#sweet maunder

[chromaenthusiast]

If Macbeth was published today Macbeth would be a Tumblr Sexman. People would call him blorbo and babygirl and their problematic fave. I can see it.

[miradelletarot]

I'm super in my feels lately, and I'm remembering my Virtual Choir days.

I really need to see if I still have the sheet music somewhere for the ones I was in. (I was in VC 4, 5, and 6 btw, and I am so grateful to have had those experiences.)

[six-culture]

sitting on logans lap as he decompresses from the day, drink in hand. you're complaining about something that has happened and he just sits there looking at you, occasionally nodding or raising his eyebrows in mild shock of something you said. eventually he gets tired of your whining, you can only complain so much before he raises a large, forceful hand to your mouth. "thats enough baby," he'd say. it's not that he doesn't love listening to you ramble, but his mind often wanders after a few drinks with your warm little body pressed against him. you let off steam by maundering on and on about whatevers on your mind but logan could only ever find that same relief deep inside you.

he'd take his hand off your mouth and pull you further into his lap so you're straddling him, he'd hold your jaw steady as you two made out, the taste of whiskey, cigars, and spit filling your mouth. a familiar flavour that made you so wet he could feel the condensation leaking onto him through his jeans. you'd let him feel you up, use you like a stress toy, squeezing your hips and ass, biting and nipping at your neck and collarbone. you'd let him carry you to bed and fuck you, fucking you hard as to make you both forget about what was ailing you, your moans and whines drowning out all the infuriation he'd felt throughout the day. the feeling of his sweet girl around him and the little sounds that escape you flooding his mind with pure euphoria.

[cowboyfromh3ll]

Hi! I loved your fics (specially with Charles and John) and i was thinking about making a request

Could you do a Charles x reader smut. Maybe with the reader has a big thing for doing it dangerously and poor Mr. Smith has to deal with his girl

Closer

(Charles Smith x Fem!Reader Smut)

This was so fun to write, it was very free flowing/not structured, so it was new

Warnings: smut, asphyxiation, public sex, impact play, just risky sex lol

The bulk of Charles reminded you of what it was like to be strong. You’d huddle into his robust arms, he’d wrap them around you, dwarfing you completely, and you’d hear the familiar breathing of your lover. His morale and strong nature never dwindled, and he would pick you up when you were down (both literally and metaphorically). But Charles’ stature especially served as a source of comfort for you, his strength was remarkable, capable of defending you from anything and anyone, and he was competent in everything he did. Especially in loving you. The fortuitous exultation he felt seeing you rely so heavily on him: having you ask him for acts of service, ask for advice, or have you ask him to teach you something. And he got pleasure out of beating the daylights out of anyone in your name.

And more than anything, the two of you loved the sheer size difference between you two.

Charles outweighed you by at least fifty pounds, if not more. His biceps alone were nearly the size of your head. His massive back and torso would cover you completely when he was on top of you; his arms caging and protecting you, blotting out the outside world. And in prudent hesitation, he would shakily wrap his arm around your neck and squeeze upon request. For a while, Charles did not understand your obsession with being put in a chokehold. He could not fathom you getting any sort of pleasure from it, but when he heard your shaky breaths, whimpers slipping in between, he would be roused to squeeze harder. And when he saw your increasingly reddening face, both from pleasure and asphyxiation, he couldn’t keep his own cock from twitching.

Charles loved you more than anything, and his tenderness with you would bleed into many aspects of your relationship. Especially sex. He was well aware of his strength, as were you. And Charles would quickly discover, to his surprise, how much you enjoyed being shoved into pillows before sex, slapping your tender skin where you asked, yanking your hair multiple times at varying levels of strength until he got it right up to your standard, holding you down on the bed, grinding away at delicate bones too hard until he felt them shift, all just the way you liked it. And you happily took every bit of it. You’d have your fevered and bruised skin to show, flaunting the deep purple marks around camp so blatantly a few of the gang members would worry for you.

Your moments of sweet cessation around camp together would be delicately intimate, a rare shred of privacy allotted for the two of you, which would inevitably be interrupted by some gang member’s bumbling maundering over something or the other. The cutlery and mugs would look pocket-sized in his grasp, his hands in gargantuan proportions compared to your own. On a more pure occasion, you’d reach across from where you'd be sitting together and trace the curve of his cheeks with the back of your hand, reminiscent of the way he would before slapping you in bed.

Before bed, Charles would occasionally ask you again and again why you enjoyed it so much, what part of you was satiated by the practices. You would simply say you didn’t know why, it was just enjoyable. He would continue to ponder the question as the two of you laid in his tent, your body flipped away from him and your back pressed to his large chest. His arm would drape over your body along with the blanket, his body working as a furnace and providing more heat than the blanket ever could. His breath warm against your neck, goosebumps rising as his lips ghosted the sensitive, downy nape of your neck.

And just as his breath was evening out and slowing down, under the belief that the two of you were finally settling in for the night, you’d guide his hand to your lap, bunching up your nightgown until it was flipped over your hips. He’d blink away sleepiness, his eyes adjusting to the darkness around you, barely registering what you were doing before you hiked your leg up and behind his massive thigh, stretching your legs wide so his palm could cup your pussy.

Charles would become hyper aware of what was happening, especially around him: He’d take notice of the distant chattering coming from the bright camp fire from across camp, the sleeping bodies that were only a few feet from you, the people wandering around the camp entrances acting as guard who’d be more alert than anyone else.

“(Name), what are you doing?” He’d ask in a hushed tone.

Your only response would be a stifled whimper as you ground your pussy against his hand. And even though every fiber in his body would tell him to stop, to keep your intimacy private and dignities intact, he would drag his calloused fingers along your pussy, his rough pads circling your sensitive bud. The hair on the back of your neck would stand as you listened to his heavy breathing against your ear, grinding your ass back on his semi erect cock. You’d guide his hand under your bloomers, raking through your soft curls until he reached your folds, parting your pussy and exposing your clit. You’d urge him to rub harder, pressing your hand into his as he rubbed vigorously.

You’d be moaning openly into the air if not for the arm wrapped over your mouth, his bicep muffling, virtually silencing you completely. You’d cover his arm in drool, occasionally dragging your tongue over the skin tentatively. The pleasure was overwhelming, washing over you like cresting waves. Eventually, he’d sink a finger into you to the hilt, curling the finger and feeling the way you twitched and jerked in his hold. You’d grip onto his forearm, sinking your nails into the steel rod that was his arm and leaving behind crescent shapes.

The two of you would become keenly aware of the body next to you, rolling and mumbling in their sleep, and you’d go stiff in fear of being discovered. But the fear was enthralling, and it would encourage you even more to grind down on his fingers, eyes rolling back as you moaned louder into his arm.

Hair stuck to your forehead with sweat, and he’d slide a second, even a third finger inside you, curling and pumping in and out of you. He’d smirk when he’d hear the muffled squelching coming from in between your legs, getting awfully caught up in the moment and forgetting there were people around you that could potentially hear.

Eventually, his hand would clamp over your mouth as tight as he could, bordering on covering your nostrils. His other hand would clutch your hip hard, staring intensely into your quivering back as he slid his large cock into your tight hole, stretching you so wide he’d feel your back arch and legs tense. He’d use his strength to pin you in place as he fucked you hard. Your skin would be iridescent with sweat, muscles taut and pulled tight as violin strings, your bodies moving in sync.

“Fuck me, Charles.” You’d gasp quietly, attempting to move your hips back in time to meet his thrusts. You’d whine in frustration if Charles even dared to stop if someone passed your tent, not caring that they were only a few feet away. Charles' chest would rumble lowly in a growl as he thrust all the way in, balls deep as his hips slapped against the fatty flesh of your thighs and ass. And you would gasp in satisfaction as your lover lovingly impaled you, deliciously, again and again.

Charles would be hesitant, but he’d always cave into your wants and desires. How could he ever deny his precious lover? Shaky hands would wrap around your throat, tightening each time as you whimpered how it wasn’t enough. And he’d have to be the one who got reassurance, making sure he wasn’t hurting you.

Your affinity for risky sex had the poor man sweating, but again, how could he turn you down? You’d insist he eat you out in broad daylight, only paces away from camp in the woods on a log, where anyone in the gang could peer over and see his tongue rolling flat over your clit. How you insist he take a bath with you in the lake after a long day of work, just barely out of sight from the camp, lazily tracing your tongue over the sweat that clung to his muscles as he fucked you in the water. How you’d request he pinch your nostrils closed as you throated his cock completely, your throat constricting as you struggled to take in a breath. And you would not allow him to let go until your vision was spotted with black. How you insist he finish inside you every single time, pumping you full of cum, round after round, until a halo of white formed around his base as he fucked the rest into you.

Poor Charles, some would say. Being pushed to his limits each and every time as his boundaries expanded with each passing day with you. Seeing the satisfied glint in your eye afterwards was always worth it, and how you’d allow him to clean you up and take care of you. Feeding you food and wiping you down between your legs, rubbing your belly as he wondered when would be the day.

Charles was strength, he embodied it. But he was gentle, delicate. He was benign.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Closer - Nine Inch Nails

[obsolescent]

Kinktober - Day One

Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x GN!Reader

Prompt: Playing with hair

Author’s Note: My first time participating in Kinktober! I’m following a certain list but I’m allowing a randomizer to select the prompt for each day. I’ll compile all these under one list for easy finding, too. I hope you enjoy! Sorry I'm technically posting this on day two, gonna skip some days.

Content Warnings: Reader has longer hair for this one due to the prompt, Cis Leon, no gendered language for reader, blowjob, P in V sex, unprotected sex, creampie, praising, sex toys, very sweet, very sensual.

Kinktober Masterlist

The clink of ice hitting the side of Leon’s glass is the only sound that’s heard through the bedroom. Taking a sip of the whiskey, he sighs as his other hand runs through your hair. His fingers move through the strands, lightly tugging along the way. Gathering your hair, he wraps it around his hand before letting it drop. You hum, the sound sending waves of pleasure through him. He lets his head drop against the back of the armchair, moaning softly. 

Your undulating motions against his cock are slow, savoring the way he feels in your mouth, the taste of him. You’re relaxed in between his legs, one of your hands rubbing his thigh while the other is between your own legs, rubbing slow circles against your clit. “S’good to me,” you hear him breathe out, his hand never stopping its journey through your strands, lightly scratching your scalp along the way.

You feel his thighs start the quake under your touch, signifying he’s close. “B-baby, m’close,” he whines. You smile against him, ministrations ceasing. You lean back and take in his tousled look. Soft blond locks sticking to his skin from sweat, shirt unbuttoned and wrinkled, dress pants and briefs down at his ankles. Lidded blue eyes gaze down at you, Leon taking in your own disheveled appearance. Your own shirt unbuttoned, bottoms tossed aside, underwear pulled down to your bent knees, thighs soaked. 

Setting down his glass, he murmurs, “Fuck, you’re stunning.” Now leaning over you, keeping a firm grasp on your hair. He pulls you up by the back of your head into a fervid kiss, tasting himself. He pulls away with a moan, standing up. He discards the rest of his clothing before offering his hand to you, helping you off the carpet. Leading you to the bed, Leon lays down and pulls you on top of him. You settle in place, your core grinding against him, wetting his cock with your slick.

Chest to chest, lips to lips, his hand begins wandering in your hair again, firm grip secure in your locks. There’s no rush, movements drawn out and soft, sounds of pleasure spilling for each of your mouths, both bathing in the glory of each other. Leon’s cock catches on your entrance every so often, almost slipping inside to instead glide over your bud, sending a rush of pleasure through you during each pass. Leon shifts his hips, his cock now prodding at your entrance. There’s slight resistance before it glides in, fully seated on him.

You both moan out simultaneously when he slips inside you, filling you up fully. One hand on your head, the other secured around your lower back. Fingers sinking firmly into your skin, Leon’s thrusts are deep and slow, hips rolling while his grasp keeps you in place. “Feel perfect, made for me,” He whispers in your ear, his maunder starting. Your hand ventures downward, circling yourself once more. Leon hums, “Let me,” his hand on your back leaving to reach over towards the night stand, in a fluid motion grabbing the vibrator and bringing it between your bodies. Turning it on to its lowest setting, he places it, the toy being held in place between you two. You gasp, the soft vibrations mixed with the leisure motions of Leon’s hips slowly building you up to an intense orgasm. 

He feels your pussy beginning to grip him tighter, nearing your end. “Getting close, baby?” He asks, kissing your temple. “P-please, may I cum?” You beg, your thighs quivering. He lets out a breathy chuckle before answering, “So good, asking f’permission. You can cum, honey.” A few more drags of his cock against your walls has you spilling over the brim into rapture. Each push of his dick into your clenching heat creates more of a mess between you, your orgasm prolonged. 

Crying out his name, chanting “Thankyouthankyouthankyou,” you grip at his forearms as he continues, eyes rolling back into your head. His own noises picking up, your release sending him careening into his own bliss. Whimpering out your name, he clutches your hair tighter, releasing inside you. You both lay in your shared euphoria, the glow of it warming your skin. He slides out, cum pouring out and dripping onto the bed.

Leon rolls over onto his side, bringing you with him. Grabbing tissues, he wipes up his essence, all the while leaving kisses across your skin. “Absolutely divine,” he whispers against you, running his hands down your body. You beam at him, pushing his hair back and cupping his face. Embracing you, Leon kisses your forehead, not once does his hand leave your hair.

[lostsyren]

Aw, now I need to actually see Rafe taking Sofia out on the water, like standing in the water, maybe letting her float while he holds her up like an unwavering rock, super supportive. I just know that when Rafe loves you, he got your back and would do anything for you

chlorine ོ༘☀︎⋆.˚ ｡𖦹°‧🫧˚.༄

{summary: rafe invites sofia to his house for a day at the pool…but sofia is scared of water.}

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ࿐ ࿔*: ࿐

°‧🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Business had been slow and Rafe was bored. He sat on the deck outside, looking at the pool, the water gleaming azure, the streams of sunlight rippling across it like slippery eels. He sipped on some beer, Tannyhill quiet and imposing on his shoulder. Barry was busy– something about a broken engine that he needed to fix. And Rafe didn’t feel like calling any of the country club crowd, the idea of their sycophantic presence making him recoil. His thoughts wandered to the country club bartender instead…°‧🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The water looked so good, the air was hot and sweet and Rafe was…well, alone. He pulled out his phone clicking on Sofia’s contact.

R: You wanna come over?

He knew she wasn’t working today (he’d quickly memorised her hours at the club), so it was only couple minutes before she answered.

S: sure! what time?

R: Now is good

S: ok im gonna get ready

R: Let me pick you up?

S: it’s ok i want to drive

R: You sure?

S: 🙄yes rafe

He laughed softly to himself.

R: Bring a bathing suit

S: why…?

R: Just bring one ok

S: fine see you in a bit

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

Sofia reached Tannyhill, bikini on under her shorts and T-shirt, just like Rafe instructed. She hoped he planned to sunbathe, or something like that. Not put to use that massive pool of his.

Sofia parked her car outside, beginning to walk up the sandy path to the house, carrying her tote bag filled with sunscreen, a book she was currently reading, and a towel.

Her excursions with Rafe felt more and more like a friendship, rather than a hookup. Sex felt like an afterthought, Sofia looking forward to the random little activities they’d do together much more. Sometimes she thought Rafe was just a bit lonely, but then she actually considered the concept of the kook king in his big white mansion being friendless and laughed at how stupid it sounded. But then the questions was: why was he still with her? She could never come up with an answer that made sense. But regardless of his elusive motive, Sofia had fun with Rafe. He was funny, sweet and, when he wanted to be, utterly charming.

She tried to ignore the times where he’d go into one of his strange moods. When he became distant. Waspish. Cold. He also became mean. Very mean. He’d always apologise after, but sometimes the things he’d say hurt her. But she didn’t dwell on that, she instead focused on the kind part of him.

Sofia wandered inside Tannyhill, with the door unlocked. She heard the curtains billow as the wind breezed its way into the house from the back garden. Sofia had been her a handful of times now so she knew where she was going, heading past the kitchen and maundering about the veranda, looking for Rafe. She quickly spotted him by the pool.

“Hey,” she greeted, when she got near, taking a seat on the sun lounge beside him. He was in his trunks and a polo shirt, Armani sunglasses on his nose. Rafe hurriedly sat him, swinging his legs on to the ground to sit facing her.

“Hey,” he said with a smirk, swiping his glasses off. He was in one of his better moods right now, she noticed.

“So…what do you wanna do today?” Sofia asked, itching to make use of the good weather on her day off from work and try and work on that tan.

“Chill by the pool?”

“Cool, I can do that.” She said with a lazy smile.

“You sure? Don’t want it to be too much hard work for you.” He teased, nudging her knee with his own, his long legs easily reaching hers in the space between them.

“I’m sure I’ll manage.” She winked.

He hummed contentedly, his eyes flickering up and down, taking her in. Every time she noticed him do that her heart surged a little, injected with a heady rush of glee. Sofia slipped off her shirt, revealing her bikini top, a floral patterned fabric strings tied around her nape. Rafe continued to stare, as she also shucked off her shorts, gathering her short hair up in a messy bun before lounging across the chair, soaking up the delicious sun that beamed down on them. Sofia was soon thumbing her book trying to find the chapter she’d left off on.

Rafe stood up suddenly, walking away from her.

“Hey where are you going?” She asked, eyebrows raised. She thought he’d stay with her.

Rafe smirked down at her with a teasing expression, “calm down, I’m going in the pool alright? Do I need to ask permission or something?”

Sofia rolled her eyes, “do you always have to be that infuriating?”

“Naturally,” he flashed her a grin before yanking off his shirt and diving into the deep end of the water.

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

Rafe did a couple of laps, before floating on his back, watching the cumulus clouds bob across the sky like a flock of sheep. The water was cool against his hot skin, the sun on the apple of his cheeks warm and comforting. He gazed over at Sofia, still sprawled neatly across the sun lounge, her eyes glued to that book of hers.

Rafe swam over to the edge, hauling his arms on to the stone floor, turning the grey slabs black with water.

“Sof?” He called out.

“Yeah?” She said without looking up from the page.

“Why don’t you come join me?”

He saw her eyes freeze, stuck on the word she was reading. Rafe suddenly wished he didn’t say anything, hating the thought of making her uncomfortable.

Sofia slowly met his eyes, “you know how I feel about water, Rafe.” Her tone wasn’t mean…more sad if anything– it made him feel guilty.

“You don’t have to come in. Just sit here on the edge.”

“I’m good where I am.” Her tone was slighter harsher this time round. Rafe stopped pestering. He instead dove back in, submerging himself in the bright blue depths, swimming under for a while, watching the sunlight undulate across and through the pool surface, like golden snakes of light. He wondered why she didn’t like water– what had happened? How much did the pair not know about each other, how many secrets they each kept? The questions forced him to confront what he had with Sofia– a strange in-between-thing of friendship– companionship– sex. His eyes began to sting from the chlorine, Rafe kicking himself up to get some air.

To his surprise, he found Sofia sitting on the ground, her legs crossed infront of the pool’s edge, waiting for him to come up again. The palms of her hands were resting on her knees as she eyed the cerulean waters warily.

“Hi,” she smiled down at him, with a dimpled grin. Rafe mirrored it, the response easy. She always made things easy.

“Hi,” he replied, swimming up to her. He treaded water as she watched, the two silent for a while. The breeze whispered between them gently, murmuring a pretty song of rustling leaves and faint wind chimes that Rose had hung up in the garden.

Rafe reached a slow hand to her own, placing his palm on top, dripping little beads of water on her bronze skin that looked like zirconia beads.

“You wanna swim?”

“I can’t.” She said, head hung low.

“Sure you can, just get in the pool.” He nudged her hand forward.

Sofia sighed stiffly, “I mean I can’t swim Rafe,” she muttered.

Oh. He supposed it should’ve been obvious, remembering how nervous she was on his yacht. Rafe studied her face, noticing it was tinged with red, as if she was embarrassed. He rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand, smoothening her soft skin.

“That’s ok…I’m here.” He said with a little smile.

She rolled her eyes, “you’re a trained lifeguard?”

He laughed, “I did lifeguard trading for a couple weeks actually.”

“So you’re qualified?”

“Not exactly,” he said, remembering how he got tired of the summer job his dad had forced him to get when he was 16, quitting after less than a month.

Sofia was about to get up, but Rafe pressed his hand down on her leg.

“Come on. Trust me ok?” His voice was low, trying to emulate calmness.

Sofia squinted her eyes, but he felt her tensed body loosen, melting into his touch.

Rafe took that as a sign of her consent, hooking his hand under her thigh, slowly pulling in towards him with a firm but gentle grip, using his other hand to hold her lower leg. He slowly brought her foot to the water, all the while making eye contact with her.

“Is this ok?” He asked. Sofia nodded.

He let her leg sink into the pool, feeling the goosebumps raise on her skin. He did the same to her other leg.

“See that wasn’t so bad was it?” Rafe smiled, running his hands up and down her legs in the water.

Sofia nodded slowly, “yeah,” she breathed.

“You wanna get in?”

“Rafe.” She said warningly.

“Come on, hold on to me.”

Rafe didn’t know why he was doing this…he supposed it was because he wanted to help her, like she’d helped him. He still recalled her advice that day on the balcony.

Do the thing you’ll regret the least.

He really needed that then.

And this was how he could be there for her now.

“I’m being serious, don’t do anything stupid ok?” She said, her eyes wide and mouth frowning.

“I won’t. I promise.” He gave her legs a tight squeeze.

Sofia licked her lips, before nodding cautiously, sliding her body closer to the edge. Rafe trailed his hands up her legs across the side of her thighs, planting his strong grip on her hips.

“Ready?” He probed, with what he hoped was a comforting expression on his face.

“Ok.” She said, the word coming out it a swift, nerve-riddled breath. Rafe pulled her into the water.

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

It was cold. That was her first thought. Her feet touched the ground, the water reaching just below her shoulders. Her thoughts quickly began to unravel, the familiar knot in her throat tightening, panic beginning to fray her edges.

“Hey hey hey, you’re good, you’re good. Look at me,” Rafe’s voice hummed, tugging her slowly out of her dread state.

“Sofia you’re ok.”

“I’m ok. I’m ok,” she repeated, hooking her hands around his neck, anchoring on to him.

He laughed softly, “exactly, you’re ok.” His hands were firmly gripping her hips, holding her in place in the water. After the initial trepidation, Sofia felt her wavering heartbeat flatten, her breathing becoming slower.

Rafe placed his forehead on hers forcing her to keep up the eye contact. “Tranquilo, right. Tranquilo.”

Sofia laughed at his attempt at Spanish, “your accent is horrible.”

He laughed with her, slowly swaying with her in the water as if they were slow dancing with the waves lapping around them, the sensation like feathers on her skin.

Sofia gazed into his eyes, the same colour as the pool water. Droplets beaded in his eyelashes, making him even more pretty.

Sofia gushed with an inexplicable joy.

“You having fun?” He murmured quietly to her, their faces inches apart.

She hummed a soft yes, pulling him closer to her.

Rafe tilted his head going in for a kiss, his grip on her hips tightening subconsciously. Sofia let out a little gasp as he hooked his lips with hers, trailing her further into his embrace. He was soft and slow, as smooth as the water that encompassed them.

“Can we get out now?” She breathed against his lips.

“Of course.”

Rafe hoisted her up in the pool, his strength increasing tenfold with the waters buoyancy. Sofia yelped as she was sprung up suddenly, her arms wrapping all the way around his neck, his chin pressed against her breastbone as he looked up at her with a laugh.

“Rafe stop!” She gasped, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.

“Don’t worry, I’m helping you out.” He waded through the pool easily– Sofia didn’t even notice how far away from the edge they drifted. Rafe perched her gently on the tiles surrounding the swimming pool, as if she weighed nothing.

“You can let go now.” He teased with a cocky smirk. Sofia scoffed jokingly, unwrapping her legs from his torso and unhooking her arms from his neck. She stood up in a hurry, shaking the water from her body. The experience was surprisingly…ok.

Rafe followed behind her, both of them drying off with their towels.

“That was nice of you Rafe…thank you.” She said, earnestly. She could tell he didn’t like it when she did that– be vulnerable. But she still did it anyway. It was important to her that he knew that she appreciated him. She also liked how he didn’t ask why she was afraid of water– there seemed to be a mutual agreement between the two not to pry.

“Don’t worry about it, had to put my lifeguard skills to use didn’t I?” He joked.

Sofia rolled her eyes elbowing him softly in the ribs before swivelling around to return to her book.

“You did real good Sofia.” Rafe suddenly said, making her stop in her tracks. She looked past her shoulder giving him a little smile.

“Thanks to you.”

She reached a hand out to his, giving his fingers a tight squeeze.

The two spent the rest of the day there on the side of the pool, talking mindlessly, Sofia reading her book as Rafe floated about in the water. They finally went inside as the sun was about to set, their cheeks kissed by the sun, both their skin scented like chlorine.

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

🐬a/n: thank you for this adorable ask!! do let me know what you think, and tell me what else you’d like to see from these two! also i’m working on a couple of requests currently! i promise i’m not ignoring you <3

[rodolfoparras]

It is alright, I've been attempting to speak more with relatives and such whenever possible. Sometimes I inquire about the proper use of certain words since accent/pronunciation is a big thing.

Blessed be your day to day and safe be your travels wherever they may lead you. Thank you truly, Sir Alec.

I merely maunder;; but yes we should appreciate our surrounding more often. If you're ever saddened or feeling down, clear your mind if possible. Relax and ease yourself of your woes with something you enjoy. Sweet pastries, writing down tidbits of your day/feeling, whatever helps you feel better and lifts your spirits.

You are most welcome, Sir Alec. Do take care and hydrate yourself, eat plenty of foods and rest well throughout the day; getting sick is never fun.

-Гора (your kindness leaves me feeling flustered but thank you for responding to my mindless rambling, it certainly brightens my day. So thank you, Sir Alec.)

I hope you see lots of improvement soon sugar bee!!

You are so sweet sugar bee genuinely wish I could hug you thank you so much for you sweet words and you have a safe and lovely day too!

I think I’d rather listen to you list of tips and tricks than actually do them because you have such a lovely way at phrasing them! They sound so elegant but are so simple to do!

Sugar you are way too sweet pls feel more than free to ramble to me I’ll happily listen to you and I’m glad i can bring you a bit of joy just like you bring me!!

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

7th Dimension (Chapter 7.9)

7TH DIMENSION MASTERLIST

PREVIOUSLY ON CHAPTER 7.8

7TH DIMENSION WATTPAD VERSION (LINK)  (I am entirely ahead on this site now. 7th Dimension on Wattpad has now accumulated more than 10 chapters even before I published this one tonight. There are minimal scenes back in the previous chapters which has been altered there, so sorry about to those who only read my updates through Tumblr because there might be some differences in Satoru’s characteristics which has been changed on Wattpad already, yet y'all are bound to read the altercations in further chapters. Heehee.)

。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜

Characters: Gojo Satoru x Small!Naive!Fem!Foreign!Reader | THIS IS A MULTI-CHAPTER FIC. THIS IS AN X READER FANFIC WHO HAS BEEN BROUGHT TO THE DIMENSION OF JUJUTSU KAISEN | (Trust me, you'll live. I hope?)

Summary: (End of Chapter 7. Part 10) Mind Training with Gojo Satoru had been beneficial to the both of you. You were given a mission to bake him sweets and in return of earning a 10/10 rating from the Great Teacher Gojo would result for a Shopping Spree treat from the Strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer alive. Additional Summary for this chapter: All good things come to an end. Yet, the days hereafter might hold something more for both. One which consisted of utter perplexity, interest and mirth rather than today. 

Warnings: Somehow kinda soft Satoru? I mean, you'll understand why. Tiny-Chan is being sweet through words? It's subtle though. This ain't fully candy-sweet yet and I'm terribly waiting for the moment they would be. (T_T) Just the word Damn? | Just imagine the bandage scene gifs included here are the ones he currently has. Not the ones he had via JJK0, alright? Basically, the black ones that he has right now is what he really have with Tiny-chan.

7th Dimension Taglist: @dailystsg (Send me an ask or message if you want to be added or removed, bb’s!)

REBLOGS, COMMENTS OR ANY SORT OF FEEDBACK MAKE MY HEART TINGLE AND SQUEAL, ISTG. 💙 I DO APPRECIATE THEM ALL. SORRY IF THERE ARE LOTS OF TYPOS AND GRAMMAR ERRORS WITH EVERY CHAPTER I WRITE. I ain't a professional writer! I'm just a potato-hoe! LMAO.

Words: 5k+

Disclaimer: PNG's or pictures used in edits, also those posted are not mine especially the GIF's. (I dunno how to make GIFs 😭) I only own the plot of 7th Dimension. But, not Jujutsu Kaisen's storyline and the characters themselves. OG characters are created by me and will be stated during my brief author's notes. I apologize for the typos or grammatical errors by the way! English isn't my first language so I'm so sorry in advance! Character development and personalities are based from my understanding and how I want them to be for the sake of the story. Please do not post/copy any of my writings/works anywhere.

THE SUNBEAM OF THE AFTERNOON SCINTILLATED THROUGH YOUR SKINS; the warm heat of the sun looming over you and Satoru, at odds with the brisk breeze as you crossed the threshold within the boundaries of Tokyo Jujutsu High.

It was a maunder through the pavements, mosey on up back to where you were guaranteed to be headed. Back at Satoru's sleeping quarters heisted for the meantime. This seemed like a thorough dawdle with the white-haired Jujutsu Sorcerer. Worth to be painted a word picture of a leisure walk as if you weren't aware that Satoru was not entirely damned late enough for whatever meeting or assembly he had.

Needless to say, the latter did not give a damn or two on it at all; the negligence he had with time involve. You've eventually adhered to the necessity of his wanted presence, considering the idea that he was of paramount importance with the denomination he had been gloating, one worth to be printed as a front page headline of the newspaper like Spiderman has finally revealed his face to the world.

The Strongest. Two words. Twelve letters. It wasn't difficult to comprehend yet the description felt like the panjandrum of the century. Was he really the only one in his world? Did he not have a partner for help then or rather another person who was worth to be entitled as the second?

Satoru was ensured to be chastised that his dilatory punctuality had involved to be taken by an irrelevant woman in their world who'd just needed to be chaperoned out for shopping.

Everything had been equanimous walking through the borderline hills towards the institute; the quietude for Satoru's congenial company unusual to his incessant badinages sent here and there. This chop and change regarding with his behavior making you chew-over that he was reflecting over his own thoughts for whatever concerns or matters he was dwelling about. 

You knew you were on the sly upon giving him inquisitive ganders, sneaking glimpses walking alongside of him. Your face partially hidden behind the top portion of your Neko soft toy, over-scrutinizing this whole comforting tranquility that has been settled between you both when in fact, Satoru has been experiencing that zany, homely atmosphere again. The restful lull enwreath with amenity when he has held you in his arms back at that time during the Hatagaya incident for which always has him in a woolly thinking.

"Got somethin' to say, Tiny-Chan?" Satoru divulged to your incessant, sly glimpses. He spouted upon a question out of the blue, nipping in the bud of the silence that was starting to grow familiar as the clock ticked by. An over free sense that he'd ruminated for a time being; for a cordial tranquility he had not asked for; a sensibility that always leaves him feeling strange. 

"Huh? What do you mean, Satoru?" you've blurted out of the blue, partially lost in your own faraway land for a second or two, dubious that he was actually and entirely aware that you were sneaking in glimpses when he wasn't even looking at all.

"You seem like you have somethin' in mind, though." he bluntly put it that way, shrugging to himself before he pressed on with his candidness, "---unless, you're keepin' them to yourself? You do know you're bound to spit those secrecy of yours when I'm with you until you're aggravated enough to pull all of my hairs out. I'm not one to heap praise on any lie when it comes to you," pause. "---To put it simply, you're actually just beginning to stare a lot. Heh."

The white-haired sorcerer fiddled along the contents of his pockets. One hand aimlessly shoved inside as he gave a minimal smile that you've briefly laid your eyes upon. The other grasping along the handles of all your tremendous amount of paper bags that he surprisingly held for you. His focal point just straight ahead. 

With a scratch to the head, caught in an disoriented phase that came with a stutter from his frank mouth, "Ah---Eh---Hm, was I? Uh---" Peering up at him from the sides, the glint in your eyes irreproachable. A school of thought that calls into question for how their abilities functioned at all. The Strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer hummed in return to acknowledge you. His subtle genial smile relentless as he was anticipating your intriguing questions about Jujutsu every now and then during the day spent with him. 

To be honest, Satoru subtly hoped it wasn't one he'd experienced prior to when he felt strangely awkward. A weird fortuity he'd never been familiarized in because he was Satoru Gojo. He was a man; a shameless one to be exact. Yet, you have made him feel rather fiddly not long ago.

"---If you could actually teleport by the way, then why didn't we just---well, since you're late to whatever it is you're needed to go to..." You've consciously trailed off, thoughts going nowhere and not knowing if you were making sense, testing the waters upon a subject that has been outlandish when it would be engaged in a conversation back in your rightful dimension. One ought for humanity to interpret as if you were of cuckoo. 

To Satoru's world, it was simply a conventional, homespun scenario. 

"Ah, Spatial Manipulation, you say?" Gojo uttered as a matter of fact. The pitter-patters of his footfall appeasing to the rhythmic thrums of your heartbeat once you've apathetically responded. Pitch all wordly-wise for him to smirk on to.

"I've said what I said. Teleporting. It kinda' has the same function."

"To your sporadic brain and non-sorcerer perspective, it might be called teleporting. But, to us, Jujutsu Sorcerer's, it's Spatial Manipulation." his tone was jovial as he stood corrected, dancing along his words to your mullish prudence.

"Whatever you say then."

The latter gave a second through his brief deliberation, not wanting you to see that the question has caught him off guard. Your query being asked also to himself, yet he kept his cynicisms to his own, "Hm, First off, you wanted to take the train." he vaguely and quickly responded without any second thoughts. Before you could've opened your mouth to speak, he raced you off to your canny objections, "---Well, I assumed you were."

"But, you could've saved time?" Hugging the stuff toy closer to you. A knot upon your brows formed with your lower lip jutted out in a pout, mulling over the thought.

"Yet, isn't that what you wanted? To take the train?"

Satoru lightheartedly pressed on, repeating his latter sentence. It was giving off the impression that he was obstinate over his own opinions and was telling himself that and not to you. Thus, which held the furrow along your brows rather much tighter. Gojo appeared to be stressing on the idea or was probably just playing with you that he had to think you could also be one to blame for his intentional irresponsibility that he has welcomed to his harum-scarum ways.

You've reached a hand to scratch your nape, wondering why he was keeping the notion as a close-minded opinion, "I didn't actually say that---you know what? You're having a habit on putting words in my mouth. You just assumed I was because I haven't been to Japan. Ever."

"Ah, really now?" he sounded ingenuine as he asked, seeming to be feigning the skepticism and satirical sense of humor dancing through his words, "---weren't you actually skipping and mentally screeching like a child once you've seen the train?"

He's very much aware of his surroundings. Too mindful. Your mouth was kept shut as the words echoed in your brain. The subtle scrunch of your nose overflowing with aggravation for being culpable to Satoru's insane insights of his surroundings. Definitely, an ability you were starting to be suspicious of unless he was just utterly sensitive to the happenings that encompassed around him. All images were being reminisced to that particular moment where you were rooted to the spot from the Pokemon characters painted and printed along the interior layers of the train you've boarded in with him. 

"They've designed Jigglypuff, Skitty and Togepi well." you murmured rather softly, an admittance that wasn't meant to be heard as your mouth and words were muffled. 

Satoru couldn't help the smirtle that has been drawn to his face. All the while, his pitch was astute when he voiced out a quip, "Ah. That was an expected line from you. You're fond of another fluffy little thing." he'd began to pull on your leg, repossessing the prevalent jocularity he was having with you prior to the day rather than the easement that leaves him otherwordly unsettled. 

"---Let me raise you a fact, Tiny-Chan. Digimon's so much better." 

You've blinked to yourself upon hearing that come from him, slipping on a hop to your own place when you've taken a pause, delaying alongside Satoru who'd expressed his resonating curiosities, figuring out that the tiny, foreign woman he's with has briefly bounced on the soles of her feet, enfolding the Neko Stuff toy closer to you like you were starting to engage in a battle, "Excuse me---Is this another debate, you want?" 

Satoru blinked behind his Stygian sunglasses, pausing midway upon his drift away; his satirizing beams faltering before it grew into a wide, toothy grin that you've grown accustomed during the time being, "Hehe. Ting! Ting! Ting!" he pointed his fingers up above in steady counts to eulogize through your anticipations for his behaviors you've started to verse in, "---You got that correct! Hate to break this to ya' but I'm not backing down on this one. You're in for a verbal debate with the strongest!"

You've given him a grimace that has been purely frolicsome to begin with for his jocose altercations which always ends up in prolix piffles, "Eh! But, you never really do back down on our verbal debates anyway nor do you accept defeat! It's always an endless round!"

Tokyo Jujutsu High's ambiance was as hushed as it ever was. Satoru was roaring with laughter at his own childish witticisms that ensued to your own flounders. It was an interminable hooey that contradicted to your contretemps as you've both wandered further deep into Tokyo Jujutsu High. Footsteps going pit-a-pat as it lightly tapped along the nicely bricked built pavements. 

The cluster of your planned malarkeys were set to a stop. Your attentiveness stowed upon Satoru's fingers that kept tinkering inside his pocket as he was dragging on with his balderdash, not having the faintest that you were letting him win on this one. Well, he always insisted and have been stubborn to withhold his verbal triumphs. 

Once you were both situated under a tall, big, Japanese maple tree---being shut out by the heat of sunlight. Satoru had dug out his blindfolds from his pocket. The soft, Stygian fabric wafting through the borial breath of wind that drifted in definite directions, sheltered by the shade cloaking you from its shadows as you were both only a few meters away from the center of the wide-ranging institute. 

It was finally time-out.

"Satoru?~" you've accepted the paper bags in his hand when he'd outreached them out for you to take and finally give them all, lately fathoming how it was a plethora of his gratuity being given until they were all handled. Unbeknownst to you, the timbre lulling along the mere call of his name sounded utterly pulpous and benevolent. Unreasonably benign for Satoru to even give chaff to. All of a sudden, the flurry of air have been thawed for no reason; a reason that Satoru have been depriving himself upon perception. 

The white-haired Jujutsu Sorcerer felt the warm gust swallow him whole, kept inside the arcane notation he was having. An intonation he somehow found...saccharine. He haven't realized that he'd match up with your own pitch and eventually used the one that also made your toes sweaty and soles jittery, reciprocating what was being given as you've also felt the same way. 

"Yes, Tiny-Chan?~"

"You're putting the blindfolds back on now?" Thoroughly filled with artless curiosity, you've cocked your head to the sides, still wondering why the Sensei have been switching them from time to time and not having an ounce of knowledge regarding about the reason behind it; when he wears it or when he doesn't and why he wears it as well. 

This day had not been enough to read him through. Satoru Gojo is still an enigma; a paradox you've got yet to discover, a riddle you've needed to cudgel your brains out for this one. His background history entirely a closed-book needed to find the key to somewhere stowed away out there for you to hunt for.

Little did you know, it was also the same for you as for Satoru's perspective over the whole thing because your existence was one of the most difficult conundrums for the strongest. 

You were standing before him, utmost intrigued. Your childlike curiosity, a guileless flicker and dazzle within your eyes that surrounded you when you were gazing upon his face. Satoru knew you were engrossed over his presence. Though, he was oblivious to that heart beating within you. It skipped tethering, deafening beats when he'd sweep his sunglasses off his face in a slipshod manner. 

He'd blinded you with his beauty, rendering sightless for your surroundings and only to him, alone. Being immersed by the firmament he'd provided. The welkin you've started to traipse upon when you've fully had another chance of seeing the entirety of his face, without anything hindering Satoru's sight. 

It always leaves you in a magical reverie. How one can look utterly heavenly for a person to exist. He probably wasn't real. No man could be of paradise. You've rapidly blinked, packing up the daydream he has been pig-ignorant of---or he knew how the sum of his unhindered face alone could affect you in every way when you've gotten a gist of his wide, grin when you were distracted by appreciating Gojo Satoru in the flesh as he continued to yap. His hand holding onto his sunglasses while the other was his blindfolds. 

"Yep! I'm meeting with Principal Yaga and that old man anyways," he extolled with a shortened pause, perceiving a figure meters away without even bothering to turn his head to. It was beyond one for a normal person to know anyway who'd not been gifted by the six-eyes. Hence, this figure was Megumi Fushiguro, his first-year student based from his extrasensory perceptions. Satoru was having the best standpoint because there was no blockades over his sight now. "---I doubt they'll be asking about you yet because I made your presence utterly discrete for them to notice. Aren't I the best?" he yammered on, his succeeding sentences fading away in a whispered self-thought, "---Unless, Ijichi began to fink out in just a matter of hours..."

"Your eyes---," you've started off, mind in a state of stupefaction but also conscious of the veridicality that was guaranteed to slip through the tip of your tongue, the euphoria of your day fueling your heart into spouting reckless honesty that pledges to the confidence being consumed. 

Satoru was sharp-witted to cut you off with his witty, pompous remark. His grin growing wider like a Cheshire cat, "---are pretty. I know. There's no need for you to say it out loud. You should at least, humble me a little."

You've blinked another, shunning off to his haughtiness with absolute innocence that enveloped around you. A guileless spirit that girdled the emanations of this abrupt personality or response he'd created out of you from his unanticipated parade of his heavenly bare face.

"I wouldn't call it that way. It's pretty-basic. Hm. They're...a pair of spellbinding paradise, Satoru." A moment of pause. You've taken a calming breath out of your nose, smiling the brightest as you've dragged on. The end of your sentence being hummed while you've mused, thinking of better terms to get what was needed to be uttered out of nowhere, definitions that was certainly taken out of the dictionary to create a better meaning of the word 'beautiful'. 

"---Definitely too good to be true. If I could honestly assess them,"

Thus, the verity over your words---how you've run your mouth off for him, your reckless and impulsive honesty was a curse he would want to eradicate.

This felt more of a special grade malison or hoodoo than all those he had ever fought. 

"---I'm claiming it to be of stellar."

Blithesome whispered in the breeze. Satoru's white, luscious locks rippling through the zephyrs. His reticence imbibing the mellowness of the atmosphere; his taciturnity tumultuous for you to analyze on. A stifled smile forming the ends of your lips as you've went on with your candor. 

All words were put to a stop from your staggering speech with Satoru placing his sunglasses back inside his pockets. His own Sable blindfolds halting mid-way across his vision when you had to peek to the side, admiring how he was entirely a beauty created by the heavens. The genuineness unconfined from the glint in your eyes that the strongest had given a glimpse to, gaping through it all as if he was at a loss for words for the first time in forever. 

I know. It's the prettiest; basically the most beautiful out of all anyways. His dormant thoughts filled the empty ravines, ringing in nothing but hushed echoes that couldn't be uttered out of his boisterous mouth. 

That was what he wanted to say; that was what Satoru Gojo needed and supposed to proclaim out loud and not this shushed state he was currently in. 

Satoru couldn't get a grip on what he wanted to say as if his tongue has been cut-off all of a sudden. He couldn't believe it nor did he wanted to acknowledge or accept it that he couldn't retaliate from the words that left your mouth for the first time in his life; for the first damned moment in his life did he become soft---bashful over a cracker-barrel wisdom commented by a mere woman. This unidentified non-sorcerer who'd existed out of the blue during the heaps of calamity through the issues of the Jujutsu Society. 

A woman; one that was bound to experience such demise if she was not protected. 

Satoru blinked before you, caught in the wrong foot for hearing your sheer frankness that has possessed you in such a surprising time. His blindfolds already halfway through when he'd suddenly felt a rush of warmth spread across his face, one that comported himself into expressing a gape as he was concentrated over the fabric that drifted and went along with the breeze of the atmosphere out in Tokyo Jujutsu High. An annoying warmth that he wanted to slap himself on the face because it left him in a fit of pique, breaking from his tough masquerade and unveiling the empathetic sensitivity that begun to froth.

Damn it.

"Just wanna be frank this once since it'll serve as my gracious payment for today. An eye for an eye. Or must I say..." you've begun to trail off, getting a glimpse of the strongest appearing to be taken aback. Such an unforeseen position you've recognized him to be in. The utmost opposite of his usual demeanor that you had the opportunity to see; a remarkable occasion that nobody---no one had ever seen which emanated a warm beam that has spread across your face, summery than the sun can ever be.

"---An honest feedback for an honest feedback. Heehee! Enjoy those Ice Cream Mochis I made just for you, Satoru!" 

A stifled giggle went straight passed your lips with Satoru stopping on his tracks and actions. Gathering all the paper bags on one hand with your giant Neko stuff toy in the other, you've taken one bounce in place, exerting effort and a succeeding audible huff before turning upon the heels of your feet, evacuating from Satoru's presence when the cognizance of your own actions begun to thwack you in the face. 

"---Bye-bye!" you immediately exclaimed your regards, knowing well now where his dormitory was and what building it is within the institute. Though, the locations you were only habituated of had been his room, the kitchen and what particular classroom does he teaches with his students. Other than that, the institute was still a whole mystery for how far-reaching it felt like it was. 

All your hands were full and it was hilarious for anyone to see. You've hugged all the gifts and prizes to yourself, briskly walking away with a suppressing giggle when you haven't heard a word from Satoru nor did he have the short time to respond. Before you could actually say knife, you had already turned your heels in the midst of darting away from the whammy he was in. 

Much to both of your stupefied predicaments, Satoru kept track upon your sprint. Mouth still bizarrely zipped. His stellar eyes stuck on you alone. A gesture that have been an essential nature he'd hardly regarded until this exact moment where the heat felt too palpable to restrain from, a harrowing concern that leaves him overwrought, "---Oh, take care and be safe! Thank you so much for today!"

Take care. Be safe. Thank you so much.

Satoru Gojo felt the heat rise to his face, further and further through chasmic gaps. Free-flowing towards chasms he never expected to. Parts of his face that weren't meant to take a tour. Last time he'd checked as he bore in mind, the Special Grade Jujutsu Sorcerer hadn't remembered a time nor a split second where he had heard such compassion, genuine care and appreciation which fostered him during a day as if he was meant to be treasured, someone who was human and not as some weapon or armament to be used to.

The man never did remember. He tried to summoned up all moments but ended up reminiscing on nothing other than the care he'd accumulated from both of his closest friends who knew him better from the bottom of his heart. 

Because being the strongest meant he had everything worked out; being the invincible meant that he was to be regardful of everything to the point of nursing for himself, mindful that no matter how many allies you've got, if a Jujutsu Sorcerer dies then he or she dies alone. It was an inevitable chore from the day he was born to his world to claim the supremacy of what his real abilities hold for him. How his birth played a vital role in the evolution of the Jujutsu Society. 

Hence, hearing the tenderhearted words chanted out of your mouth in the most genuine timbre he'd heard has set him off in an unfamiliar demeanor he never expected. 

"Eh? T-Tiny-Chan! Come back! I still have something to say!" 

Satoru heard himself well and clear. Did he just stammer a little over your sudden flowery truth? Those paltry adulations that has been unlooked for, igniting a prompting speech impediment over him when it wasn't meant to happen anyways. 

"Your chatters are endless! There's never a time you've got nothing to say!"

That's not true. He'd heard his innermost thoughts reiterated for himself, taking all the exuberance you were offering and the existent portrait you were welcoming him with. He'd become aware and caught sight over that faint wave of your hand that settled around Neko-San, apparently its giant size were burdensome enough to flaunt the simplest gestures because of the plethora of gifts equipped within the bundle of your arms. 

"---Stop being lazy and go where ever it is you're needed to be. Bye!"

As expected, Fushiguro was in repose as he divagated within the expanse of the institution. The inheritor of the Ten Shadows Technique had an apathetic expression on his face when you've passed by him, eyeing everything what you were holding to yourself. He hadn't been given the opportunity to see your face nor did he see that you were peeking through the arm of your soft toy when you acknowledged his presence.

"Sea-Urchin!---I mean, Hi, Megumi!" 

Megumi scrutinized your form through his thick eyelashes, giving a second of incertitude before he responded with a stolic tonality of his voice, giving you a slight bow of recognition once he ceased from his deliberate wanders. Even through a distance, he was aware that you were with Gojo. Obviously. The black-haired Jujutsu Sorcerer witnessing those melodious giggle he subtly heard from a distance. The tiny hops with every step you've taken as you've drifted away from his Sensei who hollered out loud for you to come back, making the first-year student critically assess what was happening. 

"Eigo-San." Fushiguro apathetically regarded, continuously straight-faced. 

Once you were far enough, your figure miniscule to be detected from the position that they were in. He'd approached Gojo, assessing through the glance he'd given to his Sensei who was aimlessly fondling with his Stygian blindfold grazing around the tips of his fingers, not knowing what his expressions was as it was apathetic nor indistinguishable. The teacher's countenance inscrutable, giving little away. 

Satoru knew Megumi was around the corner and had to at least grab a hold of himself after that abrupt honesty you have given him. 

"Gojo-Sensei," Fushiguro acknowledged the teacher. Satoru's bare face par for the course of Megumi's anticipations because the first year knew already how he looked like with or without the blindfolds on unlike the previous first years---who were now second years---had no idea prior to that particular day on how Gojo appeared to look like without it when he managed to blow the gaff over the eyes he masked. 

"Oh, Megumi!" Satoru stated with a smile plastered on his face, warm and cordial for his student. He'd veiled his previous pneuma deftly. He cloaked in the frontage he usually had with his students. He'd begun to tie his blindfolds back, wringing a hand through the fluff of his locks with the spaces of his fingers, going over his forehead and through his hair being arranged in barbs with the undercut shown against the nape of his neck as he did so.

"Did you enjoy the day with Eigo-San?"

The lids of Gojo's eyes began to nictate through the fabric that concealed his eyes. Megumi's precipitated query making him wonder why he was being asked by a question that was obviously out of the box to begin with from the juvenile who was always outwardly stoic and calculating. 

"Huh? What's with the sudden question?" he blinked another through the clothing that covered his eyes. Megumi avoided his gaze and also had been like he dwelled from the abrupt question he had given, wondering why he even had to ask. The first- year probably regretted it as well when Gojo abruptly began to poke borak over a mere question that should've been out of his concerns. He grinned from ear to ear, instantly stepping a foot forward to clung an arm around the student's shoulders with a grin.

"---Had you missed me then?!"

"I knew I shouldn't have asked. It's a personal question anyway. Tch." Fushiguro deadpanned and grumbled, scowling to himself and wondering why Gojo ignored the subject, looking as though he was desisting from a simple inquiry that was answerable by a yes or no. At the same time, his first-year student was pulling out all the stops for the tight, lanky arm that clutched around his shoulders, "Oi, Megumi-Kun!" Satoru tauntingly chided, chuckling here and there before his student's lackadaisical honesty made him inquisitive about what he really wanted to say for the second time around.

"I already know the answer, Sensei. That's good to hear. Y-You need to stop wrestling me around now." 

Fushiguro elucidated out of nowhere, huffing out an exasperated breath when Gojo began to tussle him over like a kid and dragged him to anywhere he wanted. Obviously, the black-haired student was opposed to the confining space that his Sensei was giving him. Megumi's face unexpressive nor could he know what he was thinking from his own analytics other than a deepened grimace that Satoru habitually sees every day. 

"The answer to what? I didn't even said anything! Huh?" Gojo ceased the scuffles he was giving to Megumi. The first year peeved to the bones when he'd taken a hand to stressfully scratch along the back of his head, a deep frown of annoyance as he sighed out an audible breath of exasperation once he was out of the Sensei's hold. 

Little did Gojo know, his ears and cheeks had a tint. It emancipated hues of crimson that were a perpetual undertone which he was unheeded for when you've taken your flight before Megumi could even put one's oar to whatever it is you were having with the Special Grade Jujutsu Sorcerer. Those tinge of warmth that enveloped in mantled shadows no matter how Gojo endeavored the guise he tried to play. 

That particular eccentric, warmth throwing him off, unrecognizable for the emotions he ignored once Megumi have been on sight. He had never been aware of it nor did he perceive that he was experiencing one. Yet, his first year student found it utterly peculiar for such an odd image of his Sensei seeming to be in a flustered state that had to be too good to be true and difficult to process for those who were accustomed to the usual spirits that Satoru provided for them. 

If Megumi was an idiot, he would've blamed the sun that has probably given Gojo that strange flush over his face, the scarlet hues that gathered in trails over his own skin. 

But, he believed he wasn't a halfwit or a simpleton as he claimed how his two friends were. Let alone, including the Sensei's ignorance through it all. 

Hey, it's Tata! We can talk if ya' want or be added in the 7th Dimension taglist~ Just send an ask if ya' want to! Stay hydrated all the time and I hope you're having a great day ahead!

SEND AN ASK (LINK)

Much love,

Tata XoXo

[bobtheacorn]

WIP progress tag game

RULES: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

*LAUGHS IN PAIN* Since I have over 300 WIPS across multiple fandoms, I’ll only tag the ones I am like Actively Picking at in some capacity, otherwise we will be here for an eternity and a half! TY @just-another-dreamerr for the tag! FYI this is why I don’t get Shit done half the time…. It’s the ADHD alright! Judgement-free zone! Lmao

RISE TMNT

alleviate the symptoms

APRITELLO WEEK WADDUP

august moonrise

brumation _ apritello qpr

there is light _ bad timeline future!leo

witches hold grudges apparently

03 _ rainy day _ grave visit

04 _ Usagi bonds w Leo’s brothers

05 _ potentially messy

06 _ everything always comes out in the wash

_ baby blue n purple rain shenanigans misc

_ creatures of habit

_ the sharp, sweet taste

_ i go there with you misc

LUCA

_ the Tyrrhenian Sea

_ pyrenees

summer 64 _ colors and constellations

summer 64 _ a sky full of stars

VLD / KLANCE

Keith/Allura/Lance platonic survivor fic

arrows shot into the horizon

DEMON SLAYER

little tempers to quell and small hands to hold

ATLA

moon-touched

platonic fake dating zukka

TAZ BALANCE

every soul accounted for

THE HOBBIT / TOLKIEN

Erebor; the Journey home; and After

more fair than mortal tongue can tell

ONE PIECE

_ post wano lawlu

consequences

i recall a SMILE _ film red

the one where Law is dying and Luffy tries to same him anyway

wild with younger hearts

twists unpleasantly

Usopp values discretion. and his life

ORIGINAL STUFF

an unreachable ocean of light

It takes 67 hours to drive from Tennessee to Alaska. Ask me how I know

if there isn’t a wedding or a funeral then it just isn’t southern

space romance odyssey

what to do with the body _ sci-fi misc

the witch au which is not an au

dragons and lesbians

to maunder

APHELANDRA

shadows taller than our souls

I do Not have the energy to tag this many ppl sorry for being lame but my phone is being a nightmare rn and posting it is all I can do Lmao. I know I got moots that write also so if u see this do it!! MWA!!

[spider-haven444]

Infestissumam Review Blog!! (a simple one at that)

Hi there! im Spider_Haven, and I am here to talk about my favorite album! Today, i am here to talk about Ghost's Infestisumam. (mixed by Nick Rasculinecs, ) (Preformed by Papa Emertius II and a group of Nameless Ghouls) Can we just rave about how amazing, this album is? I cannot be more ecstatic to talk about it. We begin with the beautifully haunting TRACK, Infestisumam The beginning of the songs vocals that just lead to the powerful instrumental, and guitar it is just so moving. As if one into battle. i enjoy how it goes into our next beloved track... Per Aspera An Inferi.. the way it feels when listening to it, is amazingly trippy. I simply implore the 60s trippy, and renaissance vibes i feel on this track... let Alone the whole album! it feels so strong with its sounds, and filled with stride! Truly a classic. Secular Haze, also featured on If You Have Ghost, has a dark, carnival, and evil feel. Definitely one to remember, with the beginning lyrics. One can faithfully say, that papa can beyond any doubt, can summon the fog weaver. Now, another classic. Jigolo Har Megiddo. Now, this song without fail, is catchy. One simply can feel the atmosphere fill with vile delight, as we here Papa sing, in the most pacifying way, sing so seductively. Like many of Ghosts songs, this also sounds bewildering.. Now to talk about an paradigmatic song in my opinion.. Ghuleh/Zombie Queen. I am one to believe, that many Ghost fans, can agree how beautiful this entire track is. It is so somber, and sweet sounding in the beginning. I have confidence to say, hearing this for the first time when i first got into Ghost, it was utterly breath talking, how it transitioned to such a dominate piece such as Zombie Queen. Year Zero, is one i think many fans like to hear.. How striking it begins with the vocals, (i enjoy the vocals in Ghost, they truly are mesmerizing!!!! I will more then likely, always maunder about how much i enjoy hearing them, and Papa sing.. The way it ends with such a somber, somewhat nostalgic renaissance feel... Hail Satan! For Body and Blood, i can not rave more over how groovy this song is, and just makes me want to dance!! Totally, a song to remember, and one to get down dirty with.. Idolatrine, is also a favorite of mine on this album. How can it not? it is catchy, and all i can think of the terrific evil vibes i get from it! I could listen to it all day if I could. Don't look into the Depth of Satans Eyes.. for you truly will be entranced by this track! It is a wonderful depiction of Classic Sixties music, and the keyboard in it is absolutely wild! I cannot get over it. Can you hear, the Monstrance Clock? I do! A wonderful way to end such a great Album, when i first heard this song, i couldn't get enough. the way Papa sings is absolutely soul stirring... The way he performs it, is one to hear in awe! the way it pauses before 'As the parish sighs in smoke Enters lady, revealed of cloak To the haunting sound of the monstrance clock Singing' is so heart stopping... ' How thrilling!!!

Now we move onto Our hidden tracks, if you have the Cd Deluxe! But you can also find the tracks online, so don't worry if you don't have the deluxe album! :) La Montra Mori.. Such a spooky, yet beautiful song. it is one to entice! Or just lure you into that beautiful sound, and peaceful feeling it brings.. This is one of my few, top songs on this album for sure. Now,, of Course how can we forget??? For all... Papa is just a little marionette.. Im a Marionette, also featured on the If you Have Ghost album, is so moving.. and melancholy. One that could be soothing to some! It i would say, is also one that many fans can enjoy.

[pink-nasa]

My thoughts on Catherine are.... complicated. On one hand I adore the game, it's aesthetics, it's story and characters. On the other, its handling of gnc and transgender characters is,, funky.

I kinda wish that they'd added two new routes, that way Vincent COULD both end up as MLM or fall in love with a transwoman whose given respect. Maybe Qatherine could've been a confirmed transwoman, and we could also have Rin who presents totally as male so we wouldn't get tr@p jokes?

I think that a story where it's between Qatherine, a transwoman with amnesia would loves and doesn't put any pressure on Vincent to become someone or something he's not vs Katherine, a stable, strong, orderly and traditional relationship vs Catherine, a free spirited, chaotic, off the rails romance vs Rin a new and freeing person who helps Vincent throughout the other romances while also falling in love with him, and Vincent realizing that he's bi/pan/whatever and ending up with him. I feel like that could've been more compelling, while also being more Queer friendly.

I love this game, I just don't agree with some of its narrative sometimes :/

[brainbashin]

Merry Christmas!!! or if you dont celebrate it, happy holidays !!! did you get any gifts? I hope so! btw i love the aestethic of your blog, its relaxing to my tired eyes, black n red its a good match! ✨

oh my goodness, thank you so much!! happy holidays to you as well, my dear anonymous. i got some money, so that’s pretty lovely. i hope you got gifts yourself.

also thank you very much, i am glad you think so!! you are very sweet. i tried to keep it dark because it’s best for when all the lights are off lol.

[terraclae]

I love taking a migraine nap and waking up to good updates but also the only thing that really first registered was “give your dragons a broadcast message”

[hollandsangel]

we need a milf reader x tom where dads are ogling at her

pls and thank you

i was truly obsessed with this concept it was so cute and fun to write

shameless | tom holland

gif by @thollandgifs !

it’s late evening. tom had gotten off work a little later than usual, and you’d taken your time eating dinner together before wandering to the grocery store for the week's shop. 

the store is relatively empty, considering the hour, and it’s the picture of peace as you walk leisurely down the aisles with your hand in one of tom’s, the basket hanging from his other arm.

“okay,” you begin, holding up a small slip of paper littered with tom’s messy handwriting, “we’ve got the eggs, almond milk, peaches…” you’re mumbling to yourself as you check things off the list, and tom is watching you intently, smiling as he observes you. “oh! we need to get some more of those cookies, the little ones with the…the…” you snap your fingers, trying to remember.

tom quirks a brow, “the fudge ones?”

“yes! those ones.” you nod, looking over to search the shelves for the familiar box.

“i thought you didn’t like them?” his brows furrow together, reminiscing on a time when you forced the box away from you, hardly able to handle the scent.

“well i guess the baby changed their mind.” you shrug, rubbing a hand over your swollen belly with a hum.

tom looks down, admiring the action you do so absently now, without as much as a thought. he shifts the basket into the crook of his elbow to free his own hand, joining you in the soothing motion. he can’t help but grin, over taken with joy at the reminder that you’re carrying his child, that in a few more weeks, you’ll be parents. he leans in and presses his soft lips to your temple. you hum in acceptance.

down the aisle, tom catches the maundering stare of man about his age glued to your body. you’re wearing a loose knit sweater under your trench coat, but with your due date growing nearer, you show through most of your clothes. tom hardens his gaze at the man, who is shameless in his ogling of you. it makes his skin crawl.

“c’mon love,” he tugs on your hand, his eyes forward, “i think they’re in the next aisle.” he doesn’t really know, but he can’t stand the hungry look being shot at you, so he pulls you away, pressing himself closer and glaring at the bloke as you pass him. 

“are you okay?” your sweet voice pulls him back to you, expression matching your tone when he meets your eyes.

“yeah, m’ okay.” he nods, pecking your cheek to further his point.

“mmk,” you hum, “what flavour of protein bars did you want, lovie? you didn’t write it on the list…tom?”

“what the fuck?” he mutters, head turning as another man eyes your form.

“excuse me?” you remark incredulously.

“baby, we gotta go.” with a bit too much urgency, tom tugs your hand, and the waddle you have to do to keep up with him must look ridiculous.

“tom, tom, slow down, pregnant lady here.” you remind him, still as confused as ever, “what’s wrong?”

“oh, shit, sorry, love,” he seems to calm, “are you alright?” and there he is again, your attentive, loving husband.

“yes, i’m fine, are you okay?

he huffs and looks around. you’re in the health food aisle now, and it seems pretty vacant, “these men keep looking at you, darling, like they want to fucking ravish you.” he explaims in a hushed voice, seriousness crawling amongst each word.

you laugh, and tom pulls back.

“y/n,” he says sternly, “i’m serious.”

“i know,” you giggle, “that’s why it’s so funny.” with a squeeze of his hand you release it, moving yours up to his shoulder instead, “why does it matter?”

tom seems almost offended by this question, “because you’re my wife?” he says, as if the answer should be incredibly obvious, “and it’s weird to look at a pregnant woman, who is clearly in a relationship, so shamelessly??”

you can’t bite back your laugh any longer, and it tumbles out when you shake your head and pat his cheek, “you’re ridiculous and cute. go get your protein bars, doof.”

[captainwans]

TREACHERY.

— RAFE CAMERON

pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!fem! reader

summary: y/n faces the aftermath of john b’s disappearance, and rafe doesn’t make the situation better.

warning: traumatized reader, lots of angst, cursing, mentions of death and loss, mentions of anxiety disorders, and all the feels. this is a sad one, y’all.

word count: 2,2k | ( gif not mine! )

masterlist!

[Y/N] WIPED THE COUNTER IN FRONT OF HER AS SHE DOZED OFF, her mind wandering into a melancholic state as she reminisced the past events that kept haunting her. Losing John B into the storm was something she couldn’t comprehend yet, not when it recently just happened. She went into complete denial with her best friend being gone, blocking every negative emotion inside her body whilst she went back to her usual routine. Her heart was slowly and painfully crumbling, weakening with every second that went by but she wasn’t ready to break. Her friends were worried, especially JJ, who has been watching her carefully with concerned eyes and been by her side ever since it occurred, but she simply brushed them off and lied through her gritted teeth, and went on with her days.

A snap from her co-worker’s finger pulled her out of her thoughts, bringing her back to reality. She gripped on the cloth, the tight grip making her knuckles almost white. She looked at them with a tip-lipped smile. “W-What’s up, Claire?” she said in a soft tone, her voice wavering a bit as she wiped the table one last time.

Claire was an absolute sweetheart and adored [Y/N] to pieces, not caring that she was a Pogue. She found the young woman incredibly hard-working and loved her like she was her own. [Y/N] tried to return the gesture, but she found it hard to believe that a Kook offered her a job and actually liked her since she’s so used to them disliking her. To this day, she felt cautious of her act of kindness, but she tried to remind herself that not all Kooks were snobby and rude.

Claire mirrored her smile, placing a hand on her shoulder, “Table four wants to order. Could you cover for me? I need to make an important phone call.” she asked, her emerald eyes gazing into hers as she gave her a sheepish simper.

[Y/N] stopped wiping, her gaze searching through the crowdy room before landing on the group of people she loathed the most. She could feel her heart soar against her chest, a wave of uneasiness bubbling up to the surface. A crimson painted her cheeks once she locked eyes with Rafe, her eyes glowering with disgust and abhor. She quickly turned her head and looked back at Claire, giving her a simple nod before grabbing a note and a pen.

Rafe clenched his jaw, watching how she neared their table with a vacant expression etched onto her delicate features. His feet were tapping aggressively as he looked at the menu in front of him, his mind maundering a thousand miles per hour. Topper and Kelce dragged him into it, wanting him so badly to get out of his house and mentioning how they missed having a day with the three of them.

“Dude, you okay?” Kelce asked, his eyes clouding with a tint of concern. Rafe looked up from his menu, his slightly wide eyes gazing down from him to Topper, who looked at him with a confused look. He cleared his throat, wiping his face with his hand and nodded, brushing them off with a hand gesture.

“I’m fine, just tired, that’s all.” He lied, rubbing the back of his neck. Before the pair could say something, [Y/N] stood in front of their table, with a pen ready to write down their order. Rafe bit the insides of his cheeks, his glistening face illuminating from the sunlight as his eyes gazed down to the table.

“You guys wanted to order?” Her sweet-honey voice filled his ears, making him look up from the table to meet her eyes, but her gaze was on the paper instead. Topper shifted awkwardly in his seat, not expecting her. He ended up responding with a simple ‘yes’ and gave her a small smile.

With Kelce taking the lead, [Y/N] scribbled down their order and Rafe noticed her trembling hands making him bite his lip, his guilt eating him from the inside as his mind started to drift. She let out a sigh, swallowing a lump forming in her throat. As she was about to leave their table, voices from her customers made her froze in her spot.

“I’m glad John B is gone. That’s what he deserves for being a murderer. I mean, what would you expect? It’s always some god damn Pogue.” They voiced out, making a few nod their heads at their statement as multiple customers started to join in.

[Y/N] turned her head at them, her teary eyes gazing down at them with such much hatred. A burning pain prickled at her chest, squeezing her heart with every breath she took. Rafe’s jaw clenched, his eyes looking at the waitress who was glued to her spot, her shaky grip on the notebook tightly clasped in her hands.

“Right? Would you believe the Pogues blamed Rafe Cameron for killing the sheriff? I mean, that’s so fucked up.” They said, their voices lacing with disgust. She scoffed, her eyes getting slightly blurry from her tears. She licked her lips, her jaw tightly clutched as she tried to compose herself.

[Y/N] left their table and headed to the counter, blocking the comments and trying to get on with her day. Only 30 minutes left, she reminded herself and grabbed the plates, and headed over to another table. She could feel multiple eyes on her, some looking at her with disdain and others with pity. But she ignored them, placing the food on the table with a fake smile.

“Finally! We’ve been waiting for hours. You need to quicken your pace, Pogue. You’re in Figure 8. God, why did they even hire you?” they whined, scooting their chair away from her. Her breath hitched and she closed her eyes, her hands forming into a fist.

[Y/N] could feel her body betraying her because the next thing she did was slam their drinks on the table, making the glass break into small pieces piercing through her skin. Crimson blood trickled down her arm as she inched her face closer to them, her eyes glaring daggers at them. Their eyes screamed terror, a wave of fear engulfing them as their mouth was glued shut.

“You keep your mouth fucking shut, Kook! All of you!” She snapped, standing up and pointing a finger to all of them who talked down on John B. The room went silent, even Topper and Kelce stopped their conversation and looked at [Y/N] like she had grown two heads. Rafe’s eyes welled up, the tears blinding his vision but he vigorously blinked them away. He looked down at his hands, watching how they shook and he closed his eyes.

“John B didn’t murder anyone. He’s fucking innocent, is that so hard for you to see? It was Rafe Cameron who killed the sheriff. Him.” She argued, pointing a finger at Rafe who was frozen in his seat, his heart clenching as he looked at her with what seemed like a guilty look, but she couldn’t tell.

Kelce shook his head, turning his head to Rafe before standing up from his seat, giving her a glare. “Stop with all the lies, [Y/N]. It’s-” he interjected, but was quickly interrupted by her shouts of demands. “Shut up, Kelce. You don’t get to say shit. Say another fucking word about him, all of you, I will-”

“You will what? Sue us? You’re the Pogue, sweetheart.” One of the customers butted in, their amusement showing through making her close her mouth. Her shoulders dropped, a look of hopelessness clouding her face. She scoffed, nodding to herself, and walked towards the entrance, ready to get the hell out of here. She took off her apron and left it at the table just as Claire came into her view, her worried eyes taking in her form.

“Shit, [Y/N], your hand. Let me take a look.” She said in a gentle tone, making tears well up in her eyes, but she shook her head and shrugged off her hand, and left the restaurant. She used both of her hands to open the door, the sudden strength making Rafe’s heart churn.

Her breathing got more shallow and heavy as she walked over to a parking lot. She held a hand over her throat, clutching it tightly. She let out a whimper, panting heavily as she crumbled to the ground. A heavy feeling settled into her chest, the dark cloud entering her body as she slipped. Her breaths came in gasps, vigorously hitting her chest as tears slid down her pink cheeks.

[Y/N] let out a gut-wrenching sob, not being able to hold onto her grief and agony she bottled up inside. She covered her face with her shaky hands, rocking herself back and forth as she cried for her friend, and herself. Some people who were walking near the area couldn’t help but look, giving her pity looks but she didn’t care.

Rafe bolted up from his seat and dashed over to the door, ignoring his friends’ pleads. His eyes squinted at the sun blinding him. He let out a shaky sigh, his hand shielding him from the light. His stomach churned, his face frowning at the sight in front of him. He took hesitant steps, his eyes never leaving her.

Her shortness of breath ceased and she removed her hands from her face before leaning her head backward with her eyes closed. She let out a tired sigh, feeling her muscles sore and tense, making her grimace. She wiped her eyes with her palm, sniffling before she slowly stood up. She felt his presence behind her, but she shook her head. “You happy?”

Rafe gulped, his teary eyes gazing at her back. He shook his head even though her back was facing him. “[Y/N], I-” he croaked out, his words wobbling. He walked closer but held a good amount of distance between them when he came closer.

“You got what you wanted, Cameron. He’s gone. John B is gone because of you! And even your god damn sister, Rafe.” She shouted and turned around, making him flinch.

Rafe brushed a hand over his mouth, his glistening eyes mirroring hers. He could feel his throat closing up and he didn’t want to speak, knowing that he will break so he decided to seal his mouth shut instead.

[Y/N] ran a hand over her hair, shaking her head as she mumbled incoherent things. Her chin trembled like a child, the desire to be in the arms of her friends increasing every minute. Guilt engulfed her, feeling bad for shutting down her friends. They only looked out for her, and what did she do? Brushing them off and ignoring them.

Rafe inched closer, his chest tightening at her taking a few steps back. He shook his head, bringing out his hand out, but she slapped it away before it could touch her. “No, stay the fuck back, Rafe.” she squeaked, looking at him with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry.” he managed to let out, his voice quivering at the end. She paused, a look of disbelief plastered onto her face. She narrowed her eyes at him, making him almost squirm at her stare.

“You’re sorry? You’re fucking sorry, is that all you have to say?” she said, her voice cracking. She let out a dry chuckle, “Fuck, Rafe! I trusted you. I fucking trusted you!” She exploded, her tears tracing down her cheeks, but she quickly wiped them.

Rafe closed his eyes, feeling anger bubbling up inside of him. “I did it for my dad, okay?!” He snapped, his eyes glowering. He shifted his body to the side, bringing both of his hands to his face “I-,uh, I needed him to see that I was-”

“God, just stop with that bullshit, Rafe! Ward doesn’t love you. You didn’t do him a favor and made him proud. He’s a piece of shit and a manipulator who has you wrapped around his little finger.” [Y/N] exclaimed, looking at him with a glare.

Rafe’s shoulders hunched. He shook his head, her words being repeated into his brain like a mantra. A wave of tension entered his body, making him almost gasp for air. His eyebrows knitted together, “Y-You don’t mean that.”

“I do.” She said, her voice emotionless. She came closer and jabbed a finger into his chest, “You caused this. This is your fault, Rafe, and now you lost me. I don’t wanna see you, hear you, talk to you, and I don’t even wanna look at you.” She spat, sniffling. She whimpered, biting her lip as she looked at him, watching how his face fell.

Rafe could only look at her, his mouth being unable to utter a single word as her last words took a great tremor for him. His breathing became heavy and he felt her words stabbing him like a knife was being held over a fire.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, watching her body turning away from him and leaving him on the spot. A scream tore out from his throat. Tears flooded down like waterfall as he choked on his sobs. He fucked up, again. And he couldn’t make it up to her, never.

[danddymaro]

Denial | Leone Abbacchio x Reader

SMUT : Cockwarming / Edging

1% fluff?

word count :  1225

Denial

His glowing golden eyes remained closed, the weight on his lap being so comforting to him that it brought him a pleasant peace that was almost unmatched, and that in the past had been unimaginable.

The sweet warmth of the woman that claimed the spot over his thighs left him with a serenity he hadn't thought possible before, but existed now, and it was something he never wanted to let escape.

‘(f/n)’ He thought to himself, all while her heavenly scent was breathed in.

A soft, light smile pulled at his lips as he enjoyed all the warmth the (h/c) haired young woman provided him, starting from the familiar, tender affection that came from having her chin leaned onto his shoulder, to the delightful heat that had hungerly sunken onto his hardened length and now enveloped him.

During his musing, a tiny, feeble whine then caught his attention, and subtly, her hips moved, the action stopped as he placed both of his hands at her waist, keeping her still from the moment.

"(F/n)…" he murmured, warning in his tone as one of his golden eyes snapped open, soon narrowed down to her and her shaken form with annoyance for selfishly disturbing his serenity.

As he caught sight of her, he watched as her lips were pouted, the sweet-tasting mouth trembling with want, silently begging for stray kisses from his purple-tinted ones. (E/c) colored eyes also sent him plea, the wide-opened orbs reflecting back his own image which showed a complete contrast to her.

While she was nearly on the verge of tears, he stayed steady, his chin tilted up as he enjoyed using her, much more, being the one in control.

"L-Leone…" she whimpered, relentlessly squirming, the movement being an action that defied him yet again. And he was certain that if her hands weren't tied to her back, she'd have them running over his chest, desperate to convince him, using her lithe body to try and seduce him, doing anything she could to get him to cave.

A warm, low breath then escaped him, and the two hands that held her released her suddenly, letting her continue to wiggle, the action disappointing him furthermore, drawing out a rather low blow of air from his chest.

Yet, rather than lose his composure, he seemed very unaffected and calmed, his right hand reaching over to the small table at his side where his half-empty wine glass sat. Calmly, he raised it up to his lips, ignoring her enlarged, wet (e/c) orbs all the while.

He then took a slow sip of the well-aged alcoholic drink and at that moment his other hand moved, cutting through the air with a wicked viciousness.

A high-pitched squeal then covered up the sound of the harsh clash, her body raked with shutters by the impact before all of her movements ceased, not wanting more reprisal.

And at that very second, his lips curled into a dastardly grin,

"Stay still." He nearly sang, the hot stinging spot on her ass sweetly caressed by the same assaulting hand not a moment after to remind her that he wasn't all that evil.

Truth be told, he was only his sweetest with her.

"B-but Leone…" she said again, her naked breasts tightly pressed to his torso, the exposed portion of his chest coming in contact with her heated flesh, making her feel even more desperate as she felt his strong body pressed to her softer one.

"Please...f-fuck me… I can't… " she whimpered shamelessly, having been put through the torture for far too long. 

She felt complete, yet incomplete all the same and it was a horrible feeling that left her desperate and quivering. The thickness that stretched her had shaped her to the generous girth, but did nothing more than that, leaving her begging for so much more she knew he was capable of,

" Please," she muttered while pressing her lips onto his neck, panting roughly as he murmured her name in the same thick voice he did whenever they made love.

He then teased her with a very lax, almost non-existent thrust upward, forcing a thick mewl to escape her, the sound leaving her in the most lecherous way it could, further shaming her.

A moan of his own was suppressed into a small hum as he felt her walls tighten, responding back with a sweet hug.

The metal cuffs that held her stung the skin of her wrist as her arms had instinctively aimed to wrap around his neck, and it hurt her heart more than anything to be denied the true warmth of his body.

It was then that she began to cry, her quivering legs that hung at his sides wanting to wrap around his waist, but staying still, her will existent, yet slowly diminishing.

- She didn't mean to move, she hadn’t intended to ruin his moment of quiet bliss, but it was torture.

His lips then smacked against each other, " You keep moving, " he complained, tipping over what was left of his drink over her sweet lips, adding more flavor to the delicious flesh in doing so.

Trails of dark red flowed down her chin, falling down her chest and spilling over her body, the burning flesh lightly cooled down by the beverage,

"See? " he asked her, "You made me spill it," he said accusingly, darkly chuckling while she panted even more, his name falling out of her mouth in a way that sounded both edged and needy as well as annoyed by his denial of her.

"-Silly girl," he murmured, his tongue lapping at the sweet alcoholic flavor that fell over her lips and chin, shamelessly cleaning it all, "Clumsy...silly… disobedient...selfish girl." He maundered with mirth while trailing his wet muscle down her chin.

Moaning, she inclined her head back, pushing out her chest as well while his two arms were wrapped around her to make sure she didn't fall back during the action.

She gave him full access to her body, hoping it made up for all of her impatience, demonstrating to him that all in all she was always willing to give in.

"Can we...now? " she asked airily. "Please...Imperatore" she mewled out, and at the address, his hold tightened before he took a quick nip at the sweet flesh that was pressed to his lips.

-If there was anything that broke him down, it was the title being used in such a sweet and hungry manner that wasn’t touched by any bit of shame as she’d far gone the point where dignity had any meaning.

‘There’s nothing you wouldn’t do for me,’ He thought to himself, ‘There’s no where you’d rather be,’ He went on, 

‘I Love you too...even if you’re impatient...’ He mused before skipping over her puckered lips, moving to give her a sweet kiss on the forehead, 

' Really…' he mused while considering her plea, 'I just love seeing you like this,' he mused, watching her whither and shrink, the wait having become unbearable for her.

‘You can’t even think of anything else beside me , can you?’ He thought to himself, knowing her mind was riddled with him.

"-Mmm…" he seemed to contemplate the idea before he chuckled, the low rumble doing nothing more than weakening her furthermore,

" I don't think so."

I drifted off near the end, cause truth be told, I didn't know how to end it.