#he maybe takes a picture and saves it to his

[winchestergirl2]

Dean

First, I just have to say I love your choice of gif for Dean!

Dean isn't one to get jealous...at first.

I absolutely see this!

You still stare at Dean incredulously. When the woman walks away, he smiles at you as if nothing happened. Sam wisely keeps to himself and sips his beer, hiding a smirk.

Oh Dean 😆 in trouble, and he doesn't even realise it yet... although Sam does!

"Gonna forgive me?" Dean asks, his lips moving against your skin. "Though I gotta admit, I kinda like it when you're jealous. All growly and fiesty. Got myself a little tiger."

Oh, you'll forgive him, but maybe you'll make him do a little more penance when you all get back home.

I like the way she thinks

Beau

His lips purse, his jaw clicks, and he keeps a firm eye on the situation. He doesn't like it.

Perfectly captured Beau here.

However, like Dean, the moment someone gets into your personal space or tries to touch you, he's pulling out some Sheriff moves.

I can absolutely see him observing to begin with, but stepping in the moment, he thinks they've overstepped the mark.

Oh wow, the audacity of that woman!! Wiping the chocolate away like that!

I could 100% picture Beau and his reaction to all of this!

"I mean it. Won't happen again," he promises. His hands mold to the curve of your waist and squeeze gently. His lips move, burning a sweet path along your jawline, your chin, over the apple of your cheeks, and finally your lips. You breathe into it, and you can't help but cling to the front of his buttoned-down shirt.

I would absolutely forgive him and melt with him doing this!

Beau smiles against your lips. "Don't you worry, darlin'. From now on, I'll tell her that I've got some good cookie at home."

Absolutely 😉

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Those men flirting with her really are dicing with death. Good job she has worked out how to cut it off before Ben gets involved. She's really out there saving lives, and they probably don't even realise it.

But when other women flirt with Ben, he takes it all with indulgent smiles, throwing in a wink and a sweetheart every now and then.

Haha, of course he does!

Ben doesn't bother with saying anything more to convince you. He just slips a hand behind your neck and kisses you soundly.

So Ben, like. Doesn't bother with apologising like the others just goes straight in there.

Russell Shaw

Russell always clocks the "situation" right away when a man starts to flirt with you.

100%

But he is quick to sidle up to your side, pointedly slip a hand along your waist, and greet you with a deceptive smile.

I am a suckered for a man doing this. A subtle way to let the other guy know.

"I'm gonna need you to listen to me, and listen good," he says. You frown at that, but he brushes his thumb across your cheek, a small, but tender caress. "You and me, we've got something good. I know what that means. So you can believe me when I say, I'm in this. I'm right here, even when I'm not here."

Headcanon: Flirting (And Jealousy)

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader, Beau Arlen x Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader, Russell Shaw x Reader

AN: This one was requested by one of my lovely Patreon members, @lacilou. And surprise! For the first time, I'm trying out adding Russell Shaw to the lineup because I thought he'd be an interesting addition for this prompt. 💜

Prompt: How would Dean, Ben & Beau react to either other men flirting with us or them obliviously/cluelessly letting other women flirt with them? And how we would react to them -- like how they'd make it up to us, their excuses, etc.

HC: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), and Russell Shaw would react to someone flirting with you. (And others flirting with them.)

Tags/Warnings: Established relationship, oblivious flirting, unwanted advances, jealousy, some toxic masculinity (you know Ben 🙄), but ultimately lots of fluff, and some spice too.~

Dean Winchester

Dean isn't one to get jealous...at first.

He knows you're hot as hell. He pretty much expects guys to try and shoot their shot.

Plus, he's secure enough in his relationship with you to know you wouldn't consciously entertain someone who's flirting with you.

He also knows you're strong enough to take care of yourself, even with a persistent asshole.

However.

The second a man gets into your face or tries to put his hands on you, Dean's stepping in -- either to twist the man's arm nearly out of its socket, or deliver a swift punch between the eyes, or his personal favorite, grabbing the back of the guy's neck and slamming his face onto the counter.

Dean finds the sound of bone breaking against varnished wood, followed closely by the heavy tripping thud of a body to the floor, deeply satisfying.

You heave a sigh. Not because you're all that annoyed at Dean, but because you tried to warn the guy.

Now, Dean knows he used to be...well, a "ladies man," putting it mildly. He's improvised more panty-dropping one-liners than a Magic Mike stripper. His success rate is 9-and-10 (because there's always room for improvement).

He directs all that flirtatious, playful, sexual energy on you. He's fallen for you, committed to you, and once he makes a decision with his heart, Dean Winchester doesn't have an unfaithful bone in his body.

However.

He can't altogether stop women from flirting with him. Like at one of the many diners you, Sam, and Dean stop to eat at after a hunt.

"Let me know if you need anything else, okay?" the waitress says. She brushes her hand up his arm and squeezes his shoulder, giving Dean a too-bright smile that leaves nothing to the imagination (at least to you).

He smiles back at her. "Thanks, sweetheart."

It's like a reflex. He thinks he's being polite. He doesn't even follow the path of her hip-swaying walk with his eyes -- like he certainly would've before he met you.

You still stare at Dean incredulously. When the woman walks away, he smiles at you as if nothing happened. Sam wisely keeps to himself and sips his beer, hiding a smirk.

Dean notices the way your lips are pursed, bitchface activated. "What?" he asks.

You cross your arms. "Really?"

He frowns. "What's the matter?"

"Really. You need me to tell you not to let that woman eye-fucking you to put her hands all over you?" You shake your head. More dryly you add, "Right in front of me, too. I gotta give it to her, she's got brass balls."

Dean is bewildered, but then he replays the moment in his head and realizes that you're right. He kinda fucked up.

He sees the way you're getting all testy, and he has to chuckle.

"Okay. I'm sorry, sweetheart. My bad."

He reaches for your hand and manages to uncross your arms. You're stubborn in your irritation, but Dean is the king of persuasion, giving you teasing, flirty bedroom eyes and waggling brows as he pulls you towards him.

If you're still reluctant to soften, he adds, "Come on, don't be a sourpuss. Come 'ere."

Eventually he breaks you, making you laugh and hit his arm with no real force behind it.

Even Sam shakes his head, seeing how his brother manages to pacify you by sliding his arm around your shoulders across the booth. Dean leans in and kisses along your neck. He inhales your scent and hums in pleasure.

Sam clears his throat. He has to awkwardly look away.

"Gonna forgive me?" Dean asks, his lips moving against your skin. "Though I gotta admit, I kinda like it when you're jealous. All growly and fiesty. Got myself a little tiger."

You roll your eyes, but your lips tug at a smile. Your face warms in a blush, especially as his hand wanders under your jacket and teasingly up your side.

You slip your fingers into his hair, making sure to give a sharp little tug on it for good measure. He just laughs.

Oh, you'll forgive him, but maybe you'll make him do a little more penance when you all get back home.

Beau Arlen

Beau is a jealous man from the onset when a man flirts with you.

His lips purse, his jaw clicks, and he keeps a firm eye on the situation. He doesn't like it.

But to his credit, he tries not to act on it right away, letting you handle it the way you want to.

However, like Dean, the moment someone gets into your personal space or tries to touch you, he's pulling out some Sheriff moves.

If the man grabs at you, Beau's got his arm twisted behind his back so fast, he can almost feel ligaments popping. Beau gives a calm, but firm warning before sending the guy on his way. (He'd like to do more, but the department frowns on excessive violence.)

Maybe part of you gets annoyed at the show of jealousy, but a larger part of you can't help but be turned on when he protects you. You know it's not because he thinks you need protecting, but because he wants to.

"Can't help it, darlin'," he's said. "It's just how I was raised."

But you're the one that bristles when Danielle, a PTA mom at Emily's school, flirts with him. She laughs at his corny jokes with her white teeth and her perfectly layered and coiffed blonde hair.

She even gives him an extra cookie from her offering at the school's bake sale. (She knows what most of this town knows -- that the way to the Sheriff's heart is all too often through his stomach.)

Beau just nods along, smiling polite with that charming grin of his, totally oblivious while he eats. The last straw for you is when she wipes a bit of chocolate from the corner of his mouth.

Your mouth falls open in shock. "Are you shitting me?"

You accidentally say it out loud, earning not only your boyfriend's surprised look, but Danielle's guilty one as well. (And some of the kids.)

Blushing in embarrassment, you pivot on your heel and start packing up your supplies for the bake sale.

That's when Beau realizes that he fucked up.

He politely excuses himself from Danielle and goes to help you (wiping the crumbs off his face and licking chocolate off his thumb). He can tell you're feeling more than a little icy towards him, but he tries to make up for it by doing all the heavy lifting, bringing back things to the car, and helping you with the bags before he calls Emily over.

It's a long car ride home, awkward and tense. Emily can tell something's off between you and her dad, but when she asks about it, you claim nothing's wrong.

Beau knows better.

He waits until the three of you get home to the apartment you share with him, and after putting the bake sale stuff away, he follows you into the bedroom.

"Sweetheart--"

"What the hell was that, Beau?" You come in hot with it, and Beau is quick to try and ease your tension with an apology.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Couldn't you see that she was eyeing you like a honey-glazed ham?"

Beau's lips twitch at a grin, but you're not amused. You cross your arms and give him a warning look. That's when he wises up.

"Okay, you're right. I'm sorry." He chances taking a few slow steps towards you, raising his brows and keeping his hands up in surrender.

You eye him narrowly, but you let him get close enough to slip his arms around you. He gathers you against his chest and presses a lingering kiss to your cheek.

"I mean it. Won't happen again," he promises. His hands mold to the curve of your waist and squeeze gently. His lips move, burning a sweet path along your jawline, your chin, over the apple of your cheeks, and finally your lips. You breathe into it, and you can't help but cling to the front of his buttoned-down shirt.

"Do me a favor," you say quietly between kisses. "Don't eat Danielle's cookies."

Beau smiles against your lips. "Don't you worry, darlin'. From now on, I'll tell her that I've got some good cookie at home."

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Oh, Ben doesn't fuck around.

...Well, in the sense that he can't tolerate another man even looking at you flirtatiously, or otherwise with any kind of intent.

Depending on the severity, at best, it'll have Ben shooting the man a stony look of warning.

At worst, it ruins the day -- namely with the sound of bone snapping and a man's sobbing howl of pain.

You try to get him to tone it down ("For God's sake, Ben. It's fine. Just relax."), but this is one thing he well and truly doesn't budge on.

Ben is possessive. Because you're his. His to touch, and his to protect.

In his mind, it's fucking simple.

Whenever you get irritated with this brutish, knuckle-dragging, caveman mentality, you try to remember why he does it.

It's indicative of how much he actually cares about you.

Because if he didn't, he wouldn't really give a shit if other men were flirting with you. (He'd just find another woman to try and charm back to his apartment.)

So you've learned how to try and finesse these situations so that Ben doesn't notice.

You've also stopped letting down men easy, proverbially cutting off their dick and balls with your words.

Because it's quite literally to save their dumbass life.

But when other women flirt with Ben, he takes it all with indulgent smiles, throwing in a wink and a sweetheart every now and then.

He doesn't blame them for flirting with him, checking him out. He's Soldier Boy, after all, and in his mind, it's not his fault they can't help themselves around him.

However, a smile and a wink is all that he allows himself.

If he truly cares about you (and though he doesn't often express it in words, he does), then the unfamiliar twinge of guilt stops him whenever he almost accepts a woman's alluring invitation--spoken or unspoken.

His mouth might spew arrogance and gilded lies, but his actions too often betray what he really feels.

And what he really feels can't be any more clear than when he goes after you, instead of indulging the woman who basically undressed him with her eyes, whispered sultry, sexy offerings in his ear, and invited him to go home with her.

Seeing you take off out the double doors of the club, Ben rolls his eyes. He brushes the woman off without a backwards glance, and follows you out into the night air. He grabs your hand before you can get far in your heels.

"What the hell's the matter now?" he asks dryly.

You turn on him with an incredulous look.

"That woman was practically sucking your neck, Ben!"

"All right, don't fucking overreact. You're getting hysterical," he says, before guiding you back into his arms.

"I'm not fucking hysterical, you ass!" You push against his chest, but he doesn't budge, nor does he let you go. This isn't a good area, and he doesn't want you out in these streets at this time of night without him at your side.

"Ben," you say sharply. You look up at him in irritation, but he just smirks and strokes your side with his thumb.

Yes, (in his mind) you're being a little difficult, but he thinks your jealousy is amusing, adorable, and kind of hot all at the same time.

Ben doesn't bother with saying anything more to convince you. He just slips a hand behind your neck and kisses you soundly.

He invades your mouth with his tongue and devours you, reminding you that you're the one he wants.

He waylays you with his strong hands framing your body against his, and with his sinful mouth, until you finally melt into his embrace.

He's chosen you countless time before, and he knows he'll keep choosing you, for as long as this lasts.

Russell Shaw

Russell always clocks the "situation" right away when a man starts to flirt with you.

He's not one to make a scene of it at first, depending on the time and place.

But he is quick to sidle up to your side, pointedly slip a hand along your waist, and greet you with a deceptive smile.

"Hey, sweetheart. Let's grab that table over there. 'S more comfortable than the bar."

He glances up at the man, sharpness hidden well behind his green eyes. Whether the guy picks up on it or not, Russell is making a mugshot in his mind -- and he never forgets a face.

You eye him knowingly, but you let him guide you away. He's kind of cute when he's jealous, and it doesn't take much to spark that well of protectiveness that lies in wait just under his skin.

Russell isn't easily fazed by most things, but one sure way to provoke his temper (and those rougher, darker shades of him that he tries his best not to show you) is for a man to push his luck with you.

It really wouldn't take much effort at all for the former soldier to have a man clutching his bloody, shattered nose, let alone to dump his broken body in front of the closest hospital. But somehow, Russell manages to curb those darker urges. (Again, don't tempt him.)

But when another woman flirts with him, you're the one who starts to have steam coming out of your ears.

Russell doesn't miss much. He recognizes the sultry inflection in the woman's words. He catches the subtle, sensuous gleam in her eyes when she rakes him up and down with them.

He also notes the moment you look over and realize what's happening.

Regardless if you're looking or not, he tries his best to stay distant, but polite, even as a warning twinge of "aww shit" runs up his spine.

He tries to play things off with an amiable smile and being purposefully oblivious.

Until the woman gets bold, slipping her hand over Russell's and up his arm a bit, before she withdraws, tilting her head with a sweet-as-pie smile.

Cue Russ's awkward laugh/clearing of the throat. Before he has time to fully pull away and just come out with the, Sorry, I actually have a girlfriend -- you return to his side and pointedly grab his hand.

"Come on, honey, we'll be late," you say, giving him a tense smile.

The aww shit feeling is back, but Russell just nods and falls into step with you.

When you two have enough privacy to hash it out, you let him have it.

"What the hell was that?!"

Russell can't help but chuckle. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I tried to keep it classy, but that woman was persistent. Not that I blame her--"

"Oh, shut up." You roll your eyes (not that you really blame her either). Then you stare at your man in annoyance, crossing your arms. "I didn't see you trying all that hard to fend her off, huh, Romeo? If another man had touched me like that, you would've broken his fingers off, like a fucking caveman."

Russell's brows raise at the dig, but the way you're getting all testy is kind of cute (and also kinda hot).

"All right. You got me there," he says. He slips his arms around your waist and tries to soften you with a charming grin. "Come on, sweetheart. You know I'm not going anywhere."

"Do I?" you blurt out, before you have a chance to reign it back in.

Russell's contract jobs take him all over the country -- all over the world. Yes, he's on his way out, he claims. He wants to settle down with you, or so he says.

But you have no idea of knowing what he does when he's not with you.

All those days out on the road, crashing in skeevy motels, winding down at dive bars -- has he ever been tempted to "sample" the local fare? Has he ever...

Russell's amusement fades, sobering into a frown and a furrowing of his brows. He hums in disapproval. He doesn't like what he's seeing in your eyes: doubt, most of all.

"Hey," he says. It's a serious tone you don't often hear in his voice. He curls a finger under your chin and tilts your face up to meet his.

"I'm gonna need you to listen to me, and listen good," he says. You frown at that, but he brushes his thumb across your cheek, a small, but tender caress. "You and me, we've got something good. I know what that means. So you can believe me when I say, I'm in this. I'm right here, even when I'm not here."

And he smiles at you. "That make sense?"

Slowly, you start to smile too. "Not really," you laugh.

But it does. You know what he's trying to say, and...you believe him. Your fingers curl in the front of his shirt.

Tentatively, you lean up and press your lips to his; just a sweet, slow meeting.

Russell cups your cheek and leans in for a deeper taste, a deeper conviction of every word he just said.

I love you, is what it really means, even if he's not able to say that just yet.

AN: 😮‍💨 Well, there we go! lol I love me a protective man. 💜 Hope you enjoy this set of headcanons!

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[garciasgirl]

Secret Sunshine | spencer reid x reader ｡𖦹°‧

genre: fluff!!

summary: spencer and reader were childhood best friends, until spencer had to leave. spencer left reader when he went to college and they haven’t spoken in over ten years. one might, at a some random local bar garcia dragged the BAU too, spencer finds someone he wasn’t expecting to ever see again. his sunshine.

content: sunshine!reader, use of y/n, awkward!spencer, but he starts to get more confident slowly? idk, lighthearted teasing, spencer left her, spencer and reader are childhood best friends, nervous!spencer, nervous!readet, bubbly!reader, lots of longing for each other, super fluffy and cute, spencer struggles with being affected by his job, baker!reader

notes: guys this is my first time writing like this please im so so sorry if it’s bad!! pls don’t be mean i will cry

word count: 2.8k

──── ୨୧ ──── ──── ୨୧ ────

spencer didn’t often entertain the teams schemes of bringing him out to a club or bar. however, their last case in particular got to him. the details still fresh and relentless in his mind. a case involving children. cases were hard enough, but when it involved children, that came with a different feeling. A stronger one.

Spencer hated how much his job affected him. Especially when he looked at his team members, they never seemed to have any issue. Sure, the pictures could be gruesome and disturbing, which the team were affected by. But Spencer, it wasn’t just the pictures. It was guilt that came along with it. maybe the only downside to an eidetic memory. He could never take his mind off of anything. The cases, the victims, the guilt. What if he could’ve done better? What if he figured things out faster? Would he have saved those victims? Was this his fault? It was eating at him too much, maybe that’s why he agreed to garcia’s team bonding event at a local bar.

“having fun, genius?” Morgan’s familiar teasing tone suddenly appeared. no, he was not. but Penelope was right there, and he wouldn’t hear the end of it if he said anything of the sort in front of her. he settled on “sure, a blast.” spencer wasn’t usually one for sarcasm, but an occasional snippy response happened here and there. “come on, spence..loosen up!! we all are in need of a break.” jj sat down next to him, her smile was warm and her voice kind. the teams teasing was playful and light, it always was. but spencer did not need any more stress, and this environment was starting to feel a lot more overwhelming than expected. too loud, music playing and people shouting over it, too bright, light for every corner yet it was so dark. and way too many people. he just needed a break, just a couple seconds.

“im going to get a drink.” spencer muttered, standing up and making his way to the bar. “uh, just, a sprite please.” he never liked alcohol, spencer liked control. and alcohol came with uncontrollable chaos. spencer lingered at the bar for a couple minutes, at first it was a bit calming. there weren’t many people surrounding him, and the music wasn’t as loud over here. that was until a swarm of people came over to the bar, shouting and practically pushing spencer out of the way. he sighed, a bit annoyed, and grabbed his drink. he returned to the table filled with his coworkers, and sat back down. jj said something to him, he doesn’t respond. he means to, but he just can’t.. his attention was somewhere else. on someone else.

her. those brown curls that bounced with every step. the dimples, you hadn’t changed much since he last saw you. which was, the summer when you both were thirteen. your tan skin glistened under the lights, and the smile stretched onto your face was so familiar, he almost felt pulled to you. he knew he couldn’t go over to you, what if you didn’t remember? but, he could just…look, right?

“Reid? Hello…pretty boy?” Morgan snapped his fingers in Spencer’s face. Spencer shook his head slightly “huh..?” He muttered, not turning his attention away from you. he took a quick glance at morgan, his attention springing back to you almost instantly. Derek laughed at him, “welcome back man, what were you..”

he trails off, following Spencer’s eyes. a low whistle followed by some deep laughter. “well, look at that, pretty boys’s got himself a crush.” Spencer shook himself slightly and cleared his throat. Taking a sip from his drink. “Shut up morgan, I uh..” emily shook her head at him “don’t even try Reid, he is never letting this go.” She was right; but Spencer couldn’t bring himself to care much in that moment. You were in the center of his brain, and you were hard to shake.

He thought this couldn’t get any worse, any more awkward. the moment he noticed you, he felt overwhelmed with nostalgia. Even though he was scared that you would notice him, and how you would respond. he still felt a longing for you. a longing for the person he had considered his home, and the person that he was forced to leave when college came around. the shock from seeing you and the embarrassment from his team, which he knew was coming, was all to much. just enough to make his hand twitch and sweat, which in result, the drink in his hand spilled. not all the way, but just enough to cover the part of the table in front of him. as he scrambled to clean it up, his ears turning pink from his teams teasing, he heard that voice.

you weren’t even talking to him yet, you had walked in the bar with some unfamiliar faces. friends of yours, he assumed. the feelings of embarrassment and nostalgia were pushed down. and the pain of guilt flooded through his system. spencer didn’t mean to leave you. you were, well, everything to him. but college was important to him, and even more important to his mom. he couldn’t say no. losing you was heartbreaking, but you encouraging him to go, that buried him deep into the ground. you were just so kind, so caring. even though Spencer was the only person you ever truly trusted, you told him to move across the country because you wanted him to chase his dreams. he still felt guilty, he still felt like an absolute idiot. maybe it was the creepy staring from both spencer. Or maybe it was the equally creepy staring from his team. but eventually you turned around, and you had noticed him. you had seen Spencer. The man you have been dying to see again since the moment he left. you walked over to him, not meaning to leave your friends behind, but doing it anyway.

“Spencer Reid? that cannot be you!” A warm voice flooded the area Spencer and his team were currently occupying. “y/n, uh..hi..!” He mumbled awkwardly, the teams glance stuck on Spencer, except for morgan, of course. Who was busy ogling over y/n. He did that with every pretty girl, but, y/n was different. Spencer didn’t understand the feelings arising, but he knew he didn’t want morgan looking at you like that for any longer.

laughter, soft and feminine broke out. “Spence, really? We’ve known each other for what? Over ten years? Don’t be so awkward!!” y/n spoke directly towards Spencer, not even acknowledging the rest of his team yet. Morgan nudged Spencer with his shoulder. “Pretty boy, ten years!! You’ve known this gorgeous lady for over ten years and you’re acting like a high school boy?”

“Shut up- morgan! I, I just didn’t expect to see her, okay?” Spencer responded, his voice unsure, which wasn’t common. “You didn’t expect to see me? Seriously spence, am I that forgettable?” You teased lightly. Not in a mean way, but in the childish way you had done all those years ago. “Wait, years? Oh you have some explaining to do!!” Garcias chirpy voice sounded out. The rest of the team, agreeing in hums and yeahs.

“right..” he cleared his throat, again. “Guys, this is y/n, she is, was, a good friend of mine.” despite the sting from his words, y/n smiled politely at everyone, “hi, it’s so nice to meet you all!” you were ushered to sit, by penelope, and you complied, taking the seat next to Spencer. you, feeling uneasy about all of the new faces, stared down at your feet. Spencer watched you, his eyes not ever leaving you. Not even for a second. His eyes were trained on you confidently, but spencer was nervous. His face was flushed, even though it was barely noticeable under the fluorescent bar lights. The team all watched the two of you with knowing eyes, their reactions pleasant to seeing their genius yet awkward Dr. Spencer Reid having such a connection. Morgan seemed the most amused, giving Spencer a playful slap on the back “my man!!” He joked before walking off with penelope.

Spencer had laughed at Derek slightly, but stopped when his eyes finally lingered over you again. he looked at you deeply, his eyes caressing over your features, he couldn’t believed how different you looked. but in a way, you looked the exact same. your hair was just as curly, your eyes bright with that same spark you held when you were young. even though you looked a little different, you still felt the same to spencer. like warmth, like home. spencer must’ve been staring for too long because you had noticed, giving him a small smile, biting her lip hesitatingly before saying.

“hi..sorry for, intruding.” you whispered, a soft, but apologetic smile on your face. for the first time during this entire conversation, spencer smiled. This was a good sign, you believed. At first, when you had sat down, you felt the nerves rush over you. It had been a long time, and even though Spencer was the one who had left. You felt worried that maybe, he wasn’t as fond that you returned as he made it seem. You wanted him to still care about you, and you were worried that the love he had for you may have faded over the years.

“hey, don’t be sorry. im glad to see you.” you had calmed down slightly at his words, spencer wasn’t one to lie unless completely necessary. So you trusted he was being truthful with his words. Even if he wasn’t, to hear them was so enticing, you just wanted him to talk on and on. About whatever, his voice and his words were all you wanted to hear anyway.

Spencer hadn’t realized how much he missed that, the simplicity of it. When life had been so cruel, you had been his escape, a source of light in a house full of shadows. ‘Sunshine,��� he used to call you, but now it felt more like a warning. Maybe, just maybe, you were the one thing that could make him feel like himself again.

And that voice, spencer swears he could hear that voice forever and never get bored. he would dream about you, often. your appearance was vivid, but as the years passed, the familiarity of your voice started to fade. when he finally heard it again, it was like heaven. you always spoke so beautifully. it was purely angelic. everything about you was an angelic. and was spencer glad that you were finally back in front of him, and not just in his dreams.

the smile on your face turned brighter, you took a sip out of your drink. “so..it’s been a while.” You comment, not sure how to start a conversation when the two of you haven’t talk for over 10 years. “sure has, sunshine.”

sunshine. that nickname, spencer used to call you that all the time. he said you were like his own personal piece of sunshine. quite poetic for a thirteen year old boy, but then again, it was spencer. warmth flooded into your cheeks, a soft look of joy and nostalgia filling her eyes.

spencer looked different, his hair was longer, and he looked a lot more mature. even though his outward appearance had changed, spencer was still spencer, and you liked that. when the rest of the team, who had been lingering, dispersed amongst the bar, spencer calmed down.

“what are you doing here anyway, not that im not happy you’re here, but..” you laughed softly and shook your head. “I just started working a new job here, speaking of jobs, you’re finally the fbi agent you dreamed of being!!” you said accidentally, putting a gentle hand on his arm. “im proud of you, spence.” his eyes softened, his other hand placed on top of yours. he gave it a quick squeeze. “thank you, sunshine.” the quick squeeze, the comfort that came with it was almost breaktaking. you hadn’t felt the calmness that spencer’s touch brought in years. feeling it, was almost overwhelming. even though spencer was the one who had initiated the sudden touch, he still felt the warmth flood through him. your hand, even just the simplest connection had almost knocked the wind out of him.

spencer wasn’t sure why he felt so comfortable. After all, you two haven’t seen each other in years. and, as cliche as it might sound, it feels like you two never parted ways. you were always his comfort, a home, in a way. between his absent father, schizophrenic mother, and the torment he suffered in school from his peers, you were always the person he went to. you were his little piece of sunshine. and now that he’s an fbi agent dealing with his own personal demons, maybe that sunshine is just what he needs?

Spencer shakes himself from this thoughts, turning to face you more. he hasn’t take his hand off of yours, and you haven’t made any move to retract your hand. so he keeps it there, resting gently on top of yours. it’s relaxing. Spencer realizes he hasn’t said much so he makes small talk. “new job, you said? what kind of job?” he asks, looking at you. his eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips. you smile, brightly. a sense of pride shining through. “a bakery!! you know I used to talk about owning one all time!!” spencer does know. you were an amazing baker, and the way you gushed and smiled over your job, almost made spencer feel giddy inside. he grins, a boyish and familiar sight.

“y/n, that’s amazing!! you truly are the best baker I’ve ever known.” you laugh, giving him a serious nod. “oh you bet I am!! so, back to you. big shot fbi agent, hm?” spencer dulls just slightly. but, of course, you notice. you’re about to spill out a string of apologies for even bringing it up but Spencer stops you before you even get the words out. “don’t apologize, it’s just hard. all the..victims, and cases. I used to think I was helping people. But now, it’s almost like im just losing myself more and more.”

your eyes get sad, a sympathetic look on your face. you know Spencer hates being pitied, but you couldn’t help it. “you are helping people. you always have spencer, that’s just the kind of you person you are! but trust me, we all get overwhelmed and we all get lost in things we don’t want to. im here, yeah?” you comfort him with your words, it was always something you were perfect at. you could always solve all of his problems, even for just a moment, with your words.

spencer looks deep in your eyes, for just a moment. “you haven’t changed at all, you know that, sunshine?” he mutters, his voice deep and gravely. you shiver at his tone. you couldn’t say the same for him. “you are completely different, did you know that?” he chuckles, his loose hold on your hand becoming just a bit firmer, his thumb rubbing lazily against the back of your hand. teenage spencer was your everything, but this new, more mature side of him? oh, you could get used to it.

you stir your drink with the straw, looking at him, lingering a bit too long. he was captivating, you felt drawn in by his presence. You weren’t sure if it was the slight buzz from the alcohol, or the adrenaline from seeing him, but you could not take your eyes off of him. obviously, Spencer had noticed. he laughed, the deep noise rumbling in your ears. “Careful there, sunshine. you keep looking at me like that..I might just start thinking im interesting.”

you laugh, Spencer always made you laugh. In every situation, every scenario. “Well we can’t have you grow an ego can we?” You nudge his chest playfully with your hand. Spencer is slightly stunned by the sudden and unexpected touch, but he raises an eyebrow and gives a slow nod.

“I don’t think I can help it..” you mutter.

“Help what?” He questions, looking down at you, his voice low.

“Staring at you.” You say, playing with you drink, a ghost of a smile playing on your lips.

“Good, I didn’t want you to stop anyway.” He plays along, getting bolder as the minutes pass.

you blushed at his words, spencer used to be a shy and awkward boy, and some of that old personality had shown through tonight. but right now, when it was just you and him. spencer was confident, and it was different. a good different. it made you never want to leave him again.

but It was staring to get late, and even though you both didn’t want to. You knew that this was going to have to end soon. But Spencer was determined, he wasn’t letting you go. Not again, not ever. He wouldn’t let it happen.

As the night began to wind down, you glanced at your phone, realizing how late it had gotten. You stood, your chair scraping softly against the floor. “I should probably head out,” you said, a hint of reluctance in your voice.

Spencer stood with you, his hands fidgeting in his pockets. He didn’t want the night to end, not yet.

As you reached for your bag, Spencer hesitated for a moment before stepping closer, his hand brushing lightly against yours. The contact made you pause, your eyes meeting his.

“Y/N…” His voice was quiet but firm, his usual nervousness softened by something deeper. “I don’t want to wait another ten years to see you again.”

The sincerity in his words made your chest tighten. You smiled, warmth flooding your features as you reached up and gently pushed a strand of his longer hair out of his face. “You won’t have to, Spence,” you said softly.

For a moment, it was just the two of you, the noise of the bar fading into the background. Spencer’s lips curled into a rare, boyish grin, the kind you hadn’t seen in years, as you slipped your hand into his.

It wasn’t a grand gesture, but it didn’t need to be. As the two of you walked toward the exit together, his hand still resting in yours, it felt like the first step toward something you’d both been waiting for, even if neither of you realized it until now.

And for Spencer, for the first time in years, the world felt just a little brighter.

[antinousletmehit]

˚₊‧꒰ა Chapter 28 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

୨୧┇pairing: Telemachus x reader

୨୧┇mostly gonna be a filler chapter with acrisios

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

Acrisios leaned against the railing of the palace’s outer courtyard, enjoying the cool breeze that carried the scent of the sea. Telemachus sat beside him on a stone bench, his legs sprawled out lazily as he toyed with a dagger, tossing it between his hands.

“So, Acrisios,” Telemachus began, his voice light but clearly mischievous. “You’ve been oddly quiet lately. A bit distracted, I’d say.”

Acrisios side eyed him, already sensing where this was going. “I’m not distracted. You’re just louder than usual.”

Telemachus smirked. “Oh, I’m plenty loud, but not as loud as your heart probably is whenever you think about Lethea.” He dragged her name out teasingly, watching as Acrisios visibly stiffened.

Acrisios tried to play it cool, but the flush creeping up his neck betrayed him. “What are you on about now?” he muttered, looking out at the horizon as if it would save him.

“Don’t act dumb,” Telemachus said, nudging his friend’s arm. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. The thin girl with the classy walk, always looking like she belongs in the heavens with the Olympians.” He grinned as Acrisios groaned and rubbed a hand down his face.

“Don’t start,” Acrisios warned, but it only fueled Telemachus further.

“I mean, seriously,” Telemachus continued, his tone mockingly dreamy. “She’s so proper, so pristine. And you… well, you’re a sailor’s son who smells like saltwater half the time.”

Acrisios turned to glare at him. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, friend.”

“Don’t take it the wrong way,” Telemachus said with a laugh. “It’s just… Lethea? Really? I can’t picture her even looking at you without flinching, let alone returning your feelings.”

Acrisios crossed his arms, his jaw tightening. “And yet I’d bet she’d look at me with more interest than Y/N looked at you before your pillow incident.”

Telemachus froze, his smirk faltering as his face turned crimson. “That—was—different!” he stammered. “We’re not talking about me!”

“No,” Acrisios shot back, his smirk returning. “We’re talking about you shutting up before I throw you into the ocean.”

Telemachus rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop laughing. “Fine, fine. But seriously, you’ve got to tell me—how’d you even meet her? Did she drop a handkerchief, and you picked it up all gallantly?”

Acrisios sighed, clearly reluctant to share. “It was nothing like that,” he said, his voice quieter. “Her father’s religious practices take him near the docks sometimes. I… ran into her there, helping some workers distribute offerings.”

“And what? She smiled at you, and suddenly you’re writing ballads about her?” Telemachus teased, though there was a genuine curiosity behind his tone.

“No ballads,” Acrisios muttered, though his ears turned red. “But she… she’s different, alright? She has this presence, this way of holding herself. It’s like she’s untouchable, but she doesn’t look down on anyone. And those little strands of hair sticking out from under her veil?” He shook his head. “They drive me insane.”

Telemachus let out a low whistle. “Wow. You’ve really got it bad, don’t you?”

“Shut up.” Acrisios pushed him lightly, though there was no real force behind it.

Telemachus leaned back, grinning. “I’ll admit, she sounds like a goddess. Maybe I should meet her myself. Who knows? She might think I’m more her type.”

Acrisios’s glare could have cut stone. “If you so much as breathe in her direction, I swear—”

Telemachus raised his hands in surrender, laughing. “Relax, sailor boy. She’s all yours. Just… good luck convincing her father that you’re worthy.”

Acrisios sighed heavily, leaning his head back against the railing. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Telemachus watched his friend with a smirk, but there was a glimmer of respect in his eyes. “You’ll figure it out. If she’s really as amazing as you say, you’ll find a way to reach her. Even if you do smell like fish half the time.”

Acrisios shoved him again, but this time he couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at his lips.

——

Acrisios leaned against the edge of the palace balcony, gazing at the distant horizon, his mind far away from the bustling noise of the palace. He wasn’t thinking about the sea this time, though. No, his thoughts were focused on her. Lethea. The way her veil delicately framed her face, those stray strands of hair that peeked out like golden threads from beneath it, and the serene, almost ethereal way she carried herself.

“She’s so…” Acrisios murmured, almost to himself, before catching the faintest sound of muffled snickering behind him.

He turned to see Telemachus leaning casually against the wall, his arms crossed, and the widest grin plastered across his face. “So what, Acrisios? Pretty? Divine? A walking poem?”

Acrisios groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Do you always have to sneak up on me?”

“Well, when you’re standing here, looking all dazed and dreamy, it’s hard not to,” Telemachus shot back, laughing. “I’ve never seen you like this, Acrisios. You’re smitten! Absolutely smitten!”

“I’m not smitten,” Acrisios muttered, his cheeks flushing.

Telemachus gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “Not smitten? You’ve been standing here staring at the sky for an hour, probably imagining her descending from Mount Olympus, all glowy and perfect!” He stepped closer, eyes wide with mock excitement. “Do you write her name in the sand when no one’s looking? Or carve it into the mast of the ship? Tell me!”

Acrisios shoved him lightly. “I don’t do that. And stop making such a big deal about it.”

Telemachus wasn’t deterred in the slightest. “Oh, no, this is a huge deal. You, Mr. Rough-and-Tough-Sailor, have a crush! And not just on any girl—on the daughter of a religious man, all classy and proper. You’re in trouble, my friend.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” Acrisios grumbled, though his lips twitched as if suppressing a smile.

“But seriously,” Telemachus continued, his grin turning a bit softer. “What is it about her? You’ve seen plenty of women at the ports. Why her?”

Acrisios hesitated for a moment, leaning back against the railing as he looked up at the sky. “She’s… different. Most people look at someone like me—a sailor’s son—and see nothing worth their time. But Lethea doesn’t. She… sees people, you know? Like she really looks at you. And she’s just so—” He paused, searching for the right word.

“Beautiful,” Telemachus finished for him, his grin returning.

“More than that,” Acrisios said, his voice quieter. “She’s like… sunlight. Warm, but not overwhelming. Just enough to make you want to stand in it a little longer.”

Telemachus froze, blinking at his friend before letting out an exaggerated squeal. “Oh my gods, Acrisios, you’re hopeless! This is the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard! I can’t believe it. You’re actually—wait, wait, I need a moment.” He pretended to fan himself as if overwhelmed by the sentiment.

“Are you done?” Acrisios asked, though he was clearly fighting back his own laughter.

“Absolutely not,” Telemachus declared. “I’m going to tell everyone.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Acrisios growled, narrowing his eyes.

“Oh, I so would,” Telemachus shot back, still laughing. “But don’t worry, I won’t. For now.” He clapped Acrisios on the shoulder, grinning. “I’ve got to admit, though. You’re really into her, huh?”

Acrisios sighed, shaking his head but smiling slightly. “Yeah.

——

Acrisios leaned back in his chair, propping his boots up on the low table in Telemachus’s room. The two had been lounging for a while, enjoying a rare moment of peace. Acrisios took a sip of his wine, smirking as he glanced at Telemachus, who was sprawled out on the bed with his tunic messily half buttoned and his hair a wild, unkempt mop.

“You know,” Acrisios began, his voice dripping with mock seriousness, “it’s kind of amazing.”

Telemachus turned his head lazily, raising an eyebrow. “What’s amazing?”

“That in less than a month, you’re going to be married. To Y/N. Y/N. The daughter of the enemy. And not just married, married and crowned as king of Ithaca. And yet,” he gestured dramatically at Telemachus’s appearance, “you still look like a drunken sailor who’s been shipwrecked for a week.”

Telemachus snorted, throwing a pillow at him. “Oh, shut up.”

Acrisios dodged the pillow with ease, laughing. “No, seriously, how does Y/N put up with you? Does she think this whole ‘slob aesthetic’ is charming or something? I mean even Antinous has more manners.”

Telemachus groaned, sitting up and running a hand through his hair, making it even messier. “It’s not that bad.”

Acrisios pointed at the half-eaten loaf of bread sitting on the floor next to the bed. “You’ve got crumbs everywhere, your tunic’s hanging on for dear life, and I’m pretty sure your sandals are mismatched. Are you planning to show up to your wedding like this? Because if so, I want a front-row seat for Y/N’s reaction.”

Telemachus threw another pillow, this time hitting Acrisios square in the chest. “I’ll clean up, okay? Gods, you sound like my mother.”

Acrisios grinned, tossing the pillow back onto the bed. “I’m just saying, Telemachus, kings are supposed to look… regal. You? You’re one step away from being mistaken for a stable boy.”

Telemachus rolled his eyes. “What do you know about being a king? You’re a sailor’s son.”

“And yet I’ve got better manners than you,” Acrisios shot back, smirking. “At least I know how to brush my hair.”

Telemachus groaned, flopping back onto the bed. “Why are you even here? Don’t you have a ship to catch or something?”

“Nope,” Acrisios said cheerfully, crossing his arms behind his head. “I’m here to make sure you don’t embarrass yourself completely before the wedding. Someone’s gotta whip you into shape, and clearly, Y/N given up on that front.”

Telemachus sat up again, pointing a finger at Acrisios. “You’re lucky you’re my friend, or I’d throw you out of the palace right now.”

Acrisios laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Relax, Your Majesty. I’m just preparing you for the kind of teasing you’ll get from your in-laws. Antinous isn’t exactly going to go easy on you, you know.”

Telemachus groaned again, flopping back dramatically. “Don’t remind me.”

Acrisios shook his head, chuckling. “You’re hopeless, Telemachus. Absolutely hopeless.”

——

Telemachus ducked behind his bed, clutching a pillow like it was a shield in the heat of battle. “You’ll never win, Acrisios!” he taunted, a mischievous grin plastered across his face.

Acrisios stood on the other side of the room, holding two pillows like weapons. “Oh, I’m already winning. Watch and learn, future king of Ithaca!” He lunged forward, hurling one pillow across the room.

Telemachus yelped as the pillow smacked him square in the face. “Cheap shot!” he cried, throwing his own pillow back with full force. It missed Acrisios entirely and hit a vase, which wobbled dangerously but didn’t fall. They were both laughing like children, the room an absolute mess of feathers and disheveled bedding, when the door suddenly opened.

“Telemachus, are you—” Y/N’s voice trailed off as she and Lethea stepped into the room.

Acrisios froze mid swing, his pillow raised in the air, as his eyes locked on Lethea. She stood beside Y/N, her veil perfectly in place but with a few strands of hair delicately escaping, framing her face. Her hands were folded in front of her, but her head tilted slightly, and her wide, curious eyes settled on him.

For a moment, it was dead silent. Then Lethea’s gaze flicked to the chaos of the room—the feathers scattered everywhere, the pillows strewn about, and Acrisios standing there like he’d just been caught stealing. “What… is happening?” Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow at her fiancé and his friend.

Telemachus cleared his throat, hastily tossing the pillow aside and trying to sit up straight on the bed. “Uh… strategy meeting?”

She gave him an unimpressed look, crossing her arms. “With pillows?”

“Very advanced strategy,” Acrisios mumbled, lowering his pillow slowly, but his eyes stayed glued to Lethea.

Lethea blinked, her gaze moving back to Acrisios. Her expression didn’t change much—calm, composed, with a slight air of curiosity—but it was enough to make Acrisios’s brain short circuit.

Y/N glanced between the two and smirked knowingly. “Anyway, we just came to—”

“I-I didn’t mean—” Acrisios stammered suddenly, startling everyone in the room. He dropped the pillow entirely, his hands going to smooth his tunic, which had been ruffled in the chaos. “This isn’t what it looks like. I mean, it is, but it’s not—uh—usually I’m not…”

Lethea raised an eyebrow, her veil fluttering slightly as she shifted her head. “Usually you’re not… what?” she asked softly, her voice calm but clearly curious.

Acrisios’s mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air. Telemachus, sensing his friend’s impending meltdown, tried to step in. “What he means is, Acrisios is just really dedicated to… physical activity.”

Y/N snorted. “Right. Physical activity. Sure.”

Acrisios shot Telemachus a desperate look, his face going redder by the second. “I, uh… I mean…” He trailed off completely, shifting awkwardly under Lethea’s steady gaze.

Lethea’s lips curved into the faintest of smiles, and she turned to Y/N. “Should we leave them to their… physical activity?”

She grinned, clearly enjoying Acrisios’s discomfort. “Oh, absolutely.” She grabbed Lethea’s arm and started leading her out of the room, but not before throwing a teasing glance over her shoulder. “Try not to destroy the place again, boys.”

As the door closed behind them, Acrisios let out a loud groan and collapsed onto the bed, burying his face in what remained of a pillow. “Kill me. Just kill me now.”

Telemachus burst out laughing, flopping onto the bed beside him. “You’re hopeless! Did you see her face? She was so judging you!”

Acrisios groaned louder, smacking Telemachus weakly with the pillow. “I made a complete fool of myself. I’ve got zero chance with her now. Zero!”

Telemachus wiped a tear from his eye, still laughing. “Oh, you had zero chance before this. But hey, at least now she knows your favorite weapon is a pillow.”

Acrisios rolled onto his back, glaring at the ceiling. “I’m never showing my face again.”

“Good luck with that,” Telemachus said, grinning. “You’ll need it for the wedding next month.”

Acrisios groaned again, throwing the pillow over his face to block out the world.

@procrastination20 @jackiepackiee @barrythestrawberry041 @blessedbyahuntress

@f3r4lfr0gg3r @permanently-nothere @eyuunho @jackintheboxs-world @simpingmyassoff @sunshinewhosketches

@sugarlillycookie @kaguraaaa @doodle-with-rhy

@0anodite0 @cocosparkel @tati-the-fangirl

@dazedemery @tsmaruchan

@holywizardprincess @galaxygurlil @pjopinkk @xo-cuteplosion-xo

[regressionschool]

The room is quiet, save for the faint hum of the fan spinning lazily above you. You're sitting cross-legged on the hardwood floor, your knees brushing against the soft fabric of your oversized sweater. Your phone rests in your hands, your thumbs hesitating over the screen. The photo you’ve just taken stares back at you—a mirror selfie, playful yet daring, with your pull-up peeking boldly from under your pastel outfit. You try not to focus too much on the faint crinkling sound that seemed so loud when you shifted into position.

Your cheeks flush as you glance at the image again. It’s not just the picture itself—it’s what it represents. Earlier today, you’d caught him smiling at that girl in the café. She had been confident, unapologetically showing off her diaper as if it were the most natural thing in the world. And the way he’d smiled—warm, genuine, a little intrigued—had stuck with you all day. You couldn’t help but wonder if he’d react the same way to you.

Biting your lip, you type the message, heart pounding in your chest. Each word feels like it carries a thousand meanings. “Hey, noticed you liked her look earlier... Do you think this suits me too?” The text hangs there in the chat box, unfinished, until you finally press send. The little paper airplane icon flutters away, taking your courage with it.

Now it’s just you and the waiting. Your knees draw up slightly as you glance nervously at the phone screen, your pull-up squishing softly against the floor with the movement. You fidget with the hem of your sweater, unsure whether the heat in your face is embarrassment or anticipation. What if he doesn’t reply? What if he thinks it’s weird? Or worse—what if he doesn’t even understand what you’re trying to say?

You shake your head, trying to banish the thoughts. He’s kind. He smiled at her, didn’t he? Maybe he’d smile at you too. Maybe he’d think you’re cute. You can’t help but wonder how he’ll respond—if he’ll tease you, or maybe say something that makes you feel small and safe in a way you’ve been craving without realizing.

A faint buzz pulls you back to the moment. Your eyes dart to the screen. His name pops up at the top of the chat. Your heart skips as the three little dots appear.

He’s typing…

[evilcokito]

@ceruleancattail

HELP HELLO this scare me and it's cute at same time, I love it. Make me think my choices again.

Is Cater good at sewing? No idea.

But he's more of a photography guy, maybe photocards. He's more of an editing guy on apps... but lately started buying those really cute little stickers for decorating. Hearts, ribbons, witch hats.

Where did he get the pictures? You took a lot of selfies with him. Just cut them. Nothing weird about it. He has a book with all of them saved. Turns out just having them on his phone isn't enough, he needed to carry some of them with him. Some have guitar picks in their photo case "Take care of them." And he returns the favor with a kiss.

Cater bought you food lately (for your real one) because he wanted to return the favor. Since he has you with him, his luck has increased! You really bring good luck!. Although, not a lot of luck, because he just has those photos of you... maybe luck needs a little help.

But it's going to be hard to find a case where you fit.

Cater is asking you about your favorite stickers lately. Do you like those colors? The colors of the sunset?

Interesting.

You're not going to judge him and freak out if he does everything nice for you, and makes it clear that he knows you very well. Right?

"One day you'll be mine, like those dolls in my house"

*With my friend we like to think that Sam knows at least 3 words in Spanish, but all 3 are killers.

**Also with that same friend of questionable tastes too, we thought a lot about the subject of dolls. "Sam has a little doll of you. One day you will disappear, and that doll will take your place in this world."

***Sam loves his dolls, but he probably loved you a lot more and decided that a simple doll he made himself wasn't enough.

Don't worry, Sam takes good care of them. He'll take good care of you, too.

[rose24207]

dtMF

Summary: Lando sits on a San Juan beach, holding a Polaroid camera, reflecting on his lost love and regretting the moments he took for granted, wishing he could tell her he still loves her.

Genre: angst, fluff

Lando x dead!f!reader

TW: Death, grief, coping, the song itself basically

A/N: I feel emotional about this one :( English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Masterlist pt. 2

The sunsets in San Juan were beautiful, like paintings brushed across the sky. Lando sat on a weathered stone wall overlooking the beach, the horizon awash with golden hues melting into soft purples. A faint breeze carried the scent of salt and seaweed, rustling the palm trees that lined the shore.

It should’ve felt peaceful. It should’ve brought comfort.

But to Lando, it was just another reminder of what you were missing.

He gripped a Polaroid camera in his hands—the same one you’d gifted him years ago on one of your many adventures. "So we can remember the little things," you had said with a grin, snapping the first photo of him right then and there. That photo was still in his wallet, fraying at the edges from years of handling.

But tonight, it felt heavier than ever.

He tilted his head back, letting the fading sunlight warm his face. For a moment, he imagined you beside him, your laughter ringing out as you teased him for getting too sentimental. He could almost hear your voice.

“Enjoy the sunset, Lando,” you’d say. “Moments like these don’t come often.”

You were right—they didn’t. But now, he wasn’t sure he wanted to enjoy them. Not without you.

Lando still replayed the last time he saw you over and over in his mind. The memory clung to him, sharp and unrelenting. You’d been standing at the airport, a soft smile tugging at your lips as he hugged you goodbye.

“Don’t forget to take lots of pictures,” you’d teased, your arms tightening around him.

“As long as you don’t forget to answer my calls,” he’d replied, resting his chin on your head.

You’d laughed, leaning back to look into his eyes. “Never.”

But life had other plans.

The accident happened on an ordinary day, the kind of day that should’ve been insignificant. Lando had been across the world, standing on a podium with champagne in his hand and a grin on his face, completely unaware that his world was already breaking.

He hadn’t even been there when it happened.

That was what haunted him the most—the distance, the helplessness, the fact that he couldn’t save you. He couldn’t hold your hand, couldn’t whisper reassurances, couldn’t tell you one last time how much he loved you.

Now, he’d give anything to go back. To the last time he looked into your eyes. To the moments he’d taken for granted. To the kisses he hadn’t stolen, the hugs he hadn’t given, the pictures he hadn’t taken.

The nights felt endless without you. He filled them with distractions—races, interviews, dinners with friends—but nothing worked. The second he was alone, the grief swallowed him whole.

One night, he found himself in the car, driving aimlessly through the streets of San Juan. He didn’t even know why he’d come here. Maybe because it was the last place where you’d truly been happy, where the two of you had spent sun-soaked days exploring the island and dancing under the stars.

Eventually, he ended up at a small bar tucked away on a quiet street. The air inside was thick with the smell of rum and the sound of salsa music. Lando sat at the counter, ordering a drink he didn’t want but couldn’t bring himself to leave untouched.

The bartender, an older man with a kind face, gave him a curious look. “You’ve got the look of someone carrying a heavy heart,” he said.

Lando managed a weak smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah. Something like that.”

The bartender nodded knowingly, sliding the drink toward him. “Grief is a heavy thing, my friend. But it means you loved deeply. That’s a rare gift.”

Lando swallowed hard, the words hitting too close to home. He stared into his glass, his reflection distorted by the amber liquid.

“I should’ve taken more pictures,” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the music. “I should’ve kissed her more, hugged her more.”

The bartender’s expression softened. “The regrets never go away, but neither does the love. Hold onto that.”

Later that night, Lando found himself back on the beach, the Polaroid camera slung over his shoulder. The moon hung low in the sky, its light reflecting off the waves that lapped gently at the shore. He dropped down onto the sand, his knees pulling up to his chest as he stared out at the endless expanse of water.

He thought about you—your laugh, your touch, the way you used to hum softly when you thought no one was listening. He thought about the way you’d wrinkle your nose when you were concentrating, the way your eyes sparkled when you talked about something you loved.

“Tell me, love,” he whispered to the night, his voice breaking. “Where are you?”

The silence that followed was deafening.

“I’d meet you anywhere,” he continued, tears streaming down his face. “Just tell me where.”

He imagined what it would be like to see you again, even for a moment. He thought about all the things he’d say, all the things he hadn’t said before. He thought about the pictures he’d take, the memories he’d hold onto so tightly this time.

But no matter how hard he wished, you wouldn’t come back.

The Polaroid camera sat heavy in his lap. For a long time, he just stared at it, his fingers trembling. Then, with a deep breath, he lifted it to his face and snapped a picture of the ocean under the moonlight.

The photo slid out, the image slowly developing before his eyes. It wasn’t much—just the empty beach, the waves shimmering in the distance. But it was something.

He leaned back against the sand, holding the photo tightly in his hand. His chest felt hollow, the weight of your absence pressing down on him like a physical force.

“I hope you can see me,” he whispered. “Wherever you are. I hope you know how much I miss you.”

The waves continued to crash softly against the shore, a steady rhythm that matched the aching pulse of his heart.

“I’ll never stop loving you,” he said, his voice cracking. “Even if it hurts. Even if it’s forever.”

And as the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, Lando sat there, the picture in his hand and your memory etched into his soul, forever a part of him.

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @ipushhimback, @ladyoflynx, @lewishamiltonismybf, @cmleitora, @hmma3 , @same1995, @amatswimming, @llando4norris

[legolasghosty]

Yeah @innytoes has captured me with fae magic and now I'm hooked on her Kidnapped by the Fae AU so... I'm sorry.

Alex couldn't sleep. Like he actually physically couldn't fall asleep. Everyone else had gone to bed hours ago. Even Willie had drifted off on the couch, their breaths coming out in little adorable hums. But Alex couldn't drift off, no matter how hard he tried.

When he closed his eyes, all he could see were the dark trees, the twinkling lights, the swirling figures, the constant demands for faster, Faster, FASTER! as his hands flew over the drums. And his own body, helpless to do anything but obey. To serve his master. With pure devotion and without question.

Each time the fae went to sleep, Alex never could. The feeling of suddenly having control of his own limbs was too odd. Too unfamiliar. Too much.

And now it was like that all the time. If he wanted to stand up, he could. If he wanted to stay exactly where he was, no invisible strings stopped him. It was incredible. It was freeing. It was terrifying.

Because with no one to tell him what to do and where to go, no intangible hand on the back of his neck directing him, how could he know if he was doing it right?

The Molinas had been kind so far. They'd allowed them to live in their garage, eat their food, even loaned them some of the father's old clothes to wear. They'd shown them the magic of new technology, though that wasn't always the smoothest lesson. Alex grimaced at the memory of when sparks had suddenly begun to fly from the microwave because Luke had put that...tinfoil? stuff inside with his food. The Molinas had been upset but hadn't hurt them over it. They'd been kind. But the fae had been kind at first too.

At first, Alex had wondered if he'd died, alone in the forest, and was in some form of afterlife. He was offered food and fine clothing and music by the effervescent beings that inhabited this new plane. They'd enjoyed his drumming and hadn't seemed to mind when his eyes drifted to a young man with dark hair and a smile that made Alex's heart skip a beat.

They had been kind and welcoming to him. Until he made a mistake.

Things changed after that. Who was to say that wouldn't happen again? That the Molinas wouldn't run out of patience with him and he wouldn't become a prisoner and an outcast yet again.

Alex knew it would happen. It had happened with his first two homes, why not this one? So if he wanted to stay here, with his family and his lover, he couldn't make any mistakes. Couldn't give them any reason to throw him away like the used toy he was. But how could he know what was wrong if no one was directing his every move?

He couldn't. So he was doomed.

"Alex?"

Alex jumped, almost losing his footing on the dark tiles of the house roof. He whirled around to see Julie, the girl who had first found them, staring at him through an open, second-story window.

"What are you doing out on the roof?" she asked, blinking rapidly.

Oh. Well, this must be it. Alex thought he could hold out a bit longer.

"I'm so sorry, I know I shouldn't be on the house," he said quickly, holding out hope that maybe she would at least let him stay till morning. "I couldn't sleep and I didn't want to wake anyone and I knew there weren't any bedrooms around here so I just... I'm sorry-"

"Woah, slow down," Julie said, cutting him before he could say anything else. "No need to be sorry, you're not doing anything wrong, I just... wasn't expecting to see you sitting on the roof of my house at 3 am."

"Oh," Alex said, because he wasn't sure what else to say. She wasn't upset?

"Also, I know you have the whole-" Julie waved a hand around helplessly, "-magic thing going on, but hanging out on the roof isn't exactly the safest spot."

Alex shrugged. "I didn't think anyone would care," he replied honestly. Willie might be a little sad if he fell off the roof and broke his neck, but they'd get over it. There were so many people in the world to love, Willie wouldn't be alone for long.

Julie frowned. "Of course we would care if you got hurt," she said, like it was the simplest thing in the world. "You did see how freaked my dad got the other day when Reggie burned himself on the stove, right?" She took a deep breath, then added, "You guys may not have come into our lives in a very...traditional way, but you're family now."

Alex was helpless to do anything but stare at her. Because, well, 'family' by blood wasn't something he had much respect for, but the way she said it felt more like when Luke called them that, back before they escaped. Like it actually meant something real.

"Note to self, Alex has even bigger trust issues than I thought," Julie muttered around a yawn. Then she offered him a hand. "Come on, we can crash on the couches downstairs and watch a movie or something. Just chill out for a bit."

It felt like a trap. A personal invitation into someone's space had always been a trap in the fae realm. But...maybe that wasn't how it was here? At least not with Julie?

Alex bit his lip, but accepted her hand and clambered in through the open window.

"Come on, I need to show you Dirty Dancing," Julie decided, keeping hold of his hand as she closed the window and led him downstairs. "I think you'll love it!"

And Alex did. Or at least he loved the first 30 minutes of it that he was awake for.

[toxintouch]

Kinktober speedrun time! Used the Mirror prompt on this list. Thank you for the inspo! Further details below the cut so that the above the cut stays safe for anyone who is just scrolling through!

18+ Content MDNI || Dom!Reader x Leander

PROMPT/KINK(S): Dom!Reader, Mirror Use. Edging/Orgasm Denial + Light Degradation & Name calling (Leander being referred to as a dog but he’s really into it, promise) + Power Exchange & Sub/Dom Dynamics

OTHER INFO: Leander has a dick, anatomy of Reader/POV Character remains unspecified; "they" pronouns used.

Leander has the straight backed posture of a man who was given etiquette lessons.  His mannerisms speak of wealth and class, yet they can’t help but observe that he looks completely comfortable while down on his knees.

His back muscles flex as he works himself, sweat slipping down his spine, pooling in the dimples just above his ass.  He’s strung tight, the veins in his arms straining as he strokes a quick, even rhythm.  His dick is flushed a painful red, copious amounts of pre-cum dripping down his wrist and splattering onto his thick thighs, some of it even dirtying the floor below when his strokes become too enthusiastic.

(They wonder how best to make him clean it later–he does so love to be ordered to lick up his own mess–but this floor is probably just as filthy as anywhere else in the Wick, despite appearances–and they don’t think they can find it in themself to make use of his mouth again after watching that.)

The full length mirror hanging in front of Leander is a new addition to the room. Something they’d wheedled out of him with nothing but an easy promise, whispered into his ear down at the bar.  It was theirs not a full day later: a polished brass antique with a priceless clear finish.

His back is to them, but they can see everything they need to by gazing at his reflection.

His strokes stutter, faltering, and they watch as his abdominals jump rapidly. His hand makes a few more shaky attempts before he stops himself with a shudder, breathing hard and squeezing his cock at the base to cut off his own orgasm. They give a little hum of approval, waiting.

“Count.”  They prompt, when he fails to remember on his own.  

They watch his throat bob with effort as he swallows, his jaw trembling around his answer.  “Five.”

“Good boy,” they say, their voice flat and unrewarding.  Dismissive. "Guess that Hightown education really paid off for you, huh?" He whines at that, his palms slicking along his thighs, awaiting their instruction.  He glances at them in the mirror, eyes hopeful. “Again,” they prompt, “and keep your eyes on yourself until I tell you.  During, too. You were closing them a lot. It's just you and the mirror until you've earned otherwise.”

Bites his lip, beginning to stroke himself again.

The next edge comes more quickly.

His eyebrows draw up, mouth falling open, back arching.  His cock jumps and this time he falls back onto his hands to keep from giving into temptation.  His eyes travel the length of the mirror, his neck taught with tension as he pants.  They notice his gaze darting along their form for a moment, greedily stealing along their silhouette in the looking glass. A quick glance of the place where their legs are splayed open as they lounge on the bed behind him, toying with themself idly.

He’s back to form so seamlessly, he probably thinks they didn’t even notice. The next number falls out of his mouth without prompting, as if to cover for his earlier sleight.

"..."

“Baby,” he whines, fidgeting without further instruction. His fingers return to his dick when they don't reply, ghosting over his wet, swollen cockhead.  He knows they hate the way that epithet sounds in his voice, the condescending lilt he manages to wrap around the syllables. “Sweetheart. Please, may I–”

“Bad dog,” they admonish.  They don't elaborate–let him figure out for himself which breach of protocol they're scolding him for.

“Again. And if you can’t behave, I’ll have to put you outside.”

18+ Master List | SFW Master List ✦Kinktober Speedrun on Ao3

Consider: this type of power play with yandere!Leander...you watching him when he's usually the one watching you...

[nobodybetterlookatme]

Guess who didn't get to go home 😭

[scalproie]

my extremely corny and indulgent but satisfying and symbolic ideal scenario for Kazuya and Jin to fully Break The Cycle™️ would be for one of them to grab and save the other from falling off a great height. perhaps even a cliff.

[hide-your-bugs-away]

Thank you to the state of Ohio and English record producer Mickie Most for giving me a wonderful eclipse day, yesterday 🙏

[todayisafridaynight]

It's been wonderful being able to talk about these things for me too! I haven't really had the opportunity since Y7 came out, so I'm positively buzzing. And no worries about the tone of your post about Daigo's article haha, I appreciate it when issues are pointed that I might've missed otherwise since that's at least something actionable.

But I'm obviously not going to stop anyone from venting frustrations with the wiki or with Fandom as a platform; I frequently find myself frustrated too! It's one of the things that keeps people editing the wiki. I'm honestly fine with whatever as long as it's not accusing us of being fujoshi for the billionth time lol, but for better or worse I do like to clarify what we're trying to do if there's any confusion.

Speaking of, Mine's relationship tags are kind of a funny story! So a lot of them have these dotted underlines and question marks, right? You're supposed to be able to hover over underlined terms to see a short definition (on desktop) and click the question mark to see an article with all the definitions on mobile, since hover actions aren't possible on a touchscreen.

But since the article was and still is under construction, Fandom doesn't show the link to logged-out users. So I had no idea it just looks like we're saying the tag is ambiguous lol. It's up now though, so it's hopefully easier to understand what we're trying to do!

I just found it funny I specifically added that feature to reduce confusion. Half the grief we get over Mine's "romantic interest" tag is because people assume we're saying it's mutual (we chose the term to try and avoid the "mutual" connotations of "love interest," but I guess that didn't work out). I also thought it might help with somewhat esoteric tags like "co-parent" (which was put in place for Jo and Arakawa and then I kept thinking of others) and "surrogate son." Turns out it's tough to boil complex relationships down to one term!

I definitely have SO many questions about New Year's Day and I probably always will; for the space of only one night, it's a huge blank. I certainly do have to wonder if shipping Masato off to America was decided then and there. There's a lot that could possibly be expanded on in RGGO (further interactions between Arakawa and Jo included lol), so I've got hope for that too now that we're back to random events. I'd be really interested to see how you'd portray it someday!

Talking about Nakai and Tsutsumi reminded me, Nakai mentioned he read the whole script in a day so he "wouldn't do a disservice to Arakawa or Sawashiro's characters." That kind of stuck out to me precisely because there are so few scenes between them compared to like, Arakawa and Ichi, and they're all relatively low-impact in comparison.

Of course, it could be marketing on account of him and Tsutsumi getting to co-star again, or the scenes could simply have stood out to him more for that reason, or he could've had a different impression of the ratios having read the script rather than played the game. But the part of me that makes me want to go Off The Deep End speculating is kind of wondering if there were other scenes planned?

And absolutely! I'm not able to reblog often because the post editor's been crashing whenever I try to tag my posts, but I hope you know I love your work and I'll support pretty much anything you put out! I'm very excited to share my findings as well.

A lot of it's to do with Mine's relationship to Western culture vs. Japanese culture (his "westabooism," basically), so that's specific to him, but there a lot of interesting concepts and theories in Japanese psychology regarding familial bonds, met and unmet emotional needs. They work as an explanation for his probable feelings of alienation from Japanese culture, but I feel they would make for an interesting lens to examine the Arakawas through as well.

I actually hadn't ever considered the similarity with regard to Mine and Jo's dads, but that makes so much sense! If I were to take it a step further, I think feelings of "abandonment" by their fathers have had long-lasting effects on both them and Masato. Jo we've been talking about, his father was technically still "there," but he wasn't in his corner, which feels much the same as abandonment to a child.

I think Mine's internalized a lot of the same feelings even though his father never meant to abandon him (I guess Jo's may not have, necessarily; alcoholism can destroy a family whether the individual wants that to happen or not). Like, unfairness, displacement, lack of control, the loss of the only support you have and so on. I think dwelling on that is what sent Mine's mental state spiraling, and what made it imperative to just believe Daigo was "dead" to try and move on as soon as possible. He didn't want to be hurt the same way again.

It's also probably what he was projecting in his ridiculous villain speech during The Orphanage Scene; the reason offering kids support in the way Kiryu does is a form of "victimization" in his eyes, at that moment, is because that support can be ripped away from you at any time. The scene is kind of hilarious to me because it's like, "okay we need Mine to have a kick-the-dog moment, his actions have been too understandable," but I do get it from that angle.

Similarly, I think those feelings of abandonment are why Arakawa faces the brunt of Aoki's abuse, because it's like, "YOUR negligence is why I had to go through all of that." So I get why Jo, like your sister, wouldn't want the finger pointed at him, but at the same time… damn. Perhaps if Arakawa had never had that talk with Masato, things might've been different. I get the impression he wouldn't be able to endure keeping things to himself for as long as Jo, though, given things like the letter he sent Ichi in prison.

Oh, yeah, Jo is CRAZY protective of Masato too! "If anything happens to him, killing you a thousand times would be insufficient!" I think part of his overreaction to having Masato's money is also that if Ichi can't listen to orders that fundamental, who's to say he listened to the orders to keep Masato safe? I guess if you see Ichiban as incompetent to the point of almost being a malicious actor, you might think that.

I'm sooo so glad you've noticed the rest of those similarities haha, I've been rotating them around in my brain like a cube for ages. A Venn diagram would be so fun to see! That's such an insightful look at the differences between Mine and Jo's offices too. I was a little confused about the placement of the social spaces, or even that they're there, but if you look at it as clearly separate from his personal spaces, it does make sense.

Also, not to harp on the books in the offices too much, but I compared the textures a little earlier. Mine's are basically all (very expensive) encyclopedias and language phrasebooks in English, Italian, French, and German, in contrast to Jo's discrete hardcovers and series of art history books. They're probably all stock assets lol, but I think they're surprisingly good fits; Mine dumping considerable time, money, and energy into his fascination with Western culture and Jo being the type to not want people to know what he's reading totally works for me.

But yes! It's kind of funny, because Yokoyama wasn't much of a Mine fan in his early days, but I hope he and the others keep on writing characters like him. I think of it as Mine's "legacy" in a series where past characters aren't acknowledged too often; the most I can recall are that Hakuho mention in 4 and the fencing around the Touto roof perimeter.

Speaking of, I love Mine's missed shots in the finale specifically because he's an excellent marksman in his Okinawa character story. Why? How? Who Knows, He's Perfect. (Probably not as good of a shot as Daigo though lol)

And yeahhh, there are other interviews, but it ain't the same! It was the most in-depth one I know of. I think this is one of the only remnants, and I shall entrust it to you.

But yes, exactly! And I'm also glad Y7 introduced more people to them (myself included), Tsutsumi's my favorite actor of all time and Nakai's brilliant. They make a great combi! Of the things I've seen where they co-star, I think Princess Toyotomi and Hero SP are both solid; the latter is a special for a longer show, but I honestly didn't even notice lol. Musashi I wasn't personally able to get through even though I've read the book, so I'm not sure how it plays out between them.

Also I DIDN'T KNOW TORU DIED IN PURE??? That came out of nowhere oh my god T___T But if you're ever looking for anything rare, feel free to ask! I might know a guy (gender neutral) with a stash, Fly, Daddy, Fly included.

OH MAN MINE'S WIKI ENTRY I've definitely made my opinions about it known, but now knowing the truth behind it it's kind of funny and still so unfortunate. I'd almost want to recommend a section dedicated to the topic since it's such an integral part of his character, though I also understand wanting to keep the wiki strictly to factual information and to exclude speculation (or "speculation" anyhow- it's definitely more of a concrete situation, especially going off of the information provided in your pinned post on the topic. If anything, that sort of information would belong to the "Trivia" tab wouldn't it- but again, it's such a deep situation it can't really be summarized in one or two sentences) and the topic being too niche to have a page dedicated to it. It's nice to know that the subject isn't trying to be brushed under the rug though and it's just a matter of awkward formatting/incomplete work!

Furthermore on The New Years Event, I would LOVE RGGO to expand on the topic since they've been so liberal with the stories they make and the depth those stories add to the characters. Honestly, I was expecting Masato's card to have that as its accompanying character story, so it's unfortunate that he doesn't get it or any story as far as I'm aware (or maybe he does have one and my poor pull luck has just prevented me from getting the card to find out myself, but I've looked as much as I could and couldn't find an upload of it). Oh well, I guess it's the old "if you want something done you gotta do it yourself-" not that anything I could make could ever be up to scratch, so I'm glad I do have people interested in what I have in mind :)

About Nakai, I wouldn't feel wrong trying to accredit his comment to a time before he knew the full plot or saw the full game and was just debriefed on the general story/character relationships, and I also wouldn't put it past RGG to have deleted scenes/ideas (if those do exist, RGG please let me in your vault I'd like to take a peak...)!

The psychology of Mine is another topic I've been wanting to officially tackle for a while now, so I'm glad I have this chance to share some of what I have mental bullet points for.

Moreover, Mine's dad and how he "left" Mine undeniably impacted him significantly beyond physically leaving him alone, and it definitely manifests in The Orphanage Scene and his idea that killing Daigo would be "putting him out of his misery". In those instances, he sees Daigo and the orphans as victims of an unfair reality, Daigo being comatose, and the orphans having the endure the struggles of being orphans (and that added-on, projected anxiety that their comfortable lives now could vanish at any second like it did for Mine). Mine's mustache-twirling villainy is funny for its absurdity, but I also genuinely appreciate it since it lets us peak into his warps philosophy better. It doesn't justify his actions by any means, but it explains to us why he can justify his actions as from a place of love or pity as opposed to thoughtless evil.

To add on, Mine's relationship with his father, from what we're allowed to gather, was healthy and positive. Because of their positive relationship, the removal of such adds credence as to why Mine's desperate to get that love again. It especially makes sense considering Japan's horrendous attitude and negligence towards orphaned children that was even demonstrated during Mine's childhood while his father was alive.

And as an inverse aside, Jo's relationship with his dad was toxic, whether it was due to blatant abuse or combined negligence. It's fair to assume that Jo never got to experience genuine, secure love growing up, so as a result, it's not something he actively seeks out. He's been without it long enough that it's not something he necessarily craves like Mine who used to have it until it was taken from him.

Masato certainly makes it clear he felt isolated despite the efforts Jo and Arakawa repeatedly went through for him, and it's apparent it's an unfortunate side affect of internalized ableism. It definitely doesn't help anyone's case that Masato had seemingly been informed of the night of his birthday's events (from Arakawa's point of view, obviously), and it's clear that knowledge gives ammunition as to why he resents him.

You're right on Jo potentially seeing Ichi as a bad actor, it's not as if he has disdain for him for no reason! Like even if Ichiban hadn't taken Masato's money the way Jo could have imagined, the idea that Ichi can't be responsible in one avenue can easily lead back to Ichi having the potential to look after Masato, especially when he seems to be the one who predominately looks after him when he's tasked to.

I've already got my program open to make my little chart and have my reference pictures ready, so hopefully I can have that silly thing out soon haha- I'm glad you're interested in seeing it, and I hope other people will like to see it too! Jo and Mine really are my favorite antagonists, so it's funny (and I guess not surprising) that they have parallels to them.

To add on to that though, I think it's fun to look at the extra details, no matter how small; I'm probably more happy than I should be that you looked at their office's books, but I can't help be a fan of the details you found (whether they're generic models or not, I'm running with them- I've done more with less before lmao)! Mine having language books is definitely in-line with his interests, but Jo having art history books is weirdly endearing (and dare I say another point for "these are the same picture" comparing it to Mine's own love for art). Jo being so private to the point of blocking out the binds of the books he owns is so accurate to him and his secrecy, and the concept that he likes to read about art in his spare time is a new favorite concept for me.

Mine really isn't acknowledged much after 4; in comparison to Ryuji and Nishiki, he's remembered throughout the series the least (you can argue the same for Ryuji, but considering he gets a whole new life in Dead Souls, I think it's fair to say that makes up for the mainline series forgetting about him. Though I guess the same could be Mine getting a prominent role as Hijikata in Ishin... Definitely not as cool of a spot as to be a playable protagonist with a machine gun arm if I'm honest). In that, it's great that his likelihood can exist in future characters, and I hope they continue the trend of phenomenal antagonists in LaD8 and onward!

I'm eternally grateful for this frame you've gifted me thank you so much- Nakai's smile is such a blessing honestly, I'm glad if anything survived from the interview it can be this shot at least.

I've got Princess Toyotomi and Hero SP added to my watch list, DEFINITELY something I'll be excited to check out as a reward once I have all my important business taken care of this week! Honestly, I haven't seen Musashi either: while I was looking through their filmography I saw it was a project they did, but I've always been bad at watching long series so I didn't take the time to see their performance together.

For things I have seen though... yeah he dies SORRY IF THAT WAS HOW YOU FOUND OUT </3</3 Honestly I didn't expect myself to love the series as much as I did (admittedly it was predominately because of the leads and their relationship), but when it happened I was both- dare I say crushed- a little humored a little funny in a dark-comedy way.

And if you do have access to harder-to-get films, I'd absolutely be interested in hearing about it. One of Nakai's movies Good Morning Show has been haunting me for weeks: it sounds like such a fun movie yet I can't find it anywhere </3

[lxnarphase]

g. satoru who is a massive pervert and constantly whines for you to let him touch you all the time, even when you're both around others. you've lost count of how many times he grabs you and pulls you into his lap, his warm hands slipping under your shirt while sitting next to g. suguru, who's attention is no longer on the tv.

'he doesn't mind,' satoru always comforts you, grinning into the skin of your neck. 'sugu's my best friend, he knows i can't help but touch you, baby.'

best friend or not, that doesn't explain how you always ended up with your legs spread open wide in satoru's lap, your jeans and panties discarded somewhere on the floor as suguru kisses all over your thighs. the two of them talk like you aren't even there, as if you aren't growing wetter as each second passes.

"satoru," suguru purrs, his fingers running up and down your soft lips, parting them open to watch slick slowly drip out of you. "you must be doing something else to her. i've never seen it get wet so quickly." the way he speaks so calmly makes you dizzy. it's unfair, so fucking unfair how calm and collected suguru is when he's inches away from your pussy, those pretty purple eyes focused on it.

"yeah? 's wet?" it's also unfair how riled up it gets satoru, seeing his pretty baby getting shy because his best friend is rubbing his fingers up and down her slick folds. "she's so messy, isn't she? she's the prettiest little pussy," he coos into your ear. that gets a chuckle from suguru, his eyes finally looking at you. "always the one to talk to the pussy and not about it, aren't you, satoru?"

his fingers finally focus on your clit, rubbing little circles into it. both you and satoru look pretty from this angle, suguru notices. the pure need and shyness on your face paired with that manic desperation on satoru's...it's a perfect picture, one he wants saved forever. maybe next time you'll let him take some pictures...after all, he needs a new background for his phone.

"c'mooon, sugu...give her a kiss? c'mon, c'mon, give that cunt a kiss, tell me how sticky 'n' wet she is," satoru fucking begs, acting as if he's the one spread open and dripping. but you second the thought, giving suguru the prettiest little puppy eyes.

"anything for you, princess," he coos softly, leaning down and pressing a little kiss on your clit. it's so light you barely feel it but then he's peppering kisses on it, your wetness starting to get on his lips and making each press of his lips sticker and wetter. "s-sugu-!" before you can even beg for more, his mouth is on you. his tongue is so wet and hot on your cunt, it feels like he was drooling for you.

"does she taste good? how wet is she, suguru, c'mon, tell me, tell me how that pussy tastes, pretty please?"

"mm, satoru, it's almost as if you wanted to be between her legs."

"who wouldn't? she's so pretty, she's squirmin' so cutely, my pretty baby, my needy little mochi, her pussy's always so creamy and warm and messy, god, i miss it right now."

"shit...stop talking like that, you're gettin' me flustered, should i-"

"s-sugu, please, keep going," you so politely ask. it's unbearable how cute you are, it's taking everything in him to keep being nice, to keep treating your cunt nicely. he knows satoru is mean and practically bullies your pretty slit almost every day, but he wants to be the nice one, the one who you go to when your 'toru' is being too mean. yet, you're making it so fucking hard when you look at him with lidded eyes that beg him to be rougher with you...

but he knows he's done for when satoru whispers something in your ear that has your eyes fluttering a bit and gets a pretty little gasp from you. those gorgeous eyes—oh, do you have little tears in them too?—connect with his and he's fucked.

"s-suguuu, please," you coo to him, moving your legs to hook over his shoulders and pull him closer to the apex of your thighs. "i need your mouth on my pussy r-really bad, please don't tease me." you take a pause and squeeze your eyes shut, whining a little as satoru coos for you to keep going. "g-give my...my messy cunt attention, suguru..."

suguru shakily sighs and the next thing you know, his mouth is smushed against your pussy, his tongue hungrily swirling against your clit as his hands grab onto the fat of your thighs. he doesn't know what gojo told you in order to hear you say that, but he's silently thanking him as he messily sucks and slurps at your juicy cunt.

it's so hot, all it takes is a few swipes of his tongue and you're gushing everywhere. suguru lowers his head to dip into your hole and he moans. he missed this, missed the sweet taste of your juices on his tongue as you squirmed and moaned for him, your boyfriend's best friend.

"fuck, i-i can hear how wet she is," comes satoru's pitiful whine, his hand dipping down to swipe at your clit as suguru focused on lapping up everything that dripped out of you. "lemme help, lemme help, wanna help you get her creamy, sugu." the feeling of suguru groaning into your puffy folds has you keening, arching your back against satoru's chest. oh, he's in heaven watching you both. "yeah, you didn't know she could cream, didya? put your fingers in her, sugu, put 'em in that sticky little pussy 'n' angle up."

reluctantly pulling his mouth off you with a wet sound, suguru slips two of his fingers in you. he doesn't miss the cry of his name, but he really doesn't miss the delirious giggle and moan when he angles his fingers up, rubbing against that spongy spot.

"f-fuck, she's dripping..."

"go on, fuck her with your fingers, you know you wanna see her make a mess. make her fucking cream, suguru, get her prepped. maybe t'day she'll let you put it in...oh, based on your face, she just clenched on your fingers, yeah?"

his fingers are still swirling around your clit, his other coming down to press on your abdomen. he can hear you getting wetter, your little whimpers turning to moans as you slur their names desperately. he wants you to lose all thoughts, only able to think about him and suguru...yeah, he wants you all soft and sweet so he and his best friend can try and slip into those warm, slick walls.

"mmn...she's really creaming...god, pretty girl, can you cum for me? i wanna see you cum on my fingers. satoru, move your fingers, the poor thing needs my mouth on her."

"hmmm, suddenly you know what she needs? ehehehe, you're learninggg, suguruuuu!" if you had turned to look at satoru, you'd see the charged look in his eye, blue eyes practically glowing with insanity. his hand grabs a fistful of suguru's hair and pulls his face directly into your cunt, unable to handle any more of this. he wanted to see you cum on suguru's face.

"c'mon, c'mon, kiss it, suguru, make it messy for the both of us. mmh, fuck, listen to you making out with her pussy, s' wet and sticky, isn't it? oohmygod, both of you sound so good, she's gonna cum, sugu, she's gonna cum in your mouth...fuck, i love you both so much, can't wait to see you both fucking each other."

[madamechrissy]

Do I wanna know?

Pairings: Yandere Gojo x Fem reader

Summary: Satoru Gojo knows as soon as he sees you, he'll do anything to have you, but first? He needs you to need him. Ignoring his friendly offer to let you stay with him to save up for a better place, you soon find yourself kicked out by your landlord, and moving in with Satoru. Every thing seems like it's bringing you to need Satoru more and more... yet he doesn't make a move on you, and soon you start putting things together... is Satoru a stalker?? 9k word count

CW - There are SO MANY lol here we go- gaslighting, manipulation, possessive behavior, stalking, Satoru is so Yandere, teasing and tension, explicit sex, rough sex, face smacking, choking, breed kink, videoing without consent, oral sex (both receiving) trying to baby trap mentions of cum, dirty talk (he calls you a slut a lott lol) and misogyny. SATORU BEING PSYCHO but sexy. It's toxic- Based on this drabble

Comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoy this one! Thank you for 4k followers omg!!!

You’re not sure how you came to be so close to Satoru Gojo so quickly.

It was as if everywhere you were, he popped up in some way, at first you all met at your work, you were a bartender for a pretty elite club, and Satoru came in along with a few of his CEO friends for drinks once. He had tipped you insanely well, this gorgeous man with shocking white hair, and the most intense blue eyes you’ve seen, you couldn’t even describe the color they were.

Satoru Gojo was rich, handsome, friendly, funny, you couldn’t understand why he even asked for your number. You’re a beautiful girl, but he seemed like the kind of man that had women come to him, but not just that, he’s humble and sweet. He messaged you that night even, hoping you got home safe after your shift, and then asking if you’d like to hang out.

When you pictured hanging out, you honestly pictured maybe a date, or something intimate, but it was just coffee the first time, and he asked real questions about you. The next time you all went to a concert he had tickets for, and you had invited him into your apartment when he’d dropped you off, offering a drink to him.

That’s when Satoru saw your shitty little apartment.

He scoffed, walking around while you went to grab two beers, earning a view of your ass that had him shifting himself in his pants, but he was so upset then, he knew where you lived from the outside, he’d watched you plenty, but this? It’s a teeny one bedroom nothing, surely he could treat you much better than that, you deserved a penthouse, his penthouse.

He’d been watching you since that night weeks ago, he could not get his eyes off you, you took his breath away when his eyes had shifted up your body in that slutty bartending outfit. God he can’t wait until you’re not allowed to wear that anywhere, until you’re all his, and oh he knows you want him, he sees the desire in your dilated eyes, how your lips part when you look at him.

But not just yet.

Satoru can’t just fuck you, no you need to be his and you need to stay his, never, ever leaving him, and to do that he needs you begging for him. He needs there to be no other ideas in that pretty head of yours, so he decides to be your ‘friend’. Even when you step a little closer, lowering your lashes, eyes drinking him in when you take a sip from your bottle.

Beer? You should have top shelf champagne.

Satoru can do that for you.

“Thank you so much for tonight, Satoru.” You say softly, a hand trailing up his chest then, he tilts his head, blue eyes assessing you hungrily.

“Why live here?”

You blink now. “Well, it’s cheap and safe?”

“Don’t you make good money?”

“Um… yeah but I have student loans out the ass for my failed creative writing degree.” You roll your eyes and sigh, earning his chuckle.

“Failed? Didn’t pass?”

“No, I did but it’s useless I guess now. I should’ve gone into medical and been a little smarter, but I didn’t listen.”

“Is it your passion?” You nod then, with a little smile.

Satoru can make it happen, surely.

“You could always stay with me.” You cough then, you all barely know each other. “I have a huge place, I wouldn’t mind.”

“I could never impose like that. Don’t feel so sorry, Satoru, I swear I’m good here.” You lean in now, Satoru leans down, big hand caressing your face, tilting your chin up, his look so intense you can’t breathe. Breaths come in quick pants as your gaze hits his plush, glossy lips, imagining them everywhere.

“It’s an open offer, if anything happens. I’ll be…” He smirks a bit, leaning even closer, so close you taste the sweetness of his cool breath. “All gentlemanly and everything.”

“Would you be?” He chuckles now, lips just an inch from yours, your chest is rising and falling, heart thudding at just what his touch does. “What if I don’t want you to be one right now?”

“What’re you asking, sweets?”

“I…” The phone rings now, you clear your throat, realizing you were about to beg this almost stranger to fuck you.

What’s wrong with you!?

“I am sorry, let me see who it is.” Satoru smiles good naturedly, but you don’t see the glare from behind you, as he scowls at the phone, seeing another man’s name. You text him that you’re busy quickly, earning a little relief for him.

“Boyfriend?” You whirl around now, eyes narrowing a bit.

“No, um… ex boyfriend. We were together for years though, even in college, so we keep in touch sometimes.”

Satoru’s jaw sets, and something… changes then, confusing you a bit, as he sets his drink down. “Who broke up with who?”

“Um, he did.” Your cheeks heat up now under his scrutiny. “I’m sure you don’t wanna talk about my ex though.”

Oh, he does.

He wants your attention all on him, and not a bit of that should be for your ex, who didn’t even want you!? How could anyone not want you? Your gorgeous face that fucks his dreams up, your perfect body like you’re built just for him, how sweet you are, and those damn eyes of yours. He can’t wait to see them fucked out, to see you drooling.

Can’t wait to make sure you never text this man again.

“Is something wrong?” You ask now, he smirks, brightening his face so you don’t figure out all his thoughts.

“Nah, sweets, just curious who’d break up with you.” His casual words hit hard, as he brushes your hair back now, leaning in again and you think maybe he’ll kiss you finally, but he just stares at you, holding your face with strong hands.

So strong he could really crush you if he wants, you feel so small in his presence, so overwhelming. Then he brushes his lips up and against your cheek, your eyes flutter shut, your body throbbing with need, but he pulls away after the little kiss on your face, those blue eyes glittering now, he grins all bright and beautiful, casually putting his hands in his pockets.

“Well, I’m off now, enjoy your night, huh?” You blink a bit at that, wondering then, is something not to his liking about you? You’re studying yourself in the mirror after he left, picking yourself apart.

Your makeup is perfect still, your outfit is sexy, you look really good, and you’d damn near been begging for him silently. Maybe he wasn’t interested? Then why did he look at you like that? You sigh now, washing your face and getting down to just your bra and panties, picking back up the phone and finally writing your ex back, then seeing a text from Satoru.

Satoru: Had fun, sweets. Good night.

You: I had fun too… you didn’t have to leave so early.

Satoru smirks, still in his car, watching your silhouette from behind your curtains, gently walking back and forth, he glares when he realizes you are likely naked or damn close to it. He is going to have to teach you some lessons, it seems, because you are already trying to show the world what’s his.

Or will be.

Satoru: It was getting late, did you want me to stay?

You: Maybe I did. Thank you for tonight though.

Satoru: No problem, love.

Love… that does something to you, Satoru does something to you, when your head hits the bed and you’re staring up at the ceiling. Your ex texts you again, but this time you ignore it, thoughts whirling, you still feel the touch to your cheek, having fucked you up more than even being intimate with someone.

Satoru Gojo, who was he really?

*****

“Hey, hey… what’s wrong?” Satoru knows what’s wrong, he is all sweet hugs and rubbing your back though when you are at his place the next week, sobbing against his chest.

“I’m so sorry… I… My landlord just kicked me out!? And I did nothing wrong, she said she’s renting it for triple to someone? I was past my lease, but shit.” Satoru smiles, but you don’t see it, buried against his strong chest as he strokes your hair softly, pleased that you came to him.

You’re such a good girl.

“Oh, sweetheart, it's okay. Shh.” He’s consoling you so sweetly, you pull back, seeing his concerned gaze as you blink away tears, swiping at your cheeks.

“I can’t afford three times the rent? Satoru I… I make decent enough money, if I could just pay you for a room until I find somewhere? I-”

“Nonsense.” He cuts you off, and your stomach flutters when he’s brushing a hand across your back, palm pressing into the fabric of your dress, like it’s burning you with a touch. “You stay here for free, save up money, yeah?”

“I can’t do that, I have to pay you something. It’s already a huge imposition-”

“Have you seen this place? It’s not shit to have you here, won’t cost me anything anyway.” You have seen it, his insane penthouse with a view that’s fucking ridiculous. It’s spotless, only the finest everything all over, you know Satoru’s very wealthy as a CEO but he screams old money too.

“I would feel terrible. Could I cook, pick up?”

“I have cleaners. Cooking though… yeah, you good at it?”

You smile tremulously, wiping your eyes again. “I’m so good! I also could give the best neck massages after work?”

“Now that sounds perfect. It’s a deal then, stay as long as you need, but cook yummy things. As for a massage, we’ll see if you’re good as you say.”

“Swear, they’re magic! Oh goodness, I have to get to my shift soon, ugh… is there a way you could help me get my things? I’ll just leave the furniture, it’s old, I can buy new shit.”

“Absolutely.”

You hug him tightly, kissing his cheek then, he tenses at it, at the brush of your lips, at the curves of your body against him. Fuck he can’t wait to make you his.

“Satoru Gojo, you're amazing.” He chuckles then.

“I know.”

*****

Living with Satoru Gojo, who walks around shirtless is… difficult. Your tummy clenches, mouth gulping the first time you see him, his chiseled perfect body, all dewy after a shower. Towel slung across his neck, sauntering over to you with that smirk of his, so casual as you’re in the kitchen chopping up veggies, he brushes his fingertips across your back, driving you insane.

Shivers slink down your spine when he leans over you, breath against your neck, you damn near arch back into him as he murmurs in your ear. “Looks yummy.”

Fuck.

You take a shaky breath, hands trembling as you then nick yourself with the knife, you wince then. “Ow, shit!”

“Lemme see.” He takes your hand gently, peering at the drop of crimson that pushes out in droplets then, the way he takes your hand even is too much.

Weeks of living together, walking around in arguably almost nothing in front of him, and he hasn’t hit on you, despite his eyes devouring you, like they’re touching you. No he’d smile and lazily trail his gaze, maybe brush against you in the kitchen, give you a hug after work, you’d rub his neck just so and he’d grip your wrists, smiling up at you, to the point you’re losing control.

All you can think of is him.

Satoru loves it that way, too, he loves hearing you murmur his name in your sleep, he’s got cameras all over, especially in your room, and he can even hear you on them. Your little whines of pleasure, he’d see how your hands would move under your blankets, as you stayed as quiet as can be, but he heard your whimpers, your sweet little moans.

He strokes his cock every night watching you, listening, waiting.

He needs you to really need him.

“Just a little nick, I’m fine.” You assure him, then your mouth drops as he takes your finger, sucking it into his mouth.

He’s sucking on your damn finger, hot wet mouth and the lewd images destroying the fragile hold you have on your sanity, snowy lashes lowered as he presses his tongue up on your fingertip, putting pressure. You stand there quiet, but then there’s a little sound that escapes your throat, a little whine, and when he pulls back he smiles knowingly.

He licks his lips, a drop of blood on them, tilting his head as he releases your finger now. “Better?”

“Um… y-yes. Thank you, Satoru.” You manage to speak somehow, your voice hoarse, you clear your throat then. “Clumsy.”

“Mind somewhere?”

“Yeah. I guess so.”

Another week goes by, Satoru watches you every chance he gets, when he’s at work he watches you on his phone, he’s got a tracker in yours, for your safety you know, when something concerns him. Your daily trips were work, maybe the store, and a couple times a week the gym. But you’re somewhere he’s never seen you at, and it concerns him then.

Where are you?

He zooms in on the location.

Someone’s house?

Satoru’s jaw tightens then, and when you’re home that night, you notice he’s not friendly, or sweet, or talkative. He barely responds as you try to engage with him, and when you go to rub his neck, he stops your hands with an icy glare. “What’s… did I upset you?”

“How could you upset me?” He stands up, looming so tall, you shrink back just a bit, the backs of your legs hitting the fancy grey couch, until you’re sitting in it, and Satoru’s arms are on either side of you. “How could you, sweets, hmm?”

“I… I don’t know? Um…” Your mouth goes dry when he gets on his knees, spreading your thighs, your breaths coming quicker, pussy throbbing around nothing, thinking of him, feeling his long slender fingers on your skin. “Satoru?”

“You’re a perfect girl, aren’t you? A good girl?” Your hips shift, his eyes dart down, smiling as he peeks under your skirt now, a wet spot forming on your panties, he can’t wait to finally taste you, when you’re good of course.

“Good girl? I… don’t know.” Your hands are at your side, his face is right against yours again, your thighs on either side of his body, pressing into him.

“What’d you get up to today?” He asks, all casual like he doesn’t know, as he assesses your body for marks, bites, hickeys. Your body belongs to him, even if you don’t know it just yet. He finds none, making him just a little less furious, but now he feels the plush of your thighs in his grip, picturing shoving them against your chest.

You’d look so sexy in a mating press, wouldn’t you?

“I um… went to grab dinner, then I gave some shit to my ex that I had left from the apartment.” Satoru exhales in relief.

“Oh yeah? I could’ve helped you, love.”

“No, it’s awkward. I was holding onto it, I decided to just let it go, he didn’t choose me, you know?”

“Who wouldn’t choose you?” You lean forward, his eyes dart to your breasts, as a strap slips over your shoulder.

“Satoru, you're too good to me, and why? How have I come to deserve you in my life?” He exhales, adjusting the strap with two fingers, brushing your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps, he watches your nipples perk up under your tank top, furious that anyone has ever seen them.

“Is that all? You gave him his shit?” He tries to hide his anger, his jealousy.

“That’s all.” You answer, and he stands again, leaving you wanting and empty when he’s not touching you.

“Should have asked me to help. I’m calling it a night, yeah?” You manage a little nod, he tilts your chin up as he stands over you, your body reacting so violently you’re shaking damn near, unable to stop the reaction. He smiles knowingly, leaving you then, and you glare at his strong, perfect back as he walks off, giving you a little look before going to his room.

Satoru knew you saw him somehow? You can swear it. Are you freaking out for no reason? Surely he didn’t care what you did, he maybe just wanted to make sure you were okay, maybe he could sense you were stressed somehow?

Then why is there this gnawing feeling?

*****

The next day you’re trying to get to work, and your car won’t turn over. You curse it out, it’s old sure but it’s strong and has a good engine. Satoru had already offered to give you one of his cars, saying you could pay him back later, as if you could ever afford a Mercedes Benz. You’d turned him down of course, and now he’s standing in his insanely huge parking garage, right out the side of your window.

You open the door, sighing as you get out of the car. “I don’t know what’s wrong with it, ugh!”

“It’s an ancient relic?”

“Hey!” You playfully shove him, laughing then. “It is, I guess. But I don’t know why it won’t start?”

“I’ll have my mechanic check it, he’ll love this archeology.”

“Satoru!” You’re laughing so hard then, god he always makes you laugh, you wish he’d make you moan but you throw those thoughts far back.

“I’m kidding, sweets, kinda.” He narrows those blue eyes, his jaw tensing just a bit then as he assesses your car.

Couldn’t be because he took out your catalytic converter.

“Hmm, maybe a dead battery or alternator went out?” Satoru looks at you amusedly, you’re cute, knowing something about cars. But he needs you to stop worrying about things like that.

“For now, I’ll take you to work, yeah?” You exhale, nodding then.

“Thank you so much, Satoru, you’re so sweet to me.” You say later, as he drops you off at work, top down, grinning with those Gucci shades hiding those baby blues, some of the girls from the bar are out front, they start giggling when they see the two of you.

“He’s so hot!?” One of your friends loudly whispers.

“Shh, I know!” Gojo hears you though, grinning as he swipes a hand through his snowy locks.

“Hello, ladies.” He says, getting out then to come open your door, earning the swoons of everyone. You smile gratefully at him.

“Thank you, Gojo.”

“No worries, tell me when to pick you up, mmkay?” You nod then, he gives you a little kiss on the head, and your friends make no secret of how fine they think he is.

“Is he your man?” Your other friend asks, you shake your head then, while Satoru gets back in the car. “Bitch, why?”

“Is he single?” Your other friend asks.

Something makes you sick then, thinking of seeing Satoru with other women, and surely it would happen soon, yeah? He’s gorgeous and can get who he wants, and he hasn’t yet shown he wants you. You peek back at him as he is starting back up his car, looking at your friend again.

“He’s single.” Satoru wants to laugh at you. He’s not single, you’re his already,  you just haven’t gotten where he needs you.

“Why not date him?”

“He’s not interested. Drop it.” You hiss, waving at Satoru, he tilts his glasses down then, the unreal eyes behind the snowy lashes drinking you in.

“Have a good day, sweets.” He leaves a bunch of giggling, whispering friends and heat on your cheeks when he drives off, grin glinting in the setting sun, because now he knows just where you are.

*****

After two more weeks of living with Satoru, you’re at about a month with him, and despite the endless little brushes against your skin, the little touches while you cook, the hugs and pecks on your cheeks, he never makes a move. You moan just a little louder at night thinking of him, wondering then when you’d see him in the morning why he looked so tired.

You’re wondering about lots of things.

“Satoru, do you date?” You ask one day, and he looks at you lazily, trailing up and down your body the way he does, the way that makes you ache with longing.

“Do I date? I haven’t in a while, why?”

“You’re so… you?” He snorts then.

“What’s that mean?”

“Like, gorgeous? Smart and sweet? Rich? How do you not date?”

“When I get with someone it’ll be permanent, there won’t be any dating or fucking around, so I guess I’m kind of picky about it. Why? Would it make you jealous if I brought a girl over?”

Yes, yes it would.

“Oh, no, I’m cool with whatever. It’s your place, I just live here.” Satoru leans you against the counter then, barring you with strong arms, his thigh brushing between yours, he feels it then, the heat that builds as you shift your hips just a bit, eyes darting up to his.

“Wouldn’t mind if I fucked someone right here? Ya sure?”

“It’s your place.” You manage weakly again, watching thin nostrils flare, his pupils blown out as you shift again, and he feels your hot pussy against his thigh, your hands slipping up his shirt slowly. “You like to fuck, Satoru?”

He blinks now, shifting his thigh, tilting his head as he studies you. “You’re asking if I like to fuck?” You nod, just barely, and one of his hands slips down your side, his cock throbbing under his jeans, thinking about devouring your pussy right on the kitchen counter. He already has tasted you off those panties he stole, he imagines it’s even sweeter from the source. “Do you?”

Your cheeks flush, eyes lowering nervously, Satoru tilts your chin up, making you look right at him. “I didn’t like it much, no, but… I like to…”

“Play with your pussy?” You bite your lower lip, rolling your hips once more, waiting for him to break, but he acts casual as he’s ruining what’s left of your addled mind. “You brought it up, don’t be shy.”

“Yes, I like to. Do you… play with…”

“Slutty questions.” He smirks now, backing up, you look in horror as you realize you’ve left a damn wet spot on his thigh, but he brushes it with his thumb leisurely, lapping it off his tongue, leaving you with your mouth open. “Mmm. Have a good night, pretty.”

You’re shaking when you get to your room, literally dying over him, knowing he’s in the next room but won’t come near you is torture, but for him it’s fun. He’s watching you pace around your room avidly, damn near chuckling when you strip off your clothes so quickly, flopping on the bed and covering your face with your hands, pressing your knees together.

He’ll make you feel better soon, don’t worry.

But then, you pick up your phone, earning his glare that of course you can’t see, he picks up his other phone now, the one that shows him every message and call you make. Some guy has been trying to ask you out for a couple weeks, but you’d ignored him, like a good girl. Now, however… you’re texting him back!?

That just won’t do.

He’s so absorbed in staring at your messages, as you smile just a bit, wondering if there was a way to get under Gojo’s cool exterior.

Maybe a date with someone?

******

You’re dressed in some slinky outfit, it hugs your body just right, hitting about mid thigh, a black lacy little number. You step out of your room, his mouth drops open when he sees you, too much of your smooth skin revealed, your breasts on display for everyone who would see, you smile up at him all pretty and do a little spin as he grips his hands into fists.

He wants to rip that dress the fuck off you, bury his cock inside your pretty little cunt and fuck you hard, fuck you so hard you sob those eyelashes off, so hard your perfect hair is a tangled goddamn mess. Teach you that you’re his and only his, that you belong to him, have you cum so hard you can’t form anymore thoughts of ever leaving in your pretty head.

He can’t even speak when you nervously ask, “How do I look?”

How do you look? You look like you need your ass beat, your clit overstimulated to the point you beg him to stop, look like you need to get that pretty neck choked out by his big hands. And that little smile on your face, like you know just what you’re doing to him? Satoru’s teeth click together, jaw tensing now while he sits there on the desk chair looking at you.

“You look gorgeous. But then you always do.” You blush at that, lashes lowering at the praise. “But why so dressed up? Going out with… friends?”

You know he knows.

You hear it in his voice, in how tense it gets. You smile then, shaking your head, lacing your fingers together in front of you as you feel those blue eyes touching your skin. “No, I’m going on a date.”

Satoru’s little facade breaks for just a moment, he can’t keep it up just now, and it’s like you know, you’re being this little brat and not his sweet little thing right now. He can’t wait to fuck the attitude out of you, as hard as it’s making him. “Oh? A date, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s been a while you know.” You step up to him just a bit, smiling so pretty, devious little brat. “A while.”

“A while.” He repeats, voice hoarse, before realizing you’re trying to play him, aren’t you? “Since?”

“Since anything. This guy seems super nice, maybe he’ll… think I’m hot, you know? Be attracted too? We’ll see.”

“Who wouldn’t want you? That’s stupid.” He huffs.

“Oh, is it? Well I’m not everyone’s type, you know?” You blink those damn lashes at him, he raises a brow. “So we’ll see. But don’t wait up for me, hmm?”

“Don’t you need a ride?” He asks, as you head towards the door, grabbing your little purse now.

“Oh no, he’s going to come get me, don’t worry.” Satoru’s hand stops yours on the knob, hard body pressed against your back, your breath catches, quickening now, watching the veins raise on his hand, as it covers yours completely. “Something wrong, Satoru?”

“Just wanna make sure you’re safe, you should let me take you.”

“Don’t even impose yourself, I’ll be fine.” You turn and look up at him, his plush lips just a breath from yours. “Everything okay?”

“Of course it is, you can text me if you need me to get you though, okay?” You exhale now, slightly dejected.

You want him to say he doesn’t want you to go, fuck you want him to grab you and keep you here, he makes you feel so fucking toxic, the insane thoughts making your mind whirl, your tummy coil with desire. One of his hands grips your hip, and you feel his length against your back, your eyes shut as you grip the door knob so hard it hurts.

“I asked you something, sweets.” His grip tightens, you open your eyes again, looking up at him.

“Of course, Satoru.”

“Have fun then.” He is back to being a bright, happy Gojo, blue eyes glittering, letting you go when you ache for him to drag you against him. “Be safe, yeah? Creeps everywhere, stalkers even.”

He’s following you in his car as soon as you take off in this asshole’s car, he tracks your location and finds you’re at some restaurant, he sees you then, up front at a table shivering a bit in your slutty dress. Part of him thinks, that’s just what you get, but another part thinks, fuck this dude for not giving you his jacket, Satoru sizes him up with a flick of his eyes, fists clenching the steering wheel.

You keep peering at your phone, you don’t look like you’re really having fun, what are you playing at? Are you trying to make him insane, trying to make him more jealous than he already was? He was jealous anyone even fucking saw you altogether, he thinks how good it would be to breed you constantly, to keep you knocked up with his babies, stay at home for only his eyes to see.

The thoughts drive him insane, as does seeing this dude’s hand on your bare thigh now, thighs for him to touch, he is so furious he almost blows his cover, taking several breaths as he prepares to rip this dude’s hands off. How dare anyone touch you!? And then he gets it, your text.

Satoru, I’m so sorry, but are you busy?

Satoru exhales in relief, leaning his head back on the driver’s seat, brushing his hand across his face.

Having fun on your date?

Satoru is being petty but he can’t help it, he sees your cute little glare as you poke on your phone, and his hand slips higher up your leg.

Not really. I’ll be fine though, sorry.

Satoru panics now.

What’s wrong?

He watches as you type.

I feel really uncomfortable, could you please come get me? I’m so sorry to put you out like this…

Satoru comes right out of the car, walking across the street now, and your eyes widen in shock, lips parting as he saunters up, grinning and holding out a hand. “Hey pretty, wanna get out of here?”

“Excuse me!?” The man sputters, but you giggle, Satoru wonders if you’re the crazy one here, him or you?

“I’d love to.” You put your little hand in his, following him to his car then, when Satoru slides in however he cups your face, grip tight on you, his eyes glaring and fucking furious. “How’d you get here in ten seconds? Instant transmission like Goku?”

“You’re such a brat.” He mutters, glaring now as you grin, one hand in your hair, pulling, making you cry out, a sound that makes Satoru’s cock leak precum, just from the sound of you. “You did this it piss me off, hmm?”

“Why would you be mad, Toru?” You put a hand on his thigh now, leaning forward, showing more and more of your breasts. “You don’t even want me like that, haven’t you made it clear?”

He starts laughing now, he’s feral, manic in his insane laugh, pulling your hair even harder. “I don’t huh? Then tell me what the fuck this is?”

Satoru takes your hand putting it over his clothed cock now, you whimper feeling him for the first time, hard for you, his breaths coming faster and faster as you go to stroke him, earning his own throaty moan. “Are you jealous?”

“No, because he’s not shit, and you’re mine anyway.”

“How am I yours!? Don’t even kiss me. Don’t even-”

Satoru yanks you to him, slamming his lips on yours then, devouring your mouth, tongue swiping in every inch of it, swirling as he loses his fragile sense of control. You taste so good, you feel so good, he’s wanted you for so long, he’s brutal with his lips, with his teeth, with how he grips your chin so fucking tight. You’re falling apart for him, then, when he yanks back.

His breath is hot on your lips, his hand slipping between your thighs then, you can’t stop the cry that escapes your lips, when he finds you over your panties, soaking wet for him. “This for me, or for him?”

“Stupid- ah!” Satoru pulls your hair so hard tears prick your eyes, stroking you over your sticky panties.

“Watch that mouth, and that attitude before I fuck it out of you.” His whisper and his touch makes you drip down his fingers, you’re arching your hips as he touches you, pressing on your clothed clit now. “So you get this wet for me?”

“You get that hard from me?” You counter, he laughs again, shaking his head at your audacity, slipping his finger under your panties now, finding your bare cunt.

“Stupid fucking soaked, huh? From a kiss?”

“Just touch me, please…” You’re begging him now, leaning closer, lips pressing against his, drinking his moans when he shoves two fingers in your eager hole, stretching you and making you gasp. “Satoru…”

“Do you deserve to cum, after acting this way?” He demands, curling his fingers up in your slick walls, pressing that spot that has your eyes rolling back, entire body reacting to him, dripping down his sleeves, his watch you’re so wet. “Answer me.”

The first slap on your cheek shocks you with the sting that throbs, you glare at him, slapping him back on his pretty face, earning him gripping your wrist brutal as his fingers fuck into you. The car is heating up right in the middle of the damn street, you hear your pussy squishing, hear your cries and gasps.

“Asked you a question, sweets. Seeing your ex, going on a date, showing off this body to everyone? Ya think you’re a good girl?” You shake your head then, and he groans, kissing you messy, tongues drooling saliva, thumb finding your clit now, and you’re close, so close, clinging to him.

“N-no but… please…” He laughs as he pushes you to the edge, sucking you off his fingers then, groaning, cheeks hollowing.

“Fuck you taste even better than your panties.”

“My what!?”

“C’mere, ya wanna be a good girl for me?” You blink rapidly, nodding then, and he revs up the car, pulling out, you are jostled as he begins to drive like a maniac, you’re grasping him, half thrown on his lap.

“Where are we going?”

“Home. You’re gonna make it up to me, being so slutty, huh?”

“Slutty?”

“Slutty mouth.” Satoru unzips his pants then, and you gulp when you see him for the first time, thick and long, veiny cock so pretty, the tip pink, drooling drops of precum already. You stare at it, he feels it as he drives, peeking at you now, grabbing the back of your hair again. “Put it to use, and I’ll let you cum.”

“Fuck…” You have never done something like this, but you find yourself bent over him then, taking your tongue and lapping at the precum on his tip, while he drives with one hand, his other, entangling against the nape of your neck.

“Gonna be my perfect little slut, no one else's, huh?” You nod eagerly, you’re stupid, this man literally stalked you on your date, he’s acting possessive and psychotic, but your pussy is clenching around nothing. “Say it.”

“Your perfect little slut.” You whisper, he moans then, husky and guttural as you suck him in your mouth now, hot and wet, swirling your tongue around the ridge of his tip, earning his hips bucking, cock twitching.

“That’s it, I knew you could behave. There you go, good girl.” You’re trembling, sucking him deep in your throat, over and over as your cunt is drooling, dripping down the panties that are becoming soppy wet and pathetic like you. “Feel that slutty mouth, never gonna suck anyone again, are you baby?”

“Mmm…” You’re moaning eagerly, sucking his cock as deep as you can, he’s shoving your head fully down to where you’re slobbering all over him, tears pricking your eyes, you’re shaking while he uses your throat, your mouth, as your taste his salty precum, shoving it in your throat deeper and deeper.

“F-fuck… you’re finally being good, huh? Bet you wanna cum, bet your pussy is soaked, yeah?”

He knows you can’t answer, he’s loving the choked out sounds you’re making as you suck him down more and more, until he finally pulls up to his house, he pulls you off him, cock glittering with your saliva. He moans, kissing you again, teeth sinking into your lip, tasting himself off your tongue, you’re whining, trembling, he chuckles just a bit then.

“Look at you, sucked it that good? Should I fucking be mad?” He demands then, you gasp at his touch on your pussy again.

“It’s been a long time for me, okay?” You whisper, he exhales now.

“No one will touch you again when I’m done, yeah? No one.” You nod weakly, Satoru smiles now. “Good, you’re so good f’me.”

Satoru’s got you in his penthouse so quickly you’re disoriented, and as soon as the door is closed behind you, he grabs you, slams you against the wall, and kisses you again, hard and desperate. His hands slips down to your ass, squeezing it roughly in his big palms, long fingers pressing in as he takes over everything, making you moan into his mouth.

You can feel his cock pressing against your tummy now, thick and insistent, on your tummy, half put up, his pants unzipped, and you can’t help but arch into him, rubbing against him, tip toeing to get close. He’s so rough with you, so demanding, and it’s making you wetter, making your body respond in ways it never has before, it’s insane what he’s doing to you.

He shoves a hand back up your dress, twisting your panties to the side again, rubbing in teasing circles, as tears fall out of your eyes, looking at them and moaning. “You’re crying?”

You manage a sniffle, fuck you looks so perfect like this, in tears for him, it only makes Satoru’s cock spurt more precum, so hard it hurts, he can’t wait to bury it so deep in you, he’s picturing it as he slides his fingers into your soaked cunt. You moan loudly, you’re tiny hands clinging to him, leg around his hip, letting his fingers fuck you deeper.

“Hear it? You’re so loud, so messy, huh?” He’s whispering, all you can do is nod, pupils so blown out your eyes are dark. “Look at you, fucked out from my fingers? That won’t do, baby.”

You barely register his fingers sliding out of your pussy again, you whine at the emptiness, but then he’s on his knees, shoving your dress up over your hips, yanking your panties off you. He’s throwing one of your legs over his shoulders, bright blue eyes staring up under his snowy lashes, you’re clinging to his hair, chest rising and falling as he places a kiss on your pussy.

“You were so good, I’ll treat you so good, hmm? Make you feel s’good?” You just nod, earning a smack on your pussy, making you gasp. “What do we say, little slut?”

“Please.” Satoru Gojo then his face buried between your legs, his tongue sliding along your slit, tasting your arousal that starts pouring down his mouth. You gasp as he nibbles on your clit, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh, sending bolts of pleasure through your body.

He’s eating you out like he’s starved, slutty moans from both of your throats, your head slamming against the wall. His stupidly long  tongue is moving in circles around your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of you, and you can’t believe how good it feels. You’ve never been with a man who’s so hungry for you, who devours you like this, his fingers making your squelching wetness even louder.

Your hands entangle in those silky white locks as he fingers and licks like he’s always known how to, but it comes so natural, flicking his tongue against your little twitchy clit over and over. Your cunt is so wet his fingers slip, before shoving back in, pressing your spongy spot inside your little hole, all while you’re a pathetic mess, sniffling and hiccuping.

He can’t wait to make you stupid for him, beyond this, beyond anything, can’t wait to own you, possess you in every fucking way. As he sucks your tiny clit in his hungry mouth, he moans against it, looking up and watching you shatter for him. You’re so close to cumming, you can feel it building.

“Gonna cum, please, please-” You whine out, gasping, thighs shaking as you’re too weak to stand, but then he stops, leaving you gasping for breath, your body on the edge, pulsating all over through every vein..

“Beg for it.” He orders, sadistic smirk on a face half soaked with you, as he licks his lower lip, glossy.

“Please, Satoru, please make me cum.” You whisper, your voice shaking, and he groans, shocking you when he yanks you down, you slam onto the ground wincing and gasping as you hit the floor, and he starts palming at your dress, until he’s ripped it completely off you. “Satoru!? What!?”

Your dress is in pieces now, much to his pleasure, all you have now is what’s left of it under you, and you’re naked aside from heels and a bra. “You’ll never wear that fucking dress again, got me? Showing off what’s mine when I wasn’t even with you? Do you hear me?”

You nod then, you should be terrified, but fuck you want him too much, as he shoves your thighs up high, then dives back in, his tongue swirling around your clit, his teeth grazing it again as he bites it. You scream out at the pain, he shoves those fingers back in, three this time.

“Too much, too much!” You’re sobbing out, and he laughs now.

“No baby, your slutty pussy can take it, huh? Lemme hear you scream my name.” He shoves his fingers in so deep and his tongue is drinking you as your orgasm hits you, your body convulsing against his mouth, your juices flowing onto his face, everywhere.

You can hear him, lapping you up, drinking every bit, all while the best orgasm of your existence makes you blind, you’re floating, the only thing that tethers you is when he looks down at you, fingers still buried. He slams his lips back on yours, you taste your pussy on his lips, whimpering and clinging to him desperately, bare as he’s fully dressed.

“You’re made for me, only me to taste, just me.” You just nod, and he chuckles, shaking his head. “Can’t talk baby?”

“You, jus’ you… Toru…” He’s picked you up to stand, before he’s pulling you up against him, holding your naked frame against him, carrying you to your bed now, lips not coming up for air until he’s tossed you on your bed.

“Bra off, now.” He orders, you do as he says, tossing it and then peeking at the camera you know is there, smiling before you look back at him. He’s glaring, unbuttoning his dress shirt now. “Looking at something?”

“Oh, nothing. Do you record? Will you stroke yourself to this later?” He slips off his shirt, leaving you speechless until he’s laying on top of you again, eyeing your perfect tits and little smile.

“You knew?” You tilt your head now, leaning up on your elbows, a hand stroking his cheek.

“Did you like how I played with my pussy in front of it? How I moaned your name?” Satoru’s ended now, scowling at you.

“You liked it, being watched? By me?” You nod again, swallowing as he slides off his pants, yanking off your heels, kissing along the tops of your feet before lapping at your ankles. “You did it knowing?”

“You wouldn’t come to me.”

Satoru’s eyes are on you, you’re his entire world now, his obsession, his fixation. He’s going to claim you, fuck you until you forget every other man who ever existed. He’s going to ruin you, and you’re going to love it, he can already tell when his cock is hot and heavy against your inner thigh, when your hips are rolling up, and you’re dripping down the bed.

“You get off on it, me being fucking obsessed, huh?” You nod weakly, and Satoru has your thighs spread and pressed up, his tip drooling precum against your aching hole. “Then let me be clear, you'll never see or date anyone again, got it?”

Satoru grins sadistically as you weakly nod, whispering a-  “Yes, Satoru.” He moans then, filling your tight hole in one stroke of his huge cock, stuffing you so full you scream out, pussy gripping him like a vise, drooling down his veiny cock to his balls, pooling under you both as his own eyes roll back.

“Feel her, made f’me, just me? Mine, mine, mine.” He’s whispering it like some insane mantra as he begins to move, fucking into your soppy cunt over and over, you’re pulsing and fluttering around him as he pounds your cunt, nasty words spilling from his pouty lips. “My little slut, hmm? Mine.”

“Ngh…” Is all you manage, when he slams your cervix with his drooly tip, leaning up to grip the headboard and pressing a thigh higher, railing your cunt so much it hurts, but you’re dying, drool pooling out of the side of your lips, eyes fluttering, trying to stay open.

“That’s it, oh look at you, fucked stupid already? I’m just starting with you, baby, gonna fuck your pretty mind up till it’s all me.” He leans down, rolling his hips and grinning with his eyes lit up, so dark they look black for just a moment. “That’s it, cum all over my cock, can’t help yourself huh?”

You do then, you’re cumming all over him, muscles contracting around his cock so hard she tries to push him out with the force, so much wetness dripping it’s streaming across his cock, earning his breathy moan. He’s fucking you through your orgasm, your thighs shaking, you are stupid, you can’t form one thought in your pathetic brain as your orgasm waves over your body.

“Aw, fucked dumb? Poor stupid baby. I’ll keep fucking all those thoughts out of your head, hmm? Till it’s just me.”

“Satoru… jus’ you… s’good I…” You can’t talk anymore, not when his cock’s strokes are hitting just right, not when his tip drags against your gspot before bruising your cervix. You’re clinging to him, nails pressing into his strong back, as pulls back, watching your tummy bulge.

“Fucking up your guts, fucking up your brain. S’all me, huh?” You can’t answer, you’re too fucked out, but his slap brings you too, he smacks both cheeks, gripping your thighs brutal, leaving bruises. “Focus, baby, focus.”

“S’all you…” You answer, you’re so obedient, you’re so good for him.

“You’re such a good girl, perfect pussy, perfect body. Perfect face. Haunting my every fucking thought, torturing me.” He shoves your thighs high, pressing them against your breasts, folding you in half and bottoming out, you scream at it, hands gripping the sheets beneath you as you’re stretched and filled so much. “You’re so good you deserve all my cum, all these babies in you.”

You can’t register concern, he’s pounding you while gripping your face so tightly, you feel so tiny as he works his long, muscular body, as he breaks your body and mind with his cock, slamming harder and harder. You hear the sounds of it, the smack smack smack of his skin, as his balls slap your asshole, covered in slick from your cunt that’s drooling down his length.

“That’s it, milk my cock, so fuckin good, you want it, me to fill you, make you drip me for days.” You just weakly cry out, sniffling, tears pouring down your cheeks. “So beautiful like this, crying f’me? Oh baby, you’re perfect like this.”

Satoru loves your tears, your trembling lips, as you grip him so good, he feels it, you’re going to cum again, eager pussy sucking him in loudly, as he fucks you so hard the headboard slams the wall, you’re barely hanging on, sobbing and mumbling. You’re so fucked out it’s cute, opening and closing your mouth, unable to speak.

“It’s all me in there, yeah? Gonna be all me, gonna fill you so good, baby just wait, f-fuck!” Satoru slows then, pumping your cunt full, hot gooey cum sticking to your walls and making you cum right with him as he fucks it further, deeper.

“Satoru!” You’re mumbling his name, gasping for breath as he fills you, all of you, so hot and deep, until he finally lowers your legs, laughing softly.

“Oh I’m gonna have so much fun with you, you’re never leaving me, are you? Aw, can’t talk baby?”

He’s got you flipped on your trembling knees next, burying his face in your pussy, cleaning all his cum out and groaning. “Too much, too much!”

“Taste us together, fuck. Made for me, just me.” He’s on top of you next, prone over you, fucking out his first load and prepping you for another, all while he’s choking your neck squeezing so hard you almost faint. He’s whispering in your ear, breath tickling, hands over your sensitive skin. “Love it, hands around this neck, beg me to cum in you, fill you.”

“P-please… please fill me- ah!” You’re fading as he chokes you harder, spitting and drooling in your mouth, cock wrecking you as he fills you again, his sweat dripping from his skin as he works you. He groans then, hand pressing on your tummy.

“So full of me, but you need more, need no question in your pretty head who you belong to.”

After another load you’re weak, and he’s still going. When you finally wake in the morning, after several loads pumped in your pussy, you’re a mess, wobbling weakly as you step out of your room, thinking of facing him. Would things be different now, was it all passion, in the moment? Was it just sex? Was it more…

You smell something sweet then, inhaling as you slip on one of his dress shirts, you’d gone from fucking in your room to the bathroom, all the way to his room. At some point he had you bent over the couch, at another he had you pressed against the shower wall. It’s like little fragments, your pussy is aching, your experience has never prepared you for his size or stamina.

But you feel deliciously fucked out.

You catch his eye then, he looks at you, exhaling at how beautiful you are, your eyes are a little puffy from crying, you have bruises and marks littering your neck, you’re wearing his expensive dress shirt and nothing else. He feels himself hard just looking at you like this, remembering all the cum he’d pumped you full, wondering if it was still dripping out?

“Good morning, sweets. Get some shut eye?” He teases, winking at you as he flips his spatula, finishing the stack of pancakes he’s made.

“You cook, Satoru?” You ask, throat hoarse from your moans, from slobbering all over his cock and having him choke you. You clear it nervously, earning his smirk.

“Cute.” He murmurs, pulling out a chair for you. “Of course I cook, I just enjoy you cooking for me, so sexy watching you, barefoot in the kitchen you know.” 

“That sounds so…”

“Sit down, you need that energy baby. Last night I know I took it easy…’

“What!?” You blink then, sitting as he plates your breakfast, wincing at how sore your entire body is.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, look at my girl.” The words ruin you, when he leans down, cupping your face and his thumb brushes along your jaw. “Covered in bruises.”

“I am?” You look down and see your thighs, your chest, in hickeys and bruises, red and purple all over. “Oh…”

“Don’t worry you’re not going anywhere today anyway. You should take a break from work, you know.” He chuckles and kisses you. “Fuck I’ve waited so long for you, for you to be mine.”

You are kissed by him then, you eagerly meet his lips, before he pulls back, taking a breath. You frown when you see your phone is over by his coffee. “Is that my phone?”

“Oh, mmhmm. Needed to block any guys, you know, also that period tracker said you’re ovulating today.” You blink again as you sip the orange juice he gives you, nearly choking on it, his blue eyes have gotten even brighter, his grin huge as he watches your expressions.

“Satoru…”

“I threw out your birth control, cancelled your prescription.”

“Satoru!”

“What baby?” He sits you up on the table, between your thighs, your body violently reacts when he grabs you under your chin, his other hand slipping down your breasts. “I know, I should have breakfast first, is that what you want?”

“I… you…”

“Gonna look so fucking sexy full of me.” He lifts your thighs, sliding up the shirt you wear as he sits right on the seat, sliding it up to get a full view of your abused, puffy cunt. “Oooh, fucked her up. Do you hurt, baby?”

“Y-yes… I- ah!” Satoru’s lapped at your pussy now, from your hole to your clit, chuckling as he pulled the lips apart. “T-Toru…”

“Look at her, she’s ready for more, she’s so greedy.” He’s buried his face against you again, and you’re cumming so quickly, he laughs at it. “So easy, too. Ah we’re gonna fill her up more, don’t worry, gotta knock you the fuck up.”

You’re going to protest then, this is insane, he’s crazy, but when you’re getting bent over the kitchen table and fucked again, you soon forget your protests, as Satoru grips your tits and pinches your sensitive nipples, pounding your hole, all you can do is cry out and arch your back. Satoru smiles against your neck as you fall apart, as he pictures breeding you.

He’s got you right where he wants.

And you both know you’re never leaving.

Ahahah this was INSANE, none of this is cool unless it's Gojo, stay safe out here lol. Hope you all enjoyed! (yes all my stories are Arctic Monkeys or Chase Atlantic lyrics loll)

Taglist: @silvarys @strychnynegirl @indiewritesxoxo @alygator77 @moonlitwitchdaisy @cuntphoric @aldebrana @levislug @haruhatake @ninikrumbs @xixflower @star2112 @nanasukii28 @sukuxna0 @naammiii @uhnosav @victoria1676 @thequeenofcurses @targaryenluvs @jinjen @yesdere @shokosmokes @aishi-toru  @labelt-san @chiyokoemilia @makingtimemine @seeing-stars-alt @bunheadusa @alt--er--love @1satoruu @thikcems @plimplimmeiododoi @watermelonslut

[hauntingblue]

There is almost no recap in wano so far.... well 4 minutes.... it's like a 2 min reduction

[pearlywritings]

Intimacy records

synopsis: what kinds of horny stuff they have in their phones and which is the favorite?

pairing and characters: Aventurine, Blade, Boothill, Dr Ratio, Gallagher, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Loucha, Sampo, Sunday (separately) x fem!reader

tw: SMUT, established relationship (marriage/dating), consensual recording of lovemaking, nudes, oral, lingerie, fingering, masturbation, public sex, breast play, shibari/blindfold, sex machine, creampie

word count: 4.3k+ words

Aventurine

Undoubtedly this man has a whole separate folder for intimate stuff. Of course, he demands you send him something on a daily basis - doesn’t matter if it’s a quick snap of your choice of lingerie in the morning, or recordings of touching yourself - but never enough to cum, it’s his job. Naturally he loves having reminders of you being at his mercy - thus there are also videos of you both (with primarily established consent). All that to say - he has quite the collection, so it’s really hard to pick a favorite, the most desire-arising one.

Maybe it’s a category actually - self-made media created out of bet. Who’ll cum first? Can you keep going without tearing up from pleasure for longer than 10 minutes? Is he patient enough not to touch your sexy self, while you masturbate in front of him? Who is going to be louder this time? These kinds.

”I hope you are ready to lose,” your lover smirks, making himself comfortable between your legs. Camera floats a little, as you chuckle behind it. With a momentary adjustment, the focus is on his face again and he winks, before turning to trail a little path of kisses across your thigh. The image jumps, when he sucks on the skin, and slightly trembles as you let out a sigh. Then it’s firm, as Aventurine wraps his arms around your thighs, his nose teasingly rubbing against your clit. Suddenly there is a lick, then your breath hitches…. And then he buries his mouth into your pussy. It doesn’t take much time for the image to begin shaking wildly, almost matching your debauched noises. There is squelching, there are award-winning male moans, muffled by your heat, soon there is a hand, your hand, reaching down and grabbing his hair. Phone strangely angles, hardly supported by just one hand, until it falls camera down onto the sheets. After that, there are just delicious screams of yours, chanting the name of your lover and begging him to stop, while he doesn’t listen, taking his reward for yet another win.

Yeah, he proved you can’t keep the camera focused while he is eating you out in that one. It’s truly a pity, that more than a half of what was going on, didn’t get recorded in image. Maybe next time you'll do better - oh... That's actually not a bad idea at all… Looks like you are in for another bet.

Blade

His situation is… quite peculiar. First of all, he has so little care for his own phone outside using it to get info for the mission, to the point ANYONE from the Stellaron Hunters can just take it and do whatever with it (Silver Wolf and Kafka practice it a lot). Even your relationship doesn’t change it much, he messages you rarely and quite shortly, preferring to save the conversation for personal interaction. 

However recently, Kafka has been putting a plan into action - the first step of which was banning everyone from getting into his phone (herself excluded). Then she’d start sending her colleague an occasional picture of a set of lingerie she’s oh so sure would look wonderful on you. Blade never answers, but he doesn’t tell her off either, and by the snooping she knows that the pictures get bookmarked, the links for the shops she attaches are visited, and sums of money are being spent.

Oh, and by checking the chat… She knows you get them delivered. Does she text you to shower you with compliments? She does. At first it was a little embarrassing and you asked Blade if he could, maybe, pay better attention to his phone??? But soon, when your lover started showing the telltale signs of jealousy... It became pretty hot (plus praise from THE Kafka? Ego-boosting).

Blade doesn’t voice it, but more than seeing you all pretty for him, he loves seeing you ruined for him, and doesn’t complain when you ask him to take a picture with your phone of whatever part of you, focusing on the marks, or the torn crotch of your panties, or something alike… There are times when he would text you with a simple ‘send me pictures with torn stockings’ or ‘yesterday. open nipples bra. now’ , because he knows you have them, and you deliver, because you know he loves them. 

Has his favorites:

Depicts your thighs, bitten and opened wide, while the black panties are pushed aside to let two thick, scar-covered fingers dive into your pussy.

Your body after one of the sessions - bra roughly pushed down under the mark-covered breasts, panties missing, one stocking still on the leg, but with multiple holes in it, and the other tying your wrists above your head.

A small video you insisted on recording of the man tugging onto your garter belt whenever he wanted your hips to push towards his thrust, threatening for the thin elastic material to snap.

Even though he doesn’t save them, he knows how to get an easy access to them, so for Blade it works quite fine (and Kafka’s plan does too, making Blade look less intimacy-repulsed and spicing up your relationship).

Boothill

A cyborg, whose only human part of the body is the head, and sex life… How can this be possible? 

Oh, trust me, it can. Sure, his bodily reaction differs, but he still is excited to get nudes from you, finally able to express through the text what he really thinks with that foul mouth of his. A voice recording of you dirty talking to him? Awesome. A video? You can bet his engine is overheating and vents are whirring.

But in all honesty, the ones he truly loves and returns to are the recordings of him doing stuff to you. Call him self-conscious, it’s not like he can bite back with a swear, but the reminder that he can bring you pleasure even now is sometimes necessary.

The lights are intimately dimmed, not enough to bring the room into utter darkness. Two bodies are lying almost intertwined with your back turned to the camera. The metal arm of your lover has sneaked under your side and around your waist, fingers digging into the plush glob of your ass, tugging on it, to further the spread which is created by your leg thrown over his hip. Your pussy is perfectly presented to the camera, puffy and slick, with two gray plated fingers massaging it. Digits slide up and down your labia, occasionally staying on the clit, to rub tight circles on it and elicit some sweet moans out of you, only to return to their previous ministrations, dipping the tips juuust a little bit into the quivering hole. Your back arches and body deliciously shivers from the contrast of his cool and your heat, and you softly whine, when he releases your ass cheek to give it a spank and then grab it again, unwilling to let the sight of your cunt escape his phone’s camera. You whimper something, muffled by his chest, but he remembers by heart what you were begging for. ‘Please, put your mouth on me.’ He will, in a minute, but right now he pushes both fingers to the second knuckle in, making you jolt in his hold, but not letting you go anywhere.

It’s captivating, how his inhuman digits disappear and reappear with every thrust he makes; slick-covered they look shiny, as if you polished them, and the cyborg shudders, imagining your tongue running around them. That’s one dangerous video, he may just give in to his want to see you and abandon the mission he was assigned to…

Dr Veritas Ratio

Unsurprisingly, Veritas’ phone doesn’t contain that much stuff in general. Maybe some downloaded articles, notes to put down later, if he doesn’t have a piece of paper at the moment, and very few pictures, mainly of his writings on the chalkboard. Don’t be discouraged though, of course he has pictures of you. Some selfies you took after “borrowing” his phone and ones he doesn’t have a heart to delete (but he will scoff at you, should you decide to tease him), and some very well-thought images he took on his own accord - he needs reference for when he decides to let his mind rest from research and focus on sculpting.

And one might think that such a reserved and cold man will not entertain storing anything explicit on his phone. Well, he indeed does not have any pictures and videos saved - if he wants, he can either find what you sent him via your chat or just demand your assistance. However… There is something that strangely became his way of concentrating when doing his research…

”Oh! Mh- *thrust* Veri- ohmygod! *thrust*”

“Wait- Aaah! I can’t! I’m sore! MmmmMMM!” “No, you can and you will. Now hold still, I can’t eat you out if you keep thrashing around.” “Oh Aeons!”

*Slick sounds of you going down on him, gurgling and choking on his girth, occasionally gasping to catch your breath, only to have his cock buried in your throat again*

“Baaaby… I miss you so much… Can I come to your office? I promise to be good… Just need to cockwarm you - nothing else I swear. Let me keep you company pleeease. Imagine how nicely it'd be to have your cock buried in my pussy, while you are working… Need to help you with stress-relief, it's gonna feel so-so good.”

“Oh fuck, o-oh, love, I'm cumming, I'm cumming, I’mcumMIN-” “Ngh, s-so…tight…” “Aaaaaaah~!”

“Veritas Ratio, if you come home in ten minutes, I will give you a nice massage and then ride you damn cock, till the only thing you can think about is not your work, but me. If you fail to do so though… I wonder if my threat to use some toys instead will work. Just know that your wife is very mad. And horny.”

It doesn't matter if the audio was taken while you were intimate or it was something you sent to him and he saved - he thoroughly enjoys everything your voice has to offer to him. And if instead of concentrated it accidentally makes him horny - he'll just play the next one, while undoing his pants.

Gallagher

Oh, this man is a menace. And a huge ass-lover. His gallery is full of pictures of your booty: clothed, just panty-clad or bare. There are shots with your body clearly being bent, ass up and back covered in his load. Videos of him fucking you from behind, with cock sliding in and out of your pussy? Obviously. Recordings of it jiggling as he spanks you? Would’ve been strange if they weren’t there.

However, in that vast collection of his, there is a video that’s most peculiar - one might say scandalous. It was one of those nights when he took over the bar for Siobhan and you came over at some point, all enticing and so sexy in that little dress of yours… He could not resist taking you right there once the establishment was closed. And it got on security camera...

Moans so loud, that they are reaching the recording device, are still of the delicious kind. Your back is arched over the bar counter, arms lifted and wrists tied by none other but Gallagher’s wine-red tie, and held by his own hand for good measure. The front of your dress is pushed down, revealing your pretty breasts, jiggling with every thrust of the man’s hips, and the hem of it has ridden up, baring your stomach and mark-covered thighs. Your lover is barely unclothed, pants and boxers pushed down just enough to free his cock and the tie, obviously, missing. The hand that is not holding your wrists, is grabbing onto your leg, under the knee, lifting it for a better angle, and showing off a lewd detail - your black lace panties hanging on your shin. You are looking positively debauched, and he is no better, groaning and cursing, with an occasional exceptionally rough trust that makes you scream and whine. There are teeth-gritted ‘slut’s and huskily chuckled ‘bad girl’s with your pleading ‘sir’s and ‘Gal’s, all of that deliciously seasoned with the clapping of the wet skin colliding. But nothing beats the moment of you cumming, depicted by no less than three cameras from all of the hottest angles…

Of course this footage was ‘confiscated’ by him with some dumb excuse for Siobhan (he doubts she believed it, given the knowing look and shit-eating grin she gave him), with all traces destroyed except just one copy thoroughly hidden on his phone. He thinks you two should repeat that - this time, however, he’d love to bend you over the counter with your back facing him…

Gepard Landau

Gepard would die if someone took his phone and got into his gallery. Poor man has to change the password weekly to throw Serval off his case (she was only teasing, but that made her brother paranoid). There is a reason for such behavior - while he is way too sweet and gentlemanly to suggest making sexy pics or, Supreme Guardian forgive, videos, he can't help but to be too whipped for you. 

This man dutifully saves every single photo and video of yours - nudes included.

You don't send them very often - you don't want to kill your darling husband. But sometimes the yearning is unbearable, and there is a suffocating need to show Gepard what he is missing while away on duty (you always leave a warning message though, so he could check it while alone and undisturbed).

No matter how red and embarrassed he gets, the man timidly admits that he enjoys this kind of attention. He is not beyond the earthly pleasures - he too has a favorite theme, that recently became more present in what you send him…

At first you looked so absolutely cute and domestic with his huge sweater on, the one you personally knitted for him - the beginning of the video didn’t look all that different from the photos you sent him just minutes before. But soon it becomes clear why you asked if he was alone, because once you position the phone and climb onto the bed, your full attire gets revealed. White stockings are replacing your usual home pants, and as your fingers grab the hem of the sweater and tug it up, the white panties from a matching set start peaking. The view is both pure and alluring, with the way your legs are spreading wide, and the sweater being pushed further up, baring your braless breasts. The hem gets secured between your teeth and both hands teasingly run down your sides, index fingers drawing circles around the tits, before squeezing them; as one remains right there, the other slowly slides down your stomach, disappearing under the hem of those flimsy panties. Imagination paints wild images - every next is hotter than the previous, and only your muffled moans of his name and rapidly rising chest are indicators of how good you feel with fingers pushing in and out of your pussy. And that damn sweater… You are not taking it off.

The Captain of the Silvermane Guards has one guilty pleasure - you, wearing his clothes. Domesticity, longing, finding comfort in something of his touches his heart and heightens his love and desire for you, almost making him consider taking a regular day off.

Jing Yuan

This man literally worships the ground his wife is walking on, so OF COURSE he wants to have as many pictures and videos of you as possible. It gets so boring and lonely when he is at work, after all. But don’t be fooled by his sweet and innocent smile, there are not only cute shots of you both or just you, he has sexy stuff too.

Man is obsessed with your chest. It’s his favorite pillow (thus so many pictures of him snuggling his face right between your breasts), his best stress-relief (photos and short videos of his big veiny hands cupping and squeezing your girls, with an occasional swipe of the thumbs over the erect nipples), his favorite place to leave marks on (no one can see them under the clothes, but just one tug of his finger on your collar and he is met with a delicious sight. Plus the photos he asks to send occasionally).

Loves, loves, loves, purchasing lingerie for you and when you demonstrate your bra-clad tits. He immediately wants them in his face, but there is the phone screen keeping him away.

But oh does he love recordings of playing with them.

Your body is steadily bouncing on your husband’s lap, creating a beautiful melody of skin slapping against skin. There is an occasional peak of his thick cock, covered in your juices, that immediately disappears again, undoubtedly swallowed by your pussy. One strong arm is wrapped around your waist, supporting you, while the other hand is palming at your left breast. The right one has fallen victim to his eager mouth, lips wrapped around the nipple, sucking on it tenderly, tongue toying with the overstimulated nub. His eyes are half-lidded when he looks up at you, moaning around your breast, when you tug on his luscious locks, trying to push him away, to give you a small rest. He is drawing back indeed, planting a soft kiss to the valley between the jiggling globes, and you sigh in relief, deceived by his affectionate action. Only for you back to arch and mouth hang in a loud moan, when Jing Yuan brings your other breast to his awaiting tongue, dropping both hands to your hips to aid you in speeding up your riding, sensing your nearing orgasm.

Maybe next time you should try recording him making you cum by playing with your chest only… Ah, just the thought makes his cock swell.

Loucha

As much as Loucha enjoys your company and more often than not allows you to accompany him in his journeys, there are times when he can’t take you with him. Which means he leaves for weeks, or sometimes a couple of months, going through the days without a single touch from you. Before getting into a relationship with you, he could survive without intimacy just fine, but now, since he knows the taste of affection and being spoiled by you, it’s getting hard.

That’s when recordings on his phone come in handy, especially when there is no opportunity of a video call to indulge. And there is one he most frequently returns to…

Your chest is rising and falling, pretty breasts with perky nipples brought together by a wrap of a rope. Red and purple marks bloom on your skin akin flowers, some fresh, some from days before. Sweat shines on your hot skin, indicating just for how long the blonde has been torturing you with pleasure and denial. There is a small shake of the video, as your lover is establishing his phone, having just started the recording, and softly making you aware of how good you look - you wouldn’t know with that blindfold covering your eyes. Once the angle is perfect - capturing your arms, tied above the head, the arch of your back and thighs pushed together for stimulation, the man is joining you on the bed. It is cock-hardening, how you lift your head to find his lips, when you sense him leaning down, needily allowing him to indulge in a kiss before the game of orgasm denial continues. His hand meanwhile is creeping down your body, starting with caressing your cheek, fingers sliding down your neck, over the swell of your breast, thumb pushing against the nipple, eliciting a moan out of you right into his mouth, and then palm splaying on your stomach, traveling even lower, before it disappears between your thighs.

Loucha is a man of foreplay. There is nothing more satisfying to him, than indulging into your body before sinking his cock into your warmth. He loves making you squirm, completely at his mercy, drawing you right to the edge, and then denying you the sweet release, just to make you yearn, just to stretch the process out.

Sampo Koski

Sampo is nasty and that is not a secret. I am sure, if you were up for it, he’d suggest filming porn just for the giggles (and extra cash, come on, you both are fucking hot). There are teasing nudes and intimate videos, and it’s not a rare occasion of either of you texting the other with some found porn with a caption ‘let’s try it?’ and you do, frequently recording the process to compare later, and claiming that your performance is better.

However, sometimes it tends to not go according to the script (not like you usually have one). Sampo is chaotic and it’s not hard to lose focus with a lover like him, and these exact moments are Koski’s favorite. Despite being a Masked Fool, during these times he himself looks so sincere, it’s as unnerving, as it is exciting. Rewatching such videos and seeing how you mirror the look in his eyes, giggle with him, even crack a joke, all without ruining the mood - makes him believe he’s found his soulmate (and if you did film porn with him, he’d never share this level of intimacy with your viewers, it solely belongs to you two).

You are giggling, shaking your head with a wide smile, all the while lying on your stomach between his toned mark-covered thighs and leisurely fisting his hard, leaking cock with an angrily red tip. 

‘Sampo, please, be a little serious, we are trying to be sexy here.’

‘We are sexy! What’s not hot in shaping my and your pubic hairs into the lips?? They could kiss, when we fuck!’

‘You are unbelievable,’ you snort, trying to save the last bits of your composure, and leaning forward to mouth at his tight balls. This makes your lover pornographically (how ironic) moan, throwing his head back.

‘Mmm, yes, right there~ Oooh… If am soooo unbelievable, it must mean I am dreamy? How about I bring you to a Penacony, to a Dreamscape? I bet in your dream I’d be as good in bed as I am in reality.’

Your resolve snaps and you burst out laughing, letting go of his sack and pressing your face to his thigh, shaking, dropping the hand from around his cock. Sampo whines.

‘Come ooooon, I was so close!’

‘Shu-ah-ha-t-ah-uh-p,’ you manage through your laughter. The man pouts, but the gaze of mint green is summer-warm as he is looking down at your trembling form. Your voice is pretty, your cackles are pretty, and oh damn he is laughing too.

And these are just the first few minutes of the last video, the thing has a duration of half an hour, so, obviously, you didn’t stop there. That’s what Sampo Koski loves - no matter how cringe you become, it’s never a reason to stop the whole process. If anything it’s something to spark an even longer and intimacy-filled one.

Sunday

Keeping personal stuff on his phone is quite dangerous, given Sunday’s position. That’s why he owns two phones - his work one, and one to mainly contact you, his sister, and a small circle of the most trusted people. He is extremely good at handling the owning of two separate devices, never mistaking one for another, that people are often convinced he has only one.

But it’s his personal cellphone that interests us. Oh, does he have a whole collection of photos and videos of you, one folder in particular hidden just for good measure. Sunday is a collected and regal man, yet it doesn’t mean he has a hard time enjoying your teasing. Quite contrary, sometimes he welcomes it, loving the photos you send him from an outing, shopping for clothes, or better yet, lingerie, sending him multiple shots of different sets and asking him which he loves most, and which he’d like to see on you tonight. 

There are videos too, especially when he’s been extremely busy, and you are oh so needy, sending him short recordings of touching yourself, sighing out his name, begging him to come and help you. However, there is one he particularly likes…

Big silicone cock is being pushed in and out by the machine he purchased for you to quell your need when your husband can’t be there for you. You are on your stomach, with hips slightly raised and pushed backwards, chasing the toy, and he can see the perfect outline of your pussy, outer lips swollen and puffy, covered in a sticky substance, opening and constricting in attempts to accommodate the girth. Your moans are sweet, so-so sweet, hitting a high pitch, when the dildo falls out and a thick glob of cum substitute escapes your pussy. And then another, and another, messing your thighs even more, ruining the towel underneath you. Yet you don’t stop, reaching behind, and pushing the tip back into your tight warmth, making the toy pick its pace again. It’s squelching, it’s so dirty, but it’s so hard to look away. You give yourself creampie, after creampie, sometimes stopping to collect the substance and push it inside with your digits, fingering, moaning and whining for your husband, wishing it’s his cum sploshing between your walls, breeding you.

Yes, it’s his favorite, almost 4-minute video. Ever the neat freak, he can’t deny you look heavenly when ruined, on an equally ruined bed, begging for his attention and semen. You have to forget about the machine for some time, however, because since then Sunday has been truly devoted to breeding you.