#<-tag for when i make posts n not rb
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roanoaks · 1 month ago
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Moots.. do u.. have songs about cannibalism? Ive looked up "songs about cannibalism" and i find many reddit lists but none quite fit what im after? Idk a lot seem jokey or like, are more about sex and cunnilingus then like. Genyine cannibalism. I just want a song about eating someone where its clear They Are Eating Them.
People Eater + Misery Meat come to mind but if I could I'd like a different genre thats more grrr grrr and hehe. Is this making sense? Does this exist? I have like. Butchers Vanity too but I dunno its not fitting the brain vibe i need
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monsterbisexual · 5 months ago
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the silt verses: chapter 34
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chapter 38
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akascow · 1 month ago
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man i forgot ppl still repost (steal) art on here🧍🏻‍♀️like in the year 2024 ?? have u no shame🤨🤨 not even a dinky little 'not mine' or 'credit to ___' in the tags ?? ew. some icky behavior right there hmmm
just saw one of the artpost i JUST rb'd from the original creator. and was like oh is it the same post im seeing again (no) is it an early draft (no) is it the artist's sideblog or smth (no) ??? they cut off the watermark too which is like okay so u know what ur doing then :/ what an asshole lmfao
like… the reblog button IS RIGHT THERE... UR ALREADY LOOKING AT THEIR OG POST!!! genuinely how is ur time better spent screenshotting, cropping and reposting art to ur blog for only a fraction of the likes the og will get lmao.
then the audacity to say shit like 'this is so cool' or whatever n then not tag the original or cut off the watermark lmao... if u like it so much maybe support the artist ??? or is that too much to ask for lol ur shitty
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krockat · 1 year ago
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(sees my own post on my dash) eeeeey 😎
heyy bud what canni say. you got good stuff in that brain and also big heart a' yours.
good for me that i snagged mutualship w u b4 u grew bigger huh?
n hey - always glad to give ye that sunglasses smirk coded confidence
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ravengards-rogue · 10 months ago
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WHAT SET YOU FREE, BROUGHT YOU TO ME BABY.
rdr2 men + short blurbs about their favorite sex positions.
ft. arthur morgan, john marston, javier escuella, and charles smith.
✧ tags : SPOILER HEAVY, fem + afab!reader, unprotected sex, light angst (in the horny post is crazy im sorry fdkjjkds), very gendered language, javier says one thing in spanish (thank u @nanamimizz), a little sprinkle of plot with each (and some canon divergency), john co-parents w abigail, otherwise just horny. 18+
✧ wc : about 1.4-8k each (6.3k total)
✧ a/n : sorry for making a multi character post for the cowboy game its cooking me to death. my john bias is showing rip. title is from rebel yell by billy idol but i listen to the bvb cover
sorry about charles and javiers but if i edit this anymore im going to level an entire city using hollow purple technique. please rb if you enjoyed i worked kind of hard on whatever this is.
sorry for . the THIRD repost of this i promise i wont after this. its just really bugging me. PLEASE
.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚。⋆ ARTHUR MORGAN + PRONE BONE ; 
It’s an odd feelin’ for Arthur. 
Wanting something, he means. Wanting anything as much as he wants you. He’s lived a less than quiet life up until now. And he ain’t the brightest, certainly, but living this kind of life teaches you many lessons. One of them being, it’s better not to covet anything. Coveting something you’re not entitled to, well—it’ll lead you places you wouldn’t want to go with a gun. 
Arthur has made the mistake of coveting love before, dreamed of a future so completely out of his reach he almost convinced himself it was possible. Dreamed of it so foolishly he’d even go visit a woman he very well ought to forget. It’s his problem, his burden to bear - always desiring outcomes unsuited to him. 
He’s just that sort of man he reckons. But he learned his lesson. He tries (tried?) to stay away from it after that. Tried not to pine too much for normalcy when such hopes had failed him twice. The loss of his child completely on his account and the loss of his love at the same fate. 
So, wanting you - well, he feels like the world's dullest fool. Really. How is it that Arthur had fallen in love with someone again? It had all just happened so quickly. You were another woman he’d saved from the O’Driscolls, though it wasn’t like you were no damsel. A lot of those men were dead by the time they arrived. That sort of perseverance would stick with you while you traveled together. Much like Sadie, you didn’t take well to housework - you liked to earn your keep. Though you’re not nearly so trigger happy. 
You’re quiet, thoughtful, well-read. Plus you’re good at making money. That’s why Dutch don't complain about you joining them, he figures. 
(Arthur tries not to pry into it too much at first, but he eventually learns that you’re gambling. Which is how you’re able to make such a fast turn around. A prim little lady like you makes for a fine poker player, and you love to play men out of their money. He thinks it’s one of the funniest and most interesting things about you. He can’t help but love you a little more for it. )
When the feelings in him start to stir, Arthur tries to overlook it. Arthur convinces himself, time and time again - that there’s no way he’ll grow more tender about you. Eventually, it’ll die down. You’re a decent woman is all, a kind one - who’s easy for him to love and even easier for him to confide in. In your time together, you often come to Arthur and you always seem to have some profound wisdom he is so sorely lacking. Someone easy to love, who does not expect much from Arthur at all. It’s only natural a lonely, covetous man like him would start to dream about you. He tells himself, it will pass eventually. Should he simply let it run by him, it will pass. But Arthurs a fool, you’ll remember. 
 Of course, by the time he understood all that - he already loved you enough that he couldn’t bear it. It was already too late and it wasn’t going to change any time soon. Especially not while everything changed around him. 
So, Arthur is undoubtedly a fool, but he’s lucky. He felt divinely blessed when you’d returned his feelings for him so politely. A coy little smile on your face, a laugh like you thought he was silly for being doubtful. Arthur tried to explain himself but you wouldn’t hear a word of it. Maybe that’s another thing he loves so much about you. There’s nothing he ever needs to explain. 
In any case, all Arthur seems to do lately is want you. Wants you when it’s inconvenient. Wants you before he wants liquor or a cigarette or some other vice. Any time anything goes wrong, you’re the first thing his mind can conjure up for relief. That pretty smile and that self-assured way of living. It’s hard to get time alone in camp. And Arthur is a man in love, so any touch could be enough to set him on fire. Last week you hugged his waist a little before giving him a kiss goodbye and he had to listen to you laugh yourself into a fit as he waited for…little Arthur to settle down. 
He don’t get many chances to be with you. Lay with you in that way that grown folk in love do. Though, if the two of you book it somewhere for a few days - the camp knows better not to ask where you’ve been. But it’s not often you get to really be together, where it’s peaceful to do that. Someone’s always hounding one of you to do something. 
Arthur is a lucky man though, like he said. Today he had time. Today he’s alone with you in a beat up little saloon and today he gets to do as he likes. He gets to be greedy. And it’s an odd feeling for him, really, to want something so bad he disregards everything else in the world for a little while. 
Feeling you, though - absolves the guilt for wanting. He’d be stupid to want you any less desperately. 
Arthur’s favorite way to have you is on your stomach. Laid flat, just barely pushed up against him as he fucks you deep. You’ll fuck like rabbits for a little while and Arthur will wear you out just like this, maneuvering you until you’re pinned all underneath his weight. You lose any fight you might have, too exhausted to worry yourself with pleasing him - and when you’re like that, you let Arthur take care of you. 
(He really ain’t talented at much, but he’s good with his hands. Being dexterous is part of being a talented shot. When Arthur has the time to spread you sweet in his lap and make you cum all over his fingers, he does so for as long as he can. At least until you beg him so sweetly otherwise. The same hands, soiled with gunsmoke, look so good so deep in you. At least in his eyes.)
Wet and pliable and helpless. Arthur loves you like that. He knows, he knows you’re anything but - but he’d be damned to pretend this don’t feel best. Tight, wet cunt so welcoming from all the pleasure he’s ripped out of you. Your bodies pressed together, your heartbeat pulsing through your skin. All sticky, honeyed need and animal desire as Arthur lets all of him sink on top of you. His heavy, lumbering form crushing you in - trapping you somewhere you can’t run from him. The curve of your spine pushed against his chest, ticklish. 
Every inch of his body that so wholly wants for you, Arthur aches to make you feel. Burn it in you lest anything happens that risks your forgetting. 
He can feel his hips meet your ass, backside squished against him - desperate for deeper friction. Whining. You’re whining to him so pretty, a pillow pushed underneath you to give friction to needy clit. 
Arthur can feel how much you want more. Maybe Arthur is greedy, but he likes that look much better on you. Your pussy is sucking him in so tight, silken walls pulsing with every shallow little measured thrust. Arthur lets his arm wrap around your neck, your face pressing into his bicep. You moan again and he laughs. 
“Arthur,” Your words come out in a messy slur. He lets his scruffy face press against your neck, a kiss behind your ear. He wants to kiss you all over. There’s not enough hours in the day. “Oh, god, Arthur,” 
“Still feels good, then, I’m guessin’,” 
“Shut up,” You huff and press your cheek into his arm. He doesn’t bother stifling his laugh. “Still feels…big. Stretchin’ me out—hicc—so much,” 
You really don’t try to rile him up - but you do a damn good job of it anyway. He groans, grunts as he pulls back and pistons himself in you. A gesture half-way between a kiss and the warning shot of a gun. The sound of skin hitting skin echoes, noisy and vulgar. Arthur don’t pay it much mind. He laughs against your shoulder.
“One of these days, that moutha’ yours is gonna get me in real trouble.” 
You giggle back at him 
“What kinda trouble is that now?” 
Even from your side glance, you’ve got that lovely little smile on you. Fuckdrunk and ingratiating, like you know he’s wrapped so tight around your fingers. And he is, like nothing else in the world could have him. A wave of possession curls up over Arthur, makes him press more of himself into you. Onto you. Another deep push of his cock, sliding against the tenderest parts of you. Staking some silent desire in you. He wants and wants and wants, and hopes that whatevers above him can forgive him for making the same mistake thrice. 
“Dunno,” Arthur comments, teeth grazing your shoulder and kissing the indentations “Got our whole lives together to find out, I reckon.” 
“I’ll hold you to it, Mister.” 
Arthur laughs. “Hope you do, Miss.” 
.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚。⋆ JOHN MARSTON + COWGIRL ;
John doesn’t say that he loves you lightly. 
Hardly a thing he says can be said that way. Could never afford too. In an alternate universe where nothing goes wrong in his life, maybe - but he has a hard time picturing what the hell that’d look like. A version of himself so untainted, without all of the violence and blood and gunsmoke? Foreign. John can’t picture it worth a damn. 
Who John is without a deadbeat father and a dead Ma is somewhere far beyond his reach. Ain’t nothing about his life, at any point, lighthearted. 
On top of all that mess, he’s got a boy at age four with a woman he ain’t married too. And that relationship is always on rocky waters, even though John’s decided to do right by his own flesh and blood sometime ago. Most things in the world he should feel good about he doesn’t, and most things he should understand render him clueless. He’s a mess on multiple accounts, and he still doesn’t know how exactly he’s meant to approach this life of his. He knows what he should do, but nothing about how to do it. 
John doesn’t come to love you easily ‘cause he wouldn’t know easy love if it hit him in his face. Quickly and painfully, but not easily. 
Your return to the gang was an odd one. You were an old presence and your disappearance was an even older story. John thought he’d never gonna see you again for sure. You’d been a part of the gang back long before all of the nonsense that took place in Blackwater and you left about the time Arthur’s boy died. John don’t remember why you left exactly. He thinks it was a fight with Hosea, of all things.
 Dutch weren't too happy about it neither, but Dutch back then didn’t make a show. 
So you left, and John buried every feeling he ever harbored. You found all them again up in Colter, where you’d been living out your days lately. According to you, in the middle of riding, you thought you’d heard Arthur. So, somewhat recklessly, you went chasing him. Didn’t matter if he was just something your mind conjured. According to you, if it was him, it was at least worth checking to make sure. You’d reunited with Arthur and after some tears, he rode with you back to camp. 
Upon your return, the gang welcomed you with open arms. 
You’d done a lot in your time alone.You spent most of that time just like that, a ghost wanderin’ the planes. You weren’t gonna stay with ‘em, but Arthur insisted and Hosea did too. That wasn’t enough to compel, so John was last to chip in. You should stay, at least until Valentine. 
(Silently he thought, you should stay so John can trace memories of you. It was so long ago, he should’ve forgotten all of it. You were a year older than John and always on his ass but easy for him to talk to. Didn’t fuss over his failures. You just barely grew into your womanhood when you set your sights on running away. You wanted more than this life, and John never really forgave you for it. His first heartbreak, maybe - but it’s all too blurry for that. 
You understood him though better than anyone, and one day you were gone. Nothing’s really the same.) 
You changed tremendously and not at all. He missed you. God, did he ever. Missed you a long time. Didn’t realize how much until you came back and everything in him felt right again. Your return stirred up old feelings and everyone noticed. He wasn’t trying to keep it a secret, but he really wasn’t trying to fall back into anything with you. Not how he did. 
Just like you did back then, you read John like an open book. And just like he did back then, he loved you all too helplessly for it.  It was just all too easy again, to be with you. 
You stayed out of the way at first, for the sake of his family. 
But, John ain’t a half-decent man even when he’s trying to be. So he set himself on being with you. It wasn’t easy - most things with him aren’t as you’ll see.  Having you around again straightened what was left of his common sense, at least. He told Abigail before telling you. He figured you wouldn’t even reply unless that was all out of the way. That turned out as well as you’d expect.
 It was settled between the two of you thereafter. He’s lucky she didn’t toss him into the street. 
Everything works out in a way. As best they can between broken people. You make peace with each other. His boy loves you like a third parent (you’re better with him than John is). Abigail commends you for straightening out such a worthless man though she’s a little melancholy.  John just tries to stay out of the way. You’ll be together in the end. There’s a plan with the five of you. 
But until it all falls apart, he doesn’t get all that much time with you. 
There’s moments like tonight, though. Rare ones. Together out robbin’, cooped out some place in the woods where no one is around. A place so shaded by nightfall that John can absolve himself of every sin he’s ever committed in his life and pray at the altar between your hips. John is convinced he might find worship like he’s always hearing about there whenever he touches you, the marred skin of his hands and knuckles reading the scripture of your body with careful precision. 
You might turn him into a literate man yet. 
John glances up at you. Only the light of the fire and the moonlight there to accompany as he watches you over him. You’re beautiful. John couldn’t picture a single thing more perfect in his life. 
Your hands against his bare chest, nails digging into the flesh as you lean forward. Your palm dug into the dirt, John finds his own hands rested at your hips. John looks at you awe-struck, cock twitching at the mere sight. His heart settles in his throat, but he’s calm all at the same time. With you, he forgets. All of it. The worst of himself. 
Bare naked and so close, he watches your face as you strain. You feel soft. Every inch of you in comparison to him is. A bead of sweat slides down the valley of your breasts. John cranes his neck up to catch it with his tongue, licking a stripe up to your neck - letting his teeth sink into the space between your jaw and neck. You want to make it last and John doesn’t blame you. It’s so rare you get to have each other so unrestrained. John can feel all the ways you want him, can see it in your face - all pinched with need. You’re holding yourself back, trying to get it to last as long as the night will allow. It’s cute in a way.
It’s different than how he’s used to seein’ you, all cocky or otherwise. You’re needy like this. Just needy. His stomach turns with lust, jolting through him like a strike of lightning. His cock twitches against your folds, sliding against them. Pure admiration watching the sticky mess of his pre-cum and your own arousal mix together and smear on your mound. You make a soft noise in the back of your throat, faint and tender as you fall forward just a little. John laughs against your neck. 
“Darlin’,” He says with a huff. Not malice. Something akin to bliss, where he can rarely afford it “Have I done something to piss you off today?” 
You pick yourself up and look down at him and frown. John kisses the corner of your mouth, resisting some crude desire to fuck up into you. 
“Just,” You grunt as the tip of his cock passes over your throbbing clit, your whole body wracking to a shiver. John looks awed. “Pent up. Goddamn it,” 
John figures it out quickly after that. It’s this part of it he likes. The proximity. The closeness. Feeling the tremble in your hands as they struggle to keep up right, muscles strained in your forearms. Being able to hold you, to keep the pace or let you take the lead. The clear view of your face as pleasure travels up through your spine and melts into you. He grabs your hips, the fat dimpling underneath his fingers as he moves you along. He can’t wait. You don’t bother to protest seeing John can’t seem to bear it anymore. You collapse into his chest, your tits pushed flat against his pecs.
His cock throbs near painfully, sliding against your soft cunt before finding himself lined with you. He thinks to himself that it’s this he was looking for, as he tucks your face against his neck and lets his tip stretch you out slowly. Such a vice like grip, stretching - resisting him like your whole body can’t anticipate the sensation of fullness. You gasp against his throat. 
“John,”  
What a sweet sound from your mouth, even sweeter as he bucks himself up. Keeps you steady and lets his cock stretch you full, feel you deep. “That’s right, my angel. Didn’t think you’d remember my name when you’re all worked up like this.” 
“You’re,” You gasp and John thrusts, thrusts hard until he’s buried to the hilt. You shudder, walls pulsing around him as he bottoms out and John laughs like the terrible man he is. He fucks you again, over and over - a wicked little smile watching “Awful. Just awful, John Marston,” 
“Ain’t that the truth,” He hums against your mouth as his hand snakes between your bodies, thumb rubbing against your clit. “Wonder what kinda woman that makes you,” 
“A foolish one,” 
John laughs. 
“I sure do love you for it,”
.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚。⋆JAVIER ESCUELLA + SIDEWAYS ;
Javier hasn’t thought about much other than surviving. 
It’s been like that. Been like that for a while, probably much longer than he cares to admit. He’s sure any sane man would suffer the same plight if they lead the same life. Anything but survival is little more than a pipe-dream, so Javier tries not to go for anything too strongly. In that aspect he’s like many of the members of the gang he’s in, perhaps that’s why he sticks to them. There’s that phrase Hosea’s always saying - that misery loves company. Javier will take any decent company he can get.  He’s desperate for it just like he’s desperate for most things - inwardly, silently. 
Some of that desperation may be symptomatic of who he is. After he killed a man in a crime of passion for a woman he loved and ran from a government who would sooner exile him than change, Javier decided to not dream anymore. Every revolutionary who dreams too hopefully pays the price in blood.
(Javier thinks there’s probably nothing in the world as true as this. A form of gospel. He remembers the first dream he ever had after his uncle passed. Not a nightmare but a dream. He remembers the exact feeling of waking up, cold and confused. What is a dream, except a memento of survivor's guilt that loyal people cling onto fruitlessly. When hope starts to feel like a debt he’s going to waste his life paying back, Javier loses sight of everything. The beginning of the end in some way.) 
His mind doesn’t occupy itself with anything bigger than that. Since Dutch found him starving, there was never a desire to try and live off aspirations. He pays his penance with loyalty and honor. Practices some form of humility and tries, not too desperately, to carve a place for him to fit. All without drawing too much attention or caring too much. If you ignore the bleeding in his fingers, his penchant for knives over guns, and his refusal to talk too long about the place he comes from - it’s nearly believable that none of it matters. 
Except loyalty. All Javier honors is that. It’s the only thing he has some part in choosing, so he choses it every time. Living like that didn’t make any difference to him. He was surrounded by mostly decent people. He didn’t hate the life he was living. 
It wasn’t important. It didn’t matter. His directionless-ness, his floating. Hadn’t since he joined the gang. At least not to anyone but him. He didn’t know what he’s meant to do or if he was meant to proceed with this forever. He was (is)  loyal to Dutch. To the gang. 
He hadn’t thought much about what comes after. 
And it didn’t matter until he met you
He’d sworn off love after seeing where it got him, at least until he could love more dispassionately. When the women bring you back from their outing from Valentine and beg Dutch to let you stay, Javier doesn’t think much of it all. He thinks you’re pretty, if it counts for anything. But he doesn’t let himself linger on you too long. 
But that’s the sequence with you two, really. The whole time.  He doesn’t linger until he does. It doesn't matter until it does. He doesn’t think about you until it’s all he can think about. 
You go for him first. And it’s in little, unimportant ways that might not mean shit to you but mean a whole lot to him. You have some kind of tenderness about you that you wear deep, runs through your blood like love ran through his once long ago. Some softness he can’t really measure with his own. It’s not that that gets him. It’s that sometimes you look at Javier like he's … someone you want to see. He forgot what that was like all together. It felt foreign to him the first time it happened. Seeing how you light up when Javier is around. 
You wanted to see him. You noticed that he’s gone. If he sang by the campfire - you’d sit by him and listen.  If he was out in the trees keeping guard, he’d hear the soft call of your voice to Grimshaw ask Where’s Javier? And sometimes the girls will make fun of you - but you wouldn’t deny anything they said. It’s so small and ordinary. He would’ve never considered himself simple before meeting you. Nothing is simple. Nothing. 
(But then, Javier thinks of the kinds of songs he sings and the way he takes care of himself and the clothes he wears and maybe Javier has some kind of affinity for preciousness that explains all of it.) 
When Javier confesses his feelings for you - he finds the affair to be like most things between you. Ordinary love, not really between outlaws but people. It’s up against a tree while you share a drink and he’s looking at the curve of your mouth and the plum color Karen’s so kindly put on you. And his head fills with kissing you so he does. A breathless confession between alcohol stains and the feeling of your hands curled in the lapels of his suit. 
From there, Javier is your lover. He’s not interested in the business of secrets, but he tries not to let it show too much. Not that he doesn’t want to. He wants to show you off more than anything - at least some part of him does. But the other part wants to keep you away from prying eyes, keep his love for you only where the both of you can see. If he could keep that pretty lovestruck face you make all to himself forever he would. 
When he gets a chance to whisk you away from everything, Javier jumps at the chance. Not often, but Javier makes time for you. Makes time to indulge in love he thought he’d  never find again. 
That’s why he’s here with you in the middle of nowhere, a ghost town where no one knows you.. A reserved room with a bed and lowlights all to yourselves. 
Javier can’t keep his hands to himself and he doubts you expect him too. 
For Javier, this sense of proximity is what intoxicates him most. The warmth of your bare skin in the slivers of yourself exposed. Javier is fond of finding you like this after a long day of horse riding. Of sneaking touches to your waist as you push back against him to sleep, only to find his desire for you - laid clearly. He likes hearing you whimper feeling his length poke against your back, the embarrassment when it dawns on you that he wants you after all. Always surprised, even though Javier tells you it so often. Whispers it along your neck and shoulders whenever you’re at camp together.
You like the feeling of his hands so Javier always starts with them. He squeezes your hips. Planes his palms over your chest before squeezing your chest, pushing the fat between his fingers. You like the way  they look when they grope you, his chin resting against your shoulder as you spoon. In the lowlights of a cheap hotel - Javier gets the perfect view of your silhouette. Your body is sensitive over the fabric of your gown, heat prickling through you. 
Javier who is always so gentle with you, rouses so deep listening to your whining as he explores your body. The suffocating closeness of a single bed intoxicates him. 
“Javier,” Your voice is sweet and thin. Plays in Javier’s head like music and makes his mouth curl up into a catlike grin as you push back on him.  You look slightly over your shoulder, lips pushed into a pout. “Please,” 
He tugs at the fabric of your nightgown. The top half pulls haphazard underneath your tits, nipples perky and sensitive to touch while the skirt pools at your waist. What gets Javier like this is the desperation. Wanting so much but not being able to look too long. A way for you to mirror him, it’s a matter of possession. In some stupid way. Bunching your clothes up, pushing the fabric of your panties to one side, letting his arm wrap around your waist to touch and tease.  All of these are imprints of his longing, tucked faithful into your side as he whispers sweet nothings into your skin.
His cock twitches as it pushes past your folds with finality, your hands curling up at your sides.  You whimper softly, let your cheek rest against the sheets as Javier takes you on your side. Terribly close, you fuss as you feel him slide every inch into you slow, your hands reaching back for purchase. It’s the fit of you against him so perfect, the silent strokes of intimacy, the hush-hush giggles between the sheets that Javier loves most about fucking you like this. Too enamored with you to look too closely, he lets his eyes flutter closed. He could get drunk just being in your space. 
He carves out space for himself inside of you, feels your cunt accommodate for him like it loves him. A feverishness breaks out as his forehead rests on the space between your shoulders, an uncharacteristic whiny quality in his words. 
“Ser mío,” Javier says - as a reflection of what he really wants, to belong only to you. “Belong to me.” 
Darling as you always are, you nod softly. 
“All yours, Javier,” You whimper, finding his hand. “Forever,”
.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚。⋆ CHARLES SMITH + MATING PRESS ; 
Wandering. 
He’s been doing it his whole life. Not something he’s proud of. Or ashamed of either, really. Just how things have gone for him until now. Charles doesn’t think his life has been any better or any worse than anyone else's. At least not when he weighs it with the same kind of pragmatism he does most things. It’s been a hard life, and a miserable one in so many ways. Still, it’s not something Charles is too keen to dwell on. 
There’s just something thematic about loss in Charles' life in a way he finds completely unpleasant. It’s more constant than anything. Loss of his home, loss of his mother, loss of his father in an attempt to find what’s best for him. It’s some overarching message that hangs over his head like a shadow. Everywhere he goes, trying to rectify his own solitude seems to come back to him. It doesn’t help that it’s an unfair world to start with, and would’ve been if he had just been black or just been native. But Charles is both, and has lived a life that reflects that specific injustice thoroughly. 
There’s not really anything Charles can do about it, at its baseline. When he left his father, the name of the game had simply been survival. He was well-equipped enough for that at least. But after survival comes trying to live and trying to live isn’t something so simple. Jumping in and out of gangs who thought they could get away with slighting him or generally being surrounded by unpleasant people. Trying to find something in pages of book and scripture, or in the way water ripples when it rains. 
He’s never felt any one way towards the gang. Even when he joined them all the way back in the Grizzlies. Lost in the cold, they’d crossed paths as Charles was out hunting. A lot of it feels like a blur. Of all the folks he’s met in his travels though, Dutch treats him fair and the rest of them (or most of them) are decent, honest folk. Charles stays in the Van Der Linde gang for such simple reasons as trying to stay alive and be somewhere that isn’t actively hostile towards him. He’s a good gunman, and a better fighter. The inner workings of gang politics and forging connection isn’t at the forefront of his mind, with the exception of the kindest few. 
The Van Der Linde gang is just a place where he can figure out what his purpose is meant to be, even if he doesn’t find it there. He’s never expecting anything to come out from his loyalties to it. 
Of all the things Charles expects of his life in the Van Der Linde gang, love is at the very bottom of the list. 
Maybe it’s about time he stops being surprised by these things happening to him one or way another.
 You were a member of the gang far before him, and someone Charles took to quickly. You’d joined the gang not too long after John from what Arthur tells him. Though the brunette speaks about you more fondly than he does his brother. A problem child at the start, according to Arthur - always getting into all sorts of trouble. Something you seemingly feel embarrassed about now and refuse to bring up. Charles has a hard time picturing it having only known you as you are. 
The woman you’ve grown into is someone else completely, and Charles sees that in you all the time. Compassionate like Hosea but charismatic like Dutch, and clever. And you’re beautiful, too, though Charles feels a little shallow admitting that’s part of what drew you into him. 
It wasn’t Charles that approached you first. You were the one who spoke to him, as often as you thought necessary but never in a way he found invasive. He doesn’t know what it is exactly about you that charms him near instantly. You’re enigmatic to a fault. It’s like you always know exactly what to say and exactly when to say it. Even more than that, you’re a terribly pleasant person to be around. Subtly warm and free of assumptions. When Charles talks to you about anything, you listen without making him feel like it’s any sort of burden to you. You don’t pry, don’t make missteps. Treat him fair, and then some. 
It’s unbearably simple, just how quickly and how easily he comes to adore you.  And, in some ways, Charles knows better than to believe that his purpose is loving someone. There’s more to it than that, surely - after everything. 
But then, he’ll watch you do something. Watch you do some kind of menial work that he could do for you instead. Thinks of skinning animals for new clothes and chopping wood and rubbing the soap off of you and all of a sudden it makes him feel anchored. Everything he could do for you. You anchor Charles easily, with a wispy smile. Make him want to find purpose in life with you. He never wants to be somewhere you’re not. 
He confesses it to you just like that, and like you do with most things - you accept and reciprocate without making too much of a fuss. 
For Charles, making love is an extension of wanting to ground himself in you. A distant siren song - the intersection of lust and bone deep adoration. Like most things, you’re the one to approach first every time. A soft hand on his forearm, a whisper that you want him. It’s with ease that he draws you away. Drags from you camp during nightfall with his horse and blankets and picks a spot with the perfect view of the stars. 
Charles watches you under the glow of moonlight, his vision adjusting to you easily. Naked underneath him, laid on your back with your legs folded at your knees - heaving deep breaths. He can see the sweat beading down your skin, your chest rising and falling - and the perfect view of your pussy. His hands and mouth are wet as you breathe out. He finds himself smiling at you, his own erection pressed against your thigh, pre-cum leaking out in a mesmerized haze. 
You lift your hands up and he leans down, surprised as you wrap them around his neck and pull him closer to you. Your mouths meet like that, and Charles laughs against your lips as you kiss him so eagerly. You blink at him, pretty. You’re always prettier than he remembers you being the last time he looks. 
“Charles,” You frown at him. “It’s impolite to keep a lady waiting,” 
He kisses the corner of your mouth. “Sorry, my love. I don’t want to hurt you,” 
“Well, I’m fine with it,” You repeat, almost petulant. Charles frowns. “‘Sides, it ain’t my first time taking you, you know?” 
“Well, I’m not fine with it.” 
You pout, looking at him all endeared. Charles couldn’t help but love you even if he tried. “You ain’t gonna hurt me. C’mon. Please?” 
“Please, what?” 
You look at him aghast before breaking out into a faux-scandalized giggle. “Now you—please fuck me. Pretty, please.” 
Charles feels something tickling against his spine hearing you say it. He couldn’t imagine getting sick of you in his whole life.  “Yeah, that’s good to hear.” 
You make an indignant noise but it’s silenced quickly as Charles positions himself against your entrance. He has plenty of discipline when it comes to matters like these, but right now - he feels like he’s going to lose his mind. Not nearly enough patience to wait. He lets his hands go up underneath your knees just to have something to hold onto. 
You make a little gasp as the tip of his cock pushes into you. Your walls are so soft, likely after all the orgasms he’d given you prior. You stop him in a shocked gasp, and Charles immediately readies himself to pull out. As if sensing his hesitance, you shake your head. 
“Charles,” You gasp, the words caught in your throat and hoarse “Deep. Want it deep,” 
His abdomen tightens, cocking twitching hard at your words. He agrees silently to your desires. 
When it comes to sex, there’s very little Charles dislikes.
But this is his favorite. He’s simple but no other position lets him see you so close. He likes the way your eyes widen as he pushes up underneath your knees and folds you underneath his weight. How you look pinned down under him, the perfect view of your eyes rolling back into your head and the proximity from your face to his. He lets his cock stretch you out slowly, throbbing each time your nails dig desperately into arms trying to keep your composure. Fuck you feel so tight like that. Soft pussy, dripping and sticky. You suck him in relentlessly, and Charles groans as he bottoms out. You take every inch of him so well. So perfect like the rest of you. 
Your eyes flutter open as he stays there, buried in you in complete bliss. You’re dazed. 
“Kiss?” 
Surprise followed by adoration, he abides by your request easily. Overwhelmed with it as he presses a chaste peck to your mouth, he laughs. “As many as you want.”
Anything you want, Charles thinks, he would give to you. 
.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚。⋆
2K notes · View notes
oh-obrien · 3 months ago
Text
GRID ACE 0.1
GAMER READER X Lestappen SMAU
Summary: Reader is a Red Bull e-sports athlete who happens to catch the attention of two particular drivers with her streams
I am new-ish to the F1 fandom so hopefully I didn't mess this up too bad! I used to be an AVID fic writer on wattpad and I dabbled here in imagines and what not but a full time job (and a boyfriend who got me more into gaming RUDE) really shits on my desire to write sometimes and i found that SMAU's seem to be super popular in this fandom and they felt perfect 😊!
And my requests for these are open!!
All pictures are from Pinterest!!!
Reader has various face claims!
Masterlist / Next Part
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Xx.y/n.xX just posted
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Liked by yourbestfriend, maxverstappen1, and 6,756 others
Xx.y/n.xX the only appropriate way to spend a Friday night pre-stream
Yourbestfriend val really????
-> Xx.y/n.xX it’s almost like I’m a professional or something 🥸
-> yourteammate1 professional bottom frag maybe
-> Xx.y/n.xX SIT DOWN YOU INSTALOCK REYNA
User1 I fear the girlies claws are out today
-> Xx.y/n.xX I did do my nails today 😌
-> User1 THE QUEEN RESPONDED
-> Xx.y/n.xX rainy Friday nail day video coming to you soon!
Redbullgaming we love to see our number 1 girl on the grind
liked by maxverstappen1
-> Xx.y/n.xX awww admin you’re gonna make me blush
->yourteammate2 STOP STROKING HER EGO SHE ALREDY TOP FRAGS
-> Xx.y/n.xX get better then???
User2 is no one going to talk about THE Max Verstappen being in the likes?????
-> Xx.y/n.xX @ maxverstappen1 goes vroom vroom for RB 🤝 I go pew pew for RB
-> maxverstappen1 🫡
-> Xx.y/n.xX see he gets it!!
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
Xx.y/n.xX just posted
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liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, and 12,568 others
Xx.y/n.xX join me, a Redbull vroom vroom driver and some other vroom vroom guy (his team is the red one apparently) on a stream!
Redbullgaming hope @ maxverstappen1 didn’t embarrass the name too bad
-> Xx.y/n.xX he went 4/22/2 his first game @ redbullracing please take him back!!! 😵‍💫
-> charles_leclerc I went 6/18/4! 😌
-> Xx.y/n.xX I’ve been informed this one belongs to you @ scuderiaferrari please tell him to stick to cars!!
-> Scuderiaferrari it’s not a race weekend he isn’t our problem
-> Xx.y/n.xX this is why I’m a @ redbullracing fan
-> Redbullgaming your contract also helps
Maxverstappen1 I’d like to see you behind the wheel of my car then
-> Xx.y/n.xX @ Redbullracing am I ‘on the grid’ (I was told those are the appropriate terms) next weekend?
-> Redbullracing y/n reserve driver when???
-> Xx.y/n.xX @ Redbullgaming you’re going to need to find a new Neon main 🫣
-> Redbullgaming @ redbullracing I’m afraid we need to keep this one, you don’t want her anyways (she bites)
-> Charles_leclerc I won’t complain about biting
liked by @ Maxverstappen1
User3 I’m sorry Max AND Charles streaming with her??
-> User4 like exactly????
-> User5 she doesn’t realize how lucky she is?
-> Xx.y/n.xX they were actually horrible teammates so…
-> User4 WAIT DID YOU NOT SEE THE COMMENT CHARLES DELETED????
-> User3 WHAT???
-> Xx.y/n.xX I plead the fifth, I’m American I can do that.
Landonorris where was my invite?
-> Xx.y/n.xX @ maxverstappen1 @ charles_leclerc does this one vroom vroom too?
-> Maxverstappen1 yes.
-> charles_leclerc yes.
-> Xx.y/n.xX ☠️
Teammate3 you traded us in?
-> Xx.y/n.xX more like downgraded
-> User6 PLEASE. I am living for Y/N absolutely roasting Max and Charles any chance she gets.
-> Xx.y/n.xX I mean @ charles_leclerc roasted himself with Brim’s molly so…. Not really my fault?
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
Charles_leclerc just posted
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tagged @ maxverstappen1 @ Xx.y/n.xX
Liked by Xx.y/n.xX, maxverstappen1, and 24,568 others
Charles_leclerc when the groupchat finally meets up
Xx.y/n.xX vroom vroom 🏎️
-> User7 I love how unserious she is like she didn’t just spend the weekend with Max and Charles
-> Xx.y/n.xX I actually spent the weekend with bottom frag and almost bottom frag, who holds which title is interchangeable they haven’t earned names yet.
-> Scuderiaferrari TECHNICALLY they were first and second frag on the podium
-> Xx.y/n.xX excuse me admin, I didn't say you could speak
-> Charles_leclerc excuse me y/n, I didn't say you could be in my comments
-> Landonorris @ Xx.y/n.xX you're allowed in my comments
-> Maxverstappen1 no.
-> Charles_leclerc no.
-> Xx.y/n.xX I KNOW THIS ONE HE'S AN ORANGE VROOM VROOM @ landonorris
User7 are we not going to talk about how fast she managed to get to a GP?
-> User8 are we not going to talk about how fast it feels like this friendship developed
-> User7 or how she already has other drivers joking with her too?
-> Xx.y/n.xX I'm a big kid I can get myself to a GP
Danielricciardo Y/N showed the entire gird up at the after party
-> User9 DETAILS????
-> Xx.y/n.xX a lady never shares her secrets 🤫
-> Maxverstappen1 a lady does share her shots though
Liked by @ Charles_leclerc
-> Xx.y/n.xX SILENCE BOTTOM FRAG NUMBER ONE
Teammate1 We need her back soon thxxxxxx
-> Xx.y/n.xX I fear they have discovered they can't win games without me
-> Landonorris y/n carry!!
Liked by @ Maxverstappen1 and @ Charles_leclerc
-> Xx.y/n.xX nevermind the orange vroom vroom man can stay, I like him.
-> Maxverstappen1 no.
-> Charles_leclerc no.
Redbullgaming we hope you had a great time y/n (you better have spent time in the @ redbullracing garage also)!!!
-> Xx.y/n.xX this feels like a threat admin?
-> Maxverstappen1 sadly she was in the garage, she knocked over some tires and just said oops
->Xx.y/n.xX you love me
Liked by @ Maxverstappen1
-> User10 umm guys????? CAN WE TALK ABOUT THIS???
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
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Tweet 1
User13 The trio we didn't know we needed but we can't live without 🫡
-> User14 Did you see the tweet someone posted where they were apparently FLIRTING at dinner?
-> User13 NO?!?!?!
-> User14 @ User12 posted it go look at the thread
User15 I fear we have lost another one of the girlies chat
->User14 Y/N will always be a girls girl
User16 what is she doing in Monaco?
->User17 hanging out with vroom vroom boys apparently
->User16 hopefully we get a stream while she's there then!
-> Xx.y/n.xX I'm already on it, I'm trying to make sure they don't embarrass me though, they're not allowed to stream until they can go even
-> User14 She sees everything.
-> Xx.y/n.xX Yes, yes I do (so do bottom frag number one and two)
Tweet 2
User12 they were all sitting super close together and y/n kept touching both their arms, lots of shoulders bumping and giggling. They were also all totally sharing food which was kind of cute.
-> User18 sharing food??? I need DETAILS.
-> User12 they all kept just shoving their forks on to each others plates no asking or anything just stealing each others food.
-> Xx.y/n.xX to be fair we all got stuck super close together at the table so like no choice there (ick), and on the sharing we were all indecisive so sharing is caring ❤️
->User20 SHE REALLY SAID ICK.
->Xx.y/n.xX my mama always taught me boys have cooties sooooo...
User19 HELLO? Did you ask for a picture or anything like that?
-> User12 NO they literally looked like they were having the time of their lives? They kept swapping drinks and stuff too, the boys were LIVING for y/n’s fruity cocktails
-> Xx.y/n.xX I don’t drink wine, only mixed drinks or hard liquor, they were just mooching off my drinks because Mr. World Champion wouldn't order a little fruity drink himself.
-> User12 NOT THE WOMAN IN QUESTION IN MY REPLIES
-> Xx.y/n.xX I’m everywhere 👀
533 notes · View notes
maplesyrupsainz · 1 year ago
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˖⁺。˚⋆˙clues | MV1˖⁺。˚⋆˙
pairing: max verstappen x singer!reader y/n (she/her)
genre: social media au
warnings: fluff af
summary: in which you and your boyfriend lay out clues for your fans to connect the dots of your new relationship
a/n: super cute req not a maisie fan myself but saw the soft launch pics nd immediately thought i need to make a fanfic of this 😝 ended up choosing max coz i feel like i've done slightly similar plots with oscar & lando before, i barely write for max !
request!!!: Hiii, I’ve never requested before so slightly nervous but I have idea lol. Idk if you know who Maisie peters is (amazing singer btw if you don’t know her go look her up!) but she recently just high key hard launched but covers the face of her bf, maybe you could do something like this for like max, Lando or Oscar 🤷‍♀️ I have been literally day dreaming about it and maybe like everyone’s trying to figure out who it is and with every picture that’s posted there’s clues idk!! Completely up to you! Anyway love your work 🫶🫶🫶
fc: maisie peters
my masterlist
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instagram ->
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, oliviarodrigo, and 892,283 others
yourusername ‘there it goes’ is urs now.. i hope u love it as much as i do 🫶
view all 11,822 comments
user1 the love we had was eating me whole i had to send it home 🥺
user2 i threw a party he kissed me right in front of my friends ?!? 🤔
oliviarodrigo so amazing as always 🫶
yourusername ahh tysm angel!!!
yourbff SO PROUD OF U
yourusername love u so so much
user3 omg this song is so amazing im so happy she's moving on from her ex
user4 me too she deserves the world fr
user5 the way i loved u i will not be embarrassed of that ❤️
user6 she's so talented i love her fr
maxverstappen1 posted a story
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liked by danielricciardo, yourbff, and 538,192 others
user7 OMG THE CROSSOVER
user8 wtf is max in london
user9 omg what is happeninggg
user10 feels sus
twitter ->
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instagram ->
yourusername posted a story
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liked by yourbff, maxverstappen1, and 718,634 others
user15 omg a bf ??
user16 OMG WHO IS HE
user17 boooo & we all wanted her to date max lol
user18 she alr has a man 😭
user19 max verstappen found d3@d
yourbff
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liked by yourusername, gracieabrams, and 528,028 others
yourbff perks of ur best friend being famous xoxo
tagged: yourusername
view all 4,283 comments
user20 not y/bff/n being a red bull supporter!!!
user21 another win for the maxy/n agenda
user22 obsessed with the y/n f1 crossover
yourusername car go zoom or whatever
yourbff ikr my favourite part was when they drove fast
gracieabrams tell y/n to get off the paddock & into the studio!!
yourbff i'll let you tell her that 😝
yourusername 🤨
user23 you tell her gracie
user24 y/n looks sooo cute
user25 ikr max verstappen found crying in the rb garage
yourusername
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liked by yourbff, redbullracing, and 991,367 others
yourusername gives u wings 🪽
tagged: yourbff
view all 13,892 comments
user26 omg the red bull references...
user27 IS SHE DATING MAX VERSTAPPEN I NEED TO KNOW
user28 so many clues
user29 maybe they're jus friends? they've never even been seen interacting
redbullracing 🫶
liked by yourusername
user30 something is happening
yourbff hehe 👀
user31 EVEN THIS IS SUSPICIOUS
user32 i feel like her first soft launch was too early for it to be max
twitter ->
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interview ->
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instagram ->
yourusername
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liked by sabrinacarpenter, charles_leclerc, and 1,692,901 others
yourusername a crush? no well i would take him on a date if he wanted
view all 18,736 comments
user35 ok im convinced
user36 this is so cute i could cry
user37 NOT HER QUOTING MAX IM FINISHED
user38 they're dating surely
user39 "reasons i love you" omg😭😭😭😭
user40 CHARLES IN THE LIKES?
yourbff favs
liked by yourusername
twitter ->
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instagram ->
maxverstappen1
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liked by yourusername, landonorris, and 1,021,732 others
maxverstappen1 the best tour guide 🇬🇧
tagged: yourusername
view all 14,827 comments
user42 omg
user43 this is life changing
user44 IM SO SHOCKED
yourusername ❤️❤️
liked by maxverstappen1
user45 AHHH
yourbff finally
maxverstappen1 🤫
user46 can't believe my fav singer is dating my fav driver
user47 & who was it that said only hot girls support rb 😝
charles_leclerc my favourites
maxverstappen1 ❤️
twitter ->
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instagram ->
yourusername
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liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1, and 1,927,183 others
yourusername my life my heart my love
tagged: maxverstappen1
view all 23,103 comments
user51 this relationship might be the best thing to ever happen to me
user52 daniel ricciardo in the likes we won fr
user53 i love u y/n
user54 y/n love songs about max incoming
charles_leclerc we love having you around y/n !
yourusername ahhh tysm for being so welcoming
user55 OMGGG LOVEEEE
danielricciardo slay y/n
yourusername yupppp u know ittt
user56 FRIENDSHIP?!?!??
yourusername of course we're friends i have to earn the approval of all of max's boyfriends
danielricciardo HAHAHAH
maxverstappen1 🤨
maxverstappen1 i love you
yourusername i love you 🥰
THE END 💙
1K notes · View notes
gojoshooter · 1 year ago
Note
Hi bestie. I was at a party and saw this shit. Can you write a scenario/hc where gojo's crush uses his glasses as a reflective surface/mirror to put on her lipstick. Just curious how you think this would play out but this is somewhat so cute to me.
annon im snatching your brain 🏃 this is hella cute
Fifty Shades Of Friendship
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an. both seem to like shades—you, on his eyes and him, on your lips
It's a chilly November night, and you're sitting by the bar counters in a little end-year party by your best friend and beloved classmate of Jujutsu High. The charming party host— no other than Gojo Satoru sits beside you on one of the stools and waves towards the under classmen messing around on the dance floor. It's not too late when his eyes land on your smudged petal pink lips, probably caused by the Martini you sipped with it's brim.
He snorts, sitting up his slacked back from the counter and pointing at your lip. “Look at that y/n, who did you make out with this time?” It's some sort of default setting of his phsycology to make remarks on his crush bestfriend, that is, you, like some damned antibody.
Raising your eyebrows, your fingertips reach for your lip by instinct. “Mm?” he rests his cheek on his knuckles, giving a soft smile “Yes your lips. Who was it, Nanami?” and he receives an eyer roll “Haibara. I knew it” “Martini, ’toru”
Then you're looking around the club, trying to find a quick reflecting surface... none. Hmm, you think, as you take out a wipe along with your rosy-coral lipstick. You're still looking around, when your eyes slide to Gojo's loud chortle watching his dorky juniors. An adorable laugh, and then, oh— there it is, makshift mirror.
Holding his cheeks by your fingers, your turn the white head and watch as a tiny tiny gasp slips out of your bosom buddy “’toru, can you look here for a second?” he binks, nodding unconsciously as his vision drops lower towards your lip that you jut out so adorably. He might just put his on yours.
Phew, if it wasn't for the club's lights, Gojo's red face would've been exposed. Dragging your bar stool, you slip closer to his shades and begin fixing your makeup. He watches your soft lips through the translucent black glasses, occasionally travelling to your puppy shaped eyes.
His cheeks almost match the colour of your lipstick by the time you're done and when your attention finally penetrates the surface of his glasses, you can almost make out his glacier eyes looking back at your softer browns... oh. Butterflies, butterflies in stomach.
Your leaning back straightens comically fast. Coming out of trance, Gojo blinks and looks away rubbing his warm neck. “Woah- woah...” oh gosh, and his pitch comes out way higher than it originally is? Did that little moment effect him someway? You tuck a strand of hair behind, wondering.
“Pretty, y/n... I like it” you smile lightly at his comment, taking your drink back from the counter. And just for the virtue of conformation, you reply softly “You like it ’toru?” a small lick on the corner of your lip, while you try to conceal your uncontrollable smile. Best friends to lovers doesn't sound like a bad trope afterall... “Would you not like to ruin it again?”
There it is—got him, not even the club lights can hide cheeks that red.
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masterlist !!
ps. shy gojo >>>> also like and rbs are appreciated<333
tags. @anubisisthebomb @dianagracesworld @stellagrangerreads12 @momochina-sama @xxkay15xx @ruins-posts @4sat0ruu @therealjustpeachesback
1K notes · View notes
voidzphere · 9 months ago
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☆ MASTERPOST // INTRO !!!
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[ ALL THE BLOGZ I RUN: @killersanz (sideblog) @dailykillerr (daily killer sans that i have not posted on yet erm) ]
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
╭───────────── * ˚ ✦
hii !! im killer, but my friendz + mootz call me killz !! welcome to my blog ^_^ i love u too brutiee @mewobrute <33 (more stuff under the cut!!)
╰───────────── ✧.* ⋆
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✩ ABOUT ME !!! >_<
FIRST OFF, HERE ARE SOME OF MY FLAGZ !!! :3 ↓↓↓
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my main prnz are he/it/bite, but i alzo use vamp/fang/bone/skull/blood/gore/knife ! (plz dont refer 2 me w they/them)
my special interest is undertale + utmv ! (if that waznt obv enough..)
i love love LOVE horror gamez .. some of my favz rn are kinitopet, imscared, house, ddlc, rental, and bonnie's bakery :]
I HAVE A PERSONA ! u can find itz ref sheet here :] i uzually draw myself as either him or juzt killer sans !!
I LOOOVE MY MOOTZ, FRIENDZ, AND PARTNER <333
some of my current hyperfixationz are fionna & cake, smg4, regretevator, atsv, invader zim, adventure time & dialtown !
i have a guestbook !! leave a little note for me to read if u want :3
some of my fav bandz/artistz are talking heads, misfits, bad brains, rio romeo, lemon demon, will wood, pixies, melanie martinez, alex g, 6arelyhuman, goreshit, sex pistols, potsu, the living tombstone, etc. !
some of my fav songz are alien blues, vampire culture, laplace's angel, dr sunshine is dead, seriously?, genius of love, at the movies, charlie's inferno, etc. !
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✩ my tagz !
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#killz art - my art !! :3
#killz rb - reblogz
#killz yapz - my yap sessionz
#killz answerz - answerz to my askz
#vent kinda - my (kinda) ventz
#tag/ask game - self-explanatory
#killersanz - stuff related to my killer sans ask blog !
#killz fingie doodlez - stuff i drew w my finger :3
#killz srb - self reblogz
#killz sans - my sonaaa ^_^
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✩ dni
basic dni criteria
istz + phobez
epiciller, /r + /sx errorink, etc.
pro/dark/comship (or whatever you call your weirdo selvez..)
irl doublez (unless i knew u beforehand!!) (im irlz of killer, reaper, & epic.)
minorz who post nsfw cuz ion wanna see that shit man go do ur homework
slander of my interestz/special interestz + hyperfixationz like stfu
mockery of me and/or my traitz (i.e my typing quirkz)
unwanted criticism, especially if i didnt ask for it. stfu part 2
anyone i've had drama with + my exez (fuck you)
HOMESTUCK. and hazbin hotel + helluva boss (tbh i dont rlly care if you like these mediaz and interact with me, just dont talk abt it in front of me yknow)
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✩ byi + boundariez
i have autism + adhd, BPD, & typing quirkz !! tone indicatorz are optional when talking to me, but i appreciate them.
i'm an irl + fictkin ! i have a few c-linkz as well.
im not a roleplay account btw /srs
my art requestz are alwayz open ! can't promise i'll alwayz do them, but they help me out with inspiration though :3
DO NOT REPOST MY ART. i will find you
if you use my art, credit me. you dont alwayz gotta ask me before usin my art, but i appreciate it if you do !!
my askbox + dmz are alwayz open !! i love meetin new people n gettin to know em :] im fine w tagz, commentz, & spam-likez/reblogz too !
i might accidentally spam-like (i get too excited).
just because i make suggestive jokez and im hypersexual doez not mean i'm not sex-replused from time to time.
im a DID system and use i/me pronounz. i don't talk about my DID often becauze i see it as unimportant to other ppl.
i'm nonhuman !! plz do not refer to me as human. i prefer skeleton termz over everything else. im ur favorite homozexual cryptid-skeleton :3
i tend to ramble, say thingz that are out-of-pocket, have trouble with volume control/typing in all capz, make inappropriate jokez, flirt with & tease my close friendz, etc. if u ever find any of this bothering, plz inform me and i will stop.
i love drama + gossip, i will argue with strangerz on the internet just to spite them bc i find it funny ^_^ (only if theyre in the wrong and deserve it.)
i have strong opinionz and will shit-talk you if you're a weirdo who deservez it.
my blog, my rulez <3
★ last updated: 12/5/24
450 notes · View notes
racmune · 19 days ago
Note
ok actually gonna talk about this i was thinking 2 heavy had to log back in for this post specifically excuse the rant yall :(
like i dont care for miss pauling being super serious etc but in the time between my initial autism hatred and now im willing 2 chalk that up to me making shit up/ extrapolating or whatevs
BUT SCOUT HAD MATURED! HE DID ALREADY! AND THAT IS WHAT TRULY HAS ME FUCKED UP ABT THE SCOUTPAULING BLUNDER . SCOUT BEING ALL LIKE "OMG I CAN FREAK IT WITH PRETTY WEMEN?!!>" JUST MISUNDERSTANDS HIS CHARACTER AND RELATIONSHIP TO MISS PAULING SO BAD AND IM SUCH AN ERM ACTUALLYING SCOUTPAULINGCEL AT THIS POINT BUT WHO GAF THIS IS MY TRUTH THE COMIC HURT ME LIKE NOBODY EVEN UNDERSTANDS HOW GRAVELY THIS WILL AFFECT THE POSTING ECONOMY
MY BOY DID NOT LIKE HER BECAUSE SHES JUST HOT AND THAT FUCKING SCENE IS GONNA MAKE ME HAVE DENTAL PROBLEMS , LIKE
//ritalin wearing off so excuse the extra tangents but like. in a way i sorta could tell it was kinda already coming to this? im not sure where i can find screenshots but i was talking about the scene with god in the 6th comic where he wants scout 2 fuck insane styles all over the place and how it undermined a lot of what was important to his interest in miss pauling and that he was growing to chill tf out at her earlier in the comic when he met up with her and gave her that hug etc. i understand what theyre trying to do/say with their relationship in this story NOW but it just doesnt really work for me in the same way still. for obvious reasons .. well. who cares scoutpauling 4life what ru a COP get OUT OF MY HOUSE//
miss pauling in the mainline comics isnt into him but it doesnt change the fact that scout genuinely loved her regardless, EXP DATE WOULD NEVER DO THIS TO ME LIKE. exp date shows that hes been around , HE IS OUT HERE FUCKING MISS PAULING IS NOT THE ONLY WOMAN HES EVER MET IN HIS LIFE
//like i get in the mainline comics they treat him as a virgin or whatever but i think it just oversimplifies who he is and the comics often dumb him down worse than he really is but also i made up things in my mind so i should shut up. I wont.//
HE DOESNT STICK AROUND AND TRY TO DO NICE STUFF FOR HER JUST CUZ HE WANTS TO GET IN HER PANTS CUZ SHES HOT. HE COULD PICK UP HOT WOMEN VIA BUCKET OF CHICKEN VERY EASILY BUT WHEN IT COMES DOWN TO IN A TUMOR RELATED DEATH SITUATION HE WANTS TO DO SOMETHING SPECIAL BECAUSE SHE IS IMPORTANT TO HIM SPECIFICALLY. MY MAN COULDVE DECIDED TO LITERALLY ANYTHING ELSE WITH HIS ASSUMED TO BE DWINDLING TIME BUT DECIDED NOT TO.
HE LIKES HER FOR DEEPER REASONS . HE LIKES THAT SHES SMART AND PUT TOGETHER AND NICE LIKE HE SINCERELY WOULDNT SAY ALLAT SHIT TO SPY IF HE DIDNT MEAN IT LIKE HE IS THE WORLDS MOST REVOLTING AUTISTIC WARRIOR IF HE WAS JUST IN IT FOR COOCHIE HE WOULD MAKE IT ABUNDANTLY CLEAR LIKE COME ON. MATTER OF FACT - HE DOES! IN THEIR FIRST SCENE THEY ARE IN TOGETHER! AND YET! HE MATURES!
LIKE
HE GROWS TO NOT JUST WANNA HIT ON HER, HIS LAST WISH IS LEGIT TO ONLY GO ON A DATE WITH HER, NOTHING MORE THAN THAT. VOLUMES ARE STORED WITHIN THAT WEIRD GUY AND LIKE GUHHHHHHHHHHHH
IN MY MINDS EYE HIS PERSONA OF MASCULINITY IS HEAVILY TIED TO TIRED MISOGYNISTIC IDEAS OF WOMEN JUST BEING THERE FOR SEXUAL CONQUEST AND THAT IN TURN FEEDS HIS EGO
IT IS FACKING HUGE FOR HIS CHARACTER THAT HE CARES MORE ABOUT HER FEELINGS AND DOING THINGS RIGHT N TAKING SHIT SLOW THAN JUST GETTING LAID AND ITS BOTH BIG FOR HIM GROWING AS A PERSON WITHIN HIS MISOGYNY AND ALSO HIS TOXIC MASCULINITY ETC
HE HAS TO HAVE HAD A DEEPER REASONING TO DO ALL THE SHIT HE DID THAN "HOT",MAN.
I LIKE 2 BELIEVE THAT WORKING MORE WITH MISS PAULING AND TREATING HER AS AN EQUAL IN THE TEAM POST MEET THE DIRECTOR ALLOWS HIM TO SEE MORE OF HER AND SHE BECOMES A HUMAN BEING 2HIM INSTEAD OF JUST A OBJECT AND HE BEGINS TO GARNER DEEPER EMOTIONS..
//2me scout is if the american psycho was both just some dude and also if he had the capacity to just take a fuckin pill like. im way blowing shit out of proportion to what im supposed to read from but im just throwing every thought around who give a fuck like. i think in terms of the chicken girl and the assumed other women like her like the sex would be shit on account of. its not really about any feeling or want in particular so much as just a way to feel like hes portraying The Guy as well as possible. you know what i mean. him starting to want a deeper connection than superficial bullshit is mega humongous and it speaks volumes to the importance of his love for her to his character. you know. Do you understand. //
LIKE FUCK
THATS ALSO WHAT FUCKS ME UP SO BADLY ABOUT HOW HE TALKS ABOUT HIS LOVE FOR PAULING TOO
LIKE ITS NOT JUST HIM TRYING TO WEAR HER DOWN ,
HE GROWS OUT OF HIS SHIT.
THE WHOLE POINT WAS THAT HE SEES HER AS A PERSON AND DEVELOPS A DEEP RESPECT FOR HER AND HER OWN CHOICES . WAITING FOR HER TO LOVE HIM BECOMES SECONDHAND TO THE IMPORTANCE BECOMES THE CONNECTION HE HAS TO HER REGARDLESS OF WHAT IT IS. I CANT LIKE. COME ON YALL
its okay. im letting peace into my mind. scout is just a silly man and i never even care about fiction to much at all and. florence isnt a shit name for miss pauling i was just mad :,( .though she will always be faline to me because her cuteness :)
//i was right about scout being dilf material though so i take the w on that one//
I like to think Scout and Flo Pauling eventually get together in the future, it's just they weren't ready at the time since Scout was immature and Flo had too much going on mentally to pursue any relationship.
like the thing is tha y scouuts hole character axrc is abput growing 2 undetaymad this and underatnad her serspective and waiti but they dont ducki g rite that cuz who gaf idek man
they shoulve hirwd me as lead scoutpauling xonsultant i couldve saved tf2 comic 7
#tf2 spoilers#ask#rainysnow#tf2#tf2/ scout#tf2/ pauling#scoutpauling#i never want to be the type of guy that rants on main like this but this development awoke the dog in me#my dear asker you have never hurt me this is literally just me tacking on my shit to this cuz it relates and i dont wanna make a whole post#on itself cuz i dont want to put this into tags#^that said the search function yields rbs now oh well :(#// also i am incapable of writing big posts without heavy stimulants because i consistently weave my way through everything that is#not the point of what im trying to say#so my bad#andy rambles#tf2 headcanons#<- i guess? does it count when you are looking canon and the eye and going. yes you are wrong#i mean sort of#sometimes it can be true#who even care#i have more to talk about that on account of scoutpauling arc in my brain but ive spoken enough probs#i shouldnt be allowed 2 write posts#ALSO THIS IS NOT A SCOUT HATE POST. I LOVE HIM AND HES A GOOD BOY AND I TAKE HIS BRAIN APART AND LOOK INSIDE HE IS MY POOKIE TO THE END#i dont even know who this post is for and i think i talked in circles too much but i hope you like my brainworms#said this 1000 times 2 others ive yapped to but i think a big problem also was just it tried to tie up his character in a too hamfisted#way? like they wrote it in a believable in-character voice at least but also it just read too much like scott pilgrim in the anime saying#it was a bad to date knives. im just very normal about toxic male characters and it felt unnecessary n more like speaking to the audience#than interacting with what happened in a meaningful way but excuse the yapping. also pls dont mince my words#women arent responsible 4 bad men. sex isnt evil n u dont need romantic attraction 2 be nice. u know i am not saying this cuz ur smart#fighting against tag limits this is ok 2 rb
22 notes · View notes
h4m1lt0ns · 1 year ago
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꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ pairing ︴lewis hamilton x singer!wolff!y/n
꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ genre ︴social media au
꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ summary ﹔lewis keeps lurking under y/n’s posts, so y/n posts the hardest yet softest launch known to man
꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ face claim ﹔madison beer
꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ warnings ﹕cussing, fluff
y/nwolff
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♡ liked by y/ntheeicon, lewishamilton and 4,294,293 more.
y/nwolff i miss u paris
492,203 comments.
username MOTHERRRRRRR
username the first photo 🧎🏽‍♀️🧎🏽‍♀️🧎🏽‍♀️
username I WANT YOU SO BAD
username you’re soOoOoo–
username MY WIFE 🤞🏽😩
username my crush on you gets worse by the day
username WE NEED YOU BACK IN THE PADDOCK
username mommy? sorry, mommy? sorry. MOMMY???
username pls say ur attentending the next gp, we miss u bro 😭
mercedesamgf1 we miss you around baby boss ☹️ 💗
➜ y/nwolff i NEED to see u guys 😭🖤
username you’re literally the prettiest girl alive i swear
username new music when 🧐
username LANA DEL RAY CODEDDDDD
lewishamilton 🤩😍🤩
lewishamilton no one like you
lewishamilton you’re actually so pretty 😍
➜ y/nwolff missing u especially lew 🥺
➜ lewishamilton when are u coming again :(
➜ y/nwolff next week i promise !!
username i have a crush on you miss wolff
➜ username ur just like me fr
landonorris the whole paddock misses u
➜ y/nwolff I CANT WAIT TO SEE U LANDINOOOOO
username my girl my girl my girl 😩
username mineeeeee 😖
username new music when ma’am? we’re starving
username y/n i need new songs like i need air
username 🕯 manifesting new songs 🕯
charles_leclerc i miss you around
➜ y/nwolff i miss u too :’(
➜ charles_leclerc GIVE US NEW SONGS Y/N
➜ y/nwolff DON’T YELL AT ME 😭 IM IN THE STUDIO AS WE SPEAK
➜ username LMFAOOO CHARLES
➜ username SO TRUE BESTIE CHARLES
➜ username oh he’s just like us fr
username charles is so real
username i miss you violating the boys at the gp
➜ y/nwolff me too man, me too.
[twitter]
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y/nwolff
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♡ liked by y/nmercedes, lewishamilton, and 3,194,294 more.
y/nwolff been here for one hour and pops already wants to die 😁
tagged: lewishamilton, mercedesamgf1.
392,103 comments.
mercedesamgf1 welcome back baby boss 🫡
➜ y/nwolff 🖤🤞🏽
lewishamilton u look gorgeous that jacket goes hard
➜ y/nwolff the best taught me
lewishamilton second fit tho 👀
➜ y/nwolff like what u see 🤭
username beautiful, gorgeous, pretty, angelic, iconic, once in a life time, will never be mine, i want her so bad, literally perfect.
username mommy 😩
username i saw u irl earlier and almost dropped to my knees
username YOURE THE MOST BEAUTIFUL PERSON IVE EVER SEEN MY EYES WERE BLESSED
username you don’t understand how down bad i am for you
username where’s the new song 🥲
username the fact that i’ll never be ur girlfriend makes my mental
username GOD WHY CANT U BE MINE
susiewolff we missed you beautiful 🥳💘
➜ y/nwolff u’re my favourite person forever 🤞🏽🖤
➜ lewishamilton i thought i was ur favourite 🥲
➜ y/nwolff you are!!! you’re my special mine
➜ username WHAT
➜ username “SPEICAL MINE” ???
➜ username lewis get in line ur not special to me
➜ username WHAT DO YOU MEANNNN
➜ username Y/N WHAT IS THIS BEHAVIOR
➜ username DAMN LEWIS MOVE
➜ username Y/N YOURE MINE WHAT IS THIS
➜ username WHAT IS GOING ON
landonorris u better come to the mclaren garage
➜ y/nwolff omw rn 🏃🏼‍♀️
carlossainz55 if you don’t come to the ferrari garage charles might kill himself
➜ maxverstappen1 nope, rb garage first
➜ y/nwolff can’t we all hang out in one place 😀
➜ danielricciardo no
➜ charles_leclerc absolutely not, i need my y/n time
➜ landonorris i literally got here before all of you get in line
➜ pierregasly you’re all jokes, y/n tell them i’m first
➜ lewishamilton i’ve been here since 8 am, i’m actually here first
➜ carlossainz55 oh come on mate she’s ALWAYS with you let’s us have her ffs
➜ lewishamilton no.
➜ y/nwolff lew stop it
➜ y/nwolff all of u come see me at catering, it’s either now or never bc dad doesn’t want me to see the rb boys
➜ mercedesamgf1 baby boss, big boss says come to his office 😖
➜ y/nwolff SEE. YALL DONE GOT ME IN TROUBLE. GOD. SOMEONE SAVE ME.
➜ lewishamilton omw 🏃🏾
➜ y/nwolff slay prince charming
username this comment section is making my head spin
username ARE Y/N AND LEWIS-
username loosing my mind, this is the best comment section ever
username these are thee comments to ever
username WHATS GOING ON WITH Y/N AND LEWIS YALL
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lewishamilton
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♡ liked by y/nwolff, mercedesamgf1 and 8,384,290 more.
lewishamilton 🎈 🎂
comments on this post have been limited.
y/nwolff happy birthday lew, i love you <3
➜ lewishamilton i love you more, thank you for everything love 🖤
mercedesamgf1 happy birthday to the goat 🎂
carlossainz55 happy birthday lewis!
louisvuitton 🎈🎈🎈
danielricciardo HAPPY BIRTHDAY LEWWISSS
landonorris happy birthday you icon.
charles_leclerc happy birthday ❤️🖤
pierregasly HAPPY BIRTHDAY LEW !!
susiewolff happy birthday lewis, we love you 💗
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y/nwolff
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♡ liked by lewishamilton, pierregasly and 10,382,582 others.
y/nwolff look at us, you and i back at it again. happy birthday to you lewis. lewis, the love of my life, and the only man i’ll ever post on my page because other wise it’s paid promo. i’ve loved you since the very first moment i laid eyes you and i will always love you. you’ve always been the kindest, and just the sweetest person i’ve ever come across, you’re the brightest light in the room like the lightening that illuminates the sky in the darkest nights. my one and only love, the one i’ll always look forward to seeing at the beginning and end of all my days. my baby and my darling angel, you’re the faint sun rays through the window when the sun begins to rise and the bright moonlight when the moon is full in the sky, you’re the shinning eyes of a little kid that got their favourite candy and and the intoxicating scent of freshly sprayed cologne. you’re the only person who can truly lift me up and make me feel better regardless of what i’m going through and there hasn’t been a single dull moment with you, and i hope it stays this way. you’re the inspiration that makes an artist smile from ear to ear with excitement and the glowy beautiful snow flakes that fall every winter. you’re the laughter that bubbles insides visitors at disneyland and the answer to ‘what is love?’. you’re every thing i could ever ask for and more; and there’s nothing that i wouldn’t do to be able to love you for a lifetime. forever always sounded like a long time, but i would give up everything if i get a forever and then some with you. i love you. i will always, always love you. always.
with that being said, northern lights (lewis’ song) is out now, available on all streaming sites.
985,285 comments.
username LANA DEL RAY LYRICS?? OH THEYRE IN THIS LOVE SHIT FOR LIFE
username i just fell down the stairs.
lewishamilton wow.
username ahahaha i’m so normal abt this !!!! ahahHHAAHHA
charles_leclerc lewis is crying
➜ lewishamilton liar
➜ carlossainz55 it’s fine we’re all crying with you
➜ username LMFAO CHARLES
username OH MY GOD WHAT THE HELL
username CRYING BECAUSE WHAT 😃
username THEYRE DATING ??? OH MY FUCK THEYRE DATING.
username Y/N STAND UP THIS ISNT YOU YOURE MINE 🥲
username “the only man i’ll ever post otherwise it’s paid promo” poetic hilarity.
username IVE OFFICIALLY CRACKED.
username TEARSSSSSS 🥹🥹🥹
username THIS IS SO CUTE IM CRYING 🥺🥺
username “you’re the faint sun rays through the window when the sun begins to rise and the bright moonlight when the moon is full in the sky” Y/N OH MY GOD
username oh. oh she really loves him huh.
lilymhe crying this is adorable, what’s not adorable is that she was my wife first.
➜ lewishamilton your wife?
➜ lilymhe did i stutter?
➜ y/nwolff omg babygirl i’m blushing stop 🤭
➜ lewishamilton she is mine, lily, goodnight.
➜ username okay possessive king
username I WANT LOVE LIKE THIS
username bUT WE HAVE KIDS Y/N-
username [crying violently]
username “brighter than the northern lights, you’re in every colour” SOBBINGGGGG
username THE SONGGGGG BRO THE SONG
username I WANT A SONG DEDICATED TO ME TOO
username the fact that we just have to find out abt releases is hilarious, no schedule, no nothing
username “like paintings in a picture frame there’s only you i see right now” Y/N WOLFF, YOU DID IT AGAIN.
username MY PARASOCIAL RELATIONSHIP IS GONE 💔💔💔
landonorris repulsive, done beautifully. adorable even.
lewishamilton okay maybe i am crying 😕🖤
mercedesamgf1 were in tears this is everything ����❤️
mercedesamgf1 the grid’s power couple 🤞🏽‼️
mercedesamgf1 big boss says the song is beautiful
➜ y/nwolff YESSSSSSS 🥳🥳
➜ username toto is just like us fr
lewishamilton thank you for giving me the opportunity to love you for the past three years my love and i’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me. i love you 🖤
➜ y/nwolff i love you more than love itself
➜ username GODDDDDDDDD
➜ username ME WHENNNN UR HONOR
➜ username THREE YEARS ??!?:&/&;&/
➜ username i can’t anymore
username 😭😭😭😭😭
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3K notes · View notes
angelic--kitty · 6 months ago
Note
hi!!!!
oh my god as soon as i read the arlecchino post i followed immediately. if you see the notifs you probably know who i am but-
i saw that requests are open so could i request a black swan fic? 👉🏾👈🏾
-🐙
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❝ 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖙𝖗𝖚𝖊 𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖇𝖊𝖎𝖓𝖌 ❞
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dom!black swan x sub!fem reader
warnings: smut (minors/ageless blogs dni), wlw content, cunnilingus, finger sucking
a/n: hi there!! thank you for all the sweet tags on your rb 😁 also, i recognize you from my old blog haha. you're very sweet, and i'm glad to see you again! ♡
dividers from @saradika-graphics
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"aren't you such a pretty girl, hm?" she grins, resting her chin on her fist, the other occupied by petting your head repeatedly.
her thighs stay spread, your own hands holding them open while your lips wrap around her clit. she sighs, nails digging into your scalp when your tongue laves over her sensitive nerves.
"mmm, you're doing so good for me, sweetie." she laughs, tossing her head back with a soft moan when you whine into her cunt. "hah- so desperate. it's adorable."
she watches with adoration as you practically worship her pussy, treating her as if she was your aeon. how delightful you were, indeed. it was her favorite thing about you. so devoted to her.
her hips grind onto your tongue, holding your head steady as she uses you to chase her pleasure. "that's- it- ah- stay still for me-!" she sighs, moans turning breathy the closer she gets to the edge.
tears prickle at the corners of your eyes, wanting so desperately to please her as you watch her ride your tongue.
when she cums, it's messy, spilling onto your tongue, smearing over your chin and cheeks, leaving a glossy finish on your skin. she pants, relaxing into her chair slowly, hand falling away from your head.
she laughs softly, out of breath as she pets your cheek, lifting your chin to look at the mess she's left on you. "so pretty like this." she sighs, swiping her thumb across your skin to collect the slick before sliding it into your mouth.
the way you instantly wrap your tongue around the digit makes her heart skip a beat. your mouth felt so warm and soft, tongue covered with her essence.
you look up at her with a sweet expression, begging for more praise. "oh, don't be greedy. you did well, you'll get your reward soon." she chastises, sliding her thumb a little deeper. "you should get started on slicking my other fingers up. make it a little easier for me to reward you."
182 notes · View notes
chososcamgirl · 8 months ago
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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏: pick a struggle
#𝐂𝐀𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐅𝐄
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m.list | next
fun facts !
ᡣ𐭩 maki has a spare key to the boy’s apartment for times like these.
ᡣ𐭩 toge loves to openly flirt with you because it’s a bit you guys had back last summer.
ᡣ𐭩 yuta is a cafe FEIN and is always on the lookout to find the perfect cafè
ᡣ𐭩 when ‘big back’ was popularised everybody in the group called panda that because well.. he is one.
a/n: first chapter eee !! this is sm fun to make and i hope you guys enjoy! will be posting everyday around similar times ! likes n rb r appreciated sm !! love u all ty for the support so far <3
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⋆# ₊˚⊹ ᡣ𐭩
synopsis ; the season of sun-kissed oceans and golden-hued moments is before you! however being a broke college student is not an ideal look to have, especially at your age. desperately seeking solace from financial woes, you and your bestfriend stumble upon an unexpected opportunity - a cat cafe. crafting lattes and pampering purring patrons seems easy enough, right? that fantasy lasts about one day before reality claws in.
🏷️taglist: @coquetteslvt @aliventboo @izakyun @luvvmae @tuihiatus @soonajeeme @ascybous @rotten1angel @catobsessedlady @myguumi @enhleui @viviennevianna @spacebaby1 @iheartlinds @haikyuu-tothetop @mua-for-now @waytootiredforthisss @j2upiters @sillygoose3082 @rixo-19 @par4disee @punkhazardlaw @kenmasabg @jotarohat @packsvlog @luvvly11 @gumiiiiezzzz
* if i cannot tag you please change your mentions to everyone. if you want to be removed from the taglist just comment or let me know otherwise !! ^.^
195 notes · View notes
prettyboykatsuki · 2 years ago
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HOW TO BE A DOG. | S. GOJO | PART 2
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⊹ general tags ; fem + afab!reader, reader presents femininely and has some specific character traits (i.e. personality traits, nothing physical), reader is shorter / smaller than gojo but nothing specified, reader is a teacher, gojo carries reader at some point (but he is canonly able to do very insane things physically so)
⊹ content warnings ; dead dove. do not eat, yandere gojo satoru, manipulation, stalking, obsessive behavior, delusional behavior, workplace harassment (not from gojo), victim blaming, canon typical violence, graphic depictions of murder, minor character death, excessive religious imagery, coercion, gaslighting, abuse of power, something akin to stockholm syndrome, graphic depiction of noncon / sexual content, forced intimacy, fingering, hickies / bruises, begging, edging, loss of virginity, size kink, 18+.
all sexual content present in this part.
MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING FOR GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF NONCON, COERCION, AND SEXUAL VIOLENCE.
⊹ wc ; 18.4k / 36.1k
link to extended authors note | ao3 | how to be a dog, by andrew kane.
LINK TO PART ONE.
⊹ a/n ; here's part two!! miss ame has read it so im all good to post. i will upload to ao3 as soon as im awake i promise lol. hope you enjoy the fic and please heed the tags. likes and rbs always appreciated. also the last part is, relatively tame. the crazy gets amped up to ten so be careful.
⊹ synopsis ; with six eyes to see it becomes clear, you are being watched.
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"You must learn, once you have sampled the freedom of a life without a chain, that it is better to return and be chained again. Or you may learn that it is not—a fugitive is also a kind of dog." - andrew kane, how to be a dog.
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⊹ PART TWO : SOMETHING TAKEN IS BORROWED. SOMETHING RUINED IS YOURS. 
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Snow is falling outside. The world is covered in white. 
Gojo Satoru sits on his hands and watches the blizzard outside from his window. His apartment is dark and there’s frost on his window. He can hear the wind from inside, and can feel the cold chill of glass as he stands close to it.  
Snow is falling outside. The world is covered in white. Spring feels like an innocent century ago. 
Nothing’s changed, but everything is different. It’s starting to feel comedic. It’s so cyclical. He has two states of being. Being with you, and not. It dictates his internal world. He functions the same as usual. Repetition. Working, coming home, and waiting. 
Gojo feels like he’s waiting. Perpetually waiting for time to set again so he can see you. There’s something in him only you can fulfill - an itch only you can scratch. Gojo is drawn to irreplaceable people, so perhaps it’s no surprise that he’s latched onto you this way. 
There’s nothing to call it other than greed. Sometimes love, but mostly greed. A habit he can’t break free from. Gojo wants to see you. He doesn’t know why either. There’s not any particular reason. Or if there is, he hasn’t examined it too deeply. Gojo has always known in some innate way that he’s lonely. That his loneliness makes him untouchable - but not in the same way it might make a God. 
The thought of doing anything without you makes paranoia creep up in his throat like bile. Gojo is that sort of lonely. Is it too much to ask to be next to someone, who never goes anywhere he can’t see? Monopolizing your time and all the ways to do it best take up most of his energy. 
When was the last time anyone made him feel warm, in the cold white of winter? He thinks maybe he realized it too late, that he cares about you this much. 
The reality is that Jujutsu Sorcerers are better off learning how to cut their losses. You love people and they die. You like people and they die. Gojo doesn’t think he can accept that from you so easily. He doesn’t think he should have too.
Does he need a good reason to want to keep you?
Gojo doesn’t want to make you hate him. He just wants to make sure you’re alive even if it means you might hate him. You might never understand either. Because you are still foolish, naive and human. Is that really asking for so much?
It makes him hesitate from the call to action. That instinct in his bones. He sees having met you as a blessing from the Heavens who’ve banished him. Gojo Satoru is not god. He understands God, but he’s not God.
No matter how much Gojo reaches for omnipotence, his long fingers can’t stretch towards it. Godliness is uninhabitable, an abandoned house. If Gojo casts his eyes on you for more than one second, he can do nothing but long. How can God long? Perhaps if he were more godlike, he could treat your inevitable death like a sacrifice. A martyrdom, or proof of your undying love for him.
Despite that, he understands how God's love can reach. Inciting violence to bring you closer to him is merciful. It’s only then you’ll come to understand it to the highest extent. That Gojo loves you after all, more than anything mortal in his world. He can hold all of you in his hands, keep you safe for the rest of your life. It’s what he wants so badly. If you just give him the chance to protect you - he could do it so easily. 
Religion can be so much like a dog and its master. Maybe, you could understand Gojo’s feelings if you saw it as an animal instinct to protect you. Even if it’s a falsity, a fictitious tale, detached from what's true. 
He doesn’t want you to hate him. He’s your watch dog, your keeper, your divine love. He needs you all to himself and he needs you to understand that you’re his reprieve. That in a universe decided by fate, the two of you are also red strings knotted together perversely. 
He needs you. He needs you. He needs you. 
Snow is falling. 
__
Come Saturday, Gojo receives a knock on his door. 
He’s usually sleeping in on the weekends, so he’s startled by it. School doesn’t start till later and if it was an emergency relating to sorcery - Yagi would’ve dialed him personally. He answers the door with sleep still in his, rubbing his eyelids as he yawns. He’s dressed in his P.J.’s with his hair messy and mind jumbled. 
He’s not unhappy though, when he opens the door up to see you. You’ve got something in your arms, a bag it looks like and a look on your face that Gojo can’t decipher. 
“Oh,” He says after registering who he’s talking to you “What’re you doing here so early?” 
You sigh, deeply, rubbing your arm. That anxious little habit again, your eyes darting every which way.
“A pipe broke in my apartment. Like, flooded the whole thing. Spent the whole morning scrounging my stuff together a-and I called maintenance but they won’t be here for a while and.” You stutter as you explain yourself and Gojo stares at you in confusion “I need a place to stay but going back to my parents right now is gonna be so hard and plus there’s work,” 
Gojo soothes you silently, putting a hand up. 
“Hey, calm down,” He says first, smiling up at you. He reaches out to pat your head “I’m here. It’s okay. Slow down and tell me what's wrong?” 
You sigh, closing your eyes and bracing yourself. 
“Would it be alright if I stayed with you? Just for a few days, until I figure this all out?” 
If God exists, maybe this is his way of giving Gojo grace. Gojo takes a minute to pretend, leans against his door frame and watches you fidget anxiously. He blinks at you, the way your teeth are pressing into your lip. You fold underneath the pressure of his gaze easily. He hums and haws.
“Hm,” He says, leaving you uncertain for as long as he can before you try to react. He’s memorized all your tells by heart “Well, there’s no reason not to, right? You’ll have to sleep in my bed though.” 
He half-jokes, but not really. He waits on your reaction. 
“Oh, uhm, then,” 
He interrupts just then, raising his voice. You jump back. 
“Just kidding! Of course you can stay with me. I’ll take the couch for a few days so don’t worry your pretty little head about it, okay? Stay as long as you like.” 
You look relieved. It makes Gojo smile a bit watching you take a deep breath, leaning on the door frame as he stares. 
“What?” You ask when you notice. He shakes his head. 
“It’s cute when you get nervous,” He says, inhibitions lowered. You pout at him and Gojo has to stop himself from reaching forward to grab your face in his hands. 
“You’re so mean,” You say with a sigh, arms crossed over your chest “I was really freaking out just now,” 
“I know, I know - but it’s kinda fun watching you fuss. Dunno. Maybe it’s cause I’m sleepy,” 
“You're wide awake right now!” You point out. He snorts. 
“Noo, what? I’m half-asleep right now,” 
“Gojo,” You whine, and he has to stop the blood rushing through his body “Let me in? Please?” 
“Try Satoru. Sa-to-ru,” He says. You frown at him, sighing as you rub your face. 
“Satoru,” You say, hardly getting the syllables out “L-let me in,” 
He pats your head one more time as your frown deepens. 
“Good girl,” He purrs, before switching his tone to a more lax one as he welcomes you “Come on in!” 
Another sigh of relief. Gojo finds it fascinating that you can find relief in his presence. It speaks to how well he’s been doing to make sure he’s acting in accordance to expectations. Despite how easy the opportunity has fallen into him, he doesn’t think it’s time yet. You’re still skittish.
Still, he should get something out of your stay here. And he will, but he should let you settle in first. He gives you a hum as you shuffle inside, standing awkwardly in his living room. He shuts the door behind you and locks it up. 
“Don’t be so stiff,” He says, waving a hand in the air before yawning “My home is your home. Be comfortable. Is there anything you need or wanna do?” 
“Could I borrow your shower?” 
Gojo feels something pressing into his ribs at the idea of you using his things  - sharp and sinful. 
“I was gonna shower this morning but, y’know.” You gesture vaguely. He’s quick to agree of course, nodding his head as he points in the general direction of the bathroom.
“Pretty sure our places are built the same so you should know where it is. The towels on the rack are all clean. Feel free to use anything in there and uhhh,” He scratches his head unsure of what else he needs to add. Though he’s certain he’s missing something “Oh, and I’ll give you some clothes,” 
You flush at the sentiment. So maybe you do know what this seems like, at least on the surface. Gojo peers at you as you turn his words over, interjecting before you have a chance to refuse. 
“Don’t say no,” He says, voice sing-songy. watching your expression morph into something nervous again. Maybe you caught it, because you certainly jump in your skin, but he switches into himself with ease.  Over and over and over - startling you never gets less fun “Let me play out my domestic fantasies a bit as compensation,” 
“That’s a bad joke,” You say, throat thick.
 You want to trust him don’t you? He wants to praise you for that. 
“Aw, c’mon. It’s lonely. Let me indulge a little,” He begs with enough lightheartedness that you don’t run away. 
“Geez. I thought you were popular with the ladies,” You try and joke back, though it’s stilted and awkward. He can tell you’re getting prepared to squeeze to the  bathroom before the conversation is too much. 
“Old ladies do love me,” He says contemplative. You elbow him lightly. 
“Stupid.”
He gives you a soft smile as you pass by him.
“Is there anything else that you need while you’re in there?” 
“I don’t think so,” You reply back. Gojo watches you disappear into the hall, trailing after you silently. He waits, listening carefully for the sound of the shower to turn on. 
When the water rushes, he follows you. 
He almost has a conscious standing in front of the closed door. The water pressure in his apartment is a little higher than it’s supposed to be. The closed walls keep all the noise inside them, making it almost impossible to hear what’s going on outside. Even with heightened senses like him. 
For someone like you, it’s probably impossible. 
It’s knowing that he follows behind you, lying in wait. He counts up to 5  minutes as he waits, letting you settle into it before he puts his hand on the door knob. He finds it unlocked. He’s pleased with that. 
You trust him, or you try too. 
When he feels certain you’re relaxed, he opens the door. He could teleport in but it’s noisy. Steam plumes outward as the door opens. He looks around the bathroom. Your clothes are folded neatly, with your pants hanging on the rack next to you. 
He stares at the fabric for a long time, contemplating what he has time for. 
Ultimately, he suppresses whatever urges come up to do what he came for. Too many to count and even more that are risky to act on. Instead, he checks the tags of each piece, committing it to memory. After, he stares at the shower curtain until he’s sure he overstayed his welcome. 
He leaves right after though, shutting the door just as quietly as he opened it. 
The less you know the better. Gojo makes his way back into the living room. 
He sits on his couch when he’s back. The sun hasn’t come up yet and he’s only turned on a single lamp for light. It’s hard for him to describe how he’s feeling. Things have been different for weeks now, but proceeding normally hasn’t caused him too many issues. Strangely the sense of routine has been grounding. 
He’s been dealing with it better than he expected. For all of that restraint to unravel so quickly is funny.
 But, Gojo thinks, that everything leading up to now must’ve been a sign. There are so many instances that befall him that feel aligned with fate. He’s naive in thinking you're different. He’s the only heir of the Gojo clan, the only one with the Six Eyes for nearly 400 years. He hears the water rush faintly through the walls of his apartment, picturing you trapped in those four walls. He thinks of how you met. Your proximity to each other.
It’s only now and in such circumstances does he think that you’re the due that the universe is paying back to him. Robbed of everything, of every joy he’s ever had - it’s both righteous and fair to take you. Gojo doesn’t want you to hate him. Not necessarily. 
But they always say in sickness and in health. Through the best of times and the worst. If you were made for him like he suspects (like he knows, believes deep down) then he thinks it’ll be fine. As long as it's you. As long as it’s yours. Even if you cry or scream, what matters to Gojo is that it’s yours. That he’s yours. 
Holding back is starting to be too much. Gojo’s never been the type to sit on his hands and wait. Being scared is so much like starving. Deprivation like that always threatens to turn Gojo to ruin. 
But like anything he does though, he can’t take the easy way out. There’s a method to the madness. An order even among his most disorderly actions, there’s things that need to be done the right way for the best possible outcome. On less of a whim than it seems, Gojo decides that he’ll do his best to make that reality happen. 
The thought settles in his body and suddenly he’s present again. He feels a pang of hunger in his stomach, causing him to stand to his feet. He feels lighter as he waltzes into the kitchen, whistling to himself on what he should make. Maybe crepes? He’s not a skilled cook but he’s pretty good at making those. 
At the very least, he thinks you’ll like them too. He proceeds into a normal-ish routine. He follows the motions of making breakfast as he hums to himself silently. Grabs a bowl from the cupboard, eggs and milk from the fridge, and flour from the pantry. 
He thinks to himself, immersing himself in the practical ritual. His comment from earlier about domestic fantasies was a half-joke at best. Gojo really does want to do this kind of thing with you, and he doesn’t want to miss the opportunity to play the part either. Even if it’s temporary. He’s giddy at the thought of doing this with you everyday, a warm fluttery feeling spreading through his body. 
He grabs a whisk off of the wall as he dumps everything into an empty bowl, turning the heat of a non-stick low. He whistles a song he can’t remember the name of, cracking an egg on the metal edge. 
Despite living in a nicer part of Tokyo, Gojo has yet to have an induction stove top. It’s not uncommon to have gas for smaller, cheaper apartments. Most of the stovetops in the Jujutsu Tech dorms are gas and Gojo has no issue using them. He doesn’t cook for himself often in the first place, so he’s never thought to complain about it or get it changed. 
Maybe he should. Once you live here, it might get inconvenient. The thing about gas stoves is that they never heat evenly. It’s not impossible to work with, and the heat is easier to control - but induction lets every inch of the pan get hot the same way.
( He often thinks of the analogy for boiling a frog. If you put anything living in heat too directly, it’ll jump to save itself. But if you keep the heat tepid, gently raising the heat till it boils - it’ll let itself stay in the treacherous waters until the very end. It’s best to keep the heat even. It’s best to fix it sometime soon. )
The whisk makes a pleasant sound as it hits the bowl, metallic scratch softened by the presence of batter. He picks the whisk up and watches the yellow liquid drip off the edge, a hand over the pan. Still too cool to the touch, he clicks his teeth. 
He waits, idly. The shower turns off, he hears, and feels his breath hitch. He has to steel himself, curb his enthusiasm. 
Too much heat, and you’ll jump to save yourself. 
Once the pan is hot enough, Gojo busies himself with cooking.  It helps him distract himself, the monotony of pouring and flipping and waiting. He gets through almost 6 before he hears your feet pad gently across his hardwood floor, slipping into the kitchen with a towel wrapped around your neck.
You’re wearing what seems like the only clothes you managed to bring. Gojo wonders how long it’ll last you. Despite it, he notices the way you smell. How you smell like all of his fancy bath products and soaps. There’s a twitch in his sweats that he barely gets under control. He lowers the heat and turns to you. 
“Morning,” He says. You giggle a little. 
“Morning. Are you making breakfast?” 
“Yes ma'am. The only thing I know how to make but,” He puffs his chest up “Pretty good, I’m told.” 
You roll your eyes at him, but smile anyway
“Guess I’ll be the judge of that,” 
“The audacity,” He says, full of theatrics “I’ll knock your socks off,” 
“Oh, I’m sure you will,” You say, flippant and giggly. Gojo decides then, maybe, in its entirety. That he’ll have all of you and soon “Can I help with anything?”
“Get started on some coffee maybe,” 
You nod your head and yawn. 
“Sounds good to me,” 
__ 
You decide to stay for a week. 
More precisely, Gojo convinces you to stay for a  week. That’s how long it will take for your apartment to get fixed completely. Concerned about inconveniencing him, you initially suggested 3 days - insisted you could find somewhere else or pay for a hotel for the rest of the time.
But Gojo insisted too. A week is more than fine (even longer would be better) and there’s no reason for you to go out of your way. Hotels are expensive, your parents live out in the countryside, and it’s not like you can’t board with a friend for a few days right? 
But won’t that trouble you? Of course not. Gojo doesn’t mind at all. It’s like having a week-long sleep-over. 
I don’t have the stuff I need. That’s fine. Gojo can take care of it. He already bought some clothes for you, an act of kindness. He can get the rest too. You can consider it a favor, if you really want to be sure. 
Are you sure? Of course he’s sure. More than sure. You’re doing him a big favor, he assures with nothing but affection. Being alone at home is pretty boring, anyways. What’s sleeping in the same room when we’re neighbors? 
Even with your unease, you agree to stay the whole week. You’re weak to being convinced, and hard-pressed on not fighting about things Gojo is adamant on. 
(He’d be stupid not to notice how your earnesty makes you easy to exploit. It’s a good thing it’s only Gojo who knows.) 
The first day passes quietly. You and Gojo go to your respective jobs and greet each other when you get home. At home, things are simple. Domestic. There’s no other way to view it. You graded papers and looked over lesson plans in the living room while Gojo got in his daily sets - TV playing in the background with neither of you particularly tuned in. Gojo sleeps on the couch. 
(He doesn’t make it a day without touching himself. The proximity is too much, too stimulating, and even with all of the restraint in the universe - it’s hard for him to stave it off.  What you don’t know can’t hurt you. Alone under the moon, he thinks of what you look like when you’re embarrassed and spills into his hand. 
Eventually, he’ll graduate to watching over you. You leave the door unlocked because you’re naive and Gojo stands with his cock in his fist, watching intently. You squirm in your sleep but you sleep deeply - because despite all the noise, you don’t stir one even once. He stops it from touching you, so close to your mouth, to your skin. ) 
On the second day of living together, the clothes Gojo bought you come to his door. You’re not home when it arrives, so he waits until you are home to open it with you. You come home a little later than usual (parent-teacher conferences, apparently). 
(“I have a surprise for you!” Gojo says, as finally comes back into the living room. You’ve returned from your shower, on  your last pair of PJ’s. You blink at him softly, tilting your head to one side as he hands you a package. 
“For me?” You ask. Gojo nods, grinning. 
“For you,” He confirms. He walks with you as you set the box onto the coffee table. You stare at it for a minute, glancing up at Gojo. Your eyes search for your keys. Once you find them, you take the sharpest key and rip through the tape on the top of its sides. An unceremonious krrk sounds through the room, echoing in the dimly lit living room. 
The clothes are wrapped in white, plastic packaging. You pick them individually, examining them closely. You look at Gojo again, more uncertain than before.
But Gojo shakes his head, nudging you towards opening the packages themselves. A promise to explain afterwards, silent in the air. You nod, confused, but do as he suggests. You rip the top open, dropping the thin plastic onto the table. More bags, this time clear. You repeat the action until the material flounces in your hands. You undo the careful folding for a minute, then stare at it. 
“...Clothes?” You repeat. 
“Surprise!” He says with his usual silly cadence “For you, free of charge.” 
A lot of things pass over your expression. Gojo watches each of them carefully, amused. He wonders what you’ll do. What you’re thinking, it’s a shame Gojo can’t read your mind.
“How’d you know my size?” You say first, inquisitive but not accusatory. Gojo shrugs. 
“Guessed. We’ve spent enough time together,” He says noncommittally. Your face changes, like you don’t quite believe him. But there’s not enough there for you to question him either. He can almost hear you narrate it in your head. The heart you wear on your sleeve, tender red and bleeding, thumps anxiously as you try to get a read on him. It’s not a sound he dislikes. 
He’s been good to you. He’s just being nice. You shake your head, regretful of your own doubt for a minute. You force a smile, and Gojo doesn’t hate it even though he knows where it comes from. 
The power of love, he thinks almost whimsically. 
“This is a big box. How much stuff did you even get?” You repeat, noticing the contents are up to the top. He feigns indifference. Pretends not to know that he spent countless hours looking over it. 
“Mm, dunno. Just whatever I thought you’d need.” 
“I’m only here for a week, Gojo.” You mutter, hands grazing over the cardboard edge.
“So? Maybe you need a lot of stuff. I don’t know what women go through.” He says with a pout, lips together. Joking with you to lighten the mood, which makes you huff through your nose. 
“You’re so dumb. It’s too much stuff,”
“I already bought it and I don’t feel like returning it,” He tells you, making it clear he’s not going to negotiate “Just think of it as a gift from Santa Claus.”
You snort. 
“You even have the hair,” You reply. Trying to make yourself feel better in the process, Gojo gives you a half smile “Still. I feel like I’m really indebted to you, lately.” 
“Yeah? You can count this week as one big favor, if that makes it easier.” 
“I don’t remember Santa doing favors for people,” You quip. Gojo laughs. 
“Change in management,” 
You laugh a real laugh at that, and Gojo watches you turn the situation over again and again. 
“Well. Thank you. Might as well look through the rest of it, huh?” 
“Take your time,” Gojo says, before checking the digital clock on his wall “I need to go get something from the store. Just leave the empty stuff next to the trash and I’ll take it out tomorrow morning.” 
“Oh, okay. Yeah. I’ll start on dinner. See you, Gojo.” 
“Yeah. See you” ) 
If you notice all the clothes come in shades of blue, you’re smart enough not to say anything. 
The third day passes in a blur. Nothing notable, but he’s content. You wear the clothes Gojo bought you and he’s careful not to stare while you know. He takes it upon himself only to do it when he knows you’re asleep, his nightly routine staring over the bare inches of your body in a dark room being a reprieve of his other desires. 
On the fourth day, he doesn’t have the restraint not to touch you. Too many days in the same room and he wants access to everything already. He hates being patient more than he thought, but there’s a method to this - he has to remind himself. 
Like taking out his aggression, he decides he needs more relief. Something to scratch the itch. With his infinity, you can’t feel his fingers ghosting over your legs. He checks if you’re wearing the other stuff he bought, settled at the bottom of the box. Not lingerie, but panties. Plain and cottony - white over your cunt as you sleep with your leg hiked up. Gojo knows you can’t feel him now, but part of him wants you too. He wants to know why you’re wearing them despite yourself. Gojo realizes too late that he’s interested in your misery just as much as he is everything else, and so far - that discovery has made everything all the more difficult. 
On the fifth day, things proceed the same. There’s a routine you’ve settled into together despite the time limit on it. That night over dinner, you and Gojo spend time together. There’s not really much to do - it’s a Friday. It’s the first time neither of you are completely occupied with any one task. 
You get to talking like that. On the fifth day, Gojo gets as close to opening up as he’s ever gotten in his life. Part of him isn’t sure why he does it. He thinks he’s seeking confirmation for something, but what that could be is lost on him. 
(“So, you’re the only person left in your clan?” You ask, half-way through a glass of tea he’s sure has gone cold by now. The T.V. is on but muted. Gojo looks at you in the low lights, fighting his own sleep.
“Mhm. Technically, I’m the sole heir.” He replies.
“...Is it okay to ask what happened?” 
Gojo laughs at you. You really can’t help your curiosity, but he still finds it amusing.
“It’s not a pretty story,” Gojo says honestly. 
“That’s okay,” You say, voice filled with an air of innocence that Gojo has a hard time wrapping his head around. 
“Most of them were wiped out. We had a lot of enemies, me included. A lot of them are dead, the remaining are somewhere far-away and have no combat abilities.” 
“You included?” You pick up on, naturally. Gojo nods and smiles a little. 
“Once I inherited my technique it was pretty commonplace. I went through a lot of assassination attempts,” He yawns in between, because this is an old, boring story “It took a lot of time for me to get strong enough to where I am now. But I got there eventually.” 
“You say that so easily,” 
Gojo peers at the frown on your face and laughs quietly to himself. 
“It was a long time ago, now. I never really had a lot to mourn, except for when I was a teenager. I’m used to it.” 
For a long time, you remain completely silent. Gojo almost thinks you’re going to cry. He doesn’t know how to feel about that. It’s proof of something. Of his ambivalence towards the idea of sympathy. Sure, it’s meaningless now for someone to feel bad for him. It’s a pointless endeavor, because Gojo is a selfish dick and the strongest - and he knows both of those things intimately. He accepts them as part of himself in the same way, he doesn’t know what he’s like without being frivolous. Without being the strongest. The line between misery and character is paper thin and Gojo hasn’t known it since he was born. 
It’s especially pointless for you to feel bad for him, because he’s going to ruin that very innocence you hold in your heart before the week is over. He’s going to do it with purpose and conviction. He won’t feel remorseful about it at all. 
There’s an irony to it. A dramatic irony that brings him closer to Godliness than he’s ever really been. Because Gojo knows that this conversation is confirmation that he needs you, just as much as he knows he’ll do anything to have you even if it means you can no longer look at him like this. 
He wonders how long you’ll hold sympathy for him. He decides for now, there’s no reason to not lean into it. It makes him happy that you care enough to feel sad. Even if it’s pointless. He doesn’t remember the last time someone did. 
Maybe when he was 17.
“You look like you’re gonna cry.” He says lightheartedly. Sincere in a way he hasn’t been in very well over 10 years. You sniffle. 
“How are you not crying?” 
“I never cry.” Gojo says smoothly, not blinking “I’m a heartless bastard.” 
“That’s not true.” You say, almost exclaim, turning yourself to look at him so seriously. It’s cute, he must admit, that you’re so sure on his character “You’re not heartless,” 
“But I am a bastard,” He clarifies, mischievous. And you pout, less eager to correct him on that 
“...You’re not heartless. Clearly.” You say again. Gojo laughs, a real laugh. He can feel it preemptively, how much he’ll cherish every minute of this conversation. He hums. 
“Oho, you almost sound like you’re defending me.” 
“From yourself, I guess. I know you’re not heartless,” You say, with some kind of clarity that you have him figured out. Maybe you do. It’s a little shocking. It’s not usually how this goes “You’re…weird. But you care” 
“That’s true,” Because it is, and Gojo has no reason to lie to you right now. “More than that, I’m hung up on the idea of the future.” 
“Isn’t it usually being hung-up on the past?” 
“Right? Usually, that’d be the case,” Gojo says, unsure of what to express “But the past is the past. I can’t go back to it. My technique is infinity. It means I can see infinite realities.” 
You sound like the winds been knocked out of you “That’s terrifying,” 
“It is. But you know, even in those realities, the past is the past. There are places where the past hasn’t happened. But it can’t be changed. It becomes part of infinity, when events occur. The only thing that can be changed is the future,” Gojo explains, though he leaves out so many intricacies “There’s a future I want to see. I’d like if my students could see it too,” 
“Because of your friend, right?” 
Gojo smiles. 
“Because of my friend. And for less selfless reasons.” 
“Like?” You ask, curious. 
“I like being able to do whatever I want, without consequences. Being strong lets me do that. For now it’s up to me, but eventually, I can raise strong comrades.” 
You’re silent for a while, again. 
“Seems lonely,” You say, simply. Easily. It’s true, and he knows that. It’s the most obvious thing in the world, and you’ve said it with little regard for anything. Almost mindlessly, a natural response to such a sad story. 
Gojo feels it again. Those stifling, pesky emotions that linger in the cavity of his ribs. He can’t bring himself to be honest, because when does he ever? But he does smile again, a little more melancholy than usual. You notice, certainly, but you have the courtesy not to say a word. 
“You think so?” Gojo says, passive and wilfully ignorant “Does it make you wanna hug and console me?”
He offers it sarcastically, but you don’t tear your eyes away from him. It’s almost enough to shake him. Almost. 
“...A little? You feel like a sad dog in the rain.” You say, too honestly.
“Jeez. Maybe you just miss Pokupan. Thinking about another man right in front of me. I can’t believe I’m the other woman,” He says, with a faux pout. 
You laugh, though it’s laced with sympathy. Gojo can tell you want to fuss. That you want to admonish him for being the way he is, and he’s almost willing to let you. That’s just the thing.
 You see Gojo as human, still. 
Gojo Satoru isn’t God. But he isn’t human either. If you want to know how God lives, asking Gojo is always viable. But you shouldn’t mistake false omnipotence for forgiveness, like you are now. You see Gojo for all of his humanity, but you're blind to his divinely violent tendencies. You will be until it’s too late. 
So, Gojo doesn’t think you need to comfort him how you’re thinking you should. Gojo wants you to depend on him. Because coveting you is an affair distinctly inhuman and crueler than even the heavens could be and he believes that you’re owed to him. 
 Gojo wants to protect this version of you, even at the sake of corrupting it. He doesn’t want to let you go ever, for any reason. And he wont. 
He turns the heat up gently. You’re none-the-wiser. The night swallows you both, but Gojo will remain untouched. He’ll hold you when it inevitably spits you back out. When reality washes into you, you should’ve trusted your gut after all. 
For now, he smiles at you. 
“If it’s any consolation, I’d be very sad if you disappeared.” Which Gojo hopes you can interpret without his interference. It seems like you do, because you smile to yourself. 
“Me too,” You reply. Gojo knows he’s going to ruin you. “I’d be really sad if you disappeared, Gojo. So, don’t, okay?” 
And if Gojo were an honest person, or a good one - he’d tell you you’re the last person who should worry about missing him. That you’ll be seeing him for a long time. 
But he’s neither, just like he’s not god or man. He lightens his tone and holds out his pinky, which you link with his. 
“Scouts honor,”
When he’s ready to look away, you pull a bare thread from Gojo’s clothes. Frowning at him, as you dust away the fabric with your hand. He stares at you. 
“What was that?” 
“You had a thread loose,” You say simply, unconcerned with anything “I just pulled it off.” 
Gojo stares. 
“Yeah. Thanks.”) 
The sixth day passes quickly. Gojo doesn’t think there’s anything worthy of saying. By then the routine is so practiced and so constant. The sixth day passes like a shadow in the night, disappearing through the woods before morning comes. A stepping stone. 
Today is the 7th day. 
On the 7th day, things are different. The same but different as they so often are. You don’t have work today, so you do what you’ve been doing. You and Gojo work in proximity to each other, share meals, and idly watch T.V.  
Night falls on the 7th day.
Gojo wants to take part in the act of creation, as the sun dips below the horizon. He’d set this in motion when the week started and now that it’s here - the anticipation is too much to bear. When Gojo Satoru sets himself out to be conqueror, the universe trembles at the sight of him. There’s no sound at all. The night reeks of death, in Gojo’s presence it trembles. Too fearsome to speak. 
Night falls today. Gojo starts his usual routine with less caution than he’s had the previous six. Where he usually bides his time and enters the room carefully - today he merely enters. He places his hand on the silver handle and pushes it open. A breath rushes from his lungs, adrenaline entering his system as he steps inside. His room has felt so unfamiliar to him lately, but like this - a sense of serenity washes over him. 
He stares at you. With his Six Eyes, with vision clear as ever, Gojo looks onto you as you are now. You can never reconstruct a flower crushed under steel boots. You’re not mud or earth, not adaptable like the sea. From the moment he’s met you - Gojo has known you to be so much like a flower. Gojo has never wanted to take the petals off of something so much in his life. 
And Gojo is in this instance, a natural disaster ready to pluck the root of you up from the ground. He’ll pick you up in a storm but return you to his feet. There’s a method to this. Gojo stares at your silhouette wrapped and tangled in his sheets, body so loosely dressed. Your visible figure rests easy. 
The night is glorious and silent. Gojo watches on in some cross of indifference and utter starvation. He blinks, leans on the wall. 
Like a call from fate, you start to stir awake.
Gojo moves towards you. He decides it might be easier just to join you in bed,  so he gently works himself into the sheets.. He creeps towards you slowly, and re-familiarizes himself with the feeling of his bed. It’d be lost on him for a week, but your presence in it makes it feel especially brand new. The bed dips under his weight, creaking. You shift lethargically, turning your head to look at Gojo. 
You look startled once you realize. For the first time in your entire relationship, it seems to dawn on you that something is wrong. Just a minute too late. He gives you a second to wake up. Your breath hitches, a stifled gasp as you greet Gojo’s expression. 
The hunger in his stomach is gnawing. Gojo feels like he’s starving. He thinks doing this will only half-way relieve the urge. This part of Gojo is inhuman as the rest of him. 
Gojo’s presence suffocates you so much in the moment, you can only barely open your lips to say your next words. 
“What are you doing here?” You sound still innocent. Gojo smiles briefly, under the glow of the moon. He can see your expression clearly. Sleep in your vision. A sheerness to your skin that comes with rest. Your bags are packed, and your things are cleared from his bathroom. You’re still wearing the clothes he bought. 
He knows he shouldn’t think it, but some part of him is vindicated. You’re leaving him today and Gojo finds abandonment to be the highest betrayal of them all. So, he’s vindicated. He licks his teeth, usual mirth coming back to him. 
Then he talks, his voice tender. 
“Getting my debts repaid,” And he means it, more than he’s ever meant anything he’s said “You owe me one, remember?” 
It dawns on you. Realization flickers in your eyes before it twists into fear. Gojo wants to encourage it. A curse starts to form, like tendrils around you. You’ll leave it here when you’re gone in the morning and Gojo will have a piece of you left with him. 
“W-what are you…? What do you mean?” 
He’s shrill, almost, leaning close to you. His sudden proximity makes you freeze. You know better, know so clearly it stops you from running. Gojo is tempted to see if you’ll do it. If you’ll run or if you’ll thrash or if you’ll fight. He’s not particularly sadistic, but he likes you - and he’s curious to know what your reaction will be to something like this. 
He eases you into it, He brushes his knuckles over your cheek as your heart sky-rockets like you’re being hunted. Gojo thinks he ought to be gentle with you. Regardless of how this is happening, it’s your first time together. Your fingers tremble as you reach up to grab his wrist. It seems like you’re trying hard to pull him off, and wiggle away from his grip. You ready yourself to give him push back and Gojo times it so that it seems like you’ll be able to break free. 
But Gojo is strong. Stronger than you by a lot, and you know that by now. When he finds that you’re trying to escape him, he’s quick to grab your wrists with his hands. They both fit perfectly in his palms. He pulls them up over your head and your eyes widen as you feel his grip - near bruising (though he is trying so hard to be gentle) on your body. He stares down at you. 
You look so frightened.
“Wh-what are you..?” 
“You owe me one for letting you stay here, right?” He asks enthusiastically, licking his teeth. Your eyes widen “I’ll take this as compensation, okay? It’s a good deal for us both I think,” 
“I don’t,” You squirm underneath him “I don’t—I,” 
“Shh,” He quiets you, humming softly “Don’t overcomplicate it. Just wanna see you,”
Gojo watches you turn it over in your head. He was wondering about this. What’d you do in these circumstances. If you’d act like you always do, pleasant and pliable trying to do what's best. Damage control for what's coming. 
Gojo pulls his hands away to undress you and yours fly to his shoulder blades. You heave as you push, mumbling something about how he doesn’t need to do this. Your expression is grief-stricken. Gojo soothes you. 
“You can bite, scratch, kick, scream - whatever works,” Gojo says, communicating his affection as best he can. He drives his hands under your shirt, laying his palm flat over the skin of your stomach. He runs his thumbs over your sides, committing every inch of you to memory. Without his infinity, Gojo feels every part of you “It’s not gonna hurt me,” 
You look like you’re at a loss for words. He gives you a warm grin. 
“Maybe we’re going about this all wrong,” Gojo says after some thought “Is this your first time?” 
You whimper, nodding meekly. Gojo  groans against your skin. You flinch. 
“Fuck, course it is. Shoulda known. Such a sheltered girl like you,” He adds the last part with a hint of condescension, watching your face curl up into a frown. 
“Didn’t say it was a bad thing you know,” Gojo is careful as he pulls your shirt higher and higher. Your breath is being held, afraid of what’ll happen if you let g.o “We’re tied together like this. Isn’t that nice?” 
“Gojo,” You say, swallowing something. Words that threaten to bubble up that you can’t find the strength to say. You’re not wearing anything underneath and Gojo feels a chill in his spine “Please,” 
“Not wearing a thing even though you’ve been sleeping at a man's house all week,” He reprimands. He lets the material sit over the swell of your chest, just under your neck where it stays. He can see the outline of your tits clearly now, just enough light from the open window to illuminate your skin. Your nipples are hard, heaving. Gojo can hear your little heartbeat thump against your ribs “I’m not telling you off you know? I’m glad you trust me. Great job, on that really. But you really should be more careful.” 
“Gojo,” You plead again, throaty. The sound goes through his system, sends blood rushing to his cock.  
“Satoru,” He insists on, knowing it will take more than that to convince him “I’ll try and listen to your requests if you say Satoru,” 
He doesn’t promise to stop, because he doesn’t think he’d be able to follow up on it. Still, with the level of desperation you show - Gojo thinks it’s worth it to gain something out of. You follow up his request almost instantly, lips wrapping around the syllables with a weak breath. 
“S-Satoru,” 
He gestures to take your shirt off. You’ve become more pliable, if only a little, letting Gojo see all of you completely bare as he tosses his clothes somewhere onto the floor. Shameless in viewing you, your instincts kick in to cover your chest. He clicks his teeth, pushing your wrists together again over your head. 
“That won’t do,” He coos at you softly “I wanna see you. All of you,” 
You hiccup, sobbing, Gojo reaches his palms towards your breasts, cupping them gently. Your nipples rub against his palms and he groans feeling how soft you are. 
“So pretty,” He admires you. Means it. Gojo lets his gaze catch on the edges and curves of you with enthusiasm. Your chest is sensitive to his touch, thumb and forefinger tweaking and teasing your nipples as you remain underneath him obediently. Your eyes look so watery, soft like lilies in freshwater “So cute,” 
“Satoru, please, I don’t—don’t want—” 
“So ungrateful,” He tsks. He smacks your chest lightly, enough to make you squeal “That’s the only request I can’t listen to,” 
You hiccup, looking away. Gojo hums as he hovers over you, seated over your figure. He pulls his mask off from his eyes, material falling into his fingers. Grabbing your wrists with his palms, he wraps the material around them - tight enough to keep you but with enough room so it doesn’t hurt. He places your hands over your head gently, kissing your covered wrists. 
“Don’t squirm too much, ‘kay? Stay like that. I’ll make you feel good.” 
“I don’t,” 
“Hey,” This time he’s stern, and you slink back into yourself. It’s the first time he’s had to use this tone on you and hopefully the last “What’d I say? You owe me this much, don’t you think? After everything I’ve done for you, the least you can do is not turn me away. It’s not like I wanna do anything bad with you, y’know” 
A pang of guilt passes through you. You stop squirming. Gojo keens, baring his teeth as he smiles. 
“Good girl.” He dips his head to kiss the place under your ear, where your neck meets your jaw. He scrapes his teeth on the skin so you can feel his teeth over your pulse “You learn quick.” 
You keep your arms over your head like he’s asked, hesitant and stiff. Gojo can work with that at least. He leans towards you, tipping your jaw so you’re forced to look at him. Tear-eyed and whimpering, a shudder passes through him. 
“So pretty,” He mumbles. He leans forward, presses his lips to yours - hand resting on the base of your neck. You make a noise of indignance but Gojo keeps you there. He eases you into obedience, forcing his tongue in your mouth, grazing the inside of your mouth. 
He swallows every sound you make. Distress and frustration and reluctance lend themselves to giving in  easily. Your body is sensitive to touch, a trail of goosebumps where his hands touch you. On your waist, trying to ease you into it. 
He pulls away from you, a string of saliva connecting you. 
“First kiss?” He asks. You shy away, clamping your mouth shut. Gojo chuckles, teeth nipping at you “Didn’t say it was a bad thing.”
You remain silent, so Gojo fills the space. 
“Mm,” Gojo presses kisses down the curve of your jaw, all the way down your neck where he stops and bites - hard enough for something to be there tomorrow. He undresses the rest of you. You try to resist this time too, but Gojo doesn’t bother putting up a show. It’s easy to overpower you. He tugs your shorts off with your panties and tosses them somewhere. Unceremonious and uncharacteristically impatient. 
He takes his time now that you’re all naked. It’s thrilling to watch distress fill your lungs, a ballooned breath and muffled protest. Gojo sucks hickies into your bare skin. It’s only fair to give you something to look at while you’re departed. Your blood rushes, capillaries breaking under the hardness of his incisors  - ridges pushed against your delicate skin. He licks the bruises afterwards, kisses them tenderly. 
“Gonna be a little sore for a while,” He says warmly. You’ve hit the stage of grief where you’re angry and resilient again but one look from Gojo is enough to make you slink back “Might as well enjoy yourself.” 
Despair flashes in your expression. 
“I mean it, you know.” He offers, stating it like he’s trying to appease you “You should relax a little, let it roll off your shoulders.” 
It seems like you register that Gojo is teasing you. He does mean it, about thinking you should enjoy it. Everything else is deliberate and you know as much. It’s good you’re starting to understand him a little better. 
“Why are you doing this to me?” You ask hoarsely. Gojo is surprised by your question. 
“Ah, it’s a secret, so you can’t tell,” He starts. He squeezes the fat of your chest in his palms, silver tongued and playful “I like things that I can keep.” 
A flash of true horror washes over you and you almost go ragged in realization. Weakened in your resolve once glimmering so brightly, Gojo takes the opportunity to please. He kisses down your sternum, runs his hands across the sides of your chest. He presses this thumb against your hardened nipples, rubbing lightly. Gojo takes them into his mouth. He bites then licks like he licks a wound
It pleases him immensely when you respond. When you gasp in a helpless sort of way and go to cover your mouth in shame. A sense of delight washes over his body and he does it again and again. He teases, changes from sucking harshly to lapping oh-so gently on the skin. Over and over until your voice can longer be contained no matter how hard you try - sharp gasps and cries of desire filling the air. 
When he thinks you’re worked up enough, he slots himself against you and nudges your legs apart. He can feel the heat from your bare skin against his body, clothed. How you tremble underneath him. He eases his hand down gently, fingers trailing down to your pussy. 
You hiccup. A sob of defiance stifled with obvious arousal, forced from you so easily. Gojo laughs. 
“You don’t wanna?” He pricks, intentionally. Gojo lets his middle finger ease along your slit, dragging his digits up and through - catching on your achy clit “Are you sure?” 
It’s torture for you. Of course it is. A pretty, sheltered little thing. It’s your first time with something like this and he’s sure all this is too much for you. Even if you tell yourself you don’t want it, your body can’t refuse him. You can’t either, try as you might. That’s why your legs are spread and why you’re practically dripping for him. Gojo thinks of it as admission. Your clit is hard underneath the pad of his middle finger, as he rubs too light and too gently. 
You cry out, pitchy and broken. Gojo laughs. 
“You need it here,” He punctuates, adding enough pressure that you gasp “Need me to touch you here, hm?” 
You shake your head at first. Gojo tucks himself against your chest, sucking the skin gently. 
“Be more honest.” He encourages a mockery as he so barely presses his finger inside of you - threatening to touch but never doing it “What do you want?” 
“Don’t, I don’t.” You say, or you try. 
“Liar,” He snips playfully against your clavicle “Your pretty little pussy is dripping wet and you want me to believe that?” 
Gojo smacks your cunt softly. Once, then twice, then three times for good measure as you cry. 
“C’mon,” He encourages meanly “Tell me what you really want.”
It’s a sick little mind game that Gojo is having too much fun playing with you. 
“P-please,” You stutter, so unbelievably broken with so little done to you at all. Gojo will take all of you at a later time. When you’re thoroughly pliable and broken and so beautiful all for him “Please.” 
So dependent like Gojo always thinks you should be. 
“Please what, hm? What are you asking for?” 
You swallow thickly. All your dread and doubt and disbelief gone as a sense of real and true need ignites within you. Of course this is too much for you. Gojo overwhelmed you like this on purpose. The resentment of wanting despite it all, despite how miserable you are makes for something so tragically Gojo’s. Whatever you have in your heart will always be for him. Good or bad, ugly or beautiful - like this you are all his and so perfectly too. It’s titillating, the sensation of control that wisps around him. It strikes him like a hammer on hot iron.
Gojo wants you to say it. Wants your selfless  little heart to beg for his mercy this once. You’ll understand some time later, that this is how Gojo loves. Selfish and twisted. Cruel. Intimate beyond mortal comprehension. All of him just for you, just like this. 
Strangely, it's perfect. Gojo teases you some more. Toys with your clit and feels a pool of arousal rush and drip from your sore cunt. He hits it with the palm of his hands as you try to form the words. You tremble in his arms, a vestige of your will to resist. 
You want to resist so badly, he can tell. But it hurts now to leave it alone and you want it despite yourself. It makes you so frustrated you cry. Limp, crystal tears down your face that Gojo licks up nearly immediately. Salty and bitter. Gojo kisses the apples of your cheek, nose nudging your skin. 
“So cute when you give up.” Gojo praises sincerely. You sob somewhere deep inside of your “Be good and be honest. I’ll reward you, hm? How’s that?” 
Gojo can feel the moment you give in completely. When acceptance settles over your hazy and contorted mind. You let the tides take you, curling into yourself.  A sound like you’re in pain even though you’re not hurt. 
“Please touch me.” You whisper, hoarse and defeated. Gojo laughs airy, peppering your face with kisses. You wince. 
“Good girl.” He coos, dipping his fingers down lower and lower. Heel of his palms pressed into your swollen, needy clit “That’s all you had to do. Easy, right?” 
You scowl at him (you try too).
“Open your legs, baby,” 
You listen this time, opening your legs wide enough for him to touch. Your pussy is so wet for him. Sticky and soft like you’ll fall apart, Gojo thinks it feels divine, wants to squeeze and grope and touch until you’re disintegrated. He likes feeling you like this. Vocal chords strung tight, all the noises throaty and gone. You throb against him like you’re begging. Gojo doesn’t stand to let you acclimate, flipping between three fingers in a gentle rub to a soft and well-practiced spank. 
Only when your words start to come out t0gether, like you’re spitting them out because they fill your mouth  too quick - does Gojo bless you with any mercy. He lets his hands sink lower, deeper - until his middle finger brushes your twitching hole. Your breath hitches, and the hands once stuck to your side, reach for Gojo’s hard to hold. 
He licks his teeth, some unspoken feeling sending an bullet through him as he feels your body resist. Needy thing you are and so untouched that even the point of your middle finger makes your breath slower. You’re wet enough he doesn’t need anything else to aid him. He pushes in slow, slow, slow - painstakingly carefully as your wetness envelops you. 
Because he intends to cherish you in his own way, he resists the urge he feels to flip you right over and take you. He’s being kind, and you’ll realize it later - when you’ve adjusted to him a bit more and know when to pick your fights. If he didn’t think it’d ruin the set-up, he’d have flipped you on your back just feeling. Fucked you without any consideration, just to feel your pussy around him in a vice grip. 
It’s all he can picture, but he shows restraint. He’ll fuck himself off on you when you’re sleeping maybe, just to scratch the urge. You might pass out before then. 
He comes back to you like that, a promise to himself to give the relief he needs with the body he finds oh-so tempting. He pushes his perversion aside to touch you. You let out a little sound every time he fucks himself deeper, gets his middle finger down to the first bend the all the way to the knuckle. 
When he thinks you’re adjusted - ready for more, he gives it to you without making you plead. He uses his ring finger this time - his longest ones and feels you stretch around. He groans, deep and appreciative, as he feels how tight you are. You preen, squeeze your thighs together and call his name 
“Oh, Satoru, its.” 
He shushes you before busying himself with tasting your skin. Closes his mouth around one of your tits as he repeats the process. In, in, in until he’s all the way to his knuckles. Fucks you till it’s easy, till you’re wanting more. 
If he were more merciful, a good man or a better one - he’d stop here. He doesn’t though. A third finger has your eyes widening. You gasp. Gojo kisses your face again and again. 
“Easy, easy,” He coos, voice coarse but encouraging “It’s a good exercise for the future.” 
You don’t register the words and Gojo doesn’t expect you to. Even still, he thinks giving you the heads up is quite nice. 
Three fingers proves to be more than enough. It pushes you to an edge he has seen before. He fucks you with three. Your mouth falls open, slack jawed. Gojo curls his fingers. He rubs up like he’s motioning for you to come here, deep enough until he feels it. That spongy spot inside of you, apparent through the sounds you start to make as he touches it. 
He hits something of a stride like that, finger fucking you with pressure on your clit and his mouth on your skin. Gojo takes to watching you once he knows he’s getting you to that edge. Your body stiffens underneath him, breathing going noticeably shallow. Mouth wobbly, lower lip trembling. He can tell you’re feeling it, just as much as you’re resisting it. Gojo coaxes you by whispering against your skin. 
“C’mon,” He hums, nudging his nose to your neck “You wanna cum don’t you? I can tell you. You too scared? Need me to help you.” 
You whimper “Aah, aah,” Gojo can feel you pulse. Can feel your insides tighten. He’s doing it on purpose, tipping you just over the edge. He wants to hear you beg. Wants to know what it sounds like when you beg for him. He fucks into you slowly, until you’re no longer able to put on a show of being composed. 
“S-sato—oh, please, oh—please m-make me,” 
“Want me to making you cum? Say it. Say, ‘Satoru, please make me cum,’ can you do that?” 
A bitter sob leaves your lips and Gojo can’t think straight. It strains you. 
“S-satoru, pleasemakemecum—please.” 
Gojo grins. “Of course I can,” He quickens his pace enough to make you feel it. Your eyes shoot open before screwing closed again “All you had to do was ask me.” 
He watches you intently. How you fall apart under his fingers, delirious whimpers of no, no, no - even though you begged so sweetly a minute ago. He hums as he feels the walls of your pussy start to tremble, a soft squelching sound hastened now. You say something he can’t decipher, words too jumbled for him to make sense. Gojo stares hard. Lets the infinity bleed away so he can feel you just like this, feel you cum on his fingers despite everything. 
He feels giddy to the point he’s sick with it, moaning as your hands grip at the roots of his hair. He kisses your breast tenderly, just over the latest lovemark. 
“Don’t hate me too much, kay,” Gojo says, whispering, means it so you carry it with you because he can feel the resentment nudged so deep into your heart by now “Come on. Cum for me, sweet girl. Want you to feel so good.” 
And so you do. You cry, scream - but the noise amounts to nothing. A cosmic thing, like you’ve been struck by a comet. Gojo fingers you through it, absolutely delighted at the hot rush of liquid that comes pouring out of you. Your first orgasm from him and you’re squirting all over his fucking wrists, soaking his sheets and his arms and his PJ’s with your back curved in a beautiful arch. You break apart in an almost violent way, like the pleasure’s vicious. It tears into you and you succumb with a whimper. 
Gojo shushes you as you break down finally into a teeny, tiny sob. You must be exhausted because you don’t pull away when he comforts you, despite the little angry why, why, why that you whisper. You hit his chest softly. He kisses your forehead and listens as your breathing goes still and you fall asleep in a heart-beart, still curled up into his bed and too tired to run away or go anywhere. 
He stays with you like that, relishing in the warmth of your body until you’re deep asleep. He flips you onto the side of the bed that isn’t wet, and presses a kiss to your forehead before moving out of the sheets. . 
When he stands to his feet, it’s to collect the curse that’s gathered itself on the foot of the bed. It manifests as a white snake with blue-eyes. Gojo finds himself amused. Of course the curse you’ve made is pretty. Gojo grabs it by the neck, watching it as it pries its mouth open and bares his fangs at him. He grins, pricking himself on the teeth to see if it makes him bleed. 
It hisses loudly before wrapping itself around Gojo’s arm. It doesn’t take any effort to subjugate it, sensing his power it stills with some effort. Gojo tilts his head as he walks out of the room, glancing at you before turning his head back at the snake. 
“Better warm up to me,” He whispers in the dark, a contentment to his words “You won’t be seeing your mama for a while,” 
Communication stills. 
Radio silence, more like - a busy bunch of messages deftly still. Suddenly, a raging storm of grief and anger disappears. The morning after Gojo assaults you, he wakes up to see you off like nothings happened. 
He mostly does this because he wants to see what you’ll do.
You spend the morning perplexed and confused. You eat breakfast with him. You sit at the table, contemplative and silent and Gojo chats away at you idly. About the news and the weather and the classes he has today. You chew your food but don’t taste. You listen but your replies are short and stilted - out of touch. 
Gojo learns that when something bad happens to you, you respond to it by detaching yourself. Though yesterday you were hot and fiery, the day after you seem to be mourning. Your grieving process starts early, and Gojo thinks rather amused—that you remind him a lot of himself.
He thinks you’re a little closer now that you understand the apathy of losing something that can never come back. And once this whole thing is over, once you find yourself back here - he’ll tell you all about it. You get it now right? It’s painful to feel like you can never be the same. 
They say that mankind was fashioned from their Lord. Gojo supposes he’s made you in his image. You look a little empty, and though you’re both so different - you can become close by having the same wound. You can understand him a little more this way, all while retaining your sense of resilience.
What is mankind not known for if not perseverance? Of course he knows, once you recover from your grief, you’ll return to your usual spitfire. He’s counting on it, counting on you to fight and run. Escape from him and never come back. 
But that cat and mouse game is more than okay. Gojo isn’t looking for your obedience, really. You’re too defiant of a character. Gojo thinks it’d be pointless if you’d just stayed the same.
You need to have hope to stay the way you are. Thus, Gojo doesn’t plan to rob you of it. He figures it’s best to give you breathing room. After all, he has full confidence in his ability to find you. He could hear the rhythm of your heart a continent away and chase it down without thinking twice. But it’s better if you’re able to show him some resistance. He thinks of it like a compromise. That sort of thing is typical for married folks, he thinks. He gives and you take. 
Eventually, you might realize that the endeavor of running away is fruitless. Maybe you’ll be clever enough to recognize that it’s not that you’re succeeding, but that Gojo is letting you. You’re definitely smart enough to do so early, but just stubborn enough to believe that there’s hope in spite of that. If you try hard enough, persevere a little more, etc. 
Gojo likes this part of you. Always will. You always put your best in everything and this is his own way of nurturing it. 
It’d be a shame to take that from you. Gojo has remained out of your sight for the time being to try and reinstate it. While he raises the curse up in his apartment, he watches you through windows and flitters into your bedroom to peer at you before disappearing again. He makes sure that you can’t sense him or that he’s gone before you can. The more ease you feel, the easier everything else will go. 
Feeding the curse you’ve left behind in his house has been taking most of its time. It’s obedient to him since he’s strong, and it’s big now. Longer and wider and more sinister looking (he feels a weird affection for it, maybe just because it’s from you), more hostile. He’s been careful to maintain it. Too much feeding will make it overgrown. 
It’s currently on Gojo’s floor, on a dog bed like a disobedient pet - all in a single coil. He has to be careful not to endanger you by making it too strong or giving it too much range. It’s just meant to be a showpiece - a prop at best and a scraped knee at worst.
He’s been building it up for a long time. Then, though, it wasn’t such a clear desire. He figured sewing seeds of fear in you would benefit you in a different way. But that’s fine. The means don’t matter as much as the ends and in doing so - he’s made this all sort of seamless. 
It’s not a complicated plan, ultimately. He’ll tell the curse to let loose, freak you out a little, and eventually - you’ll call the only person you know who knows how to handle it. Gojo will save you, and when you’re finally caught in his arms, you’ll have a little reunion amongst yourselves. He’ll reprimand you (but only lightly) and you’ll thrash (but only for a little while) and then he’ll keep you by his side again. 
Except this time he won’t be so quick to let go. He’s sure you’ll protest (and be all gung-ho about it). He’ll feign cruelty and push you to the edge. Whatever response you do have, he’s thought of a way to reply. 
A way to tend to it. 
Like any relationship, things take time. He’s not expecting this to settle right away - but he’s confident eventually it’ll work out how he wants too. Gojo can make that happen as long as you’re within view. 
He watches you through the window as you come in from your classes. You’re dressed up today despite the chilly weather - a blouse and nice pants with bangles on your wrist. He wonders what the occasion is given the time of year. Your bag is hanging loosely off of your shoulder - having only just returned. 
A sense of warmth spreads through him as he peers at you, a smile on his face. He really does like looking at you quite a bit. 
The curse hisses at the sense of your presence and Gojo waves a hand at it to keep it quiet. 
“Calm down or I’ll exercise you right away,” Gojo says coldly. It retracts itself. “I’m getting impatient, too, you know? It’s been a long time.” He says wistfully. 
He keeps looking until you’ve effectively disappeared from his sight. He listens for you outside of his door. The sound of the building buzzer, soft footsteps, and the slight jiggle and turn of keys before you’ve gone in - sound by a dull thump. 
He leans against the wall near his door where he was listening, eyes up at the ceiling as he turns over his options. He should wait it out a little longer. Giving everything enough room to mellow out before it picks up again is an important part of the process. 
But he doesn’t know how much longer he can wait. Plus, keeping this curse around is starting to be troublesome. He’d much prefer you back in his arms, in his bed - all back to that kind domestic fantasy that he’d been thinking about again for weeks. 
He supposes there’s no right decision, in this case. Just what he wants to do, versus what he should do, and some kind of middle ground he’s been spending too long looking for. 
He stands to his feet, no longer leaning on the wall before glancing at the curse from the corner of his eyes. 
“Today seems like it’s too soon yet too far,” Gojo pauses between sentences, scratching his head woefully “But it should be okay, right?” 
__ 
At 7pm, the curse slips underneath the door of his apartment into the hallway. Gojo sits comfortably in his living room, one leg crossed over the other with his phone in hand, a warm mug of tea cooling on his coffee table. 
The news is playing. A general and loose sense of anticipation fills him as he pays attention to the newscaster. Another storm is going to hit and the temperatures are dropping to an impossible low. Officials recommend buying bottled water and keeping warm as it continues to blow out. 
There’s a soft hiss as the muscled curse squeezes itself underneath the tight crack of his door. It’s unfortunate he can’t monitor it directly. Though the instructions ( and subsequently the consequences of disobedience) were made clear - curses are greedy as they are stupid. This one in particular seems to be self-aware enough not to try to go against Gojo’s word. 
So, when the time comes he sits patiently and waits. Watches the news. His ears itch and his skin pricks as he listens for the first whisper of your voice. He wonders if you’ll scream. You didn’t when he thought you should’ve but maybe there's a reason for you to do so now. 
The clock ticks away. It’s unceremonious. Gojo thinks to himself that maybe this entire thing is esoteric. Capturing you is a tragedy that he writes to himself and he’ll re-tell it to you all the time in different ways. 
The clock ticks. Again and again, the monotony is starting to settle in. Time moves slower than you could imagine. Like trying to pipe honey into straw, thick and impossible. 
Tick. Tick. Tick. 
Tick. Tick. Tick. 
Tick. Tick. Tick. 
At 7:02, a dog barks outside. It sounds cagey, and it’s not Pokupan because Gojo knows what that mutt sounds like. Nor is it cosmic. It does sound desperate, though - like asking someone to be let in. And if Gojo didn’t have such a pressing matter to attend to, he’d go outside and do it himself. After all the wind is frosty and the air is unforgiving and winter devours things so slowly it's painful. 
Gojo can’t abandon his task. It’s too important for him to stick his neck out for a being he doesn’t even know. He hopes briefly that it survives. That someone lets it in before it gets anymore violent (or desperate or willing) 
At 7:03, he reaches for the tea on his coffee table to drink it. It’s still piping hot, but Gojo can swallow it with his infinity. He does for a reason he can’t name. It’s just a compulsion, inspired by the fact it will probably be too cold when he comes back for it. He thinks, instinctively, that he should cherish the warmth in the glass despite the barrier that prevents him from feeling it. Ultimately it’s still milk tea. It will still fill his stomach and taste vaguely sweet where he permits. He ought to drink it when it’s warm even if it’s just an illusion. 
The clock ticks again, this time to 7:04 and Gojo regains a sense of bravado that’s riveting. There’s a commercial airing now for a new type of kitchen gadget, an airfryer with more settings than any one person knows what to do with. The advertiser is enthusiastic and loud. He wonders what happens when it switches to the next one. Do actors on set feel awkward when the cameras turn off? He knows a thing or two about performing, which is why he finds himself so curious. 
At 7:05, the first whisper of your pleading filters through the hallways. Though Gojo figures he’s not meant to be able to hear it - because however vague it is, the sense of shame that it holds is hard to ignore. Despite his urge to run to you, Gojo is reminded of the fact he is teaching you a lesson and this is all a show for you and in a way for him too. There’s timings and cues and calls, so Gojo lets your first prayer get passed through the winter winds. He’s sure it gets dropped off somewhere in the snow. 
The dog outside bares its teeth and barks louder than before. 
At 7:06, the feelings of fear and negativity start to weasel their way into his apartment. Through cracks in the floorboards and the aeration in the spackle - he can feel it come through his door and penetrate his being like waves of wind. With no barrier and no filter, your fear is a familiar presence in his life. It comes to a crescendo as he leans his head back on the couch and blinks up at the ceiling. He’s pleased with it so far. It’s proving to be just right. All the months of delicate orchestration have culminated into such a lovely overture. A symphony of sobs. It enchants him like a bird song, or maybe the whistle of a blizzard. 
He waits for it to die down. He waits for it to start back up again. He waits for the sniffling to become sobs and for the sobs to become demands and for the demands to go back to sniffles. He waits for the dog outside to be let in because he can hear the buzz of the gates all the way from his apartment. 
When Gojo has had enough of waiting, it’s 7:15 sharp. 
He stands to his feet and walks through his door with not so much as a look back. The T.V. is still playing where he fazes out and he leaves it because this will be quick and easy. 
You’re right across the hall. The walk is short. The building moans like it’s dead. 
He stands in front of your door and presses his ears to it and there’s some semblance of an altercation. Mostly the sounds of shattered glass. 
If you were any more familiar with this world, you’d know the thing is stalling. It has harmful intent but Gojo’s presence is too risky. If you knew anything about anything, then you’d know you were never in any real danger and even calling Gojo’s name when you hate it so much now would be pointless. 
But Gojo has done his due diligence in keeping you in the fateful dark. 
So this part is easy. He reaches for the door but it’s locked, so he teleports. 
When he enters, your apartment is in terrible shape. The curse itself notices his presence but does not stop to act. He stops to take a look around. He figures you’re cornered and holed up in your bedroom. A trembling figure in the corner praying for God to save you. 
Your house is effectively thrashed like there’s been a robbery. He’ll have to make up something in the report. Officials will come, but they won’t question his word. All the glass is broken and scattered and everything is torn up. Papers ripped and fabric shredded. 
(The stuff Gojo demanded not to be touched has remained that way. Even he’s not so much of a monster to ruin your students' keepsakes. He’s sure you’ll look relieved when he returns them to you later. How kind he is.) 
He prepares himself like an actor might for a role. He thinks of the lines he’s practiced and the way things will play out. This simple, choreographed tragedy. A manifestation of your fears. Gojo thinks that he is probably good at becoming the thing people love yet resent. 
He’s sure you and Suguru would have a lot to talk about in another life. 
He checks the time on your digital clock, left unscatched in all the destruction. 
At 7:18, Gojo phases himself into your bedroom like he’s only just arrived. He hears you gasp in a sharp fear that quickly breaks into a sob of relief. He glances at you where he stands. He’s never been in your room. Kind of a waste it’s happening like this. 
The first thing he does is check if the door is locked. When he finds that it is, he laughs to himself but covers his face before he turns to you. You are exactly how he predicts. Something curled tightly into your fists, fearful and backed into a corner. He coos internally. At what he's done to you. How this has played out. 
It wasn’t enough to break you a little. This part is necessary. 
Like he starts most interrogations off, he asks you question.
“Are you okay?”
“Oh, Satoru.” Your voice sounds shattered in such a way he finds it almost hard to stomach “Oh, it’s—Oh it’s you.” 
“Happy to see me, huh?” He says, tilting his head. You close your eyes instead of replying. 
“H-how’d you…?” 
“I can feel cursed energy,” He says, and it’s not untrue “I felt something very strange in your apartment. It’s been a while.” 
You still can’t find it in yourself to say anything. Maybe desperate, maybe afraid, maybe exhausted by your own paranoia - you relent. 
“Yeah.” You say. Gojo can feel the curse grow impatient. It lets out a loud hiss and you gasp in fear.
“Hey, you didn’t answer. Are you okay?” 
You stare at Gojo for a long time. 
“I’m not hurt but,” You swallow thickly. Upon looking at you closely, you look exhausted. He feels a little sorry for you. He’ll let you rest for a while when you’re home “I’m s-scared.” 
“You’re right to be scared,” Gojo says, and he means it a little. Not about the curse, but in general “It’s a pretty powerful class. A special grade, probably. You share cursed energy.” 
You look agape as he relays this to you. 
“Share…?” 
Gojo gives you a look. He can feel the creature coming towards you door down, slinking across the wood slowly. A coy, soft smile appears on his expression as he reaches down for you. You flinch from his hands but Gojo doesn’t falter. He strokes his thumb across your cheeks, peering at your eyes and how they reflect light from the outside. 
“It was made with your cursed energy,” Gojo explains very gently to you. You look at him in disbelief “Curses are negative emotions. So something like this isn’t uncommon. No idea how it got so strong, though. But that’s all your.” 
He watches you closely as a wave of horror settles over you. A nauseous feeling that has you cupping your hand over your mouth like you’re ready to throw-up. He masks a smile, but he doesn’t condescend you. Not openly, at least. Not to the extent he would like too. He reprimands you like a teacher - a sensei and his beloved mentee. 
“I told you didn’t I,” Gojo says nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders as you quell your own disgust at the thought “You have to be careful. And you can’t fight all by yourself, so you’re kind of helpless. What were you gonna do if I wasn’t around?” 
You look like you’re going to cry. Gojo keeps going. 
“You can’t call the police, you know. They can’t help you at all. Good for nothing bunch, really.” Gojo states, gesturing vaguely. He tugs his masks off of his eyes so you can get a better look at him “But you can rely on me if you need to. I’ll always protect you. Next time just give me a call, okay?” 
It must dawn on you, just then, what exactly Gojo is doing. Or some extent of this is hitting you for the very first time. The look on your face is picture perfect. It’s exactly what he wanted. An understanding he’d be hoping for for so long it’s unbelievable. 
“I’m the only one who can keep you safe, understand?” But he’s not really asking. You know that too “Can you nod your head and agree?” He pricks. You don’t hold back your tears but you don’t cry them either. You break down  silently nd you nod. 
Gojo reaches down and wipes them off for you. 
“Don’t be so sad,” He says to you, and he means it because what a shame it would be to wallow too much on such a nice day. Winter is for warming up next to your loved ones, isn’t it? “I’ll protect you now.” 
Left with no choice, you nod again slowly and clutch your pillow. Gojo kisses the crown of your head and leaves you to untangle your feelings. 
Then, almost on cue, the curse itself bursts through the door. The wood breaks off with the hinges. 
It’s really a weak thing. If Gojo was trying to keep his powers contained, he might’ve put up more of a fight as it lunges at him in your bedroom. It knocks over your things left and right but he’s mostly busy trying to muffle the noises so he doesn’t disturb the neighbors.
 It’s as fast as a gust of wind as he strikes out, neck elongated and jaw as unhinged as far as it can go. This time, Gojo can feel the weight of its desire to kill. A rampant sense of bloodlust in it’s every action, Gojo dodges each attempt and swipe at him. He leaves a barrier over you temporarily so that it can do you no harm.
It doesn’t go for you either. He figures maybe it has some understanding of its own predicament. Desperate animals can be clever too. Perhaps those things have always been linked together. 
But he figures a fair-ish fight is as much as Gojo can do to stave the thing off before he sends it off officially. Plus, he can feel you watching his back - like you’re trying to measure how strong he is. It’s a smart thing to do. You’re learning. It’s probably better to show you now, since there’s not much left to hide. 
So this time, when the snake comes flying towards him - Gojo reaches his hands out. He uses his infinity to stop it in its place. A noise of anger leaves its mouth, a low hiss as it hits the wall in front of him. Wide blue eyes stare at Gojo, a predator with its fangs bared. 
Gojo stares back, a predator with its fangs bared.
He uses a reversal of his Limitless, the infinite blue. The creature is pulled into him closely, crashing first into the space he’s created before disappearing into nothing but smoke and ash. It’s gone just as quickly as it happened. A curse so inferior, it can’t have been more than ten minutes to fight even with all the purposeful delays Gojo set in place to finish it off. 
It’s gone now, the product of you and him. A weird part of him is sad. But now he has you, so he cuts his losses. Now there is only you and Gojo, and a ruined bedroom and broken apartment. 
Gojo, who has no intention of enlightening you, turns his back to look at you. 
“Don’t know how long it’ll be gone but,” He shrugs, rolling his shoulder and cracking his spine “But it’s gone for now. Some officials will be here in the morning but with the way this place is, you might wanna come back to stay with me for a while.” 
This is all a formality. He’s sure you know too, but instead of turning away - you’re shivering figure wavers in the dark. You’re terrified enough to reach for his hand and hold it. You know what’s coming, but that knowing does nothing to save you. You were a victim to fate from the moment you met. Yet, you still look to him for comfort in safety because even knowing better, there isn’t anything you can do. 
And it’s just like you, to want to trust and forgive him. To reach your hand out hesitantly and try. Everything is tangled up and you are terrified and Gojo Satoru loves you. 
“Come on,” He says, encouraging you to get closer. He reaches over your bed to scoop you into his arms and you don’t do so much as protest “Let’s go home.” 
__
Gojo brings you home quietly. 
When he enters, the T.V. is still on. You are curled up in his arms. He has no idea how long you’ve been crying and about what in particular - but that’s okay. Tonight, to him, is something like an anniversary. Like any time before, he has no intentions to treat you roughly. 
It’s a good night, he thinks. Even in the state you’re in, Gojo can only think of making it even more memorable. You’re an injured thing in his arms. A delicate bird with clipped wings, or a butterfly with a missing antenna. Without Gojo there to pick you up in all your broken pieces, you might’ve really fallen apart. 
It’s reasonable enough. For someone like you, he’s sure tonight has been so scary. It makes him feel a little sorry for you. It makes him want to make it all worse before he makes it all better. 
He can’t describe it, but there is something so right about seeing you like this. 
All angry and resentful and volatile. All lonely and scared and saddened and somber. All Gojo’s forever, permanently through everything. He’s made you so completely in his image, something he’s always wanted to do. Maybe you’re a trial run, in its own right, of all the things Gojo will be able to do in the future. What he’s capable of creating with enough effort. 
Gojo is gentle to you. Tender, as he carries you into the apartment. You help him turn off the T.V. and put the mug into the sink. He carries you too afterwards, rewarding you with a kiss to your temple, before pulling through the threshold of his bedroom. 
Just like that, you find yourself again in Gojo’s bedroom like you were so many weeks prior. You’re weakened and exhausted, so willing that he is endeared. Like this, he hovers over you. Looks at your tearstained face and smiles so lovingly. 
Regardless of everything that’s transpired, above all - this is a reunion of two lovers to Gojo Satoru. So in the midst of it, he wipes your tears and kisses your cheek and you don’t pull away. Now you’re so ruined you relish his comfort if only a little, and this time it’s perfect. It’s everything he’s always imagined. 
He’ll give you hope and freedom and let you be. Eventually, you’ll come to realize you’ll always need him a little. And it doesn’t matter, does it? That he’s made it that way on his own. Because it’s true. It’s righteous and religious and godly. Gojo Satoru is not god, but he does understand the urge to make something that listens. 
He kisses your soft cheeks and hums at you, nose nudging your skin. 
“Still feel like crying?” He asks you. You blink up at him like you’re only just now realizing where you are. Some emotion overwhelms you, but ultimately you shake your head no. Gojo grins impishly. 
“That’s good,” He says tenderly. He kisses your lips this time, and you kiss back. It catches him off guard but he doesn’t dislike it “You didn’t get hurt did you? And now we’re together again.” 
This does seem to incite waterworks in you but you don’t look like you have the energy to cry. He doesn’t push you too much. Though it is fun seeing you like this, Gojo is grateful he has some time to cherish you. 
“Scary world out there, y’know?” Gojo says between kisses. He adjusts you, your arms around his shoulders loosely “Hold onto me okay? I’ll make it all better.” 
You whimper under your voice but don’t go to thrash. There’s something about you that feels limp. A spirit softened and dampened, like wet soil. Gojo is okay with anything as long as it’s you, and there is some part of this he likes too. How pliant you become under the weight of your fear, so tantalizing to Gojo he can’t help himself but kiss you.  Riper than the fruit of Eden. Just as sweet.
He kisses you for longer than necessary. It’s intimate and hopeful. All tangled hands and pulling different parts of you up to his lips.The occasional press of his teeth in your skin, with his senses so high he can practically feel the blood rush through them. Your mouth is soft and warm, the breadth of mint on your tongue. He pushes his tongue past your lips but this time around, you don’t do anything to refuse it. 
So accepting like this. Gojo thinks life with you will prove to be exciting. 
He rests his hands on your waist and you don’t pull away from him. Such soft skin covered in a sheer layer of sweat. It’s making him dizzy to have you like this, to kiss you in his bed. Again, again, again. You belong here with him and nothing has ever been so true. The euphoria of everything is overwhelming. He can’t get enough of you. Even if in the moment he carved a spot into you forever and buried himself there, he cannot help but want to be spoiled by your lenience and affection. He can’t help himself but to possess all of you so even time cannot spoil iit. 
Despite yourself, you touch Gojo back gently. Knowing you, it is a way to deal with the pain. You want to forgive him as much as you want him to save you. You hate him as much as you love him. 
From the beginning, everything has been exactly like this. This was the end of all ends. 
This is a lesson in divine truth. 
You’ve made Gojo this way as much as he’s made you. If Gojo Satoru is to play as God, then he supposes you are much like an owner. Some part of you has made him love you unconditionally. A dog and his master. An animal with a love so violent it shakes windows. Gojo Satoru makes you love him through violent means, and like a dog left abandoned in the snow - your own empathy for his unconditional but broken love makes you protect him. It’s cyclical. It can never change because the universe has ordained it. Because everything Gojo touches is a divination from the heavens. 
Where Suguru proves to be a lesson, you are the dues he is owed. 
This is a lesson in divine truth. 
More simply, Gojo Satoru loves you in his own way. Any loyal dog will chase its owner no matter how far they run. He lives for you, after all. He’s made you in his image. The difference between god and dog is nothing more than a matter of positioning. 
You love him back in your own way. Because his character and his tragedy makes it so difficult to abandon him  and your disposition will never allow you. You’ll hate and resent him. You’ll grieve and you’ll cry. You will want to turn your back but he will always come to save you. And who can love you so loyally as a dog undisciplined? Who can keep your sheltered being protected like a wild hound?
Spring was an innocent century ago. Winter is here. Gojo loves you. 
“My birthday passed recently,” He tells you. You blink at him. 
“Oh?” 
“Can you guess what I want?” 
You don’t do much more than nod. It’s not permissive. You just know better by now, and that too is not something Gojo finds himself pleased with. 
“You don’t have to do any work,” He offers you as a reprieve, busying himself once again with undressing you. You’re still wearing the clothes he bought you all those weeks ago “Just don’t run away from me.” 
If you notice how heavy the words are, you’re smart enough not to do anything. Even still, Gojo can’t tell if there's a purpose behind it. Perhaps you just know it instinctively not to. 
He takes you apart carefully. Careful, thick fingers unbuttoning the front of your shirt. You’re wearing nothing underneath, and the sight of your bare skin is almost too much for him. The hickies have yet to heal, though now they’re yellow and softened by time. Gojo will have to leave more to bring back all the color to you. 
He starts at your jaw this time, teeth against your earlobe. Heart in your hands, he knows your body a little better now. 
And he takes his time with it this time too. Even slower than before. Even more consuming, even more adoring. 
He laps his tongue against your soft skin and eats. Your skin is salty and sweet and Gojo can’t contain himself. He gropes you lightly, planing his palms over your shoulders and squeezing your breasts tight. He’s missed touching you more than he knows what to do with. 
Even in being gentle, there’s little he can stop himself from trying to devour. You lay about him squirming as he undoes each and every part of you. He can’t pick which place to go and what thing to do first because he wants so wholly. It’s making his head spin to listen to your sweet and short whimpers. You spread yourself as you lay under him, hands pinned to your sides - demure and needy. 
How different it is but the same. Something about how you’re clinging to him so desperately is making him feel sick with lust. 
Instead of going any further, he pulls away from you momentarily. He puts his arms on your sides and flips you over till you’re on top of him
The sudden change in position leaves you gasping for air. Gojo gives you an amused grin as you fall forward - as he props himself up on pillows while you try and steady himself. He holds you close to him once you’re all set, face to face like this.
“Don’t run away from me,” He says, more seriously. You swallow. Gojo lets you up until you’re half-way over him. You’re so much weaker than him, moved and manhandled so easily. There’s a target on your back so often and Gojo loves being an arrow. 
He kisses the side of your body as you stand on your knees beside him. His fingers hook into your shorts and panties, sliding them off of your body all in a fell swoop. He squeezes your ass slightly, spreading you apart.
“Look at you all bent over for me,” He coos, hands reaching underneath you to toy with your pussy. You whine, shuddering, clinging to his shoulders. “So pretty, baby. Prettiest girl.” 
A hiccup bobs in your throat. Gojo moves his fingers lower and lower, familiar now with the feel of you. Your cunt is just as welcoming as he remembers. The idea of making love sends a shiver through his whole body. Blood rushes to his cock like a bolt of lightning in his veins. He pushes his middle finger into your twitching, needy hole. 
Another sound, cut off by a garbled word of surprise, falls out of your mouth. You’re soaking. Ripe for taking. Gojo wants to fuck you more than anything.
He takes a deep breath, whispering to your skin. 
“Fuck,” He laughs, giggling at the thought of it “I’m gonna break you, huh? Gotta be—shit, need to be extra careful with you, right my love?” 
“Please be gentle.” You say at his request.
“Of course, of course but—” He squeezes your hip as he feels his middle finger go into you down to the knuckle. You roll your hips against him involuntarily  “You just—you’d look so good so full of my cock, y’know? Been thinkin’ about it for weeks.” 
And he has, means every word. You shudder at the confession. He quirks his lips as he fucks into you, relishing in those pretty little sounds that fall out of your lips. 
“You like that?” He grunts, another finger to stretch you out a little more for him “You like when I tell you about all the dirty things you make me think about?” 
Shame fills you, like Gojo’s lit a match under you. He can feel your heartbeat pick up. Is it the being so wanted or is it the crassness and humiliation? Maybe both. Sometime later he’ll pick it apart more closely. He lets himself talk you through it, so close to your skin as he whispers all the filth to you that he can. Confesses it to you. 
“Weeks and weeks, baby. Couldn’t stop thinking about how perfect and wet you would feel when I finally took you like this. Gonna make it so good for you, you won’t have to think about anything else again.” 
The promise sends you limp. When Gojo finally feels both of his fingers slide in and out of you with no resistance at all, he sighs lightly and pulls away. The loss of contact makes you whine, but he brings you back to his lap now, sitting with your legs on either side of his. 
His cock, clothed and restrained in his sweats, swells against your wet cunt. He watches your eyes widen as you stare at it, lucid enough this time to realize what it looks like. He looks up at you, kissing the corner of your mouth. 
“C’mon. You can look.” 
He guides you to the waistband of his sweatpants. You pull his pants down slowly, looking up for permission (which Gojo gives in a loving nod) before taking his boxers off too. His cock is so hard it’s almost painful. The tip is a flush red, white hairs trimmed neat at the base and feeling so fucking heavy Gojo can’t stand it. He hisses as your hands reach for him instinctively, and you try to pull away before he stops you. 
“Touch it, sweetheart” He encourages, wrapping your hand around it for you “Feel it? That’s all you.” 
A flush graces your features. For a minute, it’s all love and nothing more. Nothing less. Too briefly for it to mean anything, but enough for Gojo to know it. You wrap your hands around his shaft and stroke tentatively and Gojo groans shamelessly into you, rutting his hips into the round part of your palms. 
“Fuck that’s it,”
He looks at your expression, examining the concentration before chuckling. Your lip is poked out, eyes dazed. He pulls away from you, securing you close to him. 
With the new proximity, he holds his cock close to you. Measure it up against your skin, against your tummy. He feels you against him, Around him, folds nudging apart for him, The skin on skin alone has him so breathless. A dizzy sort of feeling as he presses the tip of his cock hard against your clit. You feel like silk around him. 
Looking at you like this, all helpless and needy, he can’t help but think about how easily he can overpower you. He’s stronger and bigger. His cock would be enough to split you in half. How he’s gonna make himself fit inside of you spins in his mind over and over. Maybe like always, your pretty little pussy will yield just for him. You’ll open and endure and take him so deep. 
He can’t help appreciating it. Can’t keep his thoughts quiet from telling you. 
“See that? How deep I’m gonna go?” He measures up to you. A hand on the bottom of your stomach, stroking his thumb “Gonna feel me right in here. You ready?” 
You close your eyes and look away. Gojo grabs your chin and tuts at you. 
“Nuh-uh. Want you to see. Don’t close your eyes.”  
It’s not a question or a request. 
So, you watch. Gojo lifts you up just enough to line up with your entrance and sinks you down so, so slowly on his cock. It’s agonizing how slow. It’s incredible how fucking good you feel. How perfect one sensation could possibly fucking be - Gojo could die here in complete bliss. He can feel the stretch of your pussy trying to accommodate. That sensation of resistance that sends him reeling, spine tingling and skin prickling with a heat so intense he feels like he’s going to pass out just sitting there. 
And then there’s looking at you, which proves to be an entirely new animal. You have this pinched expression, a shocked little gasp as Gojo pushes through. A whimper leaves your lips. Gojo rubs his thumb on your lower lip as he eases you down. 
“Hurt too much?” 
“N-no. Just… feels weird.” 
He laughs a little at your honesty, before fucking himself into you even deeper. Another inch and he really starts to feel you. Your walls feel like they’re sucking him and Gojo wouldn’t leave if it killed him. He groans, deep in his chest as you shake. Your grip on his shoulders gets tighter and tighter. 
With one more smooth thrust, Gojo sits you down on his cock completely. He feels so complete like this. Everything in him is at ease feeling your insides spasm and melt around him. He sighs contentedly.
“Still okay?” 
You nod weakly. 
“Can I move?” 
Your reply is nothing more than a whimper.
So he does, but he does so slowly. Just to get into the rhythm. He thrusts up slowly. 
‘O-oh. Oh, oh it’s,” 
He chuckles against the crook of your neck, hugging you close to him. He loves the way you feel against his body, the way your frame fits so perfectly into him. He rolls his hips up into you so there’s no effort on you to move. You whine that time, and he does again and again until your voice is a mess. 
“Starting to feel good?” 
“S-satoru.” 
He swears. 
“Fuck, stop that,” He swears “Gonna—shit, gonna cum right away. Moving so hold onto me tight, baby.” 
You take his words for it. Gojo feels your soft tits pressed into his chest as he pulls your hips up and starts fucking up into you. Each time he does, he feels like he can feel all the way to the back of you. None of his fantasies could compare to the feeling of being this deep inside, cock nudging against that sweet spot that keeps making you fucking mewl into his ear. He can hardly take it as it is now, focusing hard on not cumming until you do.
Making it good for you is his priority. Always has been, but you make it hard for him like you do most things. 
“Touch yourself for me, okay?” 
You look at him surprised but listen to his request regardless. Gojo takes to fucking you steadily. He builds an even rhythm as he keeps you up, hands firm on your hips as he pistons you from underneath. The pleasure comes in waves, undulates as blood continues to rush to his cock. He’s so hard he can’t think straight but he keeps each of his thrusts consistent, lines them with the pace you play with your clit so he can encourage you to cum for him. 
He can tell you’re starting to feel good when your mouth falls agape. He drags on your walls with each punctuated movement and your thighs shake and tense. Everything comes together so slowly but the pleasure comes at once. It’s a force that’s nearly earth shattering. All the planets aligned, everything in the same plane. Everything for him and for you. For the togetherness he’s created and chased after so long.
Now this part of you is all his too. 
“Sa—Satoru,” You warn, your hands trembling and fingers cramped up with need. He grunts as he stares up at you through thrusts “G-gonna…” 
“Gonna cum for me? Gonna cum on my cock? Go on. Know you can do it, baby. So good for me. Perfect for me.” 
It’s all babbling for him now, the sensation hitting him in waves. Your mouth falls agape and you cum so hard Gojo can feel every fucking pulse. Squeezing his cock hard enough he wants to grit his teeth. He presses his mouth to yours instead as you moan out, unable to hold it in. He swallows every noise like he’s trying to embed them into himself.
You cum hard and fast and Gojo is so quick to follow you. Only seconds after you fall limp into his arms does he feel it - no longer able to stave off the urge to cum so deep in you it stays forever. To mark you deeply you never think of anything. It’s almost animalistic for him. Every nerve on his body is on fire as he shoots his cum deep into you, sitting you on his dick with nowhere for you to go. 
Panting, he pulls back to gaze on you. He’s still hard as he’s twitching. He can’t hold off tonight, he doesn’t think. But he’ll give you a minute to collect yourself. He presses a kiss to your hairline. 
He whispers softly as the night comes to a quiet, quiet still. 
���I’m yours and you’re mine baby. Forever and always.” 
You shake. And Gojo knows you well enough to know that it’s the resentment coming back in waves. But that’s okay, because Gojo loves you. 
And with this, he’s taken everything.
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EPILOGUE / OVERTURE : 
Your senses are accustomed to Gojo by now. 
You never thought such a day would come. You spent the first year of this relationship (if you can call it that, to begin with) in trenches so deep you couldn’t really tell left from right. So many things persisted as normal, but nothing was ever the same. 
In that, though, Gojo stayed by your side till the bitter end. He nursed you back into health and sometimes treated you so kindly that you could almost forget who you were dealing with. Sometimes the weight of everything became too heavy. You think you love Gojo almost as much as you hate him.
But it doesn’t particularly matter what your feelings are. Has it ever, in any of this? You always knew that something was strange but you didn’t think you were so clueless. Blindly following wherever his voice took you. 
The first time you try to escape Gojo feels like so long ago. That time, he let you go quite far. You made it out of the house and even went out of the country during summer. But you were sloppy and inexperienced. When he found you and brought you back home, you figured it had been a fluke. You’d learn from it. You’d do it again and that time you would succeed. 
That’s what you told yourself anyway. It’s how this all started. Where you would run, and Gojo would let you before he started to miss you. He’d come and he’d discipline but it was never too cruel. 
(You wished it were. You wished it were sickly and sadistic and tortuous. You think it’s so much worse to beg for mercy when you are sobbing from pleasure. For Gojo to coddle and sedate you and never yield. You think you’d prefer if he were just out of it. Just cruel instead of what he is. Which is knowing but certain. Justified.) 
This has been the farthest you’ve ever gotten. You don’t think you’ve ever been this far away from home. A cabin in the woods where you lived peacefully for days. You don’t know how Gojo found you. 
You had been so sure. This was it. It had to be it. 
Your heart shatters as you hear him. Feel him in your bones so much it frightens you. The world is covered in a sheet of white, and your ankles are bruised  and bleeding from where you’ve fallen. You’re cold and your heart is beating so loud - but no matter how much you run you can’t find any heartbeat to motivate you.
Gojo pulls through the thickets with a frown on his face. Blue eyes and black coat, his feet crunch the snow as he comes towards you. You crawl away. You try too, anyways. 
Gojo leans down to your level, looking at you closely. He reaches out to brush snow away from your skin. 
“My birthdays soon, you know?” He hums, not angry today. Not even wanting to discipline you “It’s not a bad place, y’know? The cabin. We can spend some time there before we go home. Might be nice. But we should get going so we can check on your foot.” 
He reaches his hand out to you this time. Too injured to run, you take it and he smiles before offering to carry you on his back. You hop on, arms around his neck and don’t even cry. A numbness settles. 
It is not the cold. 
“Oh, look,” Gojo says, reaching his hands out “Snow’s falling.” 
You suppose it is. Another Winter will pass just like this. 
A dog howls somewhere far off in the distance.
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yuqi-luv · 6 months ago
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݁ ˖ִ ࣪ 𖥔. GIDLE ERAS - THE EVENT .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪
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Welcome to the (G)I-dle Eras Event! This event was created to celebrate their latest comeback, I Sway and to look back at their amazing journey from their debut.🖤
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HOW TO JOIN AND RULES:
╰┈➤˗ˏˋ Comment "joining" and your fav emoji below🫶
╰┈➤˗ˏˋ Reblog and tag 2 (or more) people you think would love this event <3
╰┈➤˗ˏˋ Dm me a number between 1-13 to get one of (G)I-dle's eras to make a moodboard with
╰┈➤˗ˏˋ Use the tag #gidle eras : the event and tag me when you post your moodboard
╰┈➤˗ˏˋ You can make your mb with a member of your choice but you have to use an icon from the era that you got !
╰┈➤˗ˏˋ Don't copy others' moodboards and give credits if you use someone else's dividers or gifs !
╰┈➤˗ˏˋ Deadline is July 31st ! (Dm me if you'd like me to extend it🤍) Have fun❣️
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PRIZES:
╰┈➤˗ˏˋ First place: 120 reblogs, 3 custom mbs, a follow from me
╰┈➤˗ˏˋ Second place: 70 reblogs, 2 custom mbs, a follow from me
╰┈➤˗ˏˋ Third place: 40 reblogs, 1 custom mb, a follow from me
╰┈➤˗ˏˋ Runners-up: 20 reblogs, a follow from me
Reblogs will be done on my rb accout @yunjin-luv !
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TAGS:
@7hyein @gigittamic @suzy143 @cupid-l0v3r @qqmariztwsse @c-heriis @crylynnluv @tyunlouv @luvfaeri @soulari @swiftwice @le3fmtgy @n-americano @1haqerin @p-oisn @2hanni @7kyujin @lil-liaa @lilaquette @khroem @ecile @iyunjin @aeraras @jicito @wintecafe @eun-luv @yawnznn @sugarish @jaes1lvr @baesol @i04rei @jenfaery @muruffin @bambicito @nikist-4-n
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kurosaaki · 2 years ago
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would you be able to do hcs of ellie partying with her s/o? i saw your post about something like that and it got me thinking about it hehe
hope you’re doing well 💞
PARTYING WITH ELLIE HEADCANONS
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WARNINGS: weed & alcohol mentions, mentions of sex too. not proofread so apologies if there’s a mistake :)
TAGGING: @hazelnutsforellie @icedcold @prrimordiais @elliesstar @anchoeritic @elliephobic @apricxtt
A/N: i want to go party with ellie. rb’s & support is appreciated!
*set in a modern!au*
it’s not a secret that ellie prefers to have a quiet, chill movie night with you instead of going outside. she loves to be at home with you, but let’s get this clear: she only likes to go outside and have a fun night just because she’s going with you.
i get the vibes that she’d love to go partying once in a while, simply just to have fun with her friends and get a little drunk and high with you.
let’s talk about one of the best moments of the night: the pre party. that moment where you and ellie put on your favorite playlist on your speakers, the loud music filling the room just to get in the mood while she dresses up and you try to find the best outfit for the occasion.
if you’re having problems, she’ll gladly help you choose the outfit.
“does this look good, els?” you ask for the 3rd time, your girlfriend on the edge of the bed watching you walk around the room.
“honestly,” she says, walking towards you, trying to hide that cheeky smile while she puts her hands on the zipper of the dress you’re trying on. “this looks fucking hot on you babe”
“ellie” you say, earning a “hm?” from her, “up. you have to zip it up, not down”
(she knew that)
even if you choose to dress up more comfy, she’ll ask you to match outfits. if she’s wearing all black, you better wear something black too. if her shirt is white, yor better have something white on. she loves to match outfits with you, please let her ;-;
she loves it when you help her do her hair. she lets you choose too. want a bun? she’s alright with that. you feel like she would look hot with her hair down? she approves it.
she’d smell amazing too. just saying.
ellie also likes to smoke a blunt before actually going out, just to “warm up” a little bit. she always does it while you’re still dressing up, and she finds it relaxing and arousing to watch you dance around the room while trying on your clothes, putting some make-up on if you’re feeling it, or even taking some pics.
talking about taking pics: going out with ellie means having to take pics with her. that is a MUST. and i’m talking pics in the mirror of your room, on the bathroom getting ready, walking to the party, AND on the party.
some of those pics (especially the “in the party” ones) actually make you laugh and feel kinda embarrassed the day after when you look at them.
you know that part on the hangover movie where they take the digital camera and look at the pics they took the night before? YEAH. I’M TALKING ABOUT THAT.
“BABE YOU HAVE TO SEE THIS” ellie shouts from the other side of the living room, making you run towards your girlfriend, who had her phone in her hand
“let me see!”
she lets you grab her phone and you see the photo she’s talking about. it’s a photo where you and ellie look WASTED on the dance floor, ellie with a cowboy hat grabbing your hips from behind smiling and you biting your lip with a smile too, and with two drinks in hand. you didn’t notice dina was behind you both pointing at jesse, who (for some reason you wish you remember) was laying on the floor wearing dina’s sunglasses.
“this will not be on the photo dump i was planning to post” you returned the phone to ellie, who was laughing out loud.
“if you don’t post it, i will” she kept laughing at more of the photos taken last night, “this is so funny”
for some reason, you and ellie are always late.
a quickie before going out never hurt nobody, right?
when you finally meet up with your group of friends, you start to drink a bit and let the alcohol flow through your system. by the time you arrive at the party, you’re already tipsy.
ellie has a moderate tolerance to alcohol. she won’t get drunk if you give her two drinks, but she will definetely be tipsy if you give her three or four. and it’s SO funny to see her stumbling over her own words, laughing at everything, and being extra affectionate in public.
we all know ellie is the coolest girl ever. so, what makes us think she wouldn’t be the life of the party? everyone knows ellie there. everyone wants to party with her at least once. everybody wants to say “i partied with ellie williams and it was awesome” but only a few people can say that. that includes you, jesse and dina.
ellie likes to dance with you. she likes to tease you a lot while she’s at it, too. grabbing your hips, pulling you closer to her, leaving a sneaky kiss on your cheek…all while she’s guiding your movements with hers.
alcohol gets her horny sometimes too. so, you know what that means: bathroom. immediatly.
SCARY!GF!PRIVILEGE!
if there’s someone who dares to look at your direction the wrong way, they’re in big trouble.
if looks could kill, ellie would have buried that person before they looked at you twice.
with ellie by your side, there’s hardly anyone who dares to go and ask for your number or try to flirt with you. but if that happens, she’ll grab your chin and she’ll give you the hottest kiss ever. after that, she’ll just wink at you and grab your hand while looking at the poor person who tried to get your number.
“sorry dude, she’s taken” she’ll simply say before guiding you to another place where they can’t find you anymore.
she pays for your drinks!
if you feel like you need a break, she’ll always be there to guide you outside and take some fresh air once in a while. that’s also a moment where you realize how drunk you are. and how hot your girlfriend is. and how your feet hurt from dancing.
by the end of the night, ellie always makes sure to search for your friends at the party to go home together.
if you feel too tired to walk, she’d give you a piggyback ride <3
and if the party was held way too far from your house, she’d call a friend of hers to drive you both there.
fun fact: she called joel one night to drive you both home. it’s safe to say that he never volunteered to do that again. though it was funny for him to see you and ellie drunk.
once you’re finally at home (and if she’s not too tired to do it) she’ll help you take your make-up off and put your pajamas on before hitting the bed.
post party sleep is the best sleep ever. but the headache from the day after is not.
but it’s definetely worth it, because partying with ellie is just amazing and the hangover doesn’t matter when you both try to remember what happened last night.
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