedside and a gentle nudge to an Uber. That physicality: the cuddling , and kissing, the sappy, wholesome, relationship-adjacent thing? He’s never had that desire after sex, much too stuck in his own head for that.

So why does this feel… so good?

You’re taking care of him. He’s not stupid; knowing that your bedside manner is much better than his. You’re merely doing the right thing and helping him past such an intense orgasm: and that seems to come in the form of his head on your chest, limbs tangled up together on your beat up old couch. This doesn’t count , he’s convinced himself: all those rules and boundaries you’ve both come so close to breaking - a little cuddling doesn't even scratch that surface. And if it feels so good to have your hand playing with his hair, to ground himself with the steady thump-thump of your heart, then who is he to complain?

He’s just a man, he decides. A mere mortal, unable to resist that taste of heaven he’s been given - unable to say no . Absentmindedly, you’re humming some stupid song you’ve had stuck in your head for at least a week, now, eyes trained towards a cheesy soap on the TV. There’s a mug of coffee on the table - it tastes like shit, but Miguel is more than happy to gulp it down if it makes you feel better - hot and steaming as you tug the blanket so it covers him a little better.

Unknowingly, you’re lulling him to sleep - the very same sleep he’s been chasing for the past couple of hours. Tossing and turning at night, but barely 10 minutes in your arms and his body only seems to listen to you , for some reason. Traitorous bastard, he thinks, fighting to keep his eyes open.

You’ve cleaned the both of you up - even though he had insisted otherwise. Let me take care of you , he had slurred, and you just laughed ; that pretty, infuriating laugh, with that pretty, infuriating smile – the very same one he’s wanted to kiss off of you since the beginning. Weakly, he protested, following you into the kitchen only to make a nuisance of himself.

It’s like you're drunk, Mig.

In some ways, maybe he is. You had steered him away, and onto couch cushions. Which must have been quite the feat, he notes, able to control all 6”5 of his sleep-deprived, hefty limbs. But he supposes, yet again, his body doesn’t quite listen to him anymore. Only you.

Was it that good? Did I fuck the fine motor skills out of you?

He remembers groaning. He remembers trying not to be drawn in by that lilting giggle, covering his ears with a rough blanket. Most of all, though, he remembers the feeling of your body on his, slipping on top of him to dig him out of that heap.

Miguel? Baby, it’s a joke! I’m kidding, I promise.

He had poked his head out. Baby. He likes that, likes the way his name sounds out of your mouth. It anchors him to this mortal plane like a sharp hook, cutting through the brain fog and burying itself into his chest. You had clasped your hands around his face, steadfast despite his wriggling.

…Oh God, even worse. I think I fucked the common sense out of you instead.

He remembers wanting to kiss you. Your lips curled up into that stupid smile, clearly so pleased at a shitty joke. It makes him warm, thinking about it now. Or maybe, it’s just the blanket you’ve tried to suffocate him in.

“When did you sleep?” You ask, and he has to blink up at you to collect his thoughts.

“Late.” He says it simply.

That answer doesn’t satisfy you, and you’re poking and prodding at his face, gently pulling at slowly deepening eyebags.

“ No fucking wonder .” You mutter. “You’re turning into me. No more late nights, Mig.”

When he frowns, you stick your tongue out, gleefully watching as his grimace deepens.

“Or what?”

“Or we stop having sex.”

That makes him rocket u pwards, indignant. “ You can’t just– ”

“I can do what I want.” Slowly, your face morphs into what must be worry. At least, he thinks it does, not too familiar with someone worrying about him like this. “No more late nights, please”

You say it so softly his heart might break. He clears his throat of its cobwebs.

“That's not really up to me, sweetheart.” Thesis deadlines. Tutoring. Taking on more hours at Alchemax in preparation for a big event. Slowly, his plate mounts, and it takes everything in him to keep going.

“I know,” You settle his head onto your lap, now. Absent-mindedly, you wrap one of his curls around your finger, hand in his hair in a way that feels more intimate than the past hour, days, weeks spent together. “I just wish you'd take care of yourself better.”

It's not said to chastise him, and you don't sound disappointed ; not tinged with the same flavour of guilt that his mama has over the phone, or that Gabi has when he hits him with that deep sigh. It's pure, selfless, plain-and-simple worry. He doesn't deserve it, he thinks.

He looks up at you. Beautifully oblivious, your gaze is still pinned to the TV. It’s domestic, comfortable in the afterglow of sex. That’s what it must be: contentment and bliss settling over him like a warm blanket. The aftermath of being in your arms, of your body on his; purely physical , that follows the kind of euphoria that he imagines can only be found in a needle. Honestly, he’s still expecting a sharp decline, a rough comedown that tastes like regret, or despair, or deep, deep empty. It doesn’t come.

Always the pessimist, but Miguel can’t help it, really; he’s been chasing something just out of reach for too long.

“You’re gone again.” You say it so quietly he almost misses it. You give him a weary smile, hand clutching at the fabric that pools around him. He watches as you rearrange it by his shoulders, pinching the folds with a kneaded brow. Finally satisfied, you look him in the eye. “Like Ophelia. ”

He doesn’t sigh. He doesn’t scoff, or roll his eyes, or any of the half dozen ways he’s learnt to repress difficult emotions. Slipping under the water - the makeshift waves made of a ratty blanket - passive to his own suffering. You don’t say it, and he hasn’t even told you the half of it; but somehow, you see it . You see him.

He remembers the first time he met you. Thundering and clattering through his space; bulldozing every carefully placed wall he’s spent years putting up. And then he remembers the first time he actually met you; behind the sharp tongue and quick retorts, finding you watery and forlorn on the floor of your shared apartment. Beautiful, of course – always, always beautiful. But that time, the kind of beauty only found in a painting: tragedy captured in oils, careful brushstrokes muddied by time, by loss, by hurt. You’ve been hurting for a while, he thinks, well before any mention of shitty ex-boyfriends and missed lectures.

Miguel recalls late nights spent trying to still his heart, fixated on a sudden, betraying question that rattles around in his head. Are you like him? Do you understand ? Born with something missing, a tick-tick-tick of the count, radioactive and broken and–

Your hand drapes lazily across his chest, tapping and pointing at something on the screen. He hums, non-committal, the words out of your mouth barely registering. It feels familiar. It feels warm. It feels like nights spent on the couch trying not to laugh at your frustratingly witty remarks. He remembers holding his breath when your leg brushed against his; stealing careful glances to his side; trying not to stare at the way the gloom of the TV looks ethereal against you, snug to the slope of your features, cut this way and that.

But more than anything, he remembers wanting to kiss you. God. Maybe he always has.

Rigor Mortis Taglist: @bunnyrose01 @lavenderslemonade @tsukkie-daisuke @malxoxo @thekidscallmebosss @vvitcxen @theyoutubedork @doublevirgogirl @jnghs @taleiak @noblesavagex @cumikering @rebeccawinters @evanpetersrightbigtoe @saucypeanuttt @pix-stuff @maliarenee @truthuntolddd @honeycovered-bandaids @aiyaaayei @aeeliy @amplsblog @sikrettt @opuffmango @spear-bitch @maddielikesmoths @lemonpepsi @sweet-strawberryhoney @lacedinweb22 @bubbsby @jing5uan @ellaandorersoct @hibarbiesblog @valentxi @kittym1ka @delulu-dia @melovetitties @yohoe-hoe @acollectionofcells1 @froggi-mushroom @thund3rthighs

@bonthebunnie @natthernandez @strawberrymiguel @twwcs @mammonispunk @um-well @renn-pumkin-head @ietherealkistar @smallishbook @sonderspider @spear-bitch @cryingintheclubdhmu @mageneire @notdyl4n @slezhara @funkyfoxx0 @smol-beb @iceclaw101 @lixhizy @errorundyne-exe @707xn @beantokki@twentysomethingwereyote

#miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #rigor mortis 😼#miguel o'hara #miguel o hara x reader #kat_writes😼#spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara smut #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #angst #mutual pining

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wynnyfryd · 5 months

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Trailer park Steve AU part 37

part 1 | part 36 | ao3

cw: depression, ptsd, references to canonical death and horror

Chapter 9

December

The smudged feeling comes back.

Which sucks, if he's being honest.

Despite the new thing with Eddie and the breathing room in his budget; despite everything going fine with Robin and work and the kids, his good moods never seem to hold. They keep getting muddied up, can't shine through the grubby handprints that threaten to blot them out.

And sure, it's not like he expected one great make out session to change his life (and it was a great one, to be clear; a great make out session and an even better handy later that night in Eddie’s van), but he just…

Shit.

He doesn’t know.

He thought it might feel easier. Life, adulthood; everything. Like the lightness and warmth he felt that night might carry over, might drift through to fill the cracks in him like a blanket of fresh snow.

But they don't, because they can't.

They can't touch the fact that he has no clue what he’s doing. That Steve Harrington's got no purpose, no direction and no point.

Most mornings he's got nothing but his creeping paranoia and a bone deep sense of dread.

The new year closes in like a wet tongue up the back of his neck; hot breath of a drooling grizzly getting ready to take a bite, and the long winter shadows around his house are growing fangs, rows upon rows of razor teeth in petal mouths.

His nightmares tastes like rot and lilac. Something heavy in the air.

And in the mornings he feels stupid when he wakes up shivering in cold sweat, foolish and young and alone. He clutches at his nail bat and peers through the cracks in the blinds, and he feels like a lunatic because there’s nothing out there. Nothing abnormal. Nothing wrong-side up. Just the shadows and the strays; the scurrying of house mice and the skitter of dead leaves.

It’s over now, they told him. It’s over, kid. We won.

They said it all three times.

—

"Uh...”

Eddie's standing in Steve's doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms loosely folded over his chest, a weird smile on his face like he's deeply fucking confused by what he's seeing but is trying so hard to be cool about it.

Which, like. Fair.

It's mid-morning on a Sunday and Steve is crawling on hands and knees in his gutted disaster of a living room — ripping up the edges of his terrible burnt orange carpet without even pausing to say hello — and the kids will be here any minute to help put up the Christmas tree, and he hadn't meant to do this; knows he looks completely manic, sweat dripping into his eyes, knuckles bleeding from the tack strips, but he woke up trembling from another nightmare and decided that everything had to go.

The nightmare felt too real. Long claws and sharp teeth, squelching muck and snaking vines; a flash of Chief Hopper bloody and shorn in a frozen wasteland, but the chief is dead and everyone's dead and Steve is so tired of being haunted by their ghosts, and in his shaken, post-dream haze he convinces himself that it's this place.

This place is the fucking problem.

This godforsaken tin can with spirits crawling in the walls.

They're clinging on like static just before a thunderstorm. In the floorboards, in the rug. Steve can feel them with each step. How many footprints buried themselves in these worn fibers? How many exhausted treks to the fridge and frenzied rushes to the phone; how many angry late-night pacers and visitors overstaying a welcome?

"Stevie?" Eddie clears his throat.

Steve just wants them all gone. The whole haunted circus — wants to strip it to the bones, start fresh with something new.

So far all he’s done is make the place smell like his nightmares. Like dust and death and lilac as he pulls the carpet up. There’s an oily stain on the subfloor from where he smashed his mom’s perfume, and a green-black mystery splotch by the kitchen that could be water damage, or it could be the remnants of a liquified rat. Or a person; so many people, melted meat monster smashing through the city blood and gore in a demodog's jowls the walls pulsing with membranes like some fucked up rotten womb and—

"Hey." Eddie's boots come into view. Calm commandment in his tone, stepping right into Steve's space. "Look at me," he sighs.

Steve sits back and wipes his brow. The sweat stings his cut-up hands, and he wishes he weren't so busy being a nutcase, because Eddie looks good like this. Standing over him, petting a hand through his damp hair. Making him kneel down at his feet. It’s hot. They could do something with this. Steve could—

"You want to tell me what you're doing?"

Tears prick up in Steve's dumb eyes.

What's he supposed to say? There were ghosts in the fucking carpet?

He shakes his head and sniffs, and Eddie steps in a little closer; moves his hand to cup Steve's jaw. "No?" he lifts a brow.

Outside, tires crunch over the gravel, the kids making a racket as they pour out of the Wheelers’ car. Goddammit.

Steve huffs and gets to his feet; lets Eddie steady him. They share a look. The kids are shouting on the lawn. "Can you take us to Home Depot?"

—

part 38

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

#trailer park steve au #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 5 months

Text

yes or no?, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader, slight yoongi x reader

summary: Jeon Jungkook is distraught to know he can't jack off. After all, he spent all that money to complete his tattoo sleeve. He wasn't about to ruin all that hard work just for a quick nut. But it's going to take a while to heal. Days – no, weeks! – with no masturbating. Waaah! Why did he pick his right arm?! Thankfully, noona to the rescue... right? RIGHT?!

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; slight crack b/c JK's POV; JK is whipped, welp; smut (fem reader, minor D/s dynamics, sexual fantasies, heavy petting / teasing, cock-and-ball torture, finger sucking, spit kink, handjob / m-masturbation, edging / orgasm denial, hair-pulling kink, nipple play, m-receiving oral, multiple orgasms, mentioned forearm kink); noona!reader; pleasure is JK-focused and JK's POV

'magic-8' ball noona is back! no need to read, just know there's a yoongi x reader x jk sex triangle and they're roommates :D

Jeon Jungkook was in pain, horny, and depressed.

On the plus side, his tattoo sleeve was almost completed!

Woohoo!

Sigh, no, he still felt like throwing himself into a wall and sliding down to become an unmoving puddle of goo. So tired. He always felt like this after the adrenaline of a long tattoo session. Session days were fun while he was in the studio hanging out with the tattoo artist, even for hours on end. He had brought his own snacks, plenty of water, and pain medication. The artist had even brought lunch for him – probably because Jungkook was spending a LOT of money covering up some old tattoos he ragretted regretted, but hey! Free food! Jungkook was always happy to receive free meat!

Wait. That sound weird.

Eh.

Anyway.

He sighed as he fumbled with his keys, trying to use his left hand as much as possible. Today, the artist had worked on his right forearm and filling in his elbow with black. The skin there was irritated and covered in plastic, which made it annoying to do common tasks he noticed. Great. Another day of not getting off. Yeah, Jungkook loved getting tattoos but it made him grumpy that he couldn’t just jerk off whenever he wanted.

What?!

It was a legitimate reason to be grumpy, dammit.

Why did Jungkook pick his right arm for his tattoo sleeve? Simple. He had no foresight and tattoos were permanent. Whoops. (He was not an idiot. Trust.) He finally got the key into the lock and turned it. His life wouldn’t be so hard (keke) if it wasn’t for his current living arrangements. To be clear, he really did love living in Kim Seokjin’s house full of his friends. There was just one problem. One very sexy problem.

He opened the door cautiously, wondering if he would hear moaning today.

Silence.

Whew.

The house smelled really good though. Like food. Mmmm. Food. Jungkook wandered in, loosely holding onto the strap of his large black bag and stepping out of his shoes, neatly settling them into their spot… to avoid getting scolded later. He was a good boy.

Sometimes.

The current residents of the home were: Kim Seokjin, the owner of the house, actor, and professional whaler in too many games; Kim Taehyung, a fashion model and close friend that had taken over Park Jimin’s spot after Jimin had moved out to work overseas for a while; Min Yoongi, a music producer and quite possibly sex on legs (Taehyung’s words, one had to be there for it to be funny); and the Magic-8 ball noona. The only girl. Also, she was, erm, part of a consensual sex triangle that Jungkook was a member of but he definitely didn’t start it.

Really…!

Anyway.

She had a real name but Jungkook was always going to remember that cursed hunk of plastic denying him twenty-six times. Besides, it was just easier to refer to her as noona since she was the one female and older than him. It was proper and polite. She was only by name when he was on his knees and begging to cum.

Cough.

Anyway!

He made his way into the kitchen carefully. It wasn’t unusual for the house to be fairly quiet as it was quite common for the introverts to split up and occupy themselves with their respective hobbies, especially when Taehyung went out with his friends. Jungkook vaguely remembered Taehyung saying he was going to a sauna with his squad or something like that. Seokjin was probably playing MapleStory in the master bedroom with his headphones on. Something about a new update. He wasn’t coming out unless to eat and even that would be rare. Yoongi and noona… well, they were either fucking or holed up in their respective rooms being creative.

Oh.

Yeah, did he mention the other part of this sex triangle was his sharp-witted, cat-eyed, resting-bitch-face-but-secretly-a-tsundere hyung? And the first place Jungkook witnessed Yoongi and her having sex was the kitchen he was about to walk into? His dick twitched every time he entered the kitchen because of it. He both felt guilty and became aroused by the wrongness of it. Then got more turned on when he remembered that he couldn’t masturbate tonight. Maybe he should just touch himself with his left hand to relieve some pressure. Or make it worse. On purpose.

Ugh, maybe he really was a masochist.

Jungkook rounded the corner and yelped when found himself cornered by his hyung and his noona glaring at him.

“Wah!”

“Oh, look who decided to show up,” his grumpy hyung grumbled.

“There you are,” his mischievous noona mused, waving about a ladle like it was a magic wand. “Sit down, sit down. You must be hungry after a long day.”

“Why didn’t you text? We ended up having dinner without you, hah,” Yoongi hmphed, poking Jungkook in the chest. The older male looked tired and overworked. One glance between the glowing, calm smile to Yoongi’s messy black hair sticking up in every direction. It was pretty clear what went down. RIP, hyung. His hyung was wearing an elegant black silk pajama shirt and matching pants with the waistband slightly askew. Red mark on the fair skin of his exposed collarbone.

Here? Or in her bed? Or in his bed? Or… mine so it smells just like them?

It was an irrelevant thought, as Jungkook rarely slept in his own bed despite having one. He had a bad habit unique quirk of falling asleep wherever he was, whenever he felt the need to sleep. This greatly annoyed Seokjin and made Taehyung laugh. Sometimes Jungkook would wake up with the latter guy sleeping on top of him like a handsome sloth. Just Taehyung things. But most times, Jungkook was in his noona’s bed.

Hey! It was a comfy bed.

Ahem.

Jungkook received another sharp poke and he jumped, stumbling as he was pushed to the kitchen island, extra startled as Yoongi wordlessly pulled out the seat for him. He got a what? look in response, complete with black strands falling over those narrowed dark brown eyes.

“Don’t you have to be careful about your arm, especially the first night?” Yoongi puffed. “Don’t get used to it.”

“O-Oh… yeah… t-thanks, hyung.”

Yoongi pretended not to hear and scooted himself towards the stove. She was standing next to a pot on low heat looking remarkably put together in red plaid pajamas. Jungkook plopped his butt onto the tall chair and put his bag on the other, yanking off his beanie. Ruffled his hair quickly to avoid his short black hair looking flat and dumb. He pretended like he wasn’t checking out the way her juicy butt completely filled out the pants and the way they clung to her lush hips. He pretended he didn’t notice that the top was relatively cropped and he could clearly see her amazing waist to ass ratio. He definitely didn’t say anything about how nice it was to see the beautiful curve of her neck due to the cute sheep-shaped claw clip collecting her hair back. And he surely didn’t go completely breathless when she turned around with a steaming bowl, suddenly realizing her pajama shirt was held together by only a single button in the center and she clearly wasn’t wearing a bra. There was a row of buttons; she just hadn’t done them up.

Fuck.

It was violently unfair that she was allowed to look this hot in normal clothes.

She leaned over the counter and placed the bowl in front of him. He could see down her shirt. Damn. Even through the flannel fabric, Jungkook could still see the peaks of her nipples if he really stared. Really, really stared. For maybe ten seconds.

He jumped at the clink of a metal spoon against ceramic.

“You should eat,” she said with an enigmatic smile. Gracefully balanced her chin on the back of her knuckles, her fingers fanned downwards, her elbows resting on the counter to look into his eyes.

Shit, he was smooth melting like butter under that hot gaze.

“Pick your jaw off the floor,” said a gruff voice in Daegu satoori.

Jungkook jolted as crabby Yoongi appeared seemingly out of nowhere – well, he was here the whole time, oop – and cocked an eyebrow at him. Now the older two were both standing side by side, observing him expectantly. It was only then that Jungkook looked down and realized what was in front of him.

“Wait… it’s not my birthday.”

She chuckled. Her eyes sparkled with mirth. Ugh, he loved seeing them directed at him. “Seaweed soup will be good after a long tattoo day. You need nutrients. You need energy. Plus, Yoongi added beef in there for you. There’s some rice too, but not too much because Yoongi said you don’t like having too many carbs before sleeping. More meat, as you like it,” she concluded, using the spoon to show him all the ingredients. “We made it for you. Eat.”

She smiled exactly how the Cheshire cat would grin. He glanced at Yoongi who was staring at his fingernails like they were the most interesting thing in the world. They stood close to each other. No mistaking their closeness. The worst (best?) part was that even though Jungkook knew exactly what had happened while he was gone all those hours, he didn’t find this scene offensive.

In fact, he felt a bit teary from their consideration.

“T-Thanks…”

He took the spoon from her, his inhale hitching as his fingertips brushed against hers. Oh, her hands. Those lovely hands. His gaze shifted up, his heart beating fast. The side of her lips tugged upwards.

A smile turned smirk.

His cock twitched as Jungkook remembered her smirking face grinning up at him with his cum drenched all over her tongue. The last time he had jacked off into her mouth.

Argh!

He had used his left hand, mostly because he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to do the repeated motion of bending his right arm and bringing the utensil to his mouth right now. Hmmmm. He scrunched up his face and wrinkled his nose. It probably wouldn’t be the best idea. He didn’t want to mess up the line work and all that nice color shading. He was already doing the cover ups, after all. Plus, it did hurt a little moving too much. He would just see how far he could get. It was pretty easy since it was soup and the pieces of beef were cut pretty small.

They must have thought of that.

Jungkook tried not to cry grateful tears into his seaweed soup as he heard his hyung and noona busy themselves with cleaning the kitchen, ‘cause that would be utterly embarrassing and not very manly, sniff.

Thankfully, he was saved by his rising boner.

The thing was, Jungkook was pretty sure he wasn’t turned on by pain. Ahem. Okay, maybe a little (lotta) bit. But, time and place! This was precisely why he picked a very cool and very talented male tattoo artist. He could ask questions and be noisy and immature and not feel bad. Jungkook liked female artists but he would get too mentally distracted because he didn’t really know what to talk about, so his mind would end up wandering to another set of hands and then, bam! A not useful boner. Also, he didn’t want to creep anybody out or make them uncomfortable. That would be mean.

But, uh.

Jungkook was beginning to realize he enjoyed and hated these long sessions. He enjoyed them because he very much considered his tattoo artist his friend. He enjoyed them because his close friends were supportive, bought him snacks, and told him he was cool or brave for getting so many tattoos (very important, yup). And, yeah, he liked the repeated stabbing (it was addictive, okay?!). But he also enjoyed them because of how attentive his noona was before and during the aftercare process. She helped him prepare his bag prior to the appointment, would make sure to remind him to keep the area hydrated, make him his favorite meals (meat!), and be the first to help him in case he needed it. As for the hate part…

Ugh, it made him so fucking horny knowing he couldn’t get off without her help.

Yeah, sure, he could use his left hand. But the nut would be pisslow awful and not at all satisfying. Of course, Jungkook could wait and use his right when he felt like it was fine but that wouldn’t be for a while. He didn’t spend all that money to have to explain that he wanted a touch-up because he needed to cum being around a literal sex goddess his noona (not to mention what a mortifying thing to say to his poor tattoo artist that didn’t need to know all that). And there was no way in hell Jungkook was going to avoid his noona during his recovery. She had just made him seaweed soup! Oh, yeah, and Yoongi was there too. Anyway, the forced waiting turned him on even more than usual because there was a real reason behind it. After his first long session, he even clumsily edged himself with his left hand, multiple times, before he asked her to get him off, just so it felt even better when her lips closed around his leaking, desperate cock.

Jungkook choked on some beef.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m – ack! – fine. Totally fine!” he managed to hack out in a very not-fine tone.

“You look like you’re choking,” Yoongi commented matter-of-factly, eerily similar to a narrator of a nature documentary.

“Be careful,” she laughed, coming around the counter to rub his back. Aaaah! Jungkook lifted his right arm slightly and tried to subtly punch his dick down into submission but, as it turned out, his erection was as stubborn as he was. Awesome. Not to mention space was very limited under the counter. Shit. She patted in between his shoulder blades. “Want some water?”

“No, hah, I’m f-fine,” he wheezed, freezing up a little at her touch. He thought he was used to it by now but he really wasn’t, especially when his dick was already halfway up the stairs to heaven. Down to hell to the circle of lust? Whatever. She wasn’t too close, as she was on his right side, but he had enough memories to know how skin-to skin felt, enough times of her breasts pressed to his back and her hands exploring his chest, enough moments of her agile fingers splayed out over his pecs like blooming flowers, running her nails over his skin, flicking his nipples, all the while tracing her tongue along the base of his neck with her hard nipples rubbing against his shivering back…

Okay.

Jungkook was not fine.

“It’s kinda warm…” he mumbled as she moved away.

“That’s because you’re still wearing your jacket and having hot soup,” Yoongi pointed out, putting away some bowls. “Take it off.”

“Want help?”

It was a very innocent suggestion. Thus, Jungkook spent the next minute trying not to reveal that he had popped a boner while eating seaweed soup, sitting up and sticking out his arms like a Ken doll, letting those dreamy, long fingers peel away his oversized white and black racer jacket. Left arm first, then the right, taking care to slide it off, the sleeve cocoon stripping back to reveal the beautiful butterfly that was his fresh, brightly inked right arm.

“Oh? That’s right, you were covering up some big tattoos today, huh?” Yoongi perked up, his raspy voice with a twinge of curiosity, padding over to investigate. Underneath the jacket, Jungkook had worn a closely fitted, white, ribbed tank top. Comfy but wouldn’t get in the way. “Ho, so much color. Quite rockstar of you. You’re become such a cool guy, heh.”

“I wanted the individual images to stand out more and the artist suggested adding some color,” Jungkook clarified, slurping away at his dinner again. “I just trusted him.”

“He did such a good job,” she was saying, delicately holding his hand. Jungkook tried not to melt into a puddle. “The gradient is fantastic. The text here looks cleaner too.”

“Oh, yeah, I asked him to clean up some of my older tattoos too. For consistency.”

He continued munching happily until…

“So, what’s with the boner?”

Jungkook nearly choked again.

“Ay, Yoongi-ssi, leave him alone,” she chided, smacking Yoongi in the butt. Received a scalding squinty side-eye in response but she didn’t seem to give a shit. Nerves of steel. “You know he can’t cum unless I let him.”

Wow, okay, way to broadcast the facts!

“Hey!”

She tilted her head and rubbed the tip of his nose. Open-mouthed smirk included. Gulp. “Am I wrong?”

Against his better judgement, Jungkook pouted. “Noona…”

She patted his thigh. Condescendingly. He intensified his pout but it was futile. “Finish eating, okay? I’ll help you out in the shower…” She winked, devilish. “As usual.”

Yoongi snickered. “Just don’t be too loud.”

“Put on some headphones then,” she countered.

“Oi, I’m not blowing out my eardrums.”

“Then listen,” she hummed, caressing Jungkook’s jeans. “Or watch. No one’s stopping you.”

The bottom of Yoongi’s lips upturned, giving him the expression of a disgruntled cat. “I have to sleep.”

“Oh, like you don’t sleep enough, grandpa.”

“That wasn’t what you were calling me when I had you folded in half under me.”

Jungkook was left to slurp his soup to the sound of their bickering as her hand gently stroked the inside of his thigh. It could be worse. Could be better too, like her unzipping him and establishing dominance by jacking him off at the kitchen island. But Yoongi was not so easily fazed, so she didn’t, and Jungkook cried at (and secretly enjoyed) the feeling of pre-cum soaking through his underwear.

Turns out, he didn’t have to wait that long to enjoy suffering.

Er.

Attention?

Towards the end of his meal was getting a bit annoying to scoop up what was left, so Jungkook put down the spoon to pick up the bowl and drink of the rest of the soup. For a brief second, he was let go and he noticed Yoongi was flicking his hand over his noona’s chest. She grabbed his hand, pulling that scowling face to her into a sudden and tense kiss. Hey, he wasn’t above some adult entertainment while eating. Well, maybe not during the majority of the meal, but Jungkook kept a (big) peeper out. From his periphery, he saw Yoongi slip his hands under her shirt and heard her murmur in satisfaction, trailing kisses over Yoongi’s face. He saw his hyung smile in response, warm and genuine and butterfly-inducing.

Jungkook lowered the bowl slowly as Yoongi opened his eyes.

And winked.

Devilish.

“I’m leaving,” Yoongi suddenly announced, untangling himself and slinking away.

His noona snickered and shook her head. “Okay, nerd.”

Then she turned around and, before Jungkook could say anything about Yoongi running away like a criminal undercover, she revealed that her shirt was now open and fully exposing her perky tits and large, hard nipples.

“Oh!”

Jungkook felt his eyeballs nearly pop out of his skull at the unexpected surprise.

She acted as if they could ever have a normal conversation with her boobs right in front of his face. “So, are you still tired? Just wanna get washed up and go to sleep?”

He tried to answer but from the first word it was impossible. Her pajama shirt was sliding down her perfect shoulders, revealing smooth skin and the flannel fabric cradled her breasts, framing them perfectly. She smelled fresh and fruity, just like her signature lotion scent. Blackberry and vanilla. Her forearms lay against his thighs, forcing his body to turn, and he gasped as her fingers fanned out over his muscular thighs and squeezed them, basically half-crawling into his lap to look up at him, asking her questions in a very leisurely and unbothered tone.

“Tired…?” he echoed, his brain in a completely different dimension. “Wuh?”

Her hands glided up his sides and delicately closed in around his waist. He gasped, stiffening as her touch encased him, feeling the action through the fabric of his tank top. She hummed softly, caressing his waist. Slow. Tender. Not a second of rushing even though blood was rushing straight down into his dick at record speed. He felt her gaze on him and shifted his own to her face, seeing her observe him with lovely eyes that contained all the innocence of a kumiho.

So, none at all.

Her smile reappeared, mysterious and sinful.

Her palm grazed over his tense abdomen and he whimpered under his breath. Or so he thought.

“Feeling good?” she asked serenely.

“Y… Yeah…”

Down. Tracing the button of his jeans. His breath caught in his throat. Fingertip by fingertip, in slow motion, tapping lightly on his bulge. Barely any pressure. Solidly tucked between his legs, her ass sticking out. He would be fine with the other side of the view too. This house needed more mirrors, Jungkook concluded.

“Do you remember why you came to me?”

He stopped staring at her ass as the question registered. He was holding his right arm out and his left elbow was resting on the counter. “In the beginning?”

“Mhm.”

She was now cupping his covered erection and pulsing her grip around it, making his cock throb and leak everywhere. Great. His boxer briefs were a cum-filled mess now, surely. He could feel the squish and the stimulation against the tip. Agonizing pleasure.

His cheeks warmed. “Ah… Yeah… because… my previous girlfriends said I f-fucked like a robot…”

“You think maybe you just weren’t that into them?” she questioned, running her fingertips of her other hand along his back and waist, sending tingles up his spine.

“I…” It was impossible to concentrate. “Ah… Well… A-Aren’t you supposed to fall f-for their personality first…?”

“Is that why you’re into me? My personality?”

Jungkook looked down.

Right at her personali-titties.

He swallowed so hard that he almost choked.

Again.

“Hm?” she mused.

Ripped his gaze from the visual of her prominent nipples hanging down next to his open thighs and into that sly stare that knew everything. Gulp. She continued toying with his crotch, stroking along the length, dipping down to pat the outline of his balls, smirking wider as his cock jerked in his pants. The roar of his heartbeat thundered in his ears. Fuck. It was the power in that gaze. The confidence in her stance. The ability to be below him and be completely, utterly in control. The taste of forbidden fruit, just within reach. The sensation of his whole body being overcome with want and the way she gladly overwhelmed all his senses by her presence alone. She didn’t have to touch him at all. She didn’t have to expose herself. She didn’t have to smell so good. She didn’t have to.

She simply chose to do all those things to drive him even more crazy.

“Yes or no?” she purred.

He could lie, but he was a terrible liar.

“Y… Yes…”

She seemed very satisfied with his response. Slid up between his legs, her hand on his back dropping and gliding up against his chest instead. He shivered, his lips parting as she rose, closer, the warmth of her exhale washing over him, a soft sigh and then their faces close, centimeters from each other with his racing heart under her palm. Her fingers spread out. Her index found his silver chain necklace resting on his collarbones, playing with it with a small smile.

Her other hand was still on top of his hard dick.

Jungkook used to think that there was no way sex could be sexy. The idea of it was sexy. In practice, sex used to be awkward and uncomfortable, but essential to get his rocks off. It felt like something he had to do. But it wasn’t like that, at least with her. Well, he still sometimes felt awkward and uncomfortable, but Jungkook suspected she was doing it on purpose. He didn’t mind though, because she always touched him with such fondness and – maybe this was the delulu talking – but he really didn’t need the sex so much as he needed her to keep looking at him the way she did.

His dick throbbed suddenly in protest.

“Ah–!”

She tilted her head and kissed him.

Placing a chaste kiss right below his lips, the soft press taking his breath away, and then her lips ghosted over his, grabbing a fistful of his tank top and kissing him deeply. Fuck, how he loved her lips. How could he describe them? So fluffy and yet so insistent. Determined, seductive, pulling him to her and sighing, her contented breath filling his lungs and giving him life. His left hand found the collar of her shirt and gripped it tightly, not even realizing he had closed his eyes instinctively, wanting nothing more than to melt into her. Her hair brushed against his cheek and neck. Her scent warmed him, sweet and decadent. Her knuckles pressed into his sternum, unyielding. Her fingers tangled into the silver chain around his neck, possessive.

His brain melted into a puddle of bliss.

He moaned her name into her lips as she parted. She squeezed his inner thigh through his loose jeans. Still, the fabric was too thick for it to be satisfying enough.

“W-Wait…”

“You kinda taste like beef,” she remarked, releasing her hold and patting his chest. “Come on. If we fuck in the kitchen, I’ll have more to clean than your dishes.”

Jungkook felt his cheeks burn. “O… Oh.”

She backed up a step and took way too long to button a single button to cover her breasts again. He spent a good ten seconds gawking at their perky shape and the way her obvious nipples stuck straight out. She acted as if nothing was wrong, lingering between his spread-open thighs.

“You have to shower quickly, right? Go get started and I’ll come wash your back.”

“But, n-noona–!”

Her hand flew up and landed at the base of his neck. Thumb to one side, four fingers on the other. Jungkook froze.

She cocked an eyebrow.

Then she smirked.

His pulse hammered in his throat, so close to being constricted.

“Are you saying you’re flexible enough to wash your own back now?”

Jungkook shook his head so fast his vision blurred. “Nope. I’m weak. Help. I can’t take off my clothes either. Owie. It hurts so much.”

“Mmmm, very convincing.” She didn’t sound convinced. At all.

Damnnit.

“Gah!”

She gave him an exasperated look. “As if I haven’t seen you naked before.”

Minutes later, Jungkook found himself sitting in the bathtub, puffing his cheeks as he washed his hair with his left hand and felt the bath sponge rub against his back. Ah. She was leaning over the side of the tub, holding onto his left shoulder and rubbing circles into his back. Aaaah. He had left the plastic on his right arm for now, intending to remove the tape as his last step so he could rinse it off with a gentle, unscented cleanser. The water was lukewarm. Not the greatest, but he didn’t want to steam up the bathroom. It would be bad for the tattoos.

“U-Um… noona?”

“Hm?”

She rubbed down to his lower back. He sat up straighter. There was a wet towel blanketed over his crotch. Not really for any reason other than cold. Yeah. Anyway. She leaned over and kept going, massaging him at the same time. He gasped as she pressed the base of her palm into his muscle and kneaded.

“I… uh… about what I said earlier…”

“Mhm.”

He jumped a little but she was just leaning over to grab the detachable showerhead, adjusting the water to the correct temperature. “I hope… I hope I didn’t offend you or anything. I do like your personality a lot. You’re assertive and funny and you always remember stuff I like,” Jungkook rambled, lowering his left hand. His right was slightly hanging off the edge of the tub to keep it out of the way. Of course, he scrubbed his armpits before she came in. It would have been rude not to clean all the important bits first.

She rinsed off his back. “I’m not worried,” she chuckled.

“Oh, okay.”

“I don’t mind that you’re shallow. It’s flattering, coming from a hot guy like you.”

“That’s good – wait, what?!”

She sprayed the top of his head and sent him into sputters.

“Ah!”

She grabbed his shoulder, quickly and vigorously rinsing off his hair before pulling the showerhead away and turning off the water. Not before spraying him in the chest though. Jungkook found himself with his drenched hair flat against his forehead, making him unable to see. He felt like a wet dog. He almost wiggled away – until her arm slid down and rested against his chest, her other hand slipping under his wet hair and pushing it back, laughing playfully as she spoke.

“Oh, Jungkook. You’re so silly. Don’t worry about nothing,” she sighed, petting his head.

He couldn’t say anything.

Mostly because her tits were now pressed against the top of his back.

Oh, fuck. Her large, soft nipples rubbed against his shoulders. And her breasts, ooh, so plushy. “Everyone knows you like my personality.” So bouncy. Mmmm. “Just like how everyone knows you’ve been thirsting after me since day one.” No, it was more like first thirty seconds of seeing her. “Just like how everyone knows you’re a pain slut.”

Her breasts pressed against his shoulders.

Wait.

What did she say?

She plucked the towel away from his crotch and locked her fingers around his package.

“AAH!”

She slapped a hand over his mouth and pinned him to her body, crouching over him. It was then – how could it be only THEN – that Jungkook’s brain fully registered that she was topless. Possibly bottom-less too! Not only was she naked but also she was roughly massaging his balls with his rapidly hardening length trapped between her thumb and index finger, essentially making a cock ring with her two fingers and a ball cage with the rest. He gasped, rolling his head back onto her shoulder, moaning behind her hand as her touch switched between caress and choking his balls. There was no water in the tub as the drain wasn’t pushed down.

Her hand changed from covering his mouth to slipping two fingers into his lips.

“See? You like this,” she whispered, sultry and low.

He tried to gurgle out, n-no way, but he was too busy lifting his hips and thrusting upwards, trying to get the friction he so urgently desired but couldn’t achieve. She dragged her nails across his balls and his eyelids fluttered, sucking on her fingers, spit trickling past his lips and down his chin, his moan echoing in the bathroom when she finally closed her grip around his aching cock, pumping slow, running a fingertip over the head, slicking out the pre-cum leaking out.

“P-Please…” he whined.

“You gotta get out now,” she reminded him.

“No, please…”

She slowly thrust her fingers into his mouth, rubbing his tongue. “You should wait longer, shouldn’t you?” He tried to shake his head but he couldn’t, his hips bucking as her speed increased. “Don’t want you to get sweaty and all that.” Fuck, please, he wanted to scream and nearly did when she let go and lightly smacked around his stiff erection, slapping his cock against his tense inner thighs. It bounced around, the head dark red, aching for release. He was so hard that his cock popped right back into position, sticking straight upwards between his spread legs. “Do you really think you’ve been a good boy?” His own saliva was dripping down his chin. How did she get this level of desperation out of him so easily? She held his shaft up with only the back of her thumb and firmly smacked his balls, rapid and light, making him cry out and squirm. “Hold it up.”

“N-Noona, please…”

“Hold it up if you want me to suck your dick,” she ordered calmly.

The thrill raced up his spine. His hair was dripping, droplets down his cheeks and neck. This was it. This electric, intense feeling that seemed to control him, his hand ghosting down to wrap around his twitching length, gasping sharply when her fingers left his mouth. She cupped his chin instead, tilting his head up and now they were looking at each other, only for a moment, her sparkling eyes rich with passion, intoxicating pleasure snaking up his core as he melted under her hot gaze.

This was the feeling Jungkook always wanted.

She lowered herself down. He stared at the ceiling as she teased his balls, moaning and lazily stroking his cock as she slapped them, dragged her fingernails over them, squeezed them. Spit on him. He whimpered, teasing the underside of the swollen head of his cock, more, flinching as she spat on him again, gasping as she dug her nails into the sensitive area behind his balls, coaxing himself to the edge and then stopping, building the frustration.

She kissed his hot cheek.

“You’re doing so good,” she murmured into his ear, licking it softly.

Her right hand closed around his left and they edged him together, their fingers laced, her teeth on the curve of his ear and his moan radiating off the tiles. Long, deep strokes, building up the speed. So good. Tight, rapid pace, close, his chest rattling, so close, his eyes rolling back when her hand clamped around the base of his aching cock and squeezed hard, cutting off the high and colliding him into the mental wall, his dismayed cry drowned out by her lips devouring his.

Fuck!

Was he going to get to bust a nut or not?!

“Please, don’t.”

He put on his best pout as she held the Magic-8 ball in front of her body. Still wearing her black seamless panties, but that was it. She was lightly sitting on his thighs, straddling him on the bed as she shook it teasingly.

“Noona, come on…”

“Why not? It’ll be fun.”

She lowered it and Jungkook gasped as the black plastic ball touched his chest, wiggling uncomfortably as she rolled it back and forth. Foreign and cold. It warmed up against his skin. She leaned over him, not adding more pressure, but giving a great full-frontal view with her breasts trapped between her upper arms.

“It won’t be fun for me,” he whined, gripping the sheets tightly.

He reached up to squeeze her breasts, using his left hand, shuddering as he felt her hard nipples against his palm, looking up to see her tongue dance at the edge of her smirk, her tousled hair trailing down her shoulder. That had been the game before. He would ask to have sex. She would shake the Magic-8 ball and get his answer – resulting in twenty-six straight refusals from that evil children’s toy. Unlucky? Maybe. Cursed? More likely. Extra cursed because it was Park Jimin who purchased and gifted her the thing.

Grr.

Jungkook was still pissed about that.

She tilted her head, sending part of her face into delicious shadow.

“We can make it a little game.”

His hand slid down her arm and covered hers.

“No games,” he begged, catching the edge of his lower lip with his teeth. Her eyes shifted down. He was playing all his cards. She muttered under her breath, hah, I love that underlip mole of yours, how can I resist a lip bite, fuck, and those cute, round, big brown eyes… all while lowering herself to him, drawn to his plea, releasing her hold on the Magic-8 ball.

She rolled it on his chest and into his open hand.

“Okay. No games.”

She kissed him again.

A claim to his lips. Soft and insistent, working him into a frenzy, making him grip that hard plastic ball tightly as his breathing shallowed, moaning as her tongue slid in, out, in, out. He felt her hands frame his head, crowning him with her fanned-out fingers. Tingling as her thumb rubbed across his temple. His jaw. His earrings, toying with them, nipping at his lower lip and sucking on it, her warm body settling between his legs, soft to hard, rubbing up against him.

Fuck.

Fuuuuck.

She pulled on his hair roughly and his lip slipped from her teeth due his own whimper, gasping hotly as her kisses danced down his throat, then running her tongue over the trail of kisses. She had a hand planted onto his chest to prevent him from arching his back, lapping at his collarbones daintily as she tugged at a fistful of his still damp hair. Sparks of pain showering down from the crown od head meeting the maddening bliss of her lips on his chest, traveling, decorating his clavicle, each mark of her teeth mirroring the redness of a fallen rose petal.

He tried to lower his chin and shuddered against the hurt, making better and worse at the same time, opening his eyes as she let go of his hair, seeing her sliding down his torso.

That ass.

He felt a nip at his nipple and his breathing hitched, snapping down to see her looking up at him, expression highly amused.

“Pretty nice ass, huh?”

No one said she was humble.

He grinned. “Yeah, I should take a pic and make it my phone background.”

She chuckled, running her tongue over his hard nipple and Jungkook shivered, transfixed by the image and the simultaneous surge of pleasure. He lifted his head higher off the pillow. Shallow breaths, watching, the glossy tip of that dexterous pink muscle against his dark nipple, her lips closing around it, feeling his body stiffen as he felt the sucking sensation vibrate through him. The moan bubbled in his tightened chest as she gently bit, licked, sucked, alternating between the actions. Her fingernails dragged over his sides and flexed abs, electrifying his skin with the pressure. He flinched when she released him and replaced the rough play with kisses, moving across his chest to do the same to his other nipple.

She glanced at him, witnessing his perverse enjoyment with a knowing glint in her eye.

He clutched the Magic-8 ball at his side with in his left hand, falling back into the pillow moaning, writhing slightly as the sucking intensified. Her hand slid down, stroking the inside of his thigh. He could barely feel the side of his half-hard cock brush against the back of her hand.

“F-Fuck… please…”

His entire body jolted when she popped her lips off him and sealed her work with a kiss.

“You’re so impatient, Jungkook,” she hummed, pressing her tongue flat to his nipple and rubbing roughly, saliva sticking to his skin. “So needy.”

His mind was spinning. Blood running hot under his skin, body uncontrollably quivering, clutching the sheets and the Magic-8 ball for dear life. The pent-up arousal was driving him insane but, as a wise man once said, gotaa go insane to stay sane. Or something like that. Jungkook couldn’t remember any wise proverbs right now. He was too horny. She was rising, re-clipping her hair with that cute sheep-shaped claw clip, keeping it out of her smirking face.

“Y-Yes, I am needy… a-ah… please…”

Slipping down, down.

She pressed her palms into the innermost part of his thighs, spreading her fingers over his crotch, and swallowed his cock.

He moaned so loud that Min Yoongi surely heard.

Hey.

No one said Jeon Jungkook was subtle.

Especially when being pleasured.

Immediately his cock swelled at her up-and-down motion that came with tongue and lips and a tight, wet, warm throat that pushed him in as deep as possible. He was always somewhat shocked at how easily she maneuvered him without her hands, preferring instead to use only her mouth to take him all the way to the base and lick at his balls, her constricting throat suffocating the thick head of his cock, and then back up, running the sensitive skin over the roof of her mouth and closing her lips around the tip tighter, teasing the underside of the slit with deft flicks. Then, again, swallowing his growing length, molding her tongue to his girth, slathering saliva over his balls.

God, Jungkook loved the bed suck.

She had an immaculate level of control when giving a blowjob on the bed. He didn’t have to do anything but lay back and relax, occasionally looking down to follow her head movements and see his length glistening in between her plush lips, then collapsing again as the erotic euphoria overtook him again, his chest fluttering with the intensity, his core tightening, lost in lust. He completely forgot the itchiness of his right arm. The colors were brighter under the overhead light and the lotion he had applied right before getting into bed, a sharp contrast to her bare arm against his hip, her elegant hand nestled up his side, her perfect round ass in the air. His pants blending into moans, floating on cloud nine from her tight, soft mouth and agile tongue, wondering how the fuck he got this lucky.

She’s basically a porn star in bed, Park Jimin once said.

She paused when she noticed him watching her again. Extended her pink tongue past her lips, slapping his balls and scooping them up against the base of his cock, raising an eyebrow at him.

Damn.

Truer words had never been spoken.

Then – thankfully – she returned her attention to his cock, except this time it was tighter, faster, and he gasped, feeling her push the head up and force it deeper into her throat when she descended, oh, fuck, he could see her breasts bouncing too, those perfect nipples, damn, obvious wet noises drowned out by the more obscene sounds he was making, crying out, moaning, the pace intense and deliberate and racing, and the only way he could describe it was as if somehow her mouth had become a warm, wet sleeve for his twitching cock, powerfully massaging his length all over, close, his eyes rolling back.

There.

He groaned as he shot into her suffocating throat, wanton and pathetic, finally, his mind going blank, pumping thick cum into that tight pocket and whining as she swallowed, fuck, finally, her pinning his flinching hips down as his shuddering length jerked again, another vicious throb and dripping cum, tears stinging the edge of his vision, gasping out her name as the apex of pleasure consumed his nerves and set them alight.

Fucking finally.

He felt his orgasm squish into the back of her tongue and around the aching head of his cock and he moaned. Long and loud and pornographic. He felt himself twitch in her mouth. She brought him down, slow and wet, a low hum vibrating from her throat to his cock to his core.

Jungkook panted.

Tension shimmered throughout his chest and limbs, keeping him breathless.

Wait.

Her tongue rubbed against the underside of his girth, fanning out along the pulsing, abused head, sending racing sparks over his ass and up his spine.

Wait a second.

Her fingertips glided over his slick balls, squeezing them and making him shudder at the shocking bliss.

I’m still hard.

He yelped, snapping his head down, but it was too late, too late to stop, the afterglow of his last orgasm building towards another, her head sliding up and down, her lips flush to his glossy shaft, him whimpering while he watched, shivering at the lewd image and the idea of back-to-back orgasms, so good, fuck, she looks so good and it feels so fucking amazing, the addictive adrenaline spiking, the lasting buzz radiating all over, oversensitivity increasing the forbidden pleasure, tight and wet and soft, taking him as so deep his balls slapped into her chin, the muscles of his body flexed and tense, hard underneath the soft.

His second orgasm slammed into him.

His head fell back and the pleasure swarmed him, knocking the air out of his lungs, drawing out his lustful moan, his heartbeat roaring in his ears. Her name tumbled out of his lips, praises, swears, her name again, the words mixing together on his confused tongue. She swallowed again, loud to his ears, so obvious, and he trembled all over. The sharp spasm of ecstasy left him rattled, whining, feeling her licking him again but tender, even more gentle this time, slurping around his softening cock, the sensitive skin prickling and pulsating under her warm tongue.

“So… fuck… s-so fucking good…”

Oh, how he loved the feeling of her lips and those kisses feathering his thighs, his crotch, his cock, his balls, shivering in delight, all his previous frustrations making it everything so much more satisfying.

Uh.

He didn’t just think that.

Shit.

“Man, you’re loud.”

“Gah!”

“Hey, Yoongi.”

She planted herself on top of his drenched cock, laying out all over him with her hands on his chest and shoulder. Jungkook gawked at her and then at his hyung standing there at her open bedroom door, looking around at the pastel sheep plushies decorating her room and pausing at the pink bunny and tuxedo cat plush sitting on her desk. Then those dark brown orbs moved back to her ass leaning against Jungkook’s still trembling thigh.

“You could have taken off your panties,” he grumbled in his low voice.

She turned her head to look back at Yoongi. “Sorry. I didn’t think about it since I wasn’t going to get any tonight. I didn’t know you would be watching.”

Her words made Jungkook frown. “What do you mean, you aren’t getting any?”

She faced him again, raising her eyebrows. “What are you talking about? We shouldn’t push it. You’ll get too sweaty.”

“But, noona, that’s not fair, I could…?”

Silence.

A bird cawed outside.

“Use you left hand?” Yoongi snorted. “Meh.”

She smiled. “I’ll wait. I can be patient.”

Yeah, well, guess who couldn’t be patient?

As the youngest, he protested. “You could use my thigh. Or… Or my forearm! You like that!”

“No, no. I’m fine with waiting.”

“You’re doing this on purpose! You’re torturing me by not letting me feel you cum!”

Jungkook paled as his hyung and noona grinned at the same time. Deviously. In unison. Scary as fuck. Yoongi leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, his long black hair framing his cunning eyes and open-mouthed smirk, serving every bit the allegations of being sex on legs. Jungkook trembled as he felt her trail her fingers along the base of his neck, sensually rubbing his collarbone. Thumb on one side, four fingers on the other. Not moving up but reminding him nonetheless.

“Whatever gave you that impression?” she drawled.

They were in cahoots.

Not that Jungkook minded.

That was how he got this lucky in the first place.

The Magic-8 ball rested against his naked hip, the window reading, without a doubt.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook smut

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rinhaler · 6 months

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Alexa, play - WUSYANAME - by Tyler, The Creator

✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors. ✧. ┊ boyfriend!Yuuji Itadori x f!reader x bully!Megumi Fushiguro

Yuuji Itadori = the love of your life and best boyfriend you've ever had. He loves giving head and he's a total sweetheart. You thought his best friend Megumi would be just as sweet when he joined your art class. But, ugh, he's the worst!

disclaimer: this series is a re-upload from my old blog @fuwushiguro ! warnings will be added accordingly per chapter ♡ I'm going to upload chapters weekly until they're all moved from there to here !

chapter one: What Is Your Name, What Do You Bring?

18+, consensual sex, oral, face sitting, aftercare, disrespecting sex workers.

chapter two: Drown In Some Syrup

18+, consensual sex, oral, disrespecting sex workers, bullying.

chapter three: We Groove and We Dance

18+, dubcon/noncon, consensual dry humping, bullying, fingering, drugging, choking, degradation, bladder failure (NOT piss kink), vomiting, marking??? clubbing.

chapter four: Think Slow, ‘Cause I Move Fast

18+, exhibitionism, semi public, fingering, bullying, drugging mentions, bladder failure mention, vomiting mention, praise kink, brief fainting (ish).

Chapter Five: The Root Of The Apple

18+, panic attack, mental health issues, alcohol consumption, drug taking, bullying, drugging mention, bladder failure mention, marking mention, family drama.

Chapter Six: Smell Some Perfume, Head In The Wind

18+, (kinda) panic attack, cocaine use, familial issues, handjob, misogyny, dry humping (a little??).

Chapter Seven: We Can Sit and Talk, Baby, Get It Off

18+, consensual sex, sleepy slow sex, praise kink, water infection mention, sleeping difficulties, alcohol consumption, smoking, panic attack mention, drugs mention, family drama, arranged marriage mention, bullying.

Chapter Eight: It’ll Probably End With Me Being Forgot

18+, consensual sex, face sitting, praise kink, drug taking, bullying.

Chapter Nine: We Can Switch Off

18+, long distance relationship, slight intimidation and name calling, relationship pressure, family difficulties.

Chapter Ten: Get Your Passport, 'Cause We Runnin' Off

18+, PG chapter tbh, daddy kink mention??, attempted/thwarted bullying.

Chapter Eleven: One Minute, It's a Beautiful Scene

18+, PG chapter tbh!

Chapter Twelve: I Pick a Tail Number and We Could Be Tourists

18+, alcohol consumption, arguing, name calling, strong language lmao, PG chapter tbh!

Chapter Thirteen: I Got Your Bitch Movin'

18+, alcohol consumption, drug consumption, infidelity, gaslighting, manipulation, paranoia.

Chapter Fourteen: Bright Light, I'm Like a Moth

18+, dubcon, alcohol consumption, drug consumption, infidelity, gaslighting, manipulation, paranoia, degradation, handjob (m+f receiving), oral (f receiving), overstimulation.

Chapter Fifteen: Tell Me Where The Piece Go, 'Cause I'm Lost

18+, drinking, pining, arguing, etc.

Chapter Sixteen: I Think That I Got What You Need

18+, phone sex, praise kink, sex toys, substance abuse, pining, slut shaming, arguing, family drama??, etc.

Chapter Seventeen: I Value The Times That I Take You Out

18+, pet names, cheating, arguing, family drama, cocaine use, depression, (sort of suicide discussion), pining.

Chapter Eighteen: Call Me If You Get Lost

18+, pet names, cheating, family drama, smokin' weed!!, depression, blowjob, fingering, pining

929 notes · View notes

heartlilith · 6 months

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Self Care

Self Care for the signs; use your moon sign & house placement (transit moon and house placement work as well, you can even use your venus sign if you're feeling up to it)

*TW: mental health disorders are talked about throughout

ARIES MOON/ARIES VENUS/1H MOON/1H VENUS: For these natives, I imagine a lot of energy swirling around the head and face. Stress can lead to overthinking, headaches, acne breakouts, and in more serious cases; vertigo, migraines, and hair loss. Exercise can really help these placements dispense of all the extra energy. It doesn't have to be something intense like body building or running miles (although it can be), it can be as simple as walking in nature or playing a sport with friends. Playing catch with your dog or playing a game of basketball. Other than exercise, Aries and 1st house placements can benefit from a spa day; whether at an actual spa or at home doing a skin care routine and a face mask. Guided meditation is great for these placements too in order to quiet the mind chatter. One last simple thing these natives can practice is turning off their phone for an hour a day; they're so involved in the world around them and sometimes that's a good thing but other times it can be very draining. Tune out the world and tune into your body.

TAURUS MOON/TAURUS VENUS/2H MOON/2H VENUS: Stressed out Taurus and 2nd house placements can struggle with their self esteem whether that shows up as arrogance or insecurity (Moon and Venus here can signify fluctuating self esteem). They also tend to hold a lot of stress in their shoulders creating soreness or even bad posture. Extreme stress can cause these natives to either withhold or indulge in things; usually in terms of food, money, or material possessions. This can lead to disordered eating, stinginess, overspending or possessiveness over their belongings, they do this to feel a sense of control in the midst of chaos. Taurus/2nd house placements would benefit from a massage either at a spa or from a loved one. Since the 2nd house rules over material possessions it's important for these people to reconnect with their element; Earth. Connecting with the Earth can look like gardening or caring for house plants, playing with animals, a simple walk outside, or nourishing their body with fresh fruits and vegetables. Since the 2nd house and Venus rules all things pleasurable, playing up the senses can really benefit these natives. Soft blankets, nice smelling candles or aromatherapy, listening to relaxing music, eating sweets or drinking warm tea are all things these placements can do to relax.

GEMINI MOON/GEMINI VENUS/3H MOON/3H VENUS: Gemini and 3rd house placements are very efficient people, normally. They are great multitaskers and great socializers. Stress with these placements usually shows up mentally at first then it starts to effect them physically. Their body is directly effected by their emotions, like Virgo. Stress can show up as restlessness, anxiety, shakiness or in more serious cases; anxiety attacks, becoming withdrawn, and dermatillomania (Gemini rules hands). In order for these natives to relax, they must take their air energy and create something tangible with it. Journaling is a great way to do this, also painting or blogging. Since Gemini rules the hands, a lot of stress can be relieved by keeping them busy. Knitting, crocheting, video games, playing instruments (double points if these activities connect the brain and hands in some way). Gemini and 3h placements would also benefit from breathing exercises, reading nonfiction books (Geminis love to learn), or even just venting about their problems to a trusted friend.

CANCER MOON/CANCER VENUS/4H MOON/4H VENUS: For people with Cancer or 4th house placements, stress can show up primarily through emotions (surprising I know). Cancer feels all the feels, good or bad. Stress can show up and create sadness, anger, anxiety, pessimistic behavior and being on edge. In worse cases; depression, an anxiety disorder, and rumination. In terms of self care, it's important for Cancer/4th house placements to get in touch with their inner child. This can be achieved by spending time with children, looking back at photos with happy memories, blowing bubbles, watching their favorite children's movie or eating their favorite meal growing up. Since the 4th house also rules family, spending time with blood or chosen relatives is important too (even pets!). Since Cancer is a water sign, taking a bath and staying hydrated are great forms of self care for these individuals. To cater to their nurturing side, taking care of someone else (a relative, loved one, a pet, even a plant) can help them forget their own problems which is great but if this is the only thing they do it can create a habit of avoidance to their own problems. One last thing Cancer/4th house placements can do for self care is cook themselves a hardy meal since Cancer rules the stomach and because, well, they deserve it.

LEO MOON/LEO VENUS/5H MOON/5H VENUS: For Leo and 5th house natives, stress can show up and drain these peoples' sunny disposition; like clouds covering the Sun. Stress can lead to them becoming uninspired, unmotivated, lazy and even bitter. In more extreme cases, Leo/5th house placements can slip into depression, ice out loved ones and hobbies, and become unsure of themselves - which leads to a lowering of self esteem and makes them second guess who they are. High blood pressure and heart palpitations isn't uncommon when these people deal with extreme stress over a long period of time. In order to relieve this stress, Leo/5th house placements can benefit from acupuncture or cupping (Leo rules the back and spine), a massage, or even reiki as a form of self care in order to move their stagnant energy around. Exploring somewhere new, going to an art museum, or going out with friends to a party or out to eat can inspire these natives and get them motivated to create again. Other forms of self care for Leo/5th house placements is reciting affirmations in the mirror daily, affirmations they know to be true about themselves. Pampering themselves in some way can boost their self esteem; whether that be getting their hair done, going shopping, or treating themselves to their favorite meal. Practicing self care for these natives is extremely important in order to keep their sun shining.

VIRGO MOON/VIRGO VENUS/6H MOON/6H VENUS: Virgo, virgo, virgo, always worrying your pretty little head off. I can say this btw I'm a Virgo moon and know this all too well. This goes for 6th House placements too, they are the busy bodies of the zodiac. Like Gemini and 3rd house placements, Virgo and 6th house placements feel stress mentally first and then physically. Stress can make them physically ill; stomach aches especially. When these natives are stressed, it shows up physically as digestive issues, stomach aches, disordered eating and even skin picking (dermatillomania). Mentally, these people can become cold and short with others. Virgo and 6th house placements can also become reactive to situations and look at things quite negatively. In my opinion, it's hard for Virgos and 6th house placements to get in the habit of self care since they are very sacrificial and put people before themselves. They also have a million and one things to do and want to get them done or else they can't relax. Self care for these people should be activities where they can unwind while still feeling productive. Exercise in any form is great for these natives because they love health and wellness. Yoga in all forms is PERFECT for Virgo/6th house placements since they're the epitome of mind, body, and soul (what effects their mind, effects their body, and then effects their soul). One last self care activity for these people is reading a book. Learning and relaxing? A Virgo/6th house placement's DREAM.

LIBRA MOON/LIBRA VENUS/7H MOON/7H VENUS: Libra and 7th house placements become stressed when things aren't harmonious. Relationships, work, their health - if it's not balanced, they really feel it. Stress for these people can show up as acne breakouts, becoming unmotivated, neglecting their physical appearance, and passive aggressiveness. In more extreme cases, these individuals can isolate themselves, be on the verge of tears all the time, and become volatile. Self care comes in the form of facials, baths, getting dressed up for a date. Libra/7th house placements want to look and feel good. Buying gifts for themselves or receiving gifts (big or small); especially clothes, makeup, skincare products, hair care, jewelry, candles, etc. Like Taurus/2nd house placements, they like things that satisfying their senses. Other forms of self care for these natives are spending time or talking one-on-one with a friend, family member, or partner whether that's for receiving advice, venting, or simply distracting them from their issues.

SCORPIO MOON/SCORPIO VENUS/8H MOON/8H VENUS: Scorpio/8th house placements feel stressed when they're lacking connection; emotional, physical, mental or spiritual. They might not like to admit it but they need a shoulder to cry on too. These people are also prone to mood swings so sometimes it's hard to pinpoint why they're feeling the way they do. These natives feel emotions strongly, just like the other water signs and house placements. Stress can show up as a low libido, dark eye circles from lack of sleep, and anger that comes on fast. In more extreme cases, they can experience depression, intrusive thoughts, and develop phobias. In order for Scorpio/8th house natives to relax, they need to channel their emotional energy. This can be hard, especially because sometimes they don't even know what's wrong or what exactly is stressing them out. Writing, painting, sculpting, any form of art is extremely beneficial to these people because even if they can't put a finger on why they're feeling a certain way, they can still express it in other ways. Other forms of self care can include taking a shower, swimming, taking a bath - anything that connects them back to their element. Having sex, reinventing themselves through dying their hair or changing up their wardrobe, and even witchcraft can help them incredibly. Diving into taboos and embracing them can do wonders for these people.

SAGITTARIUS MOON/SAGITTARIUS VENUS/9H MOON/9H VENUS: Do Sag placements even get stressed out..? Just kidding of course they do! These natives become stressed when they feel trapped, bored, and stagnant. You can always tell when they feel a certain way because they will tell you, bluntly and unapologetically. Sagittarius/9th house placement's symptoms of stress is restlessness, becoming impulsive, and being straight up mean. These placements need stimulation and will do things, good or bad, to get it. Self care comes in forms of traveling, learning, and winning. Whether down the street or to a different country, these natives benefit from exploring somewhere new. To them self care is indulging in their wants, and they WANT to explore new places and learn new things. Eating their favorite country's cuisine, going to a new place (a store or a park or a vacation), or reading a book are all forms of self care for them. Sagittarius/9th house placements would even benefit from planning a vacation even if they never take it. Other forms of self care for these individuals is playing board games or sports with friends, gambling (in moderation), eating good food, having a few drinks, throwing a party. They need to indulge, just a little bit.

CAPRICORN MOON/CAPRICORN VENUS/10H MOON/10H VENUS: These natives will never let you know that they're stressed out because they can handle it, they can handle anything and everything all the time, right? NO, but they want to be able to which creates more stress - they literally stress about stress. For them, stress can show up as feeling tightness and soreness in their body, lack of sleep, and disordered eating from trying to gain a sense of control. In extreme cases they will throw themselves into work because they can't feel the stress if they're distracted... this leads to endless problems which, guess what... leads to MORE STRESS. Capricorns/10h placements, take a day off. The world will still go on if you rest. Other than that, these natives benefit from stretching, yoga, meditation, a nice hot bath or shower. They need to slow their roll. One self care activity that benefits them the most is laughing; funny movies, seeing a comedy show, playing with their kids or telling funny stories are all things that can remind them that play is just as important as work. Have fun you guys, you deserve it the most.

AQUARIUS MOON/AQUARIUS VENUS/11H MOON/11H VENUS: Similar to Capricorn/10th house placements, you guys have a good poker face when it comes to being stressed out. What's different though is that instead of throwing yourself into work, you fake a smile until you're all alone... that's when the symptoms of stress take over. Anxiety, loneliness, sadness are all things these people experience when stressed out. They have plenty of friends and support systems but no really gets them, at least that's how they feel. In extreme cases, Aquarius/11th house placements can experience depression, depersonalization, and feeling more and more alienated and different than everyone else. Self care for these people includes meditation, journaling, walking barefoot outside, even hugging a damn tree - anything that pulls them back down to Earth. Planning a day with friends or loved ones to do something spontaneous or adventurous can really help these people. They need to get out of the "box" they put themselves in. Other forms of self care include things that are wild, fun, and get the blood pumping; playing paintball, video games, snowball/water balloon fight, pranks, partying and letting loose with your friends, and creating silly YouTube videos. The best self care for them is connecting with like minded people and having stimulating conversations or doing things that are crazy and silly.

PISCES MOON/PISCES VENUS/12H MOON/12H VENUS: When these natives feel stress, like Cancer/4th house placements, it comes in the form of emotions. Sadness, passive aggressiveness, and even shutting down emotionally in order to not feel anything at all. Pisces/12th house placements feel things so strongly and on every level - so for them, it's better to shut the emotions off because that's easier than dealing with it head on. But, those suppressed feelings will always come back to bite them. Stress shows up as lack of faith and trust, the inability to focus and stop daydreaming, and mood swings. Since the 12th house rules the subconscious mind, sometimes they don't realize why they feel stressed or unbalanced, like Scorpio/8th house placements. These individuals benefit from swimming, visiting a body of water, jumping in a puddle, or even going outside to feel the rain in order to reconnect with their element. Anything art; painting, sculpting, knitting, singing, creating is probably the best thing they can do to channel emotions. I always joke and say Pisces/12th house placements love "old lady activities" but I think it's true. Knitting, playing bingo, spending time with children, baking are all things that can really help them. Other than that, self care for these natives can be as simple as taking a nap to tune out the world. Or giving yourself alone time in a judgmental free place to do what you want. I think the theme here is to tune out the world and tune into yourself, however you can achieve that.

*Note: No placement in astrology is exempt from experiencing mental health disorders, just because I didn't mention it for every sign doesn't mean it can't happen to them, it can. If anyone ever needs someone to talk to, my ask box is always open.

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midnightcinderella · 6 months

Text

People who would suffer at NRC

Each dorm has at least one of these students and god help them. This is very self-indulgent and each trait applies to me. If you relate, then rip to the both of us.

No proof-reading, we rawdog this shit. Word count: ~1300 Notes: no gendered pronouns for reader. mentions of ADHD, depression, and anxiety. mentions of illness. no romantic relationships

Heartslabyul

People with ADHD. Rip to us fr.

You'd forget at least a handful of rules a day, but it's really not your fault. Riddle better get off your case istg.

The ones who are more devoted to remaining productive make big colorful signs all over the damn place.

In their own rooms would be stuff like a box that says "keys and wallet go here" or a sign by the door with a checklist of what they need before they go, like homework or textbooks.

There are signs in common areas, too. They'll say stuff like curfew times or reminders of jobs that need to be done around the dorm.

There's always backlash if Riddle tries to take them down for being an eyesore because not only do they help ADHD students remember what needs to be done but students without ADHD, too. No sane person is gonna be thinking about feeding flamingos 24/7.

Savanaclaw

People with asthma. Place is dusty as shit. And hot. And humid at times.

I'm surprised the beastman students haven't taken any measure to seal off the inside of the dorm to prevent and from getting in. Guess everyone doesn't mind inhaling dust straight into their lungs.

Not to mention regular exercise is a dorm-wide tradition. Shoutout to my fellow mile walkers <3

If you have asthma and a dander/dust allergy, I'd just drop out tbh.

People who easily overheat/sweat. Double rip to us.

Get ready to go back and forth with your dormmates about smelling bad after sweating. It's a common occurrence. Someone sasses you, you sass back, and you're friends again 3 minutes later.

Everyone will think you're dying when you're dripping sweat after some stretches outside. No, you're not tired, you're just hot.

Octavinelle

People who are bad at math/bad with money. Listen.

The dorm isn't full of people who are as business minded as Azul, but there are students that offer accounting help for a fee. Negotiate that fee for the love of god.

Thankfully, you won't be scammed out of house and home because:

(1) it's generally frowned upon to scam people within Octavinelle; you don't hurt one of your own. It's about loyalty.

(2) someone is likely to take pity on you and will throw you a bone, telling you about a huge sale or where to find good job opportunities.

People who are gullible. Once again, double rip.

And once again, thank the lucky stars that loyalty is such a big thing here so you might be tricked into doing someone's job for them like mopping the Lounge, but nothing that would hurt you too badly.

If a study partner tries to feed you false information for shiggles, that'll get shut down real quick by another student. If your grades go down, then the whole dorm goes with you.

Good thing that doesn't happen often, and Azul offers his study guides for a highly discounted price to his own.

Scarabia

People who don't do well with sudden changes in temperature. Man, listen.

Hellishly hot during the day and even more hellishly cold at night. Dante would be thrilled.

God forbid you have any athletic activities close to sunset because you'll have to shower off that sweat quick before you freeze to death.

If anyone has a problem with the sound of the hairdryer after sundown, they're just gonna have to deal with it or risk catching your inevitable cold.

Speaking of, if sudden changes in temperature make you sick, double rip. I know your pain.

Kalim may not be able to come see you in person, but if he finds out you're sick, he'll send meds and some warm food. If that food was made by Jamil, then you owe him one.

You don't wanna owe him one.

If you need to leave your room after sundown, you're going to do it wrapped up with a blanket over your head. If someone mistakes you for a ghoul, that's their own problem.

Pomefiore

People with depression. Listen. Someone without depression could find it hard to keep such a strict regimen day in and day out; do not expect too much out of us.

If you think that means you're getting out of it, though, you'd be wrong.

Group accountability is a thing here. If you need help sticking to your routine, you're getting it. You can't refuse.

You're all going to be beautiful together, goddammit.

If that chronic fatigue be hittin ya, you might get a pass for a few steps of your routine. But if a particularly caring dormmate decides you have to do the full routine and straight up does it for you, lol.

Depending on how you view that sort of help, it might be really nice. Or maybe a little humiliating.

The dorm kitchen is only going to have healthy ready-made snacks. So if it's a day where you can't cook or go all the way to the cafeteria, that is what you're working with. Either that or you crawl your way over the the Shop for a candy bar.

Ignihyde

People who struggle with technology. Yes there are young people who aren't great with technology. We exist. Mind your business.

No matter how many classes you take teaching you how to use MagExcel, it never sticks for long. Even if you pass the exams, all your knowledge leaves to go buy milk by the time the week is over.

You're gonna need to interrupt people's gaming sessions to ask for help. It may annoy them, but you're doing it anyway because you refuse the reinvent the wheel 12 times.

People who prefer paper over screens. Call me old fashioned but staring at screens all day Hurts My Eyes.

You'd get physical copies of your textbooks if you could, but those free pdfs your classmates pass around are too tempting to pass up. They're free, for god's sake.

You also might be limited to board games on game nights. They're not bad, but there's not a whole lot you can do with them. You're a wiz at Cards Against Reality tho.

Every so often Ignihyde has a dorm-wide game night where everyone sits around in the common room with their headphones in, playing their own games. Together.

Though the board game players are in the next room. Oddly enough, they're the rowdiest of the bunch, and it sounds like they have the most fun by the way they're yelling and cheering.

You have seen some nerd fights start over a game of Ichi.

Diasomnia

People who have anxiety. One, Lilia is a menace. Two, your housewarden is the Malleus Draconia. Meep.

Whether it's Lilia or Malleus you run into, it feels like your heart will explode at any time.

Not to mention it's so dark in and outside of the building for no good reason. What's a fella gotta do to get some fucking sunlight in here? You're sick of worrying about what could be behind every corner.

You once wondered if Malleus needed a UV/heat lamp, but knew better than to ask. That doesn't mean you're not curious, though.

People who dislike loud sounds. I don't think I have to explain this one.

At first you thought that staying near Silver meant that you'd be staying away from Sebek, but that wasn't the case and you were at a loss as to what to do.

Then you tried going in the other direction whenever you saw Malleus, but all that did was send Sebek after you personally, asking very loudly why you did not want to be around Lord Malleus.

At one point, you got sick of his shit and muzzled him via magic. Then Malleus showed up and you were all oh shit. But then all he did was chuckle about how you were getting along so well. You took that to mean he wouldn't ever stop you from muzzling Sebek.

You were right.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland imagines #twst imagines #missy writes #gender neutral reader

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chaichaiiskai · 6 months

Note

Hi okay so if you're still doing a request can I get a (baki) Pickle x bottom male reader. So I want public sex where Pickle FuCks Reader Hard infront of everyone kinda like the reporter scene but you know with consent but if your not comfortable with that just normal rough sex in a bed room or forest since that's where Pickle is from.

If your not comfortable with this then that's okay i understand.

notes: OKAY, so, I did not see this until I wrote the last pickle request so I'm gonna connect this ask with that one— it's right here if ya wanna read it, deffo recommend it bc of lore :D hope ya enjoy this too !!! can't even lie, I'm thoroughly invested in the story of Pickle and Cucumber and I'm honestly thinking about keeping these two as reoccurring on my blog ngl.

warnings: mdni, homophobes do not interact, amab reader, he/him pronouns, violence against others that aren't reader, murder, blood and blood depictions, brief description of violence against woman and their wombs, mxm, pickle is very protective and basically yandere but who wouldn't be during the jurassic time period, rim jobs, lack of prep before anal, noncon mentioned but not against reader, reader is called cucumber by the facility and is basically a nickname, cumflation, belly bulge, size difference, very massive, very long, giant cock that is more weapon than genital, rough and unprotected sex bc duh they're both primitive men, hunting of animals, drugging // food tampering— I think that's it, lemme know if I missed anything.

The ultimate goal of the experiment was to further test the pure, raw strength of the primitive man when fueled by emotion and longing, going without food for a week. And their experiment proved to be true, far too true as a matter of fact. Multiple casualties would be forever staining the pages that reported the experiment and any sane person would have ended the experiment then and there to reunite the two lovers again.

However, a man at the top, who thought of nothing but himself, wanted to see just how far Pickle would go, even if that meant more casualties would have to be made. And so, the bloodbath ensued.

As Pickle roamed the facility halls, wave after wave came at him, rubber bullets aimed his way and raining on him that proved to have no impact on him whatsoever. He easily swiped aside the nuisances that are in his way, swiping away the small people until they go flying, hitting nearby walls— the sound of cracking bones, splattering, and coughing is sickening. So sickening that some of the scientists, though they love their jobs, find themselves going against the higher-ups.

One bravely moves in front of Pickle and holds his hands up, attempting to seem as if he was defenseless and then began to point behind him, pointing at a large door that was down the hall the primitive man was currently stalking down.

"He's there! There!"

He quickly announced, and then used his other hand to wave in the direction of the security camera he knew was currently watching the entire sight.

And on cue, the giant doors opened. To your surprise, the wall opening woke you out of your forced slumber that was brought onto you by a primitive form of depression sparked by your loss of companionship.

With heightened abilities, Pickle smelled you before he saw you, and as soon as he laid eyes on you, he was unable to make a sound, simply getting into all fours again and bounding towards you at full-speed. Despite being weakened by the lack of nutrients, you slowly sat up onto your hands and knees before feeling yourself being tackled back to the ground, bodies rolling until the two of your slammed against a tree, Pickle's back took the blow and nearly uprooted the thing. He rolled again onto a patch of grass, still holding you comfortably in his arms until you were in a patch of grass, dropping you onto your back while he buried his face into your neck, starting to nibble onto any part of it that he can reach, sharp fang-like teeth scratching over your skin and leaving indents.

The door to this new enclosure is shut and on the outside, the cleaning procedure begins, but not without some scolding to the researchers who went against the higher-ups. Cucumber and Pickle did not seem to care about whatever was going on outside of them, far more focused on each other and keeping each other close.

From then on, Pickle cannot be more than a foot away from you, and he can only sleep when he's on top of you, shielding you from whatever threatens the outside.

The only scientists he allows inside the enclosure are small, fragile-looking women. He'd already killed a few of the male scientists who dared to enter, a warning and a threat. And recently, in hopes to appease the two primitive men and get back on their neutral sides, wild animals have been introduced into the enclosure, giving the illusion of a hunt for the both of you, and unfortunately, your enjoyment in fruit had been ruined thanks to the scientists and their cruel, cruel experiment.

You were only able to eat what Pickle hunted, and in another week, you looked more alive again, even helping with the hunt and relishing in Pickle's presence yet again. So far, it seemed that Pickle seemed to enjoy crocodile meat quite a lot, whilst you had your own preferences. And once you were back at a healthy level of energy, Pickle immediately recognized it and let his instincts win, one could not blame him for feeding into such carnal desires.

After an especially filling meal, you find yourself being hunted just like your previous meal, but it's the kind of hunt that gets the hair on the back of your neck standing. Your primitive partner growls at you in a suggestive manner and suddenly, he's chasing you around the enclosure, getting the adrenaline pumping in your veins and his. And when he's had enough, he's got you pinned down onto the ground, pulling at the loin cloth that keeps you from him until it comes off, making him toss it aside. He's hurried and hungry, yanking his own loin cloth off as you roll onto your stomach, eager for him to mount you, hardened cock swinging between your legs while a bead of pre dribbles out the top. You're on your knees, propping your body up in the ideal position for— breeding essentially.

Pickle is eager himself, lining his massively thick, veiny dick up with your rim, nearly growling at the anticipation as he presses the head against it and starts to push. Every part of the tanned man is large, including his third leg that was just a few inches over a foot in length and thick like a world record-breaking, sizable anaconda. He tried to force himself into you, but you push him out, obviously because it's been a while and it seems to frustrate the beast, eliciting a growl from him as he eyes your little hole with his brows furrowed. Everytime you breathe, it winks at him, almost like it's taunting him and you can't help but to grow frustrated, huffing at him from over your shoulder, but he can't stop staring at your hole, curious eyes drilling themselves into your ass.

Then, yet another instinct comes over him as he leans down, shoving his tongue past the first ring of muscle, the fat thing nearly longer than his cock. The sensation is strange but it only makes more pearls of pre dribble from your tip, your own cock seemingly throbbing as his wild tongue throbs around inside of you from behind, forcibly stretching you with its width. The muscle thrashes around inside of you, wildly moving about, darting in and out of you like an excitable puppy drinking water from a lake. His tongue movements are uncoordinated and hungry, so much to the point that it's darting about with no clear destination, even causing a few stray licks to the underside of your balls that makes you flinch every time.

Pickle isn't particularly sure what he's doing or why he's doing it, but he couldn't stop himself from feeding into the curiosity. It surprised you as well, considering he's never done to you before and you had never felt so good down there like this.

Shamelessly, a group of researchers and scientists were watching this ensemble unfold in real-time, gathered around with food in their hands like shameless perverts watching an adult film.

For science! They would most likely say, ignoring their own instincts to shove a hand in their pants at the scene in front of them.

The licking, although pleasant, was becoming too much and there was a buildup you were feeling in your shaft that had you panting like a dog, clawing at the ground and smashing your skull against the dirt. For some unknown reason, Pickle took your sounds as a signal of sorts and he remembered his own issue, heavy uncircumcised cock seeming to throb and lift with eagerness. Yet again, he pulls himself back to position himself properly, lining himself up with your hole and then pushes the tip in, a chirp of excitement escaping him as he plunges in deeper, going in about halfway before you feel as though the insides of your stomach are literally being rearranged. Fertile balls are pressed up against yours as he manages to jam every inch into your awaiting hole, somehow you're able to take every inch, an impressive feat within itself. Perhaps, this is why he took you as a lover. A flash of memories comes to mind to both you and Pickle.

. . .

Pickle had his share of sexual partners— instinctually he went after women, who he ultimately killed by accident after ripping through their wombs with the deadly length between his thighs. He had found a woman once, able to take him fully, but she did not recuperate his feelings and escaped him after a session of breeding. Eventually, Pickle stumbled upon Cucumber, a man of smaller stature than him, but strong in his own way. Their first meeting was anything but friendly, both of them going after the same prey of a Jurassic animal, looking for their next meal, fighting each other while simultaneously fighting the creature in hopes of getting meat. Ultimately, they ended up killing the beast together and bregrundingly shared, taking from the hunted beast without acknowledging each other much after.

But through unfortunate events, you continued to run into each other at different points in both of your traveling journeys, but continued to ignore each other regardless. And on one of those fateful meet-ups, however, Pickle had made a mistake— a mistake that brought on a sense of fear that he'd never once had to deal with before.

Consuming a wasp.

The pain he'd felt from it made him more vocal than ever, scaring away beasts and other people alike. However, Cucumber was not fearful, instead, he went a pang of sympathy for the man who he'd considered somewhat of a companion.

Immediately jumping into action, tapping into a nurturing side that he sometimes would ignore, he wandered hurriedly to the nearest lake of water, cupped his hands and gathered a healthy amount of it into his hands and wandered towards the other man. He growled at that primitive man who was still in excruciating pain, opening his mouth in an attempt to get the message across to him and with tears in his eyes, Pickle obliged, reminding Cucumber of a whimpering babe who was hungry for milk.

Dumping the handfuls of water into Pickle's mouth, you watched as he held the water in his mouth for a moment and then spit it out, along with the wasp, coughing up quite a storm. You frowned as he coughed, hesitantly patting his back afterwards, and after a while, you left to gather something to soothe the residual burning— fruits, which you forced Pickle to eat, despite his disdain for eating things that he did not hunt himself. But when he did as you wanted, the burn disappeared and you were ready to take your leave after helping him— only to have the man hot on your tail, everywhere you went, following you closely from behind.

Surprisingly, you didn't shoo him away, and that was what began the true extent of your strange relationship. It didn't take much longer before he would develop something new, love, and you returned the feeling. And in a moment of intimacy one late night, under the stars, he'd mounted you for the first time like a woman and breeded you under the moonlight. It was somewhat romantic, even with the guttural sounds of pleasure and delight that came from you both. And when you took him in his entirety without complaint, he was even more infatuated with you than he'd already been.

. . .

The primal man is grinning at this point as he's able to properly mount you, beginning to thrust at a pace that has your body rocking back and forth, his mouth and the area around it shiny with his own saliva as he plunges further. You're lucky you're stronger than the average and modern man, claws digging further into the dirt to keep yourself from toppling forward. Pickle is pounding into you, thrusting his hips with a tenacity that's enough to shake the trees around you, you're lucky your body is built for the brutality.

Watchful eyes are carefully observing, even going as far as to have a discussion onto why the two of you had chosen each other as mates since there was no chance of either of you reproducing. Then again, did reproducing matter much to the primitive people of your time? Apparently not, though Pickle seemed to be /breeding/ you as if it were indeed, possible.

Poor Cucumber was experiencing the true strength of Pickle's excitement, quite literally being fucked into the ground by a beast of mass destruction. The researchers collectively feel a sense of great respect for you as you handle the creature on top of you with gritted teeth, groaning and growling as you take every inch. It's a rough experience that leaves you teary eyed, wobbly lipped, and whining, just like all the other times he has his way with you. Pickle doesn't seem to let up, not even when your teeth chatter as a familiar and growing pleasure comes over you, blossoming in your hips and cock, strings of white spewing from your tip and onto the ground beneath you in spurts that seem to last far too long. Your cock seems to soften after cumming a second time, though it continues to twitch and swing with the pistoning of barbaric hips that continuously drive you forward. Squelching and the sound of skin repeatedly colliding is nearly as loud as the proud growls Pickle does, his chest vibrating with an animalistic equivalent of pride when you cum, squeezing his erection enough to milk him just right.

And fortunately, your poor hole doesn't need to take much more abuse before Pickle reaches his edge as well, unleashing copious amounts of his load into you, cum spilling out the edges where your bodies connected, dribbling out in the dirt like lines of salt. You'd felt full like this before, never able to get used to the feeling but still enjoying it regardless, a strange after result is the slight pouch in your lower belly that is made due to an immense amount of cum. Pickle holds himself there for a bit before pulling out and he's /still/ coming, ropes of the sticky white landing on your back and your rear, the insane amount he's dumped into you beginning to spill out and trickle from your gaping, spasming hole. Your lover lets out an affirmative, satisfied groan and then lays down onto the ground on his side right next to you. He wraps one of his lengthy arms around you and pulls you towards him, your chest neerly flush against his, and you rest your forehead against his shoulder, panting as you attempt to catch your breath, almost as if you'd been running after an especially fast prey. Pickle shuts his eyes and rests his chin on top of your head as he slowly shuts his eyes, having been drained of energy. It's not long before he's asleep and his body naturally locks in place around you, almost like a protective barrier. One of his legs is draped over yours, hooked behind your knees, his monstrous cock nestled between your thighs while yours is squeezed between your stomach and his abdomen, lower bodies entangled where it's almost difficult to distinguish between limbs. His arm is still wrapped around your back, the other had joined, slipping beneath you as his hands interlocked behind your back. This position is new, he's usually laying right on top of you when he sleeps, completely covering you up like a shell on the back of a turtle, making it nearly impossible to see you beneath him unless one looked from very specific angles.

You're tired as well, hole still leaking with Pickle's cum as your eyelids grow heavy. Your body is hot and sticky with sweat, making your skin stick to his, but you always find comfort in his presence, snaking your own arms around the massive man's body the best way you can before you drift off to sleep as well.

To the researchers and facility crew who are still watching on the security cams, they see the cuddling session as wholesome— despite the previous actions of you both— and nearly coo at the cuddling session.

Perhaps they would need to adjust their research and find different questions to think about...

#— chai’s asks. !!#— chai rambles. !!#— anonnie. !!#male reader #x male reader #amab reader #baki smut #baki the grappler smut #pickle x male reader #pickle x y/n #pickle x reader #pickle x you #pickle baki #baki pickle #yandere baki hanma pickle

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ayabeanworks · 7 months

Text

Title: Hold me tighter

Synopsis: You knew Suguru wasn't well, and you did everything within your power to be there for him, including inviting yourself on a certain mission where two young girls were rescued.

Character: Geto Suguru x reader

Series: Let's Meet in the Spring (SaShiSu x reader)

Notes: Fluff, angst, swearing, feral!reader who probably hung out with Gojo too much, Geto pining, mentions of death and alludes to depression. AU where Geto doesn't defect.

Somewhat of a prequel to this AU.

You were amazing. You were strong. You were also terrifying.

That's how Geto Suguru saw you during a certain mission.

He and you had been assigned on the mission in a small town inhabiting only more of 100 people, with weird things like deaths and disappearances of the villagers.

You begged the higher ups to go because you were worried about Suguru's health, and you didn't want to leave him alone. You had noticed a downward spiral from him, and these days, it seemed to be getting worse. You also had a very bad feeling about this mission, and you were going to do whatever you could to make sure Suguru's sanity remained intact.

Even if the elders said no, you were going to go anyway. And that's exactly what you did.

"What exactly is this?"

Suguru had an expression of exasperation as he saw the young girls locked up in the wooden cage, bloodied and bruised, holding onto each other for support.

You could smell the thick scent of blood in the air, as well as see the dried, old patches of blood here and there when you eyes darted around the room. Apart from blood, there were other smells, similar to an abandoned alleyway where the homeless would reside.

Your jaw clenched and your eyes, widened with the need to see every and anything in the room, hoped they were lying when they landed on the girls. You counted the number of bruises on their limbs, the blood on their clothes, the blood on their face, the eye injuries each of them had.

It made your blood run cold. They looked to be just around 6-7 years old, only just old enough to understand and learn more complicated math in a school setting.

Not here.

Not here, bloodied and bruised.

It was like something inside you snapped, and all inhibitions went out the window. Like boiling water, it started to simmer, and you slowly turned to the two villagers as they conversed with Suguru, holding down your anger as your fists clenched and released.

"What do you mean? They're the cause of this, right?" One of the two who accompanied you both raised a hairy brow, his arm raising and trying to make a point.

"No." You could feel Suguru trying to continue being polite, but the slight edge in his voice was obvious.

"But those two strange ones are using their strange powers to attack the villagers!"

"I've already determined the cause of the incidents." Suguru gave a statement, one that he determined after being in the village for 5 days with you.

"My grandson was killed by these two." The older lady chipped in, a terrible frown on her wrinkly features.

Ugly.

Your shoulders relaxed and a light exhale released from your lips. You took a couple of steps forward to stand by Suguru, placing a hand on his shoulder softly, patting it a couple of times.

So they want to die?

Suguru glanced at you, his hand still up, about to summon a curse as he battled with his inner demons.

You gave him a little smile, one you'd give him all the time, but the underlying feeling made him tense. It was much darker, much more sinister.

"He's the one who-!" The girls from the cage exclaimed, but was shut down by the shouting of the male villager.

"Shut up, you monster!!! Your parents were exactly the same! We should have killed you when you were babies!"

"Shut the fuck up."

A loud thump from your fist embued with cursed energy, as well as a resounding crack from the same area tore a bloodhurdling scream from the middle aged male villager.

Suguru's eyes widened as his tensed hand lowered to his side, lips parting in shock at your actions.

That was the first time Suguru has ever seen you so angry you snapped. It sent chills down his spine and the hairs on his body to raise. His body tensed from the accumulation of cursed energy around you.

"Does having a broken rib hurt?" Your words were laced with worry, but with the unyielding mocking tilt in it, it was hardly convincing. "Do you want me to break your arm as well? That'll numb the pain a little."

You strode forward a couple of steps, coming in closer to the older male, crouching down slightly as you grabbed his arm roughly, pulling him in as your foot landed on the shoulder of the arm you pulled, about to dislocate his arm with a rough pull.

A strangled cry for you to stop made you raise your brow as a scowl adorned your face. Your eyes narrowed at the man below you. He was breathing heavily as he grabbed your ankle, trying to pry you off weakly, but to no avail. His grip was painfully weak, and he was struggling to breathe. You wondered if the broken rib pierced his lungs or any other organ?

"Oh? You want me to stop?" You taunted, an amused chuckle resonating through your chest. "Did you stop when you and the village were tormenting those poor kids? Beating them up and locking them up in here?" You dug your heel into his shoulder as you pushed him into the concrete wall, twisting it a couple of times for good measure. He writhed in pain as his grip on your ankle tightened, but you pulled at his arm, making him scream out.

The older lady on the side, who had been trembling the whole time in shock, suddenly let out a screech and flung herself at you, her arms flailing to hit you to let go of her fellow villager.

You grit your teeth as you grab the village man's arm with your left arm, using your elbow as an anchor point to throw a perfectly timed slap to the woman's face, causing her to hit the wall next to him after spinning in the air a couple of times.

"Wow, didn't know a human could spin so much. Especially for an old lady!" You light up into a smile. The smile didn't reach your eyes and was instead habouring a deep hatred for the types of people you were fighting, ready to rip off their arms and limbs if necessary.

"You can join you grandson now. I'm sure he's waiting for you."

What a sorry excuse for a human being.

"[name]..." Suguru called our your name hesitantly, glancing at the two girls in the wooden cage. They were trembling, hugging each other as they watched you. However, it didn't seem like they were scared. Their eyes showed admiration, and were widened in a surprise that could be interpreted as positive.

His eyes once again landed on you. You didn't even react to him saying your name - it was like you were in a state of mania, with such a fluctation in temperament and emotions, it felt like a different person. It didn't feel like you.

Did he even know you?

Who was the person in front of him?

He looked back at the girls, walking a couple of steps closer before trying to shield what you were doing with his body.

"Answer my question. Did you or did you not stop when you were tormenting those kids?" You looked to the wall where the woman hit, seeing her barely unconscious on the ground after the smack made her life flash before her very eyes.

The villager man screamed, "I-AAHHh-hah, you...you'RE THE DEVIL!"

"Oh, wow, you think I'm the devil?" You didn't even miss a beat at responding, giving him a doe eyed look to vouch for your innocence. Your expression shifted to a crazed grin, a laughter erupting in your throat as you pulled roughly at his arm, a loud pop ringing in the air as you dislocated it. You let him scream, collapsing over as you let go of his arm, allowing it to drop to his side as he cried, streaks of tears staining his shirt as drool flowed out of his mouth at the pain. You lean in, a smile on your lips as you coo at his current state, "Honey, if I'm the devil, then what are you and the other villagers? I think you're all devil's incarnate, so we should be the same, no? Why the scared face? Just like you said, I'm a devil. No, we're both devils."

You watch as his expression contorts to one where he wanted to scream something in your face, anger taking hold of him as the fear takes a seat. He was sweating, and the colour was draining from his face from the pain you inflicted.

You could only chuckle at his sorry state, clicking your tongue at him a couple of times. "But there's one thing you got wrong, darling. I'm not the devil, I'm your grim reaper."

You pull your foot back as the man's consciousness finally breaks, and he slumps over to join his fellow unconscious villager after enduring the pain.

"Didn't even answer the fucking question." You muttered, clicking your tongue once more. You fished your phone from your pocket and gave a call to the Windows nearby to alert them of what happened.

As you did so, Suguru watched you. He was frozen in his spot, unable to move. He was in shock at the way you handled the two just now. It was different to when you sparred together, and it made him realise you always unconsciously held back.

While he watched you release your anger at them, he had calmed down. His mind and heart less cloudy than before as he watched everything unfold before him. It gave him a rationality of thought, juxtaposed with your outburst. It almost made thinking a lot easier, with you by his side in such a state.

It reminded him of his best friend Satoru, and he wondered how much time you spent with him to become like this. After all, that mocking tone and speech was actually quite similar that it scared him - or, did you have this side hidden the whole time, but had control over yourself that you didn't break until the situation called for it?

By no means did he condone what you did, but if you didn't handle it the way you did, he didn't know what he would've done. He was so close to breaking that it was almost a miracle he didn't.

"[name]." Suguru repeated your name again after you finished your phone call, taking a couple of steps towards you.

"Hm, yes, Sugu?" You questioned him with a genuine smile. Your usual smile was on your lips as you tilt your head slightly at him, wondering what he wanted to ask.

He paused, wondering which was the real you. The switch was so fast, and oh so sudden. Your cursed energy had dissipated and wasn't so condensed, and your calm temperament was back. It confused him, and he wondered if he was in the wrong for thinking of such horrible things before you literally broke a person's rib.

He grabbed the hand you used to hit the man in the stomach and slap the other, seeing no injuries. Gliding his thumb over the areas that made contact, he closed his eyes for a moment, heaving a light sigh, before making eye contact with you again.

"We should get the girls to safety." You nod to the girls in the cage, placing a hand on Suguru's hand as you pat it a couple of times before releasing from his grip.

Suguru watched as you broke the lock of the cage, taking the girls out carefully. They latched onto you and murmured quiet thank yous as they cried in your arms. It hurt his heart to see such young children suffer from the hands of horrible adults. They didn't deserve this.

He walked over and leaned down slightly, placing his large hands on the girls' heads, gently ruffling their hair. He also ruffled your one too since you were crouched down to their level, a funny noise coming from your throat at the unexpected affection. Seeing your reaction, the girls glanced at each other and did the same, placing their hands gently on your head as they pet it like they did a small animal.

You laughed lightly, a sound so delightful to Suguru's ears at this current moment that it slowly wedged its way into his darker thoughts.

"The Windows should be here soon," You looked from Suguru to the girls, "We'll be taking you back with us. You'll be provided shelter and food, and life will be much better than here." You grabbed a hand from each girl, thumb caressing the back of their hand.

They fervently nodded their heads, ready to depart from the wretched village they used to call home.

The minute the four of you arrived back at Jujutsu High, you were pulled over by an angry Yaga, who began berating you for going on the mission regardless of what the elders have said, and that you were to see them immediately.

"This is unlike you, [name]! Suguru could have handled it on his own." Yaga pinched his nose bridge, obviously frustrated at your handling of the situation.

You crossed your arms, quickly glancing over at Suguru, the girls and the Window accompanying them. They were watching you, and the girls were getting tugged to go to Shoko for their injuries, but they didn't want to leave since you were getting yelled at.

You met Geto's eyes, which held yours for a moment, before you looked back at Yaga with a heavy exhale. "Well, yes." You said simply. Yaga stared at you like you'd grown another head, wondering why what you said was different from your actions.

"Since you understand that, then why--"

"So do the elders want to see me now?" You interrupted. You didn't want to hear it from him nor did you want to elaborate. It wasn't like they were going to understand what you were doing anyway.

Yaga made an expression he normally did when dealing with Satoru, before sighing. "They'll see you now. You're probably not going to get out of this unscathed."

"So what are they going to do? Kill me? The villagers are still alive and well, just a little bit in pain." You waved at the girls and Suguru as you left with Yaga.

"I'll be back in a bit. Gonna get ripped a new one." You joked light-heartedly. It was the elders, after all. They're going to rip into any and every material and weakness they had on you so they could bring you under their control.

But you weren't going to succumb.

No fucking way.

Suguru watched as you left, his waving hand falling to his side. He felt little hands grab his pants as you left, each one belonging to the little girls saved.

"Is [name] going to get in trouble for saving us?" Their worried tone of voice was so sweet, so young, it hurt Geto.

He shook his head, "Only a little bit. But they'll be ok." He placed his large hands on each of their heads and ruffled their hair gently, careful not to get any healing areas.

"I think [name] will be happy if you go to Shoko and get healed up." Suguru nodded at the Window, who tried to get the little girls with them.

The girls stared up at him for a moment, then let go and nodded, trusting his words. They each grabbed the Window's hands and asked them to lead the way.

And, Geto Suguru was alone once again with his thoughts, the whole fiasco weighing on his mind as his feet took him to your room.

Geto Suguru wandered why he sat in your room all the time. He practically lived in there now, with how often he was there instead of his own room or house.

You often dragged him when you saw him alone, to your room so he could keep you company, citing 'loneliness', but really, later down the track he realised he was the one needing your company instead, and he looked forward to when he was able to be around you. He also knew you weren't really 'lonely', but rather wanted him to know someone was willing to be there for him.

Could you read minds?

Sure, his other best friend Satoru wasn't around as often due to taking more solo missions, and Shoko was in the morgue, but at least he was able to see her. But out of the three, he saw you the most, and he was glad he did.

When did it start?

He wondered when he started coming to yours, now considered normal without any asking, without any hesitation.

He thinks it was right after the mission with Riko, the star plasma vessel. That was when you started inviting him to things way more often, trying whatever you could to fill up his time and space whenever Satoru and Shoko weren't there. So he was never alone.

The compliments, the time, attention, and love he was showered was almost too much for him when he realised it after this specific mission, and he had to lean forward and hold his head in his hands as the burden of his own thoughts made his eyes glassy.

The one who had reached out their hand, unwavering and steady, was you.

It was always you.

And since it started, the others did their best to support whenever they could, and that would've been an effort on your behalf, most likely you letting them know what you were doing.

Geto let out a choked sob as he let the tears fall in silence. Even though it tore him inside with which side he wanted to take when it came to protecting or not protecting non-sorcerers, he thought of you, he thought of Satoru, and he thought of Shoko. He thought of the girls you and him rescued, and the lives of the other sorcerers he went to school with. He thought of the non-sorcerers who didn't understand what it meant to live as a shaman, and he thought of the ones who cried and thanked him gratefully.

He hated the Jujutsu society and how it was structured. He hated how non-sorcerers were the bane and root of their existence, and the discrimination that comes with being a Jujutsu sorcerer as a minority.

Even though he was combating the very notion of accepting either side of the war raging inside him, he wondered how you were able to be as you are. How you were able to continue on your missions, how you were able to continue on the marathon race called shamantism? Did it not affect you?

But he knew it did, but how deeply he did not know.

He had heard you crying your heart out for Haibara, who was easily one of your favourite underclassmen, alone, when you woke up in the middle of the night before and during the mission you both came back from. But, even though he heard your sobs and cries, he couldn't say anything. All he could do was pretend to sleep and move so one of his arms was draping over you stomach, his forehead touching your shoulder as a way of saying 'I'm here for you'.

He would notice the way you calmed down when he did so, and it was something he noted for next time.

In his mind, he could recognise your smile and your voice, every one of your words drilled into his head as the tears fell onto the floorboards.

He was originally doing this for himself and wanted a solid foundation to base his beliefs off. Before, it was strong, but after the Riko mission, it faltered, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to continue down the same path.

And now, he was at a crossroad.

He wanted to trust in those who had faith in him, and the good in the people who were not the bad kind of non-sorcerers. Because the world had both. If his noble cause was just to protect the weak, those who weren't able to protect themselves and were good people, then so be it. Those who were corrupt, there will be another punishment waiting for them.

And so, he made up his mind.

"Sugu! Those elders put me under house arrest! For disobeying orders!" You opened the door to your room, half exclaiming and half grinning at the punishment given.

You gave a momentary pause when you saw Suguru with his head in his hands, hunched over where he normally sat at the foot of your bed.

With your arrival, he looked up, his loose hair slightly covering his face. But you could tell, he looked like he'd been crying, or was he still crying?

You took off your shoes, shut the door and immediately made a beeline to him, standing between his legs and cupping his cheeks with both your hands as you stared at him, searching his eyes for answers, for reasons, for everything. He stared up at you, sniffing every couple of seconds as his tears dried.

"Sugu." Your voice was a whisper, "What are you thinking?"

The softness of your voice didn't go unnoticed. Suguru always noticed. His hands hesitantly held your wrist, fingers wrapped around loosely so if you wanted to get out of his grip, you could.

The silence was palpable. It was heavy, and it tasted thick. He could only feel the warmth of your hands on his face and the warmth radiating off the close proximity of your body.

Since you didn't get an answer straight away, you gently swiped your thumb in the area just under his eyes like he did for you, on both sides, one at a time. He blinked a couple of times, the grip on your wrists loosening further as it fell down between his legs.

When you ran your fingers through his hair as a makeshift comb, he closed his eyes, basking in the affection you gave him, calming his tumultuous heart.

"Thank you..." His words were quiet, all too quiet that it seemed like you were the only one who he spoke to, in the bubble of the two of you, "For coming with me on that mission."

You hummed lightly as you continued to thread your hands through his hair, giving him a light head massage here and there as he struggled to find the words to convey his thoughts to you.

"I wavered." It was a statement, a statement that had many emotions in it, spoken to himself more than to you. It made you pause your movements, the raw feeling of his words sinking into you as you waited for him to continue, along with your massage.

"After Riko's death, those non-sorcerers, those monkeys, I can still hear them clapping, applauding her death." Suguru lets out a breathy sigh at the end, finally letting out his thoughts. "I used to believe the strong exists to protect the weak. But now...what about the strong? The strong are dying because of these non-sorcerers, because they aren't able to control their cursed energy, and they create curses that cause our deaths. There's no end."

"Being a Jujutsu sorcerer is a marathon race. What if...at the end, it's just a pile of our corpses? Our friends' corpses?" Suguru opened his eyes again, holding a sadness in his eyes he wasn't able to show until now.

You put your hands back on his cheeks. "Do you still believe the strong exists to protect the weak?"

You weren't able to answer this marathon race question. It was impossible to. Whatever answer you had, it would be negative. And you didn't want to dampen his spirits with something he already knew, deep inside him.

It was silent before he finally replied, "I don't know."

"The strong protect the weak. That was your philosophy, wasn't it?" A pause, "It's also what makes the strong, strong. You know, if there weren't any 'weak' people, you wouldn't even be considered 'strong', you know."

"As someone who's been saved by the strong and now becoming stronger because of them, I will hold that in my heart forever. Those non-sorcerers and sorcerers you've saved, Sugu, will remember you as their saviour."

Suguru's lips parted, but he closed them again, waiting for you to continue. He didn't know what to say.

"If you decide you don't want to protect non-sorcerers anymore and you look down on them, and it's the alternative to saving non-sorcerers because they're weak, then..." Your forehead presses on his as you close your eyes, "I'll let you go."

Suguru's throat became dry. He wanted to badly to say that he wasn't going to leave, but he couldn't deny the feelings he had when it came to whichever road he would pick.

"But, if you do end up hating non-sorcerers, you'll become one of those corpses you didn't want to see. And as a fellow sorcerer, I'd hate for that to happen." You lean down and move to hug him to your smaller body, pressing his face into the crook of your neck.

"Non-sorcerers are weak, yes, but they can also be strong. Not strong enough to kill curses, but strong in other aspects. Strength is not equal to pulverising curses." You gently pet the back of his head, "Riko was strong, wasn't she? She's not a bad non-sorcerer. She was almost like a friend to you, wasn't she?"

Suguru's arms wrap around your mid section, grabbing onto the back of your shirt like life support. "...yes." He managed to whisper.

"There's good and bad in everyone, Sugu, regardless of if they're sorcerers or not. If you're worried about the sorcerers in the world, wouldn't it be best to fix it at its core rather than to to just kill them all?"

Suguru didn't respond. He already had his answer.

You felt a wetness on your neck as his body shook, sobs ripping through his body as relief filled his veins at your words. You hummed, gently patting his back as he cried.

You knew, Suguru was a soft person inside. No matter how troublesome he and Satoru can become when they're together, Suguru was undoubtedly the softer one. Satoru also had a soft heart, but he had walls and walls around so it wasn't easily penetrated. Whereas for Suguru, the environment he's in affects him easier, and the suffering of others will easily shake him. Especially with his job as a sorcerer, it was even harder since it was a job with an abundance of negative energy.

You must've stayed like this for a while, and you felt him move to face you, his face still in your neck. You could feel his exhales on your skin, a soft hum from him as he murmured an apology to you into your skin.

"You okay there, Sugu?" You leaned your head on his, nuzzling a little.

He let go of the back of your shirt, and instead grabbed your waist and under your legs, bringing you to his lap as you yelped in surprise at the sudden lightweightedness.

"Sorry, it's easier this way." He adjusted you so you were directly in front of him, your legs to the side on the bed. His arms encased you as he hugged you tighter than before, not wanting to let go. He wanted to feel your pulse and heartbeat, to know you're present and there with him.

He buried his face into the crook of your neck again, his eyes closing as he tried to burrow impossibly closer, just like you're his lifeline.

You didn't mind since occasionally he would do this, but as of now, this was the most intimate he had become with you, and it was making your heartbeat speed up.

You tried to calm yourself as you continued to pat his back and smooth the back of his hair, chin on his shoulder as you leaned your head on his.

"Your heart's racing." You felt his lips curl into a smile, "You like this?"

Slightly annoyed by his teasing during such a tender moment, especially for him, the next pat was a lot harsher than the rest of them. You pouted as he chuckled into your skin, loosening his grip. He kept one arm around you as he wiped any tears with his sleeve, gently patting the areas on you he made damp.

You noticed he looked a lot better. A lot lighter, even. Even though he was crying, whatever was weighing him down seemed to have lessened or disappeared, like it was never there in the first place. It was like the Suguru pre star plasma vessel mission had returned.

You unknowingly held your breath, wondering if the Suguru in front of you would go back to the one who was conflicted.

"Do I have something on my face?" Suguru could feel your intense gaze on him the whole time, and he felt like he was under a microscope at how strong your gaze was.

He suddenly became self-conscious; did he look that bad after crying?

"You're back." You stated, almost incredulously.

At the tip of his tongue, he wanted to ask 'I'm back?', but he realised, you meant him. You meant the him from before Riko, the him before he started spiralling. The him who had a strong resolve and foundation.

"I've always been here." He gave you a little smile, the smile sincerely reaching his eyes as he gave you a little forehead bump.

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks at such a gentle motion, not unnoticed by him.

"You blush at this but not the hugging before?" He stared at you like you were the strangest thing on this earth, but the mirth was clearly dancing around his purple eyes, making you hit him lightly in the chest, giving him an unimpressed look.

"Welcome back, I guess." You rolled your eyes playfully at him, but you were glad he was back.

"So what's this about a house arrest for you?" Suddenly, you remembered you'd come to deliver the news to him after your meeting with the elders.

"Ah, yeah, so I'm under house arrest! For 1 week! They told me to not leave the school and if I do, they're gonna do something." You tried to recall the information, but all you had in your head was Suguru, Suguru and more Suguru.

You blinked once, twice, thrice, but you couldn't remember shit all. "Maybe I should get 'toru to bail me out if I get in trouble. He can threaten them easily."

"...why not me?" Suguru gave his best attempt at puppy dog eyes, making your brows raise at him for the effort.

"Nice try," You pinch his cheeks, trying to stop the smile from pulling your lips upwards, "I don't want you going alone, so go with 'toru if you want to. Double trouble from the two strongest sorcerers, right?" You finally give him a grin as he held a baffled look.

Then, he laughed.

The sound was like a melody to your ears, one which was so genuine and heartfelt, one you hadn't heard in so long. It moved you.

"I'll do that, then. Does that mean you have to stay here the whole time?"

"Nah, as long as I'm in Tengen's barrier."

"That's a pretty good holiday for you."

"I know right?"

"You've worked hard enough so I think you deserve some rest."

The chatter continued until the night, until you fell asleep on him from how tiring the whole day was. Geto cradled you close, like you were made of glass (not that he wasn't hugging you like his lifeline before). Instead of caressing your cheek like he was used to, this time, he mustered up some courage, gave a quick peck on your cheek, then nuzzled your cheeks together as he stood up and got you into your bed.

As he tucked you in, he gently pushed the stray hairs out of your face, his finger caressing your cheek ever so gently.

"...thank you, [name]." He spoke so, so softly he barely heard his own voice, a calm and gentle smile on his face as he reluctantly left. He was going to hop into bed next to you to sleep as well, but he figured he should clean up first before doing so.

Turns out, Suguru didn't have any missions in the same week you were under house arrest.

You were still sleeping even after Suguru tried to wake you up in the morning, so he just left you there so you could rest. After all, you probably needed some extra time since you worked so hard for him.

"I'm surprised I don't have any missions this week." The martial artist sat down with a cup of tea.

"Wonder why that is?" Shoko had shrugged off the question, eating together with the curse manipulation user in the common area.

She already knew why that was, since she heard it all from you, but she wasn't going to tell Suguru so easily.

"[name] probably complained to the elders." Suguru stated with a laugh. He could see it happening, with you giving them attitude until you got what you want. Almost like a kid trowing a tantrum.

Shoko let out a hum as she agreed. There was a little more to the story, but he didn't need to know yet.

They were so worried about you they actually begged the elders this time. Probably the first time they've begged them, so they allowed it with one condition: [name] had to do whatever they wanted for a week after their house arrest.

But Suguru didn't need to know that, at least, until [name] told him, which they probably didn't want to do.

Seeing Shoko's nonchalant personality was normal, but for Suguru he felt like there was definitely something she knew. After all, [name] was at Shoko's before they came back to their room yesterday. And knowing the elders and from what [name]'s said about them, Suguru assumed there would be some form of condition.

Seeing he wasn't convinced, Shoko decided she was going to allude to it a little, since [name] probably wasn't going to say anything.

To speed up the process, was Shoko's determining factor.

"I think they're going to be quite busy after their week off. My spider senses are telling me this." She joked, leaning back on the chair.

Suguru thought for a moment, "So the elders are going to force [name] to go on difficult missions."

Shoko shrugged, taking out a cigarette and placing it between her lips. She didn't light it inside, but it didn't feel right without it. "Aren't they already doing that?"

Geto didn't give a response, thinking what the elders would do especially since [name] was involved. From his observations, they were much more strict on you than they were on anybody else. Satoru could get away with things because he was one of the strongest and could actually end them and everything else, but you on the other hand, were not able to do that and effectively just danced in the palm of their hands trying to bite your way out.

He let out a low hum in thought. If he was granted no missions during this time and you were under house arrest, but Shoko alluded to you being busy the next week even after knowing you'll be taking up missions just like usual, that effectively means something was up. Was there another variable he wasn't sure about? Did you have something to do with him having no missions right now?

"Shoko, why not just tell me [name] had a deal with the elders?" He let out a sigh at the roundabout way of getting to the answer. "I'm guessing they agreed to do whatever the elders asked for, for 1 week, right? In exchange for giving me a break and going on that mission even after getting told not to."

"Bingo." Shoko made finger guns at his correct answer. She definitely didn't tell him, he just figured it out on his own, she tells herself.

Suguru's lips pressed into a thin line, wondering what the elders had planned. After all, you were a semi grade-1 sorcerer, but you kept getting pushed into missions which were grade 1 or higher, somehow managing to always come back alive even after facing a grade 1 curse.

Which is why the elders were always assigning you to go on difficult missions.

"You know, the girls you brought back, Mimiko and Nanako, are doing well. They've been put into a foster home associated with Jujutsu High, so you'll be able to see them if you want." Shoko forgot to give him this piece of information.

"That's good to hear." He smiled, now knowing the girls were doing well. It brought him back to the day prior, where he was so, so close to losing it and choosing another path. "I'm sure [name] would like to see them too."

Shoko shifted in her seat when she heard your name from his lips this time, finding it was different to earlier. It was softer? She couldn't quite put her finger to it, but it was like his soft spot for you was even softer than before, if that could even be a thing.

"You sound like a lovesick fool." Shoko commented with a non-commited laugh. She was just teasing, but she was also curious.

Suguru rolled his eyes at her, taking a sip of his tea. "They saved them too. Of course they'd want to see them."

He didn't agree nor deny, making Shoko raise her brows in surprise.

"I heard my name." You yawned as you entered the common area, still in the clothes you wore yesterday.

"Looks like you slept well." Geto examined your hair, which stuck up in some places, a smile on his face at the scene.

You hummed in response, giving a wave to both of them before sauntering over to the kitchenette to make yourself a glass of warm water, uncaring of the eyes trailing after you.

Shoko's gaze landed on Suguru, watching him watch you.

His gaze on you was definitely different. She definitely wasn't seeing things. She swore it was softer than before. The way his expression changed to a more relaxed one the minute you came into the picture, the way his shoulders relaxed when he talked to you, the tone of his voice shifting spectacularly to include an affectionate tilt, all of it was presented right in from of Shoko, who had known Suguru for a while, so she could tell these differences easily.

Wow, damn. He's down bad.

She smirked to herself, wanting so badly to tell Satoru of Suguru's little crush.

Except, both of them would probably deny it to the ends of the earth.

You slip into the seat next to Geto, eyes half open as you slowly blinked away your sleepiness, drinking the water here and there. Suguru laughed lightly at your state, scooting a little closer to detangle your hair with his fingers, running his hands through your hair to fix it.

Shoko's eyes nearly bulged out of her head, watching this blatant public display of affection. She was used to Suguru being a little touchy with [name] and expressing it here and there, but this was a new high. It made her sip the coffee she'd forgotten she had on the side, not sure if she should be there to experience such a thing.

You hummed in content, "Thanks Sugu."

"Should've brushed your hair before coming out." He gently chided, taking a sip of his tea.

"Probably should've changed, too..." You yawn again, taking another sip of water. "But yeah, I'd like to see the kids too, Shoko, when they're ready and all healed up."

Shoko, having been distracted for a moment, returned to her nonchalant self as she grinned, promising to let both of you know when that was possible.

The week of house arrest was a blessing for you, especially before the files for the missions you were undertaking were handed to you by a Window.

There were 2 missions you were asked to undertake - a grade 1 solo mission, and then a special grade one with Satoru.

A special grade with Satoru? If you didn't already feel alarmed, you were definitely feeling alarmed now. Hell, if Satoru is on any missions, it meant that there was serious harm that could be done.

You flipped through the papers wordlessly, your expression changing here and there before going back to normal.

These were the two missions asked by the elders, the ones who you were to obey for the week.

There can't be anything good here, you thought, going through the documents a second time to remember the information.

"Are you going on a mission soon?" Suguru suddenly appeared out of nowhere, nearly making you jump in surprise. His face was right next to yours, overlooking your shoulders to peer at the documents.

"Yeah, these two are for next week. One solo, one with 'toru." You showed him the front pages of each and the basic information.

He let out a low hum in response and pulled back, plucking the papers with him to sift through them.

He already knew they were missions the elders specifically picked out for you, but for one with Satoru? He was sure something was up there.

Of course, you didn't know he knew about your little deal with the elders, and he didn't plan on telling you he knew. Instead, he just showed up wherever you were because he wanted to be near you. And, who knows, the elders might have something planned so he wanted to know you were safe.

"It's too bad I have my own missions to go to. Otherwise I'd have gone with you." He handed you back the papers, seeing your confused expression.

"I'm sure the elders would love that." You spoke sarcastically, but laughed all the same. It would've been great to go on missions with Suguru, just like not too long ago. "Maybe we'll go on missions together soon!"

"I'd like that."

He'll pretend he didn't see the big red words on the special grade mission with Satoru, one which spelled out '2 special grades'.

"So, apparently there are 2 special grades." Satoru ate a crepe filled to the brim with toppings, walking side by side with you as you both headed to the site of the mission.

He'd come back a day or so ago and didn't even bother looking through the documents, leaving it to you since you had them before him. Also because he was strong and he didn't care enough; he would've beaten them regardless.

"Which is why I have no idea why I'm here." You muttered, sighing. You snack on your on crepe, much more simple than his, wondering why in the earth the elders wanted to put you on such a mission. You were semi grade 1, for fuck's sake! Just because you survived a special grade and grade 1 mission before doesn't necessarily mean you'll survive the next ones?!

Satoru glanced at you and took a large chomp of his crepe, munching gleefully. Once he finished that bite, he said, "They should've sent Suguru with me if anything."

"I know right? Special grades against special grades, not special grade and semi grade 1 versus 2 special grades. Are they telling me to die?" You let out an exasperated sigh.

"They're probably planning something." Satoru and you both knew how much they were assholes, but cunning was also a word that could be used to describe them.

He left out the part about how he knew you did this for Suguru, and all the nitty gritty details Shoko filled him in about after he came back from the mission prior. He also left out the information only he has access to, one which was more in line with the ability you had, that the elders were convinced you were able to awaken at a later stage.

After all, if you could unlock your cursed energy output channels so abruptly and have so much CE, there was bound to be some locked potential there, right?

Which is why you were put onto this mission to assist Satoru.

"Let's just get this over and done with." You finished the rest of your crepe, downing some bitter green tea before heading to the Windows waiting at the site.

Satoru followed you, feeling the CE ooze strongly from the site.

This will be interesting.

A couple of nights after you and Satoru went on the mission, Suguru began to get worried. He shouldn't be worried about you since you were with the Gojo heir, but he couldn't shake the feeling something happened to you.

It was when he woke up from a nightmare of you dying in his arms that he feels his stomach drop, and cold sweat run down his face and body.

The feeling was unmistakenably so humane, so real that it fucked his head in. He sat up in bed for a moment, feeling your side of the bed before finding it cold and empty. He started to panic, wondering if the dream was indeed real, but then he realised you were still on a mission, and it's been a couple of days since you went. He sighed to himself, slipping out of the covers to go cool down.

When he opened the door, he saw the light at the end of the hallway was open, the one belonging to the common room.

He didn't know what time it was, but it definitely wasn't a time to be up. But, he still went, curious about who was up this late.

"Satoru?" He questioned, seeing the white haired man in question sprawled out on the couch. "You two finished the mission?"

"Yeah." Gojo leaned back, turning his head to meet Suguru's tired ones. "Can't sleep?"

"Had a nightmare."

"Yikes."

"Where's [name]?"

"Getting examined by Shoko."

"What happened to them?" Suguru didn't want to sound too panicked, but Satoru could see through him right away.

"[name]'s fine. Maybe super tired now since they activated their curse technique for the first time."

"Cursed technique?" Suguru echoed. From what he knew, you didn't have a CT.

"Yeah." Satoru leaned on one side, crossing his legs as he faced Suguru. "Nullfication. Can cancel anything with cursed energy within a radius of 2 metres. Curses die just being in contact with it, but depends on grade."

"Isn't that an extremely rare ability?" Geto had to get himself something to drink, he was parched. He also made one for Satoru as well, knowing he'd want one too after the mission.

"Yeah. It bypassed my infinity." Satoru made an expression as he clicked his tongue, "But then my infinity worked again. Was the first time something like this happened."

Suguru couldn't help but let his jaw drop. "Is that even possible?"

Satoru frowned, taking the cup from Suguru and taking a drink. "I don't know, but the CT uses CE to maintain it. Still trying to figure out how it works."

Suguru breathed out in relief, "Wow."

"Not a moment to be celebrating, Suguru." Satoru clicked his tongue at him again, "I think this was exactly what the elders wanted."

Suguru backtracked for a moment - he knew the elders wanted something, but this? He didn't expect them to look at [name] and go 'this one will have a CT manifested'. Usually CT are manifested at an earlier age, so for you to awaken one so much later was a miracle in itself.

"Back then, and now, too." Gojo let out an exasperated sigh. "Those old bastards."

Suguru finished off his drink, "I'm going to go see them."

"Oh, ok." Satoru saw Suguru's expression, it did hold worry, but it was more contemplative due to the situation around it. He quickly finished off his drink and followed his best friend.

Suguru breathed a sigh of relief he didn't know he was holding when he saw you getting a check up from Shoko. You looked tired, but you were still alive and kicking.

"Sugu? Why are you awake? It's 3am." You raise a brow, then quickly realised Shoko was up too because of you and apologised with a little bow.

"I couldn't sleep." He strode to where you were. The tension in his body was replaced with relief as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. He nuzzled into your hair, even if it was dirty from the mission.

"Sugu? I haven't cleaned up, you know." You let out a laugh as you let him do his thing, giving him a light hug back and some pats on the back.

Satoru made an expression, almost pouty, before he also came over and enveloped both you and Suguru into a hug. "I don't know what's going on but I'll hug you too. Shoko, come!" He dragged her by the arm so everyone was in a hug, much to your delight.

It's been a while since there was a group hug.

"If the elders say anything, drop my name and I'll come kill them." Satoru murmured, ready to throw hands. He nuzzled his face into the top of your head, ignoring how his hair tickled Suguru and Shoko's noses.

"If you do that, let me examine their dead bodies." Shoko joked.

"If there are any difficult missions, bring me or Satoru along." Suguru scrunched his nose as he delved deeper, leaning his body weight on you ever so slightly.

"Guys, I think I'll pass out..." You tapped at their arms, not having enough strength to pull them off.

Not even a minute passed and you were tucked into your bed, the other three shoved into your bed with you, hugging at least one part of your body as they drifted off into sleep.

You were facing Suguru, who hadn't slept yet, but was waiting for you to close your eyes and rest.

"Sugu, let's visit the kids soon, ok?" You yawned, closing your eyes, "Goodnight."

He moved slightly to bump his forehead to yours, moving back when a small smile curled your lips. He was ready to sleep now, and he didn't think he'd have anymore nightmares.

"Let's do that. Goodnight."

A/N: This is almost a little prequel to this angsty one, but can be a fluffy-ish angsty-ish standalone as well!

Fun fact, after Suguru cried his eyes out, his eyes were puffy for the first day of this break, and you and Shoko gave him so much shit for it.

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