#but what he could've been haunts me

[phoenix-before-the-flame]

hello I’d love to hear about natsu. do you have any thoughts abt what he was like before we (and lucy) meet him in fairy tail? like with growing up in the guild and all that

You were the first one in here but I literally had to let your ask marinate in my head longer to answer it properly lol.

So we don't know much about Natsu's childhood, whether it be pre-guild with Igneel or pre- main story when he joined the guild apart from a spare handful of moments and facts, these being:

Makarov was evidently the one to find him.

That god forsaken scene of the others laughin at him for not being able to read.

His moments with Gildarts as a kid

Macao being a teacher to him at some point who taught him to use his fire other than to burn things ( hello Natsu vs Erigor )

Finding and raising Happy with his bestie Lisanna

He never officially formed a team with anyone in the guild before the main story.

I think I might be missing a spare few but you get the idea.

For a main character we know scarcely little about him. His thoughts, his views. Zero. Which honestly for such a long running series is so odd to not even get a peek at what's goin on in his head.

There's nothing absolutely solid about his past that we can get to use to dig into his head. Save for the fact that he loves his friends and his family.

Across the board for a lot of his moments in his past we know he's got a lotta love to give. He loves his Dad, he loves Happy, he loves his guild. But just because you have something doesn't mean you know how to work with it.

He loves Igneel. Igneel disappeared. And that forced him into a denial of his dad being dead so strong that up until present in the main story he still desperately searches for him even when the other slayers had accepted it. ( And i'm almost sure he got laughed at for over the years. Can you imagine? Saying your looking for a dragon in a dragonless world?)

He loves his friends. But I think after that damning moment (which honestly I think is a moment really early is his joining the guild. Like he hadn't gotten to know em 100% yet) of them laughing at him he clams up about certain things.

Any moment of vulnerability he could have with them down the line is tossed out to avoid something like that happening down the line.

Lisanna (lisanna, lisanna ilu. I should draw u more.) was a blessing in that she was working on getting those walls down and she was close! Then her incident happened and he clammed up again even fucking harder than before!

Man this is such a long winded way to answer your question but I think growing up in the guild for Natsu, I think as much as he loves everyone- and he does! He loves em all! Even the mfers who piss him off sometimes- I think even though he was there with everyone he didn't feel as though he could open up (or well risk opening up tbh) to them. So he played along to make things in general easier going forward. (Whether intentional or not is up in the air)

So whatever perceptions everyone had of him he rolled with it. He's a lil bit dumb, he's loud, he's inattentive, etc. He doesn't deny what's said about him. Hell he might even play it up. He just doesn't do anything to break the perception as time went on. And since no one really dug like Lisanna did there was no reason to break it.

So he grew up in the guild as the happy go lucky loner. Nothin more and supposedly, nothing less.

[nnayomaise]

i think the thing that really gets me about all the "we've got to kill this guy kabru" meme redraws with mithrun is that in the very first conversation mithrun has with laios, he trusts him with, essentially the fate of the world and his life long revenge quest against the demon

[harbingersecho]

[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

I imagine Jason didn't fully really see Dick as his brother, that was more like a distant figure. Nightwing who's a hero and very cool and sometimes tells him he's doing a good job. Like? Augh. Putting this into words

He never truly yearned or hoped for Dick to hang out more, to be his brother, to take him on trips in and out of uniform. Like he thought about it, but it just. Didn't seem the realm of possibility. Dick was cool, he liked him, he would've loved to hang out with him more. But the idea having an actual proper relationship never really fully crossed him. He didn't agonise over Dick not being a brother because it just. Didn't come to mind, it didn't seem a possibility, it just wasn't a thing. Why would he expect Dick to be a brother to him, why would he ever expect Dick to hang out with him more

[roboyomo]

oh wait. Did i ever tell you guys about a scrapped kenix idea i had like over a year ago. i just called it waltz of death and well. I think you get the idea from just that

[gaydryad]

so for Writing Reasons I've been going back through all my old personal writing (including some very old social media posting) and the sheer force with which I wanted to dress up or roleplay "as a guy" from ages 12 to 15 is truly stunning. WHILE BEING AWARE OF TRANS AND NONBINARY PEOPLE. AS A OPTION. FULLY ZERO-BRAIN-CELL AWARENESS-ZERO ASS EGG

[karmaphone]

I can see some of y'all are deep in the colonial romance fantasies re silna 😒😒😒

[bravevolunteer]

thinking about the spare springlock suit that michael gets trapped in in sl. what do you guys think it was :)

[chatsukimi]

ᴄᴏᴜʀᴛɪɴɢ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ

featuring: protective!heian!sukuna, kindhearted!servant!reader. slight angst/hurt -> comfort. synopsis: you're sick. to your surprise, you're rescued by the man second closest to death himself. masterlist

you should've known he wouldn't come. sukuna has never set foot in the servant's headquarters in his life, let alone to chase after a sick servant. you lower your head, trying to ease the headache that has plagued you through the day.

sukuna loves his bloodshed and his gore. him and death would be good friends, you think to yourself. he wouldn't care if your body was burnt or buried, you think to yourself; wouldn't care if you died at all.

the room the others put you in is empty. ash spreads neatly over the cold floor. the scent of kibble haunts the atmosphere. it's where they put the dogs before sukuna killed them.

ever since you took care of the king of curses while he was sick, the other servants had been careful in keeping a distance from you. not in ill of heart; they're simply terrified at what you must've done to survive in your week long stay with the monster. honestly, you don't blame them.

but now when you're laying on the freezing ground, struggling to breathe, it's hard not to.

'this is where you live?'

your eyes look up. shock. then, with all the strength you can muster, you heave yourself one step away from the man at the doorway, which only serves to piss him off more.

sukuna ryomen, in all his glory, looks down at you. bending down to pick you up like a limp doll to be seated against the wall, he seems to revel in his regained strength. you can't help but feel happy for him, to have survived this fatal disease. not many men can attest to that...

then again, he is no ordinary man.

'i asked you a question.'

you nod, a small thing, barely a movement. he seems to clench his teeth.

he takes off his long white coat, flaunting a layer of dried blood, and drapes it over your shoulders.

yet it doesn't end there. he retrieves from his pocket a bottle of what looks to be a golden syrup.

you know exactly what it is.

he takes your hand and wraps it around the flask, making you hold it, sparing, not one, but two of his eyes, to stare at you, making sure you do as he commands.

'swallow.'

you shake your head. you know he's asking you to do. this is a medication is so rare for your disease that no sorcerer has found in over a hundred years. he's brought this thing of myth right to your very lips. now he's asking you to drink it, and thus take away any chance of it saving anyone else's life.

you scowl, but the tickling sensation in your throat grows stronger, eventually erupting out of your mouth in a harsh cough. you look away from sukuna.

'leave,' you whisper, weakly. 'don't wanna infect you.'

'i survived the illness already. i've developed an immunity.'

you shake your head again. you couldn't threaten your king's health with your own weakness. you just couldn't.

'i can't take this.'

he growls. without any notice, he swallows your lips in a kiss. in the momentary haze, you could hardly resist, fisting the front of his kimono to ground yourself. then, you feel something sweet, honey-ish, hit your tongue.

with his hand locked on your chin, it forces you to swallow.

you pull back, pushing him away. he groans.

he wipes his mouth, still with two eyes staring.

no... no, why did he do that?

'y-you- how? no... why did you waste it on me?' you whisper, desperately searching his face for an answer. 'i'm just a servant. you could've given it to a princess, or a scholar, or priest-'

he grabs you by the arm and forces you into his arms. its heat astounds you, and you find yourself crawling closer. a vague thumping sound seems to press against your ear-

oh. you calm your breathing.

it's his heartbeat.

alive.

'sleep in my room tonight,' he demands.

what did he say? you strain your mind, trying to replay what he said earlier. no... maybe you heard correctly.

'but i'm no concubine,' you respond, instantly.

his arm supports your waist, helping you up effortlessly to your feet. he then directs two of his eyes to the doorway, his cadence low and domineering.

'it doesn't matter.'

he leads you placidly through the servant's quarters. you notice all conversation cease at your entry, bodies dropping into a low bow. a small voice in you whispers that it's where you should be too. you tug at sukuna's arm.

'i'm only a servant, sukuna.'

you know what it looks like, a servant clutching onto a man, more god than human. a man who has slaughtered villages, blood staining the base of his kimono crimson, and turned half a province on its head, just to save you.

'whatever you are in my eyes is what you are to the world,' he states, his expression unchanging. 'if i deem you a queen, that is who you are.'

exiting the servant compound, you know you can't say no- not like you wanted to. the wide expanse of his chest is comforting.

yet however sweet this feeling remains, you can't help but gulp. perhaps this is the closest a human has ever come to courting death.

[aphel1on]

the longer i look at this panel the more deranged i feel about it. this is environmental storytelling at its finest.

the eodio stand-in doll in particular makes me crazy. where did it come from? did thistle just pop into the village like "hey ungrateful wretches, one of you needs to make me a life-sized mannequin, For Reasons". did he make it himself? seems quite unlikely, yet the possibility haunts me. i mean, i guess there could've been one just lying around the dungeon somewhere. it's the act of replacement itself that really gets to me. (edit: it's been pointed out to me that the eodio doll also could have been left behind as part of delgal's escape plan. slightly different kind of madness but tbh, just as funny-sad to me if that happened and thistle went Ok, Guess That's Eodio Now.)

both the wives are there too. we know very little about them, which makes me tend to assume thistle wasn't all that close to them, but they're still included. when did they end up here? did he kick their souls out of their bodies at some point, or were they among those who left their bodies voluntarily to try and escape? when did yaad become an effective orphan, delgal an effective widower? women in the margins of the narrative, tell me your stories!

and the fact that they're surrounded with the living paintings, which thistle habitually wanders through to relive the past. this truly is his inner sanctum, his place of utmost comfort... and it may as well be a tomb.

that panel is so creepy when you first see it. just a sense of "ohh jeez, there's a lot to unpack there".

and actually, yeah, it remains creepy from pretty much any angle, but the more you think about it the more it's also tragic.

this is where many of thistle's happiest moments took place. everything he had in that picture is now gone. first he lost their warm regard, then one-by-one their bodies became hollow shells. before the end, none of the people here needed or enjoyed food anymore. the dinner table, as a center of both family life and nutrition, became obsolete.

a line from someone else's excellent post about thistle has stuck in my head ever since i read it: "to eat is to live, but to eat together is to be loved". to me, this is the sentiment and symbolism at the core of everything that happens in dungeon meshi.

it makes this bit all the sadder and more disturbing.

there's several things to note here:

thistle has gone from seated and eating with them as part of the family, to a lonely and ominous figure hovering over delgal's shoulder

eodio is conspicuously absent from view, and his body would have been a husk by now, but yaad says parents, which forces me to assume that they are sitting at the table with eodio's soulless body, hidden under yaad's speech bubble

they're not actually eating anything.

those plates are empty. you could assume that they've already finished eating, maybe, but yaad refers to it as sitting around the dinner table. in fact, he compares it to what he's currently doing; sitting at the dinner table watching the touden party eat, not eating anything himself.

it paints a pretty grim picture. for some time even after the fantasy had fallen apart, even after there was no need or desire to eat, they kept gathering around the dinner table. at that point, i'd guess only so as not to provoke thistle's wrath.

but even that last happened a long, long time ago.

this is a callback to what senshi said in the golden kingdom: the reason the people keep maintaining their fields and silverware and so forth is that they need to do so in order to stay sane.

paradoxically, the dinner table is the most striking evidence of thistle's insanity, and at the same time, it's the only anchor to sanity he has left.

he kept enforcing the ritual of dinner together long after it lost significance. when even that was impossible- because almost everyone's souls were gone- he kept their bodies at the table anyway. it's fine. it's fine! he's protected them, physically, just like he set out to. they're all still breathing. at a glance it looks like they could wake up and resume dinner at any moment. like this, it's easy to pretend.

isn't that what being a dungeon lord is, at the core of it? rejecting reality, staying in the prison of one's impossible desires. it's just one long game of pretend.

thistle did all this to protect his loved ones. no matter how obsessive and twisted he became in pursuit of that over the years, his core motivation never changed. this is all he has left of that dream: his loved ones' bodies gathered around the locus of their happiest memories together. like this, he can tell himself he's succeeded.

when eodio's body vanished with delgal's soul in it- when he couldn't even have that anymore... well.

i want to reach through the screen and shake him. no, they're not, thistle. THISTLE, NO, THEY'RE NOT! the doll of eodio is the closest thing to him in this panel, underlining the point. when that final illusion was shattered, he became completely unable to cope with reality.

therefore casually forgetting the creepy eodio doll isn't real.

thistle isn't stupid. eodio's body vanished at the same time as delgal's soul. shortly after, more adventurers came pouring in than ever before. deep down, he knows what happened. if he didn't, being confronted with the truth by mithrun wouldn't have made him panic so hard he summoned chimera falin to the first floor.

yet still...

he absolutely can't admit that to himself. he is clinging to the last scraps of the illusion with everything he has.

this is a dungeon lord at the end of desire. this is a lotus-eater machine left running long after its conclusion. this is mithrun lying listlessly in his bed, his replica lover having given up any pretense of being human. the illusion is all that's left. (an illusion is all it ever was.) thistle and the citizens of the golden kingdom- they're ghosts just as much as the ones who wander the dungeon floors. and if it weren't for thistle sealing the lion away, he would've been eaten by it long ago.

all of this encapsulated by that single panel of the dinner table.

[spicysourchimken]

Interesting reunions

Tim and Danny are twins, Danny was given up for adoption by the Drakes when he was a baby and Tim was never told he has a brother.

After a reveal gone bad, Danny, Jazz, Sam and Tucker became thieves after closing the portal. They mainly target supernatural or cursed items. Their target, a necklace, is being held in a museum with their in being a private event to show off the piece before it's sent back to its owner.

The heist would've gone well if Tim hadn't also been in attendance.

------

'Lmao and here I thought you didn't want to be here'

It was a text from Dick.

Not exactly the strangest thing to happen when Tim was forced to attend an event.

He'd been benched after a mission resulted in a minor concussion. He'd personally been planning on going over his paperwork for Wayne Enterprises, but apparently that wasn't 'rest', instead he was sent off to be bored out of his mind at some art function. He didn't have time to prepare notes or even do any real research. But he still had Dick who had apparently been dragged along as his babysitter (And was fortunately interested in the items on display)

They'd been texting throughout the night. Dick fed him enough information to be mildly interested in topics of conversation, and when that failed the strange history of the main display. An old necklace that supposedly was connected to a string of deaths and all around misfortune.

So no, the text wasn't strange, but what was, was the photo attached. It was a picture of a man, grinning and chatting amicably with a woman whom he could barely make out as the collection's curator. His hair was longer than Tim's, tied neatly back to be clear of his glasses and to give clear view of the man's face.

Tim's face.

There was a clone at the event.

'can u get me another pic?'

Tim was now significantly more interested. Tim could identify the room they were in, housing the main display and it was about two rooms over from where he was currently hiding out. He could get there easily enough.

Dick sent him a thumbs up before replying with another, distinctly more uncomfortable photo of the man. He smiled awkwardly and Tim could finally get a better look at his face. Tim's brows scrunched together. A lichtenburg scar stretched up from beneath his collar and trailed along his jaw and in the light the man's eyes almost looked green.

He ran the photo through his facial recognition software, getting at least a few pings on himself before finally landing on Jonas Spencer, private security currently assigned to shadow one Morgan Deveraux. His history was solid, highschool records, even a spotty criminal history (points where he'd almost been arrested for bar fights) before he'd joined up with his firm.

So. not a clone. Probably.

Tim would still need to check it out. He pushed past a dark haired woman and entered the main show room. Dick, luckily had kept him in conversation but Jonas looked flighty, his eyes always drifting back to his charge.

Then he caught sight of Tim.

He froze. Staring at Tim for a moment before he tapped his ear- and what Tim assumed to be a comm. He made a move for Morgan, leaving Dick in the dust.

The lights flickered. Jonas reached for Megan, his hand wrapping around hers. Tim could've sworn his eyes darted upwards. Then there was a complete blackout. There was a clatter as a vent grate fell to the floor, shouts arose from the attendees.

Then the lights flickered back to life.

Jonas and Morgan had vanished, and so did the necklace as well as three other paintings.

Good news, its not a clone. Bad news, he might have a twin brother who is in a gang of thieves.

--

Daniel Fenton, or as his ID currently stated 'Jonas Spencer', wouldn't exactly call himself a thief- personally he was more of a collector. Or a curator, whatever the hell you might call a guy who grabs haunted and or cursed objects and dumps them in an alternate dimension.

And it wasn't exactly like he was normally the one stealing things either! That was mostly Sam, he'd done for a bit when they'd first started up (pushing his hands through the glass and taking a necklace with him, or making a painting completely invisible as he whisked it away) but then Sam started calling it 'cheating' and claimed 'his technique was lacking' and promptly took over his position.

(He didn't exactly mind, using his powers too often made his skin crawl. He may not have the GIW constantly hunting him, but he'd had enough run ins to make him sweat. He also didn't want to think about his parents.)

So maybe their entire deal wasn't completely altruistic. When you've been on the run since seventeen and had decided that you, your best friends and your older sister are going to become international thieves, sometimes you have to steal things so that you can have an income. And sometimes stealing is fun.

Unluckily their current job wasn't recreational. They'd heard word of a haunted necklace, there was a string of bad luck connected to it. Mirrors shattering, injuries popping up only days after interacting with the piece, lights falling out from the ceiling. There'd also been a case of near death.

Very clearly the latest display piece was cursed meaning they needed to grab it before it was shipped back into it private collection in France. That meant a time crunch, meaning they wouldn't be fully prepared. It was fine- they'd stolen the dagger of Amon Ra when they had half a day to plan, so three should've been fine.

He and Jazz manned the floor, Jazz kept to grifting while Danny worked as support if things went sideways on any front. Jazz, currently wealthy socialite 'Morgan Devereaux', draped an arm around a politician as he guided her through the collection. Jazz shot him a glance telling him to stay back, keep monitoring the main floor with the necklace.

That was fine. He could do that. He approached the curator and complimented the piece, letting her tell him about the struggles she had getting it overseas let alone her conversations with the owner. Ok, so definitely cursed.

Danny felt eyes on his back, and from the corner of his eye he saw someone take a photo. Tall, dark hair and a bright smile.

Sam pointed out that it was a Wayne.

At that point Danny made an attempt to leave, if he was going to get into a fight we wasn't going to do it there. He'd be too close to the necklace for Sam to get in and grab it without attention being drawn to her too. But Grayson cornered him impressively fast. He asked Danny for a photo, claiming that he looked just like his brother. Danny relented.

Then Tucker chimed in that someone had ran his face. Fuck. Dick kept him in conversation but Danny was eyeing their escape roots. Sam warned that another was coming through the left entrance and that she'd already lifted his phone. Danny turned, preparing himself for confrontation.

Then Danny saw him, his doppelganger.

Grayson hadn't been lying. That thought was terrifying.

Danny sent two taps into his earpiece and made his way towards Jazz. They couldn't risk staying any longer. Danny didn't know if they'd been made or not but he wasn't taking chances. He nodded to Sam who went for the jewels as Tucker cut the lights. Jazz and Danny took a painting each.

Sam went for the vents and Danny and Jazz disappeared through the front door.

[itadorey]

𝐡𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐞— gojo satoru

pairing: gojo satoru x reader summary: even after you leave the jujutsu world behind, gojo satoru finds himself unable to get over you. genre: fluff! some angst but happy ending, friends to lovers notes: inspired by the song "haunt me (x3)" by teen suicide, gojo is awful at realizing his own feelings and dealing with them wc: ~4.8k

the day that you leave tokyo jujutsu tech is a dull one.

gojo think this must've been months in the planning, especially considering the fact that you're standing with nothing but a backpack slung over your shoulder with the rest of your belongings nowhere to be seen.

(he later learns that they had already been moved to your new apartment, and nanami and shoko had helped you move out over the course of a month.)

he also discovers that he's the only one that hasn't been informed of your departure, especially since he seems to be the only one taken by surprise as you stand by the entrance and say your goodbyes. he wonders if it's his fault for taking so many missions after geto's defection, and he feels his stomach lurch uncomfortably when he realizes that he's been so distracted that he once again couldn't see something happening with one of his friends.

and now you're leaving.

"you have to promise to visit," shoko says, engulfing you in a tight hug. gojo feels his mouth run dry at the sight, and he can't help but feel panicked when you give shoko a soft grin.

"i'll certainly do my best," you respond, reaching over to tug on her hair. she sighs in return, grabbing you by the shoulders and shaking you gently as she stares you down.

"answer your phone, ok? you can't ignore my texts now that you're leaving."

a quiet laugh leaves your lips at her words, and you nod reassuringly before giving her a loud smooch on the cheek and moving down the line. gojo watches you closely as you say your goodbye to yaga, the older man turning away from you to brush a fake tear away from his eye. he presses a soft, floppy doll into your hands before you move away from him, and gojo can see the distinct shine in your eye that lets him know that you're holding tears at bay.

he looks down at the ground when he realizes that he's the only one left for you to say goodbye to, and he can't help the way he tenses up when he sees your shoes come to a stop in front of him. there's a moment of silence during which gojo can feel everyone's eyes on him, and he begrudgingly looks up at you and removes his sunglasses.

if this is the last time he's seeing you, he's going to make sure he remembers every little detail.

there's a sharp intake of breath as you steadily meet his gaze, and you find yourself rendered speechless at the sight of his eyes. gojo can hear shoko cough lightly, and he steels himself before giving you a forced smile.

"so you're leaving," he whispers, his eyes widening slightly when he realizes what he's just said. you seem to be caught off guard as well, eyebrows raising in surprise before giving him a nod. he takes a moment to breathe, aware of shoko's lingering gaze as the two of you face each other. "oh. i didn't know."

"yeah," you breathe, rubbing your arm as you look away from him. "i hadn't gotten the chance to tell you. it seems like you're always off on a mission these days."

"you could've texted," gojo attempts to say jokingly, wincing when his words fall flat. you laugh lightly at his words, recognizing the teasing undertone even if the delivery had been less than perfect. you always seem to understand gojo, regardless of whether or not he wants you to.

"we both know you never look at your phone," you tease back, giving him a pretty smile that he hasn't seen in a while. he chuckles breathlessly at your jab, and he nods his agreement before glancing at shoko.

"neither do you," he shoots back, the corners of his lips turning up into a small smile when you follow his line of sight. "you gotta get better at that. can't risk pissing shoko off."

the space between the two of you is filled with uncertain laughter at gojo's remark, and you take a moment to study gojo before taking a step forward and wrapping your arms around his neck. he stumbles back a step or two at your sudden action, tensing up when you tuck your face into the crook of his neck.

"i'll miss you," you whisper, your breath warm against his neck. he tries to ignore the goosebumps that rise up along the smooth expanse of his neck, too focused on wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer to him when he feels you start to step away.

gojo knows that everyone else is watching the two of you, he can feel shoko's soft gaze and yaga's sad look as he does his best to ignore them and bury his face into your hair. there's an intense urge to ask you to stay building up inside of him, and he clamps his lips shut tightly in order to keep himself from blurting out his plea. the two of you remain in each other's arms before you finally take a deep breath and step away, giving gojo a watery smile.

"i'll miss you, satoru," you whisper, looking away and blinking back your tears. "i'll see you later, yeah?"

gojo nods dumbly as you finally walk away, giving everyone one last wave before slipping into the car that's been waiting for you this entire time. it isn't until he sees it disappear from view that gojo realizes that he didn't tell you that he would miss you too.

he wastes no time in slipping his sunglasses back over his eyes, clearing his throat quietly before turning and making his way back inside the building.

a week later, gojo hears that nanami has left jujutsu tech as well, and he can't help but wonder if he'll ever see either of you again.

gojo likes to think that he's matured, even though shoko might say otherwise because she's certain she's right. and also to piss him off.

but the truth is, he's no longer the same spunky, reckless teenager he was before everything went wrong in his life. he knows how to sort of work through his emotions now— in a way he thinks is healthy, he might add, but he can't help but find himself frozen in this very moment. there's a weird ache in his heart, one that he silently notes seems to be brought on by the flurry of emotions he's feeling in that very instant.

he wonders if they're visible on his face. they are.

gojo satoru is the most powerful jujutsu sorcerer in japan, maybe even in the world, and yet he feels like he's been reduced to almost nothing when a familiar face slides into the seat across from him.

five years is clearly not long enough to forget you, gojo realizes, physically wincing at the way his heart seems to race at the sight of you. his eyes meet yours, and he holds steady eye contact with you for a few seconds before ducking his head and quietly excusing himself from the table.

he takes a deep breath to attempt and soothe his rattled nerves as he takes a seat at the bar, squishing himself into the corner so that he's not visible from your table. he orders a soda from the bartender, ignoring the disbelieving look he gets in return before he ambles off to prepare the drink.

gojo has barely taken a sip of the soda before shoko is crashing into his side, settling onto the barstool next to him and digging her elbow into his side as she calls her order out to the bartender. neither of them speak until shoko gets her drink, and she immediately lifts it to her lips and takes a big sip that makes gojo shudder with disgust.

"surprise," shoko says dryly, glancing at gojo as he spares a look in your direction. he notices three extra people at the table, and he lets his shoulders drop in relief when he sees familiar heads of blond, white, and brunette.

"yeah, quite the surprise," gojo huffs, taking another sip of his soda. he stares at shoko until she turns to face him, a mildly displeased look on her face as she takes in his furrowed eyebrows. "i didn't know you still kept in contact with them."

"i didn't know you didn't still keep in contact with them," shoko shoots back, raising an eyebrow as she studies gojo's conflicted expression. she continues before he can gather his thoughts, earning a loud sigh as she speaks. "you kept in contact with nanami just fine. in fact, all he does is complain about how you never leave him alone."

gojo swallows harshly at shoko's words, and he thinks long and hard before deciding to remain silent for the time being. he can't find it in himself to admit that the thought of reaching out to you hurts him more than he cares to admit. you had left the jujutsu world, the one part of your life that included him, behind. even if he wanted to, gojo doesn't think he can find the words to express how he's feeling.

"switch seats with me when we get back to the table," gojo says suddenly, pausing to slurp up the rest of his drink. shoko glares at him when he sucks on nothing but air, the obnoxious sound causing her to reach over and flick him in the cheek. gojo grins widely when she hits nothing but air, his infinity protecting him from shoko's incredibly violent wrath.

"no," she says, getting off her barstool and picking up her drink. gojo realizes too late that she's heading back to the table, and he scrambles after her in an attempt to get there before her. his attempts are fruitless, and he finds himself awkwardly standing behind shoko's seat as she takes her place two chairs down from you.

gojo acts normal when everyone turns to glance at him, and he stiffly makes his way back to his own seat, avoiding your questioning gaze as he sits down. it takes a second for the table to break out into chatter again, and gojo doesn't hesitate before turning to the seat next to him and striking up a conversation with utahime. he notices mei mei grab your attention out of the corner of his eye, and he can't help but sigh in relief as he focuses on utahime once again, disregarding her annoyed look.

gojo is certain that ignoring you is much easier than dealing with whatever the hell is causing him to feel like he's dying inside.

the days that follow the dinner at the restaurant are unnervingly quiet, and gojo finds himself sitting on his couch and wondering if he should reach out to you.

there are no missions to take at the moment, and gojo is left with nothing to do but stare at his phone and wait for a message that never comes. megumi takes note of his sullen behavior, and although a part of him is curious about gojo's sudden attitude change, he doesn't think he actually cares enough to ask the white-haired sorcerer about what seems to be bothering him.

a few more days pass before gojo ultimately decides that reaching out to you would do more harm than good, especially with the way he completely ignored you at dinner. he's given no time to even think about changing his mind, and the very next day, he's being sent out on yet another mission.

he eventually falls into the same monotonous routine his life had prior to his run-in with you, and he wonders what would've changed if he had decided to take the chance and reach out the day after seeing you. there's a dull ache in his chest that seems to linger even after he makes his decision, and it only seems to get worse whenever shoko deigns to share updates about you with him.

the two of them know that gojo is more than grateful for her updates, even if he refuses to ask about you outright. he's certain that if he were to fully give into his curiosity that his heart would feel like it's giving out on him, and not even shoko's displeased looks are enough for him to get over himself and just ask you directly. he's even stopped pestering nanami, too afraid that he would give in and ask him questions about you.

it isn't until a long time passes (a year and a half; he's kept count) that gojo thinks he's finally getting over it— getting over you. his heart finally starts feeling lighter and breathing becomes a little bit easier and he can't help but think about how silly he was being, staying hung up for so long on somebody who probably never even thought twice about him.

they're small improvements but they're still improvements, and gojo reminds himself of that even as he walks down the busy streets of tokyo. he breathes out a sigh of relief as he slips into the local pharmacy, the cool air conditioning a welcome reprieve from the sticky heat outside.

he mumbles to himself as he moves through the aisles, scanning the shelves as he looks for children's allergy medication. the sudden weather changes had affected megumi and tsumiki in a way none of them had expected, and gojo was left alone to deal with their pitiful sniffles and soft complaints.

"allergy meds," he whispers, reaching out to grab a box only to put it back when it's not the one he's looking for. "there's so much cough syrup, where's the aller—"

"gojo?"

so maybe he hasn't improved, gojo thinks to himself as he freezes up at the sound of your voice. he holds his breath as you approach him, and he squeezes his eyes shut when he feels your sleeve brush against his.

six and a half years isn't enough to forget about you either, it seems.

"it's been a while, huh?" you ask, giving him a soft glance before looking at the shelves in front of you. there's a light hum that escapes your lips as you bend down to grab something before straightening up and holding out a box in your hand. "allergy meds, right?"

gojo nods silently as he takes the box from you, quickly scanning the text on it to make sure it was the right brand. there's an awkward silence as he thinks about what to say, and he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind when you turn your face away from him.

"it's not for me!"

a noise that gojo thinks might be a giggle leaves your lips at his proclamation, and he mentally kicks himself for starting up a conversation with you.

"it's for megumi, right?" you ask softly, unaware of the way gojo's eyes widen at your question. "that zenin kid you took in?"

when you notice gojo's shocked look, you hastily ass onto your statement. "shoko told me about him when i asked about you."

'shoko told me about him when i asked about you.'

gojo thinks he feels his head spin when he hears those words come out of your mind. he does his best to remain calm, reaching out a hand to lean against the shelf comfortably and wincing when he instead knocks down a row of the cough syrups he had been studying earlier.

"uh, fushiguro, actually," he mutters, doing his best to focus on straightening out the products he knocked down. "his dad took his wife's last name or something like that. but yeah, the medicine is for him and his sister."

he finds himself shuffling awkwardly as you look down at your watch, eyes widening slightly when you take note of the time. he watches as you turn to face the shelf behind you, quickly plucking some eye drops off the shelf before turning back to him.

"i have to go, i'm running late for a meeting," you say sheepishly, giving gojo a soft smile. he gives you a half-smile in return, accompanied by a lazy wave as he waits for you to leave. you stand in front of him for a second, hesitating slightly before leaning in and wrapping your arms around him in a quick hug. gojo tenses up in your embrace, his breath catching in his throat and hands freezing mid-air before he hesitantly places them on your back. you pull back slightly after a few seconds, looking up at gojo with a stare that makes his heart feel like it's about to beat out of his chest before you address him once more. "it was nice to see you. we should catch up sometime."

you're gone with a smile and a wave, quickly paying for your eye drops before darting out the door. gojo remains in his spot for five minutes after your departure, only moving when he sees the amused look the cashier seems to be giving him. he doesn't speak as he pays for the allergy medication, and he hastily makes his exit back into the stifling heat. he starts walking down the street as he tucks his change into his pocket, eyebrows furrowing in confusion when his fingers brush against a piece of paper that hadn't bee there before.

there's an annoyed grumble from a passerby when gojo suddenly stops in the middle of the street, his fingers clutching onto the paper that contains very familiar handwriting.

'can't wait to see you again! :)'

the line is followed by what he assumes to be your phone number, and gojo can't help but wonder when you had the chance to write the note. he begins moving down the street again, his steps sluggish as he hesitates near a trash can. before he can think any harder, he lets the paper flutter into wastebasket, only pausing for a brief second before moving away.

not seeing you over the past year and a half made his heart feel lighter, yet all it took was a five minute interaction with you to make his heart feel worse than it ever had before.

the world loves to play cruel jokes on him, gojo thinks.

the past two years have been a whirlwind of chaos and uncertainty, and he's had no time to stop and think about you while dealing with geto, sukuna, and the emergence of the cursed spirit that calls itself mahito.

if he really thinks about it, he's had no time to sit and rest. from geto's attack to yuuta's training to megumi's missions to yuuji's interesting choice that led to him eating sukuna's finger, he's had no time to sit and truly enjoy the little things life has to offer.

(not that he's ever had the time. the life of a special grade sorcerer is a busy one, but gojo can't deny that things weren't always as complicated as they have been the last couple of years.)

so when yaga tells him that nanami is returning to jujutsu tech, gojo thinks that it's the perfect time to let yuuji learn from someone other than him while he takes care of some unfinished business. what he doesn't expect however, is to see you standing next to nanami, a pretty smile on your face as you greet yaga with a hug.

ten years. ten years and somehow, you still manage to make gojo feel the same way he did way back then.

there's something wrong with him, he thinks, especially because it's starting to seem like he's cursed to always somehow coexist with those he cares about without ever fully being a part of their lives. there's no way he can turn around and pretend he never saw you, not with the way yaga is already yelling at him to go over and greet the returners.

gojo wonders why this happens every time he sees you. he doesn't know how to label what he feels whenever you pop up in his life, and it isn't until you give him a hesitant greeting— your tone shy and awkward after receiving nothing but radio silence from him— that gojo thinks he might finally know what it is he feels for you.

and when the thought of him being in love with you crosses his mind and makes him feel like he wants to die, all he can do is tamp down his swirling emotions with a goofy grin aimed at nanami.

"nanami! what a pleasure to see you here," gojo sings, immediately pulling the blond man into a reluctant hug. he gives you a polite nod in greeting, and he can't help the way his heart sinks when you nod in response and look away.

"likewise," nanami replies, his tone strained as he pulls away from gojo. he fixes his shirt as he steps over to you, and the two of you stand silently as you wait for yaga to speak.

"introduce them to yuuji," yaga says, turning around and heading back towards his office. "and don't cause trouble. i mean it, satoru."

gojo giggles at yaga's words before clapping his hands and motioning for the two of you to follow after him, leading you down a series of hallways before you come to a stop in front of an empty room.

"yuuji! there's someone i'd like you to meet!"

you're taken slightly aback when your eyes meet bright, brown ones, and you can't help but stare as a teenage boy with pink hair comes to a stop in front of you and nanami.

"this is nanami kento!" gojo all but yells, once again slinging his arm around nanami's shoulders and swaying him back and forth. the boy, yuuji, looks at nanami curiously, his eyes focused on the glasses perched on his nose. he has no time to speak before gojo is introducing you as well, his voice softer than it had been when introducing nanami. yuuji's eyes sparkle as they shift to you, and all of a sudden he's breaking out into a boyish smile that only serves to remind you just how young he really is.

"woah! i didn't think you were actually real!" he proclaims, earning a strained laugh from gojo. "when gojo mentioned you he said you were really p—"

the rest of his words are muffled, gojo's hands clamped tightly against his mouth as he pulls yuuji away from you. out of the corner of your eye, you can see nanami staring at you, and you only give him a shrug in return as gojo pats yuuji's head and lets him go.

"you'll be following them around on missions," gojo finally explains, pushing yuuji towards you and nanami. "they're both grade 1 sorcerers so don't worry, you'll be safe! now if you'll excuse me, i have to go."

gojo's out of the room before either of you can breathe out a goodbye, and you tense for a second before excusing yourself and following after him. he hasn't gotten terribly far, but his long legs give him the advantage of staying ahead of you even as you start jogging lightly in an attempt to catch up to him.

"gojo!" you call out, huffing lightly when he ignores you and turns a corner. "hey! gojo, wait! satoru!"

the sounds of his given name has his steps faltering, and he reluctantly turns around when he hears your footsteps getting closer and closer. there's a rigidity to his stance that you've never seen, his shoulders hunched in an almost defensive way as you finally come to a stop in front of him.

"yeah?" he asks, an uncomfortable grin settling on his lips as he looks anywhere but you. he's grateful for his blindfold in this very moment, the dark fabric preventing him from seeing you in your entirety and preventing you from seeing the way he can't seem to look at you for more than half a second.

"i—," you say, starting to speak and cutting yourself off before looking down at the ground. you sigh softly, shaking your head lightly as your shoulders slump. "never mind. forget about it."

you turn to walk back to the room, and gojo feels like he might actually keel over and die right then and there if he lets you walk away yet again.

"how have you been?"

gojo's question hangs in the air, and he can't help but flinch when you finally look at him again, your eyes swirling with hurt and sadness and other emotions that pass so quickly that gojo isn't sure he could figure out what they were even if he tried.

"you'd know if you hadn't thrown my phone number away," you retort quietly, crossing your arms as he approaches you. gojo breathes in sharply at your words but remains quiet, his throat going dry as he realizes that you had seen what he did that day. "why, gojo?"

gojo weighs his options, vacillating between telling you the truth or spewing a lie. the words seem to spill out of his mouth before he can even think about whether or not to say them, a trend he notices is extremely common whenever he's in your presence. "because you've ruined my life."

okay, so the truth it is.

your eyes widen in hurt when you take in his words, and it takes everything you have to not burst into tears on the spot. "oh, i see."

"wait," gojo says, scrambling to fix the situation that just keeps getting worse and worse with everything he says or does. "that's not what i meant."

"then what did you mean?" you ask sharply, your eyes narrowing slightly as you stare him down.

"what i mean is that i think i love you," he says in a rush, ignoring the way your eyes widen in surprise at his admission. he doesn't give you the chance to respond, too focused on saying everything that's been building up for the past decade before he gets cold feet. "you've ruined my life, you know? it's been ten years but it's damn near impossible to get over you. my heart still feels as heavy as it did the day you let, maybe even heavier, and i threw away your number because i didn't see any benefit in reaching out to you. why would i torture myself by keeping in contact with you when i belong to the world you wanted to leave behind?"

"i wanted to leave the jujutsu world behind," you interject softly, taking a hesitant step towards gojo before coming to a stop. "that doesn't mean i wanted to leave gojo satoru behind."

"oh," gojo breathes. he wonders if you can hear how loud his heart is beating in his chest, and he decides that maybe he doesn't care. "does that mean that—"

"i liked you?" you interrupt, nodding your head softly. "or like, i guess. i agree, ten years isn't enough to get over you."

"i was talking about you," gojo mumbles dumbly, earning a shrug in response from you. a loud crash sounds from the direction of the room you had left nanami in, and you give gojo a hesitant look before motioning in the direction of the noise.

"i should probably go and check that out," you say quietly, a smile twitching at the corners of your lips. "y'know, make sure that nanami is okay."

"um, yeah. yeah that sounds reasonable," gojo says, his mind still focused on your impromptu confession.

"i don't think this conversation is over yet," you continue, breathing out a laugh when gojo nods in agreement. he jumps slightly when you take his hand in yours, slipping a piece of paper into in before tugging him down to press a kiss to his cheek. "let me know when you're free, yeah? maybe we can get dinner or something and talk."

"are you asking me out on a date?" he asks cheekily, doing his best to compose himself.

"maybe i am," you say slyly, squeezing his hand once before letting go. you turn to walk down the hall, only pausing to look at him over your shoulder once before you turn the corner. "don't lose my number this time, okay?"

gojo chuckles at your words, nodding in agreement as he gives you a lazy salute. "i wouldn't dream of it."

it isn't until you're out of sight that gojo realizes his heart feels the lightest that it's ever felt in years, and he finds himself once again wondering when you had gotten the chance to write the note.

reblogs are appreciated <3 ty for reading !!

[roboyomo]

god GOD amor and kenix make me sick,,,,. something about how much they overlap as characters and as people in general and how both of them, due to their surrounding situation, have given up on resisting. Both being connected through acceptance as a concept.

the fact that there was A possibility. where they could've bonded and gotten along as family like intended if only it wasn't for the circumstances. You Know. kenix having completely separate goals planned that he couldn't control anymore. Which never accounted for the wellbeing of his coworkers. Now both of them refuse to speak up until it is too late. far too late to even speak or apologize. only leaving the burdening silence in the room

[frmisnow]

play pretend ! ₊⟡⋆ nsfw.

the premise of fake dating your best friend, for just a weekend, is hilarous.. and scary. but what happens after is even scarier.. it's just play pretend right?

warnings / includes — sex, heavy fwb themes, bit of angst

shame coated you when you woke up in one of the guest rooms, carefully placed onto the bed at about 3am by no other then jungkook while you were dead hungover. pure rotten shame rests in your cheeks, paints them red when you say bye to his family a few hours later as jungkook couldn't quite even look at you.

everything about him was different. the way he moved around you, the way he avoided looking directly at you. hell, even his voice sounded quieter, less confident, like he didn’t know what to do either.

something had changed him, for the worse.

and it was all your damn fault.

you had thought the car ride would give you both time to defrost, pretend that whatever happened the night earlier did in fact not happen, crack some jokes but to no avail — long, defening silence.

silence and shame don't go well together, the color they create on the canvas of yours, it soaked through you. stayed with you for the next five days, it's the color of the message you send him at 11 pm on saturday, asking him how he was doing.

it's the ugly color of the 'delivered' button that stays there for the following two days.

the dress you wear to the next party is bright, anything to drown out the guilt that was eating you alive.

the music is loud, and so are you. laughing a little too hard, moving a little too close to anyone who shows you attention. you take another sip of whatever is in your cup, the liquid burning its way down your throat but dulling the ache in your chest.

and then there’s him.

you don’t see Jungkook immediately, but you feel him before your eyes catch his across the room. you feel the way the air shifts, the way your stomach churns when you notice the familiar set of his jaw, the way his eyes flicker toward you.

you almost drop your drink.

because it feels like a candid flashback of that night—only now it’s all so different. why did things have to be so complicated?

you’re pressed against some guy you barely know, his lips grazing your neck in a way that should distract you. you’ve been letting it happen, letting him flirt, letting his hands wander because it’s easier than thinking about the mess you left unresolved.

but then there’s jungkook. he stands on the other side, the neon light painting his face; his look wasn't judging. maybe light disappointment but more observing then anything, really. and it reminded you of how you used to stare at him whenever he was going after various girls at these exact sorts of parties.

it makes you sick, makes the unfamilar hands on your body feel foul and uninviting, it's not the fire burning through you like it had that night, it's cold ice, slowly creeping through your veins, making it's way to your brain.

said ice whispers things you don't want to hear, reminds you of things you don't want to think about.

"fuck, i think i like you."

you run of upstairs to the nearest balcony, the house was familar one of your mutual friends', this place was where you used to play spin the damn bottle in high school. now it feels haunted, just as univiting as the guy's hands felt a few minutes ago, why did everything feel so distant now? first jungkook, now everything else. why was it so consuming?

you light up a cigarette, you didn't usually smoke but you wanted to feel that fire again, the warmth, the pure need from a week ago. you regreted not having fucked the guy because you were sure he could've made you forget for longer then this cig could.

“thought I might find you here,” he says behind you, kneeling next to you yet keeping a safe distance, his voice low and cautious.

"you shouldn't have," you respond coldly, because anger is a better emotion to feel then regret and you had plenty things to be frustrated about, "you've been avoiding me for a whole week, don't pretend like you give a fuck." you don't meet his eyes, just take another drag.

but you see him flinch in the corner of your eye. great, the guilt sits in you once again.

he shifts slightly, and you can feel the tension radiating off him , “i know I’ve been a jerk, but it’s not that simple—”

“then make it simple.” your voice is sharper than you intended, but the hurt has festered for too long. you finally turn to face him, “i need to know what you want. because this? whatever this is? it’s fucking misery.”

the words hang heavily in the air, and for a moment, silence stretches between you. jungkook looks like he’s grappling with his thoughts, the tension in his body palpable. then, slowly, he closes the distance between you, his eyes softening as he cups your face in his hands.

“can I kiss you?” he asks, his voice a whisper, as if the question itself is laced with vulnerability.

you nod, and the moment your lips touch, it’s like everything else fades away. the kiss starts soft, gentle, as if he’s savoring the moment, and you can feel your heart begin to race.

it's nothing like the previous fire you had wished to experience earlier, it's delicate warming sunlight, brushing over your skin, washing away the hideous color that had built over the last few days.

“friends with benefits,” he murmurs against your lips, his breath hot and sweet. “we get to have this-” he kisses you again, slow and lingering, “—without the pressure of expectations.”

“expectations?” you echo, your mind racing as you try to process his words.

“yeah,” he replies, his lips brushing against yours, each touch sending shivers down your spine. “we can enjoy each other without worrying about where it’s going. just... pure fun.” his hands toy with the hem of your dress, before returning your gaze.

time slips quick, it all feels so raw, so different from that night yet all so much better.

his hands grip your thighs, pulling you closer, driving deep inside you with a primal urgency. you can feel the way he fills you, stretching you perfectly. you're so glad you aren't drunk, that you'll remember this in the morning and the day after.

you claw at his back, nails digging in, urging him on, needing more, wanting all of him. and he curses, runs his mouth like the talkative brat you knew he always was, degrades you one second, tentatively kisses your cheeks the next.

his hands rest on your tighs as he kisses along your clit once again, sweet, real. taunts you 'for the mess you made on your friend's coach' but he doesn't give you time to feel guilty, just starts nuzzling his face back into your pussy, licking along.

no, jungkook will never make you feel the same guilt again. you're sure of it, well — not that you could really properly think under these conditions anyway.

[bunnys-kisses]

Hi bunny!! Got a Halloween special request here!!

May I have a chex-mix and mummy hand pies with a side of haunted lemonade and white claw served by Franco Colapinto, please?💕💕

halloween bakery - bakery menu

the spooky menu is still up till nov 2nd! there are tons of spooky prompts for you to choose from! thank you to those who have submitted, i'll be working on them ASAP in the lead up to halloween!! thank you and i hope you love this! i'm surprised by how much people have loved my colapinto fics since i started posting them! so thank you <3

chex-mix: "did you go as a whore this year, or did you just forget a costume?" + mummy hand pies: "be careful of the full moon!" + haunted lemonade: size difference/kink + white claw: slutty costumes served by franco colapinto (formula one)!!

tags: smut/pwp, size difference/kink, slutty costumes, couples costumes (red riding hood & wolf),

franco waited for you to get ready for the halloween party you two were attending. the two of you were out in austin for the grand prix weekend and got roped into an early halloween party.

he leaned up against the wall near the bathroom and knocked on the door, "are you almost done, amor? did you get stuck in the costume?"

you laughed on the other side of the door, "you think so low of me, honey." you opened the door and franco caught sight of what you were wearing.

franco's eyes went wide at the sight of you. oh, there was no way you were leaving the hotel room like that.

"what happened to the other costume?" he asked as he held onto the doorway to the bathroom and leaned in towards you. he remembered it vividly, it was still a red riding hood costume, but it covered a fair bit, "did you want go as a whore this year, or did you just forget the costume?"

you replied, "it was too hot for austin, so while you were on the track. i went out and got something else. i mean, we still match." you didn't see the problem with it. as if you didn't look like you were doing a porn shoot in an hour.

he raised his eyebrows, "amor. c'mon." he gestured, "i was supposed to be the big bad wolf. the whole, 'be careful of the full moon, little red', and you were supposed to be a little more... covered up." he picked at a stray strand of thread for the costume. it wasn't even sewn right.

"it's fine, honey." you tried to move past him to get your heels on. but franco took you by the waist and pressed your backside up against him.

he bent up against you and kissed at an exposed part of your neck. he kept his arms around you tightly and said in a soft time, "you don't get it, my love. you look like a whore, and i hold you in higher regard than that. i don't want others getting the wrong idea about you." he rubbed the front of his jeans up against your backside.

"yet you're turned on by it." you remarked then moaned as he pressed further against you. you whimpered a little and he felt a shudder through him.

"of course, but i'm your boyfriend." he pressed you further to him. showing off his size and strength compared to you. he would've made a good big bad wolf if he wasn't so painfully hard for how scantily dressed you were.

"well, i have nothing else to wear." you remarked. and then a gasp left your lips when franco tore the skirt right at the seam.

he remarked, "you could've bought something a little more expensive." then let the fabric fall to the floor. he then snaked his hand between your legs and rubbed your slit over your panties.

you looked like a whore as he pleasured you and eventually he grabbed you to bring you to the bed. you ended up on it and he got everything else off of you. you tried to joke, "my what big teeth you have."

he grabbed you by the hips and bent you almost in half. you sticky slit on display for him. he replied, "i wouldn't be worried about my teeth, amor." then rubbed his barely clothed cock against your slit. your wetness stained the front of his dark blue briefs.

you swallowed, you knew franco was big. he had always been big compared to you. when you gave him your virginity, he spent an hour fingering you so he wouldn't bruise you. but tonight he knew that tonight he didn't care if he bruised up your insides.

he got his t-shirt off and his briefs, both of you were naked as franco kept you bent and your pussy on display for him. he felt a thrill of excitement run through him at the sight of you.

he sank his cock into you as he kept you in the mating press and you felt excitement run through you. your brain went numb for a moment as you felt the pleasure course through your body. it was hot, painfully hot. franco did things to you that you never thought anyone else could do. he drove you mad and made you hot all over.

"franco, fuck." you shifted a little bit. it was a bit of a painful position, your knees were to your chin as he fucked into you without much softness. he felt the zap of possessiveness through him.

he wasn't going to lat his beloved girlfriend dress like that for halloween. unless it was in the bedroom where no prying eyes could see. you could still dress nice for halloween, but you didn't need to show off almost every inch of skin.

"see, if you wanted to excite me. then you didn't have to buy a costume. i think the best thing you can wear for me is nothing. maybe my number on your back, but other than that. i want you in nothing. i want all your clothes on the floor while i fuck you. you're mine, amor. all mine."

his words excited you, you knew that he turned you on greatly. and you did the same for him. even if you didn't know, the statement was made clear by how hard he fucked you.

in the lavish hotel room in austin, the high of a decent weekend followed by a party that you were now late for. he continued to thrust against you, he could feel his pounding heartbeat in your ears as he made a pretty mess of you sweet pussy. you wouldn't second guess how he felt about you by how he made you feel.

your larger boyfriend with his heavy cock made you feel like you were on cloud nine. for a brief moment you thought about not going to the party. you could stay in the hotel room and see how many times you could do it before you were simply too exhausted.

he held onto your hips as he continued to fuck you. the pace was feverish. he groaned, "you look perfect. better than in that costume." he pressed further into you and you felt excitement race through you. you felt hot all over and as did he.

franco excited you in sexual ways that you never thought were possible. he was the kind of lover that brought out parts of you never thought were possible. before you met, you never thought about filming yourself pleasuring yourself. but with the distance between you two for so long, he eventually had a vast collection of photos and videos.

everything from you pleasuring yourself with a toy, to showing off your nude body to him for the camera. and of course, softer, more tender moments. like you in his clothes and wearing the bracelet he gifted you when he signed to formula one.

currently that bracelet looked nice on your wrist while you held onto the white covers under you. franco groaned as he continued to fuck you with heavy thrusts. he felt just as excited as you did. he knew he wasn't going to last long.

"shit. franco." you groaned as you squirmed a little bit which only prompted franco to press further into you. have you in a proper press as his cock moved in and out of you with a feverish pace.

you were the first to cum, you clawed at the sheets. no proper words left you lips, but you did made a sweet moaning noise that sent shocks through franco as he continued to batter your sweet cunt. it was all so hot and it made the driver only fuck you harder. he didn't last long much after, he made sure every inch was inside of you as he finished inside of you with a heated groan.

his pace stopped and the you two looked at one another. franco dropped your hips and pulled one another into a heated kiss. hands traveled across each other's heated bodies.

"you're so fucking hot." he groaned.

when he laid out next to you, he draped an arm across your chest and leaned in to kiss and suck at the nape of your neck. you knew he was decorating you with his marks. and that were was no concealer in the world that would cover the dark marks on your skin.

-

you both attended the party. you went last minute as a williams racing fan. which wasn't hard, you just raided franco's closet. the shirt was baggier on you and the sleeve of the t-shirt went to your elbows. the best detail of your costume was the massive hickey he left on you.

he simply said about the matter, "ah well, you'll just be a fan who got lucky tonight." <3

[cum-allergy]

morning newspaper