#free your mind. the rest will follow
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absentlyabbie · 6 months ago
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it seems like so long ago, but i used to be a completionist, so i felt compelled to finish books and tv shows and such, even if it bored me or annoyed me or i just plain hated it.
mostly this meant a lot of suffering and irritation as i draaaagggged my way through finishing the thing, because being a completionist meant i wasn't allowed to move on to new books or shows or etc until i finished the one i had already stopped enjoying.
but then one day i broke free of these chains of self flagellation and stopped putting myself through that bullshit for absolutely no good reason.
i will drop anything now. book has stupid worldbuilding or won't stop overusing/misusing That One Word to death? ditch the bitch. tv show has become infuriating with bad writing choices or wildly inconsistent internal logic/backstory or keeps making incomprehensible shifts in characterization? let the trash take itself out.
we are supposed to be doing these things for fun. if i'm not having a good time, why am i still here? always remember the guiding principle in these situations, babes:
if it sucks, hit da bricks.
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rosicheeks · 10 months ago
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Hello my sweet soft trophy,
I see you are in sad girl hours and I am here to say that whilst I am all for you feeling your feelings, I will not let you put yourself down.
Every time you have graced us with a full face reveal it’s like a literal angel has appeared on my timeline. When you post pics of yourself it makes me start to believe in a creator because only some divine being could create something as beautiful as you.
You may be struggling to see the beauty in yourself right now but I guarantee there are people out there willing to give all their earthly possessions just to hold your hand.
These feelings will pass, my treasure, I promise.
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honey-tongued-devil · 4 months ago
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Arcane characters finding you asleep at their workplace
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The devil works hard, but I work a little harder, so I’m back to writing Arcane headcanons a month before season two comes out.
Jayce:  
- Strong sense of guilt,  
- The first thing that comes to his mind is that you must have waited for him for a long time to fall asleep 
- He will make it up to you by trying to cook something for you, stopping to buy your favorite sweets before heading home, and giving you a shoulder massage the moment you sit down somewhere after you wake up.  
- The man of the Hamlet-like dilemma: he doesn’t want to wake you, but he also doesn’t want you to be uncomfortable.  
- If he has something urgent to do, he’ll try to cover your shoulders with something, even just his jacket, to keep you warm while he finishes only the essentials.  
- Once he’s free, he will very gently try to lift you from the chair, apologizing when you wake up and mumble something incoherent.  
Viktor:  
- In the early years of university, it sometimes happened that he found you in his room asleep, slumped over on a chair or bed with your shoes still on.  
- But as the years went by and the lab became his main space, that sight became a constant, repeating at least twice a week.  
- He tries to make as little noise as possible, whether with his aides, the door, or the stack of books and notebooks he needs to organize.  
- Before getting to work, he leaves the room again to bring you your favorite hot drink with a plastic lid pressed on top, so it doesn’t cool down.  
- Then, in complete silence, he works, deciding what to leave for tomorrow and what to do now, so he can finish as soon as possible without delaying too much.  
Ekko:  
- It’s hard to define what exactly a workplace is for Ekko,  
- But he often finds you at the Firelights' tree, in that room that’s supposed to be his, having likely sneaked in through the window to surprise him.  
- There are days when he comes back fairly early but stays to tell stories to the kids, and others when things go wrong, and he returns when it’s already dark, and almost everyone is asleep
- Finding you like this always makes him feel the absence of something more stable
- But he shakes his head and quickly pushes aside doubts about his ideals, stepping out of the room again and making more noise as he enters again, so you wake up, and he can pretend to be surprised in front of your open eyes.  
- By now, you know he steps out and comes back in, but it makes you smile every single time.
Vander:  
- You always sit at a table in the back of the Last Drop to wait for him, trying not to bother him, doodling, doing calculations, or planning something for the next day just to keep yourself entertained.  
- But by now, the sound of drunkards and the clinking of coins and glasses have become background noise that helps lull you into a catatonic state.  
- Vander usually notices after about an hour that you've fallen asleep; he always keeps an eye on you, but sometimes the customers cause problems.  
- He doesn’t like leaving you there, so far away, so he usually waits for a quieter moment to come over, pick you up, and bring you behind the counter, laying you down with your arms and head resting on the wooden bar.  
- He knows it’s not a big improvement, but his priority is to keep you safe.  
- When he finishes working, he closes the bar without doing the closing duties, sets his alarm for earlier than usual, and carries you to your room in his arms, covering your forehead with kisses.  
Silco:  
- The problem with Silco finding you asleep in his office is that he rarely arrives alone.  
- There’s always either Sevika or at least two other henchmen following him.  
- He sighs and sends them away, not without Sevika giving him a provocative look that means everything and nothing.  
- He hates those situations because part of him feels a strange warmth at the thought of you sneaking into his office for whatever reason, but on the other hand, he knows it negatively affects his image to be seen as a leader who tolerates certain insubordinations.  
- Because sneaking into the kingpin’s office is something that would get almost anyone else outside decapitated. But not you.  
- He huffs, pacing the room to deal with both emotions, and when he finally calms down, he approaches you, shaking you slightly to wake you up.  
- It’s certainly not the gentlest gesture on his part, but most of the time, it ends with you either going back to sleep in his bed while he works, or sitting on his lap while he flips through papers without paying them much attention.  
Jinx:  
- She can’t contain her excitement at all. When she notices your figure in her workshop, she always lets out a little happy sound that wakes you up.  
- From there, she immediately starts apologizing at least a thousand times, feeling guilty for waking you up but still too happy that you came to visit her.  
- She helps you up, talking nonstop about her day and anything that comes to mind as she leads you outside.  
- It’s not because she doesn’t want you around, but because she assumes you must be hungry as soon as you wake up, so before you're fully awake, you’ll find yourself at the Last Drop with enough food in front of you to feed her father’s entire gang of henchmen.  
- And she will absolutely feed you herself when she sees you haven’t taken a bite in too long, while stealing food here and there and continuing to talk.  
Vi:  
- For her, too, a "workplace" is a somewhat vague concept,  
- But in return, she has her secret spot, where she hides at night and tries to survive when she’s not out on the streets looking for trouble.  
- Every time she finds you there, she feels an indescribable pang in her heart.  
- She always feels like she’s neglecting the person she loves and failing to make you understand how much she cares about you.  
- She always hesitates before waking you up; sometimes she’ll even go change into clean clothes and wash the grime off her hands and face first.  
- Then she’ll wake you by sitting next to you, giving you a kiss, calling you by a silly nickname only the two of you know, and rubbing her forehead against yours before asking, with a rhetorical smile,  
- "Did you miss me?"
Caitlyn:  
- Sometimes you find yourself in the inner waiting room of the precinct, with her colleagues pointing out your body slumped in the chair and raising their eyebrows, teasing her. Other times, you simply sneak into her room, which isn’t much different from the police station anyway.  
- Every time, she sighs and gently wakes you, her pale eyes a little sad.  
- “Why didn’t you call me?” It doesn’t matter to her that you didn’t want to disturb her, because to her, you’re never a disturbance. It’s not a problem to have you around, even in public. She just feels bad that you waited instead of telling her, so she could have come much sooner.  
- She takes you away from the station without any issues, letting you continue resting against her shoulder as a Kiramman private vehicle takes you both to her home.  
- If you’re already in her room, she usually changes and lies down next to you, taking the chance to nap together, wrapped in each other's arms.  
Mel:  
- Falling asleep inside the Senate? Impossible.  
- But the keys to her office and her room are always in your pocket, and you usually bring her something to eat when you visit, though by the time you fall asleep, both the coffee and the treats are cold.  
- She’s not used to displays of affection, so she stays still for a few seconds before smiling and shaking her head.  
- She doesn’t wake you immediately, not because she doesn’t want to, but because if the sound of the door didn’t wake you, you probably need the rest. So she lets you sleep for at least 30 minutes before coming over, brushing your hair behind your ears to wake you, laughing when you lift your head with your eyes still closed.  
Sevika:  
- The first thing anyone would think is that falling asleep at the Last Drop is extremely dangerous. However, Silco’s henchmen aren’t too different from bipedal dogs by now; they know who you are, recognize your face and scent, and if they notice you’ve fallen asleep somewhere, at least three of them sit at your table to ensure your safety.  
- Sevika is always tasked with the worst imaginable jobs—tedious, long, and often dangerous—so when she finally returns, it’s usually either time to open the bar to the public or time to close it.  
- Even when she sees you, she can’t come to you right away, so she makes a face at whoever is watching over you, as if urging them to protect you better while she heads into the office.  
- Like Silco, part of her feels subconsciously softened by the idea that someone would feel the physical need to be with her so much that they’d wait, sitting until they fell asleep.  
- But on the other hand, she’s terrified that someone might see you and come after you to settle personal scores in a cowardly way.  
- When she finally comes down, she pulls you into her arms without saying a word, holding you under her large cape as she carries you away.  
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satorena · 4 months ago
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( P*SSY GOT ) P☆WER !?
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bad ☆ summary. converting a loser into a munch wasn’t on your yearly bingo card ( or was it ? )
content ★ warnings. explicit content. mdni. foul language. situationship!gojo. college au. cunningulus. frōtting. premature ejaculātion. fīngering. eventual smut. gojo pines for like 99% of the fic. he also studies in pornology. reader is kinda bratty. mention of death lightheartedly. a lot of italicized words. lowkey gojo centric? 6.4k words (bye).
rena’s ☆ note. SATORENA COMEBACK … sorta (・・?)
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“gimme a kiss.”
your face scrunches before the words can express your distaste. with your hand on the handle of his car’s door, your fingers tighten around the metal bar, half tempted to leave the man at your left— rosy lips puckered into an obnoxious smooch.
his eyelids are shut tight as his brows furrow to the centre of his forehead, face leaned in. you chuckle at his theatrics, lifting your free hand to press your digits at his pucker. his eyelids open as his brows now loosen, “gojo, bye.”
you feel his hands wrap around your wrist, gently lifting your hand off his mouth, though your fingers hover over his lips still, “girl.” he tilts his head to the side, emitting an aura of sass you’ve yet to understand, “it’s satoru to you— i can’t even have a little one? haven’t i been good all day?”
you click your tongue, “you been runnin’ your mouth all day long actually,” and before your mind can even process your following words, you focus on the way his plump lips fall into another one of his childish pouts. cute. however he chooses to take your invitation is all up to him. your eyes dart to the rosy flesh as you hum, “mhm, if only you ate pussy as good as you talk shit.”
you feel the hold on your wrist drop, as his frown switches to a blank stare. you cock a brow, watching as the hand his steering wheel tightens.
he gulps, eyes narrowing before glancing over to the leather wheel, “i, uh, don’t eat pussy.”
oh. . . oh.
the slam of the car door speaks the rest for you.
“woah— hey!” gojo yells after you, though your figure seems to get smaller with the steps you take. in your hold is your purse, bouquet of flowers he’d bought earlier and house keys. “baby, hold on— this damn window,” he cusses, removing the barrier between you and him angrily. you hadn’t even hesitated to exit the car, as if he’d said the world’s most vile comment.
you’re not listening, and for some reason gojo feels his heart sink to the bottom of his stomach. what the fuck had he said that made you all upset with him?
he watches helplessly as you insert your key into the hole. the chiming sounds of your keys serve as a reminder that he was definitely in trouble. that and he wasn’t getting his damn goodbye kiss.
he sighs instead, albeit defeatedly. “am i at least gonna see you soon?”
the front door opens and you look back over your shoulder, and god— he really thought he had it. his lips threaten to pull into a smile, ready for your little mood to be over with.
you grin and as does he. you even give him a cute wave, thank fuck, “have yourself a nice life, baby.”
and the front door closes. damn.
☆ ☆
“you said what?!”
gojo groans into the phone, sprawling himself on his king sized mattress that suddenly feels way to big for him alone. where were you when he needed you? oh that’s right, “she ghosted me! i’m blocked on all socials— can you believe that?”
he tried reaching out to you through texts to make sure you were feeling okay, but the shade of green told him everything he needed to know— especially as an apple user. he then proceeded to go through your social media, to double check his suspicions and there it was, user not found.
“uh, duh?” geto is as judgemental as ever, and gojo doesn’t try to suppress the roll of his eyes. “bro, you just told the girl you’re talkin’ to that you don’t give head. the fuck d’you think was gonna happen?”
“it’s not even a big deal!” he argues because his pride in on the line, and he ignores the groan geto gives him across the phone. rude. his fingers pinch at the top of his nose bridge, “was it really necessary to block me? literally just tell me to kill myself at this point.”
“pretty sure that’s what she blocked you for.” geto snickers, and gojo realizes he’s lucky they aren’t in person because he would have blocked him. instead he whines, pressing the speaker button before stuffing his face in his pillow. he’s probably insane but he swears there’s a hint of your scent there, and now he’s whining louder.
“quit bitchin’. you brought this upon yourself,” and out of spite, gojo whines louder. if his legs kick against his mattress childishly, it’s nobody’s business but his own. the love of his life just walked out of his life— give him a break. “and dude, no shade but do you really not eat pussy? are you gay or somethin’?”
“i am not—” he cuts himself off once the sound of his own voice echoes loudly in his lonely room. geto winces and gojo bites down on his tongue before sighing. “i’m not gay. i love women only. seriously. how does not eating pussy make me gay?”
the line goes quiet, and gojo can tell geto’s making that face he makes whenever he’s finding the right words to say without offending gojo. it ticks him off. “alright, lemme counter that question with one of my own. why don’t you eat pussy?”
gojo pauses. he tightens his fingers around his pillow as the question ponders. he thinks about having received head in the back of his car once, the other time in the bathroom of some frat party, and another in some girl’s bedroom. from all memories, he draws a similar conclusion— they always come onto him first.
“i dunno.” his lips fall into a pout, tracing patterns into his pillowcase with his index. “they never really ask, so i never bothered. that can’t be weird, right? all of my hookups have consisted of them pulling my pants down. why would i refuse? i get my nut and that’s that.”
and because geto is genuinely never on his side, “satoru . . . eugh.” some kind of best friend is he.
“what?!” he hisses in retaliation, glaring at his phone as if it would solve his issues. there’s nothing he hates more than feeling judged. “you fucking asked!”
“calm the fuck down,” he hears geto rolling his eyes. the white haired man huffs, the blow of air pushing his bangs up before they fall back down. okay, maybe he should calm down. whatever. “so essentially what you’re saying is you’ve never been put in a position where you could eat pussy?”
something like that, “sure.” gojo nods, and he doesn’t understand why geto sighs.
“why do i even bother?” though the answer is clear, he’s pretty sure geto was talking to himself. gojo clicks his tongue, ready to bark back but geto beats him to it. “so tell her just that— it’s not that you won’t give head, it’s just that you haven’t given head. which still blows me, but whatever.”
“how? remember she blocked me on everything?” the thought makes gojo whine again, throwing his limbs all over his bed. he hits his phone, then opts to grab it. “is that not entitlement? i have to bend my back all over the damn place just to get her to talk to me again?”
“satoru, you’ve literally done the same thing. don’t act like you’re above it,” geto chuckles and gojo hears shuffling in the background. the ravenette sighs in relief, and he assumes he’s now in his own bed. “besides, you fuckin’ love women who give you challenges.”
and fuck, he’s really not wrong. “yeahhh, you know me so well.” he wipes a fake tear from his eye. he rolls over onto his back, “welp, i’m gonna log into your insta to stalk her account. i miss her so much i’m literally gonna die.”
“satoru.” geto warns him, but gojo is quicker than that. he’s already typing your name into the search bar, username memorized as if it were his cellphone number.“i swear to god if you accidentally like her shit—”
“thanks bestie, love ya lots!” and he hangs up the phone. and with a shit eating grin, he giggles, “time to start lurking.”
☆ ☆
so it’s been months (read: four days) since he last seen you. he’s thankful you’re at least in two of his courses, so he has some sort of opportunity to reach you. he’d spent the last months (hours) stalking your page, viewing your stories to see if there’d been any indicator that you missed him as badly as he missed you.
and all he’s gotten so far is that you spent friday out to dinner (with him) (it was just a mirror pic of your outfit but an outfit you wore on a date with him) (you love him so bad), you had a girls’ night on saturday with shoko and utahime (he barely registered they were in the selfie) and sunday was a study sesh you had at the cafe across the college. he had to screenshot and zoom in to ensure there were no signs of living souls in the same booth as you.
he was still in the clear. whew.
and so monday morning falls, and he’s actually rushing to get to class for once (late but as expected). the one of two classes he shares with you. he hopes he’ll find you sitting in your habitual seat, not too far up close yet not too far back, and he might pull the fire alarm if he spots anybody next to you.
he’s a man on a mission— he’s going to talk to you today. he needs to be back in your good graces. there were many things he wanted to yap to you about, many places he thought of taking you over the weekend, many moments he wanted your soft lips back on his and your gentle hand back in his own.
he misses you, damn it.
there you sit, in all your glory, shining so bright in the middle of this depressing ass psychology course in the early hours of the butt fuck morning. he sees you twirling your pen in between your fingers, your cheek leaned into the palm of your hand— and nobody by your side.
if he rushes and trips over his feet momentarily to get to you in time, it’s nobody’s business but his own (and the girl who’s backpack laid useless on the floor. hazard much.)
he so much as plops into the seat as he does actually sit in it, and he watches as you jerk in surprise. though, the look of surprise is quickly replaced by aloofness. you feel different— not entirely closed off but not as welcoming as you usually are. you’re probably still done with him.
well it’s too damn bad he’s not done with you, “good morning, princess.”
you blink at him, before nodding your head curtly. “morning, gojo.” and you turn your focus back onto the professor. just like that, you shut down another conversation.
he doesn’t like that, and so he pokes at your side and chews at his strawberry gum. “you blocked me on everything.”
“i did.” you answer shortly, though your eyes never leave the professor. he cannot be that interesting, who actually gives a fuck about cognitive dissonance?
“seen this new bakery shop down the street.” he tries again. “wanted to take you but that was impossible because somebody blocked me.”
“i mean, you know where i live.” you shrug, writing whatever the fuck the professor had mentioned in your notebook. wait, what? you turn your head to see him gaping at you in confusion, and you smirk at his silence.
“cat got your tongue?” you quip, amused by his stillness. your eyes sparkle mischievously, though your smile isn’t entirely full. don’t tell him, you’ve been— “too bad it’s not mine, though.”
ohhh, you cheeky brat.
“so. . . you were never really mad at me?” gojo blinks, his mind running miles a second. nothing was adding up, he was positively certain you were cutting ties with him. “this whole time. you weren’t mad about the pussy eating comment?”
“don’t get it twisted,” you raise a brow, crossing your arms over your chest. you lift a finger in the air before pointing at him, “you,” and then pointing at yourself “and i are done. we can still be cool but i’m not wasting my time with no bitch—respectfully.”
“so you are mad?” he asks again, disregarding the bitch comment. he knows what he’s supposed to say— to clarify the situation, to make it known that it’s not like he’s repulsed by the idea of giving head— but you make it so hard to stay on track when you’re acting defiant.
suguru was right— he does love a challenge.
“mad?” you giggle, and gojo leans back in his seat. damn, you’re confusing. stone cold one minute but all giggly the next. it’s cool, he’ll figure you out. “i ain’t trippin’ baby— if you don’t wanna eat it then don’t. another man definitely will.”
huh, “oh?” his eyes narrow just slightly, though the smirk on his lips never falter. he ignores the way his stomach just dropped to his ass at your implication— there is no way in hell is he letting another man have you. not when he’s still alive and breathing. “if you think i’m letting that happen, you’ve got another thing comin’.”
“everything seems to be coming but me,” you bat your lashes, and damn he fell right into that one. you drop your pen down, giving him one last smile before redirecting your focus to the professor before you. “the real question is what do you plan on doing ‘bout that?”
you give him no time to respond, and it’s not like he thinks he would be able to, as you begin to pack your belongings into your tote bag. you’re leaving and he barely got to say what he’d been memorizing all weekend. oh well, at least he now knows you haven’t entirely cut him off.
if he doesn’t knows better, it feels like you want him to chase after you.
god, he thinks he’s in love.
☆ ☆
gojo satoru is amazing at everything. there truly isn’t something he can do that won’t come out spectacular. he’s gifted, that he knows much, and it’s difficult to stay humble when he’s constantly reminded of so.
“i can easily do this shit.” he mumbles to himself, cerulean eyes narrowing into focus at the bright lit screen of his ipad. his airpods are in, and he’s gonna be completely honest— the pornstar’s screaming is starting to get on his nerve. however, he’s always been an exceptional student and when it’s time to lock in, it’s time to lock in.
his legs feel as though they’ve fallen asleep in the criss-cross position he’s been sat in on his bed for the past two hours. irrelevant, he decides as he picks at his bottom lip with his fingers. his device is running hot with how long it’s been since it last caught a break, but he had bigger issues to worry about. so, basically all he has to do is spread open her lips and go to town until she squirts? sounds simple enough.
he watches as the guy begins motorboating into the girl’s pussy and— “damn, that looks like it hurts.” a grimace creeps onto his face as the guy repeatedly goes ham on swollen red lips. he’s got half a mind telling him that the moans the girl’s letting out are entirely out of agony and not pleasure.
“aaaalrighty,” gojo speaks up, though to himself. “next video, that shit was ass. pussy hurts just thinkin’ bout it, eugh.”
he finds an amateur video, and the thumbnail seemed intimate enough. after an agonizing ad of ‘want a quick break from the ads?’, the video begins. the upper half of the woman’s body is cut out of frame, but she’s laid onto her side, her backside in view. her top leg lifted just slightly, the man lays on his stomach and spreads them apart further and begins to lick.
he dives his tongue inside her cunt, not too sloppy, and gently works his way in. his thumb is caressing at her puckered forbidden zone, always gently, as his tongue glides up and down her labia.
gojo gulps. the girl makes soft sounds, hand coming down to play her the man’s hair, and he proceeds eat her out skillfully. her back arches, she whines and begs for more, and he never loses control. at some point, the hand that focused on her asshole moves up to grip at her cheeks, thus spreading her pussy lips further. she’s already wet from a mixture of fluids, and the sound it creates is so damn obscene.
gojo gulps again, and his sweats feel tight.
before his mind can even allow it, he’s thinking of you. he thinks of you on your side, legs spread open for his disposition as he brings you this same pleasure. as he lays himself on his stomach, munching at your pussy in ways that’ll have you squirming all over his bed, squeezing your plush thighs around his head and begging for him to give you more.
he thinks of how good you’d smell— how good you’d taste. he thinks of how nice you smell whenever you wrap your arms around his neck and he follows suit around your waist. he thinks of how sweet your lips taste when you’re straddling his thighs and slipping your tongue in his mouth.
pheromones are a crazy thing. your scent lingering in his car alone drives him insane. he’s so prone to boners around you, it’s like he’s a dog you’ve trained.
and now he’s thinking he wants you in this very bed at this very instance, ipad be damned, pussy spread open so he can feast. so he can relish the sounds you make as you call out his name, enamoured by the way his tongue would flick at your clit and break open that dam of water right onto his face.
“shit.” he chucks his ipad onto the floor, cradling his head into the palms of his hands. how had he not ever wanted to do this before?
☆ ☆
he doesn’t expect you to pick up. it’s far past two in the morning on a thursday night, and he’s missing you. badly. he misses you and your sweet smile. he misses you and your smart mouth. he misses you and the way your lips move so fluidly against his own, as if they were made for one another.
he really doesn’t expect you to pick up.
it’s around the fifth ring that he hears your honeyed voice, “hi.” his eyes widen as he sits up from his bed in a hurry. talk about a damn surprise.
“hey.” he says back lamely, because of course he does. he feels the corner of his lips tugging into a smile and his heart is beating wildly against his rib cage. “didn’t think you’d answer.”
“mhm. so what’d you call me for?” you sound tired, and he wonders if you’d been sleeping when he called. somehow, the thought makes his stomach churn at the implication you cut off hours of sleep for him.
“just wanted to hear your voice.” gojo answers as honestly as he can, leaning down to rest his back back into the mattress of his bed. he shuts his eyes and imagines his arm falling asleep underneath your head, using him as a pillow. “been missin’ you.”
“you literally see me every other day at school,” he’s graced with the harmonious sounds of your giggles, and he can already picture the way your shoulders shake as dimples curve into your cheeks. “y’re so fuckin’ clingy.”
he supposes he is, can’t even find it in him to disagree. you’ve been plaguing his mind since you cut him off (question mark) last week. he wasn’t sure what kind of ban you were putting on him, but he’s been tiptoeing around his relationship with you for too long. the absence of your presence in the way he craves is driving him nuts. he misses you, damn it.
a longing sigh rips from his throat, “can’t help that i miss that ass,” he jokes instead because talking about feelings and vulnerability is wrong. “you still owe me a goodbye kiss, y’know? just left a poor guy hangin’, rude.”
“hmm,” you hum lazily and he isn’t sure what to expect. he’s just talking out of his ass, wants to restore that playful banter you guys had prior to this whole pussy eating mess— which he’d gladly now get on his knees and rock your fucking world. “like i said already, you know where i live.”
“you got one more time to say that before i show up at your doorstep for real,” gojo tests the waters, and swings his legs off his bed. he’s waiting for a sign, confirmation, anything to ensure you were being serious. late night be damned, he will show up to your door and flip your shit right then and there.
“the fuck i gotta repeat myself for?” you sigh, and gojo’s slipping his shoes on. he’s wasting no more time, he wants you right now. “if you really missed me you would have been come see me. you’re all talk.”
“so when i yell at your doorstep to lemme eat it, don’t start lookin’ at me crazy—i’m warning ya.” and with that he hangs up. he’s not leaving any more room for debates, enough’s enough. and shit, when the fuck had he gotten bricked?
he grabs his keys and slams his door close.
☆ ☆
you’re looking at him like he grew an extra head on his shoulders overnight. he’s looking at you like the tee you have on your body decimated his entire bloodline. there’s a heavy silence between you both, as if either one of you are expecting the other to make the first move.
“you actually came.” you blink in mild shock, neck craning up to look him dead in the eye. he’s panting heavily, he might’ve ran here the second he could, but how could he not have?
“enough games, baby.” gojo answers instead and takes a step into your apartment. you back up in retaliation, and he takes another close step. you stay still this time. his hands sneak below the hem of your shirt and slide up to your bare waist, grabbing onto the plush flesh. you feel jolts of electricity imbedded into your skin with every lingering touch. “lemme eat it, come on. please?”
“oh?” you cock an eyebrow, raising a hand to press your palm flat against the plane of his chest. you feel his heartbeat thudding wildly. “and here i thought you were too good to stoop as low as giving women head.”
gojo clicks his tongue and tightens his hold on you. “i never said that.”
“you basically did.” you bite back, tilting your head to the side. you see his nostrils flare a bit, “or does that rule apply with just me?”
“if it did, would i be here at three in the morning begging to eat your pussy?” gojo rolls his eyes. you open your mouth but snap it back shut and gojo decides you conceded. he lifts you from the ground and places you on his shoulder, ignoring your ‘put me down!’ and opts to shut you up with a firm slap on your ass.
your cheeks jiggle from the impact, and his dick twitches in his briefs. as he suspected, you’ve got no bottoms on— just a cute pair of pink lace panties he wants to tear apart with his teeth. animalistic is what you make him.
“so. . . which one is your room?” he finds himself in the corridor, arm wrapped around the back of your knees. you fall limp in his hold, defeatedly as your arm lifts to point at the door at the end of the hall. he smirks and rubs at your booty, “atta girl. look at ya bein’ all obedient and shit.”
“shut up.” you huff, and he would bet a million dollars you’ve got that adorable pout on your lips. the one you make whenever you don’t get something done the way you planned.
your bedroom is everything he expected from you, fits your personality just about right. but—respectfully, fuck your bedroom. he’s got bigger issues to address, and that can only be done with your panties on the floor and a mouth full of your cunt. his dick is twitching uncontrollably at the thought of it alone.
“if you drop me on this bed, i swear i’m gonna kill you.” tilting your head, you warn him once he stands next to the edge of your bed frame. though a moot point, because if you know gojo as well as you think you do, you’re about to meet your duvets face first.
“mhm, what was that?” cupping a hand behind his ear, he pretends innocence then proceeds to do exactly what you warned him not to do. him and his long ass limbs, manhandling you all over the damn place as if its in his birthright. and no, it does not make your cunt clench, despite your thighs rubbing one against another. “sorry shortie, think i missed what you said.”
when you’re finally able to gain composure, you sit up on your elbows and furrow your brows in the nastiest scowl you can muster. he stands right above you, his frame so large it both annoys and turns you on. “gojo, you stupid fucking—”
you want to slap the smile off his face. “yeah, yeah.” he cuts you off, before leaning down to hover over you. his arms are pinned at your side, upper body pressing against yours. you feel the weight of his hips pressing into your legs, and so you widen the space. he fits in just as perfectly as you’d imagined he would. the tip of his nose brushes yours, biceps flexing in your peripherals. you feel his breath fanning at your cupid’s bow, warm yet it leaves shivers creeping at your spine.
“think you owe me somethin’, princess.” his voice comes out in a low growl, from the depths of his chest. his presence is so dominating— his bulge pressed right up against your aching cunt, the feel of his heartbeat right against yours. it all feels dizzying, the scent of his cologne filling up your nostrils and clouding any better sense of judgement.
he’s teasing you— leans in, brushes his soft lips against yours and watches as you lean forward to capture them but pulls away just in nick of time. he loves every one of your facial expressions, especially that adorable scowl of yours. he can’t wait to see the faces you make when you’re in absolute bliss.
he tilts his head just slightly, practically mouthing the words into your parted mouth. and with a low chuckle, he speaks, “if you want it, take it.”
you might’ve folded first, but he kisses you back just as eagerly, lips moulding into one another. you feel him sigh into your mouth, as if you’d relieved him of all stresses weighing on his shoulders. you lift a hand to cup at the back of his neck, fingernails scratching at the undercut at his nape.
gojo shudders beneath your touch, rolling his hips deeper into yours and relishes in the way you moan softly into his mouth. he wants to drink up every single sound you make, wants to discover your body’s sensitive spots and maneuver them into making a mess out of you.
your neck soon begins to ache, and almost as if he can read your mind, pushing deeper into you as you fall back onto your bed. he never takes his lips off of yours— not when the hold in his hair lowers in favour to grip at his biceps or stroke his back, not even when your legs wrap tightly at his waist. at a particular grind, you moan louder than any other sound you’d made all night, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.
“gojo,” you whine into his mouth, fingers clawing at his compression tee. he continues to roll his bulge into your clothed cunt, aiming at that spot that has you arching your back off the bed and into him. he grips a hand tightly at your plush thigh, his hold so hard you’re certain he’ll leave bruises. “you said y-you’d eat it. be a man of your, ngh, word.”
“yeah, that’s right,” he pulls away finally, a thin string of saliva connecting both your lips. he pecks at your kiss bitten lips, the dazed look in your eyes igniting a fire deep in his gut. “gotta keep my promise— can’t keep my baby waitin’ too long,” you feel his lips trail from the corner of your lips to the slope of your jaw, “she gets all cranky an’ pissy.” from the column on your neck to your collarbone, “starts gettin’ all mean with me.”
“oh my gosh, shut up!” you complain, though your hold on him tightens. you feel the vibrations of his chuckles at your jugular, followed by a deep plunge on his teeth at the thin layer of skin and another agonizingly slow grind against your clit. “fuckin’— shit— hurry up already!”
“tsk, see what i mean?” gojo tuts, hands sliding down the curves at your torso. you feel his large fingers play with the material of your panties, rolling the lace between forefingers. the contrast of the coolness of his rings against your heated skin adds a strange stimulation to your senses. “so mouthy, ‘m gonna have to do somethin’ about that.”
“i’m mouthy?” you squawk, watching as he lifts your tee up from your body. he taps wordlessly at your waist and you understand to remove the article of clothing. you chuck the tee across the room, before redirecting your focus on the man peppering wet kisses all over your stomach. it leaves butterflies rattling inside. “you literally cannot shut the fuck up— what’s the hold up? awe, don’t tell me you can’t walk the talk?”
he pauses for a bit. he doesn’t let himself fall bait for your words. you’re just being bratty— all hot and bothered and can’t properly ask for what you need. you don’t have to worry, he’s here entirely for your pleasure. he isn’t even thinking about the way his cock throbs painfully in his boxers, doesn’t even attempt to relieve it at all.
and so, he kneels at the edge of the bed. with two large hands cupping at your hips, he pulls you closer to him and rests your thighs on his shoulders. he watches as your chest rises up and down, and you prop yourself back onto your elbows.
your eyes are misty, your lips swollen and wet, your hair a mess and your neck littered in marks that scream gojo. you already look fucked out and he hadn’t done shit. god, he can’t wait to stuff his face between your thighs.
“i got you baby,” he drags his index finger right in the center of your cunt. he can both feel and see the material dampen with your arousal, your hips squirming as you chase for more. he licks his lips as he narrows in on the treasure, he swears he hears his stomach growling. “promise i do. just relax for me, yeah?”
“whatever.” you mumble, and comply to his order. he calls you a good girl, before stroking at your clit some more. the reactions you give will forever be imprinted in his mind, fleeting touches already granting him the opportunity to hear your delicate voice once more. you may be impatient but gojo is worse, and he decides that he wants to see your cunt now. he pushes your panties to the side, and the sight he’s rewarded with nearly— nearly, had him cumming right on two knees.
gojo gulps. “holy shit,” he feels his voice waver in excitement, eyes widened as he stares dead on. your cunt clenches around nothing from the switch of temperature, oozing more of your arousal down to your sheets. your pussy lips are puffy, clit sitting atop so prettily and damn, he wants to hump something.
he isn’t sure why but you try to close your thighs together, rude much, though gojo is much stronger. he keeps them spread wide, and shoots you a look. “do not.”
“tsk.” you click your tongue, looking away. and, oh, are you shy? “stop staring, you fuckin’ weirdo.”
he’s too far enamoured by the slick dribbling from your tiny hole down the crack of your ass. it trickles so tauntingly, that he finds himself nearly jealous. he wishes he could be there— oh wait, “just appreciatin’ my meal before i eat, sue me.”
the pad of his thumb collects your juices before popping it into his mouth. “wow,” he mumbles, more so to himself, at your taste bursting onto his taste buds. it’s so undoubtedly you, a raw and truthful you, and he gives you no warning before diving right in.
“fuckkk,” you throw your head back, hand flying to grab at the nearest thing in your vicinity— which so happens to be tousled, fluffy hair.
so, first time for everything right? but gojo maneuvers his way into your pussy as if he’d done this before. he starts off with kitten licks, teasing you some more before flattening his tongue and dragging it up and down your lips. he swallows and moans into your cunt, fingers digging deep into the back of your thighs.
he’s practically making out with your pussy. he doesn’t neglect any area, not even the clit surprisingly, as he latches his lips to the bundle of nerves and lightly nibbles. now that has your back arching and pushing his head deeper into you. if there was a way to go in life, he’d gladly take this death.
he’s so painfully hard it hurts, unable to control the way his hips grind against the bed frame. your scent is driving him feral, the way you tug on his hair harshly has his balls tightening and the way you cry out his name makes him want to imprint his name inside of you.
“s-satoru!” oh god, you’ve done it. you finally said his first name and he’s this close to painting his briefs white in shame. he continues to flick his tongue inside your hole and similar strokes to his humping. “you’re doin’ s’gooddd baby, shit!”
keep praising him and he’s gonna bust. he lifts himself away from your pussy, eyeing the gooey center almost offensively, “why the fuck do you taste so good?” he lands a wad of spit down, as he brings two digits to properly rub his saliva into your essence. the sounds it produces are so wet, it’s damn near filthy. he clicks his tongue, “seriously. ‘s makin’ me mad almost.” he slaps at your cunt twice, watching how your spray down his wrist.
“you s-sure this is your first, hnng, time?” you accuse, to the best of your abilities, as you feel him slip a finger in. you’re so lubricated, the slip inside was easy. pushing past that first ring of muscle, he’s pumping in and out of your cunt with precision, curling his digit as if he’s aiming to find a specific area. “y’know too much— mmph, fuckin’ liar.”
when he thrusts into a specific angle, your thighs tremble terribly around his head. he smirks, found it. “watched a lotta porn.” and he isn’t lying, he thinks back to how he studied the arts of cunningulus, and recalls the double combo. he has to try it, so he’s back to sucking and nibbling at your clit while adding an extra finger inside.
“oh my goddd,” you whine, feeling your limbs liquify in heat from every extremity. he pushes your knee further into your chest, and so you grab ahold of both your thighs. he hums approvingly, dragging his free hand along the soft skin of your legs. “don’t— don’t stop, please don’t stop,”
your toes are curled, back off the mattress and the pain in his scalp is shooting straight down to his cock. he’s rutting and rutting into the wooden frame, the flat surface painfully teasing though it does do the job. or maybe he has you to blame.
he feels saliva dripping down his chin, the way his tongue slides into your folds and feels his knuckles in there. his fingers move in scissoring motions, rotating circles, in and out— all the while repeatedly attacking your golden spot.
you severely underestimated him, and can barely process the orgasm that rips through you when he presses a hand onto your lower belly, “‘m cumming, fuck, ngh, don’t stop—” and you wail, fingernails clawing intensely into his tresses, torn between pushing him away and pulling him in closer. he decides to make that decision for you, stuffing himself as deep as possible to not miss a single drop, and your thighs clench against his ears.
so, gojo satoru is a shameless man. as you flood into his mouth and onto his face, grinding out your orgasm and using him as nothing but a toy for your own high— somewhere along the lines, he feels his briefs are sticky. he moans sluttily into your pussy, hips twitching incessantly as his cock shoots loads of nut into his boxers.
it feels like an eternity yet simultaneously a second when you’ve come down from your high, body twitching as gojo slows down his movements, his finger pumps gradually lessening in intensity and the kitten licks on your abused clit coming to a halt.
his face is soaked. his skin feels moist and damp, a thick air of humidity beginning to grow in the room, but he genuinely couldn’t care less. his eyes are stuck on you, limbs sprawled out limply against your bed, your chest heaving, tiny breaths coming out of your mouth.
he slides out his aching fingers, and pops them back in his mouth, tongue wrapping around his digits so eagerly, basking in your taste once more. absolutely divine,
“christ, i’d make a nasty pornstar.”
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gojo won the poll. . . everybody act surprised (°_°)
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giannic · 8 months ago
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thesophistiicate · 4 months ago
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sweet daily rituals for a calm life 🕊️
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+ morning coffee or tea ritual: start your day with a carefully prepared cup of coffee or tea, and if you can, enjoy it slowly somewhere cosy, with a book or soft music in the background.
+ journalling ritual: whether it's morning pages or an end-of-day debrief, consider free-flow journalling to unclog your thoughts, face any problems, and deal with your emotions.
+ skincare ritual: develop a luxurious skincare routine, slowing down to pay real attention and care to your body. consider adding in lymphatic massage, too.
+ mindful cooking: allow cooking to be a meditative process, taking time to choose fresh, seasonal ingredients, explore new recipes, and enjoy the hands-on experience of being in the kitchen. set the table with care, even for simple meals, using beautiful dishes and linens.
+ midday break: decompress and take a quiet break in the middle of the day, perhaps with a short walk through a nearby park or a few minutes of journaling. pause and reflect on how you are feeling and how you want to feel for the rest of the day.
+ afternoon tea or snack: enjoy a piece of dark chocolate, some fresh fruit, delicious cheese, or a small pastry, served on a delicate tray or vintage plate, for a moment of indulgence.
+ evening wind-down: in the evening, unwind with a bath or hot shower, surrounded by soft candlelight and soothing music, followed by changing into comfortable, elegant loungewear or pyjamas. this could be a time for reading, listening to music, spending time with your partner, or enjoying a classic film.
+ home care: pay daily attention to your living space and cultivate a serene and inviting atmosphere by tidying up, clearing away clutter, arranging fresh flowers, and lighting a candle or two.
+ gratitude practice: take a few moments for reflection and gratitude, appreciating the small, beautiful moments that made your day special.
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sleepymarimo · 6 months ago
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toji x reader // sfw!
𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 doesn’t remember the last time he was gifted something.
“you got me what?” he asks again, kicking his sandals off at your front door for what seems like the millionth time.
you rise from your couch, the wood creaking slightly as you do so. “just some stuff for you to keep here so you stop using mine,” you reply, the shrug of your shoulders indicating how little of a deal it is.
in the kitchen, you rinse out the glass you’d been using. toji’s footsteps are barely audible over the sound of running water.
“there’s a few pairs of sweats in the hall closet,” you tell him, setting the glass down to dry. “and some other stuff in the bathroom. shampoo, body wash, toothbrush…”
the assassin lets out a small huff, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorway. “you tellin’ me i reek or something?” he accuses, more so to brush off the odd feeling building in his gut.
“maybe.” comes your playful quip, your head tilting as you rest your weight on the counter and look at him. “but seriously, you just come around so often,”- his nose wrinkles at that, as he knows he crashes here much more than he should- “that i figured i’d just get you your own things. it’s not like it cost me an arm and a leg.”
with a yawn you stroll toward your room, lightly poking his chest as you pass him. “plus, you use up all of my stuff, dummy.”
he grunts, his eyes following you until you’re out of sight. “i don’t need fancy clothes or any of that crap,” he murmurs to himself, taking a few steps toward the hall closet.
his large hands wrap around the handles, sliding the doors open until he sees a pile of clothes resting on one of the shelves. three black tees stacked atop three pairs of sweats, some boxers and socks in a little box, all for him.
he picks up a shirt without hesitation, the fabric smooth against his calloused fingers. his brows furrow in concentration, maybe unease. this is for him, it’s his, and maybe that’s why this shirt is the softest one he’s ever felt.
with a gruff exhale, he snatches a pair of sweats and a clean pair of boxers, his steps unhurried as he heads for the bathroom.
the fan hums above him as the lock clicks into place, his eyes immediately darting to the shelves to see the new toiletries. his stuff.
inside the shower, toji’s shoulders sag.
it’s as if the water is washing away his defenses, the rugged, nonchalant exterior he wears now melting away in the comfort of your shower.
toji pops open one of the new shampoo bottles, taking in the scent and pouring it onto his palm. he wonders if this smell reminds you of him, if you put some thought into each item.
while he rubs it into his hair, he thinks about if he should pay you back. it’s not like he asked you to get him all this stuff, but still.
even when you’d first started letting him crash on your couch, you hadn’t demanded much in return.
“just don’t make a big mess and be decent, alright?” he remembers you saying.
and he was just fine with that. free room and board just for something so simple? he’d be a moron to decline.
it was only after around a week that he felt a familiar itch. he wouldn’t be in your debt, wouldn’t wait for the day when you’d inevitably ask for something.
so, he offered what he always did- himself. that’s what women usually wanted from him, anyway.
his idea didn’t exactly go as planned. if anything, it made him feel more conflicted, made him wonder why the hell you kept him around.
were you just lonely? did you enjoy his company?
“oh, no… i don’t do that,” you’d said, holding your hands up, flustered but adamant. “you don’t have to sell yourself to me or anything. who does that? like, what?”
the water patters on the tile floor, his body and mind feeling more clear and clean than they’ve been in a long time.
when the faucet squeaks shut, he steps out and snorts as he sees a new, fluffy black towel hanging beside yours behind the bathroom door. he grabs it, rubbing his scarred skin dry and running it through the damp strands of his hair.
the new clothes feel like heaven, truly.
in your room, engrossed by your phone, you barely hear the sound of the bathroom door opening. toji’s steps are almost silent, his arms crossing over his chest as he watches you beneath the covers.
he’s amused as you snicker at some post, the dim screen lighting up your face in the otherwise dark room.
“let me crash here, yeah?” he suggests, though it’s more of an order.
you’re startled, rightfully so, hiding your phone against your chest while you sit up straighter. “oh, you scared me! new clothes and you think you’re all that, huh? too good for the couch?”
yet, even as you chide him, you’re peeling back the covers for him, grabbing the extra pillows and moving them out of the way.
a satisfied grunt leaves him as he spreads out on the mattress, careless of the space he takes up. he tugs the blankets over his person, settling in like a big cat.
he curls into you. you don’t mind.
while you scroll along with one hand, the other supports his head and absentmindedly strokes the skin of his cheek.
his eyes watch you, his breaths becoming more steady and even. he’d never admit how much it means to him that you’d gotten him new clothes, new toiletries, practically a new home.
it’s more than he deserves, but he finds himself wanting to take as much as he can get.
he’s yours, even if he doesn’t know it. and, as the days go by, he wonders if you can be his, too.
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ubeb0nes · 1 month ago
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Getting jealous (AGAIN) as Sevika's girlfriend...
you just can't catch a break, huh? your fault for falling in love with this absolute lady-killer
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a/n: ever since i remembered i have free will and can post all my sevika goblin thoughts i have been cooking entire posts up in like under an hour, somebody please help me LMAO
i had too many ideas for the jealous!reader, so here's another. i picture this as being my pit fighter!reader characterization, so do with that what you will :33
it isn't that you hate absolutely anybody looking at Sevika at all
like, you get it. and a part of you loves that everyone else can see just as clearly as you how absolutely captivating she is.
BUT IT GETS TO A POINT-
After the incident with the girl at the bar, Sevika does her best to make sure that you don't feel neglected in public. She slips, of course she does, but she does try like hell
It typically goes that anybody who approaches her, flat out doesn't acknowledge you. it's a by-product of how she's so non-PDA that it slips the mind of these thirsty women that she's even in a relationship
You, being a practical and results-driven individual, remedy this by being a little bolder in public every now and then
Nowadays, Sevika doesn't usually object. She understands why you're doing it now, and she's getting tired of the would-be homewreckers coming onto her too lol
You'll cup her cheek, give her a firm but quick kiss whenever you bring a drink over to her while she's in a game of cards. Come up beside her at the bar and rest your hand on her hip for a while (she fucking loves this one, she won't tell you though)
From then on, people start to get the message. If anybody's heartbroken over it, they become less inclined to showing it
So, you almost want to believe you're imagining things when you clock someone from across the bar who seems to keep giving you the stink eye
you're not dumb
you can see the way she's gesturing between you and Sevika to her friends, shaking her head in disgust. now that's a new one...
Sevika has her human arm over your shoulder while this is happening, the other holding onto her hand of cards. She looks over at you when you pluck the cigarillo out from her fingers and take a drag of your own in distress. She's deeply amused by this
"Okay, baby?" "Mhm. Peachy." You were not peachy. The hell did you do to deserve that look?
For a second Sevika thinks you're mad at her, frowning and angling her body towards you (she notices Ran trying to sneak a look at her cards as she does, and bucks playfully at them). Her eyes flick up to follow your line of vision, and then she understands
She chuckles under her breath.
"You could take her in a fight, princess."
oh, and don't you know it. You shake away the thought though, not wanting to escalate the situation in your head in the case that it's actually not at all what you think it is, and then you look stupid
You ask Sevika if she wants another whiskey and she declines, so you get up to just get yours. You're minding your business by the bar, trying to not grace that table with any more glances when that bites you in the ass as a shoulder checks yours
of course, it's the girl. I guess it wasn't in your head
You make eye contact with her when she looks over her shoulder at you and scoffs, shaking her head. You don't look away even as the bartender slides your drink into your hand
now, you have some options here. most of them include violence to some degree. you're contemplating them all as you're walking back to Sevika, eyes straight ahead
then you catch a few choice words from her table; something, something, "-can she fight..." you don't hear the rest, but does it really matter?
you stop in your tracks. you glance up at your girlfriend who didn't see what happened earlier but is watching you now, brow raised and mouthing what's wrong?
at this point, i don't think this even counts as jealousy, you're just defending your woman's honor
you give her a shake of your head that says don't worry (and now she's definitely worrying), and turn on your heel and make a beeline for the bitch's table
Sevika is about to get up to back you up- for whatever the situation may be- when she sees your posture as you stand over the girl from earlier.
Ran stops her though, grinning from ear to ear. "Let your girl have this, Sev. I wanna see her beat ass." Sevika scoffs, but tentatively sits back down. She trusts your judgement. Whatever your call is-
oh, you're smashing your glass over the girl's head. Ran gives a loud whoop
"You wanna take her from me? Go ahead, try," you'd said while Ran was talking Sevika down. The smile on your face was near-manic. "See what she does when you put your hands on me."
It's not like this woman was exactly tiny or helpless-looking; most in Zaun strived to be neither. But Sevika hadn't been lying when she said you could take her.
It was not a memo she'd received, though.
You couldn't recall what exactly she'd said, but you do know your mind reached an immediate state of singularity when she said she'd kill you before Sevika could do anything about it.
BET
"Goddammit-" Sevika barks out your name as she shoots up from her chair. Ran is doubled over with laughter
She's deceptively fast for her height, and thank fucking god for it. Her human arm wraps around your waist like a vise, pulling you back with ease
She would've been cutting up right with Ran in any other circumstance, given the way you were stancing on the now-dazed woman, fists clenched and shoulders shrugged up like an angry big cat
"Down, girl," she mutters to you. Her lips quirk up at the way you shift your jaw around, obviously still pissed off and ready to scrap
"I was defending your honor." "Mhm. What would I do without you, huh?"
Sevika's in front of you when the woman scrambles up out of her seat to retaliate. Sevika towers over the both of you, and you're nearly completely hidden behind her now as she glares at the woman
"You don't wanna fight her, much less me. Go ahead and clear off."
Maybe jealousy isn't as accurate of a term for you as territorial. You've got nothing to be jealous of, not with how fiercely devoted Sevika is at every turn
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augustinewrites · 1 year ago
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“hotter than jennifer lawrence, you say?”
nanami can tell that gojo’s having a hard time holding back his laughter as his student nods enthusiastically. this is the last time he’ll ever let them drag him out for a meal again.
“yeah! and oh man…” 
the blond chokes when yuuji gestures vaguely at his chest. this is why he never stays at the school over his lunch hour. 
gojo, wisely, pats the boy on the shoulder as nanami coughs. “alright, that’s enough out of you. even though i agree, you better stop before the vein in nanamin’s forehead bursts.”
the conversation grinds to a halt, gojo visibly stiffening as nanami's gaze narrows dangerously. “did you just say…that you agree?”
before gojo can open his mouth to defend himself, yuuji pipes up once more to add fuel to the fire.
“but it’s true!” the boy insists through a mouthful of food. “i’ve never had a teacher as hot as—”
“as hot as who?” you ask, suddenly standing at the end of their little table.
yuuji shuts up immediately, face turning as pink as his hair and he averts his gaze to the table and mumbles no one under his breath. 
nanami watches gojo beam up at you, then very bravely lets his eyes drift down to your chest for a split second.
but it’s a split second too long, and nanami is about to reach across the table and knock teacher and student’s idiot heads together when you lean down to press a kiss to his cheek.
“come on, love,” you say, smiling sweetly. “you promised you’d take me to that new dessert shop in the city.”
he’d made no such promise, but he gets up to follow you anyway, stripping his thick, autumn coat off and draping it over your shoulders.
with that, he wraps a possessive arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. 
“yuuji,” he begins. “this is my fiancée. she teaches at the school.”
you glance up at him, confused. “yes, we know each other, i’ve taught—”
“we’ll be off,” he cuts in, sending gojo a sharp look before guiding you out of the restaurant. 
he doesn’t let go of your waist until you’ve walked at least a block. it’s only then that he exchanged your waist for your hand.
he’s suddenly very wary of any other pedestrians looking at you, wondering if they’re thinking about what’s meant to be for his eyes and mind only.
“at first you looked like you needed saving in there,” you hum, using your free hand to hold onto his arm. “but…it seemed like they did, with the way you were glaring at them.”
“i wasn’t glaring,” he lies.
“you glare, darling. you may not notice it, but others certainly do. shoko calls it resting bitch face—”
“i do not have a resting bitch face. this is my…thinking face.”
“oh? then what were you thinking about?” you inquire.
“you,” he tells you truthfully. “and how lucky i am to have somebody so beautiful to come home to. someone hotter than jennifer lawrence, even.”
you smile into the kiss he leans down to press to your lips, looping your arms around his neck to pull him closer and murmur…
“you’re going to get very lucky tonight.”
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anaquariusfox · 8 months ago
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I spent the evening looking into this AI shit and made a wee informative post of the information I found and thought all artists would be interested and maybe help yall?
edit: forgot to mention Glaze and Nightshade to alter/disrupt AI from taking your work into their machines. You can use these and post and it will apparently mess up the AI and it wont take your content into it's machine!
edit: ArtStation is not AI free! So make sure to read that when signing up if you do! (this post is also on twt)
[Image descriptions: A series of infographics titled: “Opt Out AI: [Social Media] and what I found.” The title image shows a drawing of a person holding up a stack of papers where the first says, ‘Terms of Service’ and the rest have logos for various social media sites and are falling onto the floor. Long transcriptions follow.
Instagram/Meta (I have to assume Facebook).
Hard for all users to locate the “opt out” options. The option has been known to move locations.
You have to click the opt out link to submit a request to opt out of the AI scraping. *You have to submit screenshots of your work/face/content you posted to the app, is curretnly being used in AI. If you do not have this, they will deny you.
Users are saying after being rejected, are being “meta blocked”
People’s requests are being accepted but they still have doubts that their content won’t be taken anyways.
Twitter/X
As of August 2023, Twitter’s ToS update:
“Twitter has the right to use any content that users post on its platform to train its AI models, and that users grant Twitter a worldwide, non-exclusive, royalty-free license to do so.”
There isn’t much to say. They’re doing the same thing Instagram is doing (to my understanding) and we can’t even opt out.
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They also take your data and content and sell it to AI models.
But you’re in luck!
It is very simply to opt out (Wow. Thank Gods)
Opt out on Desktop: click on your blog > blog settings > scroll til you see visibility options and it’ll be the last option to toggle
Out out of Mobile: click your blog > scroll then click visibility > toggle opt out option
TikTok
I took time skim their ToS and under “How We Use Your Information” and towards the end of the long list: “To train and improve our technology, such as our machine learning models and algorithms.”
Regarding data collected; they will only not sell your data when “where restricted by applicable law”. That is not many countries. You can refuse/disable some cookies by going into settings > ads > turn off targeted ads.
I couldn’t find much in AI besides “our machine learning models” which I think is the same thing.
What to do?
In this age of the internet, it’s scary! But you have options and can pick which are best for you!
Accepting these platforms collection of not only your artwork, but your face! And not only your faces but the faces of those in your photos. Your friends and family. Some of those family members are children! Some of those faces are minors! I shudder to think what darker purposes those faces could be used for.
Opt out where you can! Be mindful and know the content you are posting is at risk of being loaded to AI if unable to opt out.
Fully delete (not archive) your content/accounts with these platforms. I know it takes up to 90 days for instagram to “delete” your information. And even keep it for “legal” purposes like legal prevention.
Use lesser known social media platforms! Some examples are; Signal, Mastodon, Diaspora, et. As well as art platforms: Artfol, Cara, ArtStation, etc.
The last drawing shows the same person as the title saying, ‘I am, by no means, a ToS autistic! So feel free to share any relatable information to these topics via reply or qrt!
I just wanted to share the information I found while searching for my own answers cause I’m sure people have the same questions as me.’ \End description] (thank you @a-captions-blog!)
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thebestsetter · 29 days ago
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Would you fall in love with me again?
• Synopsis: he knew football changed him. That's why he couldn't help but be scared. Would you still love him the same?
• Characters: Kunigami Rensuke (post Wild Card), Sae Itoshi, Michael Kaiser
• TW: Kaiser had an episode, the f word like one time
• A/N: EPIC consumed my mind.
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𝕂𝕦𝕟𝕚𝕘𝕒𝕞𝕚 ℝ𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕦𝕜𝕖
He was different.
That was the first thing you noticed when Kunigami Rensuke, your boyfriend, knocked at your door on a random wednesday after disappearing for 7 months to go to some "Blue Lock" project.
"Is it really you?" You asked, voice dripping with doubt and love at the same time. Your knuckles were white from how strong your hold on the door was "Or am I dreaming once again?"
"I am not the man you feel in love with" he said, his deep voice wavering, not even giving you a proper 'Hello, how are you?' after so long "I am not your calm and gentle boyfriend. I've changed. For good"
You stayed silent, though it was not by choice. You were just so, so overwhelmed by emotions that it seemed like you had forgotten how to speak. Your tongue felt heavy inside your mouth, and your eyes were wide, unmoving, despite the tears threatning to spill from them, almost as if if you blinked, Kunigami, your house and everything else around you would disappear, and this would be nothing more than one of the countless dreams you had with him.
"Kuni" you started, getting closer. Your hand perfectly cupped his cheeks, as if it was meant to be there, and he instantly leaned in, almost like it was second nature. You caressed the dark circles under his eyes, and you were sure you had similar ones from the nights spent locked in your room, crying and missing him "What kind of things did you do?"
"I gave up on my hero ideology" he lifted one of his hands and put it right above yours, still on his cheeks "As I destroyed friends and teammates like they were objects I could use" he closed his eyes, basking in your warmth. Gently, he kissed the inner part of your wrist and sighed in relief, almost as if he was still convincing himself that you were, indeed, very real "And I am not the love you once knew"
The tears that were in your eyes finally fell. You could feel his hands trembling - if you were feeling scared, he was terrified. Terrified that you would reject him. Terrified to be cast away from your life. Terrified of who he became.
"Well, if that's true" you swallowed hard, blinking as more tears kept coming "Could you do me a favour? Just a moment of labour, I swear. Could you please pick up that flower over there?" You pointed to a Baby's breath, neatly arranged at the floor, beside the door "I think it's whitering. Could you carry it over? Take it far away from here, please"
Rensuke eyes suddenly shot opened, his own tears starting to appear
"How could you say this?" His voice got patheticay loud, and he despised himself for crying in front of you, but it couldn't be helped. What you asked him was ridiculous "I helped you plant that baby's breath on our first date. It's a simbol of everlasting love - our everlasting love." His voice grew louder, more desperate, like he was talking to someone kilometers away from him "I can't do that, you know it. The only way to move it is to cut it from it's roots."
You couldn't help but smile. You grabbed his free hand with your own one, looking directly at his eyes. It was like the world around you both had stopped, and even the birds' singing and cars noises ceased. You could only hear Kunigami's frantic breath in contrast to your calm one.
"Well, only my boyfriend knew when that flower was planted" you smiled, getting closer to him. You rested your forehead in his, closing your eyes. He followed your actions, sighing "So I guess that makes him you"
You pointed to his chest, right where his heart should be
"Don't tell me you're not the same person. It's still you, right here. And you know I've been waiting for you"
He opened his eyes, staring right at yours as both of you cried, ugly sobs coming from your mouths.
He was still your boyfriend, after all. Your lovely, amazing boyfriend who you loved so much it hurt.
And when he finally kissed you after months, trying to convey a love so raw and genuine through his actions, everything seemed to fall back into place again.
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𝕊𝕒𝕖 𝕀𝕥𝕠𝕤𝕙𝕚
5 years.
That's how long you waited for Sae Itoshi to come back from Spain. To come back to Japan. To come back to you.
5 years of rejecting suitors. 5 years of dreaming of him every night. 5 years of suffering, yearning for your boyfriend who was all the way across the globe.
That's why, when he finally comes home looking even worse than you, you were not surprised.
"Are my eyes decieving me?" You smiled lightly, your nose already feeling stuffed - you knew you were about to cry
He muttered your name dreamily, staring at you intensely.
He's not sure how, but he managed to find the strength to smile your way. God, how long has it been since the last time he smiled? And yet, just by being next to you, he felt his lips stretching up.
Something was strange, though. You knew him. You knew Sae Itoshi, the boy who dreamed big and who you fell in love with. You knew him.
"Your eyes look tired" you frowned, getting closer and closer until your your knees were practically touching"Your smile's torn. You're different, Sae"
His smile fell, and you almost regretted what you had said. He grabbed your hands and caressed them with his thumbs, avoiding your gaze - something uncharacteristic of him
"Would you fall in love with me again?" He asked, sighing. His eyes finally met your gaze, and you could see the sadness in them - almost as if he was a young Atlas, carrying the weight of the whole world on his shoulders. You wish you could help somehow, ease his burden, but it was clear you couldn't "If you knew all I've done. The things I can not change."
His eyes sparkled, and Sae Itoshi never cried, but you swore you saw them getting a bit glossy. You didn't know what he was talking about, but he clearly had a fight with someone - probably a teammate or something.
"And I know you've been waiting for me" Sae continued, not giving you a chance to answer "But I am not the love you knew before. I am not the man you adored. I'm no longer him" he let go of your hands, staring right at you like he could read your soul - even though you knew if he could, he wouldn't understand a single thing. You weren't understanding your own thoughts. How could he?
"So tell me, Amor" he said, his spanish pronunciation way better than you remembered it to be "Would you fall in love with me again?"
A gentle silence settled between you, which was strange. You've dreamed for so long about what you'd say to him once you saw him again, and yet when you saw him you were completely at a loss of words.
Sae took your silence as an answer. He began to walk away, head hung low and hands on his pockets.
He knew this would happen. He knew it. He was not that Sae Itoshi. He was not even human. He was a machine, made for playing soccer. He knew you wouldn't accept him.
He knew it. Yet it didn't hurt any less when he grabbed his travel bag and started distancing himself from you
"I..." he heard you saying, and even though he tried not to, he stopped. He needed to hear your answer. His brain and heart needed closure.
He could practically hear the gears on your head turning, trying to find the right words to convey your feelings
"I will fall in love with you over and over again" you answered, voice steady "Doesn't matter how long it's been, Sae, I will always love you. I've waited for you. And I will always wait for you. You're mine, Sae. And I'm yours. That's something no amount of time or distance is ever going to change"
A gentle silence settled between you both once again, as you stared at eachother's eyes. The 10 meters that separated you both suddenly felt like 10 kilometers.
The snow felt like quicksand while Sae made his way to you, first taking hesitant steps, and then almost running to get to you.
And when he hugged you and you fit perfectly into the crook of his shoulder, you knew you'd be alright.
You were not going to give up on each other. No matter how hard things were.
You both then kissed each other, sealing that silent promise.
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𝕄𝕚𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕖𝕝 𝕂𝕒𝕚𝕤𝕖𝕣
Kaiser has always been a hard person to deal with, but he's been way worse after the Neo Egoist League.
He was screaming at the smallest inconveniences, spent days without even sparing you a glance, trained till he passed out from exhaustion and was making even more snarky remarks, if it was even possible. He was not fine, and you knew that. You knew him.
Your suspicions were confirmed during one of his episodes.
Kaiser usually had some episodes while remembering his childhood trauma, and he always confided in you to help him overcome them.
You were proud of this arrangement, actually: trust has always been what held your relationship together.
That's why you couldn't make sense as to why he was hiding from you during one of the worsts - if not the worst - episodes you've ever seen him had.
"Micha?" You asked, finding him curled up in the corner of your shared closet "Are you okay?"
"Don't come near me" He whispered. His eyes were red from crying, and you could swear you saw a purple bruise on his neck. Why didn't he call you?
"Okay" your voice was gentle, as if you were soothing a kid "Okay. I won't come closer. But I'm right here. Just focus on my breath, my love. Can you follow it for me, please?" You began breathing louder, hoping he'd follow your lead
Sadly, he began shaking his head, breathing growing even more frantic
"I-I can't" he muttered, shaking like a leaf
"Of course you can" you whispered "C'mon, breath in" you breathed in and held for a while "breath out" you repeated. Finally, he followed your commands
Luckily, after a while, his breath began to come back to normal, and you pondered just what was going through his head to make him act like that.
"Can I come closer now?" You asked, voice still gentle. When he nodded, you wasted no time in sitting right next to him, still not touching his body
Silence was loud between you too, and you wondered if he was even going to speak something about it
"W..." he began, voice breaking. He then took a deep breath, preparing himself for what he was about to say "Would you fall in love with me again... if I lost all I had?" He asked. He gave you no time to think begore he continued "Would you have fallen in love with me if I was just a little kid with a fucked up, drunk dad? If I had no money, name or fame?" He looked at you, staring at your eyes like he would forget them the moment he looked elsewhere "Would you?"
Once again, silence enveloped the room.
"Forget it" he muttered, starting to get up "It was a stupid question"
He was almost standing when you put your hands on his knee, earning a confused "huh?" from him.
Just like he did earlier, you took a deep breath
"Michael, I don't care how, where, or when. You're mine. I love you for you. I don't care for your name, your value or your football abilities. I don't want to see Michael Kaiser, the emperor. I want to see Michael Kaiser, my boyfriend." You also got up, slowly reaching for his hands, like you were asking for permission. "I love you, Kaiser"
He tried really hard not to cry again. You could see it. The way he contorted his face before letting the tears fall freely.
One after the other, he began crying hard. Sobbing and hiccuping and all. He would never cry in front of anyone. Others would never see this version of him. But you would.
In a swift moment, you hugged him, feeling his arms hold you stronger as his cries got louder, uglier.
Strangely, he wasn't embarrassed. He was relieved.
Relieved he could be vulnerable in front of you. Relieved he could be himself.
He couldn't hide anything from you, could he? Well, he hoped he could at least hide that ring in his socks drawer.
But not for much longer, though. After what happened, he'll wife you up was soon as possible.
But for now, only the feeling of your arms grounding him was enough.
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Masterlist
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snow-snowball · 1 month ago
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𓆩❤︎𓆪 Nice ass, bro! 𓆩❤︎𓆪
You slapped his ass and complimented him.
characters: Sylus; Xavier; Zayne; Rafayel.
a/n: English is not my first language, so I apologise for any mistakes.
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Sylus:
• Honestly, he expected something like this from you.
• So when you smacked him on his nice backside, Sylus merely raised an eyebrow.
• “Are you serious? Are you that bored, kitten?”
• “You have such a lovely butt, darling! I couldn’t just walk past it!”
• He simply grabbed your wrist and pulled you closer.
• “And what if I do this?” His hand began to slide from your waist down to your rear. “Hmm, I won’t stop, you know that, right?” Sylus lowered his head onto your shoulder. You felt a slight sting from his bite, followed by his slippery tongue licking the spot he had just bitten.
• “Sylus—I—I was just joking!”
• “Joking, you say?” The man straightened up and put on a pensive look, then suddenly his ruby eyes sparkled with mischief as he lifted you by your thighs. “Well, it seems the joke has spiraled out of control.” In a swift motion, he threw you over his shoulder and playfully smacked your ass, striding toward your bedroom. “Kieran, Luke, I’ll be busy for a couple of hours, so put your work on hold.” Sylus waved his free hand dismissively at his subordinates, who chuckled at the scene, before disappearing with you.
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Xavier:
• Xavier lay on the couch with his eyes closed.
• You knew perfectly well that he wasn’t actually asleep; he was just pretending. That’s why you tiptoed closer to him.
• The Hunter had heard you long ago but continued to feign sleep. He was curious about what you were planning to do.
• Noticing his eyelashes fluttering slightly, you raised your fist to your mouth, stifling an impending laugh. Once you reached him, you were greeted with a stunning view of his backside, snugly wrapped in light blue jeans. You let out a whistle, momentarily forgetting your purpose. Gathering your composure, you playfully smacked his firm rear, the sound of your playful slap echoing through the room.
• Xavier propped himself up and looked at you with a puzzled expression. “Why did you do that?”
• “Great butt, darling!” you exclaimed, raising your finger triumphantly with a bright smile.
• The hunter sat there for a while, resting his chin on his thumb, deep in thought. “Alright then, I guess I’ll...” He suddenly pulled you close, settling you on his lap as his hands went straight to your hips, squeezing them and making you gasp. “Your ass is way better than mine. Mind if I chill like this for a bit?” He leaned his head to the side and gave you an innocent puppy-dog look—classic forbidden move.
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Zayne:
• The man sat in the armchair, engrossed in a medical book. He was too absorbed to notice when you came home.
• You felt a twinge of worry that your husband hadn’t greeted you. But upon finding him reading in the living room, you crossed your arms and gave him a slightly displeased look. He still didn’t pay you any mind. With a sigh, you approached him, placing your hand on the book to close it and then letting it fall to your side.
• Slightly startled, Zane glanced at you and immediately stood up to embrace you. “I’m so sorry, darling; I lost track of time.”
• “It’s fine; I guess the book is more important than your wife!”
• “Don’t say that…” He looked at you seriously, taking your warm hands in his cool ones. “You will always come first to me.” The doctor held you gently, as if afraid to chase you away. He caressed your back with his large hands, burying his nose in your hair and kissing the top of your head.
• You couldn’t stay mad at him for long and wrapped your arms around him in return. You stood that way for a few minutes until your hands slid down, squeezing your husband’s toned behind and playfully tapping his firm thighs. “Wow! Dr. Zane, you’ve a nice ass!”
• The man let out a weary sigh; this wasn’t the first time you had done this. “As you wish, my dear.”
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Rafayel:
• He was painting in his studio as usual, inspiration pouring out of him like a raging river. The masks were bold, and the colors were alive and vibrant.
• All would be well, except Rafayel kept getting paint smeared all over his backside.
• You quietly slipped into his room and froze at the doorway. His gorgeous ass was wrapped in tight pants, with paint smudges dotting the surface, and oh my, it bounced so enticingly with his movements.
• You spotted a small tube of paint and, seizing the opportunity, squeezed some onto your palm. Sneaking up behind him, you delivered a playful smack to his ass, causing him to jump in surprise. Raphael inadvertently jolted his hand, ruining what could have been a masterpiece.
• “What the hell?! You! You! Are you out of your mind?!”
• “I gotta say, this painting is just killer.” You pointed at his backside playfully. “The imprint of my hand fits perfectly into it!”
• The artist turned his head and noticed the marks your hands had left on his pants. Frowning, he turned away from you, arms crossed over his chest.
• “Did I hurt your feelings?” You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around him from behind. Your paint-splattered hands slipped beneath his shirt. “What a bummer, though! I still have some touches left to add—Ouch!”
• He suddenly spun around, pushing you back against his desk and looming over you. “Looks like you’ve taken it too far, Miss Artist.” He dipped his fingers into bright red paint, smirking as he locked eyes with you. “Now it’s my turn to create.”
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© 2024 do reblog, but don’t copy or publish my work on other platforms, or translate (without my permission) into other languages. Any coincidences are coincidental! The dividers belong to me! If you want use them, just tag me: @alexvolleyball
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lemonlover1110 · 2 months ago
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Toji Fushiguro
Summary: Megumi hates nap time, a fuss that Toji isn't willing to deal with.
Warnings: Fluff
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi - Bluesky
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“It’s nap time, Megumi.” Toji tells his four-year-old, a child who listens to no one– No one but you, of course. Whatever his mommy says, goes. But little Megumi doesn’t hold the same sentiment with his father.
“I’m not sleepy.” Megumi crosses his arms, becoming pouty at the mere suggestion of a nap. He’s too old for napping. He’s not little anymore, he’s four. Why doesn’t his dad understand?
“Oh, you’re sleeping.” Toji replies, unwilling to listen to argue with a four-year-old about nap time of all things. The child is just like him, if he doesn’t get enough sleep, he’s grumpy for the rest of the day. 
“Come here, shadow.” Megumi ignores him, calling for the dog that’s nearby.
“Leave the stupid hedgehog alone.” Toji responds, picking up the child from the ground and carrying him to the bedroom. Toji can only pray that one day Megumi will wake up and obey his father, but sadly, today is not that day.
“He’s a dog! He goes woof!” Megumi yells, kicking his feet in the air as his father carries him. When Toji finally puts him down, it’s on the bed which fills the child’s little heart with rage. He’s not sleepy, why is he being forced to sleep?
“Your mom is coming home soon, you don’t want her to find you misbehaving, do you?” Toji asks, and Megumi refuses to listen to whatever Toji has to say. Yeah, the old man brought you up and all that but Megumi simply isn’t sleepy. 
Megumi refuses to look at his father, and Toji begins to look for one of those stupid books that you read to get the child to sleep. Is that the key? Toji doubts it, but he’ll try anything to get Megumi to fall asleep. Watching after the child is an annoyance at times, Toji wants to be able to watch TV without worrying about Megumi putting a dog toy in his mouth. 
“Here. Let’s read– Goodnight Moon.” Toji reads the title, laying down beside Megumi. 
“It’s not even out yet.” Megumi argues, making Toji roll his eyes. What a sassy mouth. Toji opens the book, a yawn escaping his lips before he reads the first line.
“In the great green room–”
“This is boring!” Megumi cuts him off, which earns a hard cold glare from the man. A look that seems to solve all of Toji’s problems. Megumi becomes intimidated for a second, muttering, “Sorry.”
“There was a telephone,” Toji continues, another yawn escaping his lips. He feels a little head fall on his chest, noting that Megumi seems to have changed his mind. Is it interest in the book or the tiny detail that Megumi now feels scared? 
Toji’s free hand goes to the top of Megumi’s head, caressing the soft hair of the child. Regardless of how difficult the child is, Toji would die and kill for Megumi. There’s no one he loves more than the little rascal. 
“Oh, man.” Toji yawns again. How does this even work? He might fall asleep before Megumi at this pace– But then his eyes fall on the child, whose eyes are shutting on their own. At least it’s working, even if Toji is falling asleep as well.
“Keep…” Megumi murmurs, drifting off. He attempts to tell his father to keep reading, but he doesn’t have enough energy to finish. This is the same child who was set on fighting his father.
It doesn’t take long for Toji to follow Megumi’s suit, lightly snoring beside his son in a matter of seconds. 
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joemama-2 · 2 months ago
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velvet lies
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pairing: gojo x fem reader synopsis: crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol, classism, mom! reader, lying, abuse, MAJOR angst, slow burn, exes to lovers, (mentions of) cheating, scandals, death, blood, drugs, drama, family drama, miscommunication, blackmail, unhealthy coping mechanisms, depression, manipulation wc: 5155 a/n: hi everyone! i'm so excited for this piece of work as I have a lot of exciting ideas planned in store! this will probably have slow updates, so please please please be patient with me. thank you all for reading! i'm aiming for at least 15ish chapters, maybe more or less, depends how much i write in one chapter in the future. series masterlist < next chapter
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“Cash or card?”
“Card.”
The sound of light dinging follows, the transaction completed. “Here you go, Miss. Have a good day.”
“Thank you, you too.” The woman takes the small bag from your outstretched hands, giving one last smile before exiting. The bell at the top of the door rings, signifying her exit. You sigh and look at the clock, one more hour. It’s not that long. But you’ve been here since opening and the shoes you’re wearing are beginning to hurt your feet. Maybe you should’ve broken them in more.
It’s a quaint little cafe. Most of the customers are teenagers, college students, or overworked office workers who need caffeine to get them through the day. Other than that, you have no qualms. Of course, it does get a little annoying having to tell the newer, much younger co-workers that they can’t do this or that. 
A mundane routine of making coffees, packing orders, and ringing them up. Just one more hour. 
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As soon as the clock strikes 5:00, you’re clocking out and saying goodbye. The school is an exact walk of ten minutes, six if you’re fast. Then another ten back to the apartment. And finally, another fifteen to the convenience store. 
Hustle and bustle is all you’ve ever known. Sure, you like it most of the time. But you just wish you could get a break. It’s always go, go, go, but never take a rest and time to yourself for a moment. But when you see that adorable smile plaster on those chubby cheeks you never shy away from pinching, it’s all worth it. “Mama!” 
“Baby!” you crouch down and open your arms. The young boy wastes no time in throwing his body into yours, face nuzzled into your chest and arms around your neck. “How was school? Fun?” you ask, hand rubbing his back up and down.
He nods. “Mhm! Mr. Ito says I got the most gold stars out of everyone in class.” 
Your smile grows wistful, aweing. “Wow, such a good boy, aren’t you?”
You carry Koji into your arms, starting the walk back to your very humble apartment. He chatters innocently the entire trek, with you occasionally adding on or asking questions. His soft white hair pokes at your cheek, to which you straighten down with one free hand. It’s days like these where you wish you could just lounge at home with him, basking in his sweet innocence. But while most people are ending for the day, you’re barely starting your second half.
You feel the self-deprecating thoughts fill your mind like a virus while stationed near the light, waiting for the pedestal symbol to indicate. Your grip tightens around your son slightly, as if anchoring yourself to reality and reminding yourself you’re doing it all for him, and to keep going for him. 
It’s hard, yes. But so is parenting. 
The symbol comes on and you walk, seeing the building of your complex in the distance. Forcing any lingering negativity away, you clear your throat. “So, what did you learn today, baby?”
Koji looks up at you. “We learned how to add! I helped Mina.”
“That’s very nice of you.”
He giggles bashfully, leaning into the kiss you place on his cheek. Eyebrows raising as a sudden memory hits him. “Oh! And Mr. Ito said Dad Appreciation Day is coming up soon. There’s gonna be food and music.”
Your smile wavers, footsteps momentarily pausing before continuing. “Oh, really?” you ask, inhaling a wavy breath of air. “That sounds like fun.”
“Mhm.” Koji nods, then tilts his head curiously at you. “But everyone is bringing their daddies. I wanna bring Papa too.” 
And you really try not to make your guilty grimace visible. “I know, sweetie. I know.”
“Can Papa come?” he frowns. 
No, he can’t. But you’re not about to tell your five-year-old that the reason his father can’t make an appearance is because he doesn’t even know he has a son. It’s been a difficult conversation for you. You’re not sure when or how to have these sorts of hard ones with children. So you’ve been dancing around the subject. Saying his dad is away on vacation, or fighting intergalactic dragons, or some other excuse you’ve been forced to use. He believes you, most of the time. But that doesn’t stop his curiosity and growing impatience. 
The last thing you want him to think is that he has no father in the first place.
He does. You’ve shown him pictures and videos occasionally. Of, and of course, he’s an exact carbon copy of the man. From his bright blue eyes, albino hair, and all the way down to his stubborn personality. You were a little annoyed when your only child took quite literally everything from his father, only leaving him with a couple of things from you–your nose and helpful nature. 
“We’ll see. Papa is busy, remember?” you gently reply, walking through the parking lot of your complex to the lobby.
Koji’s frown deepens and so do the metaphorical scars on your heart. “But Papa’s always busy! I wanna see Papa.”
“I know you do, baby. You will soon, okay?”
“Do you promise?”
You hesitate but eventually nod with a forced smile. “Mama promises.”
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After leaving Koji with the babysitter, you give him a quick kiss and recite the list with the babysitter before rushing off to your second job. A convenience store. 
Not the most savory place, mainly because you get all sorts of crazy and odd customers, but also because you are close. You hate closing. But you need the second disposable income and this is the only place that fits with your schedule. It’s also a little more leaned back than the cafe, when there are no customers, you spend your time browsing the web for jobs.
You’ve probably sent in over 500 applications over the years, with not even half of those places reaching out. Even then, you’re not guaranteed a job. The job market is horrible nowadays and you’re living through it.
Whatever, you think to yourself as you clock in. One day at a time.
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It’s around eleven at night when you're slugging back into your apartment, lights dim, and silence enveloping the place. “Thank you, Sana.” You mutter, exhausted but still sparing the 20-year-old a smile. You hand her a small envelope. “For today and last Saturday. How was he?”
Sana thanks you kindly and grabs her stuff. “All good, no tantrums today.”
“That’s good.” you walk into the kitchen, grabbing some food you’ve meal prepped. “Get home safe, okay?”
“Thank you, Y/N. Sleep well.”
When she leaves, you give yourself a moment to slump over the kitchen island, sighing in both relief and lingering tiredness. The silence feels nice, like an old and familiar friend welcoming you and praising you after yet another day of the same routine. You’ve always loved routines, but you can’t help but crave at least some sort of spontaneity. Putting the tupperware of chicken and rice into the microwave for a minute, its light humming makes you zone out. The conversation from before with your son ringing in your mind like a very annoying bell.
Soon, images of his father, your ex, flood your mind. An old fluttery sensation residing in the pit of your stomach, your body suddenly feeling all too warm for your liking. Your fists clench to stop their light trembling, shaking your head free of him. 
Not now.
You stop the microwave at one second, before it makes that obnoxious beeping and wakes your son. There are two chairs at the small dining table, you sit at one of them and eat your now warm meal. You’ve started meal prepping after one too many missed meals and a few incidents where that light-headedness and blurred vision caused you to faint. Luckily, you were alone when that happened. Unluckily, you were alone when that happened. Nursing a few bruises to your forehead after making contact was not a fun time. 
You take time to eat, in no particular rush. Although you know you should be getting ready for bed soon for another early day tomorrow, your body doesn’t move. Either consciously or subconsciously. The end of the day is when you find yourself attempting to unwind and detach from the day’s events. But, the stress of unpaid bills, debts, and worry for the future always find time to crawl back.
It’s exhausting, extremely so. Sure, you’re an adult and this is normal. But don’t you deserve at least a little bit of time when you don’t have to worry about anything? It feels like every waking second your mind is working overtime, your body in a constant state of motion. It’s worn you down completely over the years. But you have a son who needs you, so you suppose you shouldn’t be feeling pity for yourself.
This is what parenting is all about, isn’t it?
Making sacrifice after sacrifice for your child. However, when you feel yourself sinking deeper and deeper, slowly losing more of yourself, what if there’s nothing left to sacrifice in the first place? The eviction bill from this morning taunts you as it lays upright in front of you in the middle of the table.
It’s then do you think, no, you do have one thing left. 
Koji.
If Koji’s gone, then you really have nothing left. There’s no reason to live if that happens. And with the path you’re going down, that’s feeling more and more like a dreaded possibility. 
I wanna see Papa.
Koji’s words play repeatedly. For a second, you feel yourself resonating with your son. Only for a second. You reach for your phone and go to Google, typing in a name that still haunts you. You’re barely three letters in before his name appears and you’re clicking.
A smiling image fills your screen along with other general information.
For some unknown reason, your breath hitches. You feel like he’s almost staring at you, smiling at your pathetic predicament. Grip tightening around your phone, swallowing down an unexpecting lump, tears fall from your eyes and onto the phone screen.
Why you’re crying, you don’t know. It could be many things, but you won’t address that right now.
Gojo Satoru.
The father of your child, your ex of 4 years. 
You rarely look him up, almost never. Only in desperate times when you feel yourself drowning and needing some sort of comfort. It’s stupid. You haven’t been together or even seen him in five years. Not since you ended things with him. Not since you felt his hands roam your skin, whispering sweet words.
He didn’t even protest or question why. Almost like he knew your breakup was inevitable. You’re not sure if that hurts more.
You’re twenty-eight now. But while your life still feels the same from when you met Satoru at the ripe age of nineteen, you’ve reached a plateau. But him? He’s thriving, of course. Making a name for himself, as an heir to one of the biggest conglomerates in Japan, the Gojo Group. 
You’re happy for him. But where is that happiness for yourself?
You feel a little, no, a lot jealous. You always were of Satoru. Being given everything he wants without much thought, never worrying about money, and a stable home life. You’re extremely jealous of that bastard.
But right now, jealousy isn’t in the picture. It’s your son’s father. And if you want to keep your son, give him everything he wants, that starts with one person.
Letting him meet his father. 
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“Honey, do you like your pancakes?” you ask your son who’s currently scarfing down his plate of breakfast. Adorned in an adorable shirt uniform shirt and some little black trousers. He hums back excitedly with a muffled “yes, mama”. With a chuckle, you dry up the rest of the dishes, then your hands. Dropping him off at school is the first thing on your agenda, as per usual. 
The walk to his school is a familiar one, wanting to get your son knowledgeable with the route so when the day comes that he needs to walk him himself, he’d know his way back. You pass by other kids and parents, some children yelling bye as they step onto the school grounds, with others giving their children long-lasting hugs.
You walk until you reach his door, his teacher, Mr. Ito, standing outside and greeting his students as they enter. When he makes eye contact with Koji, he smiles a bit wider. “Good morning, Koji.”
“Good morning!” your son happily replies, waving up at his teacher. With one final hug and kiss shared, he’s running in to already begin talking to his friends. Standing back up, you see Mr. Ito already looking at you. And you especially don’t miss the way his eyes not so subtly rake up and down your figure. You clear your throat. “Good morning.”
He meets your eyes again. “Good morning, Y/N-san. How are you today?”
“Good, and you?” 
“Very good.” 
The way his tone is almost causes you to visibly shiver, brows furrowing slightly in discomfort. One of the things you dislike the most about Koji’s school, his teacher. Although he hasn’t outwardly done or said anything inappropriate, you’re a smart woman. “That’s good. Well…have a nice day.” Doing anything you can to quickly end this dreaded conversation, but still wanting to maintain a level of politeness. 
You’re about to turn on your heel and leave when he calls out. “Ah, Y/N-san?”
Damn it, what now? “Yes?” you turn and look at him.
The distance between you reduces as he steps a little closer. “I have some concerns regarding Koji’s behavior in class. Would you be available to set up a conference anytime this week?”
“Behavior? Has he been misbehaving?” You did not expect that.
“Well, it’s complicated. He has some trouble listening as talks when he shouldn’t. I’d like to nip this in the bud before it grows out of control.” Mr. Ito cooly replies, smile looking more like a hidden smirk. “So, will you be available?”
You hesitate, not really. With your two jobs, you barely have time for yourself, let alone your son’s teacher. But if it’s regarding a behavior problem, then do you have any choice? “I think I’ll be free this Saturday. Weekdays are very hectic for more.”
He nods. “That’s fine, we can grab coffee.” When your head tilts slightly, he adds on with a chuckle. “And discuss Koji over coffee. On me.”
Right, of course. You know what this is, but just think about your son. That’s the priority. “Okay, 8 am at Latte Lounge sound good?”
“Sounds excellent, I’ll see you then. Have a wonderful day.”
With a simple nod back, you turn around and finally leave. Practically feeling the way his eyes shamelessly check out your behind. A frown inevitably grows on your face, why wouldn’t it? As long as this man doesn’t try anything…more, you should be fine. And if he does, 1) you’ll be in public, and 2) you’ll tell him straight up.
Whatever. 
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“Pizza or teriyaki?”
“Pizza!”
“Of course.” you chuckle and put the frozen pizza in your cart, your son clutched onto your right hand after announcing he can walk on his own because he’s a big boy. The grocery store isn’t crowded during this time of day. Rightfully so. It’s 7 pm on a Tuesday, most people already cooking dinner by now. You always grocery shop at this time, your son appreciates it too. There’s been a few times when you both got quickly and very overwhelmed with the bustling nature of the grocery store on a weekend morning. Currently, you’re moving through the snack section now, picking up a few of your and Koji’s favorites. 
“Mama, can I pick a cereal?” Koji asks and points to the cereal aisle next over. When you nod, he happily runs off. You still however make sure to look over at him frequently when picking up and putting down a few snacks. 
You reach up to grab a pack of Hello Panda, the pink and chocolate ones, before a hand beats you to it. “Oh, I’m sorry.” As soon as you look over, you and the stranger meet eyes. 
Immediately, there’s a silence that falls over you two. Eyes each blown wide in shock. 
Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me.
Just your luck. As soon as the stranger speaks, a strange nostalgia fills you. “Y-Y/N?”
It almost sounds weird coming from his lips. Your friend–well, ex?--friend gets out. He still looks the same, just more…manly. 
“...Suguru, I–I’m… surprised to see you.” you awkwardly laugh. Reunions were never easy.
“Oh my god,” Suguru breaths out, shaking his head with a faint smile. “Well, shit. I mean, how are you? You..you look good.” His eyes move down your figure in an appreciative way.
“Thank you, I’m good. How are you? Your hair is longer.” you motion to his sea of black, healthy locks. “ ‘M a little jealous.”
He laughs with you, the sound reminding you of old times. “Yeah, been working on it. And I’m good.”
Another pause is permitted, as if you two aren’t very sure what to say to one another. Well, in all honesty, it has been five years. “Well,” he clears his throat and puts his hands in his pockets. “What are you up to?”
“Oh, you know,” you glance down at your cart. “Just some shopping.”
He also looks down, head tilting slightly. “Ah, right.” With a nod, he juts his head toward the direction of the kid’s toothpaste. “Just for one?” He laughs, joking of course. 
You mentally curse yourself, putting a pack of cookies on top of the toothpaste to hide its already revealed existence. “Uh, ye—”
“Mama! I want this one!” Koji runs up to you, showcasing his desired cereal.
Well…..shit. 
As if things weren’t already complicated.
With Suguru’s eyes even wider than when they were staring at you, his mouth is practically on the floor when the young boy looks at him. His sharp eyes dart across his features and…..
“I-is this—”
“Koji.” you cut him off, gulping and shifting the child closer to your leg. “My son.”
Suguru spends another good minute staring at the boy, who innocently stares back. When his eyes slowly move from the blue ones to yours, there are a million and more questions swirling in his brain. He’s not even sure which one to ask first. But he goes with the obvious. “...Is….is he…..”
You nod uncomfortably. 
He lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, hand running through his hair. “Holy shit, I mean….holy heck.”
Your lips purse, putting Koji’s cereal in your cart before picking him up in your arms. “Koji, this is Suguru. Say hi.”
“Hi.” Koji childishly smiles at the older man. “Are you Mama’s friend?”
Suguru spares you a glance. “Uhm…yeah. Yeah, kid, I am. Nice to meet you.” He then shifts weirdly, not sure if he should shake the boy’s hand, which seems too formal. He decides to gently ruffle his hair. “So…how old is he?”
The question is directed towards you, but Koji answers. “I’m five!” He holds up five small fingers. 
“Five?” Suguru’s brows furrow at you. It’s surprising how quickly you recognize that scolding look of his. “Have you—”
“No.” you once again cut him off, shifting Koji to your hip. “I haven’t.”
“Why?”
That’s a good question. One you know the answer to…slightly. But with Koji looking between you two curiously, you can’t exactly say why. At least not here. “I….I just…haven’t.”
Silence. 
You can feel Suguru regarding you with many emotions, but the main one is confusion. He bites his lip as he thinks over how to react properly to this situation. From the looks of it, Koji is just as clueless as him, maybe even more. “Jesus Christ, I don’t even know what to say right now.” Heavily sighing, he looks back at Koji, then you, then Koji, then finally you. “You’re going to…right? I mean, he deserves to know, Y/N. You’ve just–I mean, come on.”
There’s not much of a response to that, much to his expectation. You always used to do this when you were guilty. But Suguru has always been the more… empathetic of the two. “Look, I–I know you’re probably going through your own things, but…”
You look at him again, remorseful. His lips purse and with a heavy sigh, he takes a card out from his pocket and hands it to you. “Here’s my business card, it has my number. We lost your old one, so.”
Your hand reaches out to take it, examining the words, Rising Futures Foundation. "Building futures, one child at a time.” You meet his eyes again, forcing words out. “Okay…thanks.” 
“No need,” he waves you off, taking down the two Hello Panda boxes and putting them in your cart. “I’m sorry, I have things to do right now, but please…give me a call, okay?”
With slight hesitation, you nod. He mirrors you before focusing on the child again, a smile forming. “See you, buddy.” Suguru pats his shoulder lightly before walking away and away from your vision.
Your mind is being overrun, body feeling stiff and stuck, unsure of how to process what the fuck just happened. No doubt he’s about to tell his best friend. Then said best friend will find you and Koji. Then maybe he’ll try taking you to court for hiding his son for five years. You’ll obviously lose because you have no lawyer and Satoru has the best. Your son, your one and only, your sole happiness will be taken away from you and you’ll be left alone to rot in angui–
“Mama?” Koji’s small hand is put to your cheek, stirring you from your mild comatose state. “Are you okay? You have tears in your eyes.”
“What?” Raising your hand to your eye and sure enough, you are letting loose some tears. “No, no, Mama’s okay. I’m not crying, just…just tired.”
But with growing age, so is his perception. “Are you sure? Did your friend make you cry? I don’t like him then.”
Oh, how sweet. You smile, head tilting. “No, baby. Don’t say that, okay? Mama’s fine. I promise. See? I’m smiling. Wanna smile with me?”
Like clockwork, he follows your emotions and smiles, giggling. “Yeah, I wanna smile with you. I like smiling with you, Mama.”
“And I like it when you smile with me too.”
Maybe, this isn’t too bad. You were just thinking that you want Koji to finally meet his dad. So, this is good. This ensures a meeting. But, it also ensures a deep-rooted, most likely bad confrontation that will take place between you two. Why wouldn’t it? At least you’ll be able to prepare yourself now, mentally. 
You can imagine the harsh words he might say. The raised voices and brutal questions about how you can do this to him and so on. In hindsight, you deserve it. What kind of woman does do this to a man? Children are supposed to be bundles of joy, not hidden secrets. Of course, there’s the lingering worries of what legal action Satoru, or his family, might try to take.
That would quite literally fuck you over so hard.
But…maybe Satoru will go easy on you because of your past. You really don’t know. This situation is messy as fuck and it’s mostly—a lot—because of you. You have no one to blame but yourself. Hopefully, he’ll take pity on you, even though you hate when others pity you. It’s different when it comes to him, the father of your son. It always has been and it probably always will be. 
Honestly, you’re a little relieved that you ran into the best friend of the man than the man himself. Now that would’ve been bad. 
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The sounds of skin against skin fill the room, mixed with heavy grunts and airy moans. The headboard repeatedly hitting the wall plays like a drum, the lights dim and the view of the dark city landscape is exposed. Satoru’s gripping the woman’s hips, leaving crescent-shaped indents in her fair skin. Her constant mewls sound heavenly in his ears. “God, you feel so….good…”
“S-satoru!” 
“Yeah, say my name. Just like that, baby.”
He presses a firm hand down on the small of her back to keep her arch in place, feeling his release invade her warm walls, filling her with a lovely warmth. She clenches around him, moaning out once more as she finishes with him.
He collapses against her back, his heavy breaths tingling her ear. “Baby, that was…so good…” she croaks out. 
Satoru’s mind is fuzzy, vision blurring slightly. He hums in response and leans back up to pull out, discarding the heavy condom with his load into the trashcan beside the bed. “Stay.” With a small pat to her hip, he’s forcing his limbs out of bed and to the connecting bathroom to grab a warm rag. Aftercare. Although most of the time, he really can’t be bothered to do something like this. Cleaning her up feels like a chore sometimes,  but the last time he voiced that opinion, it led to a huge argument between the two. 
In just a few minutes, they’re both cleaned and changed. Wearing his sweats low on his hips while she indulges in just one of his oversized shirts. Another small pet peeve he has. And another thing he must keep his mouth shut about. “What time do you have to go into the office tomorrow?” Himari asks, snuggled up against his chest, dainty fingers tracing circles along the firm muscles. 
“Same time as always,” he sighs, grabbing the TV remote and putting a random show on. “You know that.”
“I know, but…can’t you just call off tomorrow? Please? I wanna spend the day with you.”
When he looks back down at her, she’s frowning. A small tug is pulled at his heart and before he knows it, he’s pulling her closer and placing a gentle kiss to her hair. “Can’t, baby. Maybe this weekend?”
Satoru can feel her ready to protest again, but the sound of the front door downstairs being opened and closed interrupts the moment. Followed by the familiar voice of his friend. “Satoru! You here?”
Satoru’s brows furrow slightly. A small grunt falls from his lips as he maneuvers Himari off his chest, standing up and walking out. He looks down the staircase and sees Suguru staring up at him. “What do you want? I’m sorta busy.” Himari comes out and hugs his waist, proof of his so-called “busyness”. 
Suguru holds back an eye roll when the woman gives him a look, focusing on his best friend. “Need to talk to you. Privately.” 
“For what?”
“It’s important.”
“So just say it now.”
“Damn it, Satoru. Just come down and kick your friend out.”
“Girlfriend.” Himari corrects with a scowl.
“Yeah, sure.” Suguru waves her off and motions for Satoru to come down as he walks into the man’s kitchen.
Sighing with his eyes closed, he turns to Himari. “Sorry, babe. My driver’ll give you a ride back.”
Once again, she frowns. “But I—”
“Please.” 
His bottom lip pokes out in a small, but convincing pout. “I’ll see you later, mkay?” Satoru reaches his thumb out and brushes it along her cheekbone, which he knows she’s weak for. Confliction and hesitation dance in her eyes but she concedes. Gathering her purse and shows, she gives Satoru a dramatic kiss on the lips before leaving. 
“Finally,” Suguru huffs from the kitchen, swirling a glass of whiskey. “I thought you guys broke up.”
“It was a break.” Satoru grumbles, walking over to stand across from his friend, snatching the glass out his hand and sipping. “Anyway, what’s so important you come unannounced for and demand my sweet company to leave?”
“That woman is not sweet.” 
Satoru smiles and shrugs, “She tastes it.” 
A groan is heard from Suguru, eyes rolling before he shakes his head. “Look, you should sit down.”
“That good, huh?” he plops down in the nearby chair and leans back, arm resting against the back of it. He nods. “Alright, shoot, baby.”
Suguru takes in a deep breath and steels himself for the more than likely hard conversation. A part of him feels like he’s intruding, like it’s not his place to reveal such a thing to him. But at the end of the day, it’s his best friend. And you, well…he’s not exactly sure if you’re still friends or not. “What I tell you might sound crazy, but I need you to promise you’ll stay calm until I’m done speaking, got it?”
Satoru’s brows raise in mild astonishment, seeing Suguru get all serious like this is quite amusing. “Okay, I promise.” He shrugs again. “Can’t be that bad, right? No one’s hurt.”
Not yet, Suguru says to himself. He claps his hands together, mulling over how exactly to break the news. “So, I came across an old friend today.”
“Oh yeah? She cute?” Satoru swirls the alcohol in his glass.
Suguru holds back another eye roll. “Yeah, she is.”
“Nice, man.” the white-haired man chuckles, head tilting. “So what, did she make a move on you or something? Now that’s crazy.”
“I’ll have you know, I’m actually quite favorable amongst women.”
“Are you now?”
“Listen, you ass. No talking, just listening.” When he doesn’t get a response back, he takes it as a sign to continue. “Anyway, I saw an old friend. And…she had a kid with her.” Satoru nods slowly, already getting lost on his this information is even remotely crazy, or relevant to him. But he stays shut, deciding not to face another one of Suguru’s mini-lectures. One more deep breath is let out from Suguru and he gets to the point. “It was Y/N, she has a kid.”
A small beat of silence follows as Suguru gauges his best friend’s reaction. He doesn’t look like he’s flipping out, but he doesn’t show much emotion either. Confusing Suguru, he waits for the inevitable lash out.
“Who?” Satoru ends up asking.
His best friend knits his brows, trying to see if the other man is serious or not. When his expression doesn’t change, he replies. “Y/N…” he speaks slowly. “...your ex?”
Still, no emotion. But his grip on the glass does tighten.  “And she has a kid.” Suguru reiterates, almost in nervousness now. 
“Satoru….the kid looks exactly like you.”
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a/n: thank you guys for reading!!! Sorry if this chapter was a little short, i’ll try to make the next ones a little more longer. But writing super huge chapters isn’t my forte. Anyway, stay tuned for chapter 2 :)
1K notes · View notes
fastandcarlos · 4 months ago
Text
Streamer Baby : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen
summary: when max leaves you and your daughter to stream for the night, only one of you is happy to let max go and play for a while
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Max’s eyes lit up as soon as he walked into your apartment, heavy footsteps thudding through. He dropped to his knees as your daughter ran through to meet him, leaping up straight into his arms. His grip was tight as her arms wrapped around his neck, kicking her legs excitably at the sight of her dad returning home. After a couple of moments you followed through, joining the duo as Max pressed a kiss against the top of your head. Max’s free arm wrapped around you, inviting you into their hug as the three of you walked back into the apartment, all entangled in with one another.  
“I can’t stay for long,” Max told you, placing your daughter back down. “Don’t forget I’ve got that charity stream tonight.” 
“Don’t worry, I didn’t forget,” you smiled, heading back into the kitchen to carry on preparing dinner for the three of you. 
“Where are you going daddy?” Your daughter asked, her hand still resting on Max’s leg to make sure that he couldn’t run away from her. 
“I’ve just got a bit of work to do sweetheart,” he smiled, brushing his hand over the top of her head. “I promise that I won’t be too long.” 
“You’re stuck with mummy for a little while longer,” you joked, trying your best to keep her smiling. 
“I’d rather be stuck with mummy then do what I have to do tonight,” Max grinned, bending down and lifting your daughter up, a loud squeal escaping from her. 
“You can try and make me feel better, but I know she’s a daddy’s girl,” you assured Max, appreciating the efforts that he went to. He couldn’t help it, he felt guilty sometimes that your daughter clung to him more than you, but you didn’t mind, being a spectator of their relationship was pretty special too. 
“I’ll make sure that I’m done so I can come and say goodnight,” Max informed you both, placing your daughter down in one of the dining chairs just to the side of where you were. He walked around and grabbed himself a drink and a snack from the fridge before heading for the door. “If you need anything, you know where I am,” he smiled, pressing a kiss against the top of your daughter’s head, moving around to kiss the side of yours too before leaving the two of you to it. 
A sigh came from Max as he closed the door behind himself, hearing the groans of your daughter cry out straight away. He felt helpless as you called out her name in the hope that she would stop complaining, but it wasn’t to be. Whilst George headed upstairs, you found a couple of her toys lying around the kitchen floor, picking them up and placing them in front of her, only for her to chuck them to one side. 
“I want to play with daddy,” she cried out, folding her arms in front of her chest, a habit of Max’s she’d definitely picked up. 
“I want to spend time with daddy too, but he’s busy,” you weakly smiled, picking the toys back up off the floor. 
“Why’s he busy?” 
“Because he’s working,” you explained, opening up the kitchen door again to place the toys back in their box. “Why don’t you go and watch the television sweetheart then mummy can get on with sorting dinner?” 
“Can I watch Bluey?” She excitedly asked, offering the first hint of a smile she’d shown since Max left the room. 
“You can watch whatever you want,” you replied, keen to keep that smile on her face for as long as you possibly could. “I’m sure once daddy is done with work he’d love to come and watch Bluey with you too.” 
“Daddy’s coming now?” She quizzed, not quite understanding what you meant. 
“Soon,” you spoke, only for her smile to fade again. You quickly turned the television on, hurrying to find any episode that you could to put on and distract your daughter. Once you had one, you left her to it, heading back into the kitchen so that you could finish preparing dinner for the three of you without any distractions around. 
Above where you were, Max was all set up with his headphones on, talking to some of his fellow drivers who were taking part in the charity stream. He was lost in his own little bubble until a stream of light came through the door leaving him unable to see what was happening on the screen, the light hitting the exact spot where his character was. 
His eyes glanced to the door to see what was going on, only for a little figure to peer around the door frame, a cheeky smile etched on her face. “Love, what are you doing?” Max chuckled as he met your daughter’s eyes. 
“I missed you,” she grinned, inviting herself into the room, her chaotic feet charging through the room to where he was. 
“I’ve only been gone ten minutes,” Max laughed, bending down to pick her up anyway, sitting her down in his lap. Her arms immediately went around his chest, sticking to him tightly just in case anyone tried to take her away. He didn’t have the heart to tell her to move as she wriggled around to make herself comfortable, her hair flicking in front of the screen over and over again. The boys were baffled on the end of the line as Max’s character was killed, he’d gone from top of the leaderboard to bottom of the pack in no time at all, all thanks to the troublemaker cuddled up to him. 
Usually Max hated coming last, especially when it came to impressing on stream, but for once Max could make an allowance. His weakness was absolutely your daughter, every single person that knew Max could tell you that too, which was why it didn’t take long for the other boys to figure out why Max had suddenly plummeted to the bottom of the rankings. 
“Have you got a little guest?” Charles laughed through his headset as Max’s character was shot again. 
“I might have a team mate,” Max sniggered in response, “not that she’s exactly doing a good job of helping me right now.” 
“Don’t use your child to cover the fact you’re rubbish at this game,” Lando teased, celebrating being the one to defeat Max. 
“I’m being honest,” Max chuckled, glancing down at your daughter again. “You just wait until you have kids one day, you won’t be able to get anything done anymore without a little figure following you around constantly.” 
“Why don’t you just tell her to go away?” Lando jokingly quizzed, hearing several groans from many of the drivers through his headphones. 
“Shut up Lando,” Max grinned, “do you hear how stupid you sound sometimes?” 
As the game restarted, Max tried his best to focus again without your daughter getting in the way. That was soon interrupted again though when you peered through the door, smiling softly when you saw your daughter cuddled up to Max, relieved to see that she was safe in the hold of her father. 
“She just couldn’t stay away,” Max laughed, knowing exactly what you were looking at. 
“I had no idea where she’d gone,” you grinned with a shake of your head. “One minute she was there, the next she was gone.” 
“I knew she wasn’t going to leave me alone for long,” Max smiled, taking his headphones off for a moment. “I didn’t have the heart to tell her to go back downstairs again.” 
“It’s alright, she’s not getting in the way though, is she?” You asked him. 
“I’ve lost every round.” 
Oh,” you smirked, unable to hold back your laughter. “It’s for charity so I don’t think you’re allowed to get mad about that.” 
“I also don’t think I have the heart to get mad at this one either,” he chuckled, nodding down at your daughter. 
“No way, she’s a daddy’s girl after all.” 
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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yuuchama · 2 months ago
Text
Sometime during the VDC training camp, when everyone on team Night Raven is sleeping over at Ramshackle Dorm:
Ramshackle Dorm has no shortage of spare rooms, but their condition is another story. You've managed to get enough of them decently clean. They're not as nice as your room, which has had far more time invested in it and is well lived in, but your groupmates should be able to spend a few days at the dorm without issue and are more than free to tidy up rooms as they please.
Yet on one of the first nights, you hear the door of your room creak open. It's dark and you can't see the intruder, though you know it's not one of the ghosts. The approaching footsteps aren't as heavy as Grim's, even after he's cleared out the entire fridge in one sitting. You're also pretty confident Grim is fast asleep beside you.
"Hello?" You groggily lift your head and call out to the intruder. If it's anything malicious, you hope the ensuing scuffle will cause enough noise to wake everyone else up.
A weight pushes the edge of your mattress down and there's a gentle touch at your shoulder. "Prefect, do you mind if I spend the rest of the night here?"
"Jamil?"
You almost don't recognize him in the dark with his hair down. You feel around for a bedside light. Grim groans in his sleep when it clicks on and turns over, shielding his eyes with tiny arms.
Jamil looks exhausted. "Please, I'd really appreciate if you could let me sleep here tonight."
"Yeah, sure. Of course." Maybe it's the sleep addling your brain or your trust in Jamil. You see no reason to turn down his request and didn't question why he was coming to you instead of Kalim. You nudge Grim over to make room for one more on the bed.
The vice housewarden does his best to fit in the cramped sleeping conditions, assuring "I'll pay you back for this. Thank you."
He's turned towards the wall, back touching your side so that he doesn't fall. You wait to make sure he's fully secure in bed before turning off the light. In the calm that follows, you notice he's almost imperceptibly shaking. Sure, the dorm is cold, but not that cold. Especially with three in one bed.
"Jamil, are you okay?" The longer you spend awake, the more concerning this whole situation feels.
"I'm fine. Goodnight, Prefect." Jamil already has his eyes shut and seems adamant about not discussing things further.
"Okay... Goodnight."
You lay down and silence settles over the room once more. It's really warm between your two friends. Sleep is quick to catch up to you, you find yourself nodding off within minutes of your head touching the pillow.
Before you fully drift off, Jamil turns to face you. His hair drapes over the side of the bed and he places a hand on your pillow, lightly grazing your cheek.
"Thanks again," he whispers. "I feel a lot better with you here. Your room doesn't have bugs on the wall."
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