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#I won’t stop you- whatever decision you make is yours
seresinhangmanjake · 10 hours
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Don't Touch What’s His
Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x reader
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Summary: Feyd's harpies attack you while you're both asleep in his bed and he gets real mad.
Notes/Warnings: mention of blood and mutilation, inflicted wounds, and possessiveness. Related to the fic titled His, but this can be read alone. Typos (just being real)
Words: 1100
Feyd-Rautha Masterlist
You’re screaming for him before you’re even fully awake, shrieking his name before you can begin to grasp what’s happening to you. All you know is that you’re no longer warm, no longer safe as you’re yanked from his arms and dragged to the bottom edge of the bed. Claws are digging into your calf as primal grumbles and growls and the distinct sound of lips smacking in anticipation reach your ears. Your body is being pulled further and further away, and no pawing at the sheets helps to keep you on the mattress.
Another plea for him is on the tip of your tongue, but then a hand wraps around your arm, engaging in a tug-of-war with whatever monster has a hold on you. Scrapes make lines down your leg as you dig your heels into the bed and back yourself away from the clawed being. You take a few deep breaths and blink, your eyes adjusting to the darkness.
“I told you she’s off limits!” Feyd shouts in a terrifying tone. A tone most commonly reserved for those who inconvenience him: servants and prisoners and his brother. It’s not his low timbre; it’s much more powerful. So powerful that you half-expect a crack to split open the floor.
You blink again and crane your neck to peer over the foot of the bed at who he scolds. Feyd’s harpies are on their hands and knees, staring a hole into your head. It’s a daring choice. When Feyd speaks, those around must be attentive with eyes and ears, but the harpies don’t so much as glance in his direction. They’re here for you, they want you, and clearly nothing else.
“But she looks so yummy,” one of them says, a pout forming on her lips.
“And she smells even better,” the second adds. Her tongue swipes over a sharpened fang.
All three of them begin to crawl across the floor until they’re at your side of the bed. Feyd’s fingers tighten around your arm, his eyes narrowing, and you lean back against his chest just in case they get the idea to lunge at you.
“We won’t eat very much of her,” the third purrs as her hand slithers over the silky sheets, inching toward your body. “Just a few little bites. Plenty left over for our lord na-baron to enjoy.”
When her pointed nails graze your ankle, Feyd leans around you, grabs her wrist, and sharply twists until there's a snap. She yelps. Your body jolts. Tears build in the corners of her eyes. Your jaw drops.
Immediately, they appear to sober up. Their hunger, if still there, doesn’t lust for you so intensely now that fear has taken over.
“You will not sink your filthy fangs into her,” Feyd spits, baring his teeth. “She’s mine. Her flesh, her blood, all of her—mine.” The other two harpies shrink and skitter away from their injured sister. “If I wanted to share, I would have.”
Feyd releases his harpy. She cradles her broken wrist, whimpers emitting from her throat as she scoots back to join the others. They feel safer in a pack. Though you don’t think that will aid them in this case.
“W-We just thought she wouldn’t matter to you,” one of them mutters, her chin tucked to her chest. “We thought you could find another plaything.”
Feyd’s face darkens. The icy blue of his glare wavers under the force of a burning red. As he moves to stand, he jerks you to his side of the bed, separating you from the beastly women by a few more feet.
“What did you just say to me?” he grits out, rounding the mattress and stopping in front of them.
The harpies glance at each other in panic before looking back at their master. “W-We didn't mean–”
“It appears I’ve treated you too well,” he says decisively. “If you’re bold enough to defy my orders, then perhaps you need to be reminded of your place.”
You gulp. You’ve heard that tone. You’ve heard those words. But you have a feeling Feyd’s threats toward his harpies are not as empty as the ones he throws at you, and it makes your stomach squeeze.
Your presence in Giedi Prime’s fortress being the indirect cause of their harm is nothing less than unjust. It’s not their fault their master brought fresh meat home. They cannot control what they are, and Feyd routinely encourages their behavior, excluding only you from the list of bodies they are allowed to feast upon. If anything, this is his fault.
“Get up!” he shouts, and they scramble to their feet.
You rise up on your knees as he turns and yanks open the bedroom door. “Feyd, wait, you don’t have to–”
“Stay!” he snaps, pointing a finger at you.
Your mouth snaps shut and you sit, watching as his harpies obediently follow him out the door. Within the minute, you hear the screams and squeals of pain, and you wince, pressing your hands over your ears.
You don’t know how long you stay in that position. It’s Feyd’s touch that jolts you back into the present.
You look up.
Red is speckled across his torso. You feel a slickness on your face from where he is cupping your cheek, and when he pulls his hand away, you notice the rivers of blood running through the spaces between his fingers.
Without a word, Feyd pushes you down onto the bed, rearranges the covers so they drape appropriately across your body, and crawls under the sheets to settle in beside you.
“What did you do to them?” you ask.
His eyes are already closed by the time the question fully leaves your lips. He blows out a heavy breath through his nose and turns on his side to wrap his arm around your waist. “Removed a few fingers,” he says. “Now go back to sleep.”
“But–”
“Go. To. Sleep,” he grumbles in demand. “Unless you’d rather I change my mind and toss you into their feeding pit…”
It's one of those empty threats, but you don’t press him further. Not for tonight. Tonight he is tired and grumpy and nothing about you pushing him will do you any good. So instead, you allow him to do as he wants. And what he wants is to tuck your head under his chin, eliminate all space between you, and hold you in a grip that is just short of suffocating.
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Francesca Pt. 1
Summary:
It broke Schlatt when he had to let Y/N go, But he would go through hell a thousand times if it meant he got to hold her again.
“If I could hold you for a minute… I’d go through it again.”
Word Count: 1.09 K
TW: Mental Illness, angst, ocd, depression, anxiety, suicidal thoughts, break up, pining, feelings of worthlessness, basically a self insert without a physical description, Based in Texas… because so am I
A/N: I’m totally ok, and definitely not scared of my mental illness… 👀
-Madi <3
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“”“”“”“”“”
Y/N’s POV
My bags are packed before Jay gets home. I don’t want to make this any harder than it has to be. I should probably leave before he gets here, but he deserves an explanation. I’m not really sure what to say when he gets here, but he doesn’t deserve to be ghosted…
When the door opens I regret my decision to stay. He’s holding an H-E-B bag with frozen pizzas and ranch.
My favorite.
The second he locks eyes with me I break down. The bag falls from his hand as he rushes to pull me into a hug.
“What’s wrong pumpkin? What happened?” His voice is filled love and tenderness, very different from his online persona. It makes me cry harder.
“I can’t do this Jay… I-” He pulls me impossibly closer, mumbling a quiet ‘don’t do this’. “I already packed everything into my car. I can’t ask you to stay, I wouldn’t do that to you…”
He knows that I’ve been struggling lately, but I would never ask him to understand the extent of my anguish. I could never tell him about my hours spent researching. The notes. The fear of being alone with myself.
All I’ve ever wanted is to marry the man of my dreams, and have a big family. My mind constantly tells me that I can’t have it…
Nobody would want to deal with you, he’d get tired of it eventually. What if your kids are crazy like you? You don’t want to run the risk that he has to find you dea-
“You aren’t doing anything to me, you don’t have to do this… we can get through this, we can get you whatever help you need… please…”
I’m doing this because I love him. I can tell when he sees the look in my eyes, he mumbles a quick okay before leaving to put the pizzas in the freezer.
I run to lock myself in the bathroom… I feel like I’m going to throw up.
“”“”“”“”“”
When I finally get myself together, I leave the bathroom on a mission to get out quickly. It takes me a while before I realize what’s happening.
“where the hell did you put my keys Jay?” I see him sitting at our table, set with two plates of pizza and two glasses of wine.
“You’re not driving right now… I just heard you have a twenty minute panic attack, you’re in no headspace to drive.” I know he won’t give me the keys, no matter how much I try to convince him. “Do you even have anywhere to go?” I just shake my head. He gets up and walks into our bedroom.
I can hear him on the phone with Ted, he’s asking if I can stay in LA with him. When he returns, we sit down to eat the now cold pizza.
“What did he say?” I didn’t necessarily want to move across the country, but we both know I wouldn’t be able to actually leave well enough alone if I stayed.
I can tell that he’s been crying, but I know that this is what’s truly best for him in the long run. “He said yes, obviously. I’ll drive you to his place, and catch a flight back.” I knew that there was no convincing him to leave me alone for extended periods of time… I wonder if Ted told him not to let me out of his sight.
He probably did.
After dinner Jay offers to sleep on the couch, but I tell him that I don’t want our last night to be spent in different parts of the house.
He holds me as I cry myself to sleep.
This is what’s best for him.
“”“”“”“”“”
The nearly twenty hour drive was silent, stopping whenever the gas gauge lit up. Jay always knew what to get me from the gas station, while I stayed in the car reading. About halfway through the ride he finally decided to play some music, our shared playlist flowing through the tense atmosphere.
I decided to take a nap at some point, and was awoken by Jay gently shaking my shoulder while handing me some food that he had gotten. “We’ve only got about an hour left… you need to eat, and I think we should talk about it.”
No. You can’t handle this, the car ride is hell as is… and now he wants you to talk about why you’re breaking his heart?
“There’s not much to talk about Jay… there isn’t any way to convince me that it was a mistake.” I can see the hurt look in his eyes when I say it, and I really didn’t mean for it to sound so harsh. “I love you so much… and I promise, this is for you.”
He starts to try and argue, before settling on asking about publicity. My only response is that we can deal with it separately. I finish my food, and finish the last few chapters of my book.
“”“”“”“”“”
It takes less than an hour to move all of my stuff into Ted’s guest room.
Ted is my best friend, and we’ve known each other for years. He introduced me to the job prospects of the internet. He introduced me to all of his colleagues when I was first starting on YouTube…
He introduced me to Jay.
After helping move everything in, Jay got ready to fly out. He said a quick goodbye to me, before going outside to talk to Ted.
They were out there for a really long time.
What if he’s convincing Ted that you are a horrible person?
What if they’re working together to get you put away?
What if you opened the window?
What if you jumped?
My phone is in my hand immediately, looking up the likelihood of injury/death from a second story jump. Very unlikely. Shit.
All of the sudden, the walls feel too close. The window is too far. I hear Jay’s Uber leaving, and everything starts to collapse.
This was a mistake. I just ruined the best thing that ever happened to me. It’s too late. He hates me. I should have just left a note and Jumped off the congress avenue bridge.
I can’t breathe.
I hear a soft knock at my door, and hear it creak open. Ted sits down in front of me, placing my hand on his chest. We work on breathing exercises that he taught me years ago. When I finally feel slightly normal, he pulls me into a tight hug.
“”“”“”“”“”
@unbruisable @bernardsbendystraws @sturniolo-fann @jnkvivi @stasiesturn
@h3arts4harry @slutforsturniolos @memento-rory
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crguang · 2 days
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SUSHSNAJAH i love your kafmom hcs can you elaborate more on them?
YES YESVYESYESYES sure. i can do that.
you can’t look me in the eyes and tell me kafka’s not a boy mom sorry… she has a son and he’s her pride and joy, okay. she thinks he’s smarter than regular babies (“he has my genes, naturally.”) and brags about it to the stellaron hunters who don’t give a shit at all except firefly
“he sat up on his own. at this rate, we’ll have to get him checked out. hold on, i took a video.”
“oh my godddd,” silver wolf groans, “you really became one of those insufferable moms who only talk about their kid. disgusting.”
dad energy, like shes a dad. she’s that meme of chris hemsworth holding his kid by the leg at the beach. she checks the list of ingredients of whatever baby food you give her so she can feed him and goes, “i’m not giving him that.” (“kafka, it’s approved.” “by who?”) she always carries him on her shoulders. when he fusses and she has to hand him over to you for feeding, she says, “he wants you because you have the milk, but he told me i’m his favourite.” (he cant talk?)
kafka’s one of those dads who will spend half an hour having conversations with a baby who only babbles and giggles. if you come into the room and ask her what’s going on, she’ll say it’s “between him and her” and wink at your son like he understands what she’s saying
the baby rarely cries when she’s holding him. it’s sickening. she mentions it all the time. she’s a baby whisperer and you’d complain if that didn’t mean you get to take naps without worrying about shrill cries every half hour
funnily enough, kafka understands the fragility of the human body and even more so of a human baby. she does things like throwing him in the air and catching him to make him laugh, spinning him around, etc (it almost give you a heart attack every time to which she only replies, “relax, i got him.”) but she’s aware of his and her limitations so really, he couldn’t be safer with her
she has “days out” with him when she’ll take him somewhere for a morning or afternoon so you can rest and also to ease your separation anxiety if you have any. you need to be able to be without your baby and not die of worry but it’s hard😞
she’s not one of those crazy possessive boy moms who hate when their sons grow up and end up with “other women”, she just teaches him how to pull (“listen, this is how i got your mom wrapped around my finger…”)
she doesn’t smoke as often. she doesn’t really notice it even though it was a habit, cigarette smoke is dangerous for babies so she stopped. you mention it to her once and she shrugged like it was no big deal but she really loves that baby, dude…
she can be very firm. she’s a fun dad but she won’t tolerate disrespect towards you or him putting his life in danger because of stupid decisions he made. baby or teen, she can put her foot down and it’s very rare for her son not to listen to her when she does (she’s always smiling, imagine when her smile drops… shivers)
she’s weirdly understanding. i say it’s weird because she’s never done this before, but that’s precisely the reason why she kinda just follows your lead. she’s also very perceptive so you don’t often have to verbalize what you need, she’ll have it done. no more diapers? she already noticed and got some yesterday. your period is coming up? you’ve been irritable the past few days so she’s been taking more tasks off your plate. she’s just very astute in general and it helps a lot when it comes to having a kid
that baby can dress i’ll tell you that. she shops with him in the cart and asks him for his opinion on which item fits her best (he only cares about the toy in his hand)
she’s still a bad bitch and she has to remind you of that once in a while…
one of those dads who says no to a pet when their toddler becomes articulate enough to beg for one and ends up being the one to take care of it
she’s an early riser so when your son’s still an infant and wakes up during the night she’s often the first awake. depending if he’s hungry or not, she also takes care of it
if we pretend she’s not a deadbeat mom i swear she’d be a great parent like… she’d never in her life expect it to happen and the baby would definitely be an accident but hey! she steps up…!
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shaykai · 3 months
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your fave Hexxat anon here. When you get to the end of her ToB quest, you might have to reload several times to get the right outcome. That final dialogue is a tricky sonova. I had to look up the right answers myself, and I'm a crusty old bastard whose been with BG since the first game came out.
YEAH I HAD TO RELOAD ONCE (and then the second time I feel like I wasn’t nearly as supportive as I wanted to be but I wasn’t about to let that happen again lololol)
Did beat the game the other day, though! Hexxat had a lovely ending <3
And also Sarevok was mad and my one regret is not getting to murder him yet again
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rottenaero · 13 days
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They were gonna put Eddie down like a damn dog.
The group had insisted that Steve visit the hospital today, one year and two months after the incident. It was a random day, and he thought, ‘ why the hell not?’
Family Video had been closed for months, doing ‘ repairs’, so he really didn’t have much else to do.
He thought it was weird, the way the group was as far away from the bed as possible, and how when he entered the room, Hopper almost blocked the exit.
He doesn’t question it though, sidling up to the open chair beside Eddie, who was still asleep after all this time, and punching his shoulder lightly.
“ Hey, Hero.”
He’d taken to calling it sleeping instead of what it was, a coma. Sleeping sounded more peaceful, because with sleeping came dreams and relaxation.
Eddie doesn’t respond, doesn’t react. Steve didn’t expect him to.
He turns his head to Dustin, the one who’d called him in the first place. “ So, why’re we gathered here today? Any updates?” He asks, addressing the whole room.
The boy swallows, and something tells him something’s wrong. Really wrong.
“ Yeah, actually. Uhm, since it’s been so long, we were thinking-“ He cuts himself off, crosses his arms and starts tapping his foot. Thinking, probably.
Hopper glances to him, and sighs, deciding to lead. “ We’re gonna have to let Munson go.” He states.
Steve takes a sharp breath.
“ What?”
‘ Let him go’ like this is a job. Like this isn’t him losing his life. He wonders when they decided to do this, in the hospital room for the ten minutes they were waiting.
Eddie doesn’t give any indication he hears what’s being said, the beeps from the heart monitor still steady and even as ever. A constant metronome of the exact same sound on the exact say beat, all the time, always.
Except maybe not always.
Dustin takes over again, arms placating. “ It’s been a really long time, Steve. We’ve come to terms that he probably won’t wake up, and it’s doesn’t have to be sad-“
“ You’re killing him.” He hisses, “ You’re killing him and it’s not meant to be sad?”
Nancy steps forward, seeing it as her time to speak. “ Steve. You barely knew the guy, and you spend all your time here, it’s not good for you.”
“ There’s been no good signs, no nothing, not even when El looks into his brain.” Dustin nods at the girl across the room, who’s fiddling with her fingers.
Steve furrows his brow, “ Oh, so I guess you’re gonna pull the plug on Max too?”
Lucas’s eyes widen, mouth dropping open, and Nancy glares. “ That is not fair, Steve.”
“ This whole situations pretty fucking unfair, so I guess you’re gonna have to explain to me how this is different from Max.” He stands, stance wide as he points to the man in the hospital bed.
“ Max is making progress.” Lucas says weakly, and El sets a hand on his shoulder. The boy deflates.
He turns toward Hopper and Joyce, the latter still not having spoken. The Byers family had moved back to Indiana for God knows what reason, and Steve knows that if he had the money, that he could’ve moved somewhere else long ago.
“ Does Wayne know you’re killing his kid?” He asks.
He’d met the man while visiting, and they’d usually sit in silence and watch baseball or whatever was on. He never questioned why Steve was there, or why he was holding a limp body’s hand and taking off it’s rings and putting them back on.
When they did speak, it was stories he had from Eddie’s childhood, about how he buzzed his head because a spider crawled on him and he was convinced it was hidden in his hair, making babies.
Hopper pinched his nose, like he was being a pest. “ Stop using words like killing, and yes. He said he didn’t want Eddie to have to suffer, and his bills are getting expensive.”
And he blinks, realization dawning.
This hadn’t just been decided, had it? This wasn’t a ten minute decision while Steve was getting ready to come here.
He speaks, his voice low and keeping even through each word, “ You guys had a meeting.” The ‘ without me’ goes unsaid, but still echoes throughout the room like if would’ve if he shouted it.
They’d decided this whole thing beforehand, somehow knowing that Steve would hang on. And he would, will. He can’t let him die, he can’t lose.
Will nods, and next to him Mike and Dustin look ashamed. He would’ve thought they’d hold out more.
He racks his brain for any reason they should keep alive, can’t find one. Somehow, even without one for them, he has a million for himself.
“ If the bills are the reason, I’ll pay the damn bills. He’s fucking alive.” He tries.
“ You don’t have a job, Family Video is closed. Just let it be, Steve. Please.” Robin had been eerily quiet during this entire conversation, and it brings him chills him when she speaks.
His best friend had been in on it.
He crosses his arms, “ I’ll get a job. Listen, I’ve been having dreams,-“ He lies. He lies because there’s nothing true to prove Eddie is getting better. “-dreams that he’s alive in like a dark space, I don’t know- his mind maybe? I just- I really think he’s in there.”
The hope Dustin gets on his face hurts, but he doesn’t care. The guy will wake up and it won’t matter that the ‘ dreams’ never existed.
Maybe it’s because he’s an optimist, and that’s why he’s trying so hard, as pessimistic as he can be sometimes.
“ Why didn’t you tell us?” Dustin asks and Steve licks his lips.
Why didn’t he tell them? “ Despite all this crazy shit, me having dreams that he’s alive still sounds crazy.” He doesn’t look at the boy as he says this, eyes roaming over Eddie’s face.
He looks serene, the bat bite on his face as healed as it can get. The doctors had mentioned swelling on his back shoulder blades, but Steve thinks his would be swollen too if he sat on them for a year.
‘ A year and two months.’ He corrects himself.
He stares at the hair that, occasionally when it got matted, Steve would go through and brush it, not wanting him to wake up to being bald because a doctor seemed it necessary.
Wayne mentioned how much he hated the shaved head, and he wouldn’t put him through that again.
As he looks at him, he thinks ‘ I’m doing this for you, so you better wake up, asshole.’
Dustin’s eyes are wide, staring at the members of Hellfire. Steve could only describe the look as ecstatic.
“ Holy shit, I mean, holy shit!” He laughs, and Mike breaks into his own grin.
Jonathan chimes in, disbelief sketched into the lines all over his face. “ Sorry, but doesn’t that seem too convenient? I’m not saying you’re lying Steve, just… If El didn’t find anything, that’s pretty much it.”
His lips form into a line, determined. “ I told you, I’ll be paying for whatever. It’s no skin off your back, or money out of Wayne’s pockets.”
Joyce nudges Hopper when he goes to speak, and nods at Steve. “ If you wanna try, sweetheart, you can. But I don’t want you visiting too much, it’s doing you more harm than good.” She wraps him in a hug, before leading the ex-chief of police out of the room.
Slowly, everyone vacates, until it’s just Steve, Eddie, and El.
She doesn’t make a move toward the door, eyes locked onto his face.
“ You’re lying.” She whispers like a secret.
He nods.
She looks toward Eddie, nervous, and she messes with the hem of her shirt when she starts to speak again. “ I lied too.”
She doesn’t elaborate, walking out of the room without anymore information, and Steve blinks.
The hospital has to call Wayne to confirm the transfer, that's how he learns of the circumstances. He doesn't say much of anything, aside from a promise of a visit on Tuesday before he hangs up.
That night, that same fucking night, he gets a call.
It's the front desk lady, voice distressed rushing through an explanation.
" Eddies gone...Only blood in his bed...We don't know where he is."
Steve stares at the wall, the rest of the words falling upon deaf ears.
Someone had probably found out where he was being held, murdered him a year later for his crimes, and stashed the body away.
He sets the phone back in its holster without saying anything to the other line. Not even a goodbye, or a thanks.
He thinks, it only for a second, that he should've let them just pull the plug, it would've been far less painful.
A creaking brings him out of it, and his eyes dart to his door.
It's dark, too dark, and Steve's aware the Upside Down fucked him up in incomprehensible ways, and now every shadow looks like something,
But there was definitely someone in his house.
He keeps slumped on his bed, the same position as when he'd answered the call. He doesn't flinch when the door pushes open enough for a body to slip in.
There's the sound of something dragging along the carpet as they come closer, probably a shotgun, or maybe they're gonna beat him with his own nail-bat.
He doesn't care to decipher the shape, instead shutting his eyes.
A hand grabs his, sets it on dry skin. His thumb touches a rough patch, a scar like feeling.
One his hands had roamed over while patching up his stomach, refusing to get looked at. That concave patch of scratchy skin that they tell you eventually will just be soft, scarred, but normal.
The skin stretches, and he feels a cheek.
Somehow, he thinks if he keeps his eyes shut, he doesn't have to face the thing in front of him, that it somehow isn't real.
A scratchy, disused, and croaky voice sounds out.
" ' Hey, Hero.' "
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eamour · 4 months
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nothing exists outside of you.
when you end up not getting what you want, it’s never because of something or somebody else. no one actually thinks "oh, you weren’t good enough" or makes things happen in your reality that go against your wants. i know this is a hard pillow to swallow but it’s no one else but you doing that. like, for an example, when you get dumped by your partner, when you get denied from your dream university, when things don’t end up going your way or even the opposite, it’s never other people sabotaging you and being in your way.
things don’t exist outside of you, remember that. it’s only you in and out there.
you are your own limit.
but this is exactly where it gets exciting. the most useful and thoughtful quote i have heard so far regarding manifestation is: "it is entirely up to you to decide how much is within you. you declare who you are." this means that NO ONE can ever tell you "no". well, i'm sure they can, but you are not obligated to accept it. you don’t have to force yourself to like things you don’t like, or to settle for things you don’t want. again, you DESIRING a state is enough for it to exist. and there are infinite states and therefore realities out there! think about it this way: there is a version of you, right now, experiencing all of your desires. they have everything you have ever dreamed of. and you wanna know what’s so cool about it? you can be that person!!! infact, you already are them for all states exist within you and belong to you only! creation is fucking done, and just as neville said, your refusal to see that you already are who you wanna be is the reason why you will remain as you are right now.
others can not hinder you.
no one can define your worth. no one can determine your success. no one can make decisions for you and expect you to obey them. no one can create your life. no one can limit you. only if you think that others have power over you, then they can do whatever they want — because you let them!
only you direct your life.
i know life gets hard sometimes. genuinely hard. sometimes it’s unbearable and you feel like being suffocated and you‘ve got a shitty 3d right in your face, demanding you to deal with it, draining you the fuck out, and and and… but that doesn’t have to stop you. it won’t stop you. the outside world is also your creation. it is nothing you have to fear babes. after all, you know it’s only your conceptions of self… it’s just you. really nothing that scary!
get back on track.
now, do yourself a favour, and stop being afraid of circumstances. stop being a slave to your senses. stop giving in. stop thinking so small of yourself. stop belittling yourself. stop being so overly submissive. stop wavering. stop overthinking about every single detail that won’t go your way and remember that there is a wonderful version of you "inside" you that wants to be embodied. how wonderful is that? to be fully in control of your world? and it will only ever be up to you what you do with it!
things can change in a day. your 3d can look so… deranged? if you will? and yet, you could still get your desire the same exact day. NO ONE CAN TAKE AWAY YOUR DESIRES FROM YOU BUT YOU!!!
with love and rage, ella.
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the things you do for love ; satoru gojo
synopsis; satoru begs you to wear the frilly maid dress he bought. against your better judgement, you indulge him.
word count; 7.0k (this was supposed to be short but i miss him terribly)
contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, fluff fluff fluff!!, sickeningly sweet, literally just satoru being down horrendous, lots and lots of petnames (he is embarrassing), he’s ur biggest hypeman, entirely sfw!! (i feel like i have to specify that…), reader is a lil grumpy, satoru gojo is the most insufferable man on earth <3
a/n; this is just a silly lil wip i found in my drafts…. i dont remember what possessed me to write this i just think satoru would cry and fall to his knees and throw up blood if he saw u in a frilly dress
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”— no.”
the word rolls off your tongue, instantaneous, with a decisive kind of sterness. leaving no room for hesitation, doubt or indecision; not a single gap for his argument to fit through, no loophole he could take advantage of to persuade you into giving in.
but despite all that, satoru just won’t back down.
”come on, baby, please?” he pleads, voice coaxing and sugary sweet. you can almost see those puppy dog eyes of his from behind the black glass of his shades. ”i already bought it and everything!”
”i don’t care,” you spit. a halfhearted attempt at appearing annoyed, in hopes it’ll distract him from the strawberry flush of your cheeks. ”i’m not wearing it. you shouldn’t have bought it, in the first place.”
”but sweetheart,” he drawls, tinged with a sadness he knows tugs at your heartstrings. ”it’s so cute. you’ll look so adorable.”
”not happening.”
”but —”
”— no. i’m seriously not wearing it, satoru.”
and it’s harsh, the flow of your words, sharp and firm; but that’s your only option when he gets like this. your only slim chance at survival, being almost painfully direct. that doesn’t stop your resolve from weakening pitifully when satoru’s posture wilts, though, obviously exaggerated but still somehow effective. you debase yourself for being so weak for him. 
but giving in just isn’t an option, this time. 
under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t take too long for him to persuade you. satoru can be annoying, extremely so — but when he’s being so stubborn about something, there’s usually a good reason for it, even if it’s just that whatever he wants you to do will make him happy. to you, it’ll do.
(his happiness is your priority, after all.)
but in this case, there’s just no way. absolutely no way in hell.
he’s still holding that thing up, like he genuinely thinks it’ll support his argument, swaying it lightly side to side. it really, really doesn’t. it does the complete opposite, in fact.
”but angel,” he tries, again. you wonder if he’s eventually going to run out of petnames, or if he’ll just keep cycling through them until he runs out of air to breathe. ”don’t you wanna see how it’ll look on you?”
a sharp scoff flows from your lips. 
he can’t be serious. 
you really, really, really don’t. if anything, you want everything in the world except for that. you’d rather smash a glass bottle into little pieces and eat them one by one. you’d rather sit on satoru’s lap in a room full of other people. you’d rather jump in front of a moving train with explosives tied to your back.
— it’s so frilly. 
you almost couldn’t believe it, yourself. when he barged into the room, cardboard box in hand, fresh from the mail; all while wearing an excited grin, foreboding, but you were too mesmerized by it to even notice. 
it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, so you didn’t think much of it. satoru buying you gifts is not in any way unusual, even and especially if you tell him not to — and usually, it’d be a sweet occasion. the kind of moment you can soak in, drink up, and then recall fondly for the rest of the week. 
every single detail is worth cherishing. how excitedly he always opens it up, eager for your reaction, and how you always thank him, no matter what it is. sincerely, because satoru can be awkward with his affection, but his love bleeds through in moments like these.
from expensive, well-kept bouquets to little flowers on the side of the road; from thought-out gifts to little trinkets; no matter what it is, the sentiment remains the same.
(this made me think of you. i want you to have it. 
i remembered you mentioning this brand. i love you.)
a way for satoru to show his love, without overwhelming himself or you. a way of easing him into it, when everything is still just so new to him. 
buying you whatever catches his eye is the perfect solution, according to satoru. and it exasperates you, sometimes, when you come home to five amazon packages right outside your doorstep — but deep down you know it’s more for him than you. because it makes him happy, to be able to, allowed to show his love for you in ways like this. in normal ways, easy ways, that say more than his words ever could. 
(being granted the luxury of making you happy. of loving you, even if satoru doesn’t think he’s very good at that, just yet. but he is good at impulse buying things he knows you’d like; so that’ll have to do, for now.)
which is why you couldn’t help but let his infectious joy seep into your bloodstream, trickling its way through your veins with a sweet kind of fervour. couldn’t help but smile, a tender curl of your lips, in tandem with his cute little grin. couldn’t help but grow a little bit excited, as he opened the package — 
to reveal a cutesy, frilly, maid outfit.
— and then your mind screeched to a halt. 
the look on your face must have been something special, horrified and flustered in equal measure. almost in disbelief, as he immediately began to gush about the outfit in his hands. look at the bows, isn’t it cute? god, you’re going to look so pretty. i mean, you always do, obviously, but —
you weren’t really listening. all your mind could do was spin in circles, trying to get some read on the situation, but it was just no good. he genuinely, thoroughly, truly and sincerely expected you to put on a goddamn maid outfit. 
if he had bought it for himself, then maybe you would've been at least a little bit excited. you’re sure he'd look good in it; with those big blue eyes of his, that cute, happy grin. so good that your heart would probably combust, a little. melt through the floorboards. 
but no — he wanted you to wear it. 
and despite your instant, firm protests, he just will not give it up. your boyfriend is a stubborn man, so it’s no surprise, but it’s still enough to irk you.
”satoru, for real. no! i’m not wearing it!”
”but you’d look so good,” he whines, loud and grating as he inches closer to you. still holding the dress up like a prize; you back away, instinctively, like it’ll burn if you touch it.
”i don’t care! it’s a maid outfit! why the hell would i ever wear it?” 
sunglasses seated at the bridge of his nose, satoru allows you to catch a glimmer of his eyes — an effective method of persuasion. he definitely knows their power, and he’s definitely flaunting them for the sole purpose of making you falter. that manipulative scumbag.
the fact that it actually works makes you even angrier, though.
a sharp turn of your head, and your gaze falls on the windowpane, lingering there as you grumble under your breath. he’s so annoying. you’re growing more and more flustered by the minute, too. 
”— because you love me?” 
satoru tilts his head, white locks of hair following the movement. soft and silky, nice to run your fingers through, but you chase the thought away as soon as it enters your subconscious. he looks almost hypnotizing under the sunlight, with the golden rays illuminating his features, smoothing over the contours of his face — as if the sun was made solely to shine on his skin.
and ah, you think, there we go. satoru’s classic tactic; using your love for him as a bargaining chip, pouting down at you like a kicked puppy. you like to picture his eyes all watery and glassy, everytime he tries it, as if he’s some rejected cartoon-mascot. so silly. 
valiantly, you fight off the temptation to smile, gracing him with another little scoff instead. shooting him an unimpressed look, a tiny raise of your eyebrow. ”that won’t work on me.”
”aww, come on,” he almost coos, inching closer still. ”don’t you love me? my sweetiepie? my cute lil’ mochi?” 
(he’s getting bolder with the petnames, you note. as if that’d change anything. they’re so cheesy it makes you recoil.)
”obviously.” you deadpan, trying your best not to let affection seep into the words. but you see satoru’s lips curl up, anyway. ”i’m still not wearing it, though. sorry.”
satoru sighs. heavy, exasperated — dare you say defeated? for a second, you delude yourself into thinking he might actually give in, for once, spare you both the trouble — 
until he falls to the floor, knees hitting the soft flooring with a loud thud. awfully dramatic. he clasps his hands together as if to beg and plead, a starved dog at your feet, and gazes up at you with newfound determination.
”please, baby — i’m begging you,” he groans, voice sad and pained, agonized, like you just threatened to break up with him. silly, silly man.
”don’t grovel.” a sigh drops from your lips as the pads of your fingers go to massage your temples. soothing what you’re almost sure is an incoming headache.
and he makes a certain noise, almost a whimper, like you just kicked him in the gut. you glance down at him as if to signal really? with your eyes, lips parting to speak — 
but your breath only hitches in your throat, and no sound comes out.
satoru’s eyes are almost teary. peeking out from behind his shades, big and glassy, eyelashes dewy with what you know are just crocodile tears. he’s far too skilled at it for his own good, though — maybe you should be supporting his acting career, instead of the weird teacher-slash-sorcerer thing he’s got going on.
and you’re weak, you realize, terribly so. because something deep within your chest constricts, at those sad eyes, heart squeezed painfully, and when you speak you note that your voice sounds a lot softer. 
”satoru,” you sigh, again; more resigned this time, a little fatigued. missing the way his eyes glint at the sound, as if sensing an opportunity. ”really. i’m sorry i wasted your money, but it’s just… not happening. okay?” 
attempting to sound delicate, your voice settles on a soothing tilt, like an adult speaking to a tantrum-throwing child. hoping it’ll be enough to make him falter even slightly. 
it isn’t, of course; if anything, his determination only grows. 
”even just for a short while?” he tries, voice sweet and pliant. all daisies and sunbeams, tailormade to tug at your heartstrings. ”just an hour or so! then i’ll be satisfied.”
”an hour? no way!” you scoff.
and this time, you don’t miss it. from behind those shades, a certain glimmer of something flickers through his irises — something keen and observant. a certain dread crawls its way down your spine.
”so it’s fine if it’s less?” he grins, changing tactics, smooth and decisive. ”half an hour. that’s as low as i’ll go.”
”oh my god.” an exhale, drawn out and exhausted, from the very depths of your chest. ”satoru. toru. no. i’m not wearing it at all. this isn’t an auction.”
”but it could be,” he purrs, still on his knees. it makes him look a little bit disturbed. ”c’mon. why are you getting so shy? guess what — i’ll even settle for twenty minutes. just for you.”
oh, he’s just awful. you want so badly to be mad at him, and that teasing, smug, shit-eating little smirk of his — but you can’t. 
not when he looks so effortlessly pretty, bathed in the light of the sun, surrounded by a mellow glow so tender it makes him look something like an angel. not when he’s acting so characteristically himself, so stubborn and infuriating and entirely impossible not to love. 
another sigh. you’re a little surprised you have enough air left in your lungs to breathe it out, and as much as you hate to admit it, you’re beginning to grow just a bit tired of the back and forth. ”i’m not shy,” you huff. ”i just don’t want to. it won’t look good on me, anyway.”
satoru blinks. genuine surprise shines in his eyes, for a second, like you caught him off guard. ”huh? of course it will. why wouldn’t it?”
a pause. gnawing at your bottom lip, you avert your gaze, trying to find the words. ”it’s just… tacky,” you settle on. ”it’ll look weird.”
”it won’t! you’ll look so cute!”
another huff, as your dispassionate, bored gaze meets his. ”and how do you know that?”
satoru's answer is instantaneous. ”you always look cute. just wanna see how you look in this,” he chirps, brandishing the outfit with barely contained excitement. thoroughly giddy. ”when i saw it, i knew it’d look adorable on you. and i’m never wrong!”
a soft pout plays at your lips, in the wake of his eager sincerity. barely noticeable, just a little embarrassed, but it’s there. and satoru’s seen it, finally — the road to victory. he knows he can win this, if he’s smart about it.
”i just wanna see you in it. just for a second. please? pretty please?” he tilts his head, tantalizing, showing off the blue of his eyes and the curl of his lips. ”then i’ll never ask you for anything again. promise!”
”okay, that’s a lie and we both know it.”
the grin that blooms on your lips is a mistake, you quickly realize, because satoru interprets any sign of joy on your face as positive approval. his determination grows.
”yeah, yeah… but i mean it! i won’t bother you if you just wear it once. just once!” he puts a single finger up, to emphasize the point. ”just wanna see my precious baby all frilly and cute. won’t you indulge me, oh my dearest?”
he’s grinning, now, all soft and teasing. it’s more breathtaking than he’ll ever understand. he’ll never even come close to understanding how gorgeous he is, like this — when there’s no one around to perform for, when he can just be himself. when it’s just you, and satoru, and the feeling of having all the time in the world.
(even if you don’t.)
and you know your face must be flushed, a soft cherry red, as your gaze falls to the floor. the heat on your cheeks and neck, the pitter patter of your heartbeat; you feel it all. 
and it’s embarrassing, to find yourself so fervently twisted around someone’s finger — to find that you don’t even really mind. being wrapped around satoru’s finger isn’t so awful, all things considered. it’s a scary thought, for sure, but he’d never abuse the privilege. probably.
— a sigh. 
you still don’t want to wear it. you really don’t. it’s just awful. tacky, and embarrassing, and overall unpleasant. 
… but if it’ll get him to stop nagging you like this… 
and if it’s just for a short while…
silence, only silence, spilling into the sunkissed air. outside your apartment, the sky melts into a buttery orange hue. an intense contemplation is etched into your eyes, and satoru takes note of it; opting to put the final nail in the coffin. his very last bid.
”fifteen minutes. then you’re —”
”ten minutes,” you cut him off. sounding just a tad exhausted — resigned to your fate. 
and satoru doesn’t even bother trying to hide his excitement. suddenly beaming, he shoots up to his feet, and it causes you to jolt. ”perfect,” he grins, holding the dress out toward you. a little too eager for your liking.
”— but seriously. i’m only wearing it once. never again,” you tilt your head. ”got it?” satoru just nods, happily, so excited he’s practically jumping up and down — and despite everything, you still can’t find it in you to be angry. 
he looks so earnestly giddy.
eyes brimming with suspicion and weariness, your hands reach out to take it into your arms; the puffy dress, the frilly headwear, and the black thigh highs. you’re surprised he didn’t invest in a pair of shoes, while he was at it. just to complete the set.
(you decide not to comment on it, knowing he’d have some poor, overworked shoemaker on the phone within seconds.)
”need my help putting it on?” he purrs, face suddenly very close to yours — and the sudden stutter of your heartbeat sparks a hitch of your throat. desperate to cover it up, you shoot him a hefty glare.
”oh, shut up,” you hiss, but satoru only grins wider. soft little giggles flowing from his lips, like a schoolgirl teasing her upperclassman. silly.
a heavy hesitance rests on your features, as you give the outfit another chance. judgemental eyes trailing over the bows and frills, giving it a thorough look, until your lips curl down into a soft frown. it’s not that bad, but…
”it’s kinda ugly,” you lie, decisively.
”really? i think it’s cute, though.” 
”yeah, ’cause you have no taste.” a click of your tongue. ”what’s so great about maid outfits, anyway? i don’t see the appeal.”
satoru smiles. carefree, amused — still very much teasing. ”well, we’re about to find out,” he chirps.
you give him a look, eventually giving way to a soft exhale. ”fine — but only ten minutes. at most.” a pause, as you stop to think. what else? ”oh, and no taking pictures.”
”— i’m taking pictures.”
the exasperated look you send his way doesn’t seem to phase satoru even in the slightest. he continues to smile at you, unbothered, soft around the edges, and you know you’re not winning this one either.
”… fine,” you sigh. ”but — not too many, okay? and you aren’t allowed to show anyone, either.”
”of course not,” he scoffs, almost offended. ”as if i’d let anyone else see you like that.”
stuck between feeling relieved and put off, you settle on simply letting it go. and satoru continues to speak, reassuringly, glossy lips shining in the sunlight as they part.
”rest assured, baby,” he hums, a melodic lilt to his sugarsweet voice. ”this stays between us. i swear on my honour.”
you snort. ”like you’ve got any of that.”
”mean. anyway — c’mon. i can’t wait any longer.” before you can think to protest, he’s ushering you away in the direction of the bathroom, big hands heavy on your shoulders as they push you. still hesitant, you make no move to resist.
(what have you gotten yourself into?)
with one final sigh, your fingers curl around the doorknob, outfit hanging off your arm. not before sending one final glance back at satoru, reinstating your conditions. ”just this once. then you’re selling it. or burning it.”
”yes, yes — you have my word,” he promises. before you can narrow your eyes, he pushes you forward, gently; bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet. ”go on, i’m waiting!”
”yeah, yeah…”
the door closes behind you with a soft thud, and the reality of the situation begins to finally dawn on you. the maid outfit weighs heavy on your heart, but light in your arms — you gaze down at it with pure contempt. it’s not like you have a choice, though. satoru won’t let you wriggle away from this one. and maybe, just maybe, a part of you wants to indulge him, after all.
(his smile shone so brightly, in the light of the sun.)
and it’s almost cautious, the way you begin to dress yourself; first the thigh highs, black and silky, then the outfit itself. pulling it over your head, your arms sneaking through the openings. 
it’s a perfect fit. 
a second passes. you stop to think, brows furrowing in suspicion — did the little bastard measure you? just to make sure he got it exactly right? he has been rummaging through your closet more than usual, recently, but you didn’t think much of it. over the years, you’ve conditioned yourself not to question the things that he does. that sneaky, sneaky man.
after putting on the headwear, you finally lift your gaze, tentative and slow — to take a peek at your own reflection. the flush on your face stands out, a contrast to the black and white colour scheme of the outfit. 
and you can’t help but exhale, a little exasperated.
it’s so… frilly. there are frills on the sleeves, on the shoulderpads, on the skirt, on the hems… everywhere. little bows litter the surface of the smooth fabric, a big one attached to the collar, and several smaller ones across the sleeves. 
and as much as you loath to admit it — it is kind of cute. 
still, you can’t shake the feeling that you’re only embarrassing yourself. it’s hard not to think, when a maid outfit is staring into your soul through the mirror — and you just so happen to be wearing it.
(what the hell are you even doing?)
a low groan slips from your lips, and you crouch down, to bury your face in your knees. the flush of your cheeks is beginning to spread towards the tips of your ears, growing hotter by the minute. satoru’s about to see you like this, of all people. how on earth will he react?
(what if he thinks it looks weird, too?) 
”i’m still waiting!” a voice suddenly exclaims, sing-songy and sweet, and closer than you realized. has he just been standing there and waiting in silence, this whole time? of course he has.
”just —” you croak out, words a little strangled. ”just… give me a minute.”
satoru lets out a high-pitched whine, cheek pressed against the cold wood of the door. ”but i’ve been waiting so long already!” he complains, pouting, the urge to see you growing unbearable. impatience tugging at his heart, so excited he can barely pull himself together.
(all he can think of is you, you, you.)
curling up into a little ball, you attempt to swallow the bundle of nerves in the back of your throat — but that jittery, feather-light feeling of your heartbeat just won’t go away. it makes you feel a little paralyzed.
you're actually, genuinely, sincerely about to go show off a goddamn maid outfit. what the hell.
when you finally grasp control over your vocal cords and part your lips to speak, the voice that spills out into the air sounds more than a little meek. but you can’t quite bring yourself to care, overcome by a heart-tingling nervosity and the heat of your skin.
 ”… i don’t want to.”
satoru pauses. 
he can picture you, in his mind’s eye; the way you must look, right now. clad in frills and a cute little skirt, face flushed red and embarrassed, as you shift from foot to foot. and it takes concentrated effort, to bite back the coo that threatens to crawl up his throat — but he knows it’s still not too late for you to change your mind. if he wants to see you, he needs to be careful. so he tactfully opts not to tease you.
”come on, angel,” he soothes, instead. voice smooth like honey, like coffee with cream and too much sweetener. ”don’t be embarrassed.”
you stay silent, still attempting to suffocate the tinge of humiliation in the depths of your chest. so satoru continues. ”just come on out, hm? might as well get it over with. then you won’t have to think of it again.”
a moment passes.
”… do i have to?”
the corners of his lips curl up.
ah, you’re so cute. all embarrassed, almost childish, in the way you’re still trying to be difficult; and satoru just indulges you, all too eager to get you to show yourself to him. ”yes, you do,” he coos. ”be good f' me and come on out, okay?”
a couple moments pass. eerily silent, growing second by second. the only sound that fills the air is that of satoru’s soft breathing, the distant whirring of the ceiling fan.
until finally, he hears the squeak of the bathroom floor. you stand up, turning to glance at your reflection in the mirror one last time, before hesitantly reaching for the doorknob.
it’s slow, the way you open the door, agonizingly so — pushing at it slightly and dragging the movement out. and you can feel satoru’s presence, right behind it, as he takes a step back to give you space. when you finally step over the threshold, you adamantly refuse to meet his gaze.
(satoru’s breath hitches in his throat.)
there you stand, gaze stubbornly averted, expression flustered and mildly annoyed. cheeks dusted a dark cherry-red, that crawls towards the tips of your ears as you fidget with your frilly, oversized sleeves. they’re dressed in little bows, awfully cute, and so is the skirt — short, but not enough to expose the skin of your thighs above the thigh highs. you still squirm a little, thighs pressed together. 
and then, of course, the big bow on your collar to complete the look. pink in colour, a stark contrast to the whites and blacks of the remaining outfit.
after a moment passes with nothing but pure silence, your lips part to speak. doing anything you can to stop yourself from looking over at the man in front of you, afraid of what you’ll see. ”i don’t think it suits me,” is muttered, a tiny huff. ”… and i still don’t see the appeal, by the way.”
— but satoru doesn’t answer. 
he just stares. uncharacteristically silent, in a way you’re wholly unaccustomed to. enough so that you find yourself gnawing at your bottom lip, fidgeting with the hem of the skirt, hoping the smooth texture will soothe your nerves a little. the beating of your heart resounds in your ears, sending blood flowing through your veins with excited pumps.
the silence festers, and all you can do is let it grow, your nervosity thickening with it — until it’s just too much to bear. 
(ahh, you knew it. it really does look weird, doesn’t it? that’s to be expected. 
still, you can’t help but feel just slightly dejected.) 
”… why aren’t you saying anything?” 
the little mumble comes out sounding embarrassed, and maybe just a little defeated, too. but satoru doesn’t hear it. as your gaze falls on the man in question, slowly, you take in his expression with a frown on your face — and realize that he isn’t just keeping quiet. 
he’s completely stunned. 
no matter how hard you stare, you can’t seem to get a good read on his expression. he’s just standing there, face completely blank, eyes entirely obscured by the black of his shades. the light streaming in through the glass of the windows has shifted its course, falling away from the two of you — but you still see the vague, red tinge crawling up his neck. 
and as soon as you spot it, satoru begins his descent.
crouching down to the floor, silently, he brings his hands up to cover his face. feet against the ground with his knees folded, pressed against his chest, stilling as he inhales sharply. shades seated on top of his head, pushed up by his hands when he buried his face in them. a groan drops from his lips, muffled by the skin of his palms — but you can hear it clear as day.
”hold on, just… give me a minute…” he finally croaks out, words somehow tiny. almost shy. 
upon closer inspection, you realize your eyes weren’t deceiving you — there really is a red hue to his neck, one you aren’t used to seeing on him. strawberry-tinged dust, staining his smooth skin, the tips of his burning ears. satoru actually looks flustered, for once. and your heart can’t help but flutter.
— he thinks he might actually, genuinely die.
it’s a wonder, he thinks, that he managed not to fall to his knees the very moment he laid eyes on you. all dolled up; frilly and cute, in his own words, though they don’t come even close to properly describing how adorable you look right now. with your flushed face, shy eyes, and all those little frills and bows adorning your dress. rendering him speechless, clogging up his throat with pure unbridled love. a mouthful of honey, too sweet for even him to swallow.
god. god. he really, really needs to pull himself together.
crouched down like this, face hidden behind his hands, he can physically feel himself grow more and more flustered. senses invaded by the sound of his heartbeat, deep and visceral, until it’s all he can hear — he knew you were going to look cute, obviously, but he was seriously underestimating you. your cuteness is lethal. 
even just the sight makes him weak in the knees. even just the thought of you makes him feel a little like his heart is attempting to break out of his chest. hurling itself at his ribcage with ferocious resolve, like he could keel over and die of heart failure at any given moment. he’s pleasantly surprised that he’s managed to suppress the loud squeal his body keeps trying to let out, honestly.
and while satoru struggles with his deep, internal turmoil, all you can do is watch. looking down at him with wide eyes, as his skin flushes a bright pink, like little chrysanthemums blooming from his neck up to his ears. 
yeah, you think, there’s no doubt about it. satoru is flustered. it’s not a side of him you get to see very often, so you can’t help but be just slightly caught off guard. staring at him silently, until you snap out of it, eyes simmering with something soft and delighted.
he’s so cute.
(and maybe, just maybe — it makes you want to tease him, a little bit.)
so you crouch down, facing him with your knees against your chest, jaw resting on your crossed forearms as you gaze at him. he’s still not looking at you, face hidden behind his palms, shying away from your view.
and then you sigh. the sound catches his attention, soft — and just a little bit dejected.
”… you’re the one who wanted me to wear it,” your lips curl down into a pout, ”and now you won’t even look at me?”
satoru stiffens. 
(you sound sad. you sound disappointed.)
slowly, he parts his fingers, desperate to soothe you — blue eyes peeking out through the gaps, as if the sight of you could blind him. he then proceeds to move his hands, tentative, laboured, like he’s dragging heavy weights off his body. like it’s a struggle. 
with his face finally exposed, all flushed and pretty, bright azure eyes stare at you; brimming with pure adoration. 
satoru exhales, almost shaky. he has to take another moment to simply look at you, as if drinking in every inch of your expression. memorizing every corner of the face he’s grown to love so much.
a moment passes. then two.
then, he practically pounces on you — engulfing you like a tidal wave, trapping you in his big arms as they go to curl around your waist. shades falling off at the impact, hitting the floor with a soft thunk.
”you’re killing me,” he whines, loud and right by your ear. nuzzling into you, squeezing you like he’s a puppy with a chew toy. ”you’re so, so, so cute. d’you want me to have a heart attack?”
a hitch of your breath. that’s all you can manage, utterly failing to keep up with him as he presses you up against his chest. rocking you back and forth in his embrace, smearing open mouthed kisses across your skin; whining and murmuring about how adorable you look. 
a flurry of warmth, of love, of something a little too precious for words. something distinctly satoru, that makes you forget about everything else — as if the world stops spinning somewhere outside of his arms. as if that’s where you belong.
all you can do is indulge him. maybe you’re spoiling him a little too much, but it feels nice; letting him drown you in his overwhelming affection. the thought of creasing the dress doesn’t even seem to cross his mind, as he squeezes the life out of you.
evidently, satoru suffers from an acute case of cuteness aggression. 
”so adorable,” he murmurs, leaving wet kisses on your cheeks. his exaggerated mwahs make you feel just a tad shy. ”my little sweetheart. all dressed up for me.” 
squirming in his hold, he only brings you closer, smothering you in his warm embrace. the slightly erratic beating of his heart is all you can hear, with your cheek squished against his chest. arms keeping you nice and still, lips lingering over that one ticklish spot behind your ear. 
a little giggle slips from your lips, and satoru feels himself smile; wide and giddy, boyish and adoring. nuzzling into the comfort of your chest, soft fabric brushing against his skin, a low whine escapes his throat. ”can't take it. wanna put you in my pocket.”
”your pocket?” a grin blooms on your lips, words dripping with honeyed amusement. satoru grins right back.
”my pocket,” he hums, approvingly. ”you’re just so cute and small. gotta keep you close, so i don’t lose you.”
a huff, lighthearted. 
suddenly, the grip around your midriff tightens — and you’re hoisted up, stumbling a little as satoru lets go of you. still holding onto you by your wrists, softly, delicately, as if you’re made of glass. when you lift your head, all you can see is his satisfied little grin, and the twinkle of his eyes.
your heart flutters. 
satoru gazes at you, silently, still drinking you in. every second spent staring into the brightness of your eyes fills his heart up just a little more; colourful, heart-shaped candies, scooped up and poured into the hole in his chest. patching it right back up, so effortlessly sweet that it makes him want to pluck every star from the sky and offer them at your feet. 
”alright,” he breathes, taking a step back. breaking the delicate silence, a little dance between him and time. fingers still curled around your wrist. ”do a twirl for me.”
a humoured scoff. ”hell no.”
”aw, come on! you gotta pose for the photo, baby.”
before you know it, satoru’s got his phone out — and it’s aimed right at you. by the time you notice it, you’re fairly certain he’s already managed to snap a couple pictures. so all you can do is sigh, in faux exasperation.
”c’mon, c’mon,” he coos. ”give me a smile, pretty.”
a roll of your eyes, as you bite your lip to muffle a soft bout of laughter. it doesn’t really work. ”i’m good.”
satoru seems unaffected by your words, pulling back from your touch reluctantly; just so he can make a show out of playing the cameraman, switching between elaborate positions and taking pictures from angle after angle. somehow, you get the feeling he’s forgotten your request to keep the pictures to a minimum.
(he looks like he’s having fun, though. so you let it slide. just this once.)
”god. you’re way too cute for your own good, you know that?” he murmurs, leaning down to take another picture. and it flusters you, how smoothly the words slip from his lips, how it seems like he barely even has to think about them at all. 
it’s a little embarrassing, in a heart-fluttering kind of way. but you do your best to hide it.
”you’re a sap,” is all you say, soft smile playing at your lips. 
”and you’re adorable,” satoru grins. 
then he slips his phone into his back pocket, satisfied with the collection, and grabs your hand.
his fingers curl around yours, softly — and then he lifts it up. bringing it to his lips. they’re warm, as he kisses across your knuckles, the tips of your fingers. soft as a feather, tickling your skin. 
(as if he’s whispering psalms under his breath. as if he’s worshipping you.)
then he tilts his head, eyes gazing at you sweetly. sweeter than fresh mandarin slices, splotches of marmalade, his favorite caramel fudge. and his eyes crinkle, crow’s feet and dimples peeking out as he smiles, an easygoing kind of joy blooming on that pretty face of his — youthful, boyish. it suits him more than anything.
his voice comes out smooth, awfully coaxing. so very easy to give in to, paired with that breathtaking grin. 
”one tiny twirl?” he asks, politely.
he’s so annoying. 
(but you’re far too in love to say no.)
so with a single roll of your eyes, and a soft little scoff, you relent. indulging him once more, just one more time. just one little twirl.
satoru feels his heart squeeze painfully, deep within his chest, as he watches you spin around. skirt and frills ruffled by the movement. just once, a soft little twirl with your fingers intertwined. far too precious for his heart to take.
when you stop, just a tiny bit dizzy, he leans in, and the kiss he leaves on your forehead is soft. chaste, but it still pulls a blissful sigh from the back of your throat. satoru’s lips curl up against your skin, before he pulls back — eyes almost overflowing with affection.
”cutie.”
you blink. 
averting your gaze, flustering a little under the weight of his love-filled eyes, all you can do is emit a soft little huff. embarrassed, as it flows from your lips. but it only makes satoru’s smile grow further.
”okay, okay. you’ve had your fun.” you clear your throat. ”time’s up.”
suddenly, satoru’s eyes fill with something akin to dread — nose crinkling, just barely, a sign of his displeasure. ”noooo,” he whines, draping his arms around you. tugging you close. ”just a little more? please? pretty please?”
”nope! we said ten minutes. no take backs.”
”can’t i have an extension? since i’m your favorite?” satoru pouts, puppy dog eyes in full force. only this time, they don’t work as well as he’d hoped.
”nope,” you repeat, popping the p. ”sorry.” another whine buzzes right by your ear, and you smile. 
”and then we’re burning it.”
”noooo!” 
”sorry, but it’s gotta go.” you bite back a soft grin. satoru sounds agonized, voice dripping with grief, and it makes your heart dance with barely contained laughter.
”but then you can’t wear it anymore, baby…”
”that’s kinda the point, toru.”
”but you’re so cute in it,” he pouts, bringing you closer still. squeezing at your waist and rubbing his cheek against the top of your head. ”it’d be such a waste if you never wore it again, don’tcha think?”
he’s trying his best, you can tell — attempting to make you falter, coax you into wearing it just a little longer. but for today, you’re done indulging him.
”well, too bad.” nuzzling into his neck, your tone settles on a firm tilt; decisive, as you nip at his skin. just a little teasing. ”i said i’d never wear it again, and i meant it.”
a moment passes. maybe it’s the warmth of your lips on his skin, or maybe he can tell you aren’t budging — whatever the case, satoru finally seems to relent. an exhale tumbles from his tongue, deep and drawn out. ”fineee,” he drawls. ”i’ll just buy you a new one.”
”i won’t wear it. i’ll just get angry.”
”at lil’ old me? really?”
”really really,” you click your tongue. ”if you love maid outfits so much, why don’t you wear one yourself?” a beat. ”it’d look good on you.”
satoru perks up, suddenly. pulling away so his eyes can meet yours, bright and teasing, glazed over with something excited. ”oh?” he purrs. ”you wanna see me in one, huh? so bold, baby.”
a scoff slips from your lips, sharp but tinged with laughter. ”well, it’s only fair, right?” grinning up at him, your hand reaches out to smooth away his bangs. fingertips trailing across the expanse of skin, touch so very tender that his eyes flutter shut. ”i think you’d pull it off better than i ever could, anyway.”
a hum buzzes in his throat, seconds ticking by slowly; a dance with him and time. an attempt to prolong the softness of the moment.
”hmm… well, i’ll consider it.” just barely holding back a smile, he leans into your touch. ”you gotta wear it with me, though. we can buy a matching set!”
”that makes no sense,” you huff, with a raise of your brow. ”i’ve already worn it once, so next time, it’s gotta be all you.”
”sorry, baby, but you need to do it too.” he cradles you close, smoothing a palm down your spine, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. chest rumbling with the smooth timbre of his voice, words rich with teasing fondness. ”i’m too shy to do it by myself.”
and you really, really wish you could be angry with him — but it’s just impossible. 
satoru is just way too lovable, smile far too sunny and warm for you not to melt under. and his caress says more than words ever could, light and doting, careful and loving; like how a believer cups a handful of holy water. as if you could slip from his grasp at any moment, so he has to keep you extra close.
in the end, all protests and complaints die on your tongue. you only laugh, soft and breathy, filling the air with a fondness so palpable you can almost taste it. bordering on something close to a scoff, but never quite getting there. 
eventually, satoru does — begrudgingly — let you change out of the outfit. whining a little, sulking a tad, before brightening right back up again. like clockwork, the sun peeking out after a rain shower, the calm after the storm. always that same happy smile, wrapping you around his little finger.
satoru, in all his glory; your very own pocket of sunshine. annoying, stubborn, thoughtful — 
and yours, wholly and thoroughly.
(while you’re busy gazing at him adoringly, satoru grumbles under his breath. contemplation painted on his features, as his mind spins in circles. frills, bows, lace…
what kind of design would make him look the prettiest for you?)
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luxaofhesperides · 6 months
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Soulmate AU: First Words + End of the World ; requested by @justwannabecat!
Duke has long since accepted that he doesn’t have great luck. Most things in his life tend to go wrong very quickly, or complicate situations he was already struggling in (see: being a meta and getting his powers in the middle of a fight). Having an incomprehensible soulmark is an unpleasant discovery on the morning of his nineteenth birthday, but not entirely unexpected.
He had been hoping for something simple, a common one like hi it’s nice to meet you or sorry, didn’t mean to bump into you.
What Duke gets instead isn’t even words. 
Scrawled across his left hipbone is a string of symbols glowing a faint green. They’re not in a language he recognizes, and the symbols seem to move, shifting ever so slightly so they look different every time he blinks.
“Well,” he says after a solid five minutes of staring into the mirror, unable to rip his eyes off his soulmate’s words, “I hope theirs looks nicer than mine.”
He spends his birthday in a bit of a daze, enjoying time spent with the Waynes and his friends. It’s hard to be fully present when he’s all too aware of the soreness on his hipbone flaring up each time he moves. It’s hard to keep his mind off of it, wanting nothing more than to search for answers, unravel the mystery of his soulmate’s first words.
“Something on your mind?” Jason asks, as the attention shifts off of him for a brief moment as Harper and Cullen get ready to leave and everyone rushes to give their goodbyes,
Duke shrugs, carefully keeping his hands still so they don’t drift to where his soulmark is hidden beneath his clothes. “Yeah. Nothing you need to worry about, though.”
Jason looks him over critically, then nods. 
Duke resigns himself to being investigated by the rest of the Bats. If he’s off enough that Jason had to comment on it, then that means everyone’s noticed and are trying to figure out what’s happened. They’re not going to ask him, because they think he needs space to work through whatever’s got him so distracted, but they’re also not going to just do nothing. 
This won’t be the first time they’ve done this. Duke expects it. Frankly, it would be stranger and much more concerning if they didn’t try to dig up all his secrets the moment they caught wind of him hiding something.
He’ll tell them about getting his soulmark soon. Soulmarks can appear on any birthday between the ages of thirteen to twenty five; they might suspect he got his, but they won’t be able to confirm.
For now, Duke can keep his soulmate’s first words (whatever that gibberish means) to himself.
He makes the decision then and there, as his birthday party winds down, to tell them in a week.
And because his luck is abysmal, a world ending threat hits five days later and suddenly there is no time for soulmarks and first words.
Duke is the last to arrive at the Fortress of Solitude, hitching a ride from Superboy to get there. The biting cold and the harsh winds keep the place far from the reaches of the rest of humanity, surrounded by nothing but deadly white. 
Desolate as the landscape is, it’s still in better shape than the rest of the world.
Things would be better if it was alien invaders. It would be more bearable if some sort of cosmic colossus tried to eat their solar system. At least then there would be something physical that they could fight.
Instead, the world is breaking apart, the sky and earth both fracturing to reveal glowing green faultlines. Timelines are getting mixed up and muddled; just yesterday, Duke had to evacuate a building that had been demolished forty years ago, then stop a gang leader who wouldn’t be born for another eight years from taking over a neighborhood block and holding the residents hostage. Strange creatures are appearing out of nowhere, crawling out of shadows and tide pools and from beneath the roots of trees, all horrible, monstrous things that go after people with teeth and claws. 
The Flashes and the rest of the speedsters are nowhere to be found. The last time anyone get communication from them, it had been Impulse sending Red Robin a glitchy, barely audible video chat saying something along the lines of “trying to fix—unstable—keep us here—never been alive before.” All things that are very concerning to hear, made worse by the fact that no one had been able to contact them at all. 
The quiet loneliness of the Fortress of Solitude is a welcome change from the constant screaming, death, and destruction that’s taken over Gotham as well as the rest of the world. Last he heard, even Justice League China was at the end of their rope. 
“In here,” Superboy instructs, guiding Duke through the halls. There’s no time to look around at Superman’s secret base. All his focus is stuck on staying conscious for another few hours to see if this gathering of heroes is able to find a solution to the world breaking apart.
Batman stands besides Superman. Both nod at Duke when he enters the room. Wonder Woman is watching over John Constantine as he writes something on the floor, muttering under his breath. The rest of the Justice League lean against each other, visibly exhausted as they wait for Constantine to finish up what he’s doing. A few other heroes are here too, and Duke goes to join them where they lean against a wall, fighting to keep their eyes open.
“Hey,” he greets, voice low. “Hanging in there?”
Wonder Girl sighs. “Somehow. I don’t know how much longer we can do this. There’s just too much…”
“We’ll get through this. I mean, even without us out there, plenty of civilians have formed rescue and relief groups to help with keeping things under control,” Speedy says, gently knocking her arm against Wonder Girl’s. “We just gotta keep going. No giving up.”
“What’s this plan, anyways? I just heard that they needed me here to some attempt to fix things.”
“Well, without the speedsters, you’re kind of the only one who can help with time and power related stuff,” Speedy says.
“That’s definitely a stretch. My powers don’t really have anything to do with time. It’s all just light and shadow.”
Speedy shrugs. “Well, you’re here, aren’t you? Too late to complain about it now.”
Duke doesn’t get a chance to say anything else when a loud clap catches his attention. The entire room goes still and silent as Constantine stands up and surveys the circle and symbols he’s written, taking up an entire corner of the large room. 
“Alright,” he says. “Time to get started. Remember, let me do the talking. If you have to speak, it’s only to back me up or when a question is directed to you.”
Batman nods to the other Justice Leaguers, and suddenly everyone is falling into formation behind Constantine. Duke hurries to join them with Wonder Girl and Speedy, taking a place on the edge of the group where he’s a little closer to the circle than the others. 
Constantine begins chanting. His voice is steady though none of the sounds make any sense, refusing to form themselves into recognizable words, and the air the in the room feels heavier. The chalk circle glows a blinding white and Duke can see magic swirling through the air, his power kicking in the let him watch as reality tears and a glowing star in the shape of a boy comes out of it.
Duke blinks, forcing his power down. The hypnotic swirls of magic fade from sight, but the boy still glows, bright and terrible as he floats above the circle and surveys them all. A crown engulfed in blue flame hovers above his head and the fabric of the cosmos is draped over his shoulders as a cape. 
Just from presence alone, Duke can tell that this figure is now the strongest existence in this universe. He hopes this boy king is kind; no one, not even Superman, would be able to beat him in a fight.
The boy king opens his mouth and speaks, but it’s not words than comes out. A strange static like sound emerges, but light and almost melodic. 
His left hipbone burns.
Duke gasps, hand flying down to it, and the boy king’s gaze snaps to meet his.
The world stands still. No one moves. No one dares to breathe.
And then the boy king drops to the floor and walks out of the circle.
“I thought you said that would hold him!” Batman hisses at Constantine, who is looking more and more distressed.
“It was supposed to! I wrote it specifically to hold the King of the Infinite Realms!”
The boy king glances at Constantine. This time, when he speaks, it’s in smooth English. “Did you name the king in your circle?”
“Yeah, I named Pariah Dark… Bloody hell, you ain’t him, are ya?”
“No,” the boy king smiles, “I’m Phantom.”
The cape and crown fade away, and suddenly it’s not an all powerful, terrifying king standing before them, but a young man with white hair and green eyes who looks Duke’s age. Like he could be any other new generation hero in the room. 
“Phantom,” Duke repeats lightly, just under his breath, but it makes Phantom look at him again.
He walks forward, ignoring the other heroes’ aborted attempts to stop him, coupled with Constantine’s frantic back off motion happening behind him. Phantom leaves the circle and the Justice Leaguers behind to stand before Duke, a soft smile on his face.
“Hi,” he says softly, “I dreamed of you.”
“You—what?”
“I dreamed of you. I have for years now. To think that being summoned was what made us meet—” Phantom breaks off into a breathless laugh.
Duke swallows, then drops his had from where it had been pressed against his hip. “So we’re really—? You have my first words too?”
In the corner of his eye, he sees Batman stiffen up. Maybe he should have just told them the day after his birthday, but in Duke’s defense, this is the definition of extenuation circumstances. 
“First words?” Phantom repeats, “Is that… Do we have different soulmate connections?”
“I think so. Here, everyone gets the first words their soulmates say to them appearing somewhere on their body.”
Phantom’s gaze darts down to Duke’s hip, then back up. “Oh. I get dreams. Where I’m from, we dream of our soulmates, and the closer we get to meeting them, the more we remember the dreams.”
“And you dreamed of me.”
“I did.”
“As touching as this is,” Constantine interrupts, and Duke gets to watch as Phantom rolls his eyes, “We summoned you here for a reason. Our world is falling apart at the seams and we need someone powerful, from the Realms, to help us fix it.”
“Okay.”
“...What do you mean ‘okay’?”
“I’ll help,” Phantom says.
“Just like that? No deal to be made, no price to be paid?”
“Just like that. I’m not one for deals anyways. If I can help, then I will. But I do want to see what the problem is with my soulmate by my side, if you don’t mind.”
Batman steps in, fixing Duke with a steady gaze, a barely noticeable tilt of his head. “Signal?”
“Yeah I’ll go with him. Of course I will. The sooner the better, in fact, because everything’s gone to shit.” Duke turns to Phantom, taking hold of one of his hands. “It is really bad out there,” he warns, “If you need help—”
“I’ll ask for help from others in the Realms,” Phantom says. “No offense or anything, but if it’s really that bad, I doubt living mortals will be able to do much to fix things. It’s why I was summoned, right?”
“Right. Let’s get to it, then.”
There’s a flash of mischief in Phantom’s eyes, and cheeky grin stealing across his face for a moment, before he says, “Aye aye, captain!” and picks Duke up like he weighs nothing and flies up through the ceiling.
Duke is able to hear everyone’s surprised, panicked shouts before they’re outside the Fortress of Solitude and Phantom is flying them away. He only needs a few directions from Duke before he finds the first of the large fractures in the sky.
“Yikes,” is all he says, which is not a great thing to hear. “I think I know how to fix it, though. We’ll need to do a little investigating as to who, exactly, started messing around with reality, but once we find the source, it’ll be an easy fix.”
“That’s the best news I’ve heard all week.”
“Even better than meeting your soulmate?”
“I haven’t slept for more than four hours all week. Knowing there’s an end in sight beats everything else.”
Phantom laughs, throwing his head back and Duke can’t help but drink in the sight of him, so ethereal and bright and full of life. “Fair enough! Got any ideas as to where we should start?”
“I’ve got an entire crew of detective vigilantes,” Duke replies. He’s not taking any more chances. No more waiting to talk about important things; he messed up by keeping his soulmark to himself, so he needs to make sure everyone meets his soulmate before shit goes south again. 
“Let’s go find them, then!”
They take off again, soaring through the skies that are barely holding themselves together. 
The world is still ending, and every hero is being stretched thin, but held carefully in Phantom’s arms, racing head first into a solution, Duke can’t help but feel that everything’s going to be alright now. 
He’s had enough bad luck. Now, his soulmate with him, bearing the title of King with grace, things are finally starting to look up.
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saerins · 8 days
Text
ᯓ ᝰ ONLY FOR YOU .ᐟ — gojo satoru
your new roommate is all sorts of mysterious. the biggest one of all? the fact that he keeps trying for you even when it seems like you won’t budge. (or, satoru’s preposterous attempts at getting you to date him.)
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gojo satoru x female reader. content tags runaway!gojo, modern au, also roommate gojo, they’re both about mid-twenties here, mentions of periods. word count 2.5k
ᯓ notes .ᐟ do not perceive me </3 haha with the state of jjk manga i just wanted some happiness so have some gojo !! this was random and came completely out of nowhere :’) anyway hope you guys enjoy <3
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six months after moving into an apartment in the city, your haphazard living quarters (haphazard mostly because the previous tenants had zero interior design sense) has nearly turned into your dream home.
new furniture litters every square feet, the old ones all tossed out. your living room spots a fresh new rug—black and white, thick and furry. the new coffee table is made of glass, magazines and newspapers filling up the space underneath. the couch has been upgraded to a dark leather, oozing a sense of old money somehow.
it’s not just your living room, your bedroom too spots some new upgrades. the single bed has been upgraded to a queen size, new vanity perpendicular to the study desk and your new wardrobe as high as the ceiling itself.
all minimalistic and black and whites and beiges, a far cry from the old and dreary dark blue walls that seem to evoke a sense of dread in you.
of course, while you’d like to claim the credit for yourself, your roommate played a much bigger part in all of this redecorating. he paid for most of it, after all.
“remind me again, satoru, how do you have this much money when you don’t even work?”
satoru stands beside you, having followed your line of sight as the both of you finally finished redecorating the house. he’s standing tall and proud too, like he’s pleased with himself because he knows you like what he’s thought up of here.
a six-foot-three human of godly proportions with the most beautiful face you’ve ever seen. too bad he’s managed to annoy you the moment he first step foot in the apartment.
he turns to look at you, a wink in your direction before that shit-eating grin and a “it’s a secret” being all he offers.
you roll your eyes. “whatever, satoru,” you shrug it off, slumping down on your new leather seats.
he opts to sit right beside you despite the sofa being the width of your entire living room. he’s annoying like that, always up in your space, has to make himself known—he’s been like this ever since he first moved in.
sometimes he makes you question your decision of having a roommate.
“hey y/n, i wanna ask you something!”
you sigh, in the exasperated non-friendly way and glare at satoru, who’s beaming from ear to ear, because every single time he says that, he’ll ask you some ridiculous question.
the last time he did was a few days ago, when he asked about your period cycle, and when you hit him with the pillow, he’d pouted and said, “hey, i just thought i could help you buy some during your time if i ever dropped by the store!”
(which is funny considering how the first time you went grocery shopping together he looked like a kid on a sugar rush, dumping only—and only—sweets and pastries into the shopping cart.)
“do i get to say no?”
“nope!” and he still has that happy lilt to his voice.
“why do i even bother with you, satoru?” you rub your temples before resigning yourself to look at him with a straight face.
satoru shifts his position so he’s leaning on his side, watching you dreamily. it’s such a crime that he looks like that—it’s so easy for him to make hearts melt. “do you have a boyfriend?”
he nearly makes you choke on nothing. as much as you want to manoeuvre out of such talk with him, you know that you’re just signing up for a much longer conversation with him if you don’t just give him a straight answer.
“no,” you say, contemplating just stopping there, but then again, you don’t want him to get any ideas. “and i’m not looking for one, satoru.”
right on cue, he pouts. but somehow, something tells you he expected your answer already. “but you don’t have one, so i can try,” he says, as if to affirm the idea to himself.
“yeah you can try, but i’ll keep saying no, satoru, so don’t even bother.” you’re trying your best to get him not to even try, but satoru’s optimism is probably one of the strongest things to exist on this earth.
after a continuous fifteen minutes of you insisting that the more he tries, the more it’d turn you off, you thought you’d gotten through to him.
until one week later when he proves all your efforts were for naught.
he shows up at the lobby of your company building, looking all dashing and everything like a modern prince charming would, leaning against the hood of his car while he scrolls through his phone, evidently waiting for you because you’ve decided to ignore all his questions for the past two hours (of which all were trying to get you to tell him what time you get off work).
thanks to his little stunt (showing up at your workplace and basically forcing you to ride with him or else he’ll make an even bigger display of affection), everyone at the office now thinks you’re already dating that tall dreamy man, or that you’re crazy not to.
after you say you’re still not interested, he’s moved on to other forms of… seduction.
one night, you go home to see him in just his sweats, cooking dinner and to top it off, it’s your favourite dish.
you scoff in disbelief, flinging your purse down onto the dining table. (a variation of light oak you both agreed would look good with everything else.) “satoru, what is this?”
he turns around, abs on full display as he acts coy. the spatula in his right hand turning a circle as he shrugs. “what do you mean? just cooking some dinner, want some?”
oh, you’ll get him for this. you don’t know how, but one day you will. he’s taken everything you said you liked about a contestant on a dating show and is currently trying to embody everything he is just to tempt you into dating him.
(it’s unfair that you somehow think satoru is much more handsome than anyone on tv, but you’re never going to tell him that. never.)
“satoru.”
(your tone is nearly akin to that which his mother often used on him when he was young. you’re kind of scary sometimes.)
his disinterested expression eases into an easy smirk, his lower back leaning against the counter. “oooh, you’re so hot when you’re all angry, babe.”
“i’m not your babe and the answer is still no!”
(he ends up burning whatever he was trying to cook because he was too busy turning his attention to you.)
the next time he tries, he’s sending you bouquets of flowers to you. at your workplace, right in full view of everyone including your bosses, who all seem to be so interested in your love life now. especially when what they’re reading are things like “can’t wait to see you when you get home, miss you ♡”.
so now the entire office thinks you live with your boyfriend and rumours have spread that you’re going to get married soon. how on earth that second part got out of hand you have no idea.
now everyday when you get home, he has something for you. it varies from time to time, and they range from food to high-end jewellery. he keeps trying to play a game of hit or miss, trying to gauge by your expressions every time he gives you his gift, trying to decide whether you like it or not.
three months later, you can safely say he has your food preferences nailed. as for everything else, like fashion and accessories, there’s more to be said. you didn’t want to accept all his gifts, especially not when you’re going to hate yourself for possibly leading him on, but satoru has never been one to take no for an answer. ever since the day you first met him really, when he only insists on you calling him by his first name and refuses to tell you his last. (yet he wants to know everything about you.)
satoru’s infuriating.
“you know, you keep doing all this without knowing whether i’ll ever say yes, or whether or not i’m taking advantage of you, why won’t you stop?” you ask when you get home one day, tired as shit because an important (yet unreasonable) client has taken the opportunity to shit on you earlier today for things that they failed to do.
it makes you wonder whether satoru ever thinks the same about you; whether you’re an asshole for just… being the way you are.
he tilts his head to the side, the gift in his hand, inside a pretty paper bag, falling to his side as he thinks. “nah, you’re not like that.”
“like what?”
“whatever bad thing you’re thinking about yourself,” satoru decides, moving forward to ruffle your hair. usually you move away, but this time you let him.
“and how are you so sure?”
he pouts a little, as if it’s a disappointment you don’t already know. “i dunno what you’re thinking about, but i happen to like you. a lot.”
“satoru, you barely know me.”
“maybe. but i at least know you’re independent though, you always like to get shit done yourself and you do it all well. and i like the way you work hard, even after you get back home. and you always feed the stray cats outside our apartment, that’s why you hate it when you get off work late.”
there’s a lot of things satoru notices that you probably don’t know about. and here you are, thinking he’s just doing all this for the heck of it. still, it’s an awkward topic that you’re not sure how to continue.
“that’s it?” you mumble sheepishly, averting your gaze.
satoru grins, eyes forming cute little half moons. “want me to say more? i have more, how about—”
“okay you can shut up now!” you exclaim, lunging forward to cover his mouth with your hands, though all that does is give him a reason to shoot you his signature shit-eating grin.
“icanshwotallygibyoumorereasonswhy—”
you yank your hands away, realising it does nothing to actually shut him up.
“i like you,” he finishes. still grinning. still proud of himself. still holding your new gift in his hand.
and maybe it’s the way he’s trying relentlessly, tirelessly, even in the face of all your rejections. or maybe it’s the way you notice that he’s trying, earnestly. because honestly? you don’t know what you can offer him. he seems to do just well enough by himself. and with looks like that? you don’t doubt he can attract some powerful socialites if he wants.
or perhaps it’s the way he’s prattling on about how he saw you using up your planner pages already that one time you were perched on the balcony area doing your work that he’s shamelessly now praising himself for getting you more pages because the last time, you said to stop it with the super expensive gifts.
“i think i’m a pretty good listener—”
“okay, satoru,” you concede, a ghost of a smirk tugging the corners of your lips.
satoru blinks like an idiot, like he’s a deer caught in the headlights, because he can’t believe what you just implied.
“okaaaay as in…” he trails off for a moment, his confusion quickly giving way to a full-on grin, the widest you’ve ever seen on him. “y/n, are you my girlfriend now?”
you hold your pointer finger up and tut him, shaking it back and forth trying not to get him to jump the gun. it’s barely been a minute since you agreed and you can already tell he’s going to be a handful.
“we’re not together—”
“yet,” he corrects you, always the eager one. still grinning, still staring at you dreamily, white lashes and blue eyes the bane of your existence.
you sigh, deciding not to reiterate that. “but i’ll go on a few dates with you, satoru. then by the end of it, you’ll see why we won’t work out.”
that doesn’t dampen his spirits—and at this point, you doubt anything ever will. this time, he’s the one shaking his index finger. “or, you’ll wonder where i’ve been your whole life.”
“perhaps. but maybe because i wanted to murder you.”
satoru hums as if he’s pondering it, then shakes his head. “nah, because you’d curse that we didn’t have more time together,” he says, sticking his tongue out.
he may act like a child in a grown man’s body, and more often than not, you may lament internally that he’s annoying and doesn’t know the meaning of personal space, but right now, the way his cheeky expression slowly fades into a genuine smile, the way his big hand comes up to your cheek to caress your face, the way his beautiful blue eyes fall to gaze at your lips—you get the hint that satoru’s dangerous.
dangerous because it might be so easy to fall for him, and maybe next time, before you know it, you’ll love him.
for now, it’s enough for you to absorb, and so you bail first before satoru gets to kiss you on the lips.
“dinner saturday, eight?” he calls after you, and you can just make out his smirk even when you’re not looking at him.
you’re still bounding down the hallway to your room. “whatever, you’re paying, satoru,” you declare back to him, realising you’re still flustered from how close he was back there.
“aw, love you too, babe!”
“oh my god, satoru i hate you,” you groan as you shut the bedroom door behind you.
still, behind closed doors, you can hear him chuckling. “i’ll make you fall for me one day, y/n.”
you don’t understand why, but your knees grow weak, and you fall to the floor clutching your purse in your hands. satoru’s charming and handsome and he’s probably everything you dreamed that prince charming would be.
but you also know how easily romance can ruin you.
so why, for the first time in years, do you feel your heart skipping beats and a genuine excited smile forming on your face?
you fish your phone out when you feel the vibration and realise it’s a text from satoru. never one for any type of space, really.
i’ll take care of you, don’t worry. 🫡
you laugh at his use of the emoji, and for the first time, you feel yourself so easily warming up to someone. deciding to throw him a bone tonight, you text him back.
in his room, satoru smiles to himself as he reads your message.
i’m in your hands, then. 🫡
he’s let a lot of people down recently. but you? no, he doesn’t ever want to let you down. for the first time in his life, he’s wondering if this is what love feels like.
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clbrq · 7 months
Text
DESTROY ME - C. BROCK & S. GOLBACH.
warnings; HEAVYYYY SMUT, cursing/swearing, corruption kink, innocent reader, sam’s a little cutie but colby’s mean ASFFF, mention of blacking out, talk of religion and god, but not heavy.
this was requested, but it somehow got deleted but thank you @paymal7 for this absolute gem <3
MINORS DNI
-/-
“Please, I promise I didn’t!”
Your begging did no good to stop what was coming for you. Tears were brimming in your eyes as you sat on a comfy bed, toying with the hem of your dress subconsciously.
“We don’t like liars.” He spoke sternly, sauntering slowly back and forth in front of you.
Colby Brock was sly and nasty, he knew how to get under your skin and wind you up. He always flashed you a devilish smirk when you said something you knew he would twist and use against you. He was cruel, always teasing you and leaving you high and dry when you needed him most.
“Just tell us the truth, baby, we won’t be mad.” A voice from your right stated, erupting a scoff from Colby in front of you.
Sam Golbach was the nicer out of the two—not the nicest, but nicer. He would be gentler, kinder and most understanding, at times, than Colby. He would listen to you, and make a smart decision from there on out. But, when he wanted to be—his inner demons would take over. He would be ravenous and mean, taking it out on you like his life depended on it.
Right now, luckily for you, Sam was in a good mood. He was talking to you sweetly, almost concerned. Colby, however, never took that approach—taking any opportunity to rile you up for the fun of it.
“I swear on my life, I would never do that!” You declared, your words feeling useless as you said them aloud.
“That’s a bold claim, sweetheart,” Colby dragged, his piercing blue eyes glaring into yours, “I know you fucked someone else, just admit it.”
Shaking your head, feeling helpless to yourself—ready to admit defeat, as you realised they would never believe you. Sam slid next to Colby, the two do then stood in front of you, igniting a sudden anxiety in your body.
“C’mon, angel, we just want the truth.” Sam smiled down at you, offering a small comfort in the moment of despair.
“Swear on God.” Colby spat, his expression full of distaste as he watched you crumble in from of him.
“I swear on God.”
The boys exchanged looks as the words fell past your lips. Colby looked more angrier than he did previously, and Sam looked almost pleased at your response.
“I think she’s telling the truth, Colby.” Sam muttered, glancing down at you, the tears in your eyes finally drying up.
“Mhm,” Colby hummed, walking closer to you, grabbing your chin harshly, “Even if I can’t punish you for fucking somebody else, I can do it for walking around in that slutty dress for everyone to see.”
Whining quietly at Colby’s statement, you mentally prepared for what was coming. Colby had the certain glint in his eyes when he wanted to absolutely destroy you, rip you to shreds and demolish you to nothing.
“Do I not even get an apology?” Colby murmured, his grip tightening.
“I’m sorry.” You squeaked, the nerves in your body taking over.
“Gotta do better than that, sweetheart.” He laughed, letting go of your chin to grab hold of your throat aggressively.
You were taken aback by his swift movements, a large sum of air being stolen from your lungs as he did so.
“On your knees, slut.”
Doing exactly as you were told, you fell from the bed to the floor, looking desperately up at Colby as his hand fell from your neck. Sam walked behind you, stroking your head lovingly as Colby shook his head down at you.
“What a good girl, don’t you agree, Colby?” Sam asked, grinning down at you.
“For once.” Colby spat, “I still think she deserves a good punishment.”
“How about this?” Sam started, peering up to meet Colby’s gaze, “You punish her the way you like, then I treat her for being the good girl you know she really is.”
“Whatever,” Colby mumbled, “But, don’t think I’ll be nice, babe.”
Nodding feverishly, you stared up at Colby—your glossy eyes not helping to lower your punishment.
“Get on the bed.”
Clambering up from the ground, you lay flat on the bed, ready for Colby to take you the way he liked; Missionary. Colby liked it so much as he could watch your face contort into pain as he rammed his large cock inside you—giving you no chance to adjust to size. It made him harder just watching you struggle to take him.
Colby flipped your dress up, harshly ripping your panties off your private areas and onto the ground, discarding them somewhere you know you’d have trouble finding the next morning. Colby lifted your leg up to his shoulder as he unclothed himself from the waist down.
His hands swiftly smacked your bare pussy, evoking a loud gasp from your lips as he laughed darkly at your response.
“Could just feel how wet you are from that,” He told you, looking up at you evilly, “Such a fucking whore, aren’t you? You love it when I treat you like little bitch you are, don’t you?”
His words stung as they hit your ears—but the overwhelming arousal, you knew you shouldn’t feel, dominated that feeling of hurt. And as much as Colby didn’t like liars, he wasn’t one himself—you were soaked, secretly loving the superiority complex Colby had over you.
Taking you by surprise, Colby’s hand flew to your neck, slightly cutting off your airways once again as his eyes darkened, “Answer me.” He seethed.
“Yes, Colby.” You managed to squeeze out, ignoring the dizziness beginning to form in your mind.
Letting go of your throat, Colby lifted the other leg onto his shoulders, lining himself up with your entrance. You bit down on your lip as you braced yourself for the mind-blowing pain, yet also pleasure, you were about to feel. But, it never came.
Your breathing increasing, you lifted your head to watch Colby’s face—being met with a wicked smirk, “Did you really think I was gonna give you what you want, just like that?”
Words failed you as a confused expression plastered itself over you, feeling utterly ashamed that you were so naive. Colby laughed loudly at your visage, shaking his head ever so slightly.
“No, I wanna hear you beg for it. Wanna hear you whine and cry for my cock.” Colby proclaimed, no sign of backing down in his words.
Whining loudly, your words suddenly slipped out, “Colby, I’m so sorry, please. Please, just fuck me, I need it.”
“Keep ‘em coming, baby.” Colby teased, rubbing the tip of his cock slowly against your clit at an antagonising pace.
“Oh, Colby, please. I need you, I promise I’ve been good. I’ve been good for you and Sam, I swear. I need you please, Colby.”
Satisfied with your begging, his sudden thrust fully inside you made you cry out loudly, your hands flying around his neck as he buried himself deeply inside you. His hips began snapping against you at a rapid rhythm, abusing your G-spot deliciously with each thrust.
The moans and curses that flew from your lips echoed noisily into the room, filling both of the boys ears. Your head flew to the side as Colby’s lips attacked your neck, biting harshly onto your plain skin, suddenly now tainted with love bites.
Your glassy eyes landed on Sam, who was sat in the chair next to bed, his hand smoothly jerking himself off as he watched you get ruined by his best friend. Sam offered you a cheeky wink, his hand speeding up as your eyes met.
Colby, however, was not giving up—his pace not faltering as he fucked into nothingness. His fingers, not once, ventured down to your aching clit—not willing to provide you an orgasm. He grunted into your neck as he continued to suck purple bruises onto your skin, his breath hot against you. Suddenly pulling himself upright, his hand grasped your breasts his hand, pulling and pinching your nipple between his fingers.
“You fucking love it when I corrupt you, don’t you?” He spat, a sinful grin still on his lips, “Not such a good girl now, are you?”
“No, no, no.” You chanted, loosing yourself in the way he rammed into you, your cervix being destroyed in the process, “Oh my God.” You dragged, screwing your eyes shut as your legs wrapped around his waist.
Colby’s smirk grew at your words, feeling nice enough to not inform you that you’d used God’s name in vain, but still cruel enough to push your legs further up and fuck you harder. Your brain didn’t comprehend the words flying out of your mouth at this point, the praises towards Colby filling his ears. You were seeing stars as Colby’s cock twitched inside you.
“I’m gonna fill you up with my babies, yeah?” Colby teased, “Gonna make you a mommy, you want that, don’t you?”
“Yes, Colby, please!” You begged, clawing your nails down his back, listening to him groan into your ear as he came deep inside you.
Colby’s orgasms weren’t like most men’s, especially not like Sam’s. Colby came for a longer duration than most, and he had a larger load. He would always get tired after he came as it took it out of him—but he would always push past it to fuck you one last time.
Colby pulled out of you, in awe of the way his cum dribbled onto the sheets. Shoving his fingers into you, he stuffed his cum back inside you, your brain too fuzzy to understand his muttering about making sure he got you good and full of his load.
Soon enough, Sam switched with Colby, his small smile greeting your vision as he leaned over you, “Hi there, beautiful.”
“Sam.” You whined, your hands reaching out to touch him, your hands landing on his t-shirt, pulling at the fabric to pull him closer to you.
“Was Colby not very nice, baby?” He asked, brushing the sweaty hair out of your face.
“I did warn her.” Colby added from the background, pulling his clothes back on and placing himself where Sam was previously sat.
“Yes.” You mumbled to Sam, jutting your lip out in a frown.
“Oh, baby.” Sam replied, “You want me to make you feel better?”
Nodding feverishly, Sam grinned as he leaned down to press a gentle kiss against your lips. You savoured the feeling of his sweet lips on yours as your tongues danced together, mewling into his mouth quietly. Sam’s smiled deeper into the kiss as he heard you, his lips moving against yours smoothly.
Quickly, Sam’s kisses trailed down to your neck and chest, pecking over Colby’s forming hickeys. Sam delicately took your dress off, leaving you naked below him, only hardening his cock in his trousers more. Then, he proceeded to kiss your tits, occasionally suckling on your abused nipples, and slowly making his way to your stomach.
Once he reached the place you’d be craving him to get to, you winced as Sam’s fingers protruded your entrance carefully. His fingers rocked back and forth inside, curling them to hit the spot you liked the most. The pleasure built up from Colby fucking you helped the knot in your stomach build up much quicker than usual.
And as Sam’s tongue slid flat against your clit, your back arched in pleasure as his name rolled off your tongue. The way he circled his tongue around your bud made you squirm under him—your actions making him roughly hold you down to keep you still. Sam unforgivingly sucked on your aching nub; your orgasm nearing closer.
“Cum on my face, baby, I know you want to.” He spoke, your slick connecting your throbbing clit and his swollen lips, his fingers still swiftly moving in and out of you.
The knot in your stomach finally snapped. Your orgasm ripped through you, your body shaking and convulsing under Sam as he continued to assault your pussy with his tongue. The ecstasy flowing your veins so aggressively, your body goes numb. Before you can even realise, your eyes shut as you fall unconscious.
As if it was a few moments ago, you awoke suddenly, your body throbbing slightly as you regained consciousness. You were alone in the bed, your clothes back on and you tucked under the sheets.
Unsure of where the givers of your un-denying pleasure were, you carefully rose from the comfort of the bed, and ventured downstairs—just like both of the boys had done to you earlier. Reaching the kitchen, you saw the pair sat at the kitchen island, eating.
Upon your presence, Sam and Colby turned to face you, Sam smiling sweetly at you, “Good morning, princess. How’s that pretty little head of yours?”
Returning the gesture, you softly grinned back at the blonde, “It’s okay. Did I fall asleep?”
“You blacked out from cumming so hard, babe.” Colby spoke, getting straight to the point, smirking slightly, “Looked so good with that fuck face when you were creaming all over Sam’s tongue.”
Mumbling Colby’s name in embarrassment, you attempted to hide the pink hue in your cheeks, as Colby beckoned you over to the two of them. Replying to his command, you stood in between the two, Colby pulling you close to him by your waist, and pecking your neck sweetly.
Colby was rough in bed for sure, and loved to wind you up, but occasionally, if something was taken too far he made sure you knew he cared about you truly.
“Glad you’re okay, baby.” Colby whispered to you, placing another sweet kiss below your earlobe.
“Stop hogging her.” Sam complained, grabbing your hand and dragging you onto his lap.
Sam nuzzled his face into your hair, indulging in the clean smell of your shampoo, kissing your head every now and again as you all conversed in small talk.
Still feeling a bit out of it, Sam and Colby caught onto your emotions, standing up, “Come on, we’ll go back to bed.” Sam suggested, still holding onto your hand as he directed you back up the stairs, Colby following behind.
“You gonna be okay?” Sam asked, his hand comfortably resting on the small of your back.
“I think so.” You mumbled, your eyes feeling heavy once more.
“She will, she just can’t handle being fucked right.” Colby joked from behind you, placing a harsh slap to your ass as you walked in front of him.
Earning a small gasp from your lips, you turned around to be met with Colby’s all too familiar wicked smirk.
-
hey :)
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@reem6806
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@cam1ly
@paymal7
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rinniessance · 7 months
Text
READY, SET, GO ༊*·˚ - satoru gojo x cam girl f!reader x suguru geto
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your roommates, satoru gojo and suguru geto, find you in a compromising position: legs spread, toys ready, camera recording. what do you do in this situation? you ask them to join, of course.
꒰ warnings: nsfw - mdni .ᐟ.ᐟ non-curse au. reader is a cam girl. threesome (mfm), everyone is kinda gross in this, unprotected sex, double penetration in one hole, kinda manipulation, slight degradation (they call you slut a lot), consensual filming. pure filth ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -。꒱ྀི১ // word count: 1.8k ꒱ ꒰ notes: i have been possessed by a horny demon aaaa save me .ᐟ.ᐟ꒱
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fuck, how did this happen? you were always so careful, double checking your schedules, triple checking theirs, making sure that yes, your roommates, gojo satoru and geto suguru, will be gone and away. because the situation you find yourself in right now is exactly what you were scared of the most: they should’ve been away, they were not supposed to be home until 3 hours later so you didn’t lock your door. you were laying on the bed, your camera positioned at your feet, capturing the perfect view of your spread legs and wet pussy as you lay against the headboard. you didn’t notice them coming back – which led you to not hold back your next cry of pleasure.
“yo, is everything good?” gojo asks as he knocks on your door. and because you are a dumb dumb whore who decided not to lock the door, it swings open.
gojo is met with the heavenly sight: his cute and quiet roommate impaled on a 10 inch dildo, wearing the skimpiest piece of cute pink lingerie, moaning and whimpering to hundreds of people online. the moment you meet his eyes, something akin to electricity and dread runs through your body. satoru is looking at you with wide eyes, panting like a dog. you want to stop, you have to stop, but you can see that he’s getting shamelessly hard, bulge in his grey sweatpants growing more prominent with each passing minute.
“satoru, what the fuck is goi- ?” geto stops mid-sentence as he observes the obscene scene in front of him: gojo looking like he’s two second away from fucking you right there and then, and you, little pretty doe caught in the headlights, looking between them, still pumping silicone cock in and out of you.
as you glance away from their scrutinizing eyes for a second, you realize something.
you’re still live-streaming.
how bad would it be to do what you’re thinking of doing next? pretty fucking bad.
but you have never been known to make good decisions.
“wanna join?”
gojo is moving towards you before you even finish the sentence. when he towers over you, he pulls the dildo out, making you whine.
“don’t worry, pretty, you won’t be needing it anymore. we will give you something much better to moan about,” satoru says as he trails his hand down, cupping your sex with his hand and shoving his fingers inside while the flat of his palm slowly grinds against your clit. you let out a pornographic moan, the type they always claim is fake, and immediately clench around him. gojo chuckles and licks your lips – not kissing you yet, wanting to see how much longer he can play with you before you start begging.
chat goes wild.
[y/nmegafan]: was this planned??
[hereforher]: there is no way this is not staged !!
[urmumlol]: who cares stfu it’s still hot af
“satoru, don’t be mean, you know the rules with the girls like her,” geto drawls as he nears the bed at your opposite side. girls like me? you’re beyond confused but satoru is pumping fingers at just the right angle, that all the logical thinking has long taken a walk.
“aw, common, let me have fun once in a while.”
“please, satoru, don’t be a child. you know the consequences of your fun, i don’t know if i want that with someone we live.”
somehow, you felt offended at their insinuation you cannot handle their definition of fun. are they not seeing what you do for the living?
“i’m pretty sure i can take whatever you think fun is.”
geto throws a quick smile to gojo.
gotcha.
“well, since you asked so nicely, sweetheart. how about we put on a real show?” suguru says to the camera and nods to satoru. white haired man strips of his clothes in record time, and lays down on the bed, dragging you down to lay on top of his chest.
“how nice of you, you kept this cunt all warm and ready for us, heh?” gojo is mocking you from behind. you can only whine as you heavy breathe in anticipation: the tip of his cock is playing with you entrance, taunting your hole as it clenches around nothing.
“shut up and put it in.”
all of a sudden, geto is squeezing your cheeks and looks directly into your eyes.
“nuh-uh, you don’t tell us what to do now. we fuck how we want to fuck you.”
satoru hooks your legs over his arms and spreads them apart while suguru takes his friend’s cock in his hand and starts pumping it slowly, beads of pre-cum already leaking from the tip. geto runs his finger across the slit, spreading the dripping fluid to the base of gojo’s dick.
“you better be ready, pretty girl.”
geto positions gojo’s length against your weeping entrance and satoru thrusts all the way in. he fills you in one hard stroke, stretch wide and painful, even after you already fucked yourself with the toy. you couldn’t see gojo’s dick from your position but by the way it immediately bruises your cervix is enough to tell you how big he is. you mewl pathetically and try to grab onto something but suguru takes your hands in his instead. almost as if out of thin air, he’s holding your underwear.
“hands are a distraction.”
he ties your hands and pushes them above your and satoru’s heads as gojo sets a brutal pace – his hips are fucking in and out of you, frustratingly hitting your gummy spot every single time, making you scrunch your eyes and nose. his arms are snaked around your waist and boobs to keep you in place while using your leaking cunny however he wants. his thick tip is kissing your bundle of nerves, sending shivers all over your body – you can feel the tingling all the way in your fingertips and toes.
raven-haired man positions himself above you and satoru, taking off his pants and underwear and dropping them somewhere by the bed. you’re delirious from how gojo is rutting into you, calculated strokes of hips, so you don’t notice when geto is sliding his cock between your folds, massaging your throbbing clit with his tip. the sudden metal feel on your skin lights up your nerves with the delicious realization – geto has a king’s crown piercing.
“yeah, i thought you’d like that. acting all innocent when we’re around but this is what you actually do in your free time? disgusting.”
your cunt tightens around satoru’s cock at the words, making him chuckle.
“shit, you should’ve felt the way she just clenched around me. dirty slut likes it.”
geto slaps your clit with his cockhead, making you tremble; his piercing putting just enough additional stimulation, it starts sending you over the edge. gojo continues moving his hips but you can feel that he is losing his rhythm.
“shit, don’t know if i can hold on any longer.”
“that’s okay, i’ll fuck her hard enough for both of us.”
suguru continues giving you the pussy job, moving his leaking cock up and down in between your folds, playing with your sensitive nub with his tip, slapping it slightly just as satoru hits your special spot extra hard. gojo is panting and whining in your ear, scrunching his eyes as he spills his seed into you, milky spurts of cum painting your walls white.
“fuu-ck, ngghh, she feels so fucking good. such a good cunt,” satoru mumbles in a feverish pleasure. he keeps up the pace, fucking his cum back into you, making sure every last drop stays. geto is still playing with your clit, slow and purposeful circles, finally taking you over the edge.
the orgasm washes over you in waves, like a tsunami, it’s anticipated – yet you’re still drowning in it. your mouth hangs open, drool escaping the corners of it, and you shake in gojo’s arms. he pinches one of your nipples and you let out a painful moan, trying to squirm away. he’s still pulsating inside you, and the second wave of ecstasy makes your toes curl, fingernails digging into your own palms.
it’s repulsive how quickly they made you feel this good.
“common, give us one more.”
as you’re about to protest, satoru spreads your legs again, this time even wider, which allows suguru to start pushing in.
“no, no, satoru’s still inside me, it’s too much nnnggg!” you whine but neither of them are listening. gojo quickly shoves his fingers into your mouth, making you gag around them. you're left nothing but to obediently suck on them, making yourself drool.
“we told you we’ll fuck you however we want, didn’t we?”
your cunt obediently stretches out to accommodate geto’s thick cock. gojo moans behind you as he feels his best friend slide into the tight heat next to him – he’s sensitive from his orgasm, and contact with geto sends him into overstimulation.
you close your eyes as your tiny pussy is being deliciously torn by your roommates’ cocks. suguru buries himself all the way in one harsh stroke before starting to slide in and out of your sloppy pussy. the wet sounds of the mixed fluids, your and satoru’s cum leaking out of your abused hole, makes your cheeks burn yet it’s impossible to feel shame right now. god, it’s impossible to think when it feels this good.
satoru’s slender finger circles around your clit, glistening pearl beginning for attention. you whimper and whine at the added stimulation, and it’s all too much – your body not recovered fully from your previous orgasm – as it’s rushing towards another ecstatic relief. suguru keeps up his bruising pace, making satoru start moving his hips too as he’s hardening up again.
two men find the perfect rhythm almost immediately – it makes you think how many time they have done this before. while suguru is pushing in, satoru is pushing out and it almost feels like they are tearing you at the seams – and you’re thankful for it. gojo’s still rubbing your clit and geto’s cock is reaching all the right spots: when his piercing hits your spongy nerve bundles just at the right angle, your body is giving in. your shaking form is fully visible to camera, orgasm washing off you and making you tremble in satoru’s hold. both men cum in unison with you, and it’s vulgar and indecent, the concoction that they keep fucking in and out of your abused cunt.
the mix of your cum is dripping down your thighs, down satoru’s dick and his balls. the squelching sounds bounce around the room, and you’re shocked you can still feel shame. mixed fluids stick to your thighs as satoru moves you around, and you know the bedsheets are a total mess. god, you’re so tired, you just want to go to sleep now.
“hey hey, don’t go falling asleep on us now. it’s time for take 2.”
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lemonlover1110 · 4 days
Text
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬
Satoru Gojo
[Chapter 26] Change of Plans
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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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“What do you mean your parents are here?” Worry consumes Satoru as soon as he hears about the announcement. His eyes go directly to Ren, who looks around confused. Why is Sayo’s parents showing up a big deal? Ren sees his parents everyday and it’s not a big deal. 
“I don’t know why they’re here. One of the maids just came into my room with the announcement and I– I don’t know.” She’s running her hands through her hair, taking deep breaths to keep her cool but it’s hard. She’s freaking out and Satoru can’t blame her.
“It’s okay, Sayo. Deep breaths.” Satoru tries to get her to calm down while he freaks out himself. It’s Ren’s birthday, he doesn’t want the night to be ruined because Sayo’s parents decided it’d be a great day to stop by. “Ren, come here.”
“I thought you were going to open mommy’s gift?” Ren asks, but he won’t question it further. Satoru had a change of heart, that’s a good enough answer for Ren. He walks back to his father, and Satoru’s hand goes to the top of his head. 
“What are we going to do– I mean you have your son here, this birthday party clearly isn’t for you. What are we going to say?” Sayo rambles, knowing that it’s only a matter of time before she has to go downstairs to greet them. “What do we even say?”
“I don’t know. I…” Satoru is unsure of what to say next. What should he do? He looks down at Ren and takes a moment to really think about his options. He can’t hide Ren forever, and he isn’t going to.
Satoru isn’t proud of a lot of things in his life because quite frankly he hasn’t made the best decisions, and Ren is everything to him. His pride and joy. He doesn’t want to keep hiding him, Satoru is done with all of this.
“I think it’s time to come clean.” Satoru says, words that are dreaded by her. But she somewhat understands. Satoru just has a beautiful family that is waiting for him– Or whatever you have going on, either way, it’s time to put an end to this. She bites down her lip before nodding in agreement.
“You’re right.” She agrees as a sigh escapes her lips. She wanted this to go on a little longer… No, she wanted this to keep going forever since she can’t deal with the truth. But Satoru isn’t her little puppet, and he has his own feelings to cherish and protect.
Her eyes are filling up with tears, and she tries to turn quickly to leave. She doesn’t want Satoru to back down or to think she wants him to; she’s simply overcome with emotion because this is it, after tonight, she won’t have a family. Satoru speaks before she can walk away, making sure to cover Ren’s ears beforehand, “Sayo, you might not be my wife but you’re still going to be my family.”
“I appreciate it, Satoru.” She manages to say, before walking away. Satoru takes his hands off Ren’s ears and smiles down at him.
“Change of plans, I’ll open your mommy’s gift later. Let’s go downstairs.” Satoru tells Ren, grabbing his hand and dragging him out of the room. He’s not letting the boy out of his sight for even a moment, he’ll proudly show off his son tonight.
“Who are–” You’re right outside his door when he opens up, and he interrupts you to answer your question.
“Sayo’s parents.” He says, and your eyes widen. You don’t know much about the situation, but you can only assume this isn’t good news. Mrs. Gojo is chatting with them, keeping them occupied but from what you’ve heard, this isn’t good news.
“Do you want me to leave and take Ren for the time being?” You ask him, trying to grab your baby boy’s hand but Satoru shakes his hand.
“Time to put an end to all of this. I can’t hide him forever… He’s my whole world, how can I?” Satoru responds, and you feel your heart flutter. Your face begins to get warm, and you can’t believe you’re feeling fuzzy because Satoru is being a good father. 
“This won’t cause too many issues, right?” You question, and Satoru won’t tell you the truth but he won’t lie to you either. So he chooses to ignore the question, and picks up Ren from the ground. Satoru walks past you, and you begin to follow behind him. 
You don’t know what’ll happen next, and you’re sure it’s not going to be the best scene. You’re almost sure that you’ll be the one that’s going to be blamed for everything, but there’s no way you’re leaving Satoru alone with Ren in this mess. You really do wish you could leave with Ren right at this moment, but you understand that this is something Satoru has to do.
“Satoru–” A woman that looks just like Sayo, simply slightly older, begins to speak. She’s taken back by the boy that Satoru holds, her mouth agape as she stares in complete and utter confusion. Could be a cousin of some sort, though the boy looks too much like Satoru. “Did you and Sayo–”
“Who is this boy?” Sayo’s father steps in, and Satoru feels the nerves slowly consume him, but he’ll remain brave. The process of merging just began, and this will surely ruin everything but it doesn’t matter anymore. All Satoru cares for is the little boy that he holds in his arms– And you who stand behind him. 
“My son.” Satoru answers before putting Ren down on the ground. Before he can say anything more, you grab Ren and take him away because he shouldn’t witness any of what’s about to happen. Satoru holds his breath, waiting for a reaction from the pair.
“Sayo!” Her father couldn’t be any louder, as it dawns on him that his son-in-law has a son; a son that is very clearly not his daughter’s.
“She’s not at fault for this, so leave her out of it.” Satoru quickly says, but he knows his words won’t change anything. He’s seen how they interact, it’s the reason why Sayo doesn’t want the news to come out. She could do nothing, but her parents will find a way to blame her for everything.
“She’s known about this, she definitely is at fault.” Her mother responds, and Satoru takes a deep breath. He wants to leave so badly and enjoy the very special day with his son and you, but he can’t leave Sayo alone. Not in this mess at least. 
“Sayo! Get down here!” Her father yells once again, getting desperate for his daughter to come downstairs. But it’s not her who comes down, but you. Their eyes fall on you, the woman who took away Satoru’s son, which can only mean one thing to them.
“You’re the tramp.” Her mother says, and both you and Satoru are completely shocked by her words. You have yet to speak, yet she’s already managed to insult you. You somewhat expected this though so you can’t say you’re too surprised; you’re still a little hurt though. “What the hell did you do to him? Satoru would never–”
“Get out.” Satoru’s voice is harsh, making it clear that they’re unwelcome into his home. Sayo has yet to come down to face this, but Satoru isn’t going to allow it. Not tonight at least. They’re staring at him as if they haven’t heard him, which makes him yell, “Get out! You’re not welcome here!”
“We’re going to talk about this, we’re not leaving.” Sayo’s father says, but Satoru isn’t willing to listen to this now. This is supposed to be a special day for him and his son, yet he feels as if the night is ruined. He feels sorry for Sayo, since she won’t get to deal with this tonight, delaying the inevitable confrontation once again. Satoru just isn’t up to listen to them anymore, especially after the woman insulted you. 
“You’re leaving. I told you that you’re leaving, and if you don’t start moving within the next thirty seconds, I’m dragging you out.” Satoru is seeing red. He’s always had a particular dislike for Ssayo’s parents, but they’ve never made him this angry before. 
They see that he’s very serious about this, and they won’t argue with him now. They’ll leave for the moment, as a birthday present. But they’ll come back tomorrow, and they’re not going to leave until they get a proper explanation from him and their daughter.
“Happy birthday, Satoru, and happy anniversary to you and my daughter.” The woman makes sure to say before leaving the house, doing it to remind you that Satoru is a married man. 
“Where’s Ren?” Satoru asks the moment they step out of the house. He’s not going to allow anyone else to ruin tonight. He’s spending the rest of his birthday with you and his son.
“I left him with Sayo so she wouldn’t come down. I’ll go get him.” You answer, and Satoru nods in response. He runs to the kitchen while you go upstairs to grab your baby.
“Mommy! Look, Sayo and I started playing Mario Party!” Ren exclaims when he sees you step into the game room. You smile at him and at the woman that sits beside him. You found her nearly sobbing, you knew she couldn’t go downstairs with how she was crying. 
“Your daddy wants to see you, Ren.” You tell him, and he pouts. His game just started and you’re tearing it away– it’s fine, at least he’ll get to have cake later.
“But our game just started!” Sayo protests, and you chuckle. You agree,
“Alright, but ten minutes. You know Satoru is impatient.”
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After Ren loses to Sayo too many times, he gives up on his game. Which is good for Satoru who was growing a little too impatient while he watched them play. He knows it’s only a matter of time before his mother comes in, asking him to fix this mess. He’s not in the mood for any of this tonight though, and while he wanted to celebrate the day with so many other people, he’s changed his mind. 
He feels bad for leaving everyone else behind when they’ve come to celebrate Ren’s birthday, but he can’t stand being in the place for much longer. He takes you, Ren, and the cake, practically forcing you into a car. You can’t protest much, and you won’t because it’s also his birthday and you’ll grant him just about anything that’ll make him happy.
“Can we have some of the cake now?” Ren asks as he sits right next to it. He was dragged out last minute from his own party, he might as well get a piece of his cake. 
“When we get to where we’re going.” You answer, although you’re not sure how long the ride is. Satoru dragged you out with such urgency, and you wonder if someone is expecting you. Are you late for something? You guess you’re not, Satoru just needs a breath from his home. 
You’re proven right when he pulls into the home that he took you not too long ago. You can only imagine the scene that Mrs. Gojo was going to cause, so you understand his decision.
You exit the car, and grab the cake before Ren can get his hands on it. Satoru picks up his baby boy and takes him inside the house, commenting, “Soon enough you’re going to be too heavy for me to carry.”
“Grammy says the same thing.” Ren points out, and while they chatter, you look around the place. It’s more ready than before, filled with new and luxurious furniture. Satoru’s moving in soon, that’s what you can gather. 
You don’t stare for too long since the cake is getting heavy for you to carry. You remember the way to the dining room, so you go there and set the cake down on the table. You hear how both of them laugh which brings a smile to your lips. Ren loves his father more than anything, and you’re happy that he can finally spend his birthday with Satoru. 
“Mommy!” Ren yells, and you follow the voice that calls out for your name. You find them in the kitchen, Ren on the kitchen counter while Satoru looks for something to eat in the fridge. When Ren sees you, he immediately asks, “Can we order a pizza?”
“If that’s what you both want.” You answer, and Satoru immediately closes the fridge.
“Good because we have nothing here.” Satoru comments, and you let out a chuckle. 
“Satoru, you’re more than welcome to get something without asking for my permission.” You tell him, and he shakes his head. He’ll rather ask for your permission beforehand. “You’re a grown man, Satoru.”
“I’m grown too!” Ren chimes in, and Satoru side eyes him. 
“What did you just say, pipsqueak?” Satoru teases him as he picks up Ren from the counter. Satoru pulls his chubby cheek and says, “You’re only grown when I can’t carry you anymore.”
“You said that it’d be soon.” Ren reminds his father, and Satoru purses his lips. Ren got him there.
“Yeah, soon. But not now. See, I can still carry you.” Satoru responds. And he’ll still be able to carry Ren for many years to come so Satoru isn’t too worried about it.
“Let me order the food.” You tell them while they begin to bicker about the fact that Ren thinks he’s old now.
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After eating your dinner, and playing some games, Ren finally gets to cut his birthday cake. Ren sits on his father’s lap, while Satoru lights up some matches since he forgot to bring the birthday candles. It’s a simple mistake with an easy solution. 
Ren isn’t too upset about the five matches on his birthday cake since he’s too focused on the frosting on the cake. Ren is trying to sneak some of the icing while you two sing happy birthday. He finally sneaks it in when you’re clapping, though Satoru notices. Satoru is laughing, telling him, “Blow out the matches.”
“It’s your birthday too.” Ren reminds him, the evidence of his crime all over his lips. Satoru clicks his tongue before blowing the matches for Ren since they’re burning a little too fast. Ren claps for Satoru, as his father takes off the matches from the cake.
“I guess I get the biggest piece since I blew out the fire.” Satoru says, which makes a frown appear on Ren’s face.
“He is right, plus you already got a taste of it.” You join in, and Ren crosses his arms.
“It’s my birthday!” He makes sure to remind the two of you, which makes you chuckle. 
“It’s also your dad’s birthday, you said it yourself.” You say, and Ren begins to get upset so you decide to drop it. You don’t want to tease him too much tonight. You reach over and kiss his cheek before saying, “Let me go get a plate and a knife so I can give my baby boy the biggest piece of cake.”
“I’ll go with you.” Satoru gets Ren off his lap, not wanting for you to spend too much time looking for plates. And maybe he wants to be able to talk to you one on one, especially since he didn’t get the chance to look at the present you gave him.
“You know that leaving Ren with the cake is a bad idea.” You tell Satoru as he follows behind you. He knows that it’s a horrible idea, but if Ren wants to eat the whole cake, he’s more than welcome to. The cake is for him and for nobody else, he can eat it all on his own if it’s what his little heart desires.
“I have a question.” Satoru changes the topic, and you hum. “I didn’t get to see what you got me and now I’m curious.”
“Why don’t you just wait until you get home?” You suggest and Satoru pouts. Maybe the fact that he blew out the five matches has some sort of meaning, he and Ren share one age.
“I’m probably not going back tonight. C’mon, just tell me!” Satoru insists, and you roll your eyes. You’re searching for the plates, and it’d be more helpful if he actually guided you to where the plates were. Your task would be easier if the house didn’t have nearly a hundred cabinets in the kitchen. 
“Help me find the plates and I’ll answer.” You respond, and Satoru sighs before walking over and opening the cabinet for the plates. He won’t take them out until you give him the answer. “Fine. Before my mom left your house, she stole something from you and I’m giving it back.”
“What did she steal?” Satoru’s curiosity just sparked. Your mother isn’t a thief, he knows that she isn’t, so what could she possibly take?
“You remember that music box your parents got for you when you were a baby?” You tell him, and his brows perk up before he nods. “My mom snuck into your room and stole it when she found out I was pregnant. Told me my son will inherit something from his father, and it was that. Ren doesn’t care for it anymore, so you might as well have it back.”
“Really? I was going crazy looking for it. I swore my mom threw it away.” Satoru answers, and you almost feel bad for taking it. But listening to the lullaby was the only way your baby Ren would fall asleep. “I don’t need it back, if Ren has had it this whole time then I’m happy I lost it.”
“Yeah… I don’t know what else to get you since you have pretty much everything.” You respond, and Satoru can’t blame you since it’s true. Satoru has everything a man can ask for… Well almost everything.
“Give me a kiss.” The words blurt out of his mouth, and your eyes grow wide. “Since you claim I have everything. That’s the one thing I don’t have.”
“Tell me why I should kiss you?” You put a hand on your hip, and he sticks out his bottom lip.
“It’s my birthday.” He reminds you, and you roll your eyes again. 
“If I wasn’t in the delivery room, I would’ve been convinced you somehow reproduced with yourself.” You mutter before walking over and kissing his cheek. You know he meant more, but he’s not getting more. Either way, it makes his cheeks turn pink because it’s been a while since he’s felt your lips on any part of his skin. 
The air suddenly becomes thick, and you have to take a deep breath. Before you can speak about it, you decide to change the topic, “Your house is nice by the way, when are you moving in?”
“It’s not mine, it’s yours. I bought it for you.” He answers as he finally grabs the plates that he was withholding. You freeze in your spot, trying to think about the words that he just said. Is he serious? Did you hear right?
“What do you mean mine?” You question, and he’s fighting back a smirk. He kisses the tip of your nose as an extra gift for himself. He begins to walk away and you yell his name, “Satoru! What do you mean?”
“This is your house!” He yells, before completely leaving you alone in the kitchen. You stand dumbfounded, unsure of what to say to him.
You look around the big kitchen, slowly taking it all in. This is your house.
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verstappen-cult · 1 month
Note
Could I request a lestappen x reader fic where she finds out she’s pregnant and is worried to tell them because she thinks theyll be mad or upset about it but theyre over the moon happy about it!
A tear falls down your face and lands on your lap. You are trying to think about how to tell Max and Charles the news. You’ve put yourself in every scenario, but every single one of them ends with them leaving you.
The front door being opened startles you.
“Honey, we’re home!” Charles says and giggles, Max joining his boyfriend.
You wipe your tears in record time.
They know something is wrong when you won’t meet their eyes as soon as they enter the room.
Max calls your name and you’re forced to look up at them, plastering a smile. “How was padel?”
“Something happened?” Max touches your face and body, searching for an injury. But he doesn’t find anything wrong.
“What’s — ” Charles swallows, green eyes fixed on the pregnancy test by your side. “What’s that?”
You start crying again. That wasn’t how you wanted them to find out.
“I’m so sorry,” You sob, hiding behind your hands but two warm and soft hands pull them away.
Charles and Max are kneeled in front of you, both of them with tears in his eyes.
“Why are you crying, baby?” Max asks softly, rubbing the back of your hand. “Aren’t you happy?”
You look at him for a second, then at Charles, but not a word is spoken; they just wait for you to be ready.
“I don’t want to have it.” It’s the first thing that leaves your lips for what feels like hours. “I don’t want this baby to come between us and your jobs and ev—”
“Shh, it’s okay.” Charles sits by your side and places a comforting hand in the back of your head.
“I’m sorry. I really am sorry.” You wipe away the tears that don’t stop falling from your eyes.
Max shakes his head, a few tears streaming down his face. “You don’t need to be sorry, okay? There’s nothing to be sorry about.” He kisses your hands.
“Is that why you don’t want to have the baby?” Your Monégasque boyfriend asks, frowning. “Do you want to have it?”
“It doesn’t matter what I want.”
“But it does matter!” They say at the same time and you fight back the urge to start crying again.
“If you’re thinking about not having this baby for fear that is gonna come between us, you’re wrong.” Max stands up and starts walking around the room, hands on his hips. “I love you, baby. But you’re not doing us any favor.”
“What do you mean?” You look at him from beneath your wet eyelashes.
Charles cups your cheek, making you look at him. “It means that if you want to have this baby, we will be more than happy. And if you really don’t want to — then we will respect your decision.”
“Whatever you decide,” Max nods, a little smile on his lips. “But don’t make a decision based on what you think is best for me and Charles.”
“I — I want to have the baby.” You smile. The first real smile since you found out you’re pregnant. “You’re not mad?”
“Why would we be mad?” Charles genuinely asks.
Max snorts, “I’m trying really hard to stay calm. But I want to tell the whole world about it.”
You giggle, cheeks heating up. It’s incredible how you can go from being sad and anxious to happy and relieved in just a few minutes.
“I think we should wait a few weeks to tell the news.” Your boyfriends’ faces light up, two big and bright smiles directed at you. “We need to go to the doctor first and make sure everything is okay.”
Max starts crying again while Charles takes you in his arms and spins you around.
That night the three of you go to bed very tired after spending the day looking for baby names and bigger houses on the market, because according to your boyfriends: ‘we’re not stopping at one.’
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rafeandonlyrafe · 3 months
Text
w for wheezie
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words: 1.5k
warnings: very wheezie heavy i stan her, established relationship, physical violence!, descriptions of blood, rafe vs pogues, cameron family drama
“what do you think?” you hold up two letters, each silver with diamonds encrusted in them. “w for wheezie or l for louisa?”
“umm…” wheezie looks at the charms, tapping her chin, eyes flicking back and forth between the two.”
“i would say both, but…” you shrug, leaving the decision up to her.
“i think w because everyone calls me wheezie.” she decides.
“perfect.” you smile, looking at the chain lengths next. you love spending time with wheezie, especially when its shopping days like today where you take her to the mall or whatever store she wants.
usually rafe would accompany you, always hanging back to allow you to gossip, even if it was about him and your relationship. he’d only appear when you headed to the cash register, supplying his credit card to pay for whatever clothes or accessories you got.
“we should stop by sephora next.” you say as the cashier rings up your jewelry, various bracelets and necklaces, along with a chain and ring you bought for rafe (or really he bought for himself as you hand the cashier his card, but at least you picked it out).
“i need a new foundation for the summer.” wheezie says. it makes you pout for a moment, thinking about how grown up she is. you’ve been friends with rafe since middle school and used to play barbies with wheezie and take her to the american girl doll store, and now you’re taking her to buy makeup and try on dresses for homecoming.
“maybe a tinted moisturizer.” you remark, walking with bags in your hand to sephora.
--
“i would call this a successful haul.” you giggle as you load up your car, having to put bags in the backseat as well once the trunk is full. you turn on a playlist of yours and wheezies favorite songs, having different playlists ready for whoever you’re with.
it’s practical to buy so much at one time since you made the almost two hour drive to norfolk to visit the mall, and probably won’t be back for a long time. you prefer staying in the outer banks to shop, but it’s not always possible with the limited number of stores.
“do you think you have time next week to take me to get my haircut?” wheezie asks, already looking a bit like a mini you, and you have no doubt she’ll ask for a similar haircut.
“of course, wheezie girl!” you nod before letting out a squeal when one of your favorite songs come on, you both belting out the words as you make your way back towards tanneyhill, driving through marshy swamplands, little towns and finally crossing over the bridge.
you pull up the driveway, surprised how eerily quiet it seems to be. usually rafe would be running out the door to make sure you didn’t carry anything in.
“stay in the car for a sec wheezie girl…” you have a strange feeling building, and you always trust your gut. you look back to make sure she doesn’t follow you as you walk into the house to hear muffled grunting.
“rafe?” you call out, your cautious footsteps turning into a run as you make your way further into the house until you see rafe being held up by john b, jjs arm pushing forward to punch him in the gut.
“stop it!” you shout, running in to push jj away, but the second rafe is out of john bs tight hold, he turns to attack them, bravely taking on both in a flair of fists.
“stop it, rafe!” you shout, pulling at his arm. he only pauses when he feels your gentle touch, but john b doesn’t quit, reaching out to hit rafe again, right in the nose as he instantly starts to bleed.
“sarah!” you scream, finally noticing her in the corner of the room, sat with a glazed look in her eye with her knees pulled up to her chest. “stop your freaking attacking dog boyfriend!” you step between the boys, all three of them panting heavily, rafes nose dripping blood down the front of his shirt.
“we are fucking rescuing her!” jj says, puffing his chest up.
“what?” you turn to look at sarah, waiting for an explanation.
“rafe tried to lock me in the house.” she finally says, seeming to shake out of whatever daze she’s in as she stands up. “he tried to stop me from seeing john b.”
“im just trying to do whats best for you, sarah.” rafe says, his voice sounding hoarse from the fight. “he’s a bad guy.”
“no he’s not!” sarah shouts, no doubt going to start in on tirade when you hold your hand up.
“sarah, go with john b. just…” you let out a deep sigh. “get out of here. be back by dark though.” you shoo her away. no way she’s going to actually listen to you and be back by sundown, but at least it gives you time to figure out what’s going on and tend to rafe.
you turn to watch them leave, frown appearing on your face when you see wheezie standing there, looking like a scared little girl you once knew.
“wheeze-” you call to her, but she runs up her stairs into her room, slamming her door loudly. a problem for later, you decide as you turn to rafe.
“come on, baby, lets get you cleaned up.” you say softly, trying to lessen the anger so visible on his features. you lead rafe into the kitchen, wetting a rag with warm water as you gently drag it over his face, feeling tears well up in your eye when you see his busted lip.
“how was shopping? did you have fun?” rafe asks, making you glare at him.
“don’t you dare try to change the topic, rafe cameron. what happened?” you sigh.
“john b and those pogues are fucking criminals. there’s someone who has been robbing houses, and i don’t doubt it’s those fucking-” rafe lets out an angry grunt when you press the washcloth against his cheek, a bruise already forming. “im just trying to protect my family.”
“sarah isn’t a kid anymore, you gotta let her protect herself.” you say softly. “besides, wheezie seeing you all beat up and bloodied isn’t-”
“it was only because it was two against one.” rafe counters.
“baby.” you shake your head. “you’re missing the point. you have no proof that they’re doing anything. trust sarah, alright? i’ll talk to her later.”
“what would we do without you.” rafe smiles, cringing slightly when it stretches his lip, but it doesn't stop him from pressing his mouth against yours, wrapping his arms around your waist.
“you deserve the cameron last name more than sarah does.” rafe says, holding you tight against him, feeling your hands shaking slightly. “gonna marry you one day.”
“alright, buddy.” you giggle, making rafe roll his eyes as you pull away. he loves to talk about your future together despite still being so young. you can’t say you haven’t spent time imagining it yourself. “im gonna go talk to wheeze.”
“okay.” rafe gives you another kiss before watching you walk away.
you walk softly up the stairs, tapping your knuckles against wheezies door before opening it up.
“hey, everyone is okay.” you say softly, seeing her sitting on her bed, phone in hand, no doubt scrolling to distract from anything she’s feeling.
“i’m fine.” wheezie shakes her head. she may look fine, but you can see the look in her eyes. she’s just as shaken as you are, if not more.
“it’s okay to not be, though.” you sit down on the bed next to her. “you saw your brother getting beat up, you’re allowed to not be okay with seeing that.”
“its just…” wheezie sighs. “sarah has been so different lately since she started hanging out with john b. she even lied to me the other day.”
“im sorry, wheezie girl.” you wrap her in a tight hug. “your sister loves you. she’s just a teenager, going through a rebellious phase of life. she doesn’t realize that her actions have consequences and can hurt the people she loves.”
“will you talk to her?” wheezie asks. “you always know what to say.”
“of course.” you nod, pulling away from the hug, forcing a smile on your face. “but hey, let’s go get our shopping bags.”
“okay.” wheezie manages a smile.
you walk downstairs to see rafe has already brought everything in from the car, placing it all throughout the front entrance.
you smile as wheezie instantly goes for the sephora bags as you wrap your arms around rafe, pressing your head against his chest.
“its all gonna be alright.” you tell him.
“as long as you’re with me, you’re right.” rafe presses a kiss to the top of your head, his eyes bulging when he sees the dress wheezie pulls out. 
“you are not wearing that-” he begins to argue, finger wagging just like his dad would.
“it’s not for me, its for y/n!” wheezie argues.
“oh.” rafe looks down at you, noting the blush spread across your cheeks. “well, you can wear that but only for me.”
“rafe!” you squeal while wheezie makes a grossed out face.
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thranduel · 10 months
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some facts about astarion that i find very cute/meaningful :)
i wanted to share this so more people can learn about him and appreciate who he is deep down, behind the mask he wears. before cazador turned him, he was just like any other person; he had hobbies, passions and emotions. those things are still there, but they’re just hidden amidst all the darkness. he was so young when he first turned that he barely had a chance to enjoy life or figure himself out. so many people miss out on the complexity of his character due to only focusing on his physical appearance or labelling him as a cruel villain, but in order to see that he’s so much more than that and he’s capable of growing as a person, all you need to do is show him a bit of love!
- he loves embroidery and poetry
- he approves when you pet the owlbear cub because most people view it as a monster (the same way people have always viewed him). it’s like he finds comfort in the fact that you can love and care for something that most people are afraid of, and it gives him hope that you may feel the same way about him too
- if you put a flower on his grave, he smiles and says "cute"
- he comes up to you in camp just to thank you and tell you how grateful he is that you allowed him to make his own decision (after you defend him and don't force him to drink the drow's blood) because he is so used to being told what to do and he was forced to use his body for so many years
- in that same scene, he will hold your hand whether you choose to stay in a romance with him or be friends instead, because he loves and appreciates you no matter what, and any sort of relationship with you is so important and meaningful to him
- if you try to romance karlach and astarion at the same time, he tells you to choose karlach over him, even if he loves you and it hurts him to do so, because he can see that karlach loves you too. he says that normally an arrangement would work for him, but after everything karlach has been through and how fragile her heart is already, he doesn’t want to get in the way or see her hurt
- if you try to romance halsin and astarion at the same time, he just wants you to do what makes you happy, even though you can tell it hurts him if you choose halsin. he’s also worried that you’re unhappy because he hasn’t slept with you (he should never have to worry about that ☹️), so he doesn’t want to stop you from enjoying yourself. in this situation and the one with karlach, you can see that there are moments where he puts others before himself and thinks about their feelings more than his own
- if you’re playing as the dark urge and you’re trying to resist it, he is so incredibly comforting and tries to give you strength and encouragement. one of my favourite astarion lines is this: “you’re not alone in this, none of us are.”
some more lines that i love:
“i don’t hate you. because this is not you. but whatever it is, you’ll get through it. and i’ll be here to make sure you do.”
“whatever it is that’s controlling you, we can fight it. i know that better than anyone.”
“this thing won’t have you. it won’t win.”
“easy now, darling. you’ve got this. and i’ve got you.”
- when you try to break up with him because you’re transforming into a mindflayer and you tell him you’re becoming something horrible, he gets so upset that you would even think that way and tells you that you’re wonderful and he doesn’t care about what you look like. then he says he would get more stares walking down a street than you to try and make you feel better
- if you love and care for him and remind him that there is still good out there, he genuinely wants to grow, be a better person and break the cycle of power and terror that started centuries ago
- he approves when you help people that are considered outcasts or "freaks" because he has felt that way too
- he risked his life and got punished for letting a man go instead of luring him back to cazador because it’s implied he cared about him in some way and he couldn't hurt him (not entirely sure about this one, this is just how i interpreted it based on his voice and mannerisms when he was talking about him)
- he approves when you give an orphaned child food (act 3)
- he becomes vulnerable, honest and more gentle with you once you start treating him like a person, because for the first time in his life, he actually feels safe with someone
- he's extremely insecure despite the mask he wears at the beginning of the game and he doesn't believe he is capable of being genuinely loved for who he is as a person. when you get close to him and tell him you care for him and give him a hug, he is taken aback at first, but then he believes you and hugs you back. also, when you're playing as the dark urge, you get this line: "you like him for more than his looks, but he will never believe that." this is proof that astarion is so used to being reduced to his physical appearance after what he was forced to do for so many years, and he thinks that's the only reason why people like him. he struggles with intimacy and forming strong emotional bonds, so that's why it makes your relationship with him even more meaningful when he realises that you truly do love him for who he is, not just for his looks and body
- when the drow you met at moonrise shows up in act 3 and tries to make you drink something, astarion tells you to say no, because the only thing she's offering is pain and he doesn't want to see you hurt
- if you romance him, stop him from doing the ritual and help him defeat cazador, he tells you that you are the only person he's ever truly cared for
- if you defeat cazador without him and tell him you just wanted to protect him, he gets upset at first because you left him behind without telling him and he wanted to take revenge himself, but then he becomes understanding and says “maybe this is what’s best? the kind of power that ritual offered could ruin a person. even me.” this shows how much he’s grown and matured as a person and he’s aware of the consequences of too much power. the scene also ends with him telling you that he’s grateful for something that you did to help him (again).
- he becomes more self-aware, straightforward and honest over time and he doesn’t pretend like he’s perfect. he tells you that you were by his side through all the bloodlust and pain and misery, despite all of his flaws and mistakes. you remained patient with him and trusted him even though it was an objectively stupid thing to do, but he is so grateful for it because you believed he could become a better person (and he did)
- this is sad but he remembers some of the names of the people he had to lure back to cazador and even the memories he shared with them. you can see this during the scene with sebastian, and it’s clear that he actually cared about him (not sure how many situations were like this, but there was definitely more than one)
- if you say “i’m sorry we couldn’t save the other vampire spawn”, he says:
“we could have tried. we could have given them the same chance i had. i was able to go out into the world and make better choices. to go against my nature and become more than a blood-sucking monster. maybe they would have done the same. or maybe not - but did we have the right to take that choice away from them?”
this scene shows how much astarion has grown and how compassionate and empathetic he can be towards others. he understood what it felt like to have his own freedom taken away while cazador made all his decisions for him, so he didn’t want to put the other vampire spawn through that too (especially because he still feels so guilty for luring them there in the first place)
- if you romance him and he stays as a vampire spawn and you choose to help him look for a cure so he can stand in the sun again, this is revealed during the epilogue scene:
“one night, he tells you that these last six months of happy memories are the counterweight to two hundred years of misery.”
he’s finally truly happy and free, and the short time he’s spent with you is already so incredibly powerful and important to him. being with you has positively impacted his life in such a massive way that it makes all those centuries of pain and misery feel so much smaller
- another sweet line from astarion during the epilogue scene after he tells you to go catch up with your other friends and see how they’re doing:
“i’ll be here when you’re ready. i’ll always be here, my love.”
THE CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT AND GROWTH 😭🫶🏼 he’s become so kind, loving, respectful, genuine and sincere. i’m so proud of him 🥹
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freedomfireflies · 9 months
Text
Bite Me*
Summary: Part of Halloween Kinktober, Freaky Fun
The one where your boyfriend, Harry, is a vampire.
And you wish you could feel what he felt.
Word Count: 3.2k
*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*
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“Easy…easy, sweet dove. Need to relax for me. Can smell how nervous you are. Take a deep breath, hm?”
Shaky fingers gather in front of your stomach as you nod nervously. Staring up at your boyfriend with anticipation and remorse. “Sorry, I just…I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Nothing,” he says quickly, reaching up to brush some hair behind your ear. “There is nothing wrong with you, darling. It’s chemical. You’re meant to feel nervous around me. It’s nature’s design. To keep you safe.”
You nod again, catching a glimmer of light from the sharp tooth peeking out from behind his lip. “I know, I just…I wish it would stop. I wish we could just be, you know? Without me being so…”
He studies you for a moment, a look of adoration on his face as he hums again and cups your cheek. “I know.”
You nestle into his touch rather contently before he begins to smile, now dipping down to nudge his nose with yours. 
“If you want…I can make the bad feeling go away,” he whispers with a slight purr. “Can make it all better again.”
Hopeful, your lashes flutter. “Really?”
He nods once. “Mhm. Just wanna help you, dove. Want you to feel good.”
And now you understand what he means, the thought sending a spark down to your toes. It’s rare he feeds from you. After all, he considers the act to be degrading and disrespectful. He only ever feeds from animals or blood bags unless you’ve specifically asked.
But the truth is, you love when he feeds from you. For a plethora of reasons, one of which being the overwhelming sense of need and dependance on him that follows. Or the way his eyes grow darker and his entire demeanor changes. How much stronger he becomes feeding on human blood, specifically the blood of someone he loves.
But another reason lies with his fangs. The venom that becomes injected into your bloodstream, forcing you to feel whatever emotion or desire he feels. 
It’s a trick used to lure and calm his prey into submission while he feeds, but you find another use for it. Because if he’s filled with serenity or anger or lust…you feel it, too. You feel him. Only him.
And it’s your absolute favorite feeling in the world.
His other hand now reaches for your neck, fingers gently tapping the sides of your throat. “Just say the word, darling. And I’ll give you anything you want.”
You feel your chest deflate, all the air evaporating from your lungs as he slowly urges you back against the wall. Bracing you there as he awaits your decision.
He knows what you want. And he knows that you’d tell him otherwise. 
Your fingers tangle in the dark shirt on his chest, desperate to keep him near you. “Do it. Please.”
He tilts your head back, letting his lip curl up until his fang is revealed. “Are you sure, my dove?”
Another fervent nod. “Yes. Please, Har…please, need to feel it. Need to feel you.”
He leans closer, letting the tips of his sharp teeth graze over the sensitive skin of your throat. Right above your pulse point. “Gotta be really sure, darling. Don’t want to hurt you. Or lose control.”
“You won’t,” you exhale, feeling more confident than you sound. “Know you won’t.”
Truth be told, you wouldn’t mind if he did. Even in his darkest moments, he remains your fiercest protector. Never allowing anyone to hurt you.
Not even himself.
You feel him breathe against your neck, perhaps preparing himself for what he’s about to do. Or maybe he’s indulging in your smell. Reveling in the realization of what he’s about to do. What he’s about to taste.
Then, almost as if overcome with a surge of confidence, he bites down – hard. Enough to break the skin and allow his venom to travel into your system.
It’s instantaneous, the feeling. The way your muscles dissolve into jelly, the way your mind fills with a certain haze, and the way your stomach begins to coil.
It’s overwhelming, but it’s him. And you whimper as his other hand falls to your hip to keep you steady, making sure you remain upright and in his arms.
He waits a moment or two to make sure the venom has taken effect before he slowly retracts his fangs and pulls away. You know if he’d punctured you any deeper or kept the sharp teeth inside of you any longer, the taste of your blood would have driven him mad. Tempting him beyond reason until he began to lose control.
But he knows his limits by now. Knows exactly how far he can push himself around you, and you admire him for it.
Your legs shake as you slump against the wall, held up by his grip as he studies you carefully. Looking for signs of remorse or panic.
He’s learned a trick for sucking a majority of the poison out of your system – if it were to come to that. And while it’s tricky and tedious, you know he’d do it in a heartbeat if he felt you were in danger or if you regretted your choice.
Instead, you simply smile at him, and nod languidly. “M’good, Har,” you assure him. “M’so good.”
He seems to exhale a grateful breath, thumb stroking your cheek gently as he now glances over your wound. “I need to clean it—"
“No,” you whimper, keeping him close. “Not yet. Don’t go yet.”
He chuckles, the corner of his mouth curling into a smirk. “All right, dove. I’m here. How do you feel, hm? You feel calm yet?”
You nod again before your lashes flutter. “Yeah. Calm, and…and happy, I think?”
He hums. “I imagine. You do make me happy.”
“It’s strange, though,” you admit, brows furrowing in thought. “Feels…heightened. Or more potent. There’s this…this yearning. This need for something.”
He regards you for a moment more. Curious and seemingly amused by your confusion before suddenly, your eyes snap to his.
You suck in a sharp inhale – something akin to a gasp. “Are you…are you horny?”
You expect his surprise, but all you find is smug fascination. “Well,” he begins slowly, letting his knuckles graze delicately beneath your jaw, “the term horny is a little juvenile. And it could never even begin to describe what I feel for you.”
He steps closer, lips ghosting just above yours while you feel your breath hitch.
“But…yes,” he whispers, glancing down at your mouth with a smile. “I suppose I am. Can’t exactly help it, darling, can I? When you look…and taste…and smell so goddamn divine.”
Another whimper bleeds from your throat as he begins to guide you away from the wall and toward the bed just to the left of you.
“Tell me…how does it feel, dove, hm?” he murmurs, touch strong yet determined. “Do you feel me? Feel how much I need you?”
This nod is quick and zealous. Because you do. It’s all you feel. This desire to have – to take and ruin. In the best possible way. It’s a similar sensation to the lust you already feel for him. Your hunger to explore the dangerous but loving man you call your own.
“Yeah?” He’s grinning like a mad man at the way you so quickly fall apart. “Can I tell you a secret, darling?” 
You whimper pitfully as you gaze up at him.
Lowering his voice, he tightens his grip. “When I’m with you…I always feel like this.”
With that, he nudges you down to sit on the mattress before surging forward to press his lips to yours. Kissing you so hard, you feel dizzy. It’s perfection. Like quenching a burning flame. Like taking that first drink of water on a hot day. Fixing a desperate need – succumbing to a craving. 
And it feels as though this kiss fixes every one of your problems. Because it does – he does. Breaks you and puts you back together again all in the same moment. It’s almost addicting. You feel insatiable, hands disappearing into his curls as you yank him down until his chest is flush with yours.
The two of you roll and writhe around on the bed for a minute or two before he leans back to offer you air. He knows you won’t take a moment to breathe otherwise, and his smug smirk merely worsens the ache between your thighs.
“Not so nervous now, hm?” he muses.
You hook your leg around his hip and attempt to grind yourself against his thigh. “Please…”
“Please what, dove?” He presses his lips to the base of your throat, trailing them down your sternum and toward your chest. “What’s it feel like, what do you need?”
But you don’t have any answer for him. Instead, all you can do is stare at the stunningly generous man as he works his way down your body. As he unbuttons your shirt and kisses over the swell of your breast. 
The stain of your blood from his lips smears across your nipple before he takes it into his mouth. Sucking and licking at the tender skin while he kneads the other one in his palm.
You arch from the mattress, desperate to disappear into his strong frame while he chuckles darkly and allows his fangs to reemerge. 
He uses them sparingly – not as a weapon but as a toy. A tool in the game of your lust.
The sharp edge pricks your skin, enough to make you gasp his name and tug on him harder. He smiles a bit bigger and carries on with his quest. Moving down your stomach and toward the waistband of your pants.
Cold, nimble fingers pop the buttons free and tug the fabric down your legs. Revealing your trembling thighs to his hungry gaze. He looks at you like you’ve been served to him on a platter. But not in the way another vampire might.
No, Harry’s look of mesmeric adoration lies in the idea of your body. In the warmth of your cunt and the soft skin of your legs. In the way you draw him in, the way you hold him, clench around him.
It’s hard for him to feel most things these days. 
But he always feels you.
He settles his body near your ankles, providing him the right angle and amount of space to spread you open and study you.
His thumb reaches for you. Pushes into your clit before dragging down between your folds as you gasp.
His expression reveals nothing. No inkling as to what he’s thinking but you know his mind is running wild with ideas.
He finds your soaked little hole, circling it once before dragging the wet substance back up and through. 
“Shh,” he coos, taming your desolate cries. “It’s okay, dove. I’ve got you.”
“Har,” you whimper, fingers itching to reach for him as he settles onto his stomach. “Please…”
You can see the reflection of light on his fangs. The way they extend past his red, swollen lips and ghost above your skin.
He nips at your hip a time or two – a slight sting that dissolves into something excruciatingly pleasurable – before he dances his mouth down. Torturing you with what’s to come instead of simply giving it to you.
“You smell divine, darling,” he purrs, groaning deep within the back of his throat. “Just might kill me again.”
You’d laugh if you had the strength, instead peering down your body at him with a desperate need. “H, I need…need—”
“Need me, hm?” He exhales a gentle breath across your clit and it’s so very cold. But it makes you jump, a new wave of arousal seeming to soak the sheets beneath. “Need me to make it better, yeah?”
You nod swiftly. “Yes…yeah. Hurts, Har.”
“Hurts?” he repeats with faux sympathy. “Oh, dove. Bet it does. Bet it’s all achy.”
Your head moves on its own accord, and you feel your stomach quiver when his cool hands curl around your thighs, keeping them spread.
“I imagine,” he whispers, returning his eyes to your pussy. “Cause I know how much it aches for me.”
He dives in, tongue lapping at your warmth and wetness without mercy as you cling to the sheets and arch from the bed.
His arms fold over your hips, keeping you pressed down and pliable to his intentions as he begins. Licking, sucking, and nibbling at certain spots – but never the spot you need him most.
The tantalizing edge of his fang grazes your soft, sensitive cunt. Sometimes harder, sometimes softer. But always impatient, desperate to feel you anyway he can.
Truth be told, you suppose he enjoys feeding on you this way just as much. In fact, this is what he claims is his nourishment whenever he’s feeling weak and unwell. One taste of your pussy and he’s a changed man.
He has you every day. Makes sure you’re at his beck and call – which you already are, anyway. 
If he’s working, if he’s cooking, if he’s reading. He merely gives you a look and calls you by that familiarly loving nickname, and next thing you know, you’re sitting on his face.
The stretch of your muscles is almost distracting, but not nearly as distracting as his groans of pleasure. The way he curses to himself as he swallows you down. Nudging at your cunt with his mouth like you’re the best meal he’s ever had.
And then…those perfect lips find your clit. He sucks, and moans, and you cry out his name. Grasping onto his hair in a futile attempt at stability and more.
He lets you tug him closer. You imagine – if he were still alive – he’d be suffocated by your pussy. Which…he’d probably enjoy.
As it is, he continues his ministrations almost mercilessly while you squirm beneath him and attempt to buck up against his tongue.
“I know,” he whispers, almost soothingly, and it feels like a vast contrast to the way he forces you into so much pleasure. “Know, darling. Can hear your pretty, little heart racing. Try to breathe, yeah? While you still can.”
You suck in a greedy gasp, eager to obey, as you focus on the sounds coming from between your thighs. It’s sinful and sensual and it echoes around the room until it’s all you hear.
“Doing so good, babydove,” he murmurs, glancing up just long enough to see the first tear slip from your eye. “It’s a lot right now, I know. I know, but you can take it. Always do so good for me. Let me see you cum, yeah? Let me see this pretty pussy cum for me.”
And you want to more than anything. Chasing the need in your own belly along with the need from his venom. The combined rush of ecstasy that makes stars explode across your eyelids as more destitute sounds fall from your tongue. 
His hands suddenly slip beneath your back, forcing you from the bed as he repositions you and nearly pulls you right through him. 
Large fingers grope the tender flesh of your ass as he holds you against his mouth and sucks the sensitive nerves between puckered lips. 
“Tell me,” he ushers softly, a golden hue to those vivid eyes watching you closely. “Tell me how bad I need you. Tell me how much I love you—”
“Har,” you gasp, trembling in his touch. “Can’t…can’t…m’gonna cum, I…please—”
“Try. Tell me. Tell me that you feel me—”
“I do,” you whine. “I do, I feel you. Feel you, Har. So good. It’s so good, please—”
“All right, darling. You gonna let me taste you? Need to taste you, darling. Can’t live without it—”
“Harry—”
He pulls away just enough to raise his hand and smack it down your cunt. The cold metal of his ring catching your clit before two more spanks are laid in succession.
You moan loudly – almost undone by the eroticism itself – before he dips back down, and grazes the delicate bud with the edge of his fang.
You feel him slip a finger inside. Pumping you once – twice – before he adds a second. Wanting to fill you and finger-fuck you to the edge as quickly as possible.
It hits you then. Overpowers you and knocks the wind from your lungs. 
You fall apart in his hands, against his tongue. Moaning and whimpering as your toes curl and your eyes roll to the back of your head. It feels as though you cum twice as hard – perhaps a result of the venom or the symbolism of his need for you. The way your taste has satisfied his thirst.
“Yes, yes…there you go, that’s my fucking girl.” His tone is rough but riddled with lust. He groans like he’s never been filled with so much devotion. An anxious almost obsessed sound that drags your orgasm on at least a few seconds longer. “Give it to me, dove…fucking give it to me—”
“Harry—” You gasp his name like it’s the last sound you’ll ever make. Tears building in your eyes before they cascade down your warm cheeks. 
Ever the sadist, Harry works you through until your cunt is throbbing and far too sensitive to the touch. Despite your cries and whimpers for mercy, he carries on. Thrusting, licking, and sucking until you can hardly breathe.
Eventually he releases you and leans back. Perhaps able to hear the erratic racing of your pulse beneath your chest as he now works to hush your anxious mewling.
Crawling up your body with care, his fangs retract, and he buries his face in your neck to keep you still. Pressing his chest to yours in an effort to help calm you.
“It’s okay,” he whispers, lips grazing your skin as he speaks. “It’s okay, dove. You’re okay. God, did so fucking good for me, darling. Always taste so good, make me so happy.”
You tiredly grasp onto his arms, needing to hold onto him just as tightly as he’s holding onto you. Wanting to share in this moment as he smirks against your throat. 
“You okay?” he asks you now. “You’re nervous again.”
“No, I’m…I’m okay,” you assure him through a pant. “I just…it feels so good. So…heavy, you know? Overwhelming.”
He chuckles softly and pushes up onto his elbows to get a good look at you. Thumb finding your cheekbone as he traces the delicate curve of your face with great adoration. “Are you saying I overwhelm you?”
You nod, smiling giddily as you tug your bottom lip between your teeth. “In the best possible way.”
Grinning himself, he leans down to capture your lips with his. And it’s soft and slow and an oddly angelic end to such a devilish evening.
“Har?” you whisper, lashes fluttering shut as you nose your way under his jaw.
“Yes, dove?”
Your kisses trail below his ear, making his fingers flex. “You know what I think?”
“What's that, darling?”
You begin to smirk wickedly as you slip your hand around the back of his neck and tug him closer. Allowing the edge of your teeth to finally make contact with his skin.
He stills.
“I think it’s my turn now.”
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Just wanna put in a quick note and clarify that even though she was feeling a bit of his horniness and desire, she was still very much horny all on her own HAHAHA this was 1000000% consented to from beginning to end from both parties!
Also vampire!harry is so fun?? And I loved this?? WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME??
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