#men lost in the fog

[blowflyfag]

I wanna see LA Knight in Silent Hill

[bigmonsteras]

maybe he just needed glasses tho:

can't see shit in silent hill

[suguann]

LOVE IT WHEN YOU CALL ME LOVER—JJK MEN.

✎. jjk men showing you how much they love you. | wc. 2k+

tags. fem!reader, window sex, possessive behavior, mirror sex, oral sex, public sex, pregnancy, fingering, praise kink, size kink

featuring. gojo, nanami, geto

masterlist

↬ GOJO

He doesn’t think you’ve looked more breath-taking than you do right then, humming softly to the music on the radio while painting your toenails, the last stretch of daylight kissing your exposed knees through the window. You’re so lost in your own little world that you don’t notice him watching you.

The important emails on his phone go unanswered, saved for another day when you’re not there to distract him. You stretch your smooth legs to inspect your work and glance across the living room to give him one of those soft smiles that sends warmth through his middle.

“What do you think?” you ask, little sunflower yellow toes flexing on the coffee table. 

“They’re pretty, baby.”

Another smile stretches across your face, that full lower lip caught between your teeth. “You think so?”

“Positive.” His phone lies forgotten on the cushion beside him, and he leans back to make room for you. “Come here.”

His eyes make a lazy trail up from your delicate ankle bone to the soft slope of your collarbone that peeks out from one of his t-shirts as you walk towards him, getting his fill until his fingers itch to touch and retrace the invisible path. 

Gojo can’t help it. He’s struck by the sight of you.

He wishes he could trap the shocked and delighted sound you make when he pulls you into his lap, keep it tucked away in the untainted nooks and crannies for him to return to later. A little melody on repeat for the days he feels undeserving of such sweet things, how he treads the fine line of corrupting that wide-eyed innocence you have of the world.

Still. Still, the truth is, he’s a little greedy, and he doesn’t really care how bad of a person that makes him.

Everyone looks up to him in some way. Nobody ever called him a saint. 

Gojo works out more of those soft sounds—pressing you against the chilly, tall windows in the living room, fist in your hair, and his mouth attached to the long column of your throat—that make his mouth go dry. Your back arches to ease the way he fucks up into you, tits brushing up against the glass, and he loves how the distant city lights below shimmer around you like a halo.

A high-pitched whimper, sharp breaths fogging over the window. “‘Toru people can see.”

He doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of how your soft and silky little cunt sucks him in—wrapped up all warm and wet around his cock—cursing under his breath when he tells you he doesn’t care. You’re his, anyway. 

“Let them see,” he grunts into your neck, teeth catching along your skin before licking at the vulnerable spot above your pulse. “Let them see how I fuck you because they can’t have you.”

Gojo can barely control himself at the mere idea that anyone would ever think they could. He’ll be the last and only one to know how you turn into a fucking vice when he hits particularly deep—how you shake like a leaf, legs coltish, after he makes you cum hard. 

↬ GETO

It feels like the epitome of terrible days: from the tomato stain on your skirt to your boss forcing deadlines down your throat and surprising Suguru at work only to find a pretty, willowy brunette sitting on the corner of his desk, her hand resting on a stack of graded papers, and fluttering her long lashes at him. 

The final nail in the coffin (a stupid nail, but a hammered-down nail nonetheless) is how she laughs and touches his arm, and Suguru doesn’t brush her off. He actually laughs back, all perfectly straight teeth on display and eyes crinkling at the corners. One of those heart-stopping smiles stretching across his face that you foolishly thought were all yours. 

Suddenly, you wonder if it was out of obligation that made him compliment you that morning in your dress—look at you, a kiss to your cheek, I’m going to fucking ruin you—a perfunctory greeting after being together so long (like making coffee or picking out paint), to make you feel better, or if he meant it—

A tap with sticky fingers to your cheek. “C’mon, watch.” 

You feel like you’re looking from the outside in, a spectator with a front-row seat that has your breath catching in your throat at the sight of his spit-slick chin and cheeks resting against the crease where thigh meets hip. He gives you a syrupy grin that tightens something in your stomach like a screw. 

“Not me,” he says, words laced with amusement. 

Hesitantly, your gaze trails up from his to the floor-length mirror perched in front of the bed, and what you see has your fingers sinking into the sheets. 

You can hardly pull your eyes away from how your leg looks draped across his broad, muscular back, making you look so small even though you sit above him. And it’s like Suguru knows what you’re seeing because his grin grows wider. 

“See, look how perfect you are. That woman in the mirror is so fucking pretty, I can’t believe I get to tell everyone she’s mine.” His thumb parts you open for his mouth. “Why would you think you look otherwise, huh?”

“I…don’t know,” you whisper, head a fuzzy mess of weak excuses that evaporate before they even have a chance to make it onto your tongue.

“Hm, that’s not a good enough answer.” 

Your hips twitch when he noses at your clit. 

“Awe, I bet that feels good, huh? I’m gonna show you what happens when you talk bad about my pretty baby,” then he sucks it into his mouth, making you squeal.

He can’t blame you for squeezing your eyes shut at the slick, hot pressure dragging through your folds—shaky fingers tightening in Suguru’s long, dark hair. It feels equally like everything and not nearly enough until he suddenly pulls away, taking that jittery feeling in your belly with him.

“Why’d you—”

“If you look away, I stop.” He chuckles lightly at the little pout you give him before his lips suck at the tender spot near the crease of your thigh, “so watch.”

↬ NANAMI

After lunch, he drags you across the street where there’s a park for him to set up a picnic blanket under a tree. Kento rests his head on your lap, slipping an arm around your waist and rubbing the sore spot in your lower back from being on your feet for too long. 

It’s all very innocent: him kissing your round pregnant belly, you running your fingers through his soft hair and talking about the latest work gossip. 

You hum when you feel his fingers crawl up your thigh, slowly at first and with no destination, just soft, aimless circles here and there, until the calloused pad of his thumb skirts over the front of your underwear, making you jerk with a small squeak.

“Kento,” you giggle, fingers tightening in his hair. 

He smiles at the scandalized look spreading across your face and leans forward to press another kiss against your stomach.

"Do you trust me?" he asks, hand pushing up your dress. 

You glance around the park to see if anyone is paying attention to the two of you—an elderly couple feeding the ducks frozen peas by the pond, a mother and father playing with their giggling daughter in the grass, college kids throwing a frisbee, all far enough away to be out of earshot (but that’s not the real problem here)—before you look back at your husband. 

“W-what?” you sputter, wide-eyed realization taking over.

He presses another open-mouthed kiss to your thigh. “Do you trust me?”

A soft whine slips past your teeth, the hand not in his hair curling into the blanket. “But everyone will notice because I’m—I’m—”

(A beached whale. An air balloon. A carnival-sized melon. You get the gist.)

“Gorgeous.” He smooths a hand over your bump, open-fondness radiating across his features, the subtle hint of possessiveness there making you shiver. “You look so fucking gorgeous with my baby growing inside you. Let me take care of you.”

“B-but—”

Everything else melts away to the pulsing heat between your legs and your husband groaning from the wetness he finds there. Your shaky thighs fall open wider when his fingers hook under the edge of your underwear (unflattering things worn for comfort over sexual appeal), pulling them aside to run his fingers through your slick seam. 

Pregnancy brain clouds your judgment, and before you can think twice about your actions, how you definitely shouldn’t let Kento eat you out in the middle of a public park, you nod your head. 

His lips ghost over the tender flesh of your upper thigh. "I need to hear you say it."

It’s a low and shaky yes that has his fingers finally sinking into you to the third knuckle, steadily pumping in and out of you. You buck down onto his hand, trying to bite back the moan threatening to alert everyone in the park of the head under your skirt.

“You’re going to cum for me, just like this,” Kento tells you, voice muffled by a layer of powder blue cotton. “Alright, darling?” 

[portgasdwrld]

★ Hickeys

ೃ⁀➷do they suck (lol) at hickeys, giver or receiver?, how? all answered down below by your beloved Tomie✨

ೃ⁀➷Psss this is a head-canon, take it lightly~

ೃ⁀➷ Suggestive, implied f!reader, NSFW language

ೃ⁀➷ monster trio + Law+ Ace

: ̗̀➛ Luffy

He’s the type to receive them more than to give

When he realizes he has hickeys, he’s just gonna wonder how it’s even possible and if smth hit his neck during a fight💀

Probably gonna bug Chopper about it, until he brushes him off mentioning it’s nothing

Then when you’re making out and you linger on his neck, it clicks into his mind. He yells a « ooohh, It was you! » after realizing that, it surprises you and you almost bit his skin-

He’s down to try it when you explain that you want them on you too

« You want me to suck your skin a little until it bruises? A bit like when you bruise after a fight? »

« Ugh… not the same but you got the spirit? »

He’s dense, but he tried and he didn’t do as bad as you thought

: ̗̀➛ Law

LMAO?? Wouldn’t he be the type to lowkey hit you with a scientific facts that hickeys can kill you if done wrong🤓😭

Ik he would. Im so sorry😮‍💨

On another note, tbh I feel like he’s just sooo into it, when his mind is fogged by lust. He will be making out with you and damn, he’s now leaving wet kisses all over your neck. That itself, just awaken some type of possessive strike and you’re left with hickeys a bit everywhere.

Will quietly eye them when y’all are cuddling after sex. He won’t comment on it beside if you point them out.

“They look great.”

It would be the most reaction you will get out of him. He’s so hot though- intrusive thoughts but they are real 😔

He doesn’t mind at all if you leave some on him fr. Like if it’s done within the right vibe and y’all are just kicking it and you’re riding him or y’all in lotus position, he might even groan and moan a little louder and curse under his breath.

: ̗̀➛ Sanji

Oh his mouth is ALLL OVERR your body. He’s kissing, praising, leaving hickeys all over your body. On you chest, between your thighs, on you collarbone.

He’s almost in a trance while he loves your body and mark it. He’s gotta to enjoy his pretty lover and you bet he’s gonna make it known that you are his and he’s the lucky man who has you!!

He’s so sweet about it, with sweet compliments, but it’s a bit messy too. Wet patches, mumbles from his muffled lips.

He’s SOOOOO down if you wanna do it on him. He gets very excited and can’t stop smiling and touching your body.

“Yes of course I’m down! Wanna try it rn? We got time yk..”

Best boy 🤧

ೃ⁀➷ Zoro

His neck always has some hickeys from you. He thought he hated it, but he quickly got over it and finds it hot now.

He doesn’t care too much if someone stare at them, but he will throw a curse out with a deadpan expression, if someone made a snarky comment.

He also has this possessive strike, so you bet you’re gonna have some type of bruises-hickeys on your body after y’all are done. Because he doesn’t go easy on you, he will be thrusting deep into you, while silencing you with his fingers deep in your mouth. Along with that, his mouth is nibbling on you neck and all your sensitive spots.

It’s an overstimulating mess.

He smirks satisfied when he sees you marked up, moaning his name and completely lost into his touch.

ೃ⁀➷ Ace

Oh, this man here has the biggest possessive strike out of all the men here.

I touched on the subject a little on my NSFW head canon, but he definitely love giving them. He whines when you do, because he’s apparently allergic to shirts and get slightly annoyed when each of his friends on the ship makes some jokes.

He loves that everyone knows you’re his. Because he gets to have one person for him, that actually feels love toward him and someone he can trust??! That’s the life prize!

Every time he fucks you, he makes sure that hickeys are created everywhere on your body.

He will shower you with attention and cocky comments as he sucks on to your skin.

It’s his specialty😮‍💨

[soulren]

Go spend some time on male pattern baldness or male(AMAB) balding forums/subreddits and such. I did after realizing it is happening to me and the ammount of people who truly don't realize how BRUTALLY it tanks people's confidence and mental health is insane.

There's no cure to baldness by the way, and it can start at any time and there's no way to predict how fast or slow it will go. The only real working option is a daily pill that usually just halts it, but it can stop working or just slow it down or cause major side effects. To regrow you have to use a daily topical solution, or use a roller to wound your scalp. None of these are surefire by the way, and if you stop them you'll just lose your hair and whatever you regained. It's a daily involved thing that might not work and often at best just retains. The best drug, the one that occasionaly gives regrowth, also causes shedding at the start, and can have side effects from growing breasts to brain fog to EDsyfunction(sorry, censoring cause tumblr). Now, those are INCREDIBLY rare and almost never happen but it weighs heavily on the mind of those already spiraling.

But that's just background. What I'm here to talk about is the pure woe you'll see on those forums. People speak as though their lives are over, as though they've lost every chance of finding a woman(predominantly, there's a running idea in such places that women don't like bald men or like them less) or doing anything. You can read countless stories of people who describe that they no longer go outside, are now filled with anxiety and self-hate, have gone from extroverted to never showing their face. And some of these people are kids who lost their hair in high school or even before, or are holding as best they can to a very receded hairline and feel like there is nothing they can do.

And then there's something touched upon far less in those communities, but is important to bring up here; baldness and masculinity. There's the horror of knowing so much of society sees a bald guy as a very masculine guy, at seeing that the best advice for being hot and bald is "grow and beard and big muscles bro". Imagine now you're AMAB balding and nonbinary, or a trans woman who doesn't want to be on hormones.

Just genuinely take the time to look at those forums no matter who you are. Understand what these people go through, what I am currently going through. It is soul-crushing, spiraling, brutal. I have the dream of one day being like Brennan Lee Mulligan or Matt Mercer and starting to lose my hair made me feel like I could never. I felt like and still feel like I would have to be masculine, have to be a bro-y dude, have to look older than I was(I'm fuckin 22). It was the feeling that I could never dress feminine again, never present as a woman when I wanted to again, that I'd always be viewed as a bald guy before anything else.

This is an incredibly vulnerable post for me, and I hope it reaches you all as well in a kind and understanding mood. There's a tendency online for people to joke about baldness, to make fun of it, to treat it as a playfull silly thing but it fucking ruins lives, and it shouldn't. It happens to half the population's sort of bodies and very often. It should just be a neutral thing. You don't need long hair to be feminine, you don't need hair to be feminine. You don't need hair for anything. I guess I'm just saying in general that everyone should be kinder about balding, more understanding, and view it with as much import as they'd view the pixels between this sentence and the next. None at all, I mean.

And for those like me, very feminine guys who wanna keep that and don't want a beard and are terrified of balding, here's some names and I do hope others that see this will add more; Mr. Bruce (also in The Correspondents(band) Alex Ward in LA By Night Jason Carl in LA By Night Cecil Baldwin of Welcome To Night Vale Bob The Drag Queen RuPaul(in looks alone, I know about the whole fracking stuff but this post is about looks) tananasho on instagram Also your mannerisms and style of dress will convey femininity far more than your hair. Yea sure a front-on neutral shot of you may not and maybe you need makeup and stuff, and hell maybe a lot of people might reject you more but it'll just filter down to the people for you.

And to all you artists and writers and creatives; make more bald characters. Try it out. Feminine ones, masculine ones, all sorts. None of the copout nonhuman sort, just dudes and girls and mates and individuals who are all sorts of things and also bald. It might make a few of the people going through the various vortexes of pain that balding causes feel a bit better.

And to those noticing I did not adress female hair loss much here, that was intentional. I am AMAB and currently a nonbinary guy who goes by any pronouns but often likes to present as fem. I learned I was possibly losing my hair and lost two months of my life, no work or going or anything, to male hair loss forums and research and spiraling. Checking my hair twenty times a day, unable to sleep, unable to eat, unable to think. And my situation was NOT unique, but it also did not give me any experience or understanding of female hair loss and what AFAB people may go through with that, so I don't feel knowledgeable enough to speak on it. Also living with baldness WILL get easier and you will find something that works for it, by virtue of simply living with it. Things get easier with time.

[fushigowo]

𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓 | 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

⇢ ˗ˏˋ PAIRING: gojo satoru x fem!reader

⇢ ˗ˏˋ SYNOPSIS: the aftermath of yours and gojo satoru’s midterm essay and how your relationship came to existence. contrary to popular belief, gojo satoru is actually the sweetest jerk of a boyfriend you’ve ever had.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ WARNINGS: none!! just some cute fluff and suggestive themes <3

⇢ ˗ˏˋ NOTE: i have finally awaken from my peaceful century of slumber, resurrecting amidst the fog from the land of the dead, and bringing back the fluffiest, tooth-aching, heart-warming set of fluff i have ever written.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ PART I | PART II

1. The midterm essay was a success. However, Gojo Satoru noticed that something is wrong.

You and Satoru were able to score a high grade in your midterms for literature class. It was amazing how the two of you managed to finish a ten-page essay regarding the social context of Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck. However… during the week of working on the essay, of course there were some… other sessions that Satoru initiated.

During the entire week, you felt like you had lost your ability to walk and you’re not even exaggerating.

“You okay, sweetheart? I didn’t overdid it this time, right?” Satoru asks as he puts his shirt on while sitting on the edge of your bed.

“I’m literally struggling to walk right now, Satoru.” You stare at him in disbelief.

“Oops, my bad!”

But that being said, the entire week was a blast for both you and Satoru. Not only you’ve been fucked several times by your beloved, you also earned a high grade from your literature professor and was able to help Satoru in LIT 2000.

After the midterm week, Satoru noticed that you’re back to being the shy quiet student who rarely participates in class again. You’ve also been ignoring him after the week. The white-haired man couldn’t help but feel unsettled about your actions. Because why would you avoid him when you like him so much? And to Satoru, being ignored by the person he admires and likes is no different from being stabbed right through the chest.

Why were you being so distant from him all of the sudden? Why were you ignoring him like you didn’t just spend the entire week together?

Satoru knows that something is wrong so he decided to disturb you when you were studying in the library.

You were busy studying for a test when a loud voice called you from afar; a voice that you knew too well.

When you raised your head to stare at him, the other people in the library were staring daggers at him. Satoru makes his way towards you, ignoring the other students and even the librarian. The white-haired man stops in front of your table and sits across where you’re sitting.

“Hey, sweets,” he smiles. “What are you doing?”

“Studying…?” you said, as if it wasn’t obvious. “Why are you here, Satoru?”

“The question is why are you ignoring me?”

You let out a sigh and ignored his question. You close your laptop and pack your pens and notebooks but Satoru suddenly grip your wrist, making you look at him with furrowed eyebrows.

“What is it, Satoru?” you ask, trying not to make your voice loud enough for everyone else to hear. “Look, let’s not discuss it here.”

“Fine. Take me somewhere more private.”

And that’s how you end up being eaten out by Gojo Satoru in the most secluded part of the library after explaining why you’ve been avoiding him.

2. Gojo Satoru remembers the little details.

After a tiring week, Satoru came busting in your library work to free you from the stress that you’ve been dealing with since… well, since forever, he thinks. But now, he’s here to alleviate your stress (and back pain).

Satoru had plans of dragging you out from your library work but he had to wait for you to finish since library work is an important part of your schedule. After that, he finally drags you out of campus to try the new dessert shop that had recently opened.

“I know you’re fond of sweets because it relieves your stress,” he smiles at you before holding your hand and enters the small shop. “I had to explore places that serve desserts near the campus so I can treat you. Oh, and you definitely deserve a treat after a stressful week.”

Oh… he remembers my rambles during aftercare.

Your heart races rapidly inside your chest, cheeks start to heat at the sweet gesture of Satoru. Like he predicted, the weight on your back of carrying loads of responsibilities and stress was suddenly lifted. It was amazing how Satoru was able to understand you more than you understand yourself. He knows what to say, what to do, and what not to do to lighten your mood.

Contrary to popular belief that Gojo Satoru is a cheating fuckboy, he is actually the opposite. Every one in the campus just see him as one because of how he constantly flirts with every girl he sees. In your defense, you think Satoru is just being nice to them. The nicknames are actually what gives it. He told you that he just likes calling everyone with the nicknames he gives.

“Sooooo… how is it? It’s good, right?” he smiles.

“Yeah. So good.” you smile back.

“You got something on your nose,” he says.

“Hmm? Where?”

“Here!” he yells before coating the tip of your nose with chocolate ice cream.

3. Gojo Satoru understands how your mind works.

You are anxious.

And Satoru can see it.

Sitting on top of the rooftop of your apartment building, you stare at the cityscape with your arms wrapped around your legs and chin on top of your knees. Satoru sits down next to you and asks what’s wrong but you didn’t answer and just continue to stare at nothing.

“Alright. Tell me what’s in your mind, sweetheart,” he says. “Something’s bothering you, obviously.”

“I’m just… I’m scared, Satoru,” you whisper, still not looking at him because of how pathetic you feel. “I’m scared of what might come. I don’t know how things will be for me after I graduate. Like, I know I have plans—big plans—but what if… what if I didn’t—what if I didn’t get to do all those plans? What will happen to me then? What will happen to me if I didn’t get to live the life that I wanted? If I didn’t get to become the person that I wanted to be?”

When you finally had the courage to look at him, your eyes are blurred with hot tears, making Satoru’s eyes soften at your current state.

Satoru doesn’t understand why but he likes it when you’re vulnerable around him. He likes it when you’re not scared of telling him what you really feel and what goes inside your head. Because a person like you, who rarely opens up to anyone in their life, means that you trust him enough to tell these things and to be vulnerable around him.

“I’m sorry, Satoru. I shouldn’t have said tha—”

“Thanks for telling me that, sweetheart.” he smiles before cupping your cheeks, his thumb rubs your soft skin, as if his hands are touching the most delicate flower that he has ever laid hands on, afraid of breaking its petals and ruining its beauty. But Satoru, no matter which state you are in, you are still the prettiest in his eyes.

“I know the future can be… shit and unpredictable but y’know, that’s kinda the exciting part of it. It’s full of… unexpected things; full of surprises; full of ups and downs. But one thing that I’m sure at is you will definitely be the person that you want to be. And right now, you’re doing everything you can to have the future that you want,” he says. “It’s okay to be anxious, sweetheart. Trust me when I say this, you will get the things you want and desire because you work so hard for it. Even if you didn’t get all of what you want, I’ll be by your side to help you. Even if you feel like what you did wasn’t enough, I’ll be by your side to tell you that it’s more than enough, okay? You are more than enough. Now come here and give me a hug.”

You smile at him as you sniff and wipe your tears away before giving him a tight hug. Satoru kisses your forehead.

And what seems like a dream is actually a moment in reality.

4. Gojo Satoru is your biggest supporter and your number one fan.

Upon sitting on your desk in LIT 2000, your professor called your name for you to recite the earlier discussions regarding your lesson last meeting, which was African American Literature. Recently, Satoru has been participating more and more in class which was because of you.

He figured that if his girl is the smartest student in class, then he’d better step up and level your intelligence. Everyone else were surprised except you and your professor. The both of you know damn well that Satoru is a smarter than he looks. But Satoru’s recent constant participation burned something inside you. Every time he speaks, he would look at you with a smirk on his face. It was as if he was taunting you.

Ever since you and Satoru would do your study routine together, his grades were over the top and his participation started to become consistent. Of course you wouldn’t let your smartass boy take the number one rank in literature class from you.

“Yes, Mr. Gojo? Would you like to share your—”

“I would like to answer it, professor.” you raise your hand, surprising the others as well as Satoru.

When you finally stand up from your seat, all eyes are on you as you answer the professor’s question. But it was then followed by another question and another question, and you figured that your professor is definitely taking her time asking you all those questions to make up for the ones that you didn’t answer because of your… shyness. As you answer every question she throws at you, the smile on Satoru’s glossy lips becomes wider and wider as this is the first time he has witnessed you talk in full confidence.

“Yes! That’s my girl!” his loud voiced echoes in the entire classroom, which made you hide your face from your professor and the others because of how… embarrassing that was.

When you finally sit back down, you look over your shoulder and made a face, asking ‘what the fuck was that?’. But Satoru just smiles widely at you and gave you a thumbs up.

You couldn’t help but to smile back at him and give him a thumbs up.

5. Gojo Satoru finally unmasked himself in front of you.

It was the worst of times of Satoru.

However, everyone was oblivious to that thought. Well, almost everyone. To them, Satoru remains the same goofy person that he is even after… losing someone so important to him. To them, Satoru is a big asshole. Why? A big asshole for not even shedding a tear even after losing someone important to him. A big asshole for not reacting the way a normal person would react to a loved one’s death.

How did Satoru react?

Laughing and shrugging everything off. Showing no signs of tears nor sympathy. He just fucking shrugs it off.

“Oh, yeah that! I’m not thinking about it too much, y’know? I’ll eventually get over it!” he smiles. “People come and go after all.”

And people would say to him: “How can you be so insensitive?”

To everyone, Gojo Satoru is a rude, insensitive jerk.

Well, almost everyone.

“Satoru?” you call out. “You can talk to me. I’m right here. I’ll listen.”

Satoru’s back is facing you and you notice how he wiped something off from his face and sniffed before turning around for you to see a wide smile on his face as if he’s not falling apart. His red yet pretty eyes says otherwise.

“Hey, sweetheart! What are ya doing here? Went to see me for a kiss?”

“Satoru,” you mumble. You are definitely not amused. “Stop it.”

“Stop what—”

“Stop whatever this is,” you say. “You keep putting on these faces to make everyone see that you’re okay or unaffected by these events but I know that you’re falling apart, Satoru.”

Satoru’s smile slowly disappear from his face as he continues to listen to you.

“You can cry in front of me. You can tell me what’s in your mind. You can let yourself out of that… that façade of yours and just fall apart just this once.” This time you look at him straight in the eyes. “I just don’t want you to go through this alone, Satoru. I’m here. Let me carry the weight of grief with you.”

And then, Gojo Satoru fell apart… but this time, you were there to pick him back up.

Satoru wraps his arms around you. His legs start to wobble, making him fall down on the concrete along with you. Even though his face is buried on your chest and his arms wrapped around your back, you can tell that Satoru is crying because of his quiet whimpers and sniffs.

“It’s okay, Satoru,” you whisper as you caress his pearl white hair. “I’m here.”

“I lost him,” he whispers, accompanied by whimpers and hiccups. “My best friend… the only one I had…”

For the first time, Gojo Satoru finally unmasked himself in front of you.

6. Gojo Satoru has interesting ways to claim that you are his.

Satoru had invited you in their fraternity party.

It wasn’t the first time that you’ve been in these kinds of party. Your best friend invited you to come with her before but that was the last time you went to one because of how uncomfortable it was for you. Your best friend told you that she’ll stay by your side the entire night but once the both of you had entered the party, she was already chugging down some beers and partying with the other students, leaving you no choice but to sit and hide in the corner.

But this time, you had trust in Satoru that he’ll never leave your side because you already told him why you don’t come to these kinds of parties anymore.

Now, you’re sitting next to Satoru, talking to some of his friends and some freshmem that tagged along. The freshmen—Kugisaki Nobara, Itadori Yuuji, and Fushiguro Megumi—are actually fun and nice to hangout with.

This is the first time that you’ve enjoyed a party.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Satoru leans closer to your ear for you to hear. “I’ll go grab us another beer. Don’t talk to anyone you don’t know, ‘kay? I’ll be right back,” he says before kissing your temple and stands up from where he’s sitting.

After a few minutes of waiting for Satoru, you felt uneasy so you left your seat to go look for him. Since he was getting drinks, you figured he'd be somewhere in the kitchen where you encountered someone you don’t know. The guy was probably drunk since he can’t seem to walk straight and has a bottle of beer in his hands.

“Hey, pretty, what are you here for?” he asks, making you back away.

“Uh—I’m just—I’m looking for my—”

“Hey, sweetheart! What’re you doing here? I got us some drinks!”

Hearing your boyfriend’s voice made the fear and panic jump out of you. When you saw him through the doorway, you immediately sprint towards him and wrap your arms around his waist.

“And I thought she’d be available in bed,” the guy mumbles, making Satoru furrow his eyebrows and the next thing you knew, the guy was beaten up pretty badly and your boyfriend was kicked out of the party and the two of you spent the night driving around the city, looking for the perfect spot of the city lights where you and your boyfriend can feel like you’re on top of the world.

7. Gojo Satoru loves your drunken state.

When you told Satoru that you’d be out drinking with your friends, he asked each and every one of them to text him if you ever get drunk. He doesn’t want you to take an uber or have your friends take you home, he wants to be the one doing that so he is sure that you are completely safe.

And that’s what your friends did.

When you finished two bottles of beer, you were a complete mess and god knows how much of a mess you are when you’re drunk as hell. The moment that your friends realized that you need to be taken home is when you started to cry about how much you miss your boyfriend and kept asking why your friends took him away from you.

So when Satoru got to the street where he’s supposed to meet up with your friends and you, he didn’t know what he was seeing. You were throwing up in a trash bin like you’re about to transform into a fucking werewolf.

“How many did she drink?” he asks.

“Five. She was… enjoying,” one of your friends replies.

“I can see that,” he chuckles before taking you in his arms. “How worse was it?”

“Not worse than before. All she did was cry and whine. Anyways, our ride will be here soon. Take good care of her, Gojo. We trust you.”

“Yep. Thanks for looking after her!”

Satoru waves to your friends as they get inside the car then turns his gaze on you, clinging onto him like a koala holding onto a tree.

“All right, sweetheart. Let’s go home, yeah?”

Oh, you were drunk as fuck, alright. You can barely even walk so Satoru decided to carry you like a newly wedded wife. But your sniffs and whimpers stop him in his tracks to check up on you.

“You okay, babe?” he asks. You nod and wiggle yourself to get out of Satoru’s grasp to make yourself walk. You told him you can, so he let you. Now you’re wiggling and can’t even walk a straight line while your boyfriend chuckles from behind.

“All right, that’s enough,” he says before holding you again.

Satoru cages you closer in his embrace, feeling your warmth and breathing the scent of alcohol in you. But your instincts suddenly kick in, so you shoved Satoru over before yelling, “I have a boyfriend, mister! His name’s Satoru and he’s gonna beat you up if you touch me!”

“Oh? Who’s your boyfriend again?” Satoru tries his best not to laugh.

“Gojo Satoru. And he’s not gonna be my boyfriend anymore after this,” you say.

“Why not?” Satoru raises an eyebrow.

“Because I’m gonna propose to him and ask him to marry me so he can be my husband,” you chuckle. “So don’t touch me! I need to go home to him!”

Satoru lets out a laugh, almost loud enough to echo in the quiet streets an hour after midnight. His shoulders shaking up and down as he amuses himself at the things you were saying in your drunken state.

No wonder you don’t drink much when you’re out with Satoru. You don’t want him to see you in your drunken state yet this is a side of you that Satoru wants to see. Yes, he knows you’re an introverted woman who is secretly a very horny one yet comfortable when it comes to people she’s close with, but this is something that Satoru has not yet seen. He doesn’t know if he’s going to record you or just let this be a memory in his mind. He chuckles to himself and figured that this is something that only he knows and he witnessed.

“Oh, that won’t happen, sweetheart!” Satoru hugs you behind your back, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“Why not? Is he dating another person? Would he say no if I propose to him? What if he says he doesn’t want me to be his wife?! What if—”

“No! That’s not what I mean,” he chuckles. “That’s not gonna happen because… Satoru will propose to you first. He will ask you to be his wife and if you say yes, the two of you will have a cozy home and a sweet, little family, full of small Gojos and a pet too.”

“You think he’s gonna propose to me?” you ask.

“Oh, he definitely will,” Satoru smiles before wrapping his arms around you again to take you to his car. “Now let’s take you to Satoru.”

8. Gojo Satoru loves hearing you read to him.

Aftercare with Satoru is almost similar as being in heaven. His kisses, his rambles, his praises, the way he takes care of you, the way he whispers sweet nothings to you is the same as floating on Cloud Nine.

But this time, you wanted to be the one to take care of him, too.

“I love you so much, baby,” he whispers before kissing your temple. “I’ll make you a hot bath, okay?”

Just when he was about to stand up, you call out to him, making Satoru look over his shoulder.

“You can just stay here with me, ‘Toru. Let’s stay in bed for a while, please?”

And how can he say no when you’re giving him those doe eyes that he can’t resist?

So when you told him to get back on the sheets, Satoru didn’t hesitate to do so. With a large smile on his lips, your white-haired boyfriend settles himself on the bed, his arms wrapped around your back and his face rested on your chest, you being the big spoon and him, the little spoon.

“Read to me, angel,” he whispers. “Wanna hear your voice.”

“Okay,” you chuckle. You stretch your arm to get the book on the nightstand on your side of the bed. “Where did we stop—Ah, here.” You settle yourself wrapping your other arm around Satoru will the other holds the book.

You clear your throat before reading, “‘I want to make Romeo jealous. I want the dead lovers of the world to hear our laughter, and grow sad. I want a breath of our passion to stir their dust into consciousness, to wake their ashes into pain.’” As you read the passage from Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray, your fingers caress Satoru’s soft, white hair while the man feels himself slowly drifting to a peaceful sleep.

“YN?” he calls out.

“Hmm?” you hum in a low tone.

“I’m so glad we got partnered at that midterm essay.”

You chuckle before leaning closer to him. “I’m glad too, ‘Toru…”

9. Gojo Satoru gets along with your cat very well.

“Tada!”

“Uh, babe? What am I looking at?”

“His name’s Tooru! With double O’s!” You smile as you hold your white, Persian cat by its armpits, showing its full glory to your boyfriend. “He’s so white and fluffy and he reminds me of you, so I named him Tooru but it’s spelled with double O’s.” You nuzzle Tooru in your embrace while your boyfriend processes what’s happening.

Did you just replace him with a cat?

“Did you just replace me with a cat?”

You didn’t answer him. You didn’t even bother looking at him since you’re too busy baby-talking your new cat, Tooru. Satoru can’t deny that Tooru isn’t cute. In fact, he is the most adorable cat he has seen, but the now that you’re giving attention to your cat rather than him, he couldn’t help but be—

“…jealous? Satoru, are you jealous of Tooru?” you ask, almost bursting out in a laugh.

“So what if I am?” he pouts. “You obviously love him more than me! You only had him for, like, 4 hours and you have me for three years!”

“Come on, don’t be so immature, Satoru!” you chuckle. “Tooru deserves much as love as you get. Oh, and can you play with him for a while? I’ll make us dinner!”

You stand up and kiss Satoru on his cheek then kiss your cat all over his face before heading toward the kitchen. When you finally disappeared from Satoru and Tooru’s sight, your white-haired boyfriend glances at your cat like it’s about to steal the love of his life—which he actually thinks is happening right now.

The bored expression of your cat’s face as it stares into Satoru’s cerulean blue eyes makes him even more pissed because what are the odds that the cat has the same color of eyes as his? Your cat is the cat version of Satoru and he hates it because he is the only Gojo Satoru in your life. Immature, yes, but almost nothing is ever taken maturely by your boyfriend.

But since you came to love Tooru so much (but not much than you love him, Satoru thinks), he realizes that it would make you happy if he gets along well with your cat.

“Fine.” Satoru sighs. “Hi, Tooru! Aren’t you adorable?” your white-haired boyfriend attempts to caress Tooru’s soft fur but was taken aback and shrieked when Tooru’s claws swiftly attacked Satoru’s hand.

“Shit! What the fuck, Tooru!”

“What happened?” you run from the kitchen to the living room only to see your boyfriend’s arms crossed and your cat curled up at the corner as if a father is scolding at his child.

“Babe, Tooru just—”

“Oh, my poor baby.” You didn’t take a glance at Satoru and made your way to Tooru to caress him in your arms and pull him in a hug. “Satoru, you know better than to yell at our child! He’s just a kid!”

“Are you serious right now?”

It’s been weeks since Tooru came home with you and since then, he has been ruining yours and Satoru’s relationship. It’s as if the cat has a manipulative mind of its on to sabotage Satoru. And every time Tooru successfully does so, Satoru swears that his cute, little tongue sticks out to mock your white-haired boyfriend.

Now, you’re packing your bags to go visit your family for a few days. Satoru has to stay since he’s finishing his graduate studies in Language and Literature so your boyfriend has no choice but to stay with your cat that he cannot get along with.

“Alright, Tooru, your mom’s gone which means I’m in charge.”

For the next few days, Tooru has done nothing but mess with Satoru. But it wasn’t until your white-haired boyfriend finally figured something out when he bought a laser. He read somewhere that cats can be played and tamed with lasers and catnips and a ball of yarn so that’s what he did.

Satoru realizes that you cut Tooru’s claws before going so he won’t get a chance to claw him out. The more Satoru gets closer to Tooru, the more Tooru gets comfortable with him. So when your boyfriend thought it was time to buy another bed for Tooru, he bought the most expensive one since he thinks your cat will soften with him if he buys something expensive.

But that wasn’t until the package finally arrived but then Tooru decided to make the box of the package to be his shelter instead of the expensive one that Satoru bought.

“God, what would I do with you, you little devil.” Satoru chuckles then rubs Tooru’s head before picking him up in his arms. Satoru sits on the couch and opens the TV, your cat is now purring on his stomach. “Heh, your mom will be home for another hour now. And, you won’t be staying in our room for the night.”

After spending the night waiting for you while watching TV, Satoru fell asleep with Tooru still purring on his stomach, leaving the TV open. The dim light of the screen is the only source of light surrounding the apartment but it wasn't until you open the door and flick the light switch on. You were greeted by a sleeping Satoru and Tooru so you had to hold your excitement back in order to not wake them up.

My boys are so cute!

You cheer before taking a picture.

Needless to say, you had the photo put in a picture frame.

10. Gojo Satoru realizes that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.

Satoru stirs awake from his sleep, his eyes start scanning the room, still engulfed with darkness with no rays of sunlight coming from the windows. The white-haired man glances at his sides to check the digital clock next to him, sitting on the nightstand. It’s already ten minutes past 3AM.

His gaze travels back to your side of the bed. There you were, so deep in a peaceful slumber as you lay on your sides, facing Satoru. He pulls the sheets of the bed up to your chest before letting out a soft chuckle. Satoru knew you were tired as hell after last night’s session since he couldn’t control himself.

His slender fingers caress your soft cheeks, your warmth traveling to his fingertips like lightning striking the grounds of the earth that sends shivers down his spine. Satoru leans in closer to you and gives you a delicate, gentle kiss on your forehead, his lips feels like petal gently touching the ground as he gives you his kisses.

“I love you,” he whispers.

Gojo Satoru couldn’t help but look forward for tomorrow and rest of the days, of the months, of the years that he will be spending with you soon. He looks forward to waking up every morning when the first thing he will be seeing is your face, he looks forward to spending peaceful days with you and Tooru, and he looks forward to spending the rest of his life with you.

From the moment Gojo Satoru enters your life, his goal from the very start was to marry you, and that’s what he’s going to do.

FUSHIGOWO © 2023 | REBLOGS, LIKES, AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED ♡

[transform4u]

The Jerk Virus

In the dim recesses of your computer screen, a new presence begins its silent, insidious invasion. It starts as an unremarkable flicker, an anomaly among the ordinary bustle of your digital life. You barely notice it—an offbeat shimmer in the corner of your eye. But soon, it’s there, unmistakable. Green words, flashing in a neon rhythm that pulses like a heartbeat. “BRO”, “DUDES”, “GOTTA GET STRONG”—the text ripples across your screen, a virulent whisper that promises nothing but muscle and might.

This virus, cloaked in the guise of mundane digital banter, begins to worm its way into your system. It infiltrates your files, embedding itself within the sinews of your operating system, a creeping corruption that spreads with deliberate precision. Its code is a serpentine entity, a malicious force that distorts and reshapes as it progresses. It’s not just a code; it’s an infection of identity.

With each passing moment, the virus draws closer, its tendrils curling into the core of your being. The green words evolve, taking on a more aggressive tone. “GET JACKED”, “CHUG BEER”, “LIVE HARD”—the phrases pulsate with a fervor that seeps into your consciousness. Your mind starts to change, memories transforming into flickers of biceps and frothy beer mugs. Your once-familiar world now thrums with a new, invasive energy.

As the virus advances, the corruption becomes palpable. Your thoughts start to skew, aligning themselves with the virus’s malevolent intent. Your soul, once a bastion of nuance and individuality, begins to erode under the relentless bombardment of masculine imagery. The virus doesn’t just alter your data—it begins to rewrite the very essence of who you are.

Images flash across your screen: muscular figures flexing with brute force, men in beer-soaked revelry, their laughter echoing in a deep, primal tone. These images are relentless, flooding your senses, distorting your perspective. They become your reality, their influence inescapable.

You attempt to counteract it, but the virus’s grip tightens. You find yourself drawn to these images, your own reblogs and interactions becoming mirrors of its power. With each click, each share, you feel an inexorable shift within yourself. The corruption is no longer confined to the digital realm; it bleeds into your very soul.

More images flash across your screen with a relentless rhythm: muscular figures in mid-flex, their biceps bulging with a raw, unfiltered power that seems almost tangible. The sheen of sweat on their skin glistens under harsh lights, their poses exuding an intoxicating, unspoken confidence.

These images are unyielding, flooding your senses with an unrelenting barrage. They are not mere pictures but invasive forces that distort your reality. Each frame is a blunt hammer striking at the walls of your mind, reshaping your thoughts and skewing your perspective. The boundaries between your own self and the images on the screen blur until you can no longer distinguish where one ends and the other begins. Their influence seeps into every corner of your consciousness, rendering escape a distant, impossible dream.

You try to resist, to shield yourself from the onslaught, but the virus’s grip tightens with a suffocating embrace. Your mind starts to fog, clarity slipping away like grains of sand through clenched fingers. Thoughts that once held complexity and nuance now become tangled and sluggish. Cognitive pathways that used to connect ideas and reason now slow to a crawl, overridden by the virus’s relentless push. Your once-clear intellect becomes a foggy mire, muddled and hazy.

As you scroll and reblog, each interaction with the corrupted content intensifies the transformation. The virus exerts its influence with every click, each share drawing you deeper into its grip. The once-sharp edges of your thoughts round off, becoming blunt and simplistic. Conversations that once sparked with wit and insight now dwindle to banal exchanges, their depth lost to the digital corruption.

Your life outside the screen starts to shift, mirroring the changes within. Social interactions become less nuanced, driven by a newfound desire to conform to the viral ideal. Hobbies and interests that once defined you fade into the background, overshadowed by a compulsive fixation on muscle and masculinity. Your days revolve around gym sessions and beer-soaked gatherings, a reflection of the virus’s insidious mandate. Relationships with friends and family become strained, their attempts to reach you falling on deaf ears as you become more entrenched in the virus’s vision.

The transformation is total and irreversible. Your life rewrites itself with the virus’s narrative as its guide. Where once you were defined by a rich tapestry of interests and complexities, you now exist as a caricature of the virus’s ideology—dumbed down, muscular, and unwaveringly straight. The screen that was once a portal to your thoughts has become a mirror of a new, homogenized reality, one in which your former self has been subsumed by the relentless green glow of corruption.

And then, it happens. You hit reblog, condemning yourself to your new life. You feel your essence unravel and reshape itself into something new. The virus has succeeded in its conquest: you become the embodiment of its viral ideology—dumb, muscular, and straight. The screen that once held your thoughts now reflects a new reality: you, now one with the virus’s purpose, stand tall in a world of brute strength and simple pleasures, the essence of your former self lost in the green-lit haze of this new, unyielding identity. So tell me bro, who did you become?

[onelittlespiral]

FML: Sealed

The plan was simple, if time consuming. Rent some apartments out, and wait. Of course, there were some preparation required. First, buy an old apartment building, something not too expensive and not too flashy. Make some small changes to the central air system and temperature control. Bring the whole thing up to code and install a beautiful, in building gym. Hire a team of savvy young women to help manage the apartments. Then, carefully and selectively rent out the one bed, one bath apartments to single, young men who showed promise. Some were just graduated 20-somethings, with a bright future ahead in STEM careers. Some were trust fund kids moving to the city for the first time, drawn to the quickly gentrifying downtown. Some were just personal pet projects that I wanted to see grow into their potential. Like this fellow:

I wanted to see what would happen on a bit more of a bear-ish body type. We set him up in Unit 514. Or this bro:

He was already pretty close to what we wanted our final results to look like. But I wanted to see how much we could push him. Unit 112, low and close to the gym. Good eye candy for some of the twinks we set up on the sixth floor. After about 3 months, every unit in the building had been filled, all eight floors. It was the first of June, around 4 a.m. when we had verified all residents were home. The overnight receptionist was sent home early for the day as upstairs, all door locks were remotely engaged, power was cut, and the new air conditioners kicked in. All subjects were sealed in their experiment chambers.

Slowly but surely, a thick fog billowed from each bedroom’s vents. It was a thick, sticky vapor, smelling like sandalwood and cool like peppermint. Subjects’ rooms were soon filled as they began breathing it in deeply. Some began to toss in their sleep, subconsciously fighting the mist, while others just huffed away and began the absorption process. One fellow on the second floor managed to toss himself awake, but was quickly sedated by an extra pump of vaporized melatonin added to his room.

As the men all settled down and opened up, the mist began absorbing into their bodies through any gap available: mouth, nose, pores, cocks, and asses. Within thirty minutes, the last of the gas has been administered, and all subjects were once more peacefully at rest. Bodies began twitching and pulsing as faint moans emitted from some of the smaller men’s mouths. The experiment had began.

The first to wake up in the morning was a subject in apartment 211. His transformation was among the more subtle. The lanky guy had put on a few pounds of muscle as his beard thickened and some hair grew in. He immediately began to sense something was off, as he felt his body and now bushy beard. He tried to check his phone. Dead. He gets up and tries to walk out into the apartment. Locked. A look of confusion sets in as he sits and tries to think of what to try next. That is when it catches him. With the power out and the sun rising, temperatures were rising. And as he began to sweat, he began to smell:

The gasses that seeped in last night were slowly beginning to seep back out, causing more radical changes. But this second exposure is different. It is coming from inside him, and carries his unique pheromones with it. This gas is heroin to him, designed to addict his body to its presence and slowly bring out the best in him. And as the smell fills his nostrils for a second time, he is fighting the urge to give in. Give into himself and what he is becoming. He knows that the smell is rancid, musky and earthy with notes of spice that burn his nostrils. But it is a lost cause. As he huffs away at his own funk, he glides his free hand down his chest, feeling thick, matted hair and slick abs. He takes a moment to feel his muscles twitching and stretching as his skin becomes sensitive to the touch. He wraps his sweaty, calloused hand around his cock, and begins to pump.

Once he begins to pleasure himself, there is very minimal risk of a reversal. The changes are rapid and extensive his body grows to match the smell that now saturates the air around him. Muscles swell, bones crack and reshape, feet stretch, and his eyes roll in the back of his head as he starts to drool. The fog settling into his brain leaves no room for inhibitions as he starts to self worships his pit, devouring his own sweat. Our scanners also begin to detect deterioration in brain activity. The pleasure center is growing, eating into non-essential regions like memory and comprehension. No part of the original subject is left unchanged as he continues to evolve into a sweaty, smelly, hairy beast of a man. And as he reaches climax, he lets out a deep roar as all inhibitions about his new form are shot out the swollen mushroom tip of his cock. He rolls his foreskin back up and shoves his filthy cock into a pair of sweatpants.

He stares at his body, flexing and feeling up his muscles. Experiment 211 has been a success, able to turn a scrawny nerd into a horny, sweaty, smelly gym bro with an insatiable need to fuck. Now we just need to test how powerful his sperm and scent are. He hears a click as his chamber is unlocked. We pulse the lights in the room with a code his mind will understand. He now knows his mission is to go over to Apartment 212 and begin round two of testing…

It is a bit later in the morning now and subjects all around are beginning to wake up and face their new reality. Through our camera network we watch as their transformations are slowly taking place, as muscle, fat, and fur are packed on and a cloud of musk begins to cloud the room.

And slowly as men finish their first rounds, their chambers are unsealed. They begin to wander and find their neighbors, mixing musks to help each other grow and change even more.

The experiment will run sealed off from the general public, at least until new subjects are needed to collect additional data points. Interested parties are encouraged to apply now to our waitlist. Otherwise, we expect to host an open house next month, with all subjects free to leave the complex and continue experimenting as they see fit. I can already tell that our friend we started with in Unit 514 will be popular.

Thank you for your time today. We expect to see you again very soon.

[seresinhangmanjake]

What Comes at Night

Feyd-Rautha x Atreides!Reader

Summary: Your heart broke the day your brother stabbed Feyd. You spent weeks believing he was dead. And even though it turned out that he survived and the two of you are now together again, nightmares of the day you thought you lost the man you love haunt you. Feeling him is the only thing that provides any comfort.

Notes: Feyd is soft…again. I just like it, idk. Same Feyd x reader from The Harkonnen’s Sweet Thing and The Harkonnen’s Claim. *Can be read alone. 

Warnings: some smut, so 18+

Words: 1000

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist

You can hear it—the splitting of his flesh from the knife penetrating his ribs. You can hear the drop of his blood that drips off of your brother’s blade onto the floor. You can hear his breaths getting thinner after he collapses. 

Foreign hands are everywhere; Fremen men holding you back from reaching him. Their fingernails are cutting into your skin, drawing lines of red down your arms and legs as you struggle to free yourself. 

Then suddenly, the floor dissolves beneath you and your legs sink into the sand of Arrakis’ dunes. The men disappear, your brother disappears, the emperor and his daughter disappear, and now it’s only you and him trapped in the dunes that begin to move up and down, ebbing and flowing like the stormy seas of Caladan. And like the sea, the waves are carrying him away, stealing him from you, and you can’t even attempt to save him because the sand has swallowed you to your waist. 

You can barely see him. Only hints of his black armor show. He's being pulled under, drowning in golden grains, and a couple of his fingers twitching is the last you see of him before he disappears completely. 

He cannot hear your hoarse voice calling for him. You can barely hear your hoarse voice calling for him. Sand is seeping into your ear canals. It brushes your lips and crusts the edges of your nostrils, sticking to the snot brought on by uncontrollable tears. You try to take in some oxygen, just a little, but then you wonder why because you’ve already lost him and you’re about to lose yourself. 

With a blink, the sun has set, and the underlayers of the dunes turn numbingly cold. You don't think of freeing yourself, you think that maybe surrendering is the only way you can be together. A kick flutters within your belly but you don’t care. You’re done. You’re weak and you’ve lost. You can’t save anyone, so you let go. 

Hands are on your face. You detect a voice, but the thick fogginess clogging your ears keeps it far away. “Wake up!”—Is that what it’s saying? Your shoulders are shaking, head bobbing back and forth from a loose neck. “Wake up!” Yes, that's it. It’s cutting through the fog, pulling you to the surface, but then you realize you aren't breathing quite right. You're still choking on gritty sand as tears stream down your cheeks. 

“I’m here. I’m here, ok?” the deep voice says. “My love, look at me,” it says, but you can’t, won’t. It’s a trick. A lie. If you open your eyes, it’ll break your heart because he’s not here. He’s with the dunes. 

The hands tip your head forward and a soft pressure meets your forehead. “I’m with you,” you hear. 

You fight the grip around your wrist. Fingers pry open your hand so that it is no longer clenched in a fist but flat and pressed against heated flesh. A thump pounds under your palm. Once, twice, and once more. 

“Feel me,” the voice demands. There’s another thump. Another. You gasp and your eyes open to find blue irises searing into yours. “I'm here,” Feyd says. 

A sob leaves your throat. “More,” you whimper.

“Ok,” he quickly nods. “Ok. More.”

He carefully pushes you onto your back and eases on top of you. One of your thighs is nudged wide, and then the other. His hand pumps under the thin sheet covering your bodies. He hardens. The tip peels apart your folds, and then you’re full. So full. 

You wrap your legs around his hips and secure your arms around his neck, squeezing every bit of him to keep him close. Then he kisses you because you need to taste him and he knows that. He knows that it’s the final piece to start bringing you back to yourself.

“Move,” you mutter into his lips. So he does. Dragging out and then thrusting back in, allowing you to feel each inch, each vein of the column. His hand slides down your body, from breast to waist to hip and he cups your bottom, holding you more firmly against him.

His motions continue at the perfect pace. A well-practiced pace. The exact pace you need. Little electric shots spark in your brain and the coil tightens in your belly. He moans as you bite into his shoulder and you love that sound because it throws you right over the edge. 

You taste blood as you come. And then he comes. And then lips are dotting around your face and jawline. 

He doesn’t pull out. There’s no pulling out—not in these moments—because pulling out means emptiness. Pulling out means a void of space where he’s missing and you’re left wanting, and you don’t do that here. Here, you don’t want for anything because he gives you everything. 

He lets the heavy breaths between you settle before he rolls onto his back, taking you with him so he can remain snuggly inside of you. Your head rests on his chest as he runs his fingers down your spine. 

“Same one?” he asks and you nod. “They’ll stop; I promise. Just give yourself time, my love.”

“I’m trying.”

“I know you are,” he tells you, and you believe him. You believe him because he had nightmares of his own during the weeks you were separated. Servants told you he would go on a rampage after waking and seeing that you weren't in his bed. Nothing was spared, from furniture to slaves, and you weren't surprised. Fear does many things to the heart and mind. It makes one feel powerless, and Feyd does not handle that feeling very well. So, in some ways, you suppose you're lucky. At least when you wake, he's beside you. He's here to calm you down. But his presence has yet to soothe your unconscious. 

“I love you,” he whispers against your hairline. “You know that.”

It's a statement not a question, but still, you answer, “I do.”

---

A/N: @midnight-serendipity thank you for requesting this <3

[cntloup]

Medieval AU implied prostitution, homelessness, some foul language, punching and throwing around poor reader :(

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

You feel everything start to fade away. The sounds are muffled and your vision is blurry. Though you can still make out some words, “Whore!”... “Wench!” and such.  

You feel light-headed and dizzy as you’re thrown around and countless flying punches land onto your face and body.  

You can sense the metallic taste in your mouth become more and more unbearable and start to get nauseous from all of it, the severity of the pain and swirling around too much. 

Until you begin to feel numb. There's no pain anymore. And you can sense yourself slowly drifting into unconsciousness. 

But suddenly, everything stops. There's no punch or being thrown around anymore.

You don’t notice much as you lay still on the ground, but you can see the large figure hovering above you through the blur.

And that’s the only thing you see before you fall unconscious. 

----- 

You wake up surrounded by warmth, something you haven’t felt in a long time and a delicious smell you can’t exactly put your finger on. 

You slowly blink the drowsiness away and are met by an unfamiliar room. 

You push back the several blankets that are stacked on top of you and shuffle out of bed. 

You start to walk towards the smell, groggily and confused by your surroundings through the fog in your brain, from sleep or the numerous punches you took to your head, you don’t exactly know. 

You walk into the kitchen to meet someone with his back to you, facing the pot above the fireplace. That must be the source of the delightful aroma. 

Bits and pieces of scattered images start to come back through your memory and you wince from the sudden sharp pain in your head. 

“You should rest. Go back to bed. I'll bring you some stew.” he says in a deep voice without turning to face you. 

And you remember. The large figure you saw yesterday... was it yesterday? You must have lost track of time. 

He must’ve saved you from the crowd of savages who claim themselves men of God but are surely the embodiment of the devil. 

“Thank you.” you say, your voice weak from the hoarseness of your throat. And that’s the only thing you say since you still feel weak, also you can sense that he is not much of a talker and you wouldn’t want to be a nuisance. 

“No need to thank me, love.” he responds, still in the same deep voice but softer tone. 

‘Love?’ you ask yourself, surprised of such sentiments from such a man. But you can’t deny that it does indeed make you feel a little bit fuzzy. 

It's been a long long time since any man has shown you any kind of affection, even the smallest bit, let alone save you from some heartless monsters and take you in his home, give you shelter and food. 

They always only care for their own pleasure. They even go as far as to wreck their own home, their family, only to get just a little bit of taste of that forbidden fruit. And you offer them just that.

But you are most grateful to this kind man. Whoever he is. And you won’t take it for granted.

ik i already have so many wips but i'm gonna start a series for this one since i'm obsessed with medieval au rn :')

[talaok]

A little favor

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem! reader

summary: You fucked up a trade and want to make it up to Joel

warnings: smut | dub-con, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected p in v sex, virginity loss, daddy kink, a touch of dacryphilia, dumbification, and a bit self insert

"I'm sorry" you sobbed "I'm so sorry Joel, I swear I didn't see them and when I did it was too late and- and I'm sorry I didn't run in sooner" you were out of breath "I'm so sorry"

Your face was drenched with your own tears, even the sleeves of your shirt were in similar shape.

You had fucked up

Once again, one might add, but that's not the point.

You were supposed to keep guard as he traded some things, you didn't really know what, he never told you what, or anything really.

He just brought you with him and stuck you outside to look out for FEDRA people.

That's how it had been for the past month,

And this time,

it went wrong.

The FEDRA people had in fact come, and you hadn't noticed them until they were practically in front of you.

It was a miracle you had gotten out of there alive

as for the other guy, the guy Joel was trading with... well, he hadn't been so lucky.

And so now here you were, sobbing on his - your- bed, because you had made a mess again, and he had to clean it up.

"I'm sorry"

God, did you never get tired of saying that?

"y/n" his deep voice interrupted your sobs

You looked up at him, or at what you could make out of him from the glassy fog your eyes had become.

"It's fine sweetheart" he raised your chin, settling in front of you.

Another tear escaped your eyes, and you sniffled

"but-" you bit your trembling lip "I was stupid- I was- I was inattentive"

"you should be mad" your voice cracked

But you knew he never did, get mad, and if he did, he certainly didn't let you see it.

You had no idea why, or how, all the men in your life before him (which were just two, your father and your ex-boyfriend) would get mad at the littlest thing, from you spilling some water on the precious - worthless-coffee table to you not understanding something as quickly as they wanted you to.

You weren't the smartest of the bunch, never were.

"at least she's pretty"

that's what everyone always said,

at least she's pretty,

at least she's not gonna realize you're insulting her even when you do it right in front of her, she's not gonna be an engineer but at least she's gonna find a man to take care of her.

"men don't like it when women are smarter than them anyway"

Every single phrase, every word was engraved in your brain,

in your tiny little brain, a mantra you repeated over and over, until inevitably, it became the truth.

It still amazed you how diffrent he was though,

You expected it, at this point, to be called stupid and worthless for the tinies mistake, but he had never as much as raised his voice.

He had never called you names,

he had never laughed at you, or made fun of you, or treated you like you were used to, like you were supposed to.

"I'm not mad"

"why?"

"it was a mistake" he shrugged "it happens"

"it happens a lot to me tough"

"well that's fine" his voice was warm "everyone's diffrent"

You still couldn't wrap your head around it "why are you so nice to me?"

He smiled "I like you"

"b-but I'm-" you avoided his glare "I'm-" you didn't even know how to say it,

how to describe how useless you actually were

"Baby it's fine" his thumb stoaked your cheek.

"what about the cargo?" you asked, raising your head again

"We lost it"

"I'm so sorry" another sob "it's my fault"

The room fell silent

"Can I do anything?"

You saw something happen behind his eyes

"really" you urged " Is there anything I can do to make up for it?"

"I can look for other contraband" you suggested even though both of you knew you had no absolute idea where to look for it "I can-" you were already out of ideas "I can cook dinner"

God that was stupid

He smiled and you wanted nothing more than to be invisible.

"Please tell me what I can do" other tears fled your eyes

"Please daddy"

Shit

You instinctively covered your mouth

You didn't mean to, it had just come out.

You were scared to look up at him, to see the amused grin he would have on his face as he made fun of you in his mind,

but as you wiped the tears off your face, glancing up at him, the only thing you did see, were his eyes darker than you'd ever seen them before.

"I'm sorry" you whispered "I didn't mean to-"

"don't apologize"

"b-but-"

"There is something you could do" his thumb was tracing your jawline as your eyes sparked with excitement

"Really?"

His lips twitched into a grin

"What?"

"well" he was looking at you differently than before "you could do me a little favor"

"anything" you immediately answered, making him chuckle.

"it's more of a personal one" he explained, moving some hair out of your face "more... physical"

You frowned, confused, and he took one of your hands to slowly place it on his crotch.

Oh

"I've never- I've never done that before"

"I can teach you"

You looked up at him, your big eyes hiding under your lashes.

You really wanted to make up for your mistake.

"ok" you murmured

"good girl" he said, as a strange heat pooled between your legs "undo my belt" he ordered, and you looked at him hesitantly before obliging, your nervous fingers fumbling with the buckle for a moment before you were able to undo it.

You looked up at him for approval and he only nodded, urging you to keep going.

So you did, you undid his zipper and slowly pulled his pants down.

Something hard was straining against his boxers, you could see the tent that had formed.

"Don't be scared sweetheart" he reassured you, and you gulped as you timidly pulled his underwear down.

Oh wow

It was big,

not that you had any means of comparison but it definitely looked big.

He must have noticed your eyes widening because he said "don't worry baby, I'll go slow"

You nodded, hesitantly taking it in your hands

"w-what do I do?" you asked, looking up at him, and you felt his member twitch in your palms.

"oh baby you're so precious" he groaned, and you genuinely didn't know if it was a compliment or not.

"you just have to open your mouth,"

You did it

"just like that baby, perfect" he praised

"and put it in"

You looked at his threatening dick and then at him, fear clear in your iris.

How was all that gonna fit?

"It's gonna fit" he read your mind "don't you trust me?"

You did.

You trusted him more than anyone.

And so you did it, you widened your mouth even more, and took him in, looking at him questioningly once your lips were wrapped on not even half of his shaft.

He groaned nonetheless "that's good baby, you can move now"

You did, you started experimentally bobbing your head up and down, and according to his heavy breathing, you seemed to be doing a fairly good job.

"hollow your cheeks for me baby"

You obeyed and were rewarded with a loud groan

You looked up at him, your eyes evidently asking -is this good?-

“That’s good” he breathed, his hand going to the back of your head “that’s good baby, keep going”

The room filled with a lewd noise as your lips and chin soaked with saliva.

You forced yourself to take more of him in, but your jaw was begging you to stop.

You tried to lean away but his hand didn’t let you.

“Go deeper baby”

You peeked at him worryingly

“You can do it, sweetheart”

“Don’t you wanna make it up to daddy?”

You hummed in agreement around his cock,

of course you did.

"then be good and choke on it"

you could feel your heart beating in your ears, but you ignored it as you did what he said, taking all of him in, until his tip hit the back of your throat, making you gag softly.

A tear fled your eye, but this time it wasn't because of an emotion, it wasn't fear or patheticness, no, it was just reflexes, and for once, you liked it.

"that's it" he breathed "that's my good girl" he said, and you found yourself involuntarily rubbing your thighs together, desperate for some friction.

"fuck- that's it baby" he hissed as you kept moving your head, careful of every movement "that's it- keep going"

" 'knew you could take all of me baby" his fingers grazed your chin, as his eyes somehow darkened some more "do you think you could take daddy inside of you?"

His hand left your head and you leaned away

"inside?"

wasn't this already inside?

He seemed pretty inside to you.

"yes baby inside"

he leaned down to get closer to your face.

His fingers found your bare thighs, and danced until they were at the hem of your skirt

"do you think you could take me in your pretty pussy?" he explained better, and your mouth gaped open in surprise,

the real surprise was that your jaw was still able to do that after all that work.

"but-"

"be a good girl for daddy" you felt his digits get under your skirt as he breathed against your mouth "it's just a small favor"

"I've never-"

"I know baby" he pushed you onto the bed "But don't worry, I'll take care of everything" he promised, crawling on top of you "I'll take care of you"

he kissed your neck, a whimper fleeing your mouth "I'll make you feel really good" his quick hands freed you of your shirt and bra before you could even register it, and just after a few moments there went also your skirt and panties.

He hissed as he took you in.

"You've got such a pretty body sweetheart," he said as he kissed it all over "wish I could just stare at it all day" it tickled when he kissed your belly "touch it all day" he murmured against your skin "fuck it all day"

You whimpered as his mouth got inches from when you needed it the most, but he leaned away, taking off his own shirt and stepping out of his pants.

"so pretty" he mumbled as he used your legs to bring you closer to the edge of the bed.

He spit onto your cunt and you hissed, the cold sensation taking you by surprise.

His finger slipped between your folds, coating his digits with your liquids.

He groaned "such a pretty pussy baby"

"here" he drew his finger towards your mouth "taste yourself"

You could feel your cheeks color, but you did it nonetheless, tasting yourself around his finger.

He grinned at the sight "good girl" he hissed as he retracted his finger, and used the hand instead to position his dick at your entrance.

"stay still baby" he grabbed your hip, and you froze.

You could feel his tip graze at your entrance and it both excited you and terrified you.

You shut your eyes, biting your lip, bracing yourself for the inevitable pain.

"no look at me baby" he urged "keep those pretty eyes on me when I'm inside you"

"o-ok" you whispered, and he smiled

"god you're such a good girl" he said, as finally, he pushed himself in, or better, his tip in, and as you felt like a volcano had just erupted inside your body, you winced loudly in pain.

"I know baby" he cooed

no, you don't

You felt a tear travel from the corner of your eyes down to your temple.

He kept going, making you gasp in pain again, your hand gripping the sheets.

"It's-It's too big daddy" you cried out

"no it's not" he didn't give your pleads importance as he kept going, slowly but surely "You can do it, baby"

"I- I can't"

"yes you can" he stated "be a good girl and take it all for daddy"

"b-but it hurts" another tear

"it's gonna feel better after" he promised "trust me"

"daddy" your voice cracked as a sob came through

"come on sweetheart you almost did it"

" 's too much" you cried

"sh- sh- sh" he shushed you wiping some tears off your face " do it for me baby " he said, "you said you wanted to make it up to me"

"I-I do"

"then do" he cocked an eyebrow, and you nodded, sniffling.

"good girl" he praised, as he took your waist and with one harsh move, thrust fully into you.

"see" he admired his cock so deep inside of you "knew you could do it" he smiled at you before retracting his hips, briefly noticing the blood on his dick, and then slamming it back in.

"oh my god" you moaned

"fuck" he grunted " got such a tight pussy baby," he said, developing a rhythm as weak shocks of pain mixed with overwhelming ones of pleasure.

"knew it would be good" he kept talking through labored breaths "just like you sweetheart" he grabbed your hips more harshly as he slammed into you mercilessly now "always so obedient" he purred " so good for me"

"knew you'd take me well"

"knew you'd have such a perfect little pussy"

He bent down and to your surprise, he kissed you, messily and sloppily, but heavenly nonetheless.

"daddy" you whimpered, your back arching against the bed

"It's like it was made for me" he grunted " just designed to have only me in it" he hissed "to be mine"

"is it mine baby?"

"y-yes" you nodded, all the pleasure fogging your brain "it's yours, daddy- all yours"

He kissed you again "and what about you?" he asked, his hips still working like it was his life-long duty to slip you in fucking half "are you mine, sweetheart?"

"yes" you whined

"You're my good girl?" his hand found your clit and you gasped, a breath getting stuck in your throat "you'll do anything I want you to?" he asked, "when I want you to do it?"

"yes daddy-yes"

"that's my girl" he smirked, as you felt a weird pressure form in your stomach.

"so if I tell you that I wanna come inside you're gonna let me right?" he asked breathlessly "because you're my good little girl and I can do anything I want with you?"

"mh-mh" you nodded mindlessly

"that's right baby," he said "I can feel you're coming"

"your pretty walls are squeezing me"

"do you wanna come?"

"yes!" you moaned "yes please daddy "

He crashed his lips with yours "then come all around me sweetheart"

[forsworned]

Okay, okay, hear me out . I neeed a y/n sweet innocent thing who works with 141 (probably computer shit) idk but she wanted to step out her shell & goes out drinking with the boys were she loses a bet with soap & he makes y/n wear a skimpy outfit like those " hot nurse or maid" outfits around the team for a day and it makes price and/or ghost go absolutely feral . The end. Please and thank you p s love your writing.

Author's note: You know normally I do not do these sort of requests because I think that the whole like oh y/n needs to dress in something slutty because she lost a bet schtick is like somewhat demeaning. Like I'm all for it happening to the 141 or whatever but, I put my own spin on it, so even if you don't enjoy it I will but thank you for supporting me anon <3 also screaming at the images I chose for this hahaha

Despite the fact that being in the military was a constant inner battle of not becoming a barrack bunny, it made it a bit easier knowing that 90% of the men were just straight-up fucking whores. So when you lose 7-6 in back-to-back rounds of Blackjack to Johnny, he thinks it's funny to propose a bet that leaves you practically bare-ass naked to every soldier on base.

"'ll be like wearin' a bikini." He says.

To which you can give him a piercing glare that sends an unpleasant shudder up his spine, but regardless he's laughing his ass off. It's not exactly an everyday occurrence that Johnny is winning bets against you so he's taking advantage of the opportunity to embarrass you just as much as you do him.

Wolf whistles and cat calls are heard from the common area that the 141 was currently lounging in, and their ears perk up at the sound of heels clicking against the floor.

"Hell's fuckin' bells, you really wore it, bonnie." Johnny eyes are twinkling and his grin is stretched from ear to ear when he gets a gander at you.

You're wearing the sluttiest maid outfit you could have ever conjured up from many, many, many Halloween's ago when you were in your Chicks Gone Wild Era (iykyk) and Price, Kyle and Simon are flabbergasted by your appearance. Kyle is dropping his spoon that he just stirred his coffee with, Simon is half turning the page to his book and Price just straight up chokes on his London Fog, sputtering it all over his MacBook.

"Fuck you." You mutter, plopping down on the couch next to Simon as you readjust the mobcap on your head. Your dress is riding up as you sit, but you cross your legs and Price is handing you a pillow to cover yourself up to which you sheepishly smile up at him and thank him.

"Why are ye complainin'? Y'look good, bonnie."

"You put her up to this?" Kyle asks, bewildered at the situation unfolding.

"Lookin' good, Serg!" A passing herd of soldiers call out to you as they chuckle amongst themselves and continue to whistle at you.

You shake your head and turn to Johnny with an exasperated look. "Is this what you wanted? To embarrass me?"

"It's not very becoming of you, Johnny." Price murmurs against his mug before taking a sip but it's evident that his face is reddening by the second by your scanty appearance.

"Oh, she does it to me all th' time!" Johnny throws his hands up in half frustration and half amusement.

But Simon on the other hand is silent. He doesn't really know what to say, but he's starting to feel the warmth rushing between his legs.

"L.t., thoughts?"

And Johnny knows exactly what the fuck he's doing while he's shooting him that shit-eating grin that makes Simon want to fucking bumrush the absolute shit out of the Scotsman.

Admittedly this has Kyle and Price's tongues poking their cheeks as they await his answer.

"Y'r a fuckin' slag, Johnny."

And that causes the room to erupt into laughter as you're all clapping your knees and keeling over. Johnny is slightly embarrassed by the jab, but nonetheless, is laughing along. It was nice to have a little laugh in the 141.

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 31 || The Breakdown (continued)

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language & angst.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 3k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——GOJO LEFT YOU WITH a lot to think about.

Before doing so, he dropped you off at your apartment after a passionate and almost final makeout session in the car lot just outside your apartment...

You knew it was your last time kissing Gojo.

It just felt like it. Like the final kiss of a romance film, Gojo's hands were so gentle against your body, his lips slipping and sliding over yours sensually and his tongue getting lost in your mouth. You'd hum into him and he'd moan lightly, the kiss lasting long enough to fog up his car windows.

Even then, it still took some time for the two of you to stop. It felt like another forty-minute make-out but in reality, the two of you sat outside kissing for an hour and a half.

He was so addicting, you felt so light and loved under his touch, allowing all your confliction to dissipate as he sucked and licked at your lips.

You don't even remember why you let him kiss you again but as soon as the car was parked, the soft sound of the radio quietly playing some R&B songs filled your ears and the two of you gave each other a look. Did he ask to kiss you or did you ask him? You have no clue.

All you know is that when your lips connected, they hardly ever parted. Gojo would whisper 'I love you' into your mouth every chance he got, refusing to let you forget that fact. You were still wondering why he sobbed earlier that night but the questions were forced into the back of your mind-- you'd get them answered in some years apparently.

When his lips finally peeled away from yours, a wet smack filled the car and Gojo had a bit of drool slipping out the corner of his mouth-- showing just how sloppy the kiss had been. You smiled and wiped his face off with your thumb, to which he grinned.

Gojo had this almost dazed and fucked out expression plastered across his handsome features. Meanwhile, you had a look of satisfaction.

The two of you stared deeply into each other's eyes, uncertainty, doubt, regret, love, passion, and a surplus of other emotions floating in the air between you two. It was easy for you to get lost in his eyes, easy for you to forget all he's done to you for a moment.

Hell, you could even picture what life would've been like for you if he'd stopped the list months ago. Perhaps the two of you would've dated, maybe you would've fallen for him and maybe the two of you would've lived happily ever after like some twisted fairytale.

But, instead, the two of you live in this twisted and awkward time where fate and reality have set all the pieces in place for you to hold nothing but hate in your heart for him. Even so, you reject holding only such an ill emotion-- never will you be able to look into Gojo Satoru's eyes the same after the day you've spent with him.

Something is wrong.

You don't know what it is and you probably won't ever find out but knowing that simple fact deters you from holding only ill intent.

"Can I uhm... say one last thing before you go up?" Gojo whispers, breaking you out of your thoughts.

Your faces are still close to one another and you nod your head.

"I cried like that because I've been feeling a lot of regret lately," He explains. Is he opening up to you right now? "I don't want you to pity me for it or feel sympathy for me because, trust me, I don't deserve it-, I don't deserve you."

"Satoru, how can you tell me not to sympathize with you after all that?" You ask, your voice filled with this sweetness and tenderness that he feels himself fall for even more, "I can't ignore-"

"I need you to." He says sternly, "Ignore it. I can't fix what I've done, sweets. A-And I'm not gonna try to. You're meant to be with someone who makes you unyieldingly happy and that will never be me." He sighs, brows tensing.

He looks so utterly distraught.

You can even tell he's trying to keep himself together, "Even if I explained it all to you and you were to somehow catch feelings for me and want to choose me over Choso, I-"

"Whatever you're about to say, you don't know that." You cut off, "You can't predict the future Satoru, any scenario you play out for me is nothing but an educated guess of what may happen but you truly don't know what'll occur if you just tell me the damn truth."

"The truth will undo everything I've worked for so far," Gojo claims.

You sigh heavily, "What does that even mean?"

"It won't make you happy, that's what I mean," He clarifies, "I can't make you happy, sweetheart. I wish I could but I can't. And the truth?" He scoffs a little, "Once I explain that all of hell will break loose."

"Satoru it can not be that bad, you're being dramatic-"

"I'm not." Gojo cuts off, his eyes deadly serious, "When you get the truth, I think you'll understand me but you definitely won't forgive me."

Your eyes narrow and you tip your head to the side, "Why don't you just tell me and find out, what's stopping you?"

"Fear." He claims.

For some reason, the slight shake in his voice brings that very emotion to you. Fear? What could Gojo Satoru have to fear?

You blink, "Of what-"

"Everything." Gojo says, his voice a tad bit louder, "I don't want to go down that path at all. I just want you to finish the list and go be with the man you love."

Do you even love that man? It's such a strong word... Maybe if Gojo had said what he just said a few weeks ago you would've said you loved Choso but now... Well, you haven't talked to him and even though he plagues your mind and heart often, you almost feel as though your feelings have faded.

That would probably change if Choso sent you even one text but the distance he's drawn between the two of you is solid. He made it very clear that unless you want a relationship, he doesn't want you around him. Choso feels so strongly around you that it hurts him to be in your presence and not be your boyfriend-- he explained that to you.

And naturally, you admire the way he avoided that toxic situation. But... it's also created some heafty dissipation of your feelings. Obviously, you think about him all the time but not talking to him does make you feel conflicted.

Do you love Choso? Do you like him? Is it just a crush? Has this one day with Gojo changed the way you think about everything and now you're sitting here confused about who you want and why you want them? Have you forgotten everything you've experienced with either man?

Choso made you happy beyond belief and Gojo has only brought you confusion.

But, Choso was also so much of a green flag that you were blind to his red ones. And Gojo was so much of a red flag that you didn't see the white one he held behind his back.

You remained quiet for too long and Gojo tilted his head at you, "Do you not?"

"H-Huh?" You stammer, breaking away from your mind.

"Do you not love Choso?" He asks.

"I don't know." You whisper.

The confusion of it all has officially gotten to you. You don't know anything anymore.

Gojo raises a curious brow, "Is it because you haven't seen him in a while?"

Your brows furrow, "N-No-"

"Winter break is just a month away," He tells you, "Maybe you should try to see him during that time."

A slight chuckle escapes your lips and you sigh, "It seems like you want me to get with Choso more than I want me to get with Choso."

"He makes you happy in ways I can't." Gojo points out, shrugging casually.

You scoff and words leave your lips faster than you intend them to, "That's not true."

"Sweetheart, I'm using you." Gojo emphasizes, "Stop forgetting that. Y-You..." He struggles to get this part out but he knows he has to. He has to create that distance between you and him, "You're nothing more than a t-"

"Don't." You cut off, shutting your eyes as your expression sours, "Don't you dare say something you know you'll regret even more, Satoru. C'mon now, we've been doing pretty good thus far but if you call me a fucking tool that's gonna fuck it all up-"

"That's what you are for me though." He cuts off. The claim didn't even sound right leaving his lips. His ability to be an asshole toward you has faded entirely.

"No, it's not." You argue back, opening your eyes and seeing his head turned away from you.

He swallows "Yes, it is-"

"Look me in the eyes and tell me I'm nothing more than a tool for you, then." You challenge, your gaze unwavering, "If that's the truth, look at me and say it."

Gojo struggles, refusing to meet your gaze, "You're-"

"I said look at me, Satoru." You emphasize.

He does, very slowly. "You... are nothing more... than a..." Gojo trails off, staring so intently into your eyes, losing himself, his mind, his breath, all of it as he can't even finish his statement properly.

"That's what the hell I thought," You utter, "Stop trying to make me hate you when I don't have to."

"You're supposed to," Gojo claims.

You don't know what that means. You don't know what any of it means. When will the confusion end? When will it all make sense? When will you get the chance to have a clear and focused mind??

A simple and unrelaxed sigh leaves you, "Okay."

"That's it? Just okay-"

"I don't know how to feel right now, Satoru." You huff out, turning away, "I don't understand anything and I hate not understanding shit. I don't know why you do the things you do, I don't know if I love Choso, I don't know if I still hate you, I don't know anything!" You rant, "I have so many fucking questions. There's too much going on and too little being explained to me and I can't take it anymore."

"I'm sorry, I really am-"

"That's all you ever are. Sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry, when does it end Satoru?" You whine, so beyond tired of it all, "When do I get to understand? When are you going to stop keeping me in the dark so that I can help you?"

"You can't help me," Gojo claims.

You grit your teeth, "You don't know that."

"Yes, I do." He argues.

"Earlier, you said we're the same. I didn't know what you meant, and I still don't but, if that's the case then the only person that can help you is me so, god damnit Satoru, let me in. Open up to me for fucks sake!"

He's like a damn wall, something that even you, his literal weakness, couldn't get through. Nothing you say will make him reveal the truth to you.

Gojo says your name in a chillingly calm tone, his eyes going all dull again, "I'll let you in when the time is right-"

"When?! When will the time be right?? When are you going to let me help you?"

"That's the fucking problem!" He snaps so suddenly that it almost frightens you. Just like that morning, it's another random outburst of anger, "That's why I'm in this damn mess, b-because of you. Y-You and your fucking kindness. You should hate me right now but here you are too busy trying to help me? To fucking understand me?"

"How can I not? This is your second time getting upset with me within the past twenty-four hours and you fucking cried into my arms! Am I really expected to ignore that?"

"Yes! About two months ago, you were hellbent on hating me but just because I shed some damn tears you're ready to fucking baby me? I don't need that from you, I don't need anything from you." He's so clearly rambling by this point, not even realizing what's coming out of his mouth, "I just want you to keep hating me like you always do." He continues, his voice angered to mask his hurt.

You go quiet for a minute and just listen to him.

"Stop trying to figure me out like I'm some damn puzzle. There's no problem for you to solve here; I need you to fuck people, not care about me. I need this list cleared, I need it to all just be over." He spits out, his voice wavering at the end, "T-That's all I need, sweetheart. Stop tryna' understand me, just finish the fucking list and let it be over-"

"Gojo Satoru," You cut him off, the use of his full name making him freeze. His mouth shuts like a trained dog and he feels as though his blood just ran still. "I'm not gonna stop trying to understand you because I'm in this mess with you, whether I like it or not. I've been paying attention to you all day, y'know that right?"

He simply shrugs, too frozen to even speak anymore.

You take a deep breath, calming your heightened nerves, "Even a blind man could see that something happened that triggered you recently. You've never blown up on me or broken down on me like today. And, dare I say, I think it was something from Sukuna's party that started all this."

He swallows, hard.

"Were you the one that called the cops?" You question.

"N-No," His voice is shaky but not because he's lying. He's nervous. "That uh, t-that was some guy who was pissed about getting knocked out, I think."

"Okay, so what happened while we separated, Satoru? Because you've been snappy and emotional ever since. First, you cursed me out about calling myself a whore, then you cried when I said I love the way you kiss me, and now you got mad at me because I want to understand and help you. So tell me, what happened?"

"...Nothing." He mumbles.

You stare at him with this look in your eyes, deciding to give him one last chance to tell you because you're so beyond tired of the stress his answers and mood swings are bringing you, "Are you sure? If you don't tell me now... I'm going upstairs. Then, I'm gonna finish the list and I'll go on with my life without caring anymore."

"I-I..." Gojo's heart sinks, the moment presented to him so perfect.

"This is your last, and final, chance to open up to me. Speak now," You sigh, "Or forever hold your peace."

His eyes soften, "I can't tell you."

You nod your head slowly, "Okay." You then turn away from him and look down to make sure you have all your things, "When you're ready to grow some balls and explain yourself, I'll be ready. But until then," You move to open the car door, "I'm done with this shit."

Your feet swing out the car and just as you're about to step out, he calls your name, making you freeze. Gojo can't tell you the truth but he means it honestly when he says, "I'm sorry for loving you."

You squeeze your eyes shut, "What does that apology do for me? Hm?"

"That's why you're in this mess." Gojo explains, just barely, "Because I stupidly fell for you, you're wrapped up in my bullshit."

"You're still confusing me." You point out.

"I'm not trying to explain it. I can only give you that as of right now. All of this is because I made the mistake of loving you and for that, I'm sorry."

"Okay." You hum, your voice small and exhausted, "Then," You turn around and meet his eyes one last time, "I forgive you."

"W-What-"

"For loving me, Satoru. It's not a crime," You say, mocking a comment he made to you earlier, "You're allowed to love me. So, for that, and that only, I forgive you."

Those words healed so many more wounds in his heart than you realized. It was like that was all he ever needed to hear. If Gojo's mistake was loving you and that's what caused this, then you forgive him.

If in some twisted way, his feelings started the list, you forgive him.

Deep down, you know the truth will be revealed someday but, you can't keep stressing yourself over it-- you're digging yourself into a hole and opening up doors that can't be closed. By some miracle, you could recognize that it was best you stopped asking all your questions and instead moved on.

That's all you can do; move on.

Complete the list.

Nothing else matters.

Free yourself from this cursed predicament and live your life.

That's what you want, that's what Gojo wants, that's what's needed.

Freedom.

GOJO SATORU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

GETO SUGURU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ITADORI SUKUNA ☐ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮???

NANAMI KENTO ☐ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: ???

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

[loaksbitch]

jake sully telling you to stop running away and take him when you’re overly stimulated while he’s not even near his orgasm?? yes pls i’ll def write it!! (⨳)

warnings - jake being jake obviously needs a warning itself, hellooo?? tummy pressing, pinning hands above head, forced orgasm, overstimulation, p in v, mean jake turns soft jake at the end but still we all love him, ehh idk what i missed so tell me ( grammar errors and typos ahead )

“‘s too much.” your words fell on deaf ears as your mate keeps rutting to you hard, knocking up your gut.

you’ve lost count of how many times you’d came through the time you both started to fuck. “j-jak-jake” you’d keep stuttering every time he thrusts up to you, “can’t get enough of this pussy, princess” he states.

“can’t get enough of you” he’d sneak his arms and wrap them around your waist before brining you up from the floor to his strong thighs. “no!” you whine when you feel him fully sink into your heat

jake would look down to where you both are connected and groan at the sight of your arousal all over his cock. “fuck, you’re taking me so well” he cusses holding you by your hips and pulling you up from his length to push you back in

at this point you’re nothing but his cocksleeve, jake ignores your pleas and keeps rutting to you like a monster. you gasp when you feel a bubble is about to burst in your tummy and shake your head knowing you’ll pass out if your mate won’t stop

not thinking of consequences, you slightly lift yourself up from his thighs but not fully for his cock to slip out and place your small hand on his pelvis, trying to push him off and that was a big mistake

“JAKE!?” you scream when he pulls you down forcefully. “where the fuck do you think you’re going?” he would hiss under his unstable breath and place you by your back, pressing your hips down to the floor.

you’ve now pissed jake on top of you, one hand claiming your tiny hands and pinning them above your head. “stop running away,” you feel his other hand push your left leg to the side for more access. “stop fucking running away and take it, take me”

you shake your head side to side as tears keep forming in your eyes. “it hurts,” you hear him scoff. “should’ve thought of that before being brat and pissing me off, lover girl”

you feel his hand that was holding your left leg slowly slide up to your tummy and once he was below your navel he only was needed to press lightly to feel how deep he was fucking your cervix. you did not even need to tell him you’re cumming as he felt you squeeze the day light out of his cock

“that’s it pretty girl, cum for me” he leans down to kiss your lids and wiping your tears with his hand that was pressing on your tummy, “fuck i’m so close” jake says making you gasp a sob out ‘finally’ you manage to think as your fogged mind processes what’s happening

you squeeze your eyes shut when you feel him bottom out to paint your walls nice and pretty. “so fucking gorgeous with my load in you” he would compliment you as you two try to ease your breath

finally being able to think straight, you feel jake pullout of you with a constant “shh, you did so well princess” and sweet nothings being whispered to your ears. after a while, you’re partially awake with hazy eyes as you watch jake press a warm and wet towel at your sex to clean you up

once everything was done, jake spoons you and keeps apologizing for making you cry, you hum knowing somehow it’s your fault for being a brat and trying to make him jealous with flirting with other men he doesn’t like. “i love you, pretty girl”

he’d only smile when you answer him with a soft purring as you’re technically sleeping.

boy OH BOY this is nothing but a cow shit 😭 sorry this ain’t what y’all expected :’)

like + reblog + comments are super appreciated and not pressured. i love each and everyone of you babies <3

[myspacebrat]

˗ˏˋ𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 ˎˊ˗

bar-back e.m. x fem reader

blurb request: barback!eddie who let’s you try his newest concoctions on the house🤭 by @bcyhoods

authors note: thank you for participating in my little celebration and sending in your request(s), love. This was such a fun one to write and totally got away from me. Anyway, hope you like! <3

✷ ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+

A fog of smoke greets you as you walk through the double doors of the hideout, some run down dive bar in the middle of bum fuck nowhere, surrounded by cows and cornfields. You can’t help but grimace as each step you take is met with sticky resistance under the soles of your brand new loafers.

You take a seat at the bar, running your fingers over the skirt of your dress while you wait for the bartender to notice you and while you do, you take in every inch of him; in his black leather jacket, long brown waves and rings galore. He’s not like anything you’d ever seen outside of an MTV music video.

You’d spent your whole life around preppy assholes who thought polos and boat shoes were cool. They’d never be caught dead in that bad boy attire or much less in a sketchy place like this. That thought made your heart race with excitement, you set your sights on him and prayed your sweet charm and flirty banter would work in your favor.

“Uh, what can I get ya, sweetheart?” The smoothness of his voice instantly makes you want to clench your thighs, but you decide against it as your eyes meet his.

“Mmm, got anything sweet?” You ask with a flirty smile, you don’t want to lay it on thick too soon, just little by little for now.

“Sure, I can whip somethin’ up for you.” He says proudly, bending down to grab a whisky glass and a bottle of some fruity liquor. “Sorry, we don’t have anythin’ more fancy, we really only get beer and whisky orders here, if you can believe it.” He says sarcastically as he looks around the smoke filled bar, met with older working men and bikers who were, to no surprise holding an aforementioned beer or whisky.

“It’s fine.” You say, waving off his apology with a small swat to the smoky air. “So… aren’t you a little young to be bartending?” You ask curiously, also as an attempt to keep the conversation flowing.

“Ah, well you’d be right. I’m not quite a bartender yet, more of a bartenders assistant if you will. But…” he looks around with dramatic flare, making you giggle. “She’s not around at the moment, so looks like you’re stuck with me, princess.” The pet name sends a thrilling swoop straight to your stomach.

“Maybe I wanna be stuck with you.” The words are out of your mouth before you have a chance to fully process them and you immediately want nothing more than to swallow them back down. Your face heats up with humiliation when he raises an eyebrow that gets lost somewhere underneath his shaggy bangs.

He doesn’t even acknowledge your little slip up, instead he shakes his head as a smirk forms on his pretty lips, all the while pouring some red liquor and pineapple juice concoction into your glass. You both let the awkward silence flow around you, although the bar is anything but silent.

“So, tell me what ya’ think?” He beams, scooting the half filled glass closer towards you. The silver of his rings glint off of the yellow lighting and you can’t help but want to do some very shameful things to those fingers while he’s wearing those rings.

After the third concoction of his amazing fruity cocktails, you begin feeling that familiar burn in your chest. You’re nowhere near drunk just feeling loose, which was never good for the people around you.

“So, why haven’t I ever seen you around?” The metalhead asks as he takes a seat next to you at the bar, the bartender had since come back and told him he was off the hook for the rest of the night.

“Well, I was on my way to Loch Nora to visit family…but, well I got a flat and pulled into the parking lot and thought why the hell not? I could use a drink before I go see my uptight aunt and asshole cousin.” You ramble, before stopping yourself with another sip of your coconut cocktail.

“Uptight and asshole seems to be the theme in this shit town.” Eddie chuckles as he watches you between sips of his cheap beer.

“Uptight and asshole also seems to be the theme in my family.” You quip back with a small smile.

“Well I don’t know about uptight but asshole is definitely the theme in mine.” He smirks as he playfully pushes into you with his leather clad shoulder.

“Yeah, well you haven’t met assholes until you met the Harringtons.” You say back with a playful push of your own.

“Harrington? As in S-Steve Harrington?” He stammers, turning towards you in his bar stool as his eyes bore into yours, awaiting your answer.

“Oh, so you’re acquainted with king asshole?” A smile radiates across your face that makes Eddie noticeably gulp.

“Y-yeah, I guess you could say that. But, yeesh I think you might have me beat, sweetheart.” His laugh is boisterous and loud over whatever metal song is playing through the old speakers.

“Tell ya what, how bout I call you a tow truck and cab…and uh, these drinks are on the house since you were nice enough to be my taste tester.” The look on his face tells you he’s anything but ready to see you go. So of course, in your loose as a goose but extremely coherent state, you say something you never would’ve just an hour ago.

“Well, since you gave me something to taste, it’s only right if I do the same, no?” You throw in a flirty wink in a desperate plea to stick the landing of your intended innuendo.

What you didn’t realize was that he was in the midst of taking a sip of his beer and once those words slipped past your lips he immediately went into a violent coughing attack, his eyes wide as if in complete and utter disbelief while you swat at his back, trying to help him catch his breath.

Once his coughing died down, his eyes met yours again and the apples of cheeks bloomed a pretty pink, embarrassment clearly overtaking him.

“W-were you serious?” He asks, as if he was contemplating your proposal and that had the thrilling swoop vehemently returning to your stomach but now it traveled down towards your core as you clenched around nothing.

“Very.” Is all you say, but your eyebrow lifts in question before you begin to stand from your barstool.

Your hips sway seductively as you make your way to the dingy bathrooms, a smile overtaking your futures when you hear sneakers squeak behind you. You push the door open and are immediately met with graffiti riddled walls; it’s filthy, disgusting and so fucking thrilling!

You hear the door shut and lock behind you, and when you slowly turn you’re met with those warm brown eyes that you’ve been fawning over all night.

You don’t say another word, instead you take a few calculated steps over towards him before pushing him up against the graffitied door and smashing your lips into his, in an intense and desperate kiss. He moans into your mouth when your tongue sloppily glides against his, the kiss is all consuming and has you weak in the knees.

His lips pull away and you chase them with a whimper that has him smirking down at you with a cock sure grin.

“Up on the counter, princess. I want that taste you promised me.”

✷ LIKES, COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE SO APPRECIATED, LIKE YOU’D SERIOUSLY MAKE MY DAY (:

[mncxbe]

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭...

ೀ๋࣭ ⭑𝒄𝒘: pwp, needy/pervy? men, backseat activities, creampie, pet names, not proofread

the 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐲, 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 who watch you from the distance, not daring to interact with you in any way. their life is messy, dangerous– violence and death leaving no space for love. and even if he could afford such mundane affections, an angel like you would never turn their gaze on them, right?

well, that's what he thought until you hit him up. walking up behind him and tapping his shoulder with the most innocent smile plastered on your pretty face. "Hey there, stranger. You look a little lost" it's all you say, your voice barely audible over the loud music and chatter in the bar. he thinks you look prettier up close and finds himself unable to reply with any witty or flirty remark. "Not really, it's just not a place I usually go to".

'stupid idiot–' it's all he can say to himself, the fear of coming across as uninterested and pushing you away rooted deep in his bones. but his comment only makes your smile widen. you lean in and he feels his cock straining his pants when you brush your fingertips against his thigh, moving them upwards, tempting him "Then why don't we go somewhere more comfortable for both of us?"

That's how you ended up in the backseat of his car with his hand cupping your panty clad ass "Please baby take 'em off for me, will you?" he pleads and you indulge him, sliding off the lace trimmed panties to grant him access to your cunt before climbing back on his lap.

It feels good, too good, the way you grind on his hand– his fingertips shoved snugly against your sweet spot, causing moans and mewls to spill from your glossy lips as your hands find his belt, skillfully unbuckling it. his cock slides inside you easily, stretching your gummy walls and fuck– you feel just like he imagined.

it doesn't take too long for the windows to fog up– not when he's messily bucking his hips to meet your grinds, panting like he'd just run a marathon. "that's it pretty girl just keep bouncing on me ah fuck— feels too good. y'er sqeezing me so tight–" he whines between shallow breaths, completely lost in the feeling of your walls clamping down on him. he never thought a man like him would ever reach heaven but there he is, buried deep inside your pretty little cunt.

he's not used to the pleasure, really, so it doesn't take him long to reach his high. an unfamiliar warmth pools in his core, making him feel dizzy. he closes his eyes and doesn't even realize that his hands are fiercely squeezing your hips– keeping you nice and steady as he ruts inside you, his leaking tip hitting your sweet spot with each thrust. "fuck, fuck, fuck baby 'm close" he groans and it's like music to your ears.

the feeling is overwhelming, so many emotions swirling inside him all at once– it's like you dug deep inside his soul and opened Pandora's box. guilt, need, shame, bliss, adoration. if it weren't for the tears spilling from his eyes you wouldn't be aware of the effect you had on him.

you smile and gently wipe his tears away, placing little kisses on his cheeks as you cup his face with your hands, encouraging him to keep going "make yourself feel good for me, okay? you deserve it you're doing good. c'mon cum for me, handsome"

and he does— and it feels like heaven. his vision blurs as his cum spurts inside you, painting your gummy walls white. it takes him a while to regain his breath and composure, but even when his calm-and-collected mask is back on the grip on your hips doesn't falter. he keeps himself sheathed inside you as you lean against him, your combined juices leaking down to his base.

"so..." you eventually speak up, your face still buried in the crook of his neck. "you feeling better now?" he only hums for lack of a better response, kissing the crown of your head and wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you flush against his chest. he can't bring himself to tell you he's afraid to let you go, that he wants to stay like this for one more minute– to indulge himself the pleasure and comfort of normality and intimacy. because in the end he's still a stranger to you. still... things may change between you and this luxury he rarely affords could become part of his routine– if you want that too. for now he can only hope for something more and let the rough edges of his soul soften up in your embrace.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀, 𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀, 𝐉𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐎, 𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀, 𝐀𝐊𝐈, (𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫) 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐁𝐄 ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡