#just needs more of a personal touch and soul

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

MY BIG SISTER GLOWS!!!

How Damians obsession with Weird neglected black!Reader started

To the average untrained eye, you look regular—nothing too special about your looks or facial features. But to the eye of an artist like Damian, you seem unearthly, and to Damian, you glow like the North Star. Your light could dim any constellation and put them to shame. But you’re not the only one in the house that glows; to Damian, Dick's glow is aqua green—it's cool and calm, and it fills the whole room, drowning out anybody else's glow. Jason's glow is bright red; people may think it's because of his anger, but it’s more about his passion and how it fills anything he touches. Tim's glow is a cool cerulean blue—calm and calculated—but it can shine brightly but also remain subtle. However, Damian hadn’t seen your glow for quite some time. He had seen Bruce's and Alfred's, heck, even Steph's, but he had just never managed to see you glow. Your light was never seen in the manor, but outside the manor was a whole other can of worms. As the little weasel walked to his next class, he heard giggling from a group of girls. He ignored it at first; still, he heard a small snort.

"[Name], was that a snort?" a girl said, her mouth wide open like an alligator. Damian's ears perked up at your name; he swiftly turned around to a bright light, so bright it rivaled the sun. It was your light; it was a soft yellow and sparkled as if tiny little stars surrounded you. Damian never knew you could glow, especially in that color, and he never knew you could laugh like that. Your laughs were always small giggles or snickers that lasted a second or more, but this laugh was coming from your very soul, and it lasted much longer.

"Shut up, Zuri, it's not a snort." You denied it quickly, but your snort still came out, and you covered your mouth while laughing. Your glow outshined all the girls, and it seemed to fill the room. He had never seen you like this—never. You were always so brash or closed off, and your glow was usually dim. But at school, it was a whole other thing. Now that Damian saw you like this, he began to sketch every moment you glowed, and sketch he did. There would be pages upon pages dedicated to you and your star-like glow. He committed to memory the way your nose scrunched up, how your eyes squinted, and how your full lips parted into the biggest smile. You would throw your head back making your dreads fall over your shoulders. He knew it by heart; he could close his eyes and paint a picture just with the memory of your smile. But these brief moments of laughter at school weren't enough; he needed to see up close and personal. Deep down, he wanted to be the one who made you glow, but you wouldn't let him. It was like forcing a bird to sing; it only happened naturally. Your glow around him was dim and dark, reminding him of his old glow before even going to the manor. But the young prince felt entitled to your glow, to your shine. He was the grandson of the demon head and the blood son of the bat. How dare you deny him something he so deserved! Sure, he could be cruel at times and rude; sure, his words could break you into a thousand pieces, but he's sorry—he really is. So let him see you shine. Let him paint you and make that glow immortal. Let him see it, after all, you both come from the same blood. It's only fair you let those peasants see your glow, but not him, there beneath you! You know that, right!? So why let these fools see your glow when he is so much more worthy?!

[babyboywilson]

sitting on the couch, hands interlocked, with a mostly empty box of valentine’s chocolates balanced on cas’ thigh, dean squeezed cas’ hand softly.

4 years.

they’d been married 4 years.

dean didn’t even think he’d be able to manage 4 months in an actual relationship without pushing the other person away or running the other direction as quick as he could because commitment wasn’t his thing. but here cas was 4 years later. still sitting by dean’s side. still wearing the ring dean had slid onto his ring finger in front of their family. still loving dean more and more every day.

cas had showered dean with valentine’s and wedding anniversary gifts throughout the day. but dean was holding onto his gift for cas. waiting for the right moment to give it to him. they were sat watching an old western movie-one of dean’s favorites- but dean wasn’t paying attention. he was reflecting on their marriage. how they’d ended up here. how they were still married after 4 years.

there were good days and bad days. days where dean couldn’t stand looking at cas’ face and he stormed out the room and blasted his music as loud as it would go. days where cas would sleep on the couch because he refused to touch dean if dean was going to act like a dick. but the one thing they never did was walk out. they never left. they went as far as a couple rooms apart and that was it. they needed the reassurance that even when they were seething with rage, they could still find their way back to each other. they could still see each other and know they were there. because that fear that seeped in was undeniable. the fear clawed it’s way up dean’s throat - seeing cas dragged away by black ooze with no way for dean to save him. the despair cas felt of being completely alone with nothing but emptiness surrounding him and no way back to dean.

but there were good days too. and god, were they good. the way cas would surprise dean by cooking dean dinner on a random tuesday after dean had been out in the garage working on the impala for hours. dean stopping to get cas flowers on his way home from the grocery store just to see the fond smile on cas’ face. the absolutely tender way cas made love to him, so soft and gentle it tore dean’s heart apart and put it back together again brighter than ever. how cas would be walking down the hall with a basket of laundry and dean would snag the basket from his hands, press cas back against the wall, and make out with him until there were stars in cas’ eyes just because the angel was walking around in dean’s old sweatshirt and the sight was so good dean wanted to meld their souls together by kissing cas breathless.

it was worth it. the good and the bad. it was worth it all to have this beautiful angel by his side.

his husband.

cas squeezed dean’s hand back, breaking dean from his thoughts.

“what are you thinking about?” cas asked, dragging his thumb softly across the back of dean’s hand.

dean dragged his eyes away from the tv and over to cas. he hadn’t been watching anyway. he’d been too busy thinking about cas. “you,” he said simply.

“i’m right here,” cas said gently. the same way he always did when dean got lost in thought. that soft look was back on cas’ face again. the look of sheer adoration the angel got when he allowed dean to see and feel the love cas had for him.

finally, dean had found the right moment. with his free hand, he reached out and opened the drawer of the coffee table, pulling out a wooden box. a box he’d spent weeks carving himself in the garage. “happy valentine’s day,” dean said, placing the box into cas’ hand.

cas looked down at the box, then up to dean, and back down to the box. “that’s… there’s… where did you find a box with enochian on it?”

shaking his head, dean shifted cas’ fingers to trace over the enochian carved into the lid of the box. “i didn’t.”

cas’ eyebrows scrunched downwards in confusion, until he’d traced the last letter with his fingertip. ‘cas winchester.’

“you made this?”

dean nodded softly. “enochian is a bitch of a language to learn,” he said with a huff. guiding cas’ hand, he opened the box, revealing a carved wooden ring cushioned in the center of the box.

cas’ eyes filled with tears as he stroked his thumb over the ring. recognition dawned over his face a moment later as he translated the enochian. “that’s… our vows. you engraved our vows in enochian?”

all dean could do was nod. his throat suddenly felt thick with unshed tears and words seemed to fail him. slowly, cas slipped the ring from the box and slid it onto his ring finger above the gold band that dean had placed there 4 years ago. on their wedding day, dean had brought cas’ hand to his lips and kissed his finger where the ring sat. and he found himself copying the motion now; guiding cas’ hand up to his lips and placing a soft lingering kiss against the wooden ring on cas’ finger.

the look in cas’ eyes as he locked gazes with dean was so lovestruck that dean glanced away. too much love. too much devotion. it made dean feel like he was breaking apart; shattering into pieces in cas’ hands.

“dean,” cas murmured, reaching out and stroking his hand across dean’s jaw; tilting his head until cas could rest their foreheads together.

taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, dean whispered in enochian, “I love you, cas. happy anniversary.”

when their lips met in kiss, dean felt cas’ grace spark between them; healing dean and intertwining their love until it became one. “I love you, too.”

[ivesambrose]

𝐴 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢 💌

Happy Valentine's Day everyone ❤️

This is a love letter with your name on it, there's someone out there who has something to say to you 💌

To Book a personal reading with me DM or email me at ivesambrose@gmail.com

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Envelope 1

To the one my heart recognises,

You move through life like a dreamer caught between worlds, always reaching, always searching, always holding a litle more hope than you let on. And I see it. I see you.

You chase after the things your heart aches for, even when the path twists, even when the road splits in too many directions. You weigh choices in your hands like they hold the weight of the universe, afraid to step too far in the wrong direction. But, love, you are never lost to me. No matter where you go, no matter how far you run, I will always find you. Because I already know the shape of your soul.

The world hasn't always been kind to you, and I know you carry the weight of thingS unspoken, the fractures from moments that tried to break you. But even in your quietest battles, you are still becoming. still unfolding into someone even more extraordinary than you were yesterday. And I will be here, beside you, through every rebirth

So leap. Make the reckless choice. Follow the dream that won't let you sleep at night. You were not meant to stay within lines drawn by other people's expectations, you were meant to break through, to touch the sky, to chase the impossible and make it yours.

And if ever you need a hand to hold, a heart that won't waver, or someone who will remind you of the fire in your soul, you already know where to find me.

I am yours. Always.

Envelope 2

With all that I am,

The one who was always meant for you.

To the One My Soul Knows,

Loving you is like standing beneath the moon, soft light, deep mystery, and the quiet knowing that some things are felt more than they are understood. There are parts of you that shift like tides, emotions that swell and retreat, thoughts that linger in the silence before sleep. And I love every version of you, every hidden depth, every unspoken word.

You are a force, a wild thing that cannot be tamed, and I would never want to. There is something raw, something instinctual about the way you move through this world like you are both ancient and new, both fearless and tender. I see the hunger in you, the ache for something real, something lasting. Love is not a word you take lightly. Nor do I.

With you, I see forever. Not in the way stories promise perfect endings, but in the way two souls recognize each other across lifetimes. In the way your touch feels like something I’ve known before, something I would know again, no matter where time places us. You are home, not because you make things easy, but because you make them true.

I want to build a life with you, not just in the quiet, beautiful moments, but in the raw, messy, achingly real ones. I want to know the thoughts you never say aloud, the dreams you keep close to your chest. I want to trace every part of you, mind and body, learning you in ways no one else ever has.

Loving you is a temple I will worship in for as long as you’ll let me. You are the question, the answer, the universe wrapped in skin. And if there is a destiny greater than this, I do not want to know it.

You are mine, and I am yours. In this life, and in every one after.

Forever,

The one who chooses you.

Envelope 3

To the One Who Holds My Heart,

Loving you is an unfolding, slow, steady, something delicate but unshakable. It isn’t always easy, and I know that. You carry so much in that beautiful mind of yours, thoughts that keep you awake when the world is quiet, worries that press against your chest like weights only you can feel. But you don’t have to hold it all alone. Not with me.

I see you. The way you give, the way you pour yourself into others, always making sure there is enough love to go around. But love, when was the last time you let yourself receive? When was the last time you let someone hold you the way you hold everyone else? I want to be that for you. Not just in fleeting moments, but in all the ways that matter.

I don’t need you to have it all figured out. I don’t need you to be perfect. I only need you to know that you are already enough, just as you are. Even in your quiet, even in your uncertainty, even in the moments you hesitate to let yourself be fully seen. You don’t have to keep your heart wrapped in caution, hidden away like a gem buried deep in the earth. Let it breathe. Let it shine.

Love doesn’t have to be rushed. It doesn’t have to be forced. It’s something we build, something we water, something that grows in its own time. So take my hand. Let’s rest in this moment together, without worrying about what comes next.

Because no matter how long it takes, no matter how many times the world shifts around us, I will still be here.

Always,

The one who chooses you, again and again.

[for-ests]

Under The Same Name: Gojo Satoru x Reader

a/n: IM BACK FINALLY. sorry for the hiatus but its finally semi edited... here's the long-awaited smut. i hope its satisfactory I'm a bit rusty I wont lie:( thank you so much for the support regardless^^ I hope you enjoy<3 

chapter 10 of Suffocation: Gojo Satoru x Reader but can be read as stand-alone!

warnings: shameless romantic smut

∘∙∘☾𖤓∘∙∘

Would it have ever been possible for you to predict this moment? If given the chance, even a few weeks sooner, would you have loved Gojo Satoru as much as you did now?

Your heart screamed yes. Not just once, but repeatedly. And that was the only confirmation you needed. All you wanted to think about was the feeling of Gojo’s body against yours. The tranquility you felt laying beside him, satisfied to know all your worries fled from his presence alone. His touch, his taste, his love.

It was clear now that Gojo did not only love you, but he understood you. Every part of you—the good and the bad. Your flaws and your strengths. But even your flaws seemed only as intolerable as your weakest, most timid kisses that always left him wanting more. With every breath, he craved you near. And you also understood him, possibly the only person that did. It was a deep and unique, unconditional type of love that he’d been searching for his entire life.

You were always leaving him wanting more. But no, not this time. Neither of you needed convincing. It was perfect. This moment was. And now Gojo finally had you truly and utterly alone. In his apartment, leading you to his bed. It was feverish, so passionate and ardent. A gift from the gods, the ancestors, or whoever was gazing upon the two of you.

All that could be heard were soft whines and moans, zippers sliding open and clothes being torn off. A new sense of urgency settled in your being the second you saw Gojo's soul, and you needed him badly. All of him, everything, and more. There was no need to waste any more time.

Gripping his shirt tightly in your fist, you helped Gojo tug it over his head as you kissed him, only breaking apart momentarily to get rid of the fabric. Even though you’d already seen him bare, the sight of his sculpted muscles always seemed to take your breath away. Your eyes grazed over the perfect knoll of his biceps, his muscular forearms, and the blue veins that subtly contrasted through his snow-white skin.

Despite his power, the way he held you unraveled your entire being. There was no need to classify it as submission; you willingly shared yourself, body, and soul with the strongest sorcerer of the modern day. A man who had done everything to protect you and would continue to do so until the day he took his dying breath.

You were crazed, whimpering into each kiss, desperate for more, yearning for his contact and love.

“Are you sure?” Gojo mumbled against your lips, leaning down over you with care, unable to restrain himself from fondling your still-clothed breasts. He’d made what he wanted clear, and your entire being agreed.

“Please.” You let out a breathy response, his touch on your chest causing you to inhale sharply. “I need you.”

“Promise me you’re not hurt-“ he rushed out into the crook of your neck, trying to resist your desperate advances, even if his were the same, sucking on your neck as if he would never be able to again.

“I promise!” you whined. “You came just in time.”

“You would have been just fine without me.” His breath fanned down your neck, his fingers curling under your shirt, where he slowly beckoned you to raise your arms above your head.

“No,” you whimpered. “You give me strength.”

For a second, Gojo paused with your shirt in his hands, so awestruck by your words. It was as if you knew every part of him, exactly what he needed to hear before he even thought about it. Even though you had seen his soul, a part of him knew you were still holding back.

You also wanted to hear those sweet words of affirmation; you wanted him just as badly as he wanted you, realizing such a blessing within the moment you met but knowing how ludicrous it could be.

With you, Gojo didn't need to be the strongest. He could finally surrender his soul with an equal, knowing you would be there to satisfy his undying craving. You were his blessing and his weakness, able to satiate the hunger inside of him—an oasis in the middle of the desert.

“And you are the woman who owns my heart," he responded mirthfully, tossing your shirt to the floor behind him.

Flustered, you began to pull away, but Gojo chased your lips with his and devoured you once again.

With a hunger that seared your skin, Gojo ravished your neck with fervent kisses, trailing down your collarbone with his tongue and back up to your jawline. “Please let me have you,” he mumbled against the supple skin of your neck, almost causing you to lose all control.

“I-I’m yours…” you whispered, trying to blindly follow his lips until they united with yours. That kiss was the deepest you’d ever felt, so deep that he led you onto your back, snaking his way in between your knees until they instinctively wrapped around his waist.

“Promise?” Gojo faltered even as he slid your panties down your leg, acting as if you still hadn’t given him confirmation, as if you hadn't already been in a position like this for him, so eager and begging. Even looking at your bare legs, a glimpse of your panties, was sending him into a spiral.

For a second, you did wonder if what you were doing was right, if it was too fast or rash, but every fiber of your being absolutely rebelled against it. Your soul craved him—it needed him. Few people on this earth would ever be able to understand the power of soul-binding… but you did. The second you glimpsed his face, you knew. Gojo’s touch ignited a fire within you like no other. Just the action of him undressing you, so teasingly slow, was enough to make you squirm with desire.

“I promise,” you whimpered, teary-eyed, desperate, eager—completely and utterly his. Gojo looked so handsome between your legs, desperate to ravish you, to claim you as his. Almost in a trance, he pressed his finger against your sopping clit. Your yearning for him panged so harshly that it came in a sudden wave from your stomach to your core—etching a gasp from your lips from one touch alone.

“Gonna come for me again like last time?” he whispered before pressing a tender kiss on your inner thigh, his forearms curling around your waist to drag you to the edge of the bed. It seemed like he was in a trance as his blue eyes studied your intimacy, desperate to worship this moment, to worship you and your body, unlike any man before him.

Looking up at you through heavy-lidded, lustful eyes, Gojo’s tongue finally lapped against your slit before you could manage a reply.

A groan of satisfaction vibrated against your core, as Gojo’s white eyelashes fluttered in approval. How desperate he was, how sloppy, but it worked. It worked too well, and you were already coming undone from how gentle he was with your clit, the smooth circles of his tongue edging you closer and closer, opening you up and preparing you for the utmost pleasure.

“Fuckkkk…” Gojo drawled, feeling your clit quiver against his movements. And when he tore his eyes away from it to glimpse your face, he was satisfied. Deep down, he would have been satisfied with a kiss, but both of you needed and deserved this.

How heavenly you were, splayed across his bed for him, just like the way you were in his dreams, when he would spend all night longing for your calming presence, fantasizing until he worked himself into an orgasm.

Gaining some confidence, feeling himself coming undone from just watching you unravel against him, he pushed a finger inside you.

“S-Satoru…” you whimpered, spreading your legs further apart, desperate to see his face and that damned smirk he couldn't get rid of.

“Feel good princess?” he teased in a whisper, inserting another finger, surprised at how eager you were for more. “I wanna hear you sing for me.”

“S-stop teasing me!” you moaned, trying to roll your eyes until they fell into the back of your head. You whimpered for him, because of him, and he felt his cock twitch just from the sight of you, from tasting you again.

You were so expressive and responsive, grasping at his locks and pushing his face flush against you. The looks of an angel with an intoxicating glow that only drew him in farther, deeper. The strongest sorcerer couldn’t help but think he would throw everything away just to worship and have you.

After your first orgasm, you were already seeing stars. Just as Gojo wanted, and he couldn't help but smirk before leaning over you to capture your lips with his, stifling your moans so only he could hear. His name upon your lips, begging for more and all of him.

You were enrapturing, so perfect and pretty. It was all for him, something he could have never predicted or thought he deserved. Yes, he was skilled, and yes, he was the strongest, but you were the only person to ever make him feel alive. When he said he loved you, he meant it.

And you tasted too good, like candy, like heaven. He was going to ravish you.

As you came down from your high, Gojo started to gently play with your clit again until your hand reached out and grasped his wrist. “Please…” you pleaded with wanton eyes. “Need you now.”

For once in his life, Gojo Satoru was unable to resist. You were the only woman that could tell him what to do. And quickly, he listened, shedding his underwear off to obey your command, hovering over you with a careful intensity.

You reached up to cup his jawline, beckoning him down to your lips. When he met your kiss, a moan of anticipation softly graced his ears.

And finally, Gojo allowed himself to nestle his thick cock where it was desperate to go, where it needed to go. He could barely get the tip in, you felt too good. It was better than he could have ever imagined.

“Satoru! Ahhh….” You threw your head back at the sensation, back arching within the same movement, unprepared for how thick and commanding he would be. You closed your eyes momentarily, only feeling, touching, and relishing in him. Your mind was filled with his rapture, his passion, his love.

“S-so big,” you whimpered, arms constricting around his neck, eyes squeezing shut from the intense pressure that filled and stretched you completely.

Gojo sank into you until it was painful, until you were full of his twitching cock.

“I love you, Satoru,” you whimpered.

Euphoria was what you sought and was what was promised in loving Gojo Satoru. That was what you saw when you looked into his eyes, not just at this moment but with every promise for the future.

“Y/N…” he whined with need, trying his best to wait even if it was excruciating. “I love you more.”

You were dripping, making it easy for him to thrust as slowly as he could, waiting for you to adjust, waiting for your command to take it even further. He kissed you over and over again, his breathing strained with desperation. “Feel me baby, wanna make you feel good.”

“M-more…” you begged, not needing to repeat your demand before Gojo ravished you, pulling himself all the way out before slamming back inside you.

“Ah!” you cried out, legs curling around his hips, guiding him to the perfect angle. Exhilarated by your moans, he gradually began to thrust harder, obsessed with how your body trembled, pleading for more, praying for all of him.

The bed began to shake with how violent his pumps became.

"Fuck Y/N, you're taking me so well." Gojo complimented in a strained voice. He was vocally dirty, a far contrast from his usual demeanor and you loved it, yet you couldn't find the time to reply between your cries of ecstasy, becoming increasingly crazed. You could almost sob at how vivifying it felt. All you managed to sound between erratic moans was breathless praise, only wanting to feel him.

“Shit…” Gojo groaned. “Wanted to fuck you so bad, been needing this. I love this, fuck.”

“Feels so good Satoru–” you managed to choke out, your body jolting against him as you gazed into his eyes, pressing your lips against his before another moan escaped you.

“You’re perfect,” he grunted, biting down on his lip to stop another lovesick moan from escaping him.

You were magnificent, and Gojo couldn’t get enough. Having you like this was almost too much, and he was trying to control himself. Your sweet words, and your moans of approval—only riled him up more. And you were just so damn beautiful.

He needed you like this, taking all of him so eagerly, with desperation in your tone, cupping his face to keep him looking at you and how he was entering you, a pussy reserved for him and his offspring.

Thrust after thrust, both of you began to reach a high you’d never felt before. Gojo needed you in every position, on every surface, till the sun peaked above the horizon. Your pussy was like a drug, and there was no possible way he could ever get enough.

Securely wrapping his arms around you, Gojo moved you onto his lap, desperate to have you bounce on his cock. He needed it like he needed air, the notion of you coming undone in his embrace, in his arms.

As you straddled him, Gojo reached up and traced the line of your new scar between your breasts. Just touching it made him shudder, and he felt the power, the spell bound to you. It wasn't just a part of you; it was also a part of him.

His touch made you feel more alive than ever before.

“Please–” he couldn’t finish his question before your hips started to rock against him, cock still buried deep inside you. Your warmth engulfed him, and all he could do was run his hands down your ass before giving it an appreciative squeeze, etching a faint squeal from your mouth.

He helped guide your movements, but you did most of the work, bouncing on top of him as you held his shoulders, letting him suck on your breasts every time he stifled a moan. That was until he couldn’t anymore.

Gojo’s breathless moans warmed the crook of your neck as he continued to pound up into you, utterly pussy drunk. “Fuck, please me mine-“ he whimpered. “Be mine, be my girlfriend-“

You whimpered in response, nails scratching down his back as your abdomen tightened, not only by his words but by his calculated thrusts, wholly focused on pleasing you despite his own desperation for release.

“Girlfriend doesn’t seem like enough, fuck—you’re my wife,” he groaned, nails digging into the plush of your ass. “I love you.” His whines sounded above the slapping of your skin against his. “Your beautiful pussy is just a bonus.”

You tried to respond, almost unable to string a coherent sentence together from how perfectly he filled you up. “S-satoru!” you cried, back arching against nothing but his forearms, feeling yourself falling apart at how eagerly your pussy took his massive length. “G-gonna cum!”

“Can I be yours too?” he moaned, thrusting faster, deeper, harder. His hand reached to grip the headboard as it banged against the wall. “Please let me be yours-“ he begged, panting, his control wavering as he locked eyes with you to glimpse euphoria.

“You are-” you tried your best to respond before your loudest cry yet echoed into the night, and you released yourself upon him, experiencing the most violent, leg-shaking orgasm of your entire life. Your body racked with tremors, and you suddenly became crazed for more, moaning over and over again as you swayed your lips, using his throbbing warm, and eager cock to ride out your orgasm and into another one.

“Want more Satoru, need you to fill me up, please!” Your pleas were like music to his ears. You were so sexy, but that compliment didn’t feel like enough; you were undoubtedly the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid his eyes on, and he was blessed with the opportunity to fuck you like he was. How did he get so lucky?

“Fuck yeah… fuck princess I’m gonna-” he sounded breathless, hips stuttering against you before he let go, pouring a thick load of cum inside of you. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N-” he babbled, twitching inside you so violently you could feel it, unable to pull himself out by how greedy your pussy throbbed, how your legs tightened around his waist and pulled him even closer.

His eyes squeezed shut, trying to control himself and his power, so desperate to experience this high that his hands curled around the headboard’s frame–

Snap!

Splinters of wood rained down beside you. The sound was loud, but you didn’t care; it felt too good, and once the rush rippled throughout your entire body, you finally tore your gaze away from Gojo’s to glimpse your surroundings.

He had crushed the headboard in a single-handed grip. Still panting, you laughed through your exhales. Gojo flashed a tired, sheepish smile in return, leaning his head back to rest against the cracked wood. Closing his eyes, he calmed his beating heart, cock still warming inside you. His throat bobbed as he attempted to steady his breathing and think of something to say.

The next minute was spent staring at him with heavy eyes as you caught your breath, reveling in what had unfolded—what you’d been yearning for since you met him.

And the white-haired sorcerer had vastly exceeded your expectations. Just having him panting underneath you was enough to turn you on all over again. You shifted slightly, beginning to pull yourself off him but realizing he was still rock hard.

Your gasp caused him to lazily open his eyes, his lips parting to release a whimper at how plush your pussy felt in this sensitive state, how it was drawing him back in.

Suddenly, it felt like he would die if you left him like this. If you took your warmness away. You were addicting, and Gojo only asked for more of your love. He still had so much more to give in return to prove himself worthy.

As he stared up at your flustered expression, he couldn’t help but flash a lopsided grin. How beautiful you were in all of your unfiltered glory.

“Pretty girl…” he whispered with admiration, his hands sliding from your thighs to your ass, hinting how he wanted to take control if you'd let him. “I’m not done yet,” Gojo tried to say confidently, though it came out more desperate and needy.

“Satoru…” you whimpered as he began to rock incredibly slowly into your fluttering pussy, guiding you up and down with his large hands, letting you feel the entirety of him all over again. So deep inside you, kissing all of the right spots without effort. “But… But you broke the headboard…”

“I’ll fix it later,” he chuckled in a strained voice as you matched his rhythm. “J-just feel me princess.” he murmured against your skin.

Nodding furiously, you reached out and brought Gojo’s face between your breasts, holding onto him as his pace quickened. “Anything for you, my love~” you whimpered into his ear, arms circling around his head.

It drove him crazy. This was perfect, you were perfect, and Gojo realized then and there that he would do anything for you.

That night, Gojo Satoru ravished you four separate times. Up until the early morning, when he physically couldn't orgasm again, when he was drenched in sweat and beginning to feel cramps in his thighs. His room was a mess, his bed frame and headboard broken. You, in turn, had remnants of makeup smudged on your cheeks, and baby hairs sticking to your damp forehead. Your legs were shaking, so sore and fucked out completely that Gojo thought it would be best to carry you to the bathroom. Dark hickeys littered your neck and chest, and you knew covering up the next day would be a pain. But you were happy. Your heart was whole.

After cleaning you up, Gojo took your hand and led you onto his private balcony.

It was just before sunrise, as you and Gojo cuddled against each other on the surprisingly spacious sofa. The stars were so beautiful in the middle of the night. The temperature was perfect, and the crickets sang a harmonious mating call in the distance, gathering at the edge of the ponds sheltered among the foliage lines.

It was ironic that you had promised never to sleep on the couch with him again, yet there you were beside him, tucked under a blanket and nuzzling his neck for the comfort of his cologne.

Content with the proximity, Gojo tilted his head and kissed your forehead, his eyes glancing between you and the clear night sky. Despite the stress, responsibilities, and chaos that had occurred that day, he felt blessed to share this moment with you.

The same appreciativeness settled within your own soul. Deep in your heart, a part of you knew this was Mother Nature herself smiling down upon you. It was a gift, a glimpse of the better part of your future. Nothing else mattered right now, only him and his comfort.

“I’m going to be so tired tomorrow,” you complained absentmindedly, already drifting off to sleep from the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“It’s a good thing we have the day off tomorrow then,” Gojo chuckled softly.

Surprised, you lifted your head off his chest. “Really?”

“You earned it.”

Satisfied with the simplistic answer, you hummed in approval before curling back into him. Gently, he ran his fingers through your hair until your breathing became light and sparse, and your body was utterly relaxed against his own.

A smile spread across his face as Gojo watched you sleep in the darkness. Since you’d graced him with your presence, his smiles seemed never-ending. For you, there would always be one. For you, he would remain the strongest. No matter what it took. Whatever you wanted, he would provide.

Finally, there was something for him to live for, not for everyone else, not for the sake of the world and its balance. But selfishly and irrevocably his.

The pressure of outside forces seemed lighter by your side. Everything seemed possible as long as you were the one standing beside him. The promise of you and your love was what kept him sane through it all. He was no longer alone. You were his answer and his purpose.

The brightness of a future with you was so close—he’d seen it in your eyes and in the lines of your prophecy.

All Gojo needed to do was solve it, trust you, and guide you through its unfairness.

And then, possibly, what the two of you yearned for would become a reality.

[akashirl]

valentine's post !! ♡

from the moment i saw you, i knew i'd be destined to a life full of love -- forever. from the moment my eyes met yours, your first pass, our first game together...it was magical. i was a kid, that much is true, and you can argue saying that children can't comprehend the depth of love. i'm not sure i did at the time, but the heaviness in my chest was never taken lightly.

captain, you have touched me with such profoundness than i ever thought you could. we've been through hell together, you were there for me at my lowest even though i was too consumed to see it, you have always been there. your presence never became an absence in my eyes.

i know that we're destined to be apart due to the events life has prepared for us, but i do not mind. just being with you right now is enough to light up my heavy soul. you may not be real. i may not be real. life might be a simulation and yet, you're the realest feeling, the softest touch, the sun behind the clouds.

you may feel unworthy of affection due to how your past has treated you. you may not even understand why; hell, sei, questioning it may not be enough for you but just know that i love you for who you are. i love you for the person i become when you're near. i love you, i have loved you and i will love you until the end of time. the red string attached to our hearts is conceived from iron.

i adore every single detail of yours. when i catch you looking at me, your light smile, your breathtaking eyes, your soft but firm touch...from your hair to your toes, what is there not to love? and how could i not adore you? the way you keep me in line when i'm not at my best. the way you take care of me when i'm at my worst. you push me to do better, motivate me everyday...more than just a lover, you're a role model to me. i look up to you more than anything in this world.

i have loved you more, but so much more than i have found a way to tell you. and even though i like to believe that you were the one who found me, i know that the truth is that we found eachother. be it in our moments of weakness, happiness, loneliness...my care for you is eternal. my heart is at your service.

a person is like a canvas. mine was completely blank until we met. every moment with you is a brushstroke -- and even when you think the painting is complete, it keeps evolving. with every sunrise, i feel myself lost in your crimson eyes, brighter than the sun, deeper than the moon. i wouldn't trade the goosebumps i get for anything in the world.

well, being with you feels like winning the lottery every single day. not that money could ever compare to the happiness you bring to me, but it may be easier to understand if i put it that way. quoting edward cullen (cringe, i know), « you're like my own personal brand of heroin ». i've grown completely addicted to you, to your eyes, to your lips, to your smile, to your gentle mannerism and your way of getting things done. it's not our fault that life has other events in store for us. we may not even talk in a few decades, as you'll carve a path of success ahead of you and i seem like an unlikely ingredient to the mix. i just hope that in the future, even when you have a wife and kids, you think of how happy we were in high school. i hope you think a little bit of me everyday; and i pray it doesn't destroy you. just know that wherever you are, i will be thinking of you. and whenever you need me, i will be no further than a single call away.

seijuro akashi, you are my own true love. even before we met, my heart missed you. looking into your eyes is reflecting my happiness...our story doesn't have to be perfect -- it doesn't need a happy ending. what matters is that you're here, now, and so am i; and what we feel is pure and true. sometimes, i feel as if i started loving you even before existing...perhaps we came from the same shooting star.

« you are my true north. the pull of my heart's compass always points to you. » and i will keep following you, as your shadow, wherever you go. i know that under that thick façade, you're yearning for love just as much as i am. and trust me, i will make you feel it every single day by your side.

and if we can't be together in this life, i will wait for our next one. and the one next. all the lives ahead of me, i will be looking for my favorite redhead. i see your smile in houses, trees, people, books...everywhere i go, i am intoxicated by your tenderness. isn't it beautiful how a single person can change your whole entire life? or rather, give that monotone life the color it needed?

sei, you are my person. you will always be my person. being your valentine is an honor i am delighted to have. just let me love you, alright?

i know i said i only had two drawings ready but turns out i had three. oh well.

🏀 | my henchmen: @pigeonbksimp @pinkreveluv6 @ilovemaiubo @japeneselunchtimerush @sweijuro @fl0ralsxgar

event by @strawbeaniie !!

happy valentine's day to all!!

[rebelssvy]

the head knight ✧.*

fantasy! kirishima x reader

*ೃ༄

summary: smuttyyyy kiri is an EATER. you work in a pleasure house and he comes to steal you away at one condition. he HAS to make you feel good.

this is my first take on the whole fantasy world. so far i have soooo many ideas. can’t wait to write more :))

you were nothing but a mere whore used up by random knights of passers by. the magic in your heart was drained and nothing could light the flame that was dim within you. war and war again took everyone you loved, the struggle for money left you with little options. you needed to live.

selling your soul to the whore house was the clear option. men loved you, no reason not to get paid for your actions. the ways they loved you though, it wasn’t love. you were used. time after time they would use your body and leave without second thought. it’s not that it bothered you, but you knew the feeling of love was fleeting from your body.

until he came along. one of the best knights your lonely kingdom has seen in years. wielding nothing but a sword he was known for killing with his hands. the sword was more of a accessory. his hair was on the longer side and scars were prominent along his body.

you treated him just like any other client. this was your job.

sporting a long lacey lingerie that resembled more to a dress. you lay in the bed plush with feather pillows. waiting for your soul to be taken apart yet again.

without a knock at the door a man the size of the frame walked through. you had seen in of course, on the day you spent away from the pleasure house. he stuck out among the crowed. no matter how tall you are, he towered above you.

he stumbled when he played his eyes upon you. a slight stagger on his feet that you noticed, you took it as soreness from his battles.

before you could say anything, his voice picked up just a whisper. “what’s your name..?” his deep voice was hushed.

“y/n. but you can call me anything you want here. my name is yours.” you said crawling to the foot of the bed.

he moved closer to you, standing above you almost inbetween your parted legs. “y/n…” he repeated. “that’s a beautiful name.” the slight blush on his face made you smile. he was sweeter than most.

“can i ask you your name?” you said looking up at him. you were certain you were truly stunning right now.

“kirishima ejjirou. call me eijirou, head knight of the academia.��� he said bringing a hand up to your face. his calloused fingers were rough and they touched your push skin.

“well, ‘head knight of the academia’..,” you joked before finishing your reply. “i’m yours for as long as you want me, eijirou.”

you could here is breath stop for just a second. almost a gasp. you swear you also heard him praise the Gods before leaning down and pressing his lips to yours.

it wasn’t like the kisses you normally receive, it was loving, lacking of lust.

“if i make you feel good, genuinely in our moments together, be truthful, because i would spend the rest of my life with you.” he said after parting lips. you gasped at his words.

“you don’t know me, eijirou. you don’t want a life with me.” you said hushed, your body felt hot and tears pricked at your eyes. your whole nervous system felt like it had flipped on its head. “i am a lowly girl from a pleasure house. know that.” you said looking away from him.

he used his hand to tilt your face back to his, you had to look at him.

“you are the prettiest person i’ve ever seen. please y/n, i’ll beg even. please. i would fight a million wars for you if it meant i could come home to your face.” he had now dropped to his knees, his face lied on your thighs. “let me get to know you.”

instead of giving him a verbal answer, you moved slowly, picking up his head and gently standing him up. you both came to your feet. you moved his body onto the bed, his head resting on the pillows. stripping him of his clothing. he was truly huge.

“you want to please me? show me you can. and after wards you can make your choice on wanting to wife me or not.” you stood firm, deciding you shall give him your body. the catch was it was going to almost impossible for him to wife you, because you weren’t going to be pleased by him today. no whatever he did wasn’t going to be enough. could he please you? you didn’t think so.

“y/n. i will make you my wife.” the words sent shudders down your spine. why is he so perseverant to this?

before you knew it you were flipped on your back. the plush mattress hitting your skin. his lips were back on yours in no time. but this time there was somthing different about them. there was a passion, a certain type of yearning that could only be expressed through action. his wet tongue worked its way into your mouth. fighting dominance with yours.

his head worked its way down your neck, leaving hot open mouthed kisses on your skin. nipping and kissing you, like he was about to eat you whole. he kept kissing until he was right about your core. now suddenly away of how wet you were, you moved your legs together to set water on your fire. you couldn’t let him please you. he didn’t want to live with you, he was blinded by lust.

his head parted from your body slightly, his eyes boring up at you. just for a second. before his hands works fast and strong. parting your legs, right infront of his face. you could feel his warm breath on your core.

“so fucking wet..” he breathed. it was harsh and fast, his face pressed into your core. it was still clothed and yet the pleasure was overwhelming. taking sloppy breaths into your cunt he smelled everything. he was feeding off you. he parted slowly, almost like he was struggling to get away from your sent. “may i?” he said softly, looking at the undergarments. you shook your head yes.

once you were fully unclothed, the two of you stood on your knees on the bed. he kissed you hard, bringing his hands up to body.

“sit on my face.” he demanded, not in a mean way. but in a way that he craved you so badly he might die without you.

his head hit the bed and his body lay flat, sprawled out. his hands found your thighs guiding them to his body. “cmere…” he moaned, your body was above his now, almost cunt flat on his face. you slowly lowered your body over his, hesitating slightly. “fuckkk come on y/n, please” he begged. and so you did, you sat down on his face. his handsome face that was now lapping your slick up beneath you. your back arched and you moaned out.

at the sounds coming out of your mouth, the knights hips buckled up, jerking at the sound. his tongue licked and lapped your juices. he groaned into you. the vibration making your upper half buckle forward. falling down hands now resting on his thighs. you were now face to face with the biggest cock you had ever seen. and god, it was beautiful. his tip was red, looking like it needed to be touched.

you couldn’t help yourself, you picked his cock up. taking it into your hands. you gave him a good tug. gathering the spit in your mouth and drooling it over his member.

the noise he made from inbetween your legs was inhuman. he moaned loud, and his hands clamped down on your thighs. pushing your cunt farther on his face.

“god! ah-eiji-ah!!” you screamed out. the pleasure was too much. it was too good. he was about to win a war he didn’t know he was fighting.

you tried to get off him, but he was too strong. his head moved with your spasms. every time your body jerked he moved with you. there was no running away from him.

“i’m-i’m gonna cum! ah-!” your body racked as you orgasmed. your cunt rubbed back and fourth on his face. you could feel his tongue lay flat on you, your folds being spread apart by his mouth. he didn’t stop eating you out, infact, you felt his hands move. his fingers prodded at your entrance. the pleasure couldn’t get better, until his fat fingers started pumping in and out of you and a relentless pace. his mouth suctioned its way onto your clit. you saw stars. every sound in the world wiped away at your pleasure.

your body trembled. there was more to your orgasm. somthing new. you spasmed on his face, his hands working in and out of your body. a clear liquid sprayed on his face. you watched him, open his mouth and take everything you squirted out into his mouth. even when you were rang dry, he kissed and kissed your soaked folds.

you fel onto your back aside him now. the most tired you had ever felt. you knew your couldn’t give him more because he had just taken everything from you.

he turned on his side facing you now. “you liked that? because fuck. if i could come home to that every night i would die a happy man.”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

nghhhhhh ya ok

[artforsimps]

I’d try to have one on one days with the kids to help them readjust to the real world and I can just imagine bringing the kids to the movie theatre and Doey is laughing his ass off in a trench coat like “yes one single adult ticket to sonic please and pop corn and a slushy that I can fill up with every flavor.” And I’d just hold up my phone with the correct number of tickets I bought online and the attendant would be confused for a minute and just play along getting the snacks and whatnot.

I’d take catnap to the library to pick out books for bedtime since he wants to help them sleep the safe way now. (Doey asked for word wizards and trust, I will buy a few copies just to have a backup. Sesame Street is already on a dvd box set)

For crafty corn it’s obvious, craft store.

For little kissy missy I’d take her to a fabric store to pick out patterns for pajamas and fabric that wouldn’t be uncomfortable.

Hoppy hopscotch and kickin chicken are going to the sporting goods store.

Dogday’s gonna pick out board games the kids might like for winding down, and would absolutely get a ring toss game since you can play that sitting down. (Kickin and hoppy tricked out his wheel chair with stuff from their day)

Id totally take pickypiggy to jungle Jim’s, cause I can do whatever I want, and let them run around the store filling the cart with whatever they’d like (after going so long not knowing where their next meal would come from) and get back home to see that this is just gonna have to be tradition for one on one days because all the kids thought of each other and got something they’d think the others would like.

For birthdays I’d want to rent out a trampoline park but I think that’d be overwhelming so instead I’d take them to a normal park where it’s more quiet and open. Less association with the last indoor playground.

I’m not bringing the kids to a toy store at least one of them is gonna wonder if the toys have souls and is gonna have a panic attack.

Once poppy recovers enough and has been writing letters to the kids for a while I’d start checking in on her in person rather than over the phone. I’d take her to an antique store on a week day so she could get compliments from little old couples. (Call me crazy but as an almost teenage girl stuck in an unassuming vessel, She has potential to be a good pickpocket but only for candy, Speaking from experience. She doesn’t touch money it feels gross. Candy is immediate payoff and she can bribe people into friendship faster with it). We find some old school assistive devices like in those old videos that help the smaller bodies get a bit more mobility.

When Yarnaby is out of the hospital it feels weird not having hair all over but they start knitting and find it very relaxing since it’s a repetitive but calming action. He’s not really too worried about the sharp metal sticks they’re holding but they save it for when they’re in their room and the others are busy. They need some alone time to themselves to decompress. If they need to calm down fast the have a Squishy crochet hook. The handles a ring they can chew on too.(i myself could use this to avoid gritting my teeth so much honestly)

[figureskatingpenguin]

Shin Jia (KOR): Liebesträume No. 3 | 2025 South Korean Nationals, FS

debuting a new program in south korean nationals, shin jia gracefully enters the senior podium for the third consecutive year, placing silver in the competition🥈

[caeca-iustitia]

Vincent has endured a great deal since being shot.

Firstly the near-fatal blow alone was agonising. They were drowning in their own blood, unable to speak or even comprehend what was going on. There was nothing they could say or do to stop Hojo.

Then, there were the experiments—hours, days, of tortuous procedures that never really went anywhere. Their body was cut open, pieces were removed and rearranged ad nauseam to see how their body struggled for what little life it had left in it. They could feel their organs in the wrong places, ribs were missing and they were almost certain that they would die on that cold operating table underneath Hojo’s scalpel. 

In a way, a cruel way really, they did. They fought back death for so long yet eventually, she came for them; sweeping them away into her waiting arms. Seemingly overnight, they rapidly deteriorated until nothing remained of them come morning. Unfortunately, Hojo wasn’t done inflicting cruelties upon this young person who had once had their whole life ahead of them which was snatched away cruelly by his inhumane experiments. 

He forced them into a state beyond death. A state of living death that saw them conscious but unable to move or speak. They were only able to stare lifelessly at the ceiling as the scientist continued his evil machinations on their numb husk of a body. He melded their body with fathomlessly dangerous creatures that warred beneath their flesh and tore at their insides like the rabid beasts they were.

Still, Vincent could not move or speak. They endured this unending agony, this torturous process, all for the sake of hoping against hope that they may be able to reach Sephiroth in time to keep him safe. They lost track of how long they were there but all they remember is that the last time they saw the sun was endless hours ago and would be many decades until they saw it again.

After so long, finally, they were no longer of use to Hojo and abandoned to rot in their slice of Hell that the scientist had spent forever cultivating beneath their deathly pale flesh. Yet- even after all of this- they were not free of the experiments and the cruel actions. No, what came next was somehow worse than anything they had yet endured.

Lucrecia, the woman they had lost their very life to protect, decided that their suffering was not yet done. Whilst her actions may not have had cruel intent, she had doomed them to eternal agony due to her not wishing to see them lying so lifeless and numb. She gifted onto them an entity crueller than anything else in their body. 

This creature, this despicable creature, was named Chaos. 

Lucrecia wouldn’t understand for a great many years that she had- in fact- doomed them to a fate worse than the one they had. At least when they could feel nothing, they could dream of nothing and let the monsters war beneath their skin without consequence. Yet, now that she’d given them something that wrested even more control from them, they had no more defence against the agony that their broken soul was in.

Chaos revelled in the pain of its new host. It sought freedom and was ready to destroy Vincent, Lucrecia and everything in its path to achieve its goal. Of course, given that Chaos escaping was not a part of her calculations, Lucrecia had to put a stop to this. She implanted a materia in their chest which allowed Vincent to regain their own functions.

They were in unbearable pain. Every nerve was on fire and their flesh felt as if it were being flayed from their very bones. Vincent could not move for the excruciating tremors that wracked their body prevented more than simple breathing. For weeks, their screams of agony flooded the manor and sent icy chills down the spines of any who heard it. 

Until, of course, Hojo could no longer stand the sound and grew tired of Lucrecia’s reluctance to kill them.

Vincent’s pain came to a swift, bloody end when Hojo planted a bullet in their temple and several more into their torso to ensure they were silent. Lucrecia returned to the lab only to find Vincent laying still, silent and covered in blood in the same place they’d always been. Of course, she knew they weren’t dead but they were too quiet and she hated the silence more than the screaming. 

In the end, she tended to their new wounds and dressed them in something of their fathers before laying them to rest beneath the manor in the crypt that the scientists had used for various experiments with Mako beforehand. She shut the key in a safe upstairs and left hints to the combination around the manor in the hope that someone would one day find the key and wake Vincent. 

All Vincent can remember is waking up in a coffin, disoriented and confused, before the inky black abyss claimed their consciousness once again. All the while, they wholeheartedly believed it was their fault that they were in this position.

Thus began their attempts to atone for sins that were not their own to bear.

[kashverse]

things people should know:

do not mess with your cat.

do not mess with your sukuna.

you thought this was common sense. apparently, it wasn’t.

it started when you left sukuna in the waiting area of the vet clinic, because you needed to pick up some medication for your cat—bless his furry little soul, the bravest warrior you know, who had just survived a vet visit with minimal casualties. sukuna, being the grumpy menace he is, had grumbled about waiting but ultimately sat down with your cat carrier beside him, arms crossed, looking like a bouncer for a very exclusive club. and that’s when they appeared.

the poodle posse.

a group of women with perfectly manicured nails, dressed like they were about to star in a reality tv show called luxury lives of lapdog owners. their poodles were equally pampered—fluffy, primped, wearing tiny designer jackets that probably cost more than your rent. you weren’t there to witness it, but based on sukuna’s expression when you came back, things had escalated.

“oh, wow, such a strong, brooding man,” one of them had probably purred, leaning into sukuna’s personal space. “is this your cat? he’s so cute!”

bad move.

your cat is not "cute"—your cat is a warrior. a veteran of the battlefield (otherwise known as your apartment). he has fought many enemies (the vacuum, a particularly aggressive curtain, and one unfortunate houseplant that did not survive). and most importantly, he is loyal to you. so, when a stranger’s hand reached out to pet him?

he hissed. and not just any hiss—this was a legendary hiss. a hiss that spoke of betrayal, of fury, of how dare you touch me, peasant. and sukuna? sukuna looked at them like they were the scum of the earth.

"ya deaf?" he had grunted, because subtlety has never been his strong suit. "he doesn’t like strangers."

but did that stop them? oh no. if anything, it made them more interested.

“aww, he’s just shy! maybe he just needs to warm up to us!”

and that’s when your cat, your beautiful, petty little creature, smacked their poodle in the face.

gasp. horror. scandal.

the poodle recoiled like it had just been personally insulted. its owner gasped, clutching her dog like a victorian maiden about to faint. "your cat just hit my precious baby!" she shrieked.

sukuna? sukuna had the audacity to laugh. “good. he had it coming.”

the poodle posse was outraged. they tried to guilt-trip sukuna, fluttering their lashes, attempting to appeal to his (nonexistent) softer side.

“you know, a guy like you shouldn’t be wasting time with a cat person. dog lovers are way more fun.”

mistake.

because that’s when sukuna turned to them, his usual mean grin stretching across his face, and said, “you think i like cats? nah. i like my girl. the cat’s just part of the package.”

devastation. utter defeat.

when you finally came back, you were greeted with the sight of the poodle posse storming out, their spoiled dogs in tow, throwing death glares at sukuna—who looked smug as hell. you raised a brow at him. "what did you do?"

"nothin'," he said, draping an arm over your shoulders. "your little monster defended his honor. i just enjoyed the show." meanwhile, your cat, still sitting in his carrier like a king on his throne, looked very pleased with himself.

moral of the story?

don’t mess with your cat. don’t mess with your sukuna. and definitely don’t mess with both at the same time.

[whereisthedamndaddymanual]

I might be the one pretending to be insane.

Actually I am sanely showing that true brilliance IS insane.

Excuse me. My story about the restaurant is true and it's gonna fuck with her how I said it with such conviction.

That's fucking easy. It's the dead ass truth that's why.

Now I have hunted to her plenty to examine things but she is subconsciously avoiding it.

[inkskinned]

you know, you know. no gods, no masters, no kings on pedestals. everyone is fallible. death of the author. you know! you are balanced about your intake of media - you allow the wiggle room, the grace, the gratitude, the skepticism. nobody above criticism.

but still. a weird gut-punch feeling, something akin to betrayal. you read the article. surprise! an author you love is actually: a serial fucking predator.

well, shit. what now. no, you knew he was a person (all people are), but now you're wondering - what have i overlooked by accident? what messages have i internalized that are strange and cruel? and also, like, what the fuck?

his actions lay a thick glaze on top of everything. like each place is now ruined, opaque in a new way. but okay, fine, you've done this before. you knew better, right? you've been betrayed by many a cherished childhood author.

still, this stickiness. fuck. can you pick up that book again. will you read it to your children. you've recommended it to others - will you ever do that again? and of course, of course, no parasocial relationships. you were theoretically above this kind of sentiment. but the artist informs the art, right.

so it's not something as clear-cut as feeling he owed you, specifically (a stranger) better behavior - just that you kind of, in a distant and odd way... sort of trusted him to do better. it's not like a real trust or something speakable, just the faint hope that the product (good books) was a thin representation of the soul. now it feels like the product (good? books?) was a mask. in some small or insignificant way, your previous support of this person lent them power. your money and your time and your laughter.

and the thing is - you have this terrible, echoing sensation. how many times will this happen? over and over. you find out that the singer you love is actually a predator. you learn over drinks that your favorite high school english teacher is in jail for what he did to her. you listen to the news idly and suddenly discover that a woman you used to idolize has been abusing her kids for an actual eon.

what can you touch without the static melting off. you can't even really complain about it too much (you were supposed to know better, and besides, you don't want the same re-split "it's not your fault, love what you love" basic advice), but now it's here. somehow, it feels like - you let him into your life.

it's not that things need to be pure or an artist has to be like, endlessly perfect, mindful. demure. it's more just this terrible truth that has been replayed through your veins so often it feels criminally vain. power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely. did you want any one person to be worth that power?

it's just that he wrote books where he seemed to understand that. he seemed to know about hierarchies and unfair systems and bigotry and privilege. you thought they were books about what it means to struggle. you thought they were about having power and still using it for good rather than for control. he spooned you a narrative of being a good guy, a kind soul. you fucking bought what that fucking monster sold.

maybe that's why they were fantasies, after all.

[etfrin]

⤷❝Mine To Love | Coriolanus Snow❞ˎˊ-

⇢☾Warning: NSFW | Snow is his own warning, mentions of killing, mentions of caging/locking you up (doesn't do it though), hair pulling, breath play if you squint, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), pinv sex, blowjob, male masterbation, cunnilingus, mating press, mentions of Lucy Gray, no spoilers | lmk if I forgot anything!

⇢☾Pairing: young president Snow x fem! Reader

⇢☾Summary: Snow realizing his feelings for you, being fucked up about it and fucks you!

⇢☾A/N: don't romanticize, it's dark romance so y'all are warned! This is set in the same au as The Study (you don't have to read it beforehand but it's recommended)

< masterlist > < bc: @cafekitsune > <tag list>

It started slowly, so slow that Snow didn't even realize it. It started with that night in the study after he had you. He didn't touch you again, denying himself of you. You, his wife, a little bird stuck in a cage. The First Lady of Panem was nothing but a doll, a showcase piece for the country.

You played the role well enough, but you weren't a doll at all. You brought life in what was otherwise a stone-cold mannor. The workers cook your favorite, making sure you're the most well-accommodated. Like a Queen. How their shoulders relax and the smile that springs up when they do the tasks that you assigned them. You earned their respect and their loyalty.

You were dangerous yet harmless. It baffled Coriolanus to no end. It started slow. He coincidentally met you in the hallways more and more. After that night, you couldn't make eye contact with him, no longer did you greet him with an awkward hello or a shy smile.

You look down at the floor whenever he passes you by, your body flushing from the mere second of proximity. So obvious and adorable. He loved how easy you were to read, how open you were. Whatever your lips hide, your eyes show. Whatever your soul hides, your body shows.

It started slow. The monthly dinners with the First Lady turned weekly. Every Sunday now he had you sit across him for dinner and he would ask you about your day. Just to be polite, mind you, don't look into it. He would be annoyed by those one-word answers but would never show it. His fingers subtly grasped the glass of wine tighter than he should, his heart pricking his brain into paranoia. ‘What else?’ he wanted to ask, ‘Stop saying it was good. Tell me what made it good.’

Instead of uttering those words, cameras were placed on every inch of the manner with the audio functions so everything is recorded for his and only his view. He watched you walking through the library, your fingertips touching the spines of the books you already read (which was most of them), you didn't even realize new books were added to the collection, all similar to the ones you liked. He watched you stroll the gardens, your face in a frown at the neverending white roses. A red rose and several other flowers were added the next day.

It started slow. He began to talk about his day more and more trying to fill a silence. He started asking for your opinion and oh, how that lighted your eyes up that you were finally doing what you were meant to do. Supporting him not as a doll but as a wife. You begin to talk about your days more, trusting him with your day-to-day activities. You tell him about friends and family, something he wasn't interested in (he has files on every single person you mentioned).

The nights that were dedicated to his needed sleep turned into the witching hours in which he would stroke his cock over the memory of you. His mouth biting into the pillow to stop his groans, hearing them would mean admitting his need for you and he rejected that notion. His cock was oversensitive because he couldn't stop. He couldn't stop fucking into his fist, again and again thinking about you. Not just your pussy but you. Your desperate moans, your lips marking his neck, your slick walls, and everything of you. Your tears, your head on his chest when he had fucked you. Everything.

He wanted to pin you against a wall. He wanted to bend over during dinner. He wanted you on his lap in his study. He wanted to push you to the bed and fuck you until the bed breaks. He wanted you!

The realization made him spill onto his bed sheets for the nth time. A gasp escaped his lips as he realized how deeply you are rooted in him now. He needed to kill you. He can't afford this again. Whatever this is. Obsession? Love? Was there ever a difference? He needed this to end.

‘You don't deserve to be loved,’ he thinks, you were no Lucy Gray after all, you were different. You could never compare to his first and only (not anymore) love. But he had caged you, he had you and knew your every move. The rumors that spread of cheating were seized along with the man who flirted with you. True to your words, you hadn't fallen to the temptations of the Capitol, rejecting their offers politely rather than basking in their attention like before.

‘Good,’ he thought, he had killed everyone who had touched you and it was hard to hide the evidence. “I am so much better than her,” he muttered, “I could do so much better.” He asked himself, ‘Why? After all the promises I made to myself of never repeating the mistake.’

He didn't get a reply but he dreamt of you.

Breakfast had passed, lunch too, he hadn't seen you once today. A quick peek at his monitors showed that you were sleeping in your room. He clenched his jaw, a part of him hating you for sleeping in because it deprived him of seeing you. A part of his heart warmed because your hair was a mess, the shirt you were wearing while sleeping was his, and you looked so darn pretty.

Coriolanus convinced himself that he was going to your room to wake you up. Nobody should sleep this late into the day. It wasn't healthy, and he needed the First Lady to remain healthy. That was all.

He stepped into the room, his footsteps quiet so he didn't alert you. He sits down on the bed, your sleeping figure beside him. Your mouth had dried drool on the corners which made him disgusted but amusement all the same. His hand went to your cheek, he couldn't control the action of his thumb stroking your cheek.

“I should lock you up forever,” he whispered as softly as possible, almost inaudible. “In this room, so no one can see you but me.”

He knew by now his thoughts weren't normal and it would never be. That's him and he had accepted himself. He leaned in closer, his lips inches away from yours. He stopped right before he closed the gap. He takes a deep breath, taking in your scent before pulling back.

His hand goes to your shoulder, he shakes you. “Wake up, bird,” he said, his eyes softening when he saw you wake up and peer at him with confused eyes. You yawn, and sit up, your eyes wide when you look at him. You rub them with your hand and blink.

“Is there anything wrong, Coryo?” You asked softly, “Anything I can do to help.” “You should shower and eat first,” he said instead, “and next time don't sleep in. I don't like indiscipline.”

“Sorry,” you mutter, “I was finishing a book.” Your eyes flicker to him, “It's nice by the way! I will tell you about it during dinner.” He wanted to hear about it now, he wanted to pull you closer and kiss your lips, he wanted to push you into the mattress and breed you. He wanted to clean you up after and feed you every kind of feed.

He clenched his jaw, trying to get rid of such thoughts. “We'll see,” he said before walking out of the room, accidentally slamming the door. The first sign of Snow losing control.

The second sign of Coriolanus losing control was how his breath hitched when he saw you during dinner. You are wearing yet another one of his shirts (how do you even get your hands on them) and that's it. A white shirt that reached your knees, you had forgone pants and opted for shorts that couldn't even be seen. Your legs were in complete view, the same legs he wanted wrapped around his waist.

He didn't say a single comment even when it was clear you were waiting for one. ‘Were you trying to seduce him?’ he thinks, ‘Or something else.’ He felt paranoid about you wearing his shirt. Did you want him? Want him to bend you over, press your face onto the table and fuck you like you were an animal?

He felt his pants getting tighter from his thoughts, flashes of what he could do to you, what he had done to you. He couldn't focus as you talked during dinner, he made a mental note to watch the cameras later to know the words you had blessed him with.

It hits him like a wave when dinner ends and you come to him with a book. Tabs were spilling out and it was a hardcover of an old classic that he had to read during the academy.

“You once told me that you liked this book, I spent last night annotating it! I did a few finishing touches before dinner…”

That explains your attire, you were busy formatting this gift for him. He took the book from your hand, he wanted to throw it across the room, he wanted to set it on fire. It was now his most precious treasure, more important than Panem itself.

The truth he denied washes over him. Making him take a sharp breath and your eyebrows etch together in concern. He had once a girl dedicate songs for him, now he had a wife dedicating booms for him. ‘It would be a mistake,’ he told himself, ‘It won't be a mistake if I don't repeat the past.’

The desires he shoved at the back of his mind sprang forward and he made a decision. The third sign of Coriolanus surrendering to himself was that he had everyone including the guards leave the dining room. Making your eyes widen from the sudden instruction.

“Is there anything wrong-” you begin to ask before Snow interrupts you. “Here is what's going to happen now. You're gonna be on your knees, you'll take my cock in your mouth and you'll make me cum. Then I will take you to our room and I'll fuck you until you can't remember your name.”

You blink once, twice just staring into his eyes that revealed nothing before you went closer to him and got down on your knees for him. “Like this?” You asked, breathless, your cheeks flushed. He smirked, “Exactly like this, pet.”

“Now part those pretty lips for me,” he said as he unzipped his pants and set his hard cock free. He lets out a chuckle as he sees you eyeing his cock like a long-lost lover. Guess he wasn't the only one thinking about that time.

You part your mouth wide enough for him as he pushes his cock in slowly. No matter how desperate he was a gentleman for his wife. He knew better than to gag you. He stopped when his cock had completely disappeared, his length engulfed into your wet, hot mouth.

He throws back his head as his dick hits the back of your throat. He relishes the sound of your choking around his length. He lets out his groan, trying his hardest not to cum down your throat so soon. His hand is in your hair, keeping you in place like an obedient pet.

You try your best to take in a deep breath as your tongue swirls around his length as much as possible. You weren't the best at blowjobs, but you knew the sloppier the better. Saliva ran down your cheek as you tried your best to focus on his cock underside, your tongue dragging itself across a pulsing vein that reached his cockhead.

You moan around his length as the taste of pre-cum bursts in your mouth. You close your eyes and try your best, bopping your head up and down. You clenched your fist, trying your best not to gag when his cock gets deeper into your throat.

Meanwhile, Snow was a wreck of a man, the heat of your mouth ruining his capability of having coherent thoughts. You were sucking his soul through his dick it seemed to him. His fingers tangled in your locks, gripping your hair tighter as a way to anchor himself to reality.

His blue eyes dilated to almost black as he looks at you taking his cock so well. Like you were made for it. Made for his cock. Made for him. Meant to be his wife, his bird, his pet, and his love. It's destiny, he decided as he pulls you off his cock and uses his suit sleeves to wipe your mouth and chin.

‘Everything leads to this,’ he thought, as he pulled you onto his lap and pressed a kiss to your lips. The saltiness of his taste in your mouth does not deter his tongue from tasting you.

“Go to my- our room,” he whispered to you as he broke the kiss. “I'll be there soon,” he promises as he nuzzles into your neck, his lips kissing your skin. You nod and get off his lap. Your feet drag you into his room.

Meanwhile, Coriolanus takes a deep breath, trying to maintain whatever pathetic excuse of sanity he had held. It didn't work. His cock was hard enough to hurt and his brain made him think. He thinks of removing you, he thinks of keeping you. He thinks of plans to protect you, backup plans to make sure you remain untouched while still maintaining the image of the First Lady. His true possessiveness and obsession flares up in his mind.

‘It won't be a mistake if I don't repeat the past,’ he told himself, repeating that line to his head.

He takes a deep breath, a glance at the cameras shows workers and guards kept the halls clear and you were in his room and on his bed waiting for him. Waiting for him to ravish you as you kept playing with the buttons of the shirt, and your underwear on the floor. Your face was crimson but your lower lip was in a darker shade of red with how much you bitten it because of nervousness.

He lets out a huff of air before adjusting himself accordingly. Coriolanus Snow was many things, gentlemen included and gentlemen don't keep their ladies waiting.

You freeze as he enters the room. You swallow nervously, your fingers pausing on the shirt button you were playing with. He glances at the panties that were on the floor and he gives you a little smirk. “Take it all off, my wife,” he said as his hands worked to undress him. His suit was on the floor, his shirt joining it soon enough.

You have to press your thighs together as you see his skin again, a whimper escaping your lips at the sight. He was so beautiful, craved by the angels, breathed to life by the devil. Soon, his pants and boxers were getting ridden off.

You check him out, your gaze hungry. Your fingers shake with desire as you take off your (his) shirt. You let it fall, exposing yourself completely to him, like he did for you. His eyes rack you up, causing a flush to every visible inch of your skin.

“Open your legs,” he said, as he walked closer and got down on his knees for you. “I am hungry,” he said, while his lips pressed to your knee and his lustful eyes bewitched you. You had to bite your tongue to not let a moan from his mere words. You spread your legs wide, letting your cunt come into his view.

Your folds that were glistening with your arousal and your slit which was the cause of your juices fluttered around nothing from his gaze. “Exquisite,” he had whispered, the praise warming you up and making your pussy clench harder. “Eager too,” he chuckles, looking up at you but you refuse to meet his gaze.

“Have your meal,” you mumbled, embarrassed. He pressed a wet kiss to your inner thigh, making your breath hitch from the contact. A sharp moan escapes when he bites, his teeth digging into the flesh and your hand falls onto his hair. Your fingers grip the blonde locks but you don't try to push him away. Your legs tried to close around him, but his hands made sure to keep them spread as he liked it.

He pulled away, admiring the mark before he pressed another wet kiss to it. His fingers grip your thighs, they hold tight enough to leave marks too.

He takes in a deep breath, nuzzling into your thigh. Your primal scent makes him go wild, his nail digging into your skin as he brings his lips closer to your pussy. One swipe of his tongue onto your folds and he groans louder than you have ever heard him to do so.

“You taste like fucking candy,” he lets out, as his nose bumps into your clit, his tongue messily swirling around your folds, gathering as much of your juices as possible. Your legs were all on his shoulders now as he all but pressed his face, burying himself in your cunt. He takes in a deep breath through his mouth before he begins to ravish you properly.

His mouth taking in your entire pussy and sucking it with such devotion it made you see stars. He laps at your pussy, his tongue never stopping to devour you. You pulled him even closer, your thighs closing around his head. The action only made him. You couldn't see it, but his eyes rolled back from the lack of air and your taste that quickly became his favorite.

His teeth pulled at the outer lips of your pussy, making you cry out and gush more juices. He licks it all up. Before his attention goes to your little bud, his mouth kisses it at first. Then he takes your clit into his mouth to suck without any mercy.

It makes you cry out, the soles of your feet digging into his back as your hips begin to rut against his face. You have no control over your actions. You were gripping his hair so tight you were afraid that you tore away a few strands. Overwhelming pleasure attacked all of your senses as he didn't stop his merciless actions.

You arch your back, your lips moaning his name as heat begins to gather in your body. You cry out, “Close! Coryo! Fuck!” Pleads begin to leave your mouth as your hips grind faster, your clit nudged his nose as his tongue is now inside your walls, fucking you with his tongue.

Your eyes widen, and you let out a silent scream when his teeth nip your swollen clit. You lay on the bed, panting as your pussy cums on his face. Your arousal makes a mess on his face which makes you even more slick when he pulls back and gets on top of you.

You looked into his eyes, his cold blue eyes that were nearly black now. He was panting, both of your breaths mixing into the air. With whatever senses you have left, you use your palm to clean up some of the mess on his face.

As soon as you finish up, he holds your hand. His mouth on your palm with broad strokes of his tongue he licks the remaining of your juices clean. “Can't let it go to waste, my bird,” he whispered to you as he leaned down. His body caging yours or were you caging him down with your legs around his waist? He pressed a kiss to your cheek. Sweet and gentle, and so unlike him but you don't dare question his affections. May it be sweet or savory, you accept it with your arms wide open.

“Want you,” you whispered to him. “You'll have me when I see fit,” he replied, his mouth pressing open-mouthed kisses to your neck before they reached the flesh of your breasts. One of his hands squeezed your breast and his thumb rubbed circles on your nipple. His lips paid attention to the underside of it, licking the skin around the round flesh before his teeth sank in making you gasp. He sucks harshly, his hold on your breast getting rougher as he forms the mark on your skin. When he's assured that a hickey will be formed, his lips pull back and he presses a kiss to the mark.

“You're mine,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your skin before he takes a nipple into his mouth and sucks just as harshly as before. You moan, “Yours, Snow!” Your hands on his shoulders, your nails digging into his flesh. His fingers play and squeeze your other breast while he continues to suck your bud. Your cunt despite having a previous earthsharing orgasm begins to pulse with need. You whimper, “Corio, please!”

Coryo pulls away, his eyebrows etched in annoyance, as much as he likes to hear you beg, he would rather focus on his task of marking you up. He leans up and presses his lips to you. You moan into his mouth as you taste yourself on his tongue. Your fingers tangling themselves into his curls bringing him even closer to you. He breaks the kiss, “I'll teach you to be obedient later, my pet.”

You let out a whimper when he pressed a hard kiss against your lips. His hands travel down to your hips. “Get ready,” he whispered to you, “I meant my words.” I'll fuck you until you can't remember your name. Remembering his earlier words, you whine loudly, “Please!”

His hand grips your hip tightly as his other hand holds his hard cock and guides it to your entrance. Just to be a little tease, he swipes his mushroom tip all over your cunt, his cockhead bumping your swollen clit making you arch your back and your nails dig into his flesh harder, making him moan as well.

He finally pressed his tip into your slit, his cock gliding in smoothly because of how wet you were. He groans as his dick gets sucked into warmth. His head is between the space of your shoulder. He was panting, his hot breath hitting your skin as he pushed in inch by inch. Your hands are on his back, your legs around his waist as you encourage him to go deeper into you with your soft moans.

His teeth sink into your neck to stop a groan, as his cock reaches your deepest spot. While your nails drag themselves across his back to create red lines. Both of you finding ways to anchor yourself to reality, to not go insane with the pleasure you find in each other.

“Move,” you plead, “Please, Coryo, need you to fuck me. Need you!” Snow decided to have mercy on you both, his hips began to move shallowly, and he refused to completely pull back. He refused the concept of depriving his dick of your sweet, wet pussy. “Faster,” you beg, his deep thrust hits at your every spot, some you didn't even know existed. It fried at your senses, your mind going haywire, your body getting desperate for another release.

“No,” he barks near your ear, his mouth biting your earlobe before he begins to kiss your jaw and then to your collarbone. His lips suck purple and blue bruises on your skin while his hips grind into you. Making you go dizzy and insane with how his cockhead kept grazing your g-spot.

“Please, please,” you babble, “You're fucking me so good, Coryo! I can't take it, please! Fuck me harder, love!” His hips had stopped moving as he heard your words. His head leaned up to you, his lips brushing against yours as he whispered, “What did you say?”

You looked straight into his eyes, not hiding the love you had for him, letting it flow through your words and your body. “Love,” you whispered, your lips pressing a delicate kiss that could shatter everything you had built with Snow. “I love you,” you whispered. One of your hands moves to his cheek, caressing him. “You don't have to do anything in return, just know that I love you.” You smile at him, knowing it's more likely that he won't ever return your feelings.

You prepared yourself for a harsh rejection but instead, his hips begin to move again. Harder, faster than before, his cockhead kissing your cervix with his thrusts, his fingers digging into your hips marking it. You won't be able to walk later but that didn't matter.

What mattered was how perfect Coriolanus had begun to fuck you. No, it wasn't a fuck. This was something more. Something changed with your confession, something changed and will remain changed for the rest of both of your lives.

One of his hands reached upward, his fingers snaking around your throat. He pressed it in, not enough to block your breathing but enough to make you lightheaded. Your pussy which was already tight, clenched around him further making him groan right against your ear.

“Lover indeed,” he whispered, his words that you nearly missed, your heart understood what he meant. You gasp, “Kiss me.” You knew that even without him saying those words, he could love you all the same.

Snow complies, his lips clashing with yours. His hips rutting into you as his hands guide your legs into the mating press position, making you cry out into the kiss as his cock reaches even deeper than before causing a small bump into your stomach that neither of you notices.

The kiss got open-mouthed, desperate with how his tongue tangled with yours. It was filth filled with the pathetic, insanity of love you both felt for each other. His thrusts got faster, and sloppier as he was close to his end. Your cunt pulsating around his length as you too were close to shattering again.

What it took for both of you to reach the end was him breaking the kiss to whisper, “I should kill you. I should kill you for making me a lovesick fool again.”

The words even when you know can mean your doom makes you cum like nothing else. Your lips cry out as your walls begin to milk his cock for what it's worth. He groans into your mouth, letting himself feel your fluttering cunt before he thrusts into you once, twice, and finds his release. His cock spilling into you, his cum painting your insides white, marking you.

He pulls out, his back covered with scratches, his curls clinging to his forehead and his lips swollen from the kisses. You looked just as much of a mess as he did, with marks all over your body.

He thinks to himself as he lies beside you. He wasn't going to kill you now. Not in ten years or fifty but your end would only be when he decides.

He loves you after all, in his twisted way.

tags : @stelleduarte @nowitsmissing @lifeonawhim @le-lena @justacaliforniandreamer

[joemama-2]

it’s late at night. he’s already situated on the bed, seeing you come into the room with unkempt hair, you shirt has splotches of dried milk and your movements are slow. tired.

why wouldn’t you be?

an energetic three year old who’s just like his father is hard to maintain. though you wouldn’t trade it for the world. “come here, baby.” he pats his lap, grinning softly.

you look over from where you’re taking off your jewelry for the day, in attempt to get ready for your nightly shower. “hm? for what?”

his eyes follow your every movement, patting his lap once more. “you know exactly why. cmon, daddy needs some stress relief.”

the laugh you let out causes his face to soften, admiring you in a way that’s reserved solely for his wife, for the mother of his son. “i thought we agreed you couldn’t call yourself that anymore.”

he adjusts himself when he sees you come over, crawling on the bed to situate yourself in a straddling position over his hips. his hands fall into place on the curve of your waist, thumbs rubbing small circles on the small patch of skin that shows when your shirt lifts up. “you did. i didn’t.”

“it’s cringey.”

“so?”

you huff, eyes rolling. he dips his head forward into the crook of your neck, planting a trail of warm kisses. “satoru, are you sure?”

“are you sure?” he asks, voice muffled by your skin. “i just want to pamper my wife after a long day, can’t i do that?”

“i feel hideous right now.”

he tips his head back, bright eyes staring back at you with an intensity you’ve come to associate with. the kind of intensity that lets you know whatever he says—he means it. “hideous? what did i say before, huh? i said don’t even think about saying stupid stuff like that again. and look at you now.”

your lips downturn. “don’t say that just to make me feel better.”

“i’m not,” he places a firm kiss to your lips. “you look beautiful every day, every second of the day. but you look especially gorgeous right now.”

you narrow your eyes at him, skeptical. “why right now?”

satoru’s lips quirk into a sly grin, his thumbs still tracing those comforting circles on your waist. "because right now, I see my whole world in front of me. the woman who gave me everything I could ever want—a family, a home, a reason to come back every single day.”

the weight of his words presses against the exhaustion hanging over you. it’s not just flattery. it’s raw and genuine, just like him, and it makes your chest ache in the best way. “you’re so cheesy, you know that?”

“and you’re so heavenly,” his grin widens, leaning in closer until your noses almost touch. “but you love my cheesiness, don’t you? admit it.”

your lips twitch, a small smile breaking through despite your best efforts to keep a straight face. “maybe I do.”

“there it is,” he murmurs, pressing another kiss to your lips, softer this time, as if he’s handling something fragile. “that smile’s all I need to get through anything.”

the words wrap around your tired soul like a warm blanket. and for a moment, the weight of the day fades, replaced by the solid, steady presence of him—your husband, your partner, the man who never fails to make you feel like the most important person in the world.

you sigh, resting your forehead against his. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Wrong.” his voice is firm, his hands steady as they pull you just a little closer, subtly rubbing you against his clothed cock. “I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you.”

and in that quiet, intimate moment, with the world outside fading into irrelevance, you believe him.

"now let me pamper you like I promised." he switches positions, hovering above you as you lay on your back. leaning down to raise the hem of your shirt, trailing sweet kisses and licks against your stomach—heading further south. your hips raise slightly as he discards your lounge pants, breath hitching in anticipation. hand running down through the streaks of his white hair, he smiles at the sight of your pussy hidden behind the grandma underwear you adorn.

hot breath tickling your core that leaves you almost jerking upwards for more. he kisses your clit through the loose fabric. “besides, mommy needs her fix too, doesn’t she?”

[pianocat939]

part 2 plz

Yandere Player 230 (Thanos) Headcanons Part 2

(IF YOU HAVENT WATCHED EP.6 YET NO LOOKY)

Tw: No murder (yet), brief mentions of violence and potential murder, unconsensual touching (NOT NSFW), threats

I know him being killed isn't a big surprise- BUT IM STILL MAD. I want bro to come back. I need him. Heck at this point I'm just gonna watch all the dramas T.O.P has been in because man's just too fine.

Part 1

Beginning where I left off, during the Merry-Go-Round Mingle game, you best bet he won't let you be separated from him. He'll hold your extremely tight if you try to get away. He'll turn his head, and give you a very maniacal closed-lip smile.

"Don't run mousey. I'm not letting you get killed. I wanna be able to play one more game with you."

If it's just 2 players? He won't let the others kick you out. He'll probably just kick someone and run off while holding you in his hand. Once you're in the room, he'll probably pin you to wall give you big smooch somewhere on your face. Literally could be anywhere.

If you resist, he'll just hug you tight and cover you in even more kisses. He's just waiting for you to submit.

If you just stand there and not really do much about it, he'll hug you tight.

"Good. I knew you were a good mousey. Those bastards can't compare."

During the game, if someone tries to separate you or prevent you guys from winning, he won't hesitate to hit the violence button. You can honestly just stand there and watch him go nuts.

For the voting after the game, if you choose to continue the game, he'll be much more pacified. Just doing his usual clinging and teasing. He likes holding hands with you and swinging your arms in-sync as you wait for the voting to finish.

If you choose to not continue the game, he'll stare into your soul. He couldn't believe you. Weren't you supposed to be his good little mousey? You won't expect much during the voting, but during meal time he'll go nuts. He'll pull you aside and keep you pinned against the wall. He won't let you ignore him.

He'll harshly whisper to you that if you pull something against him he would personally kill any of the people who want to continue. All to prevent you from leaving him.

"Don't pull that shit, 'kay? All those fuckers are gonna die anyway. Just you and me baby. Just you and me."

As we know, he dies during the teams fight. But I want to do a possible part 3 where he does in fact live. Basically a theory on what he would do if he survived.

So until I upload a part 3, that'll be that. Sorry this part was shorter, but I need to think a bit more for part 3 considering I'll be twisting away from the drama's story.

—————————————————————————

Chat I would absolutely allow him to drag me into a room during the Mingle game. Like sir of course I will follow. Bro's voice is simply perfect like could you please read a book to me and I will be knocked out within minutes.

- Celina

[verysium]

attractive things bllk characters (unintentionally) do?👀

i received this ask and decided to write this entire thing through a caffeine-powered fever dream. may have gone a little overboard. please pray for both your sanity and mine. thank you anon for your strong sense of imagination (or delusion, whichever you prefer.)

nagi lifts the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face, and you accidentally (or not so accidentally) get a good look at the droplets running down his abs and v-line. he also does the doorway lean while waiting for you to get ready. since he's so tall, he puts his one arm up on the top of the door frame while scrolling through his phone. when he feels drained of energy, he clings to you like a koala, face buried into the crook of your neck.

rin pushes his hair back when his bangs get in the way, and it shows off his ridiculously sharp side profile. sometimes you have to pause mid-conversation because the direct eye contact gets too intense. he has the brightest turquoise eyes in existence, and they stare right into your soul. pair that with the height difference and him towering over you. hang onto your ovaries because this man is about to snatch them. if isagi or sae are anywhere remotely close within your vicinity, he will personally drag your chair closer over to him. you know, the whole nick jonas chair pull thing? he also unintentionally clenches his jaw when pissed, the vein popping out and everything.

barou is polite to his elders. he holds the door open for others. he tips extra at restaurants. he is kind to service workers. he's just a gentleman overall even though he likes to act tough. he rolls up his sleeves while cleaning or cutting up vegetables, and you can see the veins bulging in his forearms. wears those form-fitting aprons where you can see the outline of his waist and the muscles in his back. he is not immune to raging pit bull moments, but he will calm down immediately when you ask him to.

kaiser requires physical touch to function. all concept of personal boundaries goes poof in his little ego-driven brain. he holds your chin so you look up at him while he's talking. also has that husky growl when he wakes up in the morning. he speaks german. what else is more attractive than that? if you stroke his ego, he will puff his chest out like an emperor penguin and flash that movie star smile. does not slow down his pace for you, and will laugh at your expense when you trip in heels and fall. but then he feels guilty about it and begrudgingly picks you up and carries you home. however, before that he will make you swear on everything holy to never tell isagi about his moment of weakness. (tbh kaiser is a menace and has some serious self-esteem issues. pls avoid dating a man like him in real life until he is fully mature. i still love him tho.)

reo mansplains but not in the condescending way. he does so in the "omg i'm so excited to finally get to share something with you and you're never going to believe it" sort of way. rambles on and on about his interests and gets that little glint in his eye when he's passionate about something. also not sure if this counts but he gets extremely depressed when you don't message him back within five minutes. what do you mean you were busy? he was out here dying from a literal famine. he needs your affection to survive. last but not least, he is good at styling. he knows what colors work best for you, and he will put together three new looks for you in record time.

hiori dreams that you left him for good and wakes up crying with his arms around you. will refuse to let you leave the bed even if it is just to get a glass of water. his rare moments of emotional vulnerability are what gets to you.

shidou does not condone any of your bad decisions. you want to get shit-faced and party until early morning? no complaints from him. you want to wear sexy outfits to the club? say less because he's about to enjoy the view and knock out the front teeth of every guy who dares to ogle you. i don't know if this qualifies as being attractive, but he would never be the controlling type. you can dress and act however you want. unfortunately for you though, this is also a textbook case of the blind leading the blind. if you get horrendously hungover, so does he. if you get pulled over, he's going to be too blackout drunk to even comprehend the officer's words. you can count on him for a good time, but not anything else. do not take any of his advice at face value.

oliver likes to show you off even if he doesn't notice it himself. any talk with his team, and he will find a way to make the entire conversation about you. at this point, the entire u-20 team is done with him. they placed bets that you two wouldn't last more than a month due to his philandering reputation, but the universe seems to think otherwise because you and oliver hit the six-month mark and are still going strong.

ness guards your drink with an unnecessary amount of protection. while you left to go use the restroom, he was looking left and right, and the hairs on the back of his neck were prickling every time someone even came close to your cup. he also shoos away any person who opens their mouth while standing next to your drink because apparently the condensation from their breath could be dangerous. definitely covers your cup with both hands even if it has a lid. no suspicious shit is happening on his watch.

yukimiya is well-read, and he wears glasses. he has a copy of every single classic out there in existence and will fangirl along with you over your virginia woolf collection. he was written by a woman with two cats and a wine glass. not much else to say.

loki absolutely clears the entire carnival/arcade game. you want that giant teddy bear that costs over three hundred ticket points? say less because he's about to win the whole damn pot. of all characters, i would say he's one of the only green flags. like celery green.

isagi always looks for you when he enters the room. intentionally or not, he always seeks your presence. if someone says a funny joke, he turns to you to see if you're laughing or not. also does that somewhat creepy stare thing where he just looks at you quietly while you do mundane tasks. internally he is screaming cus what do you mean you actually like him?

chigiri gives you that thankful little smile whenever you stand up for him. i feel like people don't understand how goofy he can get as he's canonically good at doing impressions/impersonations. also has the prettiest laugh. if he ever cuts his hair, i think i'm going to get a nosebleed.

noa unconsciously says yes to every question you ask of him. he'd be giving bastard münchen a hard time (and denying isagi's requests) but then immediately once you come over, he's automatically acquiescing to everything you say. the rest of the team is low-key shocked you can win him over so easily. when they confront him about it, he just shrugs and goes "y/n is always right."

kurona's entire existence is attractive. he's just perfect. nothing is ever wrong with him. will let you check out his shark teeth and lightly pokes your finger to leave an imprint. hopefully you'll always remember him that way. he's also quiet so he will listen to everything you say and give ample weight to your words.

sae is my baby girl so he gets a whole section dedicated to himself:

absentmindedly plays with your hair. when you're sleeping in his lap, he'll gently run his fingers along your scalp. sometimes in the morning when you're sitting up on the edge of your bed to do your makeup, he'll come up from behind you and brush back your hair. might also press a kiss to the back of your neck.

helps you put on your face mask. when he's shopping, he will buy you lotion along with his own skincare products. says that it was just a convenient store run but you know he personally made sure to get you the best quality ones.

this is canon because i said so: when he gets out of the shower, he slings the towel over his neck or his shoulder. he also involuntarily flexes his biceps when he bends down to grab something. has the world's most defined deltoids.

when you're stuck in large crowds at the airport, he puts his hand in your back pocket to keep you two from getting separated. if the TSA pat-down is anywhere too personal for his liking, he will openly glare at the officer once you've passed the security checkpoint.

bonus point: when you two brush your teeth early in the morning, he has that little bed head where his shorn-off bangs stick up in cute little tufts here and there. will have a dead look on his face, but his eyes soften when he catches your gaze through the mirror.