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#when I gave and gave and gave and tried so hard to make things work and finally ending it gaslighting myself that I'm going to be happier
cheriladycl01 · 1 day
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My love, is mine all mine - Max Verstappen x Norris! Reader x Charles Leclerc Part 6
Plot: Norris' Twin sister is also a driver in the 2021 line up and is in her rookie era. Not only do the commentators struggle to now talk about the pair in the race, but they also struggle to talk about talent. What happens when two drivers find her eye-catching.
A/N: I've brought Luisia into things because of the timeline and it being 2021. Don't hate on her, or the fact that i've brought her into my writing please!
Credit to countingstars-17 for the GIF
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After the shit show of a party, you woke up earlier than everyone else and left the docked boat. You caught the earliest flight back to the UK. You were so pissed with your friends and brother that they’d just up and left you in the club.
The whole flight home, you pondered whether you just really needed to grow up about ever situation in your life.
Lando and the clubbing group leaving you? They were drunk and probably saw you with loads of other people and assumed you were safe and good.
Charles admitting his feelings for you? You arguably needed to focus more on your career that you’d worked so hard for, you didn’t have time for boys and if Charlie really did care for you like he said, he would understand.
Max sleeping or dating your best friend? Good for him, he should be happy.
You needed to not be bitter about all of these minor blips in your life and just get on with it.
Little did you know that this would create a version of you so far from her normal bubbly self that even people who hadn’t spoken to you in years would be able to tell something wasn’t right with you.
Max and Charles had both tried to contact you through texts and phone calls all which had been ignored, you knew it was for the best to just let it all go and leave it at a what could have been. You had responsibilities far greater that you needed to focus on.
When it came to after the summer having left your brother and gone travelling on your own, updating your Instagram and family group chat whenever you managed to get wifi, you were back and raring to go for your home race.
Lando had sent a text to the family group chat asking who would be coming. He wanted to invite Luisa and only had two passes to give out. So that would mean one for Luisa and one for his dad.
Lando - Can you give your paddock passes to mum and Flo, Cisca can’t make it because of Uni
Y/N - Kinda awkward i had someone in mind i wanted to bring :(
Lando - come on its mum and your little sister Y/N don’t be rude and give up your pass to some random dude you met in Bali …
You ignored it, before going to McLaren and begging Zac for a spare paddock pass. You gave your original 2 to your mum and Flo, but your next one went to Nathan Bishop, he was a goalkeeper for Manchester United and you’d met him on a trip you’d been doing in Bali and he immediately knew who you were and you guys got talking and one thing led to another and you were inviting each other to your sports.
In the time you’d travelled he’d became a really good friend and you didn’t feel as lonely as you had since starting in F1. It was really refreshing.
You met him before, driving him to the paddock in your McLaren and pulling up into the Silverstone car park together.
“Thanks for the pass, I’ve never been to a race before so this is actually really exciting for me” he smiles waiting as you grab your bag from the back seat.
“Always welcome!” You grinned back.
“Mmmm and I’m excited to see if you are really as good as you say you are!” He teases elbowing you as you swipe your pass through the paddock scanners.
“Hey! I am a good driver! I got you here safely didn’t I?” You smile and he just nods, you point out various bits of the paddock talking about all the hustle and bustle and all the different teams and the workers running around fitting last minute bits to the motorhomes.
“Oh come on! We need to get you some McLaren team merch!” You grin pulling him to the quiet fan zone thanks to the early time it was and going to the merch stool.
“Hiya! Oh Y/N! How are you?” The worker smiles noticing it’s you.
“Hey! I’m really good! How are you? It’s hot today, make sure you drink lots of water! Radio through and ask for top ups yeah? And don’t forget sun cream!” You chide knowing sometimes the workers forget that they are humans and will push themselves till breaking point!
“Thank you! Really and I’m all good” she says flashing you the large icy bottle of water she had behind the stand with her. “What can I get for you?”
“Any chance we can get the Y/N number hat?” You grin turning to look at Nathan who just rolls his eyes but can’t help the smile that comes into his face.
“Sure! We have lots on stock today, as you know it’s home race! Good luck by the way! I know you’ll do great!” She smiles and hands you the number 42 on the baseball cap. You place it on Nathan’s head who just laughs at your antics but keeps that hat on before paying the lady for it in cash.
“Hey! I was gonna pay for it! I’m the one that got you to buy merch!” You exclaim in horror.
“Mmmm but it’s my hat … so I should pay for it!” He explains with a cat like grin.
“Argh fine come on! I want to show you round the garage and do track walk with you!” You say gently taking his hand and pulling him through the growing numbers of people in the paddock.
You showed him all around the garage and even let him sit in your car which he was really impressed with how low to the ground it felt, and how much the halo restricted vision. After showing him the pit wall and all of the engineers working and running around before free practice you took him out onto the track to do a walk.
The sun wasn’t as harsh anymore and it had started to cloud over a little bit meaning that the track walk wasn’t as strenuous as you anticipated it would be.
You guys walked around talking about the season so far and how it felt being a rookie along with Yuki Tsunoda.
Afterwards it was time for you to have a team meeting and you didn’t want to leave Nathan on his own so you walked him to the hospitality suite to find your parents.
“Mum Dad! Hey this is Nathan! Can you just watch out for him while I’m in the car please!” You ask kindly showing Nathan to a seat with your family.
“Of course sweetheart! Hi Nathan, I’m Adam, this is my wife Cisca” he introduces standing up slightly and leaning forward to shake the younger gentleman’s hand.
“You gonna be okay?” You ask, unsure if you should just bring him to the garage and find him a seat and headphones and leave him there.
“Yeah - I’ll be” he starts only for commotion behind to stop his words.
“Sorry, I’m running late. Oh … whose this?” Lando asks looking over to Nathan, someone he didn’t think would be around his family.
“This is your sisters guest, hence the hat” your mum explained pointing to the hat still on Nathans head.
“Right … yeah I just came here to drop Luisa off. Please look after her and … you know don’t be weird” he begs as Luisa starts to talk to both Flo and Nathan.
“We’re never weird! Now you both have to go get ready!” your dad grins forcing you both away.
You start to walk together to the garage in an awkward silence until Lando breaks it.
“So you brought a boyfriend with you?” Lando scoffs looking towards you.
“And what if I did?” What’s it to you, you brought Luisa!” You say looking to him confused why it was such an issue you’d brought a guy (who wasn’t anything to do with you romantically).
“Because your playing with a lot of hearts here Y/N and it’s not exactly fair. First Charles, then Max, then Charles again and then Max and now this guy? Max and Charles are my friends Y/N and I can’t help but feel like your going to go one step too far and ruin all of this …” he complains and for a second your stunned into silence not knowing what to even say.
“How am I toying with Max and Charles when Max is off with my best friend and Charles … is so hot headed that I don’t know if I can take the heat of him yelling at me for an overtake every race weekend! So how am I the one playing with hearts when it’s feels like mines the only one being toyed with, even by my own fucking brother!” You cried out frustrated with him, but that was Lando. He always spoke before he thought about what he was saying. Both a blessing and a curse.
You started to hurry off no longer wanting to entertain this conversation.
“Y/N wait … I didn’t mean it like that” Lando admits speeding up after you and walking in step with you trying to slow you down.
“We have a meeting to get to. Let’s not waste anymore time” you say coldly, so coldly it actually caused Lando to shiver as he never had heard that tone of voice or anything remotely close come from you.
Briefing for what it was, was pretty boring only talking about the upgrades they’d brought to this weeks Grand Prix. Lando had the full package and you had half, the others to come next week in Hungary.
You were in the garage after changing into your fireproofs, your race suit hanging down off your hips talking to your engineer about strategy for Silverstone, but it was always changeable depending on the track temp and the weather.
FP1 clearly showed Landos new flashy upgrades and how much quicker it made the car placing him in P2 in between Max and Lewis, the two battling it out for the championship this year.
As for you down in 9th you’d just been testing the track and were on different tyres to the top few people, wanting to test out the hards.
As the weekend progressed and the less you concentrated on all of yours issues and just had fun while concentrating on the race weekend you got better. Ending up starting in a decent P6 for the race and getting points in the Sprint that was held earlier on in the day.
“Okay Y/N, it’s looking like Plan B. Reports of rain on the radar for the last half of the race” your engineer says as you pull up into your P6 stop, next to Lando both your Orange McLarens locking out your row.
“Okay, do we have a pit plan?” You ask knowing you were on mediums in hopes they’d last long enough to get you onto Intermediates or Wet if it’s due to rain that badly.
“We’re checking now, looking into stuff with Lando too and seeing what the other teams and looking at doing, but looking like Pit Plan E”
“Yep, copied” he grit out unhappy that they are already prioritising your brother.
“Well Y/N let’s get racing for you first F1 home race! Lecelrc and Bottas in front of you and Lando, Alonso and Vettel behind you and both. And then Max and Hamilton front row” he explains, you knew you had to get a good start to overtake your brother and possibly Charles if there was an opening so as you were driving round the formation lap, you cleared your mind of everything but racing.
Taglist:
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writtenbymoonflower · 15 hours
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Could I request a poly!marauders comforting a close friend(possibly someone they have feelings for but she was dating someone else.) Just broke up with my boyfriend tonight; he wasn't honest about something vitally important and things just weren't work out out before he even came clean and I feel sick and just need comfort. Please and thank you.
hi baby! i'm so sorry about your breakup. i know there's nothing i can say to make it easier, but i hope this helps. please take it easy on yourself, and my dms are open if you need anything <3 poly!marauders x fem!reader (romantic if you squint)
cw: mentions of drinking, breakups, swearing
880 words
In your defense, when you had initially made the call you didn’t expect all this fuss. Your intention was to kindly let your friends know that you didn’t feel up to going out that night due to your unexpected heartbreak. If you had known that your call would result in two bottles of rose, a gallon of moose-tracks frozen custard, and three borderline sickeningly benevolent boys infiltrating your house, you probably would’ve gone with a vague text. Even so, you couldn’t deny that deep down, you were grateful. 
However, sobbing into the sleeves of your borrowed sweater, with a Disney movie playing in the background while you were periodically fed bites of ice cream and sips of wine was a level of vulnerability you did not expect to reach with your friends.
Every time you thought your sobs had subsided, another wave welled up inside you. You sniffled miserably, pinching your irritated nose clean. Your hands were batted away. 
“Gentle, sweetheart. Your poor face is already rubbed raw.” James kindly scolded you. You nodded, the movement making you feel more lightheaded than before. You were handed a glass of water, not the wine you were hoping for but you still took it. After taking a few sips you set it down, feeling the tears welling into your eyes again. Remus tugged you into his side, letting you nuzzle your face into his soft sweater. 
“Babe, I’m not sure that prick is worth this amount of tears.” Sirius’ tone was sweet, if not a little venomous. He was still cuffed on the back of the head by Remus. 
“Tact, pads. Have some tact.” Remus huffed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Cry as much as you need to, dove.” 
Strangely, now your tears had stopped. You sat up, though Remus still held onto you. 
“You wanna talk, now lovely girl? Or do you want to be distracted?” James held you from your other side, brushing your damp hair out of your face. 
“I don’t think I have coherent thoughts right now.” You tried to joke but your tone just came out pitiful.
“That’s okay.” Remus said, thoughtfully. “Just say what's going through your head. This is for you, dovey. It doesn’t have to make perfect sense to us, we just want to be here for you.” 
You nodded, more gently this time, and took a deep breath. “I’m just-” The lump was still in your throat, making it hard to get the words out. “I’m just so hurt, you know? Like I gave everything. I gave fucking everything to this. To him. And I guess I just thought that he would do the same. And I- I’m just so fucking stupid, because I never expected he would do something like this.” Your face screwed up like you were in pain and you fell back into Remus’ chest, silent sobs shaking your body. 
“Oh, baby.” Sirius placed a hand on your leg, rubbing his thumb back-and-forth. They let you cry for the nth time that night, never rushing or scolding you. When your cries slowed again, Sirius spoke up. “I know it hurts, dollface. I know. And I know there is nothing we can say to make it go away.” There was hurt in his voice as he said that. Sirius despised feeling helpless. And emotions were one of the things that made him feel that way the most. He always thought he was shit at comforting people, but in reality, he’s far better than he gives himself credit for. 
“Can you look at me, sweet girl?” James leaned over to catch your eyes. You let him. “Listen to me, what he chose to do says nothing, and I mean nothing about you, okay? You are not stupid, or anything of the sort. It says everything about him, that he knew he had your trust and chose to not be deserving of it. Just because he didn’t love you right, doesn’t mean that you were wrong for loving him anyway. So please, don’t ever for a moment, let his bad decisions affect how you see yourself, precious thing.” 
His words made you cry all over again, but it was different this time. James pulled you into his lap, cradling you like a baby in his arms. 
“Look at what you’ve done, prongs. You’ve broken her all over again.” Sirius said incredulously. For the first time that night, you laughed. It was wet and choked, but it still felt good. 
“There you go.” Remus squeezed your calf. “Didn’t quite like seeing you like that.” You nodded. 
“I don’t quite like being like that.” You half-laughed. James squeezed you again. 
“But if you need to be, we’re here for you, yeah?” Sirius poured you more wine. The other two boys let out loud affirmatives. 
“Thank you guys, really. I think I needed this.” You hoped the way you were looking at them showed how grateful you really were.
“Anytime, lovie.” James kissed your cheek. “Now, I think we need a movie yeah? Something silly. Like Sausage Party. Or one of those shitty horror movies that only scares Sirius.” He grinned cheekily. 
“Oi! Those are really fucking scary!” Sirius squawked. You rolled your eyes, filled to the brim with affection.
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canonizzyhours · 2 days
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I'm a professional screenwriter. I know nobody reading this has any reason to believe that, and I work pretty hard to keep my fandom activity separate from my professional identity, so I'm not going to offer any proof that would doxx me here, believe me or don't. But it's true and I don't just mean I'm trying to get hired as a screenwriter, I mean I am pretty well established in the industry and I've worked on some stuff big enough you've probably heard of it. I've also been active in OFMD fandom for about two years now, since nearly the beginning.
The canyon really freaks me out because seeing it up close makes me worried I've drastically underestimated audiences' empathy gap around characters of color and tendency to sympathize with and excuse the actions of white characters. I've always tried to be conscious about that sort of thing in my work but now that I'm seeing the whole process up close it's so much worse than I always thought.
I think a lot about what I would have done during season 1 of OFMD, if I were in the writers' room and I'd wanted to make sure it would be clear to the audience that Izzy was Ed's abuser and wasn't acting out of secretly sympathetic motives and we're supposed to be genuinely horrified by his actions. I'm in writers' rooms workshopping issues like this all the time. I know the kinds of suggestions I'd make.
Like, if we were worried that the audience would think Izzy's hostility toward Stede was about class instead of homophobia, I might have suggested we make sure Izzy's dialogue never has any reference to Stede's class at all, and that we might do a subplot in one episode where Izzy is equally hostile toward Lucius, since Lucius clearly isn't rich but is extremely gay. But that already happened, and it didn't help.
If I wanted to make sure the audience understood that Izzy is bossing the crew around and screaming at everyone to work harder because he's a petty little bully on a power trip and not because the work actually needs to get done, I might have suggested a scene where Izzy deliberately makes a mess on purpose just so he can order the crew to clean it up. But that already happened, and it didn't help.
If I wanted to make it clear that Izzy has always been awful toward everyone around him -- especially his colleagues of color -- since long before the show started, I might have suggested we repeatedly emphasize throughout the season that while Fang is willing to work with him, he doesn't like or respect Izzy and this is because Izzy has always treated Fang very badly. Have him pull on Fang's beard for no reason and have Fang explicitly say he hates that but knows it wouldn't help to complain. Have Fang tell strangers jokes about times Izzy humiliated himself in public. Have a scene where everybody unanimously VOTES TO MURDER IZZY and someone explicitly stops to ask Fang if he's cool with this and Fang explicitly says yes this is absolutely fine with me and then he actively participates in the murder plan while smiling. But all of that happened and I still see the canyon insisting that Izzy was a much nicer person before the events of s2 when he wasn't under so much stress and has always been liked and respected by the PoC around him, including specifically Fang!
If I were worried that the audience might take seriously the idea that Izzy is motivated by "loyalty to your captain" -- well, honestly I don't think it ever would have occurred to me to worry about that, since he says that in a scene where he's in the middle betraying his captain and I'd probably assume people are capable of picking that up and understanding that when someone says they're abusing you for your own good you should not believe them. But if someone else insisted we address the concern, suggestions I'd make would include: make sure some of the first interactions we see between Ed and Izzy involve Izzy complaining about how he doesn't want to do the job Ed just gave him, then half-assing the mission and lying to Ed's face about it. Show Izzy deliberately undermining Ed to the crew by telling them he's half-insane, then insist to Ed that he's the only one keeping the crew loyal when they're worried about his judgment. But they did that stuff and we still have people thinking Izzy's central motivation throughout season 1 is selfless devotion to Ed.
The show did every single thing I would have suggested, and none of it worked. So what does it say about all the stuff I've already worked on, whenever I've written a scene where a white guy was being a dick to characters of color? Have I just been embarrassingly naive this whole time? Have I undermined my own work by not getting this?
You can't control audience reactions, I know that, that's part of what's great about art, you have to let go and accept that people will interpret things in ways you never intended, I get it. But if it's THIS impossible to choose words that will create the kind of feelings you meant to, what's the point? Is it even possible to write about the kind of abusive relationship Ed and Izzy have, where the white guy thinks he's entitled to control a brown man's life "for his own good" and that the brown guy is obligated to be grateful and reciprocate his "love" and not have a huge group of people creating elaborate justifications for the white guy? What else could they have done? What else can I do, when I'm writing about characters of color? I'm seriously asking. If anybody reading this has advice I want to hear it. What could I do?
#408.
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wisheslost · 3 days
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The white-eye warbles, the camellia blooms.
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As a writer of Yae Publishing House, you have to visit the shrine for work purposes quite often— and it is on these shrine visits that you came to be even more acquainted with the yashiro commissioner, of whom you were previously known to only as that writer he had bumped into at the Irodori festival, in his sister's words; the most cliché way possible.
cw : mutual pining, friends/strangers to lovers, fluff, reader gets screamed at but its fine its not by ayato, no use of y/n, reader is technically an oc but is never referred to with a name. pls lmk if I should add more!
a/n : ive been meaning to post this but i kept stalling😭 sorry
wc : 5.4k
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Kamisato Ayato is a smart man. The revered head of the Kamisato clan knows all there is to know about what's going on amidst the different commissions in Inazuma, but not a single clue does he have about the feelings you harbour for him, and who knows when he will?
You seldom had the opportunity to go to the shrine, and so, everytime you came down from the shrine, everytime you hurriedly made your way through Chinju forest, you did with the same intention in mind— to see Ayato. It didn't matter if he didn't notice you, just a glimpse of his face made your day better.
One of these very days, Ayato saw you pass, and much to your surprise, invited you in to have tea. In an attempt to be polite, and since you were done with work at the time, you accepted his sweet offer.
And so it continued — each time someone of the estate saw you passing by, they'd invite you in and offer you tea, while you tried your best to decline most of the time, sometimes it was just… not doable. Convincing Thoma was a hard job, but to persuade Miss Furuta to let you go was even more difficult. 
Now, Ayato wasn't always there, sometimes he was out for a meeting or was doing work in his chamber ( the same chamber you found yourself too unimportant to enter, the chamber that felt almost suffocating to you the one time you went in there. ) but even when he was, if he heard of you having came, he'd offer you to tea with the condition that you had to wait till his work was done. You loved his company, so who were you to deny it?
And perhaps that love you had for the time you spent with him turned into the love you had for him. 
You two weren't strangers. No, not at all. You bumped into each other during last year's Irodori festival, and in the most clichesque way ever, all your documents had fallen down, and being the gentleman he was, Ayato helped you pick them up ( obviously !).
Ayato found himself writing you a letter ever so often, and your reply to it that laid there among his official documents was the last to be opened of the day—but not the least, no, it was a way for him to conclude his day positively, or so he had told you. And as you two grew closer, you only found it easier to share your work with him, snippets of something you wrote that you were somewhat proud of , but that didn't make it into the published version of the story, a verse from a poem you gave up on writing, anything you thought he would like— you sent him, and eagerly waited for his reply. 
You'd read him some of your poetry time to time— each time you came by his castle of a house, and each time he simply stared at you until you finished, and would then ask you why you used a certain metaphor to describe a certain thing, to which you'd happily answer, or commend you for having thought of something in such a different way, and at the end, he'd pass a rather funny comment, even if unintentionally, such as one like "I want this framed on my wall." to which you could do nothing but laugh, while he simply gazed at the beauty the sky harboured, seemingly deep in thought. Why he always did that, you did not know, and you could only wonder, what exactly did he think of each time?
Is showing your unpublished work to someone outside the Yae Publishing House breach of contract? No... Well, not exactly. You had agreed to abstaining from showing anyone anything that has to do with your unpublished literary pieces, but you knew the publishing house wasn't ever going to publish the poems you wrote on your own. They would say things like the topic's too vague, the metaphors don't make sense, and that the writing didn't flow, whatever that meant. So, what you wrote for the publishing house was what they demanded from you— quite different than what you actually wrote. Alas, they don’t understand your words when they're not catered to them. But it's fine, Ayato did, and what more could you ask for? 
Actually, if given the chance, you would definitely ask for something more.
Kamisato Ayato understood social cues quite well, or atleast one would think he would, as that was a big part of his duty. So why he couldn't comprehend your feelings for him, was a mystery to you. But I guess understanding if someone likes you or not isn't really something listed in the skillset a Yashiro commissioner requires. 
Now, what he could and couldn't understand was not your problem, and would no longer be, not after you confess your feelings to him. You figured it would be easier to do if you just played it out like one of your usual interactions, and so you wrote a poem. A poem you'd innocently read out to him one of those days you happen to stumble upon his house, and with it, he'd finally understand. Finally understand you liked him. 
Something else popped up. A question much unappreciated. The worst outcome possible. “But what if he didn't like you back?” Well the poem isn't even for him then! It's from the point of view of one of my original characters— yes, that excuse is good enough.
But then the day finally arrived, you were finally there, sitting in Kamisato Estate's courtyard eagerly waiting for Ayato to be done with his meeting that had started just as you came, it was not often Ayato had meetings in his chamber, so it seems you just happened to have bad luck today. Sitting on the cushion, waiting for Ayato to be done, you found yourself making multiple revisions to that poem of yours, and in the middle of that, you were suddenly reminded of the meeting at Yae Publishing House you had this evening, but the thought soon slipped your mind as you thought of another line for the poem.
He had promised it would not take too long, but one hour had gone by just like that, and before you knew it, you were barely keeping awake, you couldn't help it, running on 2 hours of sleep from having worked all night, your mind was starting to shut down. Resting your head on the table was probably the first mistake you made that day— but one could argue there were plenty other mistakes made before that, such as not having slept in the first place. 
You usually came to meet Ayato around the evening, not only because his workload was lighter that time of the day but also because the publishing house's important meetings and discussions of the sort were held most often, if not all the time, early in the day. And that was precisely why you had forgotten about that meeting you had this evening. Was it the two hours of sleep or the anxiety from the whole confession thing? whatever it was, it was just making your day harder and harder.
It had been an hour and a half since you arrived at Kamisato Estate, the hour spent waiting and scribbling, and the half spent peacefully sleeping as no one bothered to wake you up. It wasn't that the staff of the estate couldn't care less about you, in fact, everyone around noticed you having succumbed to slumber. But who dare to awaken you, Clan Head's possible significant other?
It's true that Ayato was unbeknownst to your feelings towards him, but those at Kamisato Estate weren't. It was easy to tell you had a thing for him, much too obvious that every time you saw him in the eye your heart skipped a beat, and practically every one of the estate's staff thought you two were together, and just trying to hide it. To them, the way you looked at Ayato, was the way he looked at you. His, a loving gaze that never lets go of your frame, and a soul that so desperately wants to tell the whole world how much he loves you(— but hell, he couldn't even fathom telling you) and Yours, a stare that quickly tries to focus on something else when noticed by him, a heart too heavy with emotions— emotions that cannot find their way through speech, and are expressed only through words. 
And that serene and loving gaze was the first thing you saw being woken up, because in that whole house, no one except Clan Head himself would have the courage to wake you up. 
It's not until Ayato's voice echoes in your ears accompanied by the faint pitter-patter of the rain that you realise your noses are barely inches away from touching as he knelt down to your level.
“Oh, my writer, it seems you've slept most wonderfully in my absence, and on Thoma's jacket, huh?” his tone had a bit of sneer in it, as if he was jealous of the fact you had used Thoma's jacket as a pillow. And there was that— “my writer”, it stemmed from an inside joke, wherein once when he was transcribing a poem you wrote, you called him ‘my personal calligrapher’ which warranted the “That would make you my writer, hm?” and you knew it was a joke but goodness, he called you that only when people weren't around, and the way he said it everytime, Oh Archons!
But wait— You weren't supposed to be swooning over Ayato right now! You should be at the publishing house, attending that meeting— and so you rose up frantically to leave, apologies leaving your mouth rapidly,
“Lord Commissioner, I'm so sorry but I must go, I had an important work thing and I- I'm sorry! I should hav-'' and that is when you get cut off by Ayato's forefinger upon your lips, if that was an attempt to shush you- it worked. “Just go. I understand.” he said, and the reassurance in his voice and the slight smile on his face brought you right back to your senses.
And so you hurriedly put on your shoes to make a run for it, uttering one final ‘sorry’ to him, much to his dismay. And as you made it out the door of the estate, you heard Ayato's voice calling to you- “Take an umbrella!” to which you could only respond— “I'll be fine! The rain's not that bad!” because right now, saving face at the publishing house was far more important than a few drops on your clothes. 
Except it wasn't a few drops, you had greatly underestimated the power of the Hydro Archon, because by the time you reached the doors of the publishing house, you were completely wet from head to toe— and saving face was no longer present in your dictionary. In fact, you never even wanted to show your face again- and god, how many and who even were the people attending that meeting? because you were going to embarrass yourself in front of all of them right now.
The second you entered that room where the meeting was going on, as if your bad luck wasn't bad enough, you saw a figure too striking, bright pink hair.. fox ears.. and those eyes, those eyes that didn't take even a full two seconds to notice your presence and announce it to the whole room.
“Oh, look who's here! did the Yashiro Commission- er, reject you, my dear? or did you finally realise where your priorities should lie?” and right after she had said that, you could feel that theories about you and the commissioner had already began floating in the air of that room— whispers of a mixture of words like yashiro commissioner, head of the kamisato clan could be heard, and among them was that name a bit too familiar- Kamisato Ayato. How she knew about your yashiro commission shenanigans, you had no idea, but you weren't about to question her— Guuji Yae was no god, but people were convinced she definitely was omniscient, the way she never lacked information about the people she worked with. 
You could swear on your life that the stutter after the words ‘yashiro commission’ was done on purpose, and you'd live. What she was trying to imply wasn't too obvious, in fact, the way she said it, it could easily be interpreted as something entirely different— but what was also true, only it wasn't something you were comfortable with everyone in that room knowing. You couldn't manage to respond to that, ‘tleast not in a way that would allow you to keep your job. And so Guuji Yae's lips spoke again, this time out of pity for you. 
“But hey, better late than never.” she said, gesturing for you to come sit next to her. 
And so the meeting went on like normal. You were trembling terribly from the cold, dripping wet still but there wasn't anything you could do about it, and as the guy sitting next to you took notice of that and offered you his jacket, you could feel watchful eyes throughout the room landing upon you two, waiting for your response. With the amount of writers present in this room, you knew this interaction was making its way into a light novel soon. Thinking of a response was hard, accepting it would give birth to more conspiracies, but not accepting it would blatantly prove Guuji Yae's previous comment about the yashiro commissioner right. And before you could think of a response to that awfully nice gesture, you were snapped out of your thoughts by your editor, who was currently explaining something on a whiteboard, something you failed to understand because of the preoccupations your mind currently had. “(Name), are you even paying attention !?” were his words, and as if enough people weren't already staring at you, now the whole room was. A nervously spoken ‘sorry’ was all you could let out, and it wasn't even a proper answer to his question. 
The meeting dragged on for another 15 minutes— 15 dreadful, cold minutes. And when it was finally over and people were getting out of their seats and as if your luck wasn't already the worst, it only got worse-r as your editor called out to you right as you got up, “Not you. I still have to talk to you.”  Did he not see you shivering? Looking like a sopping wet cat? Did he not have an ounce of sympathy? 
As everyone else exited the room, you were forced to sit until who knows when. Guuji Yae was the last to leave, and before she stepped out the room, she called the editor over to speak to him, uttering something along the lines of what you thought was “Go easy on the poor thing, ok?” and was that poor thing in question you? most likely, yes. And good for that— he shouldn't think to disobey the owner of this whole establishment right? 
But he did. Or atleast, the words that followed after she left did not seem like him ‘going easy on you’ at all. 
The way he had his arms on the desk, the way his figure loomed over yours, that expression on his face… oh, you were about to be scolded big time.
“You, tell me. What exactly is your problem?” 
“I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again, I apologise.” You couldn't even make eye contact with him as you spoke, and while your attempt at an apology was well delivered, it was terribly timed. 
“If you were so fucking sorry as you claim to be, tell me, what the hell has been bothering you so damn much to arrive late to an important meeting when i had reminded you so many times the previous day!?” 
Oh. That was a first— never before had you heard him swear like this, and you're pretty sure it probably falls under top 10 things you shouldn't do if you don't want to lose your job, but who were you to say? your job was being held together by a single thread made of miracles. 
“I'm really sorry sir, it was just something personal- I can guarantee you, it won't ever happen again.” Ah yes, the infamous personal issue: the inability to manage a schedule.
“Did someone pass away?”
“..No.”
“Someone fall gravely ill?”
“..No”
“Family issues?”
“No-”
“Then WHAT the hell’s been bothering so much you show up late to a meeting with GUUJI YAE? Do you seriously not understand how fucking embarrassing it is? For the writer I had to practically beg for the higher-ups to not fire even though you kept being late and crossing deadlines, to show up late again?” He had yanked you out of your seat with his right hand midway through his speech out of the anger he possessed as of current, becoming physical when angry wasn't uncommon, but for someone who you always saw as calm and cool, for someone who always put up with you no matter what, the breaking point had arrived, and it was wholly your fault. 
But you understood. Understood the reasons behind his furious reaction, for he was right, it was truly embarrassing, because that thread made out of miracles that was holding your job in place wasn't made out of miracles at all— it was made out of your editor's continued efforts to keep you in this organisation. 
When you didn't, well, more like couldn't respond to him, and he realised the outburst he had just made, he let go of your upper arm, and his hand went back to the desk with his other arm, and as he regained his senses, looking down at the desk realising what he just did, he tried to apologise-
“I didn't mean to-”
“I-it's fine. You don't have to say anything.” Cutting him off was usually not something you would do, but at this moment, it felt right.
“I'm sorry, Please leave. And please, please don't tell anyone about this.” You could see the regret in his face as he sat down on his chair, head in hands refusing to make eye contact with you and instead choosing to stare at the hardwood floor instead, and you knew if anyone found out about this you both would be kicked out the publishing house together.
“I won't. Good night, sir.” and as you exited that room, you could hear a faint “good night” from your editor, who was too ashamed to even speak any louder. 
And as you left, you failed to notice the bright pink figure of the Guuji beside the entrance of the conference room, who had eavesdropped on that entire conversation.
________
It had been 11 days since then. 11 days of Ayato wondering whatever it was that you wanted to tell him that day, hoping you would at least write him a letter. But no letter came, and neither did you. 
While the Kamisato's days went by quite peacefully and ordinarily, yours were much, much different. 
Back at Yae Publishing House that day, the Guuji held your editor back to tell him to get you to write some sort of romance novel around this plot– A careless writer who has amazing skill in writing, but barely manages to keep her job due to the troubles caused by her family, and her editor who has to beg the higher-ups to let her keep her job, who's also hopelessly in love with her.
While the plot is good, you weren't too happy having it recommended to you in that way. Does the Guuji think you have romantic feelings for your editor? or is it vice versa ? 
Whatever it is that the Guuji thought, it didn't matter right now, because she demanded the first volume of the comic book that was about to be serialised be done in 15 days. With 11 days already gone by, and everything done on your part, you finally had some leisure time to enjoy, leisure time you were spending laying on the floor in front of the fan sipping cold lavender melon juice peacefully, almost on your way to dreamland.
That is, until you heard a knock on your door. When you went to open it, no one was there, or so you had thought, not having noticed the little kid dressed like a mujina at your doorstep at first, looking sleepy as ever.
“Oh, hello! What is it that brings you here to my doorstep, little one ?” as you bent down to greet the sleepy child, you felt a muscle in your back ache. Ah, the consequences of having the worst sleeping posture known to man.
“I'm not ‘little one’. My name is Sayu. I'm from the shuumatsuban, and Mr. Yashiro Commissioner sent me to relay an important message to you.” as she finishes her sentence, she hands you a little paper from her back pocket that says “I have something important to speak to you about. Come meet me.  -your personal calligrapher” 
 Oh. You're done.
What could it possibly be about !? What could Kamisato Ayato, Clan head of the Kamisato Clan and the Yashiro Commissioner have to talk about that would be important to you !? Whatever it was, it was scaring you. 
“Do I have to go right now?” as nervous as you were, you were also curious, what the hell was this man upto? and actually, was he even upto something, or was this just something to get you to come to the estate as quickly as possible?
“Yes, that's what he said anyway.” as she said this, Sayu sounded so, so done with you and Ayato that you couldn't really do anything. It seemed like if you didn't go right now, as soon as possible, Sayu would fall asleep right on your doorstep. 
“Alright, then, let us leave. But wait- just one thing-” and so, you went to your bedside table to pick up that diary you always took to Kamisato Estate, the one you wrote that damnee confession in- but, it wasn't there? surely you placed it somewhere else when under the influence of fatigue and forgot.. Well, with Sayu's patience running thinner- you should probably just leave finding that diary to your future self.
Sayu was not at all interested in whatever it was that went on between you and Ayato, she kept quiet the whole way from your house to the Kamisato Estate, except for a yawn or two in the middle.  
Your attempt at distracting yourself from whatever it was that Ayato wanted to talk to you about by looking at the flowers and the trees as you made your way to the estate was not quite successful.. for as the dew drops fell off from the roses, you could feel yourself perspire as well.
When you finally stepped foot in Kamisato Estate, you saw him, Kamisato Ayato, simply leaning on his balcony ledge gazing at the horizon, unaware of your resence and all he made you feel. You were quite sure this amount of sweating could submerge Jinren Island. 
Jinren Island being submerged aside, no one was there at the estate except Ayato. Miss Furuta wasn't standing at her usual place, Koharu wasn't busy cleaning something that doesn't even look like it needs cleaning, and even Mr. Madarame was nowhere to be seen.
As you were busy analyzing the current state of the ground you were standing on, Sayu's voice spoke—
“Mr. Yashiro Commissioner, I brought them.” 
Ayato turned around, his eyes finally meeting yours after what seemed to be an eternity to him. 
“Oh, thank you Sayu. You may go now.”
As the man came to sit down, he signaled you to sit near him as well, contrary to how you would usually sit, on the opposite side of the table. “Sit here, you sure look like you need to.” his voice beamed, and you could feel your heart burst into eight thousand pieces upon hearing him talk to you again. 
While you were most delighted to finally talk to him again, you couldn't help but wonder where the staff went, therefore naturally, you asked him as he poured his tea from the kettle into his little cup,
“So… where's all the staff gone?” 
“Disappointed no one's here to give you free snacks, huh? Don't worry, I'm quite generous when it comes to my food, Here, want a sip?” and as his sentence came to an end, he offered you a cup of tea by raising it to your lips, which you pushed away as politely as you could. “You know I don’t drink tea, right? You asking me multiple times isn't going to change that..”
“Well, it was worth a try.”
“But seriously, where are all the staff? in all my days spent procrastinating here, I've never seen it so empty..” 
“I told them to take a break as I was going to have an important person over to discuss some very important, urgent matters, and for that discussion, I need some privacy.”
“But then why not have the meeting in your chamber? Enough privacy there, no?”
“Of course, of course, but you see, this client of mine, they think my chamber is really stuffy and feels suffocating. So naturally, I decided to have said meeting here.”
“Oh, so uhm, when is this meeting of yours? considering the staff are already gone..It must be soon, yes?”
“Oh yes, yes.. Infact, for the staff, the meeting has already started.”
“Wait.. Am I..?”
“Go on, you're almost there.”
“Jackass, I'm the ‘super important’ person you were meeting, huh?”
“See, this is exactly why this meeting is being held. The way you address me, the way you talk to me.. it's not exactly the usual way I'm addressed.. Not even my friends behave this way with me.”
“You have friends?”
“Of course I- See ! that's my point, you talk so nonchalantly to me, what do you think people would think of you as when they see you acting like this in public ?”
“Disrespectful? Discourteous? Rude? Impolite? Ill-mannered?”
“My beautiful Oxford dictionary, that's not what I meant. Don't you think people would look at us joking around and think of us as lovers ?” 
As soon as you heard that “beautiful”, oh goodness, you were done for. you had fallen so deep in love with this man it was beyond any find and rescue team to help you. you couldn't make an answer to that statement, no, you were busy in dreamland wondering if all these people at the estate saw you and Ayato talk to each other and thought, “oh, these two definitely have something going on.” 
Snap. one snap of his fingers in front of your face, and you were thrown right back into reality. 
“So?”
“Uhm, we don't go out much, actually, we've never gone out together, so that's not a problem as far as I'm concerned.”
“The way you say it.. it's almost like you're mad we never go out.”
“Well, we don't. I've never even stepped foot on the east side of the estate.. let alone go anywhere with you.”
“Hm? Let's go there then.” near the end of his sentence, he placed his teacup down and got up, walking to the same place he was standing before you came here, and so you followed. 
As he leaned on the ledge of the balcony, his body facing the horizon, he looked at you, hands crossed, yours facing him. 
“So? What do you think, are we qualified to go out now?” he spoke, turning towards you, and as he turned, he looked up at something and then smirked, his eyes returning to you. Goodness, he looked so hot— but wait, what was he staring at? before you could fully turn your head to face behind you, his left arm quickly got hold of the side of your neck that you were about to turn, “Why are you-”
“Answer my question first.” throughout this exchange, his hand was still there on your neck holding it from turning around.
“Yes, we can go out together, but what the hell is behind me that you don't want me to see?”
Leaning in towards your ear, he spoke. And to say his lips were one breath away from touching your temple is an understatement. “You remember the thing i told you about the staff, right? Well, they've all gathered near the first window of the second floor, and are currently looking at us, waiting for something to happen.” while he said all this, he was staring daggers into Thoma's soul, who, being the one who accidentally spread the rumour that Ayato was going to confess his feelings for you today, was awkwardly smiling at the slightly pissed off clan head, whose confession of love was about to turn into a source of entertainment for his staff, and of course, something to tease him about later for his sister, also present with the staff. Finishing his sentence, he finally pulled away from you. 
“But.. waiting for what to happen..?” trying to get the butterflies in your stomach to calm down from what just happened, you focused back on the conversation. 
“Waiting for me to confess.”
 Stop the clock. He didn't mean confess his love, did he? Surely there's no way.
“C-confess what!?” 
“That- ah, I can't believe I'm saying this in such an ordinary way, but listen, I'm not a man of poetry, or atleast, writing it. I tried to, believe me, but it just looked so awkward to me, nothing compared to what you wrote for me in your diary-”
“YOU READ THAT POEM?”
Ayato put his hands on your shoulders, and in an attempt to calm you down, spoke forth. 
“Hey now! Let's calm down, alright? I didn't read anything beyond the 9th line because Ayaka snatched it away from me, so please, don’t be mad. I should have realised I was in no place to open someone else's very personal diary, and I don't even know if that poem was meant for me, but I just-”
“No.. Ayato, you're.. You're too sweet. I'm sure you had no ill intentions, I only freaked out because it was so surprising, and since it was indeed meant for you. And you can read the whole poem afterwards, but for now, please, please go on about what you were telling me.”
“I can't just go on like this, not after you've told me you wrote about me- Me, of all people! Me, after you've written about the sun, the seas, the sky, the surreal- after all that, you wrote about me. And so beautifully, too, I can't go on, not with my life, not with whatever it was I originally wanted to say.” his expression was one you had never seen before, so full of innocence, he looked like a wet puppy in the rain, like he'd die of a cold if you didn't shelter him right away, and you could swear you saw tears welling up in his eyes, and all this because you wrote about him, all this because his feelings were returned, all this because he finally felt loved. 
You couldn't even respond, hell, you couldn't even choke back tears, and so as you were processing his words, you wrapped your arms around his torso and went in to hug him, sobbing into his chest. He returned the hug, one arm around your shoulders, and one running over your head, a tear dropping on your head as he did.
When you both pulled away from the hug, it was just laughter and wiping away each others’ tears, until you both were staring at each other fondly. And then Ayaka's voice could be heard from the back— “I told you they wouldn't kiss!” followed by a subdued Thoma, “my mora..”
“You know we can hear, right? And betting on my love life? Seriously?” As Ayato turned to reply to his sister, the staff scurried away, not wanting to be noticed by him, and as amused as you were, you didn't join in on the conversation, instead choosing to pull Ayato's collar towards yourself and pulling his lips onto yours. Before Ayaka could respond, Ayato leaned in to the kiss, cupping your face with his hands, and you could feel him smirk a bit.
He chuckled while pulling away from you, turning to a very surprised Ayaka and Thoma, mouths open in bewilderment,
“So... I guess Thoma wins?”
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reidsdaisies · 8 hours
Note
So a request:
You walk in on Spencer with a dildo in his ass(or vibrator or even just his own fingers), trying to get himself off and he’s never told you he wanted to be pegged or anything but you obviously have to go help the poor whiny man, he needs you. -🐈‍⬛
𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝
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༉‧´ˎ˗ pairing; spencer reid x fem!reader ༉‧´ˎ˗ content warnings; nsfw - mention of masturbation (m), sub!spencer. ༉‧´ˎ˗ wc; 0.6k ༉‧´ˎ˗ a/n; if this is the same 🐈‍⬛ anon who requested the ‘promise me’ fic.. girly i am so fucking sorry 😭 i started it back in November and never finished it and i feel really bad about it. i’ll try to work on it but i don’t trust myself to make promises :/ i pray you’ve stuck around and i still hope you can enjoy this one, really sorry to leave you hanging for so long i forgot i even drafted this one!
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cm masterlist ; main masterlist ; request guidelines ; inbox
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When you walked into you and Spencer’s shared apartment after driving back home from work, his converse lying on the shoe rack by the door, but the place being way too quiet, you knew something was up.
You dropped your things off in their usual place – coat on the hook by the door, shoes on the rack, purse discarded on the table – and made your way to your room.
As soon as you approached the room, you were surprised to hear moans coming from behind the door.
The moans were consistent, and you knew what he was doing in there, or at least you thought you knew what he was doing. But when you knocked once, calling his name gently before twisting the knob and opening the door, you were even more surprised to not find him with his hand wrapped around his cock, but instead in an even more compromising position, naked from the waist down, lying on the bed with your stuffed deep inside his hole.
He involuntarily moaned at you calling for him, scrambling to pull the toy out and turn it off.
“Y/N!” He shrieked, eyes wide, features clearly conveying just how guilty he felt. “It’s not what it looks like.”
“Oh, is that so?” You cocked your head to the side, skeptical of him, though you already knew that’s not the truth, it was exactly as it looked. You stepped further into the room, inching closer towards the bed.
“If it’s not what it looked like, then what were you doing?”
“I-I..” he choked, swallowing his words and huffing in defeat as he slumped against the bed, his hand falling limply to the side, the toy glistening. Your eyes darted to the nightstand, a bottle of lube, your lube, out and open. Poor baby was so eager to fuck himself that he couldn’t even close the damn bottle.
“Y-you what?” You mocked. You knew it was cold, you’ve always hated being mocked so why mock him? Maybe it was just something about how adorably weak his voice sounded as he tried to stall, or how absolutely wrecked he looked. He sounded pretty close to coming when you walked in, it’s possible you may have even ruined his orgasm.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about how.. I want you to fuck me.. but not like normal..” he admitted, looking down timidly at his lap, his cock still hard, leaking, and begging for release.
“You want it in the ass, am I correct?”
He nodded. You gave him that look, the look you give him when you need him to speak up.
“Y-yeah, that’s right. I want it in, uhm, I want you to.. in my..”
You beamed at his words, practically hopping over to him, jumping beside him on the bed.
“You could’ve just said so,”
Your demeanor changed, back to the partner he knew to be just as eager in bed as him, though much less shy around topics like this.
“There’s no reason to be so shy about this, honey. Did you think I’d be ashamed of this or turn you down?”
He hesitated slightly, eyes searching yours for any signal of revealing that you were attempting to deceive him. There were none, and you weren’t, so he shook his head.
“No.”
“Then why wait to get caught in the act before telling me?”
“I was just worried about what you might think of me..”
You gave him a sympathetic pout, gently stroking a hand over his cheek.
“I promise I’d never think poorly of you for liking something like this,”
You paused for a moment, moving your hand down and trailing your fingers gently along the soft skin of his thigh, making him tense a bit.
“..do you still want my help?”
You giggled at the eagerness he displayed as he gave you his answer of “yes!”, and took hold of the toy, ready and willing to help him out.
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Spencer Reid smut taglist: @tw1npeaks @spencerssoup @hiireadstuff @thievin-stealing
If you’d like to join my taglist click here!
Let me know your thoughts about this in the comments or my inbox and like & reblog to support! Much love <33
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tiredfox64 · 22 hours
Note
HIIIIIIII ur works r sooo good i read them one by one before going to sleep im tellin ya anyways do u still do requestss?? If u do,can i request kunglao x gnreader where we suck kung lao off under a table while hes talking to raiden????? Its fine too if reader n kunglao switched
Hush Hush Never Tell
Yip notes: Guess my works were your bedtime stories XD. Also how did you freaking know I wanted to do a concept like this??? And You picked Kung Lao I've been wanting to give him some love.
Pairing: Kung Lao x Gn reader
Warnings‼️: NSFW, Oral sex (both receive)
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You sat on Kung Lao’s lap with your arms wrapped around his neck and your lips smothering his. A steamy make-out session was at play. You had Kung Lao all hot and bothered from the beginning.
He hadn’t seen you since he went to the Wu Shi Academy. He knew he had to focus on his training but his mind would wander to the thought of you. He would think about holding you and kissing you from head to toe. He would imagine how your skin would feel against his and where your hands would wander. Then you came for a visit. Finally, he got to spend time with the love of his life. And maybe he could get rid of that inner frustration that had been building up since the last time he saw you.
He was very grabby today. He squeezed wherever he could. You both grew more and more desperate to the point you started grinding on his lap. You heard his breathing grow heavy and he began to whimper. Oh yeah, things are getting spicy. Nothing could ruin this moment.
Knock! Knock! Knock! FUCK!
Both of you heard Raiden calling for Kung Lao. You didn’t pay attention to what he was saying, you acted quickly. Your first instinct was to slip off of Kung Lao and hide under the table. Luckily the other side of the table was covered so no one would be able to see you were down there, only Kung Lao. Since he wasn’t answering Raiden decided to walk in. Kung Lao scooted his chair into the table more to prevent his friend from seeing his rock-hard boner. The only hint that something was going on was the slight blush on his face.
You heard some of their conversation. Raiden asked where you were, and Kung Lao had to lie by saying you were out for a walk. Little did the champion know that you were close by. This conversation might go on for a long time so you might as well get comfortable and have some fun.
When you looked forward you realized that your boyfriend's boner was not going down. It was pushing up against his pants. You knew it was uncomfortable for him so you decided to help him out a little. There was already a reaction from him. His hand went down to hint at you to not do that but did you listen? Fuck no! You’ve wanted to do this for a long time and now was your chance.
When you pulled down his pants his cock sprang out. Clearly it was happy to see you too. You saw the droplets of precum at the tip. It began to drip down and you took the chance to lean it and lick it up. Kung Lao’s eyes changed from a wide-eyed panic to half-lidded. His eyes rolled back a little before correcting.
“Are you alright, Kung Lao? Are you ill?” Raiden asked, believing his friend was suffering from something.
“Ah yeah…yeah I’m perfectly fine.” He lied through his teeth.
He tried to close his legs to prevent you from doing anything else but it was useless. You placed yourself between his legs. You were gonna have your fun right now.
You began to leave kisses all over it. They were gentle but it had an effect on Kung Lao. His nostrils were flaring up and he didn’t know where to put his hands. You gave him little licks on his tip. You’re killing him with your teasing. He wanted to thrust his hips but that would bring too much attention. Seeing how his legs jittered gave you the hint and you gave him what he wanted. Your tongue began to swirl around his tip.
Kung Lao’s hands were going crazy trying to keep himself under control. One of his hands was scratching at the table while the other was concealing his mouth just in case he couldn’t hold in any moans. Raiden suspected something was up but didn’t ask. He decided to go on and on about what they needed to do in regards to training. Kung Lao was not taking anything in. All he was thinking about was how good you were making him feel. You grew braver as this went on so you decided to take him all in. He felt your tongue slide down as your warm mouth surrounded his cock.
You’re gonna be the death of him.
He let out a whine and he began shaking a little. Raiden noticed and had to ask since Kung Lao was acting very strangely.
“What is the matter? You are not yourself.”
Kung Lao had to think quickly. What did he decide to say?
“…hungry…” Good thinking, it’s realistic.
Raiden sighed before saying, “Typical. Fine, I will leave you be so you can get yourself food. But once you are done we must discuss our training routine.”
Raiden walked out of the room and Kung Lao immediately got to work. You felt his hands grab onto your head before he stood up. It all happened so fast. You felt his cock go deeper down your throat, causing you to gag a little. He thrusted in and out of your mouth. He was a panting and whimpering mess.
All your teasing made him sensitive. Combined with the fact he had jerked off this whole time even when he so desperately wanted to he was incredibly sensitive down there. If Raiden didn’t leave in time he probably would have came right in front of him.
His cock abused the back of your throat while his fingers grabbed at your hair. His pelvis bumped into your nose multiple times. You began to drool from the inability to swallow in time and the constant movement in your mouth. You felt him twitch and he began to moan. One more thrust and you felt his cum flow down your throat. He was pent up for a long time so there was a lot going down. You had no choice but to swallow it all. That orgasm was needed. He was shaking and sweating. He didn’t even realize the top half of his body was leaning on the table.
He slipped his cock out of your mouth before sitting back down. His head went back and you could see his chest rising up and down a lot from his heavy breathing. Your mouth was a mess. A mess of saliva and cum that was slipping down your lips.
You crawled out from under the table and began to stand up before feeling Kung Lao pick you. He placed you on the table and took your pants off in one fell swoop. He parted your legs before giving you a smile.
“Now’s my turn.” He did say he was hungry. Time to dig in.
His face was between your legs in seconds. Gosh, you forgot how impressive his tongue was. Swirling around and making it a wet mess down there. His lips felt like heaven. They are wonderful for kissing and giving kisses down there. You couldn’t close your legs since his hands were spreading them apart. Good luck trying to fight him, he’s too strong and hungry for you.
Your back rested against the table since you didn’t have the strength to hold yourself up. Your head hung off and you were trying your hardest to be quiet. Your legs began to shake and you tried to push Kung Lao’s head away from down there. He didn’t budge and that orgasm hit you like a brick. Your hands went from his head over to your mouth to cover it. Your moans were muffled but could still be heard by him. Prideful bastard, he loves hearing you moan for him.
You sure made a mess on his face. Kung Lao got on top of the table and crawled on top of you. His lips latched onto yours and you both got a taste of each other. When he pulled away you saw the mess you made but also the large smile on his face.
“Have I ever told you that I love you?” He’s such a sweetheart, right?
Yap notes: I saw slugs this morning and that's cool. Not important but it's important to me. My cat finally came out and asked for pats and I told her I had to finish but nooo she needs pats. Now she is sleeping nearby. If only I could have my dog come near but he is moody right now. OH RIGHT THIS IS A FANFIC I GOT SIDETRACKED. I mean what can I say Kung Lao is a cutie patootie. And he has a big appetite like me when I'm not anxious. What am i gonna do for dinner? Adiós!
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aragaki · 2 days
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Darlin/Pack Members
Because my self-control is zero and I just think Darlin' is the most interesting listener character who also deserves the entire world and William Solaire's wallet.
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Milo
Already wrote some about them here but they're my non-canon otp so ofc I wanna talk about them more
The pack's most photogenic couple. Milo puts in the effort to look good and dress well but Darlin' is just the most effortlessly good-looking. They can roll out of bed in yesterday's clothes and unbrushed hair and any candid shot looks like it belongs on an influencer's curated social media. It drives poor Milo crazy.
Before they moved in together, Milo would send messages to Darlin' throughout the day to let them know what he was up to and where he was going. They never asked but he knows it makes them more comfortable and he's always happy to do it.
Christian can't make his jokes about Milo's wolf size for nearly as long when he's mates with Darlin'. Darlin' isn't a brute, they're a protector, so of course they notice the way Milo's smile tightens when Christian piggybacks onto Ash's jokes. They give him three chances to knock it off and after he doesn't listen to them on strike three, they start swinging. Darlin' doesn't ask Milo to talk to David about how he's feeling but he has to anyway when David interrogates him about what caused Darlin' to break Christian's nose.
Darlin' has always been Marie's favorite and she has no problem saying as much. She's wanted them as her kid for as long as she's known them, little spitfire that they are, and is beyond happy when Milo finally makes it official.
This also means that Marie is Darlin's primary healer and gives them twice the ration of shit that she gives anyone else - including Milo! She loves them so much but will not hesitate to kick their ass for being reckless.
Milo is without a doubt Darlin's lifeline during pack meetings. It's a lot, being home and surrounded by people you thought would be fine without you - who are upset with you for thinking so - and Milo knows all the best places to escape with them. They never admit to needing a breather but he always knows.
Milo and Darlin train together!! They absolutely do!! Darlin' knows they can rock Milo's shit and he does too, and he loves it. When they spar or box together it's always going to end in a makeout session. He can't help it, they look so damn fine all fired up and sweaty. They've absolutely gotten caught but no amount of teasing will get them to stop.
Darlin' doesn't mind dressing up for Milo. It's not their thing usually, simple and maneuverable works best for them but every now and again they can be persuaded with plenty of kisses. Fancy restaurants make them feel out of place but Milo always seems so happy to see them under the light of glittery chandeliers and that makes them happy too.
One time he did manage to piss off Darlin' during a fancy dinner so they pretended to propose to him in front of the entire restaurant and it nearly gave him a heart attack. The cake and champagne they were given more than made up for it though.
When Darlin' sits down, Milo has the habit of coming up behind them and massaging their shoulders and neck. He has a hard time keeping his hands off of them at the best of times but he wants to help get rid of some of their stress so small random massages are his way of helping with that.
Darlin' likes things that are simple and physical, they're a tactile person so they've absolutely got a photo album of them and Milo. Marie even gave them some old pictures of them together from their teens for it. Milo finds it one day by accident and if it had him crying on their bedroom floor for 15 minutes that's between him and Aggro.
Speaking of Aggro, he has a love-hate relationship with Darlin'. They're convinced the cat hates them, the way he swats at them and hisses. They say Milo is Aggro's person and he's jealous that Darlin' takes up so much of his attention. But every night, he tries to climb up and sleep on Darlin's chest, head resting under their chin. And if Milo tries to move him to cuddle with Darlin' he gets a full-force bapping to the face until he gives up and lets Aggro do what he wants.
Darlin' has absolutely shifted and laid down so Aggro could climb up onto their back and nap there. They'll never tell a soul.
I talked about it in my other Milo post but Milo kissing Darlin's scars!! They've been through so much and it's affected their self-image so much. Milo can't stand that. So he kisses each and every one, even the ones that make Darlin' lip curl in disgust at themselves, and say something about them that he loves. Physical, emotional, about their personality. Anything. This praise king could go on forever. And he means it and that's what makes Darlin's heart ache the most.
And when they start to believe it, Milo couldn't be more proud. The crease between their brows when they see themselves smoothes out. They don't sneer at the bite marks that are dotted around their skin nearly as much. They get confidence in how they look, and in how desirable Milo finds them. He can't wait until it turns into true self-love.
Milo has no problem being the in-between for Darlin' and David. Both have strong personalities. Both can word things that, while meant to be loving, can be harsh and wound the one who hears them. Milo doesn't have a lot of patience, but he is fluent in Grumpy Wolf at this point. His interventions have honestly brought the unintentional hostility between them down and made it easier for them to talk about their thoughts, feelings, and opinions on their own.
When they're shifted, they're almost always stuck together. Doesn't matter if it's a hunt, a run during the Solstice, anything. They will not be separated. They're both ready to throw themselves headfirst into whatever danger might happen to protect the other, much to the exhaustion of the rest of the pack who really wish they would just stop throwing themselves into danger.
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Asher
"Well mark me down as scared AND horny!" Has been Ash's response to basically everything Darlin' has done since they were teens.
Seriously, there would be no denying that Darlin' intimidated Asher when they joined the pack. A new wolf from outside of Dahlia joins the pack with a chip on their shoulder a mile wide and so fearless they'll jump in first into any problem??? They're intimidating but also!! They aren't mean to him!!
He was without a doubt one of the members of the pack who tried to help Darlin' integrate the most. He'd include them in anything he could, even if it made his other friends side-eye him. He was shameless about it too!! If they wouldn't spend time with him, he'd be following them around like a lost puppy. It was like they had a second shadow.
Some members of the pack scoff and roll their eyes at Asher but not Darlin'. Even if they don't seem interested in his rambling they're always paying attention. They've always listened. And he didn't realize how important that was to him until it was gone.
Becoming pack beta and David's second in command was a huge shift and he's well aware that plenty of people don't think he's up for it. But Darlin' was never one of them. They had their own quiet belief in Ash and what he could do, never questioned his fit for the role. Even as they withdrew from the pack they knew that David could handle it if he had Asher's support.
After Darlin' fell into the wrong crowd, Ash was the most vocal about getting them back and bringing them home. No argument mattered to him, Darlin' was a member of the pack and they needed to be there. He wasn't above saying it was just because he missed them. That didn't change when they stopped being teenagers. He still feels like a dumb kid with a huge crush who missed his chance.
Then, all at once, it all falls apart. Darlin's unempowered friend is almost killed, by Darln's own mate, and the Shaw pack is rallying behind them to try and push the department to act. Then it goes quiet. They leave, saying they're heading up to be with their family and Ash feels like someone hollowed out his chest. It's how he imagined it feels like when someone's mate dies - a constant ache in his chest. Which he knows he shouldn't feel because regardless of his feelings Darlin' isn't his mate. Hell, they just had to leave theirs because he was a shitty person!!
He's confused and it only gets worse when he finds out Darlin' had been lying to them. That Quinn was still at large, that they put the pack at risk, that they were putting themselves at risk trying to handle it alone. They didn't rely on the pack. On their friends. On him. And his impostor syndrome kicks him off on a spiral. But it doesn't take much to pull him out of it, not when Darlin' is finally back in his life.
As mates, Ash is the Will Smith red carpet meme. He wants everyone to look at his mate, to know that he's their mate and they're soooo in love!! It drives poor Darlin' insane.
And he can get away with it!! And damn near anything because Darlin' is so weak to Ash's puppy dog eyes. They have been since they were teens. If Asher wants a grilled cheese at 3 AM all he has to do is flash those eyes and Darlin' is hauling themselves out of bed, but grumbling about it the entire way.
Asher and Darlin' spend a lot of downtime gaming together. They trade recommendations back and forth, play each other's favorites, and terrorize everyone else who ends up in their lobbies. Darlin' can get a little heated and toxic during PVP but it's always defused by Asher doing an uwu voice and making Darlin' choke on their laughter.
David and Milo are happier than Asher when they finally get together, they've been listening to his lovesick pining for years and they're TIRED.
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David
aka the character that got me into shipping Darlin' with their pack members
David and Darlin have such an interesting dynamic!! The devoted pack alpha and the wayward lone wolf. They both have strong personalities and we've seen them come into conflict with each other
But there's love there. There always has been.
I fully believe that in a David/Darlin' relationship, it'd be a case of he fell first and fell harder. It wasn't love at first sight, David's a bit too cynical for that even before his dad died. But there was a pull to the newcomer that drew him in and helping them settle in wasn't just because of his role as beta.
They were always there, in the background of David, Milo, and Asher's teenage years but never front and center. Always on the fringes, like they never found their footing. Something he wouldn't notice until it was too late.
Then Gabriel dies and Darlin' got together with Quinn. Instead of being distant, they're absent entirely. David knows that Quinn is their mate but something about that burns at his core, makes him feel queasy and unsettled. Like it's wrong. But htere's nothing he can do, he has a pack to run and protect.
The anger and hurt he feels when he finds out that they've been lying to him for so long. That they're trying to hunt down Quinn on their own, so stubborn and self-destructive. The fact that they consider themselves expendable and would risk breaking themselves to avenge their friend and protect the pack. He wants to shake them by the shoulders and tell them they're loved but he knows it'll be better to show them instead.
The pack meeting goes better than he hoped, with members both scolding and reassuring Darlin' of their place and their value. He watches them the whole time out of the corner of his eye and he says it's because he wants to make sure they don't bolt but he knows deep down he's just happy to see them back where they belong
The road to becoming mates is even more bumpy with Darlin' than it would be with Angel. He has to balance being their alpha and their partner and he already feels like he's failed them as a leader, they couldn't even trust him about Quinn.
The shift to being mates came with no small amount of arguing. Darlin' likes to fight with David on just about everything and it drives him crazy. It doesn't matter what it is, big or small it's always some kind of fight or contest and it makes his blood boil but at the same time he loves that little sparkle they get in their eye whenever they challenge him.
When there's a pack run and they're all shifted there's a 100% chance that Darlin' is gonna slam into David's flank and snap at him. Doesn't matter how many times he tells them to stop over the link, they're always going to start shit in a way even Asher wouldn't try.
Honestly, it's like David has two betas the way Darlin' and Asher flank him. And Darlin' isn't above mean-mugging clients if they think they aren't being taken seriously. (again, David tells them to stop. They don't.)
Scary movie nights are even more fun when David and Darlin' are sat next to each other, the contrast makes Darlin's abject terror even more hilarious.
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ff2-soda-pop · 4 months
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I'm starting to question if I should even bother with the stupid paper.... I'm probably just gonna fail anyways lmao
#ive been running around stuck on Babysitter Duty for the past three days and the teacher only gave us any instructions on thursday yet#somehow expected a full paper done and edited by sunday. even if i wasnt stuck on babysitter duty she'd get a shitty paper just due to how#little TIME that is to get things done. but because i am on babysitter duty uhhh..... well so far there's no paper#ive been spending practically full days having to take care of my sister and i cant just Ignore Her so i havent done my paper while watchin#her because again: my focus needs to be on Her. and shes incredibly loud which makes it super hard to focus. fun combo /s#so i was like 'i'll just stay up Really Late and do it then' but that hasn't worked because my sister WONT GO TO BED if im awake. i was up#until 4am last night hoping she'd fall asleep and shut up and i could work but Nope!#and then i got too tired to even care anymore#i've tried explaining this to others and they're just like 'ok well you just need to find a way to make it work :/' which is very much#easier said than done! and im scared about this paper because this teacher doesnt accept late work at all for pretty much any reason#and im sure she wont understand my situation. because shes also the teacher that didnt understand that i didnt have the textbook on time#because it was still being shipped and i dont control the rate at which book ships and she was like#'..........okay well you still need to have the book by tomorrow at least <3' when i told her the book had Just shipped and idk when i'd ge#the dumb thing. so yknow i dont have high hopes about this#also just as extra 'make stuff more difficult' i have zero accommodations because my mom cant keep track of my fucking IEPs and they wont#let me have accommodations unless i have that and idk how to get a copy anymore. so i've also been running around with no help in that area#and it's not great </3#idk im just stressed out and frustrated and i Want To Cry :)#vent
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toomuchdickfort · 6 months
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Vent abt smth that gets on my Nerves
#tried bringing up to mom like. hey how could I bring up coming out to family. and she was like visibly uncomfortable so I was like dw I’m no#gonna like try to ruin Christmas with it or some shit I’m just. nervous u see. and I’m sat there anxiety rambling abt it because oh my god.#and she pulls out the fucking. ‘can’t you just be a person?’ mom I am a person already. the problem is. the PROBLEM IS. EVERYONE THINKS I AM#AND THUS TREATS ME AS A GIRL. like oh my god.#vent#it’s not a huge vent like if it comes up I’m not gonna Lie moms discomfort abt the matter be damned.#but like. ‘can’t you just be a person’ is what she says every fucking time it comes up. like mom. mother. mi madre. do you realize how much#of an insult that feels like when you say it EVERY TIME I bring up trans anxieties. or dysphoria. or any of the ways my transness affects my#life. like being trans doesn’t make me less of a person oh my god. but also frankly I don’t have the patience to be nice about getting into#things and I don’t have the heart to hurt her about it and even if I did have one of those I don’t have the patience to hold her hand#through all this shit. like I gave up having mom on this journey ages ago do you know how painful it is to un-give up on something that#immense. it’s hard and it hurts and it burns and it’s like. giving up to begin with didn’t hurt too bad- it’s cutting off the festering#wound. but. but then. you find out that. you can in fact work with that. and suddenly you have to try and clean the wound. care for it and#wrap it and do it all over again. and god it hurts. and. I’m not entirely sure I want to un-give up all the way on this? it’s. a lot#like I get and I appreciate that she’s trying to do. something. in theory at least. she avoids the subject when I bring it up and all but#cringed when I brought up coming out to her side of the family. she calls me my deadname and her daughter more than she did before she said#she would try. and I don’t have the energy to uncover that wound enough to start cleaning it. I’m just letting it sit there because frankly#it’ll be such a huge thing because it’s Always a huge thing when I don’t let the subject drop mega fast and I’m. I know she’s not gonna cut#me off for just being trans but GOD I want to keep ONE of my parents in my fucking life when I’m able to stand on my own two feet holy shit#and. man. it appears this is. still more of a thing than I thought it was. thats. annoying and inconvenient
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vogelmeister · 7 months
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i have never felt more dumb by a class than i did by language literacy when i was 15
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dix-rose · 6 months
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dracula needs to hit me up I need his mind erasing rn
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jaegerbby · 9 months
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➳ inculpatus
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--͙[satoru gojo x female! reader]-͙-
╰┈➤ word count; 5800
╰┈➤ rundown; satoru is everything you want and more, it is time you gave him a little more of you.
╰┈➤ caution; virgin! reader (also described as having small breasts), established relationship, corruption kink, cunninglingus, size kink, cum eating, ball sucking (?), handjob, dry humping, fingering.
not proof read!
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he is pretty, way too pretty for you to think properly.
"can i suck your dick?" satoru flinches once the words leave your mouth. he is perched on the quaint white sofa in your apartment and maybe you should not have spoken so loosely because his eyes slightly widen as he turns to you.
"sorry! it's just... you haven't tried anything with me." you unsurely speak, avoiding his gaze. satoru is respectful, overly so. you thought inviting him to your place would at least give him a hint without you having to spell it out for him.
sky blue eyes flit over your features before he licks his lips. they are so pink they look doll like. "i don't want to push you." he pauses. "because you're a virgin." while he does not admit it, it undeniably makes him hard.
"i'm not ready for sex but other things." you trail off, "you can do other things with me."
he jaggedly nods, his head feels dizzy after hearing you say he can have his way with you. "i'll do anything you want."
you perk up immediately.
"how do i get it hard?" he follows your gaze as you focus on his crotch. where the grey fabric of his pants are futile in concealing his bulge.
you are too cute. satoru surges forward to press soft wet kisses to the right of your neck before shifting to give the left the same treatment.
your breath picks up at his proximity, you feel the softness of his hair but it is a lot different in this atmosphere.
his large palm cups along your jaw. "you don't have to do anything. i could look at you and my cock gets so hard it hurts. it's worse cause these clothes are so skimpy." his gaze has darkened now, your mouth feels sticky with spit and your stomach turns in an unfamiliar way.
he grips your wrist to bring your hand onto his stiffened erection. "feel that?" he urges your touch along him, it feels hard, long and hot. so hot.
it does not take long before you are caressing him without any assistance, he puffs air into your face. "i didn't make a move cause i didn't want to scare you but i wanted to touch you. whenever you leaned over i saw your titties, i saw how small they are and your puffy nipples. got such cute tits, babe, wanted to suck on them so bad, would you like that?" you mewl at his low voice, his thumb strokes over your bottom lip.
"toru." his expression looks almost pained at how airy you sound, your voice is sexed out already. when you call him like that how is he supposed to stay sane?
he tugs the straps of your vest down, you practically writhe like a cock is in you as your breasts are revealed. you squeeze along his length, your little hand working him despite your lack of experience.
"i want to lick them up, see how much you squirm or if you'd cum from that alone. just from your little tits getting sucked" he paws at your chest, there is barely a handful for him to grope.
he tweaks your nipples, his eyes narrowing and his tongue flicking over his lip. he is so close you can see the sky within his eyes, the thickness of his lashes and the blush along his skin.
"you didn't wear a bra, what about panties? what kind do you wear, ones with little bows, pink, white? what's a virgin like you into? you keep your tight cunt covered in cute ones or do you dress her like a whore?" you moan at the vulgarity, your forehead leaning on his while you lose your bearings.
your pussy is a soaking mess and if you could, you would press your thighs together to relieve the ache that is building up the longer satoru invades your space.
your insides clench and clamp down, they feel like they are begging for something. satoru tugs your hand away from his heady cock and you whine.
"why don't you show me? show me what you have under those slutty shorts." he pinches at your nipple hard enough to make you wince, his teeth flashing as he smiles. he looks so pretty, far too perfect to be real.
your palm slowly strokes your pussy over your shorts, satoru's eyes hold yours before they flit down to look at you touch yourself.
his hands reach for your waist, bunching up in the fabric of your vest. he is so big and strong, his muscles flex and pulse. your fingers prod the waist band, biting your lip as you slip further in.
the soft skin of your pussy meets your fingers and the wetness pooling from your slit drenches them after. it is hot and syrupy. he can see bare skin where your hand keeps the fabric pulled taunt.
"i didn't wear any. cause you'd be here. i thought about you seeing my pussy through my shorts. did you, toru? when i answered the door or when i sat down did you see it?" he groans, rolling his head against yours.
you stroke down your slit, you are wetter than usually. you are so much wetter now than when you are touching yourself to the thought of him.
"you're driving me crazy. yeah i saw it. i saw your little cunt. you need to be careful, i'll start thinking you're telling me to take your pussy when you do things like this." you face contorts, satoru's hand trailing along your sides and his voice sounds like a wet dream come through.
you pump the underside of your fingers along your swollen opening. "i am, toru. it's already yours." your voice is all shaky and you do not sound like yourself at all.
you are all whiny and borderline desperate. you sound like you need to get fucked. you hurriedly tug your hand away to grip his face and press your mouth to his.
the slick from your fingers taints his skin and you hardly know how to kiss but satoru tilts his head to deepen it. he is a good kisser but you knew that already, you have kissed him before but never this exposed, never with this palpable tension.
he hums into your mouth, his hand cupping your throat as his tongue glides over yours. you feel like the saliva pools in your mouth, you suck on his bottom lip then you kiss him harder.
your fingers pull on his hair, your teeth gnashing. it is open mouthed and desperate. the kiss is all wet and sloppy and any time either of you pull back the other chases.
the other pushes forward to keep your mouths connected. wet smacks fill the room, his tongue claims every part of your mouth it already has and when you both lean back your chest is heaving
"fuck, oh fuck." you pant and your fists tangle in his shirt to pull him back in, your lips glide along satoru's, spit swapping and your cunt aching the more you kiss him.
you think you might give him your virginity this very moment.
his thumb strokes your throat, using his grip to draw you closer. your entire body is vibrating, you feel like every neurone in your system is firing off.
you whine, your mouth leaving his with a sticky smacking noise. "i think m'losing it." you breathlessly mutter, satoru drags his finger along your lips, smearing the saliva across the swollen flesh.
"i am too, you shouldn't have let me touch you. i won't be able to stop." you look so innocent, yet your hair is all messed up, your lips are puffy from kissing so aggressively, your cute little boobs are exposed and your pussy is so insanely wet, there is a wet patch through your shorts.
it drives satoru insane, how can you look like sin incarnate and still have innocence all over your face.
"i don't want you to stop." he groans at your admission, you need to stop before he is too far gone. you need to stop before satoru starts thinking about how the inside of your tight virgin pussy will feel. all hot, gooey and sticky. he just knows your leaky little fuck hole would take his shape so well.
he leans in to peck your lips, satoru needs to stop thinking. "m'not letting you suck my cock." you stare at him in disappointment. why are you doing that? satoru has half a mind to stick his cock in one of your holes and you are making it far too difficult not to.
his hands caress your hair, smoothening it down before he cups your face. he wants to bite your pouty lips and never stop kissing them at the same time.
"not today, not gna slip my cock in your tight baby throat and feel all those little muscles gripping me, no cause i want to eat up your pussy instead. i want to taste how sweet you are and stick my tongue in that virgin hole." your fingers paw at his body, feeling his hard stiff muscles beneath them. he tugs off your vest and you lay back as he reaches for the waist band of your shorts.
a deep sound rumbles in his chest when the material peels away from your cunt and he sees it for the first time.
"c'mon didn't you want me to see? spread your legs." and you do, without any fanfare. satoru's large palms coax along the back of your thighs before he cups under your knees to keep you open for his prying eyes. satoru wonders how long you had been thinking about showing him your hot sticky pussy.
he wishes you showed him sooner but he might have lost it since then. your cunt is dripping with slick, it leaks down your hole to your ass. you look all pink inside satoru wants to see it stretched around him, he wants to feel you gripping his cock and milking him dry.
"got such a pretty pussy, i'm lucky, so fucking lucky. my pretty girl is so gorgeous. look at this messy little hole, she's so wet, fuck." the tips of his fingers trail along your slit, collecting your wetness before he rolls your stiff clit. you jolt as he strokes your bundle of nerves. the mewl that escapes you is borderline pornographic.
he leans over to lap at your lips and then he is shoving his tongue in your mouth to roughly kiss you. his entire body is between your legs, he covers you completely. he is so big it makes you ditzy. he is hard and muscular all over.
when he is on you like this, all you can think about is how easily he could fuck you, it is all you want. you want him pounding into your pussy until you are brainless. he is so close he could take you right now if he pleased.
your hands tangle in his hair, trailing down his jaw and neck before you squeeze his broad shoulders. satoru moans into your mouth, propping his arm beside your head to crowd over you more.
your hips stuttering as he rubs your clit harder. you feel his bulge hitting the back of your thigh, hot on your skin beneath his clothes. you want to see it, you want to touch it.
"toru, i want to see you" a growl rumbles in his throat and he licks into your mouth. "take it off, please" you tug at his shirt, he does not want to stop kissing you. his expression is pained as he pulls away, hurriedly yanking off his shirt to reveal his narrow waist and the muscles all over his body.
you giggle when he shoves his pants down and almost falls over. he climbs onto you with an embarrassed smile on his face and blush coating his cheeks. "you laughing at me?" you hum. "cause you're cute and i like you." you brush the long hair away from of his forehead and wrap your legs around his narrow waist to tug him in.
when his covered erection meets your slit you both breathe heavily. "why didn't you take these off?" your finger prods the waistband of his boxers. your eyes are on his, the same ones that look like every sunny sky is held within them.
"i don't trust myself to not fuck you. if i take them off, you won't be a virgin for much longer." you shiver beneath him. that does not sound like a threat, it sounds like the solution to everything.
like something you need to keep breathing. satoru is big, every muscle in his body is defined, you can trace each one with your eyes. his shoulders, his abs, his biceps. you want to see how they flex and bulge when he is losing himself in your cunt. how they will pulse when he is fucking you.
he gropes your breasts, his tongue laving over your nipple before he sucks down on the perked flesh. your legs jerk when he thrusts his hips into yours. your stomach feels tight, you feel like there are too many butterflies within the small space.
your pussy leaks so much liquid it drenches the front of his boxers, it only makes it easier for him to hump away with your pussy. his bulky thighs are warm as they press into the back of yours to hold you open. satoru pants into your skin, you can see the ripple of his back muscles as he fucks his hips.
there are wet smacks of his cock colliding with your cunt, this alone feels so good, you know it would feel a million times better if he was actually fucking you. you want him to have you, you want the real thing. it turns your brain to mush, makes your cunt ache and your tummy tremble.
he is breathless when he kisses you, it is hard and sloppy. almost as hard as his cock grinding against you. it is thick and long, you want to have it in your hand, down your throat, inside you.
you never thought depravity would ruin you like this but it does and it is okay because satoru is the only one you will get like this for.
his hands desperately grip your cheeks and jaw. you moan as he pulls back to slam his hips particularly hard. hard enough to make your body jerk and your back arch.
"i want to eat you out. i need your pussy in my mouth, need to know how you taste." you whine, your nails dig into his nape, thighs squeezing on either side of his hips.
"anything, toru. anything you want." you mewl. the friction on your pussy has your head in a mess, more of a mess than the slick leaking from your untouched hole.
he presses his stuttering hips flush to yours, his hefty length digging into your cunt. "you don't know how much i thought about this, i used to rub my dick raw when i thought about getting my mouth on you. my tongue in you, wanted to smell and taste your pussy so bad."
he slowly kisses down your sternum, hands trailing over the heat his lips leave in their wake. his palms are so wide, just one spans your waist. just one covers the plane of your stomach. his mouth seems to water the closer he gets to your sex.
you tug your legs to your chest, your hands folded and resting over your mouth. you tense when satoru presses his nose into your slick and nudges the flesh. it is embarrassing, even after all you did, it makes you more flustered than you can explain.
"you smell like heaven, baby. fuck don't ever keep this cunt away from me." his tongue flicks out to lave over your buzzing clit and your eyes shut tightly. it is when he reaches your dripping hole does your body stiffen the most.
your toes curl as he licks you greedily, sucking at the sodden flesh. it is like he does not want to stop. he presses further, his tongue flattening over the expanse of your pussy as he licks it entirely.
"fuck, babe. your pussy's too perfect." his eyes flick upwards, they are blown out and predatory. he spreads your lips before wetly spitting a thick glob into you.
he drags it along your slit before plunging a finger inside. it is long and thick, a lot thicker than any of yours. you writhe at the intrusion.
"how am i supposed to fuck such a tight hole? won't be able to take it, i might just rip your cute little cunt apart." his mouth encloses your clit, sucking and licking as he fucks his finger into you. the pace he sets is fast and riveting, it has you moaning like a freaked up slut instead of a virgin.
you brokenly cry when he adds another finger and your insides are stretched more than they are used to. you can hear the soaked soppy noises of your hole being slammed into over and over, his slimy mouth on your clit.
it is so embarrassing. yet it feels so good, getting your insides stroked and having his mouth somewhere you never thought it should be made your entire body buzz.
his mouth wetly separates from your clit with a sticky pop. "you like that? yeah you do, got your pussy dripping all over me." he thrusts his fingers, deep and fast. like he has done it countless times before.
you dumbly nod your head, your insides squeezing his digits and your hips rutting to meet his movements. he pounds into your hole until the creamy liquid is dripping down his wrist and there are tears in your eyes. saliva webs in your mouth while you moan. he slowly pulls his digits out of you.
"you okay?" you hum, sniffling. your eyes trail along his glistening fingers, it is weird to think they were just inside of you. satoru looks at you as he kisses your abdomen, caressing your thigh before his tongue glides along your entrance.
the tip prods your cunt and you whine lowly when the hot slimy muscle finally sinks in, hips tilting at the strange sensation. he groans into your flesh, his jaw dropping to press deeper. the tip of his perfect nose nuzzles against your clit and your eyes flutter constantly.
your lids threaten to shut as his mouth drips saliva onto you and the muscle squirms within your gooey walls. the knot in your stomach pulls tighter and tighter, your thighs tensing at the sight of him bobbing his head between your legs.
your shaky fingers find purchase in fluffy white locks. the feeling of his tongue being pumped into you makes your mind go blank, it makes your mouth water and your insides tighten.
squelching sounds fill the room as he eats your cunt up. his tongue going so deep your vision blurs.
"toru, toru, toru." you did not realise you were moaning. blue eyes flick up to look at you, you who is so lost in pleasure your head is leaned back and your chest is heaving.
satoru thinks if he had to choose the happiness moment in his life it would be here, with you. you were intoxicating enough but having you like this meant he could never be without you.
your slick in his mouth drives him insane, he wants it on his tongue always, he could die happy if your pussy is the last thing he has. he sucks up your drenched hole before moving to your clit.
he laps at the mound, fingers filling your hole to replace his tongue. the faster he shoves into you the more you tremble, the more your body jolts and the tighter you grip his hair. they reach for his shoulders instead, nails digging into his flesh and it makes satoru think about you clawing his skin when his cock is buried balls deep in you.
your voice is all high pitched and whiny, your head writhes against the couch, hips bucking into his face. he does not give you a break, despite your moans being broken and shaky.
no, he slams his fingers into your creamy pussy, feeling your walls pulsing around him as he quickly thrusts into you.
your liquid splatters with the pace of his movements, his mouth alternating between sucking your clit and licking it up. your voice is all honey dew and dreamy when you cream.
satoru groans at the taste of your cum, still fingering your innocent hole as he laps at the evidence of your orgasm. your thighs tremble and you roll your hips into his face, breathless with the weight of your high.
satoru's jaw is covered with slick when he moves over you, his other hand still gently caressing between your folds after slipping out of your sensitive slit. "why do you know how to do that?" you mumble.
"i had to know just so i could do it with you." he flashes you the prettiest smile. you trace his jawline, your blurred eyes trailing over his messy hair, his lengthy lashes, his gorgeous eyes and the slope of his nose.
the pinkness of his lips is more swollen than usual and cum drips down his jaw. even so he lacked imperfections.
satoru pecks your cheek "you were so good, such a perfect girl." he presses his body flush onto yours, both of his arms hugging your figure.
your smile is flustered with his weight on you, you keep him as close as possible. you are overwhelmed in a good way.
you think you would do this countless times so long as it is with satoru. he buries his face into the crook of your neck and sighs softly.
"i don't think i could be without you." truly, he thinks it might break him. you press a kiss to his hair, your hand stroking down the toned bulked up expanse of his back.
"you'll always have me, toru." the sound that escapes him is something like a whine as he leans in to peck your lips.
"we should clean up." you slowly let go when he sits himself up. satoru's arm is resting along the back of the couch, one leg folded while the other rests on the tiled floor.
his dexterous hand adjusts his cock through his boxers. the thickness looks like it is struggling with the constricting fabric. your body feels lighter, the mess between your legs is a bit uncomfortable but you tug them to your chest and look at the male before you.
he is way too big, it makes you all tingly inside. like he could hurt you if he wanted to but he does not. like if he held you, his arms would be the most impenetrable fortress. 
"what do you want to do after?" he leans his head back, his eyes turn to you and his adam's apple bobs. he is looking at you but you are staring at his evident erection.
the thin material of his boxers does nothing to hide the girth of his aching cock nor does it conceal the wet patch from his pre cum.
"so shameless." he slyly smiles, he reaches to nudge your chin but his resolve falters when your gaze flits between his crotch and his eyes and your cute little tongue trails along the seam of your kiss swollen lips.
he hopes you do not say what he knows you will because satoru cannot resist you. not a single ounce of him has the strength to refuse you.
"toru, i can take care of you too." his smile slowly drops and his mouth dries. his eyes go dark and he tilts his head.
"yeah?" he sees your little hands bunch into fists before you perch yourself on your knees and you lean closer to him.
satoru wants you this close forever, to always see, touch and have no matter what. your hair frame your face and your lips pouts with your words.
"if you want to use my mouth or anything else, you can." you are temptation. you are temptation in the form of an angel.
satoru swallows hard, he shifts closer to you, hands cupping either side of your head. he kisses your forehead before nuzzling your nose with his.
"today isn't about me, we'll do it another time." your eyes flit over his features, leaning in to peck his plush pink lips. you grips his wrists, stroking them.
"but i want to do it now, i really want to see it." satoru breathes heavily. he feels like there is no air in his lungs.
"okay." it comes out soft, you are too good for him. "i just need you to put something on if i'm taking my boxers off."
his large palm trails down your bare chest "you're too pretty, you're everything i want and i don't trust myself to not take you." you slowly nod before holding his hand. satoru follows you without a question, he would follow you to ends of the earth without any hesitation.
your bedroom is pink where your apartment is white everywhere else, it is like you were hiding all the colour in here. it is his first time in your bedroom despite the countless times you slept over in his.
you have plushies all over your bed, the sheets are pink, your fluffy pillows are pink, your closet is wide open and all that meets the eye is pink. your laptop, headset, desk. it is all pink.
you leave him beside your bed and he sits at the edge with an increasingly painful erection making his boxers tight.
his eyes trail over your room and he has to adjust his cock again. this should not be a turn on.
yet something about you, a pretty little thing like you touching yourself in such an adorable room, getting fucked by him in here.
the thought of him pressing your face into these pink sheets and rawing your cunt with reckless abandon. it makes him lose his mind.
he winces as he tugs his swollen cock. when you come back into his view, pink lacy panties are covering your pussy and the matching bra that conceals your tits makes satoru groan.
you draw closer to him and his large palms caress your hips. "now i know you wear cute panties." he jokingly says but there is a desperate undertone in his voice.
when you kneel down, satoru thinks he might be too turned on to think. he wants to keep you to himself.
your hand strokes along his happy trail before teasing the waistband framing his deep v line. he gently grasps your wrist, preventing you from going further.
"we'll leave the blow job for another day, okay? you can use your hand, i'll tell you what to do." you nod yet your eyes look all hungry. his abs tense, staring at your face as he tucks his thumbs into his boxers and tugs them down his thighs.
finally having his aching cock unrestricted has him grunting. your expression is so flustered yet you are pressing your legs together to dull that burning desire at the sight of him.
he grits his teeth, you are staring at it, from the pinkness of his swollen tip, to the dip where his head meets his shaft. the hefty girth with veins trailing down it, there is one particularly prominent one along the underside.
satoru wants to make you feel every inch of it inside, he wants to make you take his shape. maybe he is thinking too deeply, he jolts when your mouth surrounds the side of his ballsack and your little tongue is laved along it repeatedly. "don't- ohmfuck. okay, okay." he pants, fingers curling into his palms.
you need to stop before satoru shoves his entire cock down your throat without any care that you are gagging and choking on it. the gasp that leaves him is way too shaky. his tip goes past your face, it is over the crown of your head, it is too big for you. he is too big for you but he cannot not touch you.
he needs you like he needs air. he hums softly, he should stop you. he really should but he cannot when you are sucking at his balls. your little hands resting on his upper thighs and your mouth is draining him of any self preservation.
"you like it?" there is a sticky noise as your mouth pulls back, so much saliva on his skin. it is even webbed in your mouth.
"mm, you're so big toru." hearing those words in your soft voice makes his cock ache. he should not, he really should not but he needs to see it.
"keep that pretty baby mouth closed." he cups the back of your head, gripping his cock and squeezing it tightly before he presses it into your cheek. he curses, burning it into memory as he rubs his mushroom tip along your lips. his pre cum looks better than any lipgloss you own.
his fingers tangle in your hair to make you look up at him. having pretty little you, kneeling in nothing but laced panties chips away at satoru's restraint.
"want you to wrap your hand around it, can you do that for me?" you hum, when he lets go your fingers take his place. right around his base, your hand is so much smaller and so much softer. your fingers do not even reach around the perimeter of his cock.
his breaths are all laboured and hard, "don't put it in your mouth, just lick the head." his thumb strokes your cheek and you lean closer. your squirming slimy tongue trails over the slit and satoru throbs against the muscle.
"fuck, baby, you're so good at listening." he grips your hand to guide you up and down his length. "squeeze it a bit and move your hand like this." pre cum dribbles and he lets you do it on your own. it is jerky and unsure but somehow your hand feels so much better than his. he leans back on his arms, his hips moving slightly, his chest heaving and his dick begging for release.
"am i doing okay?" you mumble, begging for praise, feeling the ridges of his cock along your fingers while you slowly stroke up over his thick head and down his shaft.
the liquid seeping from his tip glides down along the sides and collects on your fingers, making it easier to jerk him off.
"more than okay, pretty girl. you're perfect." satoru's hand tangles in your pink sheets, the other reaching to tuck your hair behind your ear.
"faster?" you tilt your head, you are like a puppy. the cutest one ever.
"if you want." he grunts, when your hand starts pumping at his cock more, his eyes roll back. the muscles along his thighs flexing, all over his body in fact. he cannot help but fuck his hips upwards to meet your movements.
he is leaking incessantly, it coats your hand and it sounds all sticky and wet when you rub his cock. satoru curses, he feels like a virgin, maybe it was you, maybe it was your hand on him but it made his stomach all tight and his cock throb with no control.
you stroke at his base with a vigorous pace, your other hand surrounding his upper shaft and moving much slower. he jerks, teeth gritting when your tongue laves over the pinkness of his head before you take it in your mouth. it is so warm and wet, it makes him lose his mind.
your lips rest right before his shaft and the second you suck, satoru tightly grips the sheets, his head hanging and his jaw dropped to moan erotically.
"baby, baby what are you doing to me?" his unsteady palm caresses the crown of your head, petting you like the sight of his cock in your mouth does not tear him to bits. like it has not thrown him over the edge.
he wonders if you can feel him pulsing against your tongue. he wants to know what deeper in your little mouth would feel like wrapped around him.
"you're so fucking good, holy shit. never felt this good before." he groans and your eyes meet his, your wide innocent looking eyes despite how he has tainted you already. you look too pure for what you are doing.
"fuck m'gna cum. gna cum, take your mouth off baby." his hips stutter, muscles jumping. his toes curl into the fluffy mat beneath you both. you are still licking and wetly slurping around his head while you stroke his cock. the heated muscle of your tongue laving at his slit.
satoru's never came this quick before. his lids keep fluttering, he cannot stop groaning. his mind is too occupied with the thought of cumming in your mouth to stop you though he knows he should.
you keep touching and satoru has lost it already. he does not realise he is cumming in your little mouth until your hands have slowed down and you are teary eyed with milky liquid dripping down your jaw.
he curses. satoru is so sensitive and you are swallowing, why do you keep swallowing?
"baby, don't swallow. fuck, you don't have to." your hands shift to rest on his thighs, your brows furrowed and your little throat still bobbing.
you lean back and strands of cum are webbed in your mouth, still connected to his softening member. it drips onto the rug beneath you.
you sniffle, swallowing hard while you gaze up at him. your eyes are all glossy and pretty.
"i didn't think it would be that much." you are on your knees, right in front of him with your belly full of his cum, looking like the sweetest girl in the whole world.
you are his, you are all his. you have to be.
he cups either side of your face, leaning down to kiss you hard. he tilts his head, his tongue gliding over yours and the taste of his cum heavy in your mouth.
he reaches under your arms to lift you into his lap, nose nuzzling yours while he hugs you close. you are so much smaller you tuck right in along his large frame.
"i like you too much." he breathes into your shared air.
satoru cannot get enough of you.
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saetoru · 11 months
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。i know you still think about the times we had
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synopsis. satoru will always comes when you call him, he just never thought you’d stop calling
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— word count. 5.2k (where did i go wrong)
— contents. college au, rich boy! gojo, break ups and make ups <3, it’s the cliche trope where the rich guy’s parent forces you to leave him aka gojo’s father is the villain, angst with a happy ending—i don’t want my cause of death to be angry rb! gojo stans, emo gojo ft. marvin’s room (iykyk), cliche rain scene—this fic is so cliche i’m sorry, reader is gn! but gojo is mentioned to like pics of girls on instagram (he was being petty)
— notes. well, it finally happened. the long awaited break up. this one’s for you niku 🤞🏽 AND DABITEE ANON
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you open the door when satoru knocks—just barely, though. it’s just enough to hand him the bag with the remaining things he’s left at your apartment. it feels familiar, being here, but it feels so different too. it’s always been happy knocking on your door—he never thought he’d dread letting his knuckles meet the cool wood. it’s like taking the last bite of something sweet when you’re too full. when the sugar is too decadent on your tongue and your head spins and your stomach twists and it’s too much even though it used to be so good.
it’s too much being here. it’s too much trying to meet your gaze and get nothing in return. it’s too much being handed back that sweater he basically let you keep. and yet, it’s good to see you. he wants nothing more than to be here with you, wherever you are, even if you don’t want him to stay.
“that should be everything,” you murmur, still looking down. “let me know if there’s anything missing.”
satoru would never tell you if there’s something missing. he’d never come back and demand back something he gave you, he doesn’t think he could ever take back something he gave you—being handed back his heart after pressing it to your palms is hard enough. but then again, maybe he should look for small things you probably missed. just so he can come back. just so he can see you—how else will he see you now?
“no, it’s alright,” he says quietly. he doesn’t miss the way you quickly let go as soon as his hands grab the bag, almost like you’re being careful enough not to let your fingers meet each other. “you can uh…you can just keep them. or…throw them out if you don’t want them,” he mumbles.
you nod, standing there silently. it’s quiet, and then it’s quiet some more. and finally, you look up at him for the first time since he got here, staring at him a little expectantly. oh, right. now would be the part where he leaves.
“can i…can i just know why?” he croaks. fuck. he’s not supposed to cry. you ripped his heart out and threw it at his feet, you didn’t even care to hand it to him even after you tore every artery apart. but he sniffles anyway, lips wobbling as he stares at you. “why are you leaving me?”
your fingers twitch, like you itch to reach over and wipe that tear that rolls down his cheek. in the end, you cross your arms instead. “i already told you, satoru—”
“that’s bullshit,” he clicks his teeth, shaking his head as he stares at you frustratedly, “you gave me some bullshit reason.”
satoru has worked so hard to be here—to be with you. hadn’t he done enough? hadn’t he told you about himself, things he didn’t want to? hadn’t he tried to become something, someone more than just a guy swimming in trust funds? hadn’t he worked for your attention, waited outside classes and walked opposite directions in the hall with you just to seem dedicated? fuck, he even burned his hand trying to learn how to make pancakes to impress you, let the maids laugh at him as he twisted the stove the wrong way to try and turn it on. 
why wasn’t it enough? what more could he give you than everything? how can the guy who has everything not have enough to give? he doesn’t understand.
“satoru, we weren’t gonna work,” you pinch your nose—it’s like you’re the one who doesn’t understand why he’s being like this. “the sooner you accept that the more hurt you’re saving the both of us—”
“we were working just fine,” he says exasperatedly. it’s like you insist he’s crazy when he’s nothing but sane. like he’s trying to tell you the sky is blue, and you’re refusing to believe it’s anything other than green. it’s clear. it’s practically a fact. you were doing just fine—why don’t you see that? “we were happy,” he takes a step forward and cups your cheeks, pressing his forehead to yours, “was it someone? did they tell you something? just tell me who, baby—i’ll fix it. i’ll put them in their place, okay? no one can bother you if i get them to leave you alone—”
“then you leave me alone,” you whisper. he stills. you pull away from his hands. “sator—gojo. please just leave me alone. it’s better that way.”
you close the door, and he stands there. numb. maybe a little shocked. entirely ruined.
gojo. he laughs quietly after a moment at that—it’s a laugh meant for men who’ve lost the last thread to sanity. gojo. it’s like a slap in the face, being called the name he worked so hard to get you to drop. it took him weeks—months, even, to convince you to call him satoru. then he upgraded to toru. then it was baby. sometimes you teased him and called him pumpkin—he called you peaches in return. when you introduced him, you called him your boyfriend. 
not anymore. now he’s back to gojo—that god-forsaken name with everything but what he really wants attached to it. his grandfather’s legacy. his future. business deals. fancy invites. more money than he knows what to do with. the name gojo comes with everything but you.
but he had you for a bit, didn’t he? when he was just satoru—but now he’s gojo again, and you’re gone. the only sign of you left is in the faint traces of your perfume in the sweaters you’ve returned. 
and satoru still isn’t sure what brought the break up on. he thinks it’s the part that stings the most—when everything seems perfect one second, and then it’s not. had he not tried enough? maybe he was too much. maybe he didn’t understand you the way you needed him to. maybe he was too overbearing. maybe he asked for too much too fast. 
he’s not sure. he tried asking when you broke it off—you only shook your head and said it wasn’t going to work out between the two of you, that it was a mistake to try at all. mistake? how could you call this a mistake? things were so perfect, weren’t they?
satoru doesn’t think there was even one second he wasn’t smiling when he was with you, and he used to think the same was true for you too. had you been faking it this long? or was it real at one point—had he really failed you so badly, seen past you so blindly that he didn’t notice when your smiles stopped reaching your eyes?
it’s too late, he figures. you and satoru are broken up. 
you ask him to come over one morning, and he does—because he always comes when you call. he brings your coffee order from that cafe you like, the one you don’t go to often because the coffee is more overpriced than any other coffee shop you’ve ever seen. he’s grinning when you open the door, leans in to kiss your lips excitedly. you turn your head then, and his lips meet your cheeks instead—he supposes he should’ve known it at that moment. he should’ve seen that your lips weren’t smiling. your eyes were tired, a little red. you were hugging yourself in that way you do when you’re nervous. you didn’t let him kiss your lips, you made him kiss your cheek. 
and then you sat him down on that worn-down couch of yours, took off that bracelet his mother gave him to gift you on your anniversary, and pressed it to his palm as you said we should break up. break up. you wanted to leave him—and satoru didn’t understand, still doesn’t understand. 
he’s tried for so long, replayed the last month of your relationship in his head over and over and fucking over. you always smiled. you kissed him first. you held his hand, and even squeezed. you asked to see him. you laughed when he was around. you said i love you. you were happy. but then you weren’t—when did you stop being happy? and how could you have stopped feeling it with him?
—————
breaking up with satoru is the hardest thing you’ve ever done. how long can people live without the sun? you think not longer than a few minutes—that’s what it feels like without satoru’s warmth, anyway. 
gojo satoru has always smiled as long as he’s been with you. he smiled smugly on your first meet, smiled bitterly after every rejection, smiled in pure glee when you finally said yes, and smiled like his fingertips could touch the sky every time he saw you after that. 
satoru has never looked sad for long in your presence—you have that effect on him, you make his lips curl and his eyes brighten in that way that they deserve to shine. but for the first time ever, his eyes dim with you around, his lips curl into a frown at your words, and he cries for you. his eyes glisten with tears instead of wonder, and you think for a moment that you might be making a mistake. 
but then you remember that this is for the best—that if you really love gojo satoru, you’ll let him go instead of clipping his wings.
“he’s picked up his things,” you speak quietly into the phone. you don’t sniffle even as you desperately need to—it’s the last bit of control you have left, and you intend to keep it. “i won’t be seeing him again.”
“good,” his father speaks, “that’s good to hear.” 
satoru’s father is a cold man, you learn that on the first meet. he doesn’t look at his wife with a soft look that tells you there’s any love built between the decades of marriage, and he doesn’t look at his only son with any affection for the boy he raised. instead, he stares at satoru like any businessman would an opportunity—with a calculating gaze that tries to work out the best course of action for the most profit. 
satoru is young, but he’s charming and conniving and knows how to get what he wants when he wants—he’s quick on his feet and rarely lets himself get cornered into a wall. in the last three generations of the family business, no heir has shown as much promise as gojo satoru. that’s what his father tells you, anyway. you believe him—satoru is smart and knows how to play his cards right, you won’t deny that. his future is set to be comfortable, and he’s never known anything outside of that, never built any other plans for himself. 
you can’t rip that away from him—not for your own sake, not for your own happiness. 
“you promised you wouldn’t freeze his trust funds once i ended things,” you remind him, “and that he’d keep his inheritance.” somehow, because the world grants you this one favor, your voice doesn’t shake—it’s steady and firm as it reminds the stone-cold man at the end of the line of your agreement—and he offers a slow chuckle that makes your jaw clench. 
“yes, i do recall,” he hums, “i’m glad we could come to agree. you understand, don’t you? it is my job as his father to do what’s best for him.”
you know what he’s saying—what that means. you’re not what’s best for him. maybe he’s right—maybe satoru needs someone who’s equally as promising to build a successful company into even more success. maybe he needs someone who can take him out for a change to those fancy places he takes you every few weeks. maybe he needs someone who’s heard of half the brands he wears and doesn’t scold him to turn the lights off so the electricity bill isn’t high. maybe he needs someone who can keep up with everything that gojo satoru is—and that someone is not you, no matter how deeply you love him. 
“—the offer still stands, should you change your mind. i’m willing to compensate you for the trouble this must all be.” 
your lips curl into a scowl at his words. that’s the thing about rich people, you think—money is always enough to sugarcoat everything. why worry about the dead grass in your lawn when you can paint it green? but you don’t leave satoru for extra cash on your hands—nothing can be worth auctioning off the only man who’s ever made you feel anything. you leave satoru because he deserves to continue living comfortably, to make a name for himself that isn’t just a ghost of his father’s. if that means being cut from the corner of the picture, you’re willing to pick up the scissors yourself. 
“no thanks,” you hiss, “i don’t need the money.”
“i would disagree,” his father sneers, “but suit yourself.”
the line ends, and for good this time, satoru is no longer yours. was he ever to begin with? 
—————
you try to forget your ex-boyfriend—keyword, try. every hour of your life consists of you using your burner account to refresh his instagram page to see if he’s posted anything new. you unfollow satoru from every social media platform the same day he picks up his belongings—you know he’s noticed within the first thirty minutes because all of his pictures with you are gone, just like all your pictures with him. 
in what you assume is an attempt to be petty, he likes every picture of every girl he sees, and he even blocks you on twitter—you know he picks twitter because twitter is the only social media that blatantly states you’re blocked. but then you’re unblocked in two days, and you know he must be missing you now that the initial anger is faded. 
it makes you laugh a little, even through your tears. satoru is not satoru without petty fits of emotion, and you can’t bring yourself to be mad, not when it’s your fault he’s hurting like this. he’s extra sad today, you gather—if the way marvin’s room is posted to his instagram story on a blank screen is of any hint. it makes you scoff in amusement that in true gojo satoru fashion, he’s effectively told all eight-thousand-something of his followers he’s pathetically in his feelings. 
you scroll through suguru’s story, too—he didn’t unfollow you even after satoru temporarily blocked you, but you figure suguru is the only person satoru really has. you shouldn’t keep yourself close to him, not when it could hurt satoru more, so you remove him too. 
suguru is, as always, drinking at some fancy party with obnoxiously rich college students who have not a care in the world for midterms around the corner. who needs to pass when you’re swimming in money whether or not you have a degree? the first thing you learn about the rich is that most of them are only at college for the experience—they don’t see college as the stepping stone to better opportunities, there’s nothing education could offer that trust funds already don’t. but satoru attends college for himself—he enjoys business classes, you learn, and especially finance ones. for someone who spends money so carelessly, he understands it particularly well. 
there’s no sign of satoru at whatever party it is suguru is at, there’s no trace of strikingly bright white strands anywhere in any corners—you do see naoya in a corner, though, and you crinkle your nose in distaste. if satoru were here, he’d say something bitterly under his breath about the asshole, and you would giggle. but satoru is not here, and even naoya the women-hating jackass makes you miss your obnoxiously whiny ex-boyfriend. 
everything reminds you of satoru. that bear he won you at the fair (after maybe six tries) by your pillows, those polaroids at your desk that you can’t bring yourself to take down, that sticky note on your fridge he left promising to replace the creamer he finished (he’s replaced it more times than he’s needed to by now), that extra big blanket you keep on the couch because the old one barely covered his legs, that pair of silly matching mugs you both had for coffee in the mornings. 
every corner of your apartment has something that reminds you that satoru was here, that he was yours, that for a short while, he was the best thing you ever had. it’s your fault, you think—that satoru and you are here in this mess in the first place. he’s always looked at life through a hopeful lens. having everything does that to you, makes you ignorant to the misfortunes of the world, makes you think everything is within the realm of your reach. you, on the other hand, knew this was bound to happen. the two of you together is like hot oil and cool water—what feels like sparks is just the oil shooting out to burn you. you should’ve known this would have never lasted. 
in a way, you think you did. it’s why you hated him so fiercely at first—maybe deep down, you always knew you wanted him, that he would never be yours. maybe that’s why you were so adamant about rejecting him, that even when he was clearly trying, it would never be enough. satoru has always been enough, has always been what everyone has wanted—you’re not so sure you can say the same for yourself. 
you love gojo satoru. he loves you too—he falls first, and you think maybe, he might have fallen harder too. no one loves like satoru. they say if you press coal hard enough, it turns to diamonds—you think if you gave satoru coal, he would hand you back the sun and all of her stars. it’s just the kind of guy he is, the one that turns everything dull into something bright and warm and worth it. you wish you didn’t have to break his heart, you wish you could’ve walked out of this the only one hurt. but maybe, at the very least, if you break him good enough that he hates you, he’ll move on quicker, maybe have something to look forward to while you continue to work your way up and cheer him on. 
before you can refresh suguru’s page one more time to stalk his story, you’re pulled from your thoughts as someone knocks on your door—correction: pounds on your door. you jolt on your couch, standing up and making your way to the front door quickly and looking through the peephole. 
satoru. of course.
he’s soaked to the bone—it’s raining outside, and of course, just as on brand as always, he must’ve rushed here without an umbrella.
you shouldn’t open it.
but you can’t just leave him in the rain, can you? but he’s not your problem anymore, you agreed to leave him, didn’t you? but how could he not be your problem when he’s all you think about? but this could cause him trouble if his father found out he was here, right? but can you really leave someone, ex-boyfriend or not, in the pouring rain? you can’t be that cruel can you?
before you can make up your mind, he speaks up, “i know you’re standing there. open the door,” he demands. 
“satoru, go home,” you sigh, head pressing against the surface that separates you, “don’t make this anymore difficult than it has to be.”
“if it’s difficult, that means you don’t really want to do this,” he argues. he’s still as good as ever at sweet talk, still as persistent and charming as ever at getting what he wants. “please,” he croaks, “just let me in.”
you know it means more than one thing. you know it means more than just your home. but you shouldn’t, you can’t let him know why you did all this—how can you protect someone from something if they don’t let you? satoru would never let you if he knew, and that’s why you can’t let him know. 
“satoru, if you don’t leave…i’ll…i’ll call the cops,” you warn. 
“no you won’t,” he says instantly. “i’m not leaving until you open the door. and if i get sick, i’ll send you my bill for the emergency room visit.”
“you’re not going to the emergency room for a common cold, you idiot,” you scoff. 
the rain doesn’t slow—in fact, you can hear thunder. satoru is still stubbornly outside, knocking away. 
“i’ll start screaming,” he insists, “your neighbors will complain for noise again. do you want to be kicked out of this apartment? just let your cold, wet, heartbroken ex-boyfriend in if you have a heart.”
and because you are, and always will be, weak to the charms of gojo satoru, you open that damned door—even though you shouldn’t, even though you can’t, even though you said you would never again. but you do. because it’s satoru, and he always comes when you call, and you’ll always let him in when he’s here. 
“you don’t come to your ex’s house less than one week after the break up,” you sigh once you open the door. he takes a step in, shutting the door behind him. 
“why did you leave me?” he asks. 
“satoru, you can’t keep bringing this up—”
“why? just tell me why.”
“i don’t have to—”
“tell me why and i’ll stop bothering you. i just need to know why,” he insists. 
and then you break.
you’re only human. you’ve lost the man you’ve given everything to for over a year in the span of one week. you’ll never see his lovely mother again who spoiled you rotten, you’ll never hang out out with his funny best friend who treats you like family, and you’ll never be enough for gojo satoru, the rich, loud, sheltered, obnoxious, handsome jackass you met and had to do a project with and accidentally fucked over and over again until you fell in love. 
so you shove his chest, once, then twice, then a third time, each time getting weaker and weaker than the last as tears slip down your cheeks as you simply break down. “just leave, satoru,” you sob, “why can’t you just leave? why do you keep coming back?”
you hate seeing him here. you want him gone. you never want to see him again. you hope he never leaves. you’re glad to see him. you hope this isn’t the last time. you hate that he seems to not be getting enough sleep. his eyes are hollow. he must not be eating properly. he probably hasn’t attended class. he has a quiz next week. he most likely forgot about that. his clothes are wrinkly. he definitely hasn’t showered in days. 
“last month you said i was it for you,” he glares at you, his eyes red and swollen and every shade of heartbreak. you miss when they were blue—that beautiful, bright, perfect shade of blue. “last week you said we were a mistake. what the fuck do you mean, huh? what are you playing at?”
“you can realize a lot in a month—”
“not enough to erase over a year,” his voice booms. it makes you flinch and hug yourself tightly. tears slide down your cheeks, your vision is blurry. this might be the last time you see satoru, and even if he’s angry, you want to remember the curves of his features. so you wipe them away. they keep coming back. “so tell me,” he clenches his jaw, “did you string me along for a year or did something happen last week that you’re not telling me?”
“i realized you were bad for me,” you say quietly. 
satoru stares at you. it’s a piercing gaze—his eyes are electrically blue and his lashes are unfairly long and every time he stares at you, you think he almost sees into your soul. they’re tired—there are purplish bags under them on that pale skin of his, and the whites of his eyes are concerningly bloodshot. he stares, and stares, and for a second, you think you’ll die like this. watching him stare at you as your heart bleeds out. 
“i spent weeks,” his voice shakes, “i waited outside your class. i followed you to the next one. i memorized your fucking schedule.”
“satoru, you need to leave—”
“and then you fucked me and left every morning like i was nothing,” he glares, sniffling. you don’t know where the rain drops on his face start and where the teardrops end. “and then i begged you for a chance—begged. i burned my hand, got laughed at by the maids to learn how to make those stupid fucking pancakes for you.”
“i didn’t ask you to—”
“it took you two months to call me baby for the first time. did you know that? i waited two months to hear that. i thought it was the best two months i ever waited.”
“satoru,” you plead. 
you’ve given up on trying to wipe away the tears—he’s given up on crying altogether. you’ve never seen him so hollow, so dead in the eyes and so, so tired.
satoru has never gotten tired—not when he’s fighting for you.
“and then you kept pushing me away, acting like i was some shallow guy who wanted to get in your pants and leave cause i had some money to my name. i took you everywhere, introduced you proudly, let everyone say what they wanted to say about me because i loved you, and…and i thought you loved me too,” he shakes his head. 
his voice breaks, and god, so does your heart right along with it.
“i do love you,” you admit it before you realize what you’re saying. 
“then why did you fucking leave me?” his voice is loud.
satoru never yells, not at you. his voice is always gentle, patient, like he worships the ground you walk on, like he’ll get on his knees if you ask him too. satoru never yells—but he does tonight. 
“because i had to,” you sob, fingers digging into your temples as you shake. the words spill from your lips faster than the tears, like a swarm of angry bees, one following after the other. “or you’d lose everything. the trust funds, the inheritance, the company. i couldn’t let that happen to you—not for me,” you whisper. 
it feels like defeat—in the end, you couldn’t keep satoru, and you couldn’t leave him either. you couldn’t love him like you wanted, and you couldn’t let him go like you should have. what else is there left to fuck up? what more can you ruin in less than a week? the bees feel like maggots in your mouth, swarming a dead carcass.  
“so you left me because my old man threatened you with my trust funds?” he asks in disbelief. you think something in satoru dies at that—something in his shoulders falls and his eyes almost seem gray. 
satoru gets his blue eyes from his mother—they’re bright and kind and deeper than the ocean. but unlike the ocean, they’re not scary to fall into, to lose yourself in no matter how far you are from shore. his father’s eyes are gray—cold and blank and not laced with a single hint of emotion. 
you can’t help but think that blue suits satoru so much better than gray ever could. 
“it wasn’t just that,” you shake your head, “that’s not fair, satoru. what was i supposed to do? know you were about to lose everything and stay?”
“you could have talked to me before you decided for me,” he hisses, “what do you want me to say? thank you? thank you for breaking my heart? thank you for making me feel like a worthless piece of shit who wasted a year for someone who didn’t seem to care? thank you for walking out on me?”
“you know i’d have stayed if i could,” you argue, voice breaking.
“then why didn’t you? why the fuck didn’t you?”
“because i couldn’t!”
“you could!” he screams—you realize, for the first time in your life, you hate when satoru screams. he never screams. “all my life, that old man has been making decisions for me. satoru, wear this. satoru, go here. satoru, don’t do that. satoru, put that away. satoru, stay away from them. satoru, come with me. that’s all he’s ever fucking done—make every choice for me. and now…now you’re just like him,” he breathes, lips wobbling as he stares at you with hurt. 
it’s like that for a bit—you stare at him as he crumbles, and he stares at you like he doesn't know you anymore. you don’t know who leans in first, if it’s your hand or his face, but one second you’re feet apart, and the next second his face is cradled in your hands, thumbs swiping away at his tears. you catch them, one by one, waiting to wipe them away no matter how fast they come. because satoru always comes when you call, and you’ll always be there for him to find you. 
“i don’t want to leave,” you mumble, “i never do. you are it for me, i meant that, you know. who else will melt extra chocolate in my hot chocolate?”
“then don’t leave,” he begs, voice cracking, “i don’t want you to. i’ll handle that old geezer—my grandfather will knock some sense into him. fuck, suguru and i can even hide his body, it’s fine. just don’t leave, okay?”
you let out a watery chuckle, pinching his cheek as you shake your head. “i don’t know if i’m worth homicide, satoru.”
“i think you’re wrong,” he huffs, “you’re wrong about a lot of things, you know. so wrong.”
“i never said i was perfect,” you pout.
he buries his head into your neck, clinging to you tightly—you cling back, because nothing is as safe as satoru’s arms. you’d melt into his skin if you could, live in that spot right where his heart is so you can make sure it’s always beating. 
“you’re still perfect,” he mumbles, “but you’re always mean to me. this was the worst you’ve ever been.”
“i’m sorry,” you murmur, slipping your fingers into his hair—it’s still wet, you realize. he’s soaked, and he could catch a cold but you don’t care. satoru is back. he’s here in your run-down apartment with the mugs and the blanket and that toothbrush you forgot to return and that pair of socks you found in your drawer. satoru is finally home. “i’ll never leave you again.”
“promise?”
“yeah. as long as you don’t block me on twitter again.”
“you deserved that.”
“and for the love of god, toru, delete that marvin’s room story. that was so dumb.”
“are you stalking me?” he pulls away with a grin, making you glare with a huff. he chuckles, kisses your forehead as he murmurs, “missed me that bad, huh? yeah, i would too.”
“well, obviously not enough to post marvin’s room on my story.”
“you can’t be mean to me after you broke my heart!” he whines.
yeah, you think, satoru is home. he’s still that loud, obnoxious, pestering brat that he always was—and he’s still the only love you’ve ever known. 
“i love you,” you press your forehead to his, kissing him slowly. you want to kiss him harder, you want to kiss him desperately like you’ll never kiss him again. like you lost him and miraculously got him back. like you’ll never see the sun again without him. 
but there’s time for that—lots of it, in fact. because satoru is home.
“i love you too,” he whispers, “wanna shower with me? if you really love me, you would.”
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read the makeup sex sequel ;) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
if this fic was a person i would want it dead.
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deadsetobsessions · 5 months
Text
Danny Fenton is so damn sick of rich fruit loops. It’s worse now, since he’s one of them.
It’s not Vlad that he’s with, thank the Ancients, but Danny isn’t sure that this is better.
Because he’s Timothy Drake, a baby, and he’s been reincarnated after the Ancient of Reincarnation accidentally drank too much wine.
He’s going to kick their ass so hard when he gets back.
Danny huffs. He rolls over, ignoring the silent manor. Sure, he’s read the comics. Sure, he laughed and imagined being adopted by Batman- come on, Danny had black hair and blue eyes even back then, he was totally adoption bait- when his parents gave him reason to lose trust in their love. But that’s it, that’s all he thought it was. A day dream, a wish for a universe that didn’t exist.
Danny hadn’t understood the reality of the whole Infinite Realms thing, a place he was now the King of. Batman? Real. Danny? Reincarnated. Hotel? Trivago.
Like, this wasn’t what he meant, dammit.
And now he’s stuck as Timothy Drake, and Ancients, he was starting to see parallels.
——
Danny tried photography. He really did. He wanted to at least stick to the source material. But that’s not who he is. Even with the shiny new brain that memorized, catalogued, and put together clues at the snap of his fingers, but Danny’s never been one to take photos. It’s a respectable art, for sure, but Danny preferred to live in the moment instead of capturing it to remember forever. It’s just-
He watched the Graysons fall. He watched Dick Grayson turn into Robin. And Danny can’t and won’t ever betray his Obsession like that, ever again. He can’t let Jason die for his “story” to begin. That’s not how Danny works.
He’s there to protect.
Danny hasn’t ever been just Tim. Danny was also Tim and the Ghost King without a haunt. But now? Gotham is his haunt. He, in lieu of an actual city spirit, is Gotham. He’s also a Drake. And Drakes were meant to hoard.
Batman and Robin? They are his.
He claimed them, as a Drake. But that claim is weak. So he claimed them as their city, and that is a claim that will never be able to be challenged.
Danny’ll be damned before he allows some lanky starved clown beat the life out of one of his Robins. So, for the first time in his nine years on this planet, Tim-Danny goes ghost and flies.
“Who- who. Are you?” Robin slurred from his place in Danny’s hold. He is broken, yes. But not dead. Danny infuses some of his vitality, his ecto, into Jason’s injuries to help them heal.
“Gotham.” Danny replied, layering his ghostly voice with those of the city.
“Goth’m?”
“Gotham. Sleep, little bird. Your city has got you.”
When Robin, Jason, settled with a sense of trust that tugs at Danny’s core, Danny carried him to Batman, whose eyes were wild and manic. He glared menacingly at the green and white ghost in front of him, who was holding his broken and beaten son-
Well, it’d be menacing if Danny hadn’t watched him eat bricks and mortar, crashing into a building while using his grappling gun.
“You-”
“I am Gotham.” Danny cut him off. Despite his wary nature and natural paranoia, Batman settled at his city’s gaze rested on him. Danny knew that Batman recognized his city. Batman’s head bowed, but his eyes stayed on Robin. “You were supposed to take care of Robin.”
“I- I know.” And that voice was all Bruce Wayne the Dad instead of Batman the Vigilante. Danny gently placed Robin in Batman’s arms, taking in the tremors as he held his son close.
“Go back, Bruce. And make sure Jason knows how much you love him.”
He laughed as Bruce whipped his head upwards. “I am your city. You are mine as much as I am yours. I’ve known of you before you were born.”
Technically? Not untrue. But Bruce will chalk it up to weird magic shit. It’s not like it’s a secret that Gotham’s kind of curse. Besides, this way, Danny will be able to help out more often. And Bruce won’t be able to connect Tim Drake to the “Spirit of Gotham.”
“Return, my knight. This is not your city. I can not protect you as well as I can in Gotham.”
“Thank you… Gotham.”
Danny sighed. He wondered when he’ll have to field questions from a John Constantine. He’s pretty sure Bruce will call in magical help, even if it was his own city he was investigating.
Batman’s lucky Danny liked him enough to allow it.
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lanabuckybarnes · 2 months
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Sergeant’s Got You
18+ Minors DNI
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You’re stressed, he knows exactly how to make you feel better.
Note: I was asked for something like this, so it’s heavy on the love for his dog tags
Pairing: beefy Bucky (but he’s got that fatws attitude) x reader
Warnings: Dom Bucky, basically smutty right from the get go, filthy buck, he has his metal arm (I’m a slut for it), you like Bucky’s dog tags, like really like them, Petnames: sweetness, sweetheart, sweet thing, sweetie, good girl, baby, a LOT of dirty talk, sergeant kink, sir kink, oral (M receiving), unprotected p in v sex, he’s rough, degradation, feral Bucky, squirting, creampie, aftercare.
Word Count: 3.2k *insert cat HUH sound*
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You were stressed beyond belief. Your mission ended up having a few more loose ends than anyone was anticipating leaving you to pick up the pieces. Now you were finally back in New York and ready to punch the next person who pats your back sympathetically with a ‘you tried’ look on their face.
Just as you were contemplating boxing the cupboard in the kitchen than wouldn’t stay open two strong arms pulled you back and into a hard body.
“You alright sweetness?” Bucky spoke into the locks of hair at the back of your ear. His cologne had you relaxing already, the fingers on his right hand hitched up your shirt to rub soothing circles over your hip bone. What really got you was the subtle grind of his hips against your ass; he was a filthy shit, you loved it when he knew what you wanted.
You flipped your body around in his arms, your fingers running up from his abs to his soft chest until they wrapped around his neck. He smirked, he knew exactly what you wanted him to do but he was a tease, you had to tell him or he wouldn’t. It’s just the way the world worked for you sweetheart.
You surged forward, desperate for a taste of the cherry lips you missed so much. You hated to admit just how much the man in front of you affected you, how often on your mission your hand snaked down your body and in-between your legs at the photos Sam sent of your lost puppy husband, his wide back and tiny waist wrapped in that blue Henley that had the arms pulled up to his forearm revealing the long veins and thick structure underneath. You needed him, now.
He pulled back just as your lips brushed his, a dark smirk and a filthy blue colour surfacing in his orbs. Fucking tease.
“You know you gotta use your words sweetheart” One of his big hands, his metal one, landed on the back of your skull, the metal thumb dancing over your bottom lip before you sucked it into your wet mouth. He growled at the innocent look you gave him as your tongue flicked over the tip before poking out and running up the underside of the shiny plates.
He pushed down, holding your tongue in place as it travelled, drool dripping from the muscle but he didn’t care, the sight of the rivulets of saliva sliding down the silver had him harder than a rock. One of the most technologically advanced pieces of handiwork and you were sucking on it like a little slut, pathetic.
He had you in his room before you could even blink, the rough slamming of the door vibrating the wall he pushed you up against.
“You’re a little slut ain’t you? Sucking on my thumb like my cock, getting your drool everywhere, you’re so lucky I don’t make you clean it up” he spoke as he hastily pulled your shirt and his off, his dog tags jangling softly as they fell back into place between his huge chest. You moved like a magpie, gripping at the shiny metal tags, giving them a squeeze, his name imprinting for a second of the fat of your palm before letting them slip between your fingers.
He watched you, ever fascinated at just how worked up you got about him, but it was your love for his dog tags that had him curious. You always, without fail slipped a finger around them, whether it was when you pulled him close for a kiss or if your slept on his chest, one of your fingers slipped itself through the chain and held them close to your hand.
He wasn’t stupid though, he could practically smell when you soaked yourself, always conveniently after his swinging tags made contact with your chin or ran up the column in your spine, the way that little pussy tightened around him when the old metal swept over your lips, tapping your teeth as you moaned out in pleasure. It made him embarrassingly weak too.
“You want me to fuck you cute girl?” He groaned into the crook of your neck, his plush lips suckling obscene dark marks downward till he reached the crevice of your breasts, your legs wrapped around him tighter as his hand grazed over your sensitive sides to the meat of your tit, gripping it softly and flicking a warm thumb over your nipple. You jerked into him at the shock of pleasure, your hand carding through his waves of hair and pulling him close as worked on the underside of your other boob.
“Words Sweetheart, I need words” He knew it wouldn’t be long till you hit that sub space, the same thing always happened when you were stressed, you needed your big Sergeant to take the wheel, use you a little bit.
“Please” fuck the whimper in your voice had him grinding up into you, the scratchy fabric of his jeans meeting the barely their material of the shorts you wore under your gear.
“Please what sweet thing?” he moved to watch the deep colour of your eyes swim with lust, eradicating any stress they once held, he was doing his job.
“Please use me Sir” you whined, fingers wrapping around the chain of his dog tags again to pull him close, finally getting that kiss you so desperately needed. His left hand cupped your cheek, rubbing a thumb over the high point softly, a sharp contrast to the bruising kiss you had going on. Teeth clashed with teeth, soft whimpers falling from your lips as he pushed closer, flicking his tongue viciously with your much weaker one, running against the top of it and sucking once it gave up it’s fight. He pulled you in again, tender with his lips this time, enclosing your swollen ones with his, his tongue running over your upper lip soothingly.
“Fuck! You’re making me go crazy” he chuckled as he moved off the wall, backing himself up to the bed till his calves hit the frame. He sat down with both of you, your body straddling him, his right hand pushing you back and forth softly on his bulge. The lust in his eyes mixed with a softness as he looked up at you, his metal hand still on your face although now his shiny forefinger and thumb hooked onto your chin, pulling you forward for a kiss, and another, and another. You whined, you didn’t want kisses and grinding, you wanted him to blow your back out, use your pretty face, anything but this.
Seeming to sense your thoughts he stopped your movements, the right hand coming up to join his left on either side of your face.
“What do you want sweetheart? You want your soldier to ruin you? I can feel how hot you are on my dick… you want it bad don’t you?” You moaned at his words, dripping filthily from his tongue, he sure had a way to fuck you up without even pulling out his cock.
“Yes, yes please. Use me” he smirked, satisfied at your whimpered begging. With a click of his tongue and a flick of his eyes he had you manoeuvring onto your knees in front of him.
He was a sight, he looked carved from marble, each bend of his body, every nook and muscle and vein delicately etched into rock solid stone to be preserved for a lifetime. His bulge strained painfully against his jeans, angrily awaiting your slender fingers offering it reprise from its tight cell. You were glad to give it just that.
Clumsily, you fiddled with the thick belt around his waist, smiling in satisfaction when the rhythmic clanks finally hit your ears. You flicked the button open and were about to pull the zip of his fly when his hand stopped you.
“With your mouth sweetness” his lip caught between his teeth, a soft blush decorated his face and chest as he watched you. Your tongue ran up the metal, the slight tang hitting your tastebuds, you flicked the little tab until sat snug between your teeth and pulled it down slowly, each tooth of the zip clicking as it finally opened.
Once you were done, Bucky pushed the thick material down his legs with a relieved sigh, letting it pool at his ankles before flicking them off with your help. His hard-on raged against the soft grey briefs, a pool of darkness lay at the head, precum soaking through.
His hands met yours, pulling them up his thighs and hooking them around the waistband of his briefs. He smiles down at you, eyes crinkling and neck craned as he watched you both inch down his underwear until it caught on his tip, he hissed as the scratchy fabric pulled over his silky head before it slapped deliciously onto his public bone and stomach.
“God” he chuckled breathlessly at the feeling of finally being free “look at you drooling all over yourself for me, you want a taste sweet thing?” His metal fingers had wrapped themselves around the fat base of his length, pushing it forward till the spongy tip hooked onto your upper lip, his salty precum smearing over it like a x-rated lip balm.
You pecked the tip of his dick, the tip of your tongue barely poking him as you did. You moved down, lips brushing against every angry vein on his cock until you met the metal of his hand in which you slowly licked a thick strip back up until you swirled your wet muscle against his head relentlessly.
“Fuck sweetheart, good girl” he groaned, head lulling back as his hips jittered off the bed softly, pushing his head into your awaiting mouth. You sucked him in greedily, selfishly inhaling his thick musky scent that had your pussy drooling against your lace panties, threatening to spill into your shorts— you didn’t doubt that if he had you naked, your essence would drip all over the wood of the floor— he’d have a field day making you clean it up.
“God you’re so good, ha— making your soldier feel so good, you like your sergeant all needy? Ready to pull you up off that floor and sink my cock into you” You moaned against his length, gagging softly when he jerked up into the back of your throat.
“Shit, Nuh uh get up here, I wanna cum in that pretty pussy, move come on” He pulled you up and off his length like you weighed nothing at all, his fingers ripping the shorts from your body and only stopping when he caught a glimpse of you’re soaked panties.
“Fuck girl, who’s got you like this hmm?” His thick thumb brushed small circles over your neglected clit. You moaned loudly, jerking off the bed with a shudder at the feeling, more of your slick pooling into your already soaked gusset.
“Mmm I can fucking smell you, smell so good baby… bet I could fuck you without prep, you want that?” He spoke, his voice deep, laced with primal lust— nothing like the composed grumpy old man everyone else saw— no, he was raw, unhinged, pupils blown wide with sexual desire. You wanted nothing more than his cock in you.
“Please Buck, just your cock I don’t care just please” you cried when he pushed particularly hard on your aching nub, your knuckles turning white as you fisted then covers beneath you; your legs shook as they threatened to close on his thick forearm, you were close already but you didn’t want to cum without him filling you out.
He gleamed at your form, fucked out, soaked and crying already— he’d barely fucking touched you— he couldn’t wait to see your face as he fucked you raw.
He ripped your panties with renewed vigour, the ruined material pulled away from your sensitive heat to hang around the your ankle that now sat over Bucky’s muscular shoulder. Your thigh quaked softly at the stretch but his cold digits ran softly against the tight muscle, soothing it for the time being.
His fat head tapped against your clit, each wet slap causing your body to twitch off the bed at the electric jolts of pleasure it sent up your spine. You could feel Bucky’s fingers circling your entrance, two of his thick fingers squishing into your tight hole as he prepped you lightly. When they left, a long line of arousal followed, connecting him to you, he growled at the sight before licking the wetness from his rough palm and middle finger.
“Mmm so sweet, if I wasn’t so fucking horny I’d make you cum all over my face… make you soak my mouth, shit” he was talking more to himself than you but you clenched around nothing at the thought, the thought of him eating you out for hours was not impossible, he’d done it before.
His thick tip drooling against your entrance pulled you from your trance, he pushed softly, hooking his head along the tight rim of your pussy as he stared up at you.
“you ready sweet thing?” He leaned over, right hand resting against the side of your head, his thumb flicking stray tears from your cheeks. You nodded softly, eyes unmoving from him, watching as his lips twitched in pleasure as his head popped into you, each inch dragging in slowly, aided by your soaked folds.
You moaned pathetically, his head running over your g-spot had you clenching around him, your orgasm hitting you quickly, your hands tightening painfully against the sheets as white hot pleasure soaked through your nerves. Everything was tingling, flashes of colour dancing over your closed eyelids.
Bucky wasn’t much better as he watched you, having to will his own orgasm down at the sight of you losing yourself over him already. You were a fucking sight to him, your tits bouncing with each sharp breath you took, mouth hung open allowing each whimper or silent scream to escape unabashedly.
“Ohh good girl, that’s it mmmm shit you’re fucking clenching me tight baby” Bucky mumbled, words falling from his lips in verbal mush, his own mind barely keeping up. When you finally came down from your high you open your eyes to look up at him, a shy little smile playing on your lips at the way he bore down at you.
“I’m so-“ you began but he pushed forward, sucking up your moan at the feeling of him hitting your cervix into his mouth.
“Don’t you dare be fucking sorry for that sweetheart, you hear? Fucking almost made me cum like a fucking teenager again, naughty girl ain’t you? I fucking love you” His hot breath panted against your lips as he growled at you, the last thing he wanted was for you to feel ashamed about the pleasure you were feeling. You blushed deeply, it was quite funny just how much his love for you made you blush, even when he was currently pushing against the deepest parts of you.
“Can I move baby?” He asked against your lips, smiling satisfyingly as you nodded before planting a wet kiss on your lips and pushing himself up.
He started slow, letting each vein pull against every nerve in your heat, his teeth clenching at just how tight you’d squeeze every time his head brushed against your sweet bundle of pleasure. His smooth pace never lasted long though, his hips jerked violently against you once he deemed you ready enough, your body slipping up across the sheets at each slam of his hips against your thighs.
He was leaning over you now, your leg pushed up between both your bodies, his dog tags clanging above your face at each jerk of his body. You reached a hand up, encircling the darkened metal, pulling on it as your body twitched with hints of a second orgasm.
“Shit! You like when my fucking tags hang over your face, fucking little slut aren’t you? You like being fucked like this? your sergeant fucking all that stress away? Mmm god, maybe I’ll put them around your neck next time hmm? Have you wear them when you’re riding me, let them fucking swing between those tits— god you’d love that” Bucky rambled, on and on, thrusts becoming sloppy as you clenched around him for the umpteenth time, only this time your orgasm slammed into you like a freight train, you could feel yourself soaking Bucky’s dick and thighs— probably soaking the already destroyed sheets below you.
With one final thrust Bucky’s moan caught in this throat as he pushed himself the deepest he could go, hot cum soaking your cervix and pushing out against his length to run along your folds, mixing with your juices. His legs give out forcing himself against you even more, pulling a pained whine from you at the feeling. As your orgasms settled, your breathing slightly less laboured although still heavy, you pulled him close by his tags, kissing his blissed out face right on the lips.
“You were so good for me sweet thing, so fucking good” he praised, his metal hand running through your tangled hair, soothing your heated scalp.
He leaned back up with a groan, massaging your aching leg as he pulled it from his shoulder before slipping out of your pussy. You both moaned at the loss, your heat clenching against nothing as his cum slipped from your body in waves. He couldn’t tear his eyes from your heat, tongue poking out to wet his lips as he watched intently. You giggled shyly at his intense expression, your aching legs closing softly in embarrassment much to Bucky’s dismay.
“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up” he smiled, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you to the bathroom. You snuck a glimpse of the sheets as he carried you, the whole area soaked in a mixture of you both.
“Oh my god” you whispered in disbelief against his head.
“What?” He replied as he set you down and began running a bath.
“The sheets are ruined, I can’t believe I did that” you eyed his naked frame from behind, his wide back flushed red but still absolutely stunning, each muscle rippling as he moved methodically, his small waist directing you to his thick globes. It was then Bucky turned to look at you, catching you ogling at his ass, he laughed when you turned quickly.
“It makes me proud when I look at those sheets, I mean who else can make you squirt like that? Fucking no one” he growled the last part against your lips giving you a quick smooch before turning the water off and lifting you both into the hot bubbled water.
His hands massaged your shoulders, working out the knots from your activities as well as any left over stress from your mission, not that there was any after he fucked it out of you.
You two sat in silence, save for the occasional sigh you let out when he hit the right spot, both savouring each other’s presence, reminiscing on the way you exhausted each other. You laugh when you remember his words.
“What? what’s got you all giggly?” he asked, nipping the skin on the nape of your neck.
“Nothing… just… were you being serious?”
“About what sweetheart?” He eyes you curiously.
“About letting me wear your dog tags” you suppress a smirk as you feel him twitch against your back, obviously your words sparking something in him.
“We’ll discuss it later” he rasped causing you to laugh out loud.
Your week had been stressful, with never ending problems and constant nagging from the higher ups to do the job but when you were in Bucky’s embrace, when you had those dog tags between your fingers or dangling over your face, everything melted away into nothingness, leaving you and Bucky alone.
-
So I lied mwahahahaha, I was going to post it yesterday but I love alcohol so I was drunk but here we are.
I’m a little nervous to post this one idk why.
I hope you enjoyed x
(I do not own any of the photos, credits to original owners)
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