#it's because he does. in fact. like transformers

[meanbossart]

Jacked anon again (jeez I guess this is my legacy on your blog now lmao), I tend to forget how ripped he technically is in game, but that's because I tend to ignore that. Bro has a default strength stat of 8, which means a -1 to strength checks and strength based stats, so I tend to attribute his in game model's defined abs and tits to a few things: 1) not much variation to the game's body models, and 2) bro was starving for years, and so any muscle he did build up, whether for aesthetics purposes to lure in victims for Cazador or working out our of boredom or whatever the hell you want to say it was, were especially noticeable due to the fact that he was starving. Kind of like Hollywood movie stars being severely dehydrated so their abs are super noticeable.

So I personally don't see him as being super buff due to the combination of those things. Not to say he shouldn't have any muscle whatsoever, I just tend to forget that not everyone interprets things in the same way haha. To me, Astarion would be on the thinner side if there was more variation in BG3's body models. I also don't tend to see people drawing Astarion as buff as you do (nothing wrong with that at all btw, I love men with tits) and the fact that in your lore he's a Rogue/Fighter multiclass, it's definitely fitting and fun to see a different interpretation of him. Does that make sense? I hope that makes sense lmao. All this to say, I love how you draw him. There's no right or wrong way to draw a character (for the most part, nuance exists) and I enjoy seeing the different ways people draw him!

LOL, there are worse things to be than "the Jacked Anon", at least. Thanks for playing along!

At some point in my life I heard from a DM that stats should not necessarily be a factor in how a person designs & roleplays a character; and I really like that! Otherwise, I could see how characters within x or y mono class could all turn out a little too similar, so that's usually the assumption I operate under - though like you said, it's all up to preference, and at the end of the day I do still like to point and laugh whenever a low CHAR character sticks their elbow into their pint while flirting at the inn.

For me, I take the character's body types pretty much as they are save for some small changes I would make if it were up to my preference - but they wouldn't really affect their silhouette overall. Here are my personal justifications for everyone's vacuum sealed six-packs, plus what I would tweak if I had the chance:

Astarion: He was very fit when he died, and his body retains that state as long as he's well fed. I personally like to make him even more pale than he appears in-game and emphasize the tired eyes.

Gale: Using a charm to improve his appearance. I wouldn't change anything per-se, but I would have made it that at some point throughout the game he stops using illusion magic on himself and reveals a paler, older-looking man whose whole half of his body is rotting off.

Karlach: Just beef her up, to be honest. I also would have liked her outfit to resemble some type of rugged uniform to solidify the mercenary/wardog aspect of her story.

Lae'zel: She's perfect, LOL. But I wouldn't scoff at unique gith armor for her and perhaps a shorter haircut.

Shadowheart: A more, erm, subtle armor set would have been nice, and I think they could have pushed a more wild/messy look with the hair and makeup like we see in the concept art. it would have made her far more unique and served as a really neat visual foreshadow of her incident from childhood/father's lycantropy. I especially like the ones where her hair almost completely covers her eyes.

Wyll: I mostly think that his transformation into a devil could have been far more dramatic, but I also believe a large body type would have suited him more and made for a nice contrast with his gentle nature.

[ghostiepines]

Sentinel Prime from Transformers Animated is so interesting once you start to click in that like BlackArachnia and Optimus he’s also like, really traumatized from Archa-7. Like yes, he’s an asshole but a bunch of his issues link back to this moment. His Xenophobia and germophobia that cause him to assume every single organic is dangerous and aggressive until very much proven otherwise? It’s because Archa-7 didn’t have much information on it outside the details on the wreckage and then was revealed to be filled with aggressive local fauna that he likely assumes to have killed Elita-1 if the explosion didn’t get her. His beef with Optimus? Optimus pushed them to leave (so they wouldn’t die too) but that meant leaving behind not only the chance of finding Elita alive but also the chance of finding her body.

We can also argue that Optimus choosing to take the blame for the incident as a whole caused some problems because Sentinel knows he’s at fault, but also he’s majorly defensive and Optimus doing this accidentally has given Sentinel the perfect way to shove down and repress his guilt.

There’s also the fact that Optimus also doesn’t tell Sentinel about BA, likely because he’s trying to help them both (and keep her existence secret from the Autobots in case they do target her like she fears)—but this backfires spectacularly in Predacons Rising because Sentinel all at once encounters the information that not only did Elita survive and mutate into something that to him at very least resembles the creatures that attacked them, but also she converted to the Decepticons and appears to be doing unethical experiments—like considering his character, it’s no wonder he said what he did. After all, I’d bet he was likely going through the same stuff Optimus was in Along Came A Spider. It’s obviously what he says is horrible, but also with everything happening, and who Sentinel is? (And we do know this encounter eats at him, the way we focus on his expression as he walks off, and the fact that this episode resolves with Optimus choosing to speak to Sentinel alone and apologize to him? GODDD)

All and all, I LOVE the fact that his trauma responses are messy, because it feels very accurate to his character. Optimus is a character who’s open to change (and someone who does research—as we see him watching old history reels at the start of the show) but comparing him against BA (was accepted by the decepticons likely for her usefulness while still being considered a freak and likely isolated, both which aren’t going to help her view of herself and her new form) and Sentinel (likely hasn’t encountered another organic species since Archa-7 until arriving on Earth and hasn’t had anything to force him to confront his emotions about Archa and Elita) it’s one of the things that make him a great foil to Optimus. Optimus has been given more room to grow and wants to grow, but Sentinel doesn’t quite have much of either of those things.

Honestly I could probably also write a whole thing about Sentinel and Optimus’ on and off friendship and rivalry, especially regarding stuff like Ultra Magnus’ choice to give Optimus a ship (and thus make Optimus a prime anyway despite him being kicked from the academy due to his choice to take the fall for Sentinel) and the whole side plot that was in the plans for TFA season 4 where Optimus and Sentinel were going clashing over being Magnus. Because their dynamic (even outside of Senop!) is so fascinating.

[discordiansamba]

things are awkward between rin and yukio for awhile after that. rin gives him his space, even though it kind of hurts. he can't exactly blame him, you know! the person he thought was his twin brother turned out to be a stranger that wasn't even human.

suguro thinks about the whole affair for one night and then just goes back to treating rin like normal. but not before grabbing him by the shoulder and telling him that if he has any MORE secrets he's hiding, now's the time to spill.

rin: nope, that's all of them!

izumo just shrugs it off. whatever. she treats uke and mike like family, so rin's not that weird in the grand scheme of things. but you really seriously ought to consider telling shiemi this already, you know. you can't keep her in the dark forever!

rin knows she's right. it's just... you know? what if shiemi decides she doesn't like him anymore? being a phantom thief with a curse is one thing, but not even being human? he's not even a living thing. he couldn't blame her if she was disgusted with him.

shiro sits his kids down for a lecture as soon as they work things out between them. so? what's all this phantom thief business?

rin: huh!? t-that's not us!

shiro, nodding to himself. hm. and? can you tell me about the fact that you're dating shiemi now, speaking of new developments?

(rin gets so flustered he transforms)

rin: ....whoops.

(yukio just sighs)

shiro's actually not mad. he understands their logic when they explain themselves to him. he was the one who had left without saying anything, so he can't blame them for looking into the matter themselves. and he's proud of them, in a way. it started with a search for answers, but eventually they kept doing it because they couldn't leave the situation alone.

from now on he'll be helping them, though. your old man has a few tricks up his sleeve from his days as a former con artist!

rin & yukio: ...WHAT.

shiro: that's how your mom and I met! :)

despite having egin blood in him, yukio still has zero artistic talent. the legacy of the egin family seems to be drawing to its conclusion.

rin, before he got his memories back: hmm. why do i feel a weird sense of kinship with these possessed pieces of art?

rin, after getting them back: ...oh. right.

izumo, who originally misunderstood the situation as rin being possessed by rinka: ...HEY WAIT A SECOND.

everyone freaks out after rin gets knocked off the roof of a building during a heist but he just sits up. he's completely fine. this isn't my real body, you know. i can't actually get hurt.

shima: so if you're a sword, does that mean anyone who wields you gains an instant knowledge of swordsmanship or something?

rin: huh? why? you read too much manga, shima.

shima: i don't want to be told that by a living sword.

rin: besides, i wouldn't want anyone to wield me in the first place! it's embarrassing!

shima: you say that, but what if shiemi-

(rin makes an incomprehensible noise, turns beat red and transforms into rinka. rinka is just. lol. lmao. he ran away from the conversation.)

shima asking rin if he can grow blades out of his arms or something since he's a sword. rin just gives him a blank look. he's never thought about it before. *can* he?

(he can)

100% there's an occasion in which shiemi gets princess carried by rinka because she ends up in the wrong place at the wrong time in the middle of a heist. her grandmother owns several of the largest museums in town.

rin staring at his coolness ranking. rinka woke up in the middle of the night and put himself on the top of the list. that fucker.

shiro only takes his eyes off yukio for a minute.

but a minute is long enough, apparently. he hears a loud crash and the sound of yukio crying. he drops what he's doing and dashes over to see what happened. the first thing he notices is the overturned end table, its contents spilled out across the floor.

the second thing he notices is that yukio isn't alone.

there's another boy with him, lightly stroking his head as he cries, just like shiro has done a million times. the child looks to be around yukio's age, with messy black hair and blue eyes that are a too familiar color, even as it takes shiro a long moment to place where he's seen it before- until it clicks.

they're the color of kurikara's sheath.

"this is a special work of art," yuri had told him with a smile, "-it will protect yukio even after i'm gone. treat him nicely, shiro."

he'd known for a long time about the mysterious gift yuri had for art- the way she could breathe life into her creations in a way no other artist could. it was the family gift, as much as it was their curse- but even so, he'd never known quite what yuri had meant until this very moment.

this boy was kurikara.

"he's crying."

"...yes, I can see that," shiro says a little dumbly, even as he scoops yukio up and checks him over for injuries. he isn't hurt, thankfully. probably just startled. kurikara stands up and picks up the end table without a word, putting everything back where it belongs- as if he already knew.

he supposes he does. he's been watching over them for three years now. he holds shiro's gaze for a moment longer, and then disappears- but it's not the last time he sees him. for the next year or so, kurikara flits in and out of yukio's life, carrying him home when he scrapes his knee or just sitting next to him on the couch as he watches television.

yukio is young enough that he doesn't really question it.

("you need a name," he tells kurikara once.

"i have a name," kurikara replies.

shiro rubs the back of his head. "sure, but I can't tell our neighbors your name is kurikara."

kurikara doesn't say anything in reply. he doesn't talk much. if yuri were here, she would probably say that he doesn't have a heart yet. he never really understood how any of that stuff worked, frankly.

"...what about rin?"

kurikara doesn't look at him, just humming in response. shiro shrugs. that's probably as much of a reply as he'll get, but it's not a no. he ruffles kuri- rin's hair, the same way he would do to yukio. the boy is asleep at the moment, his head in rin's lap.

"okay," shiro smiles, "-you're okumura rin from now on.")

[cobra-creampuff]

fresh new headcanon from reading too much into the prop placement shown in this post:

jamie collects action figures and toy weapons

[peace-hunter]

tfone au where OP is created as the last of the primes but way after them, a sparkling born at what were thought to be the last days of the war against the quintessons, the beginning of a new generation of peace after eons of war. a child meant to be loved and raised knowing nothing of war nor sacrifice.

he's kept mostly out of the spotlight by his siblings, who don't wish to expose him to everyone's optics so young, and want to wait until the war is done and over to properly introduce him to their people.

except of course the primes are betrayed and murdered by sentinel, the war is lost and everyone who knows and cared for the truth is either banished or outright killed in order to suppress it.

and the high guard, the ones the primes trusted the most, the ones that were supposed to protect them, the ones who failed in their most important duty, have to make a choice. to take the last prime, their last hope, with them to the surface, a hostile environment where there's little to no supplies and where they'll be hunted down by both sentinel and the quintessons as the biggest threat to their regimen.

or hide him in plain sight. place him where sentinel won't think to look for him. one more sparkling among many. and hope it will be enough to keep him alive. pray to primus that he'll protect his last child long enough for them to come back for him when it's safer (even if most of them have already lost their faith on him when he allowed the rest of his children to be massacred like that)

they almost lose their resolve when they realize they will have to take the little one's cog away in order to make him blend in with the rest of the newborns (and oh do they burn with murderous intent when they see what sentinel has done to their people but it's not the time yet-) but in the end they decide an impaired little prime is better than a dead one.

and so in the chaos of thirteen dead primes and a sudden energon crisis, a little sparkling who very few mechs really knew about and even fewer had seen completely vanishes. and in the depths of iacon a mech in charge of a new batch of newborns scratches their helm in confusion as they realize they must have miscounted the first time.

optimus prime is quietly erased from any official records by sentinel, written off as dead when they find a sparkling's frame mangled beyond recognition after an attack on the base of those rebels that insist on being a thorn on his side. killing the sparkling hadn't been precisely in his plans, he probably could've found some use for it after all, but he's not particularly upset about it either.

and orion pax grows up with an ache on his spark that tells him he's missing something far more important than a t-cog and dreams of gentle and loving hands, cradling him against the frames of mechs he cannot recall the faces of.

[quibbs126]

A random thing I sometimes think about because I can’t stop thinking about Transformers crossovers, but I feel like TFP Optimus would just be having the worst time

Not externally mind you, he’d be happy to be there and meet his other counterparts and probably see people dead in his universe still alive, or the war in better shape for them. I think the struggle would be entirely internal and about his own guilt and worthiness of his role

Because as far as I can tell, excluding the comics because I haven’t read them, I think Transformers Prime has it going the worst for the Autobots. Their Cybertron is completely dead, and with little/no hope of reviving it until the Omega Lock. His team is so small because they’re some of the only Autobots left, and most who are absent are so because they died. And his Megatron is probably one of the worst ones, despite their previous history and the significance he has to this Optimus

Like he’s super serious and stoic, and his team say it’s because he’s a Prime, they’re just like that. But then they all meet the other versions of Optimus, all of which seem to have more life and personality in them, and things are going fine for them. These other versions of him are allowed to be people, which TFP Optimus seemingly denies himself, and it proves that this isn’t a general Optimus thing, this is something particular to their Optimus, they’ve got the depressed one. And Optimus probably wouldn’t have a good time seeing that not only are they able to be more of people than him, but the war seems to be going better for everyone else as well, as if him doing this was for nothing, but it’s not something he can undo now

And then there’s Earthspark Megatron. He’d be happy to see a version of Megatron actually changed his ways, but you know it’d hurt him to see that yes, it actually is possible for Megatron to change, his just won’t. And even if the Earthspark versions assure him that it isn’t his fault, as Megatron’s change of heart was more spurred by Dorothy, though Optimus’ faith in him absolutely helped, there’d still be the fact that his Megatron refuses to change like this one. Not only that, but again, learning that his is probably one of the worst, and probably one of the least likely to change (at least without other factors). Which would be crushing because of his internal hope that maybe Megatron could change, or the significance he couldn’t help but place on him because of their past, basically all being for nothing

Edit: another related thought to the Megatron situation, I imagine it’d be incredibly vindicating for Ratchet hearing that he’s right, their Megatron is horrible and probably one of the least deserving of a second chance. And while I’m sure Optimus has always known deep down that Ratchet’s correct, he’s always held out hope that he was wrong and Megatron could change, only to see that he was the one wrong for thinking it. I mean Ratchet would probably eventually consider Optimus’ feelings on the situation, but at least in the moment he’s just feeling the vindication

And as stated, there’s the fact that seemingly everyone else is doing better than his universe. TF One doesn’t count as much, since the war hasn’t even officially started there, but the others still do. Yes Earthspark and Cyberverse have dying planets, but they’re still alive (presumably in ES’s case) and have clear ways of reviving them by obtaining the AllSpark, which was lost. And it’s probably going to hit everyone that the universe (excluding One) where Cybertron is at its best and still has a pretty functional society is also the one where Optimus isn’t the leader of the Autobots and didn’t fight in the Autobot-Decepticon War. Like things maybe would have gone better for their people if Optimus wasn’t the leader

Now yes, it isn’t his fault he’s in the worst timeline; technically that’s the writers’ fault and in universe that’s probably more on Megatron’s shoulders than Optimus’. But I can definitely see him blaming himself, as he sees that he is not only the worst Optimus in terms of personality (by which this definition is more actually being a person, not so much moral fiber), but in terms of actions as well, and what they’ve led to. Which again, is untrue, but that’s how he sees it

I wouldn’t necessarily say it’d lead to a TFP Optimus crash out, since I don’t think that’s how he’d react to it. It’d be more like an implosion probably. But it still would be interesting to explore I think

[theweirdestroller]

Every time the rat and I talk to each other about Transformers, some new AU or canon divergence comes into existance.

The latest of which is a Breakdown redemption for Transformers Prime that involves Breakdown taking most of Smokescreen's plot and screen time whilst making Smokescreen besties with Ultra Magnus.

Allow me to explain:

Breakdown properly switches sides somewhere during or shortly after Crossfire, or sometime around Toxicity for that nice replacement thing with Breakdown instead of Smokescreen. He gets to have his whole redemption arc, things happen, Darkmount happens, and Breakdown is the one left trying to save Optimus. (He also has the phase shifter at this point)

Now, you may be asking, "Where is Smokescreen?" And boy let me tell you!!

For this all to work, Smokescreen has to remain in the Iacon Hall of Records for just a little bit longer. For you see, after Alpha Trion knocked him out, he was sequestered away somewhere where he could remain hidden and escape on his own. This did not happen.

What did happen was one Ultra Magnus, just about to leave Cybertron, comes across the rubble of the Hall of Records. He scours the area for a short amount of time, hoping there's some supplies, relics, or energon he could use for the long journey to who-knows-where. He comes across none of the above. He does, however, find one passed out, rather young-looking Elite Guardsman. Magnus grabs the kid, takes him to his ship, and the two leave Cybertron. The planet's dead, Iacon had fallen, there was nothing left for them here.

So now Ultra Magnus is in space with an unconscious kid. Not for long, as Smokescreen does wake up rather quickly. Explanations are had, and Smokes discovers the fall of the very place he was supposed to be protecting. Magnus hears Smokescreen's side of the story as well. (Certain things aren't adding up, but he isn't sure exactly why. His best assumption is that there was a Con on the inside who knocked the kid out before the Hall was attacked.)

And so begins the very, very long journey through space.

I have so many ideas for this and so many fun things that happen. Not only do I love a good Breakdown redemption, this one isn't at the cost of Smokescreen. In fact! I would say that Smokescreen is having a much better time here compared to in canon.

[spotlightstudios]

This post goes out to my Father for regularly giving my heart attacks.

Context: I am a sfw artist. I completed that Rouge piece today. I am living with my parents, and regularly show them my personal artwork because I'm a little prideful alright? My father is super excited to see this drawing of my dnd character, and he excitedly asks to take a picture and yeah, that's fine. I leave him unattended and go talk to my mom in another room.

I return, and this man has my sketchbook flipped open looking through it like a kid at the candy shop, and I am desperately trying to roll through my head to figure out if I somehow had nsfw art or a rude gesture or smth that'd make him judge me. I do not. I decide it's safe. I have forgotten about Baddie, my Helluvaboss oc. Pros: My father likes his design and asks about him. Cons: I almost instinctively, casually, referred to him as a 'manwhore' when questioned. I kept that thought inside, but instead got very flustered. He did not notice.

I am very lucky my father supports me and loves what I draw, but I am also very afraid because this guy has also seen my laptop open and started reading a (fairly embarrassing) oc/self insert fic I was writing about Voltron (it was not ship stuff, just me digging into worldbuilding) but I was like 14 and he'd gotten almost a full page or two in before I returned to the room and panicked.

So, half a decade and nothing's changed 🙏.

[the2ndsanctuary]

actually i am going to talk about the last post but thats what getaway is to me except he was never even given a chance of having a good life and im getting emotional about it ok

[quibble-auk]

@thebrokenmechanicalpencil

Haha part four.

I gave up. This entire thing is sketchy tbh. I’m praying it makes sense. I tried to add Comet to it but then I don’t think I’d get Sunrazor genuine spazzing out. Cause this happens a lot closer to her enviable death yk? Things are just progressively getting worse for her.

And seeing the guy who helped traumatize you and then immediately dipped has an effect on you. The last time she saw him she was being torn apart so…. Yeah…

—

By all means the landing should have hurt.

The drop down into the cavern was further than Dropmix had anticipated. He tucked himself into a roll the moment he hit the ground, trying to keep the strain from his limbs. It didn’t stop the way his armor and joints groaned as he pushed himself into a crouch. Battle programs numbed any pain he should have felt from the rough landing, allowing him to focus on more important matters.

Like Jeopardy.

The gladiator didn’t bother to look up and see if Cometeater would follow him down. He didn’t care what the green mech did at this point. He had led him to Jeopardy and that was all that he needed from Comet. It was all that mattered. Dropmix didn’t need his help, he would be able to handle this himself, and it was best if the smaller mech didn’t get in his way.

Dropmix focused on trying to get his vision to adjust to the darkness, slowly shifting into a standing position, though he remained slightly hunched over. It was moments like these that he couldn’t help but miss having his other eye—he didn’t need it, but his depth perception always became worse in the low lighting. Thankfully he didn’t really need to have night vision to lock onto his target. A growl immediately rattled his chest.

Not too far from the place he stood there were blinding lights. Searchlights mounted on a mech. A behemoth stood over Jeopardy. They crouched over the young medic, their clawed hands stained in fresh energon. Dropmix hardly even registered how familiar the frame was or the blinding flood lights that washed over him as they turned to look at him.

He didn’t give a damn who it was—Autobot or Decepticon. They had what was his.

They hurt what belonged to him.

Jeopardy looked up from where he was being pressed into the ground, grime and energon coating his usually pristine frame. His bright blue eyes went wide as his attention shifted to Dropmix. He made a small broken noise when he saw the dark mech, expression full of disbelief as his breath hitched. Jeopardy’s voice was timid and shaky, “Dropmix?”

The beast that sat over him visibly recoiled at the name, their grip on the medic tightening.

Dropmix growled as he stalked forward, battle programs immediately jumping to identify any weaknesses in his opponent. They were big and heavily armored. Any attempt at dealing blunt damage would be in vain and the small pistol he carried would struggle to deal any meaningful damage. But the bulk would make them slower and not as agile. If he managed to get their legs they would easily lose balance. The joints were well covered, though there were still gaps large enough that Dropmix could fit his claws—

He stumbled in his approach, the gladiator had been too caught up with sizing his opponent up to notice the small pile of debris at his feet. He swiftly regained his balance, gaze still not leaving his target. Programs kept him from feeling anything but that didn’t stop him from numb discomfort that coursed through his frame at the jerky movement. Warnings flashed in his HUD but the active battle programs quickly dismissed them for him. He knew what they were about anyway, his internal temperature had yet to decrease upon entering the cool cavern.

Dropmix needed to focus.

He didn’t have claws, so he’d need to improvise. Maybe he could… He didn’t let himself finish the thought, eye catching movement. The titan frantically stood, pulling a hulking gun from their back as they moved. They carried Jeopardy in their open hand and the medic cried out as he was yanked from the ground. The larger mech quickly pressed the barrel of the gun to Jeopardy’s quivering frame as they stumbled backwards in an attempt to distance themselves from Dropmix.

The gladiator froze, sucking in another breath. For a brief moment he could have sworn it was Theremin in their arms instead of Jeopardy.

“Come any closer and I’ll kill him!” The mech shouted, almost in a panic. Any commanding tone the booming voice usually carried was swamped down by fear. Their playing flared in warning, vents hissing and engine idling in a growl. What would have been an intimidating display was destroyed by their clear hesitation.

Their blue eyes flashed to red occasionally.

Which was odd.

Optics weren’t designed to change colors like that, not under normal settings at least. Yet the mech’s spasmed between red and blue, occasionally slipping into a piercing white. Dropmix blinked, breathing heavily as he stared the other down. It took a moment but in the haze of screeching battle programs he was finally able to recognize her. He knew who that was.

It was Sunrazor.

If Dropmix wasn’t as pissed off he may have smiled. He could work with this, it had been some time since he had seen Sunrazor but she clearly remembered him. The gladiator eyed her cautiously, jaw clenching tightly as he managed to rear in his anger. It was just like Noxious, he needed to hold himself back if he wanted to make her suffer. If he wanted to make sure that Jeopardy wouldn’t get hurt anymore than he already was. But he would still win.

The dark mech straightened slightly, still not risking another step forward. His frame shivered slightly as he struggled to restrain himself. He forced his tone to be even, focusing on Sunrazor instead of Jeopardy for the moment, “Put the gun down.”

Ideally, Torrent had left some of the slave coding active, though it was unlikely. But it was still worth a shot, unless the mech had gone out of his way to take Dropmix off of her list of “masters” she should be obedient.

The golden mech flinched back, eyes flicking frantically. Her grip on the gun and Jeopardy tightened. Her claws digging into his side. The medic cried out weakly, wide eyes still fixated on Dropmix’s form.

Sunrazor didn’t move for a moment. Her eyes flicked between colors before flashing a bright white, matching her floodlights. Her powerful engine growled, plating flaring in warning and an attempt to expel some of the heat that was building in her stressed frame. Dropmix could see the slight warping in the air that surrounded her.

Surprisingly, she smiled, mouth twisting upwards as she bore her fangs. Sunrazor lowered her gun as laughter bubbled from her throat, unhinged and mad sounding—Dropmix couldn’t help but cringe at the sound. She took a few more steps back, thrown off balance by her sudden outburst. Her plates settled slightly as her tense form relaxed. The guardian shook her head as the laughing settled into a dark chuckle.

“You can’t tell me what to do!” Sunrazor loudly proclaimed, snickering as she looked over Dropmix with crazed white eyes. Her voice quieted for a moment “No… no you can’t. You can’t. I don’t have to listen. Not to you…”

She trailed off, muttering under her breath as she looked down at the gun she held for a brief moment. Her smile fading before it returned as she lifted her head to look at Dropmix. The Decepticon laughed more, the maddening sound echoing around the empty space. Her voice got louder and more confident again. “You're not real! I just made you up!”

The golden mech nodded to herself as she giggled, the sound getting caught in her vents, “Just another memory or some slag. Not real at all. You’ve been gone for so long! Why the hell would you show up now?”

Sunrazor shook her head, looking at Jeopardy as her platting rattled with each harsh breath she took. Her white eyes alight with something almost playful as she tried to contain her laughing fit, fingers twitching, “I must seem crazy to you, talking to myself.”

Jeopardy managed to look up at her with wide eyes, no sound left him as he stared at the spiraling mech who currently held him. The gun was still loosely pressed against him, though it had shifted from its original position on his head. The medic nervously glanced at Dropmix before looking back up at Sunrazor.

Dropmix’s eye narrowed, his systems working in overdrive to process the madness unfolding before him. Sunrazor’s words didn’t make sense—made him up? What the frag was she talking about? Jeopardy had addressed him just a few minutes ago. Her aggressive programming shouldn’t let her dismiss a threat so quickly. There was something beneath her erratic behavior that unsettled him, it took a moment before it clicked.

This was the instability that Torrent had warned them about.

Sunrazor had seen Valkyrie and the battle with her very own processor had long since begun. Dropmix just had never been able to see it in person before, not until now. The guardian had been lucky to survive this long with conflicting programs—as lucky as she could be, it was far from a painless process. But, she was apparently having hallucinations often enough that she had dismissed him as one.

Which meant he had less control than he originally thought. She wasn’t just malfunctioning. No, she was lost. Genuinely spiraling and confused. Dropmix was dealing with something broken beyond repair, and that only made her more unpredictable.

Dropmix had fought plenty of unstable mechs before. Some were glitched beyond recognition. Some were too far gone to process anything beyond violence. He knew how to handle those—predictable in their destruction, driven by instinct or command lines that couldn’t be rewritten.

But Sunrazor was different.

Her eyes still occasionally spasmed between colors—always landing on that stark white. She was present, though. Aware. Not entirely lost to her programming, just caught in some limbo between control and collapse. A bomb waiting to go off at the slightest wrong move. Unfortunately for Dropmix, if he happened to make a fatal error in his approach Jeopardy would be the one punished.

The gladiator adjusted his stance, trying to steady his vents, ignoring another ping of warnings. His battle programs wanted him to charge. Tear through her plating, rip her apart, take Jeopardy back. But he couldn’t risk setting her off. Not when she was already teetering on the edge of whatever abyss she was staring into. So, he sat and waited, frame itching and aching for action.

Sunrazor exhaled sharply, a dry, staticky sound. Her venting system must have been failing under the strain of overheating. Her laughter finally ceased as her smile fell to a more blank expression, her gaze shifting back to Dropmix, head tilting slightly as she examined him. She muttered to herself, too quiet for the dark mech to hear.

He had to do something, hesitantly he shifted his posture. His hands twitched. Dropmix had no idea if this gamble would work, but it was the only edge he had. Sunrazor’s mind was eating itself alive. If she genuinely thought he wasn’t real, then she might hesitate just long enough to give him an opening. “If I’m not real then you can lower your gun. There’s no reason to hold it to the medic.”

There was a brief pause.

“Who?” She blinked, looking around until she followed the barrel of the gun down to Jeopardy, who she was still holding up. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him. She remained still and quiet for a moment, eventually slowly lowering her gun and speaking softly, “I was gonna bring you to the base, right? Not kill you?”

Dropmix used the long pause to slowly creep closer, each movement slow and calculated. He used her confusion and shifted focus to his advantage. If he got close enough then he could finally disarm her and let his programs take over again. The idea seemed to satisfy them at the moment, the promise that he would still punish the guardian was enough.

Jeopardy stared up at her, wincing as her grip tightened again, a small whine escaping him. He nodded hesitantly, sucking in a shaky breath. His voice was quiet and broken, “Ye-Yeah… Not kill me.”

Sunrazor looked back at Dropmix and he froze. She watched at him carefully, skeptically almost. But slowly her attention drifted back to Jeopardy, her gaze shifting to the medic. Her eyes flashed to red and she growled, plates flaring as her engine roared back to life. Her grip shifted before it tightened, claws embedding deep into Jeopardy’s side and chest. The plating crumpled under the force and more energon pooled down the medic’s white form.

The medic screamed, the noise fizzling to static as his struggling slowed.

Dropmix felt his spark lurch, vents failing as his mind descended into a haze. He surged forward, instincts demanding action, but his own restraint twisted like a blade in his gut. The gladiator came to a stumbling halt when Sunrazor’s glare turned to him. Her finger on the trigger twitched. He couldn't move—not yet. He couldn't risk it.

His vents whined softly, Dropmix couldn’t hear his fans blasting anymore. Every single battle program was shrieking at him to move, to kill, to reclaim—but he held himself still. Just barely. His frame tensed and twitched as he was forced to watch. If he moved he would lose Jeopardy, but if he didn’t act soon then it all would have been for nothing.

He couldn’t afford that.

The gladiator forced himself to suck in a breath, the warnings refused to be dismissed so he just ignored them. He needed to get her talking, get her stuck in the loop she was spinning herself into. He took another cautious step forward. He managed to make his voice calm, though there was an edge to it as he strained to keep himself under control, “You were going to take him back. Not kill him.”

Sunrazor’s eyes flashed, lips peeling back from sharpened teeth. Her frame groaned, the paint covering the plating over her core starting to blister and peel back. Her breath puffed, the hot air forming a small cloud against the coolness of the cavern. The guardian’s plating trembled slightly.

"You’re—” Her breath stuttered. “You’re not real.”

“That’s right. I’m not real,” Dropmix nodded sternly, his voice firm as he shifted ever so slightly closer. “So put him down, Sunrazor. Before you make a mistake.”

The Decepticon’s grip slackened slightly, eyes flaring between colors until fiery red bore into Dropmix’s frame. She bore her teeth angrily as she seethed, “I don't make mistakes. I don’t need to be fixed.”

Her entire frame locked up at the word, breath hitching. Sunrazor’s grip tightened again, Jeopardy’s scream wrenched through the cavern, fizzing into garbled static as Sunrazor’s claws dug deeper. Dropmix flinched again, a low growl escaping him. His spark clenched, he hadn’t even been the one to make a mistake.

Sunrazor had set herself off.

“You think I’m glitched!” Her voice roared angrily, “You think I’m broken!”

Dropmix didn’t respond. He didn’t have to. She saw the answer in his silence.

For a moment, Sunrazor looked like she wanted to rip her own plating off. Her claws twitched, her entire form shuddering like she was barely holding herself together. She shook her head muttering to herself. The air around her still warped with heat, and her engine roared again, but there was something frantic about it now.

Then, in a movement so fast it sent Dropmix’s systems screaming in warning she hurled Jeopardy to the floor.

The medic hardly had time before he hit the ground hard. A sickening crunch echoed through the cavern as his already battered frame crumpled against the cold floor. His body skidded across the rough ground before coming to a limp stop. His vents wheezed, the sound fizzling into static before cutting off entirely.

Everything stood still.

Dropmix could have sworn he was back in The Pits staring at the limp form of Theremin. It crashed over him all over again, he wasn’t enough. He had failed Theremin and now he had failed Jeopardy too. Dropmix’s vents choked. The screech of his battle programs reached a deafening pitch, a piercing wail demanding action. Every inch of his plating bristled as the weight of the moment crushed down on him but he couldn’t will himself to move.

Jeopardy didn’t move.

His body lay sprawled where Sunrazor had thrown him, energon pooling beneath his white frame, staining it in deep violet streaks. His eyes were still dim, unfocused and flickering softly. Jeopardy was expressionless and blank. Dropmix couldn’t tell if he was conscious—if he was alive.

It was give up then, he bitterly concluded as he stared at the motionless medic. That's what would happen if he lost Jeopardy. Dropmix couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe—but maybe that was just his system finally giving way to the heat. Dropmix couldn’t even bring himself to rush over to check vitals because maybe if he waited long enough he would wake up. He just uselessly stared at Jeopardy, praying to whatever higher power that the white mech would move.

His fingers twitched.

It was all Dropmix needed.

The air cracked with the sound of his engines surging to life as he lunged.

Sunrazor barely had time to register the movement before Dropmix slammed into her with all the force of a railgun shell. The impact sent them both crashing into the cavern wall, rock and dust exploding around them. The golden mech snarled, caught off guard, dropping her gun as she struggled to regain composure. Her eyes flaring white.

Dropmix didn’t give her a chance to recover. He couldn’t.

His claws—his hands, he didn’t have claws, not anymore—latched onto the plating of her midsection. He shoved his blunt fingers into a small gap that had already started to form from where her armor had dented and been warped out of place. His hand burned, the heat following off of the other made his vision glitch out for just a moment. Sunrazor’s claws sank into his back, into the thick shell like armor that covered it.

The gladiator didn’t react, all that mattered was tearing her apart before she had the chance to touch Jeopardy again. He focused on where he had forced his hand under her armor. With a practiced ease he twisted his wrist, forcing the plating to pop off. The sound satisfying something deep inside him.

The guardian roared, searchlights flashing as she thrashed angrily, tearing off chunks of armor. Dropmix’s fingers dug deeper into the exposed plating, twisting, forcing it wider, pushing past layers of warped metal until he felt the subtle give of something vital beneath.

Sunrazor screamed.

Dropmix was back in The Pits again. Tearing another opponent apart for the sake of wounded pride. There was no music to restrain him, no need to contain himself. The only thought running through his mind was how to make the other mech suffer.

Her body jerked, engine stuttering as she spasmed against him. Her vents blasted scalding heat into his face, but he didn’t let go. He would not let go. Not even when her claws finally sank into his back, tearing through the soft plating. Dropmix drove his hand deeper, tearing at anything he managed to get a hold of. He expected her to scream again. She didn’t.

She started laughing. A choked, rasping, painful. A dry, broken noise full of something Dropmix didn’t have a name for.

“You,” she hissed, voice fractured at the edges, like something breaking apart mid-sentence. “You think you can fix me, Dropmix? Think you can kill me before they do?”

Her vents hitched, body trembling under his grip, but her gaze found his, locked onto him, burning—something deeper than hatred, more primal than fear. She whispered, too soft, too calm, “You can try.”

Dropmix should have finished her. Should have driven his fist deeper, torn out whatever he could reach, ended the fight before she had the chance to retaliate. But he hadn’t acted fast enough.

Her heel slammed into the side of his knee joint, twisting against the structure with pinpoint force. Dropmix snarled as his balance broke. His knee buckled, plating grinding against itself, collapsing into itself under the force. He recoiled, trying to regain balance, attempting to use her to stabilize himself. But it left an opening.

In that fraction of a second Sunrazor moved. She wrenched one clawed hand from his back and drove it forward. She aimed for his face. The force sent him staggering, his helm whipping to the side as he felt metal crack. His HUD flared in protest, error messages screaming across his vision as his depth perception collapsed further.

Sunrazor wasted no time. The moment she had space she lunged. Her shoulder slammed into his chest, raw strength sending him hurtling backward. Dropmix hit the ground hard, rolling, plating scraping against the jagged cavern floor. He grunted, vents stuttering as his systems scrambled to reorient himself. His knee ached from the direct hit, his head swam from the strike, but he forced himself upright, instinct demanding he move, that he retaliate.

The golden mech didn’t move from where she stood, eyes flickering between colors. She heaved ragged, uneven breaths, vents sputtering under the strain of her overheated frame. Energon seeped down her front, her clawed hand pressed against the gaping wound Dropmix had left, it did little to stop the bleeding.

“…You're not supposed to be here,” she whispered, the words carrying something almost… uncertain. “You're not—”

She cut herself off, plating rattling as her hands twitched, her eyes cycling through colors again. Eventually they landed on a radiant blue. Her eyes widened and she took a few stumbling steps backwards, she was afraid. Sunrazor shook her head, tone dropping, “What do you want from me?”

Dropmix’s gaze flickered toward Jeopardy’s unmoving form. His plating prickled, his rage clawing back up his throat. He wanted to rip her apart, wanted to see her spark gutter out in his hands for what she had done. But with each second he spent trying to make her pay Jeopardy could be drifting closer to death. The gladiator couldn’t risk that. He needed to prioritize the safety of Jeopardy over his own pride. He tensed, body flinching as he narrowed his eye.

He swallowed down his fury, forcing his frame to still even as his plating twitched with the need to finish what he had started. His battle programs screamed at him, demanding retaliation, demanding he strike while she was weak, but he pushed the urge down. Dropmix forced himself to straighten despite his aching knee and back, despite the throbbing in his helm and the insistent heat that made it difficult to focus. His vents hissed as he took a single step forward, tone sharper than steel. “I want you to run.”

Sunrazor flinched at the demand, as though it was a foreign concept to her. Her expression twisted into something unreadable, her claws twitching at her sides. He could see the battle waging within her, the conflict tearing at her from the inside. She was unraveling, losing control of whatever programming was holding her together.

Good.

The guardian took another stumbling step backward, vents wheezing under the strain of her failing systems. Her eyes, still flickering erratically, locked onto Dropmix with something between rage, confusion, and fear. The shift in her stance was almost imperceptible, a twitch of her plating, the slight dip of her frame, but Dropmix recognized it for what it was—hesitation.

He had her.

She might not have realized it yet, but she was already retreating. His demand had cut through whatever tangled mess was gnawing at her mind. He saw it in the way her fingers clenched and unclenched, the way her plating bristled with uncertainty.

“I said run, Sunrazor,” Dropmix repeated, his voice dangerously low, the edge of a growl curling into his words. He took another step forward, slow and deliberate. He eyes Jeopardy, who had still not moved from where he lay still. Dropmix prayed he wasn’t too late already. He glowered at the Decepticon when she still didn’t move.

Her eyes spasmed again, flickering between red and white before settling on a pale, piercing blue. A low, guttural sound rumbled from her throat, almost like a whine. She shook her head sharply, plating shuddering with the movement, like she was trying to shake something loose. "No—no, I don't have to—I'm not—" she stammered, voice cracking.

She sounded lost.

But Dropmix didn’t care. He wasn’t here to save her.

The gladiator took another step forward, closer to Sunrazor and Jeopardy alike. He shuddered as he forced himself to turn the music back on in his internal comms. Beating his battle programs into submission and staggering a bit when a tidal wave of pain washed over him. The programs wouldn’t buffer it for him anymore, he would just need to deal with it.

Sunrazor didn’t seem to notice the dark mech falter, she simply took a few more steps back, trying to keep the distance between them. Dropmix growled low, he already had her cornered, he had already won. She just refused to admit it. He stalked closer, “Get out of here.”

[hyp3rfixation-h3ll]

nobody ever talks about it, but i feel like it's always important to remind y'all that the 10 episodes in which BotBots takes place in don't (usually) happen back-to-back, so here's a post about it because it's kinda fucked once you think about it. TL;DR: the implications of how much time passes in this series are terrifying and the fact that the lost bots didnt lose their minds has me rolling a little

unrelated steak cuts pride hcz bc i need 2 spread more propaganda and also to catch your attention >:] (Burgertron's are the butch, genderqueer, transbian and ADHD flags, Bonz-Eye's are the gnc, butch, nonbinary and autism flags!)

There's gaps in time between each episode, even with the half-n-half episode format, with very few exceptions. Ep 1B, (Never) Be Yourself, takes place the very next night, right after 1A (Mall than Meets the Eye), and in episode 10 it's established at the beginning it also takes place the next night, after 9B (Shopping Brawl). Hell, Dimlit in Love and On the Bot Prom Dancefloor have a gap in time between each other-- Dimlit states it's been 6 days and 11 hours since he and Jackie started dating in OtBPD! One of my friends, @knavewoods, did the math on it, and because the earliest date mentioned in the show is February and there's a Halloween/Christmas pop-up store, they estimated that by that point the Lost Bots had been at it for 7 months at LEAST, and that by the time of the finale it'd have probably been a year and a half because of the Science Alliance episode having a beach theme to it w/ the implications of it being summertime. (Not that either of us think that the Bots know what seasons are, but it's compelling evidence!)

A year and a half. That is a LONG time to be isolated from literally everyone you've ever known and loved, and not only that but the Lost Bots are being actively BULLIED half the time. Sure, they have allies like Lady Macaron and Jackie, but like. There's no way that ISN'T insanely upsetting to any of them, ESPECIALLY Burgertron. Imagine having your girlfriend play Hot-N-Cold with you for a YEAR AND A HALF. Idk about y'all but I'd be fucked up about that too. And not only that, but the finale establishes that Spud basically had it out for BT from the start. Imagine trusting someone so much that theyre your BEST FRIEND and it turns out they hated your guts the whole time and was basically the reason everyone wanted you gone forever for a YEAR AND A HALF. I don't think i'd be able to recover from that for a while. I don't know how to close out this post properly, so just. like. look at them and then absorb the words im saying into your brain ok? ok. bye :3

[lususnatura]

blamore when he's in love with someone is like the epitome of ' how deep is your love. ' and honestly, in addition to that song being a banger (the bee gee's has made a lot of those in my opinion though NGL LOL), i say this because it really is that lover who silently wants their partner to give them ALL of their love and who is that ride or die whom won't let anyone break them down + will always have a 'it's both of us versus the world' mindset.

because whenever it comes to love... it is all or nothing with blamore. which means he will be completely devoted to whoever this partner at the time may be, and will kind of have an unspoken expectation that they'll also be devoted to him, but in a very sweet way like twin-flames or something. Because, and don't tell it i said this (nahhh, i'm just kidding around with y'all LOL i know he isn't real ofc but you know the vibes), the plant-hybrid is sort of a romantic deep down

[daydreamerdrew]

The Incredible Hulk (1968) #268 and #272

[madamechrissy]

Sex, Lies, Ugly Truth

art in the banner is by @3-aem ! god they make the juiciest art, go follow <3

Pairings - Your mom's boyfriend Satoru x F! reader

Summary- here's just one thing worse than having to stay with your estranged mom for just a few days while your apartment is getting renovated - and that's the six foot four white haired man banging her out every night. And does he own a fucking shirt!? You can't stand being around them, your mom's much younger boyfriend who's closer to your age. What's worse is... you liked him first. He's arrogant, annoying and you're disgusted by him - he doesn't actually make you wet that's... nothing!? And you don't want to fuck him, not at all! No way you wanna fuck your bitch ass mom's boyfriend. right?

Warnings - oh boyyy aha, forbidden love, abusive mother (reader) mentions of past eating disorders, verbal abuse from reader's mom, sm tension and build up, sex doesn't happen till after Toru tells your mom byeee, but fingering does happen before that, oral (f and m receiving) backshots while on the phone with your mom -yeppp - damaged ass reader and Satoru, they have issues, hints of stepcest I guess but he's not rly your stepdad lol, Satoru is 32, reader is 22 so AGE GAP, reader calling him daddy as a joke - maybe. Oneshot - WC - 13.2k

This is literally so toxic aha, my mommy issues haven't gone away. read the warnings! and if you fuck with this brand of crazy, I'll see you in the comments

The first day staying under the same roof as Satoru Gojo

Staying at your mom's for a couple weeks was horrible to say the very least, not just because she was an insane bitch, and not just because you swore you'd never come back here. Not because the memories of being in your old room - transformed into a mural of her pictures and crowns from various pageants she’d been in, you think she changed it the same day you left.

No, not because you love having your freedom, and busted your ass to make sure you never have had to stay here, not because you hadn’t talked to her in so long you have no clue what to say to each other. And not just due to the fact that she was only allowing you here because your father called and asked her to do one favor for once - he lived way too far away.

No, there was another reason that you were miserable, and that was the moans emanating from the next room.

How many rounds could that man go?

And did she have to scream so loud!?!

You slam a pillow on your face, screaming into it while your mom is screaming out - Gojo! There, there! - and then to make it worse, you hear a filthy smack. You feel nauseated at this point, about to throw up if you had to hear one more moan, when finally he seems to finish up.

Jesus, that was a longer session than usual. Does the man do anything but fuck you’re really not certain. Huffing, you throw off the covers of the little futon she’d so graciously brought out, the woman was well off, mind you, but none of that ever helped you any. You wonder if he’s after her money or something, because he was gorgeous, but you suppose your mother was as well.

It still seemed odd, he wasn’t much older than you, but it’s not as if your mom wasn’t notorious for fucking younger guys - even some of your high school friends as soon as they turned eighteen. That was one of the reasons your dad moved out of the country, and you couldn’t blame him for it, she was by far the worst human being, but everyone didn’t know that.

In fact, it was really only you and your dad, along with a couple close friends of yours that knew how horrible she was. Keeping custody of you - for ‘appearances’ - had been hell. But everyone saw her as the ideal, doting mother - after all she spent all her time taking you to every competition there was, and made sure you looked and acted perfect for them.

As soon as you shed the ‘perfect image’ she decided to quit acting.

Shaking off reminiscent thoughts, you get up now and walk over to the door, glaring at the endless photos of her in bikinis and gowns, no one loved themselves more than your mother did, truly. You peek out and notice it’s finally gone quiet in that room, heading to the kitchen to grab a water, downing it to fight back the nausea.

That’s when he walks out, smirking at you, shirtless, nothing but boxers slung over his narrow hips - the reason this was even worse for you.

Satoru Gojo.

"Gimme, I'm dehydrated." This mother fucker snatches the watter bottle then, gulping it down, you watch his Adam's apple Bob as he does, sweat dripping across perfectly sculpted abs. You stare for a moment as your mom walks out, or should you say waddled out, glaring at you now.

"Gojo, come back to bed." She doesn't acknowledge you, and Satoru frowns a bit, the never ending tension between you two prevalent. Satoru actually never knew she had a daughter till he saw you come to the house yesterday, but she sure doesn't seem to have any affection- in fact she hasn't even introduced you properly to him, it was more - this is my daughter.

"Need a break." Gojo says, you bend down to snatch up your bottle, and he can't help but eye your ass in those shorts, looking away quickly now.

There was a big problem staying at his girlfriend’s house for the past couple nights, and that was - 

Satoru wants to fuck his girlfriend's daughter.

His girlfriend is forty five, Satoru is thirty two. And it just so happens you're twenty two, so you’re honestly closer to his age just a bit, but Satoru loves older women, he loves milfs, girls his age or younger were never much interest. He probably has mommy issues, no, he definitely does, there's nothing better than having his head stroked and having a meal made for him after fucking a Milf's brains out- 

Except, maybe, getting to ever touch you.

Gorgeous. You're so gorgeous, effortless and seemingly unaware.

You dress in all black, the opposite of what he expected with your mother who was literally beauty pageant winner for her state for years, her crowns are displayed everywhere. But not a single picture of you to be found, and you'd win them all too with your beauty. But you seem to shove it all away, baggy shirts and ripped jeans, you have not a speck of makeup on your face. Big buffalo plaid jackets as if to hide a body he now sees is fucking banging.

Your mom scowls over at you as she ties her robe. "Stop bothering him and go to your room."

"I just got water because hearing you all fuck for hours was making me sick. I'm not bothering him. He took my water."

"I don't care, when are you leaving again?" You blink a bit.

"I told you it's just a week while they're fixing that roof leak, and I won't bother you again. I'd have asked dad but I can't be that far from work."

"The sooner the better, and don't judge me for having a life, my sentence of you is over now." Satoru pauses, the woman he's been with for months was always sweet and perfect, until you got here.

Seeing your eyes water he clears his throat. "She wasn't bothering me, I did snatch her water up."

Your mom's face has plastered back on a fake smile, the beauty queen smile that’s so cold it makes you shiver, as she brushes up and down Satoru's bare arm, you hate how pretty he is. How much you think of him, and how her hand is all over him, it makes your stomach turn.

"You're right, sorry sweetie I'm just tired." She cooes, all fake she comes and hugs you. Satoru frowns, hoping he read that wrong, you stand still, unmoving, eyeing him over your mom's shoulder then. "I'll try to be quieter -" she leans against your ear. "So you're not so jealous of me hmm?"

You bite back tears, shoving her off. Satoru hadn't heard anything so he has no clue as she comes up to him that you're sobbing in your room. You almost forgot how much you hate that bitch. Yes, you hate your mother. Who pushed you beyond your means to compete when you were younger, damn near starving and working you to perfection, and when you turned eighteen and threw all your tiaras in the trash, lit your gowns and sashes on fire, she never fucking forgave you.

You haven't talked to her in four years, tired of living in her goddamn shadow, your father left her ten years ago and you see why. He hates her as much as you. They fought all the time over letting you have a choice of who to move with, but she ultimately won custody.

And now she takes the guy you were thinking of working up the courage to talk to.

Satoru Gojo. 

You saw him every day as you studied at that coffee shop right by your college, flirting with everyone, so light and free with his bright smile and confidence, while you wallowed in the corner. But you never did say hi, you're sure he never saw you, but to come home and find him shirtless and grinning was almost too much.

Your apartment unfortunately had a horrible leak upstairs and you had to leave, this was the last place you expected but it was right across from work. Never asking her for a thing you hoped maybe you could mend some bridges, but she's as cruel, beautiful and cold as ever. As a younger girl, you craved to have any of her attention, looked up to her, but now you know it’s not worth anything.

Maybe that's the type of woman a guy like Satoru Gojo went for, not you.

What did it matter!? He’s as off limits as it gets.

You hear them moaning again and shove in your earbuds, throwing a blanket over your head and praying for the week to end.

*****

Three days of staying under the same roof as Satoru Gojo

“Shit, sorry…” You’ve stepped right into the bathroom while Satoru’s walking out the next morning, skin glistening with the shower he just took, steam rising out of the door behind him. He smirks down at you as you careen into him damn near, hitting his hard body and almost falling before he catches you.

“Sorry for what?” He sets you right, lazy in his assessment of your face, blue eyes impossible to read, while your eyes drift across his nearly naked body, falling to the towel that’s not hiding shit, bringing a flush to your cheeks. “What, never seen a naked man? You freak out all the time.”

“Well if you ever wore any fucking clothes,” you shove him out of your way, scowling at his smirking face. “What?”

“You’re cute. Bet you’re a whole virgin.”

“Oh fuck yourself, none of your business, fucking Mrs. Robinson.” Satoru chuckles now while your hands brush against his slippery skin a little too long, making him pause, seeing color decorate your cheeks. He falters then, looking down at you, so clearly unused to any attention, clearing your throat and dropping your hand.

“How do you know what Mrs. Robinson is, you’re a baby.” He teases, arm resting in the doorway, that towel daring to dive lower with every moment, you avert your eyes now, digging out your makeup bag from the drawer to wash your face.

“You’re not much older than me, right?”

“Ten years older. You’re still a baby.”

“I’m closer to you than she is.” He blinks a bit, you wish he’d leave, but he’s just lingering like a little fucking pest.

“I guess. You’re nothing like her.” You scoff then, he didn’t mean it as an insult but he sees it is one, your jaw setting while you dry your face with a soft towel, and fuck if you’re not prettier bare faced than anyone he’s seen with a face full of product.

He shouldn’t think like that.

“I’m definitely nothing like her.”

“You don’t call her mom, huh?” He raises a brow, while you’re slathering serum on your skin, cool and tacky as it dries, counteracting the steam and the overheating of your skin from his proximity.

“No, I don’t. It’s none of your business, you all will be back to an empty love shack in days.”

Satoru chuckles then, shaking his head as you glare up at him. “Love shack, what’s with these old ass references?”

“I enjoy old things too, just like you enjoy old women.” He snorts now, rolling his eyes.

“She’s not old to me, one day you’ll be there too.”

“Sure will and won’t be fucking dudes that look like babies.” Satoru leans forward then, that perfect, pretty face right against yours, you freeze when he tilts your chin up, breath brushing across your lips.

“I’m no baby.” His whisper is too much, you swallow nervously, stepping back while he wreaks havoc on your nervous system, heart hammering when his snowy lashes lower, hand falling. “Why do you care what she does and with who?”

“I don’t. But I am not surprised, she was a hit at the high school graduation party.” He blinks in confusion at your words, you shake your head now. “You’re new to her. I almost feel bad for you.”

“Do you now…” You shove him aside, hating how good his skin feels again, hating whatever the fuck he does to your tummy being too close, shoving those thoughts far back.

“I do, she runs through toys like you.”

“We’re dating, not just fucking, you know.” Your lips quirk up, patting his shoulder, only for him to grip your wrist with his huge hand, taking it over, pausing your steps. You turn back to glare at his grip, then up into those arrogant eyes. “You know something I don’t?”

“Let’s just say, she’s a bitch.” You shake him off again. “But you are too.”

“Me!? You’re the mopey, emo little brat glaring daggers at me, sweetheart.” His voice murmurs, his breath against your skin as he leans down, you yank your wrist out of his grip.

“Don’t call me sweetheart!” You hiss as the bedroom door opens, as you two quickly separate, but she’s eyed your proximity, smiling coldly as she assesses you, the look that’s always made you feel so small, holds less than it did before, but it’s still there, the haunting memory of it all.

“Shouldn’t you be at work?” She says it so nasty to you then, you just glare once more at Satoru and nod, walking past, her hand halting you, her mouth against your ear, making you shiver in disgust. “Stop looking at him, you’ll never have someone like that.”

“I don’t want him.” You whisper back, earning her laugh now, while she fake hugs you, and you just want to fucking fall into a hole.

“Have a great day, honey!” She smiles and steps forward to Satoru, you can’t stop looking back over your shoulder at them, sighing when his eyes catch yours over her shoulder, unreadable - but you swear you see something flicker.

You can’t even think that way.

You’re stupid.

*****

Five days of staying under the same roof as Satoru Gojo

The man does not own a tee-shirt, you’re completely convinced - he’s always half naked, as if this is how he exists. Well, he clearly has dress shirts, he wears them when he heads off to run his business, you’re not even sure what that job entails, apparently some trust fund baby considering he’s never there. He left for the past couple of nights to go home, thank god.

When he does he brings her with him and she doesn’t come back until late, driven home in some fancy limo, but you get a reprieve.

You suppose he looks good in his Armani suits as he leaves every morning though, always getting some breakfast made from ‘mommy’- yuck. You have to watch them kissing in the kitchen as you fight waves of nausea, but the past couple days you haven’t heard that ridiculous fucking, and he barely kisses her, eyeing you intently when he does press his lips on her cheek.

“Satoru, do you have to go to work today?” She pouts as she blinks those long lashes at him, and he sighs, smiling and touching her cheek, as you vividly wish it was you, which you hate yourself for. You avoid his eyes, sipping on coffee before you head to work yourself.

“I do honey, don’t worry I’ll come stay tonight.” She pouts again, he just smiles a little stiffly, walking out as you head out the door, hands touching the knob at the same time, making you both pause. You clear your throat, pulling your hand back like it’s on fire, as he lets you out first, feeling your mom’s gaze burning a hole in the back of your head.

“Want a ride to work?” He asks quietly, heading over to the black car with a driver holding the back door.

“You don’t drive, huh?”

“Why should I when I can pay someone too.” His pretentious smirk again has you itching to smack him, but the thought of not having to catch a bus is tempting. “You know you wanna.”

“Whatever. Thanks I guess.” He bows as if he’s some gentleman and not an idiot, you slide in next to him, sighing as his thighs spread way too far, brushing against yours. “Manspread much?”

“You hate me don’t you?” You blink in confusion, looking away and biting that lower lip, the lip that fucks him up mentally to look at. Being this close to you alone is making his body react, his pulse racing, even as he keeps a neutral look, he aches to drag your lips against his.

He’s been trying to avoid you since that morning in the bathroom when you touched his chest, burning his skin like a brand. The pull is too much, to where he can hardly remember what he was thinking with your mom. She’s gorgeous, she’s his type, she’s got everything Satoru needs after spending the day at his boring ass family company, but her daughter won’t stop tempting him.

How he saw your breasts spill out of your tank top this morning, your scent that he can’t describe filling a room, it’s all horrible - and shit timing, as now your mom has been talking about getting more serious. Before he saw you, he was hopelessly enamored with her beauty, her clear confidence, but he can’t stop looking at the shy, insecure girl far too eagerly.

He’d show you how gorgeous you were if he had a chance-

The fuck is wrong with him?

You’re her daughter.

“I don’t hate you, Gojo.” You say softly, turning to look up at him now, so much pain behind your eyes it nearly takes his breath away.

“You sure act like it.”

“I know. I have to.” You clear your throat nervously, tucking strands of hair behind your ear, his fingers itching to sweep it back, breath catching when you look up at him, eyes so intense he can’t look away.

“Why do you have to hate me?” He asks quietly again, trying to remember - you’re young, you’re his girl’s daughter, while you remember, he’s your mom’s boyfriend, and you can never act on anything.

“You know the answer,” you whisper, leaning forward a bit, when he leans down, the car cruising gently through the busy streets, entrapping you both in the black tinted windows. “Don’t you?”

“Do I? Seems like you hate her, and I’m hated by default,” he brushes that hair back finally, the contact bringing heat to your cheek, he feels it against his fingers, exhaling when you don’t pull back. “Do you have a good reason to hate her?”

“I do.”

“What-” The car comes to a stop now, jostling you just a bit, as the driver apologizes for hitting the brakes too hard, throwing you right against Satoru’s hard body, you inhale that cologne, expensive and musky, almost making you salivate before he pulls back a bit. “Shit, you okay?”

“Yeah, fine.” You pull back before it feels good, sliding away again and looking out the dark window. “It’s too long of a story.”

“We have a drive to talk.” He wants to talk to you, fuck he wants to do a lot more than talk, last night he’d seen you when he tried to fuck her, and he had to stop, much to her irritation.

He kept fighting the need to jerk it to the memory of your pretty tits, to picture you instead of her, to shove it all down and try to remember himself.

He’d be glad when you weren’t around, tempting him.

“It’s too much to even begin, but… let’s just say living in her shadow, and with her expectations were brutal.” Satoru tilts his head, big hands on his own thighs, sitting still so as not to further touch you, or do more. “I gave up pageants when I turned eighteen and she disowned me.’

“You did them?” He asks softly, you sigh and turn to look back at him.

“Yeah, since I was three. I… don’t wanna get into it all.” He sighs, was it just that your mother was so upset you gave up on her dream? It felt like more. “I don’t hate you though. Okay? Aside from constantly making her scream out like some goat-” he bursts into laughter then, making your eyes narrow. “And never wearing a shirt.”

“You really hate that.” He muses, you want to tell him more about her, but he’s not your therapist, not your friend, and as much as you despise your mother, it’s just not your place to spill it all. So you leave it at that, sighing and pulling out your phone, checking the time.

“Besides all of that you’re okay I guess.”

He smirks just a bit. “I’ll take it.”

“I will never call you step dad.”

“Oh god, fuck I hope you won’t.” You both laugh it off a bit, the tension, the unspoken words in the air, as you slip into a soft silence, the two of you busying yourselves now, both trying to ignore it. Whispering in your minds - it’ll be over soon.

*****

One week of staying under the same roof as Satoru Gojo

The amount of stress your mother puts you through is unreal, when Satoru is there at least she puts on enough of a show not to do too much in front of him, as to appear perfect. You went out with a few friends for the night - a much needed getaway, and free drinks - sounds like the perfect remedy for dealing with her bitchiness.

You wish you just had some extra money for a hotel, but you just paid all your bills and pay day is a couple days away. As soon as that came in you were going to just grab a hotel for the last couple of days - they are stupid expensive with the holiday right now, but anything was worth leaving her as quickly as you can.

Stumbling in, your mother eyes your clothes with disdain. “You look like a slut.”

You snort in laughter at that, opening the fridge and grabbing another drink out, the seltzers you bought to knock out at night when you had to hear her and Satoru fucking. You crack it open and sit on a chair, crossing your legs that are well revealed in the dress that does barely cover anything. You look hot as fuck though, you already know it.

“Says the woman who had like an entire frat run a train on her in her forties?” You raise a brow, and your mom smacks you right in the face, you smile nastily at her. “Ya mad your ass can’t wear this shit anymore?”

“You’re a stupid little bitch, everything I did for you - and you turn out like this?”

“What, work for a living? A degree? How’d I turn out so bad.” You swipe your cheek then, and her gaze drifts across you with cold eyes - the same color as yours, but they just have no fucking soul to them.

“The biggest disappointment. You could have had a modeling career, but now you’ve let yourself go.”

“Let myself go?”

“Remember how you looked senior year?” You shrink back at her nasty words, biting at your lower lip then, you try to act tough but it’s difficult at times to not let old insecurities hit.

“I was starving because of you.”

“Exaggeration, my god. I did that so you could look your best.”

“My best, huh? I think I look hot, so you can suck a dick. Where is Satoru, by the way? Can he shove one in your mouth?” You smile as your mom gasps, and that’s when the door opens, and you hear Satoru’s footsteps on the floor, still rubbing your stinging cheek as your mother instantly puts on her front.

“You’re a little bitch.” Your mom whispers, yanking your drink out of your hand then, slamming it on the table. “What a waste of your looks, down the drain.”

Usually your mom would stop when Satoru got here - perhaps your saving grace was that. But as he walks into the kitchen, his snowy lashes blink in confusion at seeing her. You catch his eye over her shoulder, smiling then. “Why don’t you fuck her so she’ll be in a good mood again?”

Your mom gasps as you take your drink back, standing and getting away from her overwhelming presence, taking a breath and acting ‘normal’ while Satoru’s gaze drifts across your outfit slowly. You feel every inch of your skin caressed by blue eyes, like he’s touching you.

You can’t think that way, even if she’s a bitch.

“What’s wrong?” He asks then, setting down his jacket, your mother finally seems to notice he’s there, putting on a pretty pout and batting her lashes.

“Just her being mean to me, Satoru.” She walks up to his arms, and you laugh then, so loud you’re crying, swiping tears as you truly feel you’re losing it, seeing her run her long red nails across Satoru’s chest as he looks at you.

There’s too much in the look.

“Maybe if you get dick in your mouth you’ll shut up.” Your words earn your mom’s mouth wide open, while you stretch, knowing half your breasts are fucking out, your thighs fully revealed in the short, tight skirt, hoping to piss your bitch mom off more.

It’s petty but.

It works.

You bend over to snatch two more drinks up, and Satoru has trouble tearing his vision from the sight, picturing bending you over and cursing himself for it. Your mom is whining to him, bitching about you, but your evil little smirk towards him and her turns him on more.

“I’ll be gone tomorrow night, then you won’t have to see me again mommy dearest.”

“I know you didn’t just call me that.” Her affronted tone just makes you giggle, drunk honestly, even more, walking back to your old room - her pageant trophy room - and sighing then, leaning against the door.

You can act as if you’re not hurt by her words all you want, but they hit and they hit deep, hearing the quiet murmurs of her and the man you’re fast desiring far, far too much. You slide down to the floor - you’ve talked endlessly about how your mom never loved you to your therapist - but it still feels like shit, not that you think she could love anyone but herself.

After downing your seltzers, you’re thoroughly drunk - something you haven’t been since freshman year of college, when you go out into the quiet kitchen, in search of a bottle of water. You tense when you see a shirtless Satoru, his strong back illuminated by the soft light over the stove as ice clinks into a glass. He turns his head, catching sight of you before you can dip back to the room.

“Hey.” He usually has something snarky to say, but that’s all he manages, turning toward you and leaning on the counter, you try to avoid your gaze on his body, on the light trail of hair under his flat belly button - but you’re too drunk to avoid it.

“You get her off enough? Maybe she’ll be okay tomorrow.” You murmur, and his jaw tenses then, while you walk up, stumbling just a bit when you get to the fridge, one of his hands dart out to your arm, wrapping around it gently. You pause, eyes darting up to his.

“You all right?” You scowl, yanking your arm out of his hold.

“What do you care for?” Your whisper is angry, he sees so much anger, and though he doesn’t exactly know what was said, hurt was written all over your face.

“Can I not care?” He asks softly. You scoff, looking away.

“No, you can’t.” He sighs now, sipping his drink as you bend down, grabbing another drink instead.

“You shouldn’t have more, you’re torn the fuck up.”

“Oh, thanks dad.”

Satoru scowls now. “Don’t call me that.”

“No?” You’re annihilated, he’s absolutely right, removing the barrier you have put up for him, fingers drifting up his chest, bare and hot to the touch. He tenses, as your fingers drift down over his abdomen, and you step closer. “Should I call you daddy?”

Satoru scowls, thin brows deep over his blue eyes, and his cock is throbbing under his sweats, he wills it to go down, feeling like a horrible fucking man. He couldn’t get hard for her tonight, not when every time he was touching her he pictured her daughter instead, pictured how tight and slick he bets your cunt is, pictures your perfect tits in his fucking hands.

“You’re drunk and stupid, sweetheart.” He grips your wrist, as you quietly giggle, and you look far too hot, drunk mess and all. “You’re too drunk to know what you’re doing.”

“I know what I’m doing, Gojo. I just hold back when I’m sober.” He exhales, and your eyes dart down, raising a brow when you see a far too impressive bulge. “Need to go fuck mommy some more?”

“You’re a brat.” He whispers, pressing you against the cold steel of the fridge now, a thigh pressing between yours, and your heart races. His proximity has you dripping wet in moments, the strong thigh between yours, his breath ghosting over your lips as he bends down. “Touch me again like that and see what happens.”

“Gonna spank me, step dad?” He pins your wrists right over your head, muscled thigh pressing up against your overheated cunt then. Your eyes roll back, you’re too gone to act like you don’t want him, arching your hips up and earning his soft little moan, as he rests his head down on yours.

“Shut the fuck up, you’re… just shut up.” He whispers, a desperate, needy little voice now. “If you weren’t… If I wasn’t…”

“What, big man? Can’t finish a sentence?” You roll your hips again, he feels you soaking him, he can’t stand how badly he wants to slip his cock inside you then, lift your right on that fridge. “Don’t wanna make mommy mad, do we?”

“I can’t stand you.” His lips are a centimeter from yours then, and your breath catches. “Need me, don’t you? Cunt is soaking wet.”

“It’s n-not.” He smirks, letting your wrists go, you shove at his chest, when he pulls back just a bit, gripping your chin.

“It’s not?” You shake your head and he pulls back his leg, looking down at it. Your entire body heats up as you see it, the wet spot darkening his light sweats. “What’s this then, hmm sweets?”

“N-nothing.” You look down in horror, when he swipes it with his thumb, leaning forward again, silvery white locks falling over his forehead then.

“Nothing?” You nod, and he swipes that thumb over your lips, moaning as they’re coated in a gloss, while your cunt throbs around nothing, aching for his touch.

“Mmm, fuck, why do you have to look like that?” He whispers, lips leaning close again, his hands on your hips, your nails slip up his side, contemplating leaving marks for your bitch ass mom to see - hating yourself for it.

“Go back to bed, mommy will miss you. Go fuck her.” He glares even deeper, just looking far too attractive when his lips brush against yours barely, before there’s a noise and he immediately backs away, as do you, heart pounding. What the fuck were you even doing!? “I’m drunk.”

“Yeah, you are.” He whispers, fists clenching as he huffs, turning and pulling his cock up into the waistband of his sweats, annoyed as shit by your laughter. “You’re such a brat.”

“Am I, or are you just wanting to fuck a mom and a daughter? Didn’t you get off enough al-”

“I can’t fuck her, okay?” You blink a bit at his declaration, you scoff, rolling your eyes. You won’t believe him. “That’s your fucking fault. I’ll be glad when you go.”

“Good, so the fuck will I.” You shove at him now, and he hates the hurt on your face. “Don’t want you, creepy old stepdad.”

“Old!?” You smile, mean and nasty, only making him want to fuck that expression right off your face. “I’m not your fucking stepdad.”

“Sure you’re not.” You pat his bare shoulder, walking past him now, barely able to breathe when you walk back into your room, leaving him cursing, eyes shutting tightly when he leans against the fridge, heart racing.

Satoru Gojo has never hated someone until you, for fucking his brain up and whatever morals he does have. He’s by far not a cheater and never has been, but all he can picture when your mom sucks him is you instead, shutting his eyes and pulling on hair that looks just like yours. He hates whatever the fuck you’ve done to him, and how bad he feels for telling you he wants you gone.

He does want you gone so things go back to normal, he can be the milf fucker he’s always been, he can live his life and fuck away all his problems with the career he’s been shoved into. But laying next to her that night he’s staring at the ceiling, wondering what you taste like.

******

One day left staying under the same roof as Satoru Gojo

You and Satoru have avoided each other completely, you work and come home, packing up the few things you have left so you can stay with a friend who’s offered you to come with her for the next few days. It was tiny and cramped there, but anything was better than staying here, and not just because your mom is an evil bitch who loves to trash you every moment.

It was him, the reason you wanted to leave so fucking bad.

“Should you eat that, honey?” Your mom says, so fake sweet as you nibble on a candy bar, you didn’t eat shit at work so you instantly busted out a snickers.

“Should you fuck men half your age, mommy?” Your mother glares, and Satoru overhears, though he stays in the hall.

“He’s not - also your ass is just looking really big in those shorts, you know.”

“That’s good, I like it.”

“Your hair looks oily.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

Your mom scoffs again, snatching the bar and throwing it out, and you glare up at her. “I just care about you. No makeup, you dress like shit, and you’re munching on a candy bar? How much further do you want to let yourself go?”

“I work for a fucking living, I don’t make money off fucking men and having them take care of me. So back the fuck off. I’ll be gone in the morning.”

“Thank god, Satoru can’t stand you.” You blink a bit then, wishing that didn’t hurt as much as it did. You could handle her trashing you in every other way, but the man that you can’t rip your fucking mind from actually hating you stung.

“Huh?”

“He can’t stand you, and you’re not going to come between what I want. I see you, looking at him.” She tilts your chin up then. “You think you’d ever get a man like him? That’s funny. Maybe before, when you were still competing. Now?” She laughs, and you feel tears running unwillingly from your eyes. “Not a chance, so stop dreaming about him.”

“You don’t know shit.” You smack her hand off you. “I’ll leave now.”

“Go right ahead-”

“Hey, what’s for dinner?” Satoru walks out then, and your mom pauses. “Who’s cooking?”

“She’s leaving.” Satoru checks his Rolex on his wrist then, frowning.

“It’s nine already, buses aren’t running. Why not wait till the morning?”

“Because she-” your mom puts back on her airs now, smiling so saccharine and fake. “No, you’re right, Satoru. She should stay and eat some dinner.”

You scoff, since the bitch just threw your only food for the day in the trash - but you do get paid in the morning, and it would be more convenient to just stay. “I’m not eating with you. But I’ll leave in the morning. Good night mommy dearest.”

“I swear to-”

She’s cut off with you shutting yourself in again, laying on the bed and shutting your eyes, wishing her words didn’t cut so deep like knives, stomach growling. Even later when you smell food you don’t come out, until a soft knock is on your door, and you finally drag yourself out of your bed you’re just rotting away and crying in.

“What do you want?” You say softly, looking up at the tall man - who really should wear a fucking shirt - in the doorway.

“You should eat something.” He murmurs softly, you sigh, shaking your head.

“I’m not hungry.” Your tummy inconveniently growls, and he frowns now rather than an amused smirk you’d expect.

“You should eat.” He repeats, shocking you when he grips your hand in his, bringing you out to find he’s set a plate aside for you.

“I don’t need you to feed me.” You nibble while standing, cutting up a piece of chicken however, chewing thoughtfully as he watches you, far too intensely. “What, are you gonna just watch me?”

His heart aches for you then, having overheard her. It all fits with the conversation he had with you in the back of the car, the pressure she had you under all made sense. He’d only seen glimpses of it, her cruelty toward you, but they’re glaringly apparent. When she’d tried to fuck him earlier, and brought you up, he couldn’t do anything with her, thanking god she went to sleep early.

He needed to see you.

You were so clearly not okay from her.

“Stop acting like you care.” You murmur then, nibbling another bite, not even sitting at the seat before you turn away.

“Finish eating.” His commanding tone is far too fucking sexy, in fact all of him is - and you could almost forget about last night, in your drunken haze, but the problem is you remeber it vividly, tasting your arousal on your lips.

“You don’t tell me what to do. I have a dad.” He laughs without humor then, shaking his head and leaning low, pressing one hand on the wall, lifting your chin with the other.

“Stop acting like I’m even close to old enough to be your dad.” You bite your lower lip that trembles, you inhale that hundred dollar a spray cologne that’s haunted your fucking senses all week.

“You fuck my mom, so.” Your little glare hits him so good, your mean little words that just make him more obsessed with you, picturing you constantly. He’d jerked off in his office just remembering your heat against his thigh today - simultaneously feeling horrible and the inevitable pull of you, intoxicating like the liquor he’d drunk to just lay next to her last night.

He can’t get hard around her - not when you’re in the next room.

“Does that make you mad, that I fuck her?” He asks then, your scowl deepens, teeth clenched as you shove at his chest.

“Why would it?”

“Seems like it bothers you,” his fingers brush your hair back, goosebumps rise on your skin, tummy clenching with the hot desire. “Seems like you’d want me inside you instead.”

“Ah, you wish, conceited ass of a man. I don’t want you.” You’re lying through your teeth, and it’s like he knows, the blue eyes seeing right through your fucking bullshit. “You don’t want me either, so stop fucking with me.”

“I don’t?” He’s close, too close, you shove him away then, shaking your head, her words ringing in your fucking ears.

He’d never want you

Out of your league

You’re nothing

Maybe they did still get you, words you’d long since stopped giving her the ability to speak. Years of striving for her affection, of wanting to be perfect and win so that you could get just a bit of her praise. The moment you broke free was the best time you can remember, throwing those tiaras away - but you fear you’re just barely a step away from falling back into the sadness that she caused.

Worse is this tall, beautiful fucking man acting interested.

“You would never want me,” his mouth drops open at that. “So stop fucking acting like it.”

“You think I don’t!?” You scoff, walking away now, heading to the bathroom to perhaps put some water on your face, but this fucker follows you in, shutting the door, coming up behind you now, and you see his reflection in the soft lighting around the mirror, see the way he’s looking at you.

“Get out. Stupid. I’m not your milf okay?” You gasp then, as he tilts your chin so that you catch his brilliant blue eyes, the bathroom is too small suddenly, when his chest presses against your back.

"Look at me," Satoru whispers, you shake your head, tears falling. "I said look at me." He tilts your chin to look to the side as he leans over you.

"What?" You whisper through your teeth, trying to be quiet in the dark room, as Satoru’s hand slips down your bare arm, the other arm wrapping your waist, dragging you against his hard body. You whine out softly at it, being pressed against him, before you can stop yourself. When he leans lower, cool breath against your lips.

"You're beautiful, okay? So fucking beautiful..." You shake your head at that, earning his sigh, gripping your chin so tightly you feel his strength, only making the sweet ache worse. "You are. All I can think of is fucking my girlfriend’s daughter on every surface, you know what that fucking does to me?" His hushed, desperate voice makes your tummy clench with desire.

You have tried to fight it, but the resolve weakens every second you stare into his cerulean gaze, words you don’t want to accept. "Satoru... I… mnh!"

“Shh, sweetheart,” he groans now, shaking his head, kissing up your neck as his hand splays your stomach, drifting to your heat, breaths faster and heavier, mixing with yours. "Is it just me? Being fucking horrible?"

You shake your head, crying out softly when he finds your hot cunt over your shorts, soaking the thin fabric of them immediately. He moans so sexy against your ear, as the longing keeps swirling around the two of you. "You're not horrible, I am..."

"No, she's a fucking bitch. I didn't know she... was that mean. I like psychos, but that?” Your eyes shut, ass brushing against his thighs, feeling his hardness press against the small of your back.

“She’s just how she’s always been. Mnh… you shouldn’t.”

“I know I shouldn’t, okay? Fuck, you just take it. Let her treat you that way, why don’t you stand up to her, hmm?” His fingertip finds your clit, pressing up as your head falls back, and his cock twitches, aching to come inside you when you soak his fingers through your shorts, gasping and writhing against him.

"I'll be gone tomorrow. It's f-fine... Satoru, what are you… mnh!” You cry out, he brings a hand to your mouth while you watch your reflection in the mirror, he's taking over every sense you have.

“God you're soaked, so fucking hot, so tight.” He leans down, slipping a thick digit in your tight little entrance, making you scream out weakly against his hand. His blue eyes dilate, in the dark, quiet hushed sighs against his hand mixing with the sound of embarrassing wetness echo across the walls. “Lemme make you feel good, hmm?”

You just nod weakly, so tired of pretending like you don’t want him, entranced by the image in the mirror of him overtaking you, fingers angling up as your juices pour down his hand, you whine out, trembling as he keeps hitting just that spot, the one that makes your eyes roll back. Your ass arches back for more, knowing she’s in the next room and could hear or see fucks you up too much.

Your mommy issues clearly are still prevalent.

After hearing all her loud high pitched moans from this man, knowing all of his attention is on you is addictive, his lips brushing the shell of your ear while his fingers curl in your slick walls, gripping him and quivering. “Can you keep quiet so I can see your pretty face when you cum?”

You nod weakly, his words are destroying you, and any resolve you currently have, any part of your brain that knows this is wrong is gone, you want to cum for him, as he is bending low to angle his fingers deeper. You gasp and bite your lip as he does, as the squelches of your hungry cunt echo in the small space.

His breaths come heavy as he feels your walls, as you feel every line of his long - fuck they’re so long - fingers curling against your spot over and over, thumb pressing your twitchy little clit. “Satoru!”

“Shh, sweetheart,” he’s lost in you, cock leaking precum as he studies your face in the dark reflection, feeling you grip him so fucking good, picturing stretching your perfect little cunt out. “Like this?”

You nod, swallowing as you cling to his bare arms, feeling his muscles bunch as he moves his fingers, you are blinded when he rolls his thumb just right, as his other hand grips a breast under your tank top, brushing against your nipple. It’s all too much, you bite back the moans that threaten to rip from your throat, instead whining out softly, gasping and hiccuping as pleasure waves through you.

You’re soaking his fingers, dripping down them when he leans low, capturing your lips, drinking in your little cries as his fingertips brush your spongy spot, over and over, while you shatter in his hold. Your saliva drips across your tongues as his fingers slow, thumb pressing up your twitchy clit again, while you’re lost in his embrace, his taste sweet on your tongue.

You should feel bad you’re dripping down Satoru Gojo’s fingers, had they been inside her earlier? Would he touch her with them? You wish it all didn’t just make you wetter, more sensitive for him, when he eases them out, sucking them into his mouth now, moaning when your flavor hits his tongue, the filthy thoughts just echo louder as your pussy pulses from the aftershocks.

“Fuck you’re so sweet,” he moans then, turning you and lifting you until you’re spread on the counter, your thighs shake as he presses against you, hard and thick, kissing you with your juices dripping across his plump lips. “God I wanna bury my face between your thighs.”

“Satoru, this is insane.” You whisper, as he’s hungrily kissing down your neck, moaning a little too loud. “Shh!”

“Fuck, maybe she should hear,” his eyes are batshit insane then, brilliant blue almost glowing, long fingers spreading your thighs apart. “All I can think of is you.”

“Shut up,” you’re shaking your head, hands slipping through his silky locks as he kisses down your chest. “Fuck me.”

Satoru blinks at that, when you’re reaching down to touch him, he exhales, hands trembling as they hold you, kissing your lips again and losing himself, cock brushing your soaked cunt. He hears the door click across the hall then, pausing and cursing. “Shit…”

“Shit!?” He covers your mouth, glaring with his snowy lashes lowered over his blue eyes.

“Shut up.” He’s kissing you again, hot and desperate as your mom is calling out his name, you can’t stop the soft whine from your lips. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Shut me up.” His hand lifts a thigh, groaning quietly as he hears his fucking name again, cock leaking so much precum, throbbing so much it hurts.

“Satoru honey, where are you?” He sighs now, and you shake your head.

“Go, I’ll stay for a few.” You whisper softly, he is aching to stay, but the situation at present is horrible, and he doesn’t want you getting hurt because he can’t keep his hands off his girlfriend’s daughter.

“Don’t leave tomorrow until we talk.” He says then, against your ear.

“Maybe.”

“Ugh.” You smile a bit at his scowl. “I’ll be right out, just in the bathroom!”

“Okay honey, I miss you.” You feel sick, watching him walk out, you let out a held breath, thighs shaking, trying to wrap your mind around the fact that he made you feel better than anyone ever has, that you've never cum like that.

Worse, how he had kissed you?

This was some sick, cruel fucking joke, falling for your bitch ass mother's boyfriend. You can't trust him. You know you need to slip out in the morning, to try to forget him and how good it felt to be in his arms.

******

The last morning staying with your mom

You want to wait for Satoru like he asked, but laying there and counting down the moments until you know the buses run, you couldn’t stay.

You can’t do this, even to her, have some sort of affair?

You can’t be the other woman - especially to your own mother, even if she’s fucking awful, the guilt is eating at you. It would be different if it was some petty revenge to her for all these years, if it was just sexual attraction, but you absolutely know it’s way more with Satoru, kissing didn’t feel like that, nothing felt that good, being consumed by Satoru and losing yourself in him.

You’re trying to slip out that next morning, when Satoru Gojo grips you by your wrist, out of nowhere, you look back and his azure gaze is furious. “I asked you to wait for me.” His tone is so hurt, you can hardly stand it.

“Gojo, we have to forget it.” Your broken words ruin him, he’s breathless as he looks at you, two bags slung over your shoulders. “I shouldn’t have.”

“No, why not?” He caresses your cheek, bending over you then, his sweet breath bringing back the memories that kept you up all night, of kissing him back, of his fingers now on your wrist that were inside you.

“You’re hers.” You hear her then, panicking and shoving at Satoru, but he doesn’t move an inch.

“Get the fuck away from him!” Your mom’s words make Satoru chuckle, and the sight of it confuses the fuck out of you, as he looks back at her, raising a brow.

“I’m pinning her to the door and you’re yelling at her right now?” She sputters, your heart fucking races, the heat creeping up your cheeks, burning as she stomps over to you both, furious so clearly.

When you were younger it would have scared you, but Satoru is here, and in the short week, you oddly trust him, feel the comfort, something to be said about it that you haven’t admitted to yourself yet.

“It’s her trying to take what’s mine, jealous of me always.” She grips your hand, your bag falls to the floor as she scowls down at you. “Never show your face here again, leave my life the fuck alone, stupid little bitch.”

“I didn’t-” She raises her hand as if to smack you when Satoru grabs her wrist, she looks at him in shock.

“You won’t raise a hand to her again, she might not stand up for herself when you do, but I will.” He drops her wrist now, raising a thin brow and bending down, picking up your bag for you.

“Satoru baby, you don’t understand all she’s put me through,” she’s trying to be sweet again, crocodile tears dripping down her cheeks, long lashes blinking, her lip is even trembling. She’s always been great at that. “I don’t want to hurt her, but she is horrible to me.”

“I’ve heard and seen far, far too much this week. You are an evil bitch to her, and you won’t get to be anymore.” He shoves her off him dismissively as she tries to cling to him now, then she scowls at both of you.

“What, because she’s younger!? Is that who you are? Some sick game to fuck us both?”

“No, she’s actually just better than you. In every single way, and you hate it, don’t you? That’s just pathetic.” You look down, unbelieving he’s standing up for you like this, your mom lets out an affronted scoff while Satoru picks up his phone.

“You don’t want her, you can’t.” She’s losing her composure, her act, it’s all falling apart as she starts to panic.

What could be worse than you ever outshining her? You’re supposed to live in her perfect shadow.

“Why are you so jealous of your own kid? You got some crazy issues, you know that? Not even hot crazy, either, just a batshit narcissist.” He clicks his tongue, sighing and smiling down at you, with lidded eyes. “Wanna stay at my penthouse until your apartment is ready, sweetheart?”

“What!?” Your mom is blowing a whole fucking gasket - you should feel bad for stealing her man, but you really can’t find it in you.

“Yes, if you really don’t mind?” Satoru grins, those bright white teeth, and picks up his dark shades off the side table, your mom is tugging on his dress shirt, and he brushes her off, looking over his sunglasses at her.

“Satoru I’m sorry, I just… I was acting out too much. It’s her, the problem! Look how happy we were before?”

“I’m sure there are plenty of young men for you out there, maybe younger than me so they are too dumb to see how fucked up you are.” She’s glaring as he takes your hand in his, and you can’t stop the happy little giggle from your mouth as you both leave, and you hear things getting thrown at the door.

“Satoru, that was insane!?” You whisper, he brushes your hair back then, sighing.

“I wanted it to go a little smoother, that whole exchange. But no, of course you were bratty and didn’t wait.” He tilts your chin up and you kiss him, smiling against his sweet, plush lips.

“You’re not step-dad anymore, maybe the appeal is lost-”

“I’m gonna beat your ass.” He’s scowling as you giggle through your tears, when his car pulls up, he hands your bags off to the driver, climbing in and holding out his hand, tugging you in the back. “You do need a good ass beating.”

“I think I had enough mental beatings,” you grumble a bit, he frowns at that as the car revs up, and he tugs you against his chest. “You noticed?”

“Yeah, hard not to. Last night was when I saw how fucking much she hates you, the way she talks it’s just not how a normal person does. I’m sorry you…”

“I’m good. I promise.” You look up at him then, kissing him softly, while your hand slips down his chest, hearing his hitch of breath.

“You can eat whatever you want at my place, okay? Also your ass is very nice.” You blink back tears, mixing with your tremulous smile from his sweetness, and you’re flustered- you’re literally a wreck.

“You heard it all?” He nods, swallowing, his brows together.

“It’s why I came to you. I’m so disgusted that I even…”

“How could you know? She’s beautiful, she knows how to play people.”

“You’re more beautiful than she could be,” he murmurs, kissing you again, messy and hungry in the back of the huge black luxury car, having you straddle him, your mom’s ex boyfriend, feeling his phone vibrating against your thigh now. “I swear if it’s her I’ll have you cum right on the speaker.”

“Gojo!” He’s sighing, his big hands drifting over your waist, when your phone starts going off too, but you’re too lost in his kisses, in his scent, in how good he fucking feels.

“Feel so good on me, fuck I wanna bury my cock inside you,” he is desperate and needy then, feeling your heat against his cock, when you drop to your knees, making his lips part. “Sweetheart…”

“Want your cock in my mouth,” he’s whining out at that, helping you unbutton and unzip his slacks, until his cock springs free, making you gasp.

You knew it would be big, but you didn’t know it’d be that big, a solid nine inches and thick, veins running and wrapping under his shaft from the base to his blushing pink tip. You moan softly at it, soaking wet under your panties from the sight, that clean yet musky scent. Satoru brushes your hair back softly with long fingers, eyeing you down there, making you feel so sexy with just a gaze.

“Want me to suck you down my throat?” He nods quickly, and you do just that, after spitting on his cock and slathering your saliva as the phone keeps vibrating, but his hands are enwrapped in your hair while you look at him under those lashes.

“Fuck, look at you, can you take it all?” He’s taunting, a mix of devotion and talking shit, so intoxicating you can’t take it, tummy full of so much pressure you whine out at the sensations, gliding his tip inside your mouth now, hot and hungry while you taste him. You swirl your tongue on his tip, fingers brushing across the soft white hair right over his cock.

His eyes never leave yours as you move, as he fucks up into your throat, hissing at just how fucking good your mouth feels, how pretty your eyes are as you look up at him. You’re whining out, vibrating around him, while his hands tug your hair into a ponytail, fucking into your mouth harder, harder, you’re slobbering down his cock so messy and filthy how you take him.

“So beautiful, fucking look at you,” you whine at the praise, from his soft lips, which he’s biting and releasing, making the sexiest moans from the back of his throat that drive you to get wetter and wetter. You reach down, touching yourself under your skirt when he yanks your wrist. “No.”

“No!?” You glare, and Satoru smirks, shaking his head.

“I’ll bet the one touching you, licking you- ah!” You’re sucking him again, even as he grips your little wrist tightly, sucking one of your little fingers, so lewd and sexy you can’t stand it, grinding on nothing for friction, as the car comes to a stop, Satoru huffs, yanking you up. “Open.”

You do just that, and freaky ass ‘stepdad’ Satoru Gojo spits in your mouth, you gasp, swallowing it and feeling the need grow so much it’s painful, kissing desperately, hand still stroking his length up and down. “In me, please.”

“Shit, yeah,” he adjusts himself, leaving the belt unbuckled as the two of you ride up the elevator to his stupidly fancy and clean penthouse, once the door is shut he presses you against it, hands slipping up your sides, gripping you everywhere. “Wanna taste you again, fuck…”

“Taste me then, mnh!” He’s on his knees right before you, the way he looks up at you is so intense it takes your breath away, as he shoves your skirt up, lapping a hot stripe up your slick panties, already soaked. “Oh my god, more, more!”

“Demanding little thing,” he teases, stroking fingers up your soppy panties, groaning as he then pulls them down, letting them fall down to your ankles, still clad in those ridiculous combat boots. They’re so hot he just keeps them on, throwing a thigh right over his shoulder, breath ghosting on your bare cunt. “Fuck, look at you, you’re so pretty.”

“Y-you don’t have to say- ah!” Your hands entangle in his silky, silvery white locks, soft as your fingers grip and pull until it hurts, but he wants more.

“Fuck my face, that’s it, taste s’good, mmm,” his whispers against you vibrate against your clit, and you’re screaming out, head falling back against Satoru’s door, as his mouth devours your cunt, so hungry and desperate for you.

His impossibly long tongue makes you furious that your bitch ass mother ever got him in this way, toxic and petty, it just makes you fuck his face more, hips rolling while that tongue plunges into you. He’s licking and stroking between your folds, right up in your hole, straight nose bumping your clit. Your thighs shake, his fingers pressing into them, your gummy walls are convulsing around his tongue.

The sound of him sucking up all your wetness - well he’s trying to, but you’re so fucking wet it’s pouring, his cock is leaking precum - already sensitive from that stupidly talented mouth, and now this? He can hardly remember your mom’s name any more, in fact he can’t remember anything right now, but how he should have been doing this, just drinking your sweetness up down his throat.

Devouring your pretty pussy, pulling your plump, puffy lips apart to slide that tongue in and out of your quivery little cunt as you scream out hoarsely. “Oh my god, don’t stop, don’t stop, please!”

You’re sobbing out his name, panting as he licks and nibbles your twitchy little clit with sharp teeth, making you gasp out at the shock of the pain and pleasure, your nipples pressing against your top, tummy clenching as you feel your orgasm so close. He’s slipped two fingers up inside your hole, looking up at you as his tongue flicks your sensitive clit again.

“You’re so messy, aren’t you baby?” He taunts softly, all you can do is weakly nod, while his fingers now know your spot way too fucking well, pressing up against your g spot while he stretches you hot. “So sweet now, is this what you needed?”

“Shh, jerk.” He chuckles against your cunt, before sucking your little clit into his hot mouth and fucking moaning, making you feel like you’re going to collapse. It’s so good, so fucking good, and you’re so close. “I-I’m gonna, Satoru, oh god-!”

He doesn’t let you go over the edge though, pulling away with a pop of pink lips,covered in your arousal like a gloss. You yelp, looking down at him with a desperate expression, your cheeks flushed, chest heaving. He can’t stop thinking how fucking pretty you are like this, desperate for him, whining and wiggling.

“Why’d you stop!?” He stands now, slipping up your sweater, groaning when he realizes you have no bra on, seeing those tits he’s jerked it to bounce gently.

“Want you to cum around my cock, like a good girl. Can you?” He’s way too fucking hot, it’s actually unfair. You nod weakly, he sighs, cupping your breasts and watching your eyes roll back, his thumbs brush your nipples, already hard and aching for more.

Satoru unlaces your boots, leaving your knee socks and skirt on, you just look too sexy in them, unbuckling himself hastily as you tug his shirt off him. “Please, hurry, fuck…”

“Demanding, thought you hated me not wearing a shirt?” You glare at him, just making him chuckle, before he’s down to nothing, fully naked and gorgeous, as the light streams in through the blinds of those floor to ceiling windows, casting shadows across his perfect form.

“Fuck…” You’re kissing across his chest, when he shocks you, lifting you up like it’s nothing, pressing you right on that door again, the cool wood against your burning hot skin, tip drooling and leaking against your cunt. “Mnh! Please!”

“Need my cock so bad inside you?” You just nod weakly, done pretending or teasing, you’re still throbbing from the way he edged you, and when his leaky tip bumps your clit it almost pushes you over the edge. You’re clinging to his neck, kissing him as you roll your hips, soaking wet and begging with your body.

“In me, g-god, just - ah!” Satoru shoves his cock so deep in one stroke you’re left breathless, blinking rapidly at the ridiculous stretch, so full you can’t think, you’ve never been stuffed like this. Your eyes lock, his are so bright they’re insane, his lips and chin coated in your arousal, holding you by your ass right under your skirt as your legs tremble around narrow hips.

“Fucking feel you, my god,” he’s whispering in wonder for a moment, blinking snowy lashes to try to orient himself, to not cum just from one stroke like some dumb teenager from pussy.

But your pussy!?

“Prettier, tighter,” he’s whispering, and the words itch that toxic, fucked part of your brain, the mix of craving Satoru and the petty part of you that hates her. He can tell too, smirking. “Wetter than her. Feel better, fuck than anyone.”

“Shut up, so full of - ah!” He’s fucking you now, you got that moment to adjust, bruising your lower back when he fucks you against that door with no mercy, thick cock bullying your quivering little walls with filthy smacks of skin and your squishing cunt. “Oh my g-god!”

“I’m telling the t-truth you… bratty little fucking… god she’s so tight, mnh…” Satoru’s lost then, hips bucking up and rolling just so, and he watches your pretty face hungrily. “Cum f’me, all over me, make a mess.”

“Ah!” You’re gushing, just making the sounds in the enormous penthouse you’ve barely noticed louder, mixed with his moans as he fills you up so good, when he pushes deep and rolls those hips, watching you intensely as you cum, his eyes so brilliant blue and fucking starved for you. “Ohmygod fuckfuckfuck!”

“That’s it, fucking you dumb, huh,” he’s groaning, feeling your slick coat him, your mouth in a slutty O when he looks back up, feeling your aftershocks pulse around his cock. “God, baby, you came so hard f’me, bet you never have.”

“B-bet you never… felt pussy this good,” your bratty little whisper makes him smirk, slamming into you and pulling you off the door, you’re clinging to him in shock without the support, but he’s lifting you up and down his thick, lengthy cock like you’re a little fuck toy. “Ngh!”

“You mean better than your mom’s?” You scowl, gripping him tighter with your thighs as he just walks around with your fucking cunt around him, smirking as he lifts and drags you back on his cock again. You’re clinging to his back, nails pressing in and leaving marks.

“Psycho, mmm!”

“Says you, need to know if your pussy is tighter? I already told you, but no, gotta know every part that’s better? You’re so fucked up baby.” You glare, biting the shit out of his lip and earning his moan, as you draw just a little bit of blood, a bright red droplet that makes him grin.

“Maybe I am fucked up.” Your answer makes him chuckle, picking you up again, fucking you suspended in the air as you cling to him, whining. “Feel s’good, so thick mmm!”

“Am I the biggest you’ve had? The best?” He’s whispering, husky and needy now, you could bluff and taunt him, but you just nod eagerly, and he exhales, pulling out with a wet squelch, making you whine. “Hang on to me.”

You do just that, heart racing while Satoru carries you now, and your dark spots fade for a moment, long enough to get glimpses of his gorgeous, expensive ass fucking penthouse, making your mom’s place look like shit when you thought hers was fancy. Everything is spotless, surprising you only briefly when he makes it to his bedroom, tossing you right down on it.

You bounce gently on a black silky comforter, taking several breaths, looking around then glaring. “She fuck you on here?”

He grins at you, nodding and unzipping your skirt, groaning as he sees your hips for the first time. “Fuck you’re sexy,” he caresses you softly for a moment, fingertips drifting down the jut of your waist, the curve of those hips, before grabbing them, looking at your cunt. “All beat up already, huh?”

“Shut it, back in.” He grins, fingering your knee socks and sighing.

“They’re too hot, they stay on.” His open admiration of you makes you feel so fucking good, the way his eyes worship you, leaning low and kissing you again. “So fucking sexy, y’know that?”

“Mnh, s-so are you. But you know already, conceited- ah!” Satoru’s cut you off with a bite to your lower lip, sexy glare on his face now.

“Couldn’t even walk around her house without getting wet for me, could you?” Your glare just turns him on more, while he bends down, sucking your nipple into his hot mouth as you cry out, his teeth sinking in.

“Ah!” He moans, going right to the other. “Y-you wish.”

“Bet you played with your cunt, maybe right next to your mom’s room huh?” You bite his shoulder so hard it makes him moan at the pain. “Shit.”

“Shut it. You wish I did, bet you jerked it thinking of me? Your girl’s daughter, freaky ass-” He’s bit you again on your other nipple, the pain shooting up and making your sore cunt wetter.

“I did,” you blink, so disoriented, eyes now looking up to his in shock. “Yeah, I did, thinking of that slutty dress you wore that night.”

“Shit… really?” He sighs, and before you can say anything else, Satoru turns you around now, bending your ass up in the air, moaning at the sight, the dimples in your back, the way your ass looks, he moans and slaps each cheek, as you whine out, head falling back.

“God, look at this ass, fuck…”

“Prettier from the back than mommy is?” He scowls as you look back and giggle, smacking the fuck out of your ass now. “Ah!”

“You’re so damaged,” he smacks your cunt, you’re just drooling now, eyes rolling back, so ready to be filled by him. “Already told you, prettier pussy, yummier, tighter - gotta hear how much better your ass is too?”

“Mmm! Was teasing,” you whisper, when he slips his cock back inside you, this time so deep he bottoms out in one stroke, you scream out at it, hair now in his hold as he fucks into you. “Gojo!”

“You’re so damaged baby girl, god it’s hotter than it should be,” he’s losing it inside you then, your wet, slick little cunt gripping him even tighter, balls smacking your clit with every brutal stroke, as his other hand grips your ass, marking it over and over. “Feel so much better.”

“Yeah, daddy? Ah!” Satoru’s smacked the fuck out of you again, it stings so good as he slams his cock deep, tip drooling along your cervix. “Oh my god!”

“Stop running that mouth,” he leans over, gripping your throat with one hand, long fingers wrapping it entirely, bent over you with a arm braced on the other side, as his cock is stretching you, feeling so fucking perfect even as it hurts, how big his cock is. “You’re so fucking slutty, huh?”

You nod weakly, as he starts squeezing your throat now, making it all fuzzy and heady, you’re gasping for a breath as he presses on your pulse point, cock pounding you from the back, you’re gasping for breaths as filthy smacks fill his huge room. “Oh, Gojo!”

“Satoru, call me Satoru…” he’s whispering desperately, needing it from you, and you feel his cock thickening inside your slutty, drooling hole.

“Satoru, ah!” You’re lost as he chokes you while fucking so deep, rolling his hips, making you shatter for him, walls quivering around his cock, trying to milk him for everything he has. “Satoru!”

“Wanna fill your pretty little cunt with all my cum,” he whispers, squeezing harder as he hits just that spot, and you feel the pressure in your tummy explode, screaming out as the orgasm hits. “Oh god baby, yes, cum again f’me hmm?”

You can’t not do just what he asks, blinded as he saps your oxygen with his fingers tightening over your throat, you’re fuzzy and dizzy as you scream, the sound hoarse and weak. He’s moaning and kissing you, drool spilling out the corner of your mouth, releasing your throat a bit and just gripping under your chin now. You’re shaking, cunt so wet it’s dripping onto the dark blankets.

“S-Satoru…” you whisper again, making him whine when your head falls back, he’s biting across your neck, groaning. “Feel s’good in me…”

“You feel s’good wrapped around me, f-fuck…” the phone goes off again, in the pants discarded on the floor, and he smirks as he bends down, grabbing it.

“What are you…” Satoru presses that green answer circle, before sliding back in your cunt, psycho grin and dilated blue eyes vivid as you hear her voice. You look at him, covering your mouth as you hear her voice, but he leans down, whispering in your ear.

“Make noise.” You shake your head - you can’t be that fucked up!?

Can you?

“Satoru please, just come back. I’m sorry.” She’s sobbing, her sweet little meal ticket is gone after all, he’s slamming his cock deep in you as you scream into your palm, making him laugh a bit.

“Sorry, I’m not… coming… back that is, hah-” he’s hitting those backshots harder, the filthy sound of your cunt echoing, your eyes roll back, drool spilling on your palm now as you hear her voice in the background.

“She’s manipulating you!? She wants what I have. Satoru- what’s that!?” He chuckles, bottoming out and stuffing you so full your hand falls and you scream out.

“That’s your daughter, god she’s so much tighter than you.” You gasp and glare back at him, only making him hit it harder, until there’s no denying the filthy sounds.

“Oh you are… you both… you’re a whore I swear-”

“Ah!” Satoru’s rubbing your clit, murmuring in your ear.

“Cum f’me again, hmm?”

“You’re insane!?” He grins, and you shake your head, but soon you’re shattering again, earning his moan.

“So, I need to go, gotta get your daughter pregnant.” You gasp again, mid orgasm, as your mother sputters and he hangs up on her, chuckling.

“Y-you… she’s… Satoru!”

“She won’t call again now I bet,” he’s leaning low until you’re in prone position, turning your face and kissing your soft lips. “I wanna fill you all up, baby, hmm?”

“Do you, daddy?” He glares, but his cock pulses, and you giggle, breathless, earning him shoving hard, pulling at your hair. “You like that.”

“Shut it,” he’s moaning as you tighten around him, aftershocks pulsing, as he pictures doing just that, knocking you up. “Beg for it, slutty little brat.”

“Please, daddy,” he whimpers at that, and you bite your lip. “You’re damaged too, huh?”

“Not as damaged as you,” he’s huffing, kissing you as you laugh. “You can laugh? Need to fix that.”

“Gonna teach me a lesson daddy- ah!” Satoru Gojo is so deep you feel him fucking everywhere, making you tremble, as he’s throbbing inside you. “You like it!”

“Shh. Yes.” Your breathy giggle is cut off when he chokes you again, so intimate like this, teeth sinking in your neck now. “Beg for it.”

“Daddy please fill me up - mnh!” You’re both lost then, Satoru won’t admit it but hearing you call him that makes him sensitive, whimpering as he busts deep inside your perfect little hole, your gummy walls grip his cock and pulse around it, while his white sticky load coats them. “Oh my g-god!”

“Fuck, feel her… milking my cock huh?” You just nod weakly, when he cups you under your chin, kissing you messy and desperate, you’re cumming from the warmth, from all that cum pouring down his cock, mixed with your gossamer strings of arousal swirling down his cock, his balls, to the bed.

“Mnh, Satoru…” He’s kissing you deeper, teeth sinking into your lips as you both come down, easing his strokes and softening just a bit, still so thick inside you, making you feel so full.

“You’re so fucked up, baby.” You gasp, glaring now as he eases out. “It’s okay, all your issues? Hot as fuck.”

“You’ve got your own issues then, hmm?” He smirks, pressing kisses along your shoulder blades now.

“Too many to count. Not the only one with shitty parents, sweetheart.” Satoru turns you over now, and you brush a hand across his cheek, sighing.

“Then tell me them all, daddy.” He scowls again, and you can’t stop the grin on your face, Satoru lets you get away with it a bit, because it’s just so pretty to see on your face.

“Can’t tell if you have mommy or daddy issues or both?”

“Mommy issues. You can give me daddy issues though.” His glare is so cute you can’t stop the soft smile on your lips, as you lean up, body reeling from him.

“Should beat you, I swear. I’ll grab water.” You nod, and he leaves for a moment, you lean up, his cum leaking out of you, you search for any part that feels just a little guilty for fucking and stealing your mom’s man.

But it’s not there.

You see a picture of them on the side table then, sitting up and frowning a bit as he comes back, boxers slipped on, a blunt and lighter along with water. “Wanna smoke, sweetheart?”

“You’re corrupting me, step dad.”

“I swear to god stop.” You grin again, as he sits next to you, frowning as you study the photo. “Throw it out.”

“No…” you take his lighter and light the flame, burning the image of your mother and letting it die out in the ashtray, before handing the lighter back to him. “I burned all my sashes and dresses too.”

“Part of me wants to see you in a pageant dress, but the other part knows how much you hated it.” He says softly, watching the picture burn and lighting up a blunt now. “I’d fuck you in a sash and tiara though, nothing else.”

“Would you now?” You tease, he nods, inhaling the smoke, and handing the blunt to you, his perfect body covered in dripping sweat from you. “I may have one I didn’t get rid of.”

“Shit, don’t make it hard again.” You’re straddling him, inhaling the blunt and blowing the smoke into his mouth, he’s gripping your waist, already hard under his boxers, as you two fall into each other, each finding the other’s issues unreasonably hot, both damaged as fuck and honestly morally grey - but you really don’t mind fucking your mom’s ex boyfriend all night until you’re dripping his cum.

Your mom never does call you again - what a shame :’) 

Sooo the pageant mom idea was fromm @huntyhuntycunty , also took inspo from them having met before from @yenayaps ! alsoo ty @blkkizzat for making me motivated to finally finish this hehe I love you girls <3

taglistt- @doulcha @chiyokoemilia @emonaculate @vladsgirlxx @bookished @ureuphoriasworld @rawwrrgal @rousouhouuu @ovela @4evahevah @sugucultfollower @maddy44 @disappointedpeaches @princess-bblgm @astrasworldsblog @nazzysworld13 @gojos1wife1 @selenerium @jkslaugh97 @satoruxsc @thecookiebratz @kaylarilla @ajd1111 @mo0nforme @yoimiyamain2932 @pinkfqiry @plznomonkeys @pandabiene5115 @thelostkira @lushjunkie @mochibunnex @mrsimpurity @coralbae @curlyhairkk @dollieeees @xixflower @ayumilk @leviskittywh0re @nx-0w @mahalsuya @sugarcoatedsoul @afrohani @ineedtofeedmycat @kinnimi @erensfavve @vvaoo

[zaczenemiji]

I really wanted to ask if you could do like a GN! It can be fem too it doesn’t really matter—

The Reader where like Ultraman can transform bigger too but they're more inspired by Mothra (like a mothra suit). I think it would've been like so cute to see Emi go all awe and clingy to the reader because how bright and heavenly they look💕

Kenji gets all jealous seeing his kajju daughter prefer the reader over him a lil bit. tall parents raising baby monster

Emi’s Favorite

Kenji Sato x Reader

Word Count: 1,546

Genre/Warning: Established Relationship, Family Dynamics, Jealousy (very slight)

Author’s Note: Loved this idea so much, thank you for this first request! Emi with a moth mommy ⋆˚ʚɞ

MASTERLIST

Something about your boyfriend changed the night after Gigantron’s “attack” on Tokyo Dome. That night, you were supposed to help him fend the kaiju off but he insisted he’d do it on his own.

For some reason, you were glad you did not join in because (1) their fight became a pursuit in the sky, and (2) you could not zoom in the air the same way Ultraman does. The only reason you’re able to fly is because of your wings—moth wings on your suit, which would put you at a disadvantage in the case of an air chase.

You were supposed to come over to his place that night to check on him because you were sure that the skirmish had caused more damage to his already injured shoulder. However, your calls were left answered by Mina, telling you that Kenji had already fallen asleep.

Deciding not to disturb him, you simply let him be. But in the days that followed, something surely wasn’t right. He couldn’t focus on his games, he looked so fatigued and restless all the time, and oh good gracious, there were now dark circles under his eyes.

He just looks so stressed and you were so upset with the fact that he didn’t want to tell you what’s going on with him. The time he got into a fight with the other players was the end of the line for you.

You barged into his house, finding him by his bathtub, in front of a TV, watching the news about him. The usually peaceful atmosphere in his house was now charged with tension as you made your way towards him. At that moment, Kenji was praying so hard the kaiju in his basement would keep still.

He still wouldn’t tell you what’s wrong. “It’s not about us. It’s about…” he said, “…something bigger. Something I’m not ready to share yet.”

Your eyes softened at his response, though the ache in your chest remained. You made him promise to talk to you when he’s ready and he agreed. You can’t stand seeing the love of your life like that but at the same time, you didn’t want to force him to do anything against his will. Taking up Ultraman was already enough of that.

Almost two months, after the incident, he seemed back to his old shape. Better, even. And thank heavens, finally, he could now tell you about what happened.

“There’s a what below?!” You asked in disbelief. The two of you were standing in front of the elevator and for a moment, you think your ears are playing tricks on you.

“A baby kaiju,” he replied and went on to explain everything. Still in disbelief, you took in everything with a nod. He placed his hand on the small of your back as he guided you into the elevator.

The moment you saw the big pink baby, you gasped. Emi made happy noises as you approached. However, upon noticing you, she suddenly began to cry.

Kenji was tapping on the glass containment in an attempt to shush her. But to no avail, Emi just cried harder.

“I’m sorry, she doesn’t know you yet,” Kenji apologized. “But I assure you, she’s a sweet big baby.”

Remembering how, at first, Emi only recognized Kenji when he was Ultraman, you decided to try something.

“(Y/n), what are you—“ Before Kenji finished, a soft glow enveloped you, and moments later, you emerged in your giant form. Your wings spread wide, shimmering with black patterns and warm tones of yellow and orange.

Emi’s cries slowed, her curiosity piqued by the sudden change. She opened her eyes, sobs turning to soft hiccups as she stared up at you in wonder. Her claws tapped the glass as she reached out, trying to grasp your wings.

Kenji watched in awe as Emi’s distress melted away. “I think it’s working,” he whispered.

“May I?” You asked, gesturing to the lid of the containment unit. Kenji gave a nod of approval. Carefully, you turned it before lifting it off.

You lowered yourself closer to Emi, your wings fluttering softly as she climbed up her containment. The gentle breeze they created seemed to soothe her further.

Emi let out a delighted squeal, her earlier tears forgotten. She toddled closer to you, her claws gently touching the edge of your wing. She let out a happy chirp, eyes sparkling with joy.

Kenji stepped closer, a relieved smile spreading across his face. “Wow, she loves you in this form,” he said.

You smiled down at him. “She’s just like her dad,” you replied. “She knows a good thing when she sees it.”

Kenji chuckled before he himself transformed into Ultraman. He sat beside you with Emi in between the two of you.

Your wings gently enveloped Emi in a comforting embrace. She was now calm and happy as she traced the pattern of your wings with her claw.

“Gentle, baby,” Kenji said as he rubbed her head.

She continued walking around you and playing with your wings until she tired herself out. She walked in front of you and climbed on your lap, nestling her head on your stomach.

“Awww, baby,” you cooed. You gently picked her up into your arms and gently swayed.

Kenji moved close to you, wrapping an arm around you. You nestled into his arm, head resting on the junction of his neck and shoulders. The three of you slept like that for the night.

The next morning when Emi awoke, she immediately looked for you. Realizing that the moth lady was missing, she cried. Mina was quick to assist her, playing videos of cartoons and Kenji to calm her. To Mina’s surprise, none of them worked.

“Who’s making my baby cry?” Kenji asked as he approached. He expected her crying to cease once she saw him. However, that is not the case.

“Huh?” He questioned. Emi always calms when she sees him. “Mina, try showing her pictures of (y/n).”

Mina did as told and as miraculously as yesterday, Emi stopped crying. “It seems like she got herself a new mother,” Mina commented.

With Emi’s growing fondness of you, you found yourself frequenting at Kenji’s house more than ever. She was just so cute; like a live plushie when you’re in your giant form.

“Hi babyyyy,” you cooed as you transformed into your giant form. You scooped her up, her head nuzzling against you. Her earlier play was abandoned in favor of your presence.

You walked in on Kenji and Emi playing baseball together. And you didn’t mean to interrupt but when you saw her walking towards you, you knew you had to transform.

Kenji smiled at the scene. “She really loves you, you know,” he said.

You smiled back, feeling a warm glow inside. “I love her too,” you replied. “She’s such a sweetheart.”

Emi chirped happily as she climbed up your torso and onto your shoulder where she could watch and touch your wings.

Kenji watched the interaction, his smile fading slightly as a twinge of jealousy crept in. His baby kaiju shows a different kind of joy when you’re around.

He loved Emi dearly, but lately, it seemed like she preferred your company over his. He couldn’t help but feel a bit sidelined.

“She really lights up when you’re here,” Kenji said, trying to keep his tone light.

You glanced at him, noticing the slight edge in his voice. “She lights up when you’re here too, Kenji,” you replied. “She loves you.”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know, but… it feels like she’s more excited to see you than me sometimes.”

You tapped the space on the floor beside you, gesturing for him to switch to Ultraman. Thankfully, he did not resist.

You moved close to him as he sat beside you, his hand finding its way to your thigh. Your head automatically rested on his shoulder.

“You’re her dad, Kenji,” you said. “She loves you so much. Maybe she’s just fascinated by my wings right now.”

You felt Kenji nod, although the jealousy still lingered within him. “Yeah, maybe,” he replied. “I just want to be enough for her.”

You leaned back to look at him. Your other hand which was not holding Emi on your shoulder, moved up to hold his face. “You are enough. You’re everything to her,” you said. “And to me.”

Emi squirmed out of your hand, gently jumping off your shoulder and landing on your lap. She toddled over to Kenji. He looked down at her, his heart melting as she reached up, wanting to be held. He picked her up, and she nuzzled against his chest, purring softly.

“See?” You asked with a smile. “She adores you.”

Kenji hugged Emi close, his jealousy fading into thin air. “Yeah,” he said. “I guess you’re right.”

You spent the rest of the day playing with Emi, taking turns holding her and making her laugh. By the time evening rolled around, she was content and sleepy in Kenji’s arms.

Before reverting to your original form, you kissed Emi’s head and then leaned in to kiss Kenji. “I’ll be back soon,” you said. “Take care of our little one.”

Kenji smiled, his earlier worries forgotten. “We’ll be here, waiting.”

Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Kenji oneshots

@scribble0rat

[riddlesrose]

special features

w/ azul, jamil, leona, & malleus

in which he has a certain feature that remind you a lot of nature's creatures, but it's cute. a lot cuter.

a.n; i think jamil kind of does have tiny fangs of some kind, or just longer (??) canine teeth, but take it as a headcanon of sorts. fact, lets call all of these headcanons!

enjoy this while i work on something bigger;))))

azul has blue blood coursing through his veins. the transformation potions he consumes are enough to physically change his body from an eight-legged sea creature to a human, walking on land with two legs, but even with the physical changes, azul is still at home in the sea.

you found out about his blue blood not far into knowing him, but not because he injured himself or told you– no, you had flustered the poor housewarden half to death. his face blossomed into a light blue hue that caught your attention, causing you to point it out.

"i am an octopus at the end of the day, dear. we have blue blood, not red!"

jamil takes caution to deter attention from the two prominent, sharp canine teeth that resemble snake fangs. he's spent years training himself not to smile too wide, not to yawn in public, and definitely not to point them out. he's never been particularly ashamed of them, just takes extra caution to not alarm or startle anyone, especially young children like many of kalim's siblings or his own younger sister.

he's gotten used to them over the years, but when you innocently ask about them, he's suddenly a little bit shy. he pulls the collar of his hoodie over his chin, covering most of his mouth, resulting in his fangs being hidden from your curious view.

"i was born with them, they're nothing special."

leona's eyes slit and expand like a common house cat when he's surprised or extremely pleased. he denies it every time someone brings it up, but he's usually unbothered by the curious looks he gets, as he's use to them. and really, no one would dare piss off a prince. especially a prince like leona.

when you take notice to leona's fluctuating pupils, you realize he's a lot nicer than the front he puts up. he particularly notice he's not so opposed to your presence, his pupils expand a lot when you're around, they quickly slit when someone tries to bug him, and they're dangerously sharp when someone wakes him up prematurely from a nap. but they're always somewhat blown wide when he's within an arms reach, it's almost comical how you didn't notice them sooner.

"one word, and you're banned from savanaclaw, herbivore."

malleus had never realized he's able to purr. not until you came along. he's never had someone he's been so comfortable with, someone he feels so free around. the first time it happened, you were relaxing in his room, content with drawing messy shapes on his hand.

the rumbling had you believing a storm was brewing, but malleus was in a good mood, and the sky was clear of any angry clouds. you were confused until he came closer, attempting to inspect the sky, he gently leant on your back. that's when you felt the rumble that emitted from malleus's chest.

"i simply had no idea i was capable of that, it's fascinating."

masterlist