#i just wish i was HOME w them both that i was home in the 1980s

[a-ikuoliver]

kinktober day 31: maki + stepcest

w/c: 2.9k warning/s: f!reader (wearing a dress, referred to as woman), stepcest/incest, characters are referred to as sisters/use of honorifics, masturbation (r!receiving), panty sniffing/stealing, degradation, oral (r!giving), semi-public sex, maki's kinda (read: very) mean lmao notes: this is part of @ficsforgaza kinktober event!! ffg kinktober masterlist — please enjoy and check out the creators who helped raise over $400 usd for gaza aid!! this is my first time writing maki and i think i've gone blind from horniness so i think i did well LMAO inspo/acknowledgements: co-written with my lover @cottoncalicoes

crossposted to ao3 • masterlist • wip updates & voting • kofi • askbox

“congratulations again to the happy couple!” swallowing thickly, you take the opportunity during the applause to clear your throat, “and i’m so excited to be an honorary zen’in.”

you hate your cognisance of the weight of the microphone in your hand, your sweaty palms sliding against the metal no matter how nervously you adjusted your grip on the cylinder. you feel like you’re going through withdrawal, your lips too tight in your smile, showing too many teeth, your fingers twitching at your side, sweat beading on your brow as you stood at the centre of the dance floor in front of your new family on the best day of their lives.

for them, it looks like it is; mai, mingling with everyone in her stunning bridesmaid’s gown, dark green hair framing her pretty face, glitter sparkling on her eyelids in the low light, the blushing bride glowing at the centre table, her white slip dress rubbing against her grooms leg as he inched their chairs closer, both of them beaming with lovesick smiles. and maki, in a matching dress with her twin, the gown ruching, plunging and bunching on every addictive curve of her body, like your mother had chosen the dresses just to torture you. you, in comparison, look miserable with your flushed cheeks, darting eyes, clammy fingers attempting to pull the clinging fabric away from your searing skin.

you can’t do it. you can’t. you can’t even last a day without it.

your lewd vice. an unintentional habit born the week you moved in with your new family. you’d all settled into a routine quickly; family dinner, tidying the home, showering and bathing, and then slinking back to your bedroom for some peace. any apprehension you may have felt about the change melted from you when you’d stepped into the bathroom on your fifth night, the walls still sticky with humidity from your step-sisters shower, the faucet dripping against the porcelain tile rhythmically. only after stripping down to your underwear did you notice it; your downfall served to you on a silver platter. maki’s underwear strewn carelessly across the floor.

the fabric was plain. black. a boy short cut, curved to complement the shape of her ass. everything you'd expect from your new step-sister.

shame bubbled in your stomach, a pit of trepidation building the more you stared at the garment. moving on autopilot, hot water spouted from the shower, noisily hitting the tile and glass opposite it, steam billowing to the ceiling, your fingers snatching the panties before you can think about the repercussions, your left hand slipping between your thighs to furiously fuck yourself, your garbled moans and pants muffled by your right hand, holding her panties over your nose and lips like a depraved version of a mask.

each and every single day since had been no different. you and maki crossing paths, her hair still damp, droplets trailing down the skin of her neck, and you, refusing to meet her eye, hurrying into the bathroom after her, needing to huff and suck and lick at her underwear while they still tasted like your oneesan.

wetting your dry lips, you pass the microphone along to the next, family members rushing to pass along their well wishes to the happy couple, you only hope your new family doesn’t notice the way your eyes glaze over, meeting maki’s across the room. your (now official) step-sister stares over the top of the round frames of her glasses, tawny eyes studying you like she’s watching the memory replaying in your mind, too, hearing the wanton call of her name.

with a polite smile to a cousin who’s name escapes you, you slip from the banquet room, ducking your head past ornate decor, white, gold and a muted emerald green to match the bridesmaid dresses, the train of your own billowing after you as you rush toward the end of the hallway, near sprinting by the time you reach the door.

swinging the door open, your chest heaves, lungs tightening each time you try to catch your breath, too preoccupied with hiking the length of your dress up to focus on your breathing, too impatient to even hold your underwear aside when you press your fingertips to your aching clit, only just managing to slam the stall door shut before you breathe out an airy sigh.

the bathroom door swings open, the hinges creaking, a noise that should send your heart to your throat. instead, you only feel a frustrated scream build in your oesophagus, willing your unwanted guest to take care of themselves quickly, to let you take care of your issue.

their steps echo ominously toward your stall, each click in time with your erratic pulse before stopping outside your door, their shoes eerily similar to the heels maki adorned for the event.

“you're pathetic.” the familiar, bored voice rings from the opposite side of the stall, icy blood rushing in your ears nearly deafening you, “what’s it been, hm? not even an entire day without stuffing yourself full?”

your cunt aches at her tone, disappointment laced through every syllable, disappointed in your weakness, about to lecture you on self-control.

when you don’t answer her, she knocks sharply against the door, demanding your attention with the jarring note, “come here. now.”

reluctantly, you obey, a painful jolt shooting through your spine to your neglected clit when you drag your hand away, clenching your fists between your thighs, trying not to release a petulant groan, willing yourself not to whine and cry to your step-sister about your addiction, your debauched habit, the wail catching in your throat before it can be free. easing the door open, you attempt to steel your features, letting your dress fall back into place, hiding the slick on your thighs when you meet maki’s wolfish gaze.

“look at you,” she sneers, tilting her head to take in your dishevelled appearance — your dress creased at your hips, the angry marks your nails left in your palms, your swollen, bitten lips, “can you even get off without your nose stuffed in my underwear?”

your stomach drops at her words, eyes darting around the confined space, trying to find something to look at other than her face. feeble excuses tumble past chapped lips, stuttering over every word that comes to mind, finally landing on a complete sentence, “i-i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

picking nervously at the bed of your nails, painted to match hers for the special day, you still avoid her sharp eyes, your gaze landing on her lips as she laughs at you.

“perverted and an actor,” crowding into the already cramped space, she’s sure to slide the lock into place behind her before she continues, “you really thought i wouldn’t notice your little habit?”

cowering under the heat of her stare, maki easily backs you against the wall, the tension thick enough even the dullest blade would slice through it; a heat blossoming anywhere she touches you, one hand at your shoulder, the other your waist, her hips pressing into yours to trap you beneath her patronising sneer.

“how long?” her slender fingers move to grasp your jaw, calloused fingertips squishing the fat of your cheeks, pressing them together until your lips parted dumbly, tilting your head to look into her shining eyes. the glass atop her nose flashes, a fierceness reflected back at you.

although, the longer you stare, the sooner you realise it’s her pupils swimming with the wickedness.

“what?”

“how long did you think you could get away with it?” pressing herself harder to you, she studies every minute reaction: the flutter of your eyelashes, the pucker of your lips, the whine in your throat, the wiggle of your hips, chasing the euphoria she was willing to give you with every adjustment of her hips.

“using me to get off like that,” leaning closer like she’s going to kiss you, she continues clicking her tongue at you, her voice dripping in vitriol, “stealing my underwear, getting yourself off to the smell of me like some pervert, and all i get is a selfish little sister and stained underwear.”

digging her fingertips into your side to halt your wiggling, you bite back a moan, a small part of you worried you’re going to stain her dress with your slick.

“christ, and you’re getting off on this, too?” looking down her nose at you, there’s a pang of humiliation blooming at the nape of your neck until she grins, as evil as the glint in her eye, “you fucking freak.”

“i’m not a freak.”

maki laughs, no, snicker at your weak voice, sounding more like a frightened child trying to stand up to its playground bully, 'sensei said you're not allowed to snatch,', dropping her hand from your waist, she slips it between your thighs, allowing you to wiggle and grind into her hand, your body still screaming to cum, here, like this, with your sister’s fingers inspecting the slick drooling from your pussy, the voice in your head screaming at you to leave growing quieter and quieter, silenced for good when she swipes her thumb over your clit.

“you have a different word for getting this wet for me?”

heat rushes to your face, stammering like a poor little victim again as she strokes your dripping slit painstakingly slowly, “you know what i think?”

you only whine in acknowledgement, reaching for her wrist in an attempt to get closer, to feel her weight pinning you, her heat, for more.

tightening her grip on your jaw, she sadistically draws her fingers away from you, “when your oneesan asks you a question, freak, you answer.”

“w-what do you think, maki?”

“show some respect,” she goads, “what do you moan when your fingers are stuffing your greedy cunt? say it.”

“what do you think… oneesan,” you sound pathetic moaning the honorific, the taste of it on your tongue enough to make your cunt pulse and gush, your empty hole clenching around nothing when maki rewards you with her thumb stroking circles on your clit.

a predatory smile graces her lips, still glossy with makeup, her feminine features twisting as she taunts you, “i think you owe me.”

it doesn’t take much for maki to get you to your knees, pushing at your limbs until you’re fumbling to kneel on the frigid tiled floor beneath her, your face level with her crotch. even maki’s hands tangling in your hair can’t stop you from pressing your face between her thighs, the dull pain of her tug at your scalp nothing compared to the ache in your stomach, a hearth burning and smouldering with each prod, pinch and spit from your step-sister. the scent of her like gasoline, your kindled hearth quickly growing into an uncontrollable flame.

she was right, you can’t get off without this anymore, without the taboo, the scent of her, the taste of her on the cotton.

your eyelids flutter, dazed when you dip your head beneath the hem of her dress, sucking in a deep breath with your face pressed to her cunt, already addicted to how much better it is like this – the heat of her muscular thighs around your head, the strength of her smell, the way you can trace the shape of her cunt while sucking her taste from the material, more and more of her cum starting to drool from her cunt the more you tried to lap it up, greedily drinking everything in.

hot blood rushes in your ears, into your cunt, pressing your face harder into her cunt, bruising your nose against her pubic bone while mouthing desperately at her pussy. as if remembering yourself, you bring your hands up to join your ravenous mouth beneath her dress, a whimper torn from your throat when she snatches you away from her soaked underwear.

“still so greedy, aren’t you?” maki’s eyes match yours, a debauched need burning in the depths of her dark eyes, “use your manners. ask for a taste.”

“oneesan,” you don’t hesitate like you did moments ago, too caught up with the desperation to taste her firsthand, instead of your face buried in her panties trying to taste the minute amount of her through the material, too caught up in your sister’s gravity to bring yourself to care about the humiliating position she had you in. with a broken voice, you plead, “please, let me taste you, oneesan.”

hazel eyes flash at your eagerness, hardly moving an inch in a nod before you're pouncing on her — pawing at her underwear like a woman starved, tugging the material down enough to curl your tongue around the string connecting her to the fabric before you abandoned them in place of spreading her thighs apart, conscious of every precious second that could be spent with your nose bumping against her clit.

if you thought you were addicted before, tasting maki like this had you hooked, euphoria swimming in your veins when your tongue connected with her flesh. you didn't think you could sink any lower than suckling your step-sisters underwear clean in the shared bathroom, but stuffed and kneeling in a bathroom stall at your parents wedding, you realised you had miles left to sink for her. moaning against her skin, you press forward, crawling on your hands and knees to impatiently suck at her skin even as she stumbled into the stall door.

saliva slips down your throat, your lips wet with it when you keen, curling and swirling your tongue over every inch of her cunt you can possibly reach like this, desperately pawing at her thighs to get more, taste more, touch more, just more.

“god,” crossed eyes meet hers, expecting her to look even half as debased as you do, instead eye to eye with her glare, one dark brow quirked, there's only disinterest reflecting back in her pupils, “i finally let you eat my cunt, and this is the best you can do?”

gripping the hair at the base of your skull, she steps over you until you’re stretching awkwardly to keep your head comfortably in her grip, one of your hands holding her ass to stay upright while she positions herself to fuck your mouth, “maybe you should just stick to licking my cum off my underwear. seems that’s all you’re good at.”

tightening her hold on your hair, maki manoeuvres you beneath her, tugging your hair — and subsequently your head — where she wants you. she's slow, deliberate, at first, tortuously so, your tongue tracing sensuously along her slit, dipping into her cunt to taste the cum beginning to drip from her, before she’d drag you backward to her clit.

while pushing and pulling you, her hips grind in a perfect rhythm to soak her pussy, working herself  closer and closer, using your tongue like some toy; grinding harder on your face when she wants to let you have a taste, tugging you back by the hair when she wants to watch the way your lips are connected to her cunt with a silky white string, studying how your eyes roll into your skull, hazy with lust when it snaps back onto your bottom lip.

“so lucky your oneesan is here to teach you how to eat pussy, hm?” her cheeks are flush, the only sign of your affect on her other than the cum sticking to her thighs, to your lips like her perverted take on lip gloss. licking her cum from your mouth, you nod, your eyes darting back to her cunt in a silent plead for her to let you continue, to taste her cum as her thighs shake around your head.

she obliges your taboo request, a hiss echoing in the small stall when you dig your nails into the fat of her ass, burying your face in her once more — gently lapping at her pussy while your nose rubbed against her clit, the scent of her cunt driving you insane, her smell embedded in the hair just above her clit making you dizzy, grateful for your kneeling position, taking everything in you to be patient, to go slow, to follow her movements as she strings you along.

sucking and swirling your tongue around her clit until she cants her hips, slurping and flattening your tongue to drink in much of her as you could, mouthing along her slit when she'd cradle the back of your skull to hold you close to her.

you think she's close, her clit pulsing like yours did beneath your fingers when you'd nearly suffocate yourself with her panties to your nose, her pussy clenching around your tongue, her hips jumping erratically. her moan wavers as her hold on your skull tightens, dull nails scratching angry marks into your scalp as she holds you with both hands, using your face, spreading her cum all around your nose, lips and jaw, your tongue stuck out dumbly as she takes what she needs from you, holding your face deep into her cunt when she cums with an airy, drawn out hum — silky cream drooling straight onto your tongue while you hungrily lapped at her skin, licking her cunt and thighs clean of the precious liquid, ears perking at each of your sister's sharp inhales.

like an over excitable puppy, maki has to pull you away from her again, “you were alright.” she pants, catching her breath as you stare up at her with clouded eyes, “try harder tonight you can keep the panties to jerk off with, pervert."

© all works belong to @a-ikuoliver, @gwen0m, and dlirious on archive of our own, do not plagiarise, translate, repost, feed my works into ai or recommend my work on other platforms, or bind my fanworks for sale.

[stitchwraith-stingers]

HELLO! (points directly at url)

the stitchwraith is made by phineas taggart - a guy who wasnt incapable of feeling emotions (or something equivalent to that) and he loves to expiriment with agony, so he got acouple of items - including an ella doll, if youve read 1:35 am you mightve recognised him as a little cameo (he speaks to plants, and even called the creation of the stitch his own tin man, hes funny, i think tumblr wouldve loved him) and dies the moment the stitchwraith comes alive

the stitchwraith is compromised of two spirits: jake and andrew

jake was a 9 year old boy who had cancer and is the protagonist in the 6th books 2nd story the real jake, its important to note that his father, while away at war iirc, had a small doll that would speak to jake every night, hidden behind a closet, and jake would tell the doll what 'he did that day' (what he wouldve wished he wouldve done) and his caretaker, margie, would come in every night and draw on a thing related to it - if he said that he got into a baseball game then she would draw on a black eye on him, a missing tooth, red around the mouth to signalise the pizza he said he ate that day, as a surprise for him when he won the battle, unfortunatly both jakes father (whos named evan, funnily enough, he has an uncle named micheal too) and jake passed away, leaving margie with the home, which on a unrelated note became infested w cats lol, phineas had used the dolls head (which, inspite of it being implied that jake possessed the doll and ran away, i have zero clue how phineas got his hands on it)

andrew is the, i guess 'antagonist' of the man in room 1280, where hes been keeping william alive for a good while now and keeps confusing four nurses to the point of them calling a priest, he wears an alligator mask i think thats cool, and because of how much agony he has in him and how bitter he has at william (vaild) he is the reason why phineas had died by his touch, he has such a strong sense of emotion it just. kinda goes into everything, if youre wondering how his spirit got into the stitchwaith andrews spirit was also in fetch's battery, i dont know the story about that either ur guess is as good as mine

andrew and jake, together in this stitchwraith body, would collect the rest of what andrew had 'infected', which i only remember foxy from come closer being mentioned

andrew dissapears in the 6th epilouge iirc, long story short william in a massive trash pile monster form (yes he still has those goofy rabbit ears mentioned) had appeared and the two struggling not to kill our other protagonist - detective larson - had plunged themselves into it, andrews spirit is dragged away from williams, leaving jake alone in this vessiel

jake discovers, via accidently touching a homeless man, that he can go into others memories and make them plesant, so the death touch is gone for good, also by skipping towards the end he kinda becomes like, a guardian angel for the ballpit? with the memories of eleanors victims (also not relevant to the conversation dont worry about it) being in there, when he makes millies last memories her spending happily with her family, a single ball had started to glow, and the rest of them slowly did as well

i liked jake, i think hes a sweet protagonist, i thought andrew was interesting too but thats just me being tumblr user stitchwraith-stingers to each their own lol

if anything i wouldnt really exactly say that the stitchwraith is a villain, yeah andrew going "LETS KILL HIM" to some guy in his 40s is bad, but its more or less of a "dont judge a book by its cover" shtick (ESPECIALLY considering the whole renelle plotline), they arent finding trouble they just happened to be able to do that

TLDR: two ghost jokes in one expiriment body, one of them is pissed enough to kill people by touching them and after his spirit gets dragged away the other one can visit peoples memories and kinda maybe sorta becomes a guardian angel, dont worry about it

i fuckign HATE the latter half of fnaf lore so fucking much. i dont care about the mimic. i dont care about the stitchwraith. i dont care about the glitchtrap virus. i dont care about remnant. i CARE about haunted animatronics. can we please go back to haunted animatronics???? with the ghosts and the dead people and etc?? not whatever sci-fi bullshit is going on nowadays??

.

[taniushka12]

would it be too on the nose to name the alice/barry drunk grief sex fic (thats set on alan's bday, and all around him) "wish you were here"?

[hellhoundlair]

venting sorry. i get emotional thinking of the media both me and my dad loved growing up and the father daughter bonds that were the highlights of those movies and tv shows to him and i feel like i failed

[icewindandboringhorror]

misc. daily life photos again .. for the every once in a while that I collect enough over a few months to actually make a photo set out of them lol

[tallandsad]

anyways moving back in w my parents has drastically negatively affected my mental health in ways I didn’t know it could be and it’s been like 8 months and im rly nearing a breaking point it’s no longer funny

[1980ssunflower]

:-c

[vamptastic]

two different times in middle school a (undiagnosed autistic) guy gave me a stuffed animal to profess his undying love and my friends were all like ew no he's weird don't take it but i had such a weakness for stuffed animals that i didn't care if it smelled like cigarette smoke and came with a guy following me to class for two months. in hindsight i do not regret these decisions.

[nomairuins]

my tags on that went on for so long i had to go back and edit them to fit tag limit and i still had to delete a bunch of them. Its the autism it literally is

[hauntedbrb]

havent been able to call margo all day have no projection of when ill be able to call tjem if ill be able to call them and they have been with a friend since 430

[mee-op]

Facts about in-game Yuu (Twisted Wonderland):

NOTES:

This is an ongoing list and will be updated with new information. I'm not caught up w/ chap 6 and I'm not very perceptive. This list is so long because of all the people who commented/sent asks, so thank you Last but not least, some of these might be a stretch/be slightly incorrect so bare w/ me plz :] More Yuu facts [ ONE / TWO ] <- not mine

They've been good friends with Heartslabyul ever since Book 1.

They're forgiving/don't hold any bad blood with the people who've overblotted (at least on the outside).

According to the Harveston event, they can play the flute.

They don't like mentioning that they might return to their world (Deuce's Wishing Star vignette).

Many people consider them a "goody-two-shoes" (Leona, Ruggie).

A good listener.

Based on Malleus' interactions with them, Yuu talks to him a lot more off-screen as he states that he values their opinions.

Loves Grim to hell and back.

It's implied that Yuu invites Malleus over frequently enough that he visits unprompted.

They can be snarky and brutally honest when they're pushed into it.

Comes up with stupid plans that nobody believes will work but it somehow does.

They're insecure about not having any magic.

They want to be able to help their friends.

Has a sense of self-preservation.

Does not actively seek out danger (*cough* om mc *cough*).

They've cleaned up Ramshackle since living there, however, it still looks "abandoned & ancient" on the outside.

Crowley doesn't give them more money than "needed".

Silver states that Yuu is good with swords (PE Uniform).

Both Jamil and Silver seem to think that Yuu is somewhat weird/strange.

They don't know much about mushrooms (Floyd's Camp Vargas vignette).

They're very patient.

Used to be afraid of ghosts until they got to Twisted Wonderland.

They adapt to new/difficult situations quickly and calmly.

They don't complain much.

Very much so the silent type.

The audience doesn't really see anyone helping them out with their situation, so I assume they fix most of their problems themselves.

They don't have any memories of the Great Seven before coming to Twisted Wonderland.

Fluctuates between being observant and not noticing really basic stuff.

Doesn't hesitate to say cheesy things.

Keeps calm in harsh situations.

They know how to play a blowing horn (White Rabbit Event).

Good with instruments.

Not a very good singer (NRC Uniform).

It's implied that they have high stamina.

They're interested in horseback riding and wants to play soccer with Sebek (PE Uniform).

They recommend a few books to Sebek, implying that they read in their free time.

They're short in comparison to Floyd (he calls them Shrimpy).

Grim comments that they're shorter than Vil.

Crowley mumbles that Yuu looks effeminate.

They're a bit of a romantic since they seem to often ask about love stories/fairy tales (Epel & Jade chats).

They have a habit of poking, tugging, tickling and just touching people in general. This is proven through the Home Screen character interactions, so their love language seems to be physical touch.

They get scared easily but is bad at scaring others (Halloween voice lines).

Vil notes that their uniform is baggy.

Malleus says that Yuu has gotten better at dancing (Masquerade Event).

It's implied that Yuu is good/decent at cooking since they have to make meals for both themself and Grim every day.

Yuu is decent at basketball (Ace Halloween).

Deuce remarks about a tiny piece of furniture in Ramshackle and asks if it's for Grim, meaning Yuu makes small furniture for him.

They're a good photographer.

Takes part in photography competitions (Rook Port Fest).

It's implied that Yuu carries their ghost camera everywhere because Crowley constantly makes them record events.

It's said that the game cards are actual photos that Yuu took with the ghost camera. [I don't know if this is true but a lot of people have said so]

Most, if not all the characters tell Yuu to hurry up when choosing a class, which suggests that they're indecisive.

Ace, Deuce and Cater tell Yuu to relax during classes or else they'll run out of energy.

Jack says that he got tips from Yuu while he was working in Monstro Lounge, implying that Yuu might've worked in customer service before (Book 3).

According to Grim, they have a hard time saying no to people, but when they absolutely need to-- they're very serious and a bit intimidating. "You're a real sap sometimes, you know that? Then again, when you bare your teeth it's no joke."

While they won't say no to helping others, they prefer to keep to themselves and avoid drama.

Yuu is sometimes a bit distrustful of Ace and thinks he's tricking them if he offers to do anything nice (2024 Player Birthday Greetings).

It doesn't take much to make them happy. (Deuce & Idia 2024 Player Birthday Greetings).

They became nervous when Riddle invited them to a salon for their birthday. Riddle response saying "I'll be right there with you, and will instruct you in etiquette every step of the way."

They're competitive in class-- at least when it comes to Jack (2024 Player Birthday Greetings).

They took chess lessons to try and beat Leona in a match (2024 Player Birthday Greetings).

For their birthday, Yuu asks Azul to get something that's supposedly hard for an average collector to acquire.

They're surprised when Kalim gifts them a pop-up card for their birthday.

They own a pair of fingerless gloves (gifted by Epel).

They personally invited Vil over for their birthday party and made sure to have healthy food options for him.

Not very close with Idia.

Owns a glass tumbler that reads 'Happy Birthday!' (gifted by Ortho).

Lilia gives them a CD with his screamo performances.

They were gifted so many presents on their birthday that they had trouble carrying the gifts around. (Malleus 2024 Player Birthday Greetings).

[wandaslittlebird]

You Look So Good (On Your Knees)

Voyeur!Mommy!Wanda x Daddy!Natasha x Reader

What was supposed to be just a weekly movie night quickly turns into something else when you catch a glimpse of something you weren’t supposed to see.

CW: Voyeurism, threesome, strap-on, flogging, orgasm denial (? A tiny bit?), caught in the act (once again a tiny bit), punishment, dacryphilia, degradation, hair pulling, choking (not really), reader calls WandaNat mommy/daddy

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: This is for @wandamaximoffsbadgirl. Thank you for all your help! I hope this was worth clawing your way under the door. Writing this (particularly the very end) has put me in a total WandaNat x Reader tailspin so expect some fluffy domestic stuff in the coming weeks.

A/N: I kinda sorta definitely double dipped for this fic, and it’s a spin of a different fic I did for a different fandom. But new fandom new crowd, and I figure almost none of you have read my non-marvel work. So the self-plagiarism is strong, but will probably go unnoticed anyway.

“Wanda? Natasha?” You called into the seemingly empty house.

It was Thursday night, your designated movie night with the couple: your long term friends and fuck buddies. They’d given you a key months ago. So, when you knocked and no one answered you just let yourself in.

You set down your bag in the living room, looking for them around the house. Their cars were both in the driveway. They had to be home. After investigating the first floor, you went upstairs. Maybe they were already in the bedroom waiting for you. That is where you always had your movie nights, after all.

You cracked the door open to find them both on the bed, Natasha underneath Wanda in an intense kiss. Natasha was grinding up against Wanda’s thigh, whining and breathless. You could tell by the way her hips were starting to falter, she was close. They must’ve been at this for a while. You didn’t want to interrupt.

You took a step back, trying to quietly shut the door. Maybe you could just wait downstairs until they finished. But before you could click the door fully shut, you heard Wanda’s commanding voice. “Not so fast, little girl.”

You sighed. You’d been caught. You opened the door back up, revealing Wanda pulling herself away from her wife. She looked at you with a cold glare, curling her fingers, instructing you to come to her.

She had you stand between her legs at the foot of the bed. “Did you not think to knock when coming into mommy and daddy’s room?”

“I-I knocked outside! I couldn’t find you! I was just looking for-“ you desperately tried to explain.

Wanda cut you off with a smirk. “Well, you found us.”

“I-I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Oh but honey, you did interrupt,” Wanda explained condescendingly. “You interrupted and now daddy doesn’t get to cum.”

“W-what? No but she was so close! Please let her cum mommy,” you pleaded on Natasha’s behalf. You genuinely felt terrible. You knew what that kind of denial felt like and you would never wish it on anyone, especially not your daddy.

Natasha smiled when you jumped to her defense, joining you and Wanda at the end of the bed. She beckoned you over to her, quickly pulling you to sit on her lap. She wrapped her arms around your waist, whispering into your ear. “It’s okay, baby. You're gonna make daddy cum so good later, aren’t you?”

You whimpered, shivering against her. God, you had hoped movie night would start like this.

“But for right now,” Wanda started. “We’ve got to teach somebody a lesson about knocking, don’t we? It’s your fault daddy didn’t get to cum, so daddy should be allowed to punish you, shouldn’t she?”

You looked to Natasha, who just raised her eyebrows expectantly, and then you nodded. “Yes mommy.”

“That’s our good girl,” Wanda purred, running her hand down the side of your face and lightly pinching your cheek. “Now, daddy’s gonna get you all set up on the bench while mommy goes to get some toys, okay?”

They both stood almost synchronously. Wanda briefly disappeared into the next room while Natasha hoisted you up in her arms, laying you face down on the leather bench next to the bed. She propped the back part up so it turned into more of a seat.

Wanda came from the closet with a long black leather flogger, her implement of choice for this particular scene. She handed it to Natasha, who smiled and gave her a kiss. Wanda sat down next to you, propped up over a seat you were now straddling.

She wiped the hair from your face. “Ready?”

You nodded into the soft, plush leather of the seat. You could already feel yourself easily slipping into that fuzzy space, where all the thoughts, worries, and responsibilities became irrelevant.

Wanda smiled, noticing the way your eyes glazed over. “I need to hear you say it, angel.”

“Yes, mommy,” you said as clearly as you could muster.

Wanda ran the back of her hand down your cheek. You shivered. She was the only lesbian you’d ever meet who always wore acrylics. The sharp point of her stiletto nails on your face sent tingles down your spine. You closed your eyes, losing yourself to the sensation.

You felt the leather tassels of the flogger brush lightly against your back. You whimpered, squirming in your seat.

“You don’t have to count, honey,” Wanda soothed. “Just let go. Mommy and daddy are gonna take care of you. You don’t have to think about anything at all.”

With that you felt the first sharp sting of leather snap against your back. You let out a noise between a whimper and moan. Natasha started slow, each hit a distinct sensation on your back, but as she started to pick up the pace, the strikes became less distinct.

In less than five minutes, she’d made a mess of you. You whined and squirmed against the leather seat.

“Aww sweetheart,” Wanda cooed. “Do you need mommy to hold you still while daddy whips you?” Before you could answer, the blows stopped.

“Nooo…” you whined. “Daddy keep going. Please I promise I’ll sit still. Please don’t stop.”

Despite your protest, you felt two strong hands pick you from your seat. “I’m not done, princess,” you heard Natasha’s soft voice say. “But you’ve gotta stop squirming or I’m accidentally going to hit you in the kidneys.”

You were lowered into Wanda’s lap, where your legs were forced wider apart in order to straddle her. It made it significantly harder to move. She locked her hand around your thigh to keep you in place. Her other hand gently massaged your hair. “That’s it honey. Mommy will make sure you stay nice and still.”

Her long nails against your scalp were almost enough to make the thoughts fly from your head. “But… But you’ll get hit.”

Wanda chuckled and kissed your temple. “Daddy has excellent aim, sweetheart. I’ll be fine. You don’t need to worry about anything at all.”

The leather cracked against your back again. It hurt more now that your back was already raw. If not for Wanda’s hand pinning you in place, you might’ve jumped off her lap entirely. You whined wrapping your arms around Wanda.

She cradled your head over her shoulder, gently shushing your cries as she watched Natasha bring the leather down against your back over and over again.

“Mommy…” you whined into her ear. You were trying to ride her thighs like you had ridden the leather seat, but the awkward position prevented you from getting any friction whatsoever. It wasn’t even until Wanda felt drops of warmth on her thighs that she realized why you were whining.

“Aww,” she hummed, “you’re making a bit of a mess on mommy’s lap, baby.”

“I’m sorry, mommy,” you mumbled into her shoulder. “I just… it feels so good.”

“All this just from a flogging, sweetheart?” She teased. She would’ve loved to tease you further, but she was genuinely afraid you’d accidentally hurt yourself if she stopped holding you in place, much less if she had her hand between your legs.

You blushed, burying your face into her neck. “Mommy…” you whined when the leather stung your back once again. “Mommy please…”

Wanda’s heart melted at your words. The combination of your pathetic voice begging her for relief and your frail body in her arms made her want to ruin you in a different way. You were just so vulnerable. It would be such a waste to not take advantage of you in this state. “Alright,” She cooed. “I think she’s learned her lesson, hasn’t she Tasha?”

Natasha chuckled, but she stopped her flogging. “Do you think she’s learned her lesson, or have you just gone soft for a ‘mommy please’?”

Wanda wrapped her arm around your back, long nails still masterfully massaging your scalp. She rocked you back and forth in her lap. “Oh come on Tasha, look at her: getting all pathetic and leaky in her mommy’s lap. Doesn’t it just make you wanna…”

“Throw her on the bed and fuck her into the mattress until the only things in her little head are mommy and daddy?” Natasha finished.

“Exactly,” Wanda smiled mischievously. It was such a marvelous thing that she married someone who was always on the same wavelength as she was.

You were promptly picked up out of Wanda’s lap from behind. You whined, reaching out for Wanda.

“Now now,” Natasha chided. “None of that. Mommy’s not going anywhere. She’s gonna be here with you the whole time.”

She guided you to kneel on the bed, nudging your legs apart. Almost instinctively, your hands were crossed at the wrist behind your back.

Wanda hadn’t exactly planned on binding your wrist, but when you sat so perfectly, so expectantly, she could hardly resist.

“Natasha, would you like to bind this little darling's hands for us?” She instructed.

Natasha smiled, eagerly grabbing a length of pink ribbon and getting to work on tying your wrists together. She so loved tying you up. While a simple figure 8 around the wrists would’ve done the trick, she decided instead on a more complex design that would bind you up to the elbow. She knew she had time. Wanda would require a thorough inspection before she’d let Nat fuck you.

Wanda ran a singular finger through your slit. Her cold rings and sharp nail bumped over your clit as she dragged her hand upward. The sensation caused you to jump and whimper. Wanda just chuckled, bringing her finger lightly up your body until it was at your lips. You took her finger obediently between your lips.

“Do you think your ready for daddy to fuck you, baby?” she asked. “Does this needy pussy want daddy’s cock?”

You nodded, trying not to wince as her rings made their way onto your tongue, filling your mouth with a metallic taste.

“Which of daddy’s toys do you want, huh?” She asked, intentionally pushing down on your tongue so you couldn’t talk. “I’ll think I’ll have daddy use the purple strap. The one with the- what did you call them- the ‘mean ridges’? The ones that scrap against your special spot?”

You whined around her finger, giving her the most endearing puppy dog eyes you could possibly muster.

“Oh sweetheart,” she cooed, “do you not like that one? Maybe you’d prefer it if daddy tied you to the chair and you watched her fuck mommy instead, hmm? Maybe you’d just prefer not to have any orgasms at all?”

You shook your head frantically. You wanted to protest, to promise you’d be good and take that dreaded purple strap, but you couldn’t speak.

She chuckled. “That’s what I thought, baby. You’re gonna be a good girl for mommy and daddy, aren’t you?”

You nodded. She pulled her finger from your mouth and tilted your head up to kiss you gently.

“That’s our sweet girl,” she praised. “Aw it looks like daddy’s finished tying you up all pretty. Can you say thank you to daddy?”

You craned your neck to the side, trying to see her behind you. “Thank you, daddy, for tying me up all pretty.”

Natasha laughed, pulling you back towards her by the ribbon. She kissed you and smiled. “You’re welcome, baby. Can you show mommy your pretty ribbon?”

You attempted to turn around to show Wanda the way your hands and arms were intricately bound behind your back, but Natasha pushed you forward into the mattress. You yelped, surprised by the sudden move.

“A present, wrapped special for you, my love,” Natasha said to Wanda, leaning over you to kiss her wife.

“You always know just what to get me,” Wanda breathed against her lips. “Now go get ready, love. I wanna watch you make our sweet little girl cry.”

Natasha climbed off the bed behind you, disappearing into the next room.

Wanda’s nails were against your sore back, rubbing soothing as you lay in wait. You attempted to sit up, but Wanda clicked her tongue. “No, baby,” she chided. “Stay just like this.”

You felt the bed dip as Natasha climbed back on behind you. Her calloused hands lifted your hips so you were kneeling tall. The angle forced your face even further into the mattress. You couldn’t put your hands out to hold yourself up with them tied up behind your back.

Natasha ran the tip of the strap up and down your slit, pulling a muffled moan from your lips. She lined the toy up with your entrance, gently easing it inside. She threw her head back and moaned as she felt each of the ‘mean ridges’ push into you, then she pushed your hips forward and pulled them back, silently commanding you to fuck yourself as you adjusted to her girth.

The toy was, admittedly, slightly too big for you to manage without any discomfort. The ridges cruelly raked against your inner walls, causing you to wince with each movement. But with time, you were able to adjust to feel only a slight, delicious stretch.

After you’d grown to a moderate pace, Natasha took over, grabbing your thighs and pulling them back to meet her own. You let your body go limp, allowing Natasha to control your movements completely. You were putty in her hands.

“Fuck, Wands you should see her from here,” Natasha groaned, looking down and watching the large toy disappear inside of you over and over again. “Fuck it’s like she swallowing me whole. Needy little cunt. Can’t get enough of daddy’s cock can you?”

You tried to bury your face into the sheets to muffle the noises she tore from you, but you were unsuccessful. Without your hands or your arms, your range of motion was severely limited.

Wanda’s eyes went wide and her face cracked into a smile when she heard the first hiccup of a cry. She leaned forward. “Tasha, hold her up. I want to see her face.”

Natasha reached down and grabbed your hair, pulling your head up so you were face to face with Wanda. She could see the build up of tears in the corners of your eyes and the way your bottom lip quivered, threatening to give way to a sob.

“Aww, sweet girl,” she cooed. “Are you going to cry for mommy? It’s okay angel, you can cry. Daddy’s not gonna stop fucking you even if you are going to be a sobbing little mess.”

Natasha fucked you harder, nearly pulling all the way out before she slammed back into you again. She kept your head up, forcing you to look at Wanda even as your eyes rolled back and your vision went blurry with tears. Natasha wrapped her hand around your throat, grabbing you just under your chin. She braced her forearm against your chest, pinning you upright against her.

The position only accentuated the effect of the ridges, causing them to bump more aggressively against the spongy spot inside of you. “Aww look at how pathetic you look, crying your little eyes out while daddy fills you with her cock.” Wanda teased.

You felt Natasha’s breath hot against your ear. “Tell mommy how pathetic you are.”

You offered little more than a whine in response. Your bottom lip continued to tremble as tears rolled down your cheeks.

“Aww, sweet girl, there’s no need to be embarrassed,” Wanda assured. “It’s just me and daddy.”

You weren’t truly embarrassed, if you were being honest. You honestly felt like a masterpiece: a carefully constructed vision that Wanda and Natasha had crafted you into. But you played coy nonetheless. You had more fun when Wanda told you how pathetic you looked anyway.

“Poor thing,” Wanda taunted, “never learned how to take a proper fucking without crying.” Her eyes never left yours. Everything about watching her wife handle your helpless body drove her wild.

“I’m sorry mommy… I can’t help it… daddy’s cock feels so good inside of me,” you panted.

Natasha felt a burst of heat in her own core. Between yours and Wanda’s words she could feel herself creeping towards the edge. She just needed a bit of a different angle. She released her hold on you, causing you to fall helplessly back into the mattress. Wanda gently turned your head, preventing you from muffling yourself in the sheets.

You cursed. The combination of Wanda’s gentle hands and the new angle that hit all your most sensitive spots had you so close to an orgasm. All it would take was just a little more pressure on your clit. Unfortunately, with your hands bound behind your back, you were completely at their mercy.

“Please…” you begged mindlessly. “Please don’t stop. Fuck daddy. Please never stop.” You felt so certain that if Natasha pulled out of you right now, you’d simply die on the spot.

“You want to cum on daddy’s cock so badly don’t you?” Wanda teased. “But you can’t touch yourself. Poor baby.”

Natasha changed her pace. She could feel her own orgasm building as she felt the pull of the toy’s ridges pumping in and out of you. “Beg for mommy to let you cum, baby. I wanna hear you begging like the little slut you are.”

“Fuck!” you sobbed. The words poured out of your mouth nearly as fast as the tears poured from your eyes. “Please I’m all yours. I’m mommy and daddy’s little slut. Please, you can use me whenever you want. I’m just a little toy for mommy and daddy. Please I just need daddy’s cock inside me forever. Mommy please let me cum.”

“That’s a good girl,” Wanda praised, “begging mommy and daddy to use you like a little toy. That’s all you are right? A toy for mommy and daddy’s pleasure?”

“Yes!” you chanted. “Yes! I’m mommy and daddy’s toy. Please let me cum. Please mommy.”

“I wanna see you cum on daddy’s cock. Can you be a good girl and cum on daddy’s cock for mommy?” She asked.

Natasha curled her arm around your waist, pinching your clit and milking it between her fingers. Your eyes rolled back and your mouth opened in a silent scream as you fell apart.

Natasha continued to fuck you as you came, clenching around the strap. The pulsing put the perfect amount of pressure on her own clit, sending her into an orgasm not long after you.

She steadied herself on your hips, taking a few deep breaths in an attempt to regain her composure. She pulled the ribbon, and Wanda watched in fascination as the entire thing unraveled itself. They both chuckled as your arms bonelessly flopped down beside you.

Natasha hooked her arm around your waist to prevent you from simply collapsing when she pulled out. She laid you gently on your side before climbing off the bed. She disappeared into the bathroom, leaving you with Wanda.

You whined as the toy left, suddenly feeling terribly empty. Wanda sat down on the bed next to you, chuckling again as she bent over to kiss your temple. “I know, love. It’s just devastating that daddy can’t stay inside you forever, isn’t it?”

You nodded, whining again as you felt her wipe away the remnants of your orgasm.

“You did so well for us, love,” she praised, adjusting your position on the bed so you rested against the pillows. She pulled up some blankets, smiling as you wiggled in blissful content. “Comfy, honey?”

You nodded, reaching your arms out for her.

She crawled into bed next to you, wrapping her arms around you. She kissed your forehead, earning herself a dopey, blissed out smile from you. She kissed your cheek, licking up what was left of a few salty tears. She moaned at the taste.

Natasha came out of the bathroom, freshened up in nothing but a pair or boxers. She joined you and Wanda in bed, crawling in next to you. She kissed the top of your head. “Are you girls ready for movie night?”

You nodded. “I already promised mommy she gets my movie night cuddles this time, though.”

“What the hell?” Natasha said jokingly, pulling you forcibly into her lap and berating you with kisses. “Daddy fucks you so hard you can’t think straight and mommy still get the movie night cuddles?”

You giggled, squirming out of her kiss attack. “You always fall asleep anyway!”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah. Because I just fucked you so hard you couldn’t think straight. You wear me out, little girl.”

“Fine, daddy cuddles until you fall asleep, and then mommy cuddles,” you compromise.

“That sounds perfect, princess,” Natasha smiled, kissing you briefly.

You looked to Wanda for her approval. She smiled. “Fine. You can cuddle with daddy for the 20 minutes she’s awake, and then you’re all mine for the rest of the night.”

You wrapped your arms around both of them, pulling them into a tight hug. “Deal.”

[truckstoptigers]

i feel like i need to tell my sister's mom about what he did

it doesn't sit well with me that there could be a possibility he's hurting her or has hurt her the same way. she's eleven just like i was when it stopped

i feel like i'm responsible because i'm the one that left. i feel like i left her. i left her with him and i didn't look back why didn't i say anything she was so little why didn't i tell?

i don't really believe in god but i pray our father hasn't already done the same to her

i don't know if i could take it

[screampied]

boss at work and lovers in private w hiromi? He was very strict with the user at work and acts a bit rude/mean sometimes with reader.

But once they got home he fucks her nice and slow in bed as an apology for being mean at work <3

❤︎ ໋𓈒 higuruma who’s strictly mean in the workplace but makes sure to make it up to you at home.

warnings. fem! reader, dirty talk, unprotected, doggystyle, praise.

higuruma was a man who always took work seriously…

a workaholic if you will.

you always found yourself trying to tease him sometimes whenever he’d be working, and he’d just give you a glare. oftentimes, he’d be a bit stern and perhaps rude. although you couldn’t deny the bass in his tone whenever he spoke to you with such seriousness made you feel a bit…tingly.

just the rough rasp in his tone whenever he spoke directly to you, withholding intimate eye contact and telling you to stop fooling around and focus at the job at hand.

nevertheless, he did feel a bit bad, in fear that feasibly he was a bit too mean to his pretty baby. so he promises to make it up to you once the two of you get home. and that’s exactly what he does.

you couldn’t wait and neither could he. higuruma remained with his work clothes on, long black slacks pulled down briefly and the only sounds you could make out was the clanking of his belt. letting off a choked whine, you were willingly taking him from behind, and his touch..

higuruma stretches you out continuously with such ease, he’s got both of your wrists pinned behind your back before muttering, “i’m sorry baby. was i annoying you earlier?”

“y-yeah.” you moaned, feeling his tip brush right against that spot.

amorously, he slides a tongue across his lips while drilling into your cunt—you’re a stuttering mess. with a low chuckle departing from his lips, he hums.

“good,” and you bite your lip, his thrusts fulfilling you entirely. each sloppy hit that went against you time and time again, it left your mind completely dumbfounded. a quite perfect synonym to define your current state after all. “oh, don't whine all cute like that, y’know ‘m just teasing..”

higuruma’s words were so smooth and his tone was wholly soft spoken.

for a second, he dips his hips against you and you whimper, running your restrained fingers against his.

“god, you’re so pretty from behind. you know that, sweetheart?” his words went straight towards your pussy, that never failed to twitch on constant repeat. “such a perfect view. wish you could see for yourself, my love.”

“h-hirooo,” you’d mewl out, the right side of your cheek pressed down against the plump mattress. he knew just where to strike you with his dick, not too rough and not too soft.

just right. immensely, your toes curled each time he’d run his tip against your g-spot for a good two seconds, eliciting a loud moan from you. “fuck, f-fuck.”

“baby, you’ve got quite the mouth on you, huh?” he pokes fun, and you shiver once you feel the cold band of his watch trail against your skin. he presses a hand down your back, making you arch for him just a bit more and your eyes roll back yet again. “you’ve been pestering me at work all day, ‘s this what you wanted hm? wanted some attention—?”

the pleasures that pierced through your body was indefinable.

all you knew was that it felt so good, the way he pivots and smacks his hips softly against your ass, rolling and rotating them to where your head’s spinning like a merri go round.

“no,” you lied, and he huffs out a breath, grinning at you still having some brat left within you. once he deepens his thrusts for a short second, your mind pauses—you’re dumb, cock dumb if that even was a correct term for it, and you moan out. “y-yes.. you’re right, you were just so m-mean.”

he groans, feeling your slick start to stick against him throughout each movement he makes by rutting in and out of your greedy pussy.

“if i make you cum one more time, will that make up for it then, sweetheart?”

“m-mhm,” you’d nod, strings of your own spit falling against the sheets — oh, how much of a mess you were for him. only higuruma could have you like this, in this position. face nearly pushed against the mattress yet he’s presenting you with soft gentle thrusts. “make me cum, please hiromi.”

“pretty girl, you know i will,” he murmurs, and you let off a muffled moan once you bite your teeth into the pillow that remained underneath your chest. it was just the way his thickness dragged so easily against your folds. you could never get enough, his size had you drooling with such lewdness. “relax, don’t wanna strain that cute voice with all that moaning do ya?”

he watches you shake your head, and he chortles.

“sweet thing,” and his hips were so sensual against you, it was unfathomable to how good it made you feel. how good he made you feel. in the pit of your stomach—you felt something stirring, brewing up inside. butterflies perhaps, you pulsed between your thighs before he feels your leg start to jitter in utter anticipation. “ooh. ‘s coming isn’t it? you feel it too, my love?”

“r-right there,” you’d squeal, and by this particular point, your legs grew limp. his movements were unpredictable. higuruma’s jaw tightens as he’s balls deep, gawking at you clawing your nails down the white silkened sheets before bawling it up into the palms of your hands. “gonna c-cum, hiro. hiro.”

he slides a thumb against the corner of your back, maintaining a gentle tip against your hips before uttering in a husky voice, “yeah you are. c’mon baby. just let go for me. ‘s okay to be a little messy, yeah?”

“okay,” you’d babble, such thick inches that remained inside of you. your knees grew weak, he had such a grip against your waist that the pads of his thumbs pressed lightly down before caressing. higuruma always knew your most tenderest bits, the spots to drive you crazy. “h-hiro, ‘m cumming..”

a gasp exits from your mouth once you felt it, your entire body paused and juddered as a response.

your lips parted and the feeling made you grow quiet for a moment — ears, the very tips of them reaching such warmth of heat before you moan out his name once more. “t-thank you, thank you.”

“don’t thank me yet, gorgeous.” he whispers, leaning in to press a kiss against your back. “we aren’t done,” he says, and your legs still shook, sensitive before he turns you over to face him, pressing a wet kiss against your mouth. “i need more of you, and you need to be reminded of your place,” and his words were filled with such flirtatiousness yet was delivered so sweet. “so, just lie back and let me fond over this body just a little while longer.”

[1980ssunflower]

i miss my babies sm :-c

[sugudoe]

᭡ ★ ׁ ׅ 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐒 ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ ᝰ gojo satoru used to be a lonely child, that was until you started to be there for him — to hear his complains, to run away from the clan for a few hours, and to decorate his hair with flowers. you are his most sacred person, he is your most loved one.

ᡴꪫ a/n: bring me back my man, gege!!! this was inspired by the confirmation he would sneak away from home and this, he would’ve been a mama’s boy. @emilyywhyy. using new tag, masterlist.

ᡴꪫ c/w: child!gojo, teen!gojo \\ child!reader, teen!reader \\ fluff and angst \\ bittersweet ending, but happy. \\ gender neutral!reader \\ 1.3k words.

They say the day Gojo Satoru was born, the balance of the world shifted. Everyone would stare at him with reverence, as if he was a a saint and the gift from the gods, when in fact he was a martyr, born to suffer. For you, though, he was just a boy — just your Satoru.

You had been by his side for a long time, being born in a world where his presence was constant, just a couple months older than you. You father was an experienced teacher for the clan, and your mother their most loyal historian. Both of them had been tasked with helping Gojo to understand his powers and control it, and you, always so curious, stayed by their side. Quietly and cautious, staring at him.

White hair, blue eyes, stoic face and strange ways. Sometimes, too rude, others, too playful. Inside of him there were two personalities in constant crash, one that longed to be just a child and other that was meant to be the strongest.

He envied you for many reasons. You could play with the other children, your tasks seemed less rough than his, and… Oh, he envied how loved you were by your parents. When you would accompany him in one of his classes, arriving in your messy hair and dirty kimono for playing too much, eyes filled with happiness and your parents would beam at you, they lovely child.

Would they have sold you, had you been the strongest of your family? Or would they have fought? How much money, status and power would it take for any good person in this world to be corrupted?

Satoru didn’t want to know the answer to those questions, he likes you and your parents that way — warm hugs and sweet kisses. Never would Satoru trade places with you, for him, you were so pure to deal with what he has been going through.

You were the one to approach him first, finding him hiding between the trees that surrounded the clan’s houses, tears guarded by his hands, and he was betrayed by his trembling shoulders.

“Why are you crying?” You stepped closer very slowly, as if approaching a scared animal.

“I want to go home.” Satoru answers, making your small child mind wander what he meant. Isn’t this the Gojo’s lands? “I want my mommy.”

Oh.

Even naive as you were, you understood right away. You have seen her before, one of the most beautiful woman you have ever met. Quiet, walking around the gardens, her pale skin in contrast with the roses, but everything about her and around seems dull. Maybe it’s the lack of her child that makes her like this. No money in the world could replace it, and she was only a woman in a world controlled by men. Her wishes and demands wouldn’t be heard, never.

“Sometimes, they let us see each other.” You are putting daffodils on Satoru’s hair when he starts talking again. “She pretends she is fine, and tells me how proud she is. Her hugs are longer each time, and the meetings are less as well.”

“And how about your dad?” You ask, when he is the one decorating your hair with trembling fingers.

“He…” Satoru sighs. “He is just there. Tells me to listen to the maesters, to your father. That one day I’ll make everyone proud, and be the strongest.”

“I’m proud of you.” You feel the need to say it, so you do. And maybe, it’s what you had to do, Satoru smiles slightly, before raising to his feet and grabbing you with him. He starts to run in a direction you have never been before. “Where are we going?”

“Trust me.” You do. That moment and every moment forward, you would trust Gojo.

You both arrived in the city after an hour of walking and running, babbling about your favorites everything.

His favorite animal is a dog, but he can’t have one. His favorite food is taiyaki, but he never tasted it. And, his favorite color, he stops to think and stare at you for a while, before going with the one you think looks exactly as your eyes. You tell him yours, and that you both can fix all his curiosities, right now.

With your little purses, coins clicking inside as you run through the streets, buying whatever he needs and has never experienced before, Satoru learns that he doesn’t like taiyaki, rather he finds his favorite being Kikufuku.

Sharing a strawberry ice cream, Gojo halts his movements, and you sense something coming from him — it’s what makes him being called the stronger one, the so long awaited hero. Like gravity has gone away, and the sky is falling on top of you, ready to crush everything.

“They are watching us. Let’s go home.” Had he been alone, that wouldn’t bother him, but you were still innocent, not yet developed your technique.

So, with daffodils still in your heads, you both return home to disapproving looks and a stomach filled with sugar.

Inside the groves, a tradition was born. If the weight of the world became too much to bear, Satoru would find you there. You always knew when he needed you the most, like a calling only you could sense. It burned in your chest until you reached him, and in front of Gojo, you would pick flowers and decorate his wild hair with it, or teach him how to make flower crowns or… rings.

“I wish I could burn this whole place to the ground.” He says once, while admiring the petals on your finger, he proudly made. Anger had been his friend for a while now, when he learned he would go to Jujutsu tech. He was happy and scared, and already missing you. “Except you, of course, and your parents, and my mom and… and this woods. This is ours, right?”

“Yes, ‘Toru. This is ours.” You hold his cold face with your other hand, while smiling calmly. “It will always be ours.” Closing the gap, you rest your head on his. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

“I’m not going away forever. It feels like it, but I’ll be back, every weekend, I promise. And… I could exchange to the Kyoto school.”

“No, Satoru. You need freedom.”

“I need you as well.” He counterparts. “I’ll never be free from the expectations of the world, we could, at least, be stuck together.” He is nearly crying again.

“They won’t accept me, my cursed technique is nothing too special.” You sigh, falling in the grass, and he goes behind.

“I disagree. You will see, they will come begging for you, and you will tell them to go fu…” You raise your hands to his mouth, giggling as if you were seven, and not a nearly fifteen years old girl. “I’ll make them come for you, and if they don’t, I will. I’ll always come to you, and our daffodils.”

And indeed, he does. He comes for you months later, accompanied by two other kids and round sunglasses you’ve never seen before. Gojo Satoru comes for you, to grab your hands, pack your clothes, kiss his mothers cheeks knowing that won’t ever happen again, even if he wants so much.

She tells she is proud of him, his father tell him he is nearly there. Gojo wonders what would be enough to be enough. He tries not to care, inside the car with you, hands interlocked, jokes being shared and daffodils, always them, on both your heads and fingers.

You’re proud of him, and he is nowhere near his freedom, but the responsibilities feel less strong, his sadness less real. You’re here, always will be.

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