#this is pointless but it brings me joy so
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danhalen · 8 months ago
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the little animal emojis remind me so much of sandylion stickers and i want to put them on everything
🫎🦎🦖🦕🐢🐊🐍🐖🐇🐁🐀🐈🐈‍⬛🐩🐕🦮🐕‍🦺🫏🐎🐄🐂🐃🦬🐏🐑🐐🦌🦙🦥🦘🐘🦣🦏🦛🦒🐆🐅🐒🦍🦧🐪🐫🐿️🦫🦨🦡🦔🦦🦇🐦🐦‍⬛🐓🐔🐣🐤🐥🦅🦉🦜🕊️🦤🦢🦆🪿🦩🦚🐦‍🔥🦃🐧🦭🦈🐬🐋🐳🐟🐠🐡🦐🦞🦀🦑🐙🪼🦪🪸🦂🕷️🪰🪳🦟🪲🦗🐜🐌🐝🐞🦋🐛🪱🦠
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szappan · 2 months ago
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idk if this would be helpful to you but how about. you pick your fave 5 letters. then make up a thesis statement/question/thing that stars with each of thise 5 letters. and then make a poll and have people vote on it? not the same as getting assigned something specific but it might give you direction. in case you dont have any favourite letters here are my 10 top 10 if you want more examples 1. j 2. e 3. o 4. g 5. d 6. b 7. i 8. l 9. z 10. u
if this isnt totally your thing and youre not interest u dont have to reply i just thought maybe u need a nudge like this :-)
augh this is brilliant thank you my friend ill give this a spin :-) those are very good letters indeed!! thank you for your help, getting peer reviewed should be very useful, so ill think about those statements now!
#ive had a pretty good idea since before i started at university and i could've been getting paid for it all this time if i wasn't busy doing#the érettségi before the application deadline so i never pursued it because also the more i thought about it the more pointless it seemed#but i just said to my mum 'the romans brought christianity to the british isles' and she said 'huh?' and then she said that i dont have to#write a phd right now and i can just compare the texts im thinking about and that'll be plenty i dont have to do the history of them#and that does seem more doable. and i can bring india into it and also the shakers. and that should tide me over#but i hate my own writing so much i cant make myself not sound capricious in my essays and i get hung up on technicalities all the time#and then inevitably do stupid wordplay and get all coy with it. i just need to be genuine about it and write about this thing and that's it#and i need to email boldizsár. sorry boldizsár i have all sorts of things i hope you're not tired of me#but also i have tons of ideas but when i start to think whether they could work the answer is always no#ill try to write a thesis proposal in the next few days and see where that gets me and if i can write it (1200 words) i can probably write#a thesis. and then ill have committed and i wont be in 153563 minds about this and i can close all my tabs in my browser and ill know joy#once again#asks#thank you so much for this ask this is such a good technique!!!#ref
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sunfloralchaos · 5 months ago
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Comparison is the thief of joy and yet
Im constantly on the move, full steam ahead with as much as I can handle and more so even still. And it doesn't feel like anything
It feels like I'm forever chasing some high that I'm not meant for. Some achievement or recognition that the thing that is my entire life is worth it
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nyctarian · 1 year ago
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fans of wrestler redacted having to hard pivot to claiming aew is as morally bad as anything wwe mcmahon bc their guy is willing to compromise his stated values if they will give him a job is so funny. like you cant be mad at people for believing aew is better morally than vince mcmahons big conservative fundraiser sponsored by mbs when your guy himself has made his reputation on making the point that wwe bad for nearly a decade now. their are bad people at aew too but it is not systemic to the entire company's existence at the highest levels the way it is in wwe.
also since people on twitter are trying to pretend he was a lone voice of trans rights and got forced out bc of that im also gonna note aew had a trans womens world champion when p*nk was still working for fox's wwe backstage.
#you cant send me anons on my blog bc i have had asks turned off for multiple years now die mad#personal#his elite beef was w a bernie bro a bisexual and two (yes christian) guys who support gay rights and dont support tr*mp like#sorry vince mcmahons still legally wed wife runs tr*mp fundraising#sorry that collision had nyla on once in the second ep for the owen and then literally never again#sorry that collision was the show made for c******e fans and it took ur guy being fired for a joshi wrestler to get on it#sorry ur guy praised zaslov before having to pivot to being the union guy bc kenny isnt online enough to have seen a video from a con lol#i believe he does try to be leftleaning but his overwhelming ideology is of the self not of the other sorry#what he was doing at the end those beliefs were only tshirt deep die mad#i could go further i like adding nuance and details to things but its pointless. i just hope the weirdos who harass people on here over#their favorite guy and who fail to realize that whatever shit they say on their blogs is the same shit twitter people are sayings#i hope they move on to something that actually brings them joy so that they dont need to harass people for having a different opinion#like sincerely if someone interacts w a post of mine or if i look at someones blog bc they posted a good wrestling thing#and i see a bunch of stuff i dont like for a wrestler i dont like#i just block and move on#i really hope they start doing that as someone who used to post on here a bunch several years ago about all the hatereading i would do#it genuinely is an unhealthy mindset and its something i had to work to grow out of i hope they do too
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bi-buck-coded · 1 year ago
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No one really sees / reads my random personal posts anyway so im popping off in the tags
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dreamyprinx · 2 years ago
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after the next few drafts are posted any other art posts may become more sporadic for the foreseeable future as I honestly hold little love for art or my ocs lately and don’t know if/when that’ll change. thanks for understanding
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running-in-the-dark · 2 years ago
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I had a conversation with my mother about making art, specifically painting, today. she's been trying to get back into it after quite a few years, and she's said something similar to me before but this still confuses me - she said she doesn't enjoy painting at all. the process isn't fun for her and she doesn't like the result and back when she used to paint more (usually on stuff like plates or furniture, and usually copying something exactly) the only part she liked was selling the product/giving it to the person who commissioned her/getting money for her work, basically.
it's just completely baffling to me that she still wants to keep trying it (as a hobby) then. I have (too) many hobbies and I enjoy them all, at least most of the time, or I just.. wouldn't do them? I don't understand why she wants to do this so badly when she's never enjoyed it, the process frustrates her, it stresses her out and so on. like, either do the thing you like (selling the stuff you paint) or just find something else that you do enjoy doing?!
though apparently this is how she feels about most things - she knits but doesn't like it, she reads books but that makes her fall asleep so she doesn't like it, she has the TV on most of the time but doesn't like that either. so maybe the hobby itself isn't the problem here.
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deepfriedseagullfeet · 2 months ago
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i keep trying to push myself to do things but everything is just so unsatisfying. art keeps coming out bad and i cant even say i enjoyed drawing. just filled time. want to write but actually writing leaves me empty. cooking/cleaning brings me absolutely nothing. i feel soulless
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gimmick-blog-bracket · 27 days ago
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Now for the final round!
@hellsitegenetics
I love them
I didn't know I needed to know that the weed-smoking girlfriends post was genetically a wolf, but I did, and I do. Also puts great stuff on my dash.
it’s so fun to be scrolling unhinged posts and then boom. an organism!
so many moths‼ also, unexpected comedy with some of the matches
perfect blend of silly and informative, and makes for an excellent punchline at the end of a long post. puts creatures on my dash. literally what more could you ask for
It's a really unique blog concept and a lot of times the results are pretty funny. It's great when the sequence matches the post content too!
Creatures 👍
Finds beautiful creatures out of the mess of the hellsite
Offers finality AND gives us a creechur.
I love them. English speakers talk like moths
If this blog wins, they could run the text of the winning announcement, and determine the post's genus and species!
They're also very good about tagging the type of creature depicted in the results, so as long as you mute tags of creatures you don't want to see, it's a very fun time seeing iconic legacy posts (and new submissions) being reduced down to a string of letters and assigned a random species of fish or moth or something!
uhh it’s cool
BLAST
There are so many weird bugs in the world
Yippee!!
If, as Haldane said, God has an inordinate fondness for beetles, then surely this blog proves that Tumblr has an inordinate fondness for moths.
Top tier blog as a geneticist, I love seeing obscure organisms and MOTH
Admin got rate limited after trying to blast the bee movie
the knowledge of biology to pull this off (i have taken one biology class in my life) and also the work to find all the strings honestly deserves quite a bit of praise
This gimmick blog has it all: science, pictures of animals, interaction with the text of other peoples' posts, interesting information, and a unique and fun premise. As a biologist, I'm rooting for hellsitegenetics to reach the end and take the tournament, because it is truly a standout among gimmick blogs.
If they win, perhaps this blog too shall become a cool organism :3
@hasgavlebockenburneddownyet
What's more happy holiday cheer than cheering on the destruction of a giant straw goat?
The birds may have won 2023, but I believe in humanity's capability for arson for 2024 <3
a vote for me is a vote for arson! This message was approved by hasgavlebockenburneddownyet
gavle is SUCH a public service and holiday feature
what's more tumblr than comical destruction and holidays?
sometimes you just gotta vote with your matchsticks
Bringing a cultural staple to tumblr since 2021
Arson is so much more fun
It would be really funny and ironic if it survives the tournament
you have no idea how much joy watching the chronicling of the gavlebocken brings me every year
hasgavlebockenburneddownyet provides an essential public service
always love seeing a bit of Swedish history on my dash 'Swedish bamboo season'
the goat account is peak gimmick blog
If I don't get to beat the goat then nobody does. -pointless-achievements
Never ask Tumblr to choose between lies and arson! The winner threatens by nature to rip apart the very fabric of our DNA!
goat statues made out of straw are exciting and interesting
I wanna see things burn
the goat is an essential part of tumblr culture and the goat blog is a sacred keeper of the tumblr high holidays
watching to see if the big straw goat has burned down each year is a true delight, something I never knew existed until tumblr and the blog dedicated to it
the incredibly focused nature of @/hasgavlebockenburneddownyet is what makes their gimmick superior.
Please guys bite gavlebocken
Look, I'm Danish. I was put on this earth to annoy the Swedes and vice versa, but even I voted for @/hasgavlebockenburneddownyet
gavlebocken is also such a fun name and this blog informed be about its existence, so for that I am grateful
hasgavlebockenburneddownyet is providing a vital service! Every year, people rely on their updates regarding the fate of our most beloved Yule Goat! How could they NOT deserve the win!?
sacred anti-corporate arson
a vote for gävlebocken is a vote for anarchy!
pls vote for them they're the funniest gimmick keeping track on the funniest phenomena in recent human history, like when i look at their acc i think to myself this is what tumblr was created for
the goat is the GOAT
HASGAVLEBOCKENBURNEDDOWNYET DESERVES TO WIN, I have them on post alert for a REASON
the holiday season wouldn't be the same without them
they do important reporting. Do you look at the news and be like 'the reporters aren't doing work they're just telling you whats happening.' Have some respect for the goat news
let the weird burnt sacrificial ritual of it all appeal to you
nothing makes my December more interesting, arson should win
doesn't barge in on other peoples posts which is always a good thing in my books. not a fan when obnoxious gimmick blogs turn a decent post into a garbled mess
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blackknight-kai · 23 days ago
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Just grooming headcanons and how would DO/SW react to reader busting out a whole ass skincare/haircare routine with tons of nice smelling products, shampoos, oils and hair masks
monke getting pampered tonight!!!
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Okay! So I have grooming thoughts/HC and I’ll maybe get a whole post together at some point for it, but for now I wanna focus on this particular scenario of modern reader wanting to pamper him.
So, I feel like they would actually react the same way about this, mainly because they both grew up in the same environment and are both warriors etc. That being said I do think there will be a few differences and I’ll list them out.
Before I begin, I want to preface that I think if would be funny if they BOTH would be very against/dont wanna do it at first (I’ll explain why- this is in regards to the skincar/haircare/oils etc not general grooming).
I think SW out of the two would be easier to convince, not right away, but I do think hed eventually give in quicker than DO. I also think SW would seek you out after he realized how much he liked it and would demand his pampering. DO would be more subtle about it and let himself get a little extra messy so you offer it. DO is more on the indifferent side, thinking it’s pointless where as SW thinks that but also sees it as ‘fancy’ and too ‘soft’.
- [ ] You would think he’d jump at the chance to be groomed and have your hands running through his fur? Generally yes. But this? No.
- [ ] Absolutely Refuses when you first bring it up. Curls his lip and wrinkles his nose and everything.
- [ ] Thinks it’s a waste. Of. Time.
- [ ] He would be just fine with a wash and scrub in the river/waterfall, doesnt need whatever the hell that is.
- [ ] Doesnt like how stuff feels on his fur (even if it’s gonna be washed off) - he has yet to experience the joy of modern products making his fur extra soft though.
- [ ] He’s gonna argue that for him, someone who regularly gets into fights and rolls around getting into shit and is always getting filthy for one reason or another, wasting all that stuff is useless. (Not that hes dirty, he washes all the time)
- [ ] The scents of the products would irritate his sensitive nose so before you ask again you’d have to find stuff that he could deal with.
- [ ] Grooming is important in his culture so he genuinely loves grooming and being groomed by you, BUT he drawls the line at this fancy frou-frou modern shit. He is a strong, independent warrior and does NOT need to smell like a flower (disregarding how often he rolls in them when playing with monkey cubs).
- [ ] As much as he grew up being used to grooming and it being a bonding thing, it’s not something he is used to in regards of “being taken care of”. It was more of a social thing so you wanting to take care of him makes him on edge.
- [ ] If you keep at it though eventually he will give in, just the once (he thinks). Especially when you show him the products before hand and they dont smell AS bad.
- [ ] He’s gonna pout and sigh dramatically through the first bit of it. Trying to keep up a ‘I’m only doing this for you, you owe me’ facade.
- [ ] But he very quickly realizes that he freaking adores this!
- [ ] The low lighting, soft smells, warm fuzzy atmosphere, being the focus of your attention for an extended period of time?
- [ ] You rinsing his fur? Slowly massaging in the soaps and scraping your nails gently over his skin? The hot warm water coupled with you rubbing the knots out of his sore muscles? Drying him with gentle towel rubs and light blow drying so he’s nice and soft and fluffy? Rubbing oil or lotion on the fur less patches of his so his skin is hydrated and soft? You just touching him for so damn long tenderly, letting him lean back against your chest when in the tub or letting him lay across your lap as you blow dry his back, or giving him a real massage after while he just lies there feeling like a fucking cloud? Even with the damn moist thing you put on his face.
- [ ] He is in fucking LOVE and heaven. THIS is the real heaven, right here. You have one giant puddle of a monkey and you’ve done it now.
- [ ] He’s going to be letting out so many sighs and light grunts/groans of innocent pleasure. His mind will be quiet and he will just bask in the attention you’ve given him.
- [ ] Very addicted to it although it wont happen SUPER often. (Although you made him boujee about his soap now so this is your fault)
- [ ] SWK - again will from here on DEMAND his pamperings when he deems it time. DO - will be more subtle about it, purposely letting himself get messy and take bare minimum washes so you get fed up with how disheveled his fur is and ‘make’ him sit for you for a night of pampering time.
- [ ] He is gonna be smug as fuck though to other monkeys / people with his glossy soft fur and beautiful shining soft skin. SWK would strut like a peacock and DO would be a bit more subtle about it but would still show off.
- [ ] Definitely WILL return the favor. Enjoys it very much in fact, again it’s a social thing/bonding thing, plus he gets to make you feel special too/has his hands on you for extended periods of time.
Side note: I feel like since this is more of a pamper the monkey thing spicy time would be on a low simmer. But if it leads to it, it would happen AFTER everything is said and done. Not that he wouldn’t get you worked up or you him, slick hands are traveling all over each others bodies after all (sometimes deliberately). But I think it would be tender and slow, just enjoying the warm soft gooey atmosphere you two have created for the night.
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iwritefandomimagines · 11 months ago
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MISTLETOE — JESS MARIANO
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masterlist
pairing: jess mariano x reader
description: when lorelai gilmore insists on hosting a christmas party, you might just catch yourself under the mistletoe with the boy you, like, totally don’t have a crush on or anything.
warnings: swearing as usual. fluff & a tiny bit of angst. jess smoking and u having a tiny smoke.
author’s note: u asked for more festive jess, and i am hear to answer ur cries! jess mariano i adore you !!!
“Y/N! You’re here!”
Lorelai Gilmore had never looked quite so pleased to see you, her eyes twinkling as they scanned over the Christmas jumper you were (rather reluctantly) wearing.
“Hi, Lorelai,” you smiled, handing her the bottle of champagne you’d been given to bring as a party favour, to which she grinned, “Thanks sweetie, come on in.”
You followed her down the hall and were embarrassingly pleased when your eyes caught those of a miserable looking Jess Mariano.
The moment he saw you he seemed to perk up, and you couldn’t help but notice Lorelai’s smirk as she watched you immediately beeline for him.
“Hey Y/L/N,” he almost smiled, picking at a piece of bread he’d been toying with eating for a while, “You got roped into coming too then?”
You scoffed, “Like Lorelai was going to let anyone get out of the biggest event of the festive season?”
“Don’t let Taylor hear you say that, his 300 different pointless events will be crushed,” Jess laughed, and you couldn’t help but revel in the sound.
You couldn’t quite pinpoint when the joy at finding a friend with whom you had so much in common had become something more, but you didn’t like the way butterflies consumed your stomach when you were around him.
He was your friend, nothing more, and so — how cliche — you wouldn’t even really admit to yourself that you really liked him.
“Nice jumper,” he smirked, and suddenly you regretted adhering to Lorelai’s supposedly strict rule of no entry without a Christmas jumper, “Very festive.”
He was stifling a laugh, and you shook your head as your cheeks burned crimson under his intense gaze.
“Oh fuck off,” you looked down at where Rudolph and Santa were emblazoned on your chest, “I didn’t think I’d get away with no jumper and I didn’t have one, so it’s my mum’s.”
He chuckled now because he already knew that, having already seen your mother wearing the jumper the previous week, accompanied by the fact it was adorably oversized on you and he found it cute that it swamped your frame.
You’d tried tucking it into your jeans to minimise the bagginess, but to no avail.
“It’s cute,” he teased, swiping his tongue over his lips as you looked away, “But it looks warm. Like, crazy warm.”
“Oh, it is. I’m dying here. Anyway I didn’t think you’d actually come,” you shrugged, “If I’d known I wouldn’t have worn the jumper. One, there was no chance you were going to actually listen to Lorelai, and two, I could do without the teasing!”
Jess raised his eyebrows, “Hey, I’m not teasing,” he raised his hands up as if in defeat, “But you think I’d miss all this?”
The sarcasm in his tone as his eyes scanned the room made you giggle, “Of course. Nothing says Christmas like Taylor arguing with everyone and Lorelai running around being the fun enforcer.”
You both watched as Taylor seemed to be enthusiastically explaining something to a frustrated looking Sookie, and saw Lorelai still flitting around the room trying to ensure that everyone was having an at least somewhat pleasant time.
“I could do with some fresh air,” Jess’ eyes almost challenged you, because you knew he was going out to smoke and that Lorelai was inevitably going to have an issue with that, “Wanna join?”
You were well aware that it was in your best interest to not follow him around wherever he went, but you were so drawn to Jess that it was impossible not to.
“Yeah, sure,” you shrugged, gesturing for him to lead the way, “But you better not expect me to cover for you when Lorelai’s like a sniffer dog and finds you smoking.”
Jess just rolled his eyes, “Sure, officer.”
“Woah, woah, woah, where are you two going?” Lorelai asked, eyes immediately catching you both quickly exiting the room and widening in dismay.
“Y/N is wearing the clothing equivalent of a sauna over here, she just needs fresh air,” Jess crossed his arms over his chest as Lorelai’s eyes narrowed.
You smiled sheepishly, “We won’t be gone long, I promise.”
Lorelai didn’t appear convinced, but her expression suddenly lit up when she noticed where you were currently stood between rooms — directly under a doorframe adorned with mistletoe.
“Well, well, well,” Jess smirked, leaning an elbow on the doorframe as he watched you grow shy under his watchful eye, “Pucker up, princess.”
You shoved him slightly, and he almost toppled straight over, “Right, yeah. Like I’d kiss you.”
“Ouch,” Jess pouted, “You wound me.”
“I think your ego can take the hit, Jess,” you bit your lip, overwhelmed both by embarrassment at him joking about kissing you in front of the whole room and the urge to just say “fuck it!” and kiss him.
For a moment he looked genuinely hurt, but he soon resumed his usual nonchalant expression and continue his pursuit outside for a cigarette.
You followed him quickly, scurrying along behind him as he pulled a cigarette from its box and lit it without a moment’s thought once he’d passed the decking.
“Dude—slow down,” you huffed, “You invited me outside and then ran off like you didn’t want me here. What gives?”
Jess rolled his eyes, “Oh please, if you’re going to just question me then do me a favour and go back inside.”
“Woah,” you warned, taken aback by his sudden rude tone when he’d been joking around just minutes prior, “What the fuck is going on here? What have I done in the last 30 seconds that’s pissed you off this badly?”
Jess’ face seemed to drop, like he’d realised he shouldn’t be snapping at you like he was, “It doesn’t matter, Y/N. Just— just go back inside, alright? I’m sorry.”
You weren’t for even a moment going to accept that dismissal, instead sauntering to his side and snatching the cigarette from his fingers to take one single drag.
You didn’t smoke, made abundantly clear by the coughing that followed, so you weren’t sure why you’d so frantically taken it from him.
You shoved it back towards him and he accepted it with a laugh.
“Now you’re laughing? What is up with you?”
Jess rolled his eyes yet again, “I just don’t understand you, Y/L/N.”
You gulped, finally overcoming your coughing fit as your face was lit with confusion, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You came straight over to me when you got here. You giggled and you blushed and you smiled and,” he paused, like he was regretting opening his mouth, before he caved and continued, “And then when everyone’s watching you laugh at the idea of kissing me.”
You scoffed at that, “Says you Mr. ‘Pucker up princess’? Since when did you care if I want to kiss you under the stupid mistletoe or not?”
“Oh, uh, I don’t know… Since the countless fuckin’ weeks I’ve been flirting with you?” he was gesticulating wildly as he spoke, as though what he was saying had been obvious the whole time.
“You tease me, Jess, you don’t flirt with me,” you shrugged, breathing ragged as you pondered what it was he was really saying, “We’re friends and you know I—you just tease me about little things to wind me up. You’ve never ever made any suggestion that you like me.”
“God you’re so oblivious, man,” Jess shook his head, extinguishing his cigarette and tossing it out of sight to step closer to you.
Normally you’d hate the lingering smoke smell, but on Jess it was almost a comfort — though it did nothing to calm your racing heart in this moment.
“I’m hardly good with like, feelings, am I?” he leaned forward, so close you could feel his breath on your face, “I thought I was doing a good enough job at, like, I dunno— I mean I called you princess, for fucks sake. You think I’d do that if I didn’t like you?”
You sighed, “I just assumed you were joking around, trying to make me flustered to get a laugh out of it… I mean, princess? Really? That’s an awful choice and— I just don’t believe for a second that you like me.”
“And why not?”
“I—, well—,”
He didn’t let you fumble over your words any longer, dipping his head to press his lips firmly to yours and pulling you closer to his chest.
“I really do like you Y/N,” he exhaled as he pulled away, his voice quiet and low, “I should’ve made that clearer, and I just got annoyed that the mistletoe could’ve been my chance to kiss you and you blew it off like it was a hilarious idea.”
“Only because you joked like it was!”
“To protect my ego as you so kindly put it,” he quirked his brow, no longer mad and instead still giddy from the kiss, “But I got my kiss in the end, eh?”
You chuckled, “Don’t push your luck, sunshine.”
“You haven’t even told me you actually like me back yet, either,” Jess huffed, and you could detect the faintest pout on his lips as he paused, “This is going to be hard fucking work, isn’t it?”
You leaned in to peck the corner of his lips gently, a small smirk playing on your face, “Mhm. Get used to it, Mariano. ‘Cause I like you too. A whole fucking lot, in fact.”
“Good, now do you fancy going back in there and giving the mistletoe another try? I’m sure it’d spice the party right up.”
You shook your head, eyes rolling at the teasing look on his face, “Let’s just stay out here for now, huh Romeo?”
You were silent for a moment until he kissed you again, hands wrapping around your waist as yours found the back of his neck.
“Sounds good to me, princess.”
———
thanks for reading guys !!! this was a lil ooc but fun to write so i hope you enjoyed. please let me know what you think ! <3
here is my masterlist for more of my works :-)
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iamgonnagetyouback · 1 month ago
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𝟷𝚔 || 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍
♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: James hated the rain, but you had the opposite views.
♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: Tooth rotting fluff
♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: James Potter x fem!reader
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James Potter was sulking. For the past hour, he had been grumbling under his breath, arms crossed tightly over his chest as he sat on the Gryffindor Quidditch stands. The rain poured down relentlessly, pounding the field and drenching everything in sight, including James’s mood.
“Bloody weather. Ruined practice,” he muttered, staring gloomily at the puddles forming on the pitch.
You sat next to him, humming softly to yourself, completely unaffected by the downpour. In fact, you loved it. The rain was your thing—the rhythm of the drops, the fresh smell of wet grass, the way the world seemed to quiet down, as if nature itself was taking a deep breath.
James, however, seemed ready to punch a cloud.
“I mean, who likes rain? It's so—ugh,” he groaned again, clearly expecting you to chime in with a sympathetic nod or an equally passionate rant against the weather.
But you were quiet. Too quiet.
James frowned, looking up from his intense stare at the mud. “Hey, are you even—” His voice trailed off when he turned to find you… gone.
His heart skipped a beat as he whipped his head around, panic rising. “Where the hell—”
And then he saw you.
There you were, standing in the middle of the Quidditch pitch, your white dress already soaked, but that didn't seem to bother you at all. You twirled in the rain, arms outstretched, head tilted back to let the droplets fall on your face, as if the world was putting on a show just for you. The sight of you, spinning and laughing, so carefree, caught his breath.
You noticed him staring and waved dramatically. “Oi, Potter! Stop grumbling and come here!”
James just stared at you, rain drizzling down his glasses. “I hate the rain!” he called back, the frustration clear in his voice.
You raised your eyebrows, incredulous. “You hate the rain? How could anyone hate rain?!”
Before James could protest, you marched back to him, grabbing his hand and pulling him down from the stands with a mischievous grin. “Come on, grumpy, you need a bit of this magic.”
“Sweetheart, my hair is getting soaked!” James whined, though there was a slight tug of amusement at the corner of his mouth. “Quidditch practice is cancelled, I’m cold, and—”
You cut him off by spinning him around so suddenly he stumbled a little. “Dance with me!” you ordered, that playful glint in your eyes making his protests seem utterly pointless.
James hesitated, glancing down at his drenched Quidditch jersey, then at your bright face, and finally up at the sky. “You’re mad, you know that?” he chuckled, shaking his head, but his fingers still curled around yours.
“I’ve been told,” you winked, stepping closer and placing one hand on his shoulder, the other still holding his. “Now, are you going to dance or let the rain win?”
He rolled his eyes dramatically but couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across his face. “Fine,” he sighed, though it sounded suspiciously like a laugh. “But if I get struck by lightning, I’m blaming you.”
You giggled and pulled him into an impromptu waltz, both of you stumbling through puddles, laughing like children as the rain continued to pour down. James was awkward at first, trying not to slip, his feet splashing through the mud, but after a few moments, he loosened up. Your joy was infectious, and soon, his complaints were forgotten as the two of you twirled and spun across the field, the rain soaking you both to the bone.
“This is ridiculous!” James shouted over the rain, but his laugh betrayed him.
“You love it!” you yelled back, twirling away from him and then back into his arms, making him catch you.
He caught you with ease, spinning you around in his arms before bringing you close, his nose nearly brushing yours. “You’re insane,” he murmured, his voice softer now, intimate, as if the rain had formed a cocoon around the two of you, blocking out the rest of the world.
You beamed up at him, droplets of rain running down your cheeks, your soaked hair sticking to your forehead. “And yet, here you are, dancing with me in the rain.”
James leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours. “Only because you’re irresistible,” he said, his voice low and warm, sending a shiver down your spine that had nothing to do with the cold.
“You hate the rain, huh?” you teased softly, wrapping your arms around his neck, your fingers tangling in his wet hair.
James grinned, his hazel eyes sparkling with affection. “Maybe it’s growing on me.”
And just like that, he kissed you—soft at first, but then deeper, more passionate, as the rain continued to pour around you, soaking you both but making everything feel electric. The world seemed to disappear, leaving just the two of you, dancing in the rain, lost in the moment.
When you finally pulled away, breathless, you smiled up at him. “Told you the rain was magical.”
James laughed, shaking his head as he tucked a strand of wet hair behind your ear. “Yeah, well, maybe it’s not so bad when I’m with you.”
You smirked, poking him in the chest. “Not so bad? You’ll be begging for more rainy days after this.”
“Only if you promise to keep dancing with me,” he said, and you could tell by the way he looked at you that he meant it.
With a grin, you pulled him into another twirl, the rain continuing to fall around you as you both laughed and danced together, completely oblivious to anything else but each other.
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mcflymemes · 16 days ago
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PROMPTS FROM NORMAL PEOPLE *  assorted dialogue from the book by sally rooney, some lines slightly changed to suit a roleplay format, adjust as necessary
i'm not a religious person, but i do sometimes think god made you from me.
i have a sense that real life is happening somewhere far away, happening without me, and i don't know if i will ever found out where it is or become part of it.
no one can be independent of other people completely.
life offers up these moments of joy despite everything.
he probably won't come back.
what we have now, we can never have back again.
for me, the pain of loneliness will be nothing to the pain i used to feel, of being unworthy.
we've done a lot of good for each other.
people can really change one another.
you should go. i'll always be here. you know that.
generally i find men are a lot more concerned with limiting the freedoms of women than exercising personal freedom for themselves.
most people go through their whole lives without ever really feeling that close with anyone.
life is the thing you bring with you inside your own head.
even in memory, i will always find that moment unbearably intense.
i have never believed i'm fit to be loved by any person.
yes. that was it. the beginning of my life.
it's funny the decisions you make because you like someone.
your whole life is different.
i think we're at that weird age where life can change a lot from small decisions.
if people appear to behave pointlessly in grief, it's only because human life is pointless, and this is the truth that grief revealed.
i don't know what's wrong with me.
i don't know why i can't be like normal people.
it feels powerful to put an experience down in words.
people are a lot more knowable than they think they are.
there's always been something inside me that men have wanted to dominate.
i want my life to mean something.
a lot of the literary people in college see books primarily as a way of appearing cultured.
that's the only part of myself i want to protect, the part that exists inside you.
there's something so corrupt and sexy about it.
i wish you didn't have to go.
i wish you could stay the night.
life offers up these moments of joy despite everything.
literature moves me.
it almost sounds sexual.
you learn nothing very profound about yourself simply by being bullied.
it's time you'll never get back.
time is real. the money is also real.
we've done a lot of good for each other.
the snow keeps falling.
hopefully i have changed, you know, as a person. but honestly, if i have, it's because of you.
he does have immaculate taste.
it's not like this with other people.
[name], would you ever fuck off?
you lean in expecting resistance, and everything just falls away in front of you.
i would lie down and die for you at any minute.
sometimes, someone will make eye contact with me, like a bus conductor or a person looking for change, and i'll feel shocked that anyone can actually see me.
we could be in a room full of people and my eyes would always meet yours, just to find that you had already been looking.
there's something comforting about it, something good about feeling sort of numb, detached from it all.
it was different with you, didn't have to play any games with you. it was just real.
no one is ever gonna hurt you like that again. everything's gonna be all right. trust me.
i love you, and i'm not gonna let anything like that happen to you again.
we have done so much good for one another.
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cdragons · 2 months ago
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hiii i see you lurking :3 miss u love u muah muah muah!!!!
I don't know what you're talking about, my love O//W//O, but please enjoy this little drabble dedicated to another one of our brainchild. Happy 1K followers, my love! It's been so wonderful to see how much your blog has grown and it brings me so much joy to know that others see what an incredible writer you are.
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"It's not fair!" Sansa insisted to her parents, stomping one foot on the stone floor, emphasizing her anger and ire. "Birdy is MY friend, not Robb's! He can't keep trying to steal her!"
"She's not an actual bird, sister," Robb quipped back, annoyed that his younger sister was making such a pointless fuss. "And I wasn't stealing. We were simply talking."
Lord Eddard Stark was exhausted after a long day of acting as the high lords of his ancestral home. The last thing he had expected was his solar to be barged in by his eldest daughter, demanding that his eldest son and her older trueborn brother be barred from speaking from her favorite handmaiden. However, it seemed that dealing with Robb was going to be as much as a dread, if not more than Sansa, if his tense shoulders and scowl were anything to go by.
It wasn't that Ned Stark wasn't grateful for your presence, however strange the circumstances of your arrival were. It was highly unusual for a bastard of a noble to come to be the handmaid of a highborn lord's daughter such as Sansa, even more so when your sire was none other than Roose Bolton himself. Truly, he was shocked when Sansa begged him and his wife to promote you to such a high rank. But he couldn't deny how happy you've made his daughter.
"Look, Father!" she was beaming the other morning when she came down to the Great Hall to break fast with the family. "Do you notice anything different today?" Now, Ned loved all his children, but he was the first to admit that he was as ill-informed as any other man regarding matters of women and young girls. However, looking up from his plate, he was surprised to indeed have noticed something different about his daughter's appearance today. "You've done something with your hair," he replied, inwardly delighted with himself from how Sansa smiled wider. "It looks lovely, dear." "Isn't it beautiful? Birdy brushed and braided it for me!" Sansa went to her seat. "She found wild blue roses the other day and thought of braiding them into my hair today!" "It looks wonderful, Sansa," Catelyn Stark nodded. Despite her distaste for her husband's decision to take in Roose Bolton's bastard, she couldn't deny that the girl was good at her work. "Birdy said she could go to the market at Winter Town tomorrow. But she said that she'd wait until after my lessons with Septa Mordane if I wanted to come with her," Sansa looked at her parents with pleading eyes. "May I please go?" Catelyn nodded, "Robb, would you mind escorting your sister and Lady Snow to the marketplace later after your lessons with Rodrick?" Sansa spoke for her brother. "There's no need for Robb to join us. Birdy already asked Jon to do it." "I'll go," Robb interjected, ecstatic with glee at the idea of walking around town with you. He looked back to see your reaction. As usual, you weren't paying attention to anyone and lost in your little world. You seemed to be talking to a new bird today, the little creature cheerily twittering into your ear. Robb spent the rest of the meal lost in his daytime dreams of you, utterly oblivious to the growing irritation of his younger sister.
Sansa pouted and crossed her arms, "You already have Jon, and Theon follows you everywhere! Why do you need to talk to Birdy for anything anyway? She doesn't like to talk about swords or hunting..." She turned to their father. "He even went so far as to pull her into a corner after we broke fast!"
"WHA-!" Robb balked, and the tips of his ears went red. "I did NOT--!"
"Robb," their father, Ned Stark, turned to his son with stern eyes. While Ned was confident that Robb knew better than to act so dishonorably, he wasn't blind to how quickly his eldest son and heir had taken to Sansa's new handmaiden. "Is what your sister speaks true?"
Robb rubbed his eyes and loudly sighed out his frustration. He loved his sister as much as anyone else in his family, but gods above, she could be so much. Really, how can you ever manage to keep your patience with such a tiresome girl he'll never understand?
"No," he firmly replied. "I was merely informing her that I would be joining Jon in escorting her and Sansa to the market."
"I already told you that you don't have to come!" Sansa growled. "Every time Birdy and I talk, you have to come in and interrupt!"
"You spend so much time together. Have you ever considered that perhaps I'm rescuing her from you?" Robb muttered, just low enough for his sister to hear but not his father.
"I heard that, Robb," their father grumbled. Ned looked like he had aged ten years since his children came in and interrupted his peace. "Sansa, you know better than to falsely accuse your brother like that. Robb, please refrain from any impulsive actions. As the next Lord of Winterfell, you need to remember your differing stations."
"Yes, Father," the siblings grumbled in unison. But anyone could tell that this issue was far from over.
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"Honestly...! Robb can be so annoying!" Sansa and you have just returned from the market stand with your favorite spinner. What should have been a relaxing walk turned out to be a tiresome activity with the addition of not one but both of her older brothers. "He always has to put his nose into everything!" She waited for you to agree, but you were silent. Turning to look at you, her frustration grew when she realized you weren't paying attention. "Are you even listening to me?"
You finally looked up from your knitting and impassively blinked. "Not really...why? Was it important?"
Sansa sighed before sitting beside you. You and her were sitting underneath the Weirwood Tree, your favorite spot in the Godswood. "As your lady, everything I say to you is important. You're my handmaid; you should know this..."
You dispassionately shrugged. "I'm still not very familiar with the ways of highborn nobles."
Sansa indignantly huffed before pouting. You gave a small smile before going back to your knitting.
“Who do you like better, me or Robb?”
You look at her lady in surprise and confusion. “Your brother? Lord Stark’s firstborn?”
Sansa nods. “Yes, now tell me, do you like me or him better?”
You cocks your head to the side. “Why would that matter, my lady?”
“Because it does!” Sansa rolls her eyes. "He's always interrupting us and trying to flirt with you!"
You carefully think about it. You hadn’t really spent much time with Lord Robb. You're more likely to play with the little ones or Jon, which is common ground for both of you being bastards. In the beginning, Robb tended to avoid you whenever he could. But now he tends to single you out whenever he sees you and his sister talking. “Your brother has been very kind to me. He is certainly very nice. But I haven’t spent much time with him to know. When he does try to talk to me, I find it sometimes difficult to talk with him.”
Sansa’s eyes widen. “He hasn’t been rude to you like Theon, has he?” She shook her head.
“No, just…hard to talk. Not much to say from me to him I suppose.”
“Is that how it is with me?”
You turn to Sansa. “No, I find it very easy to talk to you, my lady. You are very different from me, but I like our discussions very much.”
Each word you spoke was true. Many would consider your Lady Sansa, a silly little girl who believed in too many stories about pretty princes and great heroes. But you knew true evil - you were born from it and was raised with it looming over your shoulder for your entire life. Snasa may have been naive, but she was a kind girl who still saw the beauty in her world. A beauty you couldn't see, but could appreciate.
You and her were very different, but you enjoyed spending time with her. It was apparent she was very proud of her noble birth, but you never felt uncomfortable. In fact, you felt as relaxed with her as you do with Maester Luwin, going so far as to speak informally with her without any other company.
Sansa smiles and hugs you. “I think so, too. So you do like me more than Robb.”
You think and nod. “Yes, I am very confident to say that is the case.”
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Jon loved Robb - really, he did. But gods above, his brother could be a brat. "Future lords aren't supposed to sulk."
Robb growled, "I am not sulking."
"Pouting, then..." Jon muttered, going back to aim his arrow at the target. But the arrow flew over the wall when a stray snowball hit his head. Jon turned to his brother, annoyed. "If you want to get to know her so bad, why don't you talk to her without Sansa? You might stand a better chance than just pining after her all day."
"I am not - oh, fuck off," Robb went back to hacking the straw dummy before him. He didn't want to admit it, but Jon was right. It didn't take a genius to guess that his terrible mood had little to do with training and more to do with the fact he failed in his chance to get you alone...again. "Why does she have to be around Birdy all the time, anyway?"
"...Because she's her lady...?"
Robb wanted to scream, "Yeah, but - y'know...doesn't ever annoy you?"
Jon shook his head. Truthfully, it wasn't long ago that his relationship with his half-sister was very different. Before you arrived at Winterfell, the way Sansa treated him was barely better than Lady Stark. She neither acknowledged his presence nor ever referred to him as her brother. But ever since your arrival, the icy wall that separated began to slowly thaw. After befriending you, Sansa gained a whole different perspective on bastardy and was more thoughtful and considerate of how she treated Jon. She even gave him a handkerchief with an embroidered direwolf for his name-day gift.
Jon doubted he and Sansa would ever be as close as he and Ayra, but they were making progress.
Robb wiped the sweat pooling on his forehead. "What would I even talk about with her?"
Jon had the nerve to act oblivious. "Why're you asking me?"
Robb's curse nearly spewed out, "You know why. You're the only one she likes talking to... what the hell do the two of you even talk about for so long?"
"I dunno," Jon shrugged. He knew he wasn't being particularly helpful, but he really didn't have an answer. "Look, just talk to her about anything. Better than what you do now..."
"What are you two talking about?"
Robb and Jon turned around in a panic. There you were, standing in the courtyard with your infamous impassive stare. It was painful to see how effortlessly beautiful you were. You stood like a true beacon of Northern beauty, so much so that all the animals inside the keep craved your company. Robb couldn't recall the number of times he found you cheerily conversing with rats from the kitchen or the crows in the rook.
What he would give to have you speak with him with such eagerness...
"Nothing of importance, my lady," he tried to act as normal as possible. "Why? Do you need assistance with anything?"
You shook your head. "I just wanted to drop something off, " you said, digging into your pouch. You pulled out a package wrapped in a burlap sack and twine. "I mended your gloves. They were looking a bit frayed, so I stitched them. They should last a bit longer now."
Robb didn't respond. He just stood and stared like an idiot who had forgotten his own name. It wasn't until Jon jabbed into his side with his elbow that he thanked you for your help.
"Thank you, my lady," He cleared his throat before taking the package from your hands. He opened the package and wasn't surprised in the least at how his old gloves looked better than when he first got them. You always had that magic touch. "They smell different."
You nodded, "Yes, Ayra mentioned that you were upset last week because I didn't give you my favor since I promised to give it to Jon. She also said you stink after training, so I should ensure the gloves mask the odor." When he didn't react, you decided to provide further clarification. "She said it would help you."
"I'm going to kill Arya," Robb thought to himself. He could see Jon's shoulder shake with laughter from the corner of his eye.
You bowed to take your leave. "Now, excuse me, my lords. I must attend to Edwina."
"A fellow maid?"
"No, the duck in the stable. She's pregnant, and I knitted a scarf for her."
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Happy 1K, my love!
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svtoose · 5 months ago
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When Everyone Else Forgot ft. Choi Seungcheol
pairing: seungcheol x gn!reader
word count: 1,300
F + some hurt/sadness
warnings: some cursing, rude friends, college au, cuddling, cheesecake
summary: everyone forgot your birthday except a special someone
a/n : s(ice cream s)coups
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Today was going to be your special day, the day that only happens once a year. Today you would turn 21 years old.
As you awakened in bed, you promised yourself that nothing could ruin your day. No rude roommate, no grumpy teacher. Today was going to be a day spent with your friends filled with happiness, joy, and possibly some booze.
While getting dressed, you made sure to choose your favorite outfit and add just an extra touch of makeup. After all, you wanted to look nice for your birthday.
Once you got to the kitchen, you began to prepare your breakfast, not minding your grumpy roommate, Seungcheol, who would barely look in your direction.
As he shut the fridge right before you reached for the milk, you offered him an impatient deadpan look but quickly moved on and finished preparing your food for the rest of the day. As you had promised yourself earlier, no snarky attitude would get in the way of today’s happiness.
While you were checking your phone, you were surprised not to see any texts from your friends or family. It was true that you no longer lived with your parents, but you were sure they couldn’t possibly forget about today. Perhaps it’s just too early for them, you thought to yourself.
While your roommate shuffled back to his bedroom, you exited the apartment and made your way to class, looking forward to seeing your friends and what they might’ve prepared for you.
Once you reached the building, your friend found you and called your name.
“Y/N!” she shouted. With an extra pep in your step, you rushed toward your friend, ready to walk to your first class of the day together.
“Ugh. I’m so not in the mood for Anthropology right now," she complained.
“Yeah, me neither. At least we’ll get it over with.”
While your morning continued without a single “happy birthday,” you assumed that your friends were preparing a surprise for you during the lunch break. Maybe they’d take you out or get a cake for you.
But by the time your lunch period started, your friends were treating the day like any other. It’s not that you expected some extravagant event, but something special, a card, or a sweet birthday wish would’ve felt nice. After all, you were that friend who made everyone feel so appreciated on their birthdays.
Once lunch was over, you began to feel a bit dejected. You considered bringing it up to your friends, but that would be kind of pointless. You shouldn’t have to remind your friends of a day such as this one.
At 6 o’clock, you had completed your final class of the day and were ready to head home, without a single birthday wish, not even from your own family. As you walked along the pathway with your friend, ready to part ways as she headed toward her car, one of your classmates from biology passed by you.
“Oh, Y/N! Happy birthday, by the way!” You remembered having a conversation with your lab partner about this as she continued walking on her way.
“Thanks!” you replied. Your “friend” wore a surprised expression as the guilt spread to her cheeks and ears. You paid no mind and continued on your way home, not even surprised by the fact that she didn’t follow you.
Tears welled up in your eyes as you got on the bus, completely devastated by what happened today. You paid no mind to the sympathetic looks strangers gave you and continued home.
As you unlocked the door to your apartment, you dreaded Seungcheol seeing you in tears, but to your surprise, the apartment seemed empty. The only light on was the one that hung over the kitchen counter.
Ready to end this awful day, you were headed straight to your bedroom before a box on the counter caught your eye. As you inched up, you continued to sniffle before realizing what was in the box.
“Happy Birthday Y/N,” read the blueberry cheesecake that lay fresh in the box. On the bottom corner were the words, “-your asshole of a roommate.”
You couldn’t contain your tears of joy. Out of everyone that forgot, your mean roommate remembered. With your belongings still in your hands, you made your way to your roommate’s room, hoping he’d be home. You pushed through the door to find him lying in his bed facing away from you, watching something on his phone.
“Seungcheol?” you whispered. He turned around, slightly confused at first, before he clearly saw you in all of your tears.
“Why are you crying?” he asked, concern mixed with confusion.
You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself. “It's just... today was supposed to be special, but no one remembered my birthday. Not my friends, not my family. It felt like no one cared.”
Seungcheol frowned. "I saw you on campus earlier. I could tell something was off. You looked really down."
You nodded, tears still streaming down your face. "Yeah, it was hard to keep it together. I tried to stay positive, but it was just so disappointing."
His expression slowly became understanding. Despite his urge to crack a mean joke, he slowly opened his arms as an invitation for you. For some reason, it just felt right. You crawled into his arms as he held you close, still teary-eyed from all of the emotions.
“Thank you, Seungcheol,” you said as the warmth of his embrace began to melt away your pain. You could feel his heart beating steadily under your ear, helping you feel grounded.
He held you a little tighter, his chin resting gently on the top of your head. "Listen, I know I can be an asshole at times," he began, his voice soft and sincere, "but I really do appreciate you. I guess I just don’t know how to behave around you."
You pulled back slightly to look at him, your eyes searching his face for any sign of insincerity, but all you saw was genuine concern and a hint of vulnerability that he usually kept well-hidden. "Why do you say that?" you asked curiously.
Seungcheol sighed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "I don’t know, Y/N. Maybe it’s because I’ve never been good at expressing my feelings, or maybe it’s because... well, because I care about you more than I let on."
Your heart skipped a beat at his confession. "You care about me?" you repeated, as if needing reassurance.
He nodded, a small, almost shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah, I do. I might not show it the best way, but I do."
The tears that had been threatening to fall now did so freely.
"You remembered my birthday," you said.
Seungcheol chuckled softly. "Of course I did. How could I forget? I know today didn’t go the way you wanted, but I wanted to make sure you knew that someone cares. Even if that someone is me.”
You laughed through your tears. "You’re not so grumpy all the time," you teased, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand.
"Don’t spread that around. I’ve got a reputation to maintain," he joked.
You settled back into his arms, feeling more at ease than you had all day. "Thank you for the cake. It means a lot. It’s my favorite too.”
"Anytime, Y/N. Anytime," he replied with his comforting voice.
As you lay there in his arms, the events of the day began to fade away. Now all you could think about was what your future might be like with this kinder, mushier side of your roommate.
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shycoconutt · 7 months ago
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A Future With You (Gojo x Reader)
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Summary: It's been a long time since Satoru and you talked, and there are some feelings that are threatening to come to light. Can you both move on from your tragic past?
Content Warning: MDNI (18+) smut, penetration (unprotected sex, finishing inside, oral fem receiving), fem reader, some angst, porn with some plot, praise, past betrayl. Takes place post night parade, pre season one.
WC: 5.8k
Notes: I did it! First semi-long fic for JJK! Requests are open, fyi :)
“Why do you do that?”
Saturo Gojo's voice pierced through the room, interrupting your focus on your paperwork. Ignoring him, you continued ticking off points on your mission checklist, frustrated by the tedious task mandated by the higher-ups.
Ugh, it’s so annoying that they make us fill these out every time. It’s pointless, they never even read them. 
 “Hellllllloooooooooooooooo,” Satoru sings in your direction. 
Glancing up, you find Satoru leaning forward in his chair, his white hair gleaming under the fluorescent lights of his office in one of the main buildings of Jujutsu High. His eyes are covered in thin, black material. To his right, Nanami is sprawled out on the sofa with his head resting on the armrest, one leg hanging off the side and his foot on the ground. He’s passed out, finished paperwork resting on his slowly rising and falling chest, oblivious to the world.
"My bad, I thought you were talking to Ken," you apologize, turning your attention to Satoru.
“Oh yeah, suuuuuuuure,” he pouts, “You always ignore me.”
“Not always, but most of the time,” you smile teasingly.
You were so used to Satoru’s presence, that ignoring him was one of the only ways to keep you sane. 80% of what he babbles on about is nonsense, and he knows it. He lives to tease you. The truth is, you’ve grown up together, faced death, lived and loved together. You don’t technically ignore him, you couldn’t if you tried, you just tune him down a little, like the radio.
After a brief pause, you relented, "Why do I always do what?"
Satoru smiles and leans back into his chair, pressing his fingers together. 
“That thing with your feet,” he smiles, pointing towards them. 
You draw your attention to your feet crossed on the coffee table in front of you. You only had your socks on, for comfort. Your brows furrowed in confusion, not exactly sure what he was getting at. 
Satoru scoffs, reading your face. “That thing!”
“What thing?!” you ask, bemused.
Satoru sighs and tilts his head back in frustration. Bringing his hands together again, he begins to rub them into each other in a haphazard manner. 
“This whole thing you do,” he continues to demonstrate, “It’s like your feet are making out!”
You begin to giggle as he becomes more aggressive with his hands. Your joy comes in waves throughout your body, thoroughly amused. Satoru knows how much you love his physical comedy, so he really hams it up for you.
Suddenly, he springs up from his chair and explodes like a firework, “You’re doing it again!”
“Argh, why are you yelling?” Kento grumbles from the couch, papers crumpling under his grasp as he sat up from his sprawled-out position. 
“Oh, sorry Kenny,” Satoru puts a hand up to his mouth and grins. Giggles are still escaping from you as Kento grunts in frustration, gathering his papers and brushing himself off from his slumber.
“I was just over here trying so hard to complete my important work,” Gojo continues, "but we have a little cricket in the room," he quipped, looking over at you with a playful glint in his eye. It’s a look you are all too familiar with. It’s a look that gets you out of bed in the morning.
God, he’s so pretty.
Satoru is the type of pretty that transcends human – part of you swears he is extraterrestrial. His skin was born without imperfection. His white hair, although sometimes wild, is shiny and smooth. His teeth look like they are made of pearls. His body is sturdy, yet aerodynamic. Then, of course, there are his eyes. 
His eyes are like mirrors facing a partly cloudy sky. Often you wondered if they would suck you in, spit you out, and watch you freefall.
Terrified of hitting the ground, you never fully give yourself over to him. You never released all of what was inside of you. If he was the sky, you were a single raindrop resting in a storm cloud, waiting to fall if the pressure of it all became too heavy.
But with him, at least on the surface, it rarely got heavy these days, so you were always able to float around in the bliss of ignorance. Maybe one day, the cloud would pass by, or evaporate altogether. Part of you hoped it would, part of you didn’t want to experience the pain that it could cause. A life without him seemed empty – a desert void of life.
But what came next threatened a downpour.
“Well, I’m out of here,” Kento huffs, “I don’t know why either of you let me fall asleep. You both know I hate staying here past five.”
“Sorry,” you start, “you just look so peaceful when you sleep. It’s a nice change of pace.” You smile, throwing him his jacket that rests next to you. 
Kento let out a small hum in thanks, putting on his jacket in one quick move, swiftly exiting the room without a goodbye. 
“Bye, my love! I’ll miss you every second you’re not in my arms!” Satoru cries out, running to the doorframe to wave Kento off. You scoff at his antics, turning back to your work, you finish off the rest of your checklist with disregard. Feeling the couch dip, you feel a familiar warmth on your side as Satoru makes himself comfortable. 
“You know what’s funny?” he starts, “I’ve always noticed they way you mush your feet together. You do it constantly, you know that?” Taking his blindfold off, he loops it around his pointer finger, pulling the fabric back with his other hand. With pinpoint accuracy, he slingshots the band around your crossed feet. “They release a tiny amount of cursed energy when you do, it’s almost like you have a pilot light.” Obviously pleased with himself, his lips spread in a tight smirk, making your face feel warm.
God, you loath Satoru Gojo. The way his single observation makes your stomach do flips. Knowing that he perceives you. That he recognizes your patterns.
Suddenly, your hair is being pushed behind your ear by Satoru’s long fingers, his arm stretched across the length of the back of the couch. 
“So soft,” you hear him mumble, barely audible. His fingers linger on the back of your ear, slowly gliding down to lightly pinch your earlobe. You watch him intently out of the corner of your eye, at a loss for words. Although his touches were light, they feel like they burn. 
“Satoru…” the noise that leaves your mouth is barely a whisper.
“Hm?” he muses, fingers leaving your ear to grip your shoulder. His grip is firm, almost uncomfortable as he turns you to look him in the eyes fully.
This is one of those moments – he is sucking you in and you don’t know where you are going to fall.
-
That is how you two always seem to navigate, pushing the limits of what defines your relationship with moments like this. You were friends, colleagues even. You work tremendously well together, which both you and the higher-ups discovered after the death of Haibara, then the following departures of both Geto and Nanami. With just you, him and Shoko left of your former teams, and Shoko staying behind on campus to further advance her reversed curse technique, both of you were usually sent out together on missions.
At first, your missions were always done in silence, both of you trying to heal your traumas internally. In both of your defenses, navigating without verbal communication went on without a hitch. You danced around each other, synchronizing your attacks and defending the other’s back. You didn’t mind him taking the lead in most cases, because you were always exactly where you needed to be when the moment struck. You hate to admit that his looks of approval are what kept you going during that dark period of your life.
It wasn’t until you were at death’s door when feelings bubbled up to the surface. What seemed like a routine mission turned for the worse when a gaggle of special grade curses were congregated in your area. You were cornered, and with no way out, Satoru was forced to use his domain expansion. You knew it well, understanding the rules of the infinite domain. As long as you were touching, you were safe. 
But Satoru cracked. In the fight leading up to the point of his release of the technique, he became high off of the feeling of exorcizing strong curses. He hates to admit it now, but his vision tunneled, and he forgot about you. 
At that moment, you were not observed. You were not perceived. You were not recognized. You were an afterthought – a casualty.
As quickly as the domain exploded around you, it released. Satoru realized his mistake in a quarter of a second, but at the time, he thought that was all it took. Barely escaping the area, he raced back to Tokyo with you in his arms, your body breathing but lifeless. You couldn't respond to his cries, his profuse apologies, his pleads to the gods to let you live. Satoru Gojo thought he killed you, and he swore to you that he couldn’t, and wouldn't, move on without you.
Turns out that over the course of your time together, your roots were intertwining – hope for a new life manifesting in each other's strength to continue forward, despite everything.
You were out of it for weeks in a bed tended by Shoko. She cared for you, studied you. She took note that you were conscious, but unresponsive. It wasn’t until after where you told her that you were, in fact, conscious – all your senses worked, but you couldn't get your body to move. It was like you were frozen, much like how it was inside Satoru’s domain.
Satoru was banned from seeing you, although he often broke that rule. Every night you could sense his presence at your bedside, his delicate fingers tracing softly over your exposed skin. Those fingers always happened to make their way to your earlobe, pinching you softly there – a small plea for you to come to life. For you to sit up and slap him across the face for being so damn stupid.
And he would let you. He wanted you to leave him bloody and bruised. He wanted to experience pain by your hand. It was what he thought he deserved. That over you not talking to him ever again. Undoubtedly, that would kill him.
He received punishment from the higher-ups for being careless, to which he bore with no complaint. To this day he states that he is unsure what he would've done if you hadn't made a full recovery. Maybe it would have all been too much. 
But you recovered, and you forgave. 
You understood completely, knowing it was an accident. Yes, it hurt a little bit to know that he forgot about you, even for less than a second. Truth is, you forever want to hold a permanent residence in Satoru Gojo’s mind. Quite selfish of you frankly.
After your recovery, time went on and your plates began to fill. Satoru gained students. Nanami came back. New roles were filled. Expectations changed. Your relationship with Satoru continued strong, but it plateaued.
You were stuck in romantic purgatory.
Or so you thought.
 -
“What are you doing?” you finally ask. You struggle to find the emotion hidden in his eyes. They seem excited, playful, yet serious. His brows are furrowed together, hair now fallen in front of them due to the absence of his headband. 
Satoru’s lips pursed for a moment before speaking, “I-” he pauses, seemingly going over the words in his head, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you for a while.”
His hand has yet to leave your shoulder, his thumb slowly rubbing circles in the small divot located in the muscle there. It feels heavenly. Something about his energy seems so calming to you in this moment, and you acknowledge how respectful it is that he waited for a natural minute where you two would be alone. It was very rare these days. Whatever he wants to talk about, you know it’s important to him.
“Satoru, whatever it is, you know you can talk to me about anything,” you say with sincerity, placing your hand over his own.
Satoru gives you a soft smile, “I know,” his eyes travel and find their way to your hand on his, “but rarely does anything we talk about revolve around us.”
Us?
You can’t help the fluttering feeling that gathers in your lower stomach. Satoru was right, you barely had any moments to talk about anything other than work. Nanami and you were always away on missions, and he was always preoccupied with his students and Megumi. You had a moment together after the trials of the night parade and the aftermath of Suguru Geto’s death. You consoled him, took care of him for a short while. But, again, he was quiet. He was in mourning.
After that, when things turned back to normal, you asked Nanami if you could do your mission paperwork together in Satoru’s office from then on out. Any chance you had to check in on him was one you wanted to take. Nanami, being the angel that he is, agreed to this, knowing your intentions without even having to ask.
You have feelings for Satoru Gojo. You care about his well being more than you care for your own. The man labeled famously as God’s Favorite is simply just a man to you. No matter what he or anyone else thinks, you know Satoru is not invincible. He deserves to be protected too.
After a few beats, your stomach settles, and you continue on with more confidence than even he expected.
“Yes,” you begin, “we should talk about us.”
Satoru’s eyes widen by a millimeter, just enough for you to catch.
“Okay,” clearing his throat for a moment, Satoru continues, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you because I’m tired of just letting precious time pass by. You know I care about you deeply, right?”
You nod in reassurance. 
Satoru's eyes darken slightly. Taking his hand off you, he slumps forward in his spot, placing his hands under his chin, propping his head up. You watch as he looks forward out the school’s window, watching the pink skies as the sun begins to set.
He continues.
“You say so, but I don’t think you truly understand. When I thought that I took your life that day, like a dumb fucking idiot, I was prepared to rid this world of my presence completely. I know I’ve screwed up in the past, but I couldn’t screw up this.” Satoru gestures his hand back and forth between your space on the couch. “If I did, and I almost, I wouldn’t forgive myself. Things would have turned dangerous quickly.” The frown he bares hurts your soul completely.
“But we’re okay, Satoru,” trying your best to reassure him, now it was your turn to place your hand on him. Without much thought, your hand found its way to his thigh, gently rubbing the area with your palm. You felt his quad flex slightly at the touch.
Your hand is soon taken away to be held by both of his own, bringing them to his chin as well. His lower lip grazes the skin of your knuckles, sending a rosy flush to your cheeks. He pauses again, obviously finding it difficult to communicate his thoughts.
“Satoru, please,” your tone is soft, encouraging, “tell me what’s on your mind.”
What happens next feels like a whirlwind. One moment, you're sitting across the couch from Satoru, hand against his chin. Next, you are pinned underneath him with your head on the armrest, both his hands planted on either side of your face to hold himself up. Your legs are spread, the cold air touching the warmth of your panties under your skirt. His knee is in between them, pressing against the flesh of your inner thighs. Looking up, obvious shock sketched on your face, you meet his eyes.
Even in the shadow underneath his white hair, they shine with intensity. In the pools of blue, you can see that he is yearning.
You don’t try to move, you don’t protest his advancements. The closer he is to you, the more content you feel. Slowly, he brings his head down to yours, his forehead resting against your own. His breath is warm, smelling of sweet mint. With a lick of his lips, he continues again.
“I thought that you being alive was enough for me. That I could watch you go on, and just merely being in your presence, able to help when you needed me, would satiate my feelings for you.” You can feel the intensity vibrating off of his form. Satoru looks like a man who has starved for days finding his first meal. Is it terrifying? Yes. Do you love it? Yes. You can’t help the playful smirk that dances on your lips.
You don't know if you are going to regret the angle you are about to take.
“Then what happened, baby,” you purr, eyes challenging his own with a flash of pure lust. His eyes widen in what you can imagine is excitement.
“What happened?” Satoru chuckles, darkly, “What happened is I realized that I cannot go on if you are not mine.” 
Satoru’s lips crash into yours with ferocity. Although somewhat aggressive in his movements, his actual contact with you is soft and sensual. His kisses are unleashing his secrets, one’s that seem hard to keep. Parting your mouth slightly, you push your tongue forward to invite him in. Your tongues begin to dance slowly, mixing each other's spit to create a lustful potion. 
One of his hands comes down from the couch to under your shirt, tightly gripping your ribcage. Your hands come up to wrap around the back of his neck, your fingers playing with the short, velvety hair of his undercut. Satoru allows himself to come down slightly, resting his hips over your own. The corners of your lips turn up slightly at the feeling of the hard bulge in his pants against your core. A small moan escapes his lips at the contact. His body was reacting this way because of you.
How fun. 
You take it upon yourself to start undressing Satoru. You start by unpinning his uniform jacket, opening it and pushing it off his shoulders. Bringing your hands down under his white cotton shirt, you take a moment to press your fingers into his hip bones, then you slowly lift up the fabric. Satoru, in compliance, sits up and lets you lift his shirt over his head and up his arms. Shirtless in front of you, you can’t help but admire his long torso. He is lean, but strong. You notice one long scar that starts where his shoulder meets his neck and ends around his belly button.
Around his neck, there is a thin silver chain with a small pendant at the end. Instinctively, you take it between your fingers and notice that it is a small raw amethyst crystal. Hm, the crystal for the sign of Aquarius, I wonder- 
Oh. 
Your eyes move up to meet Satoru’s, and you give him a knowing look. The small smile he gives to you hurts your heart, as you can sense the obvious pain behind his eyes. He removes your hand from his necklace and lays it on his chest where his heart is. You know that this is his way of telling you that he is okay. 
Your breathing hitches in your throat as his hands come down to the top of your blue work vest. He quickly unbuttons the three buttons holding it together, opening it up, then grabs the bottom hem of your shirt and lifts it over your head, exposing your bra to him. 
Satoru comes down to gently nip at the squishy flesh of your upper breast spilling over. You hear him deeply inhale your scent, a small hum in satisfaction leaving his mouth. He quickly grabs the lace of your bra, tugging it down so your nipple is exposed to him. Trailing his warm tongue down the side of your breast, he latches on to your bud, giving it a small suck. 
The first gasp of the night leaves you, your legs tightening around his midsection in response to the stimulation. Satoru grabs both of your breasts in his hands, kneading them together while continuing his ministrations. You let your hand trail down his abs, passing under his waistband to find what you’re so desperately looking for. 
You make contact with the hard tip of Satoru’s cock, a bit of pre smearing across your fingers. You let your hand trail down further, wrapping your hand around the base of his length, giving it a small squeeze. Satoru lets go of your nipple with a pop, letting out a strained hiss at your touch. His hips instinctively buckle forward, causing your hand to stroke towards him. 
“Fuuuuck, baby,” he swears, tightening his grip around your chest. Not without protest, he shifts off of you, your grip coming back out of his pants. You give him a small pout, one he finds adorably sexy.
“I know, sweetheart, I know, but not yet,” he coos, cradling one hand in your hair, “I want to taste you first.”
Without hesitation, he quickly finds the zipper of your skirt, hidden in a fold on the side. In one quick swoop, your skirt and panties are off your body, down your legs and discarded to the floor. You are completely exposed to Satoru, now wearing nothing but your bra pulled off your breasts and your stockings. Kneeling on the couch in between your legs, you watch as he stares at your dripping cunt, a blush quickly forming on his cheeks. Now, you know Satoru is not the type to be bashful.
“What is it, Satoru?” you ask, shaky concern in your voice. Was something wrong?
“That’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he stares at your pussy in awe, his tongue slowly coming out to lick his lips.
You look down at yourself and your eyes go wide. Oh my god, I forgot.
Your hands come up to cover your face, your cheeks now burning hot. Of course this would be the case, of fucking course.
“I forgot,” you confess, barely a whisper, “my wax girl was always encouraging me to try something new. So when I went last week, I decided to go for it,” you gulp, “she told me all the different designs she could do for a landing strip, and I thought the heart one was the cutest.” You slowly begin closing your legs in sheer embarrassment, but Satoru quickly stops you, grabbing you by your knees and spreading you apart like a book.
If it was possible to Olympic-dive into a pussy, that was what Satoru just did. 
Satoru Gojo is sloppy. He is messy. Going straight for your hole, he snakes his tongue in as far as it can go, lapping out your juices and spreading them all over yourself. Wrapping his arm underneath your thigh, he brings it around to the top of your pussy to grab your mound, lightly pulling it back so that your clit is jetting out of your folds. Once satisfied with your wetness, he wraps his lips around your bundle of nerves, sucking rhythmically and flicking it smoothly with his tongue. Satoru’s other hand makes its way underneath him, coming out from under his chin to insert two digits into your heat. Once he finds the rough patch at the top, he makes a ‘come hither’ motion with his fingers. Your loud moans escape from you relentlessly. If this was a video game, Satoru Gojo knows all the lethal combos. 
You can feel the coil in your stomach tighten. Oh my god, you had no idea someone could make you cum this fast. Of course, Satoru Gojo is good at eating pussy, of course he is.
Hands coming down to grip his soft, white locks, you tilt your head back in pleasure. Satoru in between your legs feels natural – it feels right.
“Satoru! Oh-” you cry.
“Yes, baby, yes,” he says into your folds, not stopping the work he's doing to make you snap, “you going to cum, princess?”
“Yes! Satoru-” words escape you as you reach your limit. Cunt pulsing around his fingers, you fully give yourself to your release, crying out in pleasure as your juices spill over. Satoru grinds his hips into the cushions as your cum drips out of you, moaning himself, he makes sure to savor every last drop, scooping some out with his fingers and sucking them clean. His cock is throbbing in the confines of his slacks, begging to be inserted into your pretty folds.
You watch with half-lidded eyes as Satoru comes up from in between you, mouth and chin glistening with your juices. His face is flushed, hair in disarray from your grasp, chest heaving as he breathes in air after suffocating himself inside you. You feel yourself pulse again at the sight of him. He looks like an animal, and it sets off something primal inside you.
Sitting up from your position, not knowing exactly what is coming over you, you grab Satoru by his neck and guide him to a sitting position on the couch. Once he’s seated, eyes wide in shock, you swing your leg over his lap and straddle him, hand still remaining around his throat. His hands come up instinctively to wrap around your waist. His mouth is slightly agape, looking up at you with lust and, maybe, a little bit of fear.
At this moment, you don't give a damn if you look crazy. You need him.
“Satoru Gojo,” you begin, your voice laced with arousal, “I am going to fuck you so well, you’re going to go blind.”
All he can do in response is nod. Dipping your head, you bring your mouth to the crook of his neck, sucking and nibbling at his skin there. He moans, tilting his head away to let you explore further. Taking your hand off his neck, you work to open and unzip his slacks. Tugging at the waistbands of his slacks and boxer briefs, he lifts up his hips so you can pull them down to his thighs. You look down to watch as his cock slides downwards, caught in the band until you bring them down far enough for it to snap upward and smack his abdomen, Satoru letting out a pained hiss as it does. His member is long and thick with a pretty-pink tip. It’s quite beautiful, really.
You look up again to meet Satoru’s eyes with a devilish grin. You can’t fucking wait to feel his member inside you. With a couple of long, drawn-out pumps down his length, he tilts his head back over the couch to let out a long moan. It’s music to your ears. Bringing your hand to your cunt, you gather some of your juices and coat your fingers. Wrapping your hand around him again, you pump harder and faster this time, gliding with ease when adding your slick. Satoru can only grip harder into your sides.
“Oh, you’re going to kill me, baby,” he gasps, “please, sit down on my cock. I don’t know how much more I can take.” He brings his head forward again to rest on your chest, and you take the opportunity to kiss the back of his neck.
“Okay, okay, baby,” you comply, taking the fat tip of his cock and positioning your entrance on top of it. Satoru quickly looks up again, wanting to watch your expression as you take him in. Slowly, you lower yourself onto him, letting his tip enter the first ring of muscle. You can't help but let out a moan, bring your hands to Satoru’s shoulders for support.
“That’s it, that’s it,” Satoru coos, “take as much time as you need baby,” rubbing his hands in circles across your hips, he brings his mouth up to yours and slips his tongue in, to which you suck sensually. You can taste yourself on him, and it turns you on.
You lower yourself a bit further now that you have adjusted, and it feels euphoric. Although you know it’s probably best to wait a bit more, you can’t help but push yourself to the limit to fully feel all of him. You need him. Gradually, in one continuous movement, you take him to the hilt. Not breaking away from his kiss, you wrap your arms around his head and completely relax yourself. Satoru’s tip was resting on your cervix, and you decided to start off with a couple pulses for good measure.
Once he realized what was happening, he broke free from your lips and gasped, “Oh, you naughty girl. You could just do that and you would milk me for all that I have.”
“Another time,” you smirk and lift yourself about halfway up his shaft to then quickly slam yourself back down again. Satoru cries out, thighs flexing in response. “I want all of you.”
“Yes,” he cries out, “you have me, baby. You have me now. Forever.” Bringing his hand down to your heat, his fingers swirl around your clit. You let out a gasp as he takes your juices and brings it to your nipple, covering it with your slick. Satoru then leans down and sucks on it ferociously.
“Oooo, yes, baby, yes, I love that,” you moan out, allowing yourself to start riding him fully. “You have all of me too, baby. Forever.” You quickly find a good pace, the sounds of your bodies slapping together sends you into overdrive. You can hear your pussy squelching over his cock, making you more aroused at the lewd noise. Satoru’s hands have found their way to the plush underside of your ass, helping support your weight as you move up and down on him.
With his member pounding your cervix, his mouth working wonders on your breast, and his hands spreading you apart, you can't help but feel yourself starting to tense up, coil threatening to snap. Satoru recognizes this, feeling the familiar sensation of your pussy clenching much like it did around his fingers. He can feel himself starting to let go, but forces himself to hold it together long enough for you to explode. 
And that's exactly what you do. Holding him closely and shutting your eyes, your movements turn sloppy as you ride him to your release. 
“Satoru, Satoru, Satoru, yes, Satoru…” Crying out his name, you let go completely, giving yourself over to him.
Satoru moans out as well, and you swear you feel him twitch inside you, but nothing spills over. Opening your eyes and looking down towards him, you can see that he’s fighting to keep it together.
“Satoru-” you begin to question, but let out a yelp as he lifts you off of him effortlessly. The world spins, and you find yourself thrown over the armrest of the couch, head dipping towards the floor with your ass up in the air. Not more than two seconds pass before he’s grabbed you by the waist and is slamming into you from behind. 
“Ah!” you scream, tone somewhere between shock and pleasure, “Satoru!”
“Sorry baby,” he apologizes, but you can tell he's grinning from ear to ear, “but it’s my turn to fuck you.”
Satoru begins to pound into you without restraint. You can tell that he has one goal: to cum hard and fast. You’re obsessed with the way he lets his inhibitions go, knowing he can only be this vulnerable with you.
“Fuck, I-” he chokes out, “I- I love your smile. I love your eyes. I love your body. I love the way that you feel around me. I love your voice when you cry out my name. I love how-” his voice breaks again. You can tell that he’s reached his peak.
“I love you, god, I love you,” Satoru grabs you by your shoulders, lifting you up to him so your back is now to his chest. His arms wrap around you, engulfing you in a tight embrace and burying his face into your neck. His thrusts were not letting up, but they were getting sloppier. 
“I love you too, Satoru,” your heart swells, “You know I’ve loved you for a long time, baby.” You can feel tears brimming in your eyes and you quickly grab onto his forearms, craving more of his touch. You feel him nod into your neck. He knew, he always knew.
“You wanna cum baby? You wanna cum inside my pussy?” you coo at him. “Give it all to me, I want to feel you fill me up so good.” 
You felt Satoru tense for one last time. Slowing down slightly, he pauses every time he hits your wall. Bringing one of his hands down to your lower stomach, he presses into you to feel the sensation of him inside you. With one last thrust, he’s spilling over, and you can feel thick ropes of his seed coat your insides. If you felt full before, you were even fuller now.
Satoru came, but he didn't want to leave just yet. Very carefully, with him still inside you, he picks you up to bring you to spoon him on the couch. 
You laid there for a while, just enjoying the feeling of each other while you drifted in and out of sleep. While watching you intently and grazing the outside of your arm with his fingertips, Satoru decided then and there that he would formally ask you to be his girlfriend tomorrow, although he already wanted to call you his wife. He never thought he would allow himself to see a future with you, never thought he could forgive himself for putting you in danger. But now that he has made that step, there’s so many possibilities. All he knows is that he never wants to do anything without your support and love, and he will do anything to protect you. No one was going to take him away from you. He loves you, in every sense of the way. 
“Satoru?” you call out to him, still in a sleepy state.
“Yes, my love?” 
“You wanna sleep over at my place tonight?” You ask, a little shyly.
Satoru chuckles softly, “Of course, baby.” You feel him smile, hand coming up to pinch your earlobe.
The sensation sent you back in time. A time where you witnessed Satoru Gojo pleading for your future everyday at your bedside. You know now that he was pleading for something more – a  future with you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/n: Aye! Let me know what you think! <3
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