#can't breathe whenever you're gone

[priyal-d123]

A Dead Poet's Cry

I saw this girl the other day

And it felt like I had seen her before

As if I'd known her somewhere in some way

She smiled when she saw me

And I knew that's what she did for everyone

That was the thing about her,

She loved smiles; it reminded her of battles won

But there was something wrong

She knew I could see it too

So she wore that smile further

But just for a moment there, it faltered

And just for a moment then, I could see through

I saw it all in front of me then; laid bare

How far she'd loved and how bad shed lost

How much she'd had to suffer, when all she'd done was care

I felt broken then, as if I were the one who'd been betrayed

I felt hurt on her behalf

I couldn't understand who would do this to someone

Who didn't deserve to cry, but to laugh

I felt angered ar that someone

And I think I knew who

And I wanted to hold her, and tell her

'don't leave, I still love you'

Something told me that's what she wanted to hear too

Just once, not for me or anyone else, but for THAT person to care

To whisper, 'don't worry, I'm not going anywhere'

I reached out; to be that person for her, i tried

But the closer I got, the worse, for the loss, she cried

They say she wears her grief well

Or is it the other way around?

Cause that's what they'd taught her to do

To bear it all, and yet, not make a sound

She assured me; 'its fine' she said

Even though it was clearly not

My heart hurt to see her

Waiting for someone who'd succumbed her to this rot

And I wondered if that's what love was

I'd never believed in it; now I detested it even more so

Because it has killed her alive

And even still refused to let her let go

I pleaded her to forget; to somehow just live

But she just shook her head sadly

And I knew there was nothing left in her to give

I saw it slipping

Her facade giving away

And I saw what once was beautiful

Fading with people who didn't stay

What justice is this, I asked

I wondered why she so stubbornly held on

There came that smile again, full of pain and loss,

And something told me, she's never accept they're gone

Her eyes dimmed then

And her smile finally dropped

Tears rushed to fill her eyes to the brim

And my heart just stopped

And she stared back at me

The girl behind the glass

Her hope had been the end of her

Her innocence, her love, her smile, now gone

Lost somewhere in the blur

[nezuscribe]

it's been three weeks since arranged!gojo, your husband, the man you're growing to care deeply for, told you he'd be back.

there was some dispute he needed to oversee with the eastern tribes, something about the land that one was fighting for, but he promised, promised, it wouldn't take over a week to settle.

now it's been nearly a month, and there has not been a single word from him.

your maids told you this was normal, but you didn't miss how they spoke in hushed tones, their brows furrowed nervously whenever the name gojo came up.

you can't sleep in his bed, the smell of him overtaking your senses and making you go insane. you go back to your old room, huffing as you turn around each night, not able to sleep. other times you'd pace the floors, picking at your nails until they bled, wondering about what could've happened, not able to shake off your last moments with him whenever you got to thinking too hard.

"i'll be back," he had murmured in your hair, cradling you close to his chest as he said his goodbyes. his strong arms caged you in, and you had no room to fight him off as you tried to nod.

"bring back some eastern sugar," you said, "i've heard it's good for pies," your words were muffled, trying to cheer up the mood. you heard him laugh, his chest rumbling a little bit, but there was a hint of anxiety laced in it.

"i'll miss you," gojo finally whispered, his men in the background shouting for the others to hurry up.

"i know," you mumbled, craning your head to look up at him, trying to crack a smile that just came out wobbly, "but i won't tell you i missed you till you come back."

he smiled, rolling his eyes as his thumb ran up and down your cheek.

"i promise i will."

well now it's four weeks later and you can't sleep at night, your past words haunting you, wondering if you should've just told him what he wanted to hear in case...

but a couple nights later, when you're sitting at your desk, looking out the window, you hear it.

the clacking of horse hoofs, their scattered neighs.

you almost think you've gone delirious from sleep deprivation, rubbing at your eyes as you stumble closer to the windowsill, squinting your eyes as you look in the dark.

but you see the distant torch, the way it's getting closer and closer to the estate.

you have no care for modesty, pulling a thin robe over your body as you run out of your door, nearly falling down the stairs as you skip every other one, your bare feet hitting the stone with such force that you nearly break it.

the maids and servants around you are bustling to get ready for their return, but you don't care, weaving your way through their bodies as you run out through the entrance. you can feel your feet getting scraped up by the rocks, the cold autumn wind biting at your barely clad skin, but you feel like you're not moving fast enough.

his horse is the first one you see, leading the group of tired and aching men. his black stallion is dark as the night itself, and you doubt he can see you.

but gojo does, and when his eyes find the shadow of your body from across the field he's abandoning formation, his feet kicking the side of the horse to make it go faster.

it's rushed, and the closer he gets the more you can see the damage on his body. the bandages around his arms, the ones that peek out from his tunic on his shoulder. his face is littered with scrapes and bruises, but his smile is blinding.

you run to meet him, watching as he mounts off of the animal, his strong arms throwing themselves around you are nearly crushing and almost makes you stumble backward if not for his support.

there's a heavy silence that follows, and you're glad that his men take the hint to go another way, knowing the dangers of leaving you two out alone on a field.

you can't breathe, your arms so tight around his neck that you're worried you might be choking him. the way he lifts you to get you closer to him would make your body heat up if not for the fact that you know he needs you to be almost one with him.

"i thought you died," you say bluntly, your words said wetly into his neck, your scattered tears wetting his skin.

"i know," gojo murmurs, feeling like he can finally breathe for the first time in a month.

he finds your lips in a messy kiss, biting at your plush skin as you moan, feeling like if he didn't have you near to him he'd probably die. he smells your lavender oil dotted on your neck, the lingering sweetness on your lips from something you probably baked to help with your stress.

his hands lift you up further by your hips, his strength, despite his injuries, still unbridled as you wrap your legs around his waist, your fingers weaving into his snow-white locks as you hear him mumble curses beneath you.

"i missed you," you say against his lips, his feverish kisses driving you to madness. the way you say it with a choked-out sob, your tears mixing with his own.

gojo whines, biting at your neck as he tries to hide his face away, the vulnerability that you bring out of him is something that even his enemies would probably gawk over.

"i promised i'd come back," his voice is nearly gone with the way he says it in between his sloppy kisses on your neck, tugging at the fabric that hides the bareness of your chest with his teeth.

you crane your head to look at him, hitting the back of his head gently with an angered look.

"three weeks late," you reprimand him, almost reveling in the stricken and kicked look he gives you with those eyes.

he goes to say something but stops, shuffling your weight onto one of his arms (he had the right to brag about his strength), and rummages around one of the pockets of his trousers, pulling out a bag as he waves it in front of your face.

you gasp, suddenly climbing off of him as you turn it around with your fingers. he pouts at the fact that you detached from him, trying to wrap his arms around your waist to haul you back up.

"is this...?" you look up at him, new tears sprouting in your eyes as you wail, almost dramatically as your head hits his chest with a thump, pulling him into another hug as you seem to sob louder from when you first saw him.

"you cry more over the sugar than me?" he mutters petulantly, his hand still cradling the back of your head as you just limply stand there.

"don't ever leave again." you bite out, pinching his back as he yelps, but still leaving a searing kiss on the side of your face.

"i won't...my lady," he whispers teasingly, and this time, his promise is undying. he'd be a stupid man if he ever willing left this again.

fuck those state affairs. gojo would rather be home with his wife, watching her bake as she scolds him for eating her batter.

[sunsburns]

imagine asking wade if he still likes you when he’s literally inside you LMAOOO I just know he’d be so flabbergasted

i know a normal people fan when i see one (18+, fluff)

but jokes aside, and dicks inside, wade would likely get whiplash; his head turning so fast he can hear a crack in his neck, staring at you like you're crazy because just seconds ago you'd been running your gentle hands over his skin. your fingers brush against the divots of his scarred skin, your cheek pressed to his chest, humming softly, close enough that your lashes tickle whenever you blink.

wade's a little out of breath, sticky with sweat, and miraculously, rendered speechless. to others, a rarity, but with you, while still rare, is more frequent, especially after sex.

sure, he drops a joke or two, but there is a window where wade likes to sit there, holding you, skin against skin, in silence; listening to the sounds of your shaky breaths as you come down from your high, the sounds of the bedsheets ruffling with slow movements from the both of you, even the sounds of the old crackly fan on his ceiling.

and so, in that small window of silence, the two of you lay there in a warm embrace, listening to each other's heartbeats as wade's dick slowly softens inside you.

but then that small window starts to close, the silence breaking with you. you shift, turning to press your chin against wade's chest while looking up at him, "hey," you whisper, a smile growing against your lips.

"hi," he whispers back to you, but he continues to stare at the window, watching the soft light of the rising sun peeking in through the white lace curtains you picked out, a part of you in the dingy apartment he shared with blind al.

"we've officially gone at it all night. fucking like rabbits. and i can't believe i'm saying this but, i'm fucking spent. i might need a few weeks to recover. i asked for a bone and you threw a whole skeleton at me, peanut."

you snort, rolling your eyes, "yeah, right."

"okay, fine, a week is too long." wade hums, he finds your hair and runs his hand over it, twirling a strand around his finger, "i'll be good as new by tonight or at least by the time you scroll to read another fic of me, of course."

you're still staring at him, and wade, ever the observant, notices. he shifts, sits up, holds onto your waist, and brings you up with him. you have to bite your tongue to hold back a moan, sensitive to the way he's touching you, the way his dick keeps you full.

wade raises his brows (or at least, where his brows would be), "what? is there something on my face? i know i'm ugly but i thought we were past that. your staring is making me a little self conscious, sweetbuns."

"wade?"

"yes, cupcake?"

"do you like me?"

"what-?" he stares at you, eyes wide and nearly popping out of his head. "do i- what? what the fuck kind of stupid ass fuck ass question is that? you think i don't like you? we literally fucked all night. literally did every position in the book. i let you peg me! you might be the only person on earth that matches my freak-"

"yeah, i know but-"

"bitch, i'm literally still inside you."

that's when you can't help but laugh, grinning against his neck when he wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer. you love the way his body emits warmth, and you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer like you want to live inside his skin.

wade holds you, his cheek pressing against the top of your head. and he groans loudly when you say, "you never answered my question."

"oh my god," he huffs dramatically, "of course i fucking like you. like no shit."

"okay, great. i was just making sure."

[tittiesnhrtz]

ghostface!ellie x reader

minors & men dni , fingering, cunnilingus, knife play, nipple play, overstim

it's a chilly october night, the leaves are still vibrant with autumn hues outside your window. a crisp breeze weaves through the trees outside, sending a gentle rustle through the branches. the faint scent of vanilla, pumpkin spice and cinnamon hangs in the air inside your home, wrapping all the furniture and the trinkets like a shroud. you’re sitting on your sage couch, wrapped in a cozy crocheted sweater, wearing loose shorts and leg warmers to keep your feet warm on the cold tiles beneath you. your parents are away for a few days at your grandma's, with her health getting worse, it's been hard for her to take care of herself.

the glow from the TV feels distant now, the reporter’s voice filling the otherwise silent room. it’s the same grim news cycle: more bodies found, more gruesome and grotesque details of the dead bodies that should make your skin crawl and erupt with goosebumps. but honestly? you’re just tired. tired of the stories and the police coming up empty.

two of your friends from your friend group are dead, and what'd they have in common? you dated them both at some point. this detail shouldn't probably be necessary or even worth dwelling on, but considering how almost everyone who's either flirted with you or gone on a date with you has no doubt ended up dead—killed by the infamous ghostface himself.

yes, a him. that's what mostly everyone believes but you're somehow sure it's not a man. the way ghostface toys with his victims, the blackmail and emotional mind games—it all feels too calculated, too clever to be the work of a man. not that you think men are stupid, but something about this whole situation just feels... off.

the sound of the doorbell jolts you out of your thoughts. ellie, your best friend, is supposed to be here any minute. she's been your rock through the whole ghostface ordeal. and you think you might be catching feelings for her. her stupid puns and that goofy smile plastered on her face whenever she'd talk about space, dinosaurs, comic books or anything that interested her really, got to you at some point.

with a sigh, you push yourself off the cozy couch, and shuffle over to the door. but when you swing it open, what should've been ellie on the other side is just empty air. that’s strange. you step outside, scanning the porch and the yard, half-expecting to see some kids laughing at their ding-dong ditch prank. instead, you’re hit with a chill as a dark figure catches your eye. a ghostface mask. your heart drops. but before you can even process what you just saw, it vanishes into the shadows.

you stumble back inside and lock the door, but then you hear it—a crash from the kitchen. a china dish smashing to the floor. fuck, what if this is it? what if you’re ghostface’s next target? with a tentative breath, you step inside the kitchen, holding a lamp, ready to strike. except, it's not ghostface, it's just ellie, standing there with a sheepish smile on her face.

"fuck- i thought you were-" you start, your voice trailing off as the memory of the figure outside flashes in your mind.

"i'm sorry, jus' thought i'd surprise you and come in through the back." she explains, motioning toward the kitchen door, which was slightly ajar. "you should seriously learn to lock your doors."

her gaze then drops to the shards scattered across the kitchen floor, the delicate china dish now a jumbled mess of white and pastel blooms. "sorry 'bout that." she mutters, rubbing the back of her neck.

you let out a breath, feeling a mix of relief and irritation. lowering the lamp, you speak. "next time, just ring the doorbell?”

ellie grins. "yeah, sorry."

"whatever, just help me clean this mess." you motion to the mess on the white and black kitchen tiles.

"yep."

you can't stay mad at ellie and it's not the first time she's done something stupid like this.

𓍯𓂃

after what felt like an eternity of cleaning up the mess, you and ellie finally collapse onto your bed, grateful for the distraction of a movie. the small TV on the cabinet across the room flickers to life, and the eerie sounds of SAW II fill the space. you can feel ellie’s presence beside you—she’s sitting awfully close, her warmth radiating against your side. you steal a glance at her, and to your surprise, you catch her gulping, almost instinctively, not once, but three times already. though you're not sure if it's because of the proximity or the gore-y scenes displaying on the screen.

“not a fan of gore movies?”

she chuckles nervously, her eyes glued to the screen. “not exactly in love with the idea of people torturing each other.”  a hint of laughter in her voice, but you can sense something else underneath. something you pass off as anxiety.

you turn your attention back to the movie, but it’s hard to concentrate when you can feel the heat radiating from her. the scene on the screen darkens, and the tension builds as the characters navigate their terrifying predicament. you can’t help but steal another glance at ellie, who’s now looking directly at you.

the characters on the screen scream in despair, but you hardly register it. instead, your focus is drawn to the way her tongue glides over her plump pink lips. and god you want to kiss her badly, to taste the sweetness of her lips.

you don't miss the way her eyes dart down to your lips or the way her chest rises and falls with each breath. you take a breath, steeling yourself, and decide to be bold. you lean in slightly, heart pounding as you gauge her reaction. the air is tense, and you can see her breath hitch, taking that as an invitation, you close the gap.

her lips are slightly cracked but surprisingly soft. she makes a noise against your lips, hands gliding up to rest against your hips, but then they slowly start to wander. under your sweater, from your hips to your waist. ellie can’t help how warm her hands feel against your skin, how smooth, there’s not even callouses on them like hers. the kiss is a bit hungry and impatient, her tongue licking the seam of your lips. your hands move from your lap to cup her face as you part your lips.

the unexpected warmth of her tongue against your cheek sends a shiver down your spine, silencing the whirlwind of thoughts that had been racing through your mind. it’s a ticklish sensation, one that catches you off guard. you let out a small gasp which is muffled into her mouth. ellie continues to explore, her tongue tracing the soft contours of your cheek as if she’s savoring every little bump and curve. there’s a clumsiness to it, an awkwardness that feels endearing rather than off-putting.

when you pull away, a delicate string of saliva connects your lips. your cheeks heat up as you notice the drool glistening in her chin, a sight that is enough to make your panties wet. you lean in and lick the drool off of her, and you can feel her tense up, her hands on your waist squeezing gently. the only source of light is from the TV, and it casts shadows over both of your bodies, the screen and the voices of the characters now completely forgotten. you can feel her hands move from your waist and she’s suddenly cupping your breasts over your bra.

“is this okay?” her thumb traces circles over the soft mounds, staring at you for an answer.

you nod in return and help her remove your sweater and your bra, tossing it somewhere in the darkness. her gaze flicks down to your breasts and for awhile, she just stares. and then a quiet curse follows. her hands move to knead your breasts, watching the skin closely. then, she takes a nipple between her fingers and gently pinches it, watching your every reaction. her mouth latches onto your other breast, her tongue darting out to swirl around it and suck the hardened nub as she pleases, the soft symphony of your quiet noises echoing in the night.

you arch your back, pushing your breasts further into her mouth. she alternates between both of them, giving them both equal attention. her mouth goes dry and she has to pull away with a pop, her green eyes searching your own.

“i wanna feel you.”

her breath hitches and before she knows it, your hands are on the waist band of her jeans, fingers looping into her brown belt. her eyes darken with desire as she looks at you.

“yeah, baby?” she exhales.

the nickname makes your cunt tighten around nothing and you're hastily unbuckling her belt and tossing it away. your fingers work to unbutton her jeans and you slip a hand inside. she lets out a gentle groan as your teeth bite into the flesh of her neck. you leave a series of bruising kisses in their wake as your palm comes into contact with her boxers. to your surprise, she's soaking wet. you almost want to tease her but your desire prevails over it and you're slipping your fingers into her boxers, tracing her slick folds. she's making the prettiest noises too, already falling apart under your touch. but little did you know, she's spent years dreaming of this moment. paintings and drawings of you hidden under her bed, along with the candid pictures that she oh so eagerly waits to get off to every night.

"say you want me."

her breathing is unsteady as she opens her mouth to speak. "fuck." she grunts softly and leans her head into your shoulder. "i want you, baby. please."

her pathetic begging and whines are enough for you to give in, her cunt throbbing as your fingers rub her slick along it. it greedily sucks in your digit as you slowly add it. she feels ecstatic because this isn't a dream anymore, it's real. you add another digit, eliciting a pornographic moan from her. it isn't long until your fingers are curling around her g-spot and her walls are squelching around them.

""m close..s-so close."

"i know. just cum for me, yeah?" you coo into her ear before nipping at the skin just below her ear. and she does exactly that, letting out a strangled sob as her body gets the release she's been chasing for. you take your fingers out of her boxers and suck them clean. ellie still has her eyes shut and her head against your shoulder but she can hear the way your mouth wraps around your fingers and sucks her juices off. she's pulling away and looking at you.

and then, she's guiding you down to lay on the bed, lifting your hips up to remove your shorts until you're splayed in just your cotton panties and leg warmers in front of her. she almost moans at the sight.

"you're so-" she starts, but cuts herself off. leaning down to hover over you and planting a kiss on your temple, on your cheek and one on your collarbone. one of her hands starts rubbing the inside of your thigh as she leans in and kisses you, sloppily. her hand comes to rub your clothed cunt and you feel her muffled moan inside your mouth, as you swallow the noise. she pulls back to look down at you.

"look how wet." she smirks and you almost regret not teasing her about her own drenched underwear.

you can only whimper and lift your hips up in return as her hands hook under the waistband of your underwear and pull it off of you.

"god, so gorgeous and so wet....all for me." she murmurs, more to herself than you. her pupils are blown wide, lips parted as she moves your legs up and pushes them apart. your hands find purchase on her ass beneath her flannel as she mouths at the skin of your neck like it's her hobby. as you squeeze her jeans-clothed ass, you swear you feel an outline of something resembling a... knife. in her back pocket. you take the object out and it's indeed a knife. ellie was in a daze to notice or feel what you were doing— to busy enjoying your skin after only having imagined what it must have felt like in her dreams. your voice, however, causes her to look up from your neck. you dangle the knife in front of her.

"..why do you have a knife?"

her eyes widen a fraction before she smirks and takes the knife from you. "protection. why else?" she answers like you were dumb to even ask the question in the first place. “don’t wanna risk getting killed with ghostface on the loose.”

a pause. "but...it could come handy for other things." she glides the knife down your clavicle to your breasts, the hitching of your breath only serving to encourage her. she presses it down against one of your nipples before moving it lower— where you're aching for her the most.

the cold blade presses against your puffy clit and you moan loudly. "ellie..."

"shh." she coos, grinning down at you, almost sinisterly. she pushes it further against the bundle of nerves, making you whimper. "i need-" she cuts you off by lining the knife along your delicate entrance, you let out a cry and your eyes widen in fear and shock. she seems to notice it and pulls the knife away, but not before gliding it up and down your folds.

"i'm not gonna hurt you, baby." the words roll of her tongue like honey and you feel bad for fearing her in the first place. she places the knife beside you on the sheets and moves to place herself in between your legs. a couple of kisses to your clit before she's greedily licking at your pussy. tongue moving at a relentless pace against your clit as her hands come up to grope your tits. moans fall out of your lips like a prayer and she pushes her tongue inside your cunt before pulling back and lapping away at your juices. you're awfully close and she knows it, she can sense it by the way you're arching your back and gripping the sheets, your knuckles almost white.

"cum on my face, pretty girl." her words vibrate against your clit, causing you to moan out her name.

that elicits a moan from ellie, herself. something stirs in her, hearing you moan her name out like that. and she inserts two fingers into your sopping cunt. curling them graciously against your g-spot, hitting it over and over again as her mouth does the same to your clit.

"ellie..i can't..fuck-" your final cry of pleasure, reverberates through her body. she removes her fingers but keeps lapping at your pussy even after you cum. your weak cries do nothing to pull her away. her grip on your thighs tighten and she pushes them apart from closing. you squirm and squeak due to the overstimulation, nudging her away with all your force, but it's too weak. she doesn't seem too keen on stopping, a hand pushing down on your stomach to stop you from squirming.

"s-stop." it isn't until that word comes out of your mouth that she stops and pulls away to look at your wrecked form. cheeks flush and hair tousled. you don't know how much it affects her. you never do.

"sorry, got too carried away." she murmurs. but she's anything but sorry. after helping you lay your head down on the pillow, she pulls the covers up your body. she can tell she's tired you out by the way your eyes are half lidded and your limbs look sore. she soothes you by wrapping her arms around you, intertwining your hands, and placing a kiss on your forehead. eventually, you drift asleep.

the longer she looks at you, the world outside fades further into obscurity. you, who's sleeping blissfully, completely unaware of the fact that the knife that was pressing against your clit a few minutes ago was the same knife that she used to brutally stab and dismember the body of a classmate who dared flirt with you. you, who's probably having sweet dreams while she has to go and take care of the unconscious body of the guy who rang your doorbell this very night.

this is my first time writing smut or anything close to a fan fic!! so if you see any mistakes js ignore it :3

[sidekick-hero]

“Hey, have you seen Harrington? Guy’s totally wasted. Can't even stand. Tried to get up, fell down like a goddamn turtle. Garrison's over there throwing chips at him. It’s hysterical, you gotta check this out, man.”

The upside to being the guy everyone calls ‘the Freak’—the guy no one wants to talk to unless they’re looking to buy—is that Eddie can disappear whenever he wants. And tonight, he’s been in full stealth mode, almost ghost-like in the way he drifts through the shadows of this overcrowded house party. When he’s not standing on lunch tables at school, giving speeches, or taunting the assholes who think they run the place, Eddie finds that people tend to forget he’s even there.

Which makes it real easy to hear all kinds of things he probably shouldn’t. Not that Carver's announcement is any kind of secret, not with the way he’s broadcasting it to the entire room. Ever since Harrington lost his King Steve status, the rest of the jock squad has been scrambling to claw their way to the top. It’s desperate. Pathetic, really, if you ask him. But no one’s ever asking Eddie for his opinion.

He should get out of here. Most of his stash is gone, and it’s getting late. There’s leftover mac and cheese in the fridge with his name on it, and if he bolts now, he might just catch the midnight rerun of The Thing.

Eddie tries to ignore the mental image of Harrington—Steve, Steve—sprawled out on that grimy carpet, covered in crumbs and dirt, drenched in stale beer. He must feel defenseless. The kind of defenseless that Eddie knows too well, the kind that gets you laughed at, or worse. But just because Harrington buys a dime bag off him every week doesn’t mean they’re friends. Even if they’ve had a few surprisingly not-awful conversations. Even if Steve’s actually kind of funny for a rich kid, for a jock.

There’s no reason for Eddie to care about what’s happening to Steve Harrington, just like Steve never cared about him.

So why the hell are his feet carrying him toward the living room instead of the back door? Why is he elbowing people out of the way, pushing through the circle of gawkers around Steve? Why are his hands grabbing Steve by the shoulders, hauling him up, and dragging him out before anyone even knows what’s happening?

And why, for the love of God, is he driving to his trailer with Steve snoring in the passenger seat, instead of dumping the guy at his parents' mansion and going home?

Eddie wishes he knew. But his body’s on autopilot, and he’s watching it all happen like he's outside himself, like he’s not the one doing it.

The trailer park is quiet, too quiet for a Saturday night, but that’s January for you—cold as a witch's tit, and getting colder. The van’s heater barely works, and Eddie can see both their breaths fogging up the air, little puffs of steam in the dark.

Eddie cuts the engine, and the sudden silence fills the van like a held breath. Steve shifts in the seat, muttering something incoherent, his head lolling against the window. For a split second, Eddie considers just leaving him here. Would serve him right, honestly. Let King Steve wake up alone, freezing his ass off in a busted van in a trailer park at the edge of town. But then Steve lets out a soft groan, and Eddie can’t help but roll his eyes.

"You're a real piece of work, Harrington," he mutters under his breath, pushing open the driver's side door.

The cold air hits him like a slap, biting through his jacket and sending a shiver down his spine. He makes his way around to the passenger side, yanking open the door and catching Steve before he can tumble out. The guy's heavier than he looks—dead weight, limp as a rag doll. Eddie grunts, struggling for a grip, and finally manages to sling one of Steve's arms over his shoulder.

"Okay, big boy, up you go," Eddie mutters, half-dragging, half-carrying Steve toward the trailer. Steve's head drops forward, his hair brushing Eddie’s cheek, and he smells like a mix of beer, Steve's usual cologne, and something else—something clean, like laundry detergent or fresh air. It's weirdly comforting, and Eddie has to shake himself out of it.

Inside, the trailer is dim, lit only by the glow of the old TV Eddie left on. He kicks the door shut behind them, maneuvering Steve over to the sagging couch. Steve flops down with a heavy thud, eyes still closed, mouth slightly open. For a second, Eddie just stands there, looking at him, wondering what the hell he’s doing.

Why didn’t he just leave him there at the party? Why did he care?

Maybe it's because Steve looks different like this. Not the smug, popular guy who used to strut down the halls like he owned the place. Not the guy who had everything and then lost it all. Just... some kid, really. Some scared, drunk kid who probably doesn’t know where he fits anymore.

��Alright, Sleeping Beauty,” Eddie mutters, leaning down to untie Steve’s sneakers. “Let’s get you comfortable before you choke on your own puke.”

As he pulls off one shoe, then the other, Steve stirs, his eyelids fluttering. For a moment, his gaze is unfocused, hazy, but then his eyes lock onto Eddie’s, and there’s a flicker of recognition.

“Munson?” Steve’s voice is low, rough from whatever he’s been drinking. “What the hell…?”

“Yeah, it’s me, genius,” Eddie says, trying to sound annoyed but failing to hide the faint smile tugging at his lips. “You got yourself in a bit of a mess tonight, Harrington.”

Steve blinks, slowly piecing things together. “Why’d you bring me here?”

Eddie shrugs, feigning nonchalance. “Seemed like the right thing to do, I guess.”

Steve snorts, like he doesn’t quite believe him. “Right. The Freak playing Good Samaritan. What’s the punchline?”

Eddie’s smile fades. It inexplicably hurts to hear Steve call him that. “There’s no punchline, man. Not everything’s a joke.”

Steve stares at him, as if searching for something in Eddie’s face, something to latch onto. Finally, he just nods, leaning back against the couch, eyes half-closed again. “Thanks,” he mumbles, almost too quiet to hear. “I guess.”

Eddie feels something strange twist in his chest. “Don’t mention it,” he says, a little too quickly, like he’s trying to convince himself as much as Steve. He turns away, grabbing an old blanket from a nearby chair and tossing it over Steve. “You sleep it off. I’ll be in my room.”

But even as he walks away, he can't shake the feeling that something’s shifted tonight, some invisible line crossed. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe in the morning, Steve will wake up, make a snarky comment, and it’ll all go back to the way it was.

Or maybe, just maybe, it won’t.

[satowooo]

A DAY IN THE LIFE... WITH A CAT

Wherein Sukuna takes care of your cat for a day, despite his indifferences with it.

warning: animal cruelty

Your boyfriend, Ryomen Sukuna, is obviously not very fond of cats. Or to any living and breathing creature at all. But most especially your cat.

Sukuna hates it. Despise it even. He wishes it to be gone with just one flick of his finger just so the silly furball wouldn't take his time away from you. He hopes it'll get tired of you and run away someday because why are you always up on its face?

But then, that would make you sad. So he won't actually do anything to harm it, as much as he can.

To Sukuna, your cat is the most unearthly being that has ever walked on earth. Always tailing you around like a constant shadow, a menacing shadow. He dislikes it so much that it gets more of your attention than his.

“So cute!”

Sukuna watches the way your eyes glint in delight, squealing and feet kicking in the air while you're turned to your stomach right by the floor, playing with the little kitten you adopted. You had the most beautiful and widest grin spread on your face, and all because of an animal.

You can't seriously be so happy over that?

It has been a month since that kitten entered your life, and you hadn't been the same since. Well, you are the same, it's just Sukuna being exaggerated.

Why wouldn't he? You barely even look at him anymore because you're too focused on doting and feeding that animal, to the point that he's already making it a silent competition between him and the kitten about who wins your affections. And the cat wins every time. Every fucking time.

You're so head over heels about the white-furred kitten and he will never understand why. It's just another responsibility for you, another creature that will just distract you from your daily living, the daily living in question being the time that you're supposed to be doing with him instead.

“Look, Kuna!” You cheered, holding the cat by its arms to show the kitten to him, the said animal wearing small little glasses that would fit its little face.

Sukuna could only sneer, a frown obviously etched in his lip. “He looks pathetic. Get him out.”

“That's mean. Don't listen to him.” You turned the cat to face you and covered its ears, as if it'll understand what Sukuna says. The cat in return hisses at Sukuna, which made him scoff in disbelief.

Why are you even treating the kitten like a real baby? It looks so ugly!

But despite his inner thoughts, he actually finds himself caring for the cat, begrudgingly.

It's a furry dirty cat. He would only bring chaos all around your shared apartment. It probably doesn't even know how to clean itself. Sukuna would always think.

But he never really had a choice whenever you're gone at home, and he's left tending to the cat’s crazy needs.

“Will you fucking stay still?” Sukuna holds the cat by its scruff, not too tight though, just enough to hold him up to meet his gaze. The white kitten was all wet after Sukuna just gave him a bath. It meowed at him helplessly, making him smirk to finally see it in distress. “You're a handful, kitten. Why does she like you so much?”

This must've been the longest day for him yet, with you leaving Sukuna with the task to shower the kitten in your place because you'll be out the whole day. Who's he to disobey you anyway?

He wrapped the kitten in a towel, then took him by the counter. He let it sit there for a moment while it was licking its paws, while he rummaged through the cabinets to look for the hair dryer that you always used for the cat. Once he had it in hand, he faced the kitten again, his eyes glaring at the small creature who's just looking at him curiously.

This? This is the cat that you fawn over? He looks even ugly when he's drenched.

He could only shake his head at the thought, before plugging in the hair dryer so he could do his work. The cat tried to run away when he pulled him close, the hair dryer making a loud blowing sound as he fanned it all over the cat's body. A smile would tug on Sukuna's lips, finding the cat's helpless state funny whenever it meows in discomfort at his presence.

Well, let's just say it wasn't a very pleasant experience for the poor animal. As much as it is for Sukuna.

“Yeah, you look horrible. I know.” He chuckled darkly, gazing at the now dried-and-furry-again cat, all thanks to him.

He carried the cat and put it down the floor, letting it run away. He sighs, brushing a tired hand on his nape before he goes over to slump on the couch, resting his eyes for a moment. He could hear the thumps of the kitten running around, stumbling over who knows what, but he couldn't care less. Right now, Sukuna needs to have a moment. It was surely a new experience for him, and something that he will never do again.

It didn't take long for the kitten to go back to him though. It easily jumped on the couch, climbing straight to his lap. He groaned, feeling the cat tapping its little paws on his skin, opening his eyes to see it looking at him, expecting, or perhaps, asking for something?

“What do you want now?”

The kitten meowed, before jumping off his lap and heading straight to a little cabinet by the wall, where his cat food was hidden.

Oh, it's smart. He'll give him that.

“You're hungry?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at it. “Go starve yourself.”

Which wouldn't happen really, because the kitten started meowing furiously at him, which jolted all his senses awake. He cursed underneath his breath, letting out a grunt, standing up so he could give whatever the thing that the creature needed.

It was a very long and tiring day for him indeed. But at the end of the day, he's got the cat settled right above his chest, and he's petting its head softly as it lets out a purr. The cat’s tail would brush across his wrist, a sign that the cat must've been pleased with the gesture.

“I'll let you live longer.” He frowned, a low huff escaping from his lips as the cat only looked at him. “Just remember your place in this house.” Flicking the cat’s forehead softly as a finality, before he pushes it off and lets it fall on the floor, the cat swiftly landing on its feet.

After all, his pleasure is not his top priority, but yours. So, if keeping you happy would mean having this little cat between the two of you, then he might just let it for a while. For a while. Maybe. Depends if the cat crosses a line.

[arminsumi]

MAKE ME TAKE IT!

GOJO さとる + GETO すぐる

"Oh? Make you take it? Okay. I'll make you take it."

[ J's note ] : sharing is caring! i love me some satosugu smut idk why i haven't written more 🤨 also i rlly like the idea that suguru calls u a princess whenever satoru calls u a sl*t

[ Summary ] : Two pretty best friends sharing something good... and that's you! 😋👍💦

[ Warnings ] : 🔞 minors do not interact/read : contains 18+ content, smut, 3sum, bj, creampies, unprotected sex, light degradation/humiliation, c*m eating/c*ck cleaning, satosugu making out, dirty talk, pet names/namecalling (c*cksl*t, sl*t, princess), +++

🍒 More from Jay : JJK works

It's a Friday night. You three should be studying for finals, but Satoru got horny. And his horny energy is contagious to you and Suguru.

So you find yourself being shared by these two needy college boys instead of nosing in the textbooks.

Satoru slides out your quivering cunt and wipes the sweat off his forehead, his pretty eyes looking down admiringly at the gooey cumring that's formed on the base of his cock.

Suguru's eagerly swiping his cockhead through your slit. He's shuddering and letting out a shaky breath as he pushes into your sloppy cunt after Satoru had his fun overflowing it with his cum.

Something about Satoru's creampies turn you on so much that you become a verbal slut.

"Make me take it!" you beg Satoru erotically as he stations himself in front of you.

The boys exchange a smile that ridicules your sluttiness.

"Oh? Make you take it? Okay, I'll make you take it." Satoru grins toothily.

And then he forces your hips back and forth and makes you fuck yourself onto his best friends cock.

"Fuck, yes! Ohhh please! More! Harder! Uhnnnmmnfuckkk that's so fucking good!" you nearly scream, feeling Suguru's fat cock stroking against your gummy sweet spot.

"Wow... actin' like such a fuckin' slut for us." Satoru teases.

Suguru scolds his best friend, "Language, Satoru. She's not a slut, she's a pretty princess. Isn't that right, Y/n? You're a pretty princess." he treats you sweeter, knowing the duality of their behaviors excites you.

"Mhm!" you nod.

Suguru can feel your cunt constricting around his fat cock as Satoru complies to your pleas and pushes you down on it harder.

He groans and caresses your ass, hand cupping over Satoru's. Your plush skin slaps loudly against Suguru's abdomen, that sound together with the squelching sound of his dick in your pussy makes him want to cum.

"Nahhh, she's a slut. A princess wouldn't ask "make me take it"... you're a slut, aren't you, Y/n?"

"Yes!" you wail, completely drunk off and full of Suguru's cock. "I'm a sluttt!"

He's pounding into your weeping hole too good, even he can't think straight. All you care about is cumming obscenely on Satoru's best friend's cock.

"Don't tell it to me, I already know; tell it to Suguru. Tell him you're a nasty slut."

"I'm a slut!" you wail loudly, "I'm your nasty slut! Mmm!"

"Yeah? Our little cockslut? Nasty just for us? Aw, look at that fucking sluthole gushing... spread those pussy lips, let me see how your cunt stretches out for my best friend's dick — that's it. Good slut. Spread 'em wider... haha, that's so fucking sloppy. You've got a sloppy, slutty pussy, baby. Oh... Suguru, you're close, aren't you?" Satoru smirks, noticing how Suguru's gone silent and let his eyes flutter shut. He always does that when he's about to cum.

"Y-yeah, I'm s-so close... keep making her take my cock, it's s-so hot... fuck, ahhh I'm gonna cum. I-I'm gonna fill you up j-just like Satoru did, princess. Oh fuck... g-god... nnh I'm cumming! Ahh S-Satoru, I'm cumminggg...!"

And it's funny, how Suguru cums moaning his best friend's name while draining his balls in your pussy. Satoru's nastily rubbing on your pussy to make you cum just like you came on his cock earlier, muttering filth above you as you squish your cheek against his cock.

You're so dazed by your long, hard orgasm... just taking Suguru's seed as it floods into your cunt as ribbon-like shots. You feel both the boy's cum spilling out your hole and running down your slit, Suguru's being more watery than Satoru's thick baby batter.

While you make those cute afterglow noises, these two pretty best friends are making out above you, their saliva dripping down their connected lips. Satoru's a whimperer while kissing Suguru, you noticed, and it makes your pussy clamp down on the fat cock filling you up.

"I'm so full..." you groan softly, pressing a hand to your pussy and feeling the cum flowing out your drooling cunt.

"Mhm. Good. Sluts need a good filling from two dicks, don't they? Are you happy now? Yeah? Good."

You're nodding cutely, nuzzling Satoru's abs to show appreciation.

"Aw, cute..." Suguru smiles, petting your hair. He slides out your abused hole with a nasty sound. "Hey princess, turn around and clean this mess off my cock, will you?"

"Mhm~!" you hum, happily turning around and complying to his wish.

The boys exchange a smirking look as you start to suck and lick on Suguru's cock like it's a lollipop that you can't get enough of. You can taste your salty slick, your cream, and the mixture of both their cum. It's all frothed up at the base, gooey and sticky along the shaft, and you lick up everything while the boys widen their eyes at you.

"Yeah, I changed my mind, Satoru... you're right. She's a nasty fucking slut..." Suguru admits under his breath, patting your head as you look up at him with doe eyes, mouth full of cock.

"Of course I'm right." Satoru plants a hard smack on your pussy, and slides his fingers in and out so he can gather the mess on his fingers and get a taste for it. He sucks the juices off his middle finger and winks at Suguru, who blushes vehemently and can't look away every time his best friend does that.

"But you're a slut, too, aren't you Suguru?" he giggles, then licks his lips and presses his tongue into his cheek to insinuate what you were doing — sluttily sucking on Suguru's mushroom-tipped dick.

© arminsumi

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

[ckret2]

So y'all know the Gravity Falls production bible that leaked three weeks ago. Someone in one of my discord servers pointed this out:

And, naturally, that spawned an entire AU.

AU Concept: Ford was kicked out instead of Stan and takes a job as a trucker to makes ends meet since he couldn't go to college, while still studying the weird and anomalous however he can.

Ford driving around from quirky small town to quirky small town, drifting through the liminal spaces of truck stops, meeting odd people in isolated diners, seeing strange things out on the road—a deer with too many eyes bounding across a two-lane highway, a flirty woman at a rest stop who doesn't blink or breathe, mysterious lights in the sky at night, inhuman growls on the CB or 50-year-old broadcasts on the radio—and taking notes when he stops for gas or food.

Aside from having gotten kicked out before graduating high school, Ford's the same person he is in canon.

He's still an ambitious guy, and here "ambitious" means working hard and saving as much money as he can—so, a long haul owner-operator who spends weeks at a time on the road. (He goes through a LOT of educational audiobooks.) Plus, this is the easiest way for him to get to travel the country; and since it looks like his "travel the world" dreams with Stan are dead, he'll take what he can get.

Since he's never in the same spot long and carries his life in a truck, almost all of Ford's research is in his journal. His bag of investigation supplies has an instant camera, a portable tape recorder, a thermometer, a flashlight, rubber gloves, and a few zip lock bags—and that's about it. It has to share space with all his clothes, toiletries, and nonperishable food when he's on the road. He doesn't have much opportunity to closely examine anything odd he finds, unless he's lucky enough to run into something when he can stop for the night. He has to cram his paranormal research around the side of his full-time job.

He doesn't live in Gravity Falls, but he knows it exists. Every time he moves—to Chicago, to Nebraska, to California—he seems to inch closer. He currently lives in Portland and usually hauls loads between the Pacific Northwest and Chicago or New York. He stops at the truck stop outside Gravity Falls when he can and has gone fishing in town a few times. He doesn't have the benefit of extensive research to know that this is the weirdest town in the world; but it seems pretty weird to him, there are local rumors about the town, and he's had some weird experiences in the area.

Plus, he can't explain it, but it's like the town's calling to him. He wants to move there, but it'd put him over an hour outside of Portland where the nearest jobs are. Maybe if somebody chucked him like $100k to build a cabin in the woods; but what are the odds of that?

He does know Fiddleford. Truck broke down somewhere and Fiddleford kindly pulled over to fix it on the fly. They looked at each other, had mutual knee-jerk "dumb trucker/hillbilly" reactions, and within ten minutes both went "oh wait you're the most brilliant genius i've ever met." Fiddleford's living the same life he was in canon before Ford called him to Gravity Falls—with his family in California, trying to start a computer company out of his garage—but they make friends and keep in contact.

One time Ford stops at a kitschy roadside knickknack store that also sells new agey magic things—crystals, tarot cards, incense, etc. He bought a "lucky" rearview mirror ornament that looks like an Eye of Providence in a top hat and hung it from his cab fan, and ever since then he's had weird dreams whenever he sleeps in his truck.

Things I don't know yet: what Stan's up to; or why Ford's the one who got kicked out. I tend to believe that in canon Stan wasn't just kicked out because he ruined Ford's college prospects, but rather because the family thought he deliberately sabotaged Ford; so in this AU, Ford would've been kicked out over a proportionate crime.

[murdrdocs]

Babe. Babe. Babe. I’m ovulating and it shows BUT. I’m thinking SO heavy abt how in MULTIPLE of ur luke fics you comment on his desire to cum inside, knowing damn well he can’t/that he’ll be able to talk her into it one day and it WONT leave my brain alone. I need a fic where reader finally lets him. I’m gnawing at the bars of my enclosure as I type this. down horrendously. send help.

creampie; MDNI – i did not realize that I did this that often erm

if he hadn't have told you verbally, with the way luke is fucking you, you would've been able to figure out what his goal was.

it was one he recently set, having been given permission by you, coupled with extremely enthusiastic consent.

truthfully, it was about time.

all of those sessions where you would see him staring longingly at your cunt after he fucked it, as if he were expecting something else to happen. all of those nights where he would hesitate before putting on a condom, plump lips parting as if he prepared to ask a question, and then promptly closing as he decided against it.

it all led to this: luke finally fucking you raw, leading himself to an orgasm that would make it all worth it.

he has you in a mating press, as if he needed to amplify his intentions even more.

the tops of your thighs pressed against your chest, your ankles and calves thrown over his shoulders, the position spreading you open to give luke access to the deepest parts of you.

he keeps mentioning it, clearly as entranced by it all as you are. little breaths of "so deep" and borderline gasps of "you feel me?" spoken into the stiff air.

you really aren't much better. the ferocity of his hips, the hunger behind each thrust, has made you go dumb. you can only respond in pornographic "yes"'s and "mhm"'s every so often. all of your energy and sense has gone to the feeling of luke driving himself in and out of you like you're nothing but a pocket pussy.

he'd already made you cum once, and another is steadily approaching. it comes closer and closer as you realize that luke is using your body.

it arrives when luke tells you he's about to cum, since you know what that means.

somehow, your brain begins to function and words form.

"please, luke. please cum in me. i need it so bad."

you sound desperate, like something out a video curated perfectly to appease audiences. but that's just how luke has made you feel. that's what he's done to you.

he presses one of your legs further down into your chest and begins to roll his hips into yours, abdominal muscles going taut as his eyelids lower to watch it all happen.

"'m close, baby. just a little..." he lets the sentence tailor off without a complete ending but its not necessary. not when his hips twitch and then still and then finally, he's spurting cum into you.

it's a foreign feeling, but in the best possible way. warm and wet, copious amounts, more than you would've expected. you think you felt him fill you out a little more for a second, but you can't even begin to consider that whenever luke pulls out and his cum follows.

you barely mourn the emptiness before luke's speaking to you.

"did so well, angel. but i need one more thing from you." he lowers your legs, kisses the tops of your calves. "push it out 'f me. need to see it, angel."

you do as told, letting his cum drip out and encouraging it a little with your last remnants of energy. luke's breath hitches, and then you flinch when his fingers probe at your entrance.

he apologizes in a soft whisper but continues his exploration. thick fingers sliding in his cum, smearing it over your cunt. when he gets up to your clit, teasing the bud with the newly added slip, you say his name. it's meant to be a warning, but it comes out more as a plea.

either way, he still chuckles through his halfhearted apology.

"can't help it," he reasons.

"just look so pretty with my cum leaking out of you."

[disgustingtwitches]

"Come and see me for once"

Situationship!Simon and how you had a one night stand with him that turned into a friends with benefits thing. It started off nice, clean, uncomplicated. He was in town long enough for you to see him often, which was great because the sex was phenomenal. Then he gets deployed.

Gone for months. Not a word from him. He could've at least cut things off. Whatever. You get a text one afternoon,

"here"

Head to his place. Catch up by getting railed on every flat surface in his apartment. You don't really mind him disappearing every now and then if that means you'll keep getting fucked like this. Kind of wish he told you when he was gonna fuck off again though.

It's like this for a year or two. The same thing over and over again. He'll text you whenever he gets back. A couple weeks of good sex. Then it's radio silence. Eventually, you find another guy to fill in the gaps between his absences.

The next time he's gone for a little longer than usual. You think about him, wonder if you're ever gonna hear from him again.

"come over"

It's 3 in the morning. You're still in the other guy's bed. You text him letting him know.

"i know"

Reading that made your throat dry up a little. What the fuck did he mean "i know" ??? Maybe he was just fucking with you. Whatever. You're at his place and he fucks you a little rougher than usual. You're so busy getting fucked by Simon for the next month, you barely see the other guy. Other guy just thinks that you're caught up with work or something. And just like that, he's gone again.

Other guy sex is good enough to keep him around. Pleasant conversation. You even watch movies with him sometimes. You spend more time with him, he even lets you sleep over. But whenever the wind blows Simon in, you're there.

"where are you"

Don't know why Simon bothers to ask, he knows where you're headed. He starts trying to keep you at his place longer, makes you call out from work sometimes. How hard is it to let you know when he's coming home? So you can take a couple sick days at least. He doesn't seem to care. Poof, gone again.

Other guy can't hold a candle to Simon, as lovely as he tries to be. Maybe you just like assholes. Simon knows he's better, cocky jackass. Still, makes him a little jealous when he thinks of the two of you. Other guy is some computer tech, conveniently lives a block away from you, closer to your age. Simon doesn't even know why he looked him up. Maybe stroke his ego? Maybe something else.

When he's on missions, the few times he does pleasure himself; he thinks of you. Used to think of anyone he fucked before. Not lately though. Thinks about how delicious you smell; skin, hair, cunt. Makes him finish faster.

"sending the car"

You don't even ask why he knows where you are. Jackhammers you into the mattress until your makeup leaves an impression of your face on his sheets. He grabs you water as you catch your breath. Ask why he never comes over to your flat.

"Don't like my place anymore?"

He dodges the question. He knows the answer. He'd obsess. Probably nick one of your thongs so he can wrap it around his cock while he fucks his fist. Find out what perfume you use so he can take a sample with him on missions. He'd never want to leave. You say something about him licking every inch of your body, but not knowing what the inside of your place looks like.

But he does.

[cho-aaacho]

Jealousy isn't really your style, is it?

Masterlist

Characters : Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Fushiguro Megumi, and Choso.

Gojo Satoru

He becomes increasingly silent—too silent until you can't detect his emotion. His appetite vanished as waves of jealousy showered on his mind. You don't even notice that at first, thinking he might be tired from work.

However, as the sun goes down to the horizon and is replaced by the moonlight, his smile fades whenever your eyes meet his. He refrains from calling you endearing nicknames, skips the usual sensual morning kiss, and avoids his favorite cookies. When you suggest playing video games, Gojo simply groans and leaves you alone.

What's happening to him? Did you hurt your sweetheart? No. Until the sky falls, you don't have a heart to hurt your sweetheart.

You can't let the stillness linger; you can't leave everything unresolved. It's so hurtful, to be honest. Why would Gojo be so selfish like this? You need to find out what's going on with your little sweetheart.

That night, Gojo stood in his favorite spot within the apartment, drowning in the beautiful goldfish in the aquarium. Golden and yellow, reflected in his eyes like sunflower petals.

He gently tapped his finger on the aquarium's glass, making the whole atmosphere feel so cold. Gojo seemed unusually relaxed, in contrast to the person he once was. 

"I know I might come off as a boring and annoying man. People often say that, and I usually don't care about it at all because I understand it's not important. But when it comes from you—please... I don't want to hear that."

You do not quite understand what he means, but Gojo appears deeply hurt. His azure eyes, his words, his breath, the cologne he uses this time, the way he gazes at you—something feels off and unplaced.

This is the first time you've seen him so blue and so pained that the warmth in his lovely presence is almost undetectable. Everything is gone.

"Hey, I'm not sure if you've noticed, but it hurts me when you smile at other guys. I want you to be mine, and only mine, and no one else. Please don't do that again, because you're irreplaceable. If I lose you, I can't find another like you."

Geto Suguru 

At first, he doesn't show his jealousy because Geto is the sweetest.

However, there comes a moment when he becomes more affectionate—increased physical touch, frequent kisses, hugs, showering you with praise, texting you almost every hour.

And when he does these things, he always leaves a sarcastic comment like, "I'm a better man, aren't I?" or "Can you see how much I care about you more than anyone else?"

and "I hope you're not blind enough to understand my affection."

also "I know you're not stupid enough to leave me alone. Because I hate being a loner."

It's somewhat annoying because Geto rarely behaves like this. It's simply... so strange, leaving you confused about whether it's a prank by the twins, if something horrible has hit him, or maybe he is too much into reading a weird romantic novel.

That morning, when you are sleeping on his lap, feeling his love, warmth, and kindness, he delicately traces his fingertips across your cheeks, down to your jawline, then meanders to your nose, pinching it gently, leaving a small chuckle before circling back to playfully tease the contour of your lips.

He leaned closer, sealing a gentle kiss on the nose tip and moving before grazing your lips with a small nibble. "Did Satoru ever kiss you like this? I doubt he has done this to you."

Your eyes fluttered open, confusion etching your expression. "What do you mean, Suguru-kun?"

He sighed. "Don't think I haven't noticed, cutie. I may not match Satoru's strength, but I'm not stupid. What were you up to with him last week? You seemed quite charmed with him, didn't you?"

He added. "Should I end both of you, so he can't have you and you can't have him? But I lack the heart to harm you, sweet love. Stop talking with that man. Because I hate sharing my love with someone else."

Nanami Kento

A tough man, he doesn't even realize if jealousy is starting to invade him; perhaps you might label it as denial. 

He puts on a facade that everything is fine, brushing off any concerns by assuming them to be mere imagination or work-induced stress.

No, you didn't cheat or talk with another man. You're always a nice woman to Nanami Kento, and of course, never in your wildest dreams will you hurt your man. 

However, a weird sensation starts to trouble him the next day when his coworkers engage in silly gossip about him and you. 

Whispers float behind him, dripping with a sarcastic tone like, "How could a good woman like her date someone like Nanami-san? He's so boring."

and someone chimes in. "Yeah, I heard she dumped Gojo-san and went with him; why does she think like that?"

From that moment onward, everything feels upside down.

Each day, each time, every time he sees your face, catches your gaze, and hears your voice echoing in his ears, all of these hurt him. 

He feels like he doesn't deserve you and thinks that perhaps you can find another guy, someone special, someplace that would make you safe and happy, someone who could make you feel at home whenever you run to them. 

And that man is not me.

"I realize I might not be as caring as other men, or perhaps I come off as too boring for someone like you. Honestly, I don't wish for your kindness to be shared with anyone else—even a fleeting smile from you stirs a deep ache within me. Maybe it's an obsession, but if you allow me to share my jealousy, I don't want you to meet that guy, Gojo Satoru. For heaven's sake, I fear losing all control and ending up hurting you. I love you." 

Fushiguro Megumi

Honestly, his anger management is the worst. There are scenes when he appears calm, collected, and cute, but, again, it's merely a facade he is creating, especially in your presence. 

When the flames of jealousy shower on Megumi, flirting with his life, everything transforms into a hellish field.

He loses his temper and becomes easily offended whenever Yuuji attempts to engage in conversation with him, roasting everyone in sight. The situation continues until Maki beats him and tells him how annoying he is.

He has a terrible urge to throw punches at everyone, driven by the need to tell them that you belong to him. He needs to make it clear that you're already committed to someone else and that your heart is sealed with Fushiguro Megumi. Only with that man and no one else.

His intention is not just to show his obsession but also to dissuade others from bothering both of you. He longs to compel them to kneel, satisfying his fleeting sense of pride.

It's pretty hilarious because whenever Gojo catches wind of it, he bursts into laughter and playfully teases Megumi all day. Well, it's natural for anyone to have jealousy within them, but... doesn't Megumi take it a bit too far?

You've observed this pattern and tried to convince your dear boyfriend that everything around him is just his imagination. He shouldn't be worrying, and he just hurts himself by treating people like that.

Yet, Megumi is Megumi.

"I don't think I'm overreacting to this. When I'm upset, I express it openly. It's frustrating when people assume I'm obsessed with you—I'm not. I just don't want you to get involved with someone who isn't worth it for you. I fear you'll end up hurt. You can choose me; I can prove not only to you but to everyone that I am the one who truly deserves you."

Choso

Choso isn't typically the jealous type, but when he notices a certain closeness between you and his brothers, everything changes. 

He genuinely cares for his brothers, going to great lengths to ensure their happiness and love. He values the bond you share with his brothers and cherishes the love and affection you have for each other.

However...

It's hard for him to put it into words. Everything is stuck in his throat and sealed inside his head. 

Every time he sees you with his brothers blossoming an indescribable feeling within him, it's a burning sensation that's hard to bear. The flame is starting to burn him alive.

The way you share meals with them or laugh at their jokes—all of these irritate him to the point that they make his heart beat so fast. Choso is aware that these emotions are too complicated; he can't hate his brothers, but the heart has a way of contradicting logic. 

How could God put love in his heart?

He fondly recalls the first snow you experienced together, the gentle embrace of summer against his skin, and the golden glow of spring's sun. 

But he still wonders when he falls in love with you. Maybe since the first time he met you? Or else?

"I find immense joy in sharing my time and days with you. My brothers seem to love you as well. Everything about you is beautiful, and I cherish the moments we share. I fear losing you and our precious time; that's why I act this way when you're with them. I want to be the one you choose."

[strwberri-milk]

Hii can I request the L&DS men accidentally finding the readers pleasure toy pls? 👀

hrmm nothing too super explicit but its going under the cut !!!

Zayne notices the toy but doesn't say anything to you until that evening. He wants to bring it up earlier but he thinks it'd be better to wait until the two of you are in bed together for him to bring it up, asking you without malice. You're mortified that he found your toy, trying to tell him that it's not because you don't need him or you don't like the way he treats you. You stumble over an explanation that just boils down to his nights are long and you miss him sometimes.

He tells you he doesn't mind but he'd rather you tell him whenever you need him. He'll always make time for you if he can, knowing that sometimes he really will be too busy to come to you but he also has no problem finding a moment of privacy if it means he can tease you when you have your hand between your thighs.

Xavier picks up the (offending) toy and finds you immediately. He isn't exactly upset about it but he is worried that he isn't satisfying you properly, leading you to have to settle for something like that to sate yourself. You have to tell him that's not the case at all - it's just something to take the edge off when he can't.

Honestly, you probably shouldn't have insinuated that it makes you feel good too. Now you're stuck on his unmoving cock, whining and bucking your hips as he uses the toy to tease your most sensitive parts, asking if this is how you touch yourself when he's gone.

Rafayel is not a fan of you using toys without him. If the two of you are together then that's fine but he likes the thought of being the only thing to make you feel good. Surprisingly, he isn't as "jealous" as you initially thought he would be. He primarily just huffs and puffs about how there's no way that toy can make you feel as good without him and proves it to you.

He's fucking you hard, knocking your breath out of your chest with every thrust he makes. The vibrator rests against your combined bodies, the high setting paired with his rough thrusts stringing out the pleasure. You feel like you can't stop cumming, making a mess on the bed as he taunts you mercilessly.

Sylus isn't very pleased. He looks at the object, telling you if you really have to resort to such tactics to make yourself cum without him. You snatch it from him, telling him that it's not your fault that he's so busy sometimes he can't even see you. You start to blame him for neglecting you, huffing righteously. He hugs you from behind, telling you he's oh so very sorry but the bulge in his pants tells you something different.

You should have known not to run your mouth, now forced to ride the toy for his hungry eyes. He watches your body twitch and keen for him, trying to entice him into fucking you as he strokes his cock slowly to the sight. You won't be able to take him until you manage to convince him that the toy can't make you cum as hard as he can, now totally stuck at his mercy.

[winterzsurprise]

A New Beginning || Miguel O'hara

Pairing: Miguel O'hara x F!reader

Summary: You tell Miguel that you're ready to have a child with him.

Tags: SMUT, NOT BETA READ, breeding kink, unprotected sex, big dick Miguel, creampie, vaginal fingering, brief blowjob scene, soft sex that turned rough later on, Miguel kinda whimpered lol.

Period is gone and came the asexual lil shit who can't write smut anymore lmaooo. I have two other plots just waiting to be finished (something about being paralyzed by his venom and needy sex after a death scare) but aaaaaaaaaaa. This is so shit, I apologize lmao.

mi vida - my life || cariño - honey || mi cielo- my sky (correct me on this please)

“I think I’m ready.”

Miguel didn’t respond for the longest time, focused on frying the vegetables. Clearing your throat you tried again.

“Miguel? I think I’m ready.”

“For what exactly? What trouble are you brewing up again?”

Sensing his dedication towards completing his task, you grew doubtful of your decision of dropping the news to him. 

Miguel, always tuned in to your moods even without seeing you, immediately turned off the stove and turned to face you with crossed arms at your prolonged silence.

“Alright, what is it?”

Now seeing the permanent frown in his face, you wondered if he’s even as ready as you are. Being the leader of the inter-dimensional spider society and a chronic over-worker, you could see him putting his job first as the protector of spider people since he sometimes does it with you.

But you’ve seen how his eyes lingered a little too long on Mayday and Peter B whenever they visited. You’ve seen him replay clips of a future that doesn’t belong to him and watched him mourn over a child that never existed in this universe.

Having a kid with both of your features…

It doesn't seem like that bad of an idea.

“I’m just… thinking about kids you know?”

The twitch in his eyebrow betrayed his uninterested expression. “Oh? What about them?”

“I think I’m ready for one.”

Tensed silence immediately filled the room, locking your throat close as you waited for a change in his stance with bated breath. You saw the surprise flash in his eyes but he made no move to indicate his interest in the subject. 

If it wasn’t for Mayday, you wouldn’t have thought about bringing a child into a world where she'd have parents from two separate dimensions, both superhuman and known as saviors of the world. Not to mention, while being an active crime fighter in your own universes which is not an ideal occupation for a pregnant woman.

Even then, you had your IUD removed a few days ago when you returned to your world for a visit and only today did you guys had the time to bond.

As you linger in the silence, regret starts to crawl up your throat. Maybe it's a stupid decision after all...

His sigh sliced through the thick atmosphere before his voice did. “Are you sure?”

Miguel, no matter how unsure his voice sounded, had a hungry look in his eyes.

“I’ve been thinking about it for so long and... I think I’m ready now.”

You swear you could hear the clock from the living room tick beside you as you wait in anticipation. 

tik!

tok!

tik!

tok!

tik!

Miguel reached behind to remove his apron, crumpling them like a paper ball and tossing them to the side before crossing the distance between the two of you with one large step, hands surging to cup your cheeks to pull you in for a deep kiss.

You melted in the soft plushies of his lips, hands rising to tangle themselves into his hair. 

His hands wandered down to your rear, tapping it rapidly and you jumped up to wrap your legs around his waist before proceeding to walk blindly to the bedroom, relying solely on muscle memory.

Miguel’s lips melded with yours smoothly with years of experience, his taste familiar in your tongue. Your fingers combed through his hair, tugging him closer as the door opened behind you.

It didn't take long before you hit the softness of your bed. His body dwarfs yours in every way and the realization never fails to send jolts of pleasure down your spine.

There's greed and desperation in Miguel's hands as he tore through your shirt and bra, freeing your breasts that pebbled with goosebumps from the cold air. Despite the hunger and rush in his movements, his touch is the softest it has been in a long, long time since the needy sex from months ago after a death scare.

His fingers found your stiff nubs and pinched them, sending sparks crawling over your body, stirring your nerve endings awake. Miguel's lips parts from yours to pepper kisses down your skin, leaving warmth in its wake.

You quickly made work of his top, pushing it over his head before he latched onto your skin once more like a bloodsucker.

"You're so pretty, mi cielo." He groaned, kneading your mounds together. "I lose my mind just thinking about your tits growing full with milk for our kid." 

You couldn't suppress the shudder racking your body at the mention of having your own child, together. A low moan left your lips and Miguel's hand wandered lower to tug on the bands of your shorts and underwear.

"You don't mind this one, yeah?"

"Rip it off."

He didn't need to hear it twice, the sound of fabrics tearing off into two echoed in the room and plant both your legs on either side of him, leaving you bare for him to see. Sitting back on his heels, he admired his work as he caressed your inner thighs with small circles, a promise of what to come.

"As much as I want to eat you up, I want to see you falling apart my dick more."

You nod feverishly, sighing as deft fingers found your clit to roll in tight circles, occasionally scooping down to spread your wetness around your folds. Heat explodes from your abdomen, spreading across your body as pleasure slowly ricochets inside you.

His finger enters you, curling up to caress the spongy part of your walls and you moan. Miguel spared no time adding another digit inside you, picking up a fast pace and your body arched, hips twisting to follow his ministrations.

But before the pressure in your abdomen builds up, he pulls away to your distaste.

"Fuck…" You whined.

"Stop whining and get on top of me. I wanna see you bounce."

He slipped off of his pants and boxers, tossing it to the side before switching positions with you. You reached down to his hardened length, pumping him leisurely while he ran his calloused hands up and down the meat of your thighs.

You eyed the clear pre-cum erupting from his tip with every pump with fascination. Miguel's hands tensed on your thighs as a warning yet you bent down to lick off it off. A salty taste explodes in your mouth and Miguel grunts, nails digging into your flesh.

"Mi vida..."

"You're such a mood killer." You said, earning yourself a pinch in your thigh and you giggled.

You positioned his intimidatingly huge dick directly under you and with a deep breath, you let the tip sink into you. It's barely in and you're struggling with his girth stretching you wide open. Seeing the struggle in your face, Miguel rubbed circles on your hips.

"You can do it, baby. You know you can take me in."

With the slight pushing from Miguel, you eased him in with a mewl. He feels deeper and fuller this way and you gasped at him, nudging more of him inside.

"Fuck..! You're so deep..! I c-can't—"

"You can and you will. I'll make sure you do."

"P-please... Ah!"

Surrendering your control to him momentarily, he gladly took up the mantle. Your mind grew fuzzy at how full he makes you feel and it pleased Miguel to no end to see you drunk on his cock. Reaching up to your neck, he pulls you down for a dizzying kiss.

You whimpered into his mouth as he gained some speed, nudging the roof of your uterus, keeping your mouth hang ajar, spouting gibberish and noises of absolute ecstasy. His hands roamed your body with the greed of an explorer in a new land yet tender as if handling a feather whilst you tugged hard on his locks.

"You feel so tight around me. God, you feel heavenly." He grunts as he drives himself in your heat.

Your body grew feverish as your heart grew fuller from the softness of his touches and kisses. The knots in your abdomen twisted tighter, your impending climax arriving a little early.

"I-I'm close…"

"Give it to me, come all over my dick. I want it all."

Picking up speed, you cried onto his shoulders as he plummets into you hard. Your hips grew erratic as you followed the intensity of his thrusts, his hands grabbing the globes of your ass to guide your heat onto his. 

"Come for me, cariño."

Your whimpered whispers of his name filled the room as you tip closer to the edge.

The knots in your abdomen unfurl and you come, trembling on top of him with a shout. He grunts as the tightness brought by your end, hugged his girth firmly. His hot pants fanned your ears as your climax encouraged him closer, the sound of his pleasure sent sparks throughout your body and swells your chest with pride.

"Take all of me, baby. You want it yeah? Want me to fill you up real bad? Want me to breed and knock you up?"

"Yes yes yes…! I want it please please please!"

Miguel protectively wrapped his arms around you as he came, exploding and painting your insides white with a deep groan. His arms only tightened around you, forbidding you from leaving.

Flipping you both, he sits up to stare at where you both connected with lust clouded eyes. Pulling out, you groaned at the feeling of his seed pulse out of you and Miguel clicked his tongue.

"You're wasting them."

Scooping them up, he plunged them into you and your thighs twitched from the intrusion. You let your eye close as your soul slowly settles back into your body, exhaustion weighing your eyelids shut.

The sound of wet squelch of his fluids mixed with yours burned your cheeks and you forced yourself to focus on the feeling of his fingers plunging his seed back in, pleasurable albeit a little painful.

Miguel halts, only to bring your legs up to your shoulders, stirring you awake from your momentary rest to meet the wicked gleam in his dilated eyes as he pinned your thighs down and loomed over you.

"Don't even think of sleeping tonight or tomorrow. We haven't even started."

[connorsui]

Infinite Heartstrings

Obsessed! Satoru x fem! Reader

Genre/warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, comedy, satoru falling in love with you

Synopsis: Satoru Gojo is hopelessly smitten with you, but his usual confidence falters whenever you're around.

Note: this takes place when everything hasn't gone to depression 💔

w.c: 1.3K

Satoru Gojo was not one to lose his cool. The man who faced down curses without batting an eye, who cracked jokes mid-battle, and who carried the weight of the world on his broad, relaxed shoulders—he was unshakeable. At least, that's what everyone believed. But those closest to him, like Suguru Geto and Shoko Ieiri, knew better.

"He's doing it again," Shoko muttered, glancing over the top of her medical file at the white-haired sorcerer pacing back and forth in their shared lounge.

"How could anyone be so perfect?" Satoru gushed, his hands waving animatedly in the air as he recounted every detail of his latest encounter with you. "The way she smiled at me—I'm telling you, it was like the sun itself decided to bless me with its warmth!"

Suguru, leaning against the wall with an exasperated look, sighed deeply. "You’re hopeless, Satoru. We get it. She smiled at you…and to be factual she wasn't doing it just towards you"

"But it wasn't just a smile," Satoru insisted, blue eyes sparkling with an intensity that had nothing to do with his cursed techniques. "It was... it was *the* smile! Like, 'I can die happy now' kind of smile!"

Shoko rolled her eyes, closing her file with a snap. "You’ve been saying the same thing for weeks. Why don’t you just tell her how you feel?"

"Because—because—" Satoru paused, searching for the right words, his usual confidence faltering. "Because– I mean she wouldn't reject meeee …right!? …THE Satoru Gojo!? – I just gotta find the right time is all”

Suguru and Shoko exchanged a glance, the kind that spoke volumes without words. Satoru Gojo, the man who could have anything and anyone, was terrified of rejection.

When you spoke to him, it was as if the world slowed down. The way your voice reached his ears, gentle and melodic, made his heart race in a way he couldn't control. It wasn’t fair how you did that to him, how you made him—a man who usually had the upper hand—feel so completely and utterly at your mercy. That even his six eyes looked at you with pure admiration and beauty.

“God's it's as if I can stare at her soul forever”

“Do you see that! She styled her hair today!”

“Having her in our lives would feel less lonely”

“ She will love us too, right!?”

“She looks so soft…”

“Her very being is immaculate”

"Satoru?" Your voice snapped him back to reality, and he realized he'd been staring at you for a little too long. His face flushed, and he quickly cleared his throat.

"Oh, uh, yeah! Sorry, I was just... uh... admiring the view!" He cringed internally, immediately regretting his choice of words. What kind of line was that?

Surprised; you stared at him directly until you giggled, a sound that sent his heart soaring. "Your mind is getting soo cloudy lately, Gojo…but, I can't lie when you stare off into the universe, it makes you look cute!”

Cute.

You called him cute, for a brief moment Satoru's six eyes went silent.

You liked him enough to tease him!

Later that night, he found himself groaning into his pillow, replaying the conversation in his head for the hundredth time. "Cute … I can't believe she called me cute..." He grumbled, his face half-buried in the pillow, a faint blush still lingering on his cheeks. Why couldn’t he ever say something smooth to you? Something that would make you see him as the suave, confident man he was supposed to be?

But the next day, his resolve hardened. He was Satoru Gojo, after all. He could do this. He can make this right!

So, he showed up at your door with a bouquet of red tulips and baby’s breath, their soft elegance a reflection of his feelings for you. Of course, he didn’t tell you that he had grilled your friend for an hour to find out your favorite flowers.

"Red tulips?" You raised an eyebrow, pleasantly surprised. "How did you know these are my favorites?"

Satoru grinned, pushing up his sunglasses with a cocky tilt of his head. "I have my ways. Lucky guess, maybe?"

You smiled, taking the bouquet with a gentle touch that made his heart skip a beat. "Thank you, Satoru. They're beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as you," he blurted out, and immediately, his face turned red. He couldn't believe he’d just said that out loud. The normally confident sorcerer was now a stuttering, blushing mess.

"You're so sweet," you said softly, and Satoru could have sworn the entire world melted away in that moment. Just you, him, and the beating of his heart that felt louder than any curse he’d ever faced.

Satoru couldn’t take it anymore. He’d spent weeks—no, months—dancing around his feelings, trying to play it cool, trying to be smooth. But every time he saw you, every time you smiled at him, he felt like he was going to explode.

So there he was, standing in front of you, his usual swagger nowhere to be found. His sunglasses were pushed up into his hair, revealing those striking blue eyes that were now filled with nervous energy.

"Any moment i'm going to lose myself…" he stammered, his voice a little too loud, a little too shaky. You looked at him, curious and a bit concerned.

"....what?"

"I... I really like you. And not just in a 'hey, let's be friends' kind of way, but in a 'I think about you all the time and I want to be with you' kind of way, — I mean — who wouldn't want to be with me right? — you would be with me …right? " he confessed, the words tumbling out in a rush before he lost his nerve. His face was burning, and he was sure he looked like an idiot, but he didn’t care anymore.

You blinked, taking a moment to process his sudden outburst. Then, a soft smile spread across your lips, and you stepped closer to him, placing a gentle hand on his cheek.

"Satoru Gojo," you said with a teasing lilt, "I think I like you too."

He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, relief flooding through him. “Me…right? ..you mean me….not as the stro-"

Silencing him. You kissed his cheek. “I mean you Satoru …I mean you”

Satoru's heart nearly burst from his chest as your words sank in, the warmth of your kiss lingering on his cheek like a brand. For a moment, he was utterly speechless, his brain short-circuiting as it tried to process the fact that you actually liked him back.

His usual confident grin slowly returned, this time softer, more genuine, as he gazed at you with those intense blue eyes, now filled with nothing but adoration.

And for the first time in a long while, Satoru Gojo knew that he didn’t have to face the world alone. Because now, he had you.

Ooc satoru is my fav satoru

[viharbinger]

If you haven’t done it yet

Would it be a problem if you wrote Kenji sato dating headcanons?

Thank you in advance <3

Ken Sato Dating Headcannons

pairings: Kenji Sato x gn!reader

warnings: mentions of marriage

a/n: Ty for requesting this I luv doing hcs

Bike Dates

— Oh yes. He's going to take you out on romantic dates on his bike. He'd get you a helmet to your own liking as well, with all that money he has lying around

Of course if you don't like riding bikes, you can always ride with him on his 20 other different expensive sport cars.

But with the bike, he'd make sure you don't feel uncomfortable and if he feels you slipping your hands away from his waist, he'd pull it back up at a red traffic light. "Keep that on me, ya?" His voice was muffled over his helmet and the humming of the bike, yet it was so attractive, your cheeks were flushed.

First Aid

Of course..... Being the significant other of Tokyo's Ultraman and a famous baseball player means you've got your work cut out for you. It isn't uncommon for him to come home looking like a beat up puppy.

"I think you should stop acting like a big jerk to the Tigers." You grimaced looking at his black eye, before cleaning the other injury on his cheek. "Oh yeah? You should see the other guys- Oww....." He winced when you dabbed his cheek gently with a wet rag to prepare a clean base to put a bandaid on.

Cuddles

After getting patched up by his sweetheart, the only thing that concerns him right now is to get a good night's sleep. With you, of course. He can't get enough of your body warmth, especially during the winter. Some nights after he's had a bad day, he would often sleep on your lap or his head on your chest in a fetal position.

But most nights, it would be you laying your head on his chest, arms wrapped around his waist and engulfing in his scent. He loves your cuddles so much, he starts owning a bolster for whenever you're not home to replace the missing feeling of your body.

Baseball and Fame

VIP tickets to every game he's in. He wants you to watch him really good, he's got a special fan to impress alright? He'd shoot a wink your way, making other fans think it was for them, making you stifle a giggle.

He would teach you the basics of baseball so you know what exactly he's doing, and if he were to ever go away on a big trip for baseball you'd make him tell you all about his games you never got to see. And luckily, because he taught you the basics, it doesn't sound like a big blur to you!

Ken would also talk about you a lot during press interviews. He doesn't care about being a hot single baseball player, he wants the whole world to know that you're his one and only, and he's definitely gonna put a ring on it someday.

Kissing

He always gives you short kisses before he leaves for work like modelling for a canned drink brand, Ultraman or said press interviews. He never leaves home without a kiss! Don't expect him to walk out that door without any type of kiss from you.

If you're angry and decided not to give him a kiss, he'll get grouchy and pouty. If it's gone long enough, he'll start begging and start kissing up your hands looking up at you with needy eyes. You can't leave that poor man without a kiss!

In the morning when you've both just woken up, he likes a long sweet kiss from you before he gets up to shower. He'll cup your cheek to pull you in, never caring for the fact that both of you had morning breath. He loves your kisses and he won't live without it, point blank.

[grimmweepers]

— ★ 𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐅!

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: how they go about with snatching your panties :3

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: (all separate) gojo, toji, sukuna, nanami, yuuji, x reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.9k | masterlist | byf/dni

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: fem!bodied reader, modern au, yuuji is aged up (21+) panty stealing (obv), pervert behaviour, panty sniffing, masturbation, dubcon, unprotected sex, lying, teasing, stalking (with yuuji sorta kinda), established relationship for most except yuuji, sukuna calls you ‘sweetheart’, MDNI

𝐚/𝐧: i wrote this with a raging fever so apologies if it sounds funky. had to sneak yuuji into this roster bc i feel like he would

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

— ★ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

As soon as he can proudly proclaim the title of your boyfriend, wearing it like a badge of honour, he figures he’s got a right to certain perks— like getting his hands on your panties. At first, you don’t notice but then you realise that a few pairs have mysteriously vanished. Some are just your regular cotton ones but one of your favourite, sexier pairs is gone too. He knows it’s fucked up but he can’t seem to stop thinking about your pussy whenever you're not around. Gojo's seen you in every single one of them and just thinking about how they hug your curves or knowing that they’re tucked into crevices that only he’s allowed to pry on, gets him rock hard.

Now, he’s in his room, jerking off with one of your panties clamped between his teeth, the faint hint of your scent got beads of precum leaking from his tip. “Fuck, baby,” he groans, the fabric brushing against his lips as he speaks. He also has your naughtiest pair laid out on his bed, stroking himself while he imagines how you looked the last time you wore them. But he isn’t just thinking about you wearing them— he’s picturing you bending over and teasing him before he takes them off.

“God, I need you so fucking bad,” he pumps his fist faster, breath ragged as he thinks about how they’ve clung to your body, remembering the warmth that once pressed against your skin. It’s dirty and it’s wrong but the thrill of it only makes him want you more. As he nears the edge, the thought of you catching him flashes into his mind. What if you suddenly walked in, finding him with your panties between his teeth, his cock in his hand? All your possible reactions make him shiver. Maybe you’d be embarrassed, perhaps you’d scold him— or maybe you’d join him, take control, and make him pay for being such a perv. The idea makes him cum hard as your name spills out of his mouth. Collapsing onto his bed, he can’t help but give an impish grin. He’s already waiting for the next time he’ll be with you, eager to find out if you've noticed and curious to see if you'd let it slide.

— ★ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

“I’m takin’ these.”

Toji doesn’t even bother with an explanation. He’s letting you know straight up that he’s stealing your panties after you’ve just had sex.

“But I won’t be wearing anything on my way home—” you protest, only that makes it better for him. Knowing that you’re walking around bare and that he’s to blame makes his face twist into a wicked smirk. Going commando with the fresh memory of him still between your thighs, while he keeps a piece of you with him— it's his messed-up version of romance, so somehow, you can't even be mad.

The next time he has a boner without you around, he’s pulling your panties out, burying his face in the fabric, and breathing you in. The scent of you makes his cock twitch painfully as he wraps them around it. The softness of them rubs him just right, delicately clinging to how hard he is. As he strokes himself, he imagines you out there, unprotected, thinking about how easy it would be to slip his hands down your waistband and feel nothing between your skin and his fingers. His breaths grow heavier, his thoughts dirtier, until he’s pumping faster. He’s almost drooling at the feeling of your panties against him and his mind is already racing with thoughts of what he’s going to do to you the next time you’re with him. But there’s something that gnaws at him, something insatiable that won’t let up. Grabbing his phone, he hits the video call button, not caring that it’s late or you might be busy. He needs to see you.

“Hello?” You answer.

“You alone?” He asks with a knowing smile playing on his lips.

You sigh, “Yes…”

“Just couldn’t stop thinkin’ about ya,” he confesses.

Your silence tells him that you were intrigued, waiting to see what kind of filthy bullshit he was going to involve you in this time. With a slow tilt of his phone, he shows you everything below his waist and resumes exactly where he left off. When you spot your panties, it must have been obvious because he chuckles out of saatisfaction, "Yeah, I thought you'd like that."

As he continues, he makes sure your focus is on him, not planning to stop until you're as hot and bothered as he is.

— ★ 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐉𝐈

Ah, Yuuji, Yuuji, Yuuji. The guy who lives across the hall from you, who’s always had a crush on you that you never noticed.  You run into him now and then at your apartment building’s laundromat— he’s the one who waves hello or makes small talk when he has the time. And that’s usually it. But you don’t see how he’s always eyeing that single piece of underwear peeking out from your basket of clean laundry. 

He wants to take it so badly. He knows he shouldn’t. But the temptation is too much and before he can stop himself, he’s slipping it into his pocket the moment you turn around, then scurrying back to his apartment with a mix of shame and excitement. Once inside, he tosses it on the sofa, trying to ignore it, but the more he stares at it, it’s harder to resist. The good in him wonders if he heads back now, would he be able to reverse what he’s done? But images of you walking around in what he’s stolen— of the fabric pressed between your ass as you sit on him— push every humane thought out of his mind.

As if his hands have a mind of their own, he’s got his dick out in the living room, in broad daylight, just trying to get his shameful boner over with. Grabbing the panties, he brings it to his nose, inhaling deeply as he fucks his fist, “Ugh… What am I doing?” he says under his breath but something twisted about the guilt pushes him further. His pace quickens, the stolen panties clutched tightly in his other hand. Yuuji knows he’s crossed the line but the idea of going for the real thing absolutely haunts him. You live so close yet remain so blissfully unaware, which only fuels his obsession.

With a strangled groan, he finally cums and his body shakes with the intensity of it. As his post-nut clarity sets in, a wave of regret crashes over him. It makes him want to run to you and apologise but the thought dissipates when he notices how some of his cum had soiled them. He stares at the mess, a sick blend of pleasure and something else churning in his gut. He decides he’ll clean them properly, and return them to the laundromat to disguise them as you accidentally forgetting them there. And he’ll just have to live with the knowledge of you possibly wearing them again, now stained with his secret.

— ★ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

Another one who was tempted by the clean laundry. He’s been over a few times and while you’d say you’re dating, there’s no official label to it yet. You’ve slept with him once and it was divine; his gentlemanly nature hasn’t faltered since. But something brings him deep shame. He hasn’t exactly stolen your panties but when he excused himself to your bathroom on one casual evening and saw your clean ones hanging on a small rack, his thoughts went straight to his dick.

Just in and out, he thought, needing to get his business done quickly and get out. But deep down, he knew he couldn’t resist, especially when he saw the same pair from the night you both shared a bed. He remembered how he fucked you while you had them on— how he’d push them to the side while he buried himself inside you and how he dragged his entire length up and down your folds beneath the fabric, his tip poking against the material as it slipped under your panties.

In and out, he reminded himself. But the memory of you was too much. He had to quickly get rid of this boner before leaving the bathroom so he unzipped his pants and started stroking himself, eyes locked on the panties as if he could hear the gasps and moans you made on that very night. He moved faster, his hands shaky as he tried to make as little noise as possible. It was only moments ago since he’d last seen you so your face was still fresh in his mind. Perhaps there was a chance for him to come clean but how could he when you were out there innocently preparing dinner for him? 

Nanami’s grip tightened around his cock and with a final groan, he came into his hand. He initially feels a pang of guilt but asks himself if this was really more sinful than the things he’d done to you directly. He cleans himself quickly, trying to steady his breath before rejoining you. And when he returns, you don’t suspect a thing from your respectful, soon-to-be boyfriend.

— ★ 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

Does it really count as stealing if it was something you were going to throw away anyway? He had ripped them off during sex, stuffing them in your mouth, so by the end of it all they were deemed unwearable. After railing you into oblivion, he pocketed your panties as if they were a trophy of some sort but actually forgot about them until he got home. The lingering smell of sex was still on them, and honestly, yeah… he could go for another round of emptying his balls.

He’s already fantasizing about you being pressed against him, beating his meat while he smothers himself with your scent, and biting into the fabric just to get a bit of your taste again. He knows they’re not something you’ll miss right away but a part of him wishes you do— imagining the cogs turning in your brain and the look of surprise on your little face when you realise you never actually threw them out and how they disappeared after Sukuna had left your home. 

This got him going and he was stroking even faster now, growling at how his hands snuck under your panties only for him to rip them apart. Opening you up like a gift, he remembered how it exposed your slick folds and the wetness that stained the fabric— all caused by him. “This is all f’me, huh?” He had said before diving into you. He bucks his hips into his fist, the picture of you taking his cock making him lose all senses. Sukuna was seriously one phone call away from driving back and fucking you all over again. 

He grunts lowly as his cum splutters all over your panties, his chest heaving while looking at the mess he’s made. He’s momentarily taken aback at the amount that spurted out despite getting some release earlier in the day. Just as he’s catching his breath, his phone rings and he smirks when he sees your name flashing across the screen.

“Calling so soon? You miss me or what?” He taunts you as he picks up the phone.

“Oh cut the crap, I know what you took. Return them to me!”

“Sweetheart, you can’t even wear them anymore.”

“...”

He sighs dramatically, “Alright, alright. I’ll come, but don’t expect me to be in a rush to leave.”

“Whatever, bye.” And you hang up abruptly. 

A grin forms on his face at how you’ll react when he hands them back to you, finding them more soiled and ruined than before.

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