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yueebby · 7 months

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onsen incident — gojo satoru

synopsis. gojo satoru gets everything he wants and right now he really wants to go to an onsen with you.

contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo, he's just a cute loser, highschool!gojo (first year), he needs to be locked up asap

notes. this is part ii to indulge me? and a piece in the series, but can be read alone.

you’re not sure how you ended up here. one moment you were exorcizing a grade one curse that rampaged a small town with gojo and now you find yourself back at the ryokan you had stayed at the prior night. except this time around you have an overly excited gojo, still at a high from the successful mission.

“suguru mentioned how nice the onsens here were,” he brings up innocently, his lips curving into a sly grin. you spare him a side glance.

“we should be heading back to the airport to return to tokyo,” you asserted, eyes trained on the entrance of the onsen— a wooden paneled door leading to the private hot spring that came with the room you and gojo had unknowingly reserved.

gojo stretched leisurely, his body arched like a cat as he yawns, “i don’t know about you but i’m beat! that curse wore out all my energy and a quick dip in an onsen is just what this body needs.” he opens one eye, gauging your reaction.

you don’t buy his act. “you exorcised the curse instantaneously, gojo.”

but gojo doesn’t back down easily, “yeah, well that took up a lot of cursed energy and now i’m drained,” he reasons. the white haired male solidifies his argument by collapsing on you just to show how fatigued he was. his dramatic show nearly sends you tumbling.

annoyance simmered in you, arms folding over your chest. the flight back to tokyo was in a couple of hours, and you had hoped to be able to go sightseeing.

but gojo’s sky-blue eyes plead silently as they look up at you, unblinking. his pink lips start to quiver. it was hard to deny him when he was basically begging. as comical as his dramatics were, you could almost argue how hard it was to resist his unwavering gaze. plus, he was the one that completed the mission singlehandedly.

“fine.” you yielded. “thirty minutes and then we leave.”

he perks up happily.

“great! let’s go!” without wasting a moment, he seizes your hand and practically skips to the entrance.

you recoiled, nearly shrieking, “you pervert! i’m not going in there with you! i’m going to go sightseeing.”

gojo looks at you like you’ve sprouted two heads.

“... then what’s the point of the onsen?” he looked at you incredulously. it deeply troubled you that someone so conniving could look so innocent.

your response is caught in your throat, leaving you flustered and unable to make eye contact. arms remained crossed, you mutter, “you’re insane if you think i’m stepping foot in an onsen with you.”

gojo’s tongue prodded at his cheek, lost in thought, “they do say you have to be insane to be a jujutsu sorcerer." he looks at you all enthused, "don’t be shy now, we’ve already slept together after all.” there’s a teasing lilt in his voice.

“we slept in the same bed– not together! don’t you go spreading that around now,” you jump to cup a hand over his mouth. you feel him grin underneath the palm of your hand.

“same thwing,” gojo’s voice is muffled, but he doesn’t bother taking your soft hand off his face.

“it is not,” you furrow your eyebrows.

“it can be.” he wiggles his eyebrows, a boyish smile growing.

you remove your hand from his face, “have you no shame?”

“not a shred,” he declares cheerfully. “come on, we’re wasting precious time standing here. i can feel the steaming water calling our names.”

“i’ve told you already, gojo. i’m not going to a hot spring naked with you.”

he waves his hand dismissively, “you don’t have to be naked, it’s not unheard of for people to go in with a towel.”

you sigh exasperatedly at his stubborn disposition, “it would still be highly inappropriate.”

“as inappropriate as cuddling with your classmate while he’s naked and unconscious?” he raises an eyebrow suggestively. gojo was once again referring to the previous night’s moment of vulnerability.

you stiffen.

“it was not like that and you know it. for all i know, you were the one cuddling me,” you retorted, crossing your arms with a huff.

gojo raises his hands in defense, “how about we call it even and hop in the hot spring together as a compromise?”

“that doesn’t make any sense.”

“it makes perfect sense. just two classmates relieving the weight of the world off their shoulders.”

you hate that he’s starting to convince you.

the knowing smile creeping on gojo’s face signals that he’s sensed your weakening resolve. he decides to deal the finishing blow.

“this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. with busy lives like ours, who knows the next time we will be able to visit one of the world’s best hot springs?” he gestures dramatically. reluctantly, you start to give into his words.

“fine. but if i see you indecent, i will kill you.” you point a finger threateningly at gojo.

he simply chuckles, “kinky.”

operation satoru x [name]!!!!

gojosatowu attachment: 1 image

shoko.ieiri what the actual hell gojo. i did not need to see a picture of you with nothing but a towel on. ts is disgusting.

getosugu where is [name]? i thought you guys were returning from your mission today.

gojosatowu heh the two of us are going to take a little dip in kyushu’s world famous onsens haha :3

shoko.ieiri WHAT

getosugu you?? [name]?? onsen?? together?? gojo satoru explain hello?

shoko.ieiri where is [name] you dirty pervert i swear i’ll murder you if you pull any dirty tricks answer now

gojosatowu gotta go! ive been dreaming of this day ><

shoko.ieiri don’t you go ignoring us!!

you’re already settled in the hot spring by the time gojo arrives. with a snug towel secured tightly around your body, you are submerged underwater from the chest down. the steam curls lazily into the air, casting a dreamlike haze around you.

“for someone that was excited about the onsen, you came awfully late,” you quipped at the snow-haired boy. his signature glasses are absent, allowing you complete access to his azure eyes. on the other hand, gojo is granted the opportunity of seeing you in all of your natural beauty.

gojo enters the steaming water just a couple of feet away from you, “had to calm myself before seeing you.” he sighs contentedly when the water envelopes him. it was true. his nerves were a lot calmer when he was fighting the grade one curse than the short walk from the changing room to the hot spring.

you can't help but roll your eyes at his obvious flirtation attempt, but you decide to let it slide.

the conversation lapses into silence, an awkward veil settling between you. you were starting to regret ever entertaining gojo’s invitation to the onsen. to escape the discomfort, you divert your gaze to the steam rising from the water's surface and the surrounding rocks. the trees around you start to look interesting as you focus on not letting you eyes stray on gojo’s solid buil—

breaking the silence, gojo interjects, "did ya think i looked cool taking down that curse?"

your eyes shift from the rocks to gojo’s face, “it was quite impressive how you were able to crush the curse with your infinity.” you have heard of stories of gojo’s strength, but seeing it with your very own eyes was truly incredible.

he preens under your praise, a faint blush coloring his cheeks.

"perhaps i deserve a reward," he suggests, his voice taking on a playful tone.

you entertain the idea, your curiosity piqued. "i suppose you do."

a deeper flush tinges gojo's cheeks, and he averts his gaze. without warning, he points at his cheek, anticipating something. you tilt your head, puzzled by his unspoken request. he keeps pointing to his cheek, poking it multiple times.

“…”

“give me a kiss!”

the water ripples with how fast you lean back, “huh? no way.”

undeterred, gojo shakes his head. "fine then. i guess i'll have to kiss you.”

your eyes widen as he leans closer, and you instinctively scoot away, surprised by his boldness. "what? no!"

“eh?! why not? i went total snowagumon on that curse!”

“that’s your job gojo,” you respond matter-of-factly. you’re a bit taken aback by his digimon reference. how dorky.

gojo clicks his tongue, feigning indignation as he looks away. “hmph. can’t even get appreciation for keeping the world in balance.”

you let out a resigned sigh, realizing he's being dramatic again. it almost feels like dealing with a child. but you suppose you’ll play right into his hands this time– and this time only. he has worked hard on this mission, taking on all the work while you watch idly from the sidelines.

hesitantly, you inch closer towards his frame. the distance closes as you lean towards his face. it was only a split second, but your lips placed a chaste kiss on his cheek.

you watch what once was a pink blush blossomed into something deeper. gojo sits up a little straighter and you notice how the corner of his lips are slightly upward.

“gojo, are you oka–”

“satoru. call me satoru,” he interjected, sounding breathless, his eyes locking on yours.

you look at him, uncertain. “isn’t that a bit too informal? we’ve only known each other for a couple of months.”

“if it was up to me, we’d be married by now,” satoru closes his eyes nonchalantly, sinking deeply into the water until half of his face is under. he blows a series of bubbles. he really was a child.

your laughter rings out melodiously as you throw your head back, finding his remark utterly amusing. “you’re actually ridiculous.”

satoru watches you with a soft smile, his heart feeling lighter. it was criminal how cute you were. if this was his reward for exorcizing a measly grade one curse, he was willing to wipe out all special grades on the earth just to receive your praise again. maybe next time you'll even kiss him on the lips (he'll die a happy man if that happens).

"i am, aren't i?" he muses, basking in the joy of the moment.

extra notes. i lowk hate this but due to popular demand i had to write it. ps i dont even know anything abt digimon i js know gojo likes it gn (forgive me if my digimon reference was totally wrong)

#kt.writes.·:*¨༺#gojo then goes to ask you if he was a good cuddler #you dont answer the question and he's pouty all the way back to tokyo #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojou x reader #remember spring days!au

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wolfofansbach · 8 months

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BEING A LIST OF THE THIRTEEN GREATEST RIVERDALE LINES, ON THE OCCASION OF THAT SHOW'S TERMINATION

As our much loved/hated show comes to an end, I feel compelled to record, for posterity, the greatest thirteen pieces of dialogue to spring from the pens of RAS and his henchmen. It was, of course, originally a top ten list, but I simply could not exclude a few of these treasures. Without further ado:

13.

“I dropped out in the 4th grade, to sell drugs, to support my nana.”

“That means you haven't known the triumphs and defeats, the epic highs and lows of high school football.”

Spoken by: an inmate of Leopold and Loeb Juvenile Detention Center, and Archie Andrews.

In: 3 x 2

Yeah, okay, this one had to be on the list. It’s funny, I’ll admit. It’s a great example of the overwrought semi-sincere melodrama that helped make this show so special. It’s low on the list largely because The Normies got their hands on it, so every time I hear someone make a reference I get all “do not cite the deep magic to me, witch.”

12.

“No! No! What are we supposed to do now? I’m horny as heck!”

Spoken by: Archie Andrews

In: 7 x 16

Season 7 is undeniably dreadful, and yet there are diamonds in the rough. The occasion is the failure of a projector, just as Archie and Reggie prepare to watch a pornographic film. The utter desperation with which KJ Apa delivers this line is exquisite. One is made to feel they are witnessing a genuine tragedy.

11.

“Tonight, they’re making an exception and debuting a cover of the song my parents claim they were listening to the night Jason and I were conceived.”

Spoken by: Cheryl Blossom.

In: 1 x 1

Really a fantastic line. A wonderful encapsulation of the casual absurdity of Cheryl’s character, and a foretaste of the lunacy we would plumb in later episodes and seasons.

10.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m weird. I’m a weirdo. I don’t fit in and I don’t want to fit in. Have you ever seen me without this stupid hat on? That’s weird.”

Spoken by: Jughead Jones

In: 1 x 10

A genuine classic. “High school football” before “high school football.” One is never entirely sure just how sincere the line is meant to be, both on a meta-level and in-universe. A perfect illumination of Jughead’s pretentiousness. It is made all the better by the occasional cuts to Lili Reinhard’s agonized face.

“At the last dance, multiple students were murdered.”

Spoken by: Principal Holden Honey.

In: 4 x 2

Delivered as an explanation to Toni and Cheryl, as to why there would be no school dance this year. Principal Honey is in fact supremely rational in the cancellation of this dance. This being Riverdale, he is of course treated as an unreasonable tyrant.

“Bro, I know all the secrets of this universe.”

Spoken by: Archie Andrews (evil version)

In: 6 x 5

Spoken as evil Archie reveals his evil plan to keep the parallel universes apart. KJ Apa’s delivery once again makes this line. He is comically sinister. Strangely, he sells it.

“A Vughead kiss, right now, in the present might be precisely what it takes to save a future Bughead from imploding.”

Spoken by: Jughead Jones.

In: 2 x 14

One of those lines that both makes me laugh and makes me genuinely angry. This was a fairly early season, and this may have actually been the first line to get me asking, ‘did they genuinely write and deliver that?’ Extra points for use of the atrocious ‘Vughead’ portmanteau ship name rather than ‘Jeronica.’

“I’m the ultimate wild card. I am the daughter of The Black Hood. The nightmare from next door. I’m training with the FBI and I’m coming for you, you psycho bitch.”

Spoken by: Betty Cooper

In: 4 x 14

Just delicious. Another one of those lines that leaves you somewhat unsure whether or not the writers understood how genuinely hysterical it was. “The Nightmare from Next Door” sounds like an announcer hyping up a wrestler. Spoken with a raw sincerity by Lili Reinhart. Also points for the heavy homoeroticism between Betty and Donna.

“For I am Cheryl Blossom, Queen of the Bees.”

Spoken by: Cheryl Blossom.

In: 5 x 16.

This one really doesn’t require any elaboration.

“Elijah ascended…and I will, too.”

Spoken by: Edgar Evernever.

In: 4 x 5.

Admittedly, this one is only spectacular with context. But in context—the context being that Chad Michael Murray delivers this line while dressed like Evel Knievel and standing in a cartoon rocket right out of a Warner Bros cartoon—it becomes utterly magnificent.

“It’s not queer baiting, it’s saving the world.”

Spoken by: Veronica Lodge.

In: 6 x 22.

It’s actually hard for me to decide whether this one is funnier with or without context. Without context it’s wonderful, but it possibly becomes even funnier when you know that the context is that Veronica needs to kiss Cheryl to transfer superpowers into her body so she can turn into a Scarlet Witch knock-off and stop a magic comet summoned by Sephiroth an English wizard who is also the Devil.

“If there’s no wedding reception, it means the Gargoyle King has won.”

Spoken by: Kevin Keller.

In: 3 x 12.

One of my personal favorites. This is a perfect line because like #3, it requires no real elaboration. There is absolutely no context in which it isn’t hysterical.

1 .

“Word of my exploits serving Nick his comeuppance has seeped into the demimonde of mobsters and molls my father used to associate with, so the five families are sending their youngest and brightest, their ‘princes,’ as it were to, well, come court the rare Mafia Princess who can belly up to the bar with the big boys.

Spoken by: Veronica Lodge.

In: 2 x 20.

This is, in my opinion, the all-timer. Every word is perfect. The rapid-fire alliteration. The use of the word ‘demimonde.’ The entirely unnecessary addition of ‘as it were.’ This is borderline Dr. Seuss. The fact that Camila Mendes delivered it without cracking a smile should have won her an Emmy. No. An Oscar. This line is Riverdale.

#riverdale #veronica lodge #jughead jones #betty cooper #archie andrews #kevin keller #cheryl blossom #edgar evernever

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babyleostuff · 23 days

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baby, you’re a drunk mess

fluff 𐙚 established relationship 𐙚 idol!wonwoo x fem!reader 𐙚 wc: 958

. . . being drunk is not that bad when you have wonwoo to take care of you

wonwoo knew exactly how this night would end the second he received a message from seungcheol, inviting you over for a drink. it never ended with only a drink.

„baby, lean on me,” wonwoo grabbed you tighter by your waist, as you stumbled over your own feet, trying to act as if you weren't totally waisted. “i’m going to kill mingyu for making her play that drinking game”.

„m’ fine,” you mumbled. „see, i can walk on m’ own,” you took his hand that was resting on your hip, and shoved it away, taking a step forward. wonwoo smirked at your weak attempt to push him away, considering you were drunk out of your mind, but your confidence that you were so much stronger than him was truly comical. he knew he shouldn’t have let you go, but maybe if you eventually ran into a wall or something you’d cooperate better because there was no way he’d get you home with you acting like this.

wonwoo could only shake his head in amusement, while following your every slow step. there was no way he’d actually let you fall. „you’re doing great, sweetie, but let me help you, hm?” you whipped your head around, glaring at him. „i can do it,” you hiccuped, „on m’ own,” you said, but as you took another step, you stumbled once again, falling right back into your boyfriend’s embrace.

„are you done?” he shifted you around, so he could hold you properly, taking most of your body weight on him. you nodded, and put your hands around his bicep, finally calming down. wonwoo slowly started walking towards your apartment, holding you tenderly, and even though he didn't have to see your drooping eyelids, he could feel your energy dropping with every step.

somehow he managed to open the door and get you to the bed without either of you falling over. "okay, now let's lie down," he said quietly so as not to startle you, seeing that you were already half asleep. you nodded weakly, and with his help, you finally managed to lie on the bed.

wonwoo stroked your head gently and kissed your slightly sweaty forehead before turning on the bedside lamp next to the bed so he could turn off the main light and enflug your room into soft darkness.

„wonwoo,” you called softly.

„i’ll be right back baby, we have to wipe your makeup off.”

after turning off the light, he quickly went to the bathroom where he took all the things he would need to put you to sleep. "i'm coming," he said, grabbing one of his t-shirts and hoodies from the closet in case you were cold at night (especially since he knew that when you were drunk you became clingier and wearing his clothes always made you so happy).

he put all the things on the bed and grabbed your hands. "come on honey, you need to change." happy that you were cooperating so much better than you were fifteen minutes ago, he easily helped you change into his clothes and placed you back on the pillows so he could wash off your makeup.

“you don't have to do this, wonwoo,” you whispered, but when he placed a cotton pad on your face, you closed your eyes and sighed, grateful that you had someone who could take care of you so well. "Was I very insufferable today?"

wonwoo didn’t even move, he just continued to focus on your face, slowly removing more of the makeup from your face. "you're never insufferable," he said. "don't ever say that."

"i know, but i feel like i ruined your night because you have to take care of me and-"

"do you want me to get mad at you?" he asked sharply, looking straight into your tired eyes. "you didn't ruin my night. being with my brothers and you at the same time is the biggest gift from the universe, no matter how drunk you are. i'm your boyfriend, i'm here to take care of you, just like you take care of me ,” he said, throwing out a used cotton pad. "should i remind you how many things you do for me when i'm busy at work? how you prepare my food for rehearsals, and how you do my laundry when i'm too tired to do it? when you listen to me complain for hours about how exhausted i am?"

"baby, drunk or not, i will always take care of you, and not because i have to, or because it's my duty, but because i love you," he said with sincerity in his eyes, and despite your not-so-sober state, you didn't miss his look full of love. "seeing you having fun with my friends means everything to me." you nodded slightly in understanding. what did you do to deserve jeon wonwoo?

"okay, make-up removed, clothes changed, do you need anything else?"

"maybe water?"

"of course, let’s just get you under the covers."

after covering you up, wonwoo went out to the kitchen to get a glass of water and painkillers for tomorrow morning and returned to your bedroom.

“okay, now we can-,” his words faltered when he saw you already asleep, your hand on his pillow, and you snuggled into yours. he placed the glass and pills on your bedside table quietly, and turned off the light before lying on his side of the bed, lifting your hand and placing it on his stomach. almost as if you knew in your sleep that he was next to you, you placed your head on his chest, treating it like your new, comfy pillow.

"i'm a drunk mess," you whispered after a while, kissing his jaw.

"yes. but you're my drunk mess."

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satorhime · 1 year

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front row seat + gojo satoru ── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ content : minors do not interact, f!reader, explicit smut, pussy drunk!gojo, hentai tropes ( internal view / satoru uses his six eyes ), messy sex, squirting, mating press. w.c ˓˓ 2k ˓˓

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ synopsis : sometimes you forget that your boyfriend sees everything.

“h-honey, i ever tell you how pretty this pussy is?”

he has, multiple times, because satoru is obsessed with watching you while he fucks you.

in a way, you don’t blame him. the two of you are beautiful together and on the days when your boyfriend is merciful enough not to fuck you flat into his mattress, you love lifting your gooey head up to watch the pretty bounce of your tits, the squishy sink of satoru’s cock disappearing into your pussy and how the taut muscles in his abdomen twitches, tensing up whenever you suck him in with a widowmaking squeeze,

but tonight satoru is … tonight, something has him frenzied.

his quicksilver blue eyes refuse to close down, and no matter how good he feels inside you, he refuses to throw his head back in ecstasy. it’s like he’s watching the performance of the century, one such cinematic masterpiece that he can’t afford to miss and you’re the pretty young starlet acting centerstage.

his gaze trails all over every inch of your plush body, from the way he leaves his fingerprints in the soft dimples of your hips, the tousel of your hair as you thrash against the pillows underneath him, and now his new personal favorite— a sight only his six eyes are allowed to see.

a sweet treat he’s never thought to indulge in before now, the fact that if he drags his gaze down to your body and let the six eyes focus a little further, past your soft belly until it becomes a translucent screen to him, he can see everything. it feels perverse, being able to watch the raw way he fucks into you but it’s so intoxicating, maddening and white hot, how heavenly you look spread out underneath him with your cunt laid bare to his eyes, he wouldn’t be able to resist it if he tried–

so he watches, milky lashes fanning out over petal-pink cheeks as his lidded eyes focus below your hips, right between the jiggle of your thighs. “g-god,” he moans out through gritted teeth, lilting baritone low and shaky. he’s sitting back on his heels, chin tucked to his chest and lip bitten raw. sweat drips from his brows onto your belly in rivulets and he’s attempting to rally the last bit of self-control he has in order not to absolutely wreck you as he watches himself fuck his cock deep into your weeping pussy. “wish you could see how easy this little lady’s opening up f’me, angel.”

“nnngh, i can’t see-!” you squeal, and you don’t know if it’s because of the sticky tears blurring your big doe eyes or because it’s one of those nights where he fucks you flat, where the weight of his cock leaves you writhing and unable to move properly. where the only thing you can do is toss your head back against the pillows and take what he gives.

how such an innocent night ended up like this so suddenly, you don’t know. your head had been on satoru’s strong chest, cocooned in his infinity while his arm was curled behind his own head, scrolling aimlessly through a shady porn website on your phone with the intention of finding a cheesy hentai episode for the two of you to watch and dissect for jokes, a tradition in your relationship when you were in between streaming shows. satoru ended up choosing one from your recently watched, and as the two of you watched the exaggerated, almost comical movements of the animated couple fucking on the screen, you had expected his boyish jokes to begin and make you giggle, but he’d been silent— eyes darkening with something worse than lust at the sight of the x-ray view of the male character’s engorged cock sinking deep into the female character’s pussy while she wailed and babbled incoherently.

this what gets you hot ‘n’ bothered when i’m not around, angel?

the rest is hazy, lost in the way you’re splayed out on the sheets now, knees bent to your shoulders and fingers desperately digging into the backs of your trembling thighs to hold them in the air for gojo. the position is uncomfortable and you’re not flexible like that, joints in your poor hips aching but you don’t care, not when he’s got your breasts bouncing lewdly with each repeated, dirty slam of the tip of his cock right up against your womb until you can practically feel him in your throat, stealing the desperate screams right from your vocal cords.

“that’s a real shame, princess,” he coos, an egoistic smirk on his lips but it falters when you squeeze ‘round him just right, sore cunt twitching against the hard swell of his cock. his ocean blues dim, fingernails scratching against your squishy sides for leverage not to fuck deeper but to push you away because while he’s practiced, you feel too fucking good and he needs a minute, damn it, he’ll cum too fucking fast and ruin the perfect view of your cunt and it’ll be all your fault—

“wah-why did you stop-... please, miss your cock so much,” you simper, needy.

but he ignores your sweet little cries, drawing his hips back until his cock slips out of you and he lays it flat against your seam, greedily drinking down how fucking pretty you look beneath him like this, so good for him in the way you struggle to hold those sweet thighs up so he can have easy access to an even sweeter cunt. he wraps one hand around the root of his sticky girth, can’t help himself when he slaps the tip hard against the hood of your clit, just to earn that cute little yelp you make. “you’re so good for me always, sugar. such a good girl, huh? but i’m not sure of that anymore after tonight. you’ve been holding out on me.”

“w… wh- i am a good girl-”

“but that’s okay,” he cuts you off. “i’ve got a front row seat now. know why?”

he loves watching the pretty picture that confusion paints on a fucked out expression like yours. you fumble for the answer like a teacher’s pet, even though you’re distracted by grinding your clit against the tip of gojo’s cock for desperate, greedy friction. you’re too drunk on him to understand the true meaning behind those slurred out words and he knows it. head always caught up in the pleasure simmering in your belly that you forget the man fucking you is considered the strongest sorcerer in the world for a reason and oh … oh, there it is.

sometimes you forget that he views the world differently than normal men. the x-ray porn you secretly like may be an unrealistic act seen only in hentai, but gojo satoru wouldn’t be the strongest sorcerer if he couldn’t bring fiction into reality.

“y-you can see inside me,” you whisper, a little awed, and the thought of it is so fucking hot. you squeeze around emptiness when he nods, wanting to suck his tip right back into your tight pussy and you can practically feel the slick dripping out of you as he flashes a devastating, heartbreaker smile at you. “the six eyes. y-you can see how much i want you to fuck me again.”

“smart girl,” his praise warms your veins until your blood feels honeyed, running through you thick and slow. gojo flicks the tip against your clit one last time for the road before he reaches down, spreading one side of your folds open so he can nudge at the creamy ring to your cunt. “i can see everything.”

“i can see how this little cunt is stubborn, how she never wants to stretch properly f’ me, the way she twitches when i hit it just right. i can see everything,” and he can, his technique zeroing in on his girth sinking in and stretching you wide, his answering whine almost louder than yours, eyes threatening to clamp shut as he feeds you the long stretch of his cock once more. the air in the bedroom of his penthouse makes your bodies slippery with sweat while you squirm underneath him on hot sheets, your breath wheezing out of your lungs until you can’t breathe. “look at that.”

“i- hng, can’t-!”

it’s a hotter fuck like this, knowing those pretty blue eyes can see every rib and ridge of the inside of your pussy. that satoru knows the exact way your gummy walls, pretty pink against the white of his cock, look when you swell and squeeze for the stinging stretch, smeared in his precum. it makes you feel delirious— expression cracked wide open with pleasure, tongue lolling out of your pretty mouth, gaze fluttering releasing desperate whines as gojo fucks too fast, cockhead bullying your g-spot into overstimulation so that you can’t even fight it when you gush, the lewd sound of slick squelching out of you burning heat into your cheeks.

“look at you, squirtin’ all over me, angel,” gojo groans, stamping down the fast approach of his orgasm as arousal streams down the curve of your ass, wetting his expensive sheets. watching the way your swollen, puffy pussy spasms and tries to force him out but it only makes him drive deeper, his pace brutal— his hips rouged red from the friction of your bodies slapping together. “prettiest pussy in the whole world. you know that?”

“y'r gonna cum inside me, right 'toru? s-so i'll look even prettier?” you simper under the praise, big doe eyes staring up at him behind a dreamy haze.

“shouldn't have said that, sweet girl. ooooh, f-fuck. you shouldn't. have. said. that. fuck fuck fuck, i'm gonna put my cum right here, ” he babbles desperately, a big hand splaying out on your belly, pressing down hard as his thumb dips low, circling your sticky clit almost desperately. the words punctuated by the heavy slap of his balls against your ass, headboard knocking violently into the wall. his spine tenses, orgasm building in the pit of his gut and he can’t wait to see it, the sight of his cum painting against your pretty walls. “and you're gonna take care of it f’ me, aren’t you? promise ‘toru you won't spill a drop?”

“i promise-! i promise i promise i promise, give me your cum- ‘toru- pleas-”

“shut up, angel face. you’re about to make me miss the best part of the movie.”

#little novels.#gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk thirsts #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you

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my-love-is-sunlight · 2 months

Text

one piece men react to you screaming their full name

ft. Ace, Zoro, Sanji

SFW, mentions of alcohol and smoking, gn reader

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ .ᐟ ᡣ𐭩

Ace

“PORTGAS D. ACE” your voice resonates through all the walls, rooms and every nook and cranny from the Moby Dick. The mentioned stood frozen at the dinner table fork still full of food, he knew better than to run away

“What did you do now?” Marco asked eyes wide open

“Nothing!… that I remember” Ace scratched the back of his head trying to make memory of his recent activities, searching for whatever may had upset you

Marco laughed in disbelief “You’re a dead man” he said before taking another sip of his drink

You entered the room, stomping your way to your clueless boyfriend “May I have a word with you?” The tone and the politeness of the sentence made Marco fear for his dear friend. Ace nodded before he stood up and followed behind smile beaming in hopes you’ll have some mercy. A chorus of teasing ‘UUUUH’s were heard as you exited the dining room.

“Have I told you how radiant you look today?” Ace leaned over to kiss your cheek but you ducked making him loose his balance

“Don’t start with me Portgas” a shiver ran down Ace’s back, both from fear and… something else.

“You did this” you held a pillow cover in front of his face “You burned my only bed sheets, and you’re getting me new ones even if you end up in debt with everyone on this ship”

Ace was attracted to you all the time, but there was something in the way you would always stand your ground and how gorgeous you looked right now that was knocking him out of his feet. He placed his hand in the one were you held the pillow cover and pulled you in for a hug

“Im sorry sweetheart I’d get you new ones on the next island, you can borrow mine for now” you rolled your eyes and sighed, he got you wrapped all around his finger and he knew it, you couldn’t be mad at him for long

“Of course I’m taking yours, you sleep at my bed every night anyways… but wash them first” Ace picked you up and pampered your face with kisses “You look so hot when you’re angry

Zoro

“RORONOA ZORO” you screamed while exiting to the deck where he was working out, all of the straw hats looked back at Zoro in fear, Sanji holding in a laugh

Few things made this man flinch but he couldn’t help but catch himself lose balance when he heard his full name exit your lips in such an angry tone followed by your big stumps getting louder as you got closer

Everyone wrapped up whatever they were doing and ran off to the kitchen, leaving Zoro to face his demise alone

“What now?” He played it off trying to sound as nonchalant as he could not even looking your direction

“How many times have I asked you to not leave your sake around my desk?” If looks could kill your boyfriend would be a dead man

“Where am I supposed to put it then?” He scoffed crossing his arms in front of his chest, he looked at you for a second and his heart clenched at the cute way your brows furrowed and your arms rested on your hips

“Oh! I don’t know maybe, just getting silly here, IN THE PANTRY WHERE IT BELONGS!” Zoros condecency was driving you insane making your tone scale

The swordsman noticed how you were getting tense and teardrops threaten to run down your cheeks, he sighed a little embarrassed he had made you this upset. He cupped your cheeks while he apologized in that soft tone he reserved just for you

“I’m sorry I forgot to put it away last night, it won’t happen again I promise” he drew comforting circles around your cheek as he whispered

“It got all over my notebooks” oh so that’s why you were so shaken up

“I’ll clean it up baby” your boyfriend kissed your forehead as he made his way to the kitchen for a towel, as he opened the door every crew member fell comically on top of each other, they were ears dropping as they do.

Before Zoro could complain, your sweet laugh was heard at the distance which made him smile a little “You should listen to her mosshead” Sanji muttered which made the swordsman’s smile drop and scream back at him

Sanji

“BLACK LEG SANJI” even though you were screaming at him, the cook couldn’t help but feel his heart flutter at the way you wouldn’t use his birth last name as you knew he despised it and what it stand for, instead raging while using his public name.

You stormed in the kitchen eyes fixed on him, even angry Sanji thought you were breathtaking

“Yes my world?” he beamed a smile at you which you didn’t know if it annoyed or charmed you

“What have I said about smoking indoors?” Sanji felt the air get stuck in his throat, his eyes drifted from yours in shame

“I uhm-“ he laughed nervously as you got closer and closer cornering him against the counter, both hands caging him while they rested on said counter

“You know damn well I hate when my clothes smell like cigarettes, now imagine how I feel when my whole room stinks” you grabbed Sanjis tie to move his face closer to yours without breaking eye contact, you knew exactly what to do to make him a nervous wreck

The blondes heart couldn’t help but skip several beats at the way you were acting right now, he felt bad about upsetting you but he could get used to this side of you

“My apologies love, you know I cant manage to go without a smoke and sometimes I don’t want to leave your side” he twitched when his gaze met yours as he tried to explain himself

“Well you better start to manage” with a torturous slow move you took the cigarette that hanged from your boyfriends lips and threw it on the floor before stepping on it to take it out “Or I’ll move out of the room” you smiled teasingly while exploring his handsome features, stopping at his lips.

The cook turned all shades of red and pink breathing heavily, squirming a “Yes ma’m” before you kissed him passionately and breaking it abruptly

You winked at him before leaving the poor poor man absolutely stunted and a hot mess

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ .ᐟ ᡣ𐭩

Hi! This is my first time doing this type of format so tell me what you think and feel free to request. English is not my first language so correct me if I made any mistakes.

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frannyzooey · 1 year

Text

One Bed

Joel Miller x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

A/N: Just shameless "there is only one bed" filth for the amazing beauty who is @jollyrancher87. Thank you for sending me your ask, my lovely - I hope you like it! ❤️

“Goddamn it.”

He sighs, his fingers curled around the straps of his backpack as he shifts his weight to one foot and you step around him to see what he is looking at.

Oh.

“I mean,” you start carefully, “At least there’s one?”

You both look at the set of beds in front of you: one perfectly fine, if not a bit worn and dusty, and the other one covered in a pool of water from a crack in the ceiling above. It’s been dripping on it awhile, long enough for silt and plaster to form a sort of sludge on the top of the comforter and you only imagine how thick the mold is underneath.

“Just take it,” he says, shrugging his pack off and you frown, shaking your head.

“You’re the one with the bad back, you take it. I’ll make do on the floor.”

Impatience and exhaustion flares bright in his reply, his expression one of frustration. “I’m not gonna let you sleep on the fuckin’ floor while I get the bed. Just take it. I’ll be fine.”

He places his pack on the floor, kneeling down to join it. Resting his head on the rough, dirty canvas and folding his tight arms across his chest, he looks so comically uncomfortable that you fight the urge to laugh.

“Jesus, Joel, get up.” You tap the toe of your boot against the heel of his and he looks up at you with a frown. “Look, it’s not huge or anything, but we should both be able to fit. Get up here.”

His eyes narrow, and you roll your eyes, turning away from him. You feel his gaze on you as you set your pack down and toe your boots off, placing them both at the end of the bed. Pulling back the covers, you lay down and tug them up and over you, laying still.

“You coming?”

There is a beat, and then you hear another deep sigh escape him from the floor.

“Fine.”

–

Practically asleep before his head hit the pillow, he wakes in the middle of the night. Not the sort of sudden jolt that he’s used to, but rather a slow, hazy pull from the depths that he’s often not afforded. He’s been sleeping deeply, and what wakes him is that he’s hot – too hot, uncomfortably hot. He moves to push away the covers when he touches something else instead - you.

You’ve wound around each other in your sleep: your face buried in the crook of his neck, your arms curled against the width of his chest, his leg tucked in between your own with his arm slung protectively over the curve of your side. He can tell you’re still asleep from your slow, steady breaths and he tries to carefully extract himself, but for every inch he moves back, you unconsciously press closer.

He tries to rouse you instead, his hand gently shaking your shoulder.

“Hey,” he whispers softly, in the dark. “Hey. Wake up.”

Expecting you to wake with a start, he tries not to think about how the only reason you’re probably so deeply asleep is his close proximity. How he himself slept just as deeply for the same reason.

He shakes you again. “Hey.”

Your eyes still closed, a small frown pulls between your brows. You tilt your face up, still half asleep and when your mouth brushes his, he freezes. He doesn’t move, abandoning the attempt to wake you and he thinks you’ve fallen back asleep when your arm unfurls from his chest, reaching up to cup his cheek. He lets you touch it for a moment, his eyes taking in your face in the dark.

Your mouth is so close to his he can feel warm puffs of your breath skimming over his lips, your face so close that he can see the fan of your thick lashes and your nose brushes against his in a sleepy nuzzle, seeking out his warmth. Your hand slides up into his hair, fingers threading into the thick strands.

He should pull back and stop this, but he doesn’t.

“Joel,” you whisper slowly, your mouth full and soft with sleep.

His eyes drop to it for a moment and it looks so plush and inviting that he can’t help himself.

When his mouth meets yours in a chaste press, you kiss him back with an unconscious purse of your lips, opening them just enough to fit his lower lip neatly between your own. He breathes you in, letting them rest together in a full, lush fit and then you’re giving him another one; a firmer, more conscious pressure. Another one yet, his hand cradling the soft curve of your cheek to keep you in place.

You fit yourself closer to him, your thighs tightening around his own and your nails drag over his scalp, his fingers pressing into the hinge of your jaw in a silent request to open yourself wider for him. You taste sweeter than he thought you would, your sleep-thick mouth warm and inviting and hungry and when he shifts to lean over you, you tug him on top of you instead.

You might have been sleeping before, but he knows you’re fully awake now even if you won’t open your eyes. Your movements are intentional, the width of his body heavy and solid between your legs, comforting in its weight and your head tips back into the pillow, pulling away from the kiss for some air. He doesn’t seem to need any, his mouth molding around the curve of your jaw before sliding down the length of your neck and he gives the sweet skin there open mouthed kisses, a slight suck to them. His teeth catch, and you quietly moan.

Bringing his mouth back to yours, his beard brushes against your skin, your tongue chasing his as you deepen the kiss and when he lets out a low groan into your mouth, you swallow it down, savoring it.

He sounds just like he does in your dreams, just like the way this feels. Slick and needy between your legs, you roll your hips up to meet his in a wordless invitation and he presses his down into you, making room for himself. Soon you’re grinding against each other in desperation: your achingly empty core seeking out the solid heft that you can feel pressed against you, his own need evident.

“Joel, I –,” you whisper into his mouth in between kisses, a pleading creeping into the word and he nods, knowing what you need.

His hand reaches down and fumbles with his belt, another groan pouring into your mouth when he feels the heat of you against the back of his hand and then he’s working on the button of your jeans, trying to work it open. You try to help, but it’s not fast enough for him and with your thumbs still hooked under the waistband to slide them down, he shoves his hand underneath everything to find your slick seam, filling you swiftly with two thick fingers.

“Fuck,” you whine, abandoning your plan and arching your hips into his hand. He curls his fingers and begins a grinding stroke, the digits a snug fit in their slick slide.

“Goddamn,” he groans, muscle memory making him reach for a spot inside. He finds it, rubbing the pads of his fingers against it and is rewarded with your breathless cry, and a tight clench. “You’re so fuckin’ wet for me. So wet. Gonna feel so good around my cock. Gonna make me come, with this sweet little pussy.”

His fingers work, work, work underneath your jeans and you can’t even answer him with how good it feels. You let your thighs drop open wider, your hands reaching down to splay over the curve of his ass and you meet every one of his strokes with your hips, forcing his fingers deeper. He looks down at you with hooded eyes, his mouth parted as he watches you take.

“I want a taste,” he breathes, pushing his fingers in as deep as they can go, down to the base of his bruised knuckles. “I want –” he kisses you greedily, panting into your mouth. “I want to taste it, but I –”

You want him to taste it too - Christ, you do – but you need him to fuck you right now more than you need air to breathe, so you wrap your hand around his wrist with a tug and he slips it out from your pants, your hands already working on shoving your jeans down. He understands, his weight abruptly leaving you to sit up and back on his heels and when he helps you strip them off along with your underwear, his body bows immediately to taste, but you stop him, pulling him back up to cover you.

He reaches between you to pull himself out, aching and thick and stiff in the calloused palm of his hand and since that is the sensation that he is used to, he groans loudly when he finds the dip of your entrance and fills you with a smooth, slick stroke.

You hastily shove the loose band of this jeans down further, needing to feel every inch of skin he’ll afford you and when his hips are a neat, flush fit against your own just like his mouth was earlier, you rock up to encourage him to move.

“You okay?” he asks, knowing just how much he is to take and you nod, your teeth biting into your plush lower lip.

“Yea, just – just move.” You raise your head off the pillow to kiss him, and when he dips his own to reach your mouth, he slides even deeper, his body relaxing on top of yours. The action steals the breath from your lungs, a soft sound catching in the back of your throat and he pulls his hips back just enough to feel the friction of you before sliding home again. Again, again.

Your thighs hitch higher around his waist, your hands slipping under his thick flannel, splaying over his muscles flexing under your hold. His hand curls around the crown of your head, keeping you in place as he feels you shift up the mattress underneath him with every thrust and between the skill of his mouth and his hips, you can’t think of anything but him.

You wish you could feel him wholly: feel his firm, bare body against yours, feel the sparse hair that covers his thighs and trails low over his belly, feel sweat collect where your body is joined as he moves above you - but you’ll take what you can get, in this room in the middle of nowhere, in this bed you were forced to share.

“I knew you would feel this good,” he says lowly, his eyes closing with a frown. “I knew it.”

He’s been thinking about it for ages, waking up hard night after night, finding relief in his hand when he gets a moment alone and now that he has you, he can’t stop himself from going harder, deeper. The damp heat of your mouth rests just under his jaw, your gasps reaching his ears like the sweetest sound he’s ever heard and it makes him swell even more inside you; a bright flare of heat gathering at the base of his spine.

You hook your ankles higher on his back, your hands bracing themselves on the mattress to help you force the angle just right and his hips are a rhythmic pound against the inside of your thighs, his jaw clenching with effort. He switches into a grind the wetter you get, his hand coming up to cup your chin and force your mouth to meet his, and your fingers dig into the meat of his forearm, holding on.

Black skates around the edges of your vision, his scent and his sounds and his weight and strokes and thickness consuming you, and you just like in the shadowed blur of your dreams, you can’t say anything. Instead your body matches his need: your fingers gripping him in their desperate hold, your heels digging into the back of his thighs to push him deeper, your mouth memorizing his taste.

He was never a man of words to begin with, but they have all left him now, and he chases the flutter he feels around him, stoking it until you’re all but gasping underneath him in your breathless warning. He wants to hear you say it just like you do in his dreams and as if you can read his mind, you do.

“Joel,” you cry out, your lips brushing against his. “I’m – you feel too good, I –”

His hand drifts down to hold your hip, and he picks up his pace.

Your fingers twist in his flannel, hanging on as he tips you right over the edge and the frozen, taut lock of your body underneath him makes him spill his own release; some inside, some along the curve of your ass when he tries to pull out. He twitches against you, his cock a wet smear along your skin and even though you can feel him try to immediately pull back, you hang on tight to him, forcing him to stay close.

He’s breathing heavily and so are you, your eyes locked on each other.

He doesn’t know what to say. He shouldn’t have done it, shouldn’t have encouraged it, shouldn’t have taken advantage of your sleep muddled need and just when he’s about to open his mouth, you beat him to speaking.

A smile curls at the edge of your lips and his eyes drop to watch; he can never look away from your mouth.

“Thank god for one bed.”

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller/you #joel miller/reader #joel miller smut #joel miller the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfic

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bigfatbimbo · 2 months

Note

How does Vox angst sound? Something where the reader has to take care of an injured Vox?

I’m a Bad Liar with a Savior Complex —

1.5k words,, Vox x reader

summary — After a bad fight with Valentino, Vox seeks comfort in his bootycall, you.

warnings — Toxic relationships, abuse, manipulation, Vox being a dick, Valentino is his own warning, hurt/comfort

a/n — I think I went way too ham on this one. The request was “Vox angst” not a poorly written shakespeare play.

You weren’t expecting anyone that night, let alone your self proclaimed bootycall, Vox. The knock at your door was surprising on its own, but your amazement only grew when you opened it.

“Are you going to let me in—ozzz—or are you just going to st—aa—are?” He spoke through gritted teeth and with effort.

“Vox,” you place your hand on his shoulder and usher him in, “what the hell happened to you?”

Already familiar with your apartment, he flips down on the couch almost immediately and leans in head back.

Under the dim lighting of your one singular lamp, you take him in; screen cracked at the right corner, shirt disheveled, and from what you could see in his face, eyes tired and sunken.

“Oh not much—chh—“ He sighed, glitching slightly, “—just a peachy day in the park.”

You didn’t know what to do. Vox was no picnic, unfortunately, you knew that better than most. But you vaguely wonder what could have provoked this?

Vox was a smooth talker, he usually didn’t fail to charm people and kiss ass to get what he wanted. You doubt Alastor had time to cause that kind of damage these days, not to mention the interest.

So the one culprit for the mess that sat in front of you had to be… oh.

“Jesus. How’d you piss him off this time?” You genuinely ask, coming over to accompany Vox on the couch.

“Well—bzz— he’s always pissed about something. Today’s tantrum had nothing to do with the likes of—mhh—me,” Vox sighed deeply and winced as he sat up.

“Why, do you like the new look?” Coming from anyone else, the comment would have been an attempt to lighten the mood. However, Vox only meant to condescend the baffled look in your eyes.

‘Why are you just sitting there? Help me,’ his eyes, well, what’s left of his eyes said.

You sigh and get up, stopping to stare down at him one last time, “So, what do we need to fix this?”

He contemplated for a moment, “Well, I got the hell out of dodge before I had the chance to grab a spare—szc—screen so—“ he pointed to the area around his face, “anything to stop my fucking face from chipping off would be great.”

“So, like what? Fucking ducktape?” your attempt at a joke fell flat when the expression on his face didn’t move.

He simply grimaced.

You frown and look longingly towards your kitchen, “I’ll see what I have.”

You end up settling for ducktape after all. A purely comical solution to what can only be described as a miserable situation.

You patched him up gently, your hand resting on the bottom of his screen and covering the chipped part, as delicately as possible, with ducktape.

“You know, it would be kind of funny. The ducktape, I mean,” you try to smile, “…but it’s not funny.”

For once in his entire existence, it seemed Vox had nothing to say. No smart-ass remarks or egotistical words fell from his mouth. Only quiet silence as he breathed shakily in and out.

You couldn’t help but analyze his actions in your head. He must be getting sick of it, being treated like garbage by Val, by Alastor, by everyone who should respect him.

Except Vox’s empire, his power, any of it couldn’t help in this regard. Valentino was apart of his life in hell, and quietly it was dawning on Vox that even he couldn’t talk his way out of this.

Not entirely anyway. They needed eachother in some sick sense. Vox knew this, and now it seemed so did you.

Your heart ached for the man. In all of his terrible ways he seemed to be finding that cruelty was a double sided sword. Except this time, he got stabbed straight through.

You finished patching him up in silence, before leaning down and placing a kiss on the top, undamaged side of screen.

Your thumb caressed the area of his cheek softly. He shut his eyes and leaned into the gentle touch, frowning deeply.

You sit down next to him once again. “You’re staying with me tonight, okay?”

He nodded weakly, partly because he didn’t want to upset his head injury. But also partially to show you how vulnerable he felt at the moment. Although an upsettingly subtle que, he gazed up at you in hopes you would just take care of him without him having to ask.

Thankfully you catch on. You guide him up from the couch and rub his back gently while leading him to the bedroom and sitting him down.

“I have some t-shirts and sweatpants in the closet. I’m gonna go get you some water,” you say, soothingly rubbing his back before leaving.

When you come back, he already changed into comfier clothing and set his work clothes on a chair near your bed, in order to not wrinkle them.

He lays curled up on the bed with his eyes open, looking as if he was about to cry. You cringe at the thought. You’d been awkward enough tonight, Vox crying did not need to add to that.

You come over to him with the iced cold cup, sit him up right, and place it in his hands.

“Drink,” you command. He does, without hesitation. Jesus, you think, Vox taking orders. Thats new.

After downing the whole glass in one large swig, he sets it on the bed side table.

“He threw a f—fff—ucking wine bottle at me,” Vox said glumly.

You were just happy he was talking again. You cuddle up close to him on the bed, taking him under your arm, trying not to mind the less than ideal way the corner of Vox’s screen poked into your jaw. Oh well, Vox seemed comfortable enough.

He curled closer to you, sinking into your side and shutting his eyes, but not with the intention of falling asleep.

“I’m sorry. He’s such a douchebag,” And what? Vox isn’t? Your inability to comfort him was weighing unbareabley on your mind. Do better.

“But you’re safe now, sweetheart,” you pull him closer to you under the blankets, “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

Vox hummed, the sides of his mouth flickering down as the lump in his throat grew tighter.

You kept going, “You handled it so well. You get to relax now, okay? Nothing bad’s gonna happen under my watch.”

It was stupid, Vox thought. He was an overlord, a powerful one at that. Protection was below him. But so was getting fucked up by his angry boyfriend and running off to his side pieces apartment, so who knows?

In hindsight, it was his fault. He was sloppy in his ways of manipulation tonight and Val had caught onto him. Well, in a figurative and literal sense, he supposed.

Oh, how the powerful fall at the feet of those closest to them. Serves him right.

He knows you aren’t stupid. You knew what he said earlier about how Val’s ‘tantrum had nothing to do with the likes of him’ was a lie.

And yet, here you were helping him. Vox couldn’t wrap his head around it. Just as he couldn’t understand why you continued spewing such comforting words.

Words that, if you asked anyone else, he didn’t deserve. He stopped himself from dwelling on it when he felt the tears brew in the corner of his eyes.

“I’m proud of you, Vox,” you speak softly.

He burrows his screen in your chest. “No, you’re not,” he whispers, grasping onto your shirt softly, “And I thought I was the—spzz— the liar.”

“I’m not lying. It takes a lot to survive that crazy ass moth. Let alone, everyday. I am proud of you,” you plant a kiss on the top of his head.

That was the breaking point. Vox tried to justify his tears in his mind; It’s not like he hadn’t already been embarrassingly vulnerable tonight, anyways. Could it get much worse?

For you, maybe. As the waterworks flowed, you shushed him softly and rubbed his back. Honestly, you were a little worried about the tears fucking up his system, because of all the cracks in his head.

Thankfully, you didn’t notice any changes, basic bodily function-wise.

You found Vox’s outburst of tears specifically alarming. He muttered little apologies throughout. However, it seemed less and less about the tears themselves.

He clung to you and his the remains of his face in your shirt, hoping you wouldn’t get pissed off at the wetness around your collar.

You let him cry, and shush him with small gentle words of praise. He looks up at you, screen slick and shiny. You lean down to give him a watery, but gentle kiss.

The sad part, you think to yourself, is that you know exactly what’s going to happen tomorrow.

Things will go back to normal, Vox’s walls will come back up as if this never happened, and he’ll continue seeing Valentino. He’ll act as if he never confided in you, and once again, you two will only be an occasional good-fuck.

There was no lesson in any of this. Almost as if the whole experience was completely futile. Nothing would change, and Vox and Val would continue in their toxic, horny, power struggle. Vox using Val to his advantage, Val getting pissed off and fucking him up.

What did you expect? Well, you’d just about accepted this fact when Vox, half asleep, all cried out, and sleepily drooling on your shirt, muttered three small words.

“I love you.”

a/n — link to part two is here

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel vox #vox x you #vox x reader #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin vox

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earthtooz · 1 year

Text

hurt/comfort blurb based off an ask @missmeinyourbones received :3

gojo x gn!sorcerer!reader, he's ridiculous, lovesick and dramatic in the one but that's how we like him here so. enjoy!!

“where is our couch?”

gojo looks up at you from his phone, grinning at you gently with the small smile that he always wears; one you’ve come to adore over the years. this time, however, it does nothing but irritate you because there is a large, vacant space in the living room that has ‘gojo satoru’ written all over it.

“what do you mean?” he asks but the lilt in his tone tells you everything you need to know.

that one, gojo has everything to do with your missing couch. two, you have fallen for his bait, successfully tricked into talking to him because three hours ago, you refused to acknowledge his existence after a heated argument that ended with you promising to sleep on the couch. yet after one harmless trip to the supermarket, you come back to discover that your bed for the night was missing.

and you know him well enough to know that his giddiness stems from the fact that you’re finally giving him the attention he’s been craving for the past few hours.

“where. is. our. couch?” you reaffirm, emphasising each word so they can get through his thick skull.

“is it not in the living room?”

he sounds almost delighted at this peculiar interaction, seeming proud of himself as his eyes shine with mirth. they bravely look into your frustrated and irritated ones.

“i am in no mood to bicker, gojo,” you begin, “either you tell me where our couch has gone or i kick you out.”

the sorcerer pouts from where he sits on the bed, curling into a ball as he stares up at you. the sight would’ve been more comical if you weren’t so mad. “that’s not very nice.”

“you don’t deserve nice,” you mutter, turning on your heels to walk away before gojo can melt you with those honeyed words of his. from the bedroom, you hear fumbling and rustling, followed by footsteps.

instead of paying gojo any mind, you go to the kitchen counter where you left the many bags of groceries you bought.

he rests his elbows on the kitchen island, subliminally begging for an ounce of your attention whilst you sort through the bags. “would you like some help?”

you give him a brief side-eye before resuming. his pout worsens.

“if i tell you what happened to our couch, will you promise to sleep on the bed tonight?” pleads the white-haired, “with me?”

you sigh, “yes.”

“i warped it somewhere.”

“what?” you almost drop the carton of eggs in your hold. “what do you mean ‘somewhere’?”

“somewhere in jujutsu tech, i’m not really sure.” he cringes at the glare you shoot him. “i was gonna get it back if you agreed!”

that was your last straw. running a hand down your face, you don’t see the way that your lover stares at you with hope from the corner of your eye.

“for goodness’ sake, why did you warp our couch?” you quiz.

“because you were going to sleep there,” he murmurs, “and i didn’t know how else to change your mind.”

“you’re twenty-three, gojo. you should know a thing or two about how to reconcile properly by now.”

his pout worsens at the use of his family name. “i am a man in love, y/n, do you know what they say about men in love?”

before you can even think of a snarky remark, realisation hits you like an anvil. whenever gojo uses his teleportation technique it always… leaves… something behind.

rushing over to the carpet that used to be under the couch, you almost have a heart attack when you lift it up and see the scorched marks that occur as a byproduct. the white-haired leans against the kitchen island innocently, whistling.

“and what are you planning on doing about this?” you shriek. you try to remain calm, really, but it’s hard to do so because gojo has an affinity for driving you to the brink of insanity.

“i will get someone to fix it, i promise!”

“and will they not be suspicious that there are marks in our floor?”

“a little bribery never hurt nobody, and i have a lot of money to bribe someone successfully. plus, i have connections in the jujutsu world!”

you drop the carpet, giving up. “i’m calling shoko to crash at hers for the night-”

“-then i’ll warp her house.”

“can you even do that? a couch is pretty impressive already.”

“so you think i’m impressive?”

“gojo.”

“i don’t know if i can teleport a house but i’m always willing to try.”

you hate him, you decide. “even if you could warp a house, you shouldn’t, because shoko will kick your ass.”

“but you’ll protect me, won’t you?”

you say nothing, merely glancing at your boyfriend before reaching for your phone in your pockets. however, before you could even unlock the device, gojo is beside you, crouched down to your level. he maintains a respectable distance, one that does not invade your personal space whilst fulfilling his need to be close to you.

“are you actually leaving?” he whispers brokenly, completely changing the atmosphere as his eyes begin to shine with tears that threaten to spill.

your words are lodged in your throat at the pitiful sight. whilst some part of your brain curses you for giving in so easily, the other part that loves gojo (who are you kidding, all of you loves him) begins to feel a little bad.

he continues, reaching for your hand to play with your fingers, “please don’t leave. i’m sorry for what i said when we were arguing. i love you,” he pauses for a second before adding as an afterthought: “a lot.”

gojo’s apology, although a little awkward and rushed, is nothing short of endearing, successfully quelling the waves of frustration and anger you’ve been feeling for the past few hours. although the hurt has not completely faded, it’s a little less suffocating to be around him now.

his life is far from normal, you understand that, and you realised that it would be something you had to deal with when you started dating him in your last year at jujutsu tech. but you fell for gojo because of his sporadicity. life may have not been the same ever since, but in a world where all you are gifted is targets on your back in exchange for keeping lives safe, his love is a refreshing oasis for you to return to when all is said and done.

even though he expresses it through unconventional ways, such as teleporting your couch because he was heartbroken at the prospect of being away from you, you think it’s a fair trade.

as a way of accepting his apology, you open your arms for him and the white-haired doesn’t even let a second pass by before he’s crashing into you.

it’s comforting, the way he holds onto you like you’ll slip from his grasp otherwise. “i’ll go get our couch back soon,” he mutters into you, squeezing your waist a little tighter.

“we’re having a moment, gojo, please don’t mention the couch or i’ll be angry again.”

“sorry,” the white-haired raises his head to look at you, “can i at least get nickname privileges back?”

“you’re ridiculous,” you huff, “no.”

#leah pls don't perceive me this is saur embarrassing #if u read this i will simply #idk what i will do but i will do something #it feels like the heavens is deciding my fate idk this is a lot of pressure HELP #i'm not totally happy with this one #but i was determined to get this out lol so #mediocre writing as always bc what else do i give you all <33 #i should get rid of this habit #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojou x reader #gojo x reader fluff #gojo satoru x reader fluff #gojou satoru x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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strawberrystepmom · 8 months

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nsfw - mdni. cw pregnancy mention but only as a joke (calls reader a MILF), marriage discussion. f!reader (has breasts, is refers to with feminine terms), gojo and reader are in a “semi established” relationship aka idiots in love. self ship coded. wc 1.1k

“Do you really think right now is the time for this discussion, Satoru?”

Your knees are pulled to your chest to make room for your almost comically oversized boyfriend in your apartments’ barely big enough for one bathtub. He’s all limbs and broad shoulders and big arms and the sight, while delectable, makes you feel annoyed as you try to soak away what remains of your own post-mission injuries.

There’s a laceration on your right elbow, a blooming bruise on the opposite bicep, a slash on your thigh. The worst of it was handled back at the school thanks to Shoko but you refused further treatment, knowing a nice soak and rest would fix you up. Gojo showed up unexpectedly as soon as he heard you’d been roughed up today, holding your hand reassuringly the entire time.

You should have known better that his offer to take you home and immediately leave was not as listed on the label. He entered your apartment, kicked off his shoes, and followed you straight to the bathroom without a single word. It’s how you ended up here.

“No time like the present if you ask me. Every other time I’ve asked you’ve said "let's talk about it later” and now it’s later.”

Sighing, you listen to the gentle slosh of the warm water over the lip of the tub as he slides in behind you. Two long legs frame your body and you lean back against him, back pressed to his chest while he reaches around and cups each of your goosebump prickled breasts and squeezes them playfully.

“You’re asking me to marry you while squeezing my tits and making honking noises? Am I getting that right?”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing, yes.”

He chuckles and kisses your jaw, right beneath your ear. It’s his favorite spot, so unassuming yet so intimate. He knows you dab a little perfume there to give him something to look forward to and despite the stress and soil of the day, he sniffs hard and presses an additional kiss.

You reward him with a giggle and he leans over the top of your head, wrapping himself around you and gently running his fingers along the little reminders of how rough today was on you.

It motivates him to press his question even further.

“We don’t have to get married tomorrow, you know. We’ve been at this for long enough that we can wait but it’s time, babe.”

You want to understand his thinking but continually come up short, wondering why he wants something so permanent all of a sudden. Maybe it’s getting older, maybe it’s wanting to have someone to come home to that is more than his semi live-in girlfriend. So without thinking too deeply about it, you ask.

“This isn’t a no or anything so don’t immediately jump there,” you rush to clarify before speaking what’s on your mind lest he get the wrong idea. “But why? Why now?”

The answers are so clear to Satoru that he doesn’t have to think about them for a moment more, instead rubbing his thumb gently around the blue outline of the bruise on your arm.

“I could ask you the same. Why not? Why are you so convinced marrying me would be bad?”

Marriage used to be something he considered would be a burden. Love seemed like the least likely reason he’d marry, perhaps instead marrying reluctantly one day for the sake of his clan or to have kids or something. It never had romantic connotations until the day he realized he wanted to marry you.

Three years ago, a night not that dissimilar to the one the two of you are currently sharing, the realization hit him like a speeding train he couldn’t avoid. It was a culmination of nearly ten years worth of feelings, sure, but he knew as sure as he knew his own heart that you were it. The One, as they say.

Your injuries that night were worse than these ones and Shoko privately shared her concerns with him that your left arm would never fully recover from where it was snapped clean above the elbow. She did everything she could to heal it and you were confined to a sling for several weeks.

He was all too eager to come and take care of you, a little taste of what waking up and falling asleep next to you every day was enough to easily confirm you were it. You are it, still, years later and many long nights and early mornings since. Your grumpy mornings, your lazy afternoons, your evenings spent counting the stars twinkling lazily above your heads on the little adjoining balcony you spent most of your time on.

He was already in love with you, hanging on your every word and vying for every piece of attention you’d give him, but he knew that the rest of his life would be senseless if he couldn’t spend it by your side. Seeing you be so fallible, so painfully human and fragile, terrified him but it motivated him just as much.

Here he sits, still motivated to make you his forever, and he says he isn’t a romantic.

Scoffing, you turn your head to look up at him and gauge how he’s feeling. His face is impassive, brow raised, and suddenly you feel guilty for making him think the reason you’re apprehensive about marriage is him. It isn’t him, it never has been. It’s you.

“Marrying you would be the best thing to ever happen to me, Satoru but I don’t think it would be the best thing to ever happen to you.”

Now it’s his turn to scoff incredulously, pulling your head against his chest so he can rest his chin on top of it. The water sloshes even more and you shift, trying to avoid the friction from your half damp skin against his but there’s no use. He’ll take a little pain if it means he gets to have you this close.

“I know it would be the best thing to happen to me. Ever. In all my life.”

You laugh, shaking your head and wincing as you bend your elbow and the soreness catches up with you. He moves to cradle your arm gently in one of his palms, using the other to keep your cheek pressed to his chest.

“I’m afraid you’ve finally convinced me,” you whisper and he laughs. You wince again as he shifts and drags you with him, water splashing over the edge of the tub while he situates you in his lap facing him the best that he can. Your chest presses against his and you’re face to face, his eyes searching you for any trace of second thoughts.

“You mean it?”

You cup his cheeks in your palms and nod, a coy smile breaking into a grin to mirror his own as he pulls your left hand away from his face and pulls it to his mouth to kiss the back of your ring finger.

“Yes, I’ll marry you. I’d be honored to be your wife even if I think you’re setting yourself up for a lifetime of disappointment.”

Dropping your hand, he slides his arms around your torso and picks you up squealing and thrashing while water drips off of your bodies and back into the tub below. It’s a distraction tactic, of course, to keep you from delving any further into your own fears and doubts, but a man will do what a man must to make his fiancé smile.

“I think I’m setting myself up for a lifetime of laughing and great food and watching you turn into a MILF.”

Snorting, you swat his chest playfully with one hand and reach for the towels on the rack next to you with the other. You dry his hair first, giggling with each funny face he makes until you finish and wrap the towel around his shoulders.

“Are you threatening to turn me into a MILF, sir?”

The blood rushes from his head further downward as he pictures the insinuation you’re making and he smiles devilishly.

“If that’s what you want, consider it a promise.”

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoken #kendall writes #I have no excuse this is pure self indulgence #cw pregnancy mention #cw marriage

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ruporas · 1 year

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can’t talk about it

[ID: Black and white comic of Vash and Wolfwood from Trigun Maximum. The comic starts with the sounds "thud, thud, click". Vash, mid-action of peeling an apple, turns to the sound, noticing who it was that entered, and says, "Oh, Wolfwood, you're back." He resumes back to his apple in the next panel as he speaks, "Where'd you go? You snuck out of bed quickly this morning..." Wolfwood's hand then enters the panel, hovering over Vash's cheek and Vash looks up as Wolfwood asks, "Can I?" Vash responds, "Not going to talk about it?" while using a hand to gently hold Wolfwood's hovering hand and presses a kiss to his inner palm.

Vash then gets up fully, setting down the knife down on the table and the apple onto a plate, He leans into Wolfwood as Wolfwood explains, "Had to meet someone. Nothing interesting to talk about." Vash kisses Wolfwood's left cheek and a hand moves to cup his other cheek while muttering, "You're being vague." Wolfwood says neutrally, "If yer really that curious, keep askin'. We can talk about that instead of doing this." Vash leans back and responds, "Let's talk after, since... You look so tired."

The panel pans to a close up of Wolfwood's downcast eyes, bags heavy underneath his eyes. He doesn't allow Vash to sit in that moment for long though, then saying, "Yer not helping, Spikey. Being all slow with it... I could fall asleep right now." He moves his hand to start unclasping Vash's coat, starting from his collar. Vash with red cheeks, responds briskly, "Oh, shut up. I'm worried about you. I can't be worried?"

The final shot shows Wolfwood's back to the viewer while Vash's softened expression can be seen as he holds gently onto the side of Wolfwood's face and a hand firm on his waist. Wolfwood responds, "I'm fine, seriously," pausing for a moment before continuing, "Is it okay to still..?" Vash responds, "Yeah, it's okay."

The next image is a shot from later that night after the previous comic. Vash and Wolfwood are now in bed, half naked. Wolfwood's buries his face into Vash's chest, his arms wrapped around him, while Vash is petting at his hair. Vash reminds him, "Hey. You said we'd talk about it." Wolfwood pauses for a moment before piping up, "In the morning? I'm sleepy." Vash says, "Okay..."

The next two pages start from the morning after. Wolfwood is already fully awake, pulling on his outer jacket as he says to Vash, whos' still bundled in his blankets, "Breakfast is on the table. Make sure to eat it. I'm going to grab some things in town and then we're leavin'. Got it?" Vash says, "Mh." Wolfwood responds, "Good. See ya in a bit." The dialogue starts to shift into Vash's inner thoughts now, as he gets up and eats toast, thinking, "Wait. Weren't we supposed to... talk about it?" The next shot then shows him fully up, meeting Wolfwood in town. He carries a half worried expression with him while Wolfwood slides on his glasses for him. A quick panel shows Wolfwood's tired expression from the night before and quickly juxtaposes with Wolfwood in front of him who's smiling gently, the shades covering his eye bags. Wolfwood asks him, "Still not awake yet?" Vash pauses, his thoughts stirring, thinking, "Oh. I guess I was getting ahead of myself... thinking you owe me that kind of honesty." He smiles at Wolfwood and responds, "I'm awake!" His thoughts continue, "Maybe one day, you'd trust me enough to share your burdens."

The final image shows Wolfwood pulling at Vash's cheek and Vash complains, "Owwwww why..." Wolfwood quickly says, "You were thinking something stupid, right? It's all over yer face." Vash mutters, "Nooo, I wasn't..." END ID]

#vashwood #trigun #trigun maximum #vash the stampede #nicholas d wolfwood #Theyre both thoroughly exhausted tired individuals -- vash having to fight this lonely battle for over a hundred years and getting dragged #back into inevitable situation with knives after a 2 years hiatus of being a gunslinger. they both need so much Rest and comfort in this #department... .SIGHS. BUT I JUST THINK ABOUT WOLFWOOD . AND HOW... LITTLE He has existed on no man's land. how majority of his years being #alive is being used as a weapon and to kill when him at his very core is the most giving and selfless individual ever #badlands rumble inspired me a bit but i do think wolfwood gets dragged into occasional tasks from the eye of michael while on his duty of #guiding vash -- or i think that one chapter where we got to see other members of eom -- there's like a clear division within the eom too #i think.... so i figured similarly to vash but not to the same amount -- there are people that look for wolfwood too. but most of the time #it's probably wolfwood that has to look for someone else and take them out. i feel like it happens ever so occasionally.#evidentially these two don't talk enough canonically but they always know how to express things properly to affirm that they're okay #they have the worst time ever sharing burdens - can't willingly burden the other and has neeever asked for help or reprieve in their #desperate situations... vw is a huge case of right person wrong time syndrome so they just. in the time they get to spend together -- even #if romantically - they don't have enough time to heal to get over that kind of hurdle. They've just never asked for help in all the years #they've been alive -- they don't even know how to and its just aughhhsgskg #and well! they don't even need to ask! because they'll be there for each other anyway at the end of the day -- company and presence alone.#ruporas art

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neil-gaiman · 10 days

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Hey Neil! I am currently writing a paper for one of my cultural studies seminar about The Sandman comics at uni. I’m focusing on the story of Calliope, specifically the changes made from the comic to the Netflix adaptation, and the reasons and meaning behind them. I have a few question regarding some changes and figured I would just try to get an answer from you personally. I would really appreciate it:) Thanks!

1. Why did you change Madoc into not knowing what the ‘gift exchange’ with Fry entailed? Did he really not know he was ‘getting’ Calliope?

2. Going further, he actually tries to woo her in ways that he sees fit in the beginning (gifts), only after getting pressured by his manager he ends up assaulting her (off screen). In the comic he immediately knows what to do and assaults her, which is graphically shown to the reader. What made you change this?

3. Madoc considers himself a “feminist writer” in both comic and the Netflix show, but the Netflix episode expands on this aspect of his character (at least 50% of the crew on the set has to be women and people of colour). Can you shed some light on why this was done?

4. In the comic Morpheus seemingly comes unprovoked once he is freed from his imprisonment, while in the show she actively realises he is free and calls for him. There is a very impactful change in the dialogue happening in the scene:

In the comic it’s:

Calliope: “They…they told me that you had been imprisoned. Just like me.”

Morpheus: “They spoke the truth. I was imprisoned. But, as you can see, I am free now.”

while in the show it goes as follows:

Calliope: “They told me you had been imprisoned just like me.”

Morpheus: “Not like you - my suffering was nothing compared to yours.”

What inspired this change?

5. At the end of the story, Calliope is freed and appears with Morpheus. There’s a very specific detail to this scene in the Netflix adaptation that caught my attention. Morpheus lets Calliope walk outside of Madoc’s house before him, and the episode ends with the camera on Calliope walking outside, while the comic has Morpheus disappearing before her eyes after saying goodbye. The last panel of the story is Madoc. Why is this different in the Netflix adaptation?

6. In the Netflix adaptation Calliope is always wearing a nude-coloured night gown, instead of being mostly naked like in the comic. Is there a specific reason for this, other than perhaps restriction from Netflix’s side?

The answer to all of the questions is, because it's television being made in 2020 and not a comic being made in 1989. Does that help?

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