#I saw an edit of this song for it’s a wonderful life

[youdontneedhenry]

under pressure x eliza x patrick

[blkkizzat]

ꨄ︎『Toji x TumblrSmutWriter!Reader』ꨄ︎

Toji x TumblrSmutWriter!Reader

18+ Minors - DNI

Summary: You shouldn't have left your phone out in the open bestie because now Toji just discovered his cute lil gf has a big slutty imagination and that means you're really in for it ❤︎ . CW: daddy/dilf kinks, humiliation, backshots, outdoor sex, toys, voyerism, breeding, overstimulation, lots of mentions of various kinks, light spanking, light spit play, meta concepts WK: 4.2k Black fem reader coded but no descriptors.

A/N: Y’all can blame my forgetting to take my adhd meds and my hangover yesterday for this one. I was laying on my bathroom floor regretting life choices, waiting on McDs Doordash and thinking up outlines for kinktober when this popped into my head. I thought it would be a quick drabble like 1k words to help my writers block with the "Bumpy Ride" Geto fic but lord knows I can't write shit under 3k, who am I foolin? I don’t even have a song inspo for how spontaneous and random this shit was lmfao but I still had to do a graphic for this one regardless (editing those notifications were hell). Edit- I lied the song inspo is: Girls Need Love Remix - Summer Walker ft. Drake.

Enjoy!

Imagine you are dating Toji and he finds out you secretly write Tumblr smut fics on the low. 

He comes over to your apartment one night after one of his ‘jobs’ ran late. He has a key, but is wondering where the hell you are as you usually greet him at the door. Going into your bedroom, he finally hears you in adjoining bathroom shower. 

Toji begins to strip down in order to join you but he barely has his shirt off before he notices your phone blowing up. 

Picking your phone up off the bed he sees 206 notifications from an app called “Tumblr”. 

Toji has no fucking clue what the hell a Tumblr is but his jealously starts to soar. He already made your ass go private on Instagram and deleted your Tiktok dances. He got tired of threatening every loser who tried to slide in your DMs or even leave a comment for that matter. 

Imagine his surprise when he unlocks your phone (of course he had made you give him the password) and instead he finds out his new vanilla-as-fuck girlfriend is actually a kinky cockwhore who loves writing character x reader stories about fictional men plugging any n' every one of her holes. Sometimes it was multiple men simultaneously, with their massive cocks bullying your readers until you had them crying. Not to mention them fucking you absolutely stupid in every scenario imaginable, with a huge daddy kink/love of dilfs to top it all off. 

Y/N clearly has type, Toji thought smugly as he saw some art on your page of these animated dilfs that looked similar to him.

But goddamn, some of this shit even he hasn’t considered doing with you yet. Honestly, he’s been holding himself back for your sake as you had been pretty shy at first. His sweet naive little college girl, yet here you were a filthy closeted slut this entire time. 

Tsk, Y/N been holding out on me, eh?

At this point you were probably a bigger freak than he was, he mused with an arched brow as he scrolled through what you called your ‘masterlist’.

It was nothing but a collection of pure unadulterated filth. 

More than anything though while going through your Tumblr, Toji is rather impressed at how popular you are. He reads your intro post where you deem yourself the ‘Self-proclaimed DILF Smut Queen’ and an evil grin appears on his face.

Toji abandons his plans to join you in the shower and he waits for you on your bed while he links-surfs through more of your so-called fics, drabbles and thirsts.

You made your own little pictures to go along with your dirty stories too? Aw, what a sneaky yet talented little whore he had. 

ꨄ

When you finally exit the shower, wrapped only in a big fluffy white towel and your hair pulled back into a ponytail, you are surprised to see Toji sitting shirtless on your bed. 

Toji had promised to be here hours ago. He never even sent a text saying he would be late and you’ve been bored waiting for him all evening so he could give you some of the attention you've been craving. 

Your body is already warm from the shower and your legs rub together as you are already feeling a bit horny just seeing him bare chested.

Walking toward the bed you are eager to go pounce on his lap. That is, until you see it’s your phone he’s scrolling through again without your permission.

You loudly sigh which made his head snap up to look at you.

You’re so ready to tell him off again and remind him your Insta is still private and you only use TikTok to mindlessly scroll, not post dance videos anymore when gives you a dangerous look.

You stop dead in your tracks.

Your eyes grow wide as saucers as you recognize what he’s actually looking at when waves your phone around tauntingly in his hands. 

No.No.No. Not this. Please god, not this!

But your worst fears are confirmed when he starts reading aloud with a huge shit eating grin. 

“You moaned loudly as you threw your head back and bucked against him hungrily. You knew you had to finish quickly unless you wanted his wife to come home to discover the babysitter on top of her husband, making a mess all over his face. His thick tongue lapped into your drenched folds and he spread your puffy pussy lips wider to suck and nip at your swollen clit….” 

Your mouth was agape in shock. You were a deer in headlights.

A million and one thoughts raced through your mind as Toji continued on. He swiped over to the next one, this time a daddy and breeding kink drabble.

“Or how ‘bout… ‘Take it all like the good little slut you are for daddy, Y/N’. ‘N-No daddy, please I can’t cum anymore!’ You babbled as you succumbed to the overstimulation of him ruthlessly breeding your stretched cunt and filling you as you squirted on his dick for the fifth time that night…” 

You could only continue to stand there and gawk at him. This couldn’t actually be happening to you right now.

“Ya really wrote all this nasty shit, Y/N?” Toji teased while still looking at your phone as he found more of your filthy smut to read aloud to you despite the horrified expression on your face.

You of course had written all that ‘nasty shit’ but most of it was before you started dating him, breaking a long dry spell.

You really weren’t one to run the streets and sleep around but you had some kinky ass fantasies and you not getting any action had you needing to express them somehow.

It’s not like you didn’t eventually plan to open up and share a few of your kinks with Toji down the line. But this was a relatively new relationship and Toji was still a bit intimidating to you. Even though Toji treated you with way more care and concern than he did anyone else you’ve seen him interact with, you still had an insecure fear that he would reject you for a few of your kinks. 

Your last boyfriend had called you a weirdo for wanting to call him daddy in bed, so you resolved then to no longer share that part of you.

Hell, not even your IRL friends knew what you got up to. Only the Tumblr followers and moots, who you all shared peaceful anonymity with, were familiar with you and your writing.

Fuck. You had finally found the perfect DILF daddy too, you didn't want to scare him away. 

You cursed yourself for even opening Tumblr earlier. You did so out of restlessness waiting on his ass to come over. You just were going to read a few fics before you realized you had a story in your drafts you never posted that just needed to be proofread.

Wanting to kill time you decided to edit and post it on a whim, not knowing the mess it would be getting you into now. 

“Earth to, Y/N.” Toji snapped his fingers, interrupting your thoughts.

"Where did my perverted baby’s little mind go off to now, huh? So obsessed with being ruined by imaginary cocks you can’t even respond to your own daddy.”

You could have combusted on the spot as you were sure there was more steam coming off you from embarrassment than from the hot shower you had just taken. 

But wait– wtf, your frazzled mind just connected the fact Toji had referred to himself as your daddy. 

Those words sinking in made your entire body tingle. Your pulse quickened as you chewed your bottom lip and fidgeted with the edge of your towel.

Was he also into this?

The fact was Toji was very into this and you were about to find out just how much he was.

Enjoying your reactions fully, Toji stood up and made his way toward you with a crazed look on his face.

“You’ve written 96 pieces of filth Y/N…”

He inched closer and you instinctively moved back. Every fiber of your body sensing the danger in front of you. You wondered if this is how the targets of his ‘jobs’ felt when he approached them. Toji never lied to you about what he did for work but you never felt like you were his prey, until now.

“You’ve been a very naughty girl, have you nothing to say for y’erself, princess?” 

“I-I-I-”, you stumble over your own words. This was all way too much, way too fast, for you to process in order to say anything coherent back to him.

“I-I-I-” Toji mocked your pathetic tone, an evil grin back on his face. 

“Lost your words, Y/N?”

Your body instinctively keeps moving back to keep distance between the two of you as he continues to advance on you.

“But you have so many words to say here, isn’t that right slut?”

Toji toyed with your phone in his hand, spinning it around.

“Slut. That’s what you liked to be called in these stories, eh? The dirty slutty whore with a sloppy cunt just ready to slime all over her daddy’s cock, yeah?”

You gulped as your back hit the glass of your bedroom balcony door with a ‘thud’. You had no more room to run while Toji closes in on you.

He pressed both of his massive hands against the glass as they framed your head, his body hovering over you. You couldn’t help but notice how much bigger than you he was as his frame enveloped you and blocked out the rest of the room. You were trapped.

Too nervous to look him in the eyes, you settled for his chest and Toji’s muscles flexed tantalizingly under your gaze. You lost yourself for a moment as the familiar scent of his heady masculine musk invaded your senses.

Your eyes roamed lower and lower before resting on the bulge beneath his sweats and you softly pant. 

“You’re staring at my dick like you want me to stuff that pretty little throat cunny of yours full. You aren’t making good use of your mouth right now anyway Y/N, might as well see how much of me it can fit.”

You looked away from him completely but that only ignites Toji's flames more.

“Look me in the eyes little girl...” Toji’s hand roughly grabbed your jaw and squished your cheeks together as he brought his face closer to yours.

“This shy act won’t cut it anymore, slut.”

His intensity was overwhelming you. Various emotions threaten to bubble to the surface as you squirm in his grasp and your eyes become glossy with tears.

“You didn’t think you finally had a man who would be into this wild ass shit, now did you?”

You wanted to question him further but you felt your gravity shift as the balcony door whipped open behind you. Toji ripped off the towel covering you as you practically tumbled backwards onto the small landing buttass naked.

The crisp fall night air hits your dampened skin giving you goosebumps. You shiver and immediately drop down in a crouch to cover yourself. 

“T-Toji!! Are you insane?!” You gasped at him in a hushed tone, your silence finally broken. 

Promptly, you scan the seemingly deserted neighborhood streets through the railing for any sign of movement or signal that someone else was outside.

To your relief there was no one in sight.

Thankfully this was a relatively quiet neighborhood and no one was ever really out at this time of night. Nevertheless the shock of it all was sending your nerves into overdrive.

“Toji my ass bitch. It’s daddy to you moving forward–,” he roared jerking you up off the ground, “–and we are going to do every single fucking thing your slutty mind has ever fucking written starting NOW.” 

Your eyes darted as around him if you wanted to run back inside but there was no getting past his brutish build as he quickly slammed the door shut, shaking the frame.

Frankly, you didn’t know whether to be thrilled or terrified as you had written some depraved ass shit over the past year in the midst of your cockdrought. Some of it you had never even seriously thought of actually doing IRL. 

“Let’s start right ‘ere, eh? Did you think I wouldn’t notice the description of the place in your little balcony story matched your own?” 

Your eyes almost popped out of your skull as you recalled what you wrote in that particular smut fic.

ꨄ 

“A-AH! N-NOOO TOJI, W-WAIIIIIIIT!” You whined through gritted teeth. 

You tried (and failed) not to release any noises from the unrelenting backshots Toji was currently giving you as he folded you over the balcony railing. The tips of your toes barely rested on the cold floor as your ass bounced back into him and had your clit throbbing when his heavy balls smacked against the sensitive nub.

You had previously only fantasized about Toji being this rough with you, but now that it was actually happening for real you couldn’t think straight. Your lungs burned from sucking in the frosty night air and your cunt pulsed from his thick girth stretching you open. 

Shockwaves ran along your body with every cruel thrust of his hips. The force of it reduced your legs to jelly and you were sure you would have collapsed had he not had you suspended like you were, between him and the railing. 

Toji seemed both unfazed by the cold and your cries for mercy as he shushed you with a harsh spank. He enjoyed the way your fat ass rippled under his heavy hand in the moonlight so much he gave you a few more for good measure.

Your tits violently swayed over the edge as one of your hands grasped the railing for stability and the other held your phone in front of you. Toji was making you dictate your story for him as he reenacted the play by play assault on your cunt.  

The bright screen you held was near blinding to your teary eyes. You mentally cringed as you knew it would act as a shiny beacon to view your activities if anyone walked by the small apartment complex or hell, even stepped out on their balcony. 

“T-Toj- Daddy, w-what ‘bout– neigh-h-b-bor-s?”

You managed to croak out over the sloshing of your cunt and slapping sounds of flesh that echoed into the atmosphere everytime he rammed into you. You couldn’t bear to look around to see if any of your neighbors had started to investigate.

“Pshhh, Fuck your neighbors Y/N! They clearly don’t have a cockcrazed baby to please that writes dirty little stories about imaginary men like I do.”

If you didn’t know better you would think he was actually jealous of the DILFs in your stories too from the way he was sadistically fucking into you. 

His thrusts caused your icy tears to run down your face and sent your tits bouncing into the wind. Your cold and neglected nipples hardened in the chill to the point of delicious pain.

“B-but- it's too c-cold out D-Daddy!”

“Mmn, yet your pussy feels warm enough, Y/N. Too hot even. This is for your benefit, you know–,” Toji stated matter-of-factly while he increases the speed his pounding into you, “–So you remember you have your own Daddy who will fuck you anyway you want, anytime you want…just, fuck, tell Daddy what his slutty baby needs.”

The way his hips are driving into your core knocks the wind out of you. Toji tightens the already brutal grip on your hips which assists him in pressing deeper into your cunt. The movement has you almost slipping. You nearly drop your phone off the balcony when your toes stepped in the growing pool of shared juices flowing down your legs and collecting at your feet.

“Hold that shit tight for daddy baby, got it? You drop it and we gotta start over, yeah? I’ll make you walk downstairs ass naked just like this to get it too,” Toji breathed out huskily. 

You realize you’ve never heard him sound this needy before now.

“What’s next, in y’er lil’ story huh?… Speak up so I can hear it over this messy cunt.” 

There was an edge of desperation for you clear in his tone. Although to your dismay it causes your body to gush around him harder meaning you would have to speak up even louder as your pussy squelches grew more vulgar in volume. 

You nearly shouted out the next part groaning and mixing in incoherent babbles throughout the smut filled paragraph as Toji doesn't slow to help you. If anything Toji picks up speed and grows even harder inside of you as he's encouraged by his baby's filthy words.

“...H-he- lifts your leg, r-resting your knee on the edge of the bal-c-cony. T-T-The angle allows h-him, fuck, deeper access to your c-cunt. Ah-h-h-a clear view of his c-cock badgering your core f’er a-anyone who happens to p-pass belowwww-ohmygod. Y-you seeeeee s-stars as he callously s-slams into your c-cervix, shitshitshit, n-nearly fa-fa-fucking you off the balcony if not for his s-strong hold on youuuu–ah. Y-you violently t-tremble as you c-cum s-screamiiiiing, not fuckdaddyfuckkkk, caring if your n-neighbors could s-see or h-hear you any l-longer.”

“HA! Is that so–” Toji lifts your leg just like you wrote in your fic, “–guess I am gonna to have to keep fucking this tight cunt until you no longer give a fuck about anything else but this dick, eh?”

You hear what sounds like a door slide open near you and you begin to whine about your neighbors again before Toji jerks your head back by your ponytail to whisper in your ear. 

“I wouldn’t worry that nasty, pretty little head of yours about these neighbors babydoll…” 

The new angle allows Toji to bury himself deeper into you just like you told in your story and his tip hits your cervix so hard you think he might actually penetrate. 

“...if I were you Y/N... I would think about how daddy’s needy lil whore is gonna make it through an entire day of classes tomorrow with clamps on your nipples and a remote control vibrator up your cunt.”

He licked the side of your face and spit in your mouth before carelessly pushing your head back. You loudly moaned as his bruising grip returned to your meaty hips as his nonstop aggressive assault on your cunt proceeds.

You feel yourself getting close, your eyes rolled back into your head and drool seeped down the corners of your mouth. You cursed your weakness for this shit as you felt yourself give into the pleasure. You surprise even yourself as you never actually thought this kinda sex could be so fucking good you wouldn’t care about shit else for real. 

“Goddamn mamas, squeezing me so hard–” Toji’s hips snapped into you with every syllable, his voice becoming more animalistic, “–you want me to fill this pussy up? Mmm, I fucking know you do the way she’s milking me. Fuck, might even put a baby in you, give ‘gumi a sibling. We won’t be able to do some of that kinky shit you wrote unless I knock a baby up in this cunt, ya know.”

Of course, Toji being the sexy ass DILF straight out of your dreams would love breeding kinks too.

His ramblings cause you to tighten and clench around him even more. You’ve wanted to beg for him like this since you first started dating. Just thinking of the words spilling out of your mouth nearly pushed you over the edge.

You were so close to release.

“I-Inside me D-Daddy pleasepleaseplease!,” you slobbered out, struggling to make sentences from all the pleasure within you.

“F-fill me– fill me D-Daddy, knock this tight little cunt up, w-want it– want it– w-want it–!!!”

Your voice caught in your throat and you nearly choked once you felt your peak hit. Your pussy sent tremors around his dick as you creamed around him. You can't think of anything else but him inside of you.

You just came but Toji allowed you no rest. He still pummeled inside you as he chased his own high and slurred vulgar curses of praise for his pretty lil’ whore's dirty mind, while planning the next debaucherous smut for you both to reenact.

“Ya think it's too late now f’er prime next day delivery for those toys, baby? Fuck, look that up while y’er still holding that phone.”

You didn’t even realize you still had your phone in your hand but were just thankful you didn’t drop yet. You didn't think it would survive the fall.

Groaning you tried to rally the strength to even lift the phone to face unlock when you locked eyes with someone below. You instantly recognized the person as the elderly woman with the flower garden from down the street.

The old lady had always been very kind to you, making pleasant conversation, offering you fresh flowers for your kitchen and praising you for how reminded her of her own sweet young daughter at your age. 

Unfortunately for you both, she was casually walking her two mini poodles when her eyes were affronted with you practically hanging off the balcony. A blissed out expression plastered across your face while Toji held you, battering your slick pussy full of his thick cock.

The old woman’s eyes widened in terror as if she actually witnessed a crime scene as she panicked, yanking her two dogs away swiftly back in the direction of her home. You knew you would have to take the long way home from now on.

Nevertheless Toji, who was none the wiser and wouldn’t give a single fuck regardless, merely continued planning out your next smut fic enactment.

“Nah fuck it, we’re going to the library tomorrow. See how many pages you can read of that dull ass biology book while y’er warming my cock... Tch, or should we do the one where y’er fucking the coach in the men’s locker room, whacha think baby?”

"Hmmmnmmrgh", you could only moan in reply.

You were already near hyperventilating from your own climax, the shame of now having to avoid your neighbor for life and Toji’s fiery body creating a storm of friction clashing with the freezing temperatures.

But your senses were now wholly overloaded once you felt him reach down to pinch and rub at your clit. 

“Cum again with Daddy baby, shit, can ya do that f’er me?” Toji sounded like he was close and he slapped your clit even harder causing you to scream out.

Cockdrunk and overstimulated you could no longer communicate as your entire body felt like it was an extension of your pussy. The thick fluids flowing out of your body increased the sizable puddle already at your feet. You utterly surrendered to the feeling and your body wrecked with pleasure electrifying you. 

You almost blackout as you feel his cock bust hot seed into your tummy melting your insides and causing you to cum all over again.

"Fuck, that’s it, take it all. Can't wait to see this belly and these tits full mama."

The aftershock of your orgasm feels near endless as Toji continues to fuck thick ropes of his cum into you. 

Losing track of time you weren’t sure how long it was before Toji finally pulled out and took you off the railing. Holding on to you so you can balance and turning you to face him he places you down on your unsteady feet. You immediately bury your head into his chest as his heat envelops your cold skin. Your breathing finally starts to calm in his embrace. 

“So good f’er daddy babygirl,” he murmurs into your hair, savoring your scent.

“Warm bath, yeah?”

“Sure, but you gotta carry me daddy.”

You yawned while Toji’s already lifting you princess style in his strong arms. You were exposed still in the night but at the same time you have never felt safer. 

You curl further into his warmth as he kisses your forehead and finally brings you back inside.

Once inside the bathroom Toji sets you down on the edge of the tub while the water runs and he leaves to grab some fresh towels.

You can’t help but feel euphoric as you smiled to yourself. You are too giddy!

You finally have the DILF daddy you always wanted and could be open about your kinks without any judgment. 

However your mood shifts when Toji returns. You give him an incredulous look as you see your pink waterproof vibrator in his hands. 

Toji turns it on and saunters over to you, his scar twisted into a devilish smirk.

“95 more fuckfics to go ma’, we don’t have time to waste…”

Fucking hell, you had entirely forgotten about the overstimulation in the bath drabble. 

You quiver in both anticipation and distress as you aren’t sure how your completely spent and nearly frozen body is gonna be able to cum four more times tonight. 

Could there ever be too much of a good thing?

You weren't sure what those limits were exactly.

“Ya know, Y/N–," Toji started slyly, interrupting your thought.

”If I hit up Shiu and you asked him nicely with that pretty lil' mouth, I’m positive he would be down for some double daddy Eiffel Tower action.”

However from the feral grin on Toji’s face he appeared determined to test those limits with you.

You could thank your Tumblr smut fics for that. 

© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ.

A/N: I honestly have to say I am a bit impressed with myself as I’ve never finished a story in one day before ever (although it took most of today to proofread and I still think there might be errors soz). Hopefully this is a good sign for powering through those Kinktober fics once classes start up again this Weds. Also If there is any interest possibly a PT 2 after Kinktober featuring a threesome with Shiu at his office.

Edit: errors/grammar fixed as of 9/26.

This one goes out to all of us dilf smut queens who simp Toji ❤︎

Please reblog to have DILF Daddy Toji dick you down, but likes and comments are always appreciated just the same!

[girlbeyondthegrave]

I Watched Beetlejuice Beetlejuice a Third Time: More Things I Noticed

Here’s my previous list for those that haven’t read it. Enjoy!

A lot of people on this post I made thought that the dog in the MacArthur Park sequence was Taco from the Ghosthouse segment where Beetlejuice appears in the audience. I am sad to report this is not the case. Taco is a chihuahua, and the dog that appears is more of a terrier. However, some people on Reddit wonder if the dog is the one that ran out in front of the Maitlands’ car and killed them. I haven’t rewatched the first movie yet to check.

When Beetlejuice stitches Lydia’s mouth shut, she’s more exasperated than afraid. She literally tries to yell, “COME ON!”

Beetlejuice looks so offended on Lydia’s behalf when Rory calls her codependent. Like, “Is he serious right now? Get him, babe!”

Beetlejuice appearing before Delia can finish summoning him furthers the eavesdropping theory I made in my earlier post, and if we go off that theory, we can explain by Beetlejuice wasn’t that bothered by being summoned away at the wedding. He’s overheard Lydia’s desire to take her relationships slow and her reluctance to marriage. (Which is most definitely because of him and the fact that the last living person she loved tragically died—even if their relationship was over before that point.)

In the film, Beetlejuice is the ONLY person that agrees to help Delia find Charles, which we see her do at the end of the movie. This means that Beetlejuice kept his word and helped Delia, and he didn’t keep her away from Charles after the wedding fell through.

“MacArthur Park” plays when the studio intros roll, during the wedding sequence, and the end credits—three times when we have three different iterations of Beetlejuice and Lydia’s dynamic, fun fact. This is meant to be their song, and although the song is about a doomed relationship, this part sticks out to me: “After all the loves of my life / You’ll still be the one.” It doesn’t matter if Beetlejuice gets the timing right. It doesn’t matter if Lydia marries him. He considers her “the one.” He’s always going to wait for her, as conveyed by “Right Here Waiting.”

Astrid opens pages about violation 699 and summoning sandworms via trapdoors. I understand that was meant to “foreshadow” later events and explain why she knew how to do those things, but the terms for 699 are barely on-screen, so it’s hard to catch the part where it lays out how bringing Lydia illegally into the afterlife makes her contract null and void.

When Delores appears at the church, there’s a huge gust of wind, and the Handbook moves, but NOTHING ELSE MOVES with that precision until Delores moves Lydia away from the altar. This is kind of a stretch, but I personally think it’s possible that Beetlejuice saw Delores, and he purposefully sent the book in Astrid’s direction. If we go off my eavesdropping theory, he clearly knows Astrid is a smart girl. Plus, he stopped her from getting to the book earlier, so he knows it’s a threat.

When Beetlejuice has a dramatic entrance or exit, it’s very intentional. He does a whole dramatic couple’s therapy bit for Lydia and Rory. He does the earthquake through the model with a slow rise from the smoke. But we’ve also seen him appear in straightforward ways, too, like how he appears randomly to spook Delia. Beetlejuice controls his entrances and exits, and so his dramatic exit at the end is intentional. He allows Lydia to send him away. He makes a big show of it. Lydia has been manipulated by Rory for years. He’s tried to control her and stifle her. When Beetlejuice lets Lydia send him away and makes a big show of it, he’s demonstrating the amount of control he’s giving to Lydia. He goes because SHE wants him to, not because he can’t stop her from saying his name.

(Editing to say that this post confirms the dog is Tim’s dog.)

[arabella0001]

saw an edit with him on this song and yeah...

i said i'd catch you if you fall

cn warning: dom/sub undertones, Manhandling, teasing, fuckbuddies-with-feelings, overstimulation, rough oral sex(male receiving), degrading/praise kink, eating pussy, breeding kink, size kink, deep emotional undercurrents, fluff Gojo Satoru wasn’t an easy man to decipher—always grinning, perpetually untouchable, radiating that insufferable, all-knowing arrogance. But you? You knew him in ways most people didn’t.

You knew the sharp tang of adrenaline on his lips when he kissed you too hard after a mission, the way his voice dropped into something lower, smoother, still arrogant. Even when his hands tremble, marionettes of something raw and unscripted. You knew the intimacy of him shutting off his Infinity just for you. Not that you are the only one but the impossible contrast of power and vulnerability, how effortlessly he let you touch him when no many people could.

And that? That pissed you off more than it should.

Because what were you supposed to think? That you were special? That you meant something to him beyond a way to let off steam? No. You weren’t going to fall for that. You weren’t going to be another one of his playthings, just another moment of reckless indulgence before he threw himself back into the world that demanded too much of him.

And yet…

There were moments. Small ones. Moments when you wondered if he cared.

Like the night you jolted awake from a nightmare, only to find yourself wrapped in his arms, his voice low and drowsy as he whispered something utterly ridiculous, just enough to make you roll your eyes instead of shake.

Like the night your phone buzzed in the dead of night—a family number, hushed voices, something hurtful. You hadn’t said much when Gojo found you outside, your fingers curled around a cigarette you weren’t even smoking, its ember flickering uselessly in the wind. You’d tried to brush him off, but he sat next to you anyway, nudging your shoulder, cracking some offhand joke about how terrible your poker face was.

Like the time you broke up with your ex, the only relationship you’d had in  alone Gojo, but of course, he showed up anyway, a smug grin hiding something softer in his gaze. He didn’t say ‘I told you so,’ even though you knew he’d never liked the guy. Instead, he took you out for drinks, let you rant about everything, and then got you so drunk you barely remembered him carrying you home.

Like the time he let something slip, just a little, about how exhausting it was to carry the weight of the Jujutsu world on his back.

You turned your head, catching the way Gojo’s chest rose and fell in slow, deliberate breaths. His usual annoying retorts was stripped away. His eyes half-lidded fixed on the ceiling, like he was looking at something far beyond it. You asked mostly in a ironic voice, but a hidden curiosity is behind your question. “You ever get tired of being the strongest?”

“Me? Tired? Never,” Gojo exhaled, the sound somewhere between a chuckle and a sigh, but it didn’t quite reach the usual cocky arrogance he wore like armor. He pause for a second before adding  “But hey don’t fucking get it,” he muttered in a tone like he want to act unaffected, tilting his head just slightly toward you. “The higher-ups, the old bastards pulling the strings. They talk like they know everything, like they’re untouchable.“ His hand flexed against the sheets, a restless movement, like he was barely holding something back. “They just sit there and expect me to clean it up. Like I always do. Like I always fucking will.”

He fell silent for a moment, his tongue running over his teeth, like he was debating saying more.

“Gojo, you really think to stop listen to them everytime, you have a life to live too— “

“Tch,” he clicked his tongue, rolling onto his side before you could push him further. And before you could blink, he had you wrapped up in the sheets, pinning you down.

“You’re way too nosy, you know that?” he huffed, voice dropping back into that infuriating, teasing lilt.

“What? But you started—”

“I should just tickle the curiosity out of you.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

But it was too late. His fingers dug into your sides, and you shrieked, twisting under him, kicking uselessly as he laughed, the weight of his words disappearing into the air like they’d never existed.  You should’ve known better than to think he’d ever let you really see him. And now?

Now you’d had a shit day.

The kind of day that made you want to punch something, where everything went wrong because for whatever fucking reason every damn thing piled up until you were ready to snap. Like you did something different in the morning and the butterfly effected begin.

And the last thing you needed was to run into him.

But of course, you did.

You spotted him before he saw you, standing with Geto, laughing, his sunglasses slipping down the bridge of his nose as he shoved a dango stick into his mouth. His uniform was slightly rumpled, the high collar making him look as effortlessly attractive as always.

You were not in the mood.

He turned just as you were about to slip past, and that stupid grin stretched across his face.

“Hello?! What’s with the storm cloud? Someone spit in your coffee this morning?”

You looked at him for a second with an annoyed expression “Not today, Gojo” And before he start opening his mouth again like he always do, you add “Leave me the fuck alone.”

His brows lifted at your tone, a flicker of something passing through those bright blue eyes. You didn’t stay long enough to figure out what it was.

You left. And you thought that would be the end of it.

You didn’t know it, but he was worried. He knew you. He knew when you were pissed in a way that meant something real. And for all his teasing, Gojo had never been the type to ignore things that mattered.

So when you shut the door to your apartment and locked it, thinking you were finally alone until he start knocking before teleported inside.

“You really think a locked door can keep me out?”

His voice came from behind you, and you nearly threw something at him.

“Are you fucking serious, Gojo?” you snapped, whirling around. “Get out.”

He leaned against your wall, arms crossed, head tilting slightly as he studied you.

“Talk to me.”

“No.”

“You sure?” You glared at him, not wanting to play this game with him. “Not everything can be solved with your dick, Gojo. Get out.” He smirked. “Debatable.” You wanted to punch him.

But his teasing expression shifted a little, enough for you to realize he was actually paying attention. His eyes dropped over you, taking in the tension in your shoulders, feeling how stressed you are.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he murmured, stepping closer. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Damn him.

You didn’t want to talk. You didn’t want to admit how fucking exhausted you were, how much today had sucked, how much you just wanted something easy for once. His fingers brushed against your wrist. A light touch. “You gonna tell me, or do I have to make you?” Your glare was sharp, defiant. “You’re not making me do shit.” His lips twitched. “Oh? Wanna bet?” His fingers traced the line of your jaw, slow, methodical, his thumb dragging over your lower lip with just enough pressure to make your mouth part. You hated how easily he unraveled you, how fast  he could pull you into his pace.

“Start talking, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice dropping. “You know how this works.”

“I’m not in the mood,” you bit out.

“Liar,” he murmured. The silence stretched between you before his fingers brushed against your hand, light, almost absentminded, but there, you hadn’t even realized how tense you were until that moment. “It’s stupid,” you muttered. “Try me.” You shouldn’t. You didn’t even want to. But when you looked up, you saw something in his face—not just amusement, not just curiosity. Something that looked too much like genuine interest. “It was a mission,” you started, voice tight. “It went wrong.” Gojo hummed, a soft sound of acknowledgment. His fingers traced over your palm, slow, aimless. “Someone died,” you admitted. “And maybe, maybe I could’ve done something. Maybe I fucked up. Maybe I should’ve—” Your throat closed up as his fingers curled over yours. “Mhm,” he murmured, his touch sliding up to your wrist, his thumb brushing against your pulse. He wasn’t comforting you exactly. But he was there, listening. You exhaled shakily. “They blamed me for it,” you muttered. “Not outright. But I could tell. The way they looked at me. The way they didn’t say it.” Gojo let out a breath, something quiet and his touch wandered, trailing along your forearm.

“They’re idiots.”

“They are not—"

“No, seriously,” he cut in smoothly, like he was stating an obvious fact. “You think I don’t know how you fight? How you think? If there was something you could’ve done, you would’ve done it. That’s just how you are.” Your fingers twitched in your lap. “So what?” “So they don’t get to decide what’s your fault,” he said simply. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “Maybe they’re right.” Your voice caught and his fingers ghosted over your shoulder, trailing to your collarbone, barely-there touches that were more distracting than they had any right to be. “You’re thinking too much,” he murmured. “You do that a lot.” “Gojo—” “Shh.” His words were light, but his touch was warm, intimiate, his thumb brushed slow, deliberate circles against your back. “I’m being nice. Just let me.” “You did what you could,” he murmured after a moment with softer “I know you.” Somewhere along the way, your voice had started to shake. Not from frustration. Not from anger. But from something else. And the bastard knew. “Keep going,” he murmured, feigning innocent curiosity, even as his touch dragged over your pulse, making your jaw clench, but his fingers dipped lower. “You’re not listening,” you bit out, voice raising. “No, no, I am,” he mused, lips quirking. “It’s just…Well, you’re a little distracted, sweetheart.” His hands along the dip of your waist, his touch pressing in just enough to make you feel it. And after you slipped a gasp, the atmosphere switched instantly. In one swift motion, he turned you, pressing you up against the wall. “See?” His breath was warm against your ear, one hand slid down, fingers pressing into your hip, possessive, immovable. The other caught your chin, tilting your face to the left so you had no choice but to meet those too-knowing eyes.  “Talking does help.” You were going to kill him. Or fuck him. Maybe both. “Fuck you,” you muttered, breath uneven. His blue eyes gleamed, “Oh, sweetheart.” His thumb dragged over your lower lip. “That’s the plan.” Gojo maintain his grip on your chin, turning enough as he come down to kiss you, his tongue delved into your mouth, tangling with yours. He kissed you like he owned the breath in your lungs, like he needed to swallow every sound you made. His grip on your hips tightened, pulling you flush against him, and fuck—he was already hard. You moan into his mouth, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, swallowing your breath, devouring you. His hands slid lower, gripping your ass, pulling you tighter against him until his fingers flexed, tightening ever so slightly before his palm met your skin with a sharp, stinging crack.  

You jolted as his palm cracked against your ass, The sound echoed, heat spreading through your skin. “Gojo—” Another slap. Harder. The sting stealing the breath from your lungs, your hands pushing harder into the door, clinging to something, anything. “You’re too tense,” he murmured, his fingers slipping between your legs, pressing over your clothes. He hummed. “Oh? So wet already?” You clenched your jaw. “Go fuck yourself.” His smirk widened. “Oh, baby, I’d much rather fuck you.” And then his fingers were under your waistband from behind, slipping into your panties and start dragging through your folds, spreading your arousal. His breath was hot against your neck as he nipped at your skin before overstimulating you, the rough pad of his fingertip teasing over the slick, swollen bud, pressing just enough to make you twitch. “His voice was mocking, looking at you how you restrains your moans. “You want me to make you cum, baby? Relax you a bit?" You hated how your hips bucked into his hand, how the slow press of his fingers made you dizzy. You swallowed, stubbornly refusing to answer. Gojo tutted. “Didn’t hear you.” His fingers stilled, barely there. “Show me how much you want it, sweetheart.” You were not going to beg. But then—he withdrew his hand completely from your pussy. A frustrated whine left your throat before you could stop it, and his smirk turned wicked. “That’s better.” He spun you around, pressing you against the door while his knee nudged your legs apart, and before you could react,  his finger chase your pussy again until it find your hole. Your moan was ripped from your throat as he curled his finger to stroke your inner walls. thee slick sound obscene in the quiet. His free hand palmed your breast, squeezing and pinching your buds exactly how he knew you wanted.

“Fuck, you’re dripping,” he murmured, his mouth pressing against the back of your neck. “Such a messy little thing.” The heel of his palm start grinding against your clit and you head pressed against the door, your knees shaking. “Gojo—” “That’s not what you call me when you’re like this,” he murmurs, punctuacting his words by sinking deeper and your legs almost gave out. Your breath came in broken gasps. “Satoru.” “That’s it.” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder. “Now, be good and cum for me.”

Gojo watches how you writhe beneath him and he know exactly what you need. Feeling your greedy walls fluttering, he add another finger, stretching you more as he plunged them deep inside you, fucking into you with hard, relentless thrusts. Clenching around him like your trying to keep him buried inside your hungry hole, he find your spot that make your wision wide,  making uuour inner muscles quivering arounding him.

The rough pad of his fingertip start teasing again over the slick, swollen bud, smearing your wetness while his knuckle sinking deep in your pussy, before pulling out just enough to tease your entrance, then thrusting back in, filllng you over and over.  Your body start giving up, teetering on the edge. With trembeling thighs, you spread wider as if to take more, to feel everything and grinding into his hand, desperate for that last push.

Gojo put a hand around you to make you still before finger fuck into you harder, his palm slick and hot where it slaps against you. Your spine arching while a broken moan, mumbling his name slip from your lips as your orgasm crashes over you. Wall clamping around his fingers, puling while your clit throbs under the ruhless pressures of his thumb. Gojo doesn’t stop, he work your through it, fucking you slowly with his fingers, his thumb easing up just enough to prolong the pleasure without overwhelming you yet, pulling it out slowly.

You barely had time to recover before he was on you again, manhandling you onto your knees. His fingers tangled in your hair, tilting your head up.

Unbuckling his pants, his smile widen slightly, a lustful glint present in his eyes, those damn, inescapable things, a teasing glint that promises trouble.

“You know what to do, sweetheart.”  

Your lips parted, pupils blown focusing of how his cock stands thick and flushed with precum beading at the tip, your body still thrumming from your orgasm.  He smear his precum as he jerks himelf slowly, teasing his own need. Before he dragged it along your lips, another drop wells up, trembeling at the tip before slipping down on your face making him hiss. You whined softly while parting your mouth opening obediently, and he groaned at the sight. “Fuck,” he muttered. “You’re too good to me, baby.” Then he slid into your mouth, slow at first, letting you adjust. His fingers twisted in your hair, guiding you as he set the pace. “Look at you,” he murmured, voice rough. “A very, very, good girl for me.”

He groans when your tongue drags along the underside of his cock, teasing the sensitive ridge. His hips jerk, pushing deeper, forcing you to take more. Your throat tightens around him, a helpless gag slipping from your lips, and fuck—he feels it.

"Just like that, baby," he rasps, fingers tightening in your hair, not pulling, but holding, guiding, as if he’s barely restraining himself from fucking into your mouth properly. Tears bead at the corners of your eyes, spilling hot down your cheeks, but you don’t stop—you hollow your cheeks, suck harder, let him feel the heat of your tongue working him over, the messy drag of saliva coating his length. The slick sounds are obscene, but you kept going, swallowing around him and letting him now to use you how he wants. His breath was ragged now, hands trembling slightly as he held you there. “God, you’re so fucking perfect like this.” And just when you thought he was going to lose it and cum in your mouth, he pulled you off.

You gasp for air and before you ask him what he want, he toss you into his arms, your head fell over his shoulder while his hands gripped my ass, holding me up.

Gojo tossed you onto the bed, grabbing your lges and dragging them to the edge of the matter, forcing a sound out of you, one that only grew needied when he spread your legs apart. “You were so good for me,” he murmured, kneeling between your thighs. “I think you deserve a reward.” Gojo doesn’t give you a change again, doesn’t let you come down from the high of your last orgasm. Your body is still trembeling, still pulsing with aftershocks but he doesn’t care. If anything, the way you shudder beneath him, only seems to spur him on.

His hands are firsm as they press your thighs apart, keeping you ide open for him. Feeling his mouth on you making you gasp, hips straing by his grip. His tongue drags over your clean, tasing and teasing but when he hears the choked sound that you make, the way your fingers fist in hist hair, he groans, wrecked and low. Like he’s the one falling apart, like eating you out is wrecking him as it’s wrecking you.

Gojo burries his face deeper in your wet pussy, lips wrapping around your abused clit, pulling whimpers straight from your throat. He’s lapping at you like he can’t get enough and your body jerks, spasming, fingers dig into your flresh, holding you still

“Satoru, too much, please, I can’t-“

Ignoring your pleas,  dragging you back down with strong hands as your hips trying to escape.  Then two fingers push inside your, pressing up against that raw, throbbing spot and your walls flutter instantly, his fingers fucking into you and you break.

It slams though you too fast, too hard, your second orgams rips out of you before you can even brace for you. Body spaming, a tear rolling onto your cheek as you come, your thights trembeling and squeezing around his head. Gojo moans, a slow, deep sound at the way you squeeze around his finger.

But he didn’t stop. Even as you whimper from oversensitivy, he stays between your thights, his tongue slow now, softer. Cleaning you up, tasing every deep of you delicious cum, he kiss your clit and along with it, leaving soft open-mouthes kisses around your inner thights, worshipping you and when you maintain his intense gaze, you already know he’s not done with you.  His voice a low murmur of praise and filth, thumb stroking your clit playfully. “So fucking pretty when you cum for me.” You whimpered, pushing weakly at his head before his grin widen, his fingers teasing your entrance.

“Think you can handle more?”. “Satoru, please—” But your words were cut off as he threw you down futher, your body bouncing against the mattress, a sharp exhale forced from your lungs. His frame hovered over you before you could even think to move, hands pinning you beneath him before manhandling you again.

He had you on your hands and knees, his grip firm as he spread you open while his palms slid over the curve of your ass, squeezing, and smoothing teasingly—then crack. A sharp slap landed against your skin, heat blooming where his palm met flesh. You jolted, a strangled sound leaving your throat. You love it so bad that you clench again around nothing, you look back at him at there he is.

His gaze is darker, lips parted ashe breathes a little heavier, cheeks tinger with a faint flush. His eyes hold omething dangerous, something that should make other person a little afraind, but instead, it makes me wetter.

He watches, shamelessy how your pussy clench, your body betraying just how desperate you are.

One finger, slipping inside like he’s searching somethins, like he’s claiming something that belongs only to him. He fucks it in slow strokes and you watch as your orgasm coat his fingers, dripping and glisterning.

Gojo lifts his hand slightly, staring as your slick trails down his sking before his eye flick back to you.

A pause.

He comes and grabs your hair, yanking your head back just enough to expose your throat, to remind you who’s in control.

His voice is different from before, commanding even. “Suck”

You take his fingers into your mouth, hollowing obscenely your cheeks around them, tasting your own release. You moan intentionally, softly, enough to make him twitch. Your mouth swirling over his knuckles as you look at him. “You’re so fucking messy,” he muttered, voice thick with hunger. He pull out from your mouth before dragging his fingers through the slickness between your legs. “My perfect little slut.”

It’s unbearable from him to stay longer, pressing his tip on your entrance, your eyes widen as you look over your shoulder, hips chasing him closer.  Gojo grips your ass, spreading it more until he thrust inside.

A sharp gasp left your lips as he start filling you, not stoping until almost all of it get. He is holding you there, buried deep inside, groaning at the way you feel, restraining himself to cum directly into your womb. “Fuck,” he rasped, voice strained. “You feel so good.”

Gojo drives into you, deep and slow but there’s a desperation in it and his grip on your ass tightes, fingers diggings in so hard it’s already bruising. Holding you in place just to drag you back onto his cock with every thrust, forcing you take it, almost take all of him.

Your mouth falls open as he bottoms out, stretching you side, he is stuffing you full in a way that knocks the air from your lung.

You missed it. You can’t deny it.

The way he fills you, owns you, forces everything else from your mind until nothing exists but his big, arching drag of his cock inside you, ripping every thought from your head, leaving only the unbereable need for more. “You love this, don’t you?” His voice was full of wicked amusement. “Getting fucked like this, taking everything I give you.” A whimper escapes, your head bobbing before you even realize you're nodding. "Y-Yes—"

You can barely breathe, barely think, hands trembling against the pillow, your body struggling to keep up.

He sees. Of course, he sees.

Strong fingers wrap tight around your wrists, yanking them behind your back. A sharp pull forces your body down, bending you deeper onto his cock. The stretch is unbearable, every nerve alight as he presses deeper, splitting you apart, ruining you. He groans at how deep he can push now before praising you. “That’s my girl.”

You whimper, or better say sob as you shake, wrecked, every sound you make bordering on broken, desperate, pathetic.

Maybe you really are crying for pleasure and pain, being too much but not enough at the same time. He’s too big, too deep, tearing uou apart just to put you back together again, forcing you body to take what he gives it, to mold your pussy to his shape.

Feeling your thirst orgasm approach, pussy squeezing him harder and making him hiss but you didn’t hear, you were ready to snapp all over again, your ass starting to bounce on his cock and meeting his thrust but suddenly, Gojo moved. A whine left your lips from his edging before he lifted you, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. His breath was hot against your ear as he held you in place, his pace deepening, each thrust hitting exactly where you needed it. Your head tipped back onto his shoulder, a helpless moan escaping you. “You’re mine,” he murmured, his hand sliding up to cup your throat, tilting your chin so he could catch your lips, feeling his possessive emotions as he takes your in a brusing kiss, demaning entrance but his thurst make it messy, sloppy until your body start tensed around him. Tears forming in your eyes and a sharp cryp breaking from your lips, Gojo cups your cheek and force you to look at him as your cum start pushing him out of your pussy. Cum start leaking around his cock and your walls start throbbing violently, making both of you moan in each others mouth.

Gojo try  restrain himself, burying his face against you neck. He turned you on you back, shoving a pillow beneath your hips.

His eyes watching all of you, half-lidded with lust and a breath ragged. He usually doesn’t fuck you like this, saying is not his favourite position.

But before thinking more, one hand gripped your thigh, your legs apart while the other slipped between your lips, pressing his fingers against your tongue again, his oral fixation need to be fixed by your submissive mouth.

“Be good,” he murmured. “And suck.”

You wrap your arouns his fingers and he push deeper, gagging you with it.

“Mphm.”

His cock twitching inside you. His free hand wrapped around your throat, just enough pressure to make you shiver. “You’re so fucking perfect for me,” he rasped, voice almost gentle beneath the raw hunger. His thrusts became slower, deeper, dragging pleasure out of you with every stroke. His fingers slipped from your mouth, cupping your face while his thumb brushing along your cheek. His blue eyes, wild and blown out with arousal, flickered with something else, a little bit softer.

He comes down to kiss you, but not like before. His lips parting just enough to drag against yours, to let you feel the soft, wet heat of his mouth before he seals them shut again. His tongue flicks out, teasing, just a filthy swipe along your lower lip before ehe sucks it between his teeth, biting down hard enough to make you gasp.

He takes advantage of it, his tongue slipping inside, pressing against yours. His lips are slick now, moving against yours in a open-mouthed rhythm, tongues rolling together in a messy and wet way while pushing deeper and slower inside your pussy. When he pulls back, just barely, his tongue flicks out again, dragging along your bottom lip in a low, slow stroke before he sucks it back into his mouth, swallowing your moans and whimpers like it belongs to him.

He mutter against your lips, your eyes searching him for anything, anything to explain why he want to break you like this.

"Say it."

Then he grabs your jaw, fingers pressing into your skin, tilting your face up so you have no choice but to look at him.

His eyes aren’t like before. They’re softer now, but still demanding—pleading, almost, like he’s begging you to understand, to give him what he needs.

And you think you do know. You can feel it in the way he fucks you, in the way his body shudders against yours, in the way his grip tightens like he’s holding himself back. Like he needs to hear it. Like he needs to own it.

The realization sets your stomach on fire, makes your exhausted walls flutter around him, but there’s something else, too—your heart pounding harder, because for you, this isn’t just fucking anymore.

His fingers tighten around your throat—not enough to hurt, just enough to catch your attention, just enough to make your breath hitch. His eyes flicker, almost vulnerable for a second—but what leaves his lips is anything but soft.

"Say it, or I’ll fuck it out of you."

You gasp, tilting your head into the pillow harder as his cock throbs inside you, thick and heavy, pulsing like he’s barely holding himself together.

"Come on, sweetheart. Give me what I want."

You nod, desperate—too sensitive, too fucking full, your mind slipping between pleasure and delirium. Your voice is ruined when you finally give in.

"I’m yours, Satoru. Only yours. Your good girl. Your dirty little slu—" The words tumble out between gasps, your body clenching, trembling, drowning in him. "Please—please. Fuck. Come in me. Fill me up, baby, I need it, I need it—"

That’s it. That’s all it takes.

His breath shatters, his body stiffens, and then he groans—a deep, wrecked, broken sound as he buries his face in your neck, breath hot and ragged against your ear. Fingers dig into your skin, grip unrelenting, holding you in place as he pounds into you one last time, brutal, deep, filling you completely.

The first pulse of his release is sharp, hot, spreading inside you as he jerks his hips forward again, grinding himself impossibly deeper, fucking his cum into you like he wants to make sure you take every drop. His lips find yours, messy and desperate, tongue sliding into your mouth as if he needs to taste you while he falls apart.

His cock twitches inside you, spilling thick ropes of cum, so much it’s leaking out around him, dripping onto the sheets, making a mess of both of you—but he doesn’t stop. His hips stutter, pushing it deeper, like he wants to ruin you with it, like he wants you to feel him inside you for hours.

You whimper, already too sensitive, but you love it—you love how full you feel, how warm, how his cum is still seeping from you as he stays inside, letting his weight press you into the mattress.

And then he groans again, soft this time, his lips brushing against your jaw before he breathes out, shaky, ruined, still pulsing inside you.

While he’s still inside you, his lips move slowly against your skin—pressing soft, lingering kisses along your neck.

"Mine," he murmurs between kisses, his voice low, hushed, almost reverent. He drags his lips lower, across your shoulder, warm breath fanning over your skin before he kisses you again. "Mine." Another kiss, this time just below your ear, his tongue flicking out slightly before he nips at your skin. "Mine." His voice is softer now, but no less certain, each word sinking deeper, branding you in a way his body already has.

You almost cry.

I’m fucked.

One of his hands cupping on your cheek, his thumb barely grazing your skin in slow, absentminded strokes. The other? Loosely curled around your hip, like he wasn’t quite ready to let you go. Your mind was still hazy, body aching in the best ways, but something about the way he was holding you—gentle, unhurried, like he was memorizing the feel of you—made your stomach tighten in a way that had nothing to do with arousal. And you really needed that. But now you feel your heart pound too hard, an anxious make your neck feel tighten. For a while, neither of you said anything. The only sound was your breathing, slowly evening out, the faint hum of the city outside your window. Then—his fingers brushed against your jaw, tilting your chin slightly. “Still alive down there?” His voice was low, a little hoarse, but the teasing lilt was there—light, familiar, Gojo. You huffed, too exhausted to roll your eyes properly. “Barely.” He grinned, pleased with himself, and you felt his fingers squeeze your hip. “Can’t have that. What kind of man would I be if I broke you?”

“You tried,” you muttered, voice dry. He laughed—a real, soft laugh, something that vibrated against your skin as he pressed a lazy kiss to your forehead. “Yeah, but you like it when I do.” You didn’t answer, but your fingers curled against his back slightly, your body instinctively leaning into his warmth. And Gojo noticed. His lips quirked, but instead of throwing another cocky remark your way, he just sighed, rolling onto his side, pulling you with him. You blinked, surprised when he settled you against his chest again, one of his arms looping around your waist, keeping you close. Normally, this was the part where he’d make some stupid remark, maybe slap your ass before getting up like none of it mattered. Gojo Satoru wasn’t the type to linger too much. But he wasn’t letting go. “…Are you still cuddling me?” you asked, skeptical. His fingers traced small, lazy circles against your lower back. “Hah? No. I’m trapping you.” You scoffed. “Trapping me?” “Mhm.” He grinned against your hair.”You can’t move. You belong to me now.” You rolled your eyes, but the weight of his arms around you, the solid warmth of him, made your chest ache  again. Maybe he felt it too, because his teasing softened just a bit. “Seriously though,” he murmured, quieter this time. “You good?” Your throat tightened again, caught off guard by the genuine concern beneath his usual amusement. You didn’t trust yourself to answer right away. Gojo waited, patient in a way he usually wasn’t. And that scared you more than anything. “…Yeah,” you said eventually, your voice softer, a slight tremble in it.

He hummed, the sound vibrating against you, like he wasn’t fully convinced. But he didn’t push. Instead, his grip on you tightened slightly, like he was reassuring himself you were still there. For a long moment, neither of you spoke. You should move. You should say something. But the way his fingers moved slowly along your skin, the way his breathing evened out against you, the way he wasn’t in a rush to leave— It left a question lingering at the edges of your mind. Was this just this time? Or was something changing? Gojo Satoru was reckless. Untouchable. Someone who never belonged to anyone but himself. And yet, how he fucked you before—No, like he made love with you? And the way he stayed, the way he held you close instead of pulling away—felt like something that wasn’t supposed to happen. Something that wasn’t supposed to feel this good. Your fingers curled slightly against his chest, and his breath hitched, making him second guess what happened insie him but as he usually ignores and go with the flow, he turned his head instinctively, pressing an absentminded kiss to your temple, something easy, natural, like he hadn’t even thought about it. Your heart skipped. You didn’t know what this meant. But as you feel how warm and comforting is in his arms, you try for the first time to ignore it, like him. And maybe, for now, that was okay.

[sometimeslwish]

The Ocean Beyond The Sea [ao3]

Saw this edit, then remembered the song and made this post, saw this edit later on, got the writer blues, got some encouragement from @comatosebunny09, remembered the rafayel x nonmc reader drabble I started writing after s:ate but never finished and BAM, this came out.

As you can tell, it was quite the sequence of events that led me to churn out 2.3k words in two days after a few weeks of not writing.

Tags: Rafayel x non mc reader, gn reader, angst, mentions of death and drowning, drowning as a metaphor for both death and love, assassin reader, mentions of stalking (from both reader and Rafayel, although his is more subtle)

Bottom Of The Deep Blue Sea

You've always wanted to drown.

Not literally– or well, maybe so... It's hard to explain.

The ocean has always called to you. Since before the experiments, before escaping and before the N109 zone. Like a voice in the back of your head that keeps singing to you.

It's because of the heart inside of you. A heart that you shouldn't have.

You resurface from the water, blinking away the droplets as you stand up. You don't take a deep breath, it's unnecessary, with this complicated evol of yours.

It's a blessing and a curse.

It means it's hard to kill you– a weed that will continuously grow no matter how many times you uproot it. You'll adapt and overcome, take in whichever form necessary to survive, over and over again, whether you want to or not. You will survive. Like a phoenix. Like a true human weapon.

It means people want your power.

People like Ever, who will stop at nothing, the same people who experimented on you in the search for immortality.

You get out of the tub and grab a towel, making quick work to dry yourself and get ready for the night– or well, day ahead. You never know in the n109 zone, it's easy to forget with the constant darkness.

. . . . .

There's blue eyes staring at you.

They're beautiful and captivating, you want to get lost in them and never come back out.

Oh, how you wish to drown.

. . . . .

There's a song that you've always hummed as you went on your missions. A song that gave you the reputation you have now. "A phantom with a siren like voice that leads you to your death" people warn.

You don't mind it.

You've never felt like yourself anyways, only a ghost floating around, unable to leave.

You didn't even realize you were humming it, at first, until Sylus pointed it out on your first partnered mission. You'd shrugged before finishing the job, giving a simple "I don't know, it's always been with me," for an answer.

He'd accepted it with no questions asked and the topic had been dropped, forgotten into the darkness of the night.

. . . . .

Endless blue. You're surrounded by it.

You can hear children's laughter and a voice narrating a story. You stay and watch from afar, taking the time to enjoy the sight before it's too late.

You wonder if you'll ever find him, if you'll ever meet again. If he remembers.

You hope he does.

Oh, how you want to drown.

. . . . .

You find him in an auction.

All you catch is a glimpse of purple hair, but you know it's him. You'd recognize him anywhere, from any angle. How could a devout follower not?

Sylus takes one look at you and that is all he needs to know.

"It's him."

You don't need to answer.

It's him.

Later that night, you reveal one of your cards to Sylus.

"Would you believe me if I said that I know someone from a past life?" You blurt out on your way back to the mansion.

It takes him a few seconds for him to answer and when he does, he takes you by surprise, "Yes."

You get to see a side of him that not even the twins have seen, one you're not sure you'd ever see.

He looks tired, but not his usual tired. It's soul tired, like centuries have been taken from him when he sits down. You get to know one of his secrets, memories of a past life shared with miss hunter, just like you and Rafayel.

You bond over the shared problem, even if the variables and solutions to it are completely different.

Two peas in a pond, destined to die at their lover's hands. You feel a little bit less alone.

"I guess you can say we're friends now." You pat his back and smile at his unimpressed stare, saying nothing else as you turn to leave to your room.

You try not to think about how it's the first time you've smiled in years. The motion feeling wrong after so long.

. . . . .

You shouldn't.

You really shouldn't, but you don't have anything else to do. Not like you have better examples anyways, with the way Sylus sends Mephisto to his little miss.

You watch him from afar. Alternating between staring at his paintings and watching him interact.

He looks even more beautiful than last time.

You follow him. Carefully and without raising suspicion. You never approach him, simply watch.

He's with the little miss and the smile he gives her makes you green with envy.

Oh, how you need to drown.

. . . . .

You've made a habit of it.

The twins call it stalking, but you call it shadowing. Ever so in denial.

You do it when you're free, when the sea lets up and doesn't tug at the heart.

It's to keep him safe, you lie to yourself, knowing he's more than capable enough.

For backup, just in case things go wrong. They never do, he's always in control, always steps ahead.

You wish you would come closer, but you never find the right time. Opportunities pass you by as you overthink. You've met the little miss' eyes a few times, acknowledged her when she recognized you. Each time, you leave before she can do anything about it. As if you were delegating your job.

A job he didn't ask you to take.

. . . . .

You make eye contact with him through the glass of a shop. It's sudden and unplanned, you don't get to hide behind something or someone.

Blue and pink eyes, staring into your soul, throwing you into an endless, calming blue. It feels like the breath was knocked out from your lungs and simultaneously put back in.

You're thankful she's with him, because you need to run and hide. It keeps him from chasing you.

It's finally happened, he knows. You wonder how long you'll get to run before he finds you. You won't be able to hide, you've seen what he can do.

You just hope you're ready for when it's your turn.

Oh, how you long to drown.

. . . . .

Miss hunter makes it to the n109 zone with his help.

You avoid her like the plague.

He'll close in at any second now, you can feel him right around the corner.

You'll never be ready.

Running from her is easier, you just ask Sylus for a vacation. He doesn't ask why, simply grants it.

You go to a villa near the beach. The ocean's call is stronger there, but it calms you instead of driving you restless.

. . . . .

You make the mistake of lowering your guard when miss hunter goes back to Linkon.

You're completely in your element, fighting the men without breaking a sweat. You're too focused to notice who the owner of the gaze you feel on you is.

You come face to face with him when you're done, his back against a wall, your dagger just a few centimeters away from his neck and his own against your chest, right where your heart is.

He's supposed to be with miss hunter, not in this alleyway with you.

Your gasp is unbidden and you stumble back as you pull away, dropping your dagger to the floor like it burned you.

He's beautiful, always been. Divine, otherworldly, enchanting. No word in any language would be enough to describe his beauty.

There's recognition in his eyes. He crouches to pick up your dagger, a poor imitation of his old one.

"I finally found you, my beloved bride."

Will you finally get to drown?

Take Me Back To Eden

[justmeeeehiii]

Care for me

You decide to do your girlfriend a little favor by buying new lingerie and surprising her…

Warnings: (slight)SMUT!! lactating, sex, fingering (r receiving), cunnulingus (r receiving), mommy!billie, sub!reader, fem!reader, top!billie, I didn’t proof read… lol…, this is my first ever post… have mercy on me!

Word count: 1315 words

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

It was a sunny day, the Californian sun having no mercy on the citizens.

You were at Billie’s and yours shared house, tanning by the pool, shirtless, of course.

Just how Billie liked it.

But Billie wasn’t here, she was working with her brother Finneas, trying to come up with a new song for her album “Hit me hard and soft”.

It was a lonely day, you did some chores, started a new painting, played with shark, but it just wasn’t the same without your beloved girlfriend.

On days like these, Billie would usually stay in the studio until sunrise, working hard.

You didn’t mind, you never did.

You love the work she does, it’s always amazing to listen to a new song, watch her edit it, cut it, come up with a cover for the album.

You loved that about her, her creative mind.

She was just as creative in bed…

You and Claudia decided to go shopping, get some new lingerie for your partners to fuck you in.

“Hey, Clauds? Do you like this?”

you asked her, waiting to for an answer.

You held up a black, Lacey lingerie-Set, dazzled with some sparks, but not too much, just how you liked it.

“Oh, Billie is going to freak out when she sees you in this!”

You bought the set after Claudia’s respond, excited to wear it for Billie tonight.

After you got home, you fed shark and got ready for bed, putting on the new lingerie, of course.

It was late, 2 am, to be exact, and Billie wasn’t home yet.

Just as you were wondering if you should call her, you heard the door open and close.

You decided to wait in your shared bedroom for Billie, sitting in bed with your legs crossed.

“Ugh, I had the worst fucking day of my life, today!”

Billie complained, not even looking at you, as she came through your bedroom door.

She angrily threw her bag on the floor and stripped just as aggressively.

“I can’t come up with one god damn song! And my manager keeps fucking things up! I told him to order confetti for the tour and he forgot! And then, he just tells me that it can’t be delivered till next May?! Dude, I’m going on tour in a few MONTHS, I don’t know what to do, I’m just so stressed….”

You listened to her complain, not saying anything and waiting for her to turn around.

“Hey mama, are you good, you haven’t said anythi-“

As Billie turned around, she stopped mid sentence, taking in your beauty.

It was like she was struck by lighting, trying to gather herself.

“Hi Billie…”

You sheepishly said, turning a little red when you saw Billie looking you up and down, stopping at your breasts.

“Hi, mama… what’s this for?”

“I went shopping with Claudia today, bought some new lingerie… do you like it?”

You asked her, knowing that she definitely did like it.

Billie crawled into bed, giving you a long, passionate kiss and deepening it by holding the back of your neck.

“Fuck, you look amazing…” she husked out breathlessly.

“I bought it just for you… I can relieve some of that stress you’ve got…”

Billie was getting wetter and hornier by the second, feeling like a hungry animal being teased with a perfect steak.

“Oh, I would love that…”

She replied taking off her bra, as she had already removed her clothes while complaining earlier.

Just as you were about to say something, she cut you off by kissing you.

She kissed your lips, then your neck, then wondered down to your panties, taking them off with her teeth.

She breathed in sharply, already wet for her.

“You’re so wet for me and I haven’t even touched you properly” Billie chuckled, while taking off your panties and shoving them in your mouth.

“If you keep quiet, I’ll reward you… if you don’t… well.. you know the drill.”

She was talking about your casual punishment, a spanking.

You secretly loved getting spanked by her, being bent over her lap, begging for mercy, being dominated by the only person who could make you feel this way…

Just as you were daydreaming about getting spanked, you felt Billie’s tongue on your clit.

Circling it clockwise, exactly how you linked it.

You let out a soft moan and a sigh, griping Billie’s hair.

Not being able to talk through the panties stuffed in your mouth, your moan came out muffled.

“Billie…”

“Shhh, didn’t I tell you to be quiet? Be a good girl for mommy…”

Billie’s dirty talking had no mercy on you, your wetness only growing with her words.

Billie continued licking, sucking and biting your clit, stimulating it just enough for you to get turned on but not enough to cum.

She thrusted two of her fingers inside you and you let out a long, lustful moan.

Billie was good at this, really good.

She knew when to speed up and when to stop to tease you and deny you of pleasure.

As she continued thrusting her finders in and out of you, you arched your back, gripping the white sheets under you.

Your moans got louder, and Billie’s finders faster.

“Come on baby, cum. Cum in mommy’s fingers…”

Were the last words you heard before reaching your climax, breaking completely underneath Billie.

Coming down from your high, Billie removed the panties from your mouth and replaced them with her two fingers, making you taste yourself.

“Suck.” She commanded, and you obeyed.

“Good girl, you did so good…” Billie whispered in your ear softly, biting your earlobe and placing a kiss on the small area behind your earlobe.

You were exhausted, obviously.

Having sex with Billie was one of the best but at the some time the most tiring things, and she knew that.

She knew that you loved aftercare afterwards, being babied by her.

She got up, leaving you all alone on the low cold bed and you complained by groaning.

“Billie, come back…”

“I’ll be right there baby, just hold on a sec.”

She replied from the bathroom.

Coming back, you saw that she has a bowl and a cloth in her hand.

She gently parted your legs, exposing your pussy to the cold air and started cleaning you up with the wet cloth.

You didn’t like the cold air hitting your warm, glistening pussy, so you whined, just like you always would.

“Shh I know, I know sweet girl, but mommy has to clean you up.”

After finishing cleaning you up, she placed a little kiss on your sensitive clit, making you jump.

Chuckling, she set the bowl and washcloth aside and gently placed you in her lap, holding you like moms hold their newborns.

Looking into your big eyes, she caressed your face, getting a few strands of hair out of the way.

“I’m so proud of you, sweet girl.

You know how to satisfy mommy,

you did a great job.

My sweet, sweet baby.”

She told you, making you feel validated.

You felt your eyelids get heavier and Billie noticed, placing a boob in your mouth, she nursed you.

It comforted you, having skin to skin with your girlfriend and lactating, feeling my the warm milk fill your mouth.

Billie wasn’t pregnant, no.

But after she found out you had a little thing for her boobs and nursing, she started taking pills to make her milk flow.

The things your mommy does for you…

Billie hummed a little melody, rocking you from side to side, helping you fall asleep.

“Sleep, my love. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

After that, you peacefully fell asleep in your girlfriend’s arms, wondering you deserved to be loved like this.

[dee-writes-anime]

So I saw that your requests are open and that you do JJK and I was wondering if you’d be interested in the idea buzzing in my brain for the past week. Nanami is a total jazz lover in my mind and there’s a jazz club in town and the reader is a jazz singer full of passion. I’m thinking Nanami falls head over heels for reader especially with her voice as she sings love songs. Also I love your work it’s fantastic and always a joy to read.

The Echoing, All-Encompassing Sound of Love

FEATURING Kento Nanami x Female Reader

SUMMARY The Blue Note was a place Nanami went to unwind after hard, long days of endless, meaningless work. It was a place for him to fall into the shadows and familiarity of the deep blues and jazz, it was a comfort, but nothing had ever touched him, enraptured him like you had when you stepped on that stage.

CONTENT WARNINGS fluff, cuteness, introspective??, Kento gushing over his WOMAN (bark bark bark), obsessed man, this is some deep, soulful shit yall, only edited ever so slightly T-T

AUTHORS NOTE I have no idea where I went with this or how it got to this point, but I really hope I brought your vision to life darling anon. <3

The jazz club, nestled in the heart of the city, is alive with an intimate, cozy energy. The space is dimly lit, with soft, warm lighting casting long shadows across the room. A thin haze of smoke lingers in the air, adding to the club's mystique. The gentle hum of quiet conversations mixes with the soft clinking of glasses and the occasional low laugh, creating a comforting backdrop for the evening.

At a small, round table near the stage, Kento Nanami sits, his posture relaxed yet composed. His impeccably tailored suit fits him perfectly, as always. He swirls a glass of whiskey in his hand, the amber liquid catching the faint light. His sharp gaze is focused on the stage, where musicians are setting up their instruments, tuning and adjusting, preparing for the night’s performance. The familiar ritual of the pre-show calm settles over him, a welcome escape from the chaos of his usual day-to-day life.

Nanami takes a sip of his drink, savoring the smooth burn as it slides down his throat, and leans back slightly in his chair. His eyes flicker around the room, taking in the scattered patrons, each one lost in their own world of jazz and ambiance. He’s been coming to this club for a few weeks now, drawn by the soothing allure of the music and the promise of an evening where the only battles to be fought are between trumpet solos and sultry saxophone notes.

He doesn’t know it yet, but tonight will be different. Tonight, a new performer is set to take the stage, and with her first note, Nanami’s world will begin to shift in ways he never expected.

Nanami wasn’t the type to indulge in luxuries. He preferred the quiet satisfaction of a well-brewed cup of coffee, the crisp pages of a book, the efficiency of a perfectly executed plan. But there was something about this jazz club that drew him in like a moth to a flame. The dim lighting, the haze of smoke, the low hum of the bass—these were not things he typically sought out, but here, in this place, they provided a strange sense of comfort.

Tonight, the club is alive with its usual hum of activity. Patrons sit scattered around small tables, their faces barely visible in the shadows, illuminated only by the soft glow of flickering candles. The scent of whiskey and old leather mingles with the faint traces of smoke, creating an atmosphere that is both timeless and ephemeral. The band on stage plays a slow, steady rhythm, a saxophone gently crying out a mournful tune that fills the room with a bittersweet nostalgia.

Nanami sits at his usual table, close enough to the stage to see every detail, yet far enough to remain unnoticed by most. He’s dressed impeccably, as always, his suit crisp and neat despite the casual setting. He swirls his glass of whiskey, watching the ice cubes clink softly against the sides, his gaze occasionally drifting to the stage. His mind is calm, his thoughts quieted by the gentle rhythm of the music. He’s been coming here for weeks now, finding solace in the music, in the anonymity of the darkened room.

But tonight is different.

The moment you step on stage, something shifts in the air. It’s as if the very essence of the club changes, the room becoming quieter, the audience collectively holding its breath in anticipation. Nanami feels it too—a subtle tightening in his chest, a flutter he can’t quite name. He watches as you move into the spotlight, the soft, golden light catching on the sequins of your dress, making you shimmer like a dream. Your eyes are closed, your posture relaxed yet poised, as if you’re in a world all your own.

And then you start to sing.

The first note is like a whisper, gentle and soft, yet it carries through the room with a clarity that demands attention. Your voice is unlike anything Nanami has ever heard—smooth as honey, rich as velvet, with a depth that speaks of experiences and emotions he can only begin to imagine. Each note is carefully controlled, each word filled with emotion, and he finds himself leaning forward slightly, his focus entirely on you.

As you continue, your voice grows stronger, more confident, filling the room with a warmth that wraps around everyone like a comforting embrace. The lyrics are a love song, simple yet profound, speaking of longing and hope, of heartache and desire. Nanami feels each word as if it’s directed at him, as if you’re singing just for him, your gaze occasionally sweeping across the audience, and he can’t help but wonder if you see him.

The way you move on stage is mesmerizing. You sway gently to the rhythm, your hands occasionally rising to emphasize a particularly powerful line. There’s a passion in your performance, a raw emotion that spills out with every note, making it impossible to look away. Nanami’s heart races, a strange sensation for someone usually so composed. He doesn’t know why, but something about you, about this moment, feels significant—like a turning point he didn’t see coming.

He takes a slow sip of his whiskey, the liquid warming him from the inside out, but it’s nothing compared to the warmth your voice brings. As you hit a high note, the room seems to hold its breath, and Nanami feels a shiver run down his spine. He’s never felt so captivated, so drawn to someone. It’s as if your voice is a thread, pulling him closer, wrapping around his heart and refusing to let go.

For the first time in a long while, Nanami feels something beyond the constant grind of his duties. He feels alive, his senses heightened by the music, by your presence. He doesn’t know who you are, doesn’t know your story, but in this moment, none of that matters. All that matters is the music, the way your voice makes him feel, and the strange, undeniable pull he feels toward you.

He tries to stay for the rest of the night, anticipating the moment he can go up and introduce himself when all the performers do crowd work. However, it seems his phone has different plans as it buzzes insistently in the back pocket of his slacks, calling him cruelly away from the opportunity to catch your name, to hear your voice once more. Kento Nanami doesn't consider a man who's easy to anger, but that night, having lost the opportunity to know you, to catch just a single glimpse at your soul again, he can't help but feel his blood boil under his skin.

As he leaves the club, he convinces himself that he will see you again, that he will take the next opportunity as it comes and talk to you.

And that is how Kento Nanami quickly becomes a fixture at The Blue Note, his visits growing more frequent, timed perfectly to coincide with your performances.

He never deviates from his routine: arriving a few minutes before your set, he always sits at the same small table near the stage, his broad shoulders relaxed yet somehow still commanding in his perfectly tailored suit. He orders a single glass of whiskey, savoring it slowly throughout the evening.

His presence is quiet but unyielding, like a shadow that’s always there, watching, observing. Every time you step on stage, his gaze is already on you, unwavering, a steady anchor amidst the flickering candlelight and swirling smoke. It’s a look that’s intense, focused, as if he’s trying to unravel the secrets hidden within each note you sing.

You’ve noticed him, of course—how could you not? At first, he was just another face in the crowd, another patron drawn to the allure of jazz and dim lighting. But as the weeks passed, you found your eyes lingering on him more and more, intrigued by his quiet demeanor, the way he seemed to hang on to every word you sang. There was a mystery about him, a sense of restraint that made you wonder what thoughts lay hidden behind those piercing eyes.

As the days turn into weeks, his presence becomes a comfort, a constant in the ever-changing tide of the club’s clientele. You start to look for him as you step on stage, your gaze naturally drifting to his usual spot. The way he watches you feels different from the others—more profound, more attentive, as if he’s listening not just with his ears, but with his entire being.

And each time you sing, you can’t help but feel a strange connection to him, a silent understanding that grows stronger with every performance. His steady gaze becomes a source of inspiration, a quiet encouragement that pushes you to pour even more of yourself into each song. It’s almost as if you’re singing just for him, even though you’ve never exchanged a single word.

One evening, after a particularly soulful rendition of an old jazz standard, you notice him again. He’s there, as always, sitting at his usual table, his eyes following you with that same intense focus. But tonight feels different. There’s something in his gaze that you can’t quite place—an emotion that lingers in the air like the final note of a song.

The club is quieter than usual tonight, the dim lights casting long shadows across the room. As you step off the stage, your heart still pounding from the performance, you find yourself drawn to him, almost against your will. You’re not sure what compels you—perhaps it’s the curiosity that’s been building inside you for weeks, or maybe it’s the intensity of his focus, the way he seems to see right through you, as if he knows every emotion behind your songs.

You make your way through the tables, your steps slow and deliberate, your heart beating a little faster with each one. As you approach, you notice the subtle shift in his expression—his eyes widening slightly, a flicker of surprise passing across his otherwise stoic face. He sets his glass down carefully, his movements calm and measured, but you can see the tension in the way he sits up straighter, his gaze never leaving yours.

“Hi,” you say softly, your voice carrying just above the soft hum of the club. Up close, you notice the sharp angles of his face, the way his hair falls neatly over his forehead, and the intensity of his eyes—eyes that are watching you with a mixture of curiosity and something else, something deeper.

He nods slightly, his lips curling into the faintest hint of a smile. “Hello,” he replies, his voice low and smooth, matching the ambiance of the club perfectly. There’s a moment of silence, the kind that hangs heavy with unspoken questions and unsaid words.

You take a breath, steadying yourself. “I’ve noticed you here before,” you say, trying to sound casual, though your heart is racing. “You come to listen a lot.”

Nanami’s eyes soften, and he nods again. “I do,” he admits, his gaze steady and sincere. “You have a… remarkable voice. It’s not something one can easily forget.”

His words catch you off guard, the sincerity in them striking a chord deep within you. You smile, a genuine, warm smile that reaches your eyes. “Thank you. That means a lot, coming from you.”

He tilts his head slightly, a subtle curiosity playing across his features. “From me?”

You nod, feeling a strange sense of comfort in his presence. “Yes. You always seem so… focused. It’s hard not to wonder what you’re thinking.”

Nanami chuckles softly, a rare sound that seems to surprise even him. “I suppose I’m just… listening,” he says, his voice thoughtful. “Trying to understand the emotion behind each song. You sing with such passion; it’s hard not to be drawn in.”

Your heart flutters at his words, at the honesty in them. For a moment, the world outside fades away, and it’s just the two of you in this small, smoky club, sharing a connection that feels almost tangible.

As the evening goes on, the conversation flows naturally, each word revealing a little more about the enigmatic man who has been such a mystery to you. And as you talk, you find yourself wanting to know more, to understand the quiet strength behind his stoic exterior, and to uncover the emotions that lie beneath his calm façade.

Tonight, you’ve taken the first step into a new rhythm, one that neither of you could have anticipated.

But your exploration ends there-- at least, for the time being as Nanami finds himself pulled back into the Jujutsu world, all his extra time lost to consistent missions and training as a grade-one sorcerer.

It's only about a month later that he is finally able to force just enough time into his exhausting schedule to come see you again, the dim glow of the jazz club's lights dances across the walls, and the familiar hum of chatter fills the room as patrons settle in for another night of music.

Nanami sits at his usual table, but tonight feels different. His normally calm and composed demeanor is slightly frayed at the edges. His fingers tap nervously against the rim of his glass, and he takes a slow, deep breath. He’s been thinking about this moment for weeks, rehearsing his words, imagining every possible outcome.

He can no longer ignore the pull he feels toward you—the singer who has become more than just a beautiful voice on stage. Every performance has drawn him deeper into your world, and he finds himself wanting more. He wants to know you, to understand the person behind the melodies that have captivated him so completely.

As the final notes of your current song fade, you take a small bow, the audience’s applause a warm, familiar comfort. When you lift your gaze, your eyes naturally drift to his spot, widening ever so slightly when you see him watching you with that same intense focus. There’s something different in his expression tonight, a hint of determination that makes your heart skip a beat.

When the set ends, you make your way offstage, your steps lighter than usual. As you head toward the bar for a drink, you see him rise from his table, his tall figure cutting through the smoky haze of the club. He’s coming toward you, his movements purposeful but not rushed. There’s a resolve in his stride, a quiet confidence that makes your pulse quicken with anticipation.

“Hi again,” you greet him with a smile as he approaches, leaning casually against the bar. Up close, he’s as striking as ever, his presence commanding but not overpowering. There’s a softness to his eyes tonight, a warmth that wasn’t there before. "Long time no see."

“Hello,” he responds, his voice a touch lower than usual, an embarrassed blush lightly dusting his sharp cheekbones. He pauses for a moment, searching for the right words. You can see the faintest hint of nervousness in the way he briefly glances away before meeting your gaze again. “I wanted to… say something.” He hesitates, then continues, “First, I wanted to apologize for my absence after our conversation. I see how it might seem that my lack of attendance is directly related, and I want to make it clear that it wasn't."

"That's alright," you say so sweetly, your voice dripping with a honey that doesn't reach the stage. It makes him pause, that soulful tone that you sing with is so at odds with your personality it almost makes him want to enquire whether or not you are the same woman.

But he has more important things to do, like reveal his truth. "A-and also.. your voice… it moves me in ways I can’t quite explain. It’s like every note, every word carries a piece of you, and… it reaches me.”

His confession is quiet, almost lost in the low murmur of the club, but the sincerity in his voice makes your heart swell. There’s a vulnerability in his eyes now, a rare glimpse of the man beneath the composed exterior.

A smile tugs at your lips, and you feel a playful urge to lighten the moment. “So, does that make you my most dedicated fan?” you tease gently, your eyes sparkling with amusement.

Nanami chuckles softly, a hint of color rising in his cheeks. “I suppose it does,” he admits, a small, genuine smile breaking through his usual stoicism. “I can’t seem to stay away.”

There’s a moment of shared laughter, and in that instant, the tension between you softens, replaced by a warm, unspoken connection. It’s a feeling that’s been building for weeks, and now, standing here with him, it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

“Do you have a favorite song from my set?” you ask, curious to know more about the quiet man who seems to hang on your every word.

Without a second’s hesitation, he answers, “The ballad you sing—the one about longing and quiet devotion. It… resonates with me.”

You nod, recognizing the song he’s referring to. It’s one of your favorites too, a song filled with deep emotions, a story of unspoken love and silent yearning. His choice surprises you, but it also makes your heart flutter. There’s something incredibly personal about his answer, something that touches a place deep within you.

As the evening progresses, you prepare for the next set. Nanami returns to his table, but there’s a newfound lightness in his demeanor, a subtle shift in his posture. You take the stage again, the band picking up the soft, familiar notes of the ballad he mentioned. The room falls silent as you begin to sing.

Your voice carries through the club, each note delicate and filled with emotion. As you sing, your eyes search the crowd, drawn inevitably to him. When your gaze finally meets his, it feels like the air is charged with electricity. His eyes are locked on yours, and suddenly, the song takes on a whole new meaning. It’s no longer just a performance; it’s a conversation, a silent exchange of feelings that neither of you has dared to voice until now.

The words spill from your lips with a newfound intensity, each lyric filled with the raw emotion that’s been building inside you since the moment you first saw him. The love song, once a simple ballad, now feels like a confession, a declaration wrapped in melody. You can see it in his eyes too—a depth of feeling that mirrors your own, a quiet devotion that makes your heart race.

As the final note fades into the silence, you realize that the room has disappeared, leaving just the two of you connected by the invisible thread of the music. The applause is distant, a faint echo of reality, but all you can focus on is the way he’s looking at you—as if you are the only person in the world.

In that moment, under the soft glow of the club’s lights, something shifts between you. It’s a beginning, a step into uncharted territory, but it feels right. And as you both stand there, wrapped in the warmth of the song and the quiet understanding between you, you know that whatever comes next, it’s a melody you’re both eager to explore.

It's not long before the nights at The Blue Note become something more than just performances and applause. After the crowd disperses and the lights dim, the club transforms into a sanctuary of quiet conversations and shared silences. Nanami stays longer now, his reserved demeanor softening with each passing evening. You sit together at the bar or at his usual table near the stage, sometimes talking late into the night, sometimes just sitting in a comfortable silence that says more than words ever could.

You’ve come to look forward to these moments—the way Nanami listens so intently when you speak, as if every word matters, the way his eyes soften when he catches you smiling. There’s a calm about him, a quiet strength that you find yourself drawn to more and more. He never pushes, never asks for more than you’re willing to give. Instead, he’s just… there. A steady presence that has quickly become a constant in your life.

You learn things about him in these quiet hours. He speaks of his work in vague terms, his shoulders tensing slightly whenever the topic drifts too close. But he’s open about his love for jazz, about how he finds solace in the melodies and rhythms. He tells you about the first time he heard you sing, how something inside him shifted, how he knew he would return again and again.

In return, you share pieces of yourself with him—stories of your childhood, your love for music, and how it’s the one thing that has always made you feel truly alive. You tell him about the first time you sang on a stage, how nervous you were, and how that fear melted away the moment you began to sing. He listens with an intensity that makes you feel seen, truly seen, in a way you haven’t felt in a long time.

As the days turn into weeks, an unspoken bond forms between you. It’s there in the way Nanami orders your favorite drink without you asking, in the way he waits for you to finish after every performance, ready with a quiet smile and a listening ear. It’s in the way you look for him in the crowd, your heart lifting just a little each time you find him sitting at his usual spot, watching you with that steady, unyielding gaze.

You begin to see the depth of Nanami in the little things—the way he’s always mindful of your space, the way he listens more than he speaks, and how his rare, gentle smiles are more precious than any grand gesture. He shows his affection in thoughtful ways—a book he thought you might like, a warm cup of tea on a rainy night, a steady hand at your back when you’re feeling overwhelmed.

It’s these moments, small but meaningful, that make you realize just how much he’s come to mean to you. He’s become more than just a regular at the club, more than just a face in the crowd. He’s someone you’ve come to rely on, someone whose presence brings a sense of calm and comfort that you hadn’t realized you were missing.

Tonight, the club is busier than usual, the crowd buzzing with energy. You’re back on stage, the warm glow of the spotlight casting a soft halo around you. The band starts to play the familiar opening notes of a love song, the same ballad Nanami had mentioned that night—the one filled with longing and quiet devotion. Your heart flutters with a mix of nerves and excitement. Tonight feels different, charged with a new kind of energy.

As you begin to sing, your eyes naturally seek him out. Nanami is there, as always, sitting at his usual table. But tonight, there’s no distance between you. He’s no longer just a quiet admirer in the shadows; he’s someone who knows your stories, someone who’s seen you in your most vulnerable moments. And when your gaze meets his, it’s like the whole room falls away, leaving just the two of you connected by the music.

Your voice carries through the club, each note filled with a tenderness that wasn’t there before. You sing for him now, every word an unspoken confession, every melody a shared memory. The song is more than just a performance; it’s a dialogue, a way to say all the things you haven’t yet put into words.

Nanami watches you with a quiet intensity, his eyes soft and warm. You can see the emotion there, the depth of feeling that he so rarely shows. And as you sing, you can feel it too—a warmth spreading through your chest, a sense of belonging that makes you feel more alive than ever.

The final notes of the song hang in the air, a delicate echo that slowly fades into the silence. The crowd erupts in applause, but all you hear is the quiet, steady beat of your heart, all you see is the way Nanami’s lips curve into a gentle, knowing smile.

You take a small bow, but your eyes never leave his. There’s a shared understanding between you, a silent promise that whatever comes next, you’ll face it together. And in that moment, under the soft lights of the club, with the music still lingering in the air, you know that you’ve found something special—something worth holding onto.

As the night draws to a close and the crowd begins to thin, you make your way off the stage, your steps light and purposeful. Nanami is waiting for you, his figure a steady presence amidst the shifting shadows. He doesn’t say anything as you approach, but his eyes speak volumes—filled with a quiet devotion that makes your heart swell.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs softly, his voice carrying just above the soft hum of the remaining patrons.

“Thank you,” you reply, a smile tugging at your lips. “For everything.”

Nanami nods, his expression gentle, and without another word, he offers you his hand. You take it, feeling the warmth of his touch, the strength of his grip—a silent promise that whatever comes next, you won’t have to face it alone.

And as you stand there, hand in hand, with the music still echoing softly around you, you can’t help but feel like you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

[winchesterwild78]

Austin Nights

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Steve Carlson-mentioned, Radio Company Band mentioned.

Warnings: SMUT! Unprotected sexual contact, (cover it up), oral sex

A/N: The wonderful, amazing, beautiful, sweaty photos of Jensen at the Radio Company concerts gave me this idea. This is just pure SMUT and FANTASY! Sorry not sorry, but that man makes me FERAL! Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d find a man dripping with sweat so attractive my common sense flies out the window and I’d be willing to lick him dry. 🤭 Sorry, so yeah, this story does not depict real life. (Much to my dismay. 😀) Written fast and edited fast, please overlook any errors. Do not copy or take my work.

Minors DNI 18+

The lights dimmed, casting long, dancing shadows across the intimate venue. The crowd roared as Radio Company took the stage, but for Jensen, he couldn’t take his eyes off the woman who stood in the front row surrounded by her group of friends. 

He’d seen you laughing and dancing when Louden Swain was on stage, and he was instantly drawn to you. Backstage before Jensen and Steve took to the stage, Steve asked Jensen what had him so mesmerized. Jensen smiled and nodded his head towards you. 

He couldn’t tell what color eyes you had, but he knew they sparkled when you laughed. Finally the moment you had been waiting for, Radio Company was on about to play. You’d been a fan of Jensen’s for years, and you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to come see him in such an intimate setting. 

Your friends and you were able to snag tickets before they sold out, and you were waiting at the front row with baited breath. 

Steve and Jensen came on stage and introduced everyone in the band. You watched every move Jensen made and when the two of you locked eyes on each other, your breath hitched. Jensen would flash that killer smile, you’d blush and look away. Your friends were laughing when they saw you turn red. 

“I think Jensen’s checking you out, Y/N.” Your friend squealed. You laughed, “Yeah right, you’re dreaming.” 

As the night wore on the venue was getting hot and sweat was running down your body. Jensen was just as sweaty. You couldn’t help but bite your lip at the sight of his damped hair, sweat trickling down his neck and dipping below the collar of his shirt. 

Jensen ran his fingers through his wet hair and the wet strands fell around the curves of his face. As he continued singing, goosebumps erupted on your skin and you could feel the arousal settling in your core. 

Jensen’s voice was magnetic and every note his sang pulled you closer to him. The two of you would lock eyes and you’d bite your lip. When Jensen sang “Ain’t No Telling” he stared at you the whole time. 

His body moved with perfect rhythm to each song and all you could think of was how his body would feel above or under yours. You clenched your thighs together, feeling your growing arousal. 

When Jensen started gyrating the room went wild. He moved his hips and body back and forth like he was taking you in the best possible way. You licked your lips and your breath quickened. 

As the concert came to an end you needed to find a way to cool off. You told your friends you’d meet them outside, and you went to the restroom. Standing at the sink, you splashed water on your face and chest. Your shirt was soaked from sweat and water, and you could clearly see your blue lace bra through the wet material. 

Walking out of the bathroom you ran into something solid, well, someone. It was Jensen. He grabbed your arms to prevent you from falling, and his touch sent electricity and goosebumps through your body. 

His smell was intoxicating, it was a mixture of his cologne, sweat, beer and mint gum. Your walls quivered with anticipation. “Hi, I’m Jensen, and you are?” He flashed his smile at you. “I’m Y/N, it’s nice to officially meet you.” You shook his hand. “I’m sorry I ran into you. I should have been paying attention.” He smiled, “It’s okay darling. So did you enjoy the show tonight?” 

“Oh yes, very much. It was unbelievable. You sounded incredible.” You smiled softly at Jensen as he stepped closer to you. He cupped your face and leaned in closer. He was looking between your lips and your eyes. You licked your lips and leaned closer.

Jensen’s lips pressed softly against yours, his hands finding your hair, and your hands sliding behind his neck and your fingers running through his damp hair. He deepened the kiss by swiping his tongue over your lip, you parted your mouth allowing him entrance. 

As the kiss heated up, you moaned into his mouth. He backed you into a room, kicking the door shut with his foot and he locked it. Once inside The two of you started shedding clothes like they were on fire. Jensen pressed your naked body against the cold wall and a shiver went down your body. 

Jensen’s fingers were trailing down your body and his lips kissed down your neck to your breasts. His tongue flicked each nipple, causing it to harden. You could feel your arousal running down your thighs. 

Your head tilted back as Jensen’s fingers found your folds and slipped between them. “Oh Jensen,” You whispered. Jensen’s finger slipped inside you and you moaned. He began moving his thick digit in and out, hooking it up and hitting your g-spot. You moved your hips in time with his movements, chasing your release.

Jensen slipped in another finger, causing you to gasp. His movement became faster as he felt your walls tighten. “Oh God, yes!” He moaned. “Tell me what you want sweetheart.” “You, please I want you to fill me up.” “Mmm, not yet baby girl, cum for me first. I want to feel you come undone on my fingers.”

You panted as Jensen hooked his fingers inside you and with each thrust he pushed you closer to your release. Jensen leaned into your ear “Cum for me baby, let go.” You came hard and he kept pumping, causing you to scream out in ecstasy.

Jensen kissed your lips with a smirk on his face, “That’s it baby, let it all go.” You felt yourself cum again and your legs started to tremble. 

Your body responded to his touch like no other man. You opened your eyes and took in his gorgeous toned body and saw his hardened length. You licked your lips with anticipation. The need to feel him inside you was growing with every second, but you really wanted to taste him too. 

You dropped to your knees, taking his length in your hand, you licked the pink tip of his engorged cock. He sucked in air and instinctively grabbed your head when you started sucking him down your throat. He started fucking your mouth fast, causing tears to well in your eyes. 

“Fuck, that feels so good!” Jensen moaned. You took him deep down your throat, using your tongue to lick and swirl around his shaft. As you pulled his cock out you let it pop a bit. A little string of spit and precum formed between your mouth and his cock. 

You looked up at him and his eyes were dark with lust. Jensen helped you up and pushed you back towards the couch. As your legs hit the couch, you fell down. You giggled and Jensen laughed. You laid back on the couch and Jensen climbed between your legs. 

He positioned his cock to your entrance and pushed in. Both of you gasped, your hands gripped his shoulders, and his head fell to the crook of your neck. “Damn sweetheart, you feel so incredible.” 

“Please, Jensen.” You begged. “Please what?” “I need you to move, I want to feel every inch of you, please.” “Mmm I like you begging.” He smirked. Jensen bottomed out and you gasped. He pulled out and pushed back in, pushing you further into the cushion. Your legs wrapped around him as he pushed deeper inside you. Every thrust, every inch pushing in and hitting that spot again. 

Jensen pulled you up with him and your legs were on either side of his thighs. You steadied yourself on his length by holding onto his broad shoulders. You started bouncing up and down, taking every inch of his cock deep inside. Each bounce you could feel Jensen’s cock hitting your cervix. Your breasts were bouncing and Jensen’s hands were gripping your hips tightly. You knew you’d have bruises tomorrow. His mouth sucked on your nipples as you threw your head back grinding your body into him. 

Jensen flipped you back over onto your back. Your body and his body were glistening with sweat. You could feel your release building again. The sound of panting and moans mingled in the air with the sounds of flesh hitting flesh. “Oh fuck, Y/N, you feel so good. Your pussy stretching around me and taking every inch of me.” You felt your release close, “Jensen, I’m gonna cum.” “Me too, fuck! Cum with me.” With one final thrust, Jensen came as your release hit. Your walls clenching around his length, milking his hot seed out, as he coated your walls.

As Jensen began to soften, he pulled out. Spilling some of his seed out onto the couch. He grabbed some towels and cleaned you up, then him. He wiped the couch up and threw the towel to the side. 

“You were amazing, Y/N. Damn that felt good.” Your face was blushed with redness from heat and sex, “You weren’t half bad yourself, Ackles.” You grinned at him. 

“Oh, not half bad? Okay, I guess we’re gonna have to go another round then.” He smiled as he kissed your lips. You grinned, “I think I can handle that, but let’s go home first. I’d rather be in our bed.”

The two of you got dressed and before Jensen unlocked the door he kissed you again, “The kids are staying at Jared and Gen’s house tonight, so I’ve got you all to myself, Mrs. Ackles.” “Good, because I’m not finished with you yet, Mr. Ackles.” 

He laughed and kissed your forehead, grabbing your hand and walking with you towards the car. “I love you, Y/N.” “I love you too, Jens.”

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@kindollss

[kumezyzo]

masterlist

Images began spreading unlike anything the media had ever really expected. They were all of you and Luigi. Well, really, how could anyone be angry about it? You were both beautiful. Something about the way you looked together was… unlike anyone had seen before

Although, the reason why these pictures were circulating so freely now was… not as wonderful. Luigi had finally been arrested.

There were reporters waiting outside your home now, hoping to catch a glimpse of you, a statement even. They were shameless, really. And the public wasn’t any better, really. Or more so… your coworkers.

You called off of work, even though you weren’t sure if your bank account would appreciate the act of self-preservation. The news had caught wind of your chat with the detectives.

People began to see you as a saint. Others saw you as a liar, even more believed you to be pitiful. You sounded small, desperate even. But they knew for a fact that someone who managed to get a ring from Luigi Mangione would protect him to the ends of the earth.

Regardless of what others believed for you, it was as if your life had truly, finally, fallen apart. You cried upon hearing the news. You didn’t cry because you hadn’t wanted him to get caught. No, you cried because you knew that regardless of the outcome of the court trial, your lives wouldn’t be the same.

That was clear to you because a clip of yours surfaced. It wasn’t yours so to speak, it was one that his sister filmed and you posted to your social medias. The day he proposed.

“Lu, where are we going!” You shouted, giggles falling from your lips as he pulled you ahead of his family. It seemed like he had a sudden surge of energy, grabbing you by your hand as you guys arrived at the park. It was the park he asked your out. It was his sisters idea to take a walk after family dinner.

He suddenly stopped, sending you crashing into him. He laughed as he held you up, steadying your footing. Despite your confusion, you couldn’t help but smile with him. He pressed his lips tenderly against yours. You smiled, hiding your face from his family, who was slowly catching up to you.

“What are you-” You began asking, watching him slowly get down on one knee. You swore you could feel your heart skip too many beats to be medically normal. “Oh, my god.”

Your hands shot up to your mouth as he smiled, opening up the small black box in his hand. Your heart was now beginning to beat out of your chest. Tears began filling your eyes, his only mirroring yours as he opened his mouth to speak.

He spoke your name like it was meant to be said by his lips only, “You are the love of my life. I couldn’t imagine spending the last four years with anyone else. I mean, you’ve been with me through so much and never once complained,” His voice and hands shook as he spoke. Even when he seemed so unsure of his words, his eyes told you everything. He already knew your answer. “I know you’re too good for me, but I can’t possibly imagine spending the rest of my life with anyone else. So… will you marry me?”

You let out a sob, unable to muster up any words. You could only nod, letting him shakily slip the ring onto your finger. His family began cheering at the sight. He smiled as a tear fell past his cheek. He stood up, engulfing you in a hug. The sheer strength in his hold told you that he more than loved you. It felt like you could live in eachothers skin. He spun you around, happiness and excitement gushing from both of you. 

You let out a watery giggle, “I love you.”

“I love you more,” He said, holding your face in hands before kissing you deeply. You both melted into the kiss, salty tears mingling between your lips.

You still remember that day like yesterday. Watching it from another perspective was just as emotional. Or maybe it was because that time felt like another lifetime. Or maybe because it was being used in edits with the song "Young and Beautiful" by Lana Del Rey.

I've had this in my drafts for a while. but it felt appropriate to continue it now for some reason. 🤷🏽‍♀️ -nony

[strangelysamantha]

blue moon ❀

damon salvatore x fem!reader.

warnings: swearing.

words: 973.

summary: coming back to mystic falls in the hope that you'll reunite with your former lover, damon salvatore.

request? no

a/n: cute little fluff :) the rendition of the song im speaking of is blue moon sha na na but specifically the grease edition because its slower paced.

my masterlist

————————————————————————-

blue moon,

you saw me standing alone,

without a dream in my heart,

without a love of my own.

you sat at the mystic grill. it was a friday night, the grill was always swarming with people then. you had recently came back. you moved away for five years trying to reshape your life after being turned. you weren’t expecting much to come out of it, the only reason you showed was to see who was still in town. you walk to a bar stool, claiming it. you ask for a shot, ready to let loose.

you saw a lot of familiar faces. none you were too particularly interested in. honestly; you were just hoping to run into an old lover. you look around, after a few more shots you stood up from the bar. there was no sign of him anywhere. you grab your jacket, heading outside. you stroll the streets of town. the breeze crisp, the sky dark.

you're at the bridge now, stumbling throughout the night. you look down at the water, mind drowning with your own thoughts. the peacefulness took over, you gracefully make your way back to the center of town. the stroll allowed you to calm your nerves, maybe he wasn't here. a certain chill ran throughout your spine then. looking down, a crow rests in front of you on the sidewalk. you eye it, intrigued. after a longing look, you continue down the path.

blue moon, you knew just what i was there for, you heard me saying a prayer for, someone i really could care for.

you end up at the grill again, heading inside you scope the place. you head to the bathroom, wanting to take a breather before socializing. after a last glance in the mirror, you leave the bathroom. your eyes fall onto a figure, occupying your seat you had claimed earlier. his black hair fell at his shoulders, a black leatherjacket snug on his skin. your heart stops, a breath caught in your throat. you wanted to see him yes, but the fact he was in front of you, downing bourbon as he talks to another gentleman gave you butterflies. you hesitate, tempted to start a conversation. you decide against it, not wanting him to get an ego at your rush of a reunion.

you grab a few darts, throwing them at the board. "hey." you look over. a girl with blonde hair, and blue eyes, grins excitingly. "hi?" you question. "have i seen you before?" she asks softly. "it's my first day in town actually." her face contorts into confusion. "i lived here five years ago though." you reassure. "hmm, i wonder where i've seen you." you laugh slightly, "i'm not sure." she shrugs, "well it's nice to meet you. i'm caroline!" you nod, "it's nice to meet you caroline." she happily bounces towards the bar, grabbing shots. you laugh slightly to yourself, surprised by her bubbly personality. you get back to throwing darts. you send one flying to the board, a hand reaches out and grabs it before it can land. "hi darling." damon hands the dart back to you, smirking. "hello, damon." you bite your lip slightly, "i think you owe me a drink or two." he grins, taking your arm. "of course." he leads you to the bar stool next to his pal from earlier. "this is alaric, he's a great drinking buddy." you reach a handout, "and who's this?" he questions.

damon places one of his hands on your back, rubbing it gently. "this is a sight for sore eyes. a treasure if you will." his words surprise you. "i've been waiting for this moment rick." you join in, "it's been way too long damon." he nods agreeing. "hey donavon!" the bartender walks over, groaning. "yes?" his voice is laced with agitation already. "shots please and keep them coming."

he walked away, damon glances over, his lips pulled into a smirk. “where have you been all this time?” you hesitate, “working on myself. but i’m good now.” the bartender pours three shots. “what have you been up too damon?” alaric intervenes, "terrorizing the citizens of mystic falls." his comment made you chuckle, "so nothing's changed huh." the three of you down the shots together. "nothing at all."

alaric calls it a night, having school tomorrow. leaving you and damon alone at the bar. "im really glad you decided to come back." you smile softly at his confession, "im glad you're still here. i was worried i'd come back, and you'd have fled already." he tilts his head to the side, his eyes locked with yours. "i guess i stayed because a part of me knew you would come back for me." it was getting late now; the bar was emptying. "i've missed you a lot damon."

and then there suddenly appeared before me the only one my arms will hold i heard somebody whisper, "please, adore me" and when i looked, the moon had turned to gold

he couldn't resist. he softly cups your chin, pulling you into a soft and tender kiss. you gently kiss back, you run your hands through his hair. you pulled away softly, "may you join me in a dance?" you asked. he grinned, "of course." he takes your hand, leading you to an empty space inside the mystic grill. slow music was playing over the speakers. you held damon close, your head on his chest, he held your waist firmly, his other hand holding yours. "can i stay with you?" you lift your head to look at him. "anything. ask for whatever and i will personally make sure you get it." he squeezes your waist, spinning you around, kissing you again.

blue moon, now i'm no longer alone, without a dream in my heart, without a love of my own.

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

good omens mascot here, just some thoughts

Hey, Good Omens fans. Do you all know how important you are?

I need you to. I need you to know how important you are. How loved you are. How talented, and friendly, and loving you are.

I mean, look at us. @neil-gaiman and Terry Pratchett created a story, a bonfire in the woods. And so many people gathered around it, some looking for the fire, some drawn in by the warmth, some, like me, just lost in the woods and stumbling into the clearing.

And those people looked at the fire and began to weave stories of their own, told them to each other, stories filled with possibilities and endless what-ifs, and called them fanfiction.

Some people looked at the fire and saw images instead, and began to make art on the ground, on the tree trunks, on each other's skin. Colours and lines and so much beauty, all decorating this one little clearing with fanart. Some even moved, animated, brought to life by endless love and creativity.

Some took up little flaming twigs from the fire and twisted them in new ways, humming songs they remembered to go with the patterns, filling the clearing with new combinations of sparks. So many fan edits.

Some of the people even wrote songs of their own, singing them to each other. Some made jokes, drawing laughter from those who thought they'd never smile again. So many more ways in which the people gathered around the bonfire made the story a part of them, and made themselves a part of the story.

There were other people, too. They thought that they didn't contribute anything. They were wrong about that. The artists and writers and creators were so grateful to them for listening, for loving, for appreciating. They held each other's hands and cried and laughed together. They silently watched, finding warmth, not knowing they were giving strength to other silent watchers.

So many fans who made the bonfire's clearing home, reaching out with kindness to each other.

And I'm so privileged to have been grabbed by laughing, friendly people, pulled into the clearing, and shown the fire. Isn't that such a wonderful thing?

You are those people. You did what humans have been doing for millennia, you gathered around a fire and you formed a community, you made a home right there in the middle of the wilderness, with just a story holding you together. Well, not just. A story is never just a story.

Look at you.

So utterly, utterly beautiful.

I love you all. I'm so grateful for you all, the creators, Neil, Terry, the cast, the crew, the fans, all of you. For this little clearing in the woods, which I wandered into by accident while I was lost in the forest, looking for a friend.

I love you all, you are loved.

That's all, maggots. Goodbye, I have some fanfiction to read :")

[morgana-larkin]

Ok so I saw a post from @dashbag-art about a guitar in Melissa’s classroom and asked for a fic in which Mel serenades her lover, so here it is! Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: I’ve got like 4 fics I’m working on right now, 3 of them are prompts and the other is Mine Part 8. Stay on the lookout! Oh and Y/M/N means your middle name. 😊

At The Beginning

Warnings: just a lot of fluff

Words: 1,002 (short but sweet)

Melissa knows how much you love music, from singing in the car to singing and dancing in bars, your life revolves around music. Which is why she knows the perfect way to pop the question.

Melissa takes a deep breath as she paces yet again, in her classroom. She plans to ask you as soon as you come to get her from her classroom like always. The trio and Barb know of her plan and she made them swear to keep it from you unless they want a bat to the head. Janine took both of their classes to the gym after lunch when she saw how nervous Melissa was.

“Melissa dear, you’re sweating.” Barb says, a minute after the bell rings.

“I’m just really nervous.” Melissa says as she walks a little bit closer to her friend.

“I know dear, but it’ll be great. You’ve been practicing so much for the past couple weeks and you know she’s gonna say yes no matter what.” Barb tells her, trying to comfort her.

“I know, I just want to show her how much I love her and I don’t want to mess it up.”

“Even if you do, she won’t care. She’ll love the thought alone.”

“I think the kids will love the project next week.” Barb and Melissa both turn when they hear you talk to Janine.

“Here she comes, good luck.” Barb says before leaving.

Melissa takes a deep breath as she grabs her guitar. She watches you walk in by yourself and your face changes to confusion when you see Melissa holding her guitar. Melissa starts playing the guitar and looks at you as she starts singing.

“We were strangers, starting out on a journey. Never dreaming what we’d have to go through. Now here we are, I’m suddenly standing, at the beginning with you.”

Melissa starts singing the song and you immediately start smiling. Melissa continues singing.

“No one told me, I was going to find you. Unexpected, what you did to my heart. When I lost hope, you were there to remind me. This is the start. And life is a road that I wanna keep going. Love is a river that I wanna keep flowing. Life is a road, now and forever, wonderful journey. I’ll be there when the world stops turning, I’ll be there when the storm is through. In the end I want to be standing at the beginning with you.” Melissa continues singing and you can’t help but walk closer to her and put your stuff on a nearby desk.

“We were strangers on a crazy adventure. Never dreaming how our dreams would come true. Now here we stand, unafraid of the future. At the beginning with you.” Melissa continues playing the guitar and looks at you with a smile. “Wanna sing the chorus with me?” She asks you and you nod.

“Life is a road that I wanna keep going, love is a river that I wanna keep flowing. Life is a road now and forever, wonderful journey. I’ll be there when the world stops turning. I’ll be there when the storm is through. In the end I wanna be standing, at the beginning with you.” You both sang and you look at her with a wide bright smile.

“Knew there was somebody, somewhere. A new love in the dark. Now I know my dream will live on, I’ve been waiting so long, nothing’s gonna tear us apart! And life is a road that I wanna keep going, love is a river I wanna keep flowing, life is a road, now and forever, wonderful journey. I’ll be there when the world stops turning, I’ll be there when the storm is through. In the end I wanna be standing at the beginning…” Melissa sings and does one last strum on the guitar. “With you.” She ends and a tear slides down your cheek and you have a huge smile on your face. Melissa quickly puts the guitar down safely and turns to look at you. “Remember how we met here? You got introduced as my new aide 5 years ago.” She says and you nod your head. “I had no idea that would be the most important meeting of my life.” She continues and then she reaches in her pocket to pull something out and then gets down on one knee. You gasp and put a hand over your mouth. “Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?” She asks you and you launch yourself at her and hug her.

“YES! OF COURSE I WILL!” You shout and she hugs you back with a huge smile on her face. “Wait…” you say as you pull back. “I thought you didn’t want to get married. You wanted more of a common law relationship.” You ask her.

“I thought I did too, but lately I’ve been thinking of marrying you.” She simply says and she puts the ring on your finger. You look at it with a smile and then you look at her and kiss her. You both then hear clapping and cheering and you both look and see Janine, Jacob, Gregory, Barb, Ava and Mr Johnson there.

“I told you she’d say yes dear.” Barb says.

“Well how can I say no when my fiancée serenades me with a song?” You say and put an arm around her neck and look at her with a smile.

“I can’t wait to make you a Schemmenti.” Melissa tells you and kisses you.

“Oh, get a room!” Ava yells, then flips her hair and leaves.

You then hear Janine and Jacob squeal. “I can’t wait! Can we help plan the wedding!” Jacob asks you both.

“Only help, but we make all the final decisions.” Melissa tells them sternly and they both nod.

You then look at Melissa again and lean your forehead on hers. “At the beginning, with you.” You sing softly and Melissa can’t remember the last time she’s been this happy.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

@imaginesmultifandoms

@idonothingalldays-blog

@sexysapphicshopowner

@dvrkhcld

@lilfartbox1

@ricejucie

@unicorniusfallapatorius

@a-queen-and-her-throne

@sleep-deprived-athlete

@og-kxsh-420

@sasheemo

@midnight-lestrange

Let me know if you want to be added!

[it-happened-one-fic]

Come My Way - Silver

Author Notes: So, this was certainly a thing. I started writing this after the Diasomnia chapter while listening to AmaLee's cover of "Come this Way" from the Inuyasha anime and it kind of spiraled from there. I decided I'd play with the entire red string of fate thing despite it being rather heavy-handed in terms of romance since Prefect and Silver have some interesting ties within the storyline which I have considered writing an analysis of for my analysis blog. (plus I do find the red string of fate to be quite romantic at times and it was a nice tie in for all the other Inuyasha stuff) I came back and edited this fic to the original version of the song "Come" that is seventh ending theme of Inuyasha. All in all, the fic ended up long, but I still found it intriguing enough to post since I didn't have a fic in particular planned for this week. As per usual, reader is gender neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender neutral reader /sfw /fluff /some drama /romance /spoilers for Diasomnia chapter

Word count: 2584

Fated love was something that seemed to only occur in fairytales. An amusing thought for someone from the country of the fae to have. But to Silver, the idea of meeting someone he was fated to be with despite the many obstacles life could hold was beautiful, but also rather improbable.

Especially when he considered his narcolepsy.

It was almost like a fond dream, perfect and wonderful, until he awoke and the dream was shattered.

And yet, when he first saw you, Silver felt a glimmer of something akin to recognition. 

But he knew, for a fact, that he had never met you. There was no way he could have since you were from an entirely other world that was supposedly devoid of magic.

So Silver had initially shrugged that strange sensation of familiarity off. Deciding that you probably just had one of those faces that looked incredibly similar to someone else’s. 

But he’d still wanted to get to know you. Out of curiosity, if nothing else.

The mere idea of even meeting you soon seemed to be perfectly impossible, though. Because it was like the world itself was endeavoring to keep the two of you apart. 

And maybe it was. You weren’t from this world, and, if Silver thought logically about it, perhaps it was best if he didn’t talk to you. 

Maybe he didn’t need to let whatever this pull was that seemed to draw him inevitably towards you have its way. After all, if he were already so intrigued by you without talking to you, then he didn’t see how it could get any better once he did get to know you.

And then, if you did as you no doubt wished and went home, he would be left alone.

Alone and empty, he feared, if the sensation that he was close to meeting someone beyond important to him that swelled within him every time he saw you was anything to go by.

Initially, he’d kept his thoughts to himself. Better that way, since he didn’t want to bother anyone else with the strange, foreign feelings. But when he started seeing you in his dreams, always distant but ever present and seemingly unreachable. That was when it had gone on long enough.

Lilia had smiled at him amusedly when he’d explained the strange sensation that he knew you despite having never met you and the urges he felt to speak to you. To get to know you.

It was as if the ancient fae had already known, and he even nodded like he was completely unsurprised as he’d spoken. His tone oddly pleased, “I had wondered if this would happen. They do remind me of you, after all.”

Silver had felt his eyes widen at his father’s words before he shook his head in confusion, “How are they like me?”

Lilia had laughed aloud at his son’s words, rubbing Silver’s head like he was still a small child as his eyes gleamed with amused fondness, “Why, you’re both diligent, reserved, good children. Humans who don’t judge others by their race and who are capable of forgiving even the greatest of evils. You both serve as a sort of light within the darkness to the hearts of those you touch.”

Silver had felt himself smile, shaking his head at his father’s words but knowing better than to deny what he’d said. Lilia had always doted on his son, and even if Silver didn’t agree with the image he painted, Lilia wouldn’t accept his refusal.

Lilia had sat down next to Silver on the bed, his eyes narrowing with amusement, “Let me tell you a story from another land far, far away.”

Silver had focused on his father’s words, frowning slightly in determination to remain focused without falling asleep.

“In the same land that holds the great Loong dragons, there is a story of a red string.” Lilia had spoken in a soft voice, the one that always lulled Silver to sleep but also held the greatest of secrets.

“No one knows what spinning wheel weaves this string; perhaps it is the wheel of life itself. But legend has it that this thin strand of red ties you to your fated one.”

Silver had nodded, not surprised by the contents of the legend. It was much like other stories that revolved around fate, but he tilted his head nonetheless, “A single string seems an odd choice for a tie that binds.”

Lilia had nodded, giggling slightly before he continued, “It is, isn’t it? But that fragility hides incredible strength. Just like how love can seem fragile, but can weather even the greatest of storms, this single thread of red string is strong. No matter the distance, time, or circumstance, it will remain strong.”

He’d blinked, his pink eyes gleaming in the darkness like some sort of omen. A subtle reminder that there was more to Silver’s father than met the eye as he finished, his voice dropping and having caused Silver to still ever-so-slightly, “Perhaps it could even stretch across worlds, should fate will it.”

With only those words, it became beyond clear what Lilia had met when he’d started his tale and how it connected to Silver’s trouble with you. Silver had shook his head slightly, smiling softly, as he’d realized what Lilia was doing. It hadn’t the first time his father had teased him about romance.

“Father, I don’t think a thread of legend is what is causing me to be fascinated by Y/n,” At Silver’s words, Lilia had nodded. Smiling to himself, like he knew a secret that no one else knew anything about.

Lilia’s hands had found Silver’s, and the ancient fae had looked down at his son’s hands, calloused from the use of the sword, as his own rough thumb had slipped over his son’s pinkie finger, the smile on his face spreading, “Perhaps not… Perhaps not.”

The days wore on, and Silver had thought very little of the discussion he’d had with his father, even as you remained an ever-present thought in his mind.

And then he’d finally interacted with you. 

It had seemed more like an accident than anything. A small blip in the plans of the world as time itself had seemed to slow around the two of you, and you blinked at him in quiet surprise before you smiled.

It had been a very brief interaction, with you almost bumping into him in a doorway as he’d started to enter a classroom. You’d backtracked quickly, laughing slightly as you apologized and moved out of his way even as he’d assured that there was no problem and that he should have been paying better attention to where he was going.

And after that, Silver had found himself bumping into you more and more. Spending time with you between classes. Waking up to find you sitting next to him, like you were protecting him. Before long, he was even walking you back to your dorm.

“Silver, it seems you’ve befriended the Child of Man. You’ve been spending quite a bit of time with them,” Malleus’s smile had been beyond smug as he greeted Silver one day when Silver had only just gotten back from walking you to Ramshackle dorm.

Silver had blinked at the prince’s words, half-startled, before he nodded, “Yes, Y/n and I have been helping each other with classes.”

It was strange, in many ways, to use an evasive remark when Silver had known he hadn’t been doing anything wrong, but something about the way Lilia had smiled at him from around Malleus. His large eyes, narrowing with amusement as he looked at his son, that had Silver faltering.

“They are quite charming, aren’t they? It seems they have won over most of the school by now,” Malleus’s fingers had brushed across his lips as if he were trying to hide the amused grin that stretched across his face.

But his words were true. Silver seemed to have been the last one to reach where you were, and now that he’d been standing next to you, he’d noticed something.

You worried about and for those around you. A little bit too much, in fact. 

Silver suspected that was why you’d wound up in so many situations, to the point where you were something of a celebrity within the school. One that was either hated or loved depending on who you spoke to.

But you went out of your way to help those around you and did your best to keep up with your peers, even though there was no way you could truly succeed in the magic-related classes.

It was like you were running from something and using everything to distract yourself from whatever that thing was.

And perhaps that was why Silver hadn’t been surprised when he’d found you asleep on your couch, where you’d passed out before he’d shown up to study with you.

The fact you had been asleep wasn’t odd; you’d been falling asleep during the day more and had mentioned not sleeping well at night before. What had been concerning, though, were the marks of dried tears on your face that had caused Silver to frown as he’d knelt down beside you.

Because that was what he had been worried about even then. That you weren’t letting yourself rely on others and were instead pushing yourself to support everyone else and avoiding your own problems.

For someone who’d been magically transported to a world that wasn’t your own, you seldom mentioned your home and took a surprising amount in stride.

He’d remembered how you’d looked when Leona had overblotted. Grimly determined and afraid. But Silver had suspected that fear had been less in regard to your own potential injury and more for Leona himself.

He hadn’t said anything, though. Silver knew when someone didn’t want to talk about something. But he also knew that if you ever needed him, he would be here. Right by your side and waiting.

You hadn’t come to him with your troubles, though. Instead, you’d bore them in silence all the way up until shortly before Silver’s entire world changed.

That day, you’d been different.

“Y/n, what is it?” You jolted from your fidgeting motions, as if Silver’s soft voice had startled you, and you’d looked at him with wide, almost fearful eyes that had caused him to frown.

You’d relaxed, though, something that he’d wondered about even then. Was it a natural reaction or forced?

“I… I just feel like something’s going to happen,” Silver had tilted his head at your words, so unlike how usually laid-back you were.

“How so?” You’d met his gaze as he spoke and kept his voice soft and carefully controlled as he’d leaned forward and towards you.

“Do you believe that dreams can sometimes predict things?” Silver had felt his eyebrows raise at your words, and at first he’d honestly thought you were teasing him. But a single glance at your expression, worry-filled as it was, had told him everything.

“Fa- Lilia has spoken of prophetic dreams and people who can see things before; why?” You’d nodded at his words, looking away as if you were deep in thought.

And after a brief moment, you’d looked back toward him. A forced smile sweeping across your face that was nowhere near as natural as the one you usually wore. 

Your hand had found his, surprising him slightly as a tingle had seemed to shoot through him at your mere touch as you’d spoken, your smile softening as you’d seemed to reassure yourself, “I just hope everything stays like this.”

Your words had lingered in his mind, playing on repeat like an omen, until the day had come when Lilia told him he was leaving.

That was when everything had shattered, and suddenly, somewhere in the back of his mind, Silver had wondered: Was this what you’d been worried about?

He hadn’t gotten a chance to ask or even see you until after everything had happened.

Lilia’s farewell party had come; Silver had confessed everything about his feelings and frustrations to Malleus, and then Malleus had overblotted.

Silver knew he was lucky, though. Lucky that, in some small way, you’d warned him. And lucky that the very moment he’d fallen asleep, he’d known something was amiss.

It had been subtle, but in the midst of the slightly off, too-perfect world that was his dream, he’d felt it. A gentle tugging at his pinkie finger, like a thread was wrapped around it, was being pulled.

The sensation sent a jolt through him, and Silver turned, his eyes widening as he caught sight of a bird trailing a strange rainbow light. And then he knew what was wrong with everything that surrounded him.

Where were you? 

If this were a perfect world, you’d be here. And the fact you were missing was why he’d felt so empty. Because you were nowhere to be seen. Almost like you’d never existed.

Light seemed to flash around him, like stars guiding him forth as he ran forward, chasing that rainbow bird and following that invisible thread that seemed to pull him onwards.

It was a sensation he recognized and was familiar with. He knew who lay at the end of this path, even if he didn’t fully understand what was going on.

Somehow, someway. You were calling him, even if you didn’t know it.

Silver had vowed very few things in his life. To defend Malleus, to care for his father, and to protect those dear to him. And finally there was the silent, unspoken oath that now pushed him forward from behind, as the promise of your presence pulled him onwards. The oath he’d made with himself to stay by your side.

It was a selfish oath that he’d made without entirely realizing it until now.

Instinctively, he closed his eyes as he burst forth through the edges of his dream and into the corridor of dreams that would lead him to you. And he saw something he’d never seen before. 

Something he now suspected his father had seen a long time ago, all those days ago when he’d first told him about that legend about fate and threads.

It was a thin red strand, so fragile-looking, but pulled taut as it connected him to something further down the invisible path before him. And he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, where that thread would lead him.

So he ran. Shouting your name even as he burst forth into a new dream. One filled with inky shadows as it crumbled to pieces around you.

“Y/N!!” At his shout, you looked up. Your eyes wide from where you stood in the center of the collapsing dream, clutching Grim to you.

“S-Silver!” You faltered, having to stop yourself from stepping towards him as you slowly ran out of space to stand in as Grim yowled something that came out garbled in his distress as Silver reached out to you.

“Hold on to me! Both of you,” There was no hesitation in your motions as you grabbed onto his hand, and he wrapped an arm around you as he pulled both you and Grim up against him. 

The words of his spell held new meaning as he spoke them with you at his side, “To the person I met someday, to the person I will meet one day….” He glanced down at you, now knowing that you were that fated person.

“Meet in a dream.”

[arkhammaid]

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ FASCINATION.

fandom. tears of themis

pairing. vyn richter x gn!reader

content warnings. suggestive, making out, vyn is down bad, heavily inspired by the 3rd anniversary cards, not edited/proofread

word count. 0.9k

notes. so. 3rd anni cards. i still haven't recovered. and as a piano player, vyn's card really did smth to me.

Ever since you saw the grand piano in Vyn’s house, you’ve been fascinated by it. The sleek edges, painted white and always shining— it was a beautiful instrument and truly suited your lover. Despite being built for concerts, the expected sound being loud and rich, every time Vyn played on it, it brought forth the gentlest melodies. 

Maybe it was because of him, fingertips barely touching the keys, hands gliding over the instrument while he gently swayed to the music he played. Half lidded eyes following the notations, filling the empty silence in the house with wonderful tunes. It must be, you tell yourself, the absolute mastery he held over his instrument was astonishing. 

Hours could pass by and you would be never bored, listening and watching Vyn play, completely immersed in his own world. Too rarely it happens, where he would sit down and play in front of you. You yearn for it, to see him like this— content, happy, peaceful. 

So of course you were fascinated by the instrument, the white grand piano in Vyn’s house. An important part in his life and with that, in yours as well. Sometimes you would press some keys as well, your own melodies much simpler than his, but every time you sit down, you feel even more connected to him than usual. And every time you sit down, you’re once again reminded of your thoughts about this instrument.

This is why you don’t hear Vyn entering the room and watching you with a small smile on his lips. You’re completely lost in your own thoughts, gently easing some accords from the piano and stringing them together in a song. 

You almost scream, when he’s suddenly besides you and compliments your skill. With a racing heart you gaze up to him, arms crossed and leaning against the piano. And that knowing smile, having you caught in your ‘act’. He knows of your fascination and he always loves to remind you about it. 

He’s close to teasing you, confident he can make you flush in embarrassment. And he’s right, the piercing gaze of his turning your cheeks red and making your fingers tremble. Vyn notices, of course he does and lowers his head. 

“If you ease not only your fingers but your entire hand, you won’t cramp up so easily,” he murmurs right next to your ear, making you shudder. You know exactly what he wants, and if it were any other day, you would’ve followed his lead easily. Instead you lift your hands from the piano keys and catch his, pulling them downwards and pressing his body even closer towards yours. 

With a coy smile on your lips you turn your head, catch his eyes and slowly ease your fingers across his. “Show me,” you murmur back and lean closer towards his face, so close that you can almost feel his lips on yours. His breath hitches and you can’t help but smirk triumphantly. He hadn’t expected this, you being so bold tonight. 

Placing your lips onto his, latching on them, gasping when he presses closer— he’s at your mercy, something that happens too rarely. You release his hands from your grip, while wiggling on the seat to turn towards him, but it’s still uncomfortable to kiss him with your neck craned. You would’ve stopped, had he not gasped against your lips oh so wonderfully, responding oh so eagerly. 

You endure and almost forget how you’re in an uncomfortable position, lips flush and hands pulling hair and then clothes, tugging at seams— anything to touch the skin beneath. And there is nothing more beautiful than the wrecked man you’re kissing right now, flushing beneath your attention while you devour him. He shudders when his shirt finally falls open, your hands eagerly exploring the exposed skin. And the noises— god, the noises he makes are heavenly and sinful at the same time. 

The sudden sound of wrinkled paper pulls you from your daze, pulling you away from his lips to catch your breath. You glance at the mess he made, throwing the notations that have previously rested on the stand across the piano and floor when he rested a hand on it. 

“What you do to me,” he pants, still out of breath and oh— Vyn has never looked so delicious, so eager, so greedy for more. It makes your mind spin, seeing him so flushed, so affected by you and you can’t help but want for more. 

Mind made up, you rise from your seat and push him against the piano, watching Vyn tense when the instrument fills the room with random notes. It almost hurts in your ears, the noise still ringing but everything fades when you catch his pleading eyes. He wants more and who are you to deny him?

“Let me hear you, Vyn,” you say while towering over him, chest heaving at the sight before you. “Let me hear every noise you make,” you murmur, lips latching on his skin and leaving marks behind. And the sounds that leave his mouth, the gasps, the moans, the whines— they’re the most beautiful thing you’ve heard in a while. 

taglist. @keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel , @aimixx , @auraxins , @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @lupicalbestwolf , @gnosticneko , @peace-for-levi

DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE TAGLIST? please send a non-anon ask to be added to the taglist. taglist can be general taglist (all fandoms and all works), fandom taglist (all works within the fandom), series (all works for specific series) or nsfw taglist (all nsfw works and all fandoms).

ARKHAM MAID 2023

[chaifootsteps]

so chai I'm definitely not gonna watch that new ep sinsmas but can you summarise what happens in that ep? also pls only show octavia clips so I could cheer her on

1. Stolas mopes and whines and tries to call Via, but Stella won't let Via pick up. All the while, Blitzo is the most loving, supportive boyfriend known to man, giving Stolas a job and cheerleading even as Stolas imposes on him and cries about how he isn't rich anymore. Eventually, Blitz gives his freeloading ass a job manning the phones.

2. Strawman homophobic bitch wife hires I.M.P. to kill her husband who left her for another guy but when they get there they don't go through with it because the gay guys are sweet and warmly lit and happy with their kids, and Blitz pictures himself and Stolas and Via and Loona because only women deserve to die for cheating.

3. Via sings a song about how Stolas abandoned her even though he's been trying to call all month I guess.

4. Stolas has a meltdown and trashes I.M.P's office, says he was an idiot to trade his life for all this, runs off to see Via.

5. Andre meets him at the palace, taunts him, Stolas beats the shit out of him and Andre retaliates and almost kills him until I.M.P. shows up.

6. "Get your hands off my bottom, bitch!"

7. Big anime fight sequence ensues, Andre makes the hydra from Hercules a dragon out of ice, Loona attacks using her feral wolf form that's never, ever been alluded to and I'm assuming only exists to curry favor with the fortune cookie crowd.

8. "The prince's knight needs his sword!" I'm tired, boss.

9. Millie's irritable and throwing up, gee, I wonder why.

10. Blitz saves Stolas, they kiss, never mind all the sexual coercion and abuse.

11. Via swoops in, shoos Saturday morning cartoon villain Andre away, then goes no contact with Stolas like we saw in the leaks.

12. Scene ends on Stolas crying his eyes out in the snow. Great emotional cliffhanger to end the season on, right?

13. NOPE! Christmas party at Blitz's apartment!

14. Millie's pregnant.

15. Stolas goes out to the balcony to smoke, Blitz creeps after him like the kicked dog he's become and shyly asks to bum a cigarette, Stolas is a bitch some more. "When have you ever asked?"

16. Stolas says that they're even stevens because Blitz saved him from the dragon, acknowledges that all of this was his choice at least, Blitz talks about Barbie Wire the Tool who was edited out from her mother's death scene and how much he misses her.

17. They have a romantic dance on the balcony, stop talking about the book deal or all the times Stolas made Blitz feel like shit, says Viv somewhere in the world as she stamps her foot.

18. Blitz hugs Stolas, Stolas looks apathetic about it. End of season.

[fleetingcalypso]

I saw you write for Henry Winter, and since seldom someone here does actually write about him I'd love to send you an idea, if you're comfortable with it of course<3

Since I'm on my period and my cramps are so painful I physically cannot stand them, I was wondering about how Henry would react if his s/o was sick and forced to stay in their bed because of their cramps. Maybe he'd take care of them because he understands how it feels to be in so much pain you're incapacitated?

≋ I hope your pain can soon be alleviated, my friend, I'l pray for you to be in good health. For the meantime, I reccomend sweet treats, warm beverages and if needed do not be afraid to benefit from modern day medicine.

≋ Henry Winter x AFAB!Reader ≋

≋ Word Count: 535 words.

≋ CW: Reader is AFAB and suffers from period pains, but it can be read as GN!Reader for there are no feminine pronouns included.

Each month that goes by, without fail, I am reminded of the curse that an apparently caring and forgiving God cast upon Eve. A cycle of agony is what welcomes me every twenty-eight days: bones aching, muscles sore and head throbbing.  Even my divine savior cannot lift this burden off my shoulder, all he can do is sit by my side in his bed as my body writhes and suffers. “You could have told me,” He scolds me, “I wouldn’t have asked you to come.” And now he twists the knife. Doesn’t he realize? If I have to suffer I want it to be with him stroking my lower back, I want it to be with him pushing my face in the crook of his neck, I want it with him handling me as though I am a first edition book in his collection. 

“Do you need anything?” What kindness there is, hidden behind his cold tone. I can feel it as it envelops me and does what little it can to make the pain in my lower stomach fade. “I can make you tea, if you’d like.”

My head shakes in a silent denial. I wish I could tell him, it kills me that all I can do is burrow myself in his bedsheets, breathe in his cologne and hope this damnation comes soon to an end. 

He scoffs. It’s not of annoyance, not towards me at the very least, I know that. I know it because his fingers push strands of my hair away from my face with a gentleness I rarely felt in my life, his thumb rests on my bottom lip and even with my eyes closed I can feel his gaze penetrating through my core and inhabiting my very soul.

The bed shifts under his weight when he lays down, my body finds its rightful spot right between his arms. My life before I met him feels like purgatory, a mindless wandering about life, meaningless until fate brought him to me. 

“Thank you.” I attempt to express my gratitude in what little voice I have, even thinking about speaking feels like a dagger cutting through my flesh. He shushes me. His lips have deemed me worthy of their protection, I feel it when he kisses my forehead.

Outside of this corner of heaven, in the real world, I can hear a dog barking and birds chirping. Henry makes a comment that barely reaches my ears, something about shutting that dog up. I’m not too sure, because before I can comprehend just how tired I am, Henry’s scent is somniferous to me: combined with the warm hand rubbing my aching invisible wounds, the intoxicating fragrance of cigarettes, whiskey, sandalwood and roses makes its way into my lungs.

There is no lullaby, no sweet song to drag me into rest. All it takes is His presence, my dearest deity. He holds me in his sacred heaven, allows me to feel safe after having held up my walls for so long I forgot what the horizon looked like. I pray to him in my sleep. And by the way his arms tighten around me, I can only assume he is welcoming my prayer.