#god i hope he still has all his teeth 😔😔😔😔 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 9 months ago

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io . i could kiss u

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 waking up to this was the greatest treat i could’ve asked for???? io you’re always sooo so sweet and thoughtful and i feel like we’re always on the same wavelenght when it comes to this lil guy ….. all the different aspects of his godhood and existence and what that means for him and the connections he makes in life!!

i just!! felt so giddy reading your annotations and getting to experience your thoughts!!!! T—T gna comment on most of them obv but i NEED you to know that every single comment from you means the world to me!!! i was smiling like an idiot reading this n sipping on my coffee …. feeling like this One siken quote rn:

^^^^ this is me @ io constantly every single day btw <333 mwah mwah MWAH i am kissing your forehead softly . anyway let’s get into it !!!

this was so soft omg — hyacinths are my favorite flower n { n tulips n chrysanthemums } i could literally see myself in a tiny quaint kitchen with the delicate scents in my nose as i pass — n the espresso? bliss is correct. mundane pleasure i could feel. all comfy inside.

ANOTHER HYACINTH LOVER LET’S GOOO 🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂 those flowers are all so iocoded!!!!! when i think of you i immediately think of lavender for some reason…. any kinda purple or dark blue flower really…… but tulips and chrysanthemums too!!!! so perfect for you hehe 🌷🌷🌷 <- here r some lovely tulips for a lovely girl :33

your descriptions of surroundings and the outside world is genuinely unmatched. this is poetry. 😭🙏🏾 what we live for! (…) literally murmured, "pretty" out loud lol. (…) PRETTY PRETTY PROSE. ari i want to be woven into the seam of all your metaphors and imagery fr.

YOU’RE SOOOO KIND I MELTED INTO A PUDDLE… i hope you realize how big of a compliment this is coming from you 😭😭 your poetry inspires me sm all the time…… i am gently weaving you into my metaphors as requested so pls let me live inside of yours too <33333

i really love this bc yes this man is so god he is man. using reader's almost naivety to explore the perception of his godhood vs the truth of his divine humanity is gold btw.

AAAAA I’M SO GLAD 😭😭😭🥺🥺 you get it!!!! i think satoru and his not-quite godhood is the most interesting thing about him….. more on this later probably? but my own take on satoru is that he’s a normal human who had godhood forced onto him. just a normal boy forced to be holy. but ofc he never becomes an actual god…. he’s a silly little human man who likes sweets and laughter and has no choice but to bear the burden of being the closest thing this world has to a god .

he makes me insane btw 😔😔😔

i really loved that the world wakes up the moment he opens his eyes bc to me { being that i love him so bad ukno } he is the world.

SO REALLLLLL YOU GET IT !!! that was how i intended the line too hehe :33 when he wakes up the world has no choice but to follow!!! or maybe it’s the other way around….. hm hmmm

your opening lines are genuinely beautiful, poetic bangers. what a way to unfurl a new scene!

🥺🥺 io i’m really just picking out every single comment atp but. they’re all so sweet!! how could i not!!!! this is soooo reassuring to hear too….. i never quite know how to start or end scenes so i just kinda wing it 😭😭 so happy you enjoy the opening lines!!! <333

if my hot coworker is satoru n i have the chance to stare longingly at him, what am i gonna do when i could stare at a god man with angel wings for lashes? lol satoru take care of me i’m hurt 😔👉🏾��🏾 [ ”scratch that — gojo is downright cackling.” ] i’ll still box that man n win.

PJDJDJDHDUHFUFUF IOOOOOO THE SHIFT HERE MADE ME LAUGH SO HARD YOU HAVE NO IDEA 😭😭😭😭 I SUPPORT YOU FULLY BOX THAT MAN FOR ALL HE’S WORTH!!! show him who’s boss!!!!!!! pdhdkdjd…. you’re so real and so cute satoru BETTER treat you right!!

ANOTHER BANGER DESCRIPTIVE PARAGRAPH I LOVE HOW YOU DESCRIBE HIS LAUGH AS WOLFISH N EMPHASIZE THE SHARPNESS IN HIS TEETH AS HE KINDA SMILES ARIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII ARI PLS GIVE ME A BREAK FROM COPY AMD PASTING LMAO

LMAOOO I’M SORRY 😭😭😭 i am so so happy that you liked that part though!!!! ngl i was giggling and kicking my feet writing it …… shamefully…… i’m just too in love w the idea of his genuine laughter 😔 i really do think it’s so wolfish and deep and giddy……. sighhhh i fear he’s too endearing io. we need to put him down.

i think this might be a contender for my favorite bars of the fic fr. you know i love a good celestial reference and he is such a star boy. cosmic boy. angel boy!!! just etherealllllll!

EEEEEEE i was hoping you’d like that line!!!!!! when i saw that you rbd this i instantly thought of it 😭 celestial references are sooo io to me. he really is an angel boy… a star boy………

ari the way i got so shy i got butterflies he’s so charming n frustrating n i like him a lot.

REALLLLLLLLLLLL i was also blushing writing this 😭😭 ISN’T HE SO SICKENINGLY CHARMING… sighhhh it’s so hard to be in love with him bc he’ll annoy you SO much but then he smiles at you all softly and bares his heart a bit n it’s like. oh. I FEEL SO ACCOMPLISHED THAT IT GAVE YOU BUTTERFLIES THOOO <3333

OPE WAIT WE HAVE ANOTHER CONTENDER THIS FUCKING ATE ARI????????? oh my god now i understand what you mean when you say you wish you could eat certain poetry bc i want to swallow this whole and make it part of me. 😭😭😭😭😭

YOU’RE TOO KINDDDD i’m gonna be repeating this a bunch but 😔 it’s true!!!! i am just a little guy……… so honoured that anything i make can resonate w you <3333 gojo and icarus make sense to me……. as a pair…….. i’m not sure why though. but i’m super happy that you liked it wahhh :’3 !!!!

the way this hit so fucking hard after all the references to him being this untouchable god. it was the epiphany for both of them lowkey. satoru asking himself that, too, i fear.

YES YES YESSSS YOU GET IT …. io my dearest my comrade my beloved !!!!! you understand 🫂🫂 i was hoping for that line to be kind of a slap 2 the face… but like. a gentle one!!! because i think it’s so easy to look at satoru and his strenght and his fame and turn him into a god but it’s so cruel :((( and i think reader felt a bit ashamed at their moment of epiphany…. something about forcing a man to be a god is just . sooo twisted and interesting to me… AND YOU’RE SO RIGHTTT satoru is for sure asking himself the same question!!! is he a god? is he a human? does it matter when people have already decided that for him?

ari no no no no no m'gonna dissolve into a puddle of tears i feel so bad for him. the quiet tears my fucking heart i just want to hold him so fucking close 😭

☹️☹️☹️ one final somber ”real”……….. seeing him break down like that would break me down too!!! and the quiet tears aaaa you noticed…….. i’m holding him AND you close we could all use a hug cmere 🫂🫂🫂🫂

IOOOO i hope you can feel my love and gratitude rn but if not!!!!! pls just know that i love you. you’re such a sweet kind person and these annotations made me so happy to read 🥺🥺 tysm for reading this and taking the time to share your thoughts!!! andddd for just being so sweet and fun to talk 2 :3

you are somebody that i want to keep ; satoru gojo

synopsis; you aren't sure what you have with satoru gojo, but you know that it’s good.

word count; 6.7k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, colleagues to friends to something unlabelled, you love each other though!!, fluff, hurt/comfort, very very soft, reader falls first but gojo falls harder, both of u are afraid of intimacy lol, a lil angsty if u squint, satoru gojo cherishing u for ~7k words straight <3

a/n; basically just a collection of moments between you and gojo throughout the years <33 (a significant amount of time has passed between each part!!) hes an emotionally repressed loser but i love him and he is smitten w u.

in the soft luminescence of daybreak, your kitchen looks something like a dream.

tainted with a hazy sunshine, simmering with warm colours and pleasant scents, it almost seems to sparkle in the peripheral of your vision. brimming with that feeling of home, a home you’ve broken your bones building, desperate to shape it into something safe.

and you think you’ve done a pretty good job. all these comforting sensations bleeding into each other; hyacinths blooming by the windowsill, espresso-flavored steam wafting up to the roof, soft meows stemming from the cats by your feet. bliss.

indulging in a peace yet to shattered by the strain of the working world, you rub the sleep from beneath your weary eyes, blinking and yawning like a drowsy child.

beyond the translucent glass of your windows, glimmering with the light of a sun soon to rise, the world is painted pink and indigo — save for that one hint of gold, a streak of honey slathered across the surface of the sky. fluffy clouds drift through the chilly air, melting in the wake of a new day, and you think they look a bit like tufts of cotton candy. soft enough to sink your teeth into, if only the glass wasn’t in the way. keeping the cold out.

it’s a new day. a pleasant morning, sitting comfortably on the brink of dawn, before the city has a chance to rouse from its slumber. a kind of solitude you so rarely get to bask in.

a false solitude, really. because, for once, there’s another human being in your home — one you don’t know nearly as well as you’d like, for him to be fast asleep on your couch, cheek smushed against the leather. snoring softly.

satoru gojo.

like this, he looks very… human. vulnerable. hair just slightly tousled, from tossing and turning on your not-so-comfortable couch, blindfold only covering one of his eyes and close to slipping off entirely. his expression has melted into one of something vaguely resembling relaxation, as close to unguarded as you assume he can physically get.

even in his sleep, he looks a little stiff. not entirely at peace. like a stray cat sleeping under the hood of a car.

(you’re curious. fascinated, maybe, by the loneliness that clings to the strongest person in the universe. by the paradoxical innocence of his grin.)

honestly, everything from last night is kind of a blur. you remember accompanying the strongest sorcerer on a mission, one long enough to leave you completely and utterly spent, fatigue nestled deep into your bones. remember gojo getting a sudden migraine, so earth-shattering that you thought he was going to keel over and throw up in the middle of the street.

then you remember bringing him back home with you. very hesitantly, only after he begrudgingly accepted the fact that he didn’t have much of a choice. because you were fucking exhausted, and so was he, and your apartment happened to be conveniently close. remember him practically passing out on your couch, still somehow managing to crack a bad joke you can’t recall, while you went to collapse into the comfort of your bed.

and now you’re here. dyed in half-transparent sunbeams, caffeine bubbling in your veins, gazing at your sleeping coworker from your spot by the kitchen table. waiting for the world to open its weary eyes.

it’s still early. some part of you expects him to sleep a while longer, but you can’t say you’re particularly surprised when gojo begins to stir.

a splotch of sunshine splatters across your living room window, staining the floorboards, falling over the contours of his pretty face. in the light, he looks positively holy; white lashes, pale skin, plump lips. like a goddess.

(when he opens his eyes, it’s even worse. a single iris cracked open, pooling with unbridled brilliance. eyes so blue they seem to cut through the stillness of the air.)

— and the world wakes up.

a little groan slips from his lips, barely audible. with groggy movements, he brings a hand up to his face, obscuring the grating light of the sun flitting in. you think you can almost see the gears of his mind turn, as he takes notice of his surroundings, remembering what transpired just hours before.

faster than you thought, he regains some semblance of composure. huffing under his breath, as he forces himself into a sitting position.

it feels a little wrong, to see the closest thing this world has to a god act so human. be so human. morning-fatigued, just like you, wearing droopy eyelids and a soft, sleepy pout. a little disheveled. groggy with lost dreams.

when his gaze meets yours, you can’t control the breath that hitches pitifully in the back of your throat. a meek skip of your heartbeat, like you just saw something you shouldn’t have. oops.

gojo cracks a grin.

“.. watchin’ me sleep?” he calls out, cheeky. paired with a drowsy yawn. composed, unbothered, but there’s something almost performative about it, something you’re sure you’d miss if he wasn’t still in the process of collecting himself.

“good morning,” is all you offer him. ignoring his teasing remark. he doesn’t push it, to your surprise. “sleep well?”

a hum. absentminded, jovial. one of his large hands goes to adjust his blindfold, the other to fluff up his hair. kicking off the blanket you just barely had the energy to throw over him last night. your fluffiest one, warm enough to protect him from the chill gnawing at the windows. hopefully.

“like a log,” he quips, stretching idly, muscles straining under his baggy uniform. they must be sore, after that mission. or maybe he’s above such things.

choosing not to comment on his obvious lie, you put your lips against the ceramic of your cup. sipping from the bitter brew, a tinge of hazelnut on your tongue. letting him gather his bearings without you scrutinizing him. a little favor, one liar to another.

“thanks for letting me crash,” he grins, lazy. toothy. stumbling to his feet with a low groan, gaze flitting around the room — looking for the exit. “i’ll get outta your hair,” he mutters, and you raise a brow.

“not staying for breakfast?”

gojo stills. your question rings out, bouncing off the walls of the kitchen, into the living room.

his smile twitches, ever so slightly, in what you think must be surprise. then it’s back to normal; like putting on a mask, not allowing a sliver of weakness to slip through the cracks. he exhales a raspy chuckle, a sound that flows through the air and crawls down your spine.

”generous, aren’t you?” he hums, voice rich with amusement. dappling sunlight licks at the white locks of his hair.

you shrug. “i wouldn’t mind the company.”

the words climb up the walls of your throat, a little reckless, eager to catch a glimpse of the miracle before you. satoru gojo, framed by the simplicity of your home — somewhat hard to let go of. sunkissed skin, restless hands. a little out of tune. shifting from foot to foot, eager to get away.

(a little like a frightened fawn, you amuse yourself by thinking. he’s really more like the fox who scared it.)

you think he must be bit uncomfortable. forced to spend the night in a coworker’s apartment, one he doesn't even know that well, one he probably doesn’t have any intention of getting to know. still trying to politely excuse himself. persistent, stubborn.

maybe he didn’t expect this. maybe he was convinced he could sneak away, before you had a chance to wake up. maybe he thought you’d be all too eager to let him leave, and never speak of this again. maybe he’s not used to being wanted.

“ha… i’m flattered, believe me, but —“

“what do you usually eat?” you ask. cutting him off, gently, tapping your fingertips against the edge of the table. “for breakfast, i mean. i’ll whip something up.”

a chuckle slips from his lips. you can’t put your finger on it, but something about it bothers you. “really, there’s —“

“if you’re worried about inconveniencing me, don’t be.” you pause, unsure of what to say. but the words end up spilling out of your throat, oddly honest. ”it’s been a while since i had the chance to make breakfast for someone else.”

it’s strange, really, how intent you are on seeing this through. how much effort you’re putting into making him stay. you barely even know him. actually, you don’t know him at all — all you know is that his smile makes you happy and his strength makes you envious. that you aren’t afraid of him, even though you probably should be.

something about him just feels safe.

“i’m pretty good at making pancakes,” you hum, a small smile playing at your lips. polite, jovial. pale light flits in through the window and slips into its curve. ”do you want some? before we go to work.”

(something in his fingers twitch, when you say that tiny word; pancakes. a little tell. you just barely catch it, before it sputters out. before he reels it back in.)

a moment passes. slow, drawn out, a rubber band bound to snap.

gojo stands there, a very subtle contemplation etched into his features. behind him, your cats begin to scratch at the couch, but you don’t scold them. just waiting for something to happen. beyond the glass of your windows, the sun unfurls in the sky, stretching its arms to envelop the world.

he grins, suddenly. soft light reflecting off the white of his teeth. cocky, composed. not quite performative, a little more natural.

“well, if you insist.”

he strolls over to your side, just a tiny bit sluggish, lazy steps and comically long limbs. he must still be tired. but he takes a seat, right across from you, plopping down on the chair with an effortless air of confidence. lighthearted, leaning his elbows on the table, crossing his legs under it. comfortable. settling into his role.

you’re pleasantly surprised.

“how would you like them?” you ask, wondering if maybe a bit too much excitement ended up spilling out with the question. if it did, gojo doesn’t comment on it. ”your pancakes.”

“with chocolate chips, please!” he shoots you a sweet smile. “and whipped cream on top.”

so demanding. for some reason, it makes the corners of your lips quirk up. kinda like a bratty younger brother.

“got it.”

the smell of dark chocolate hangs heavy in the air as you get to work, shuffling around the open space. all while gojo waits, patiently, tapping his foot under the table and staring out the window. leaning his jaw on the heel of his palm. listening to the humming of nightingales on the branches of the apple tree down on the ground, and the buzz of your old radio.

the kitchen fills with motion, sounds, smells. life. splotches of sunlight, crinkled cartons of orange juice. the clinking of plates. two tired adults, seated at the same table, indulging in a fleeting peace and the promise of something new. something almost concrete.

a small, precious moment. enough to make your fascination shift into something you know must be fondness. or close to it.

gojo grins at you, mouth full of pancakes, eagerly telling you about something the kids did last week. wolfing them down, chocolate smeared over his bottom lip. you laugh, and suddenly the world feels a little safer than it should. a little more intact.

you wonder what it means. where it’s going to lead. this feeling of something wonderful beginning, something you couldn’t stop if you wanted to.

a budding connection.

the city lays blanketed beneath a layer of thick snow. blurry pale dots dancing in the wind, obscuring the sky, frost engulfing every building in a bone chilling hug.

with a slight shiver, you dig your hands into the comfort of your pockets, seeking the fleeting warmth you find. admiring the frozen landscape before you, the hustle and bustle of people going about their day. the saffron light of the lamp posts, the glittering snow by your feet, the skeletal apricot trees and their bare branches. this monochrome city you find yourself in.

gojo exhales. strolling cheerily down the street, in tandem with you, a frosty breath to your left that scatters and melts into the open air. it smells minty.

today, he’s wearing black shades — like he usually is when you meet outside of work. it’s kind of nice. when you angle your face a certain way, you can almost see the blue pooling in his eyes, the white of his eyelashes.

he’s beautiful. he always has been. but like this, you think his beauty is simply unfair, highlighted by the winter wonderland you find yourselves in. mesmerizing, the red flush of his cheeks, how he hums along to some jolly tune playing from a little corner store further down the street. all bundled up, in a stylish overcoat and a nice scarf, untouched by the snowflakes fluttering about.

protected by his infinity, always. the silly god you call a friend.

he looks content, despite the cold that keeps nipping at your bare skin, smiling widely. blabbing on about the movie you’re about to watch, how he saw it back in high school but never thought it’d get a remake. how his friend thought it sucked but that friend always had bad taste so his opinion is irrelevant. how he has faith that you’ll like it.

(cute.)

distracted by the pretty man so close by, close enough to touch, you don’t look ahead. maybe just a little bit entranced. which would be fine, if you didn’t happen to be walking on the right side of the street —

crashing straight into a lamp post.

”owch!”

it’s sudden. and it’s a harsh collision, enough to leave your nose stinging, an ache that makes you whine. cursing under your breath as you take a couple steps back, hands reaching for the part of your face that took the brunt of the hit.

and gosh, is this embarrassing. you dance on the edge of death for a living, and here you are — whining over walking into a fucking lamp post. because you were too enamored by the beauty of your own coworker to pay attention to your surroundings.

a coworker who is currently looking at you, silently. having failed to warn you in time, stuck in his own memories, caught up in his in-depth, spoiler-filled review of a movie he’s been waiting to watch all week.

for a moment, all he does is blink. long eyelashes fluttering, like a dove flapping its wings.

then he starts laughing.

scratch that — gojo is downright cackling, thoroughly amused by your clumsy mishap, like he just saw the funniest thing in the world. laughter ringing out into the cold air, white breaths to compliment the red of your burning ears.

asshole.

with a harsh furrow of your brows, you attempt to look angry; but before long, your lips are curling up. infected by his joy. a soft punch to his shoulder is all you manage, biting back a little puff of laughter. you’re embarrassed.

(so embarrassed you don’t even notice how he puts his infinity down.)

”don’t laugh, you piece of shit!” you hiss, grinning even still, flushing and trying to ignore the curious glances you get from passersby. ”it really hurt!”

but gojo doesn’t stop. doesn’t even attempt to. you think he just grew even more amused, if anything, practically bending over from how hard he’s laughing — clutching his stomach.

”sorry, sorry — ’m just…” he tries to speak, taking deep breaths in between bursts of giggles. ”how the hell — how’d you —”

he stops trying. laughing, again.

and it’s a genuine laugh. a little wolfish, spilling out from his pretty parted lips, showing off his sharp teeth. from the very bottom of his gut, clear and bright, deep and infectious. melodic. shades close to slipping off the bridge of his nose, eyes tearing up behind them. trying to collect himself, muffled giggles turning to soft vapour in the cold air. dimples visible on his rosy cheeks.

and suddenly you can't think, can't speak, can only look at him and wonder how a human can be so very beautiful. how it’s metaphysically possible. like a crushed cluster of stars was given human form, a body of celestial light.

he looks so young, like this. a millenia younger, no weight on those broad shoulders, no immovable wall to separate you both. he looks like one of the guys you used to hang out with in middle school, running through corridors and play fighting and holding back shared laughter in the library. before the bite of the world left a mark in your skin.

he looks like himself. like someone pulled the mask off, and all that’s left is the human. none of the godhood he was saddled with at birth.

while you’re busy staring, gojo finally finds his composure again. wiping at his glassy eyes, a chuckle slipping out here and there. distracted by the breathtaking sight, you begin to forget the sting of your collision — until you feel something warm trickle down your chilled skin.

searching for it with the pads of your fingers, you feel a trail of wetness beneath your nose. and when you bring them down, to get a look, all you see is red.

”ah.”

gojo moves closer. maybe just a little alarmed, by the blood dripping from your nose, staining the white of the snow beneath your feet. a chilling contrast, one you’re frighteningly used to. it’s almost comforting. blood on your skin, that sting of pain clogging up your nose, enough for you to get lost in. colours melting together, memories rising to the surface —

when suddenly, something touches your cheek.

one large hand goes to keep your jaw in place, gentle. smooth leather, sneaking under your chin, lifting your face up ever so slightly. warmth trickles from his fingertips through the fabric, and you can smell a hint of his perfume. strawberries and vanilla.

gojo looks at you fondly. wiping the blood from your nose, smudging his expensive gloves. from this angle, you can see his eyes, a blue shimmer in an evening painted white and gray — the sole flicker of colour in this monochrome city. they’re crinkled at the edges.

he looks awfully amused.

(you stay still, not breathing, like any slight motion could have him pulling away.)

”careful,” he croons. so low you barely hear it, almost a purr. the word has a soft underbelly, something you don’t need to dissect to feel.

a sentiment that seems to simmer in the air around you, drifting past the little corner store, a dog tied to a lamp post, your reddened cheeks. past the blue of his eyes, a peripheral that stretches to cover the city before you. words too heavy to speak aloud.

stay safe for me, silly.

then he’s letting go. sudden, the bite of the air replacing his hand. it lingers on your skin, like a memory, like the ghost of a memory. but it’s there. strawberries and vanilla, leather and warmth. something kind. warm.

and it stays there, even as gojo takes a step forward, no longer facing you. walking confidently, the wind bending around his tall stature. long legs and large steps, leaving an imprint in the snow for you to follow.

he turns his head, and grins. hair tousled by the breeze, white locks glittering with snowflakes. ”you coming? it’s starting soon.”

a moment passes.

”or do you need me to call shoko?”

you puff out a breathy laugh, at that, stumbling forward. reaching up to wipe more of the blood sticking to your skin. sniffling, but smiling, teeth peeking out between your lips.

”yeah, yeah,” a roll of your eyes. ”’m right behind you.”

gojo’s eyes crinkle, disappearing behind his shades when he straightens his back and raises his head. moving forward, while you follow; his back turned to you, snowy hair melting into the white all around you. like something out of a painting.

with a pep in step, you catch up to him. eager to hear more of his voice, his memories. still basking in the warmth of his hand on your jaw.

a touch from the untouchable.

gojo’s lying on your couch.

he usually is, to be fair, so it shouldn’t be surprising. kicking his legs up, watching tv — or sleeping, snoring loudly, like the couch belongs to him. like your home belongs to him. like he pays rent, and doesn’t just laze around and devour all the sweets in your kitchen cabinets.

(he’s there so often that you’re starting to wonder if you should give him a copy of your keys, or something. but you have a feeling that’d be just a smidge too intimate for him to ever accept.)

this time, however, gojo is doing neither of those things.

he’s on your couch, but he isn’t manspreading, or draping himself over the leather with a lazy grin. he doesn’t have that air of effortless confidence. and it’s palpable, in the air, the open space, enough that you can feel it. an itch on your skin, a lump in your throat. you could practically feel it as soon as you walked through the door.

he isn’t wearing his blindfold, or his shades. he isn’t even smiling. and gojo is always, always smiling.

you think he might be having a rough day.

even the cats are noticing that something’s off. jumping up in his lap, trying to comfort him, brushing against his legs. purring, when he cradles them close — always so gentle with them. hands petting down their backs, softly, the same hands he uses to rip out the throats of curses and curse users alike.

then they mewl and run away. and for once you wish they wouldn’t, wish they could keep clinging to him like they always do. just to make him feel better. right now, in the state he’s in, you wouldn’t even mind gojo’s usual smug declarations of how does it feel to know they like their papa best?

you can’t help but feel unsure of yourself. gojo isn’t doing anything, and he isn’t saying anything. he’s just lying there, on his back, eyes closed. letting the darkness of the room engulf him. drowning in his own thoughts.

he must know that you’re there. he must have heard you come in. but he isn’t saying anything, and you wonder if that means he wants you to leave him alone.

you’re reminded of that one morning. when he woke up on your couch, and looked more human than you’d ever seen him. how you wanted to avert your eyes, how wrong it felt to see a god rouse from its slumber.

(but you know better now.)

hesitantly, you begin to inch closer, step by step. quiet, floorboards barely creaking beneath your weight. tentative, as you settle down on the couch. brushing against the infinity between you.

gojo’s eyes flicker open. like an old tape beginning to play. they still shine with that same brilliance, they always do, but now you think they look just a little dull. a little red.

a moment passes. agonizingly slow.

before you can properly think it through, you’ve done it. almost on instinct, jumping the gun before he has the chance to cover everything up with jokes and laughter. opening your arms; a silent invitation.

gojo only stares.

his gaze moves down to your outstretched arms, and then up to your face. your pursed lips, nervous eyes, worried crease between your brows. one second passes. two, five. you stop counting.

for a moment, you’re almost certain that he’s about to get up and leave. that he’ll flash you a smile that doesn't reach his eyes, walk out the door and then never return. like you flew too close to the sun, just another icarus too mesmerized by the glow of his grin to notice your melting wings. like you stepped over the fragile line that separates his bones from yours, his heartbeat from your greedy hands.

— but then he sluggishly gets into a sitting position, and doesn't look at you.

when gojo collapses into your embrace, you’re so surprised that you almost forget how to breathe. almost forget your own name, forget whose home you’re in, why your arms are wrapped around a pale man. all you can think of is how warm he feels, how he’s like a weighted blanket against you. how he trusts you enough to come so very close.

cheek pressed against your chest, arms loose around your waist. no infinity, no barriers. just a single touch shared between two damaged human beings.

a brief inhale gives you the composure that you need. air flowing into your lungs, your brain, as you settle into a comfortable position. no words leave your lips; you just continue to hold him, one hand on his back, testing the waters. letting him hear the echo of your heartbeat. unsure, the both of you, but something about this feels right. close to right. almost there.

gojo is stiff. when you strain your ears, you hear a sharp intake of breath, and a full body shiver courses through him. a tremble of his spine. like he’s itching to run, like he doesn’t quite know where to put his hands. so painfully unused to a proper embrace.

(a little like a frightened fawn.)

a tender something unfurls within your chest, and you feel almost devoured by the fondness rooting itself into your beating heart. delicate, as you begin to brush away his tousled bangs, leaning close. pressing a kiss to his forehead, glistening with sweat. letting your lips linger on his skin.

he’s pale, shining in the bleak moonlight cast from the translucent curtains of your living room windows. pale like a ghost. and there are dark crescents beneath his dull eyes.

nightmares, you surmise. they haunt him too, don’t they? of course they do.

eyes brimming with emotion, you gaze at him; quiet as a mouse, closing his eyes. leaning into your touch, ever so slightly, breathing out a sigh tinged with pure exhaustion. and a certain realization washes over you, akin to a tidal wave, sudden and inevitable. so obvious it’s funny.

you’re not a god at all, are you?

a coo slips from your lips. barely a sound, more like a soothing breath. warm against his cold skin.

you’re just like everyone else. just as fragile.

one of your thumbs goes to smooth over the puffy skin beneath his eyes. so, so gentle. like one wrong touch could have him crumbling into little grains of stardust, spilling out over the worn leather of your couch.

there are so many things you wish you could say to him. so many things you’ll never be able to say, because you’re afraid that if you give him too much it’ll scare him off. like love could burn him if it were to leak out too fervently. like it’s burned him before.

so you don’t say anything. but you think it, you repeat it inside your mind like a prayer, and some part of you thinks that’s enough. i’ve got you — a whisper that you don't dare to voice.

one gojo still manages to hear, somehow, if the way he tugs you closer and snuggles into your neck is anything to go by. a shaky exhale brushing against your collarbone.

(if you feel something wet touch the skin of your shoulder, you don’t mention it.)

you simply hold him, and don’t even think the thought of letting go. even though it takes him hours just to fall asleep, hours you spend anxiously wondering if he’ll change his mind and pull away. but he doesn't leave, even though his body may want him to, and that's enough, and you don’t let go. not even once. he stays cradled to your chest the same way you’d hold a tiny puppy, something fragile. something you need to handle with care.

and when his heartbeat finally mellows out, when you hear little barely audible snores flow from his lips, you finally begin to relax. melting into the couch beneath you, watching him get the rest he deserves. praying that any nightmares of his will be given to you instead.

sleep comes, eventually, to the both of you. tangled up on the couch, him on top of you, comforted by the flutter of each other’s heartbeat. by the warmth of another human being. safe in each other’s arms.

(the next morning, through hazy sunshine and the clinking of coffee cups, he teasingly tells you that just satoru is fine.)

it’s barely daybreak when satoru wakes you up.

a rude awakening, to say the least. he pulls out all the stops, intent on not letting you sleep even a second longer; poking at your cheek, pinching them when that doesn’t work. tickling you, blowing cold air into your ear, flopping down on top of you like a big dog. anything to rouse you from your deep slumber.

and he just will not give it up. no matter how hard you try to ignore him, no matter how many times you swat him away with your duvet pillow or turn to bury your face into the sheets. that’s how satoru always is, how he’s always been, how he hopefully always will be — an absolute pain. one you wouldn’t trade for anything else in the world.

so, when he starts whining for you to just wake up already, voice tinged with a sadness that tugs at your heartstrings, you find yourself opening your tired eyes. all while he murmurs on and on about something unintelligible, still trying to bribe you.

”i’ll make you coffee, okay? just get up. c’moooon.”

”… what time is it, satoru?” is all you mutter, voice leaving your lips in a raspy, disgruntled fashion. stirring a little at the promise of coffee.

he cracks a grin. ”don’t worry about it! just come with me.”

despite your grumpy attitude, and the ungodly hour at which satoru shakes you awake, you find yourself letting him scoop you up and set you down on the kitchen counter. placing a hot cup of coffee in your hands, made just the way you like it, before grinning mischievously in a way that has you feeling ill at ease.

and ten minutes later, you find yourself on top of a hill. overlooking the woods, and a big lake below you, no city lights visible no matter where you turn — god knows where he’s taken you, but it’s pretty.

breathtaking, even. all frost and wildlife and peace, sweet solitude, tiny flowers blooming on the patches of grass around you. a murder of crows takes flight in the distance, scattering into the indigo of the sky.

gojo grins, boyish and bright, excited breaths turning into vapour as he speaks. awfully proud of himself.

”i can’t take you on vacation, but —”

he drags you with him, arm looped around your own, plopping down on the ground. not before taking off his jacket, to cover the ground beneath you. grass tickles the skin of your palms, as you comfortably spread your legs, making sure to sit as close to him as possible.

and your heart softens a little.

because he’s mentioned it, before; how it’d be nice to go on a road trip, someday, just the two of you. all around the world, wherever the wind takes you. basking in that feeling of freedom. it’s no more than a fever dream, though, with how busy satoru is, the responsibilities you both shoulder.

so this’ll have to do. that’s probably what he’s thinking.

”the sun’ll rise soon. it’ll be pretty, i promise,” he beams, so close that you feel his warm breath on your skin. that you can see the dimples on his cheeks, his barely visible freckles.

”oh, so that’s why you woke me up so early.”

his smile widens. ”nice, right? i wanted to surprise you. d’you like it?”

a smile blooms on your lips, in tandem with his, honeyed and content. indulgent. gojo looks at it, and immediately knows your answer.

”yeah. it’s really pretty out here,” you face forward, taking a deep breath, fresh morning air entering your lungs. cool and crisp, stirring your sleepy mind. ”kinda nostalgic.”

satoru hums, and follows your lead. looking ahead, admiring the beauty of an empty world.

the big lake looks like a mirror, from here, glittering in the peripheral of your vision. the sun licks at the frozen sky, not quite breaking through, not entirely ready to rise — but it paints everything a rusty gold and you can almost feel spring shining through, taste it on your tongue, that promise of something better, something more concrete. a warmth you don’t have to question.

a warmth that’ll stay with you for a long time to come.

it takes about ten seconds for the man by your side to start speaking, again, shattering the peaceful silence. but you don’t mind. his voice is nice, a mellow melody to your morning-fatigued brain.

side by side, you wait for the sun to rise. sharing hushed whispers and laughter, like two kids having a sleepover. like nothing exists but the space that cocoons you, wraps you up in a nostalgia so palpable the entire world feels like a fond memory.

(it makes you feel a millenia younger.)

satoru giggles like a child, telling you about something shoko said, or something megumi did, and you don’t miss a single word that spills from his glossy lips. hanging on to every word he’s willing to give to you.

he looks so unbothered, like this. eyes crinkling, humming some tune you don’t recognize, like a little nightingale ready to take flight into the skies.

you part your lips, admiring his features. every patch of skin you can see. words making themselves manifest, hungry to see inside his brain, to know more about him. a fascination that’s never quite left you — though now you think it may be better described as love. ”hey, satoru?”

at the sound of his name, he turns to you. the weight of his eyes feels so light, like this. those blessed eyes staring into yours. he tilts his head, a smile playing at his lips. ”mm?”

”if you could go anywhere you wanted, where would you be right now?”

satoru blinks.

he looks at you, a mild surprise flitting through the lines of his face, as he takes you in. measures the weight of your words.

then he smiles, again. lopsided, almost a smirk, rich with amusement. a hum buzzes in his throat, like a butterfly itching to break out.

”.. you teasing me?”

a huff fills the air. ”it’s a genuine question!” you insist, moving your leg to nudge his own. ”c’mon. anywhere in the world. i’m just curious.”

another hum. he narrows his eyes, playfully, biting at the inside of his cheek to hold back a chuckle when that makes you grumble. pouting softly, tilting your head. he’s amused, you can tell.

but he closes his eyes, lashes fluttering, glimmering with morning dew. and you can tell he’s taking you seriously. tasting the question on his tongue.

something shines in his eyes, when he opens them again; crinkling at the corners, soft lines of crows’ feet. you can almost see that burst of aquamarine, breaking through the black glass of his shades. like the laws of physics can’t contain it. and he smiles, as always, a smile so beautiful you wish you could live on the curve of his lips. flimsy, no teeth peeking out, no dimples to admire. but sweet. slathered with honey, as sincere as can be.

his voice comes out a little raspy, tainted with a tinge of fatigue, a smokey residue that sticks to the walls of his throat. but it's genuine, like he just woke up, like he's too sleepy to be dishonest. like every word he says can be no more or less than the absolute truth.

and when he turns to face you, tilting his head enough for you to see that shade of blue you love so dearly, his eyes shine with an honestly so palpable you feel like you’re being devoured.

satoru parts his lips.

”right next to you.”

a moment passes. silent, endless, no sound to be heard but the beating of your own heart.

at last, the sun breaks through that layer of frost, peeking up from the boundary of the world — and the morning begins to thaw. streaks of sunlight cascade down the contours of his handsome face, painting him a mellow gold, and it’s almost enough to distract you from the warmth of his hand finding yours.

for a moment, satoru looks unsure. smile shifting in the light, into something slightly stiff, and you know that means he's nervous. silent, as he wets his glossy lips. pink tongue tasting strawberry chapstick.

then he’s leaning forward.

it’s chaste, the kiss he plants on your forehead, soft as the flutter of a butterfly’s wings. but it lingers, even after he’s pulled back — a warmth on your skin. a silent declaration.

he doesn't have to say anything. when you look up at him you can see the red flush of his ears, and when you strain your ears you can hear all those unspoken whispers. the sentiment neither of you will ever have to say out loud, because you know. it’s there. and it means everything.

and you know that for as long as you live, you’ll both have this. one single thread of normalcy, in your unorthodox existences, one single glimmer of something almost entirely good. something that heals, something that isn’t a blessing and a curse all in one. something soft to the touch.

there’s no need to find the right words for it. there never was.

”kinda looks like melted ice cream.”

the words pull you out of your stupor. satoru’s looking at the sky, and you follow his gaze, watching the sunrise in tandem with him.

it’s beautiful. soft clouds melting into pinks and oranges, dappling sunbeams lapping at the trees, a saffron shade washing over the empty world in front of you. a world that may not be so empty, after all, because you hear crows in the distance, and someone’s fishing by the lake, and you think you spot a squirrel in the tree closest to you.

and you have someone, right next to you, right by your side. someone who won’t ever leave.

sometimes, loving satoru gojo feels a little like strolling on the edge of a cliff. like one wrong step could have you tumbling down, a mess of broken bones and unspoken words. but if you do stumble and fall — you know he’ll be waiting at the bottom of the precipice. arms outstretched, wearing that same innocent grin, ready to hoist you both back up.

so you know it’ll be fine.

swallowing down a bout of fresh laughter, like a flower unfurling in your chest, petals brushing against your ribcage, you give in. opting to bask in the moment, in his presence.

”yeah,” you puff out a chuckle, head slumping against satoru’s shoulder. he makes a little noise of approval, and your grin grows. ”it does.”

he doesn’t say anything. smiling, wordlessly, admiring the way the sun kisses up your collarbone. lighting up your face. and you bask in his warmth, how right it feels to be tucked into his side. how safe he feels, even now. how safe you make him feel.

you look at the man to your left, and he looks back at you, and that wonderful unnamed something unfurls inside your chest again. and, without having to speak it aloud, you know it will continue to do so.

many, many years later, he’ll still be satoru, and you’ll still be you. the distance between you will be what it always was; breachable.

and that will be enough.

#one final MWAH <333 i hope your day/night is cozy and soft and full of warm things!! n good food!!!! ☀️☀️🍊🍊☕️��️#i’m sending a boxed gojo satoru to your location asap… he’ll take care of you since i can’t 😔😔 he’ll just have to do for now!!#no but this was just. the sweetest thing #your comments rlly do mean sm :’3 esp since your own prose is so unbelievably gorgeous i NEED to say it again bc it gets me awestruck #i admire you sm!!! both your writing and you as a person!!! i hope you know that <333 #i am hugging you close #self rb !!

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blissfulalchemist · 2 years ago

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WIP Wednesday!

Wow it’s uh actually Wednesday for once….any way tagged most recently by @adelaidedrubman and @shallow-gravy I’m sure there’s more but they have been buried 😔 apologies. Sending out tags to: @belorage @florbelles @strafethesesinners @heroofpenamstan @blackreaches @shellibisshe @preachercuster @jackiesarch @confidentandgood @themarcspector @celestialissues @folklyric @indorilnerevarine and anyone else that wants too!

This one is a little long (possibly idk maybe I went to bed at 5am so brain is weird but! lord knows when I’ll get to having many wips to pick from) but have what may very well be an au or canon (don’t know yet gotta get through SB to see) for FFXIV with Siberite and Thancred. Minor brushes of spoilers but may be more of a iykyk kind of deal.

It was perfect, thought out, and destined to happen. He was ready to take the hit, ready to do everything he could to protect her, make sure she’d be there to continue to bring the hope this world needed, it was a perfect plan….

She knows and sees the blast coming, sees the trajectory is straight for her, and can feel that this is going to hurt much more than the other’s she’s taken. She just has to brace herself, just has to accept that this might be the end, a hero’s ending. In an instant though she can see him coming, see that he’s bracing himself to stand before her, and in an instant she’s back on that roof. The sound of metal armor as he yells at her to look out, how much force hit the shield that held its own for longer than she assumed, and the small smile he gives her while his eyes fill with worry. The cracking, that loud and undeniable cracking sound that’s followed by the thud of his body against stone.

Not again….

Not again.

Not. Again.

She just needs a single step forward and a motion to push him to the side, something she can do in an instant….and she does. She does and can feel the last of her chakra power flow into that shove before the strange cold and heat of the blast hits her skin. Its a strange sensation to be so still and feel like you’re being pushed back into the center of the earth. To be able to see still through the blinding light, but a comfort to see that he’s safe, to see that they all are. The edges of her vision darken as her body finally relaxes to fall back and there’s a calm that washes over her. Its what she’s wanted….all this time she had wished to finally be free of the expectations, the guilt, the heartache, the weight of the world on her shoulders, but still there’s a part of her that can’t help but be sad, remorseful, yearning to live as she sees his face fall into horror. We were so close weren’t we? So close to some kind of happy ending….

“Siberite!” Thancred calls out as the magic blast dissipates and [REDACTED] laughs darkly, grabbing onto the hilt of his sword. Thancred grinds his teeth pulling weapons free as he sprints to her, the meeting blades sending off a high pitched sound. He lets out a kick and another and another parry and anything to get him back just far enough to….his hands are quick in grabbing the smoke bomb and launching it at the ground in a moment of his opponent’s readying for an attack. He scoops her up with ease as he makes a break for some place far from that room, far from that man. It takes him to navigating the machinery in the ceilings until he finds an alcove to set her down and allow him a moment to think, to plan, to examine, to realize, to pray that she’s okay. She’s not though….looking at her now he can confirm that it was a bit of blood he felt seeping into his clothes, that her breathing is so weak he can’t even see her chest rise and fall in the slightest, and the feel of her pulse beneath his fingers grows slower and weaker with each passing moment. Gods damned, why couldn’t he have been a healer!

The link pearl in his ear goes off and it’s Y’shtola asking where they are, details of words fading from his focus as he asks one question, “Is [REDACTED] still there?” A minuscule amount of relief when she answers no and they saw him leave in what he knows to be the opposite direction of where he hides now. A place that he now finds was just feet from the room in which she fell, all the better for her to get healing magics sooner. Siberite’s blood trail leads the way back to Y’shtola, Alphinaud, and Estinien standing in the center of the room, eyes growing wide when Thancred walks in cradling her in his arms. “Do you think you can-?” He starts to ask before the quaking of the building interrupts them and makes for the plans to shift for a way out to become priority. Just a little longer, darling, just hold on a little longer, He repeats again and again as the group weaves their way through the facility, knowing full well she grows colder and paler.

The group stops, weapons drawn, staring down the eyes of the Warrior of Light’s killer as he just smiles. “Well, well, it seems like I’ve won,” his icy blue eyes meets every one of them, “The Warrior of Light is dead. This is cause for celebration.” Estinien moves first with a yell, tip of his weapon aimed for the chest, but with a flick of [REDACTED] wrist the dragoon is thrown against a wall, “Did you honestly think you could take me out like that?” Estinien lets out a low growl as he sits up, “Pathetic. All of you weak, which means none of you are worth my time.” And just like that he starts to walk away, “Don’t worry I’ll make sure word gets out about her perishing, you can trust me on that.”

Estinien rises once more to charge after when a hand from Alphinaud stops him in his tracks, “Let him go. We may yet still have a chance to save her,” he gives a pointed look to where Thancred holds her, Estinien slowly backing down, “but we cannot do anything for her here. We must go.” Another rumble and debris begins to fall, “Come on! We have to hurry!”

#anyway I’m gonna throw myself into this next expansion and come out soaking in my tears #I’ve got a big storm coming for me and I was crying and going on a roller coaster with the warm up last night so….rip to me #but these idiots! i love these idiots so much I promise you!#my wip tag

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hanafubukki · 3 years ago

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AWW THANK YOU FOR THE LOVE

⬜🟥⬜⬜⬜🟥⬜

🟥🟥🟥⬜🟥🟥🟥

🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥

⬜🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬜

⬜⬜🟥🟥🟥⬜⬜

⬜⬜⬜🟥⬜⬜⬜

YES EPEL DESERVES ALL THE LOVE IN THE WORLD. AWW YES (๑•ᴗ•๑)♡ those fan arts with Epel being future dorm leader just makes me hearts 💘💘 （｡>‿‿<｡）

Lololol yess I love mood booster Rook (๑˃̵　ᴗ　˂̵)و

I love to imagine when Rook and Epel are argue with each other with a bad atmosphere Rook just popped in the middle of them and goes "Bonjour Mounsiur Mon Cheri! Roi de poison! (≡^∇^≡)"

My sister plays twst it's because of me who keep telling her that the game is amazing with an amazing story line, she' just come into twst fandom about two weeks ago (❁´◡`❁)

I ALWAYS WANT MERCH ٩(๑꒦ິȏ꒦ິ๑)۶

Though I'm broke lmao (　´)Д(｀ )

I really want to try NRC uniform but it's very expensive.. I just wanted the uniform (　；∀；)

Hauhauha there's literally no one who knows twst besides me and my sister that I knew. (　；∀；)

Though I have a junior in my school who plays twst, but I never get the chance to get her number so I never really talked about twst to anyone besides my sister ╥﹏╥

WAAAA EVENT ART BOOKS?? YES PLEASE DEVS 🙏🙏🙏 (*∩ω∩)

No lie would buy the book, even when i'm broke 💪('ω'💪)

IMAGINE MALLEUS SSR WITH HIS BANGS UP, SO WE CAN SEE HIS FORHEAD AND THE COOL MARK IN HIS FORHEAD AJDKFOFODOFKFOF ��( ✧Д✧)∩ (〃ﾟ3ﾟ〃)

Silver prince supremacy 👏( 'ω' )👏( 'ω' )

DEVS GAVE US DIASOMNIA CONTENT ୧( ಠ Д ಠ )୨

Devs gave us Pain and happiness (ﾉ´∀｀*)

Ace with that smirk and wink really tries to steal my heart, as expected from an Ace ( ͡°_ʖ ͡°) (´༎ຶ ͜ʖ ༎ຶ `)❤

Lilia really has a very uniqe taste (　；∀；)

LMAO He really wants to eat us o(TヘTo)

No eating Leona (っ'-')╮=͟͟͞͞)ꐦ°᷄д°᷅)

I HAVEN'T SEEN THAT POST- Σ(ﾟДﾟ；)

TWST YOU'VE GOTTA BE KIDDING NO YOU MAKE ME MORE CURIOUS ABOUT WTF IS HAPPENING WITH THE ANGST IDIA AND ORTHO HAD. (◞ ‸ ◟ㆀ)

I WANTED THEM TO COMBINE, NOT ROBO ORTHO DIE. ヽ(`д´；)/

Robo ortho and og Ortho both are still Idia's younger bro. They deserves all the hugs ʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ

OH GOD NOT THE SYMBOLISM WITH BUTTERFLY ୧( ಠ Д ಠ )୨

Devs I swear ( ͡°Ĺ̯ ͡° ) you won't..

Twst fandom really be an amazing detective to realized those small details (^o^)/

AIFKGOFKGOKFGOG LMAO THAT WOULD BE FUNNY, PEOPLE CRYING ABOUT ORTHO ANGST AND ALL AND HE JUST GOES "Hey look I can change my teeth shapes, isn't it cool o(〃＾▽＾〃)o?" AHAHAHAHA I'M DYING

HAHAHAHAHA ELIZA 2.0 YES

Hello Emoticon Anonie 💜💙🌺

Yeeesss and I love all the family pomefiore fanarts that came flooding in 👏👏 can’t wait for that to start happening again but with diasomnia. I’m already thriving with all the new fairy gala art 🥰🥰

Before I forget to ask, what’s your favorite twst moment? And your favorite malleus moment?

I think my favorite moment is in dances and stars with deuce and his mom. And my favorite malleus moment had to be his birthday card with him looking at mc fondly abdjsnsjsjsjsjs

I’m glad that you were able to persuade your sister into giving twst a chance 🙌🙌 I hope that she’s having fun. Does she have the same oishi?? Lolol

Snskajshsjs I know Anonie 😭😭 I feel you there, it’s only been recently that I’ve been able to buy merch, been working and saving money so I finally felt that I “should put my happiness first” and then did it.

There’s always time Anonie 👏👏 you can do it in the future 👏👏

Do you mean cosplay the uniform? That’s such a cute idea! Maybe you can make your own? Like get some shirts that look the same ish and some pants and Blazers?

I always wanted to try and cosplay their robes. I feel like I would steal one of their ms and never give it back 😂😂

Abdjajahshs I’m sorry Anonie 😔 it’s always hard to start up a conversation with like interests in irl and then you just… loose the chance. But it’s okay, at least you have the online community 🥺💙🌺

Yes! I would literally fight to get an event book, I’m always tempted to get the magic archives because pretty pictures too 😭😭

YES MALLEUS WITH FOREHEAD SCALES PLEASE. I was so happy they put that in the master chef for him 😭😭 imagine his hair tied back and you dancing with him??? Whdjsosisjdkd

Silver princely content almost can get us to forgive devs for the pain they will cause us…almost. If all diasomnia boys show up in the event….maybe I’ll consider it lolol 🤣🤣

Noooo emoticon Anonie don’t fall for his trap! Wkdjdjsshs that’s how he will get you akdnsjsnddndn lolol jkjk ace is a little shit but he’s our little shit. I love him too and sometimes I want to pull for him but I must stay strong! Have you seen his first year valentine card? What a cheeky guy! Widksjdnffn

LMFAOOO THAT SMACKING EMOJI ENDS ME, I JUST PICTURED US SMACKING HIM AND HIS FACE AND THEN RUNNING AWAY AND I CAAAANNT SJDJDJSJDJDJR 😂😂

Before I forget again! Omg, Anonie, what did you think of lilias voice change?? I was surprised and just kept replaying it 😳😳

YEAH! I hope they both somehow live shsjahssh it just makes me so sad because robo ortho just wants idias happiness so imagine him sacrificing himself 😭😭

I am surprised everyday how deep and deep and the connections the twst fandom makes. 👏👏🙏🙏

I know it might not happen BUT I CANT HELP BUT PRAY IT DOES BECAUSE COMEDY AND I WOULD LOVE TO SEE PEOPLES REACTION LOLOL

it’s what they deserve 😤😌

#answered #anonie ask #🤗emoticon anon #disney tw spoilers #english twisted wonderland spoilers

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milkybonya · 3 years ago

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Jfjdjsjsjs oh my god boyfriend pics are my fav genre of idols pics I always make them my lockscreen like a whole delulu 😔 he looks amazing wowowow I definitely want to watch treasure box at some point!! Is that their survival show or their like regular show thing?? I'm not sure lol but I do enjoy watching the survival shows even though they are known to rip your heart out 😔 ALSO HARUTO BESTIE SODA ONLY!? 😭😭 IS HE OKAY??? 😭😭 Real question tho how are his teeth still so white and beautiful ahh maybe the benefits of being young 😔 (I say as a 22 year old but anyways-) and I agree about mashiho!! I think he could pull off anything but I am a bit biased towards cutie Mashi 🥰 buttttt he did post this pic a few days ago and I was like HELLO??? 👀👀 He literally looks so fine go off king

also I don't think I commented on it in my last ask but Asahi really do just be 🧍 while still doing it all like he is literally amazing?? I found this pic and I couldn't stop thinking about it like man is truly an enigma to me (but I'm like obsessed with it. I wanna figure him out but I also love being surprised by his every move)

I've finally dived more into their other music videos and let me just say I am so uwu over Beautiful and My Treasure those videos make my heart so warm 💙 I love their cute purple suit outfits in my treasure like omg look at them!! I also watched boy very early on in stanning but I've been watching it way more recently I think the switch just needed a second to be turned on. In some of the scenes when Hyunsuk is dancing he just smiles and my heart explodes. He's such a good dancer oml I love watching their performances! (not me going back to jikjin but-) when he's on the right next to Junkyu in the first chorus idk he just exudes such confidence and charisma when he dances. Idk everyone is so talented but when it comes to dancing my eyes to tend to follow him but I guess that's why they call it a bias 🤪 (although jaehyuk and mashiho take the cake for dancing in I love you their parts stand out to me sm I love it)

I've really been enjoying stanning Treasure like 🥺🥺 they're the best boys!!! If you have any specific videos/interviews/fan made videos you think I should check out please let me know I love having things in my queue for when I have a second 🥰 I'm glad to hear you are enjoying your time in Korea! I hope it has been all you've expected and more!! 💙 I hope you have or had a nice day whenever you read this 😊

no cause bf pics are just such a comfort :< so sofT aHH

treasure box is their survival show, yes ! i was told to watch it by someone on here to help me learn abour treasure but i couldn't finish it 😭 i watched it after i already got into them and watching survivals when you already know them is just more painful 😭😭 so watch it at your own risk~

the benefits of youTh sksks IM DEAD AHH but hey youre young too ! we are all young here !!! seriously Haruto ,, what are your teeth secrets 🤲🏼

THAT MASHIHO PIC AHH *@&@*@&#*@*

Asahi is an interesting human omg i love him,,,,,, hes so talented and also weird but we love him <3

the beautiful mv is so cute :< it still amazes me that Yoshi is behind that song omg

Hyunsuk's dancing presence is surreal,, i love how he knows himself so well? if that makes sense?? and it shows through his dance ?? JAEHYUK IN I LOVE YOU HAS MY WHOLE HEART EEEE

omg omg well watching treasure map is a must ! it's treasure's reality show and is so calming/wholesome :< my mind is blanking on what else to watch,, i'm sure if oomfs see this, they will reply/reblog with their own faves but ! oH treasure's yearly dance complication cover thingies are always so fun omg

my mind is blanking so hard T.T

have the best day/night ever, my love! stay hydrated, eat well, and take breaks !!!

#baekhyuns lipchain ;3;#yutopiada talks

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btscontentenjoyer · 2 years ago

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This was incredible, amazing, heartbreaking, tension-filled and did I mention incredible? I seriously didn't expect to be so whipped for this Jungkook, I swear... but I totally am.

"It splits your heart to imagine him standing there alone, waiting for you, bunny teeth nibbling at a plush lip in anticipation. Something about a waiting Jeon Jungkook, discouraged when he realised you weren’t coming anymore, hurts." Aw it kind of does hurt, doesn't it? And that fact that she feels that way despite what she learned really speaks to the hold he has on all of us.

"Because sometimes, your wishful thinking sparks an encouraging amount of hope in you. Hope that he’d tell you he didn’t mean what he vowed to his uncle. Or that his words belonged to a near past, and that you, your smile, your touch have changed something." I really am glad that she still has hope, because I do too. But now that she's actually said it I have a feeling it's not quite going to work out yet. I feel like I have trust issues now lmaoo.

"Even though you craved a deep love, and even agonising experiences such as a broken heart, you don’t think you’re quite ready for communication." Mmmm, yeah, she did mention before she wanted to experience heartbreak along with love 😔

"Quiet yearning." Oh. 😳😳😳

“You won't let me go up for a minute? I could take care of her. I could bring a doctor to her, we have very dilige––” Take care of her???? Broooooo 🥺🥺🥺

"Then, your sister, “I appreciate it. Next time, you can do just that.” Lmao, that's exactly right!

"Because he met you instead? Because he’s learned to cherish someone else better; because your sister wasn’t what he was seeking, not for his little, mischievous plans, but because you mean something to him." Yes 🥺

“But I’m still sorry,” he continues. You lift your forehead from the wall. “I wasn’t good enough. And I’d like to be for at least someone.” Oh godddd, he literally has me fucked up with everything he's saying. I honestly don't know how I'm so whipped for this man already, but it seems like I am.

"It was your sister who broke things off with him. If she hadn’t, maybe he’d still be by her side, serenading her, angling an arm for her to take." Ah yes, that does put a damper on things and it's definitely a cause of doubt.

“Nothing,” you repeat, leaning back, lower lip jutted out as you pull your knees in. “What could go wrong with a royal? They’re immaculate, flawless. What could possibly happen with such graceful chara—” Oh, she's so cute 🥺 poor OC.

"He doesn’t even know that you did." True </3

"And you want to wait. Give him just one chance to explain." Oh god, I hope he doesn't blow that one chance when she does give it to him. I'm nervousss.

"And as though she has infiltrated your mind, she pulls out your words and echoes, “The entire marriage season means nothing to me, if I cannot find what I seek. Stumbling upon real love is hard these days.” Ah, it seems that that's true in any century 😔

"Is it only one when you get your happy ending? Or is it enough to thoroughly, unconditionally love someone? To be loved back, even when the outcome proves to be sad?" Very very good questions indeed 😔😔😔

"A poke against the small of your back makes you hiss, and you glare at the girls, back and forth between them; they’re urging you to go. Trying to play matchmaker since they know nothing about your current situation." Well, Jungkook does't really know about the situation either, so…

"To be fair, he knows just as much as them." Lmaooooo, exactly!!!!!

"Despite the radiant sun and the balmy breeze, the aura is gloomy between you. A thundercloud floats over your head, raining down on you, but he can’t see it; can’t protect you from the cold." 😔😔😔

"You didn’t know summer joy had the potential to turn into grim anguish, too." Everything reminds me of cmi and I want to cry 😭😭😭

"His forefinger and thumb keep fumbling with the other hand’s glove, tugging at invisible strings until he’s pulled the material halfway off his hand. It allows a tiny glimpse at his wrist before he fixes his mistake again, still unable to vocalise whatever’s prowling his mind." Aaaah so interesting that he's this nervous!!!! Can I stop being endeared by everything he does though, how am I such a simp 🙄🙄🙄

"Maybe, given the nature of your past and its effects, you shouldn’t hurt as much as you do. But… you still fucking do." Oh I think their past actually makes the pain worse. To know that she was just starting to really like him despite their past… she really must feel like a fool for that now, although of course she isn't, he really does seem sincere about most things. Again, poor OC :((

"Whenever he isn’t riling you up or spinning your thoughts like a wicked spider’s net, he looks like this. Pure. Like he wouldn’t hurt a fly; like he’s never laid eyes on anything evil before, child-like oblivion." He's so dangerous 😤😤😤

"It seems that Jungkook remembers it just as well; the not so buried memory must reside at the forefront of his mind as it does with you, because he immediately says, “I know. But it was still beautiful.” Still punching my pillow at this, even though I've read it before.

“Oh, I meant to ask,” Jungkook suddenly voices, the movement of his hand so rapid that you reflexively shrink. You despise how alarmed you are — perhaps you’re forgetting that he’ll only hurt your heart, not your body. “Will you be attending brunch this weekend?” Damn, she really is hurt if she's physically flinching and thinking like that too 😭😭😭

“I wasn’t going to. But I will if you do,” he answers. For just a moment, your heart doesn’t bleed but recover, pounding when he draws closer and breathes, “I’ve been missing you.” He is so!!!!!!! It's unfair 😤😤😤

"Stupidly enough, even though it pains you, you want to stay in this moment. You want him to look at you like this, so you have the little sparks of hope to hold onto when you fall asleep tonight." 🥺🥺🥺

"You don’t answer; you look at him with shadows in your eyes, wondering if you should speak up now. You want to. And you think you will. But there’s still no opportunity for it — people are walking past." I am all for OC giving him the cold shoulder! I know he deserves it, no matter how much of a soft spot I have for him.

"He scares you — the dimples in his cheeks, the tender, dark waves in his eyes. Once again, when not irresistibly dangerous, he reminds of a puppy. Innocent, almost shy." Again 😤😤😤😤

“Please,” he begins one last time, lifting a hand to yours before he lets it fall again within a moment. “Talk to me when you’re ready.” I'm getting mad at myself at this point for going 🥺🥺🥺 literally every time he speaks. I'm usually better than this lmao.

“Alright. I tried staying away.” Why am I having physical reactions to this??? Like my heart started beating faster. Helppppp

"Hotter and deadlier when he looks at you so innocently, gulping down the encouragement for you to finally speak up; and instead he says, “But whatever it is. Could you wait just a little longer?” Ugh nooooo 😔😔😔 They need to talk!!!

"He’s insecure. Fearful. His dark pupils dig into yours, dimples absent, his jaw harder than usual. You wonder whether you’re as undecodable to him as he is to you." He needs to stop triggering my instinct to take care of people fr.

"You tilt your head as you finally swerve, away from his touches, bowing sarcastically just a little as you look into his deceiving face. You don’t care that you won’t be able to dance with anyone anymore today; firmly, you tell him, “I apologise, but no.” Honestly I support this, I mean, how does he think he can convince her when he doesn't even know what the problem is?

"What an idiot." Yeah… a little.

“But I’ve wanted to see you the entire past week,” he murmurs, close to your face. His touch moves to your cheek, and you almost melt. “This silly head of mine,” his eyes drop to your lips, and then dart back up, “wouldn’t stop thinking of you all this while.” He's literally making me mad that I can't stay mad at him lmaoooo. He needs to stop!!!!!!

"But the insane part is striving for this. Thriving. Indulging in the touch you dreamed of for days. You shouldn’t, but there’s something alluring about him. And you’re not weak, but you feel like liquid in his palms." I feel exactly like that too 😔😔😔 I was hoping that at least OC would be strong enough to be mean to him, since I can't, but I guess he's just that powerful.

"Your gasps are immediately followed by moans that you attempt to muffle, and you hear him say breathily, “I know. I know.” Not the 'I know', that's my ultimate weakness 😳😳😳 I officially hate this man. For making me so weak for him.

"He understands. You’re surprised that he does. You wish you could bask in this newfound connection, the feeling of having a soulmate. If he wasn’t so obsessed with his own life, maybe you could be happy with him." Aaaaaaaaah.

“I don’t want to hurt,” you say the moment he finds his way back home in your neck." 😭😭😭

"When you lean forward in trance, your forehead following and your sanity dwindling, he pulls you back against his chest, slowly, and says, “Come back to me… please.” You have no idea how many times I've sighed heavily during this scene…

"Angry hands raise and lightly push against his chest as you snarl, “They’d love to be pressed against a damn tree by you.” Daaaaaamn, I support her so much!!! Holding my breath the whole time she's speaking though.

“Do you think,” you begin, “you would’ve at least learned to love me? So many marriages start loveless, that is alright. But someday?” I would not have had the courage to ask that question, that's for sure. Especially since I feel like Jungkook isn't ready to answer it in a way that won't hurt.

“I…” Jungkook is stupid. Always has been. Because instead of tackling your question, he leaps away from it, worsening the moment as he says, “I need to do it.” 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 I hate secrets and not communicating so much 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 I can't even offer any commentary because I just feel the way OC does, still somewhat pulled in by him, trying to see some sense in what's happening and in what we don't know, I was hoping against hope that he would at least explain himself. And yet he didn't at all and now there's just pain and disappointment and sadness and aaaah.

“They are near the end now, but I thought,” he pulled you to the seat at the very back, “if the children from the orphanage wished to participate, they very well could. The winner performs on bigger stages. Sometimes, they write a theatre script.” Oh you are so evil for putting this scene now after what just happened, Rid 😔😔😔 The thing is, I truly do believe he's not a bad guy and that he has his reasons for what he's doing. But I do wish he could just say them!!!!! Anywayyyy this is very sweet of him.

"If you were enjoying it, he was ready to get into trouble for you. For some very odd reason that your togetherness of just a week couldn’t yet justify. Perhaps you’d affected him in the past few days, because he prioritised your joy today." He's come a long way, being willing to get into trouble for her happiness when when they first met, he quite ruthlessly used her as an excuse to get out of trouble that she had nothing to do with. But of course that all happened when he was just a child and affected by his father's death, I understand. Still, I felt it was an interesting connection.

"He continues, “You were a replacement to your sister in the beginning. She and I parted ways, and I was pushed to shift to you.” Oh god, this really must hurt a lot to hear. But at least it's the truth 😔😔😔

“How desperately I needed to see you. Even if you let me go, I needed to see you once.” Stooooooooop 😭😭😭😭😭

“I’ll—” He squeezes your hand. And something about his eagerness, the will to hold onto you squeezes your heart, too. “I’ll take it for you.” Oh my god 😭😭😭😭😭

“If I told you, you’d want to stay with me out of pity. Not because you want me.” That's why he won't tell her?!?!?!

“If you find someone else in the meantime… I will try and be happy for you. But this? Now? I can’t do it…” I understand her decision 😔😔😔 There's no way for something real and lasting to happen between them if he's not willing to tell her the whole truth.

"The day his father died, a big crack split his heart; the night sky looked different that time. Clouds broke, crying with and for Jungkook; he couldn’t see the stars he loved so much behind the downpour." I love when you put your love for the stars and the sky in your work, Rid. I love seeing glimpses of you in your work 💕💕

“The documents on your daughter?” she asked." An illegitimate daughter????????

“I only needed to say that I would like the girl to not be harmed in any way… Please.” 😔😔😔

"Jungkook didn’t know. But life had turned into an inhuman novel with unhappy endings. He didn’t put it past anyone anymore to act in evil ways." He's gone through so much 😔😔😔

“So you indulge in the knowledge that the rain is the only celestial thing you will ever touch…” Oh she's literally so precious. Also, what a scene to go alongside the memories of a different rainy night… And also also, OC spoke of love confessions in the rain that she's read about in books, and while this isn't a confession, it is a special moment shared. (And now that I'm thinking of confessions in the rain you know where my mind also went 😭😭😭😭😭😭)

"No matter how fierce you were, Jungkook realised in that very moment that he was one of the few who elicited this reaction. Because in truth, you were soft as a petal, harmless to an alarming degree." It's true 🥺🥺🥺 OC is a true sweetheart.

"Because looking at the sky that stretched above, he and his worries suddenly did feel small. Even for just a moment — and you, in all your magnificence, felt so endless all of a sudden." My point about how I love seeing your love for the sky reflected in your work still stands. <3

"He pauses, rubbing his chin. “She wanted to know what makes me happy.” Always always seeing her through his eyes makes me love her even more because he just admires her so much and you can tell.

"Whatever started all this time ago has now spread to a wildfire, and it burned a gentle soul like you and left you aching. If everything was solely his fault, he might be able to accept your rejection easier. But the fact that life toyed with him, forced him to certain actions, to lose his sanity, his joy, everything his child self used to feel, and you… is a harsh truth to swallow." 😭😭😭😭 That's exactly it, god. It would be so much easier if he was just an asshole using her for his gain. If there was nothing real between them, if he wasn't hurting too. But that's not the case and it's exactly why it's so heartbreaking.

"Thinking about it now, those are all the things he regrets. Once again, he realises that none of it was his fault. It’s fate’s fault. It’s what brought him here, to a joyless night he’s spending the only way he’s known since he grew old enough." Yes, I was just going to say this!!!!!!! That it makes so much sense for him to go to a strange woman at this time. It's the only way he's ever tried to cope with, or more like distract himself from, his grief. I don't think he's an asshole for doing it, honestly. These defense and coping mechanisms are so ingrained in us that it's extremely hard not to turn to them when we're at our lowest.

"But the flicker’s colours are soothing. This fire is harmless, warm and tender; there are so much worse flames in your very own world." I love when you bring in the titles and the main imagery into the story!!

"Because when you reread the names, plural, and see the amount of money sent, you understand why your father can’t talk about it to anyone else." Plural????

"Because not even you’re sure of that." Nooo, she needs to not give up on him 😔😔😔

"The few minutes to the cemetery stretch endlessly, and you’re irritated when the road becomes bumpy, slowing down the horses." Lmaooo the way I'm restless too, waiting for her to reach the cemetery.

"This isn’t your favourite place to be around. Growing up, you learned to appreciate the colours of the world. Girls around you plastered a smile to their faces, because they were taught to do so, but yours was genuine despite the occasional loneliness. You knew how to love the little joys the world gifted you — until now, you didn’t know deep sorrow or confusion. Life used to be more lighthearted." Ah, that's so different from the way Jungkook was forced to grow up.

"One arm lays on the table over his head, the hand holding onto the edge of the furniture like he’s scared to fall off of it. The other hand is tucked under his cheek, making it bulge. Lips in a pout. Open just a teeny tiny fraction." Not a Jungkook sleeping scene again, you're hitting all my weaknesses, Rid 😤😤😤

"Wiping at the corner of his lips, he takes a deep breath, and when he’s caught his voice eventually, he asks you, “I think I dreamed of you.” A sudden confession. Followed by a pause, giving way to a question, “Am I still?” He is still so freaking… aaaaaah!!!!

"But you counter, “I could ask you the same.” You blink, moving your stare to the grave ahead. “You do not strike me as someone who seeks pain.” He doesn't seek pain because he's been surrounded by it for a long time anyway, my poor baby 😭😭😭

"It’s hard not to. One doesn’t need to be his father to do so." True 🥺🥺🥺

"That’s the thing with big eyes. They first speak out the emotions lingering in the soul and then dig into someone else’s with the same intensity." Rid, you're literally ruining me with every line!!!!!

"He tilts his head in worry, closing his lips; stagnant breathing pushes out of his nose. Whatever the hell he’s grown up with, it must be flooding him with fear." 😭😭😭😭

"You understood the moment you read his uncle’s and his daughter’s name in the letter in your father’s office. Different last names; a business too shady for a royal." 👀👀👀

Ah she's willing to help him out now 🥰🥰🥰 I mean, of course she is, she's literally the kindest person. And also, Jungkook has had to deal with this secret and everything else almost completely alone since he was a child, it must be such a relief to have someone be there for him.

Okay so here's the thing that I find amazing about all of this. Angst and sadness is not something I particularly look for in fanfic but I'm always down to try it, especially when it's written by authors I love. And yet since it's not my favourite thing, a lot of decisions that are made in a story could often not exactly sit well with me.

With you though, Rid, it's a little different because every single decision you make makes total sense to me. I don't know how to explain it, I usually hate miscommunication or even just things left unsaid and I'm so particular about what feels right and what doesn't in emotional scenes and stories. But yet no decision you've ever made when it comes to the character's emotions or what actions they take because of them, has ever felt wrong to me. We're so on the same page, and you make me understand all sides and motives of the characters so well, that I've had such an easier time reading the more angsty parts in your stories than I've ever had before.

I know we've already talked about the "I admire your brain because it's literally mine" thing lmao, but it truly does feel like that so often and it's such a special thing to me.

With that being said, I really love this series, I really love and sympathise with OC about everything and as you can tell, I literally swoon at anything Jungkook does. I'm so proud of you for pushing through when it was hard and still finishing this. I genuinely think it turned out amazing and I would love to see how this story ends <3

candles & flames: fire | jjk (m)

chapter II: fire

Summary: The aftermath of wicked deception and painful revelations. You’re lost and confused, and so is he.

➳ pairing:Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: enemies to lovers, royal!au; angst, fluff, smut ➳ warnings: oblivious jk, hurt oc, misunderstandings, miscommunication is my brand lol, deception, lies, tension, tears, fights, crying, yearning so much yearning !!!, insecurity, flashbacks, pov switch, mention of past minor character death, jk as a kid, angst!; explicit sexual content: hook-ups, fondling with tiddies, biting, bit of choking, kissing, fondling with pussay, erection, bit of grinding, bit of dom!jk, yearning; the ending </3 ➳ wc: 22.8k ➳ a/n: phew okay, here goes :’) super nervous about this one, and super excited for the last/upcoming one. i hope everything turned out well and that you guys enjoy it. as always, do let me know what you think… i appreciate y’all a lot 🥺 !! 👑🤍 ➳ a/n2: this is part 2 to my mini-series candles & flames !! read part 1 here <3

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST | WIPs

When a rhythmic knocking sounds against your entrance door the next morning, you already know who trudged his entire way down to your house.

Keep reading

#simping for this man so hard!!#even in the moments when i probably shouldn't have 😬😬😬#jungkook fic recs #ivi reads

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elsonambulo · 3 years ago

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I want everyone to look at @shewritesdirty's tags:

So you can blame her for the additional cursed content below 😇😔

Louie's still not gay. But Terry Silver is still the Mob Boss and the pretty little plaything rolled into one looming package, so he thinks an exception can be made for him.

Like what was Louie supposed to do when he was eye level with those tits all the time? Not fantasize about making the perky nipples even perkier? Or what about every time he watched those legs - usually tragically encased in the loose pants of a gi - eat up the ground? Was he just not supposed to wonder how far Terry could spread them?

And that's not even touching on his ass, which is one of the more delicious ones Louie has set eyes on, and given that he's an ass man, that's a lot of asses to compete against.

So it's really not a huge surprise to Louie that one night, after a bit of liquid courage, he puts the moves on Terry. He sends a quick thanks up to God that they're in the man's fancy in home bar instead of somewhere public, because he really doesn't think he could have held back any longer and his moves are a lot more overt than other guys'.

Case in point: he's in between Terry's mile-long legs where he's seated on his barstool, pressed up close and pushing him to lean on the counter behind him so Louie can get his teeth on that delectable chest.

And Terry - Terry just lets him, takes another sip of his drink and laughs and cards a hand through Louie's hair, encouraging.

"I hope you don't think you were being subtle this whole time," he says, clearly amused and smug, and Louie burns with both humiliation and the need to knock Terry to the floor so he can rub his now very hard dick on his thigh until he comes.

For a second, he feels the angry Italian in him winning out, and he's going to push back and give Terry a piece of his mind because no one talks to Louie LaRusso like that - and then he feels it.

Terry's hard.

(Terry also seems to have a really big dick but Louie's not going to think about that right now.)

And you know, Louie never claimed to be hard to get; he'll be the first to say he's pretty fucking easy. So easy that he moans into Terry's tits as soon as he feels that hard on brush against his own, presses in more closely until there's the clink of a glass being set down and then there's a hand in Louie's hair. He has a split second to register both the pain of his head being pulled back and Terry's manic grin before lips descend on his, and it's - well.

It's fucking fantastic is what it is.

Maybe it's the alcohol that's making him feel like every inch of his skin is buzzing. Maybe it also has his scalp lighting up with pinpricks of heat, all centered around where Terry still has a hand fisted in his hair. And maybe the hand on his hip wouldn't feel like a heavy brand if it wasn't for the drinks in his system.

But Louie tries not to make a habit of lying to himself, so all he does is moan and use all his strength to pull Terry off his stool, but Terry comes way too willingly and the upshot of it is that Louie ends up flat on his back with one of Terry's huge thighs pressed right up against his clothed dick, the way the rest of Terry is plastered all over him.

He doesn't really mind it, is the thing; as long as he gets to kiss him and get both their rocks off, Louie's calling this a win.

That doesn't mean he's going to complain when Terry flips them so that Louie is straddling him. If anything, he's going to thank him for giving Louie leverage to rut against him even more fiercely.

He'd feel bad for being a selfish lover or whatever, but Terry's clearly into it, getting two hands on Louie's hips and bucking up and Jeeeeezus Christ. Either Louie's drunker than he thought or Terry is an incredible grower.

He doesn't have time to contemplate it though, because in the next second there's hands on his ass dragging him forward, until he's seated right below those wonderful tits. He's pleased to see the dark bruises on them, hopes Terry decides to wear his billowy, extremely low cut shirts this week instead of his buttoned up suits. The thought has him tightening his thighs as he squirms, only to discover he can't quite manage it because it turns out straddling a torso this broad really spreads out your legs. It's a little uncomfortable, and Louie a lot likes it.

A hand smacks his ass softly, and he lets out a yelp of surprise before he shifts his focus from Terry's chest to his face. A quip is on the tip of his tongue - you into that shit, man? should've known - but the look on Terry's face stops him. It's his least favorite Terry look: slightly annoyed and very condescending, like Louie's some airhead so why had Terry expected him to understand something as simple as 2+2. And ok, maybe sometimes it's deserved, but it sometimes isn't, and this time it's definitely the latter.

Louie frowns at him, and Terry just lets out this gusty sigh like my life is so hard, why do I put up with this? But he reaches up and starts unzipping Louie's pants, reaches into his boxers, and takes his dick out, thumb swiping through the liquid already coating it. Somehow, he manages to do it with a perfunctory air, like he just might as well but he doesn't really care. It kind of works for Louie, if he's being honest.

Terry strokes him a few times and then lets go. Louie opens his mouth to protest, but then Terry squeezes his tits together and says, cool as anything, "Well? Are you going to fuck them or not?"

Louie's pretty sure he blacks out for a second. His thighs try to clench again and the reminder that he can't is nearly enough to push him over the edge. But Louie is good at sex, he has great stamina and everything. So he holds it back, takes a deep breath, and then pushes himself up and leans forward, supporting his weight with one hand by Terry's head.

Taking his dick in hand gives him a measure of relief, though it's nothing compared to when he starts slowly sliding it into the valley that Terry has created for him. He moans, earning a laugh, and he looks up at Terry's face. But Terry's not looking at him; he seems transfixed by the sight of Louie's cock nestled between his tits, sliding in and out and leaving behind trails of precum. He licks his teeth in that predatory way he does, and all the breath leaves Louie's lungs at once. A part of him is almost angry by how hot Terry looks like this, but the louder, bigger part of him says to use that irritation to really let Terry have it. He listens.

For a few glorious minutes, Louie's entire world shrinks down to fucking the tits he's been fixated on ever since he met Terry. His fingers grip the carpet on either side of Terry's head, and his legs ache with the exertion of being spread for so long. He knows he's going to end up with a wicked burn on his knees, but he's incapable of giving a shit. How could he, when Terry keeps squeezing his tits even further together and then loosening the grip, over and over until Louie kind of wants to cry at the tease of it? When Terry has his head thrown back, his silver ponytail in disarray and his smiling mouth panting with aborted moans and half finished laughter? When his long throat is bared, perfect for Louie to bend down and bite at if only he could get himself together enough to multitask?

He gives up on the pipe dream of being able to do two things at once, and settles for rutting faster. That's when the nonsense starts falling out of his mouth - he can't really focus enough to keep quiet.

"Terry, Terry, Jesus baby you're so fucking hot, letting me fuck you up like this, God I love your tits, never gonna be able to stop thinking about them, you'll let me do this every day won't you? In a bed next time, I'll even suck your dick after, I swear."

Terry lets out another moan that trips over a laugh. Louie grins.

"You like that, huh? Want me to come all over you too? Not just on your tits, but your thighs and your legs and your ass, your face and in your mouth, your hole and all over your di-"

"Louie."

The bored but amused tone has Louie gasping, and he barely manages to pant out, "Yeah?"

Terry bares his teeth at him in a facsimile of a smile. "Shut. Up."

Embarrassingly, that's what makes Louie come. He cries out, still fucking frantically so that the streaks of cum become one big shiny puddle of a mess. Terry chooses that moment to let go of his tits completely, leaving Louie's dick even more free space to make a mess of, and then to top it off he places his hands on Louie's thighs, gripping lightly. This apparently is enough of a turn on that Louie's dick twitches and spurts out a few more lines of cum, and the end result is that Terry ends up with the whole middle of his chest and a little bit of his collarbones sticky and wet.

Louie's kind of proud of himself. It's almost enough to chase the embarrassment away.

It quickly comes back though, after he makes some kind of - choking turkey noise or something in response to Terry nonchalantly saying, "Your mouth is still on offer, I assume."

Still, humiliating noises aside, Louie did imply he'd be happy to suck Terry's dick in exchange for fucking his tits, and Louie LaRusso doesn't go back on his word.

He nods. Terry gives him that bared-teeth-barely-a-smile grin again, and smacks Louie's thigh, an unspoken get up. He scrambles up, Terry following much more gracefully, and then he takes Louie's hand and says, "I think you'll like the hot tub."

And hey, Louie's never sucked a dick before, much less underwater, but it's Terry, his new very best, very loyal friend.

It's not like the guy is going to let Louie get hurt or anything.

Louie knows its an Italian stereotype, but he's secretly always wished his family had connections to the Mob.

The way he sees it, the Mob has it right: teach anyone who crosses you a lesson, respect is earned not given, and family always comes first.

So it's not a bad thing to try to live by those principles in your own life, even if you're just some punk from Newark, New Jersey. And he had figured that Daniel felt the same, given how many scrapes the little rascal had gotten in and out of for basically his whole life. Maybe Daniel never looked for a fight, but he was always standing up for the little guy, for honor or whatever.

But it turned out Daniel had changed, or maybe Louie hadn't known him as well as he thought he did, because he got all huffy and displeased - the dick had actually said the word "displeased," what an asswipe - when he found out what Louie had done to that blond asshole's ride. Like, come on. The least he could do was say thank you. Or was Daniel suddenly the only one who could kick the guy's ass? Louie could understand that, but that didn't mean you were an ungrateful brat when family did something for you.

All that is to say that sometimes it's family who crosses you, family that needs to be taught a lesson in respect and gratitude.

So when the really tall weird dude with slick hair and crazy eyes rocks up to Louie and tells him he has a bone to pick with the Lawrence guy and another one with Daniel, Louie is all ears. Well - not at first. At first, Louie is suspicious, but the guy is really nice, really friendly, buys Louie a few drinks and is an excellent wingman. Those kinds of stand up guys don't exist much anymore; Louie will be damned if he lets this new best friend go.

Especially when said new best friend speaks Louie's language - what's a little vandalism and arson and a few threatening gestures in the name of putting the fear of God into some people? Some people need it. Some other people need the reminder that family is loyal but you gotta give some of that loyalty back.

It's not like Louie or his new friend are actually going to hurt anyone.

Besides. The new boss man/accomplice has some pretty nice gams and a rack that's impressive for a guy. Like the Mob Boss and his pretty little plaything all rolled into one. Louie's not gay or anything but well - he wouldn't mind keeping that close a little while longer. Just to see if anything comes of it.

#sad to say there will be future installments because she also mentioned terry taking louie to the steam room #which gave me the idea for hot tub sex. so many places for these guys to fuck in #are you happy now cait? now that you have the 'filthy rest of it'?#terry/louie #crites (cris writes)

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