#That's not really a word that needs to be thrown around.

[gojoest]

sometimes on sundays you like to go to that coffee shop.

the one where satoru for the first time dramatically got down on one knee, proposing to you. but not really asking for your hand in marriage — you were already married.

he wanted ovations, he wanted people to clap, and he wanted a free dessert.

it’s not like he can’t afford a sweet treat, in fact he can afford all the sweet treats in the world, but that’s just how the guy you married is. he’s constantly putting you through tricky, impromptu situations, as if to test you on purpose.

anyway, it worked — it had to, because you must have fast and at least somewhat adequate reactions when you decide to marry a man like him.

people clapped, he got the cake — he ate the cake. the owner of the coffee shop proclaimed that very table you occupied yours — it was the very first proposal in the history of the cafe, a special occasion that needed to be celebrated and remembered. so the owner said, “this table will always be reserved for you on sundays” (it was a sunday that day)

so, every now and then you like to go there. it was a cozy spot, besides all the staff knew you already. they knew your orders by heart, too.

but today there’s a new guy working on the counter, taking orders. a newbie that’s clueless. so clueless, in fact, that he has the audacity to stare at you while you’re sitting on the table, waiting for your husband to bring your drinks.

satoru turns around and looks over his shoulder — to follow the direction of the newbie’s gaze, to double check if he’s indeed really staring at you.

what a mishap — he indeed is.

“pretty, huh?”, satoru casually asks the guy.

“yeah”, the newbie’s face gets visibly hot, the blush stretches from his cheeks straight to his ears. “really pretty. maybe i’ll slide her a tissue when she comes over, with my number written on it — i’ve seen it in the movies”, he chimes, excited and visibly very smitten.

satoru laughs. “good luck with that”

the boy on the counter thanks, he thinks those are words of encouragement, but in reality those words were a dare thrown at him — he was just too painfully naive and clueless yet to understand.

“oh— do you want me to write your names on the cups?”, the boy points at the beverages in front of him.

“yea, sure— that’d be mr. gojo and mrs. gojo”

satoru takes the cups and slowly makes his way to the table.

in an obnoxiously loud voice he speaks, “here, my love — this one’s for you. careful not to burn your tongue, sweetness”, all while, of course, heavily stressing on the terms of endearment — to make a statement, in case the names on the cups and his actions weren’t clear enough to get the point across — and continuously starting at the guy on the counter with brick-red bloodlust.

yeah? i dare you. i fucking dare you.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

On Rotting Planks

Part Six of The Pirate!AU. MDNI 18+, CW: some crass language, blood, death, and remnants of the smut from the last chapter. (We finally get back to sea!) ~3.5k words

The rest of the night passes as a blur of whispers and in bursts of stars. Jason doesn't let you rest until the candles have long since burned to the wicks, leaving nothing but stumps of wax.

Your bath was seemingly good for nothing, as he covers your skin in sloppy kisses, makes your body shine with sweat, leaves your thighs, and the bed covered in a mix of his and your releases. You try to lose yourself in him, in desperation.

But it's hard to ignore what's between you when his steady, gentle hands tighten around your thighs. When he crawls up your body to settle his hips against yours.

When he tells you he knows you wanted to get caught. That a city only a day and a half ride from the nearest port could have never really hid you from him for long.

You rake your nails over his back, catching scars, in an almost desperate attempt to get him to stop talking. He doesn't, not until his voice is raw with words of devotion and love and heavy feelings you don't know how to hold in your heart.

He doesn't fuck you into the sheets. He does something you would argue worse. He makes love to you. Over and over until your brain is mush and all that exists is him and the idea that he loves you.

Only then does he kiss your eyelids and entwine your limbs together. Only then does he let you sleep.

You don't wake until sunlight bathes the room in a warm, golden glow of dawn. Your husband snores softly, arm thrown over your waist. His face is relaxed, and he looks so much like he did back when you were first married, hair falling into his eyes and lips slightly parted.

The thought drives you out of bed, almost stumbling over yourself to get dressed. You're lacing your shoes and tugging on your cloak when Jason calls your name.

Your head whips towards him, but he doesn't seem bothered to see you dressed.

He lounges lazily on the bed, eyes half open, "You should wear the pin, treasure."

You hesitate, but it's a simple request. So, you pull the silver rose out of the pocket of your cloak, and fasten it to your hair. You leave the room without another word. You're confused that he lets you do this, that he doesn't offer any sign of resistance.

At least you are until you get to the exit of the inn and an arm drapes itself over your shoulder, "Going somewhere, Sweetheart?"

You shouldn't be as excited to see Roy Harper as you are. You hadn't realized you'd missed his easy-going smile so much, that it almost distracts you from the fact that he's guiding you away from the door and to one of the tables scattered around the inn.

"Harper," You breathe out, eyes darting for the rest of the crew, "I was only– I was going to look for an apothecary." It's the truth, you weren't planning on going far. You had only wanted something to prevent any accidents that may befall from last night.

His hands settle on your shoulders as he guides you to sit down in a chair, the rest of Jason's crew smiling and continuing their conversations without missing a beat.

"No need to worry about that. Just get comfortable, I'll get you your favorite for breakfast," Roy chirps, not acknowledging your attempt to leave at all. You stare after him as he saunters off.

It's disorienting, how they're acting, including you like this is an everyday occurrence. It's like your months away from them never happened. That it's just another morning enjoying food that's not from the ship's galley.

You've hardly gotten to center yourself when the inn falls to hushed whispers. Your eyes trail to stairs as Jason swaggers down into the dining area. He grins when his eyes land on you.

It's not the sight of his fabled dark red tricorn hat that makes your breath catch. It's not even the way his long overcoat seems to sweep across the room that pulls the air from your lungs.

No, it's the sight of red and purple marks bitten into his skin that makes your eyes go wide and your face feel hot. He didn't even attempt to try to hide them. If anything, he looks smug as he settles in the seat next to yours, resting his arm on the back of your hair.

"Jason, your neck," You hiss immediately, looking between his crew and him. They seem to be pointedly ignoring the telltale signs of you mauling their captain last night.

He seems to just grin wider at your embarrassment, "My love, I'd let you leave all the marks you desired on my skin, just so that I may carry you with me."

You laugh, out of pure disbelief, "You cannot be serious."

"It's a pleasure to hear you laugh, treasure, even better to be the cause of it," he says happily and seemingly more interested in playing with the threads of your cloak.

Roy sets down a large tray of food in front of you both before you can argue further, "Eat up, we best be leaving soon if we want to make port before noon."

He's followed by a few staff members, who place more food down around the table.

Jason haphazardly tosses a pouch of coins to the staff, and pushes a tray closer to you, "Enjoy, love."

The crew dig in, and the atmosphere of the inn relaxes for the first time since Jason appeared on the stairs. You eat slowly, too wrapped up in how easy it is to fall back into a rhythm with them.

Teasing, tales, and laughter sound around the table, and Jason's relaxed grin grows with every time you crack a smile at his crew.

You're so distracted by one of Kori's stories that you don't notice how you've fallen into step with the crew as Jason guides you towards the stables. It's not until he offers his hand to help you into your horse that you stop short.

"I wanted– I was supposed to stop somewhere," You start, trying to avoid the reason why you want to stop at the apothecary.

"All the necessities you could need are on the ship, treasure," he drawls, lifting you by your waist despite your protest, "and anything you desire we can find in the next port."

He doesn't give you a chance to argue more as he pulls himself onto his horse, and before you know it, you're on the road towards port, surrounded by Jason and crew.

They don't let you get too wrapped up in your mind, and you have a feeling it's to prevent you from planning any escapes. You're not sure how you could even escape from them, if you wanted to.

Donna has just left you in a fit of giggles, recalling how Jason had reduced a well renowned naval commander to a blubbering mess with just a point of his finger, (You're almost positive it's more fiction than fact) when the smell of the sea and the sounds of the city reach you.

The clear blue of the ocean fills your vision as your traveling party crests the hill. It feels like your heart gets tugged in your chest. You hadn't realized how much you missed the water. How much it had felt like home.

"Beautiful," Jason murmurs, as if it's only for you to hear. You turn to face him, but his gaze is already set on you. He holds your eyes for a long moment, then slowly turns to face the ocean.

You exhale shakily as you follow his lead into the city. He always seems to find a way to make your head spin.

The people mulling about the city have the same hushed awe as the patrons of the inn did. Jason– The Red Hood and his crew of Outlaws are well-known, respected, and feared.

Just the sight of his signature red leaves the crowds parting, leaving a clear route to the docks.

The closer you get to his ship the more eager he seems, you catch him drumming his fingers over the pommel of his sword, and he's off his horse as soon as you get to the docks.

"My horse," You start to ask, swinging your leg to lower yourself to the ground.

"Will be well taken care of by people we trust," he promises, threading his hand with yours to pull you towards the ship.

You let him, but it feels like your world is closing in on you. Your throat tightens, and you come to the stark realization that this is it. There's no way out, nowhere to hide.

Jason leads you right to the familiar sight of his ship, and you stop short when his boot hits the plank. You rip your hand from his, and his head snaps to you.

"I can't," You choke out, hating the panic that catches your voice.

He stares at you for a moment. It only makes your heart pound harder. He reaches for you, and you instinctively squeeze your eyes shut.

You wonder vaguely if he'll haul you over his shoulder again, the same way he dragged you from Gotham to the sea.

He doesn't.

He takes your hand gently and lifts it to his mouth, pressing a slow kiss to your knuckles.

You open your eyes in time to watch him reach into your cloak pocket and remove the shiny ring you've been keeping alongside the hair pins.

You freeze when he slides it onto your finger. "Treasure," he says quietly, "there is nothing to fear from me. From my crew. From my ship. It is yours as much as it is mine."

You are scared. You just don't think he understands of what. It's the fear that it could be perfect again. That it's so easy to believe in him and the family he's found for himself. It's the fear to trust in your marriage– in him again, only for it to all be ripped from you.

You don't know how to tell him, how to make him understand. So you follow his measured steps up the plank, and before you know it, he's shouting orders to haul in the lines, to cast off the dock, and drop the sails.

You stand at the railing the entire time, grip tight around the edge of the ship.

It rotates, who stands watch at your side. But they hover so close that you're sure that they're expecting you to jump.

You have no intention of jumping, not that you don't think you could make the swim, but more that you don't think you'd get very far before someone followed you in.

You watch the port grow smaller and smaller. It feels like something is ending, but the salt, sea air that blows at your skin is almost soothing.

You're pulled out of your thoughts when Artemis presses a telescope in your hands, "We're being followed."

You blink once, then twice, "What?"

She gestures to the ship, flying the colors of the navy off the ship's stern, "They're hardly a danger. A few months ago, they wouldn't have dreamed of–," She cuts herself off, like she's trying to save you the guilt, "You'll be safer below deck."

"Or," Roy says happily, leaning onto the railing at your side, "You can stay and watch us work."

You frown, as far as you're aware, Jason's ship is the fastest on the seas, "Can't we out run them?"

"We could," Artemis agrees, "but the captain is intent on refreshing our enemies' memories."

Roy pats your arm, "He's not called a pirate lord for nothin', Sweetheart."

"That title is ridiculous," your husband mumbles, inserting himself between you and Roy so he can hook his arm around your hip.

"It's good for inspiring fear," Artemis supplies, and you have to agree. Before you know who Red Hood was, the idea of an unbeatable pirate lord did sound foreboding.

Jason hums reluctantly, watching the naval ship grow closer, "Take over the helm, Roy." He turns his focus to you, "I'll escort you to my quarters, treasure."

"I want to stay on deck," You say quickly.

He raises an eyebrow at you, "It could be bloody, my love."

"I know," You tell him, but if you're going to be a part of this, a part of his life, this is a piece you'll have to learn.

He studies you, then gestures to Roy, "Stay with him. Keep a weapon on you."

You nod quickly, and follow Roy to the helm of the ship.

Roy doesn't question you, doesn't push, just cracks lazy jokes as the navy ship gets closer, "Commodore Bullock's been after us for years. Thinks he can get his big promotion this way. I think he's lost more ships to us than the entire navy combined."

The knowledge is reassuring, even as the ship sails parallel to Jason's, even as they shout for him to surrender.

Jason offers the sailors a wicked grin, points his pistol, and shoots. Your eyes go wide when the feathers set in the commodores hat explode into bits and pieces.

You have to stifle your giggles at how red his face gets, how he gestures wildly to Jason. Your giggles fade when the sailors start to grab ropes and swing themselves to the deck of the pirate ship.

None of the crew seems half bothered, and Roy draws his sword with all the rush of someone who just woke up from a long, relaxing nap. He offers you a dagger, but you pull your own, one you keep hidden under your clothes.

He grins at you, and turns to the approaching men. It's almost embarrassing, how easily Jason and his crew disarms and takes down the sailors.

It's like dancing, how they evade slashes of swords and duck under wide swings. They laugh as they trip their opponents, shout to each other how many they've taken out, making bets and teasing without a care.

It's almost fun to watch, until you notice how the men seem to be converging on you and Roy.

You'll be the first to admit, your little training with a knife was months ago, and Ted focused more on showing you how to throw a solid punch.

Roy seems to notice this, too, and he sets himself closer to your side, trading his sword for bullets.

But you don't quite realize how much danger you're in until a sound of wood hitting the railing draws your attention. The Commodore himself walks across the creaking plank, sword drawn and smiles dark and gleeful.

"If it isn't the Captain's whore. Quite a pretty thing. I can see why he abandoned the sea for you" he says, eyes raking over your form.

Roy, for his part, does try to get between you and Bullock. It only takes a wave of the commodore's hand to send a group of men to keep him occupied.

For as sloppy as Bullock seems to be with a sword, his years of experience outweighs yours, and terror grips your throat when he knocks your knife out of your hand.

It all happened too fast. He raises his sword, swings for your chest, and all you see is red.

The dark, telltale red of Jason's coat. He stands steadfast between you and the sword, his fingers wrapped around the blade.

You don't know if you want to cry for yourself, or over the sight of blood dripping down his hand and onto the steel.

"It seems as though the seas have forgotten how I earned my name in my absence. But do not worry, commodore, I will remind you," Jason says lowly, voice flat and full of threats.

The atmosphere on the ship shifts. Any fun and lightheartedness disappears. Silence falls, and Bullock visibly pales, stuttering out nonsense and pleas for mercy. You could only imagine what he sees. How dark Jason's eyes must be.

The commodore tries to pull his sword free, but Jason doesn't budge. A few of the sailors rush to help their commander, and then your world goes dark. Fabric covers your eyes, a bandana thrown over your head, you think, and someone pulls you back.

"You shouldn't have to see this," they murmur, and a steady hand settles on your back. It's the only thing that keeps you tethered.

You might not see what happens. But you hear it. Smell it. Iron permeates in the air. Begging and screams fill space around you.

It's a massacre.

It's evident there's no fight that the sailors can put up. There's no sounds of metal on metal, only the tearing of flesh, the thumps of bodies hitting the wooden deck.

You stay still the entire time, fingers clenched into fists, and sight obscured by the fabric throwing over your head.

Eventually, the screams fade, and are replaced by the sounds of splashes in the water. They're throwing the bodies overboard, you realize.

"Sink their ship, Harper," Jason's low voice makes your head turn. You want to speak, but the words catch in your throat.

"Aye, captain," Roy answers, and the safety of the warm hand against your back leaves.

You lower your head to stare at what you can see, the familiar wood that makes the deck of the ship. And the tips of Jason's shoes, stained with drops of blood. That's not so familiar.

"Can you walk," he asks softly.

You nod, fingers twisting into the fabric of your clothes.

"I'm sorry, my love. I would carry you but," his voice trails off. You appreciate it. You think getting blood on you right now would send you spiraling.

He offers you his hand, carefully holding it out to where you can see it.

It's the hand he didn't use to catch the sword, you notice, and it's surprisingly clean of any blood. You take it, and he squeezes gently, as if he's trying to reassure you.

He carefully leads you away from the helm, off the deck, and to his quarters. He helps you sit at the edge of his bed, "I'll be right back, treasure."

You nearly laugh. You're back where it all started. You hear him rustling in the closet, and then hear a door open and close.

You tug the bandana off your head. The room is empty for the moment, and you start to fidget with the ring on your finger.

You're not alone for long, Jason returns freshly changed and not a drop of red on him.

"Are you hurt," he questions immediately, walking over to kneel at your feet.

You want to laugh again at how familiar this all is. You shake your head instead and reach for his hand, prepared to see a deep, nasty cut from when he caught the sword. You're ready to clean it, to bandage it, to apologize for being a poor fighter.

But when you lift his hand, there's only a fresh scar.

"What–" You breathe out, the shock of seeing his hand nearly completely healed, pulling you out of your dazed state.

He winces, "I wasn't– I haven't told you the whole truth. About what happened to me."

You drop his hand, hurt flashing across your features, "What?"

He starts slowly, avoiding your gaze, "I didn't know how to tell you. Back when– when I was captured, I died."

"Died," You echo, almost hollow.

He nods a little and looks up at you, "Died. The League, the people that brought me back– I don't understand it completely myself, but I– when I'm at sea, my injuries heal. No matter how major, no matter how small, wounds that should be deadly, simply turn to scars."

"What does that mean," You ask weakly.

"Nothing," he says firmly, "it means nothing. It only makes me a better captain. It only lets me protect you better."

You twist the ring in your finger faster. It makes your stomach churn. He jumped in front of you because he can't die on his ship. He threw his life around, risked everything, because there was no risk. Not for him.

You're almost relieved that he was never in any danger. But you can't shake the thought that maybe he wouldn't have done it if there were actually consequences. You know it's unfair, but the idea grows louder by the second.

"I'd like to be alone," You murmur.

His face hardens, like he can see exactly what conclusion you've come to on your face, "Treasure, whatever you're thinking–"

"Please," You don't mean to sound like you're begging, but it slips out nonetheless.

He falters, stares at you, then slowly stands, "Very well, darling. I'll send Kori to check on you."

He hesitates for a moment longer, and then he leaves.

A part of you wants to break down. A part of you wants to cry the same way you did on that wagon. But you don't.

You stare out the porthole, stare at the ring sparking on your finger. Cannons begin to fire, and you watch as the commodores ship begins to sink. And for the first time in a long time, you don't have a plan.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

I am so excited to see your requests open again!

I was wondering if we could get some “reader has to win Eddie back” after doing something stupid or something . Request by @mugloversonly

Angst and fluff ❤️ Eddie and reader fight but reader makes it up to Eddie.

❤️

You couldn't believe how badly you had messed up, cursing yourself for being so stupid.

"When are you going to grow up Eddie and stop playing these stupid make believe kids games. No wonder it took you so long to graduate"

The two of you had been in the middle of a fight; that was rare in itself as the two of you never thought and you blurted out those words and had regretted them ever since.

It wasn't as if that was really how you felt, you loved how passionate Eddie was about D&D and had said it solely just to hurt him. Now you were wracked with guilt for what you said about that and him graduating.

Graduation was a sore spot for Eddie and you were kicking yourself for rubbing it in his face.

Now the two of you weren't talking and you couldn't blame Eddie for not wanting to talk to you. Even though him not speaking to you was excruciating, you missed him and the ache in your chest wasn't going away.

At school Eddie saw you heading his way and promptly turned his back on you but not before you saw the pain in his eyes.

When you approached him to talk he would mumble some excuse and go off with Gareth leaving you with a sympathetic Jeff. "He's hurting right now so maybe it's best to give him a little time yeah?" Swallowing back tears you nod and Jeff pats you on the shoulder then follows Eddie.

Eddie who's staring at the tears in your eyes and looks like he wants to say something but decides against it and walks away, the agony in his eyes leaves you aching.

Your words had caused that look and now you needed to fix this and you knew just how to do it.

🥰

Dustin and Lucas were roped into helping you. Mike was busy with Will as both of them are helping Eddie paint figures for his new campaign.

So with the boys help you tell them your plan and they are eager to help. You're going to transform your basement into a space where Eddie can host Hellfire campaigns.

Dustin is going to lead Eddie here somehow meanwhile Lucas helps you move things around so the long table you have in the basement is in the centre of the room.

There's a chair in the corner that's distinctively thrown like that you found in a thrift store, you were planning to give it to Eddie when he found a base for his campaigns so it was perfect as his Dungeon Master throne.

Gareth had offered to draw a large poster of the Hellfire Club logo and Dustin helped pick out a few d&d figures at the store.

When the room was finished you were anxious to get Eddie here and while you waited for Dustin to persuade Eddie to come you set out a few snacks and things.

"Will you calm down" Gareth soothes, "Eddie will love this" he reassures you and you nod still nervous as hell but feeling slightly better.

"Eddie will love what?" You turn around and Eddie is standing beside Dustin and gazing at the place in awe.

Anxious but determined you gesture around the room and smile "surprise!" you exclaim and Eddie looks stunned at first but slowly, a beaming smile graces his features.

You know he's been struggling for space to host meetings and you've been wanting to help him out for a long time.

"I thought you'd like this, a space where you can play and host campaigns where you don't have to worry, I know you've been struggling to find a place so I hope this is okay?"

For a second Eddie just stares at you still shocked but then he strides forward and kisses you, he's thrumming in excitement. "Are you kidding me princess? I love this" you exhale in relief and apologise for what you said during the fight.

"I'm so sorry for what I said Eddie. I didn't mean it and just said it in the heat of the movement. I love love how passionate you are about D&D and I should have never brought up the graduation thing, that was low and I'm sorry"

He softens and nods at your apology, "I'm sorry too. I hate fighting with you. Let's promise not to do that or at least have better communication skills so it's not as bad as this time. Yeah?" he suggests and you nod eagerly, when Eddie pulls you in his arms you feel content for the first time in days.

"Yeah. Let's do that" you're just so happy that he's here and you're in his arms. The last couple of days had been so lonely and awful without Eddie by your side, like a part of you was missing.

"I missed you so much" you tell him and he pulls you closer to him, kisses your forehead and then moves to your lips.

"I missed you too princess, so much" you cuddle into him and it's only when the others ask if they can set up a mini campaign that the two of you break apart.

"Milady would you join me on a quest?" he kisses the palm of your hand and you giggle nodding as he leads you to the table.

[drewsarms]

𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི : reader misses rafe while he’s out on business. had this thought stuck in my head all day!! hope you all enjoy!! જ⁀➴

➜ : icky! rafe x reader

➜: warnings: use of the word “daddy” and “dad”, use of the word “kid” and “kiddo” , slight impact play, 18+mdni!

You had been missing rafe all day. It was one of those rare occasions were he had to take care of business almost the whole day. You knew not to bother him but you couldn’t help yourself. You layed back on the holding both of your legs together. Reaching for your phone you put it right against your pussy. Making sure you got a good angle of just how wet you were. You sent a text with the picture attached. “Daddy please come homeeeee!!! I need you!!!” It wasn’t long before you saw rafe respond and before you could unlock your phone to see it he was already calling you. You giggled as you answered it sweetly. “You think this shit is funny kid? I told you I was going to be busy. You like distracting dad from his work…is that it?” You could hear the anger in his voice. Something that scared and excited you at the same time. “No daddy! I just really miss you.” He lets out a small chuckle. “Yeah baby? Thinking about daddy got you that wet? don’t touch that pretty pussy, I’ll be home real soon.”

・・・・・

The little clothing that you had on in the photo was thrown across the room. It didn’t take a genius to realize just how upset rafe was. You look up at him through wet lashes. “Daddy I didn’t mean to make you upset. I just wanted you to come home.” He glares at you and you can feel yourself sink deeper into the mattress. “Kid, stop talking. I told you what I had going on was very important. I told you not to call or text me and did you listen?” He raises one brow waiting for your answer. He smacks your leg harshly making you yelp. “N-no daddy! I didn’t listen! But I’m sorryyyy!!” He shakes his head. You hated when he got like this because it wasn’t always easy to break him. “Put those legs behind your head for me sweetie.” You whimpered. You hated being in that position because he never let up. “I’m not gonna tell you again.” Quickly you wrap your legs behind your head. “That’s my good fucking girl.” He watches you with lustful eyes. Looking at your body up and down slowly. Watching your pussy clench around nothing. Begging for his cock. “Please….please touch me daddy!!!” A smirk flashing across his face. He reaches his fingers out to run them slowly across your slit making your eyes roll back. You’d do or say anything to get on his good side. “Your fingers feel so good against my little pussy daddy!!” He gives your cunt a harsh smack, chuckling when you jump. “You gonna do that shit again? Making daddy mad and shit.” You shake your head no rapidly.

Rafe pounded into you repeatedly. You tapped against his stomach begging for him to slow down or give you a break but he just ignored you. He grabbed your hair and made you look at his cock going in and out of you. “I don’t think this sweet little pussy wants me to stop. Fuckkkk you hear that sweetie.” The noises your pussy made around his cock sounded so embarrassing but it only made him fuck you harder. He places a harsh slap against your cheek. “Don’t piss daddy off again. You understand?” You look up at him with doe, teary eyes whimpering out a small “yes daddy”.

Taglist: @shawtycoreee @nemesyaaa @fae-of-prey @rafecameroninterlude @bunnyrafe @venic-bxtch @starkeysprincess @drewstarkeys-world

[cameatslemons]

mouthwashing post. jimmy is a raging narcissist and im tired of people trying to give him benefit of the doubt. his inability to see two feet beyond what immediately concerns him dooms everyone on the tulpar, and even in the end, he only really cares about himself.

big list of all his narcisstic bullshit below bc im here to motherfucking prove it (mouthwashing spoilers of course)

most obviously: everything is a personal attack on him. EVERYTHING. you can see it most clearly at the birthday party; while everyone else is understandably freaking out about being laid off, jimmy starts telling curly off and insulting both him and everyone else at the table, as if being laid off is a personal attack on jimmy specifically. it doesn’t matter that anya has nothing to go back to, that swansea’s life is thrown away- jimmy is the ONLY victim here, apparently. curly is personally responsible for getting laid off, in his eyes.

i don’t actually know the words for this but the way he’s constantly going “i have to do EVERYTHING around here”- again, feeling like its a personal attack to be asked anything at all. anya asks him to take care of curly because her entire fucking life is falling apart, its her end of days, but somehow shes the villain for struggling.

also the general antagonization of anya. she’s extremely competent for the hand she was dealt! shes too poor to attend med school yet shes very knoqledgable in medication and wound care! and yeah no shit shes struggling now, someone she cared deeply about is suffering immensely and now the ship is being “run” by a man who assaulted her. no fucking shit shes breaking down. but jimmy makes it clear time and time again that this is somehow her fault, all this shit of “shouldn’t nurses EARN their titles?” while she’s having a mental breakdown.

similarly, swansea being villainized for holding the cryopod for daisuke and killing him. like, i get it, but jimmy’s whole thing of saying he can fix daisuke is… c’mon man. he’s a hero to himself, he “always” fixes things the same way he “fixed” the ship, and he will fix daisuke and claim heroism even though it’s very clear nothing else can be done for him.

“someday you’ll thank me” while forcing curly to eat his own leg. the incredible confidence that he is in the right even when literally torturing someone.

MOST IMPORTANTLY: the final scene with curly burning. jimmy doesn’t earnestly believe he has anything to be sorry for. even when apologizing to curly he says “we can BOTH be heroes!” despite everything, he still thinks he’s in the right. he STILL thinks he’s a hero, because he’s right, he’s ALWAYS right, surely. he can apologize and grovel all he wants but in the end he still thinks he’s the hero of this story; he doesn’t genuinely think he has anything to right, he’s only doing this to be freed of consequence. and/or believes a simple “sorry” is enough, that it can fix completely ruining the lives of four people with his own inferiority complex.

i do think the choice to put curly in the pod instead of himself is the only time he recognizes his own guilt, if any. maybe it’s realizing that he DOES need something more than a simple “sorry” to even begin to try to fix things, maybe it’s that he thinks this will cement him even further as a hero. even then, does this fix anything? all it’s doing is making curly suffer more. is this actually a good thing?

to him, he’s the hero here. he always is. crashing the ship is a heroic thing, putting all his crewmates through hell is a heroic thing. all because something nobody can control is somehow a personal attack on jimmy.

not to mention all the “hallucinations” he has- it’s what he thinks should happen, it’s what he wants to hear. curly still calling him a friend, the dead corpses of his crewmates praising him, even in the final cutscene with curly burning where he says “no, YOU take the pod”. none of it’s real. it’s just what jimmy thinks is “right”. despite everything, he thinks everyone should thank and praise him, because he can do no wrong.

conclusion: jimmy is a narcisstic piece of shit.

[blackenedsnow]

HELL0 HELOOO

I WATCHED A NEW K DRAMA MOVIE AND I DONT KNOW WHY BUT SHADOW EXACTLY FITS THIS REQUEST. (K-drama name:midnight)

Shadow and reader lived together, but the reader was deaf and could only speak sign language, although she could speak the language, she could not speak. Anyway, while the reader was walking on the street by herself, she saw a wounded girl and went there. The girl was screaming for help, reader could not hear her but she knew how to read mouth, she bend down and tried to help the wounded girl, when the girl pointed behind her she slowly gulped and looked behind her the serial killer was waiting behind her, Unable to scream or call for help, while the killer was about to attack both of them, the reader managed to bend down and run without looking back, also the girl started running without looking back. But the killer sh0t her she dropped dead, while the reader continued running calling shadow but she couldnt her phone was dead she looked behind and the killer was running so fastly she continued to run to her home which took a while,

They had arrived at the popular spot in the city,the killer was running after her, but the reader tried to hack it, but the killer made up a lie and tried to take her away. She finally run away but she found the killer trying to trick a woman nd she had no choice but ran towards the lady tried to stop her she had a knife in her hand, she stabbed the killer..no...wha?..she stabbed herself but she made the killer hold the knife. Everyone gathered early and the police arrived,even shadow. (Nice plot twist right? I mean if you watched it)

__What would he do? Seeing his crush getting st1bbed..

I'M SO EXCITED FOR THIS 🤭

silent shadow

WARNING: Violence, near-death experiences, major character injury, emotional distress.

PAIRING: Shadow The Hedgehog x (Fem) Deaf! Reader

NOTE: This one was really fun and intense to write! Enjoy! 🤭I really hope I got this right.. I probably didn't but oh well

SUMMARY: Living with Shadow, you’ve grown accustomed to his quiet but protective nature. Being deaf hasn’t stopped you from communicating, though you rely on sign language. One night, when you come across a wounded girl on the street, you’re thrown into a dangerous game of survival against a relentless serial killer. Your only hope is reaching Shadow before it’s too late.

The cool night breeze brushed against your skin as you made your way down the dimly lit street. You liked the quiet. It was peaceful, and it gave you a break from the world that never stopped moving. Your phone was tucked away in your pocket, and you absently glanced around, taking in the familiar sights of the neighborhood. Shadow was home, probably brooding as usual, but you needed to stretch your legs after a long day.

It wasn’t long before you noticed someone up ahead—a girl, frantic and stumbling, covered in blood. Your heart leapt into your throat. She was screaming something, but you couldn’t hear the sounds. Still, you knew how to read lips, and her terrified expression told you everything you needed to know.

“Help me. Please help.”

You hurried toward her, kneeling beside her as she collapsed to the ground. The girl was shaking, pointing behind you, her mouth forming the words, “He’s here. He’s coming.”

Your stomach dropped. Slowly, you turned, and there he was—a tall figure looming in the shadows, watching you with a twisted smile that sent chills down your spine. The serial killer.

He stood there, casually waiting, like he was enjoying the fear washing over you. Your mind raced. You couldn’t scream for help; no one would hear you. And your phone was dead.

The girl beside you was trembling, her breath shallow. You had to act fast. Without thinking, you bolted, grabbing the girl’s hand and yanking her up. You ran without looking back, your feet pounding the pavement, but she didn’t make it far. A sharp crack echoed behind you, and you glanced back just in time to see her drop lifelessly to the ground, a bullet wound in her back.

The world seemed to slow down. She was dead. But you couldn’t stop. The killer was still chasing you, his footsteps growing louder and faster as he closed the distance between you.

Shadow.

You reached for your phone again, desperately hoping for some battery life, but it was still dead. Panic surged through your veins as you pushed yourself harder, weaving through the empty streets. You needed to get home. Shadow was the only one who could help you now.

The chase seemed to stretch on forever. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your legs burning with exhaustion, but you couldn’t stop. Not with him so close behind.

You stumbled into the city center, a busy square that was always full of people, even at this late hour. You thought you were safe. You thought you could blend in, disappear among the crowd. But the killer was smart—too smart. He approached calmly, weaving a different story to the bystanders, trying to play the part of a concerned citizen.

“She’s dangerous,” he lied smoothly to a nearby woman. “She’s the one who attacked that girl back there. You need to stay away from her.”

You managed to slip away, your heart pounding in your chest. As you ran, your eyes fell on a woman up ahead—the killer had reached her first. He was trying to trick the woman, feeding her lies just as he had before. The woman looked confused, vulnerable. There wasn’t much time.

With no other choice, you sprinted toward the lady, your breath ragged. You had to stop him. You had to end this.

Your hand gripped the knife you'd found on the ground earlier. Without thinking, you plunged it forward—but something went wrong. The killer was quick, and in one swift move, he twisted your action. The knife wasn’t in him—it was in you.

You had stabbed yourself.

But you made sure to grab his hand and wrap it around the knife, making it look like he had done it. Pain radiated through your body as you collapsed to the ground, blood spilling from the wound.

A crowd gathered around you as you collapsed, blood spilling from your wound. The killer stood frozen, the knife still in his hand. It looked like he had stabbed you, not the other way around.

Police sirens wailed in the distance, and everything became a blur. You could feel yourself slipping, the world spinning as the pain dragged you under. But even as darkness crept in, you hoped—prayed—that Shadow would come soon.

When Shadow finally arrived, the first thing he saw was you lying on the ground, surrounded by a sea of horrified onlookers. Your blood stained the pavement, and the killer was being dragged away in handcuffs. The officers were barking orders, but none of that mattered to him.

All he saw was you.

He sprinted over, dropping to his knees beside you, his usual cold demeanor shattered by panic. His hands hovered over your body, unsure of what to do, his heart hammering in his chest.

"Why did this happen…" His voice was low, filled with a fury that he was holding back, trembling with rage and fear.

Your eyes fluttered open, barely, and you could see the anguish on his face. His crimson eyes, usually filled with resolve, were wide with desperation.

Shadow… You signed weakly, your hands trembling. I’m… sorry.

“Don’t you dare apologize,” he growled, grabbing your hand, holding it tight as if he could somehow keep you from slipping away. “You… you’re going to be fine. I’ll fix this. I always fix things.”

You could feel the warmth leaving your body, but even through the haze of pain, there was something comforting in the way Shadow refused to let go of you. His grip was firm, strong—like he was anchoring you to life.

His breath hitched as he glanced down at the blood pooling around you. He didn’t know what to do. He could face any enemy, tear through any obstacle, but this—watching you suffer, helpless and bleeding—this was something he couldn’t fight.

“Stay with me,” he whispered, his voice breaking in a way you’d never heard before. “You can’t leave. Not like this.”

The paramedics arrived, but they had to pry Shadow away from you, forcing him to stand back as they worked to stabilize you. His hands were clenched into fists, his body rigid with barely controlled anger. He felt helpless, something he hated. He wanted to lash out, destroy the killer who had done this to you, but you needed him more.

When they finally loaded you into the ambulance, Shadow followed, refusing to leave your side. His eyes never left your face, watching for any sign that you were still with him.

As the ambulance sped through the city, sirens blaring, Shadow reached for your hand again. His usual bravado was gone, replaced with a quiet intensity. He wasn’t going to let you go. Not now. Not ever.

“I’m here,” he whispered, his voice low but filled with determination. “You’re going to be okay. You hear me? You’re going to be okay.”

Hours passed in a blur, but eventually, you woke up in the hospital. The sterile lights overhead made you squint, your body aching all over. But you were alive.

And there, sitting beside you, his hand still holding yours, was Shadow.

He looked up as you stirred, his eyes locking onto yours with a mix of relief and something else—something softer, deeper.

I’m okay, you signed, offering a weak smile.

Shadow let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He squeezed your hand, leaning closer.

“You scared the hell out of me,” he muttered.

You gave a small smile, though it hurt.

But as Shadow leaned in, pressing his forehead gently against yours, you knew—no matter what happened, no matter how dangerous things got—he would always be there.

Always watching. Always protecting you.

[loserlvrss]

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ( 지창민 )

pairing : ji changmin x fem!reader   genre : oneshot, angst, alluded f2l, happy ending  warnings : language, alcohol / intoxication, slight emetophobia word count : 1.5k authors note : big lack of changmin truthers on this app btw :/ deobi get on this (im deobi)

“oh,” the silence after was thick, and unforgiving. it felt like your heart had just been ripped from your chest and squeezed so tight—tight enough to kill you where you stand. “i don’t know what to sa—i don’t feel that way, y/n. i’m sorry.” 

you knew somewhere not-so deep down that that would be his answer, but you thought, what the hell? you were on the doorstep of leaving the city, the verge of going off to a college far, far away anyways. except, yeah, what the hell… were you actually thinking? because in reality, did it potentially mess up your friendship with the only man you’ve ever been able to stand for more than a couple of minutes? maybe, but you couldn't let fear be the knife that hung over your head.

you were leaving; you had already left a couple months back, now in a new city. did it really matter anymore? changmin was halfway across the country, and you’d probably never see him again. so, it shouldn’t be the wind getting knocked out of you, or the constant rock in your shoe anymore, should it?

the music boomed against your ears, shaking your ribcage with every drop of the bass and snare. you cautiously looked around, (presumable) students chugging back beers and shots of clear liquids—or swapping spit—all while simultaneously moving to the track. you heard a loud cheer invade your ears, catching the tail end of a sunken ping pong ball. 

it felt like whiplash. 

“jen, what the hell is this?” 

your best friend turned to you, locking her arm in the crook of your elbow. “a frat, y/n! people our age go to those!” 

“how did you eve—“

“the guy throwing it,” she began, a huge smile spreading across her face as people brushed past with a lack of self awareness, “eric. he’s in my business class. and super hot!” she nudged your arm, “perfect, right?” 

you nodded hesitantly, mentally stuttering, “y-yeah… perfect.” 

she went on, disregarding your feelings entirely, “perfect man, perfect night.” instead swooning the air, “perfect, perfect, perfec—“ 

“if you say it one more time, i’m gonna throw up completely sober.” 

her neatly-shaped brows furrowed, “well we should fix that, what do you want? a beer?” 

“n-no, i’m okay.”

she rolled her eyes, obviously annoyed by your answer. “are you kidding me, y/n? let it go! just for one night and then i’ll let you sulk all you want tomorrow. please?” her hands were thrown together in a prayer position, “just be happy with me for once! he’s not here, he hasn’t been here.” 

months have passed since your dreaded confession, and you were still hung up on it like a waiting line on hold. he’d told you your answer; it should've been closure. 

it is closure. 

closure to a book you probably never should have opened, but the synopsis was too enticing. he was ji changmin for fuck sake, of course you had to love him. but jen was right, he didn’t, and he never would. he wasn’t with you right now. it was the broken record that you were finally taking off the player, the hand on a clock that had been stuck in place. 

he was everything you could’ve had, but he wasn’t the only thing you’ve ever needed. 

“vodka.” 

she hissed out a quiet yes, thrusting her fist into the air and dragging you across the lawn, onto the ricketiest porch you’ve ever seen. 

tomorrow you could care again, but during the early morning—after midnight—nothing mattered. when the moon was out, she was the only one who’d get to know how you truly felt. 

later, you found yourself in the kitchen with said host of the party, a couple drinks down. jen was right, he was hot—and perfect for her. 

the room spun as slurred words hit your ears, “oh my god, do you even remember what professor song said, eric?” her fingers dragged down his forearm, “opposites attract.” 

you clutched the counter, listening to their harmless flirting, “we’re in economics, jen.” 

she laughed, pointing to herself, “a,” then him, “plus b, equals c.” she adorned her statement with a heart, to which he had no choice but to laugh. nonetheless, you thought he was into it. 

they had the most painful eye contact you think you’d ever seen, smothering each other in desire but neither acting on it. maybe it was because you were there.

if you could read anything, it’s the room, and it was your cue to leave. 

“i’m gonna go… dance.” you said.

it didn’t capture her attention like you thought it would’ve. she’d never passed on the opportunity to throw it back before. she must really want him bad, you guess.

the music moved you so effortlessly, like you were made to keep your hands above your head and your hips swaying. you were careless at the moment, mind clouded with the people surrounding you. it smelled of cigarette smoke and lust. there were various vapors wafting through the air and meeting your senses. 

you couldn’t—didn’t—care. what even was his name anymore? with the alcohol in your system, it didn’t matter if it beat in time with your heart or not. 

he wasn’t here. 

and that's all you needed to know. 

“hey, pretty,” you were too far in your head that you didn’t even notice the hand that wrapped around your waist, squeezing the exposed skin of your torso. “do you go here?” they were close enough that their lips brushed the shell of your ear. you couldn’t recognize the voice, though if you were coherent enough you don’t think you’d have enough strength to even indulge the thought. your back pressed to his chest, his head in the crook of your neck, breath heavy on your skin as you threaded your fingers through his hair. 

the music was loud enough to drown out the sirens—the red flags waving—as you danced with a stranger. a stranger you hadn’t even turned around to see. it didn’t matter, even if he was the most beautiful model, moviestar or greek statue, it’d never compare to—

“y/n?” 

ji changmin. 

oh god, were you hallucinating your inner thoughts now? 

you swore that was his voice that called out to you, like you’d wished day and night for all those months back. you must’ve finally gone off the deep-end. or maybe it was all the secondhand smoke that became first now swimming inside your veins. whatever it was, you fought with the urge to want it, or to detest it. 

he wasn’t here. he couldn’t be. 

he gave you your answer, making the final decision and throwing the cards you’d spread on the table. you’d made the mistake of wearing your heart on your sleeve and giving it away so easily but, life has never been fair. 

regardless of being between heaven and hell, you were ripped away from the tight grip of the stranger. the touch was familiar. the touch you’d wanted to get to know further. the same touch you’d wanted to claim and keep for yourself, never letting him near another again. 

ji changmin, the man who had your heart still clenched in his fist. “what are you doing?” 

and anger overtook any love you’d felt for your best friend. 

tears brimmed, “what are you doing?” 

the guilt weighed heavy on your heart… you’d missed him so goddamn much, when you really shouldn’t have. 

what a perfect fucking night. 

“who is that?”

you shook your head in disbelief, ripping your arm from his grip. “why does it matter? are you going to replace him? do you even think you have the right to stare at me like a lost fucking puppy right now? why the fuck are you even here, changmin?” 

your iced-over heart couldn’t help but melt at the sight of him. he was still as perfect as you remembered. people changed over time, you knew that, but changmin never has. he’s always been yours to know, but he never wanted you the same way. your name has always followed my friend, when all you’ve ever wanted was for it to stop after the first word; my. mine. his. 

he backed down, “i wanted to hear your voice again… i missed you.” 

there it was… the claws ripping your chest open. he still knew every way to get you crawling back. he knew your brain too well. maybe that’s why you loved him, because, in reality, you two weren’t so different. 

always two birds atop the same wire, two stars in the same sky, two words next to each other in the same sentence. you were never paralleled lines, and it took him all of four months without you to figure it out. but he told you, under a random moon, that he never knew what he was feeling until he was numb. and the saying has always gone, you never know what you have until it’s gone. 

but, you’d never really be gone. 

please reblog and like <3 comments are appreciated ! thank you 4 reading © loserlvrss 2024 all rights reserved. 

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taglist : @gluion @slytherinshua @mystarsohee @hursheys @seomisaho | send an ask to be added. 

back to masterlist !

[matrixbearer2024]

Continuation to this post since it'll be a multi-chaptered thing and I love world building, also more Stan Twins because I love them and they're funny. Next chapter will be reader's turn because YUHHHHH-

I (Learned To) Love You [Stanford Pines x Reader]

Chapter 2: Chained Freedom

The Stan twins return home and Ford overhears some devastating news, Stanley comforts him and they both hatch a game plan.

The sky was beginning to darken by the time the twins had both decided to begin the trek home. Slinging the black book bag over his shoulder, Ford watched the reds and yellows of the horizon bleed indigos and blues; the sun barely peeked over the edge of the water now. The sight never failed to amaze, the stars and moon beginning to make an appearance as well in the retreating light and advancing darkness.

It felt oddly poetic this time, like the closing of a chapter and the beginning of a new one. Stanford always did have a fondness for the vast expanse of space and it’s heavenly bodies. There was just so much to find, to learn, and his curiosity never was truly satisfied since young.

“I think I’ll miss this.”

“The sunset or the sea? Hopefully not this whole place because it’s a dump!”

Stanley got a light punch to the shoulder from his brother in amused retaliation, of course there wasn’t truly any bite in the action– he returned it with another laugh. Ford playfully rolled his eyes as he began to walk up the beach in the direction to the pawnshop.

“You know what I meant; and hey–”

Stanford looked behind at his twin who raised an eyebrow at him, it was a good thing they were always close; he could only hope it would stay that way despite the circumstances and despite the eventual distance. For a duo that shared faces, it was a bit hilarious in retrospect how jarringly different they were. 

Yet, they coexisted and thrived like no one else.

“Last one home does the dirty laundry!”

“NO WAY!”

Stanley raced after his sibling as they both booked it down the pavement, cheerful laughter from the two brothers ringing the quiet and empty paths with only the dim hue of the glowing streetlamps to guide them. Stanford already had a head start, not that it helped much when it was against his athletic twin. They bantered and joked during the race home, eventually walking through the door to the pawnshop full of smiles and cheer.

Oh if only it would have lasted.

“First Stanley and now Stanford?! What the hell Filbrick?!”

Came their mother’s shrill cry in the kitchen alongside the clattering of what was possibly random cookware; the noise had sobered up the twins from their merriment immediately. What had they just come back to? 

Sharing a look with his brother, Ford looked up the stairway with trepid hesitation. Going up right now would only interrupt their parents, and by the sounds of it they seemed to be at odds again. It’s happened plenty of times over the course of their childhood, but never to the degree that things were being thrown around. It was always just yelling unless they were involved.

Recalling those moments of ‘discipline’ still sent shivers down his spine.

“I needed a guarantee! The boy has promise but I just couldn’t refuse this offer!”

“So you sold him off?! First Stanley and now him! I can’t believe you!”

Stanford couldn’t believe what he was hearing, his stomach dropped to the floor in an instant. His palms grew clammy, clutching the strap of his book bag, the dread was overpowering. It was getting harder to breathe, his lungs burning and not from the exertion earlier; it was like someone up and sat on his chest. Had his father really done this…? What about his dreams? His education? His career? 

It was like in the dean’s office all over again.

Stanley just pulled his brother into a tight hug, attempting to mumble comforting words to snap Ford out of it. Any assurances would be empty at this point in time, he flinched when the loud clattering or pots and pans rang out once more. He’d long since accepted his situation, but for it to happen to Ford? It didn’t make sense.

“It’s just a marriage, besides– we’re lucky that someone actually wants Ford as a husband! Have you seen him?!”

Stanley just tuned his parents out at this point, guiding his brother to sit outside the shop with him so they didn’t have to listen anymore to the screaming and the cursing. As special as his twin was in their father’s eyes, he was still considered a freak because of his hands. It wasn’t ever something Stan could wrap his head around, it didn’t make Ford any less capable or incredible. 

Still, people always had to criticise something.

“Why…? I thought I was good enough…”

“You are Sixer! Don’t even–”

“AND STILL THIS HAPPENED!”

Stanford couldn’t help the panic and the frustration that exploded out of him at that moment, digging his hands into his hair in an attempt to ground himself from the rapid pace he was spiralling. It was hard to focus on any singular thing when everything seemed to crumble and disintegrate right in front of him until nothing was left.

Stanley couldn’t help the pity that swelled in his chest for his brother, saying nothing and only giving the other a tight hug. Graduation was rolling around and time was running out. They really couldn’t catch a break now could they? Not today, not tomorrow, not ever? Was that even possible?

Right now, they really needed a distraction.

“Let’s get outta here. I’m sure Ma won’t mind if we’re a little late to dinner today.”

Ford just let his brother drag him around at that point, his thoughts nothing short of a jumbled mess that he couldn’t make heads or tails of. Everything he’d hoped, dreamed of, worked for, practically gone; just like that. 

His hands balled into fists, sorrow bled into frustration– to anger, his life hadn’t even started and his wings were already clipped. Even if he did get farther from here, there was no telling how much distance that would even be. Chances are… not that much. All because of a girl he’d never met, to a family who gave his greedy old man a fat check.

Someone who effectively ruined his life without even being in it!

The loud chime of a pinball machine snapped Ford out of whatever destructive and resentful trainwreck his thoughts were heading towards, hastily looking around himself to find that he was in an arcade. The bright lights and equally obnoxious noises were irritating but distracting, better than nothing the young adolescent supposed.

It didn’t take too long for him to find Stanley by the pinball machines equally frustrated but not for the same reasons. Ford crossed his arms with a blank expression as he watched his brother curse at the machine for who knows what reason, it wasn’t a game that was particularly interesting to him; especially given how much of it was based on chance and not skill.

“What? I was this close to getting the high score!”

“Would you mind explaining why we’re randomly here?”

“Here or home, pick your poison Sixer.”

Stanford didn’t have a retort to that and chose to ignore his twin’s sarcastic tone, both of them were clearly on edge and irate; even if it wasn’t directly at each other. He silently moved to stand next to the machine and actually observe what was going on inside it as his brother put another quarter in to play the game.

The flashing lights were no short of obnoxious as they lit up and flashed at random moments. Ford cringed as another bumper danced in neon hues, at this point the game might as well come with a warning for epilepsy. Stanley didn’t seem to mind however, happily cheering every now and again when the metal pinball would repeatedly raise his score by bumping into more of the obstacles set for it. 

What kind of mind-numbing nonsense was this?

“Stop glaring at the machine, would ya? You’re going to kill my lucky streak!”

Stan narrowed his eyes at his brother when he made an incoherent but disgruntled noise, seriously? Couldn’t he lighten up for even a little while? It would do both of them some degree of good if he just stopped being a hardass when anything pissed him off.

“Look, nothing’s happened yet so could you stop acting like it’s the end of the world already?”

“Not yet, my world hasn’t ended yet. But it’s getting there, holy Moses it’s getting there!”

Ford couldn’t help the sarcasm that flooded off him in droves, there was nobody angrier at his situation than he was so this couldn’t be helped. The brunette was speeding through the five stages of grief at this point for something that had yet to happen, a situation that he also acknowledged he knew very little about as well.

His twin didn’t appreciate the attitude however, returning a deep and annoyed frown at the comment.

“It’s not that bad, the family’s gotta be loaded for Paw to have agreed. You wouldn’t have to work, you’d be loaded once you’re hitched!”

Sadly, that wasn’t the right response either and Ford just grew more irritated; his hands gesticulating wildly and preventing Stan from shoving more quarters into the machine so they could seriously talk. For once, the loud noise around them was a good thing. Otherwise who knows what kind of trouble they would be stirring from this argument.

“Stan, I like working? I like studying? I want to have a notable career and get my name out there?? I can’t do that if I’m tied down like a trophy husband!”

“Oh come on, it’s not like whoever your fiance is would chain you down like a dog.”

“You don’t know that! I don’t know that! For all I know they picked me because I’m like one of those exotic pets that you put on display! Then it’s just: ‘Oh this is my husband, he has six fingers–’ and I’m supposed to be okay with that?!”

Ford got a punch to the shoulder from Stanley for that comment, he knew he deserved it– but that didn’t really placate the man. It wasn’t helping that he was directing his anger at anything and everything aside from the real cause of it. He grumbled out somewhat of an apology before leaning against the side of the machine just as Stanley continued to play.

“It’s not over yet. You still have that project right? If you get admitted into West Coast Tech there’s no way Paw would stop you.”

“Stan, who knows when or where I’ll end up because of the arrangement? Would it even matter if I got in anymore?”

Stanley was genuinely considering giving his twin a good wallop by now, letting out a tired sigh and just focusing on the pinball machine and his game. The scores didn’t matter, the game didn’t really matter, he just needed something to distract his growing irritation and not vent it towards Stanford; even if the latter wasn’t really doing the same.

Ford wasn’t entirely fond of the arcade anyway, too much was going on in too little space; but a distraction was a distraction.

“You have a way out. Maybe take that chance instead of always thinking that only the worst will happen.”

It was only when his twin gestured to the pinball’s plunger that Stanford noticed his apprehension dying down. He always pinned himself to be cynical and nihilistic but there was always a point it would cross into pessimism; an intersection of sorts. The issue was getting out of it.

The machine once again rang a tune to play another round, the plunger’s knob flashing in reds and yellows as Stanley beckoned him to pull it back. The game itself was all about chances, navigating risk and doing what you could amidst the uncertainty. Was this intentional?

Ha, and everyone calls him dramatic.

“You brought me here on purpose.”

“Huh? I’ve got no clue what you’re on about”

Ford rolled his eyes and pulled on the knob, launching the metal pinball into whatever sporadic path his luck drove it to all around the machine. He couldn’t tell if his brother really meant to make the correlation or if it was just a coincidence, either way– he lucked out. 

As Stanley cheered at seeing the highscore rack up on the machine’s leaderboard, his twin was busy already formulating a plan. They didn’t need to tell their old man that they knew what was going on, and frankly it was probably for the best that they feigned ignorance if it wasn’t something he was planning to tell them. It would be fine if things got rough, they had each other to rely on anyway. 

It was always them against the world wasn’t it?

“Hey Poindexter, wanna try beating the top one on this?”

“Sure, it couldn't hurt.”

So it begins, game freaking on!

Fic is also here on Ao3

[kissenturine]

𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐔𝐒 satosugu x m!reader — 2.3k words, not proofread, minors do not interact

TO NOTE: 3some, reader deepthroats geto, ass eating (idk what this called lol), fingering, penetration lol, mentions of a toxic ex, gojo and geto might come off as kind of manipulative-ish (barely), orgasm denial (once)

KAI SAYS: CAPITAL LOSS CAUSE LOVE WAS THE LAW AND RELIGION WAS TAUGHT AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH

“Oh, darlin’, your ex finally dump you?”

“Yeah…”

“Ok, we’ll be there in a few, ‘kay? I’ll pass the phone to Suguru now.”

You sniffled, nodding your head absentmindedly despite the fact that you knew neither Gojo nor Geto could see the motion. It didn’t matter though. What did matter was that they cared. More than your ex — who just dumped you for some random chick — did.

“Hey,” you heard Geto’s voice on the other side of the phone. “I’m sorry. Me an’ Gojo’ll hit up the store to buy your favourite, we’ll be there in a bit.” You could hear Gojo in the background, complaining, and it made you giggle softly.

“Thanks,” you whispered, “don’t take too long though. I want to see you two.”

You could hear the shuffling on the other end as Gojo presumably snatched the phone from Geto. “Yeah, I bet you do,” He said almost jokingly. “We do wanna see you too though so we won’t keep you waiting for too long.”

“Promise?” You whispered softly.

“Promise,” Gojo responded.

You grinned for the first time in a while. Gojo and Geto — your best friends — you could always rely on them to cheer you up, somehow. They were everything you needed. Kind, funny, successful, handsome, they were everything, and they meant everything to you.

The three of you met in high school, and now the three of you are in college. Together. Your eyes were always drawn to whichever one of them you’d see in the halls passing by and you craved their attention whenever you were with them. And, a lot of the time, they gave you what you craved, constantly showering you with gifts and taking you out.

It was… amazing. Gojo and Geto were amazing.

Your ex managed to get between that, unfortunately. But, now that your ex was gone, you hoped they’d still treat you like they did before. With love, and laughter, and with tender and caring touches… You missed them, really.

You smiled softly, collapsing against the plush of your bed that was now dirtied with crumpled tissues from your crying. As you stared at the roof in thought, the familiar sound of the door unlocking and opening reached you. Gojo and Geto were the only ones you’d ever given keys to your apartment to, meaning it was them.

You sat up brightly, greeted by the slam of your bedroom door slamming open. Gojo stepped in first, smiling wide as ever, and then Geto followed soon after, his hair not even pulled up into his usual bun.

“You guys actually came…” You whispered, almost choking on unshed tears.

“I promised, didn’t I?” Gojo grinned at you, dropping the plastic bag filled with groceries by the door as he leapt onto the bed and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“We couldn’t just leave you…” Geto added, moving to sit beside you. His hand found yours, intertwining your fingers together. He gave you a gentle smile and you felt your chest go warm.

“I… I really appreciate this,” You said softly, eyes slowly shifting between the two of them. “Y-You’re the only ones that didn’t leave,” You continued bitterly, still sad and angered about your ex.

“Oh darling,” Geto sighed, tilting you to lean against his chest with Gojo still pressed against yours. “We would never.”

Gojo nodded his head. “In fact, I — we are tired of pretending we don’t—” Geto’s curled fist met the top of Gojo’s head swiftly. Gojo winced. “Geto.” He whisper-yelled. “I thought we would—”

“I said we wouldn’t, remember?” Geto whisper-yelled back, though you were confused as to why they wouldn’t just speak to each other since you could hear them anyway.

Gojo groaned, an arm leaving your waist only to be thrown up in defeat. “What I was trying to say,” he glared at Geto, “was that we’re done lying that we don’t like you.” Gojo’s grip on you tightened and so did Geto’s hand on yours. “You keep datin’ all these shitty guys — no offence — but me and Geto think…” he looked over at Geto, “that we could treat you much better, doncha think?”

Geto nodded his head while you went into a state of… shock? You knew you felt something for the two, but you never considered yourself attracted to them like that. “I— I don’t know guys…” You whispered. “I do love you, but I don’t know if it’s like that.”

“Well then, there’s only one way to test that now,” Geto said, his lips pulling into a grin.

“And that is…?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“We—” Geto started.

“We fuck, of course!” Gojo interrupted, his grin even wider now.

Your jaw dropped. They wanted to fuck — have sex, of all things — to see if you liked them back. “W-Wha…?” You mumbled, at a loss for words. “Is that really what you— what we should do…?”

“Well…” Gojo drawled. “Maybeee we might just want to fuck you but—”

“Don’t say that!” Geto grumbled, smacking Gojo’s head again.

“Ow! Ow! Fine,” Gojo grumbled, finally relenting. “Look, ok, we really like you. Me and Geto — we've liked you for years, ok?”

Geto nodded. “We would never want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable or anything like that, so if you don’t want to, we don’t have to.” He smiled softly at you, bringing a hand to trace your cheek.

“I…” You said hesitantly. “I do think I feel something for the two of you, but god you guys, I’m scared. If I do like you back, what’s to say you won’t leave me like my ex did.”

Gojo heaved a sigh, pressing his face into your neck. “We would never,” He whispered softly.

“And if we did, you can just get Toji to beat our ass again,” Geto mumbled. You knew he hated Toji so to see that he was joking about the older man… Well, it had to mean something.

“Ok.” You said, steeling your nerves, and slightly surprised at yourself for how little convincing it took for Gojo and Geto to convince you. “Ok, let’s do this then, I guess.”

You could see Gojo pull off you with a wide grin. “Oh, you’re not regretting this, trust me.” And then you’re flipped over, lying on your belly with your face flat on the mattress. You felt your legs get lifted, your hands scrambling for purchase to find balance — and eventually landing on Geto’s thighs as you looked up at the black-haired man.

Eventually, Gojo positioned you with your knees bent and your ass up in the air while Geto just smiled down at you. “Ah, you’re so cute like this, you know?” He whispered in a soothing voice. His hand threaded through your hair before lifting your head by the strands and forcing your arms to prop yourself up for balance.

“He was always cute, Suguru,” Gojo said and you could hear the smirk in his voice. You felt his lithe fingers trace the edge of your shorts before yanking them down, an audible tear filling the room.

“Gojo!” You scolded, half embarrassed and half turned on. Your hands quickly darted back in a desperate attempt to save yourself some dignity because of course today was the day you decided to go commando — no boxers yay! — and of course, you somehow ended up with Gojo having a full view of your ass. “....Don’t look.” You muttered, hands covering your hole. You ended up face-first in Geto’s crotch after moving your arms out from under you and you could feel his boner against your cheek.

“Baby, I’m gonna be doing a lot more than just looking,“ Gojo grinned. He moved, his hands grabbing at yours and prying them away easily. You gave up on keeping some decency with a pathetic sound — which made Geto’s cock twitch against your face.

Gojo’s warm breath fanned over your ass and before you could even process it he was licking a wet stripe against your hole, forcing a muffled sound from your lips.

“Don’t do that,” Geto groaned softly and you looked up at him with wide, confused eyes. Do what??

“Fuck it…” He grumbled, his hand fishing through his pants to pull out his cock. You blinked. Ah shit, he was big. “Come on darling…” He murmured, his voice back to his sugary sweet and soft tone. “Suck, darling.” He requested. You watched in awe as he fisted himself a few times before tapping his leaky and flushed tip against your lips.

Hesitantly, you wrapped your lips around Geto’s tip, sucking softly. At the same time, Gojo’s tongue pushed past your rim, a finger of his following soon after. Shit. You moaned instantly around Geto’s shaft, your arms fumbling under you once more and you fell, forcing your throat to constrict around Geto’s whole length with your nose now pressed against his pubes.

“Fuck…” He whispered softly. “You’re really good at this…” His hand went through your hair as he slowly lifted your head, your tongue forced to drag along his underside, tracing a vein, before he abruptly thrust his hips up. Geto’s tip knocked against the back of your throat while Gojo’s finger curled right against your prostate, forcing a wet, muffled cry from your lips.

Your cock twitched pathetically, hanging uselessly between your legs and weeping copious amounts of pre all over the bed. “Please,” you tried to say.

Gojo curled his finger again and again, rhythmically thrusting his tongue in and out of your hole. Geto, on the other hand, just kept you in the same spot, lips wrapped around the base of his cock as you stared up at him pleadingly.

You needed more of it. More of anything. More of Geto fucking your mouth, more of Gojo’s tongue — it didn’t matter.

Gojo’s fingers continued to curl inside you, hitting your prostate over and over until you were practically seeing stars, eyes rolling back as Geto occasionally thrust up and into your mouth. Your hips rocked against Gojo’s tongue, desperately chasing your climax. You were close, so, so, so close.

And hell, Gojo could tell you were close. He sped up his ministrations, forcing your toes to curl and your body to twitch and shake. Wanton moans and cries left your lips — all muffled by Geto’s thick length.

You felt your tummy tighten as your hips pushed back — as far as possible — desperately chasing your orgasm. You were so close! And then, Gojo pulled away, his mouth pulling off and his fingers sliding out of your hole.

“Why?” You cried, almost delirious as Geto pulled your wet lips off his dick. “I- I was so close!”

“Tell us, then, if you want it so bad,” Geto whispered, his hand wiping the drool off your lips. “Do you love us?”

“I do!” You sobbed, leaning desperately into his hand. “I do, I do, I swear!”

“Promise?” Gojo questioned from behind you.

“I promise, I promise!”

“Good.” He didn’t even give you a second to breathe because in the next second his tip was lined up with your desperate hole and he was thrusting his dick into you. You sobbed in relief, only for half of it to get caught when Geto’s dick once again pushed into your mouth.

Gojo’s thrusts were brutal, the pace was much too fast and much too harsh but god you didn’t care because it felt so good when his tip knocked against that one spot inside you and when Geto’s shaft would stretch your lips so nice and wide when he started to match his pace with Gojo’s. Geto grabbed your hair, lifting your head for better access as his thrusts started to become faster and faster.

The only sound left in the room was your muffled cries and the wet sound of skin meeting skin in a desperate chase for relief. Your hands managed to land on Geto’s thighs, curling and scratching through the fabric of his pants.

“You close darling?” Geto grunted from above you, his hand curling even tighter in your hair, Yes, you were close again and you wanted to cum so badly it almost hurt.

Your eyes squeezed shut as your toes curled. You clenched around Gojo’s dick, your moans getting louder and hoarser around Geto’s. “F-Fuck…” Gojo stuttered and Geto groaned in front of you. “You’re fuckin’ good at this, you know right?”

You didn’t have the energy to respond, merely letting your back drop into an arch as your hand reached down to tug at your cock.

“Ah-ah-ah!” Gojo taunted, slapping your hand away. “No touching. You’re only gonna cum ‘cause of our cocks. Ain’t that right, Suguru?”

“Correct,” Geto grunted, thrusting his hips again and again. He stopped for a moment, before spitting right onto where your lips were wrapped around his shaft, a wide grin on his face as he started his pace again.

“Damn, you’re dirty, aren’t ya?” Gojo questioned. He spread your cheeks, following Geto’s example and spitting right on your hole where his dick disappeared into as he thrust quickly. That was the last straw for you.

With a muffled sob, your body twisted and shuddered as you came, shooting thick ropes all over the bed under you. Your body was still convulsing when Gojo and Geto came shortly after. Geto’s hand pushed you all the way down onto his dick, holding you in place as you felt his warm seed coat your mouth while Gojo thrust until he was buried to the hilt before he came, flooding your insides.

“That was good, wasn’t it?” Gojo cooed, pulling out slowly and settling beside you and Geto.

“I-It was…” You muttered, voice still hoarse.

“Good,” Geto whispered, helping you sit up between them.

You smiled almost bashfully, grinning at the two. “I do… love you guys, you know?” You said.

They both smiled at you, Geto kissing your right cheek and Gojo your left.

“We know.”

© KISSENTURINE. do not translate, plagiarize, edit, or repost

[thebaldchoicemachine]

You know how some people believe that Chara or the “Player’ is controlling Frisk to do Genocide?... What if it was the 6 Human Souls that are somehow controlling Frisk to destroy Asgore’s Kingdom in REVENGE for their deaths as well as prevent the war/genocide against Humanity?... That would be an interesting tragic story, and it would be KARMA at its finest! ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜💖 How would Toriel + Undyne + Mettaton + Sans + Asgore react when they realize that Genocide Frisk is being possessed by the dead vengeful human souls that they harvested?

This is such a unique and complex idea... i don't even know where to begin. I kind of just want to chew on this concept. The way I think of them reacting would work better with art than writing but just imagining the looks on their faces when they see the gleam of that child in frisk's eyes.

I think Sans's and Undyne's reactions would be the most interesting since they're the ones who confront you directly about the route.

[chimerafeathers]

there's an essay jumbled up in my brain about dunmeshi's beginning and how clever and deceptive it is as a sleight-of-hand trick that distracts the audience from the depth and scope of the worldbuilding and foreshadowing that's being set up the entire time by dangling zany characters and wacky dishes and biology fun facts in front of us, and how that serves to catch invested viewers off guard when those elements come to the forefront, but also how it works against it with other viewers wanting "more" and not seeing it because the plot bait isn't laid out up front

how people getting frustrated with the characters "not taking things seriously" is mirrored and refuted in the confrontation between Laios and Shuro. how the characters' attitudes aren't just a result of shallow low-stakes "comedy rules" where nothing matters, but are an extension of their personalities (Laios's nonstandard expression of emotions being offputting even to people he knows) and the world and social environment (adventurers being desensitized to death and injury because resurrection magic is commonplace). the way the party refers to "saving Falin" instead of "retrieving Falin's corpse," indicating that they still see her with full personhood, and how that phrasing leads to some readers/viewers believing that Falin is alive in the dragon's stomach, conscious of being slowly digested while the party carelessly fucks around "wasting time." how the weird tonal dissonance makes sense in-universe and yet is deliberately challenged more and more the deeper the party goes

all the character building and pieces of lore slowly weaving together the shape of the larger world, laying the groundwork for the major themes that will surface later. so much is right there in the "low-stakes" early episodes if you know what you're looking for (or pass the perception checks).

it can be so satisfying to see new viewers/readers pick up on the clues even in the earliest "simple" episodes, or notice new things and make connections yourself....and it can also be frustrating to see people dismiss oddities and dissonance as shallow or bad writing because they don't expect a "cooking anime" to have depth like that. why try to question and understand and peel back the layers when you don't expect there to be any layers?

why can't laios take things seriously for once?

[lesbiradshaw]

i wish nonlesbians could be Normal about lesbian headcanons or characters

[illegiblewords]

Uzal/The Dark Urge

[aroacesigma]

yknow i truly do not think i have met anyone who is as much of an asshole as my sister is these days . like i got bullied so bad in primary school that people think im an introvert cause im so wary around people but id still rather be around those fuckers than her right now

[tonycries]

BODY-ODY!

Synopsis. Jujutsu powers aren’t used just in fights…sometimes they’re there to make you absolutely lose your mind.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, ínnapropriate use of jujutsu techniques, INSANE Gojo, breéding, heats (Choso), spítting, cúmplay, marathon séx, slight jealousy (Toji), creampíe, canon Sukuna lactatíon, FÉRAL boys, ratio technique, limitless, extremely neédy Choso, exhíbitionísm (Geto’s), pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.6k

A/N. Hope y’all have a wonderful new week, I’m eepy so I will eep <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - The p*ssy killer!

With Toji’s strength, it was inevitable that he’d break seven bed frames, three couches, and four desks. Unapologetically. 

And with the way he had you like this - splayed out like such a slut on your drenched silken sheets, swollen cock pistoning in and out of your sloppy cunt so easily in that mean mating press he had you folded in - you knew he was well and fully intent on adding to that list. 

“Toji-” you’re gasping over the protesting creaks of the mattress. “S’gonna…”

“S’gonna what, woman?” he rasps out, bringing his ears millimeters away from your pouty mouth. Not even stuttering, smooth taunts falling from his lips each time he bullies his fat length into you. “Can’t hear you over this- damn- bed-”

Another wrecked snap! of wood nearby makes you squeal urgently, clawing for mercy at Toji’s toned hips, “-break! S’gonna break!”

Dark brows furrow in sultry concentration, that tiny scar on Toji’s lips quirking up in a devilish taunt when he gifts another harsh glide of his fat tip against your honeyed g-spot. “Damn right m’gonna break you.”

You don’t get the chance to correct him - you didn’t even need to, because he knew what you meant. He knew. But it was just so fun to shut up those cute lil’ whines of yours. Wrapping two big arms around your thighs to hike them higher up his muscled shoulders, Toji chuckles when you get even more soaked at the feeling of his abs flexing against your skin.

“Heh…s’bad manners to lie, y’know.” Shivers run down your spine at his sweet little scold, only making his grin grow wider. “Ya like bein’ thrown around me like this? Pretending to care about some- fuckin’ bed when all you really want is f’me to ruin this cunt?”

He’s speaking with such confidence - bleeding out from his grunts and churning into each hurried, jagged rut of his cock against your gummy cunt. Using that inhuman strength from his heavenly restriction to maneuver your hips and figure out which angle has you making the sweetest noises. 

You narrow your eyes to meet his glassy one, “M’serious, th-the manager at the ngh- furniture store was concerned last time.”

This earns you a soft smack! right on your sopping slit, Tojis rough palm feeling over the bulge of his massive cock, the hole you were milking him with. Forming a glossy, possessive sheen down his wrist. “You dare talk about another man while m’fucking you like this, doll?”

And, honestly, that desperate wobble of your lips almost makes him feel bad for the way he’s teasing you. Almost makes him wanna cave in and fuck you slow and sensual to save both you and this bed you both had picked out only weeks prior. 

Almost. 

That is until you open your pretty mouth to snap, the words babbling out delirious and bratty. “Well maybe he wouldn’t make me hngh- b-buy a new bed every month.”

Oh. 

That does it. 

You keen when his movements come to a torturous standstill, painfully hard cock stretching out your plush walls to every ridge and curve down his cock. And you can’t help the way your pussy pulses at the low, visceral growl tearing from your boyfriend’s mouth. 

Teeth bared, back muscles flexing as he raises his head up, up, up-

SLAM!

In a split-second, one of Toji’s arms had come down to bang against the already-rickety headboard. Letting a few sluggish seconds of his absolutely animalistic gaze devour you from your dazed, widened eyes to the snug cunt that was sucking the soul out of him - before the bed frame sags on one end with a defeated groan. 

“Whoops.” his words come out in a feverish grunt, eyes half-lidded, pupils blown. “Don’t worry, m’paying tomorrow when we buy a new bed, n’ I can ah- help this manager find you a new one.” A promise - an apology for later.

Still stuffed so deep inside you, he’s securing one arm around you, easily holding you snug against his toned body when Toji gets off the bed - with you hanging onto him in tow. Choking out a gruff, “But for now…”

“F-fuck you’re so deep-” your jaw slacks open to moan sluttily into Toji’s toned pecs, gravity making his greedy thick head slide in so deep to nudge at your cervix. Filling up every nook and crevice of your sweet spots. Molding your cunt to the shape of him. 

And the only response you get is a few sultry, lingering thrusts. His eyes only darting his hazy gaze around the room- shit, where was that desk again? Right, he’d broken it last week. And the loveseat- Ah, that was just last movie night. 

Well, with a low rumble vibrating from his chest, that’s all it takes for you to be spread so shamefully on the bedroom floor. 

Toji’s pushing your face to the cool hardwood, a toned thigh stopping your needy bucking hips, the other keeping your legs open for him to bully back into your hypnotic cunt. Sloppy. Going right for that rhythm from before. 

“Better cum before I break the floor too, huh?”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - BULLSEYE

“Ken~”

“No.”

“...p-please?”

“Nope.”

It’s been like this for far too long now - with you bent over your husband’s home office desk, being absolutely pounded into the various work documents he really should’ve been focusing on instead. 

Of course, there was the speckled yellow tie currently digging into your wrists, pinning them both behind you uselessly as if you were some elaborate sex doll for Nanami to plunge his achy cock into. Though, that seemed to be exactly what he was doing.

And he was holding back.

“B-but Ken–” you’re letting out a thick, sultry whine of his name. Teary lashes batting back at the towering man, “I promise I won’t run away this time.”

His response comes out as a rough grunt, “That was what you hah- said last time before it got too good.” A large hand coming up to thread between your tangled wrists, using the leverage to pull you back onto Nanami’s unforgiving ruts of his length. “And the time before that.” Spearing you about halfway along his swollen cock, he’s splitting your poor pussy open. “And the time before that. And right now.”

As if to test your little resolve, his free hand comes down to kiss your ass with a deliciously resounding smack! 

And he’s only humming in satisfaction with your absolute mess of a less-than-composed response. A low gurgle of Nanami’s name in your throat, legs trembling when they fuck down onto his thick cock. Down and up as much as you could, stuttering as if to run away from the burn.

“Shhh shhh, s’okay, my love. You got it.” he’s hushing your moaning cries, soft palm coming to soothe the sting - and the inevitable handprint. “Jus’ like I said- how are ya gonna handle the ratio technique if you can’t handle that?”

“I will.” Is your stubborn response - as expected. 

But to your surprise, your husband only grins, “Thought so.” Using the tie to pull your cunt back to grind deeper against him, “How about this, darling-” Nanami propositions, hips halting down to slow, shallow circles around your gummy walls. Swiping at the sweet spots he hits effortlessly, he whispers. Low and just aching for the type of trouble you always get him into, “-try not to run away before you cum this time  n’ I might consider taking off these for the next round.”

And then, there’s a sudden shift in the air. It suddenly becomes thicker, almost suffocating. You wince at the sudden feeling of atoms around you standing at rapt attention - before that expression is quickly morphing into one of such bliss when Nanami’s fat head slams straight into your g-spot.

Lingering, nudging against your sensitive spot just before it becomes too much before he’s reeling his hips back to do it again. And again. And again and again and-

“Ken ohhh fuck- oh my god-” you’re going cross-eyed, drool dripping down your mouth with how fucking good it felt. That divot at the gummy tip of his cock branding onto your bundle of nerves. “F-forgot how much I love your technique.”

“Oh, I know.” you can hear the grin in his voice over the crackle of jujutsu. Tugging harder on the restraints at your wrists, “Anything for my wife, after all.”

“Then would you hah- ngh- untie me so that I can touch my lovely husband?”

This earns you another gifted smack! to your ass, and an even harder jam of his thorough cock pistoned right at your magical spot. “Not a chance.” He’s absolutely ruining you from the inside out, and you feel like you’re melting with each expert graze of his veins against your honeypot of sweet spots - not missing even a single one.

Your ass is recoiling against Nanami’s sharp hip bones now, leaving a faint heart-shaped print on his hardened abs. Tufts of blond tickling your searing skin, twitching balls slapping against your forgotten clit.

“F-fuck.” your voice wobbles when his scarily accurate aim is making your ravaged cunt cry out in lewd squelches. Drowning out the strain in your voice when you whimper, “That all you got, Ken?” 

“Perhaps.” he huffs slyly against your ear, still pulling back on your restraints. “It’s real a wonder you’re not hah- runnin’ away, yet. Aren’t ya close?”

It wasn’t a question he needed to ask - Nanami could feel the way your slick walls were channeling around him, massaging and convulsing depravedly with each plunge. So fucking wet it was forming a lewd little puddle down to his heavy balls.

So ready.

So near. 

“I-I am.” you admit, gingerly shoving back onto his mean cock as much as you could. Somehow, every minute movement hitting at your weak spots, leaving stars behind your lids.

Oh how you wanted to buck away - the feeling too good that you wanted to run. Nails digging sharp grooves into the expensive wooden desk, knees weakening pathetically. Honestly, it was a wonder you weren’t falling on sorry legs on the floor right now - it wasn’t, because if you were in any better state of mind you’d have registered Nanami’s strong arm under your stomach, holding your entire weight up easily.

“Then cum.” he grits out, absolute need lacing his tone. “Cum f’me - and don’t run away, my love.”

So you do - and you couldn’t run away even if you wanted to. Because he’s securing a vice-like grip on his tie, holding your back flush against the sweaty panes of his muscled torso. Legs unable to move anywhere but back into him as Nanami fucked you through your high. 

Nanami groans at the feeling of you cumming all over his achingly hard cock. Squeezing and trying to milk out the fucking life of him. “Hah…how gorgeous f’me.” He kisses away those tears of overstimulation rolling down your face, though, he’s still nudging against your bruised sweet spots inside. “Now, s’time for you to hold up that bargain, darling.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - “T-the cult leader?”

That cute, wide-eyed little question of yours makes the gorgeous man in front of you chuckle. A deep, slow baritone that sends shivers right down to where he had you sat on the outline of his thick, straining erection.

“Of course I am.” he purrs against the shell of your ear, shuffling you around so the drenched excuse of your panties was making a mess on the damp spot at his leaky tip. “What about it?”

“Well then why-” you look over your shoulder at the rows upon rows of Geto’s cult members. Faces still, expressionless. Bowed at the waist to look at the floor - but still ever-present. Murmuring in confusion, “-why can’t you tell them to go?”

Another sultry smile. “Oh, gorgeous.” He swipes the tip of his fingers at your syrupy juices, promptly stuffing his mouth full of your heady taste. Moaning so hedonistically, “They’re here for you.”

And then Geto’s shuffling around the expensive robes of his yukata, having you bouncing precariously on his lap when he frees his achingly hot erection. So so red and angry. 

It’s all you can do to bite back your embarrassment when he’s dragging your sloppy cunt all over that veined length of his. Jolting when a hand of his smushes your cheeks together in a pathetic pout,  “Look at me.” he muses, dark dangerous eyes boring into yours. “They’re your welcoming party, after all. Don’t worry, you’re only mine to see n’-” Pecking at your lips in an innocently languid kiss, “-I’ll kill them if they look.”

Right as he says this, Geto’s slipping his fat head past your sopping slit, such a sinful expression of ecstasy taking over his delicate features at the first taste of your heavenly cunt.

“O-ohhh fuck.” he groans, hips coming up in bullying little thrusts to lodge himself inside. “Mmpf- my girl’s cunt feels s’fuckin’ good. How the fuck do you feel this good?”

You’re panting at the sheer stretch - the feeling of your puckering hole being split apart so blatantly - and for hundreds of others to see. Candied lips coming up to graze his in a messy clash, “My girl?”

Ah, just hearing those words echoed back to him has Geto thrusting up mindlessly into your plushy walls. A hand coming back to circle around your clit pooling your juices back on his addicted fingers. 

“Yes-” his long tongue darts out to catch those drops of your slick. Before diving back in again- and again and- “My girl. My pussy. And every one of these little worthless pigs are going to know that now.”

You could practically feel the wave of shudders that run through your audience. But a quick glimpse back showed that they all stayed firmly rooted to their spot, eyes trained on the luxurious carpet of Geto’s hideout. Whereas you were shivering for a whole other reason - because Geto’s lengthy fingers are back to toying with your poor cunt. 

Two of them spreading out your puffy pussy lips to show off how greedy you were being - the way your dripping cunt couldn’t do anything but milk Geto Suguru for each and every one of his delicious inches. Taking him so well as he pounded up lazily into you, making the fat of your ass jiggle with each calculated pump. 

It’s so filthy - so agonizing. 

He noses up your racing pulse, “Heh, I can tell ya liked that, pretty. You just go so much wetter, almost drippin’ onto the floor.” You weren’t - yet, simply forming a glossy mess of slick all over the cult leader’s distinctive robes. “So sloppy I bet they’ll see soon.”

“But you said-” you’re choking when a particularly hard thrust has you clinging onto his broad shoulders for stability. Fingernails blemishing his worshiped skin with red, raw marks gifted from you. “-said m’only yours to see.”

Oh, how he knew you’d be fucking fun.

There’s an almost reverent pitch in Geto’s throaty rasp, “You’re right.” As if seeing you for the first time - and he’s just ramming into you with a greedy grin. “So fuckin’ right.”

Geto’s dick is so girthy that it fills out every crevice inside your pussy that you didn’t even know existed. Balls a rightfully sinful side of heavy that made a loud smack! ripple throughout the otherwise deathly quiet room. 

“You’re mine.” he whispers, strained like he was losing a bit of his sanity with each press up against your spongy cervix. “N’ I should fuck you like you are.” Which had Geto teething down your jaw, your earlobe - sharp canines digging hard when he bites down at the crook of your neck. Enough to draw blood, to break skin, to have you screaming out for- mercy? More? But he’s already plowing on, “N’ everyone here will accept it.”

He lets out such a lovely moan in tandem with yours, head thrown back when his thrusts get untimed. Sloppy. Glistening with need and slick as you mewl, “S-Sugu m’close m’gonna cum-”

Bang!

You whirl your head up to see Geto with his free hand held out, eyes wide, crazed - glaring intensely at something over your shoulder. Something you don’t get to see, because he’d tilting your head back to his in a romantic gesture.

“Told you I’d kill them if they looked.” He breathes, over the distinct growling of his rainbow dragon. Kissing gently at your lips, the tip of his fat cock colliding into your g-spot. “Now, where were we?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Like an animal

There was something that no one in the jujutsu world spoke about the most advanced curses - something hidden. Something dirty. Something that had you crying out where you straddled Choso’s fat cock, big bulbous tears rolling down your cheeks, throat shot when he was stuffing your poor pussy full of his fifth orgasm this rut. 

“Please oh- please.” Choso whines, hips stuttering up into your gummy depths. Strong arms circling your waist to hold you still while his fat head paints your walls white with thick streams of his seed, “Take it- fuck fuck fuck jus’ take it for me.”

Each sloppy half-thrust is all he can manage to drag you through your own climax, lips falling into a soft oh! at the dredges of your sweet sweet juices slobbering down his shaft. 

“Baby…” Choso starts, greedy eyes just devouring that sinfully creamy ring now forming around his soaked hilt. His Adam’s apple bobs as he gulps, voice cracking at the end, “I think-”

And you know that tone. You know what it bodes for your sensitive cunt. Reminded that it’s currently that time of year for your poor curse boyfriend. When something dark, and primal pokes its head out. Aching to touch you, to breed you - killing him to make you his. 

So you’re gasping out in disbelief, “Cho- what! Again?” Scrambling to perch your hands on his pecs and sit up, “The heat’s still not done?”

You don’t get very far - because he pulls you back onto his body with a possessive tug. Looking up at you with big, teary eyes, “No.”

His syrupy words are coated in desperation, a few octaves higher than normal as he murmurs against your open lips. “N’ it’s a rut, baby. All m’gonna wan’ ngh- do is fuck this cute pussy.” he coos, a slick-glossed fist dipping down to squeeze out the last few beads of cum out of his base and into your overspilling cunt. “Don’t think I’ll ever be done- not until she’s properly bred. Not until- fuck m’not gonna- get out of this alive.”

As if he hadn’t just wrangled out another overstimulated high, Choso’s bucking his hips up sloppily into yours. Toned back arching off of the cotton sheets - soaked and absolutely ruined with pools of your sin. 

Over and over and-

“But Cho–” you babble out when his girth is thrashing back at those sensitive areas inside that he’s mapped out so many times before this. “I think I’m not gettin’ out of ngh- this alive.”

In his barely-lucid state, Choso’s taking this as a compliment, flashing a crooked, pussydrunk grin up at you. Face flushed a pretty pink, strands of dark hair sticking to his forehead when he bats his heavy lashes, “Mhm.” 

Then he takes the opportunity when your lips fall slack in shock at his response to plant a steady stream of his spit. Missing purposefully to thumb away the splattered sheen of him along the corner of your swollen lips. “N’ you hah- not going out until g-get this cute pussy pregnant, m’kay?”

The notion is so dizzying that for a moment you don’t believe him. He doesn’t wait for your response - doesn’t have to. 

Back to his mind-numbing addiction of spearing your heavenly pussy on his angry cock. Like he couldn’t stop himself.

Again. And again. And again and again.

And he thinks you look so pretty like this - steady gushes of his cum dribbling down your shamefully spread puffy folds, thighs pathetically shaky trying to keep up with his frenzied tempo. 

A whiny ah! ah! ah! leaves your mouth with each kiss against your ravaged g-spot.

“Cho- I don’t think- ngh I can cum again-” your heavy lips part open to moan. Feeling so raw everywhere. “Are you really gonna-”

“Say it.” he begs. Two hands of his coming up to knead your sensitive tits, running his thumbs in awe over your puffy nipples. “Say it- say it please-” He’s attaching his pretty pink lips around one, cheeks hollowing while he sucks as if trying to draw out something delicious. “Please, ma.”

Fuck - you don’t know what you’re getting wetter at - the lil’ nickname or the way Choso’s dancing a hand down to draw sultry, purposeful circles. Syrupy slick saturating all over his toned pelvis with each ram of his hips.

You’re keening, “Are you fuuuuck jus’ like that- are you really gonna fuck a baby into me? Or die trying?”

“Let’s see…” he lets out a low drawl, quieting down to let your obscene squelches take over. Music to his ears, drunk off of every sound with every harsh piston of his hips. Loud. He gives your clit a hard pinch, grinning, “Yeah. My girl’s pretty cunt says I can.”

It only takes a few more hard crashes of his thick head against your sweet spots before you’re clawing at the headboard, the sheets, him - just anything to hold onto an ounce of your sanity while you’re cumming and cumming and cumming so hard you can’t stop. Wave after wave of your high being dragged out of you.

And if you couldn’t stop - then Choso wouldn’t. Whispering praises slurring together and sticking against your mouth as he spills his potent seed into you once more. 

Wispy strings filling all the way at the back of your pussy while he fucks you through your high. Milking himself on you like some cocksleeve - addicted. Needing to breed you.

Which is why, when his spotty vision catches a trickle of his own seed out of your bloated pussy, Choso’s clicking his tongue. Thumbing your swollen folds further apart, he gives your clit a slow rub to wake up your droopy eyes. “Rut’s not over yet, ma.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Got milk?

“Tch. Stubborn lil’ thing.” the king of curses lets out a proud noise of disagreement - but you catch that tint of red on his high cheekbones, the way his swollen tip twitches wildly against your gummy walls. “S’not gonna work.”

The only response he gets is a cooing hum, your fingers dancing over Sukuna’s pecs to squeeze and grope at the curve of muscle.

So hypnotized with what you’re doing, it’s almost embarrassing for him. And all he can do is tighten the greedy grip he has on the fat of your ass, sliding your sopping cunt down, down, down until your throbbing clit scratches against those tufts of pink. Sitting so prettily on his throne.  

At the site of your lewd entrancement, Sukuna scoffs in frustration, “I told you, brat. I don’t know if you’re already fucked dumb on my cock but- ngh–” 

And oh the great Ryomen Sukuna whines - he whines, such a pretty noise that makes your elastic walls tighten around his rock-hard shaft. Rutting up deeper into your pussy so mindlessly mean when you wrap your pretty lips around one of his puffy nipples. 

“I know what you said, Kuna.” your voice sends vibrations all the way down to his needy cock. Leaky and angry where he was dragging inside your cunt. “But I also know what I heard.” Sucking. Harsh. “And a little birdie told me that someone can make milk-”

“Fuckin’ Uraume.” Sukuna spits, hips picking up the pace now that he has the answer he’s looking for. Long fingernails leaving neat little marks on your skin, “N’ you seriously believed that shit?”

And then he’s making your back arch more, kicking out your thighs even further to spread over the stretch of his girth. Fucking deeper and deeper until he was sure he was massaging at every inch of your walls. 

Managing through pure hissy rage to punctuate each ram of his shaft with threats, “Don’t believe that fuckin’ rumor I swear I’ll kill-” The words die in Sukuna’s chest when he’s snapping his pussydrunk head down at you - the same chest you were still pawing greedily at. “Oi, what did I tell ya?”

When you don’t make a move to remove yourself, he’s dancing a hand down to toy with your neglected clit. Forcing your dazed mouth to pull away. 

“I-I don’t know, Kuna.” you purr, still gasping for air. “Because-” You roll his raw nipples between your fingers again - desperate. Making him hiss. Glassy eyes snapping down to the way he was fucking you so filthy now. “-you seem to love this.”

And he can’t deny it - can’t make up any excuse for the way he was bouncing you along his fat veiny length like some cocksleeve. Pussy lips kissing him tenderly, thick head gliding across your cervix. Sinking into your drenched cunt so desperate. 

Yet, he grits out, “Won’t work.”

“Will.” you smirk, still teasing his pecs the exact same way he’d do with your tits. 

“Won’t.”

“Wi- hah-” your words are being gulped down by Sukuna’s sharp canines nipping on your lips. Drinking in your heady moans with every bullying thrust into your walls. Soft pads of his fingers thumbing at your clit, your puffy folds, pushing himself deeper and deeper. “You’re so unfair-”

That drags out a ragged grin from him, the wet smack of skin-on-skin music to his ears at this point. He’s wiping away the excess drool on your lips from your antics, “Maybe you’re just too gullible. So why don’t you hah- put that pretty mouth instead to-”

And then it happens. 

Your cockdrunk eyes manage to focus on that tiny, beading pearl of white at the very tip of Sukuna’s mouthwatering nipples. Without a second thought, you surge forwards, reattaching your lips with his ravaged skin. 

“O-oh fuck-” he shudders, fingers stuttering where they were drawing obscene circles on your clit. “Wait fuck oh- fuck fuck fuck, brat.”

That’s all it takes for him to cum. Balls squeezing so fucking painfully as Sukuna cums harder than he has in the thousands of years on this Earth. Mashing his cock into you, drawing out every lengthy spurt of his seed to paint your cunt white. 

“Take it-” You don’t know if he’s talking about his cum or his milk. “Fuckin’ take if you want it so bad.”

Each shrill profanity has him reaching deep into your gummy core, bowing his body further to your greedy mouth. The sobbing wet smacks of your lips having him humping you fast. Messy. 

And shit anyone would faint if they saw the infamous king of curses like this - if he didn’t kill them first, that is. 

You, however, his favorite lil’ human, was having the time of your life. Thick globs of cum smearing down your thigh, forming a slippery coating where you were sucking him through his high. Sukuna’s sweet sweet milk treacles down your lips, rich and syrupy. So much that it was spilling down onto lewd little puddles on the curve of your tits. 

“Oi, fuck you greedy little slut.” Sukuna coos at your ravenous pursuit, the way you were pinching at his pecs for more. “Don’t waste- ngh- any of it.”

And upon seeing that grin of yours - that devilishly smug, white-glossed smirk - Sukuna all but forces your lips to crash against his. Hips fucking up menacing - still so pointedly hard, while he tastes himself. “Don’t think m’not gonna make you pay back tenfold for this embarrassment, brat.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Sanity? Optional.

You wondered just how high the kill count would be.

In the hundreds? No, you fear, when your boyfriend slams your apartment door open, eyes hooded, glowing. Barely getting a word out before he’s pouncing on you like a wolf starved, ripping off that useless excuse of shorts with only two fingers.

In the thousands? Probably not, you think, when he doesn’t waste a moment before shoving the entirety of his angry, leaking shaft into your sloppy hole. The only apology you’re getting for the moment being a few praises and whispers of “buying a new pair of shorts for you.”

In the hundreds of thousands? Maybe, you muse, when immediately Gojo is smearing his fat tip against your cervix. Sinking his way into your heavenly pussy to wreak havoc on you where he could be going out of control and destroying a few cities. 

“Nah, millions.” His slow, sensual purr is ringing in your ears, and you have half the mind to wonder whether Gojo had a mind-reading technique, too. Greedy lips dragging up to mouth over your thumping pulse. Dangerous. “Might just take out hah- this whole fuckin’ city if it wasn’t for this ngh- sweet pussy hypnotizing me.”

Each and every babble falling from Gojo’s candied pink lips are followed by some of the meanest thrusts. Having his tight balls smack against your ass, running his mouth as mindlessly as he’s fucking you into the living room couch he happened to find you in. 

You’re gasping when his long fingers come down to give your poor clit a buzzing tap! Sending sparks with the very dredges of his jujutsu. 

“T-Toru what happened?” you’re managing to gasp out, your ears popping at the pressure of the air around your two. “Why are you so-”

“Feral? Out of control? Maniacal?” he fires off, a devilish grin spreading with each suggestion. Eyes wide, tinged with an electric glow, voice breaking desperately as he plows on, “Absolutely fucking losing it?”

If either of you were in a better state of mind, maybe you’d have noticed the way that lamp on the edge of the coffee table exploded. Shards of glass flinging across the room and stopping short where Gojo had limitless poring over the two of you.

“Well, you see…” he’s humming so sing-song, large hands coming up to wrangle your thighs onto his broad shoulders. Gnawing down on his worried bottom lip when he’s trying to squeeze himself impossibly deeper inside you, “-I had a bad day.”

“That’s it!?”

Those startled words are bursting from your lips without any thought. And they have Gojo narrowing his eyes at you like a predator cornering his prey, teasing grin curling down into something almost garish.

He hikes a muscled thigh up, fingers tightening around the plush of your thighs. “Yes, that’s it.”

It’s quiet - barely audible, even - followed by a low thrust that reaches you all the way in the bottom of your pussy. Somehow bruising - Gojo’s fat tip clashing against your g-spot, your cervix, so hard it makes a broken whimper drag from your shot throat.

And this seems to jolt him back to his senses somewhat, that furiously depraved glint flickering in his summer blue eyes. “Oh, sweetheart.” he sighs, crashing his lips against yours in a sloppy mess of teeth and spit. “Couldn’t stop hngh- thinkin’ about you all day. Couldn’t stop wanting- needing-”

He’s cutting himself off with a pained groan, back to having the soft pads of his fingers roll over your clit in humming, sultry circles. Little buzzes of his electricity going right through your veins. “Fuck, s’all I thought of even when- hah- fighting. Just you, my girl, waiting at home f’me to stuff you full of my cock.”

Sloppier. Incessant - just milking himself on the dripping channel of your cunt. Deep, lingering thrusts that have you missing him every time he’s reeling back. A few stuttering pops of bones have you spitting out slobbering little pleas into Gojo’s panting mouth, gummy walls sucking him in so good. Clamping down until it was almost difficult for him to ram into your greedy pussy. 

Honestly, whatever shreds of your rationality wondered how the fuck you two were still unharmed, still having no bones broken - it was because of his reverse curse technique, you later learn.

But for now all that was going through your honeyed, oversaturated mind was how full you were of him and only him - until you could barely even breathe-

“Hey hey now.” His words a smooth coo, not betrayed just how ragged his hips were. Another few smacks of his ruthless fingers right down your sopping slit have you wrenching your eyes back up at him. Your poor clit getting caught in the crossfire, leaving lewd smears glistening all over Gojo’s palm. The overhead lights flicker, illuminating little blue specks of lightning as he kisses gently on your forehead, “F-fuck- keep up, pretty.”

Somehow, you manage to gasp, “Keep up?”

“Mhm, because m’not fuckin’ done until I pass out.”

The words are pushing you over the edge, and before you know it, your velvety walls are squeezing around Gojo’s engorged cock so tight. So heavenly as he fucks you through your high - not even bothering to ease you into it, he couldn’t.

And it only takes a few silky whines of his name out of your mouth before he’s beading out pearly white spurts of cum. Overspilling into the snug channel of your pussy, thick seed gushing out as Gojo shoves it deeper and deeper to decorate your walls. His snowy brows knit together when he cums and cums so fucking hard it’s like something bursts.

And something did - every single lightbulb within a fifteen mile radius of your apartment. 

But you don’t notice, too caught up in Gojo’s syrupy sweet hum, “Well, m’not passed out yet n’ since the electricity’s gone I guess there’s only one thing to do, huh~”

A/N. LMFAOOO Toji acting like he can afford to buy another bed smh. Also the way Sukuna being able to lactate is canon?? Gege you hoe.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[5hrignold]

i gotta say all the content and genuine discussion around gwimbly and james is really making me appreciate and think about all the secondary/background characters and clients more than i ever did before. and its also kind of happening with allan too ive been also thinking about him as well. i already said this but the season literally could not come out for another 2 years and i would be fine like it hasn’t even released and it’s already doing so much for the show