#but it's a rough road for him

[not-poignant]

I really hope Ash doesn't end up feeling towards humans the way Augus does 🥺 What makes him my favourite character is is capacity to love and accept anyone no matter their species. It would be a shame for him to lose that part of himself. I understand he has to eat humans and detach himself from them in order to do that but I pray he doesn't become completely cold towards them. But of course he's your character Pia so I'll accept whatever choices you make regarding him xoxo

I mean, you'll never see most of those changes because they're all purely theoretical at the moment. I don't plan on writing anything past The Ice Plague.

More thoughts about Ash under the Read More.

The thing is, Ash was the perfect exaggerated example of someone who keeps everyone happy except for himself.

He sublimated his own personality, his own wants and needs, and hurt himself and tortured himself in order to accept everyone.

He's literally the sign that doing this is actually really kind of unhealthy for you, even if everyone else wins.

Ash will always be extremely body positive, and body accepting. Augus is too! Fat fae, thin fae, ugly fae, beautiful fae, you name it, they love it, and support it. This is never going to change. On a physical/aesthetic level, they can accept all fae, all species of fae.

But Ash directly harms himself by accepting and loving all humans. The whole arc of his character and story is that this is bad for him, and actually bad for everyone to do. The Raven Prince finds him so disgusting because he's like 'you'll literally destroy yourself for humans. Why won't you respect who you are as a fae?'

It's good and healthy for him to lose that part of himself. If he one day sees his prey as prey, then that's... appropriate, and healthier than the complexity of him making random one-off companions all the time, never seeing these people again, and having sex with them because he's literally starving himself and in a constant state of starvation.

His 'niceness' hid an extremely feral eating disorder, self-rejection, self-hatred, and an inability to accept himself. He gave everyone else what he refused to give himself, and the Glashtyn suffered for it, and he suffered for it too.

Ash is like... the ultimate People Pleaser. He's just a recovering one now.

He'll always enjoy accepting fae where they're at, and making them happy, but that's not all he is. And it's the reason Augus was so disapproving of it, and also the Raven Prince, and also Mosk. Anyone who got to know Ash better was like 'oh shit.'

Ash's arc in the canon universe is to literally start to respect himself more than he respects the food he eats. To love himself just a little bit more than the food he eats.

That might be off-putting to you, or something that saddens you, or something that you don't like about him, but imho to me that's a really powerful message, especially for chronic People Pleasers. Imho, the whole Unseelie arc and the reason I was largely writing about Unseelie characters was to highlight the ugly humanity in them, and then be like 'they still deserve love, and comfort, and to keep growing, and to keep being comforted actually, no matter what.'

And that's especially true for Ash, who is the least connected to his Unseelie self out of all of them.

Ash still accepts all the fae he meets. But yeah, his relationship to food has changed, because his relationship to himself has changed. I think he's sad about it sometimes, and still wishes he didn't have to eat humans sometimes, but...he does.

[yellowhollyhock]

you’ve mentioned your sainw au before and im so curious about it. is there some stuff u can share about it ?

yayay thank you for asking!!

it's changed a lot and changing still but here's some background for where it sits now

this is kinda heavy, y'all lmk if you need stuff tagged

I'm not quite sure where to start ahdhs. So SAINW. There are gonna be a few differences from 03 main timeline but one big thing is that the whole plot starts a couple years earlier, Shredder gains power faster. Same as in canon the turtles will think they've defeated him and then he pops back up, but unlike canon they don't get the help from the Utrom and learn about what he is

Donny disappears when they're 16

Within two years the Shredder has shut down New York City, cutting it off from the rest of the world and starting to capture people (both by taking over corporations and just kidnapping) to use them to mine for materials for him to build his own transporter and go after the Utrom

Within ten years, Bishop has created a stable mutagen in an attempt to make his own super army to defeat Shredder, however it is harder to control than he intended and Shredder takes over the operation and instead uses the mutants to subdue the humans. He'd already built up a regime in the states surrounding New York and in Japan; now because of Bishop's mutant army he is quickly able to gain power all over the world. He controls the mutants by making them fear the humans and vice versa.

The turtles are known by the general public, Shredder presents them as stray mutants he lost control of, he's pushing the narrative that mutants want to destroy humanity and it's his control that holds them back to only take out their anger on those who defy him. Even within the rebels people are generally wary of mutants, makes things hard for the boys

Anyway, around the fifteen year mark they lose Splinter. In one last grief-fueled desperate maneuver they go after the Shredder in his own headquarters. They lose Casey. They find out what only Bishop had known previously: Shredder is an alien.

One loss after another is too much for Raph, meanwhile Leo is handling it by shutting down, the two of them fight and leave Mikey stranded in the middle.

Thirty years later it's the episode as we know it. Ch'rell's true identity is common knowledge; the world is his, no reason to hide. Donny shows up, but he's the same age as when he left--maybe even a bit younger? He gathers his brothers and defeats the Shredder. And then he disappears again. April is alone.

She and Angel are the only ones who really know the turtles' story (I decided Leatherhead didn't make it oops). Now they've got a devastated world to rebuild, especially in their own city which used to be filled and is now sparsely populated by malnourished mine workers who haven't seen much of the sun since Shredder took over decades ago.

They tell their story, make the turtles known as heroes. Their voices mean something because they're also doing so much to rebuild, connect people to each other again and make the infrastructure work, provide food and water etc.

This is when they meet Lotus Blossom, who comes to New York looking for her friend Leonardo. She's been exchanging letters with him for years. They met in Japan; his family didn't even know he went to Japan.

She's just looking for someone to connect with. She's in a world now where so many have lost everyone and feel alone, but that's how she's always felt, and somehow others finally understanding feels more alienating than ever.

She finds April and Angel, because she recognizes Leonardo in the story of the mutant turtles who saved the world. She's prone to becoming possessed which is going to,, cause some things,, in a world so full of ghosts. Anyway she finds something like purpose and belonging in helping them put the world back together

And because I'm insane I also decided just recently that Venus, who lost her father fighting the Shredder, hears about mutant turtles very like herself who finally defeated him, goes to New York

So now you have the crew together! April, savvy political leader and scientist, keeper of the stories being the one who best knew the turtles; Angel, spite-fueled disabled war hero with years of abandonment issues built up from her parents, her friends, eventually everyone except April; Lotus Blossom, ex-mercenary accidentally turned spiritual leader for all these lost and lonely people, feeling wholly under-qualified to offer any sort of comfort but has to try because without this she's just adrift; Venus, grieving the only family she ever knew and finding herself struggling with magic she had previously mastered as she tries to direct it to helping these people, always eager to learn more about the turtles

And then one day they run into this turtle-shaped stranger trying to fix the irrigation system they've set up because, oh I mean no disrespect this is very well done, but you see it's got these issues and I can fix it in this way--

It's Donny. Donny's shown back up in New York. He's the correct age now and is very shocked to hear stories of himself showing back up to defeat the Shredder. "Of course as soon as I heard the borders were open I set out for New York.. I heard stories about the turtle heroes, I didn't hold out much hope my brothers had survived.. I'm amazed and grateful to find you, April."

And that's where the plot kicks off, which will involve a whole lot of grieving both healthy and otherwise, inter-dimensional shenanigans, accidental acquisition of incredible power and having to work alongside Bishop!

[baycitystygian]

guys I just survived a ladder that wanted to kill me. cheers

[firsthumandisaster]

| 🌱 | The sensation of falling, impossibly fast, like a bullet fired, was all Vash could feel for what felt like an eternity. Physical sensation in this place was a curious delayed reaction, both sharper than reality, and not real at all?

The firs thing he became of aware of was the ‘wind’, desert night cold air. His eye opened onto a fractured world. Disorienting and painful to witness. Unbalance and unsteady.

Abruptly, he stopped. No warning, no impact—just stillness so sudden he wondered if he was still ‘there’. He lay on sand, and in one direction—wreckage and fire, and The Big Fall—terrible in its details, the pain he immediately felt of that time. In another direction—grass as far as the eye could see. Yet another direction— Roots, bold and dark and covered in the great purple blooms he had glimpsed moments before he woke in this place.

He would start with the green—it called to him in a way he thought must mean something. Each step made the sand beneath his feet shatter like glass breaking. Deeper with each step—as if keeping him out of that place. The sky fractured and changed, sunset red-orange one moment, midnight stars the next. The greenery changed in sharp contrasts, too, that would have made him feel sick if he’d had the ability.

Vash began to sprint, the sand beneath his feel turned to the green expanse—the shattering of each step turning to old blood and dead grass, sinking beneath his weight and threatening to swallow him—

With a desperate cry, Vash’s hand caught on the edge of a platform, and everything changed again—

The ship. The SEEDs ship. The recreation room? flora everywhere, even hiding the ceiling, somehow, as if enclosed in a sphere of it.

“Vash?” His voice echoed uncertainty into the silence. “Vash!!”

He’d wonder later about calling out his own name, and knowing that it wasn’t himself he was looking for—not exactly, anyway…

Vash looked down at himself, seeing himself as he had been in recent months. Except the red of his coat was dark, saturated with his power, almost purple-black in color. Lines marked his skin in a way he’d never seen before. Not quite like Greenie’s, not softly curved and deliberate, but jagged like lightning burning lines of blue-purple-black in his hand. A glance at his bangs showed his hair was nearly black as before. So even that appeared on him, here. Barely a touch of blond left in his hair though—that was a curiosity for another time.

Vash started pacing the sphere, looking into the greenery, trying to find any sign of the young Vash, or a way out. Was this a trap?

“Vash! Where are you? Are you here?”

@fortheloveofpeaceandpeople

[skeleton-in-a-hoodie]

Thinking about The Road To Hell Turtles and Yoshi again.

He's their nephew, their son, their sweet baby boy. Looking at him reminds them of their dead sister and all their worst mistakes.

They're training him to be a ninja, teaching him everything they know. They have a massive secret they won't tell him, and the more time goes on the worse it gets.

He's the last of their old family. He feels out of place in their new one.

They'd give him the world if he asked. They can't spend time with him because they have to make sure there's a world for him to grow up in.

He's growing up so fast, they wish he could stay their little boy forever. He has to grow up quickly, or he might not survive.

He made the Lair a home. They destroyed his.

He's everything to them and they love him, they love him, they love him.

They're petrified that they'll repeat history and destroy him.

[mc-tummy-blur]

Day 2 of Cringetober: Self Insert Featuring Fictional Adulthood Crush Stan Sanchez From Road 96

Click for better quality

Ko-fi

[benicebefunny]

Burning Man has been rained out and Jimmy Buffet is dead.

Please spare a thought for the white boomers.

[redstarfish-art]

AJLskjawleal;kedj okay, I never saw the official translation for Law’s hobbies but what? WHAT?

No not the coins thing, I knew about that.

But vagrancy!?!?!?! WHAT!!!?!?!?!?!?!

[flatstarcarcosa]

anyway speaking of The Souping. had an idle thought i forgot about and now i am rotating it like a reheated chicken breast but.

a few years down the line felix has a complication from some of the New Bones in one of his legs. some. statistically low thing that isn’t usually a concern but it pops an infection deep in the bones and metal that they can’t get rid of until the options are ‘lose the leg entirely’ or ‘die’.

[criticalcrux]

♡ [for Grimmjow]

Detailed Pre-Established Relationship Meme

Send me a ♡ and I’ll bold what I want to see with our muses and italicize things I may be open to! (send “heart!” if the symbol is unavailable)

I want our muses to be: friends(which amounts to Grimmjow at least being familiar enough to have some trust and understanding of Jewel's intentions and general habits. Because villain things.) | ex-friends | rivals | rivals with sexual/romantic tension | enemies | enemies with sexual/romantic tension | lovers(ahem, clears throat and coughs a few times, acts casual as fuck) | ex-lovers | partners/coworkers | pen pals/internet friends | friends with benefits | soulmates

Our muses met: as children | as teenagers | as adults | just recently

(for romance) Our muses’ relationship is: still exciting and lively | stable(Ah hah! Ahahahaha maybe in some AUs? Lolol) | starting to feel awkward | in jeopardy | romantic, but the sexual attraction is fading | sexual, but the romantic attraction is fading | toxic and self-destructive(muse as a wargod of destruction it can't be anything else) | unrequited, with my muse pining after yours | unrequited, with your muse pining after mine | determined by fate

(for rivals) Our muses’ relationship is: awkward | fiery | friendly | petty | mostly for show | losing its spark | starting to develop into something more | one-sided, with my muse considering yours a rival | one-sided, with your muse considering mine a rival | determined by fate

(for enemies) Our muses’ relationship is: dangerous to themselves | dangerous to others | based on family matters | based on professional matters | based on lies/misunderstandings | unpredictable | passionate | nothing personal at first, but changes with time | determined by fate

(for friends) Our muses’ relationship is: stable(as in, it's rocky but there's a perceivable middle ground rather then my muse always out for blood and sticking to survival mode.) | sickeningly sweet | the kind of close friendship that makes others jealous(Jewel totally gives that 'ride or die' vibe) | falling apart(He is an asshole) | based on shared interests | based on circumstance (like school or work) | based on family ties | developing into something more (romantic/sexual)(glances around the room, pretends to be unassuming) | developing into something more (antagonistic) | determined by fate

[corvidshipping]

oh that is bang on the money son

[algelicc]

when you love a character so much they inspire you to start drawing them after almost a year long drawing hiatus

[tonycries]

Unhoneymooners!? - G.S.

Synopsis. The universe was surely playing a joke on you. Here you were, trapped on a luxury getaway with your - dangerously handsome, extremely obnoxious - ex. Either you were going to kill each other or end up pinned beneath him, split apart on his cóck. You just didn’t know what would come first.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, exes to lovers, unprotected, argument as foreplay, slight enemies to lovers, more like annoyances actually, cunnilingus, oral (male + female), spitting, creampié, one bed trope, rough, Satoru is still EXTREMELY down bad for you, and unfairly hot, forced proximity, cúmplay, pet names (sweetheart), swearing.

Word count. 8.5k

A/N. It’s impossible to not write Satoru without bullying him at least a little bit.

You broke up with Gojo Satoru exactly 5 months, 2 weeks, and 16 hours ago - not that you were keeping count, of course.

So why was he outside of your resort room blasting “Kill Bill” by SZA like he’s auditioning for the world’s most dramatic comeback tour? On what should’ve marked your fourth anniversary, no less.

Well, given you were the one to lock him out, but still - the stubborn bastard could at least have some decorum. 

With an exasperated sigh, you throw yourself onto the king-sized bed of your honeymoon suite, trying to will away that annoying, grating voice - not SZA, no, more so Satoru singing along at the top of his lungs to the chorus. 

How did you even get here? And with Satoru of all people - your Satoru. Or at least he was this time a little over a year ago. 

You first met Satoru when you were in university, back when he wore those pretentious circled sunglasses and waltzed around those halls like he owned the place. And after a single literature assignment together, he wasn’t just your (self-proclaimed) best friend; he was the reluctantly favorite thorn in your side. 

Like the rest of him, Satoru’s introduction into your love-life was anything but subtle. It wasn’t like he strolled in, gave a polite nod, and blended into the background. Oh no, he bulldozed his way in and dragged you to dance with him on the tables of some dingy frat party in what you could only assume was some joke from the universe at your expense.

And damn him, you think bitterly, you couldn't resist him that night. Spinning you into a dramatic dip, silver chain brushing your face as his half-lidded eyes bored into yours. You couldn’t not kiss him after the way his hands were just searing into your skin. 

God, you’ve never been able to listen to “Gasolina” the same way ever since.  

Satoru was in love as he was in the rest of life - a force of nature, and it was too easy to find yourself caught up in him.

That night at the frat party was just the beginning. From then on was a rollercoaster of everything from heated debates over the best flavor of ramen to impromptu road trips where you’d end up under a carpet of stars. Wrapped in each other’s arms and sharing whispered secrets for an unpromised future - oftentimes where Satoru would crack a joke or two about running away to Tokyo with him. To which you’d laugh it off with a “Yeah yeah, I’d leave everything I’ve known behind in a heartbeat for your dumbass, Toru.”

You just didn’t think that it would be the downfall to your relationship. All the empty promises. 

Because as those heavenly days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, eventually two years had gone by. The whirlwind romance settled into a comfortable rhythm, but with it came the looming promise of graduation and Satoru moving to work under his family company in Tokyo.

Under pressure, it wasn’t long before the cracks began to show, the arguments more frequent, and the silences more deafening. And as your relationship slowly turned into nothing more than a husk of what it used to be - so did the both of you.

Long story short, graduation was a bittersweet goodbye - and you think both of you knew long before it was actually over. Neither of you attended the afterparty - with Satoru on a flight straight to Tokyo and you at home to stuff your face with chocolate. Hey, at least you could blame your tears on finally leaving university, right? 

You had meticulously erased his name from your phone, your social media, and even your dreams - well, almost, the bastard still came around to bother you occasionally. It was messy, painful, and final.

But “final” really didn’t explain your current predicament. Because if there’s one thing you’ve learned about Satoru is that he’s always there - whether you liked it or not. He was there when you needed a partner for that literature assignment, and he was there to turn your world upside down at that dingy frat party.

Hell, he was even there to help you stubbornly chug mountains of ice cream and win that raffle for this five day-long getaway trip to the Maldives. Though, you think he might’ve chugged the ice cream without the promise of a vacation anyway.

But, when ultimately those shiny tickets came in the mail - Satoru wasn’t there. Oh well, it might’ve been a couple’s trip - but you could have a hot girl summer, right? Maybe you could even snag a hottie by the end. You’d almost forgotten that he’d be getting his copy of the tickets as well.

Yet, unfortunately - as the beginning notes of P!nk’s “So What” bursts through the heavy wooden door - you were inevitably reminded of the fact that he was here. Right now. Goading you into coming outside.

You find yourself groaning inwardly (and outwardly) because of course, why wouldn’t he come back even more obnoxious than before? You haven’t seen him in ages, yet here he is, crashing back into your life with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. Or - you furrow your brows at his purposefully off-key singing carrying over the sounds of the waves outside - with the subtlety of a manchild with a JBL and a premium account on Spotify.  

Rubbing your temples in frustration, you contemplate how much longer of this it would take before you’re both kicked out of this resort. And after you ate so many ice creams to win this getaway trip? No chance.

With a resigned sigh, you rise from the bed, smoothing out the bathing suit you’d just put on before the devil incarnate showed up knocking at your door. Something hot and prickly pools in your stomach as you approach it, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at the sheer absurdity of the situation. So like Satoru.

Taking a deep breath to steel yourself, you shakily reach for the handle. It’s fine. It’s not a big deal actually.

…

What’s the worst that can happen?

Slam! 

The door swings open, and there in all his smug glory stands a very shirtless Satoru. Gojo pain-in-your-ass Satoru, the same asshole you’ve blocked on even Gmail. 

Except, you’re momentarily struck by how high you have to raise your eyes to meet his. Are growth spurts even a thing anymore? You didn’t have a chance to take a good look last time before slamming the door shut at the first flash of white hair and a smug grin.

But right now, traitorously, your gaze catches on just how broad his shoulders look and…since when was he so chiseled? Damn you, Tokyo - you were doing him too good.

His hair is slightly longer too, curtaining those slightly more mature features, stopping just above that ever-immature grin. One which moves as he hums, “Well, happy fourth anniversary to me, If I knew this came with the suite then I’d have swam here myself.”

You scoff, suddenly feeling strangely self-conscious as he wiggles his brows, striking blue eyes sweeping your figure from head to toe. “I’d prefer if you swam back. What are you doing?” 

“Why, just showing up to our room on our lil’ honeymoon, sweetheart.” Satoru sing-songs, leaning against the doorframe to fully prevent you from slamming the door in his (admittedly) pretty face again. “And before you try to break my nose with that door again, I won that ticket here fair and square, y’know. I ate just as much ice cream as you did for it.”

“You ate most of those before you knew about the getaway raffle.” you sigh over his nonchalant shrug, pinching your nose, “And stop calling it our honeymoon, I dumped you five months ago.”

“Well aren’t you just the gift that keeps on giving. Keeping count?”

“No. Don’t be a pest.”

“Always thought you had a thing for pests. After all, you did date me.” As Satoru grins impossibly wider, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. He winks, “And if I’m a pest then you’re an itch that just won’t go away.”

“At least I’m not the itch that shows up uninvited to someone’s honeymoon suite.” you hiss. And with that you start shutting the door ever-so-slowly, delighting in the panic that overtakes Satoru’s features as he reaches out frantically.

“Hey!” he sputters, “I didn’t know you’d be here! And besides this ‘pest’ forgot his slippers all the way in Tokyo and can’t stand on flaming-hot boardwalks for too long so let me in.”

And sure enough, you glance down to see that Satoru isn’t wearing any slippers on the scorching boardwalk. The realization almost brings a smirk to your lips. This idiot. 

“Wow.”

“‘Wow’ at my feet or-”

“I should leave you here to rot just for your pure idiocy.” you deadpan, eyes locked on the way he’s burning his soles off yet still has the audacity to flash you a cocky smile.

“But you won’t.” he hums.

A beat passes. One. Two. And Satoru’s grin almost falters, before you finally relent - opening the door just a crack, cursing his entire bloodline under your breath. “You’re incorrigible” you mutter as he saunters inside victoriously, dragging his hefty luggage behind.

“Why change perfection, sweetheart~” he calls out, heading straight for the bedroom, only to let out a delighted “OooOOo” at the sight of the king-sized bed in the middle. The only bed. “How scandalous, maybe you’ll even fall in lov-” 

“Don’t. I’d rather gouge my eyes out with a seashell.” you warn, holding up both keycards threateningly, “I get the bed, you take the couch.”

“But-”

“And I’ve got the keys, so slippers or not you’ll be back out on that boardwalk.” 

A slight smile tugging at the corners of your lips at the way Satoru looked so dramatically crestfallen, you continue - just to be petty, “And no more ‘Kill Bill’ that’s on my angry ex playlist.”

With a heavy sigh he sulkily makes his way to the bathroom, calling out as he does, “Fine. But I’m showering first.”

As he disappears from sight you throw yourself onto your bed, basking in what little peace and quiet you’ll have because of your unwanted guest. This was going to be a-

“And I’m using all of your body lotions.”

“...”

“I will use one of your body lotions.”

Groaning, you sink into the plush mattress, just wishing it would swallow you whole and spare you from this torment. And this was only Day 1? This was going to be a very long five days. 

---

The first night with Satoru, honestly, wasn’t too bad. 

You don’t know what you expected exactly - maybe for him to pour hair dye in your shampoo or something. But he actually stuck to his word, slept on the couch after only a bit of taunting, and used only one of your body lotions. Your best-smelling, most expensive one, but one nonetheless.

Feeling slightly more optimistic, you spent most of the second day at the beach, meanwhile he stuck to lounging by the pool. Add in a bit of pretending you didn’t know him by the salad bar at dinner and that made for an almost-perfect hot girl summer. 

Well, considering that you were rooming with your insufferable longtime ex - in a honeymoon suite of all places. 

The only catch came that night, fully content at the burning soreness from being pushed around by the waves outside. You got ready to splay out on your bed, humming along to the tunes of your playlist and…Satoru’s lamenting?

“I swear my back feels like it’s been run over by a truck. Five of them, and a zoo.” he complains from behind you, dramatically draping himself over the couch - his impromptu bed. 

“Good.”

“What if that was my last straw?”

“Even better.”

His exaggerated, disappointed whine is both embarrassing and almost-endearing as you roll your eyes, resisting the urge to suffocate him with a pillow. “Maybe call your chiropractor guy.”

Satoru shot you a pointed look, his expression a mixture of faux innocence and irritation, which you knew too well. “I wish but he’s trekking through the Himalayas. C’mon~ Don’t you think that lovely king-sized bed is too big for just one?”

“No, but the boardwalk sure is. Maybe you should try it out.” you monotone, getting ready to end this conversation once and for all. 

But when has Satoru ever let you off easy? He sits up abruptly, a devious smile curling his lips. “Ohh, I get it.” he taunts, batting his long lashes mockingly, “You’re scared to sleep in the same bed with me.”

Huh?

“Out of all the idiotic-” you cut yourself off by whirling around to face his smug grin, “Why would I be scared to sleep in a bed with you. I’ve done that far too many times already.”

“Exactly,” he chuckles. “And all those times you could barely last an hour before without keeping your hands off of me. Scared you’ll end up pinned underneath me and stuffed full like old times, sweetheart?”

You narrow your eyes at him despite the heat burning your face. “The only thing I’m scared of is your icicle feet on my side.”

He laughs, a sound that’s equal parts irritating and endearing, and stands up from where he was slumped on the couch. Making his way slowly, but surely towards you, “Oh, c’mon. For old times’ sake, admit it, you miss me.”

"Yeah, missed the peace and quiet I don’t have because of your big mouth,” you scoff. Finding it hard to meet his twinkling gaze as he comes close enough that you’re toe to toe with him. Your cheeks burn at the proximity - hot enough to match the heat radiating off his body. 

Satoru shakes his head, undeterred by your threats. And suddenly you get the overwhelming urge to throw him out the window and straight into the ocean. “You can deny it all you want, but you still have feelings for me.”

Your jaw clenches at his audacity. “You wish. I’d never.”

“Then prove it.”

Damn, he was good.

Which is probably how you found yourself lying in the same bed as Satoru, with a wall of all the pillows in the room erected between you two - and a few extra from room service just in case. 

“Sweetheart, this is a king-sized bed. Is the fortress really necessary?”

You wrap your blankets tighter around yourself, trying to ignore the figure radiating warm right next to you. Muttering out a muffled little, “Yeah, so you can keep your mitts off of me.”

Satoru groans dramatically, bed creaking as he shuffles what you can only assume to be closer to you. “You keep your mitts off of me, you lecher.” he quips, voice dripping with sarcasm as he inches closer.

You stiffen at his proximity, feeling his warmth seep through the layers of blankets and pillows as he chuckles softly, the sound sending shivers down your spine, “Oh, come on, don’t be like that. We used to share a bed all the time.”

“That was before,” you interject. God, you didn’t like where this conversation was going. 

“Before what?” Satoru presses, his voice low and insistent. 

Now, you might’ve let yourself be goaded into sharing a bed but these were old wounds better off left alone. You hiss, tone firm, “Before. Now sleep” 

Before when you didn’t have to make a wall of pillows. Before when he would hold you tight and whisper sweet secrets into your ear. That he’d buy you the biggest ring he saw and promise you the world. Before- 

“I missed you, y’know.” Satoru breaks the silence barely audible over the sound of your own thoughts. The word pangs through your mind and claws at your chest. And at your silence he continues, tone a little lighter, “And stop hogging all the blankets, I’m gonna freeze to-”

“Boardwalk.”

“My apologies, ma’am. Goodnight, ma’am.”

And he sinks back into his pillow with a huff, you let out a sigh of relief. Something hot coiling in your stomach as you close try to catch as much sleep as you possibly could with the bane of your existence laying right beside you. The suddenly taller, dangerously handsome, still as-obnoxious-as-ever bane of your existence. 

You just wonder if he remembered “before”.

Oh, how Satoru remembered “before”. So much so that he had sixteen different playlists dedicated to you even after the breakup.

It’s divine punishment - it has to be. Satoru thinks there’s no reasonable explanation for the series of unfortunate events happening to him other than punishment from his ancestors above for being such a pussy and losing the love of his life.

First he forgets his slippers, then he ends up locked out of his own honeymoon suite by said love of his life. Granted, all thoughts of his poor burnt soles went out the window the moment he caught a glimpse of you in that positively sinful bikini. God, were you glowing. A goddess upon Earth - he could really give the Gojo Satoru of five months ago a good, hard kick.

And now he’s stuck in a - very comfortable - prison with you just inches away, tossing and turning in that way he knows means that you can’t sleep either. 

Honestly, very funny universe, the great Gojo Satoru demands a refund. Way to punk’d him into confronting the feelings he’s desperately been trying to bury these past few months - ever since he got on that plane to Tokyo and contemplated faking a heart attack just to get off. 

Realizing just then that he lost the love of his life - and the only woman who’d tolerate his karaoke nights. But with that realization came another, more jarring one: he was too late. 

Every touch, every laugh, and even every time you rolled your eyes was etched into his very soul, and it felt like a montage from a sappy breakup movie directed by a sadistic screenwriter who had it out for him. 

And it really didn’t help that this was the exact suite he was planning once upon a time to propose in. God, how you’d feed him to the crabs if he said anything about that - nevermind the fact that he was actually one that booked this-

But still, some traitorous, annoying part of his heart interrupts, she still hasn’t made you sleep on the boardwalk yet.

Maybe - just maybe - he’ll wake up to a second chance?

…

Ha. As if.

“I can’t sleep.” Satoru groans out loud, more so to drown out his own thoughts than anything.

“Well, I can. Goodnight.”

Ah, his girl was such a lil’ liar. Undeterred, the mattress creaks as he shuffles his weight to excitedly face you, taking a moment to admire how pretty you looked under the dim moonlight. He plows on, “Hey, if you promise not to make me crab food, wanna walk along the beach and watch the stars?”

A beat of silence. One. Two. so deafening and tense that Satoru was half a second away from obnoxiously laughing it off as a joke and pulling out his Emo Times™ playlist. 

“Or I can go back to the couch and-”

“Shut up. Let’s watch the stars, Satoru.”

But what do you know - maybe the universe hasn’t given up on him just yet. 

And, well, if he woke up the next morning breaching your fortress - your warm breath tickling his neck and his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, like the lifeline he never knew he needed - then, neither of you mentioned it.

---

“Hey, Satoru. You think we’ll always be like this?” you hum into your boyfriend’s chest, barely a whisper as the looming fears of, well, everything ring in your mind. 

He pulls you close, flashing a mischievous grin before planting a dramatic kiss on the top of your head. “Duh, I’ll always be around to drive you dangerously close to a stroke, sweetheart.” 

You roll your eyes, yet bury yourself closer to his warmth anyway.

“Besides, it doesn’t matter if I have to drag you by the leg to Tokyo. Wherever you are is where I belong. ”

---

You’ve come to learn that a resort island is only so big when you’re actively trying to avoid your 6’3 manchild of an ex.

Now that you were rooming with Satoru, sleeping with Satoru (in a literal sense only, of course), and just-so-happening to bump into him at the beach - somehow, talking with him is a little easier, his presence just a bit more exciting than you’d care to admit. 

If the you of four days ago could see what had become of you, then she’d probably slap some sense into you faster than you could say “Kill Bill”. Sleeping in the same bed (still only literally), having dinner, watching the stars - with Gojo Satoru? You’ve gone completely off your rocker. 

But could you really be blamed? These last few days have you feeling like maybe you’ve been dropped into an alternate universe, where you and Satoru never broke up. 

Yet, reality is a persistent little bastard. And with the end of your trip looming dangerously closer, the past you would be cackling mockingly in your face, flashing a large sign in big, red letters reading “I TOLD you so.” 

Whatever. Maybe by this time tomorrow both of you could laugh this all off as a silly little adventure and call yourself somewhat begrudging friends. Maybe you’d even end up unblocking him by the end - on Gmail, at least.

At the very least, dinnertime was a solace - both from your thoughts and the smug bastard talking your ear off about how he could “make that spaghetti better than a thousand Italian grandmothers.”

Until the fourth - and final - night, that is. When the resort, deciding that your current torture wasn’t already enough, arranged a special candlelit dinner. A romantic one. By the beach. With Satoru of all people. 

Great. Wonderful. Perfect, in fact. Going out with a bang. Was this really part of the all-inclusive package? It was like the universe was playing some twisted joke on you - or some awful version of wingmanning. 

You grit your teeth silently as you’re ushered to the beachside table, thoughts barely audible over the waves crashing against the shore and the soft, romantic music drifting from the band nearby. 

The complete opposite of Satoru, who was already seated at the table and enjoying himself far too much for your liking. He lounged back in his chair, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he watched you sit opposite him uncomfortably.

You hated to admit it - but God was he dangerously beautiful in that crisp white button-up, one that you knew was from his overpriced collection for special occasions. You found yourself fighting to avoid the amber hues twinkling in his eyes as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting warm shadows that bring out his pretty features.

Pretty? So frighteningly pretty - until he speaks, that is.

“And here I thought our honeymoon couldn’t get any worse. You’re sweating bullets, sweetheart. This your first date with me or something?”

“We’re not on a honeymoon, Satoru. And no, it just brings back memories.” you scoff. Relishing in the way he inches his chair closer to listen, clearly not expecting this sudden sentimentality. “Memories of why I blocked you on every social media.”

All but slamming his head down on the table, Satoru whines out, “Ouch, straight for the jugular. That mouth is still as bitchy as ever, huh? Though I do prefer it choking on my-”

“I’m going to throw you into the ocean.”

“Ooo, kinky~” he hums, swirling his wine glass, “But you know what this reminds me of? That one time we had dinner under the stars.”

You froze, the memories suddenly flashing back to you despite your best efforts to suppress them. “Oh yeah,” you muse. A chuckle leaving your mouth despite yourself, “Wasn’t that where you spilled ketchup all over your shirt and then insisted it was a fashion statement?”

He leans in closer, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Hey! It worked, didn’t it? I got compliments from everyone including you.”

“I was just trying to stop you from bursting into tears.” you roll your eyes, shaking your head at the memory. 

“Exactly, sweetheart. Like moths to a flame.”

“More like to a bug-zapper.”

Satoru throws his head back and laughs, loud and unabashed. A sound that echoes across the beach and makes something warm and sticky strum at your heartstrings. And at that moment, that stupid, little part of you didn’t even mind that you were at a special candlelit dinner. A romantic one. By the beach. With Satoru of all people. 

And he didn’t even have to goad you into it with SZA this time.

As the orange glow of the setting sun melded into the cool blue of the night, it almost felt like slipping back into an old routine. The food had long since been finished. Jabs and shared memories flowing through the air like the gentle waves lapping at the shore.

The cool air was now thick with contentment and something so unknown yet so familiar that it made your heart race. 

 “I swear.” you groan over Satoru’s loud cackles, “He tried to charm his way out of the bill by flirting with the waitress. In front of me.”

Satoru doubles over, clutching his stomach as he laughs uproariously. “Classic move! If he’s going to be a cheapskate then he should’ve at least been successful with it.”

Damn, was he eternally grateful for these dim candles. Otherwise you’d surely have caught the rosy flushing tinting his cheeks. How dare you sit there so gorgeous and perfect in front of him. Perfect for him - you haven’t changed one bit.

“Right? She looked ready to fling us both out.” You chuckle, eyes catching on the little dimple just at the corner of his mouth as Satoru shoots you a sly grin. “Mhm, I know if it were me I would’ve charmed us out of the bill successfully.”

You raise a brow, retorting, “Oh please. I’ve had the pleasure of being on the receiving end of that ‘charm’. You’d probably end up charming us into washing dishes in the kitchen.” 

Ah, right now, he doesn’t think he wants to be anywhere but here - bickering with you. 

“Ouch, you wound me, woman!” Satoru feigns offense, placing a hand over his heart dramatically before leaning down to whisper, low and conspiratorial, “Besides, I doubt you even remember what pleasure feels like since being with me.”

A thrill goes down your spine as you realize the insinuation of his words, steady and searing - matching that of  Satoru’s fingers on yours - which had snuck their way across the table, lazily tracing patterns along your skin. 

When did they even get there? Sly bastard.

Your mouth drops into a soft oh! at the dangerous glint in his eyes. But you refuse to back down, “Don’t flatter yourself, Satoru. I’ve had other guys make me cum much harder than you have.”

Touch burning. Mapping every curve and dip he’d known so well, and this time - you graze them back. A challenge. God, you missed that warm little flutter in your chest. 

That seems to catch him by surprise, as those darkened blue eyes widen. But there’s a dangerous edge to his grin as he purrs, voice low. “Is that so?” 

And with that, Satoru’s chair is scraping softly against the sand as he stands up, “C’mon, you’re gonna regret that, sweetheart.”

Oh. 

Satoru knows that it’s been 5 months, 4 weeks, and 8 hours since you two lasted an entire dinner civilly - not that he was counting, duh.

So when he begged the resort staff into setting the two of you up on this special candlelit dinner, he was expecting you to drown him in the lobster tank halfway through or at least end the night with a slap. 

What he certainly did not expect was to end dinner with you shoved against the closed door of your suite, legs wrapped impossibly tight around his waist, and lips trailing hot, openmouthed kisses down your neck. He angles your neck, body pressing so impossibly close to yours.

Inwardly, you curse his button-up for being so goddamn thin that you could feel his abs rub against you with every little movement. Toned chest rumbling as he groans at your hands tugging at those soft locks - just a tiny revenge, for your body lotion. 

“S-Satoru,” you whisper, and he breathes it in with an almost-pained sigh - not wanting to part for even a second. Because fuck it took so long to get you back and he wasn’t going to waste a single moment. 

Pulling just a hair’s breadth away, “Tell me what you want. Always knew we’d end up-”

“Just shut up and kiss me, you smug bastard.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

And, well, who was he to deny you? So he does. 

His lips are searing on yours, hasty and greedy. With a tinge of something so painfully familiar. Your hands make their way onto his chest, feeling the thundering heartbeat against your fingertips - matching that of yours. 

Sweet. You tasted so sweet. Just like honey, and all the dreams where he didn’t leave you behind. Where he didn’t get on that damned plane but instead ran to you all the way from the airport like those sappy romcoms you love. 

He licks at the seam of your lips, drinking in your gasps as he intertwines his tongue with yours. Kissing you like he’ll never be able to again. Because, God, knowing his luck - he probably won’t. 

One hand cups your cheek so gently - a tenderness that doesn’t translate to his lips as he kisses you deeper. Meanwhile the other wanders the expanse of your body, leaving a burning trail of fire in their wake.

Satoru parts with a playful nip to your bottom lip - and before you realize what’s happening, the zipper hits the ground. He’s ripping your pretty dress off - mumbling something about “buying a new one” before large hands surge forward, groping and kneading your tits.

His mouth waters at the sight of your bra. Light blue - to match his eyes. “You evil, evil woman.” he mutters into the soft valley of your breasts as you giggle delightedly. Oh, how he couldn’t get enough of you.

And if there was ever a moment that Satoru thinks he could cream his pants right there, then this would be at the very top, followed very closely by the sight of that withering glare you shot after opening that suite door to him just a few days ago.

He unhooks your bra with one hand, throwing it blindly across the room as if it killed him to see you clothed. 

Immediately, Satoru drops to his knees with the desperation of a madman, coming face-to face with the heavenly sight of your clothed cunt, soaking through your thin panties. 

“Didn’t specify where I had to kiss, sweetheart.”

Your gaze pierces through him, as it always did. “What are you-” Your words get choked up in your throat as his tongue darts out. Licking a long, languid stripe over your clothed cunt. 

“Shit. So sweet f’me, jus’ like I remember. Just one taste and I feel like m’gonna cum in my pants.” Satoru groans, urgently sliding your wet panties down your quivering legs. 

“F-flattery won’t work.” you stammer out as his hot breath fans your quivering entrance as he waits just a second - one, two.

Drinking in the view of your pretty pussy with dazed, half-lidded eyes. Wet - so wet, he almost wants to tease you - just a bit, to see if you’ll get even wetter. Ah, he doesn’t have enough time to take in this view - probably never will. Would it ruin the mood if he took a picture?

“Oh, I’d say it worked pretty well.”

Cock twitching carnally, Satoru needed to taste you now. He immediately surges forward. Breathing you in so sinfully, pooling your juices on his tongue. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he tips his head back back back to let it slide down his throat. 

Shit, if you were the forbidden fruit then he would gladly be cast out of the garden of Eden. 

Half-delirious thoughts running through his mind, Satoru flattens his tongue across your swollen folds. Leisurely sliding between them, catching on your throbbing clit up and down up and down up and-

“Oh- hngh, Satoru faster-”

“So bossy.” he hums prettily around your swollen clit, the vibrations stimulating it just right. But of course, what his girl wants, she will get. 

Lewd squelches and your mewls of his name ring in the heady room as he speeds up his ministrations. Rolling his tongue harshly along your clit, sucking so sensually. Licking at your sweet cunt, dipping just into your sloppy hole. 

You almost miss the long fingers that deftly slide their way up your thigh, spreading your folds with his thumbs. A low groan sounds at the back of his throat as your walls flutter so sinfully around nothing - aching for more friction. 

Urgently, Satoru bullies his fingers past your folds, sinking deep into your plushy walls as his tongue continues its abuse. So warm and wet around him. Curling his fingers just right.

“Ah- fuck, Satoru- Feels s’good.” you gasp as he starts thrusting his fingers back and forth. A ruthless pace that has tears stinging your eyes, hitting that spot over and over and-

“Oh yeah? Thought you didn’t like my ‘big mouth’?” he purrs, muffled around your clit, “Look at you, sweetheart, now falling apart cos’ of it.”

You scoff, fingers tangling in his silky hair, pushing him deeper into your dripping pussy - mostly because you needed it, but somewhat because you really needed him to shut up. “Yeah, I like it better when you shut the fuck up.”

And with a dark chuckle, his mouth is back on your cunt. Your slick glossy and dripping down the corner of his mouth as he alternates between sucking unforgivingly on your ravaged clit and fucking into you at the same time as his fingers. 

And in the delicious stretch of your cunt, you barely register the metallic clinking of a belt before Satoru presses his clothed erection into you.

Shit. You clench so obscenely around his tongue at the feeling of his clothed, painfully hard and throbbing against your leg. Fuck - as big as you remember. You weren’t gonna be able to walk for a while.

“You like this, huh?” he murmurs, speeding up the rhythm of his fingers. Vibrations sending white-hot jolts of pleasure down your spine.

Cracking an eye open you risk a glance downward. Greedily eyeing the hand wrapped tightly around the base, moving up up up. Pumping in small, jerky movements at the same pace of his fingers fucking into you. “Like the way m’getting off to tonguefucking my girl?”

“Like thinking about how this is what I thought about all those lonely fucking night without you?” You arch into his touch, fingers searing on his scalp and angling Satoru just right to make your knees weak. 

He’s so close that you can feel the precum smearing onto your leg. Mouth fucking you in a way you knew he wanted to with his cock right now. Rough and unrelenting. 

“Like thinking about how you’re all I can fucking think about.”

“Hngh- Yes, Satoru! Yes-” 

You see stars as you cum - or maybe those were the tears in your eyes. Pulling Satoru impossibly closer to your quivering pussy so that you could ride out your high on his pretty face. And he readily accepts it - letting himself be handled roughly with the conviction of a man that wouldn’t mind dying if it was suffocating in-between your pretty thighs. 

Your vision is hazy, blood still roaring in your ears as Satoru stands up. Not even bothering to wipe away the wet trail of your slick prettily glossing his lips before capturing yours in a searing kiss. 

“Y’know, sweetheart,” he gasps in between heated kisses. “We got a king-sized bed so we better make use of it, hm?”

Your back hits the mattress before you can even react. Reeling from shock and the audacity as you bounce at the sheer force of his throw. 

“Next time you do that you’re-” 

Whatever insult at the tip of your tongue melts away immediately at the purely pornographic sight of Satoru stalking his way towards you from the foot of the bed. Eyes hooded, cock rock-hard, kiss-bitten lips parted slightly in a way that was so fucked-out.

Unhurriedly approaching you with such a predatory glint in his darkened eyes as he fucks his fist slowly - so agonizingly slowly. Eyes locked on you.

Despite cumming not even minutes before, your pussy jumps in anticipation. Immediately reaching over as soon as he’s close enough - as if in a trance - to replace his hand with yours. 

He was big - so mouthwateringly big. Flushed your favorite shade of pink at his leaking tip, pulsing veins glistening in the dim light - every part of Satoru was so unfairly pretty.

So hot and heavy in your hand as you pump him at a steady, methodical pace. Precum smearing on your palm, trailing down your wrist as you pump. Tighter on the base, thumbing teasingly under his slit the way you knew he used to like. 

“Oh fuck, sweetheart. Still remember, huh?” he hisses lowly. Ah, the way he still likes. 

“Mhm.” you hum absentmindedly, thighs clenching together at the way his hips grind in shallow, mindless little motions into your soft hand. Meeting your strokes as if trying to fuck something so delicious out of him.

And, well, you just couldn’t resist a taste. Bending down in one, fluid motion to delicately lick at his angry, hard head. Slightly salty taste on your tongue as you swipe at the droplets of precum pooling on his tip. Tracing lightly - ever-so-lightly - down his prominent veins. 

Satoru groans, low and hoarse with desire, “Shit, hah- you don’ ngh- have to-”

“Shut up, Satoru.” 

And with that, you’re shoving down as much as you can of his throbbing erection down your throat. Cunt clenching at the way he hardens impossibly as you choke and gag around him.

“Shit, oh- Oh fuck, m’girl. Yes yes yes-.” Satoru lets out a guttural moan. Fingers threading through your hair as he uses it as leverage to fuck himself slowly, deeper and deeper into your heavenly mouth. Hips stuttering and jerky with pleasure. Yeah, he definitely missed this. 

Half-delirious and cock-drunk, you take him all the way till your nose was buried in the tufts of white at his toned pelvis, already so wet with saliva and precum. 

Still got it, some smug, utterly debauched part of yourself titters. 

It was dizzying, the way he was pulsing in your throat, his heady scent filling your senses. Beginning to move up and down up and down in hasty, desperate bobs of your head. Pulling such lewd gasps and moans from his lips. 

You moan around Satoru’s thick cock, clawing at his toned hips for some semblance of stability. Some truly animalistic part of yourself relishing in the neat, red lines down his milky skin. The sight hazy through the tears that spring to your eyes at the way his fat tip hits your abused throat. A relentless, sinful tempo you were steadily losing your mind to.

Messy.  It was so fucking messy.

You just wondered if his orgasm would be the same…

But, alas, one can’t always get what they want. Because Satoru pulls you off of his achingly hard cock with a lewd pop! that rings in his ears and makes your cunt twitch. 

“Shit, sweetheart. Any longer and I’ll have to start thinking about ol’ Prof. Gakuganji to not cum.” he pants through ragged breaths, flashing you a deceptively innocent grin. “Now, lay back and spread ‘em f’me and let me see if your pretty pussy can still handle me.”

And that you don’t argue with. 

It’s almost embarrassing - the way you scramble desperately to sink back into the mattress. Letting Satoru manhandle your legs open so shamefully for him, throwing them over his muscled shoulders. But that’s a problem for the future, not lust-drunk you. 

Right now you couldn’t give less of a fuck as his hungry gaze locks on your glistening pussy. Pausing for just a split-second before spitting once. Twice. Thrice onto your waiting cunt. Making you feel more and more like an object as the warm saliva mixes obscenely with your slick, trickling down to form such a sinful pool on the sheets below. 

And you liked it.

Almost as much as you loved the way Satoru drags his tip along your swollen folds, catching so maddeningly on your clit. Teasingly pooling your slick on his leaking head. It was so sloppy. And too slow. 

“Satoru, I’ve waited five months too long for this. If you’re going to fuck me then fuck me like you mean it.” you grit out, frustration and pure need boiling over within you. 

“Oh? So it’s like that, huh?” 

And maybe you were a mastermind, maybe you were an idiot - probably both. Because Satoru immediately pushes in one, long thrust into your dripping cunt. Your words catch pathetically in your throat as he loses grip on whatever semblance of restraint he had - or his sanity - whichever one would break you first. 

Fuck, it feels so heavenly. Oh, how you missed him.

Bowing his body down down down till his damp forehead met yours. Folding you completely underneath him in the way you’ve found that only the smug bastard, Gojo Satoru can. 

You could almost sob at the stretch as he presses in - deliciously painful, borderline insane, and exactly what you’d been trying to deny that you’d been craving all these past five months. Being split apart on his throbbing cock, feeling like you were about to be absolutely devoured underneath him. 

It seems Satoru was just as needy for you, hot and throbbing agonizingly inside you, each little bump bump bump against your walls matching that of your heart thundering against your chest. 

Or was that Satoru’s? At this point you couldn’t even tell. 

“Oh, god yes-, jus’ like that ah shit shit shit-”

“This what you wanted, yeah?” A low growl leaves his throat at how sinfully your walls were milking him as he pulls back. All the way till his leaking tip was just innocently kissing your sloppy hole - only to ram his cock all the way back into your snug cunt. “To be split apart on my cock?” 

Shit, he could just about pass out right now with the way your cunt was sucking him in so greedily like she never wanted to part. 

Guess she missed him too, he thinks deliriously. Not even having to think about it as he starts fucking into you in shallow, mindless little thrusts. Pushing himself deeper and deeper into your plushy cunt. 

“Äh- fuck, yeah. S’all I’ve wanted.” you mewl, feeling so vulnerable and exposed under the hungry eyes boring into yours. A dark gleam in them as he grins, “Then take it back.”

Disoriented, you gasp out a strangled, “What?” before Satoru’s hips become rougher, chasing his high as much as yours. 

“What you said at dinner.” your lips fall into a soft oh! as you realize just what he’s talking about, “Admit that no man makes you cum as hard as I do.”

God, you don’t think you could answer even if you wanted to, choking on the harsh, purposeful movements of his hips just to fuck your soul out. 

Heavy balls stinging your skin, the lewd sounds of skin-on-skin fills the heady air. Driving you to insanity. An absolutely unforgiving cadence that has the bed creaking in protest. Ah, whatever, he could buy them a new one anyway if this one just so happens to break.

“Take it back yet?” He had to break you first though.

Slick gushes out of your heated cunt, dripping down his length and pooling at his heavy balls, stinging your ass at each merciless thrust. “No.” 

A large hand hastily makes its way down to draw rough, frenzied little circles on your throbbing clit. Voice strangled, sweat beading on his forehead, thrusts becoming increasingly sloppier. “How about now?”

“Ah- hngh- oh fuck. Satoru!” You could only moan softly in response, broken whimpers leaving you each time his tip kissed your cervix. Angling his hips just right to expertly brush against that one spot he knew so well would have you keening and bucking up into his cock. Your face almost burns at the sheer familiarity of it all. This bastard knew you too well. 

And something about that made such an uncomfortable, prickly feeling pool in your stomach. 

Something which you knew would only be sated if you looped your arms around his neck. Nails digging into his sculpted back as you pulled him impossibly closer.

Kissing his flushed cheeks as he murmurs, “Take it back, sweetheart.”

Despite the thick cock splitting you in half till you probably couldn’t walk tomorrow morning, you find it in yourself to huff out a soft laugh at the way Satoru’s tone teetered on just that endearing side of sulky. “Fine. You win, Toru.” you whisper into his lips,

And then you’re cumming. White-hot pleasure flashing behind your eyes and Satoru’s lips gently slotting against yours as he fucked you through your high. Acting as if the fucked-out whimper of his nickname is one he’ll never forget. 

As if he couldn’t cum simply from hearing it leave your pretty lips. And he does, shooting thick, hot ropes of cum painting your plushy walls white with a raw groan of your name. It oozes out of your cunt and onto the mess of sheets below as he fucks his seed into you as a lover would. As he would. 

It was intoxicating - everything from the way you milked his cock so sinfully, to the arms tight around his shoulders. Pulling him close, running soothingly along his skin as Satoru collapses onto you with a final, fucked-out thrust. 

And despite being a lightweight, Satoru’s never been so easily drunk off of something than he was off of you. God how he missed this - how he missed you. 

So much so that he can’t put it into words - and probably won’t ever be able to. But it’s alright, because your sticky body snug against his, and Satoru arms tenderly around your waist - but you didn’t mind. Both of you understood.

Satoru traces his fingers lazily along your side, neither of you bothering to tackle the mammoth task of cleaning up for now. Each movement slow and gentle, as if any sudden movement might shatter the delicate balance between you. 

All is quiet in your little haven, and you could almost fall asleep. The most contented one you’ve had in a while - 5 months, 3 weeks, and 7 hours ago to be exact.

But, of course, Satoru can’t keep his mouth shut for nothing. You jolt out of your reverie as he hastily tries to stifle the startled laugh that huffs out of him. Your dazed eyes meet his in the dim lighting, raising a brow in question.

“It’s just…” he starts, voice soft, “You still call me Toru. Feels like home.”

Ah.

You find yourself chuckling softly with him. Heat rushing to your cheeks, burying yourself deeper into his warm chest, to hide the embarrassingly flustered smile breaking out across your face if anything. 

Chuckling, Satoru shifts closer, touch now feather-light against your cheek, tracing the line of your jaw with his fingertips. Faltering ever-so-slightly as you mutter out, “Happy anniversary, by the way. I didn’t say it earlier because someone was being a public menace.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault that someone locked me out of my own honeymoon suite.” he laughs, drinking in your pretty lil’ smile. 

Ah, you were perfect. As you always were. Satoru can’t help but utter out a little, “Hey, if I tell you something absolutely stupid, would you promise not to make me fish food?”

“Absolutely not.”

He knew you’d say that. So he flashes you an easy grin, a hint of nervousness in it that he’s sure you see through - you always do. 

“So…” he begins, “First thing’s first, I’m thinking of expanding my father’s company further overseas and it might just so happen that I’m leading the branch development and get to pick where exactly.”

God, you made him feel like such a teenager. At your stunned silence, Satoru could barely raise his eyes to meet yours as he plows on, stumbling so uncharacteristically over his words, “You, I picked where you are.”

You’re breathless, words barely audible as his sinks in. “What? Toru that’s-”

“And don’t be mad but you kinda sorta didn’t-win-the-raffle-so-instead-I-planned-this-getaway-when-we-were-together.”

Any and every trace of breathless euphoria leaves your tone as you narrow your eyes at the very guilty Satoru beside you. Fidgeting under your intense scrutiny. Finally - after what seems like an eternity - you find your senses after his whiplash-inducing information dump. 

A hand immediately shoots out to squeeze his side, right where you knew he was dangerously ticklish.

“You sneaky little-” you scold over his laughed out yells of, “Mercy! No murder on our honeymoon!” squirming helplessly beneath you.

“I can’t believe you let me chug all that ice cream.”

“Exactly- hah- help! You w-would’ve been so sad that you ah- didn’t win.” he manages to choke out under your attack.

Finally relenting, only once you’re sure he’ll be feeling the burn of laughter until your flight tomorrow, you release him from your grasp. A satisfied smirk playing on your lips as you lean in close. “You’re lucky I still love you, you smug bastard” you deadpan.

“Aww, you beat me to it.” Satoru whines. Yet he reaches out to cup your cheek, “And I love you,” words hanging in the air like a promise. “With every fiber of my being.”

You let yourself be begrudgingly pulled into his embrace again, hands caressing along your skin like the highest form of worship. Satoru sighs out a contented, “Best honeymoon ever.” 

But of course, you couldn’t help but bully your idiotic boyfriend. “This is not a honeymoon, Toru.” you mutter into his heated skin.

He only presses you closer to him. Yeah maybe not, fingers deftly dancing along your left hand. But maybe next time. 

“Wanna watch the stars and tell me all about that branch development?”

“Of course, sweetheart, but first can you at least unblock me on Gmail now?”

“...”

You broke up with Gojo Satoru exactly 5 months, 3 weeks, and 12 hours ago. And as for how long it’s been since he won you back - well, you think it might just be one of the few things you didn’t keep count of.

A/N. Based on my vacay at Lily Beach except I didn’t meet my future husband there :0

Plagiarism not authorized.

[dmitriene]

cw: selling reader to close the debt, groping, kidnapping, dubcon, thoughts of impregnating.

being sold to outlaw könig, just so your daddy would be able to pay his debt to him, and since he had nothing but you, your dad got together to sell your pretty face to this terrible brute of a man, and your life was over about the moment when he brazenly picked you up in his arms and carried you to his horse with a satisfied squint of blue eyes.

you didn't understand why you had to answer for your father's debts, and even though könig ain't tried to harm you, he didn't react to the thick tears running down your cheeks and chin all the road that you were pressed against his chest, whimpering as he roughly squeezed at the softness of your body over your dress, cruel chuckle slipping from beneath the hood at his face.

könig didn't resell you to any other people, ain't even made a slave out of you, he gave you a clean, spacious room that belonged only to you in a house that wasn't bad, clean, looking like he didn't even live there, but instead of thanking him with your innocent eyes and chirping words, you had to run away from him, not knowing what awaits you.

the lingering perverse of his calloused touch on your body everytime he could grope you over your dress, nuzzle his face in your neck even through your shrieks and small kicks of your fists against his muscular chest, könig likes seeing you pick up a fight like a feisty kitten, not knowing that he's a predator there, and you're bounded to be with him.

to wipe puddles of blood on the floor almost everytime he comes back home by the night, stumbling through the doorway, to let him seat you on his beefy lap and press his face in your shoulder, palming at your body through almost translucent fabric of your nightie, doing a little job of hiding the softness of your curves, making his heavy, fattened erection poke in the swell of your ass.

but you wouldn't claw at him if he'd bury his thick cock in your weepy pussy, you can mewl that it's disgusting and he's gross all you want, while bouncing prettily on his fat cock, letting the ridge of his cockhead prod at the sweet, virgin spot in your cunt, your hole pulsing and oozing syrupy slick at every hump of his hips, hands holding onto his huge shoulders, as his rough palms swallow the fat of your asscheeks.

you should be grateful he kept you alive, hübsches lamm, and perhaps if he'll cream your pussy with his thick seed, sending you to sleep in your room with cum soaked panties, you'll be more docile, acting like you never been sold to könig, but belonged to him from the start.

his sweet little wifey, the one he would knock up as soon as possible, and then, you will be tied to him.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[smugraccoon137]

You know not to be like a dick but I hate December. November too while I'm at it. The holidays as a whole are garbage times of the year.

The poor and the hungry and the roofless beg on every street corner.

And people struggle to scrape together enough change for presents. So that their tots don't know that they're parents are actually struggling. And that rents due right after christmas.

Every TV in every store in American is playing the same movie. The family is happy, the kids are fed, and the only thing they can think to wish for is snow on Christmas eve.

All while the people watching this movie beg the cold to stay awat. Because how are they gonna afford that electric bill?

Every year I watch people sink into sorrow as that picture perfect happy Christmas family makes them wonder. What did they do wrong? Why can't I take care of my family?

I just don't understand what everyone's so goddamn cheerful about

[evilgwrl]

Simon Riley x Reader

Can You Ride?

Summary: Simon can’t wait to get home

CW (MDNI): Established relationship, car sex, riding, unprotected PIV, messy, fingering, squirting, praise, lovey dovey sex, semi-public sex?

Word Count: 1,477

Masterlist

Your fingers interlocked with Simon’s, smile adorned across your face as he led you back to the car. “Y’ enjoy lunch?” He said, voice naturally gruff as he squeezed your hand.

“Mhm, was good. Did you?”

He mumbled a ‘yeah’ as he opened the door for you, the hem of your dress riding up slightly, his gaze fixated on the exposure of your plush thigh. He coughed as he walked to the driver’s side.

It was a decent drive, around 45 minutes as Simon’s fingers fumbled with the CarPlay before you shushed him away and jabbed in your address.

“I had it,” he said, eyes darting to you as you laughed.

“I’m sure you did, baby.”

His hand fell on your thigh, thumb rubbing it soothingly as you stroked up his exposed arm, gently scratching with your nails. He liked that.

You were both quiet, but it was never awkward. You knew that Simon wasn’t a massive talker, and you were both secure and comfortable enough to know that you didn’t need to talk 24/7, even if you were together.

You pulled down a long road, trees aligned on both sides, minimal cars zapping across the other way as Simon’s eyes occasionally darted down to your exposed skin. He felt himself chub up slightly.

Did you wear a sundress on purpose? You know how he felt about them.

His fingers itched for more, trailing up your leg slightly, and if you realised, you didn’t show it. His touch got more wanting, burning up your thigh as it slipped under your dress. You looked at him, eyebrow cocked as he shrugged, yet didn’t hesitate to spread your thighs, an appreciative hum passing his lips.

Being around your boyfriend was difficult. Everything about him turned you on. His height, his build, his muscles, his tattoos, when he wore his mask, when he didn’t, him being in the military and a Lieutenant and that. It was all too much, so it wasn’t a surprise to him when he finally reached your panty-clad pussy, that there was a damp spot.

He let out a huff off a laugh, his eyes not leaving the road as another hand pushed your undies to the side, pussy now exposed as you lifted your legs up, spreading them. It was taboo, if a truck drove past you they would know what was going on but you think Simon liked that, knowing someone was watching how he was making you feel and only him.

You gasped, clutching his hand as you felt a rough finger pinch your clit before teasingly rubbing it in slow, small circles. Long middle finger dipped into your slit, running through your folds as he turned to you, cocky smile on his face as he felt your wetness.

You rolled your eyes at him before stuttering out a moan as a finger plunged in, massaging the gooey walls of your sex as soft pants fell from your lips.

His strokes were painfully slow, almost like he wanted you to break and tell him to hurry the fuck up. You gasped at the fullness when another finger breached your entrance, slowly pushing in as he somehow managed to focus on the tangling depths of the tar.

“S-stop teasing me,” you gasped out, breath jammed in your throat as he let out a laugh before his fingers began to work up their speed, hitting your spots deliciously as you moaned.

Your own finger came down to toy with your clit as you noticed his eyes flicker down to it, a groan leaving his lips.

“Eyes on the road,” you teased as he shot you a dirty look.

Your breathing sped up, his fingers pumping in and out of you at the perfect pace, your walls contracting to the thick digits and squelching appreciatively at the sensation that was building.

It never took Simon long to make you cum but every time still took you by surprise. You could feel the slow build up beginning as you stuttered out a moan, your own finger rubbing desperately against your hardened bud as you dug your nails into his arm, hard enough to leave crescent shaped marks but not hard enough to draw blood.

You were a moaning mess as you gushed around his fingers, juices spluttering across his hand and onto the leather seat in-front of you as you whined at the sensation.

“Jesus Christ,” Simon practically growled before he was pulling down a dodgy side road, dirt grumbling against the tires.

You looked at him as he lowered his seat down, veiny hands instantly tugging off his belt as he shoved his pants down to his ankles, cock leaking precum as it slapped against his stomach, a soft trail of hair leading down to his heavy set of balls.

“Get on,” he grunted as you looked at him, before you were ducking down to avoid hitting the ceiling. Car sex was difficult with Simon, his massive thighs barely giving you any room but somehow you managed, wedging your own next to his as he held the base of his cock upwards.

No matter how many times you guys had sex, it always took you a minute to grow accustomed to his cock, the sheer girth and length stretching you to the max.

You straddled his lap, tits flush against his face as he pulled the straps of your dress down, tongue flicking out to wrap his laps around a puckered nipple whilst you lowered yourself down his length slowly, hands reaching out to grab at his massive shoulders.

He watched your face scrunch up, both in pleasure and pain as you slid slowly down him.

“That’s it baby, you can take it,” he encouraged, rubbing a small circle on your back as you whined at the fullness, his cock still not all the way in.

He pushed up slightly, bottoming out in side you as you let out a pornographic moan, his hands reaching out to grope at your tits while you sat there, growing comfortable with the staggering girth inside you.

You began to move, hips raising slightly before lowering, growing your confidence as he continued rubbing your back, mouth sucking at your chest like he was starving.

“Good girl, hm? Taking me so well.”

His words were like a fire inside you, taking over your entire body and setting it alight as your hips began to move faster, his cock disappearing and reappearing as your pussy swallowed it with each thrust.

The squelches and the slaps of your sex were obscene, the windows beginning to fog as Simon began to meet your thrusts, hitting against your g-spot as you cried out, wobbly legs barely able to take him as you tried to keep up with his demanding jabs inside you.

“Fuck,” you swore, “I love you, Simon.” Your hands planted on his cheeks, foreheads merged together as you matched each other’s pace.

“I love you,” he grunted, his hand pulling on the back of your neck into him as you kissed. There was no tongue, just gentle touches between your lips, savouring every breath you both shared, your bodies becoming one, being as close as you could possibly ever be to another person.

Your thrusts became more lazy, your stomach spiralling again into a bundle of blistering nerves ready to pop.

“I’m gonna- gonna cum, Si.”

“Me too, angel,” he panted, voice thick with both lust and love as you held onto him, your skin slapping against each other, his hands grabbing at every part of you before you staggered your movements, a loud moan passing your lips as your pussy convulsed, squeezing and throbbing around his length as you orgasmed, the muscles in your legs throbbing as they vibrated against his owns.

His pace became sloppy before he let out a guttural groan, hot pumps of semen seeping into your exhausted cunt, the remainder of your orgasm milking his length as you both moaned in unison.

You slumped against him, body sweaty as he kissed your forehead, whispering praises in your ear as he rubbed your back. Your legs wobbled as you tried to sit up, his hands reaching out to grope your tits once more before pulling your straps back up.

He placed a gentle kiss on your lips as you craned your neck to the side, laughing at the fogged up windows before his index finger reached out, drawing half a heart before you copied him, connecting the two.

He gave you a pat on the ass as he helped adjust you back to your seat, digging in the compartment for some wet wipes before gently wiping you and the seat down and placing it in the tiny bin he kept on the side of the door.

“You okay?” He whispered, holding your hand.

“I’m perfect baby. Let’s go home.”