#he looks like a tired father

[drbandy]

karnak havig his last life crisis and virgil is uh.. idk what happened with virgil i swear he had star glasses and when i finally looked up referenced he didn't and i was so confused also i was gonna give him the blond wig but he get the very shork mohawk he was sporting in off broadway

[lemongogo]

anyways . silly thing

[book-lover85]

Stay at home dad and artist on commission Keefe

[dawnofiight]

Now Presenting: Sophia Rhone

[moeblob]

They're soulmates in every single universe and I miss them at the most random times.

[herbertpocketsfidgettoys]

Ok I might be stupid but I’ve been wondering about this for a few years now but like Gregory is 8 years old but says he went to yardale (basically a parody of Yale university + harvard) is he really that smart or does he want attention

This could just mean in the sp universe yardale is just a very fancy elementary school that only wants smart kids or something

[xivdl]

nothing to see here, I'm just coping

[spotaus]

Random fun post :) ((New Age))

So, I think that a thing with me is that I mention Dream is afraid of storms, I have a fear of storms, and then I procceeded not to elaborate. So I am going to type out a drabble on here with no editing and see how far I get before my roommate gets back or I get sick of it. (Honestly this is just an exercise in seeing how I plan these thangs out-)

-> Dream and Blue have established themselves in the old cottage, but are just settling in, so their group and supporters have yet to establish the camp around the clearing. For the time being, it's just Dream and Blue working out plans and deciding what their next move should be. (Notes: The cabin has two twin-sized beds. They dont stay seperate for long.)

It'd been a good week so far. Dream was glad to see the cottage when they'd first arrived, and Blue had been a deft hand at clearing out any critters, patching holes in the roof and slats between the logs of the wall, and seeing what furniture inside was still salvagable. His father's friend was a carpenter, he claimed. He'd taken an apprenticeship with them as a child and learned a thing or two. Dream had largely watched in awe, or disppeared outside to to some cleaning of the large garden space. Their first week out, Blue had taught him how to uproot plants, and since everything in the garden planted by its old owners was long dead, Dream decided he'd do some fixing up of it while Blue did repairs.

Their tings were stached safely inside the building in the bedroom, the first room they secured and repaired. It had a pair of beds inside which reminded Dream vaguely of his childhood room he shared with his twin, only now fallen into disrepair. They'd had to discard the old blankets, torn to shreds by various wild guests, but they weren't so far away from town that they couldn't get replacements and new sets of quilts to lay beneath them for comfort.

Dream got the bed closer to the door, if only because Blue admantly believed the ground-floor window to be more of a threat, even though at night they would close the heavy wooden shutters left over from the last owner, blocking views of the outside. Right now, his supplies, changes of clothes, and everything else sat safe in a trunk they'd found and emptied, only his bow laid out on his bed in an easy-to-grab location. Meanwhile Blue had his supplies tucked underneath the other bed, his spare armor and bedroll hiding in the dark. it felt good to share a room with someone again. Even if Blue's breathing was much louder and erratic than Night's used to be.

Right now, Dream sat at the edge of the stream which ran through the property. Another thing Blue had taught him to do was wash things. Clothes, weapons, blankets. Currently he was washing off the old, rusty trowel he'd found half-buried in the yard. The rust was stubborn, but Dream swore the more he scrubbed, circles as he'd been taught, that it seemed to give way. And, honestly, he was so enamored by the gross, reddish, bloody color which occassionally chipped away and seeped onto his fingertips, he hadn't noticed the sky growing dark, nor the wind picking up.

Only when raindrops finally graced his skull did he think to look up at the sky above him. Cloudy. Grey. Twisting.

His stomach did an impossible flip at the sight, and he found himself dropping the trowel there on the grassy bed beside the stream, before high-tailing it across the lawn and back to where the cottage stood. He'd have been ashamed for fleeing so quickly, but when his boot collided with the little porch outfront and his hand connected with the handle, the sky split with a crack of lightning. It lit the rain-speckled stone beneath his feet and momentarily cast his shadow tall on the door before him. His soul seized as he tugged open the door and shut it behind him, just before the entire structure shook with a loud crash of thunder.

The storms in the kingdom had been horrible, he wasn't sure what caused it, but he had to imagine nature itself was troubled by his twin's corrupted rule. By the imbalance. That's what he told himself, at least. Why else would his hands be trembling against the doorknob like a newborn fown's spindly legs? Why else would he be holding the door shut, as though that would somehow keep the storm from flooding his soul with terror?

It felt like ages as he stood there, stiffly. Too afraid to back away from the door, and too startled by each shaking rumble of the sky from outside. Through the glass he could hear the shrill whistle of the rain whipping violently between the trees.

He refused to look out the windows, lest-

"Dream?" that voice, familiar, snapped him out of his trance, for just a moment. Long enough to snap his hands to his chest, like the knob had been boiling hit under his palms, "Are you alright? What's wrong?"

His knight rushed into his view as he stood there, still feeling stunned by a bolt of lightning which hadn't even hit him. Blue's eyelights were wide and bright, big orbs of mana sitting proudly in his skull, examining Dream's face, then his arms, then his chest, his legs, no doubt scanning for an injury. Dream didn't answer his question, and Blue settled on an answer himself when his eyelights settled back to look at Dream's trembling hands.

"The storm, right." Blue supplied to himself, before his expression moved from worried into something brighter. Dream could taste nothing but fondness rolling from Blue as he extended his own gloved hands and pulled Dream's away from where they clutched at his tunic. He held them out in the air between the two of them, his hands were strong, "Have no fear! The Magnificent Blue apologizes for being tardy, but now he is here, and reayd to rpotect you from any big bad storm!"

Dream saw the determined, silly grin on his face, and let himself smile just a bit. Nodding along to Blue's declaration. Blue always made him feel better.

Though, the storm was equally good at unsettling him. Just as Blue seemed to believe he'd won, there was another bright flash of lightning and an immediate rumble which made Dream flinch before he could control himself. Staring at the space where Blue held his hands like a life-line. The thunder was too loud, the rain pounded the windows now, and the wind still whistled, high and insistant.

"Hmm, it's a heavy one. Let's go get comfy, wait it out! How does that sound?" Blue glanced at the windows, before making his suggestion. He waited for Dream to nod along in vehement agreement before Blue walked backwards to lead him into the branch-off room from the main entrance.

The room they'd just been in was larger, with a space to cook, couches and chairs, and old rickety bookshelves devoid of any decor. it was a large space they planned on filling with life by the time they were done here. The room they entered, moving past a single door, was that room with the two beds, the big desk, Dream's trunk, and some old rugs that were still good enough to use. it was smaller, and cozy, in comparison. It also helped that the one window to the outside had already been shuttered, never opened from the night before.

Blue guided him inside, ignoring the shaking of another bought of thunder, before gently shoving Dream to sit on his bed. He managed to slip his hands out of Dream's grip, just long enough to pull the Prince's blanket up and around his shoulders, and excuse himself for just a second.

Dream was distressed to let Blue leave his arm's length for even a moment, but found he was much more intrigued when Blue rushed over to his cot and... with little effort, he shoved his bed over, leaving the objects which had been neatly stacked beneath discarded on the gorund. The wood of his frame clattered against the edge of Dream's, and he watched in befuddlement as Blue shifted around his own sheets. Then he tugged his blanket off his cot and pulled it over himself and his dirty day-clothes with a grin.

"There we go!" He announced, clearly unaware, or ignoring, Dream's confused face. "We're not on the bedrolls anymore, so I figure this will just be easier to allow you you to feel secure without worrying about our comfort. Proximity is key!" Blue was an angle.

Dream actually smiled at that, unable to focus on the next rumble of thunder as he pulled himself onto the center of his bed, and then closer to where Blue had planted himself upright towards the center. It was a lot like their first night Dream had seen the storms. Blue had let Dream curl around him like some frightened snake, unbothered by the proximity, claiming it was just his duty. A friend helping a friend. A knight helping his prince. Dream had been mortified after, but Blue truly only felt pride at being able to watch over Dream in a moment of weakness. Dream appreciated him, and tried to channel a burst os positive aura as he settle in to lay against Blue's side.

The knight just pulled the blanket up tighter around Dream's shoulders and reassured him that he wouldn't move an inch, and that his patch-work was wonderful. Unrivaled. No water would get in.

[soupmanspeaks]

you ever wonder if the Glamrocks's face tracking acts up when they look at Glamrock-Freddy, like they'll look at his face, and the recognition will register as Freddy, but their systems for whatever reason or another think that there is a face overlapped on Freddy's do you think they see two small squares next to him, at his side, roughly child sized, but no one is physically there.... right...?

[borgialucrezia]

"There are moments where [Juan] manipulates other people in a similar the way they’ve been manipulating him. The scene between Jeremy and myself with the dagger is a last ditch frantic attempt at trying to win [Rodrigo] over." Do you think Juan was genuine in the knife scene? Do you think he would have killed himself? "Yeah I think so. He always does what is true inside him...It wasn’t simply about the eventual confrontation, but all about the richness of this twisted family make-up."

[worshipfulmercy]

i have so many thoughts about his gender and how he's kind of textually a woman and/or abinary (read tags if interested)

[ilovebeatingmywife]

why cant my dad just do things for himself once and awhile im so tired of this

[simpyclown]

MEGUMI'S DAD CAN BE MY DADDY TOO

Toji.

Summary: toji comes home from a mission to see Megumi’s little friend on his house, holding a knife to his private parts.

wc.  3.741

warnings on the tags!

You always liked older men better than the ones your age. Even when you were a little girl and had a crush on your mother's cousin, the closest thing you had to an uncle, — even if he wasn't really related to you by blood. 

When you got to Jujutsu High you were basically in heaven, with all the old bastards roaming there. Nanami was the perfect daddy to ever dad, even if he never stayed long enough so you could try to strike up a conversation with him. 

Sighing, you kick a rock in the middle of the pavement, walking right beside Nobara and Megumi while Yuuji is the only one actually holding the older man's attention. 

You dressed as good as you could today, just because you heard Nanami was going to supervise your mission, and now he doesn't even look at you. 

“Hey” you whisper to Nobara, dragging her attention from her phone to you “my skirt isn’t that short, is it?” Is Nanami not looking at you just because you wore your skirt too short? Nah, that can't be right. 

Nobara pauses to check your backside and then chuckles. 

“Girl, you're almost showing your panties.”

You frown, looking down. We'll, yeah, you wore a miniskirt, but you're also wearing a dark pantyhose, so you can't be really showing anything. 

“Be serious!” You whine, shoving Nobara when you notice she's joking with you. “Nanami didn't even look at me!”

You can see from the side of your vision Megumi rolling her eyes, and Nobara just laughs loudly, putting an arm around your shoulders. 

“Babe, he won't look at a middle schooler, he's not an old perv.”

Nobara is probably right, he won't look at you even if you strip down to your lingerie, not while you're still under his supervision and his alumni. Fuck. 

“The good side is that I won't stay underage for much longer” you say, giving her a little smile “and when I get older, I will jump his bones so hard he won't even know what hit him.”

Nobara's laugh was so loud you couldn't hear Yuuji asking Nanami why he was so red in the face suddenly. 

*** 

The curse you had to exorcise was a nasty thing. Nothing really dangerous, just too difficult to get rid of, more like a fungus than a real curse. 

After all the hard work and tiredness, Nanami sent you all home to sleep and relax the day after, but you, being the older and wiser, suggested to your friends to have a drink. 

Normally you guys would just buy some sake and drink it in your dorms, but as you proposed, Megumi has a mean smile on her face.

“Let's go to my house,” he said, turning around and making all of you follow him “Father is not home this weekend, and he has a stack of alcohol he would hate if someone tampered with it.”

“You're so mean with Toji-san” Yuuji defends “he's cool!”

You don't know the man, you hear the name often and Megumi for all he curses his father, apparently has a good relationship with him, but you never really met the man. Maybe I heard his voice when Megumi called him sometimes. 

The only thing you know about Megumi's father is that he left him and his mother alone and disappeared on the face of the earth, returning just a few years back claiming he didn't know Mrs. Fushiguro was dead. 

“He pissed me off yesterday.” It's all Megumi says, shrugging, and you can't really complain about free food and alcohol. 

“Let's get wasted then!” You proclaim, taking Megumi’s arm and walking off. Nobara follows you two, while shaking her head and laughing at Yuuji's pout. 

*** 

You scoff at yourself while you try to reach the fucking cabinets on your friends house. All of them were already sleeping, dropping dead after three or four shots.

“Damn lightweights.” You curse, searching for some painkillers to give to them when they wake up. Knowing Nobara she will complain the instant she opens her eyes, and you will actually murder her if she wakes you up. 

You stop in your tracks when you hear the click of the door closing shut. You're pretty sure the person doing it didn't mean for you to hear anything, if the complete silence after that is something to go by. 

Any other person wouldn't hear it, not with the stuffing and searching around, but you're too attentive to your surroundings to not hear it. 

Cursing silently, you reach for the knife holder, picking up the biggest one there. Being pretty sure Megumi mentioned his father wouldn't be home for more four days and wondering who could have the keys to his house, or be bold enough to trespass, you walk slowly to the living room, wearing socks, your footsteps are muffled on the floor, but it doesn't mean you can't be cautious. 

Pointing the knife opposite to your body and squinting your eyes on the muffled lights, you finally reach the corner, you hide against it, looking carefully to see who it is. 

The shadow is too fast to evade, but you're fast enough to point the knife in a point sufficiently squishy to make the intruder pause. 

In a matter of seconds, a big hand is holding you by the throat against the cold wall. The force used to shove you against the cold wall is enough to steal your breath away. How the fuck could this person be so fast, when so big? You struggle against the hold, and while you couldn’t point the knife to this mysterious person's throat, you at least achieve to have it against his femoral artery. 

“Look at what we have here” the man murmurs, looking you up and down “I doubt a little thing like you would try to enter my house just to steal my clothes. Used ones, if I can see right in this light.”

You practically freeze at what the man says, because it starts to make too much sense in him being Mr. Fushiguro, even if he shouldn't be here until at least Thursday. 

Frowning, you look at his face attentively. The man is tall, almost a head taller than you, and his big hand doesn't allow you too much movement, but you can see the black hair and green eyes so fucking close to Megumi's tone to this man not be his dad. 

You lick your lips. Fuck, you hope he's an intruder, because this is too embarrassing. 

“Mr. Fushiguro?” Your voice doesn't tremble, but you're praying to whatever god exists that this man isn't actually Megumi's father.

The behemoth tilts his head, hair waving out of the way sufficiently to his piercing green eyes to look you up and down slowly, analyzing you very carefully. 

“That's me doll,” he hums, corners of his lips arching. “But who could you be?”

You let your head fall against the wall, big hand still holding your throat, but not pressing it more than necessary to make a threat, not damage. Closing your eyes in embarrassment, you muster courage to explain it to him. 

“I am Megumi's friend,” you say, opening an eye just to see the older man's reaction. “We ended a mission a few hours ago and decided to relax a little here.”

Licking your lips, you notice his hand loosening a little, not sufficiently for you to try to get out of your hold, just not to bruise. 

The man then flicks the lights, making your eyes sting with the clarity, while he looks you up and down again. 

“Heh,” he scoffs, letting you go and taking a step back “I can see that.”

It's with his tone that you remember the clothes you're wearing. Just a big white shirt Megumi had given you and socks to maintain your feet warm. Your hair is free, probably not really well-kept, pupils dilated from the drinks and sweat clinging to your skin because of the scare you had just now. 

You probably make a sight, just not for the reasons he assumes. You shake your head, eyes widening. 

“No, no. We were just having some drinks” You say, pointing to Megumi's bedroom “but they're already sleeping. I was actually searching for some painkillers for tomorrow, or they will be pouting and making noises very early, and I'll have to murder them because of it.”

You babble, first because you're embarrassed, second because you don't want him thinking you're Megumi's girlfriend or something, and third because Mr. Fushiguro is a sight.

Big broad shoulders, arms bulging when he crosses them in front of his large chest while he waits for you to finish. He has a mean looking smirk displayed on his mouth, a little scar in the corner of his lips making your cheeks warm. You usually don't blush, you're the one who likes to make others blush. 

You start to fiddle with the knife, eyes roaming through the sheer image the man makes using that compression shirt and fucking sweatpants. 

No one should be this hot using just those pieces of cloth. 

“Drinking?” He arches an eyebrow, amused. “Aren’t you too young to do that?”

You can't help but bark a laugh, rounding him to put the knife back in its place. 

“If I am old enough to kill those things, a few shots won't be too bad” You say, shrugging.

***

Toji looks at your back while you kneel to look at the bottom half of the cabinet. He's pretty sure the shirt you're using as a dress is his, and it's so big on you, it keeps dropping off and showing that soft smooth skin of your shoulder. 

He doesn't know what he did to piss Megumi again for him to try to drain his stack of whiskey again, but it probably is not bad enough if his son brings a little pretty thing like you to him, tempting him like that. 

When you bend down to reach the back of the cabinet, he almost chokes on the water he was sipping, killing time to ‘monitor’ you while you roam his things. Toji is pretty sure the slip thing of cloth you're using to cover your pussy can't be called a pantie. Not with how those soft and succulent lips are spillin’ out of it like that. 

“I think I may have put a bottle in the back” he grunts, voice starting to get rough. Toji couldn't help himself leaning his forearms on the counter, eyes glued to your pert butt and pretty pussy showing with the way his shirt is sliding up more and more while you stretch yourself to search. 

Toji is so distracted, he almost doesn't see you looking above your shoulder to see his reaction. When he finally feels your eyes on his face he looks up fast, eyes snapping to yours. You’re sporting a little smirk, smug expression as if you scored something.

He sees you licking your lips, back arching a little more, disclosing more skin than necessary with the stretch you do.

“Here?” You ask, hands invisible inside the cabinet, but he is pretty sure you're not searching anything anymore, not with the way your eyes shine with mischief. 

“It's a little packed up” Toji murmurs, mouth watering with the sight you make “I think you will have to search a little more.”

You nod, and shuffle more. Your head is already inside the cabinet while the rest of your body shakes with your movements. 

You bend your body sufficiently to the shirt you're wearing to pour around your waist, exposing your smooth bubble butt to him, and Toji can't help but chuckle. 

“Such a little bitch” he murmurs, rounding the counter to step behind you, eyes glued to the little thing you probably would call lingerie “showing yourself so shamelessly.”

You smirk to yourself, picking up the bottle just right when he grows tired of your teasing and bends down to touch you.

“Ah!” You exclaim, straightening your back and pulling the shirt you're wearing down. “Found it.” You hold on to his hand and use it to raise yourself to your feet, coming almost close to his chest. “Thank you for your help, Mr. Fushiguro.”

Toji smirk just widened at your attitude, the hand you were holding firmly securing yours, pulling your body to his until your chest pressed against his. 

He occupies his other hand, picking up the bottle from you and putting it on the counter. Then it snakes slyly to your back, grabbing your butt with a firm hold, his hand practically molding to your flesh.

“What do you think you're doing?” he chuckles, making your body heat up with the way it rumbles on his chest. “Teasing me, little minx.”

You shiver a little with the way he lets go of your ass just to put his big calloused hand on your thigh and raise the hem off your shirt, his shirt. Making goosebumps rise with the firm touch. 

You can't help how your body aches to be pressed against him, how your legs press against each other. Because this man is all your wet dreams pressed into a whole big and delicious package. A delicious, probably very tasty package who is actually the father of one of your best friends. 

Your breath hitch at the thought, and you feel your eyes widening. God, what are you doing? This man is Megumi's father. Cursing under your breath, you hold his wrist, the one attached at the wandering hand. 

“Mr. Fushiguro,” you murmur, looking up at the devilish grin he has, “You're Megumi's father.”

You say it more to remember it yourself than to reproach him, because while it can grate on your thoughts, is not something you're worrying about very much right now. Not with his big hands on your body and the smell of pure man on your nose. 

You don't know the cologne he uses, but fuck if it is not taunting you to just stick your nose on his neck and lick his skin. 

Mr. Fushiguro actually laughs at what you say, something deep and so sexy, his hand descending again to the curve of your leg, raising it up sufficiently to wrap it around his waist, and you almost melt at the attitude. 

He's too domineering, his actions are so fucking demanding you want to bend and expose yourself to him. Again. 

“Don't play coy with me right now, kitten.” he rumbles, hand patting your leg like he's saying ‘stay right here’. “Not when you were asking me to pound you just seconds ago.”

He grinds against you, hips buckling just a little, just sufficiently to show you what he felt with your teasing. You can't help but make a little noise on your throat, because he would feel so damn good inside you, you're sure. He feels so big, so damn large you have half a mind to drop on your knees and worship it right there. 

“I didn't ask you anything other than to show me the painkillers.” You argue, because you can be half drunk on alcohol and half drunk with pure lust, but your brain-mouth filter is still not functioning as it should. 

“No?” he asks, hands moving to both your arms, pulling them around his neck “and what exactly were you doing when you arched your spine like a whore, showing me your excuse of panties?”

You rest your forehead on his chest when his hands continue roaming until they reach your ass. He grabs it like he was craving, like he wanted to make you his personal ball of stress relief. His hard cock resting just against your belly, layers of clothes just preventing you from really feeling it against your skin. 

“It's not my fault you were looking at something you shouldn't.”

You hear the harsh slap before you can even feel it, the burning sensation catching you up just when you feel him caressing it right after. Your body reaction is almost instant, breath hitching and pussy clenching around nothing. 

“I now can understand why Megumi has been so mouthy recently” the man murmurs, nose caressing your cheek while you try to not rut your aching pussy against him. Every fucking action Fushiguro Toji takes goes directly to your pussy, making you react almost viscerally. “With a brat like you for a friend, how could he not?”

“I am just tellin’ the truth” you retort, your voice more breathy than anticipated “if I am a brat, then you're an old perv.”

The smack this time is hard enough to echo in the entire place, almost as loudly as your moan when he does that. Your muscles tighten around him, pulling him close, so you could hide your face on his chest when your hips start to rut against his. 

He chuckles something mean, while he holds you by the nape and pulls you off his chest just to see your expression, your reddened cheeks and glossy eyes. Even with this treatment you can't stop moving your hips, pussy dragging against his thigh, covered only with the tiny lacy panties you were wearing. 

The cloth drags against your very sensitive clit, and you always were a greedy girl, you need more and more, even when you can’t help but argue with him. 

“This smart little mouth” he grunts, thumb caressing your bottom lip so softly it almost drags a moan from you, and you can see the way his eyes are shining with something dangerous. “I should put it to good use, so you would stop being such a fucking brat.”

That earns him a little giggle, lips spreading in a little crooked smile even if his hand is holding your face, pressing your cheeks and making you look a little too young. 

You continue rolling your hips against him, because you can't stop yourself, but also he is still hardening, and you can't stop thinking how the fuck this is even possible. He's big, no, actually he is enormous. 

Maybe it's the size difference, or it could be the rough treatment, maybe even the way his eyes look at you like you were his prey, but it has a jolt of pure lust cursing through your body to pool down between your legs, pussy so wet you can almost feel it dripping down your legs. 

You smirk at him, hand trailing down to touch your drenched pussy. You're so, so wet right now, juices making your lacy panties cling to your lower lips, almost uncomfortable. 

With one finger you trace your clit, desperately biting your bottom lip, so your traitorous mouth wouldn't let any sounds while you hold Mr. Fushiguro's gaze.

You feel him tensing against you, hips rolling against your belly and if you would look down, you would see the wet spot his wiping cock is leaving on his sweatpants. 

“I think you like my mouth,” you say, humming when he sticks the thumb that was caressing your lip on your mouth, now caressing your tongue with the pad of his finger. 

His skin tastes salty, and you can't help but suckle on it as if it were the head of his cock, closing your eyes just with the thought of licking it. 

You're so wet your own fingers on your pussy are making the sluttiest noises, the little wet sounds resonating with your sweet whimpers and his fast breathing. 

“Greedy little slut” he hisses, hands descending to grab your ass so hard it probably will leave marks. He spreads you open, and it just makes you even wetter, pussy clenching, crying with loneliness “I'll feed this hungry cunt with my seed until it can't take it anymore” he growls, and you can't help yourself, you stick two of your fingers on yourself, pussy clenching around your fingers, but it's not enough, it's not the giant cock pressed against your belly. 

Toji eyes are focused on your face, on the way your mouth is open and letting out little whimpers just for him to hear, he can hear clearly your desperate fingers trying to reach on your sweet spot, wide eyes begging him to just bend you over the counter and fuck you like an animal.

And then you both hear a little sound coming from the second floor, and your eyes widen, blush deepening to your neck and running down, down, down, until it's covered by the shirt you're wearing. 

Toji wants to see where it goes. Unfortunately, you let go of him faster than he is capable, hands still holding and massaging your ass, but when he hears Megumi's steps descending the stairs he can't help but huff in frustration, letting you go slowly, but not before he pinches the side of your hip, probably leaving a bruise there.

He smirks at your frown, if it weren't Megumi he wouldn't even care about someone watching, but the brat is already mad for some reason, if he sees Toji fucking one of his friends he will probably flip. 

Still, he looks at your bitten lips, the way your hair is even more unkempt than when he got home, and then, he looks at your glistening fingers, drenched in your juices, and he chuckles, picking your hand up and shoving them in his mouth. 

“Fuuuck” he groans around your little digits, “You're so fucking sweet, kitten.” he whispers, tongue rolling around between your fingers, licking every little drop.

He bets your thighs are just or even more drenched in juice and his cock throbs at the thought. Toji wants to be inside you so fucking bad. 

Megumi calls your name, letters rolling out of his mouth awkwardly, and Toji notices he's probably still drunk. You seem to notice it too and faster than Toji could even stop, your fingers are out of his mouth, and you're on your knees, in front of him, face just inches of his cock right when Megumi rounds down the corner of the door. 

You put your little index finger in front of your lips, the universal signal for him to keep quiet, and he can't help, he shakes his head in amusement at the same time his abdomen clenches with pure desire. 

The cheek of this woman, he thinks to himself. How could Megumi bring to him someone just the way he likes? 

[bayofwolves]

finding out from reddit that tremily isn't canon in amulet book 9 has got to be my last straw

[syrenki]

my family was just robbed of two thousands and my grandmother was denied a permanent residence card despite her daughter and grandchildren having lived here for 20 years and despite her being 80, so she can only spend a total of 90 days here in the next 5 years, and we can't visit her because we'll be arrested as soon as we cross the border, all this together meaning she will probably die alone there. and how are the rest of you all doing

[starlooove]

‘Au Damian steals his siblings bc Damian doesn’t value them enough’ Damian doesn’t owe these niggas shit