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#DON’T BE SHY JUST TELL US
royaltea000 · 1 year
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I have this semi theory that the dragon riders middle names are what they would’ve been named if not for the scary name keeps away the fae tradition but also the fact that all of them have normalass names except for Mr. Horrendous takes me tf out
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apotelesmaa · 2 months
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A while back I saw sm1 saying tsukasa expresses emotions like it’s his first time experiencing them & while it’s very funny and true I think it’s also worth noting that unlike tv/movie actors, stage actors have to really exaggerate their body language/expressions so that their emotions are readable for everyone in the theatre. On screen you can easily pick up the micro expressions on an actor’s face because you’re like 5 ft away at most and the camera often zooms in on their face. From the back of the theatre you can’t read subtle expressions so the actors need to over emphasize and use their whole body. All this to say: given that u cannot take the theatre kid out of tsukasa I feel like his acting just bled into how he expresses his emotions.
Emu also does the body language thing but it’s harder to tell as she’s normally expressing a smaller range of emotions than tsukasa (she’s naturally joyous and whimsical creature & tsukasa is usually given ample reasons to express annoyance). I think that’s more of a result of her exaggerating her happiness so that other people are also happy rather than an acting thing though. Gestures at her refusing to show negative emotions. Entertainer/clown (actual clowns, not the insult) vs stage actor. Really good examples of them doing this is the clip of rui imitating tsukasa & the clip of nene imitating emu.
#project sekai#don’t misinterpret this he’s not like. pretending to feel whatever he’s expressing. he’s acting the emotions he feels.#he’s capable of not doing that esp when he needs to be serious. his normal is just stage acting behavior.#knowledge I gained from 1) having a theatre kid sister who was rlly good at this 2) doing photography for her shows 4 newspaper#she got put on the no print list (list for ppl who are photographed all the time who need to not be photographed so others can be in photos)#bc she specifically was very very good at doing this and it resulted in really good & clearly readable photos#2 a lesser extent I do this as well bc of her influence I just emote less#don’t think it’s a stretch to say that it’s intentional given the implication that he’s so loud bc he’s used to projecting his voice while#he performs.#to clarify wrt emu I think if she was to express more negative emotions they would be more subdued.#unless it was for a role in which case she feels more comfortable not expressing joy 24/7.#i could go on a tangent abt ‘tsukasa doesn’t express his true emotions’ fanon when 1) he does. very obviously. 2) *emu* doesn’t but that#gets ignored. hello. nene having to tell emu it’s ok to cry and rely on wxs to comfort her.#even in the main story where she’s like devestated and blaming herself for wxs breaking up#she’s still smiling when she’s telling tsukasa that she made everybody sad and ruined everything (her view not mine)#mafuyu emu parallels… hm.#i don’t think emu’s ever been shown pissed off id be interested in seeing how she expresses that.#speaking of the it’s ok to cry thing if I don’t get that card when it runs on global I’m going to fuckin lose it. gay ass card.#this is getting long and I have stuff to do but as a side note nene & rui both hide their emotions#nene bc she’s shy & doesn’t show her true hater self unless she’s with friends#& rui because he’s used to being alone & struggles to identify his own emotions#at some point I’m sure I’ll ramble incoherently about how a lot of the issues ppl project onto tsukasa r issues he doesn’t experience#but *emu* does but nobody ever takes her character seriously so it gets ignored.#colopale do an event where nene encourages emu to b ok with showing minor negative emotions please please please
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judeiscariot · 2 years
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Where do we know that iero is into puppyplay from???????
LITERALLY DONT EVEN WORRY ABOUT IT
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bigothteddies · 1 year
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something that just eats away at my fucking soul is when my politeness gets in the way with people. Like I’m sorry, but I’m going to treat like a fucking human being until you give me permission to act otherwise??? I’m going to be respectful until you communicate that you’re okay with me acting otherwise??? Like god you piss me off and make me want to beat you into submission until you swear you won’t talk to anyone else again, you make my blood boil and make me so jealous my stomach turns to think of anyone else even touching you. I want to hurt you and keep you and fuck you and ruin you and control you and a thousand other toxic fucked up things. But I’m not going to say that. I’m not going to hint at that. I’m going to give you fucking respect until you tell me it’s okay to feel and act like that.
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krushgroovin · 10 months
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sometimes i mention beastie boys to my mom and everytime i hope it’s the time she says Okay can you give me the full story of their career? Leave out no detail tell me everything you know i’ve got all day. Personal speculation too
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sapphos-tooth · 1 year
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online tests about being autistic, before i was diagnosed…asking “do you not notice when someone is bored of you?” or something along the lines….
like i am hyperaware that people have no interest in me because i’ve been vocally told that i am boring or annoying. so, i have the constant anxiety of bothering people for simply just existing.
like i can tell by the way someone answers my texts or sometimes by their tone. what really gives it away is when i’ve been talking for too long and they stop paying attention and just look at their phone. ignoring me and hoping that i stop talking.
i’ve been ghosted many times as well.
friendship don’t really last long for me, they never did. sometimes they will last a few years, if i’m lucky…but usually the person drifts away.
usually when i ramble a lot, it’s because i feel comfortable with the person…but most of the time i become too much for them. i’m aware that i ramble a lot..i wanna stop for the sake of that person. but i just keep going.
i don’t like being in groups anymore, i don’t talk about my interests to anyone. i don’t have many friends anymore. i don’t ask for help. i don’t like venting to people. i hate that i talk so much. i hate that i can’t fit in with anyone
having lifelong friends just aren’t in my cards. and i’ve accepted that. i don’t feel bad for myself. it’s just how my life is.
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quotesfrommyreading · 10 months
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When I’m out with Deaf friends, I put my hearing aid in my purse. It removes any ability to hear, but far more importantly, it removes the ambiguity that often haunts me.
In a restaurant, we point to the menu and gesture with the wait staff. The servers taking the order respond with gestures too. They pantomime “drinks?” and tell us they learned a bit of signs in kindergarten. Looking a little embarrassed, they sign “Rain, rain, go away, come again another day” in the middle of asking our salad dressing choice. We smile and gently redirect them to the menu. My friends are pros at this routine and ordering is easy ― delightful even. The contrast with how it feels to be out with my hearing husband is stunning.
Once my friends and I have ordered, we sign up a storm, talking about everything and shy about nothing. What would be the point? People are staring anyway. Our language is lavish, our faces alive. My friends discuss the food, but for me, the food is unimportant. I’m feasting on the smorgasbord of communication ― the luxury of chatting in a language that I not only understand 100% but that is a pleasure in and of itself. Taking nothing for granted, I bask in it all, and everything goes swimmingly.
Until I accidentally say the word “soup” out loud.
Pointing at the menu, I let the word slip out to the server. And our delightful meal goes straight downhill. Suddenly, the wait staff’s mouths start flapping; the beautiful, reaching, visual parts of their brains go dead, as if switched off.
“Whadda payu dictorom danu?” the server’s mouth seems to say. “Buddica taluca mariney?”
“No, I’m Deaf,” I say. A friend taps the server and, pointing to her coffee, pantomimes milking a cow. But the damage is done. The server has moved to stand next to me and, with laser-focus, looks only at me. Her pen at the ready, her mouth moves like a fish. With stunning speed, the beauty of the previous interactions ― the pantomiming, the pointing, the cooperative taking of our order ― has disappeared. “Duwanaa disser wida coffee anmik? Or widabeeaw fayuh-mow?”
Austin “Awti” Andrews (who’s a child of Deaf adults, often written as CODA) describes a similar situation.
“Everything was going so well,” he says. “The waiter was gesturing, it was terrific. And then I just said one word, and pow!! It’s like a bullet of stupidity shot straight into the waiter’s head,” he explains by signing a bullet in slow motion, zipping through the air and hitting the waiter’s forehead. Powwwww.
Hearing people might be shocked by this, but Deaf people laugh uproariously, cathartically.
“Damn! All I did was say one word!” I say to my friends. “But why do you do that?” they ask, looking at me with consternation and pity. “Why don’t you just turn your voice off, for once and for all?” they say.
Hearing people would probably think I’m the lucky one ― the success story ― because I can talk. But I agree with my friends.
  —  I'm Deaf And I Have 'Perfect' Speech. Here's Why It's Actually A Nightmare.
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tojipie · 5 months
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toji x crybaby reader <3
content: hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, smut under the cut !
˚ ✧ ───────────
toji is a flawed man. 
short-tempered, married to his money, slow to show affection. but the one thing he does excel at is comforting you.
he knows you’re a sensitive girl, knows just how easy it is for you to get teary-eyed and red in the face over comments that otherwise seem like nothing to the untrained ear. 
you have a kind heart is all, too giving to a world that only knows how to take. he tells you that every time you break down in his arms, thick hands rubbing circles into the small of your back.
his father would have slapped him across the face for crying. called him soft, whiney like a girl. put him to work for the rest of the day to shape him into a man.
he wasn’t his father though, and you weren’t a zenin.
you were soft in the best way, tender-hearted and too trusting. a daisy among weeds, swaying idly in the too-strong wind. nothing like a zenin, nothing like him. 
he hadn’t the faintest clue what to do the first time he’d seen you get upset, standing there in the kitchen like a fool while you babbled on the phone with his bank.
it was a fraudulent charge, small, maybe only 10 dollars. probably dropped his card while paying for gas again, not the end of the world. the customer service rep assured you that much.
it was the principal, you sobbed. you’d lost his card and hadn’t even noticed. why wasn’t he upset with you?
he doesn’t know why he didn’t just tell you it was okay. that he didn’t have it in him to ever be cross with you, be it a ten-dollar charge or a thousand-dollar charge. 
instead he wrapped his arms around you from behind, pulling your body flush with his to press soft kisses to the crown of your head.
you were warm there, warm everywhere really. the thrum of your blood heating your skin from the inside out. toji liked that about you, how you offset the perpetual cold of his much larger hands. 
physical touch was something he knew well. toji wasn’t—still isn’t good with words, opting to stay silent and just hold you while you sniffled into the receiver. he got the message across, he always does.
his methods are unorthodox for that very reason. he doesn’t comfort you with his tone, he does it with his body. whether it be thick arms squeezing you until you get your breathing under control, large hands tracing shapes into your tummy until you stop spluttering, or toned legs splaying wide to let you crawl into his lap, resting on him until your bodies reach the same temperature.
toji fucks you on your good days, likes to tease you, get you squirming. the key difference is that he makes sweet love to you on your bad ones. holding you flush to his chest while he rocks into you under the safety of your shared blankets.
you feel like a furnace under him every time, heat radiating off your body and into the deeper parts of his soul. 
he gets mouthy once the feeling of you wrapped around him flicks that little switch in his brain. turning off the mental barrier between him and his inability to use his words. 
“sweet girl,” is what he calls you, eyes never leaving yours. 
“gotta stay close to me, gotta keep you safe, huh?”
and keep you safe he does, tucking your face into the curve of his neck so you don’t have to look anywhere but him. letting you moan, and pant, and sigh into his skin while he rocks against that special spot situated deep in your core.
he goes harder when you ask him to. not faster, but harder—he knows the difference, letting the resistance in his hips subside so he can sink to the hilt over and over. 
the juxtaposition makes his head spin. how do you manage to sound so sweet while asking for something like that? able to melt his heart even on the brink of orgasm.
you kiss him when he fills you up, letting him sink on top of you with a huff and a shy laugh. he listens as you open up about the good parts of your day, his soft hums of agreement spurring you on.
toji wishes he was taught to articulate himself better. he’s trying, he really is. though the “i love you” he says into your skin seems like his best shot at a start. 
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savicals · 18 days
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[Okay but virgin König that somehow knows exactly how to please you and have you cumming on his huge cock (or his mouth ) in under 15 min… ]
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“Fuck!— fuck!” You screamed, gripping the bedsheets in front of you. You’d been on the edge for a few minutes now, thanks to your boyfriend König. For someone who claimed to be a virgin, he knew how to have you calling out his name and cursing like a mantra. He swore he had never been with another person, but god it felt like he already knew every sweet spot you had.
“Is it— it good, Liebe?” He asked, as if he couldn’t tell. His harsh pace slamming into your rear did not let up, and you could hardly answer his question.
“Fuck— yes, god! Please, Don’t stop!”
He heard you. He revelled in how you usually praised him, telling him he’s a good boy that fucks you so well and how he’s making you feel so so good. Constantly.
You could feel yourself teetering over the edge, as well as the fact you could feel your boyfriend’s curious eyes burning a hold through the back of your head, watching for any and every reaction.
“Fuck! König— fuck! Im gonna cum— oh god, oh fuck!! Oh my god!”
“Not— not yet, Liebling…please..” he asked.
Fuck.
What a sweetheart. Was he making you wait for him? He stopped for a second, using it to flip you onto your back so you were facing him. He looked a little shy — like he had something embarrassing to say.
“I want… I want to see you…” he said, through rough pants, as he began his brutal pace again. Your eyes were already rolling back in your head and your body was weak. You could only let out moans and begs, so you just nodded to König and let him use you like the fucktoy you are.
Not long later you could tell he was about to cum as his pace was getting sloppier and his breathing was getting heavier. He was letting out small whimpers and moans too, his eyes focused on you the whole time. You were holding yourself back so as to not cum too early. He asked you to wait, after-all.
“Fuck— Liebe— im… im gonna cum!” He said, his voice cracking.
Thank god.
You could feel his cock throbbing inside of you and it was driving you crazy. What sent you over the edge though, was König pressing his hand down on the bulge in your stomach. Right where his cock was. He didn’t slow down for a second, in fact, he fucked you rough into yours and his orgasm until you were a shaking mess on his bed and he was pinning you down with his muscular body, resting after such an intense fuck.
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the-little-crow · 7 months
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Love that my body is fucking falling apart constantly, yet I still have to get up and go to work and do shit. I’ve been having this really shitty pain in my sternum the last few days, and it’s WAY worse today. Plus I can’t catch my fucking breath. Like at this point someone needs to take me out back and shoot me. It would be more preferable
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suguann · 1 month
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FUCK IT, I WANT YOU—JJK MEN. * ˚ ✦
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✎. jjk men who are infatuated with you. | wc. 2.4k+
tags. fem!reader, bsf sister, cockwarming, slightly rough sex, best friends to lovers, exhibitionism, breast f*cking, domestic nanami, pet names, praise, mild dark content, dubcon, stepcest, stuckage
featuring. gojo, higuruma, nanami, geto, sukuna
an. banner is from hare kon okawari | masterlist
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↬ GOJO
He shouldn’t even entertain the thought of wanting you—somewhere in the world, there’s a book of rules that says you shouldn’t develop a crush on your best friend’s little sister. 
It doesn’t stop him from letting you talk him into shopping (as if he’d ever tell you no) and watching you try on tiny, flowy sundresses that make his jaw ache, how he’s just on the side of too-weak for those low-scooped tops you’re always wearing whenever he’s at your house. 
At first, Gojo wonders if you do it on purpose—the bashful smiles and bumping shoulders if he’s close by—but you’re painfully shy for that to be the case. It’s why a smirk tugs at his mouth after leaving love bites across your chest when he finally gets you alone in his room so that he might see the adorable little face you make as you try to cover them up afterward. 
He has you perched in his lap on the bed with an arm wrapped around your waist to keep you rooted on his cock buried deep inside the hot-wet heat between your legs. His mouth sucks marks into your skin wherever he can reach, deep groans rumbling in his chest every time your pussy clenches down on him—a sweet reminder that he hasn’t let you move for a while.
“Toru, not there,” you squeak, fingers knotting in the hair at his nape to gently pull him away. “People will see.” 
But he doesn’t listen as he rolls a nipple between his fingers, mesmerized by the sight of it pebbling into a tight peak—your thighs shaking around him when he pinches too hard.
“So fucking pretty,” he growls, biting his lip as he finally looks up at you. “Just let me play with them a bit more, and then I’ll fuck you. I promise.”
A white lie, but he’s done and said worse, and this isn’t that. This is him savoring a victory he never knew he had until you fluttered those long lashes and asked for a kiss.
You’re gasping and writhing, unable to do anything except sit there while he overstimulates you with his mouth and fingers. When he finally rolls you over onto your back, you’ve already cum twice, but that doesn’t stop him, greedy hips churning against yours and stealing another.
He sucks a nipple into his mouth, loving how you quiver underneath him, your soft socks slipping where they try to rest around his waist. “You’re so sensitive, huh, baby?” he rasps, nosing the soft swell of your breast as he crowds you underneath him. 
You mewl out a broken version of his name, hot pants against his neck that make you sound so desperate—not really answering him as your nails bite into his shoulders—and he can’t get over the way you look right now, how you sound. He’ll never be able to go back to pretending that you’re Geto’s annoying little sister (as if he ever thought you were) as Gojo watches drool trail from the side of your mouth from how good he’s fucking you. 
“Do you know how filthy you look right now?” he grits between his teeth. “Been thinking about this for so long—fuck—can’t believe I finally get to have you.”
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↬ HIGURUMA
It’s an accident the first time it happens. 
You’re at the beach, playing with him in the water, when a wave hits you and washes your bikini top away. You squeal, and because he’s your best friend and has always looked out for you, he doesn’t realize right away he used his hands to shield your bare breasts from everyone else on the beach—eyes round when Higuruma does.
It’s innocent—his intent—yet alarm bells are ringing in his ears.
He expects you to shove him away—you don’t. Instead, you give him a sweet smile with a soft, muttered thank you and let him carry you back to the towels. 
He’s still reeling at how you fit perfectly in his palms, skin against skin in a way he’s only ever shamefully imagined alone with his fist around his dick. It has him shifting his trunks uncomfortably, and he wants—no, needs (a definite need) more.
Higuruma spreads you out on your towel under the canopy of the large beach umbrella, the shirt he gave you pushed up and held out of the way under your chin as you watch him. His shoulders block out anybody from really seeing how he’s teasing your nipples into his mouth—your fingers digging into the hair at his nape to keep him there. 
He never thought he’d get this far after years of watching you dance around the periphery of his life without ever really being his. How seeing you like this—whimpering his name under your breath, eyelashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks, and grinding onto his thigh pressed up between yours—only ever existed in a fantasy or two. 
There’s nothing to do but watch as the lines of an eight-year friendship crumble into the sand with your soft squeaks of more, and his low groans fuck, and he can’t bring himself to feel anything other than a small flame doused in kerosene. 
If this is the sacrifice for holding you and whispering sweet nothings into your sweat-slick skin, he’ll gladly burn.
He’d keep you like this forever if he could, and the way you look at him, pleading with your eyes, makes him think you’d let him if he asked (or maybe he wouldn’t have to).
He releases your nipple and smiles when your shirt falls from your teeth with a whine, your foot stomping against the towel in a way that’s too fucking cute.
“Why’d you stop?”
All the blood and heat in his body rush to his dick at how needy you sound—for him, all for him—and his breath fans across your spit-slick skin shakily, pent up and overflowing with nerves he’s held onto for as long as he can remember. “Sweetheart, you have to be quiet.”
You nod eagerly, your grip tightening in his hair to bring him back towards you. “Okay. Okay. I’ll be quiet. Just please don’t stop.”
Never. 
When your leg brushes the tent in his trunks, it feels like his eyes roll into the back of his head from the contact. He greedily takes your tight, sensitive peak back into his mouth again—hardly paying attention to the wanton moans you fail to suppress as you continue grinding onto his thigh.
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↬ NANAMI
Nanami stares at you more often than usual after you have his son—at how your chest fills out every top you wear, and your hips become the perfect place for his hands—a strange new obsession that develops overnight without a manual or an off switch.
One day, you’re his beautiful wife. The next, you’re his beautiful wife holding his baby, and suddenly, he’s seeing the world through a clear lens, and he can’t stop looking.
His hands are always on you just to curb the constant ache that never really fades, brushing hair out of your face, massaging your lower back, shamelessly letting them wander too close to the underside of your breasts whenever he can. Sometimes, he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, and sometimes it’s all he can think to do.
Some days, after a stressful work day, he’ll lay atop your chest and pepper kisses against whatever skin he can reach, wandering, eager hands getting their fill until he falls asleep. On other days, he stays up long enough—baby tucked away in his crib and the monitor softly humming on the coffee table—to peel your clothes out of the way to get the full picture.
“Just like that, darling,” he groans, watching where you’re kneeled between his legs, unable to take his eyes off the way his leaky tip peeks out from between your soft, bare breasts. 
You stick out your tongue to lick away the pearl of white drooling out of his slit, only to spit it back onto his cock to help aid your up and down movements. It has him throbbing at how messy it is, liquid-hot heat pooling in his stomach at how good it feels. He knows he’s not going to last much longer, and he’s torn on whether or not to stop you or let you keep going.
“How does it feel?” you peer up at him through long lashes like you don’t already know what you’re doing to him.
“‘Good, darling. So fucking good—fuck, keep going—pretty little wife on her knees for me,” he curses, hips shuddering when he thrusts up, watching his length disappear and reappear again and again.
The delicate smile that adorns your lips makes his heart flutter, and balls draw up to his body. “Yeah? You gonna cum, Kento?”
“I don’t—I, fuck, yes.” He’d much rather finish with his face buried in your tits, but he’s already too far gone to pull away, to shove you down onto the couch.
You hum softly. “I want you to cum on me. Please.”
That’s his final undoing, groaning at the thought of him marking those cute tits that take up his every spare thought, cumming unexpectedly in a rush of white-hot pleasure before he can stop it. His cock jerks until viscous streaks of white paint your chest, and it makes everything sticky and sloppy, sending a weak burst of liquid pleasure rushing up his spine before he slumps against the couch with a satisfied sigh. 
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↬ GETO
He loves it when you’re like this. Soft and pliant beneath him, eyelashes spiked with tears.
He doesn’t know where to look—can’t decide between the smattering of possessive marks littering the inside of your thighs or the ones that travel across your chest. 
A decision easily made for him when he presses the tip of his sensitive cock back into your fluttering cunt, unable to tear his eyes away from how your breasts bounce with every one of his harsh, desperate thrusts. His thumb smooths over a peaked nipple—bitten raw and pinched tight—and he curses under his breath at the feel of you clenching on him like a vice.
You tell him how good he feels under a hitched breath, and his chest tightens because he can’t remember the last time someone used an adjective like that to describe him. Good. It’s weird how such a simple word can make Geto’s head spin and make him feel like anything other than the man he is outside your bed.
He ducks his head down to suck another little bruise right above your nipple, the corners of his mouth curling slightly, knowing that he’ll be the only one that’ll know it exists. 
“Prettiest fucking girl I know,” he breathes harshly, already close. “I wish you could see how perfect you look.”
Geto slips his fingers between you, playing over the tiny, sensitive bud at the peak of your thighs.
“Oh.” A soft sigh.
“Maybe I should take a picture, huh? Would you let me? So I can look at you like this,” —he thrusts deep, making sure you’ll be able to feel him afterward— “all damn day, every fucking day.”
And like a tightrope snapping loose, you fall apart around him, practically choking his cock, and he fills up your cunt for the second time that night.
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↬ SUKUNA
You're cleaning the apartment you share with your step-brother until it's spotless because the guy you’ve kind of had a crush on since the start of the semester is coming over today to study, and the butterflies in your belly tell you today is the day he’s finally going to ask you out. 
What you don’t anticipate—between throwing away Sukuna’s collection of energy drinks on the coffee table and doing a load of laundry—is the possibility of getting stuck in the too-small dryer while reaching for a sock or that your brother would be the one to find you bent over with your shorts riding up your legs.
You suppress a groan at the sound of Sukuna's patronizing voice behind you. "What do we have here?"
"Don't just stand there, idiot," you hiss. "Help me."
He chuckles in that mean, condescending way that always sets your teeth on edge. "You're really bossy for someone with their ass hanging out of a dryer. Maybe I should leave you here and wait for Mick—”
“His name’s Mitch—”
“—to find you."
"No!" you say almost too loudly, wincing as your voice echoes around the dryer. With a small sigh, your head hanging, you add, "Please help me."
"That's better." 
It's quiet for a moment, and you start fidgeting again to free yourself until you feel a pair of large hands palming your hips, and you can't stop the squeak that escapes the back of your throat—not expecting the terrible-hot-wrongness of it to feel so good.
A feeling stirs in your belly that you’d tucked away long ago, and only returning to under the safety of the baby blue twinkle string lights in your room—hand in your sleep shorts and teeth digging an imprint into the palm of your hand to hold back the name you only chant in your head.
“You’re s-supposed to be helping,” your voice wavers, dizzy with what’s transpiring in that cramped laundry room.
He huffs a soft laugh behind you, pressing a kiss to the base of your spine where your shirt rode up. “Give me a minute.”
It's embarrassing when you feel wetness pooling in the seat of your underwear, heat rushing from the roots of your hair and down to your toes when his hands travel over the swell of your ass in your tiny shorts. 
You're almost compelled to tell him you’ll get out on your own because it’s the right thing to do—to put a stop to something that shouldn’t happen except in cheap porn. Then his hand comes down against your backside, hard, and every single thought in your head scrambles like an egg on hot pavement.
You whimper, the force of his slap jolting you further into the dryer, sweaty hands scrambling against the metal walls to keep your face from crashing into it.
"Fuck, I've always wanted to do that,” he breathes before tugging the crotch of your shorts and panties out of the way, and you feel something wet and slick drip against your cunt. "Maybe I'll just keep you here for a bit. What do you say, sis?"
His thumb runs along your slit and presses inside you.
“Ah. W-wai—”
“Shh. Just—fuck, so fucking tight—just let me enjoy this pussy, huh?” And quieter, “I’ve wanted this for a long time.”
You shiver and swallow around the words threatening to escape: me, too.
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fairy-angel222 · 2 months
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𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃, 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩
—a day with your favorite person on earth leads you to a fancy hotel for one weekend.. where you finally give yourself to your boyfriend, Gojo Satoru.
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content: college au, fluff, biker gojo, nerdy fem! reader, rich boy gojo (he spoils you bad bad), loving gojo, popular boy shy girl trope, smut, virginity loss, gentle sex, pussy eating, a lot of praise, petnames, reassurance
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Friday, marked the calendar on your phone. You stood outside your house swaying lightly on your feet as you waited for your boyfriend, Gojo Satoru. He refused to let you get to school any other way.
You were clad in a simple white sweater and a black skirt, which blew up at the gust of wind created from your boyfriend’s speeding bike. You smiled, fixing your glasses on your face before giving him a pretty smile.
The tall man getting off with a grin on his face. Shaking his hair back into place as he took off his black helmet. Gojo walked towards you to embrace you in a tight hug, his hands around your waist lifting you off of the ground making you giggle. “Hi baby.”
Gojo placed a short kiss to your lips, “Hello princess,” his eyes filled with adoration as he walked you to his bike with his hand still on your waist. Putting on the helmet he made you choose out before helping you onto the seat. “Hold on tight.”
You always enjoyed morning rides like this. The cool wind on your skin as Gojo maneuvered through countless vehicles. Always making sure to not go too fast for your sake.
Your hands rested on his abs from behind, your vision being blocked by his back which you didn’t mind one bit. Gojo turned to ensure that you were alright, something he did every morning. And although you kept telling him that you were fine, he insisted on keeping himself reassured.
You closed your eyes and took in a deep breath, your smile still on your face even as you approached campus. Your boyfriend quick to park in the spot that everyone knew belonged to him.
Girls gawked as Gojo removed his helmet, once again fixing the white fluff of hair on his head before he was getting off the bike. Helping you do the same and removing your helmet for you, pushing your glasses further up your face since they had began falling. “God you’re so beautiful.” Gojo breathed.
And your heart beat sped up as you looked down shyly. Compliments.. you still weren’t very used to those. Gojo’s fingers found their way under your chin to lift your head up, “You’re really cute when you’re flustered you know that?”
He intertwined his fingers into yours, “Plus, there’s no need to be shy around me princess.”
You could feel eyes burning into you as you walked with Gojo, burying your body into his side at all the stares. “Are they ever not gonna stare..” you mumbled, looking up at him as he looked down at you. “They’re just jealous my love, don’t worry.”
You nodded, lips pulled into a tight line at the girls sending dirty looks your way. This was university for goodness sakes.. were they ever going to grow up. Noticing your discomfort, Gojo scowled in the direction of the girls, “The fuck are you looking at?” Watching as their eyes widened before scrambling off.
It was no secret that your boyfriend was popular, every teacher and every student knew his name. He was kind, a little mean and protective when it came to you, but he really was kind to everybody.
You however, you were just a girl who was non existent until you started dating Gojo. How did you two start dating? No one could phantom it.
Sitting on one of the bleachers, you were deep in a book. Your lunch sitting uneaten next to as you scanned through the words on each page. It was a romance, which you usually didn’t read but this one was just.. interesting.
Losing track of the time, your eyes widened when you saw that you were minutes late to your lecture. Hurriedly scrambling up your belongings and making your way inside.
You internally cringed when you pushed open the double doors to your class. All heads turning to look at you while your professor simply ushered you to take a seat. He knew you were never late, so he was very understanding.
Taking a random seat, you were quick to pull out your books and highlighters to take notes. Concentratedly jotting down important points and details, using your middle finger to sit your black framed glasses higher onto the bridge of your nose.
“Mind sending me a picture of those later today? I forgot my materials at home.” a familiar face smiled innocently, his bag hidden near his feet as he waited for an answer.
Gojo Satoru. A name that you obviously knew. He was extremely handsome up close, and his cologne smelt great. And he.. was talking to you? You tried your hardest to act neutral when you focused your attention onto him. “Oh, uh sure. No problem.”
“Great, let me put my number in your phone so you can text it to me yeah?”
You nodded, handing him the device and watching as he typed his number in. Saving it as Satoru. With a heart.
He finished just in time for the lecture to end. Slinging his bag over his shoulder with a wink, “Thanks princess.”
Ever since that interaction the only thing on Gojo’s mind was you. He began texting you for every little thing and talking to you every day. You guys became somewhat of friends.
Then he was holding your hands all day, saying that they were so much smaller and softer than his. Or wrapping his hand around your waist when you two walked. He told his friend Suguru about you, and though at the time you did not know the other male who attended a different school, you’d assumed he was a pretty great person.
Whispers started to float around the school about your relationship. None of which Gojo ever shut down despite knowing he had the ability to.
You and Gojo made it official after he took you on multiple dates disguised as hangouts. And you couldn’t even deny it, you had already started to fall for him by then. So when he pressed his lips to yours, pulling you impossibly closer to him with his hands on your waist. You melted. That was your first kiss, and it was perfect.
There should not have been a difference in Gojo’s behavior considering he treated you like his girlfriend from the get go. But he somehow proved that statement wrong. He was the best thing anyone could ever ask for. And he was most certainly the best thing that happened to you.
He got you used to early morning and late night bike rides. To the point where you began to love them just as much. You two were polar opposites, but he made it work.
One thing you never got used to, were the never ending stares and whispers directed your way. Even though Gojo was always there to put the person or people in their place.
You loved Gojo Satoru, and Gojo Satoru loved you.
The day went by very quickly, you snd Gojo did not share any classes. But you spent every minute in between together. Especially since you both had only morning classes.
Gojo smiled as you two walked towards each other. Happy that he would be able to spend the rest of the day together. Until..
“Hi Satoru!” she smiled sweetly, purposely blocking his movements when he tried to walk past. You bit your lips as you watched the scene, not finding it in you to tell her off.
Gojo sighed in annoyance, “What the fuck do you want.” his voice was stern, she had been bothering him for over a year now, and it only got worse when he started dating you.
She tilted her head, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “Oh you know.. just wanted to say that if you ever got tired of that ugly slut of a nerd i’ll be right—“
Her high pitched voice was cut off by Gojo holding her roughly by her neck. Something that was way out of character for him. He was just so sick and fucking tired of people talking about you like you weren’t a person. His person.
Backing her roughly into the lockers, Gojo voice was low and aggressive, “If you ever fucking talk about my girl like that again, i swear i’ll fucking-“
“Gojo..” you called out, the man’s eyes softening when he caught sight of you. “It’s fine, let’s just go.. please?”
Gojo nodded, giving the girl another dirty look, “I'd pick her over your ass any day.” Letting go of her and walking in your direction. The girl glaring at you before she stomped away.
Gojo’s hand was in yours once more, your head on his side as you two made your way out of the building. Gojo sighed, “I’m sorry love, got a little pissed off there.”
You smiled, “No, don’t be. I’m.. i’m glad you care so much.”
“Of course i care, you’re my girl and i love you.”
Your heart fluttered, “I love you too.” And you truly meant it.
Gojo got onto his bike after helping you on, both your helmets on your heads with your hands around his waist. Making sure you were secured before taking off. Except it was in the completely opposite direction from your house.
“Baby, where are we going?” you asked curiously.
Gojo only grinned cheekily, “You’ll see.”
You trusted him. Enjoying the ride to wherever he was bringing you. Watching as day turned into night from the long ride.
Your eyes widened when Gojo pulled over at some fancy hotel. His smile never faltering as he got off.
“Annnnnd we’re here.” he spoke, looking intently at your reaction.
“Baby why are we here?” you questioned curiously, still marveling over the beautiful tall structure.
“Giving you a weekend off of school, of course. Gotta take your mind away from all that work somehow.”
You were speechless, “Satoru, you really didn’t have to.” Gojo’s hands grabbed your face softly, tears welling in your eyes at the him going this far for you. Especially when one night alone was almost 400 dollars.
“Hey, look at me. I’m more than happy to do this for you.” He reassured, pressing his lips softly onto yours before chuckling, “Plus, when life gives you this much money, spend it on the person you love the most.”
“B-but i don’t have any clothes,”
“I’m taking you shopping tomorrow.”
Gojo lead you through the grand doors of the building, giving his keys to the valet on his way in. Making your way to front desk, you glanced nervously around you. Everything was white and gold, and you gelt so out of place with the clothes you had on.
“Satoru Gojo.” Your boyfriend nodded to the receptionist who smiled knowingly when she handed him the keys. “Enjoy.”
You waited in anticipation for Gojo to open the door. Your jaw dropping when you took sight of the rose petals making a walkway to the room’s bed. Which had the words ‘I love you’ in a heart spelt out from petals.
There were rose scented candles near the bed, but what really caught your attention was the mini backyard the room seemed to have. “Satoru.. you didn’t.”
He hummed, “Oh yes i did,” leading you outside to a large blanket set up. Candles surrounding it with roses scattered all over. A small picnic basket and a bottle of wine in the center as the moonlight shone down of the most beautiful gift you had ever received.
You wanted to burst into tears. It was so perfect, turning to Gojo with a trembling lip before embracing him in a tight hug. “I don’t even know what to s-say.. it’s so beautiful. I-“ you sniffled, “words cannot even begin to express how happy i feel right now. I love it. And i love you even more.”
Gojo smiled, wiping your tears with the pads of his thumb. “Anything for you love. Anything.”
After freshening up, you wore your boyfriend’s oversized sweater, giggling softly when he extended a hand. “Join me for dinner m’ lady?”
“I’d be delighted to.”
You sat next to each other on the wide blanket. Gojo opening the basket to reveal all your favorite foods and deserts. Your eyes practically sparkling under your lenses at the countless options.
You both dug in not long after, laughing with each other as Gojo messily attempted to feed you a slice of cheesecake. The cherry sauce staining the tip of your nose, and you yelped when Gojo licked it off.
It was amazing, you felt at peace. Especially as you two finished eating, each drinking a glass of wine before laying together. Watching the stars with satisfied hearts as you cuddled into your boyfriend. His arm around you as he held you almost on top his chest. Your legs tangled with his long ones as you matched your breaths to his.
Gojo couldn’t help it when your scent alone started to drive him crazy. The feeling of you on him, your skin on his. It was getting to him.
You could feel his cock growing hard underneath you, poking at your flesh making you heat up. Unsure of what to do, you ended up shifting on top of him. The man letting out a groan before holding you still. “Might not wanna move like that love.”
You playing with his shirt as you contemplated what to say next. You were a virgin, but.. you were ready to give it away, to him.
“Satoru.. I um.. I want.. I want you to f-fuck me.” You stuttered out. And Gojo’s eyes widened at the way you worded it. Fuck, huh? You wanted him to fuck you.
“Love, don’t think that you have to do this because you can feel me hard.” he started, “it’ll go away soon, you don’t have to worry.”
You shook your head stubbornly. “No, I.. I want it, want to do it with you tonight. Please.”
Gojo swallowed hard, his boner straining painfully in his pants. “Are you sure princess?”
“Mhm, i’m ready.”
Gojo smiled, pressing another soft kiss to your lips before he was gently turning you onto your back. The stars seemingly only shining down on you in that moment. “You’re so perfect.” he whispered, his eyes stuck on yours as he peeled the sweater off your body.
Finally breaking eye contact to kiss down your neck and onto your chest. Allowing his tongue to swirl around your pert nipple before kissing his way down your stomach. “Whole body’s so perfect.” he spoke against your skin. And you whimpered when he pulled your panties off. “Fucking beautiful.”
Gojo kissed down the smooth skin, kissing your clit which made you shiver, his tongue licking a teasing stripe on the small bud. Gojo continued his way down, kissing both your folds before his tongue made contact with your wetness. He groaned. “You taste so sweet love.”
Your breathing sled up before he could even start anything. Bringing himself up and stripping out of his own clothes. The moon shining onto his back as he hovered over you. His blue eyes bright and beautiful while lining up with your hole.
“You sure about this princess?”
You whined, “Just do it.”
Gojo chuckled, taking your hand in his before slowly pushing into you inch by inch. “It’s gonna sting a little,” he said right before you winced, feeling your tightness stretching to accommodate his girth. “That’s it.. there we go.. good girl.” Gojo soothed.
You let out a moan, a pleasurable sensation raking through your body when his cock grazed something inside of you. Gojo smirked when he got all of his length in you, your pussy tight on his stilled cock. “Tell me when to move okay?”
You wasted no time, wanting that amazing sensation back. “You can move.”
Gojo abided, slowly easing you into the feeling of him thrusting in and out of you. Your lips parting in loud mewls when he gained speed.
“O-oh Satoru, f-feels good.”
Gojo grinned, his pace gaining more speed with each passing second. Rolling his hips into yours until you were moaning uncontrollably. Feeling your boyfriend’s cock fucking into that same spot before making its way deeper.
Your hands reached up for your boyfriend’s hair. Tugging lightly at white strands with short whimpers which matched his thrusts.
Gojo grunted, “You like that?”
You nodded with a shaky cry, your stomach pooling with heat as your body was rocked back and forth. “Ahh— Satoru.” you mewled, Gojo’s mouth latching onto your breasts with a groan, sucking and licking at one while his hand squeezed the other.
Gojo began kissing up your neck. Littering your skin with small love bites as he made his way to your chin. Kissing your cheeks, your forehead, then finally your lips. Capturing all your cute noises while his hand moved down to your clit.
Your back arched with a cry when Gojo began rubbing small circles. Your toes curling with your moans becoming high pitched loud.
“Nnhg— haah— so g-ood,” you breathed, your eyes closing as your body began to tremble. An unfamiliar coil feeling ready to snap.
“Look at me when you cum.” Gojo husked, watching as you look up at him through your lashes. Your hips arching into his hand before you were involuntarily shaking. Your pussy clenching down on him with a short scream.
“There you go beautiful, let it all out.” he cooed, your pretty pussy gushing messily onto him
“Nngh— feels weird,” you mewled, your legs threatening to close around your boyfriend.
“Just let it happen, it’s gonna feel great. I promise.”
You took Gojo’s word, allowing the newfound feeling to wash over your body before your eyes rolled back, squirting harshly onto Gojo’s cock and thighs.
Gojo could feel his ego swell, “I made you squirt princess. My first time in you and i made you squirt.” he boasted, a lazy smile gracing his features as his thrusts got sloppy. Your moans never ceasing as he got closer to his release.
Gojo groaned, “Hmm— i love you so much. Love so you fucking much.” Burying his head in your neck as his abs tensed, quickly pulling out of you to spill onto your stomach. Your chest rising and falling in soft pants as you both came down from your highs.
You smiled shyly, “That was amazing.”
Gojo tilted his head, “Was it now?” Pressing a kiss to your lips, “I’m glad.”
Gojo took you back inside, running you a bath before settling in the tub with you in between his legs. His chin on your shoulder as he let you relax while he cleaned you up.
The weekend went great. He took you shopping, you ate a delicious breakfast, lunch and dinner. Visited the many pools and buffets. And had sex. Twice. It was better than anything you could ask for. And you wouldn’t give it up for the world.
No school, no ‘friends’, no bothers, no worries. Just you and Satoru. Exactly how it will always be.
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luveline · 2 months
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𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡? | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧
you finally work up the courage to kiss Eddie for the first time and he can’t cope (even if he claims he can). 2k words. requested here
cw fem!reserved/shy!reader, first kiss, heavy kissing, mutual pining, eddie being a hot dork
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Some people (Steve) call Eddie your loser boyfriend, while other people (the girls at work) call him the rockstar. 
You see both sides of him now. 
“Sweetheart!” he calls, the passenger seat window rolled down, his voice strong where he shouts behind the wheel. The van bumps the curve, leaving a sanguine line of rust in its wake and a creak to make everybody on the sidewalk wince. 
“Hello,” you call back. 
The van hums. You wait for him to be at a definite stop before you approach, hands on the open window, leaning up so as to see him best. It’s not just a usual date night tonight, Eddie’s taking you to Indianapolis for a rock show, and he’s dressed the part. “Woah, you look cool,” you say, bravely, wondering if that’s the right thing to say. It’s undoubtedly true —he’s slicked his curls with mousse to define them and leave them pitch black in accordance with his eyeshadow, dark and tapped into his lash line. The top he wears is incredibly tight, carving the softer lines of his abs for anyone to see, and his black jacket is ripped in places to expose the ink of his tattoos. “Are they multiplying?” 
“What?” he asks, grinning at you. “Are you getting in? It’s freezing!” 
“Your tattoos,” you explain, opening the door and popping up into the van with one shoe on the step. 
“Shit, you wanna see?” 
You’re not scared of Eddie, you just like him. He doesn’t worry you, doesn’t pressure you, nothing nefarious about him. He’s pretty, he’s considerate, and he does stuff like this, peeling out of his jacket to flex his arm at you and show you the Saran wrapping around his bicep. “Like that one?” he asks.
He has nice arms, and they’re all the better for his painful obsession. His newest one is difficult to see well under the wrapping. He notices you squinting and moves it up, tape pulling his skin. 
“Another bat?” you ask. 
“Not cool?” 
“So cool,” you disagree. This bat is unlike the others on his arm, which are small and simple in comparison. This one is heavily detailed and very dark, fangs in small triangles bared. The eyes aglow. The skin around it is red. “Did you get that today?” 
“On a whim. Still wanna date me, or is it getting to be too much?” 
You can’t answer him, and he knows that. You’re not very good at navigating intimate conversation or circumstance, though you like him, and he must know that too. Or he must really like you. Your dates have been chaste. Only last time could you work up the courage to take his hand, but when you had, he rewarded your courage with a drove of tenderness, fingers rubbing your knuckles and squeezing soft patterns for hours at the back of the movie theatre. 
The drive to Indianapolis takes near enough an hour. Eddie puts you on map duty but doesn’t use it, ignoring your offer of directions on the insistence that he knows a shortcut and then rerouting when you get too lost. He tells you there are snacks for you in the centre console and laughs, endeared, when you pop the lid and smile at it all. You talk about the show, a band you’d never heard of but had wanted to see on the grounds of sharing his interests. That’s what couples do, right? They try to do things together. You have to put yourself out of your comfort zone, and you’re happy to try if it means you can do it with him. 
“You nervous?” he asks, pulling into the parking garage outside of the venue, a towering, multi-story fiasco crammed with cars and motorbikes. 
“No,” you say, not quite mumbling as you look down at your hands. 
“Good, don’t be. I’m gonna look after you, we’re gonna have a great time. And then we can get takeout after?” You look up. He stretches his arm out to glance at his watch. “I would’ve taken you before, but good old Indianapolis keeps getting further away.” He smiles apologetically. 
You laugh without meaning to. His smile ramps up a notch. 
“I love when you laugh. You have such a cute laugh,” he says. 
“I know you’re lying,” you say, still laughing anyways. 
“I’m not lying, I love the way you laugh!” He shakes his head, curls falling away from his face as he flicks on the light on the car roof. “We have half an hour till doors open.”
“You don’t wanna line up?” 
“It’s kind of overwhelming and I figured we’d stay near the back of the crowd for your first gig here, it gets pretty rowdy.” He says ‘pretty rowdy’ like a drag, nodding gently, eyes lit with mirth. You love it when he talks like that. 
“We can go now, get further in. I can handle it.” 
“It’s not about handling it, I want you to have a good time. Plus, they could ruin your nice dress.” 
You meet his gaze all smiles like he is, but heat flickers in your chest and in your stomach, and you have to look away. It’s an impulse you’ve always given into. You’re reserved in the feelings department but trying not to be, Eddie deserves reciprocation, but it’s hard. Either way, he seems to understand this about you, and he hasn’t complained. 
Still, a bedraggled silence falls. Nearly awkward, unsure of how to tread, you sit together in your separate seats listening to cars parking and doors opening, closing on either side of you, the headlights of the cars driving past glaringly bright, white flashing over your screwed palms. 
“You okay?” he asks. 
You’re sure Eddie wants to kiss you. Three nights ago at the movies, after an hour of languid hand holding, he’d looked at your lips no less than three times as he said good night. He told you he’d had an amazing time, and that he couldn’t wait to see you again. You’d said the same in earnest, and then he’d just walked away. All those stolen glances and he hadn’t made a move. 
“Eddie… why…” You poke your tongue into your bottom lip momentarily, chewing it over. “Why haven’t we kissed yet?” 
“Um–” He lets out a nervous giggle before roughly clearing his throat. You peek at him, watching intently as he takes his hair away from his face with two hands. “I’m just waiting on you, sweetheart. No pressure.” He laughs as he talks, a picture of panic, “You’re sort of shy about that stuff, you know? I didn’t wanna surprise you.” 
“But you do want to kiss me?” you ask unsurely.
He puts his hand on your knee, the space between you suddenly smaller and warmer, the light like white glaze on his pupils, illuminating his finer details. He has a mole nestled under his eyelashes too small to see until now; it catches your attention. You stare at him too long. 
“Of course I do,” he says, eyebrows pinching together in concern. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since I met you.” 
You nod and snap your head back to your lap. Why does he have to be so nice? You wish you’d listened to Steve, even if he was joking, you shouldn’t have ever said yes to Eddie, because now you’re terrified you can’t kiss him and you’ll ruin everything…
“Hey, it’s fine. I’m not waiting for anything. You can take your time or you could never kiss me, and I won’t care. I swear. I mean, I really want you to kiss me but I’ll find a way to cope, I’m sure.” He takes his hand from your leg softly. “Do you want my jacket? It’s cold out, n’ we should probably start walking.” 
You pull your head up slowly. 
He reads your hesitant expression. “I’m in no rush,” he promises, head ever so slightly ducked to yours. 
Okay, you think. Okay, I can do this. You hold your breath and start to lean in. He falters, a millisecond of misunderstanding, before he recognises what you’re doing and smiles. He reaches for your waist with enough care to give you a chance to change your mind, and when you’re close enough to feel his breath, his lashes shutter. 
You follow suit, blind, with nothing but your intuition as you press your lips to his. 
With a feeling like the hum of the engine under your hands, you bring your fingers to his soft cheek and hold him still. He breathes in harshly, touches you far from it, his palm slipping behind your back to pull you in. You lean into it; it feels natural to give in, to turn your head one way and part your lips, to have him kiss back with heat and surprising sweetness.
You feel unlike yourself in a good way, falling back to kiss forward again, a third time, trying to chase the lulling bliss of his lips. The stomach aching want. Your hand chases across his cheek and into the curls behind his ear, needing him closer but not expecting the sound it elicits. He sighs into your lips and you flinch back, startled by the sensation. 
Eddie rubs your back with his index finger, unjudging as you drop your head to catch your breath. 
“You okay?” he asks quietly. You can hear his affection. It’s palpable. 
You nod, a dizzy weight collected in your forehead, thankful when his free hand catches your cheek and he turns your face gently to the side. “I got too hot,” you confess, only half of the truth. 
“It was pretty hot.” He smiles at you like you’re the only person in the world, like you’ve a secret only he knows. “Want me to turn on the A/C?” 
“No, I–” want to kiss you again, you think. You might even tell him so, but he starts to blow on your face, disrupting any thoughts you’d had earlier. He purses his lips and blows cold breath on your cheek, a tenderness in his gaze and the tip of his thumb where it rests just under your eye. “Oh.” 
This might be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for you. Your face feels precious in his careful hand, pretty under his longing look. You’re not scared when he encourages you back to his lips, your eyes quick to close, your hands across the gap of your seats to gather his shirt between tight fingers. 
His kiss is a reflection of him. Loser, rockstar, he’s eager and his hands start to betray that, his kissing melty hot and addictive as the tip of his nose presses hard to yours. You turn your face to accommodate him better and that small action drives him crazy. He’s pulling you in, smiling into your mouth, making breathy sounds that’ll stick around in your head ten times as long as the tingles filling your chest as just kisses and kisses and doesn’t stop. 
“M’sorry,” he says, pulling away, and then stealing another heavy, soft kiss like he couldn’t wait. “Sorry,” he apologises again, stroking the skin beside your eye to encourage you into opening them. “I’m not trying to get carried away. Just can’t believe you just kissed me.” 
“No, it’s okay, I– I really wanted to.” 
He kisses your cheek. You aren’t expecting it and you don’t know how to deal with it. It’s like kissing him has invigorated him, you’re a shot he knocked back, his excitement catching as he begs, “Close your eyes again, sweetheart, just one more–”
You raise your chin and he practically gasps, immediately pressing a last chaste kiss to your burning lips. 
“I’m not always like this,” he promises, leaning away, his fingertips falling from your face to trace down your neck, your shoulder. “You’re just so fucking pretty I lost my mind. I’m on best behaviour from now on, swears.” 
He raises his hand up in a scout’s honour. 
You breathe out happily. “Thank you.” 
“Oh my god. Quick, we better get out of this van before I lose my mind.” He shakes his head. “You’re insane. I have such a crush on you, holy fuck,” —he turns away from you and gets out of the van— “Jesus.” 
You pull down the sun visor to check your reflection in the mirror. You look thoroughly kissed, eyes aglow with it. 
“Fuck!” Eddie swears. You beam at yourself as he wraps on the window. “Come on, sweetheart! I have a concert to pretend to pay attention to.” 
You slink out of your seat, brave enough to try for another kiss so long as it doesn’t kill him dead right here in the parking lot. 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed! I love knowing what you think and it means so much to me/ inspires me to write even more!!! <3 but of course I hope you enjoyed reading regardless :D 
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books-and-omens · 8 months
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Heyyyyyy I’d really like to talk more about the ball, who’s with me.
Because for all its glitter, the ball is dark. No, seriously, it’s dark. It’s eerie, it’s disturbing, and the narrative doesn’t shy away from showing us just how much. 
As in a classic fairytale, mortals are being spirited away into another realm to dance through the night. Here, however, we see exactly who is orchestrating the dance, and why.
And we empathize with him, but watching Aziraphale has never been so painful or so unsettling.
Nina arrives distraught and is immediately hit with the realization that she doesn’t feel distraught, even though she knows she should be feeling it. She confronts Aziraphale and he just tells her: oh yes! :) no long faces tonight! And she is disturbed throughout the ball, thinks she is losing her mind, questions and fights the enchantment… but from time to time, the enchantment still takes hold.
And just—
Aziraphale. Aziraphale, you do know that manipulating people is wrong, don’t you? You… do know that? And yes, of course, neither Crowley’s nor Aziraphale’s approach to morality is human. They are eldritch, they are otherworldly. It was Crowley who changed the paintball guns into real guns in S1, though of course, the humans still had choice in using them.
But the ball is still different.
We’ve never seen Aziraphale do anything quite so disturbing before, or go so obviously deep into his own delusion. There are moments during these scenes when even Crowley, permanently frustrated, is very nearly disturbed. (“Angel! What are you doing?” or “Making it rain is one thing, but a BALL?”)
I fully think that by that point in the story, Aziraphale is not all right. He is in an anxiety spiral, denying reality fiercely, obstinately, disastrously, not listening to any of Crowley’s hissed warnings. Yes, yes, he is giddy, he is in love. It’s so very important for him that everything go RIGHT this night, the night he gets to dance with Crowley. Is he even aware of everything he is conjuring up, of the enchantment he has woven? The humans who step through the doors of the bookshop change: their clothing, their mood, their speech patterns… By this point, is Aziraphale doing this consciously at all? Or is reality conforming to his expectations, forcing everyone into a replica of the nineteenth century while Aziraphale himself, distracted and smitten, works himself up to inviting Crowley to dance?
In the first few episodes, as fear and danger grow, as Aziraphale is faced with the danger specifically to Crowley (I don’t see why he would risk his existence for you, Shax tells him in the car), Aziraphale only denies reality all the more fiercely, only holds on to his plans tighter, only puts more force into them and exerts more control (really, rather like the archangels with their Great Plan).
And the ball, beautiful and otherworldly and eerie as it is, is also a dire warning. 
In the morning, it will be Crowley, not Aziraphale, who will get told off for manipulating Nina and Maggie. Aziraphale won’t reflect on this. He won’t be forced to reflect, and Metatron will manipulate him in turn.
There is a plan to follow. The show must go on.
GOD the ball is so dark.
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pholla-jm · 18 days
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My Wife is Real
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IMAGINE: MY WIFE IS REAL~ GOJO X WIFE!READER GENRE: FLUFF cw: not proof read. use of y/n. use of she/her. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Who do you think he’s texting?” Nobara whispers to her two classmates, Yuji and Megumi. 
Their teacher, Gojo Satoru, sat at his desk. Legs kicked up onto the desk while he was on his phone, giggling here and there. 
It was questionable if Gojo even knew that class had started. 
Megumi didn’t even bother to pay attention. He also sat on his phone, scrolling through social media. 
“I don’t know…” Yuji ponders. “Ugh, he has to be harassing a poor soul.” Yuji gasps at Nobara’s response, “no.” 
Nobara sits up in her seat, “Gojo-sensei,” she calls out. Gojo peeks up, “oh. I didn’t know you were here.” “Maybe if you stopped bothering people, you would notice.” 
Gojo places his hand on his chest and gasps dramatically. “I am not bothering anyone.” “Then who are you texting?” “My wife, duh.” 
Nobara bursts out laughing, “hahaha, yeah… yeah right.” She wheezes. Tears left the corner of her eyes as she tried to take him seriously, but she really couldn’t. 
Yuji just stares at him in confusion, “you’ve never told me about his wife. I don’t believe you.” 
Gojo gasps in shock and disbelief at his student’s words. “Huh?! I do too have a wife. That hurts my feelings that you don’t believe me!” 
Gojo’s full focus was on his students now. Trying to convince them that his wife is indeed real. “She’s literally the best person in the whole world, and the prettiest.” 
Nobara scoffs and rolls her eyes, “stop making things up Gojo-sensei. It’s getting sad at this point.” 
Gojo pouts at her words. He then grabs his phone, typing something in his phone. He puts his phone down with a triumphant smile on his face. “You’ll see.” 
“Yeah… we’ll see.” Nobara says to Megumi and Yuji. 
Megumi on the other hand was not paying attention to a single thing that was going on. He assumed something stupid was going on, so why even bother to pay attention? Yuji just has a thoughtful look on his face, trying to remember any mention of a wife. But there is no mention of one. 
“Yeah… I think you’re making this up… sorry Gojo-sensei.” “This is just getting sad…” Nobara whispers while shaking her head. 
“I can’t believe my student’s have little faith in me.” 
Only five minutes passed of slight bickering between until a knock was heard at the door. The bickering died down and all heads turned towards the door. 
Nobara’s and Yuji’s eyes widen seeing a woman at the door. 
“Who is that?” Yuji whispers to Nobara. She shrugs her shoulders, “has to be someone he hired.” 
Gojo jumps from his chair, a huge smile on his face. “Wifey!” 
He runs over to you, pulling you into a tight hold. 
You let out a strangled gasp from the impact. “Gojo,” you start, “this is the second time you forgot your lunch… and it’s only Tuesday.” 
Gojo pulls back, a faux pout on his lips, “I’m sorry.” You narrow your eyes at him, “I bet you’re just using this as an excuse to see me.” “Whoops, you caught me. Well, while you’re here. Let me introduce you to my students.” 
“Wait wait-” You didn’t get a chance to stop him because he dragged you into the front of the classroom. 
You eye the three students. Megumi had finally put down the phone, giving you an apologetic look. Nobara and Yuji were looking at you in shock. 
“Students, this is my wife, (y/n).” Gojo basically shows you off with a bright smile on his face. Hands in a jazz hand formation. You nervously smiled at the students. 
“Hello.” 
“Hello Gojo-san.” Megumi quietly said, but it was still loud enough for everyone to hear. You gave the boy a sweet smile, nodding at him. 
“What?! Do you know her?” Nobara and Yuji ask him. “Yes…” 
“Yes, they’ve known each other for quite awhile now…. Sorry guys. She’s a bit shy.” Gojo says while you continue to smile at them. 
“They didn’t believe Gojo-sensi had a wife..” Megumi tells you. 
You hum before turning to Gojo, “I see… I don’t blame them.” 
“Huh?! What is that supposed to mean?” You roll your eyes. “Ever so dramatic.” “...so mean.. How can my wife be so cruel?” 
“Ugh, no one cares,” Nobara sighs, “come sit down with us (y/n)-sensei. I have so much to ask you.” 
You just smile at the girl and move over to the desks. 
Gojo looks at you with a shocked look. Not believing that you were leaving his side. 
“What are you doing?” He asks you. You look back at him, “well, you wanted me to meet your students. So I’m getting to know them.” 
You give him a little smirk and Gojo knows that type of smirk. The one where he’s going to regret his actions later. 
Maybe not now, but he knows that this decision will come to bite him.
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moechies · 5 months
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cherry popper! ꨄ toji fushiguro
sypnosis: your first time with toji fushiguro
warnings!! virgin reader w daddy toji <33, reader saying “it hurts,” bit of dacryphilia, praise, pet names mama princess& girl, mentions of fingering, making out, p in v !! obviously
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“slow down girl,” he chuckles above you, watching you pant from your lack of breath due to your previous sweet make out session. one of his arms placed next to your head, another one in your sweet wet cunt. just the taste of his tongue on yours made you ecstatic, barely able to contain yourself.
toji had been fingering you for the past hour, gotten you to cum twice. it hurts, the way he keeps on slowing down when you’re near, telling you he’s prepping you for when you feel his cock; but he’s simply riling you up! and he knows that.!
he feels the squelching of your cunt grow wetter with each thrust, slowly scissoring his fingers in your tight virgin cunt in preparation of his dick. he occasionally glides his fingers over your clit, unintentionally making you arch your back from the teasing.
“m ready toji please..”
“you really think you are baby? want your beautiful cunt filled?” he’s condescending and it embarrasses you. you muster out a un-confident, ‘yeah, but be gentle, please…!” all he does is laugh at your weak attempts to be a big girl before pulling his boxers down below his hip, exposing his hard cock that painfully strained against himself until now. all you can do is stare, his intimidating length and width, nearing the size of a coke bottle. you eye at his leaky throbbing red tip with translucent globs of precum spilling from the tip, and the vein that runs down his cock from top to the bottom.
it’s nothing you haven’t seen before in a way.. you could see his cock through his pants, even if he was soft. but now that it’s in the hold of the big man, it begins to feel real.
“ya sure you’re ready for it darling?”
you give him a simple nod but he won’t take it.
“need you to say it aloud for me baby.”
“i’m ready for you toji..” you whimper out, barely able to trust your own words.
the look of fear in your eyes, it’s almost as if it turns him on even more. all he wanted to do was to flip you on your tummy and fuck you with your head pressed down into the soft of your pink pillows till you cried for him to stop, but he had to be sweet now!
“alright, stay still f’me mama,”
he lines up his cock with your tiny cunt, and you feel your breath begin to labor.
“calm down princess. i’ll go slow. tell me if it hurts.”
with how wet you were, he could’ve slipped it in easy but you had too small of a hole. you feel a glob of his spit fall onto your cunt, what follows shortly when he begins to rub his cockhead around in circles on your cunt, pressing up on your clit. he gently teases you by pressing it back and forth in your hole, but never fully inside, giving you time.
“no more toji..”
all he can do is laugh at your squirming body, so desperate for him, making you shy again. he spits again but on his cock, giving his swollen cock head a few pumps, before using his free hand to press open your legs to stretch your cunt just a bit more.
he presses his tip against your wet hole, and you almost begin to tear up. not wanting to cry in front of toji, but you were so scared. but he knows,
“don’t be scared baby, i’ll make you feel so good alright?”
he leans down over to kiss your lips, meanwhile slightly slipping just the tip into your cunt. you feel him inside, and pull away. your reflects tell you to thrash away from it but you don’t. it’s so thick.
“toji… toji..”
“feel good baby?”
you’re almost shaking as you feel him sneaking inches into your cunt, before it hits a barrier.
“s gonna hurt just a bit baby.”
he pushes through your hymen quickly so there’s no pain, he truly tried to make this less painful! his heart pounds with ache when he’s met with a quick squeak, followed by pained pants and whines as you attempt to adjust to the unusual feeling.
“i-it hurts!! toji! hurts! “
“i know baby, i know.. fuck. you’re so tight mama.. doin’ so well.”
he bends over and cages your head in his arms, meanwhile slowly thrusting back and forth to sooth the pain. he wipes away the stray tears with his thumb, and kisses your face so sweetly. he continues his sweet peppering kisses, even while he pushes his cock deeper and deeper.
“toji no.. no.. too much i can’t.. don’t know how..” he smiles,
“don’t need you to know baby, just need you to lay there pretty for me and take it.” he looks down to see his cock covered in your blood and slick, and he almost cums.
he lets out a sweet groan at the sight, moving his attention back to your face to notice that you had stopped crying, rather started whimpering.
“still hurts baby?”
“yeah, does.. no more..”
“i know mama..”
even with your denial, he shoves his cock fully inside of you. he knows you just needed a push, and he was all for it. you scream out of shock at the uncomfortable fill in your cunt, pulling the man closer to you and into your chest, searching for comfort,
“toji! it hurts! hurts!”
“s okay baby, took it all. so good for me right? first time and you took all of it, you’re such a good girl. such a sweet, good girl baby. you’re doing so fuckin’ well for me. you are.”
he says as he kisses your face down to your neck. he doesn’t move until the look on your face changes from pain to pleasure, and he doesn’t need you to tell him when you’re ready for him to move. your minds cloudy and your thoughts fill with toji, and only him. you mindlessly moan his name over and over as he slowly strokes in and out of your silky cunt. he strokes through your hair and kisses your forehead so gently you almost want to cry.
“toji.. toji…. feels weird.. feels so good..”
“yeah baby? gonna cum for me sweetheart?”
“yeah.. think so.. dunno..”
he laughs at your innocence, he thinks you’re the cutest thing in the world.
“cum for me baby. cum on this sweet cock f’me mama.”
and you do.
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