#how many times do you think hes had dreams like this in his life.

[screampied]

PARTITION! g. satoru

ৎ୭ sum. your sugar daddy, satoru’s worst fear happened. he fears you’re too much of a spoiled rotten brat. screw riding in his expensive private limousine—you wanted to ride something else instead. (him, duh)

wc. 7.3k

warnings. fem! reader, sugar daddy gojo! au, age gap (early twenties + thirties), car sęx, bratty reader, unprotected, getting eaten out the window, tít job, reverse cowgirl, doggy, cunnīlingus, nanami cameo, slight alcohol consumption, size kink, cęrvix kissing, possessive themes (wearing waist beads w his initials), implied multiple rounds, he’s sooo whipped, bręeding.

➤ sd! gojo masterlist

“meet my baby here, sweets. charlotte.”

“satoru, what.”

as satoru had an arm slinked around your waist, brushing a thumb across the jewels that stuck against of of the many designer blouses he’s bought you within the past week, he hums. the two of you were staring straight at a limousine. it was icy blue like his eyes with a plethora of dark-tinted windows. to even top it off, it had ‘G.S limousine service, inc.’ carved into the side of one of the doors in bright, blue cursive.

you huffed, smearing your glossed lips together. “you named your limousine?”

“heh, well she’s yours now,” he hums, guiding you toward the slid open doors. “c’mon, there’s a club i wanna take you to. if we leave now, we can beat the press.” and satoru takes a peek at his gleaming, pricey watch. he helps lifts the back of your long skirt from touching the ground before you step in. immediately, you’re hit with flashing lights inside the luxurious car and its plush red seats.

“where to, sir.” a blond chauffeur adjusts his mirror with a sigh, taking a short glance at you.

satoru throws an arm around you, tugging lightly on his tie that’s tucked neatly in his suit. “ah, kento, meet my girl. and please—drive us to my private lounge,” satoru kisses your cheek as you sit, whispering in an impish, low tone. “buckle up, sweetheart. ‘s gonna be a bumpy ride.”

the seats were oh-so-soft, a violent hot color of maroon as the entire limo was lit up with nothing but dim flashing, flashing lights.

it was bright, the size alone was probably bigger than a simple normal bathroom. satoru saw you taking in the luxurious life like you always did, craning your head from left to right before peering at the empty wine glasses in front of you both.

“it’s so pretty,” you hummed, your head resting against his shoulder.

once you’re laid against him, you’re smacked with his signature loud cologne scent. it was always a scent you’d never forget, nor could you get used to.

it’s strong, making you take the citrusy manly aroma in silence every time.

with a raised brow, you look up at the white-haired man before timidly murmuring, “wait- what do you mean this is mine? like.. the whole thing?”

“yeah, silly girl,” satoru brushes a thumb around the center of your forehead in invisible circles.

you’ve grown to get weak with his tender touch every time. cerulean-iced eyes lock against you lovingly, and that’s when that cunning grin spreads at each side of his crooked lips. “think of it as an uh- surprise gift for the new year.”

with a pout, you open your mouth to complain. “satoru- last week, you just bought me-”

“a convertible, and i’d do it again in a heartbeat,” satoru whispers, planting another kiss near your temple.

your incoming words come to an abrupt pause, and the cute speechless look you gave him always made him hum in amusement.

one of the many things satoru liked- no loved about you, was that you were always so humble.

you were forever grateful, but you couldn’t help but be hesitant sometimes at how much he’d constantly spend for you. satoru continued to shower you with compliment though—constantly reassuring you that he wanted to splurge his money on you.

you were living the dream - literally.

embodying the life of a rich girl, a type of rich girl where you’d usually see in cheesy movies or sung in iconic songs by artists like gwen stefani.

even though it’s been a full-blown year, you’ve started to grow accustomed to the sweet luxury of being a sugar baby.

satoru gojo’s sugar baby.

but he wasn’t starting to see you as just his pretty ‘lil sugar baby though, that much was apparent.

satoru didn’t expect you to not only take his money but his heart too.

and he never minded.

he couldn’t put a price on that anyway.

“besides,” he grabs a clear, empty glass and an unopened bottle from underneath the fuzzy, red seat. with a flick, satoru removes the cork that is plugged near the top with just his thumb and middle finger. as he pours a small portion of wine inside, the velvet-colored liquid stains against all sides of the glass.

“what’s mine is yours, baby,” he takes a sip before sighing at the cassis flavor hits against his tastebuds, “ ‘s what my sweet thing deserves.”

as you’re still pouting, the limo continues to drive.

the windows were tinted, but it was clear as day when you looked through them to take a quick peel. as usual, the roads were quite busy with rush hour but it was a smooth ride nonetheless.

however though, you had to admit, you were getting a bit… bored.

satoru sat man spread, both of his wide legs taking so much unnecessary space before he contemptibly sighed again. with one of his arms still wrapped around you, you took a moment to take in his suave, handsome appearance.

he always was draped in nothing but tuxedos—

after all, without the whole sugar daddy side thing, you sometimes forget how satoru was a literal well-known businessman.

he never really went into the specifics of his work, but you knew he was the CEO of some private company.

satoru was a very powerful man, a man with a big net worth … but an even bigger heart.

the shoes that satoru wore were dress shoes of his own brand, of course. in the luminous, glittery lights of the inside of the limousine—the shoes were visibly spit-shined from top to bottom. his suit’s dark black, and the handkerchief that stuck out of his front chest had the imprints of your lipstick on it.

of course he kept that.

his hair..

it’s messily ruffled but somewhat presentable, slicked back as usual with a faint side part. over time, you started to notice how he was growing facial hair too.

it’s subtle, and you’d have to squint but you saw it. you saw how specks of white hair were trying to form down near his chin.

it was attractive nonetheless, and the thought of satoru growing a stubble had you squeezing your thighs together in shame.

after all, he was in his early-thirties so he was bound to grow some facial hair at some point. he’s always been a well-shaved man, but the image forever plagued your mind.

“yeees, sweets.” he snaps you out of your little fantasm, the near-empty wine glass still in his hand. he sits the expensive bottle of ‘screaming eagle’ near the limo’s bar that was covered with dozens of tiny, pretty rhinestones.

“h.. huh?” you stammer, blinking thrice.

shit.

the way you stared at him was like a deer in headlights. caught red-handed!

that same wry grin that stretched so slyly pried at both cracks of his lips before satoru tilted his head. “you’re starin’ y’know,” and you felt his hand placed on your thigh. “is my baby bored?”

“a little,” you admitted, hearing the loud screeching of tire wheels and screaming horns of other cars in the background.

only satoru could make you feel like you were the only girl in the world..

slowly, satoru dragged his pink tongue over his upper lip which was a bit damp from the scarlet-colored wine.

you sucked in a raucous breath - your thoughts turning more ‘n more filthy by the second.

his lips.. they were so perfect, naturally glossed, and forevermore had a plump downward curve. you could stare at them all day, and your eyes widened once a drip of wine started to trickle down the right side of his lip.

“ooh- excuse me. guess ‘m a bit messy today,” he throatily chuckles, feeling the coldness of the red droplet race down his skin. “would you be a doll ‘n lick that up for me, sweetheart?”

“okay-” you comply right away, positioning yourself on his lap.

satoru titters, cocking his head lazily toward the left as you get comfortable. cute, he thinks.

he could already tell how eager you were. also, he didn’t tell you the duration of the ride but it was probably about a good hour.

like hell could you even wait that long.

it felt like time was so cruel - standing still as you inched closer and closer toward his face. satoru laid man spread the entire time, eyeing you closely with his gaze never leaving yours.

he paws a big hand near your waist, hearing your pretty airy breaths pick up.

“stop looking at me like that-”

“aw, is it a crime to stare at my gi-”

satoru’s fatally silenced with a kiss.

it’s a rough one, and you couldn’t wait to run your tongue across the remnants of cherry-flavored wine that now started to drip down his chin.

it tasted sweet - a spicy cherry flavor, and you moaned once his knee aligned itself between your thighs.

his thigh was so bulky too, even underneath the lanky, slender slacks he wore. satoru was a particularly ripped guy in general — you knew his workout routine like the back of your hand, and sometimes he’d even let you do sets with him.

(sets that mainly consisted of you sitting on his back while he did push-ups orrrr sitting on his abs while he used barbells in his private gym)

“mhm~” you moan against his lips, hearing the competitive sounds of teeth rudely smacking against each other in vigorous sync.

each tongue’s on a dangerous mission, desperately trying to dominate the other and you couldn’t help but melt.

your twisting, hot tongue started to wander, creating a slippery snail trail near the crack of his mouth before nibbling on his bottom lip. “sa- satoruu.” you’d breathe, one hand giving his tie a needy, impatient pull.

“heyyy, you know i don’t speak whine,” he whispers, breaking away from your lips for a second.

your lips were already swollen, slickly shining with saliva that could’ve been an easily replaceable substitute for lip gloss. “use those words, sweetheart,” and it was like the more he spoke, the deeper his voice seductively pitched.

the knee that still rested between your sprawled open legs didn’t make things easier either. “tell me what you want ‘n maybe i’ll give it to ya, hm?”

with a huff, you mumble a soft, “you-”

“well yeah, me silly! elaborate for me though.”

“i want- i want you.. i want all of you satoru. right now,” you go into more detail, leaning in to paint a slope of wet kisses down his neck. satoru’s collar was a bit unkempt—some exposed skin showed above his collar which you then brought upon yourself to attack with kisses. “pretty please.”

“hah- but.. you already have me,” he inhales, groaning once he feels you starting to grind against his lap.

satoru’s touch was pure static..

his fingers couldn’t help but mindlessly roam, tickling against your bare skin that protruded through the minuscule squares of your ripped fishnets.

the stare you two shared was just so intimate, and he could almost already smell your lusty, loud arousal..

“mhm- y’know, what i want too?” satoru huskily whispers against your ear, grunting as your hips slooooowly rubbed against his visible boner.

hugely, it stuck out through his jet-black slacks. leave it to you to always make him hard.

“tell me.” you reply with a chastened frown, sliding a hand up his loose button-up. your hand enters underneath his shirt and his skin is so warm that it feels like his entire body is on fire.

right away, your curious palm gets a taste of his hardened abs that were nearly akin to the texture of a damn brick.

rigid, flexing muscles of satoru’s relax at your touch before he grabs a nice chunk of your ass.

“oh, nothing! ‘m just a.. ‘lil thirsty, sweets..”

♡ ♡ ♡

“ohmygod-” you’d squeal, cupping a clammy palm over your mouth.

when satoru said he was thirsty, you surely didn’t expect him to have you hanging out the window with your ass perfectly perked out.

with a single hand, he pulled up your skirt, raising it to the brink of your waistline while dragging your pretty lace panties to the side with a single thumb.

you were partially hanging out the window - safely though, he’d never let you fall.

satoru had an arm wrapped around your waist, one hand sliding down your thigh. vehemently, his tongue swirled circles around your clit before giving it one looooong suck.

his lips puckered, and he could already feel your hips starting to stutter against his mouth.

“mng- ‘toru,” you’d heave, wriggling your ass around his face. the tip of his nose started to rub up and down your slit too, and he’s shamelessly getting a whiff of your candied mess.

he was always so nasty, proudly spitting on your pussy, lapping it up before it dripped onto the thousand-dollar seats.

“mhh- wiggle that ass a little more for me baby, dance with my.. haaah- tongue,” he whispers airily, thumbing a fat finger near your pulsing clit. satoru found it so cute how you’d pulse every time he’d smear slippery circles around your pussy.

you just couldn’t help it!

you’re sucking in each ‘n every breath, sinking the edges of your teeth into your bawled knuckle to suppress your moans.

a strong gust of wind strikes you as the car continues to move, and you’re just meekly smiling at the cars that pass by.

from their points of view… the drivers are just seeing some random girl slightly hanging out a halfway-lowered limousine window.

in reality though,

you were getting eaten out while dozens of cars speedily drove past you.

through your slightly blurred peripherals, you saw satoru’s chauffeur who you remember hearing him address as ‘kento’ earlier, giving you a peer through his side-view mirror. he had his hands firmly on his steering wheel, scoffing to himself with a head shake.

he mumbled something under his breath as he looked away, focusing his browned eyes on the talking GPS that read him the directions to the destination.

from your sweet, repetitive moans, you couldn’t exactly make out what he said but from a quick read of his lips, you’d probably guess it was something like:

“i don’t get paid enough for this shit.”

as you’re still hung out the window, your legs part a bit - causing your eyes to widen.

satoru’s slurping you clean, skipping frisky plump fingers down your thigh before cupping his plump lips around your pussy. his head, it moves back and forth, ferociously shifting side to side like a damn madman.

you probably looked soo stupid. your mouth stayed open the entire time with your jaw forever dropped—dangling like an earring.

“fuh- fuuuck,” your trembling voice pitches higher, and you claw a hand near the back of your ass.

tightly gripping at a piece of your ass, it fits around your hand entirely before you turn to look back at satoru.

already, his chin’s got a pretty coat of your juices pouring down his jaw. his tongue was just hungry, wanting far more than just a few sips of his expensive screaming eagle..

you were far sweeter than any beverage, and satoru continuously took big, big gulps.

he treated his lips like a straw, pursing them to suck before slurping every single drop of you clean until you could barely hold your legs open.

“mhm- look at alllll this pretty fuckin’ ass,” he groans, removing your hand that was gripped on your rear.

with a whack! he hits it, humming at the cute ‘lil jolt of your shimmying body.

your skin jiggles in his face instantly, and you feel his curving tongue precisely slow its frantic pace down by the second.

there….

the tip of his pointed tongue stretched itself so far out that it clicked itself against your precious g-spot. “mng- spread y’rself wider, baby. ‘m not done with my.. hah- drink.”

“suh- sssatoru,” you’d drag out your whiny, pathetic words.

your brows formed into a furrow as your hands grabbed onto the edges of the rolled-down window. sweaty, perspiring fingertips imprinted the fogged glass as he licked every wet orifice thoroughly.

thankfully, some music was blasting in the background—seemingly drowning out your constant, pleading whines and whimpers..

satoru’s designer tie even gets a bit wet - you’re drip drip dripping, tears of glossy slick pouring flawlessly from both sides of your legs. he brings a thumb toward your hole, feeling your cute wriggles before spitting down your pussy.

slowly, the webby string trails a straight, sloppy line down and he licks it up — removing his thumb and starting at your hole before lapping his tongue down the bottom part of your pussy.

he’s wholeheartedly feral - animalistic, working his tongue until your brain turns into mush.

eventually, you ended up crawling back into the spacious limousine and landed on your back.

with your legs still spread, satoru lifts your thighs, continuing his feast. “mmph- get back here, sweets. ‘m not haaah- done,” he’d jibe each time he’d squint to see your cute weak pulse up close.

you’re impatient - desperate for your release so much that you could almost taste it..

it tasted sweet with a bit of tang, and the more you fantasized about your inevitable orgasm— the more more more you were starting to blank out all on his tongue.

“mnh- attaaaaa girl, let ‘toru get a nice good sip.” he’s still slurping you, a few excess juices smearing against his cheek.

satoru’s long, white lashes flutter open and close as he relishes in your treacly taste.

you just couldn’t stay still though.

with the way your hips cutely tossed ‘n turned each time his tongue delved inside of your sopping cunt, he’d think your middle name was ‘squirmer.’

time drags by for a looong time, not as long as satoru’s tongue though.. not by a long shot..

it flicked its way through each spot, munching proudly against your clit before your tummy tucked inward. your brain haywires, and with your mouth wide open — the only sounds that escaped were small, labored breaths.

you’re cumming, and your lashes frantically blinked at so many blinks per second. your muscles that were once tense relaxed as you’re finally succumbing to pleasure.

you squealed out that final, harmonic battle cry before your head plopped into the edge of the limo’s seat.

“fuck- fuck, fuuuck,” you’re whimpering, repeating the same swear like a broken record as you feel him grab ahold of your writhing hips.

his tongue’s length curved its way everywhere, creating a path to remember as it made itself known at all tender areas of your pussy.

“uh huh- that’s it, good girl. ride it out, riiiide it out, i gotcha,” he groans, laying his tongue fully flat. it’s a rose-like pink, soddened tastebuds sizzling in contempt once you’re ‘quenching’ his thirst with your sweetened arousal.

buzzing sounds went in and out of your ears as you just released huff after puff through your lungs. satoru’s lips were glossed with nothing but your slick, even more than they already were.

he gives your poor, convulsing clit its last finally smooches before reluctantly breaking away.

“hah- never a dull moment with her,” he licks his lips from top to bottom, grabbing out his lipstick-stained handkerchief before patting underneath his chin. “you okay, sweetheart?”

“ ‘m okay,” you breathe, still feeling tingles surge through every one of your veins that ran down your wobbly, numb limbs. your legs had it the worse.

you barely felt anything, and satoru helped you back to your feet.

it was a limo, so it wasn’t like you could exactly stand but you sufficed by crouching just below the fuzzy-made hood.

satoru lies slouched back - giving his lap a few playful pats before tilting his head at you. “c’mere, sweet thing,” and his voice was dripping with erotic silk.

his ocean-strong eyes zero down at your body, trailing up up up before eventually stopping just about your waistline.

your skirt was now off — pulled to the floor and so were your panties. you only had your matching blouse on. you got an idea though, and satoru watched you get on your knees. “oh..?”

“ ‘toru,” you speak in shortened puffs, still trying to get over your recent teeth-shattering orgasm. every sensitive axon and nerve located in your body was screaming at you, aching for more stimulation as time passed.

as your hands casually spread his long legs wider across the cushioned seats, you hummed. “remember those waist beads you ordered me a few weeks back?”

“mhm,” he nods, eyes never darting away from your wriggling body for a second.

satoru wondered what your game was.

as he was trying to prevent himself from smiling, he was starting to realize that maybe, just maybe you were starting to get just a liiiiitle bit spoiled.

as his legs were fully sprawled apart, you brought your hands toward the hem of the designer blouse that stuck against your skin. you honestly lost count of just how many clothes satoru’s bought you within the past year.

he watches closely - zeroing down at your figure, nipping on his lip as he stares at you leisurely pulling the piece of clothing off of you.

satoru’s seen your skin countless times, but there was just something about your body that he just couldn’t get enough of.

couldn’t get enough of you..

if he was being honest, he could stare at you all day.

“look. it fits perfectly,” you speak in a sweet tone, your thighs stuck together as you were still dripping from the inner crevices. you could feel yourself throbbing, and it took everything in you to not let out a moan.

satoru tsks, kissing his teeth once he’s now exposed to your skin.

the damn beads,

they wrapped around your waist and indeed fit your entire torso. his eyes studied the gold that went around your raised hips, whistling once he saw those two crystallized initials - his initials.

‘G.S’

the small two letters hung on one waist bead that was drooped low near your naval and an extra twin pair near the charms behind your back. “fuuuck- know that’s right,” satoru huffs, his breathing starting to get a bit heavy.

“all mine, heh- looks so damn pretty on you,” and as his eyes continued to meander down your skin, satoru’s head rests back against the softly cushioned seat. “hm- how ‘bout you model for me? show off that gorgeous body a little more f’ me.”

“say ‘please’,” you’d get on his lap, wrapping your arms around him. satoru looks up at you with a mere pouting scowl, a hand instinctively attaching itself to your hip.

“pleaaase, oh-pleaseeee sweets. don’t tease me too bad, you’re bein’ a bit of a spoiled girl right now,” he whispers, bringing wet, cold lips toward the corner of your neck. you moaned, feeling satoru’s free hand strum a few fingers down your waist beads.

they clank clank clanked, creating pretty jingle sounds at each faint movement before you started to move your hips.

“goddamn-” he holds in a breath, practically wordless as his eyes continued to rove.

briskly, you slowly turned yourself around, teasingly popping your hips to the dropping beats of the song that played through the limo’s speakers.

satoru’s suddenly short of breath, circling a thumb around the left cheek of your ass. he’s so hard, and you could feel it the more you rubbed your ass right up against thaaat particular spot.

he sucks his teeth once more, grunting as he feels the cloth knead against your skin so good..

“woman, you’re bein’ such a bratty tease right now..” and he could taste that round, large lump forming near the very back of his throat.

satoru shivers as your hands place on the crown of his knees, and you’re starting to rock rock rock back ‘n forth his throbbing boner. “hmph. the things i let ‘cha get away with, lucky ‘m not.. haah- fuck, bending ya over my lap, baby.”

“you talk a lot for a guy with a boner this hard, ‘toru.” you shrug, continuing the sensual jerking of your hips.

he’s grunting at every swift turn of your body, hearing his heart loudly thump through his ears.

the limo’s speed picks up a few miles and you could hear the grumbling from underneath the vehicle as you stayed quiet for a few seconds.

“mmh- fine, since you said please.”

as you’re still facing the other way, you reach for his buckle with your fingers brushing near the cold straps. you couldn’t see, so he grabbed your hand—guiding you where to unbuckle his slacks.

“f.. fuck, hurry up. you rubbin’ against me isn’t helping matters at all, y’know,” he tries to laugh but it comes out very dry.

satoru just wanted to be inside you, making you remember your place with a few sloppy strokes.

you giggled, hearing his pants and boxers sliiiide down to his ankles with a thud before jostling your rear way back against his leaning cock. it hung so cutely, and its tip was swollen with veins protruding at a few girthy sides.

with satoru still having a hold of your hand, he makes you touch the leaking head. “ooh,” you hum, twirling a thumb around his tender frenulum.

as you do so, he moans out the sluttiest moan, pretty white lashes squeezing shut for about three seconds to savor this moment.

“heh.. little girl,” he gutturally prowls, aligning his dick in between the crack of your fleshy mounds. it’s very hard, and you hummed at the warmth he provided. “go on then.. ride me in reverse, sweets. this the ride you wanted all along, hm?”

“yeaah,” you played along, almost seeing the weary smirk unfurl across his lips as he spoke.

you couldn’t wait any longer either.

you were throbbing persistently, every fiber of your being longing for satoru to ease his way inside of your pretty, sobbing cunt.

he was so big that your hand could barely wrap around the entity of his length. instantly, your palms met with various veins as you raised your hips moderately.

his vermillion-shaded tip carefully hovered over your dripping hole, and satoru’s just heavily breathing at your stilled body.

“mngh-” you released a rough, jagged breath once you were slowly making your way down on his cock.

like usual, you’re presented with that loving tiiiiight stretch that lasts for about a good four seconds.

satoru’s tip alone was big, and it pummeled through your insides as his inches started to leisurely disappear.

it’s such a lewd scene - a scene he wouldn’t mind replaying over ‘n over again in his head..

your pussy sings out sloshes of wet high notes in harmony, trying to take in his weighty shaft.

your mouth opens up on its own, and you’re breathing out colorful swears of ‘ohhh fuuuck’ ‘s as you continue to sink your way down.

from the both of you, countless breathy breaths were drawn from both raspy lungs as the mouthwatering penetration continued.

it felt like a squeeze pinching near your insides, tickling around you from the inside before adding pounds of pressure pressure pressure..

your hands go back to being placed on his knees, whimpering as his slick cock eases its way inside of your pussy. spongy, clamping walls hugged around him like a vice and your teeth were starting to feel that familiar chatter.

“god- always s- so fuckin’ big, ‘toru,” you moan, your bratty ‘lil façade shortly faltering once he’s finally buried balls fuckin’ deep.

the pit of your tummy was constantly heaving, cowardly sucking itself in and out at the sheer weight of his size before you eventually relaxed.

“perfect fit for my perfect… hah- girl.” he grunts, taking a quick peer down at your unbalanced thighs that struggled to move at first.

gradually, your hips started to move and greeted satoru’s lap with a sharp, rude slam. once you started to adapt to a rhythm, your hips rolled and rolled.

“agh- that’s i.. iiiiit,” he choked on his saliva, playing with the waist beads that danced against your torso as you moved.

satoru moans, feeling his fat base smush its way against your ass once you sat down. your hips were reeling, winding back into his pelvis like a wind-up toy.

with parched, hot skin amongst skin - the sounds echoed against the limo, nearly sounding over the music that played in the background.

satoru’s watching as you plop straight back into him before you sprightly wriggle your hips in a seductive circle.

“my, ain’t you a naughty girl..” he tosses his head back in overwhelming rapture, feeling his dick twitch inside you as the sloppy sounds continue.

it was hard not to hear - if it was anything satoru knew about your pussy, he knew that it was always, always vocal with him..

you’re slamming back against his lap every time, squeezing your palms against the crowns of his knees with your body twirling and falling back into his inviting lap.

if you kept riding him like that, he’d really be head over heels.

“ugh- yeah, girl. ride it, ride this dick like it’s yours because it fuckin’ is,” satoru grunts, feeling your cunt tighten for a second at his exact words. “heh- did my messy girl like that? like hearin’ that ‘m yours, sweetheart?”

“mhm,” you’d nod with your lips clamped shut.

he’s just so big, stretching through your insides with such ease. the once slow and steady beats of your heart were now thump thump thumping!

satoru’s bulbous-shaped tip had a hooked upturning curve, and fuck did you feel every sloping curve as you bounced up ‘n down on his cock.

it’s so good that your mouth’s pathetically watering from the inside, and you’re already starting to feel that burning sensation electrify through your aching, stretched muscles.

“mngh- look at this body, s… so damn-” and he pauses, clenching his jaw at the sloppy wet feeling of your barriers bear-hugging around his cock.

you’re just working your hips like it’s a full-time job, throwing them around in a circle so fast that even satoru could barely keep up.

with thighs upon thighs upon thighs, your skin sticks against his like glue. a trail of colorless slick smears down satoru’s leg and he moans at the loud slaps of zealous, clapping skin.

you’re sticky still, and he’s moaning louder once the speed of your hips quickens.

“yeah? yeah, better- fuckin’-ride-me,” and even though his voice faintly cracks, satoru still manages a sort of poised, cocky persona.

multiple ‘encouraging’ swats hit against the cheeks of your ass and you’re whining, putting your all into the movements of your jerking body. satoru’s snowy brows contort before he gives your waist beads a soft tug.

“do it, fuck me, baby. ‘n while you’re at it..” and as you’re still moving your hips, you feel a bit of paper rain down your back that’s starting to perspire with sweat.

“fuck-” satoru grunts smokily, staring as hundred dollar bills fall down your bare spine. “forgot ‘ta give you your allowance, might as well give it to you now.”

“hngh- satoruuu,” you whined, his cock hitting its way through every spot. it french-kisses near your clit before passionately making out with your cervix.

it located both spots easily, and the feeling had your toes curling inside of your four-inch heels.

satoru ended up tossing those same bills down your back, staring as it prettily fell down your body before landing on his lap and the limo’s cottony carpet.

“ ‘m gonna cum i think,” you moaned, slowing your turning hips in hypnotic, carnal arcs. satoru’s hands were brought to your waist with two thumbs pressed at each side of your hips. “ ‘m cummin’ satoru.”

“me too, s.. sweets,” he swallows, hissing silently at the unsteady bucking of your bouncing ass.

your rear jiggled at each slamming thrust, ricocheting against his thighs and it was just so mesmerizing to watch.

satoru’s feeling the scorching tip of his cock grow hot, and he’s starting to feel all types of contractions arise within his muscles. “god- tell me where to tell me where.”

“inside,” you moaned, bringing your hands toward your chest to cup to bouncing tits. you squeezed them, smearing a thumb around your hardened nipples before making yourself even more aroused.

it’s just so much to process.

your rutting hips, the loud squelches of your pussy, satoru’s dick driving through you repeatedly.. oh, you were in a daze.

“f- fuuuuck. be a… hah- good girl ‘n take it all then.” he groans, elated euphoria swelling within him.

you stuck against his lap so good, slickly sliding your ass back before going forward, then back into his pelvis again.

your movements alone left such a good taste in his mouth, and once he feels himself about to burst - he fuckin’ bursts.

a massive load spurts out of satoru, shooting deeply into your fluttering womb as your hips come to a freezing still.

you’re cumming too - whimpering as you’re gushing down on his cock while being absolutely filled.

wads ‘n wads of milky, gooey cum floods inside of you, plugging you to the fullest. you’re both moaning lowly, rocking against each other in rushed unison before you arch forward.

your ass was fully bent over, and satoru stared openly as he was still shooting such deep, frothy amounts inside of you.

you looked so pretty like this that he couldn’t help but mentally take a picture, widely peering at the foamy droplets of cum that started to trickle their way down his overwhelmed base—creating a sparkling white ring.

it’s still as thick - still as veiny, and satoru makes you raise your hips ever-so-slightly.

doing so, he stares at your soddened pussy that’s lewdly spitting out a few heaps of cum before hearing that cute wet ‘plop!’

“fuckin’ dirty girl..” he huffs, one hand softly caressing your waist beads. he takes a glance at the ‘G.S.’ initials that were engraved near the back side of the many other charms, and he sighs.

right as you’re pulled up to where his creamy tip was juuuust about to slide away from your soused opening, satoru gives your stuffed pussy a soft pat.

“don’t know who’s dirtier…. herrrr,” he mumbles, swabbing a thumb around your cum-covered hole before bringing it up to his mouth.

with a wet smacking ‘ccht’ of satoru’s lips coming together—he licks his thumb clean, cooing silently at the taste of himself like the filthy, filthy man he was. “or you.”

♡ ♡ ♡

after many, many positions, you found yourself losing multiple rounds with your shallow breath as if even breathing was a mere contest. he’s had you in position after position, folding you like a freshly baked pretzel. it’s almost like the two of you weren’t literally in a limousine.

you hoped his chauffeur nanami didn’t hear. that would’ve been well, embarrassing.

the drive felt like forever.. but, you honestly didn’t want it.. this to end.

you’re a mess, stuffed to the uttermost fullest with ribbons of satoru’s freshly hot cum messily tearing down every slick crevice of your thighs.

currently, satoru had you in one of his favorite positions.

doggy.

part of the reason why he loved it so much was mainly because of the perfect, jiggling view.

your ass - he loved seeing how it would react from each rude smack, swatting his palm over and over again at your cute, tender skin. the pads of your hands pressed firmly into the limo’s seats as he’s just giving you the pound of a damn lifetime.

“mngh!” you’d whine out, drooling from the sides of your jittery, spit-slick lips that refused to stay shut.

he’s effortlessly reaching all the right areas, swiftly pumping his way past that cute taut ring of your entrance that he’s grown to love.

that brief tight stretch nearly makes him lose his mind, and satoru then brings his hands toward your waist. “right there, right fuckin’ th— mmph!”

“shhh, you’re gonna.. hah- miss the best part, sweets,” the white-haired man cups a hand over your mouth.

slow strokes - deeper thrusts..

your eyes rolled ‘n rolled back, gasping against his palm once he sneaks a hand in between your wet thighs. with your waist beads tickling against his wrist, satoru gives your pussy a soft smack.

your wetness ‘splashes’ against the center of his hand, and it even pops out a cute sound too.

“uuugh- ‘m gonna… cum agaiiin,” you’d raise your ass in the air just a bit more, your voice turning more whiny within seconds.

your words were still a bit muffled with his hand covering your mouth, but he still made out your whiny, inaudible words—just barely. .

the sounds of fierce, sharp hips brutally clashing against skin every time made him groan. it’s a booming resounding ‘pop!’ or ‘pap!’ noise every time that makes your entire body ring instead of just your ears.

his cock’s searching through your wet, gripping walls as if it had some sort of life purpose.

“hah- me t.. too, sweetheart,” and fuck, satoru’s drowning in his sweat. “phew-” satoru brings the back of his wrist to wipe some from his forehead. glancing down, he stares at your jouncing ass before giving you one, snappingly deep thrust.

“pussy’s a fuckin’ workout- oh shiiiiit.” and satoru’s feeling you clamp clamp clamp down on him, giving his dick the work of its life.

you could feel the individual staticky pulses of your clit signaling messages to you that you’re just so close and you’re nearly salivating inside of your mouth.

soooo good.. for a moment you forgot the two of you were still in the back of a limousine.

he’s fucking you so good that you could barely think straight.

satoru’s still playing with your pussy, giving it spanks in between his robust thrusts.

his rotund tip beat red, an oxblood blush of red as he continued to ram a heart-shaped sloppy kiss toward your clit.

at that moment, your legs cutely retreated and your chest collapsed forward. “feels s.. sooo good satoru, ngh- ‘toruuu!”

as your body spasmed at the onslaught of his reckless, sloppy thrusts - your hips were all the way raised against his lap.

you’re losing track of thoughts as you’re harshly creaming down his shaft, murmuring out cute little babbles of ‘ooohs’ once you feel his angle deepen.

satoru brings a hand down your fleshy back, staring at your skin that was wetly decorated with sweat while studying the goosebumps that ran down your spine.

“ ‘m gonna.. hah- cum,” he groans, a few stubby fingers thrumming down the gold waist beads that wrapped around your waist.

he brings his thumb toward the tiny ‘G.S.’ initials before pressing his honed-shaped pelvis wholly into you with just a single, barbaric thrust.

“all mine, my pretty… hah- wife.”

wife?

you heard that — you definitely heard it, but part of you wondered if maybe satoru was just overly pussy drunk as usual.

but the thought alone - the thought of actually being his wife of satoru gojo, your sugar daddy, didn’t seem too bad.

as the image of you walking down the aisle crossed your mind, your throbbing brought you straight back into orgasmic reality.

“wait.. hnng- pull out,” you’d moan, another idea popping into your head. instead of satoru usually finishing inside, you had a better idea.

“haah- ‘kay,” he pants, his snapping hips working overtime as they continually mercilessly plunge deep into your heated core.

his rhythm was far slower, but his thrusts were always in such a hurried frenzy.

he’s close - so so close.

you’re still covered with his cum from before from the legs down, and it paints such a pretty canvas on you.

a lewd, erotic canvas maybe..

quickly, satoru ends up pulling out with a hand wrapped around his cock that painfully throbbed. it scrunched up a bit at the sudden coldness, already missing your clingy warmth before you flip over.

“h.. hm?”

“ ‘toru, put ‘em between here.” you spoke in a hushed tone, sinking your knees into the limo’s velveteen-made seats.

he hungrily stares at you with nothing but lust surrounding the entirety of his rounded, dilated pupils. at your sweet, breathy word of ‘here,’ you brought two hands up to your breasts.

“naughty… temptress,” satoru clicks his tongue. aligning his swollen dick in between the crack of your sweat-dripping chest, it easily sliiiiiides its way through.

he watches intently as you squeeze your tits together, glancing up at him with those pretty, siren eyes of yours that were starting to droop.

“mmh,” and as his tip disappears between the slot of your chest, you hang your head down, flicking your tongue across the tender slit of his shaft.

“f- fuck, ‘m gonna cum. can’t- hold it anymore, sweets,” satoru groans, his words so guttural ‘n low that they sounded almost like a growl.

he knew he wasn’t gonna last much longer, not when you were on your knees—stuffing his dick right between your perked tits.

he’s sloppily starting to thrust his cock in and out between the valley of your breasts and felt himself throb at each cute jounce they created amongst each other.

so …. soft.

satoru’s achy tip was forming into an angry shade of bloodshot red, and the entirety of his shaft was smoldering from the stimulation. after a few long milliseconds though—he finds himself shooting white blanks again.

he’s fucking between your tits as you held them together, spraying a nice sum of his load onto your chest. you gasp, a bit landing on your lip and you lick it.

satoru’s moaning - no, grunting as he’s finishing against your breasts. he drags a shaky hand through his tousled, white hair before letting off a deep, heavy sigh.

“ohhh… fuck,” he grumbles, the tips of his ears burning a fiery pink.

his limp cock now remains idle, still buried between your tits before you slide your tongue across the leaking creamed tip.

it’s so glossy, dribbling from all sides with his pasty mess plastered on the upper part of your chest. “didn’t know i had.. such a dirty sweethe- fuck.”

satoru pauses for theatrics — holding his breath, thinking he was still cumming, but he wasn’t.

his mind was simply playing tricks, and his jaw clenched once you lapped up the remnants of bittersweet tasting cum that splattered on you. you used your thumb to reach the spots your tongue couldn’t, and once you were finished, satoru bent down to pull you into a fervent, deep kiss.

you moaned against his lips as the limousine still created miles upon miles. you lost track of time, but you’d guess it’s probably been well over an hour's drive.

“mng-” satoru grunts into your lips, feeling your arms wrap around him. he still had his button-up shirt on the entire time along with his suit just above his torso. he’s tasting himself on your lips, grunting once he felt your hand tug on his ruffled black tie.

your tongue was sticky, swirling a circular pattern around the inside of his mouth before you sucked on his.

satoru allowed you to make him get underneath you, and he felt your legs crawling on top of him.

as you’re both still deeply making out — fighting each other with sharp slaps of teeth smacking against each other, you gingerly pull away.

“i’m your wife now?”

“h.. hm?”

“earlier,” you lick near the corner of his lip. “you said ‘m your pretty wife.”

satoru gives you a sleazy lopsided grin. he looked so pussy drunk that he almost forgot about that tiny piece of dialogue that spouted from his lips.

“ah, i did call you my wife, didn’t i, sweets?” and as a thumb caresses around your cheek, he hoarsely whispers. “well, do you want to be?”

bringing a wet, torrid kiss toward his bottom crooked lip, you hummed. “i do.”

“wish you would’ve told me sooner though,” he sheepishly says, giving his tie a few meek pulls. “i could’ve proposed the right way but.. this is fine too, i gues-.”

“shhh-” you silence him with yet another barrage of kisses, cupping his face.

satoru grunts, hearing the little jangles of your waist brands yet again as your hips laboriously swayed against him.

your forehead is pressed against his and its hit with a bunch of sweat from satoru.

satoru moans from your ardent, vehement kisses, his lips being left all plump, reddened, and not to mention swollen all because of you.

his dick twitches—a prominent vein striking near the left side as you steadily moved your dripping pussy against it in slow, ravishing rocks. “lie back,” you whispered, playfully pushing him back against the seat.

satoru reclines back with a ‘hmph’ and he raises a silvery brow at your audacity. “lie back ‘n let your fiancé ride you again.”

“heh.. yes, mrs. gojo.”

[occasionalsnippets]

I’m curious about Tim and MC’s relationship.

Like, is Tim grateful for the fact that MC took care of him?

Does he know that MC took his shifts as Robin so he wouldn’t deal with B’s bad days/nights?

Does he know that Jack and Janet didn’t really like MC?

How much does he resent Jack and Janet?

How does he bond/show his love for his sibling?

Also, how would the members of the Batfam bond with MC? (Before and After Damian snitched)

And what do the Batfam think of MC?

- Storm.Anon

Focusing on just Tim for this! Send another ask for other Batfam members owo because I do want to individually dig into each relationship.

Taglist: @dragondevinity, @lonely-star2044, @sheep-from-rad, @ilxandra, @thethingwiththefeathers, @star-wars-lycanwing-bat, @sackofsadstuff, @zonked-times, @paastaboi, @venfia, @fantasy-angelo, @linaisadream, @shirp-collector-of-fixations

Their relationship is both less complicated and more complicated than it should be. On one hand, you’re Tim's older sister-caretaker-parental figure-best friend- who can’t be categorized neatly into any singular category. On the other hand, none of those categories matter when you are the person he trusts more than anyone else in the world. More than he trusts himself.

Your parents do not hate you. You were an accident (huge, immensely big, giant accident) but they do care for you in some nebulous, difficult to discern, rich-people kind of way. They give you all the money you could want. They teach you the rules of high society and how to deal with the company. They try. Sometimes.

In many ways, you are their protege and student before a lot of things but you are still your mother’s child. A reflection of Janet Drake in every way that matters with a mind like a steel trap and a mouth that murmurs sweet poison. It is one of the main things Tim notes as a child when he thinks of you and mother.

The biggest mark against your parents, really, is the neglect. Their children weren’t their number one priority and both you and Tim knew. They could be worse. They could be better. C+ parenting all around.

Tim’s view on Jack and Janet are a bit fickle? Inconsistent? Complicated? He had wished for a very long time when he was younger for them to come home more often but he never really processed the whole situation until you forced everyone to get therapy. There’s quiet sadness in his feelings about his parents but not really resentment, not like you.

Not that those feelings have anywhere to go anymore. Both of you still grieved during their funerals.

Tim gives you gifts on mother and father's day and overtime the message written in the cards attached get longer and sillier. He still remembers the stillness of your initial reaction when he first presented you with a card.

He hadn't really noticed how much you did behind the scenes until he got older and realized you were internalizing a hell of a lot of things. His early days of existence are marked by your ever encompassing presence in his life. His parents leave. You stay. You always stay even as he digs himself into the pit that is becoming Robin.

He can always rely on you. If there is any truth in his life then it is that you will always be there for him. So, when you tell him with dark shadows cast upon your face that he shouldn't go out as Robin tonight, he accepts with minor protests.

You keep detailed reports on patrol to keep everyone updated when you're filling in as Robin and the ones from Tim's early days are... rough. Tim reads them because of course he does, and talks with you about it. A lot. You insist that he shouldn't have to deal with Batman because Tim is like 13 and Tim keeps saying that he chose this. So, the two of you compromise on it. Teamwork makes the dream work, right?

No one else really reads the old patrol reports. What happens during the early days stays between you and Tim and Bruce. Tim thinks Bruce still feels guilty about it, about both him and you.

Tim shows affection for you the same way you show affection. He'll go to company meetings in your steed. He learns to cook and bring meals to you when you're too busy. He orders materials for your hobbies whenever he notices you're running out.

Your relationship is not immune to normal sibling shenanigans though. You yell, you fight, he stands a centimetre away from the entrance of your room for no apparent reason, the two of you want to kill each other sometimes because "mother and father always liked you better-" and "I never wanted to raise you-"

You and Tim are so crazily co-dependent even if it isn't obvious. You're a bit less dependent than he is but you've also revolved your life around him and everything you do is basically for him so how true that statement is can be debated.

Sometimes you think you need him in order to be allowed to exist. There is no role for you except in reference to him, to your little brother who you'd give the world to.

Tim literally doesn't know how he'd survive or live without you. You taught him unconditional love. You're his favourite person. You've always protected him. He can't fathom the idea of existing without you.

You're impossible to separate from him and him from you. Aren't the two of you one and the same? Where does one end and the other begin? Who is he if not a reflection of you and who you raised him to be?

Alsjfjak so yeah. The Siblings. Them.

[burningembers91]

A Voice Like Honey - Kang Dae-Ho x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Kang Dae-Ho doesn’t want to follow in his father’s footsteps. After running from the life his father had planned for him, he meets you. But he can’t seem to find the words to tell you how he feels

Kang Dae-Ho had always been more of a lover than a fighter. He’d never enjoyed playing Call of Duty or watching violent movies like his friends did. He always steered clear of the fights that broke out in school, or the rough games kids played in the schoolyard. He was scared of pretty much everything - the dark, snakes, spiders, the feeling of going upstairs and thinking someone or something is chasing after you. Dae-Ho would rather sit and daydream all day, and spent many a day dreaming about the life he’d lead one day. he was a talented musician, able to play any song after hearing it only once. His voice was like soft, warm caramel, and he was never short of girls hanging onto his every lyric.

But the life of an artist wasn’t the life his dad had in mind for him. He was a proud army veteran and had served his country for many years, just as his father had, and his father before him. Dae-Ho was the only son he had, and his father expected, or rather insisted that Dae-Ho follow in his father’s footsteps. A musician was no life for his son, and it would be the greatest dishonour to be made a fool of.

So Dae-Ho enlisted for his mandatory service in the military as soon as he left school. He thought that’s what his father wanted. He figured that after he’d served his duty to his country, he’d be free to pursue music. Dae-Ho hated his time in the military. The sound of gunfire terrified him, the late nights and early mornings, the extreme physical toughness almost broke him. But he father expected more, expected him to carry on once his mandatory service was over. Every day he would press leaflets and phone numbers into his son’s hands, send him advertisements for open days with the army and marines. Dae-Ho had never been able to stand up to his tyrant of a father, so he begrudgingly attended an interview with the marines. He was cleared for basic training, and his father was over the moon. But Dae-Ho couldn’t do it. The thought of returning to a place that still gave him nightmares was more than he could take. Instead of enlisting, Dae-Ho packed his bag and ran. He had money saved up, and he wanted to see the world.

He started in America, then moved to Europe, staying over in hostels and motels. He made lifelong friends, played his music in pubs and bars in tiny towns and villages. He grew his hair, tattooed his body, did everything he knew his father would disapprove of. When his money began to dwindle, he returned to Seoul, taking up a job in a bar that allowed him to sing a few nights a week. It didn’t make him much money, but it made him happy.

The bar was where he met you, another fellow songwriter with a voice like honey. He got lost in your words, your voice carrying him on a wave of emotion he’d never felt before. You sang together a few times, your voices in perfect harmony as your double act packed out the bar.

Dae-Ho had been with his fair share of women while travelling, but none of them made him feel like you did. He was like a nervous schoolboy around you, tripping over his words. But when the two of you sang, it was like you were made for each other. Each night, he tried to gather the courage to ask you out. He would walk you to your apartment, but could never seem to find the words to express his feelings.

You were perfect in every way, but Dae-Ho had always been a coward. He was too scared to tell his dad why he ran away, and he was too scared to tell you how he felt. He hadn’t spoken to his family in 18 months, too terrified to face them after disappointing them so badly. So he spent his nights at the bar, singing and serving drinks, and watching the woman with the voice of an angel, wondering when he’d be brave enough to bare his soul to her.

[penelopeswifey]

ACCIDENTALLY YOURS!

CHAPTER 3 — WEIRDO!

a/n: so.. hey.. happy new year.. merry christmas... happy halloween. I'm SORRY FOR SAYING ID UPDATE MORE THEN LEAVING AND NEVER COMING BACK. I really forgot about Tumblr after a few days ☹️☹️ but HERE I hope you all had a good 2024 and a even better 2025!!

You just sat on your chair, contemplating life while deciding if you even wanted to live it

This is so humiliating.

Just when you thought your day couldn't get worse, you got a notification from someone you would rather die than talk to.

There is no fucking way.

Y/N stared at their phone screen, frozen.

" Funny how you kept whining about how overrated I was, wanna talk about those stories you've made? "

No. No. No.

The words burned into your brain as you read them over and over again. Scaramouche. THE Scaramouche.. The idol you dragged through the mud on countless streams and tweets. The same idol who was, apparently, now aware of your other identity.. the anonymous fanfiction writer who had single-handedly written half the internet’s “Scaramouche x Reader” content. The same person who shitted on him so much time!

You dropped your phone onto the desk and buried your face in your hands. Nope. This isn’t real. This is all a dream. It can’t be real. Why would it be real? There’s no way this is real. But when you peeked through your fingers, the message was still there, on the phone like it demanded your attention.

“Why.. why is this happening to me?” you whispered to yourself. Your brain was screaming at you to respond, but also screaming at you to jump out of your window where you could die or move to the countryside and become a farmer. But your fingers refused to move. What could you even say?

" Haha, just a prank, broski! " No, too weird. Who the hell says that.

" That wasn't me!.. " Yeah, because your whole stream was definitely ai generated.

No, none of this would work.

Maybe you could ignore it. Pretend you didn’t see the message. But what if he posted about it? What if he already had? But, he couldn't right?! He's an idol.. but just out of paranoia, you frantically opened Twitter, scanning his feed. Nothing. Yet.

Dropping your phone back onto the desk, you screamed into your hands begging to be taken out. But you were going through that crisis, your phone buzzed again. Another message.

“Oh no, oh no, oh no,” you muttered as you grabbed their phone.

Please don't be him again.

" I have to say, you’ve got quite the imagination. Because some of those scenarios? Bold. "

Your soul left your body. He read them. He actually read them. How many? Which ones? Did he see the one where he- no. nope, nope, nope. don't you dare think about that.

Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard, shaking. After a deep breath, you typed something anything- to atleast be able to solve this issue!

“ I can explain? 😁.. "

The response was immediate.

"Oh, please do. I'm very interested. "

You let out a strangled noise somewhere between a groan and a scream. Why did he have to be so smug about this?! This was his fault!, with his stupid face and his stupid voice and his stupid way of being the perfect material to write about! This is all his fault he knows damn well how he's acting In front of the camera does he expect no one to be taking one for the team and writing about him?!

“Look,” you typed, trying to sound calm, “it’s not like I’m the only one who writes this stuff. You just happened to find mine. "

His reply came in less than ten seconds.

“ Not hard to find when you've basically written half of the internet's fanfiction about me. "

You nearly chucked your phone across the room. Yes, death is definitely a better option, where's the nearest window? You couldn't even think straight before you typed back and sent

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” you shot back

“ Oh, absolutely. This is the best thing I’ve seen all week. Do you always write such... intense stuff, or was it just for me? "

There's no coming back from that. You groaned, slamming your head onto the desk. There was no way you were living this down. Ever.

Driven by emotions instead of rationality, you texted back.

“I hate you.”

Another buzz.

“Doesn’t seem like it, judging by what you've written about me. "

You let out a soundless scream, shoving your chair back and pacing around the room, making laps as you ran around the house. Your heart was racing, your face felt like it was on fire.. out of embarrassment of course, NOT because you're interacting with THE scaramouche- the same one who in your fics did- yeah, stop.

Ignoring the continuous buzz of notifications erupting from your phone, you finally sat down from running laps and thought to yourself, knowing you just pulled yourself in a hole you sure as hell won't be escaping anytime soon.

He wasn't going to let this go, was he?

—

ACCIDENTALLY YOURS!

SYPNOSIS: You, a well-known streamer, have always kept your two hobbies separate. By day, you entertain thousands with your snarky commentary, but by night, you secretly write. fanfiction about your favorite idol, Balladeer. It was a guilty pleasure—until a late-night stream led to a slip of the tongue and exposed your secret to the world!

In a single moment of poor judgment and a misclick, which by the way was totally not your fault!.. I think.. clips and memes about you spread like wildfire! It was embarrassing enough for everyone to know about your fanfiction, but it spiraled down even further when they discovered you were writing about the very idol you  constantly claimed was overrated.

Just as you wallowed in self-pity, a notification pings on your phone. A familiar username and a blue checkmark.

Shit.

accidentally yours masterlist: chapter 4 —

-

taglist

@kaeuri @kazumiku @kyouzki @skyoverkill1 @flowzel @lalalaloveallmydays @sketcheeee @vi0let-writes @kunikuzushis-darling @js-a-silly-little-guy @simonisferal @jayzioxx @naevis-callingae @vxmp-loml @dxrling-xing  @suzueuieeeee @kinanahan @help-whatdoimakemyusername @khisuko @dearanemo @heusalettle @v4lerixxq @catorkitty @khsuvy @reivelmin

[winksasleeplesseye]

SUMMARY: Leon returns from a mission, same as always. But something is different as he closed his eyes to sleep.

PAIRING: Leon Kennedy x F!Reader

WARNINGS: Mostly angst for now. Also no editing we die like men around these parts

[MASTERLIST][NEXT]

It all started with a dream. And no, not in the way you’d think. Leon, having completed his latest mission as the government's best lap dog—asset, had returned home to what he could deem some sense of normalcy. Well, as much as he could have from his days as a cop to now. A monotonous routine he’d settled into that provided some semblance of that…normalcy.

Wake up, eat, shower, go to the office, paperwork for mission reports, go home, sleep, repeat. Of course, the added benefit of missions—despite their punishing nature, helped break it up enough that Leon never could pinpoint the lack of what he was missing. What he’d been missing for a long time. You. When he thought of how his life panned out in the wake of the Raccoon City incident, Spain, and other incidents too many to count on one hand, he drifted back to you. Both of you had met that fateful night, both of you with similar stories to one another. Both of you sharing in a bond that failed to measure up to anything else Leon had ever known in his 21 years of living at that time. He hated to overthink it, it was just one evening after all and he had an awful tendency to fall too hard, too fast but he remembered your shared glances, your easy words, all of it during and after the incident—he couldn’t have imagined that. Was this always how things were meant to be? Leon could say with confidence, he did more existing than living. And most days, he was fine with that. As fine as one could be, given the circumstances. But that evening when he closed his eyes, expecting his usual nightmares that often woke him up in a cold sweat….he found something different. Sunlight streamed through the blinds of his apartment, filtered only the added curtains over them. The warmth of the sun hit right into eyes and for some reason, he couldn’t recall the last time it had ever been so nice outside. At least by DC weather standards lately. He fought to push himself from out of the covers but similar to the warmth of the sun, another warmth was emanating next to him in bed. A person. Shit. Did he bring someone home? Why couldn’t he remember that? He cautiously chanced a look closer to the body, hidden under the covers as they cling to them. Stirring briefly, the person that turned over was…you. Your eyes were closed, chest slowly rising and falling. You. You were asleep in his bed. He couldn’t recollect the last time he’d seen you since…. “If you’re going to stare, a photo would do you wonders, Mr. Kennedy,” you spoke up, voice a tad groggy but your eyes were still closed. Your smile was undeniable though. At first, Leon didn’t know what to say. You spoke as if this were an everyday, normal occurrence. Waking up together. Being together. Something nagged at the back of Leon’s mind. Was he going crazy? Was this even real? Okay, focus. He just needed to do what he usually did to start his day. You weren’t actually there, his brain was just trying to make sense of the chaos of his waking life no matter how much he believed it was normal. Without a word, Leon practically threw the covers off and pressed his feet into the cold, hardwood floor. His feet padded against it, still felt fairly real. Pressure of his feet to the floor didn’t make it seem like he’d float away. Once in the bathroom, he ran his hands under the faucet. Cold water sent the same sensation it always did to his nerves and he ran the water over his face.

Still bitingly cold. Still real. He lifted his eyes to the mirror, seeing himself like he always had. Same tired eyes, same hair, same Leon. But still the constant of you also rising from the bed from his peripheral vision. Leon tries to convince himself that maybe he got something in his eyes as he rubbed them furiously. Then arms wrap around his waist from behind, your cheek glued to his back. Your hands began tracing over his skin, soft but firm. His mind had to be playing a trick on him, he can feel the pressure, the heat of you against him. No one’s mind could conjure up sensations like that. Not even Leon’s. “Hmm, a response would’ve been appreciated, mister,” you said as you cling to Leon. You sound like you’re playfully pouting, he turned his eyes over his shoulder to see you were, in fact. You were there. Holding him like you didn’t want to let go. For a moment, Leon slips into this, plays along. “Ah, I’m sorry,” he turned around, cupped your face, fingers grazing your jaw as he stared into what was assuredly your eyes that he remembered. The same soft, sweet eyes. Underneath the bright, rather harsh bathroom light, he could see their same clarity. Leon’s mind often had a funny way of muddling the details of you but as you stood here in his arms, you became more real. Every single detail he could feel as he ran his hands down your skin, the softness, the heat, the scent as he pressed his lips to your neck briefly. You pulled back, eyes filled with a quiet affection but he didn’t miss the small bit of confusion, “You’re being…strange,” you murmured, but there was no judgment in your voice, only that soft smile of understanding that he loved so much. You ran a hand over his forehead, “You sure that last mission didn’t give a head injury? Or a fever?” He grabbed your hands, placing them around his neck. “No, I promise, everything’s all good.” He smiled faintly, a sense of contentment spreading across his face. “No head injury or fever, feel like a million bucks,” he spoke. He leaned down, pressing his lips gently against yours, tasting the sweetness of your lips had him convinced this had to be real. He wasn’t sure how but he wouldn’t question it. Your laughter against his lips, echoed softly. But your voice was slowly muffling, fading into the haze of his subconscious as if whatever this is was beginning to slip away. He could feel it: the cool edge of awareness, the creeping pull of waking. But he pushed through, kissing you once more, the sensation seemed to fade a little more, like it was slipping through his fingers, like you were.

For a moment, the world stood still. The sound of his heartbeat, the feel of your warmth against him, the light touch of your hand on his cheek—it was all so real. Too real to be anything but true. He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, eyes closed, trying to hold on. “I don’t want to wake up,” he muttered, almost in disbelief, like the words themselves could prevent the inevitable. Before you could respond, Leon shot up from his bed. The familiar jolt that startled him into awake as always. Less fear behind it this time. Still, his heart hammered in his chest as he sat up, stiff as a board. All he could see was the dull, gray reality of his apartment, the harsh light of the morning seeping in through the blinds. The bed was empty. The room was silent. His hand shot out instinctively to the side, reaching for something that wasn’t there. His fingers brushed against the cold, empty sheets. No you. No warmth. The air in the room felt almost offensively sharp, pricking at his skin rather than a comforting cool. A stark contrast between his dream and the dullness of the world he inhabited was too much to stand right now. The echoes of the dream clung to him like a shadow. Everything felt so…real. Leon ran a hand over his face, frustration and a longing mixing in his chest, the ache of loss—one for which he had never addressed with you, intensified. The soft weight of you in his arms, the way they had kissed, a promise of a life Leon had never imagined. Until now.

Leon tried. He did. The fleeting glimpse of what his dream offered was nothing more than that, a dream. But still, Leon couldn’t help but to let his mind wander in his waking hours the next day. A new change to his routine. He worked more efficiently, only for the slight hope he could continue his dream. With you by his side. He couldn’t deny that his heart ached. Ached at how life had turned out and what could’ve been and it was as if his mind decided to bring the reminders to the forefront after all this time. The small moment of domesticity, a moment so genuinely normal and ordinary felt so surreal. Leon never actually envisioned it for himself. Not after everything. Just didn’t seem like it could be in the cards for him. He was relegated to one role and one role only and he never had the determination to prove himself wrong. That he could do both. Have a partner and be an agent. Have someone to come home to. He certainly couldn’t and wouldn’t have expected to have that with you either. The government kept you both separated for a reason, one he’d never understand. Again, he tried to reason with himself and chalk it up to just his brain doing what it does. Why did everything feel so real then? Explain that, Kennedy. He could still taste the sweetness of her lips, feel their pressure against his. God, he had to just be going crazy. That had to be it. Why of all times does this happen now? At the end of the work day, he decided to fight sleep. Upon entering his apartment, he instead lounged on the couch and switched on late night television. The television glowed dimly in the apartment, its flickering images casting muted light across the room. The sound of a late-night talk show droned on, the host’s laughter echoing faintly in the background. Leon sat slouched on the couch, his dinner forgotten on the coffee table. There was enough nonsense on the screen that Leon assumed he had given himself enough stimulation to not fall asleep or really even think. The room, the city, the world seemed quiet, but that actually did nothing to quiet his mind. He found himself gazing aimlessly around the room. Not much decor on the walls, the furniture functioned—so, so hollow. His eyes settled on the far wall, the noise of the TV becoming faint to his ears, and that’s when he assumed he was going crazy as images came to his mind. With you. They crept up like a thief in the night, but part of him seemed to subconsciously want them to. In the dim light of his apartment, he could almost see you. You, leaning against that wall, your arms crossed with a teasing smirk on your face. “You think you’re so smooth, Kennedy,” you said, stepping closer. Your voice was playful, but your eyes held a heat that made his breath hitch. He saw himself—dream Leon he assumed—taking a step forward, closing the gap between them. “And you don’t?” he shot back, his voice low, his lips tugging into a half-smile. Before he could say anything else, you grabbed his collar and pushed him against the wall with surprising strength. Their lips met, and the heat between them was instant, overwhelming. Leon blinked, and the vision dissolved. The wall was just a wall again, bare and unremarkable. Leon’s eyes drifted to the cushion next to him, an almost transparent version of you manifesting sitting next to him, fingers lightly brushing his. He could feel it—the warmth of your touch, the way your thumb idly stroked his knuckles as they sat side by side. Another scene played in his mind. You had turned toward him, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “You know what I love about you?” You had asked, tilting your head. “What’s that?” Another Leon had replied, his voice soft, but his heart thundered all the same in his chest. You had smiled, leaning in close. “That you’re still so easy to fluster.” You kissed him then, slow and deliberate, your lips brushing his as if savoring the moment.

The talk show host’s voice pulled him back to reality, and Leon rubbed a hand over his face, letting out a heavy sigh. The television’s glow felt oppressive now, highlighting the emptiness of the room. He stared at the blank wall across from him, his heart aching with every memory that wasn’t real but felt like it should have been. The visions were so vivid, so vibrant, as though his mind had painted a life he could never truly have. The silence in the apartment grew deafening, and for a moment, Leon almost reached out—toward a version of you, the dream of you. But his hand fell back to his lap, and he closed his eyes, leaning his head against the couch. “Damn it,” he whispered into the quiet, his voice raw. “I’m losing it.”

And yet, despite his assessment, he began to welcome it. If he was able to have momentary reprieve, happiness in his dreams? He’d take it. Over the next few days, his mind would again drift. The more dreams, the more they bled into reality and sometimes he couldn’t tell what came from his memories or what came from the dreams. He’d sit in his office, the faint scent of ink and coffee heavy in the air, hearing things he’d think you’d say in the moments that the monotony dragged. Which only made him realize just how mind-numbing it all was. Tedious, this kind of work dulled the edges of his mind. But today, it felt sharper—every word, every line of text seemed to echo with something missing. He signed his name at the bottom of a form and paused, his pen hovering over the paper. Your voice drifted through his thoughts, clear as if you were sitting across from him. “You’ve got the worst handwriting I’ve ever seen. Are you sure you’re not a doctor?” A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, unbidden and fleeting. His eyes flicked to the empty chair on the other side of the desk, and for a moment, he could almost see you there. Your hair pulled back, a teasing smile on your lips as you slid a takeout box across the desk. “Thought you could use something that wasn’t brewed in the office swamp,” you’d say, pulling chopsticks from your bag and settling in like you belonged there. Leon blinked, and the vision dissolved, leaving only the empty chair and the stack of paperwork. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself back to the task at hand.

At the end of the day, he held a flickering sense of hope that he’d be able to see you again in his dream tonight. It was where you were as real as the air he breathed. Your head laid against his chest, soft steady breaths coming from you. A quiet comfort that anchored him in the hazy realm between sleep and awake. Your scent—familiar and impossibly soothing—permeated the air, wrapping around him like a memory made flesh. He’d continue to convince himself that his mind could never replicate something like that. The sensation as your fingers brushed over his, squeezing his hand in yours, made his chest ache as he looked at you. All of this felt so right. The scene shifted before his eyes and he now watched you move around their shared kitchen, wearing one of his shirts as the fabric brushed your thighs as you flipped pancakes with ease. Your hair was slightly mussed from sleep, humming a tune under your breath that seemed vaguely familiar. The heat from kitchen coupled with the faint clicking of the spatula and your humming—it was so real. “Breakfast will be done soon,” you said without looking up, your voice light and teasing. “Unless you want to keep staring at me like a lovesick puppy. In that case, I can take my time.” Leon smiled, his heart swelling at the ease in your tone. He stepped closer, his socked feet soundless on the floor. “Maybe I like staring.” “You’re very smooth in the morning, aren’t you?” You smirked in his direction. “I am. Hard not to be when you look like this,” He grinned, leaning against the counter, closer to you. You chuckled. “You are trouble, Agent Kennedy.” How could he convince himself this wasn’t real? The scent of the sweet batter of pancakes. The ticking clock all gave credence to this not being a dream. It was all clearer and sharper than any dream he’d had before. Leon stared, his gaze intense. He wanted to stay in this moment, his heart swelling with a fullness he hadn’t experienced in a while. In this dream, this moment, everything was perfect. He didn’t want to wake up.

[kathlare]

city of reflections

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: In the heart of New York City, Lando navigates the overwhelming energy of the metropolis while grappling with memories of a past love that seems inescapable.

Wordcount: 1.4 k

Warnings: just fluff

June 12th, 2023 - New York City, NY

The streets of New York buzzed with an energy that Lando Norris had never experienced before. It was his first time in the city, and everything about it was overwhelming—the towering skyscrapers, the symphony of car horns, the chaotic dance of pedestrians navigating the crowded sidewalks. Even for someone used to the adrenaline of a Formula 1 race, the intensity of New York was a lot to take in.

He had arrived a couple of days earlier for a campaign shoot with Tumi. The brand’s sleek travel bags had always been a favorite of his, and the opportunity to work with them in the heart of Manhattan felt like a milestone. But today was a rare free day on his packed schedule, and he was determined to make the most of it.

—Ready to hit the town, mate?— Martin Garrix’s voice broke through Lando’s thoughts as they stepped out of their hotel. The Dutch DJ had been in the city for a gig and decided to join Lando for some sightseeing. They were an unlikely pair in many ways, but their friendship had become one of the few constants in Lando’s unpredictable life.

—Let’s do it,— Lando replied, adjusting his cap as they hailed a cab to Times Square.

As they approached the iconic hub, the sheer magnitude of it hit him like a punch to the gut. Neon lights flashed everywhere, billboards stretched high into the sky, and the air was filled with a cacophony of voices and music. But what struck Lando most wasn’t the scale of Times Square—it was the face staring down at him from nearly every corner.

Amelie.

Her image was everywhere. On a massive screen promoting her new tour. On a billboard for a luxury perfume ad. On a digital poster for the upcoming trailer of Wicked. It was as if the city itself was reminding him of what he had lost.

—Holy shit,— Martin said, nudging Lando. —She’s really killing it, huh?—

Lando forced a smile, his chest tightening. —Yeah. She always does.—

They walked through the bustling square, Martin chattering about the city’s energy, but Lando couldn’t focus. All he could see was Amelie—her face, her smile, her unmistakable presence. He remembered how she used to talk about New York, how much she loved the city and its chaos. She’d always said it felt like anything was possible here.

And now, she was everywhere, larger than life, while he felt impossibly small.

—You good?— Martin asked as they stopped to take a selfie with the billboards in the background.

—Yeah, just... thinking,— Lando replied, slipping his hands into his pockets. He didn’t elaborate, and Martin didn’t press him.

The two continued walking, weaving through the throngs of tourists and locals, but Lando couldn’t shake the hollow feeling in his chest. Every step he took, every turn of his head, Amelie was there. Her face seemed to follow him, her gaze piercing through him from glossy posters and digital screens. It wasn’t just her physical presence that haunted him—it was the memories that came rushing back with every glance.

He remembered late-night phone calls where she’d talk about her dreams, the way her eyes lit up when she talked about performing, and how she’d laughed when he joked about being her groupie one day. He’d always thought their paths would run parallel forever, somehow intertwined no matter where life took them. But now, it felt like their worlds couldn’t be farther apart.

—Alright, next stop, Empire State Building,— Martin announced, pulling Lando out of his thoughts.

They hopped in another cab and made their way to the towering landmark. As they climbed to the observation deck, the city sprawled out beneath them like a living, breathing organism. The wind whipped around them as Martin leaned against the railing, taking in the view.

—So, what’s up with you and Magui?— Martin asked suddenly, cutting through the silence. His tone was casual, but the question landed like a sucker punch.

Lando exhaled sharply, leaning forward and gripping the cold metal railing. —There’s nothing up with me and Magui. We’re not... It’s not like that.—

Martin raised an eyebrow, turning to face him. —Come on, man. You’ve been seen with her enough times for people to start talking. She seems cool. Isn’t she, like... your type?—

Lando let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. —No, she’s not. Not really. She’s fun, and she’s nice, but... it’s not serious. It’ll never be serious.— He paused, his voice dropping as he stared out over the city. —Not if it’s not with her.—

Martin frowned, catching the shift in Lando’s tone. —Her?— he asked carefully, though he already had a good idea who Lando was talking about.

Lando didn’t answer right away. He just gazed out at the endless horizon, the city lights twinkling like stars. Finally, he sighed, the weight of his regret bleeding into his words. —Amelie. It’s always her.—

Martin stayed quiet for a moment, letting Lando’s confession hang in the air. —I thought you two... I mean, I know you had a thing, but it’s been a while, hasn’t it? She’s with someone else now, right? Rodrigo?—

—Yeah,— Lando muttered, the name tasting bitter on his tongue. —She’s with him. And I’m... whatever this is. Floating. Distracting myself. Pretending I don’t care when I do. Pretending I don’t miss her when I can’t fucking stop thinking about her.—

Martin studied his friend, his usual lighthearted demeanor replaced by something more serious. —So why don’t you do something about it?—

Lando scoffed, running a hand through his hair. —It’s not that simple, mate. We ended badly. Really badly. She doesn’t even talk to me anymore. I don’t think she’d want to hear from me, let alone give me another chance.—

—You sure about that?— Martin asked, his tone almost challenging. —Because from the way you’re talking, it sounds like you’re still hung up on her. And if she meant that much to you, maybe it’s worth trying. Worst she can do is tell you to fuck off, right?—

Lando chuckled humorlessly. —Yeah, that’s probably exactly what she’d do. And honestly, I’d deserve it.—

Martin shook his head, his voice firm. —You don’t know that. Look, man, I’m not saying you should go storming into her life uninvited, but if you still feel this strongly about her after all this time, maybe that says something. Maybe it’s not over.—

Lando wanted to believe that, but the doubt clung to him like a shadow. —I hurt her, Martin. I didn’t fight for her when I should have, and I let her down when she needed me. She’s better off without me.—

—You don’t know that either,— Martin countered. —People fuck up. It happens. But if you’re still standing here, thinking about her while her face is on every billboard, maybe it’s because deep down, you know she’s not just another chapter in your life. Maybe she’s the whole damn book.—

Lando swallowed hard, his chest tightening at the thought. He wanted to believe there was still a chance, that he hadn’t completely lost her. But the weight of his mistakes felt insurmountable, and the idea of reaching out to her—of facing her and her pain—was terrifying.

They stood in silence for a while, the city stretching out endlessly below them. Finally, Martin clapped Lando on the back, his voice lighter now. —Come on, mate. Let’s get a drink. You look like you need one.—

Lando nodded, forcing a small smile as they turned to leave the observation deck. But as they descended the Empire State Building and rejoined the chaos of the city below, he couldn’t shake the image of Amelie’s face, larger than life, staring down at him from every corner.

Maybe Martin was right. Maybe it wasn’t over.

Or maybe it was, and he just couldn’t bring himself to let go.

[r0seb100d]

so like. dallas x reader where like. reader is in some theatre thing (guys and dolls in the only relevant ish musical i can think of for the time.. mayb reader is playing adalaide idk!!) but like. he comes to see the show n is like damn that was hot let’s go home ong maybe it gets freaky eye dee kay.

can u tell i’ve never done an ask b4

Thank you for the request, I decided to keep it pg, I hope you enjoy! 🤍

Warnings: fem!reader, kissing

I like to light up the stage with a song

Nothing could beat the pure adrenaline rush of being on stage. The music, dance, costumes, makeup, and the cheers from the audience all flowed through y/n’s veins, fueling her with life and excitement.

She especially loved the current musical she was in, Guys and Dolls, as she had gotten her dream role of Miss Adelaide, the stubborn and outspoken nightclub singer. 

Every minute of rehearsal and performance brought a smile to her face, and it saddened her that this would be their final night. 

As she powdered her face in front of her teal light-up mirror, she thought of her plans for after the show, which were to meet up with Dallas and hang out at whatever particular place he had chosen for this evening. 

She knew musicals weren’t really his scene, but she still felt a little disappointment over the fact that he hadn’t even seen one of her shows despite her babbling on and on over how much she enjoyed playing Adelaide and how amazing this cast was. 

Once her hair and makeup were complete, she put on her first outfit for the show, which was her street outfit, a simple skirt with a shell blouse and scarf topped by a bright red jacket. It was definitely cute, similar to her own style outside of performing. 

Soon enough, it was time for places, and as soon as y/n made her way onto the stage for the last time this month, she was met with a shocking sight that almost made her stumble and forget all her lines. 

Dallas was there at her show. Not in the front row, of course, but she didn’t think those had great views anyway. But he was actually there. He had bought the tickets (she hoped) to come and see her perform. Though to many this wouldn’t seem like a major deal, it was to her. With Dallas, it was the small actions that really displayed his love for her, the things that absolutely no one else in the world could convince him to do. 

She couldn’t help but sneak small glances at him throughout the show, wanting the image of him watching her on the stage ingrained in her mind. He sat there in his usual manner, slightly slouched in his seat and his signature smirk on his face, not wanting to let on too much, fearing it would ruin his ‘rep’ or whatever. Though tonight, he looked really good. He hadn’t done much to his appearance, but his hair was pushed back a little, and he was wearing a black shirt with black trousers, and y/n would be lying if she said she didn’t want to jump off the stage and throw herself straight at him. 

Shaking away those thoughts, she refocused on giving her best delivery for the closing night, wanting everything to be perfect, especially now that Dallas was really here. 

His eyes were glued on her the whole time, ignoring anything and anyone else but her pretty figure in the pretty outfits she wore and how gorgeous her voice sounded as she sang. Though he did visibly tense in his seat every time Nathan’s actor got within an inch of her, not caring that it was his role, he wanted him far away from his girl; he wanted her to be with him, kissing him and touching him. 

The show soon ended, and Dallas waited by the back door of the theater, keeping at least 5 metres of distance between him and the crowd eagerly waiting for whoever they had come to see perform. 

He stared down at the slightly disheveled roses he had picked himself, debating if he should chuck them away as they looked slightly pathetic in his grip. Before he could decide, y/n came bouncing over to him, clearly still full of energy even after two hours on stage.

Her hair had been let down into loose curls, and she had cleaned off her garish stage makeup, and Dallas had to admit she looked sweet like this, all natural and fresh. Her stage look had been completely different from her usual look, but it had done something to him, revealed a different side of her he didn't know he would be attracted to, but oh, was he.

“What are you doing here?!”

She practically flung herself at him, clinging to his neck and breathing in his scent of cologne and menthol cigarettes.

“Thought I’d come and see what you’d been rambling on about for weeks.” He teased her, lightly squeezing her hip.

She rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, well, I almost fainted from shock when I saw you.

“Really? The mere sight of me almost knocked you out, huh? I'm just that attractive.”

“In your dreams Winston. I was just happy to see you.”

“Mhm, sure doll.”

“Seriously. I had practically given up trying to convince you.”

“Well, if I had known you would have looked that hot—”

She pinched him in response.

“Hey! This was months of hard work and training.”

“I’m just messin’ with ya. You were incredible; I couldn’t keep my eyes away, and I can’t believe you’ve never sung like that for me before.”

“I never thought you’d be into that.”

“I’m into anything you do.”

He murmured with a small, genuine smile before holding out the roses to her.

“These are for you.”

Her eyes lit up at his gesture, picturing him choosing the nicest-looking flowers from the bush and tying them up together in the ribbon they were wrapped with.

“Thanks, they’re beautiful.”

“A little wonky lookin, but I wanted to bring you something.”

“I love them. I'm gonna keep them forever.”

Dallas leaned in and pulled her in against him, kissing her passionately, his love and desire pouring into the kiss. He cradled the back of her head and tugged her closer, both of their breaths increasing in pace and intensity. 

She could feel his hands wander down her sides, caressing her body over her clothes, desperate to feel more of her, but she reluctantly pulled away, out of breath and cheeks tinged pink.

“We should probably get out of here.” 

He glanced around, noticing that there were still people around, and nodded, wrapping an arm around her waist. 

“Yeah, c’mon. I’ll take you home.”

♱ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ ♱ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ ♱ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ ♱ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ ♱ . ݁₊ ⊹ .

౨ৎ1k words౨ৎ

[winniefrezcomics]

THE FAIRY DALE POST

(Credit to @zennyzach / @perisprinkles for this certified banger)

Hi what’s up hello, decided to do this separately from the previous question so it would be easier for those who want to avoid it to do so dndbdhdhdjdjbh

to all the Dale fans out there, I’m sorry to admit that I am not among you- as much as I appriciate what an accurate depiction of an emotionally abusive parent he is, I am NOT manifesting a redemption arc for his ugly ass, and hope that Dev gets to stand up to him in a BIG way in the shows future 🥰

Anyway: Is Dale Still a shoddy father in the Fairly normal Parents AU?-

YES. He’s WORSE, actually!! ☠️

Trust me when I say the read-more is necessary here- PLEASE read the content warnings before deciding to proceed- covering fairy Dale and Fairy Devs relationship requires me breaking away from the wholesomeness of the rest of the AU to cover some darker topics-

CONTENT WARNINGS: dalepreg, mild NSFW text, unwanted pregnancy, references to pregnancy termination, emotional abuse, parental neglect, manipulation, unhealthy parental relationships, Dale Dimmadome in general

Okay, with that out of the way-

One important thing to note about my swap au is that, in the time period the ask blog takes place, ALL the faires are adults! Which I point out only to explain why, at this point in the story, Dev has ALREADY had his gigantic falling out with his father (that’s, tbh, pretty similar to the one I like to think HUMAN Dev eventually has in my personal hc timeline for him) SO YEAH, Dev and his father are currently NOT on speaking terms, and he really dislikes talking about him (Perry has never so much as learned Dale’s NAME. He’s that secretive about it after storming out and getting cut off, but I’m getting ahead of myself snsbdbdbd)

SO, TO START AT THE BEGINNING- Something I have yet to discuss in the ask blog bc we aren’t far enough in the plot yet for Dev to openly speak about magic (yes, plot ☠️) is the fact that Poof’s role as the “first fairy baby in a thousand years” actually belongs to FOUR faries in the swap AU- Dev, Hazel, Winn and Jasmyn!

(Aaand maybe some other kids from ANW too, it’s not carved in stone yet how many characters this includes 🤷)

The reason that so many fariy babies were born at ONCE- (inciting PURE CHAOS in fairyworld, I’m sure) is due to an anti-magical comet passing over fairyworld (which I have not yet worked out the name and specifics of, yall will have to give me til Hazel arrives to get THERE sbdbxjshdjdjjdd 😂)

BASICALLY the anti-comet, unbeknownst to anyone, weakened and warped the magic spell in place that prevented fairy babies from being possible-

-go ahead and assume this middle part for yourself lmao-

Once the pregnancies start making themselves know. FOR THE MOST PART fairy couples are ECSTATIC to learn that they’re expecting- and because the comet violated nothing in Da Rules, they were ALL allowed to keep thier miracle babies (don’t ask abt Antony wheeze, I’m still thinking abt it tbh 😂)

So all of fairyworld is abuzz with excitement about all the expecting miracle parents… with the exception of one. Dale ‘Day-breaker’ Dimmadome, owner of the corporation that runs most of fairyworld, and the LAST FAIRY ALIVE that should have been entrusted with caring for a child, has also found himself expecting (don’t ask me how it happened lmfao, let’s just say “partied too hard in fairly Las Vegas” and leave it at that ☠️☠️☠️)

Needless to say, Dale was NOT on board with the idea of being pregnant, giving birth, OR raising a baby, so he has the AU pairs research every possible solution to the ‘problem’ right away, and keeps his pregnancy a secret for as long as possible.

However, all of that changed when the future visions started. They were mild, at first- just strangely frequent moments of Deja vu in Dales day to day life running his company, and strangely accurate dreams every now and then. BUUT as Dev continued to develop and grow, the visions got clearer and clearer, until Dale finally got fed up and went to see a fairy fortune teller, who informed him that his unborn baby must be the source of the prophetic dreams, and they would only get more powerful with time. Even in his fetal state, other clairvoyants Dale went to see could tell- DEV was going to be a VERY powerful one.

Okay so here’s where the “eugh” REALLY starts for me- (if it hasn’t started for u already screams)

Once Dale realized how USEFUL the future visions were, he decided to halt his research, and carry the baby to term, so that he could continue to have the visions, as he considered them an advantage while expanding his corporation.

Much to Dales dismay however, the SECOND the baby is BORN, Dale loses the clairvoyance ENTIRELY, buuuut now that Dale knows he has something to GAIN from doing so, he decides he DOES want to raise this child, so that it can be of use to him in the future (tho by “raise” I of course mean “make the AU pairs raise ☠️☠️)

I don’t have a drawing of them yet, but fun fact, fairy Dev was raised by two au pairs (the AU’s pixie equivalent) that are based on his drones from ANW- their ‘names’ are technically just strings of numbers, but Dev nicknamed his two servants/gaurdians/weird robotic gay dads “silver” and “Gold” 🥈🥇

I’ll infodump on them too if anyone asks abt em, but this is the Dale post wheeze, back to the horrors-

Dev grows up barley knowing his father, but slowly gets more and more demanding of his fathers attention with time, desperately wanting to form a relationship with him. Eventually, Dale relents, allowing Dev to spend much of his time by his father’s side, almost like a teeny tiny advisor or smthn? Baby Dev couldn’t be happier, but Unfortunately, it’s Dale, so ofc he had ulterior motives. basically as SOON as Dev was able to talk, Dale began to constantly ask if he had had any new visions, even getting dev private magic/ fortune telling/ clairvoyance lessons, to try and hone his child’s skills as much as possible as quickly as possible.

At first Dev thinks nothing of how hyper-focused Dale is on his future-seeing powers, and is just happy to be included and close to his dad for once. He’s more than happy to have visions for him, recounting them with excitement, and delighting in the praise whenever his insight was considered “legitimately helpful”

However, as time went on, and Dev gained the context of meeting the OTHER fairy kids and thier families, he couldn’t help but slowly start to question his fathers “parenting methods” - if you could even call them that ☠️☠️

(Hazel Wishingwell heard a rumor about a secret fairy child being spotted on a balcony of the Dimmadome building, so she, Winn and Jasmyn went to investigate! WIP of a comic I’ll finish eventually. maybe. probably.

poor dev lived a very Elsa-esque, isolated life before he made three gremlin friends who started routinely “kidnapping” him from his damn repunzel tower to have fun and hang out 🥺💕)

This ever-growing sense of unease continues to eat at kid Divination, and part of him starts to wonder if his dad really DOES only care about his powers like his friends say he does…

they are all. horrified. To learn how little attention and affection Devs father gives him. ESPECIALLY because the three of them have incredibly loving parents that have been calling them “miracles” and “gifts” thier whole lives, while Dale has basically done nothing but COMPLAIN to dev about how HARD it was to carry him for all those months, especially when he wants Dev to stop questioning him. ☠️

So one day, as an experiment, Dev LIES about his future vision. Since Dev realized there was no way for anyone else to witness and vouch for the accuracy of his vision-retelling, he decides to advise his father AGAINST the deal he was prodding Dev to see a prediction for, despite his vision clearly telling him that the partnership would be extremely profitable. Dev does this for a few reasons, but it’s a decision owed in no small part to the fact that, the more successful partnerships his dad is involved with at any given time, the less time he has to spend with his son (not that his “spending time with” involves much outside of Dev telling his dad his visions and Dale ignoring any non-biussness conversation his literal child tries to start with him 🙃)

This works for a while, with dev estatic to be getting to spend more time with his dad, even IF his mood is consistently terrible from having to back out of so many potential partnerships that he thought for SURE would work and be profitable, but it didn’t occur to him that his son may be LYING until one day, a partnership HE turned down BLOWS UP after pairing with a DIFFERENT company. When confronted, Dev immediately breaks down and comes clean, trying to defend himself by claiming he “just wanted to spend more time with him”.

Dale is BEYOND un-moved by the sentiment, and swiftly bans dev from his office and advisor council, seeing very little of him for most of devs teen years (tho of course they pass by and interact now and then, Dale goes out of his way to steer clear of Dev is his “emotionally volatile state” or whatever)

Once Dev is a young adult however, Dale makes him an offer for how Dev can once again be useful to thier family business: since dev has been continuing to hone his magical abilities even in his fathers absence, by 17/18 he’s quite the skilled clairvoyant, so Dale offers to instate him as an offical employee of the Dimmadome corporation, and have him offer fortune telling services for a Hefty price.

Dev agrees, and it’s fine at first, but dev quickly realizes he HATES his job, and in addition, seeing into the future MULTIPLE TIMES A DAY was really starting to take a toll on both devs mental AND physical health (he started to struggle with migraines -hence the glasses- and near-constant dissociation episodes, to the point where dev often found himself disoriented and unsure if what he was seeing was real or a vision, if that makes sense?)

Dev eventually has enough, and works up the nerve to, at first politely, tell his father that he needs to quit his job. It takes dale and dev quite a bit of back and forth before Dale realizes the EXTENT to which dev is intending to quit (cold turkey) emotions rise steadily, until the attempted professional resignation has dissolved into a SHOUTING MATCH between a father and son

After dev SCREAMS every single thing he’s been holding back for YEARS into his fathers face, he storms off, and hasn’t been back since. Dev also indirectly trashed his office, because Devs magic reacts on its own when extreme emotions are at play (he gets the flaming hair thing from his dad tho dbdbdbendnd)

Current day dev actually isn’t SURE where he and his father stand, but he assumed it wasn’t good after all his credit cards stopped working, forcing him to take a job as a godparent to earn a living himself (Hazel was MORE than happy to drag him to godparenting school tho lmaoo)

SO YEAH THATS PRETTY MUCH IT

I miiiight make it canon that Dev and his dad reconcile and reconnect after Dev saves fairywolrd, but that’s getting into spoiler territory wheeze

TYSM for the question! Apologizes if this made anyone uncomfortable to read, but thanks for getting all the way down to the bottom of this ungoldly long ramble too lmaooo 🥺❤️

[kero-cure]

Oh hell no...

IT DIDN'T END IN ONE EPISODE!!! GWADDAMMITTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

WARNING: This post (yapping) have maximum level of copium and I turned into super shitty pathetic loser fangirl mode to write this. (Yep, I became the shitty fangirl for real this time) My brain isn't in the normal status so don't mind me.

Even though while I'm sooooooo sure that Ishiro will never ever gonna betray Taiya and Boonboomger for real. We saw so many of him since the very first time. We have YEO, We have EP 37. Super Sentai his the series of uniting. (At least until Gozyuger lol) He have his reason to do that for sure. so in the end it's gonna be okay. But seeing him like that make me depressed.

But one thing that relief me a little (very little) is...

I don't want you to become enemy of the world...

Not "you guys" but "YOU" specific to one person that is Taiya. And moreover, Is his voice trembled a little when he said that??

Ishiro is a spy that do the underworld jobs for his entire life. So he was living in the darkness and had seen so many dark side of the world. Then one day he met Taiya who he felt that is a light, Shine brightly in the hopeful world, Have lots of dream and doing so many positive things. When he investigated on the enemy side he might knew something so terrible. So he doesn't wanna see that light fade away and fall into the darkness. He love and trust Taiya more than anything else. He'd rather fall into the darkness alone than seeing the enemy shut that light down. We already seen before that he's the one who sacrifice himself easily (like EP 14 or how he usually become human shield for Taiya) so I think this time is the same. He set his determination, To protect something more important.

And he love Boonboomger a lot even though he didn't say out loud. If he really gonna betray everyone. He can do more harsh way like say it out loud that "I'm gonna follow them instead", Actually shoot his friend directly, Or destroy his BoonboomChanger. But he didn't.

"If you will keep going to this way, I'll become enemy of you guys instead."

.

Or more positive "Okay. If you said so I'll do my part. You do your part. And we'll meet again after that."

Because as you might realized, Taiya didn't seem angry or feel betrayed, Instead he still look confident when he answered Ishiro. I think (or more likely, believe) that he might able to read something from that eyes like usual. They came so far and we have YEO and EP 37 to keep us sane. I believe in their eyes-to-eyes communication.

.

Oh! Maybe it was their way to ask and give a permission to investigate deeper or attack from inside the enemy's side. Other member didn't realized that because they couldn't read that gaze so they're angry. But these two knew so well.... They're already shared lots of secret that only they know. So why not this time?

You might ask why Ishiro had to do that way even though he knew that his reputation will be ruin (for a while)?

Because this woman kept an eyes on them!! YEAH!! It was acting to gain more trust from enemy!! And he used this chance to asked for permission with the eyes!! As you guys might heard somewhere before that if you wanna trick an enemies you have to trick your allies first. But Taiya is the only one he couldn't trick because their eyes-to-eyes communication are too strong so they shared this plan together instead. BELIEVE ME!! BELIEVE MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

But yeah... It surely make him feel sad. His partner have to do his mission in more dangerous area and decided to do that way. We didn't saw his face because he had a helmet on but we can feel from how he look at changer and empty seat. When you lost something that you're so sure that will never go far away, You'll realize that how important they are.

And how Ishiro looking on his wrist that used to have his changer on that is kinda sad too. We saw in transformation lessson promo video and EP 6 of YEO that he absolutely love BoonboomChanger. And he have to take it off to gain a trust from enemy. This is his resolved. He's ready to face more of the darkness to end this fight. Even though that's mean he have to leave them.

Don't forget that the monster of this week have an ability of "stealing important thing" So that's mean, For Ishiro, his changer and Boonboomger is important thing. And for Taiya is Ishiro (I'm so sure lol)

.

And...

The guy that you wanna rely on is him, right?

I know that Gokaiger is another Sentai that have "absolute trust on each other" Red & Blue dynamics that make lots of fangirls go crazy over them. As senpai that have this dynamics, He might realized that dynamics from them too and came to say something to reassure.

.

Wait... Is that "I wanna rely on you even though we became the enemy of the world VS I wanna keep you safe and don't wanna see you become enemy of the world so I have to leave you" dynamics!? HOLY SHIT THIS IS DELICIOUS!!!

But before we reach the happy end.... I need more copium. I have to write some precious moments that I know from nation comrade who went to G-Rosso.

PS. Lots of nation comrades from around the world said that BoonboomChanger is like a wedding ring for Ishiro. And now Taiya have it. When they reunion I wanna see Taiya give it to Ishiro by his hand, Not just like "Here you are. Take it" like in EP 37. And since changer is usually put on the left hand that's mean... HE WILL TAKE ISHIRO'S HAND AND PUT THE WEDDING RING BACKKKK!!!!!! YES PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[thesleepyfable]

~ SWTD: Still Here AU Season 2 Part 4: ~

Farther and Son:

So, I'm back at work full-time now that Christmas is over, and I'm not sure how often chapters will be posted. Hopefully, once a week.

Tw: Coma.

'What did the doctors say?'

'They put Tommy through the Scale Assessment,' Jennifer explained with tears running down her face and smearing her makeup. 'Fifteen is mild. Three, you're practically brain-dead.' She paused. Her shoulders twitched. Jennifer whimpered. Addair wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and without a second thought, she nestled into him and began to weep. 'He only scored a seven.'

Addair's body went cold. His heart stopped. His eyes widened, and he, too, began to cry. He was going to lose his eldest son, who had just finished his GCSEs and wanted to join the Army, was now fixed to a hospital bed and being fed through a tube. The man looked at his hand, where skin was peeling from his palm and fingers from a lifetime of manual labour. They were unsightly to look at, even before his infection, but they carried so many memories.

Tommy's birth came to mind. He remembered the day he was born. When he was able to hold him in his hands. Only six pounds with a small tuft on blonde hair. Addair, who was already balding, joked about how they had matching hairstyles.

The happiest day of his life. Today, a nightmare.

'What is that, Sarge?'

'I don't know.'

'What should we do?'

'I don't know.'

Possibly the only pair of police officers in the village, followed Addair from the safety of their car. Addair didn't acknowledge them and just kept moving forward. He only had one destination, and nothing was going to stop him.

Braemar looked like a ghost town. Addair's arrival caused everyone to hide in their homes and lock the doors. But, they were curious, especially the children. Nothing happened in a place that had a population of less than a thousand people. Eyes watched Addair from the windows with a mix of awe and fear. They had no idea what he was. But they had realised he wasn't giving anyone a moments notice. He didn't try and climb over the buildings to make a quick exit or sink his tendrils into pavement, but instead, he moved lightly, which made him slow. To the locals, he looked like a monster, but he didn't act like one.

Thankfully, Addair was moving so slowly that Caz and Roy easily caught up in the car. Roy pulled up, allowing Caz to jump out and dash down the icy pavement. Why didn't the council put grit out?

Caz didn't need to sense Addair. He could see the English cunt turning down to the right. He was just following the main road out of town. Not even thinking about the police, Caz ran past them. His foot lost its grip, and he collided with a lamp-post but quickly found his balance and pushed himself up.

'Addair?!' He stopped, turned, and stared down at Caz. 'Addair, what the fuck are you doing?' He didn't answer. Caz felt his anger rising. 'Don't just stare at me. Answer my fuckin' question. You think you can just wander off and go wherever the fuck you want-'

'I'm going to see my son!'

'You just saw your sons!'

'Tommy,' Addair snapped. 'I'm going to see Tommy!'

Caz's face fell. The 'dream' came creeping back into his mind. He replayed it in his head, and the pieces fell into place. It wasn't a dream. It wasn't a memory. That was Addair's thoughts. How he thought that day played out. Caz, somehow, in his sleep, saw into his mind.

'He could die, and you want me to hide away in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere?!' Now knowing his name and that he can talk, the locals listened. They were curious. 'I don't care what I look like, and I don't care what they think. My face could be on the front of every newspaper, but nothing is stopping me from seeing him.'

Caz didn't reply. He was shocked. As much as he didn't like Addair, his feelings were justified because if he was in his position, Caz would do the same. He'd end the world for his girls. If being infected meant Cait and Maidie would be safe, he'd jump head first into the mass. He was one of the crew members who didn't know about Tommy.

'So,' the younger police officer stepped out of the car, along with the Sarge. They didn't get close. 'There's more of you lot?'

'No.'

'But he has a son?'

'He's human.'

'He is?'

'Yes.'

'What the fuck happened?'

'Long story. Look,' Caz sighed. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. 'I'll take care of this, and we'll get out of your way, aye?'

'Aye,' the Sarge was quick to reply. He was an older man who clearly didn't want any change in his village. 'Just go before some eejit newspaper gets here.'

Addair turned to leave. Caz quickly grabbed what he could of his arm.

'No.'

'Didn't you just-'

'If you want to go to London, then you're not walking there, and you're not going by yourself.' There was a pause as Addair's face softened, then he slowly formed a smile. He really wasn't going to get away from Caz or anyone from Beria. This really was his new reality.

'Prick,' he chuckled.

Roy's finger tapped the steering wheel with a cigarette tightly pursed between his lips, waiting for something to go wrong. He audibly sighed when Caz got back into the car with Addair following, but he kept his guard up when he saw the police. He wasn't insured to drive, and as much as he loved Caz, he wasn't going to join him in jail.

'Alright?'

'Yeah,' Caz groaned. 'I think we're-'

The car rattled. Addair wrapped a tendril around the vehicle and hoisted it in the air, and began walking back for the farm.

'Addair, you fuckin' cunt, we can drive!' He didn't answer and just kept walking. 'I know you can hear me, Addair. Addair - Oh, Jesus Christ...!'

[dozing-marshmallow]

HENRY HOTLINE X OPTIMISTIC! READER ONE SHOT

“Oh hello Henry!” you waved,“I’m doing some origami, would you like to join me?”

“No.” yet he still watched over your hands,“What is this anyway?”

“Oh! It’s the art of paper folding that originated in Japan and there are so many shapes you can do!” you explained, putting down the one you were working on to proudly hold up a few that you’ve done recently,“This one is a star, and I made this duck and these rabbits a couple of days ago.” you showcased, now going back to work on the current one, though on the next step, it came out irreversibly wrong.

“Ah, looks like I messed up a step there. I guess I’ll have to restart.” you admitted, scrunching up the paper and discarding it in the bin.

“Too bad you won’t have that option next season.” Henry was very encouraging.

“I know, that’s why I’m going to try make all the mistakes I can.” you agreed, grabbing a new piece of A4 paper,“Though every time I do these things, I always think this is the one.“

“So you purposely set yourself up for such high standards? It must be so devastating when things take a turn away from them.” he assumed pessimistically.

“Not at all. Life goes on and so do I.” you folded diagonal triangles on each side of the paper and unfolded so the dents were perpendicular.

“Not for long.”

“And that’s what makes it more important!” you chirped, folding smaller triangles,“I really thought being in here would crush my spirits. I’m not happy about having grown used to seeing dead people on display, but I guess that’s all part of the motivation. The inflated possibility of death facing me everyday, it...it forces you to acknowledge the delicacy of life. You think you’ll be here long, but no, anything can happen.” more triangles in the centre,“We take for granted even being able to feel.”

In his disagreement, Henry prompted you,“And what if the feeling was agonising?”

You repeated the steps on the other side of the paper, not taking your eyes off,”Every day is a day worth making to. If we really had everything we wanted by the snap of our fingers, would the point of living really exist?”

“You sound like a cartoon.” Henry sneered, grabbing one of the rabbit origami you made and squeezed it in his fist,“And I hate cartoons.”

You saw what he did, but weren’t offended. You could always make another,“That’s okay too. We can’t please everyone, can we?”

Henry stuttered at your response,“How do you find it in you to still be so untroubled?”

You thought for a moment. The minds of human beings were inclined to stay in the bad, mysteriously needing more good to cancel out one bad,“I might have trained myself to. No matter my failures, rejection, I...just think oh well. That’s that. It’s not in my control to worry about. My responsibility is to focus and move on, do better next time. Even if things don’t improve immediately, the fact I take action, is still progress. If I give up now, I’ll truly guarantee nothing.”

“The only thing you’ve guaranteed is death.” sneering, the ruined work in his hand now descended back to the table.

A chuckle falls under your breath,“It may seem that way. Focusing and mourning about mistakes, failures of the past, won’t do anything for me. Yeah, a lot of the past influences my present, but it doesn’t mean it’ll influence my future.” you hummed thoughtfully up to him,“There’s this saying that goes, the temptation to give up is usually right before success.”

“Then I’m assuming you either never had the strong temptation...” he began, now looking into your eyes,“Or you’re simply in the rare unusual.”

“Who’s to say? How much do your dreams mean to you if you gave up at a few setbacks?” you asked, smiling at your progress, adjusting the shape,“Woohoo! That’s the second box done!”

Henry paused,“I forgot we were discussing this filth.”

You frowned,“You’re free to go, you know.” 

“I am, but it’s been so long since I could talk to a contestant, let alone a winner, and  they like doing this.” he pointed a sharp finger at the table like it really was unbelievable.

You grabbed the other paper box,“And so what? I could believe the sky is purple and the moon really is made of cheese, does it do anything to you? Does it hurt you or anyone else?”

His wired neck yanked his head back,“It hurts to watch.”

You put the ends of the long rectangular paper through the gaps on top of both of the boxes,“Then that just means you haven’t learnt to appreciate having fun for yourself. When you do, you would find that comments like that don’t mean much.” you replied, rotating the origami from all angles before throwing a fist of victory in the air,“There! I finally finished. You can have this one, Henry.”

He caught it when you tossed it and he examined it.

“From what I’ve heard, origami is typically given as a gift of healing and hope since a plain piece of paper can transform into something beautiful.” you grabbed a new piece of paper, planning on recreating the rabbit one,”At this rate, I’m not sure if I’ll see the day where I reach that, but I’m happy I got to do something.” you grabbed a new piece of paper, planning on recreating the rabbit one,“You can destroy that one if you want,” yet he shoved it in his interior pocket.

[razberrypuck]

oough thinking about. gillion's first curse nightmare.

imagine waking up in the childhood home you didn't think you still remembered, but it feels different. imagine you're groggy and disoriented and you just dreamt about the best adventure of your life, but when you sit up and rub your eyes it fizzles away into the back of your mind, like all your dreams do. imagine looking around and seeing what is undeniably your room-- but it's smaller than you remember, and your bed is creaky and old, and there isn't a weapon in sight, and the view from your window is that of your father's backyard garden, and you actually own things, and that dream must've really messed with your head if all that is making you so emotional.

imagine you hear your mom's voice. imagine, for the first time in what feels like seventeen years, you hear your mom's voice, calling your name. you nearly trip over yourself when you go to get up, when you stumble out of your bedroom door. and your mind is reeling and you can't quite figure out why, but you can't bring yourself to focus on anything for a moment-- until you lock eyes with your reflection, in the mirror at the end of the hall. and for the briefest of moments, you don't recognize yourself, slim and bright-eyed and without a scar on your body. your hair is long. your coral looks healthier. you feel a bit emptier when no little pink frogtopus swims up to your side. that dream must've really messed with your head.

imagine you finally get yourself down the stairs, and you freeze up. and your parents are setting up the dining table, and gods you didn't know you even remembered what they looked like. your dad is finishing up the food, and he smiles when he notices you at the base of the stairs. your mom says something about making your favorite for dinner, and you don't know why all of this is making you so emotional but you're fighting off tears as best you can (forgetting you're underwater, forgetting they would be unseen). she asks you to grab your sister, and you run back up the stairs, and you're more excited than you think you've ever been, and then...well. you know what happens next.

imagine reliving that over and over and over. imagine no matter what you do, the ending is always the same. sometimes preceeded by the smashing of furniture, or claims that edyn had gone to bed early. sometimes accompanied by the unfamiliar wails of the parents you never had, mourning their daughter. and the one thing your mind can latch onto is the one thing you actively recognize as something that IS yours-- eggs. your favorite.

fucking. gillion tidestrider man.

[random-thot-generator]

Ghost decides after one blind date that you're going to be his.

>>>>>

Simon isn't used to dating. A quick hook up in the loo, sure. A drunken one night stand? He's had too many of those to count. But proper courting? Hell, it's been years, maybe a decade, since he's taken a bird out on an actual date.

It's probably going to be a disaster, but he gave Johnny his word he'd go out with his bird's best friend, so he can't back out now. He'll just have to grit his teeth and power through it.

His sour outlook for the evening is forgotten the second he sees you walk in with Johnny's bird. You're no tipsy tart on the pull, like the birds he's used to dealing with. You're a proper lady, dolled up nice for your date with him. It makes his chest feel tight when he gets a good look at your pretty face and nervous little smile.

His usual gruff manner is obviously not going to fly with you, so he quickly tries to recall the mannerisms he's seen his captain use around women. He gets to his feet with Johnny when the two of you reach the table, trying his best to look less intimidating.

Johnny introduces the two of you, and Simon melts inside when he takes your soft little hand in his for the first time. His brain goes fuzzy, dark eyes glazing over, and he's not sure what he says when he greets you, but it earns him a smile.

"It's really nice to meet you, Simon," are the first words you say to him.

Your voice is soft and sweet, and the way you say his name? Oh, he's gonna need to hear more of that, and often.

For the first time in a long time, Simon's worried about what someone thinks of him. He's worried he'll put you off with his harsh manner. So, he minds his words and gentles his tone. He slows his steps to match your pace and tucks your small hand at his elbow to keep you close and safe. He's holding doors and pulling out your chair. He compliments your dress and hair.

And when your heel catches on the sidewalk and you stumble, he doesn't bark a laugh or say something mean, wouldn't bloody dream of it. No, he catches you before you fall, and all that softness in his hands makes something shift in his brain. You're such a fragile little thing, delicate as spun sugar. You need a big nasty mutt like him to protect you, take care of you, and he's more than willing to do the job.

When the date is over, Simon sees you home, and you kiss him on your front stoop. It's not all groping hands and tangling tongues. It's a gentle press of lips, his big hands cradling your face, the sweet intimacy making his eyes flutter shut. He's floating when he finally gets back in his truck and drives himself home.

Instead of going to bed, Simon begins to formulate a plan of strategy. He figures it'll take a few more dates before you invite him into your flat, and several more after that before you invite him into your bed, then eventually into your life. It might take months, even a year or more. That's alright, though. If his years in the military have taught him anything, it's patience.

Simon knows how to play the long game. He'll go at your pace, let you get used to having him around, then make himself indispensable to you. No one will treat you as good, meet your every need and desire the way he will. He won't stop until he is your world, your reason for being. Your everything.

And when enough time has passed, he'll claim you completely as his. He's going to put a ring on your finger and a baby in your belly, then tuck you away safe and sound in one of those cute country cottages he looked up online. You'll be his little missus, and he'll be your tamed beast, keeping his teeth and claws hidden but at the ready.

By the time he arrives at your flat the next evening for your second date, he's already got your engagement ring in his safe at home and the names of your future children picked out.

And when you text him the day after to invite him for dinner, the new name he replaced yours with pops up on his screen.

It says 'Missus Riley', of course.

-

[britneyshakespeare]

I wonder if Shakespeare had a dog

[skipppppy]

Only Gravity Falls fans with media literacy interact with this post pls ok ok ok so do you think some of Ford’s resentment towards Stanley was in part because he felt like he had to “protect” him from Filbrick as the golden child? Like can you imagine if everytime you got mad at your brother, no matter how justified, your dad would verbally abuse him at best and kick him out of the house at worst? How much that fear would weigh on a kid? He loves Stanley, of course he does, and OBVIOUSLY Stanley isn’t the one at fault, he’s a victim, but what is a little boy supposed to do when he’s stuck being “the good twin” and any strike against his brother, no matter how small, could result in him getting hurt? How much anger did he bottle up? How many times did he force himself to turn the other cheek just to keep him safe? How horrible that night must have been, when everything he’d spent his entire life trying to prevent ended up happening anyway? How his dreams were crushed, a promising future was snatched from him, and the one time he actually lets himself get angry about it his brother is permanently disowned? Imagine how he must have felt looking down from that window. How angry at himself he must have been. How ashamed. Man I’d close the curtains too. Torn in half between feeling responsible for the suffering of someone you care so much about and feeling rage at them for being the reason you had to stifle yourself for so long. He probably let himself believe Filbrick’s words just to bring himself comfort. Anyway I love nuance I love analysis I love when characters are flawed in ways that aren’t excused but are still tragic and understandable I love critical thinking

[sttoru]

#𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔: “show me you’re shameless, write it on my neck, why don’t ya?”

cw. married!gojo satoru x female reader. smut, angst to comfort. cheating/infidelity. unprotected. crēampie. bréeding themes. soft angsty-ish sèx. petnames ‘baby, sweetheart, wifey’ not proofread !

satoru has never loved the woman he married. he’s never felt an ounce of attraction or affection towards her. it’s hard to be around someone who he’s supposed to love and cherish, when all he can think about is you.

it’s you he was supposed to end up with if it wasn’t for his damned clan. setting up an arranged marriage behind his back and only telling him last minute of their plans— a bunch of assholes they are.

satoru could’ve declined, disagreed, ran away. he had all the power to, but he had fully convinced himself that his actual soulmate - you - would never return his love, which is why he settled.

. . . he was proven wrong after it was already too late.

“i love you s’much,” satoru grits his teeth as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his sweat trickling down his forehead. his hips move in a gentle rhythm, as tender as his arms are holding you. he never treated you roughly.

satoru wouldn’t do that to the love of his life. the one who he’s supposed to call his wife, his beloved. he’ll find a way to achieve his dreams. he’ll do anything to end up with you and escape this messed up arrangement.

but for now, he’ll love you like this. every day, behind the other woman’s back, for as long as he can.

“i love you too, ‘toru,” you sigh, tilting your head to give the white-haired man access to your neck. his tongue wets your sensitive skin before sucking on it. he’s claiming you as his— like he usually does whenever he manages to get ahold of you.

“say that again,” satoru whimpers against your throat whilst leaving soft kisses all over. the sounds of your bodies meeting bounces off the walls, the lewd noise of flesh hitting flesh is a melody that you both enjoy behind closed doors.

“please,” satoru pleads. you’re surprised by the vulnerability in his tone. he holds onto you - ruts into you - like he’s never experienced this before. his cock twitches and throbs within you, desperate to reach that aching release.

you swallow the lump in your throat. you feel bad doing this right on the bed that satoru shares with his wife, but you also couldn’t care less. “i love you, satoru, i really do,” you moan near his ear.

the sorcerer shivers at your pretty voice uttering those three words to him. his big hands hold onto your waist, fingers digging into your skin, leaving small dents. his breath hitches, “oh, fuck. y’do, huh?”

satoru curses as he lifts his head from your neck. the view of you beneath him while you take his dick all the way inside your sopping cunt is addicting. it’s also way too slippery because of the mixture of cum on your lower body and the sheets.

“ah,” you look down at the place your bodies meet the second you feel his cock slip out of your pussy. you reach a hand down and guide his tip back to your folds without much thought.

it’s a sight that makes satoru nearly bust a nut right then and there. “missin’ me already?” he tilts his head, that boyish smile on his lips reappearing again. his soaked, white bangs cover his ethereal eyes a little, yet you can still notice the playfulness in them.

“yeah, i do,” you sigh, whining a little as his cock slowly fills you up all the way again, “i always miss you, ‘toru.” you never fail to feel so full whenever you’re intimate with him— he’s big and knows just how to use that to his advantage.

satoru pouts at your words. he knows what you’re indirectly referring to amidst all the physical pleasure. he tries to make as much time for you as he can, without raising suspicion. though sometimes he fails to see you for days. balancing his work schedule, along with his many other duties and his private life was a hassle.

it’s frustrating when satoru is leading a double life, for both you and him. there’s nothing more in this world that he wants than to have you beside him forever. as his wife, not his secret lover.

one day, soon— he promises silently to himself and to you with a kiss.

“i’m sorry,” he breathes out, his thrusts resuming. two of his rough fingers roll your nipple between them, his tongue following to circle the sensitive bud while he drives his dick in and out of you repeatedly. “but i’m all yours tonight, yeah? only yours.”

you nod mindlessly. you trust satoru, he’ll figure this all out. for now, you’ll enjoy every single second you’re able to spend with him.

“mhm,” you hum before your eyes focus on his neck. you know he’s told you not to leave any marks on him, but tonight, you’re feeling shameless. your hand on the back of his head pushes him down until your lips touch his neck.

satoru’s eyes widen at your unexpected action. he can’t deny you anything, even if this is a risky thing to do. he moans when you suck and bite on his skin. you’re leaving hickeys he will have to hide from his wife.

“naughty fuckin’ girl,” he tries to groan, though it comes out as a choked up whimper instead. he bites his lip and his eyes nearly roll back when your legs wrap around his waist, all whilst you’re leaving those dark marks on his neck.

you softly giggle at your own bold move. satoru however, seems to enjoy this more than he thought he would. he allows you access to his neck while he focuses on his set pace.

“y’ just want me to get caught, hm?” the white-haired man clicks his tongue, his balls slapping against your ass, your juices sticking to his skin which makes the sounds of his thrusts even louder. lewder. satoru huffs, “want that woman to know jus’ how well i fuck you, sweetheart?”

you feel your body heat up, the knot in your lower tummy tightening. his increased dirty talk only could mean one thing; he’s close. and so are you. the pleasure of having satoru inches deep in your cunt after not seeing him for two whole days, is driving you insane.

“yes, fuck— yes,” you hiccup, feeling absolutely no shame at this moment. you don’t care how loud you’re getting, if satoru’s neighbours were to hear him have sex with a woman that’s not his wife.

the man himself doesn’t even seem to mind it either. not when he’s this close. he pants before pressing soft kisses against your forehead. the lingering feeling of your lips against his neck remind him of the hickeys you’ve left.

satoru moans against your hot skin. his dick twitches, his balls tighten and his arms wrap around you to cradle you against his bare chest. he’s going to fill you with his hot cum like you deserve. you deserve every single drop and he wouldn’t give it to anyone else but you.

“shit, g’nna cum,” satoru warns after a small whine leaves his throat, “take it, baby. don’t waste a drop, wanna breed you full.” his thrusts turn a bit erratic, body pinning yours to the mattress so you have nowhere to run. all you can do is lay there and take it— take his cum while you reach your own climax.

white dots appear in his vision as satoru releases rope after rope of hot, sticky cum inside of you. his hips are pressed tightly against yours— leaving no chance for his seed to trickle out of you.

the satisfaction that fills satoru’s chest is like no other. a small grin tugs at the corners of his lips as he leans his body weight on top of you slightly, catching his breath. your trembling frame rests beneath him while you’re trying to regain composure as well.

“there y’ go, atta girl,” satoru coos and kisses your forehead. he treats you so well, even after sex. he treats you like you’re his true wife. which you should be.

he rubs your sides with his hands to calm you down. his own breath is still shake as he looks down at you with a grin. a wicked idea pops up in his head once he sees the thick trail of cum that’s left on your slit after he pulls out.

“y’know how i told ya that i’ll make y’ my wife one day?” satoru hums, eyes focused on both your face and cum-covered pussy. he has told you before that he will find a way to officially make you his.

and he finally just realised the perfect way to do it.

“mhm,” you nod with a dazed look in your eyes. you wrap your arms around satoru’s shoulders and hug him, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. you can practically feel the smirk on his lips as his breath ghosts over your ear.

his hand travels down to your tummy, fingers splayed over the soft flesh; “good, ‘cause y’re gonna need to play the part for me already. gonna fill you up ‘til you’re nice and swollen with my kids, wifey.”