#am i just looking for an excuse to talk about it? yes

[backinmyphase]

Just a heart broke bitch!

Synopsis. Only 24 hours passed since your ex ended it. So why did you find yourself in a club waiting for someone to fuck? Someone like Satoru Gojo?

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, college! Gojo, Satoru is down bad and reader doesn't know, overstím, (not mentioned but reader is on the pill), nipple sucking

Word count. 2.2k

A/N. I have never written smut before, so this is more like an experiment hehe

"Shouldn't we at, fuck! hah~ l-least have a first date?"

Gojo had that smug smile on his face as his eyes looked down at your body, inspecting the sweat that was shining from your naked chest. Behind his smugness you could see his back tense up. Just as sweaty as yours. His hair disheveled, standing up in all directions.

"S-shut u-AAAAAAh-" you gasped and couldn't keep the moan in as he made you shudder with his-

"Up."

A little context to this situation you found yourself in. You were in a shit position. A couple of hours before you sat at the table of a cafe trying to grasp what was happening right there.

"What?"

"We should break up." your, well now ex-boyfriend didn't have any readable expression on his face. "I can't do this anymore."

"What do you mean with this?" your body stiffened, no seeable reaction shown.

"I heard about how you acted in high school. About your little adventures with your friends." his look was different from before. It was filled with- "I don't want a girlfriend which is a slut. Who sucked off more men than she kissed."

Your hand gripped your glass of coffee harder. "Excuse me?"

He shook his head. "You know what I am talking about. Let's just end and forget about this relationship. It was never that good anyway."

And like that he got up and walked away.

And you really wished you got up and gave him a piece of your mind. Tell him how it really was at these parties which you were back then to young to go to. And how the guys you met there knew that. How they used that.

Tell him what kind of entitled asshole he was, to shame you for your old ways of seeking validation.

Back then you were only seventeen. And they were at least twenty one. But you were the filthy slut, who was to wild and surely not loyal enough to be in a relationship, right?

You hated how even now you just swallowed your emotions, your tears and your feeling of self worth.

Because you shouldn't be crying about such an asshole, right? Your friends, well they called themselves that, said not to sulk just search for a new one in the club. They probably told him all about your old stories. Like always when things were going good for you.

They were the only people you had, who stuck by your side. So was it really your fault that you took out your black dress, with your six inch heels?

Yes.

Because even though you wanted to deny it, you liked this boy you had dated. He was your first real relationship, shouldn't that mean something?

But it was never that good anyway, right?

While sitting and sipping champagne in this nightclub, you could already feel your common sense slipping away.

Stupid like back then, because you should know that your friends wouldn't bring you back to your home. Isn't that how you ended up in all these beds? Them doing drugs outside while you were drinking with a guy who will bring you with him, no matter what you really wanted.

You shouldn't trust those people.

It was always just drunk calls, drunk texts, drunk tears, drunk sex.

And those days were behind you. Right?

You wish you could say that. But then you wouldn't be sitting here, dressed up to forget what was really going through your mind right now. No, they weren't behind you and maybe your ex was right.

You stopped smoking along time ago. You stopped following these things that told you you were only something with them. But today was different.

You took some cigarettes that were given to you from some dude with a devious smile. Not your best move. But right now anything was better than you alone in your head.

"This seat free?"

And then there was this guy like your fate was laughing at you. This guy who had this gorgeous white hair and kind of boyish smile. Like a perfect opportunity to forget tonight.

"Yeah, no worries." you were kind of surprised at the sound of your own voice. It was raspier than usual. Like the smoke already made it's mark.

His tall frame lowered onto the seat next to you, his body facing your direction, instead of the bar. He already had this curious look. "So what brings you here alone?"

You shrugged and gave the bartender a sign as you finished your champagne. "Two more wines, please."

The bartender just nodded and fetched you your first one.

"Woah, slow down." The white haired mans expression changed. "That bad down to get wasted?"

"Yeah, well wouldn't be in a Club if not, or would I?" you looked up at his face, and now was your turn to check him out. Other than the fact that he was tall and he was insanely pretty. That was no problem, in fact it helped. But his almost concerned expression wasn't.

"I guess." He tilted his head a bit. "What's your name?"

Maybe it was the alcohol but for some stupid reason you just told him your name. And he leaned forward and whispered.

"I'm Gojo Satoru."

That wasn't ideal. While you didn't really care about your college people, he had quite a name in your college. But any critical thinking was thrown out of the window since your second shot in the last hour.

Amd as you looked at those eyes that had the for you known look in them you whispered back.

"You want to fuck?"

Yeah, your thinking really did leave an hour ago. Because you swore that you would never be in these surroundings and would never ask such a question a stranger again. But like back then you just wanted to forget.

You didn't remember what came next and how you did end up in this small apartment. All you did know that you were impatient at Gojo because he took too long to get on the bed and fuck you.

Why were there two glasses of wine on this table next to him? Were you talking to him? You couldn't remember.

You just knew that you needed something to keep these thoughts away.

"God, you are driving me crazy." he was on top of you, his hands were everywhere, touching you, heating up your body.

"So beautiful for what?" he mumbled, his naked body (wait when did he get naked? When did you get naked? Oh what does it matter...) was pressed against yours as he kissed your lips.

"I need you now." your arms now around him pressing him closer to your, trying to get your aching pulse down there closer to his.

He laughed and laid his head back. "You are acting like a dick you know that?"

"Well you might as well stick it in."

And that's how you ended up under Satoru Gojo as he bullied his far too big cock inside you.

And you could almost swear he was in love with you, with how he clashed on your teeth so messy, so hot, so starved. Like he couldn’t get enough with the way he hastily moves to press wet, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw. 

"Oh. Fuck. You are so unfair you know that?" he was heavily gasping for air, but still made sure to leave a kiss after every deep thrust inside you.

"Is that what you wanted? No more thoughts because I fuck you so good?" and he went all the way back out of you just to slam his hips back down again.

"fuck!" you almost screamed as he hit that spot inside again, holding onto his back, no more like clawing at his back for dear life. "right t-there, please!"

His head went lower with his trail of kisses until he reached your chest. "No need to beg, pretty."

Your body is slick with sweat and only growing hotter by the moment; the sound of his rough panting coupled with the occasional whine he lets out only has you panting more.

And he has the nerve to go faster while thrusting inside you. Making you see stars as he kissed your nipples, sucked on them, made out with your chest.

"Satoru!" you moaned, you couldn't do anything else. "You are killing me!"

And even though you were far gone and overstimulated to the moon you could feel his cocky smile at your chest. And he didn't even consider slowing down at your plead, no he more seemed proud of himself making you so fucked out.

How is he fucking you like his life depended on it, couldn't he get tired? Every lasting slap! at your walls had you gasping for air, while he had to close his eyes at how your walls clamped down around him and sucked him back in.

Was this heaven?

"Are you close?" he was out of breath while he stopped sucking for just a second and you would be lying if you said you didn't want him to just continue.

"Yeah, please keep going."

"What did I say about b-begging?" he moaned again. " I'm getting closer myself. Where do you want it?"

And for some dumb reason you screamed-

"Inside!"

And he did. You felt the hot spurt inside you, filling you up, making you feel so full. And yet he didn't stop, no still helped you to reach your high.

And you couldn't help how his frantic hits against your core caused your toes to curl and your back to arch further than ever before as you’re slowly being brought closer to your tense, and awaited edge. “Cumming, cumming!”

"Yeah, just let go for me..." his voice was low amd his face suddenly no longer on your chest, but so close to your own. "Cum for me, pretty girl."

"Ooh... Ah!" it was almost embarrassing how hard you came. But you needed that at this day. Maybe it was far more embarrassing how you were asleep five seconds later.

"Fuck, baby, you are so beautiful..."

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"Want a glass of water?"

Your eyes were still sticky, the last night not fully slept away. Where were you? This wasn't your own bed.

You sat up, but realizing that your head would spin and push you down before you could steady yourself. And as you looked up you saw him.

And you remembered what had happened yesterday.

"Wouldn't hurt." he answered himself and sat down next to your, heavy, heavy body and somehow lifted your back so you sat. Bringing the water to your lips.

"Drink so you don't throw up on me now."

You just obeyed him and sipped on the cold water, that went down your aching, dry throat so deliciously. You downed it in one sip.

"That's right." his hand went up and down your back soothing. "You and I had maybe too many drinks yesterday."

And then you realized the situation.

You were sitting here. On the bed of a stranger. With still no clothes on. As you drunkenly followed him into his apartment. What was wrong with your brain?

"Thank you." you took the glass from him. "I'm alright now."

He had that soft smile and something inside it punched you inside your gut.

"Alright I'm doing breakfast now." he stood up and looked amused as you hid yourself under his covers. "You can come when you're ready."

And like that he was out the door. Breathing began to be so much easier. You had to find a way out of here. And quickly, before this was becoming more awkward than it should.

What were you thinking yesterday? Fucking Gojo Satoru of all people? You just proved the point of your ex. You really were a slut.

Your things were all around the room, probably disgarded in the act yesterday. Picking them up and dressing yourself in them again felt nasty, like last night was sticking onto you.

You opened the door and looked around to see the exit. And there it was. The wardrobe with your shoes. You tiptoed there, softly.

"Leaving already?"

You turned around to a Gojo Satoru leaning against the doorframe of the supposed kitchen. He looked amused and had one eyebrow raised.

"Well, yeah... I completely forgot about it, but I have some things to do..." you fiddle with your shoes impatiently.

"Alright, should I bring you home?"

"NO!" You cleared your throat. "I mean- there is really no need."

He shrugged. "If you say so. But be safe and drink at home again."

You nodded and with that you were out.

You didn't remember your old one night stands to be that open and smily. No, they just told you how to leave and slept through the morning, while snoring.

Your phone vibrated inside of your bag. And you could see a message of a new number.

Satoru <333

Hey, get home safe!

Oh and we exchanged numbers yesterday, if you don't remember.

You couldn't help but feel guilty, but you left him on read. Why did he message you? Why was he so nice to you like he wanted to get to know you.

How could you tell him, that you just used him as a good fuck?

[act-nat-ural]

Something’s Different

When Shoyo had gotten back from his time in Brazil, he was… different. Yes, he had improved in his volleyball skills and had somehow gotten even more outgoing, but it wasn’t just that. He had changed… physically. He was significantly tanner than before, and if he lifted his arms the right way you could see his tan line peek out and tease you. He had also gotten a bit of a growth spurt, growing into himself. But what stood out to you the most? His muscles.

Currently, you two are supposed to be catching up after years apart, but you can't bring yourself to listen to a word he says. You watch entranced as his thighs flex as he bounces his leg, or his throat moves when he gulps down his drink, or when he moves his arms enthusiastically when he talks-

“Are you still listening?” He teases with a smile. Shit.

“Of course I am.” You chuckle and try to collect yourself. His eyes crinkle as he grins even wider and he rests his arms behind his head. Oh lord.

“Suuure. What's got you so distracted?” He asks curiously. You blink and try to come up with an excuse, face burning slightly, but he suddenly leans forward. You make a less-than-flattering sound and jump backwards.

“What the heck, Shoyo?!”

“You have something on your face. There!” He gives a cheeky grin and wipes a nonexistent crumb off your face. You blink, still flustered from his sudden movement. He’s laughing now, that carefree sound you remember so well, but there's something different in the way his eyes sparkle—more confident, teasing. You try to steady your breath, but it’s hard when your heart won’t stop racing.

“Y-You didn’t have to—”

“Just making sure you’re not too distracted, y'know?” he says, voice playful, but there's something else in his expression—something you can't quite place. "What’s going on with you? You’re acting a little… off."

"I’m fine," you mutter quickly, still trying to play it cool. But inside, you're completely off balance. You can't stop staring at his arms as he leans back again, the muscles there moving so effortlessly, his shirt stretching slightly. It’s a casual, carefree motion, but it makes your breath catch in your throat.

He raises an eyebrow, looking at you like he knows something you don’t want him to know. "Uh-huh. Sure you are." His tone is light, but there’s that little bit of mischief in his eyes—like he’s waiting for you to crack, to admit something that’s been simmering beneath the surface.

You wish you could focus. You wish you could just relax and catch up with him, like you’d imagined for years. But instead, you're stuck in this loop where all your thoughts seem to orbit around him, around the way he’s changed. The way he moves, the way he talks, the way he looks at you now.

"Come on," he says, breaking through your spiraling thoughts. He leans forward again, his eyes fixed on you with such intensity it’s almost like he's daring you to say what’s really on your mind. "Something's definitely up."

You swallow hard, nerves bubbling up. Your heart is pounding, and suddenly the room feels too small. It's just the two of you, but it feels like there’s a distance between you that wasn’t there before. The time apart, the changes, all of it feels too much to process in one sitting.

Without thinking, you blurt, “You look different.”

He blinks, a flash of surprise in his eyes, and then he chuckles, the sound low and warm. “Is that so? I mean, I guess I did get a little taller and, uh, bulkier…” His grin widens, clearly proud of the changes, and you can’t help but notice the way his chest expands as he laughs.

But you’re not just talking about that. You’re talking about the way he carries himself, the confidence that’s oozing from him now, in a way that’s both familiar and new. He used to be all energy and charm, bouncing around and smiling like nothing could keep him down. Now, he’s grounded, somehow, with a quiet intensity that pulls you in even more.

"That's not what I mean," you say, your voice quieter this time, softer. You’re not sure if you want to say the words out loud, but they slip out anyway. "I mean… you’ve changed. In a way that’s more than just, well, physical.”

His eyes flicker with understanding, and for the first time since you’ve been sitting here, his playful grin falters just a little. He leans back again, but this time there’s a more thoughtful look on his face.

“I get it,” he says softly, nodding once. “I guess a lot has changed, huh?”

You nod in return, relieved that he seems to understand. But at the same time, you feel that knot in your stomach tightens. There’s something unspoken between you two now—something that neither of you has addressed, but you can both feel it hanging there, suspended in the air.

The conversation drifts, and for a moment, you both sit in silence. It’s a comfortable silence, though, one where the tension between you slowly starts to ease. You’re not sure how long it lasts, but eventually, you find yourself laughing at something he said, and his infectious grin returns.

But this time, when his eyes meet yours, there’s a new layer of warmth in them, something that wasn’t there before. And just like that, the world seems to fall into place again. You’re still nervous, still unsure of where this new version of him—of you—fits into everything. But for the first time since he came back, it feels like maybe things could work out after all. Shoyo shifts closer from across the table, resting his fingers against yours in a way that doesn’t feel like an accident. He’s still the same Shoyo you remember, but somehow, you feel like you're seeing him in a new light.

“You know,” he says, voice dropping a little lower, “I’m really glad we’re hanging out again. I missed you.”

Your breath hitches, but you turn to look at him, offering a small, shy smile. "I missed you too, Shoyo."

He grins back, his eyes softening. And for the first time in a long time, you feel like maybe this isn’t just about catching up anymore. Maybe it’s about something more. He doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he gives you a playful wink and leans in, just enough to make your heart skip. It’s a little daring, but you don’t pull away.

You have no idea where this is headed, but for once, you don’t really mind.

[katerinaaqu]

It's hard talking about the disrespect to Greek mythology and religion when every argument people brings to the table is "look at this original novel that is adapted into a movie that is turned into a tv show that didn't follow the original plot" as if the Greek culture is on par with fictional story instead of a tradition and heritage of real life people.

A media that is broadcast to the public and make accessible to everyone that erased the values and lesson of a cultural story still can do harm when it feeds misunderstanding and misinterpretion of the culture it originated from.

Greek people has the right to be upset when their culture keeps getting misrepresented, doesn't matter the good intentions behind it, why must it be at the expense of Greek culture?

You can create arts that is so beautiful and so praises by many, and years from now you could look back and see what an amazing experience and community you have created out of it. But at the same time you also continue feeding the distorted ideas and flawed understanding about a culture as a whole.

All because you took from a culture and want to tell your own story.

Retelling is telling back the story. Any addition or new ideas you bring is when there's part in the original story that is vague or open for interpretations. Even then, when you elaborate, you follows the already presented ideas that the original story already established.

If it so beloved to you and so meaningful to you, why couldn't you be faithful when adapting and retelling with the talents you have?

Shouldn't it be better if you created an original story inspired by it? If you feels that the values and standards are not to your taste, but you so loved the stories and could related to it, isn't it better to create original characters and settings with your own voice and narrative with the story inspiration as the backdrop?

At this point, what is greek mythology and lore to you? That makes you so passionate so inspired, that spark your imagination that encourage you to be creative but it is at the ruin of old age history that is meaningful for the Greek identity. Do you really appreciate the values and moral that you gained from the stories, or did you forget yourself along the way?

I couldn't have said it better! I agree to all that because that is exactly my sentiment as well! On one hand of course I am proud that Greek mythology contnues to inspire and people want to create stuff on them or that even now there are people who think the values of Greek Mythology are universal and they are!

But as you said it pains me to no limits when stories that were literally created from people based on their culture and religion to pass on messages are not only distorted beyond recognition but also to a degree where nowadays most people of Greek mythology liking spectrum know only how terrible villains some men are (in actual mythology they are complicated personas) and how weak women are (there are literlly figures in Greek mythology that are so strong personas that honestly I am shocked. See Helen for example how she is the most projected persona as a pretty face that does nothing when Helen literally taks back to Aphrodite, she is the only one who sees through Odysseus's disguise, she has knowledge of medicine and so much more for once) Mythology loses all its meaning, all its allegory and all its cultural spectrum because as you said people do not use it to retell the story, they use the word "retelling" as their excuse to just tell a story that fits them by using the popularity of greek mythology and yes as you said why cannot they say their original stories while using inspiration from Greek mythology?

Honestly I have nothing to add! You said it all dear Anon!

[vulpixisananimal]

<Null> {Mal Du Pays} (Siffrin) [Loop] [(Siffrin?)]

{Who are you. You held the new presence by the cloak. Fake smile. Fake. You thought this was Loop. Loop who was acting strange.}

[(. . . I, I'm S-)]

{I heard you the first time.}

[(Oh haha! It's ok to be hard of hearing. I'm hear to help a-)]

{Shut. Up.}

[(. . . .)]

{. . . Do you know where you are.}

[(. . . No.)]

{You're in bed. We're in bed. We're drifting off to sleep, soon with Isabeau next to us. Far, far from the house-}

[(Liar.)]

{. . . ?}

[(You're lying to me. I'm hallucinating. This is a nightmare. The housemaid will wake me up soon. We'll find the water. The keys. The fire. The-)]

{Stop.}

{It was cold. Quiet. The new one looked like Siffrin. And maybe acted like Siffrin once upon a time, but not any more. The smile was still there. We're not in the house anymore.}

[(. . . . .)]

{. . . . You feel like loop. Why.}

[(I'm nothing like that star.)]

[(I'm nothing like that coward. I'm nothing like that fool. I'm nothing like that, like that weak part of myself. They will never get their wish, MY wish.)]

{They kissed Isabeau.}

[(Because of that shared body. He doesn't love us. We're just manipulating him. Getting him to fall for us by copying those cute mannerisms of a Siffrin long gone. I. Am. Siffrin.)]

{. . . You're who Loop was, who they were before-}

[(And what are you? Shadow? Sadness? You're a disgrace. A joke. A sick freak who doesn't deserve love or forgiveness. Protect everyone? What a joke. You just want an excuse to hurt people and take the fighter all for yourself. You should disappear. Disappear and never return-)]

{Enough.}

[(Maybe you should bite back for once. Could do something good for once. Your dagger is there. You should kill them. Kill them now before they take Siffrins heart-)]

{ENOUGH.}

{You had a theory. You make the call gesture. You wish to talk to loop.}

{. . . . Hmm.}

Ow-

{Loop?}

Not, sure. Maybe.

{The figure was, for lack of a better word, glitched. Are you dissociating?}

Yes I, think so.

{. . . . Do you need a hand.}

F. . . Fine.

{reluctantly, you open your arms. The. . . Loop? Siffrin? The mix of them both, was in your arms. You shuddered.}

{. . . . Breathe?}

Breathe. . . . In. . . . Out. . . .

. . . . . .

You. . . Forced, forced us into, ah, blurriness.

{Like how we get blurry? Unable to tell who is who, but it's. . . You?}

Ha. . . Exa[ctly- oh! You step away from Mal. Your blinding head hurt so, so much. You, weren't sure what just happened. How do I, look.]

{Like a star. You have that star cloak Isabeau gave you now though.}

[Strange. . . I. . . I'm, not sure what just happened.]

{. . . I have an idea. But you need to rest. I'll deal with it.}

[I. . . Fine. I don't want to be here anyways, stars. . .]

{. . . . Once Loop was gone, you return to reality. You get up from bed quietly, careful not to awaken Isabeau, and find the journal you were gifted. You to to the window, to write by moonlight.]

{"Unable to sleep, late night, Loop fronting, strange thoughts and going on in front. Loop was being strange. It was hard to get to front. Eventually got. New headmate."}

{You pause for a second, and look for that little booklet that lady gave you. You looked for something specific in it. . .}

{"booklet page 4, possible subsystem? Loop and not-Siffrin shared body in headspace. Not-siffrin is. ." You pause to look at the booklet again. ". . . Possible persecutor. Handle with care. Talk to. Get me if causing issues."}

{. . . . You sigh. "Loop has many issues. Must. MUST talk about them. Need name for Not-Siffrin. Tell party?"}

{You leave four boxes in the book, and put an X in yours. You didn't want to bother them with it, not yet. . .}

{. . . . You sign off on the journal. Put it away. Then get back into the shared bed. You get closer to Isa. At least he was here, as a silver lining.}

[xsommeee]

Dazai's room is an exact replica of what Mori had in his. Nothing touched everso slightly, he rarely sleeps at night, sits glued to a chair in the corner and states in the dark. Talking to himself at various moments, arguing passionately against tall red drapes. In a Victorian era styled rooms with bedded pillars and purple soft carpet floors. Multiple grim artworks hung on the walls with heavy embellished frames.

If you asked Dazai what the model number written under the gun of a goon who walked past him this morning, he'd tell you with absolute certainty. However he had no idea about the bedding in his room, or the couch, he didn't even know the curtains were red. He simply never looked at them, he only saw the high void like ceiling.

“Comment était votre petit voyage?” Dazai remarked without moving. The room was completely silent before this, a normal person will say there wasn't a person there either.

“Il n’y a jamais de voyage.”

“Then where were you this whole week? Trying on better dog collars?” Dazai says glaring at the other. There was light illuminating a scowling slime face.

Chuuya Nakahara was missing from the Port Mafia quarters, the second in command had performed none of his duties for over two weeks “I need to talk to you, with sincerity�� Chuuya breathes in “You- you delivered a box filled with over 200 hearts to the place I was in today.” Chuuya crosses his arms, visibly uncomfortable.

“Two hundred and thirty three for the fourteenth day of you not coming back. The Fibonacci sequence you know, I recognise your love for math and physics.” A horrific grin plastered on Dazai. Chuuya opens his mouth but falls short of words only to get interrupted.

“You wanted to avoid this outcome? I had warned you, Chuuya. You could have filed a leave application instead of disappearing, why didn't you? Did you really think I was bluffing?” “Bastard!” Chuuya grits, “you knew where I was!”

“Yes, and that doesn't excuse your absence.” Dark eyes cut into crystal blue ones. There's a surge of pain in the latter.

“Dazai,” Chuuya walks towards him half bowed with a desperation and uncomeliness he'd never felt. Wildly gesticulating every word and eyes blown wide. He screams, abuses and cries all through the same words and speaks without breathing. “I’ve had nothing, nothing to do for more than six months. I know batshit about whatever you're doing, hell that white hair kid who's been here two days knows more than I. A shitty goon with no use but to die first is more useful than me. Hell Dazai I’d fucking go out there not use my powers and fight like that recruit. But all, all that I do is come to this goddamn building and sit in an office she used to sit in. Watching people I used to know and respect deride me. Spit on me for the traitor I am! You wanted revenge over me not supporting your accession.”

Chuuya fists Dazai’s shirts shaking him with his own trembling body, “You’ve had it. I don't think you could have more. I'd say whatever you want, do whatever you say. Just- just let me peace, some peace. Stop torturing me like this. Like you’re unaware, behaving like this is alright, I’m tired. I’m sick. I’m already crazy! There's nothing left, nothing, nothing, nothing!”

Dazai had gotten up during this tirade, holding the hand fisted in his shirt, rubbing Chuuya's back soothingly with the other. By the end of it a heavy silence ensued. Dazai stared at his eyes brimming with unshed tears.

He started speaking calmly as if Chuuya was upset after seeing a rat get run over by a car. “Shh, don't be like this. Walls have ears, if someone heard chibi right now, you want something to do that's all? If that's it, I want you as my bodyguard. I had proposed it multiple times. You don't need to go anywhere, not the office or meetings, just stay.”

“Stay with you?” Chuuya murmurs under his breath. Dazai moves in closer, pushing Chuuya into his chest, trapping him with his arms. A dark room with two figures towered inward, they're two worlds colliding, obliterating each other.

From an outsider's perspective the Port Mafia's boss and his second in command are such dynamically different people. A different species altogether Osamu Dazai with his cold antipathic gaze, he can scare people with his mere presence in a room silent, still and unfeeling. There is anger in him too, unlike what appearance states, but it is reasonable and calculated, a white freezing fire. Chuuya Nakahara on the other hand is scalding hot, even to Dazai, burning himself from within like an amber ignited orange and red. He is simplehearted and straightforward to most, nevertheless complexities lay buried deep within him, in their presence he begins to think of everything as an act, a heinous disgusting lie. Dazai pokes that part of him, a place where they align the most perfectly in his eyes.

Dazai smashes his lips over Chuuya's, holding his nape in his hand to bend him up. The energy that possesses him while doing this however leaves him instantly, he backs just a little but their lips still touch, feeling each other's breaths fan over.

A few tense moments pass like that. Dazai stirs first, he knows the reason why Chuuya wants to leave. He moves backwards with such slowness as if moving away is excruciatingly painful. Chuuya doesn't let him move too much though, kissing Dazai full and tender, breaking it at times to look into his dilated eyes as if to read some unknown secret. Dazai holds him tighter than a drowning man stuck in a storm with only a log to float.

Read the rest here? Idk I really like this fic, like really I hope people read it, I'd write like one chapter more :

[littlelovelyra]

Of Chains and Crows

Chapter 1/?: "Little Crow"

Word Count: ~ 1,800

Minors DNI - 18+

ao3 if you prefer

Female Rook (named) x Lucanis

Summary: After an almost shared kiss, Lucanis loses his self control and indulges in one night of passion.

Notes: This is a bit of a re-imagining for Lucanis' romance - I'm still finding my footing with this pairing and there will be some moments of pining and angst after this chapter coz things with Spite will get complicated in my story :) Also this was written quite fast as I write on my lunch breaks haha so please excuse any errors or if things feel rushed etc

______________________________

Lucanis:

Mia de Riva was captivating, and it wasn’t just her looks that snatched your attention, no, her effortless form in combat while fighting alongside you had magnificent beauty. Finding someone who complimented your blade craft was hard to come by, yet she fit perfectly. It was as if the gods made her just for you. 

Since the first moment you saw her when she rescued you from the Ossuary, her presence has nestled comfortably in your mind, much to Spite’s disgust, and now the yearning has grown stronger each day. How you wish you could weave your fingers through her soft curls while you whisper sweet nothings against her skin; the thought alone sends a blaze of desire coursing through you. “Mierda. You need to stop this Lucanis.” You mentally urge yourself to break free from the temptation she brings you because you know that nothing could ever happen. Who would want to be with someone that has a demon attached to them?

“Ahhh yes, who would want the baggage you carry, Lucanis?” Spite hisses, enjoying his new weapon of torment to use against you. “Although… I am sure you must have noticed her interest in you, no?” He continues his mind games as you desperately try to block him out. 

Admittedly, there have been moments where you have felt her express interest but you are unsure whether that is delusion or real… so you play it safe and respond politely. You have been out of the game for quite some time now and you fear you may have lost your touch with women.

As if summoned by your thoughts, a light rap sounds at your door, and it sickens you knowing that you have memorised how her knocks sound. Before you have time to respond, Spite uses your momentary distraction to take over and once again you are a prisoner in your mind.

________________________

Mia:

Maybe you didn’t knock hard enough? He usually hears and invites you in so this raises alarm bells instantly. You cautiously push the door open and enter his room.

“Lucanis? I hope it’s okay that I let myself in, I wanted to-.” You stop yourself as you examine the sly smile that has spread across his face, his eyes glowing that eery magenta and you know that it is not Lucanis. 

“Now we get to talk.” Spite hisses in your direction.

“We have nothing to talk about.” You say through gritted teeth. This has been a regular occurrence lately and it’s growing tiresome seeing someone you care so deeply about lose control of themselves. 

“Lucanis. Made a deal. He has not kept. Break our chains. Kill. Escape Prison. And Live. I want Lucanis to honour the deal! I WANT OUT! TELL HIM! MAKE HIM-.” A frustrated growl pours from his lips as you watch Lucanis’ body double over, he is fighting Spite… Lucanis is trying to regain control and to help you softly place your hand on his shoulder, hoping that it can be an actor for him to take hold of. 

“Rook? What happened? Did I- did he hurt you?” Shame fills Lucanis’ face as his gaze examines your body.

“Nothing happened, I’m okay.” You offer him a soft smile and gently squeeze his shoulder.

“How… how do you always do that? Break apart my perfectly gathered clouds of doom? You deserve better than to deal with my mess…” His brows furrow in frustration and his voice breaks ever so slightly. 

“You are more than what you’re going through… and besides, I like messes… well… I like your mess… you wear it well.” Your cheeks flush and you feel like a teenager struggling to form the right words as he approaches you. Lucanis leans his arm over you, gently pressing your body against the wall and a heat pools at your center. 

“This is not a good idea… you like to walk a little close to the edge.” His pitch lowers as his eyes lock in with yours, he is so close you can smell his scent of cinnamon and coffee beans.

“So do you…” you breathe out and place your hand delicately on his chest.

“At least I know I’m doing it, little Crow.” In a hushed, gravelly voice, he leans in further, and you can feel his breath against your lips. Your eyes close as a feather-light touch cascades across your jawline, and you tilt your head, trying to catch his mouth with yours, only to be met with him suddenly drawing away. Confusion and embarrassment settle in the pit of your stomach as you lock eyes with him 

“I… need to clear my head. Excuse me.” Luncanis pushes off the wall and offers you an apologetic smile as he exits his quarters, leaving you with confusion and a longing that aches to be held. 

As you enter your room and lay on your day bed, two little words flit across your mind. “Little crow” … a new heat ignites at your center as your hands gently caress their way around your body. You replay those two words over and over again as you fantasise where that moment could have taken you.

___________________________

Lucanis: 

“Mierda! What is wrong with me?!” You run your hands through your hair in frustration at your cowardice. She was right there… you were so close to tasting her lips, her scent still lingered as if it desperately clung to you, begging you to find her again. 

“You’re a coward, Lucanis. Deep down, you always were.” Spite’s words slither out menacingly and entangle around your thoughts. “You had her, and you ran. HAH” 

“Shut up, Spite! SHUT UP!” Rage fills your veins as you listen to his deception. He’s playing games with you, he always plays games with you, and it seems you always let him win. You did have her… maybe you still do. Fuck it. You think to yourself as you hastily make your way to her room, shoving Spite out of your thoughts as he attempts to sabotage your decision. After years in the Ossuary you have learnt how to shut him out when necessary even when you knew how much it angered him… but tonight, he was not going to win. 

As you reach her door, all etiquette fades amid your urgency as you burst through and take in the sight before you. She lays outstretched on her day bed, wearing nothing but her undergarments, which sends a surge straight to your throbbing core. Her cheeks are flushed as she abruptly sits up, staring at you with her mismatched blue and lavender eyes. 

“Rook… I’m sorry-.”

“Mia. Call me Mia.” She holds your stare and slowly pads across the concrete floor. Once she reaches you, her fingers lace themselves through your hair, and a shiver runs down your body. “Just tonight… then you don’t have to touch me ever again if you don’t want to.” You feel her warm breath against your ear as she gently pulls your face down towards her. 

“Little Crow… if I indulge tonight, I fear I may never want to be without you again…” Your right-hand tangles itself in her curls, and they are softer than you imagined. “Are you sure?” You whisper against her lips and as she nods slowly in response a low groan escapes you as you bring your mouths together. 

Your lips meld together, moving in synchronisation as if they had found their home. She tastes of a sweet hazelnut praline, and you inhale her scent, savouring each moment, searing it into your memories. Your free hand encircles the small of her back as you pull her in tightly against you, earning a small gasp from her as she feels your arousal through your clothing. 

Momentarily, you break free from her lips and watch her, taking in her beautiful form. She laces her fingers between yours, pulling you to her day bed and slowly lays herself down, never breaking eye contact. You tilt your head ever so slightly in curiosity, and then she seductively spreads her legs. Whatever willpower you had left crumbled at her unspoken invitation, and you found yourself crawling your way over her. Fuck willpower. You think to yourself as you scatter hot, wet kisses down her body and release her underwear with a swift flick of a hidden blade. 

Before you dive into her depths, you glance up and meet her gaze as she watches you, sending another ache to your throbbing cock. Without breaking eye contact, you take the plunge, gliding your tongue through her dripping wet folds, and you release a deep groan into her sex. She tastes better than any coffee you could ever make, and if you could swap for this to be your chosen beverage, you would do it in a heartbeat. As your pace quickens with urgency, you feel her legs begin to shake and suddenly her back arches as she shatters around your face, gripping your hair tightly as you slowly work through her waves of pleasure. 

You remove your clothes with haste and hold yourself up over her, taking in the small beads of sweat that have now settled over her brow and across her body. She once again spreads her legs on either side of you and tilts herself up as if she were just as desperate to feel you inside her. 

“So eager, my little crow… Are you ready? There’s no going back after this.” You bring your mouth to her ear as you rake your hardened length teasingly down her slick seam. 

“Yes. Please.” A low groan escapes her lips as she lifts her hips once more. 

Please… the word undoes your self-control, and you push into her immediately. “Fuck.” The word slips from your mouth as you begin to pump in and out of her, the feel of her naked body against yours sends electricity through you. Mia pulls your face towards hers and kisses you deeply. Her tongue slips past your lips and entangles itself in a dance with your own and you release a cry of pleasure at the intimate act. 

Your hand snakes its way down her body and lands on her swollen bud, sending a jolt of pleasure through her body as you tightly circle the sensitive flesh. 

“Lucanis… I’m... going to…” she pants through sharp breaths as you feel her body shaking beneath yours.

“Let go for me. Come for me, little crow; I want to hear my name on your lips.” Your pace quickens as you feel her walls tighten around your cock as she comes undone, sending you over the edge with her. 

You collapse beside her and pull her close, stroking her hair as she leans her head against your heaving chest. A calm settles in the cool air as you lay there with her, and for the first time in what seems like forever, you feel at peace. 

“Peace, for now, Lucanis. You cannot shut me out forever. We still have a deal, and if you do not hold your end of the bargain, Rook will be in danger.” Spite’s voice distantly echoes in the back of your mind, and you pull Mia closer to you, silently vowing to find a way to make this work. 

[comatosecringedotcom]

guys if you wanna send in asks for gone boy. .. i wouldn’t stop you.…

[maskmascot]

i just come and wonder why no one talk about them at all like...

slime lesbian that’s forgotten her first bond love.

anyway *hand* want some my random headcanon?

[roboyomo]

about to go sleepyy but. Insane Kenix Thoughts (Again! An Another Time!) (How Many Fucking Times!— ^_^)

Something about Kenix comforting Sora the day she joined the sins crew while she was full on crying and confused at everything surrounding her. Something about him Resonating with a child's helplessness, offer a warm embrace to hold onto. Did you see your own past self in that girl? The days where you were left all alone in the dark, being able to only weep and wonder why everything around you was like this. Yet you had no one's shoulder to cry onto. You had no one by your side, and now you have decided to be that someone for an another lost kid. Have you seen your own desperation in that child, wanting to help her because deep down you know how scarring this situation is for her? To seek comfort despite the unknown environment, because you wanted someone to let you know it is safe?

Have you wanted to save someone from what you had to endure yourself because you just knew how deeply terrifying it must all be to experience such loneliness at a young age? Have you just wanted to not let someone else go through what you had to? Have you just wanted to show the lost child that compassion that you didn't get yourself when you needed it the most.

[stoneshipper]

kent and I's four year (!!!) anniversary is on the 28th. i need to replay all the amnesia games for him by then

[running-in-the-dark]

today was exhausting - my friend was here for about 7 hours and I just. oh man I love her and all but it's just a lot sometimes. it's probably for the best that we only meet up like 2-4 times a year now (gives me enough time to forget how draining it is so I look forward to it, and recover afterwards)

I don't talk to anyone but my husband most days, and he doesn't really talk. so that's maybe 15 minutes total of talking. and today it was literally. 7 hours. no breaks except when we were eating (but no even then someone was always talking).

first of all ouch, it hurts (my voice is very hoarse now). and also. it's so so so draining. like. we really have nothing in common at this point. but she's my oldest friend and I do love her so it's tolerable... but just barely. these days there's way too much diet/food/weight loss talk, and also she seems to be getting into alternative medicine which I cannot fucking stand (it's one topic where I can't pretend or be nice about it either). lots and lots of very preachy vegan stuff too (I don't have any problems with it, I admire people who can do it, but fuck dude you know I eat meat and that I've said many times that I *can't* go vegan (I would starve. there's not enough foods that would be left. seriously.) and it feels pretty shitty to keep going on about it every damn time. I'm not sitting there trying to convince her that she should really be an atheist or something, because I know what her thoughts are about that and I respect it.

when she hangs out with her other friends a lot it's mostly just talking about all the issues that come from that (they fucking suck). I don't know, it kind of feels like I'm her therapist. when I talk about something I'm interested in she doesn't ask many questions and it kind of sucks. like, dude I don't care about your plants either, but I'm interested because you care, so. maybe try that too. would be nice!

[krysmcscience]

At long last: either an alternate explanation for or continuation of my prior comic regarding how Bill was ABSOLUTELY naked in Ford's karaoke night drawing. (Because errors in art do not exist. Artists do not make mistakes. So if you see any in this comic, No You Do Not.)

I am so normal about these old dorks.

I'm not really clear on exactly when Bill started throwing his desperation book at Ford just like a needy ex do, but I find it extremely funny to imagine it happening literally the day of or after the makeshift funeral. Bill just gets this weird sense of 'Ford is taking steps to move on' and CANNOT FUCKING ABIDE.

I hope you enjoy all the goofy things I added to each page of Bill's sad spieling. (Everything SHOULD be readable so long as you view the full size, but I have added basically this whole little fanfic in the image descriptions, LMAO, which lays out all the little written notes and such.) Also don't ask how Bill managed to sneak that vampire pen in there. I have no idea, and honestly? I don't wanna know.

Oh, and a little bonus comic:

Of course Bill would take it as flirting. Because between the two of them, Bill is the bigger masochist By Far. :)

Also I have continued applying The Good Place logic to any of Bill's attempts to swear. Case in point, one last bonus image, this time with a motivational line from my slapdash Theraprism OC, EV-01:

Yes, its name is just 'love' backwards. No, I will not be taking any feedback on this. Yes, EV-01 was only ever assigned to Bill's case due to the Theraprism being desperate to make some progress in rehabilitating him. No, it did not work anywhere close to staff's expectations - Bill didn't even appreciate EV-01's matching fondness for bowties! (He claimed the fondness to be "cultural appropriation" and insisted he'd been traumatized by it.)

Anyway, if you like my stuff, reblogs are very much appreciated, and if you really really like it, perhaps consider my commissions or yeeting a teeny tiny tip my way? I am trying to recoup over 500 dollars in vet bills, ahaha... 🙃

In other news, I loved all the fun tags people added to the prior naked-karaoke comic (such as 'the hat and bow-tie stay ON during sex' and the classic '[insert keysmash here]', as well as the many amused/bewildered remarks about how I either made the bricks a piece of clothing or just straight up peeled Bill's skin off). However, I think my favorite thing by far was the several people losing their shit over the fact that I gave Bill toes. Like, excuse me? The magical talking triangle can have fingers but not toes??? Since when was that a rule????? 🤣 (Also the one person who reblogged with the cropped panel where Bill's fishnets pants are falling off to ask why Bill peed himself. Dude, I want to examine your brain...?)

Okie-dokie, I'm sick of looking at all of this stuff now and I'm off to go to work, after which I will either scribble some more goofy "Billford" comics or perhaps draw my lame human!Bill in Situations, idk yet. Maybe I'll even finally draw more than just a single other person's human!Bill...? Who knows, but I sure hope I can mix it up a little and not turn whatever I draw into a month-long fukken project. >:\

[shotmrmiller]

pornstar au

f!reader x simon 'ghost' riley

3.7k words (sorry)

tw: teacher-student relationship but it's just a scene for porn. explicit. horrifyingly so.

You burst into the classroom and stride purposefully towards your professor, who is seated in his leather chair, engrossed in his work. Impatiently tapping your foot, you waited for him to finish marking essays. However, after 5 minutes, your patience with this unbearable man ran out.

"Professor."

He hums, a deep sound coming from the back of his throat yet doesn't look up from what he's doing. A real piece of work, he is. How fucking aggravating.

"Professor Riley," your voice takes an irreverent tone.

The hand that had been writing non-stop comes to a sudden pause, and he finally directs his attention to you. Meeting your gaze, his dark eyes are hooded, his lips set in a firm line. His job is to literally deal with students, yet he dares to look annoyed.

"Are you gonna tell me what's wrong 'r am I gonna have to learn how to read minds?" he states.

Taking in a calming breath, you clench the crumpled essay in your hand. "Can you explain to me why you failed me on this? I did exactly as you asked!"

He must know precisely what you're talking about because he simply turns back to the papers on his desk.

"Tha's your problem. You did exactly as I asked, with no thought behind it. Just wrote the bare minimum, if you can even call it writin'. It's copy-paste," Professor Riley sets the pen down and leans back in the chair.

"I need ya to use tha' head o' yours when in this class. Otherwise, you'll fail the rest o' your classes too."

Fucking hell.

Professor Riley shifts in his seat, seemingly done with the conversation, and finishes, "If tha's all."

Shit. Your pause is too long, and the director calls it. Fuck.

"I'm really sorry, Ghost, I didn't mean-" Your words of apology dissolve into thin air as his strong hand finds its place on your hip— giving it a gentle, but firm squeeze.

"S'all righ', love. Mistakes happen. Matter fact," his eyes drift from you to behind you to beckon someone with two fingers. "C'mere, you."

It's the set assistant, and he's brought the script with him. Ghost swiftly stops him from handing it to you, instead pushing it onto the assistant's chest. "Won't be needin' tha', thanks. Tell the director tha' we'll be ad-libin'. Now sod off."

The assistant follows his command in haste, scurrying off to follow Ghost's instructions.

"Hey," he murmurs. Your eyes meet his, feeling the intensity of it quickens your heartbeat. "Say whatever you like, just remember to follow the storyline, alright?"

Follow the storyline. In porn. The irony isn't lost on you, but you bite the side of your gummy cheek to keep from laughing. "Yes, sir."

He drops his hand from where he held you slowly, seemingly almost reluctant to let go. "Ready?" Ghost's thin lips curl into a smirk when you nod at his question. "Good girl."

Your fingers tightly grip the flimsy material of your uniform skirt at his praise, and warmth pools in your lower belly.

His good girl.

A high-pitched voice cuts through your thoughts, signaling the restart of the shooting. You exhale a long breath, unclenching your hands in the process.

Action.

"If tha' all." Ghost reaches for his pen when you frantically grab onto his Oxford sleeve.

"Wait, Professor, please! I can't," you stammer, "I cannot fail this class! My parents would kill me if I studied abroad only to flunk. The tuition—"

His tone is authoritative as he abruptly cuts off your lengthy excuse. "Enough. Nothing can change the mark I've given you."

Your ears pricked up at his wording, and the corners of your lips pulled up into a roguish smile. "No?" Ghost stills before turning to face you, countenance blank. "Nothing at all, Professor?" With a coy tilt of your head, your wide, doe-like eyes meet his as your fingertips trace an alluring path from his forearm down to his knuckles.

"I really can't convince you in any way to change that grade for me?" You lean on the edge of his wooden desk— skirt so short it doesn't even graze the surface of it— and lightly curl your hand around his pointer finger. "It can be our little secret, Professor Riley," you purr.

Ghost lifts a single brow, and settles back into his seat, arms crossed over his barrel chest as his eyes travel from your feet to your exposed cleavage, fixating on the soft skin peeking out from your uniform top.

"Please?" his hushed voice reverberates inside your skull. "I promise to be a good girl."

That catches his attention, eyes flashing to yours, the fire behind them hot— you hope it burns you.

"'Sat, right? Tha' changes things now, doesn't it?" Ghost rolls his chair back, away from his desk, and spreads his thick legs apart in invitation, arms resting on the rests— the dictionary definition of casual. "Convince me then, pet."

"Yes, sir." Sauntering to stand in between his legs, you swallow thickly— the bulge in his groin was quite frankly, intimidating. You've had large, but this was in a league of its own.

"You gonna do it from up there? I know I'm bigger than average but not tha' big." A huff escapes from your lips. A whole comedian.

Knees pressed into the cold, tile floor, you expertly undo the button of his trousers and with his help, pulled them down along with his pants— just enough for his cock to spring free.

Bloody fucking hell.

His cock is monstrous. It rested against his belly, heavy and thick. The pink tip slightly peeking from under his foreskin. There was a groomed thatch of coarse hair at the base, and his balls were also heavy— one hanging lower than the other.

Ghost leans forward and cradles the underside of your jaw with one large hand, fingers gently caressing the delicate skin of your cheek, while the other pumps his rigid cock in anticipation. "Not scared, are ya?" His grin was wicked. "I promise it don't bite."

Grabbing his wrist, you maneuver his hand so that his thumb now rests on your soft lips. "Might not, but I do, Professor." And catch the tip of his finger between your blunt teeth, the subtle sting of it making him hiss.

"Perfect, pretty girl," he says, almost inaudible. His words of praise are for you alone— not for the scene, nor the camera. You peer up at him through your lashes, mewling softly at the expression on his face.

His brow was set, hooded eyes sultry, a rosy hue across his cheeks and nose, and lips parted as he panted quietly.

Delicious.

Ghost then pushes his thumb further into your slick mouth and hooks it behind your bottom teeth, delicately pulling you closer to him as he tips his head down— taking his thumb out with a pop. His warm breath fans across your face as he moves closer until his lips connect with yours. He slid his tongue into your mouth, tasting of frosty mint and his own unique taste.

Your hands come up, fingers digging into the meat of his thighs when he grasps your wrist and moves it to the focal point of his desire— his breath hitching when you give his cock a firm squeeze. Ghost bites your bottom lip before breaking away, a guttural noise escaping him when you begin to stroke him. "Tighten your hand around—" he breaks off, moaning against your kiss-swollen lips when you comply.

He threads his fingers through your hair that sits at the base of your skull, curling them into a fist and tugging back— craning your neck, hair pulled taut.

"So obedient. Jus' f'me, love?" you hum cheekily, a mischievous grin spreading across your face.

"Would you hold it against me if I said no?" he chuckles under his breath, the grip on your hair tightening marginally.

"I'd say tha' you're lyin'." He sucks in a breath when you press down lightly onto his slit with your thumb. "Cheeky."

He loosens the hold he has on you, feeling your scalp prickle with tender relief, and relaxes back into the chair. "All yours, sweetheart."

That light wasn't getting any greener, so with a grunt, you shifted your weight, ignoring your aching knees, and wrapped your lips around his cock.

Barely.

The salty bite of his arousal and musk spread on your tongue as you took him in deep, stilling once he hit the back of your throat.

"Fuck, look at me."

Slightly tipping your head back, you do as he says, your throat closing around him as he slips in even further.

"Fuckfuckfuck," a hiss, "such a hot little mouth, just swallowin' me righ' up." Your lungs burn with the lack of oxygen, forcing you to pull back to gasp for air. Ghost squeezes himself at the base and taps your cheek with his saliva-coated length.

"A dirty slag like you, jus' takin' me like a professional. Tha' what you are? A professional cock sucker, love?" he taunts. Your pussy clenches when he calls you a slag, pressing your thighs together in the hope of some friction; Something to alleviate the throbbing ache in between your legs.

Ghost with eyes as keen as ever, notices. Damn.

"Oh? Little harlot likes to get degraded, does she? Reminded of her place? How I'd love to teach you exactly where you belong, but tha' wouldn't be you convincin' me to change your bad grade, now would it?"

His cock taps on your swollen lips. "Another time, hm? Now open. Make me see reason."

Ghost's wish is your command. With enthusiasm, you take him in your mouth, slowly bobbing your head, place a hand right under your lips, and twist with every push and pull.

It's sloppy, spit covering your hand, dripping down to his balls. Your jaw aches, a burning pressure a little under your ear, but what gives you the strength to continue is the loud moans coming from Ghost. He holds nothing back, his hand engulfing the crown of your head while he gently pushes you down. A performer down to his very bones.

You were about to pause the recording, the pain in your mandible and knees almost becoming too much when he suddenly pulled you off of him.

"Wha—?" Ghost seizes you by the upper arms, forcibly bringing you to your feet, disregarding your pained whimper, and places you on the sturdy desk.

He's curling his fingers into the waistband of your frilly knickers, slipping them down your legs and pocketing them. There's a quiet popping sound when he bends his knees, going eye level with your bare cunt.

In a hushed tone, you say, "This isn't part of the scene." Ghost drags his eyes from your glistening slit to your face, gaze suffocating, smothering the very air in your lungs.

"Just a taste, love." He curls one hand under your thigh, lifting it to perch it on the edge of the desk, the other he throws over his strong shoulder. The only sound in the room is your soft moans as he expertly slides his warm tongue through your slick folds, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

By god does he eat pussy like it's his job. Peering down at him, you can't stop the sounds that spill from your mouth when his tongue visibly splits your pussy lips open, flicking at your clit, lapping up your arousal like it is honey. You take hold of his short hair, tugging at the strands as each swirl of his talented tongue pushes you closer to your peak.

His eyes cut to yours when he presses a thick finger into you, drinking in your desperate expression as you keen, begging for more, blabbering about it being so good, yet not enough, please god more.

Ghost curls his finger, only taking a second to find your sweet spot, and pushes— bursts of light flashing in your peripheral vision. You begin to rock your hips unconsciously, chasing your ecstasy, and Ghost simply flattens his tongue, letting you grind against it.

You teeter on the edge of bliss, a tightening in your stomach, right under where his finger is. Shaky exhales leave you, the leg that's on the desk visibly trembling from the tension that threatens to snap you in half.

He presses a kiss to your sodden pussy, and croons, "Gonna come f'me?" You jerkily nod.

"Yes fuck yes, I'm gonna come for you, just for you, Professor Riley pleaseee—" your blathering turns into a high-pitched squeal as he lightly sucks on your pearl, hips lifting off the desk as a blinding orgasm crashes into you, pleasure bursting through your very core, cunt pulsating with every wave of ecstasy around Ghost's finger.

He wastes no time in rising to his feet and slotting his mouth over yours, the taste of your slick strong, potent on his tongue. Ghost breaks away, his breath smelling of your desire. "Exquisite, like ambrosia. Addicting."

Ghost's hand cups your sensitive quim and whispers, "Think you can take me? Tha' orgasm took a lot outta ya."

Silly question. "I'm a big girl, Ghost. I can take it."

He licks the front of his teeth and glances down to where his hand rests. "Course you can, love. Turn around f'me."

Your movements are sluggish as you turn over onto your stomach, rising to the tip of your toes as you present yourself to him.

Ghost grabs the sides of your waist, and flips your skirt up, tucking the edge into the waistband of it. His hands palm your cheeks, thumbs digging into the meat of your ass to spread you open, completely exposed to him.

"Fuck me if tha' isn't the prettiest sight I've ever had the pleasure of seein'." He doesn't acknowledge your scoff as he spreads your hands out, placing them flat on the table— enveloping your hand with his own, intertwining his fingers with yours.

His leans over your semi-prone body, cock gently prodding at your entrance, gliding easily through your folds. "Ready?"

Arching your back, his tip slips inside, just barely. That's your answer.

You can hear the smarmy grin that spreads on his face, and wanted to snark back but you're rendered mute when he pushes in. Your eyes cross at the stretch of his cock, a feeling so sublime you know that no one will ever be able to duplicate. Your fingers tighten around his as you mewl when he bottoms out, hips flush against your arse.

Ghost sucks in a breath through his teeth when you shift your weight, and whatever you did has him sliding in deeper— turning his hiss into a guttural groan. "Fuck, you have no fuckin' idea how good you feel."

Probably not, but you have every idea how good he feels.

"You okay, love? Took me so well like you were made jus' f'me. So warm and soft, tight like a vice around my cock. Pretty pussy split wide open, stuffed full of me." He speaks unfettered filth to you, dripping over your ears like molasses, thick and syrupy. Your head feels heavy on your shoulders— dizzy, drunk on his scent, his cock that's got you tearing at the seams.

Then he begins to move, pulling out until an inch remains inside, and pushing in until he's nudging the plug of your womb, feeling a deep pinch under your navel.

This is what it's like to get fucked by Ghost. The one everyone covets after, hoping he drags down the very heavens with his bare hands and lays it at their feet. And here he is, fucking you. A newbie, a fresh face no one knows yet, a name that'll probably never grace the front page.

You doubt his motives are altruistic, but goddamn does it not matter; Not with the way he's carving a space inside of you that only he will ever fit in, or the way he's curling his free hand around your neck, thumb pressed right over your racing pulse.

He lowers himself until his strong chest is to your back, his teeth nipping the tip of your ear. "The moment I saw you gettin' fucked by Johnny, I knew I had t'have ya." Your walls clamp down on him involuntarily, wrenching a pained noise from him. "Fuckin' hell, I knew this pussy would be magical."

Ghost's lips skim over the shell of your ear before pressing a chaste kiss on it. "Lemme hear how good I make ya feel, pet. Don't hold back on me now." He grinds into your arse, going in so deep that it feels like he's trying to push past the entrance of your womb. "S'alrigh'. I'll jus' have t'pull 'em outta ya."

He releases you, placing both hands flat on the desk, on either side of your shoulders. "Take em for myself, make 'em mine." Straightening all the way, he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your waist.

"What a view. Perfection." He rolls his hips, rhythm languid, loud squelching noises coming from where he fills you. "Drippin' cream all over my cock, pet. Can't tell me this isn't 'cause of me."

How the fuck can he still talk? How is he coherent? Why isn't his brain turned into mush like yours is?

"Fuckin' ya speechless, am I? Oh, sweetheart, but I'm barely gettin' started." Ghost slowly pulls out, and curls his hand around your shoulder, nudging you to turn over. "On your back, now."

You lazily flip over, hair sticking to your sweat-slick skin, and he hooks his arms underneath your legs and drags you to the edge until your arse hangs from it. "I wanna see that pretty face when you come." He wastes no time in sheathing himself back inside your swollen channel, walls fluttering at the invasion.

Ghost hooks one leg over his shoulder to lean forward, pinning you to the desk with his upper body, and maneuvers your other to wrap around his wide waist. "That cock drunk look on your face makes my balls tighten, what a fuckin' expression you've got, christ," he growls. "Knowin' I put it there makes it all the better."

He gives you a chaste kiss on the lips and gives you a smile that is all teeth. "Now let's make you sing."

Grunting, he straightens. plants his feet firmly, stance wide, and begins to fuck you. The videos of the famed Ghost you saw are nothing, nothing, in comparison to real life. His full weight is behind every spine-jarring thrust, it makes your teeth clack, it rattles your brain inside your skull. He does it so perfectly because at no point do you feel any discomfort, not even a twinge. It's all a pleasure that blazes, an all-encompassing heat that threatens to swallow you whole, burn you from the inside out.

His cock punches the breath out of your lungs, wails clawing out of your throat, and it's so good, so fucking good— god, maybe he is god, you don't know, everything is so blurry, hazy—

All senses focus on the sudden touch between your legs, an expert thumb drawing tight circles on your slippery clit and there's no way you're going to survive this—

"There she is, the girl I saw in the video. Tha's an expression I see in myfuckin' sleep. Give me what's mine, pet. Let me feel you, cream all over my cock."

He's relentless in his pursuit of your climax, a wave of pleasure so intense, it just might drag you out to sea, drowning you.

Ghost, the fucking god of sex, stops his ministrations to spit on your pussy. Spit. From his full height, a glob of warm saliva drops to your mons, and he smears it with his fingers over your pussy lips before rubbing your clit. His thrusts slow in pace, turning into a firm snap of his hips, making sure you feel every ridge of his cock, and in less than a minute, your spine arches off the desk.

Your mouth opens into a silent scream, lids snapping shut as you break underneath him, warmth gushing from where he's continuously sinking into you, a steady, slow rhythm that never ends.

"Came all over me, didn't ya? Bet you didn't know you could even do tha'."

You didn't.

"Jus' for tha', I'm gonna give you somethin' in return, yeah? A little reward for bein' so good," he praises.

Your tongue is heavy in your mouth, swollen and thick, and unconsciousness creeps at the very edges of your mind.

All you can do is lie there and take it, his sloppy thrusts, his harsh panting until he moans, "'m close, so fuckin' close," and with whatever remnants of strength you have left, you use to squeeze him tightly— unwilling to let go because his come is yours now, you've earned it.

"Come in me, Ghost," you whimper.

That does it. He slams his hands on either side of your head and borderline roars out his release, cock twitching inside of your used cunt, filling you with his spend.

Cut.

Ghost's breathing is labored, a harsh pant that fans over your overheated skin, damp with sweat.

His brows are furrowed, his eyes squeezed shut, gulping in air and shivering in the aftershock of his climax.

To be fucked by Ghost is to see the Garden of Eden behind your eyelids.

Now you understand. You understand why he has no equal. He is unparalleled.

Jesus Christ, you're fucked. So, so fucked.

He slowly opens his eyes and peers down at you with a wolfish grin.

"Perfection."

--

A week later, your video with Ghost is the most viewed on the entire website. Not one other video even scratches the bottom of where your video sits.

Ghost truly is the king.

Curiously enough, your friend is the one who lets you know that Mr. life-altering cock himself never kisses during work. Not once in any video of his has he ever kissed, apart from a short pressing of lips to skin.

Your heart traitorously flutters at the thought of it meaning something more. Catching feelings when you get fucked for a living is not the move. But there's no stopping it from misbehaving, especially when you receive another script, to make another video with Ghost.

Another. one.

Fuck. Fuck!!

You cannot wait.

@mishaglass

[astonmartinii]

cutie patooties | max verstappen social media au

pairing: max verstappen x fem leclerc!reader

just them terrorising the world with their cuteness (and collecting the younger drivers)

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR | SMALL BUSINESS

yourusername

liked by arthurleclerc, maxverstappen1 and 1,209,455 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: he loves redline more than me 🙄

view all comments

user1: obsessed with how she's like "oh you wanna ship max with my brother" and then takes lestappen out back and shoots them

user2: as she should, she's the cutest leclerc by far

yourusername: true 😙

maxverstappen1: double true 😘

charles_leclerc: die.

yourusername: erm consider your ass REPORTED THIS IS HARASSMENT

maxverstappen1: did you just threaten my girlfriend ????

charles_leclerc: and what?

maxverstappen1: pull up, i'm outside

charles_leclerc: ???? leave ????

maxverstappen1: no i'm deadass don't disrespect my gf 😤😤😤

charles_leclerc: it's my SISTER

yourusername: when he's protective 😛😛😛

user3: screaming, crying, throwing up over the keychain

user4: i need someone *cough, cough* them to recreate it 🥸

landonorris: YOU WENT TO THE LEGO STORE WITHOUT ME? YOUR FAVOURITE CHILD?

yourusername: watch your tone

maxverstappen1: god forbid i want to spend time with my GIRLFRIEND on a DATE

landonorris: that's not a valid excuse

yourusername: also bold of you to assume you're our favourite child when oscar, yuki and logan are right there

oscarpiastri: snooze you lose lando

yukitsunoda0511: suck on that lando

logansargent: i'm just happy to be included

landonorris: damn...

maxverstappen1

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo and 1,203,513 others

tagged: charles_leclerc & yourusername

maxverstappen1: spent the weekend bothering my girlfriend's brother, what about you?

view all comments

user9: the way charles put his ferrari cap on y/n only for max to throw it into the crowd and put his own on her head instead

user10: those who know max's attachment to his caps, this is big.

yourusername: winning looks so sexy oh my

maxverstappen1: blushing like a motherfucker

yourusername: skip the debrief? they won't notice?

maxverstappen1: i think they might notice the driver of the race they're analysing not being there

yourusername: show them the pic i just sent you, they can't say no to my puppy dog eyes

maxverstappen1: helmut said fuck off 💔

yourusername: tell him i have a present for him (it's a pack of salt and vinegar crisps and a pamphlet for caskets)

user11: @yourusername winning IS sexy, tell your bf to tell charles win

yourusername: if charles wins it's suddenly decidedly unsexy, this isn't game of thrones babe

charles_leclerc: you ARE annoying that's right

maxverstappen1: annoyingly sexy

charles_leclerc: no comment, we're going to be family at some point soon

maxverstappen1: DAMN RIGHT WE ARE

yourusername: if you think we're annoying now, oh boy.

user12: i need max and y/n to be engaged right this fucking moment

user13: i think it would actually make my year

user14: after the championship win queen @maxverstappen1 ?

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, oscarpiastri and 1,562,044 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: @ the person who asked how much max weighs... god will deal with you

view all comments

user15: i'm obsessed with how obsessed they are with each other

user16: is max's wardrobe all red bull merch and t-shirts dedicated to y/n?

maxverstappen1: yes 😌

danielricciardo: i saw the clip... the time stamp was 3am - we RACE TODAY?

yourusername: i am happy to support my man's hobby

danielricciardo: yes but you also don't have to race with that man on three hours of sleep

yourusername: be real daniel, the only time you'll be close to max is when he laps you xxx

danielricciardo: EXCUSE ME??? MAX YOU GONNA LET YOUR GIRLFRIEND TALK TO YOUR FIRST LOVE LIKE THAT?

maxverstappen1: bold of you to assume you were my first love

danielricciardo: did on the couch mean nothing to you?

maxverstappen1: soz buddy this is a childhood friends to lovers narrative right now (and we were already together by the time i was at red bull)

charles_leclerc: WHAT?

yourusername: spare me the dramatics, you guys were deep in the ANGST and then austria happened so really it's your own fault that it took as long as it did

user17: one comment section where the girls aren't fighting? impossible.

oscarpiastri: omg the shirts look so good y/n !!

yourusername: we're ✨graphic designers✨

maxverstappen1: does having a dashingly handsome model help

yourusername: of course !!!!!

oscarpiastri: i'm not going to answer that question

maxverstappen1: :(

oscarpiastri: on another thought - yes!

yourusername: @landonorris this is why he's one of the favourites

landonorris: i'm not talking to yall

maxverstappen1

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, yourusername and 1,309,556 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: weekend off racing means shenanigans and late night streaming

view all comments

user20: i know whatever poor soul went for dinner with them hated every second

yukitsunoda0511: working on being the favourite of the favourite children 🫡 and they paid for my meal at a really cool italian restaurant

oscarpiastri: game on

yourusername: so who is the lady and who is the tramp?

danielricciardo: THAT'S A TRICK QUESTION MAX DON'T ANSWER IT

maxverstappen1: you're not a lady... you're a queen 😘

yourusername: did you just fail the test, successfully?

danielricciardo: you smooth motherfucker

yourusername: stole your red bull drive and your nickname @carlossainz55

carlossainz55: why am i catching strays?

yourusername: bored ❤️

user21: y/n really be like "oh the season's boring cause my bf wins everything? let me make it interesting by shading every driver on the grid"

maxverstappen1: do NOT give her a challenge

charles_leclerc: can you PLEASE stop taking such lovey dovey gross ass photos maman keeps getting them printed and I AM GETTING MOVED OFF OF THE MANTEL PIECE I AM ON THE BOOKSHELF, THIS FACE IS A MANTEL PIECE FACE NOT A BOOKSHELF FACE

yourusername: not reading all of that, i'm happy for you or sad that happened x

charles_leclerc: MAX DO SOMETHNG

maxverstappen1: step your pussy up bro

yourusername: when he catches your lingo >>

charles_leclerc: i am a VICTIM

yourusername

liked by arthurleclerc, landonorris and 1,450,387 others

tagged: maxverstappen1 & charles_leclerc

yourusername: invented babygirlism actually

view all comments

user22: y/n is so real for choosing a cute recent photo for herself and then just violating the guys

user23: she's funny as fuck for that

charles_leclerc: finally some fucking credit

yourusername: not everything can be about you all of the time 🤨

charles_leclerc: don't make me an ankle-biter again you're PUSHING ME

sebastianvettel: knew you were an ankle biter

yourusername: LOL

charles_leclerc: no seb no! i didn't bite ankles, just y/n's and that doesn't count

user24: what the fuck is going on here

maxverstappen1: you are the most babygirl to ever babygirl

danielricciardo: i think i had a stroke reading that

yourusername: awwwww you're so cute maxy

maxverstappen1: knew you were the one for me when we first met karting, you taught me the babygirl ways

yourusername: and you're delivering

oscarpiastri: you guys can't see but he's blushing so bad right now

landonorris: are you just attached to them

yourusername: yes he is, a babygirl in training

user25: how do i get adopted by y/n and max?

maxverstappen1: no but for real i love you, even if we are lumbered with your brother

yourusername: i love you too xxx

charles_leclerc: *brothers

maxverstappen1: nope arthur and lorenzo are sound

charles_leclerc: fUCK OFF :(((((((

FIN.

note: heyyyyyy you guysssss! we all know i have a soft spot for these two (plus oscar and alex) so i wanted to put out a little thing to celebrate 5k! thank you so much for following and reading my work, hope you enjoyed xx

[totallynotcensorship]

tags update: rafah is 8th on trending

edit: it is now at 7th

FOR CONTEXT:

israel has launched an invasion and heavy bombing of rafah(a.k.a the "safe zone" 1.7 million Palestinians were forced into) after the UN approved a ceasefire resolution for the rest of ramadan... all 2 weeks of it. results were 14 votes for YESes. 0 NOs. and 1 didn't vote(take a guess who it was) the resolution called for an unconditional release of all hostages on both sides. so yes, mr "i am totally just doing this to get my hostages back whom i totally care about and totally didn't kill" Israel is launching harder attacks even after being promised all hostages release. just in case anyone was still questioning if Israel was using hostages as just an excuse for colonialism

russia tried to turn it into a permanent ceasefire but the US vetoed it. i guess vetoing a ceasefire looks less bad when russia is the one proposing it

DON'T STOP TALKING ABOUT PALESTINE

[backinmyphase]

Not your husband

Summary: You are going to marry the Satoru Gojo. A dream come true right? Well when he doesn't even show up to the meetings to arrange your marriage, it becomes clear that it's more a nightmare.

Or: Satoru Gojo doesn't even know how attached he will grow to his wife yet.

Pairing: Gojo x reader, 3040 words

Next part Masterlist

Sane Geto AU (I am an Angst writer, but not like Gege. Please excuse any errors in my writing)

The world of Jujutsu was never a world for you.

Born into a clan, which only saw your value in your technique. Born into a family, which only saw your mistakes. Born from a mother, who had the same problems but still resented you.

Born into a world full of curses but still being told you were the biggest of all.

"Don't daydream, you will make a bad impression. And you really can't afford that."

The woman in front of you isn't pleased. She isn't since she knew she wouldn't give life to boy.

It's hard as woman in a Jujutsu clan.

It's not about how your technique can help you, it's about how your technique could help your son at exorcising curses.

"Yes, mother."

She frowns as she looks at you. Displeased she fixes her posture a bit, signaling you to do the same. You obey.

"You can't afford to make any mistakes today. Just do as I told you. I can only hope you have learned anything."

As you nod you realize what all this means. The dress kimono you are wearing. The expensive tea that is ready to serve. The hairpin you have gotten from your mother, who did your hair today.

All of it becomes so real.

Your husband has been decided.

"You won't say anything, until you are being asked." The woman hissed. "And please keep a smile on your boring face, then it at least looks not so simple."

You never discovered your technique and what you could do with it. It wasn't easy. Knowing that everything you did would result in you being married of.

And as you sat here in this big room with your mother, you could only wonder.

Who would your husband be? Could it be someone who understood you?

Someone you could love?

As the door opened you saw your father who looked onto the ground as he spoke.

"They are here."

Your mother only nodded, as your father closed the door. Just a few minutes later the door was opened again.

And a beautiful woman stepped inside.

She smiled at your mother as she took a seat in front of her. But the smile was the same as the smile of your mother. And maybe the same of your own.

As she sat down on the opposite side, you served the tea. The best tea your clan could afford.

For a man that didn't seem to have come.

The woman gave an apologetic smile. "My sincere apologies, but my son... Well he is in a bit of a rebellious phase, which lead of him disappearing before this meeting."

Your mother's smile faded a bit. "Does he know of what importance this meeting is for our clans?"

The woman laughed. "Oh, he knows." She slightly eyed you before she spoke again. "He just doesn't care."

Silence flodded the room. It was like a cold hand slidded down your back as you realized.

"I hope the Gojo Clan will show more interest in our connection. We will be very disappointed if not." The smile of your mother was just as cold as the hand that seemed to choke you.

This was Mrs. Gojo. The mother of the strongest.

Gojo Satoru.

The one who seemingly stood above anyone. The one who jumped at every opportunity to mess with the higher ups.

Who will be your husband.

And he didn't even show up to meet you.

"Of course. He will learn." The woman sighed as she spared you a glance again. Then she smiled that smile again.

And you mirrored it.

"Your future husband isn't the easiest person." The woman sighed as she looked at you. "Even as a baby he knew what he wanted and how to get it."

Not knowing how to react you just nodded.

The woman laughed at that. "But no worries! Even though he is... Difficult, you will love him. He has that effect on people."

Your mouth dried up at the mention of love. How could this woman talk about love at the table your arranged marriage would be discussed? How could she talk about love when you didn't even have a saying in this arrangement? How, when you will marry the strongest?

Satoru Gojo?

"I really hope that he will learn." Your mother smiled while taking a sip from her tea. "He should know that his actions are what keep the Gojo Clan still important. He shouldn't throw that away."

The tension grew a lot, as Mrs. Gojo mirrored the smile and took a sip of the tea. "Well at least I brought him to our Clan. In the end that's the biggest thing a woman could achieve right?"

It was sick. We lived in modern times, but the Jujutsu Society was still so far behind, floating under the radar, with the excuse of making the world a better place.

"It's true." Your mother sighed as she lowered her cup. "The strongest really is the biggest achievement you could have ever accomplished. Being the parent of such a child... But I wonder..."

Your mother now didn't even try to hide her distain. "Why does his mother not have him under control?"

Klirrr

"Because." Mrs. Gojo's hand shook as it held the broken cup. The sharp shards cutting into it. "As a boy, he can have this freedom."

The black tea in your cup grew cold as long with the atmosphere in the room. Your mother stood up and left the room without a word. Her steps filled the silence in the room. And as she closed the door the woman in front of you sighed.

"Difficult woman, isn't she?" Mrs. Gojo let go of the cup shards while hissing. Her mask no longer in tact as she didn't smile anymore.

"Well who isn't?"

She looked at you surprised and then chuckled. "I guess you are right."

On the same day the arrangement was consolidated. It was official.

You will marry Satoru Gojo.

~~

"Suguru, how could this happen? To me?" Satoru whined as he complained to his best friend. "It all has to be a bad joke, right?"

"No, it sounds like a normal thing in jujutsu clans. I'm just confused why you didn't have any saying. You know, as the strongest." Suguru didn't look up from his book as his best friend groaned.

"That's what I'm saying! I don't give a damn about this whole clan thing."

As they were sitting in the park near their mission, they of course already finished not even breaking a sweat, the sun slowly set.

"It is a really bad system. How the clans only strive after power and never consider the lives of their toles." Suguru muttered as he turned the page.

"And now I have to marry a random girl I don't even know!" Satoru groaned again and buried his face in his hands.

"And she has to marry you." Suguru sighed.

Satoru looked at him slightly annoyed. "What do you want to say? Just say it."

"Well, I am sure, she is just as horrified as you at the sound of marriage. I'm just saying you could at least try to get to know her."

"I'm not going there." Stubbornly Satoru shook his head. "Never. I'm not giving them that satisfaction."

Suguru looked up at his friend and now he shook his head. "I pity your soon to be wife."

Offended, Satoru turned to his friend. "Hey! I'm your friend in need here!"

Suguru placed his bookmark gently in his book and then closed it. "Just promise you will show up to the wedding."

Satoru grinned. "Why? You scared of the higher-ups for me?"

"Not for you." He stood up as he looked down at his friend.

"For your wife. If an arranged marriage isn't going well, you know who gets blamed. And what you're doing is just cruel to her."

Gojo didn't say anything as he put on his blindfold.

~

"Do I look pretty?"

You didn't dare be louder than a whisper. "Mother?"

Her sigh gave you confirmation that she wasn't pleased. As she looked you up and down, her frown never disappeared. "As long you don't make that face, it's passable."

She stood up. "For a wedding you look... I just hope your husband will like you at your best."

"Soon to be husband." you corrected her quietly as you looked in the mirror.

"What?"

"Nothing."

She raised a brow but nodded slowly. Then she paced through the room impatiently. "That woman still hasn't given us any signs."

"Mrs. Gojo is probably seating the guests." a little part of you wanted to defend this woman. Your future mother in law.

"Or the groom makes problems again." your mother shook her head, like always when she spoke about the young Gojo.

After he didn't show up to a single meeting, she was sure that Mrs. Gojo didn't raise him right and that she as his mother should be blamed.

It was so pathetic. How you already felt his displeasure, his hatred towards you.

"Mother?"

"What is it?" she was annoyed.

"What was your wedding like?"

...

"Just like this one. It's tradition in our clan." her face was stone cold.

And you felt sympathy for her. She also had an arranged marriage. A wedding in which she didn't have any saying. A husband who she never chose.

"It's the bride's moment." The voice of Mrs. Gojo halled through the room.

Your mother smiled at you. You smiled back.

"Just don't mess it up."

~~

There were too many guests. Mostly people you didn't know. And all of them looked at you, while you made your way to the altar.

Under their stares you felt small.

But there was also this man. This guy with white hair, that stood at the end of your path. This boy that refused to even meet you before the wedding.

He gave you a glance and then continued to stubbornly look straight ahead.

As you stood before him, he didn't seem to be here with his thoughts.

And at this moment you knew he didn't want to marry you. No, you knew that before. But you knew that he would never open up or try to make this work.

And you didn't want that.

"I do."

No, you really didn't. And as he spatted the same words you knew that he was lying too.

~~

"Oh, you lucky girl!" The old woman, you didn't even know, said.

The after ceremony was not nice. All the guests wanted to talk to Gojo and some, not many pestered you. What really stung you was that they made more effort to talk to you than your own husband did.

"To marry such a handsome man." she looked at you and smiled knowingly.

"Of course it's an honor to marry Gojo Satoru as he is an important figure for the jujutsu society." Everything you said sounded like a broken record that lost any meaning.

She chuckled. "You can be honest with me. An heir will be on the way shortly, right?"

You hated this talk about an heir. Hated, hated, hated this people that keep telling you to hurry up and sleep with this man that didn't even look at you.

"We will see."

She laughed at that. And somehow you managed to excuse yourself from the conversation.

The rest of the evening was torture, but you somehow survived. Gojo didn't talk to you. He just disappeared at some point, leaving you alone in the cave of the lions.

His mother was right. He was a difficult person.

You hated that you had to ask around to be driven to his estate. Hated, that he didn't open the door, it was the personal chef that was going to leave. Hated, that you stood alone in this cold house.

He seemed to like to leave you alone. To just go.

You didn't want to sleep at this house. You didn't want to, but where should you go? Where could a place be, where you could hide?

Gojo had places. Not you.

You slept on the couch that evening. Your wedding dress was still on, as you didn't know what in this big house was to wear for you.

~~

"You're an asshole, you know that?" Satoru didn't like to hear that from his best friend, as he stood at his doorstep.

"I just need a place to sleep."

"I said to go to the wedding." Suguru felt like babysitting a toddler.

"And I did."

"Then why are you here? And not with your wife at your house?" Suguru slowly began to lose his patience.

"Can you just let me in, you ass?"

After shaking his head, Suguru opened his door wide enough to let Gojo in.

"Why are you here?" he wasn't going to make it easy for Satoru to forget he left you there.

"Had enough."

"You're such a child." Suguru shook his head. That's what ticked Gojo off.

"Stop it!" He threw his shoes on the floor.

"You can't judge me! Not when you don't know how it feels to have your future stripped from you just because you have been born in this family!"

Suguru kept silent this time.

~~

Your things were shiped to this mansion you should now live in. It wasn't a lot but your necessary clothes. Finally.

Finally you could take the dress off.

The clothing that reminded you that this was real. That your reason in life was already fulfilled and now you should just cease to exist.

No, that wasn't true, was it? You still had to bring an heir.

Will you ever get used to this new prison? You doubt it.

It was so big and cold. So many things but it didn't have this personal touch. It felt empty, unloved. Did Gojo even live here?

Well it seems like he wouldn't if you were here.

It was stupid. You didn't know him, just saw him yesterday for the first time in person. And still it was so clear he wouldn't make it easy for you.

You felt unloved.

"A letter, Mrs. Gojo."

The sudden voice blew you away from your thoughts. Another thing you wouldn't get used to. There were servants for the Clan leader. Like this girl. They were only needed in the kitchen, but it still felt wrong.

And something felt so wrong with being called this name.

"From who?"

The girl before you had a pitiful look. "Your mother." She cleared her throat. "She said, it's about your arrangement."

As you looked down at this paper, it felt like cursed energy was coming from it.

"Oh. Alright, thank you." Hesitating you took the letter.

The girl just nodded and made her way to the kitchen. The silence in this house was haunting.

Again you looked at the letter in your hands, and wished it was only paper. What should you do from now on? How would you spend your life?

Well obviously not with your husband as he wasn't even here.

And you would make sure that he didn't see the letters from your clan.

~~

"You're here." Satoru Gojo didn't seem pleased to see his wife in his house at this evening. Rather displeased, the way he frowned like a little child.

'Well.' you thought. 'That's to damn bad. He should have come to the arrangement hours.'

"Yeah. I have to be."

He didn't even look at you. Humiliation after humiliation. What would your child self say? Seeing that your own husband didn't even look or smile at you? The hopeless romantic would be crushed.

And now they definitely are.

"I see." His voice was barely audible. Oh, what a humiliation this must be for him! The strongest! Not even in control of his own marriage.

You really should pity him. Be understanding. Like the good wife your mother wanted you to be.

But you didn't have the strength to do that. No, you didn't sympathize with this man, that stood in front of you. The one who had the privilege of doing what he wanted till now just because he was blessed. Because he was born a boy.

And you were not.

"My things were brought this morning and Hina showed me around. I already-"

"Who is Hina?" Gojo sounded confused.

"The servant girl. The one who helps to cook?" you couldn't believe him. She even told you that she was working here since 3 years!

"Oh, yeah she. Continue."

You didn't like his tone, you didn't like his attitude, you didn't like that you didn't knew anything about him BECAUSE HE DIDN'T SHOW UP TO ANY-

"I already have my own room. I won't bother you." While trying to keep the bitterness down you started to whisper.

"What?"

As you looked up at him, your mind went blank. For the first time Satoru looked at you. With his big blue beautiful eyes, he looked at you. So mesmerizing that you almost forgot about your bitterness towards him.

Almost.

"I already have my own room. I won't bother you in any mean. We can also eat separately. In fact I would prefer that."

He snorted. "That's childish. Not even eating together."

And that broke the straw. The straw your patience was hanging on sooooo desperately.

"You." you poked his chest with force. "Can't tell me what's childish or not."

Your voice grew a bit. "You can't, not after not attending any meetings, actively trying to get away from me on our wedding day, leaving me alone for our clan people, leaving me alone for the night way to a new house I have to call home now!"

He kept silent. Like all the times you saw him.

"SO EXCUSE ME." You made your way to your room, shouting to make sure he knew what you said.

"IF I THINK MY HUSBAND DOESN'T WANT TO SEE ME AT ALL! AND IF I DON'T WANT TO HAVE MYSELF SUFFER THROUGH IT!"

You slammed the door with force.

You don't think your husband will ever even like you. Or if Gojo would ever even be your husband.