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#🐇 anon
allfearstofallto · 1 month
Note
College au is so delicious bc you can have Childe having to deal with the fact that you don't like him. Whether it be his sus vibes or how...dead his eyes look, you just don't like him. So you avoid him like the plague to save the both of you from any trouble.
But the thing is, he likes you and he's sure he can make you feel the same way about him. You'll come around, he's sure of it.
Just Childe engaging in pest behavior is all I can think about for this au
-🐇
Writing Childe without his power and assets is so goddamn challenging, but also so fun!
He's such a pest though. That pretty face can get him so damn far, I'm sure of it. I have to think about how easily I fell for Childe before it was revealed that he was super fucking evil, so obviously it wouldn't be hard for him to develop a pretty powerful influence with enough smiles.
Childe <3
College AU
Yandere! Childe x Fem! Reader
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You don't like Ajax? Or Childe as they called him. A stupid nickname, but one he apparently earned. Where he got it from to even who he was, you truly didn't care. You didn't like him and apparently that was a problem with everyone, but you.
You were okay with not having a relationship with him. The campus was big enough where you didn't have to see him if you didn't want to and you both studied different majors, although you put more time and effort into your study. He spent most of his energy on being the life of the party.
People didn't understand why you didn't like Ajax, apparently just saying that you found him creepy wasn't enough of an answer.The Ajax who made an effort to always invite you out? The Ajax who always wanted to walk you to and from classes even though you never told him your schedule? The Ajax who was the only person to buy you gifts for Valentine's, heart shaped, lavish chocolates and a bouquet bigger than your head, even though you weren't romantic with him? The Ajax that called and texted you at random hours of the night to “check on you” when you didn't give him your number? No. Not that Ajax. That Ajax wasn't creepy at all.
The worst part was his dead eyed stare. You wondered how people enjoyed his company when he had the eyes of someone with no true compassion, the eyes of someone who was obviously faking their emotion. Was everyone just pretending to not notice how his smile didn't reach his eyes, or had you truly gone crazy?
The dim, setting sunlight hit your note pages as you sat in the library to study, a typical thing for you to do when you had hours between your classes. And Ajax, the one who was failing almost every single class he took, decided to sit only a few tables over from you, pretending to be nose deep into a book for a course he didn't even take.
You could feel his eyes on you as you tried to focus on anything, but him. The books, the clocks, your phone, anything but him, where he sat unmoving. Why was today the day the library had to be empty? Where was everyone else who was supposed to be studying? Why were you alone with him, only a few tables between you.
A weight lifted off your shoulder when you heard someone stomping up the stairs to the library, calling his name loudly, “What are you doing here man? I didn't even think you knew what a library was!” they ostracized him while playfully smacking him on the back. They were obnoxiously loud, something that would've annoyed you any other day, but today you were grateful for their rudeness.
He was distracted. You could tell because you could no longer feel those eyes on you. This was your chance to scoop all of your books up and toss your bag over your shoulder, running out the door before he had the chance to notice you were gone. You breathed a sigh of relief, feeling the cool autumn air against your skin eased you more than the tense air of the library.
It was worrisome how much more you'd been seeing him these past few days. More than usual and not in the coincidental way. It was like he always knew where you were going. You tried to brush the thought from your head as you walked to your next class, trying to focus on anything else, but that feeling was back. The feeling of eyes on you. And not just any eyes. Those dead eyes. He was nearby.
You stopped in your tracks and turned on your heels with your eyes closed. In your mind, you were silently praying that it was just the nerves and your mind was playing tricks on you. That it was making you imagine the feeling, but sure enough, there he was, messy orange hair, charming smile, and lifeless eyes.
“You're jumpy today,” he said playfully. You took a hesitant step back, but he still closed the distance between you, with little hassle. All it took was two steps from his long legs and suddenly you could smell his oaky cologne. He tossed an arm over your shoulder and pulled you back into his chest, “You left pretty quickly back there. I didn't even get to say hello.”
“Sorry,” you muttered beneath your breath. His baggy clothes hid it well, but he was built firmly beneath them, all muscle with little to no fat. He wasn't choking you with this arm, not yet, but you could feel his ability to. And it would be easy for him to do.
His orange hair tickled your cheeks as he leaned down to be closer to your face, “You didn't answer my text,” his voice just barely above a whisper, his tone playful, but you could feel the malice behind it. He was annunciating each syllable of each word, speaking slowly so you couldn't say you didn't hear him correctly.
“T-text?” You stuttered back. Which text? Ajax texted you all hours of the day and night. Was he actually taking your dry, one word answers as replies? Was what you were doing to try to push him away only making him push back harder?
With an arm still around your neck, his other hand trailed down your body. His fingertips traced every curve of your clothed person, until they landed on the hip. He took this time to squeeze and groped your lower body before slipping your phone out of your pocket and typed in your password.
The blood drained from your face while you watched him scroll through your apps. No one knew your password. No one. Yet he typed it in like it was a regular occurrence for him.
“Didn't even save my number,” he whined, “Don't worry, I've got you.”
His name was changed from a string of numbers to “Childe <3” not giving you the chance to protest.
“You really are a bad girlfriend,” he muttered again, not caring about your lack of a response to him. Girlfriend? Since when were you his girlfriend? You felt like you were spinning in place and your head just felt so heavy. He was saying everything so casually, like you were supposed to agree with it, like you were the one who was wrong.
“Ajax, I think you've misunderstood something,” you said a little too quickly, but your lungs felt like they couldn't get any air in them.
It seemed like he ignored your words completely as he continued to scroll through his messages to you, where he was practically talking to himself, “See? Right here. I asked to take you out for coffee,” he held the screen up to your face.
Sure enough, he had. But you never responded and that text was quickly swallowed up by the myriad of other texts he'd sent you. His flirty messages were ignored by you, more often than not you only replied out of what felt like obligation and fear. Anyone who said you were lucky to have the oh so popular Ajax crushing on you, obviously didn't look into those empty eyes enough.
He sighed and using that arm around your shoulders, began to drag you in the opposite direction from where you were going. You tried to stop him and pull away, but his strength only made you stumble over your own steps, falling into his arms.
“Where are you taking me?” Fear was laced in your words as you continued to struggle in his grasp, but he didn't stagger.
“Coffee.” He spoke with ease as he continued to drag you along with him, that well built, muscled arm shifted ever so slightly to your neck and starting to choke, “I think we need to talk.”
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ghouljams · 8 months
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PLEASE DON'T HOLD BACK I WANT THE COWBOY AU INSIDE OF THE COWBOY AU!!!!!!! PLEASE IM ON MY HANDS AND KNEES!!!
(also can I be 🐇anon if it's not taken???)
You hear the shots before you can stop the duel. You’re just in time to see the dust settle on two bodies as you grip the handle of your kit. Two dead, what a waste. The mortician is already measuring one for a coffin. You sigh and push your hair back, start making your way to help before movement catches your eye. You whip to face the apparently alive deputy, and watch him push himself up to sit, gripping his bloody arm. That you can fix.
You hurry over to him, dropping to your knees to start pulling the needed supplies from your bag. “Almost had me worried, Price,” You tell him, cutting his shirtsleeve at the shoulder seam to yank it down. He hisses, grips his elbow to keep from flinching as you work.
“Can’t even spare me a ‘Deputy’?” He asks, watching you prod at the wound.
“Deputy is for winners,” You dip back into your bag and whistle at the saloon patrons for a stiff one. 
“Only you would consider this a loss,” He sighs, reaching for the glass the barkeep brings out. You grab it before he can and dunk your instruments in it. He grimaces, no longer interested in the drink. You hand him a strap of leather to bite as you shake the whiskey off your tweezers.
“You got shot didn’t you?” You tilt your head for a better look at the bullet lodged in his shoulder. Bullets lead to infections. You click your tweezers a few times to warn him before pushing them into the wound. You always hope the pain will be enough to deter any more duels in the future, but Price hardly does more than grunt. He’s got an iron will you suppose. 
You pull the bullet free and drop it in his waiting hand, a souvenir. Your fingers feel around the entry point, checking for any bone chips or loose lead. Price lets out a long breath through his nose, exhaling the pain. Seems shallow enough, and you don’t feel anything but the oozing of blood around your fingers. You grab the whiskey glass and tip it over the wound.
“Mmmmmmfuck.” He groans, and you can’t say you blame him, but you need to get some of the blood off. The alcohol works just as well as clean water at washing blood away. Even if the sting of it makes Price’s muscles tense, his breath shaky. You do your best to ignore it while you grab bandages from your bag. “Fuckin’ sawbones.” He grumbles.
“If you don’t want me to hurt you stop getting shot,” You give him a quick raise of your brows. You’re quick with the bandages, it’s better to be quick before the wound bleeds too much.
“Then how’d I see you?” He smiles, and you try not to smile too much in return.
“You could come to the clinic for once,” You tell him, tying off the bandage. His hand moves to rest on your knee, a comfortable weight you know well. He better watch that hand, you still need to get a sling on him.
“God I’d be good to ya’,” Price sighs.
“Yeah?” You tuck your supplies back into your bag and stand, offering a hand to help him up. He grasps your forearm with his uninjured arm and grunts as you haul him to his feet. “How’d you be good to me, when you can barely be good to yourself?” You twist to duck under his arm and wrap it around your shoulder. You think the way he leans against you may be slightly exaggerated as you help him towards your family’s clinic.
“I’d be good to ya’!” Price laughs, “Build ya’ a nice house and all the furniture in it, keep ya’ well stocked with patients.”
“You’d let me keep workin’?” You aren’t going to comment on how happy that makes you. Most men would be more insistent on their partner staying home, popping out kids, you like your work too much to give it up. Probably why you’re still single.
“Can’t deprive the town of their best doctor,” Price huffs out a heavy breath as you sit him down in the front room of the clinic.
“I thought you said I was a sawbones,” You set your bag down and go to dig through the clean clothes for a sling.
“And I’ll let you hold that against me the rest of my life, God I’d be good to ya’,” The way he says it, the explosive admission of it, makes you shake your head fondly. You focus on bending his arm into the sling, trying to keep the pain to a minimum. He grabs you and pulls you down onto his lap when you finish, both of you careful not to bump his arm.
“I think the heat’s gettin’ to ya’ deputy,” You tell him, making yourself comfortable on his lap.
“When’re you gonna say ‘yes’ to me?” He asks, and you wonder if most engagements happen like this. You don’t think so, Price is one of a kind.
“When you win a duel without a new hole to show for it,” You reach to brush some of the dust from outside off his beard, he kisses your fingers as they move over his lips.
“Might take a while then,” he relents, though you know he’s lying. You know better than anyone he’s never this careless when you aren’t on duty. It really is his best excuse to see you. You’re the only one he lets patch him up, and that’s just fine with you.
“Gives you plenty of time to build me a house.” God, you’d be good to him, you already are.
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satoruhour · 8 months
Note
🐇 hi t!!! i currently have this brainrot and i don't know who else but to share it and i thought HEYYYY what if i share this to one of my favorite satoru writers hdjfhdkdhdj don't mind me but omfg i've been listening to i know from travis scott's new album and i couldn't stop thinking about angsty(?) fucking with satoru, him cutting off the friends w benefits set up with you because he's scared of confronting his feelings with falling in love with you and he thinks he'll hurt you because he scared of the unfamiliarity of love to him,,,, but he's so into you, the way you momentarily stare into him after you pull away from a heated kiss, the way you wrap your fingers and hold his hands when you slowly grind on his cock, the way you look into his eyes with clouded lust when he's gripping your hips as he bullies his cock into you, the way you hold onto his wrists when he fucks his fingers and plays with your clit tenderly while he has your back on his pounding chest.........he just can't forget you and the chemistry so he pulls up at your residence, knocking at your door at 2 am intoxicated and high, and he's aware he isn't supposed to do this anymore but satoru always knows you'll be opening up the door for him and him only like his good girl with nothing under your velvet babydoll dress you'd always wear when he's around........he always finds a way to make you cry and begging in bed but this time it's different when it's you feigning hurt with the way he cut things off and left you, reminding him “you're just drunk right now,” or “it's just the drugs, satoru...” while he holds your leg onto his broad shoulders and his right hand rubbing your clit while he pumps his cock inside your warm pussy but he softly chuckles at your protests, his tongue licking your neck before he comes closer to your face, his thrusts slowing down as his eyes glances at your lips before settling his blue eyes on your low lidded eyes, telling you “i know baby, i know,” then kisses you momentarily just for him to bite your lower lip tenderly. he looks back at you, you practically have heart eyes all over, all dumbed down with the way he fucks you, a constant reminder that he has you wrapped around his fingers and he can't help but to bite his lip back,,,,,, he isn't yours, but he knows at the back of his mind that you're always his.
PROTECTED VULNERABILITY / STUBBORN HEART
a/n: anon ur MIND ! i need to tell u i had fwb gojo in my drafts 4 the longest time but i never continued. but also i cant tell if i like this or not, i hope i didnt disappoint u anon 😭 also i couldn’t handle the angst so i made reader also want gojo, but written not so obviously as him! cant put my baby thru all that and also ! i may have missed the angsty fucking part so it’s just gojo pining like an idiot
wc: 6.6k
warnings: fwb!gojo, gojo is crazy over u, dom!gojo but hints of whiny gojo, m! masturbation, oral (f and m receiving) / cunnilingus, clit stimulation, fingering, praise, pet names, reader and gojo are both high in the last scene, finger sucking, face-fucking, deepthroating, tongue-fucking, unprotected sex, overstimulation, creampie / breeding kink, multiple rounds, ambiguous ending, n*sfw under the cut
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gojo never liked to feel vulnerable.
he understands it fully when he’s got you on top of him for the first time, staring down at him, unaware he’s one of the strongest people in his line of work. you’re unknowingly setting every part of him ablaze, caged in like your body’s a branding iron and he traces over the crescent marks and the lines you made later in the bathroom.
gojo doesn’t recover after that, pondering over this vulnerability which only you could make him feel — the lilt in your voice, the softness of your eyes — it felt almost like it was just for him. his delusions don’t escape him, and rather it only grows worse each time he meets you. 
vulnerability was a state of exposure, like the way his skin singes under the sun or the unfamiliar feeling of infinity being turned off. it was like standing bare like venus in her birth, eyes forcefully turned onto her while on her scallop shell. it was like sitting on the steps of jujutsu high and getting a ridiculous question of why he didn’t chase after his best friend.
it was like turning his head to meet your sleeping form, calm and undisturbed in the late morning while he wishes you’d turn into a curse, bare your teeth at him and give him a reason to just flee. gojo felt so vulnerable he wanted to do anything but be here. he knows it all too well when it claws at his throat and makes his head spin. it takes the breath out of him and sends tremors through his fingertips. they’re just some of the uncomfortable feelings satoru braces himself for before he’s interrupted by your fingers unzipping his pants, and he loses himself to your skillful hands.
“baby— c’mon,” gojo laughs, tugging lightly on your hair that you moan, and you’re making quick work of his uniform, tugging it off and coming face to face with his bulge. it’s been plaguing him since the mission earlier, but with a quick call to you, you’re quick to show up in a t-shirt and pants, crashing his lips onto yours right at the door.
“okay, i’ll stop teasin’.” your sly smile told gojo everything he needed to know, a shaky breath leaving him when his cock finally leaves the confines of his underwear. his eyes can’t look away from the way your manicured nails wrap around his length as you’re circling your tongue around his tip. you pull him in with just your stare, collecting his pre-cum before you spit on his dick, taking him slowly.
satoru’s head falls back against his sofa, but it’s not for long when he knows you taking his cock down your throat is the hottest thing he’s witnessed. sure, he’s gotten blowjobs before, and he’s moaning as he is but gojo never quite feels the rush of adrenaline throughout his whole body, never the shortness of breath that catches in his lungs.
“love your cock in my mouth, gojo— mhm…” he’s hoping you can pick up on the fact that he does not want you to say that, because it makes everything harder for him, a high-pitched yelp leaving him when you start to suck on his balls, hand still pumping his shaft and you love the way gojo’s hips buck into the air, juices pooling in your panties.
everything feels just right when you bring his hands to your head and get almost all of him into your mouth, nose buried in his pubes and taking in the musky scent of his body — gojo lets out a drawn out whine when he lets himself loose and your eyes are rolling back further and further into your head as the hours pass. his hands are so large on you it drives you crazy as well as it does to the other when you’re twining your fingers with his while you sink down on him, when he squeezes your hand when he’s about to cum. your giggles are muffled by the kisses you share in the late night, unknowingly giving into your questions about him.
the next day is blurry as gojo finds himself handing his card over, in a haze since the previous night, the only thing standing crystal clear was the cutest babydoll dress hanging on a rack.
so the next time you meet, he’s passing you the gift with a whisper in your ear that he expects you to wear it every time he���s around and you have half a mind to smack him on the arm. i’m not like you! reusing outfits and stinking them up! gojo only laughs hard before your snarky remarks are swallowed by the sorcerer, soft moans and pants weaselling out from your lips while you let him use you in a changing room; he doesn’t tell you how your sounds make him dizzy.
in between you’re accepting his calls with a cheery voice, sticking through to your babydoll dress promises. a culmination of feelings building up until gojo truly feels like he can’t breathe — he manages each time which makes even him impressed with himself. but then you’re meeting his kiss halfway when he’s rubbing at your clit gently from below you, drawing out the most lewd sounds from you, the buzzing feeling of your body against him — it’s too much for gojo sometimes.
and the last, before gojo satoru is finally stripped down to his core and that recurring impulse to push people away starts bubbling up again, and yet he tries to find an excuse each time to even catch a glance at you. he knows despite his inability to admit it to himself.
he knows this like he knows many things — the ins and outs of his technique, what food megumi liked, your favourite fruit — but not even the sweetness of an Amaou could convince him of the very feelings he’s swallowed and buried under the very soil he wishes to grow strawberries from. at least he knows he’s fucked.
but the knowing halts when it comes to when? was it when you’re no longer rushing to leave his place after hookups? was it when he sees traces of you in his home? was it when he’s handing over his card to pay for a dress he wasn’t even sure was in your size?
your whisper of his name brings him back, and his bright eyes seem to lighten just a little; in it you can see the crash of the oceans and the scent of it. gojo smells like that — saltiness tinged with caramel and sweetness, scent lingering in and around you whenever you’re not with him. you’ve been making new discoveries about him ever since, even more so today when your heart pounds with the way his hands are on you, feeling a little foreign from how long he hasn’t contacted you.
“are you alright?” you mumble, hips halting at the stupor gojo seemed to be in, until he silently nods, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth and lifting you off of him. it confuses you a little before he settles you on his chest and you shiver at the vibration of his chest.
“spread your legs, baby,” you sigh when his hands trace over your thighs, the coldness of his hands against the warmth of your thighs feeling so good, even more so when he coos in your ear at just how wet you are, drawing languid circles around your clit. “so wet, hm?” you hum whilst turning your head to face him, eyes flitting straight down to his lips when he licks them.
“just f’r you, pretty boy,” your giggles are consumed by gojo’s eager lips, meeting yours halfway in a rough kiss as he starts to rub at your bundle of nerves. even your moans are swallowed, muffled by gojo’s own needy ones before your hands fly up to clutch at his.
“g-gojo! f— fuckkk…” at this point, you’ve completely succumbed to the man behind you, body limp to his ministrations; they’re relentless even when your hands hold his wrist captive. 
“right there?” gojo chuckles into your ear, hot breath fanning across your ear. it trails into giggles when a drawn out yeahh… makes its way out of you, “my good lil girl.”
you preen at the praise you’ve heard multiple times before, but for some reason your heart only
jumps at gojo’s words no matter how you look at it. with his other hand, he’s positioning it at your entrance, slipping in his finger with a groan that reverberates through his toned chest. there’s moans and whines exchanged, the musky scent of sex flooding every corner.
before long, a second finger joins his first, eyes locked on the way your drooling cunt sucks him in easily while your juices coat his palm, a glistening, filthy sight as he sets a pace. gojo laughs again when your other wandering hand wraps around his wrist, too.
“s’too full,” you whimper, head thrown back across his shoulder, thinking your tightly clenched hands did any work, but if anything, it only spurs him on further. the abuse on your core is endless, feeling with a shiver down your back, the lazy circles on your cli  and the spread of his hand widening to fit more of his fingers in you.
“you’ve taken my cock before, darlin’, you can do it.” satoru coats your shoulders and neck with kisses, that lone sentence making it clear to him he wants you more than just this one time. he wants this over and over until you’re crying and the sheets are soaked, until he’s made so many cups of morning coffee for you that he can’t count them on one hand. there’s a brief falter in his movements when he realises this, an uncomfortable stifled gulp until you’re whining into his ears, hands beckoning him to continue and he brushes it away like he always does.
you’re cumming easily with the arch of your back, but gojo is still in a daze about your life together. maybe you’d gift him a box of kikufuku when he’s back from trips, maybe you’d patch him up after a difficult mission even if you didn’t know what his job entailed. there was too many maybe’s, something gojo wasn’t willing to bet on. for now, he’d focus on the way—
—the way moans lingered on your lips when you came as your body reacted so well to his fingers, clutching on his lanky frame while he pumped you full. he watches when your eyes roll back and your neck reveals itself and he laughs into it, telling you how he’s the only one to make you feel this good and you’re nodding frantically.
gojo’s heart warms at that while his throat dries and it’s like he loses confidence and he feels like a virgin all over again — so blessed to have you under him while he’s suddenly hyper aware of how your cunt feels around him. it’s divine, you’re divine; he stifles a small confession and masks it with a cry. a cry that was of pure desire which couldn’t be expressed, and he blinks away the tears before they could come because you feel too damn good; and if he looks at you one second more he would confess everything.
“you okay?” gojo brushes the sweaty hairs that stick to your forehead, getting a blissful smile from you afterwards while you merely pull him down for a kiss and satoru feels bile creep up in his throat at the tenderness which you connect your lips to him. you’re leading the kiss so slowly and sweetly he wonders if you ever prefer his lips over your Amaou strawberries.
“’m okay, gojo.” the last name is reminiscent of the stagnant distance between you, “are you?”
satoru sniffles just a bit and nods, “y-yeah. let me go get a rag, ’kay?”
you don’t answer after because of your fatigue, merely letting him slip away from your fingers while you calm your heartbeat, rather settling for his scent on the bedsheets and you ignore the redness of his eyes, letting him take care of you as the night falls into an uncharacteristic quiet.
words are difficult in this arrangement after the rules have been set. we’re here to fuck, not to solve each other’s problems, and you’re giving him a curt nod and a sultry smile before you taste gojo satoru for the first time. it has been like that since then, although gojo has been more silent than usual, but words—
words are difficult, and so you leave it be with a deep sigh and a dreamless slumber, not aware of the other.
it’s when the rush of water hits the pail, gojo realises he can’t carry on much longer, of the pull you have on him, on the chemistry, the words dying on his lips when he sees you already passed out. with a gentle hand he glides the rag over you, careful not to wake you, and it’s getting difficult separating love from lust when he’s wiping you down so gently like this.
gojo is gone when you awaken, his side of the bed cold that signals to you he’s been gone for a few hours now, and you’re hoping to get a greeting of him posing beside mochi, or a trinket from a neighbouring district. his work made him travel a lot, you heard, but the specifics are a hushed topic — he wasn’t yours to know intimately anyway.
you’re halfway changing into a babydoll dress he got you, the material sleek and comfortable enough to be worn at home, glancing at the phone with one arm in the arm hole. you frown.
[11:12, gojo satoru]: hey. i think we should stop this thing we have goin on
gojo’s fingers regret the very moment he’s sent it, because you do nothing but type and stop and linger online. he makes it worse with a second message, and multiple more.
[11:14, gojo satoru]: i have uh… a work thing that might interfere with this. 
i’m sorry y/n, you were.. great. i loved every second i spent…|
he let his feelings run and accidentally clicks ‘send’ and panics, unsending it almost instantly. he has to catch a breath before he types it out again.
[11:15, gojo satoru]: i’m sorry (y/n), you were.. great. thank you for the arrangement fr
had a lot of fun while it lasted, also sorry i used all ur face wash hehehe ~
gojo groans into his hands at the way he easily reverts back to his playful disposition, a coping mechanism he’s picked up since high school and he hates how he already misses how he was with you.
“what the fuck are you moaning about now?” shoko asks, obviously irritatedly as she dissects another transfigured human, and her private time on studying the oddness of the disfigured curse is undoubtedly ruined by her friend’s incessant groaning.
the sorcerer is spread out on one of the seats in the morgue, “nothin’.”
“is it that friends with benefits thing you have going on?” he rolls his eyes behind the blindfold. years of dissecting people probably granted shoko with the ability to see through people, both literally and figuratively. gojo simply waves a hand and takes his leave, phone already on do not disturb to avoid seeing your reply. that’s the first time shoko catches onto his inner turmoil, the tear between wanting to protect his heart and the desperation to let someone in.
[11:20, delivered]: oh
but you know when it’s started for him. you think it was the moment you’d seen the change in gojo’s eyes. there wasn’t just carnal need for you, not just lust. amongst little specks of darkened azure you can see the softer hues of baby and lapis; but what do you know, right?
those same eyes stare back at you in the profile picture he set after a drunken night together. you reply with the only thing you can manage as you try to convince yourself it’s what you want. 
[11:21, delivered]: oh okay
you feel like a schoolgirl throwing a tantrum again, the pounding in your heart reaching your ears like a droning drum and you feel like you cannot breathe. your pillows are the victim of your unfiltered scream, paired with multiple profanities until you’re left with no more fire in you. gojo satoru had taken all of the heat with him.
that was friday; on sunday there’s a notification at the end of the week that tells you your screen time went up by 9%.
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nanami and shoko were never one to reject a drinking night on a monday, sharing an unsaid (and reluctant) conclusion that maybe they should bring gojo along even if he’s only going to be sipping on apple cider. but while usually gojo is boasting about his terrible alcohol tolerance, tonight he’s buried in an arm he wishes was your neck, the burn of the whiskey nanami begged him not to drink reminding him of your touch.
“thousand yen and a new dissection set for when gojo goes back to his friend with benefits within one week.”
“ah, when, not if? you seem pretty confident,” nanami comments from across the table in the fairly busy bar, leaning back with an unreadable expression upon his face.
shoko only shrugs, “something tells me he’s definitely moping in his—”
“can we please stop talking about me like i’m not in the middle?” his words are muffled by the dark blue uniform he dons, white hair looking strangely duller as he tries to get some shuteye in a damn bar; foolish enough to lose sleep over you that he’s been messing up on missions. even nanami was surprised to be assigned to harder missions upon learning about gojo’s mishaps.
his grumbles fall on deaf ears, the clink of their glasses only highlighting satoru’s torment, the mediocre performance of the band on stage only adding to the headache that was forming — and it’s not long before gojo loses all senses. he has to be lugged out of the bar by nanami as shoko just grins, still as fresh as she arrived as she shouts a good luck! and the stoic sorcerer is left to deal with his senior. by now, gojo has already talked his ear off while he decides what to do with the lanky man, a call to ijichi halted when the strongest sorcerer starts to mumble out incoherent words.
“she’sss… she’s so beautiful i— i don’t… nanaminnn i don’t know what to fuckin’ do,” gojo mumbles into the lapels of the other’s suit. “i feel like i might— i wanna die whenever i’m with her because…”
gojo sniffles. he’s driven to tears easily, the liquor in him intensifying anything and everything. his last confessions are slurred, albeit softly. “i can’t breathe around her.”
there’s a tense silence that circles them for a few minutes, nanami considering his next words carefully even with the soft whispers of your name leaving his lips, and then, there’s also the awkward hard-on nanami can feel on his thigh and he’s trying so hard not to wince — at least gojo’s pants were darker in colour. he can only muster sighs when people on the sidewalk give him looks.
“gojo. i’m not a stranger to your… tendencies,” nanami’s voice cuts through harshly, thinking that his senior may be napping, but he’s surprised to hear a hum leaving his throat, “but you’ve been lacking. in missions, in teaching. it’s never this bad.”
monday. it’s monday and it’s been three days since he broke it off. all it takes is some whiskey and nanami kento to break you down, but he doesn’t say anything after, standing in silence with him until the alcohol wears off just a little more and the sorcerer’s able to gather his cursed energy to teleport. but all gojo can sense in his home are the residuals of your cursed energy. it stings his nose like an odour, something he should be repulsed by, like the pungent smell of copper after visiting shoko or the strong tang of the fermented tofu you’ve tried making for him.
weirdly it only makes the ache in his pants worse when the cursed energy fills his head and messes with his; it reminds him of when you’d be too impatient to make it to the bedroom, letting gojo take you on the couch, to the ride of his shirt up your hips when you first wake up. plopping onto the sofa, he almost succumbs to sleep, alcohol breath and all, but manages to flip himself over, fingers stumbling over his zipper.
your name is the first thing that leaves his mouth as he palms his bulge, soft grunts sounded out in the quietness of his house. his head digs far into the couch as he focuses on you atop him working your magic, grinding onto his front like a tease with your hands on his chest. he removes his underwear with a sigh, hand immediately starting to stroke himself.
“oh— shit, y-yeah,” satoru has no restraint, no decorum, whines filling the room while the slick noises of his fist increase in volume. he thinks of every bit of your body moving against him, water against rock, icarus against the sun.
gojo squeezes his shaft and remembers all the times you’ve wrapped your own hand around him, nails newly done and paid from his pocket as the baby blues move up and down his dick. he rubs a thumb around his tip, and the way his tip leaks pre-cum is almost sinful.
“baby, oh fuckk—” his head pounds from the bright light and the alcohol, and the way his eyes are scrunched tight. “you feel so fuckin’ good.”
satoru’s hips are lifting off his sofa, humping into thin air while his hands speed up, and he’s close, getting some notification from nanami which draws his attention to the wallpaper he set of you: sheets dangerously low on your chest, eyes resting from the long night. it makes him sob out your name because you don’t know what you do to him, until.
until gojo reaches an unsatisfying peak, a cry on his lips and spurts of his cum staining his hand, but it feels nothing like you. the liquid’s spread across his hand like hot water, the guilt burning his body before he chucks his phone to the side and prays to any god that they would have mercy on him.
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a gasp is heard. your figure shows itself through the babydoll dress, looking stunning as always with your doe eyes. he knew you’d always open the door.
“gojo.”
alcohol is prevalent on the man standing across from you, and you’re partially surprised to see him in front of you after just one week calling your whole arrangement off — somewhere, someone you don’t know is gifting another unknown person a new dissection set with a mere ¥1000 bill on it. something tugs at your heart at his flushed face and messy hair, maybe it was your feelings, maybe it was the wine you drank before this. you also take note of the unbuttoned dress shirt he’s got on, the wrinkles and dishevelled state of it driving you a little insane.
“baby…” gojo smiles like it was a late night drinking with the boys and it was you welcoming him home, but it’s different when you’ve fucked and received kisses like he loves you, all while he’s standing at the corridor of your apartment building. you’re hoping he’s only a figment of your imagination, because you’ve banished him from your mind since last week. oh well, you tried anyways.
“what. do you want?” there’s a slight buzz from the wine you drank, amplified when he slowly makes his way into the familiar space.
“you—” the other hiccups, and he has to keep a hand on the doorframe from collapsing. if he’s strong enough to do that, you think he’s probably one drink in, bordering on the line of being high and slowly descending into drunkenness. in his hand there’s a bottle of apple cider to quell the alcohol; you stifle a smile.
“i’m not the one who called it off.” you hold your ground, not even noticing the attachment you have with the velvet on your body, feeling satoru’s fingers play with the soft fabric of its hem.
“and yet you— you wear this dress like it’s your underwear, always opening the door f’r me a-and… fuck,” it comes out softly upon feeling up your thighs and settling on your ass cheeks, void of any panties. he gives it a good squeeze and a small whimper leaves you, forced to cosy up to his chest when you stumble forward.
“you’re just drunk right now, gojo, sayin’ shit like that…” you trail off, finding any excuse to not open up the scab on your heart again, pushing at his chest like you didn’t want to taste the rum on him, like you didn’t want his body on yours and taint him with sauvignon.
gojo proves you wrong over and over again at how he’s got your dress flipped up later, neck bent up to accommodate his tall stature while you’re supporting yourself on the flimsy shoe rack as he pulls your body flush against him and toes off his shoes — he’s skilled at multitasking like that.
“need to be inside you, baby,” he groans, fingers fumbling with the dress he bought and he almost cums just from feeling up your body, “but first.”
you’re swept off the floor and your hands are quick to wrap around his neck, following the route to your bedroom like he’s done many times before. this time, there’s a different kind of thrill, looking down at your hazy eyes as you’re both intoxicated on liquor. it’s different from the time he took the current picture of his contact in your phone (you hadn’t deleted his number), it’s different from every other day.
“gojo…” is all you can muster when he plops you down a little roughly on the bed, and you have the privilege of seeing him strip out of the button down shirt, forearms flexing against the shirt as he reveals his toned body bit by bit. you can’t help but refuse to lose, legs spreading just a little to show him all the wetness you’ve gotten just from kissing him.
“angel,” he looks a little starstruck by the sheen of your pussy, swallowing until he’s finally out of his shirt, “you look fuckin’ beautiful.”
your small smile tells him you already know that (“pretty girl, takin’ me so well like this.” a whisper into your ear in that changing room) like you know how you’re probably the only one to get him like this: panting, mouth parted, cock aching to be in you — you’re just better at hiding your own.
wordlessly, you swipe two fingers along your folds, collecting your slick before they come to rest upon his lips, taking it into his mouth willingly. they swirl around your digits and he hums at the taste, divine as always, teeth scraping your skin when you easily unbuckle his pants and peel the underwear off of him.
“can i call you satoru?”
you don’t even have to fucking ask, he wishes to say but all he answers with is a shaky “yes”, and he never wants anything to do with the gojo clan any more. if you asked him to quit being a sorcerer, he would, because all he wants to be associated with is satoru and the cadence of it falling from your lips.
even one week was too much for you, so you’re quick to get to your knees, going straight to putting his fat cock in your mouth. the moan gojo lets out is straight pornographic, and he’s missed this as much as you did, knowing nothing could compare to his hand when your mouth was second to your cunt. lovingly, his hand caresses one side of your cheek, filled to the brim with his length.
“so fuckin’ warm, holy fuck—” bobbing your head, you keep a steady hand on his thighs, because with one look to him, he’s whimpering out, hands loosely tangling in your hair. you moan as his hips start to buck into your mouth, and with a small nod from you, the hands on your head tightens before he starts to thrust into your cavern, bringing you down to his pelvis ever so slightly.
there’s guttural sounds coming from the back of your throat as you deepthroat him, eyes brimming with tears before he lets up. his thrusts don’t stop, though, and he fucks your mouth like an animal, lewd noises flooding the room as drool falls from your mouth. you’re moaning as you play with yourself, the vibrations causing the other’s hips to stutter.
“g’nna c—” it’s a shame how fast gojo cums, but it’s only fair because of the way your mouth feels on him, tongue flexing against the underside of his shaft every time his cock disappears into you and he’s shooting hot liquid down your throat after, unloading into your throat as you swallow easily. you’re used to the bitter taste by now.
“s’big,” you giggle, naturally taking over as your hands squeeze out the last bits of cum from his cock, and the way it drips onto your tongue is orgasmic, “love your cock s’much, satoru.”
gojo brings you up by your arms, and he has to taste himself on you first before he’s fully taking off his pants, smiling just a bit when your legs spread again and your pussy is practically begging for him. “enough of me, let’s focus on you.”
you raise an eyebrow while he’s inches away from your cunt, ignoring the rasp of his voice like it hadn’t made you shiver, “me?”
“yeah, you, my pretty lil thing.” you hardly digest what he says before his mouth engulfs your core, and you let out a deafening moan, hands closing around your bed sheets as he starts to suck on your clit. his tongue is ruthless, flicking at your nub and wrapping both arms around your thighs, tugging you into his face like he wasn’t close enough already.
“oh g-god— satoruuu…” his name falls from your lips countless times and gojo’s eyes can’t help but shift to your face at the pretty sounds that come from you, zoned in on eating you out until his chin is wet with your slick.
“look at me, princess,” gojo is taken aback from the blissed out expression on your face, but it doesn’t falter him, a resolve settling in his bones, “thaaat’s it, baby.” and you struggle to hold his stare when those familiar blues comes flooding back into his irises while his tongue doesn’t stop any of its movements, knowing your ins and outs. you can feel the fabric below you starting to soak, pussy dripping endlessly.
he gives you one last lasting look before he moves down to your entrance, tongue slipping inside while his nose nudges your clit and your hands fly to his hair. gojo hums into your cunt, affirmations of good girl mixed in with moans that send chills up your body.
“close, aren’t ya?” you roll your eyes at how he’s so confident now, sobriety coming to light a bit and rum leaving his system the moment he’s got your pussy in between his lips, but he’s not wrong because you can feel the coil in your stomach twisting and turning, hearing him groan out when he uses a free hand to stroke himself.
his tongue returns to your clit and gojo sucks hard until you’re pulling on his stark white hair, screaming out his name and profanities as you cum, leaking so much juices that it’s made a dark red spot on the inside of your dress. he laughs softly into your core before he’s back to slurping all of it up again and your legs close involuntarily; all he does is tut and spreads them again and he’s on a mission to make up to his mistake of ever thinking of leaving you.
your body is limp by your third orgasm, grasping at satoru to feel him and he takes your hand to plant kisses on them, and to tell you to wait. but that almost proves difficult for you when he’s got you all spread out like this and the quiet, dazed gojo is gone momentarily because he finally knows what he wants.
even if he had to fuck you silly and plant strawberries himself and make more coffees and open up old wounds again, gojo is going to do it all, because the call of his name is sounding more and more like heaven each time and he’s tired of burning at the side when he’s willing to fight fire with fire.
“satoru,” you whine out when gojo places your legs on his shoulder, and it gets him so much deeper in you, buried to the hilt. by now, you’re getting bent into half as he eases his cock into you with a groan, your soaking core laced with juices acting as lube.
“what is it, sweetness?” he asks breathlessly, pressing a soft kiss to your ankle and you’re mewling out again. god, he wanted you like this every minute of the day.
“f-feels s’good,” you moan out, fingers wrapped around his forearms as they grip onto your waist.
the other leans forward and you clench up at how your body folds even more, eyes hooded and soft pants leaving your lips.
“i know, baby, i know,” the glimpse to your lips is brief but you catch it as he coos, and you close the gap as satoru starts his pace, sinking into your warm pussy like it’s a drug. your lips intoxicate him more than rum ever will, slipping his tongue in you and he can’t help but nibble on your bottom lip, a grunt of how tight you are whispered against you.
as gojo continues to rut into you, your lips are continually captured by the other’s, small, sweet kisses leaving your heart beating as his eyes bore into yours before his hand reaches down to rub at your clit, sending sparks throughout your body.
the room is filled with the scent of sex paired with the squelching noises of your cunt, sucking him in so well that his hips falter and he loses his speed whilst admiring you; the you whose pupils look like they’ve morphed into hearts and your jaw remains slack from how good he rails into you.
a man whose feelings weren’t this strong wouldn’t fuck into you like this, wouldn’t make you cum thrice like you’re his baby and then fuck you nice after. a man like that won’t get up fifteen minutes earlier to boil water or swap out an old tube of face wash when it runs out.
but are you even ready? even with the undeniable pull satoru has on you, you cannot get the feeling of being thrown aside when you’ve done your part out of your chest, the weight crushing you worse than his body weight in the morning.
“s’toru! s-shit,” you whimper, legs tightening around his shoulder as your hands scramble to grab his hair, feeling already so fatigued and yet, you’re dizzy on the way gojo satoru makes you feel. satoru is no different, an immovable haze settling over his eyes when he stares and he’s so caught up in everything — your eyes, your hips, your hair splayed out below him that he’s blurting out the first thing in his mind. “i love y— this fuckin’ pussy, fuck.”
his heart is pounding, and he stops abruptly at the stifled slip-up, mouth dry when you shoot him a confused look and a small satoru? you okay?
“y— yeah.”
i couldn’t do it.
gojo gulps and he feels tears well up in his eyes. it’s weird, for all his confidence at the start begins to dwindle at such simple words that he can’t mutter out and he shakes his head, burying himself into the crook of your neck and you’re brought back into bliss when he continues, taking note of the slight turmoil he’s going through.
gojo feels like he cannot breathe when you pull him from your neck, albeit with difficulty; both your eyes flutter close as his forehead collides with yours, and he just savours this moment with (hopefully) no judgement from you. he breathes in your scent, takes in your moans in his ears as his pace slows and he angles his hips and his eyes open to meet yours again right as you both cum, pumping you full with mingling moans as you gush all over his cock.
and just like the first night, you’re drawing him in with everything — he falls harder when he sees you reluctantly ignore the tears in his eyes, knowing he didn’t want to talk about it, knowing you’d be asking about it later. with your gentle voice, your fiery touch.
gojo never liked to feel vulnerable, but at thirty he thinks it’s time for a change when you first embroiled him in this complicated arrangement of quiet, yet tumultuous feelings. he can feel the three words weigh his lips down when you’re brushing away the tears later with a sad smile, scooting yourself closer to the chest that’s doing a bad job of hiding his heartbeat.
“what’s gotten my satoru cryin’, hm?”
gojo sniffles at my, holding onto one of your hands, and he says nothing but only succumbs to your arms when you tuck him under your chin, feeling safe in your chest as you both fall into routine. silence befalls the night, a certain dread taking over him that you’d be gone by morning as his breaths even out.
but when birds sing in the morning, his heart sings louder at the sight of you reading a book beside him in an old shirt he was convinced was lost, the faint smell of toast waiting for you outside. he’s tucked into your side and his arms have naturally wrapped around your body, your own playing gently with his hair and gojo thinks not all is bad when you read between the lines of his feelings. because as much as he knew you, you knew him and his habits, his quirks, too, and there’s an unsaid rule about how—
satoru never liked to feel vulnerable.
vulnerability was a state of exposure, like the way he accidentally burns himself while cooking pancakes or feeling the heat of the coffee radiate off your cup. it was like standing bare in your shower, eyes locked onto yours while he cleans you up. it was like letting his heart be stripped away by you who peels away the layers like you do to his underwear and the hard-boiled egg on the stove and the orange in the grocery bag.
it was like loving you, even if it tears at his technique and mocks the very powers he’s perfected to be untouchable, but you’re able to permeate his barriers and neutralise his infinity with something as simple as a kiss to his forehead.
that, gojo satoru may never be able to understand, but like himself, he doesn’t need to know every single thing.
all he knows is that with the way you capture his heart, he knows freedom from your embrace is something unattainable, but he wouldn’t have it any other way — that in itself is enough for his stubborn heart.
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beautifulbrainrot · 8 months
Note
HEAR ME OUT!!!! COCKWARMING PRINCESS REID AS A PUNISHMENT- 🐇
ooo yesyesyes!!
(i’m def gonna write more on this, but have this for now!)
18+
CALLING PRINCESS REID SPOILED!!!!!!!!! (even though ur the reason he’s so spoiled honeslty 😭😭)
he is like crying, his eyes big and teary, begging you to move
twirling his hair, pulling on it slightly as you clench very lightly around him
GODDDD I AM FERAL, calling him your spoiled little princess, OMGG!!!!
the whines he would let out, pouting because your just sitting there on in and it feels so good but he needs more!!!
when you finally start riding bim, he is an absolute mess, just little ah, ah, ah!’s spilling out of his parted lips
also after he cum inside of you, still bouncing on him, overstimulating him beyond belief, till he’s cross eyed, drooling and cryinggg
send in more asks about everyone’s fav princess!!
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charliemwrites · 4 months
Note
Ok great cause I've been DIEING to do a ask about them but didn't want to if you weren't ok with it
(Don't do this if you don't wanna for any reason)
One morning johhny and reader are still chained to the wall and reader wakes up and hee leg and hip and really bothering her and Simon dosnt come down for another few hours but johhny sees, he knows her tells and trys to coax her to at least feel a bit better but inside he's getting more and more agitated cause he can't help he r like he wants. By the time simon does come down reader has tears running down he race and is trying to rub her thigh and hip to ease it, the second johhny notices him he's just cussing at him to let him go or to do something and johhnys just tugging at his restraints to get to her. What would simon do in the end?
-🐇
Hey! Ask away, this is a great question!!
First order of business would be taking care of Kit. They’re in obvious, intense pain and the pup can yap all he wants but ghost’s first priority is taking care of his kitten.
He would disappear into the basement and come back with some of the Good Drugs. Johnny would be sobbing to see the instant relief on their face when it takes effect. While Kit is all floaty and limp, Ghost would help them stretch out and flex, massaging at the nerve pathways.
Then he’d unhook their collar. Johnny would perk up, instantly alert and demanding to know where Ghost is taking them. Ghost doesn’t answer, more focused on Kit babbling at him as he carries them upstairs.
Kit is laid in his own bed upstairs, specially designed for the chronic pain he also deals with. Once they’re settled in and half-asleep, ghost goes back downstairs to Johnny.
He lets Johnny curse and shout and fuss, waits until he winds down. Then calmly wipes at Johnny’s teary face with a damp cloth. Ghost explains that he’ll be allowed to come upstairs too if he starts behaving. Kit needs to be in bed, but this is a courtesy to Johnny, and it can be taken away if Ghost decides he should lose the privilege. And Johnny, even though he’s still pissed, nods. His worry for kit outweighs his anger.
Ghost takes him upstairs as well, doesn’t even correct him when he darts off to the bedroom and instantly climbs in with Kit.
“Easy pup, don’t hug too tight,” ghost reminds. Johnny grumbles, but eases his hold a little. Kit just hums and pats clumsily at his face.
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cringecannon · 6 months
Note
How do you think Astarion would react to learning about dhampir/that it is even remotely possible for vampires to reproduce in the traditional sense? I realize this is highly dependent on if he's still a spawn or Ascended, but I'll admit to being curious as to what your take on this would be. - 🐇
He'd be ecstatic either way, I'd think.
If Ascended, it's another way for him to exert power. Over you, yes, but he sees a bigger picture. He has you and his spawn, but you're flighty on the best of days, and his spawn have to be commanded to do most anything correctly. What would be more loyal than a child? Something in his image, wide-eyed and trusting. He can shape them into whatever he desires. With your legs thrown over his shoulders and your fingers laced with his, he tells you he can't wait. He doesn't care how long it takes or if it's even possible. He will not stop trying until he gets what he desires, and what he desires is you, full of his spawn. His true spawn.
If he stayed a spawn, he'd be hesitant. The idea is enticing, more than he'd like to admit, but... what if it wasn't even possible? What if something went wrong, he couldn't bear to live with the knowledge that his greed got you hurt, or worse. What if- you'd have to quiet him, taking his face in your hands. You might tell him that you're willing to take that chance, if he is. You leave the decision up to him, happy with whatever he chooses. He broods on it for nearly a week, and by the next time you lay with each other you'd almost forgotten the conversation. He presses his forehead to yours and whispers that he wants to try. You simply smile, pulling him close to kiss him as he thrusts into you. He wraps your leg around his waist, and you pull away just enough to look into his eyes. Nothing exists except for you, him, and your future together. It's bliss.
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flutteringcunt · 3 months
Note
Can I come pick you up and take you into the woods where we could settle down and get a bunch of bunnies and other fur babies? and just spend every day alternating worshipping every inch of eachother? No stress just being Happy and always together, and probably lots of breeding 🐇
we’d breed like bunnies for sure 🩷
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crimsonbubble · 1 year
Note
graves (or price tbh) having a partner who has a thing for biting is the funniest thing to me
like imagining graves or price trying to focus on very important work and their partner is just. biting their neck/shoulders and it’s both parts annoying and sexy— no matter how many times they tell their partner to stop they won’t until they get attention and the second graves or price gives them the slightest bit of attention and that look (helloooo brat tamer!graves and price) it’s over it’s done you’re screwed
i may or may not have a newfound thing for biting
- 🐇
the graves brain rot is lucys fault @lucyisdoingfine
sitting in graves' lap while he's doing paperwork and you just keep biting and nipping at his neck
and he's told you to stop a few times already but you just want his attention so you keep doing it
then he just wraps a hand around your throat and just gives you a stern look that makes your heart race
he either plays for time and drags out any kind of touch you get from him or bend you over his desk
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kumezyzo · 3 months
Note
hii, its 🐇
i was wondering if i could make a request; sapnap secretly is head over heels for reader but only his friends know and they tease him for it, causing him to become a nervous wreck around reader
it can be headcanons or a fic i don't mind!! thank uu
again, super short, please dont hate me 😭 thank you for requesting this months ago 😭😭 i made it a little angsty as per my writing style, but i hope you dont mind. it gets a lil fluffy at the end. no real angst here 😁
anyway, enjoy! or dont :) m.list
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crush!sap really just wants to be around you. he doesn't realize that doing that makes him short-circuit.
he becomes a blushing mess. he talks like a bumbling idiot. he laughs at all your jokes. it gets to the point where his heart rate speeds up with even the mention of your name. and he begins to think it isn't very healthy for him.
everyone around you seemed to know crush!sap was obsessed with you. whenever he made a move to stand closer to you, talk to you, or even just stare at you for too long, the people around you would share a knowing glance. until it got slightly annoying and they started teasing him
"sapnap, stop flirting with them and get your ass over here."
"oooh, they're flirting againnnn!"
"so then you- can you stop staring at them and pay attention??!"
and his reaction was always the same. blushing, looking away from you, and running away from you.
then, crush!sapnap truly started avoiding you. for his own medical safety. and you began to assume it was cause he didn't like being thought of as your bf.
but, you talked to him about it. cause that was the only way you thought it could quell your thoughts.
"hey, can we talk?"
"oh. um- uh- y-yeah, sure..."
"are you avoiding me?"
he was already blushing by you catching him off-guard. now, you had caught onto his plan and it made him feel a little sick.
"why would- ha- why would you say that?" he would ask nervously.
"look, its fine if you are... i guess. i just kinda wanted to know why..." you'd say awkwardly. he would just stare at you, opening his mouth to say something but shutting it over and over like a fish. "mostly because i like you and i recently started thinking you felt the same way. so if thats not the case and thats why you're avoiding me then-"
"no! no thats not why!" he would say nervously, trying to interupt you before the conversation went somewhere he could reverse. "its because i like you!"
you stare at him, puzzled. "...huh?"
"you make me go fucking crazy. all the time," he sighs. "and it actually hurts when i see you and i know you're not mine. so i would rather just... not see you all together..."
"oh..." butterflies would errupt in your stomach. and your heart would start beating abnormally hard. abnormally quickly. and you started to realize why he needed to get away from you.
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happy ending, kisses and hugs. just realized i lowkey fucked up the tenses at the end... -nony
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poppy-metal · 3 months
Note
I love milfs(who doesn’t tho) so now I’m kinda obsessed with the idea of Jordan with a milf so here’s the thoughts my little brain worm came up with.
Jordan x milf!reader where their the first person to give you an orgasm. Since your POS husband can’t(the guy probably doesn’t even know where the clit is, but Jordan does).
Jordan x milf!reader where they your eat pussy because your husband never does, he considers it gross, mean while Jordan there eating it likes their last meal
Jordan x milf!Reader, where at first you don’t wanna cheat on your husband because you want to be seen as the picture perfect family, but see texts between your husband and his secretary. After that all thoughts of cheating go out the window and you find yourself bouncing on Jordan’s cock.
Jordan x milf!reader where they rub their cunt against yours because you’ve been so stressed out lately and deserve to be treated like a princess. They also get a sick satisfaction of being the first women you’ve been with intimately.
Jordan x milfreader where they fuck you with their strap because they’re desperate to show you pleasure doesnt only come from a male. They also love the idea of seeing you come on their cock no matter what form their in
Jordan x milf!reader where they breed your pussy not only with their cock but also with their strap. They have a sick obsession with cream pies no matter what form their in.
Jordan x milf! reader where they not only eat you in masc form but in fem form too. You can tell the slight differences of you they treat you during sex. Their masc form is a tad softer like a soft dom meanwhile their fem form is a hard dom. No matter what form their in they have you whimpering, blabbering mess when their done fucking you.
Jordan x milf!reader where they managed to make you squirt once and every time you guys fuck their end goal is to make you squirt again no matter what form their in.
Jordan x milf!reader where they have plenty of video and photos of you guys fucking. Sometimes their tempted to send it to your POS husband, but don’t in fear of getting fired and that mean they can’t see you or the kids.
Jordan x milf!reader. They suck on your tits because your still producing breast milk. Sometimes it hurts so Jordan offers to suck on them to ease the pain.
Jordan x milf!reader where the kids say they like Jordan more then their own dad.
That’s all I got
C’est la vie 🙏🏽
Also can I be 🧜🏾‍♀️ or 🐇 anon. Idk what emoji are taken
jordan li sucking the titty milk from your tits aurrrrr..... god and they love fucking you as a woman so much, turns them on that your stupid ass husband thinks he doesn't have to worry, that hes comfortable, meanwhile your pussy is getting pounded by jordans strap - the biggest dick you've ever taken.
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skzthoughs · 7 months
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hiiiiii ive got a dirty thought for you hehe like ive seen ur post about minnie and innies hand and OMG THAT GOT ME THINKING HAAAAARD bc cmom look at jeongins hands like they are so pretty and so big and i cant get the image of him holding both chans wrists with one hand and i just keep imaginin him doing that with reader and reader gets all flustered bc it was supposed to be an innocent touch and he gets so cocky about it saying things like "so you like my hands, baby?" and just finger fuck reader aAAAAAAAAAA im so going to hell for this omg
(i absolutely love ur scenarios btw and youve been one of favourite blogs !!!)
anon 🐇
hihi, love! sorry for just answering now 😭 and thank you so much!!!
so…. the situation would be just like that clip of chan and jeongin….
maybe reader would be teasing jeongin by tickling him and after a while he’d get a little annoyed. he would tell you to stop but you didn’t even listen so you kept bothering.
once he got enough, he’d grab your wrists with one hand, eyes looking at you with dead serious expressions.
“yah, stop” he said but you tried to set yourself free from his hands, but you were not able to do so.
you just looked down at his huge hands and dirty thought filled your mind. his fingers were long… the veins were prominent… they were so…. fuckable.
you were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even realize for how longs you’ve been staring at his hands and how flustered you got until his voice snapped you back.
“hm, so you like my hands that much, baby? do you want to how what are they good for?” he whispered close to you ear.
🫠🫠🫠
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allfearstofallto · 27 days
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Genuinely believe that yandere lyney would pull all the stops to keep your attention on him, even if it means he's gotta do a backflip into your pussy. I feel like a less serious darling or even an unaccustomed to fun darling would be good for him bc they'd easily go along with him and his public displays of neediness.
-🐇
SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!!! THIS IS LITERALLY A SNIPPET FROM THE LYNEY FIC IN WRITING RIGHT NOW!! BUNNY YOU'RE SO FUCKING RIGHT!!
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IM LITERALLY SCREAMING, IT'S SO CRAZY THAT YOU GOT IT!!
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ghouljams · 8 months
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*Gasp* Can we get 1870! Cowboy Au Valeria??? What would she be??? How would she meet her partner??? Is it slow burn or do they move fast??? Does she try to kill her partner, like enemies to lovers or maybe it's lovers to enemies to lovers?!?!
I don't know what this is, I just want more Valeria....
Can I please have more of her ಥ⁠╭⁠╮⁠ಥ
🐇
Actually yeah you can because I have ideas for her and Los Vaqueros in the 1870 au, I'll do Alejandro and Rudy later, here's Valeria:
El Sin Nombre is an outlaw that no one has managed to come even close to capturing. Their gang is feared and loved in equal measure, both for the safety they provide and the money they take for providing it. It's a large bounty on El Sin Nombre's head, large enough to draw the most desperate of gunslingers, or the stupidest. A bounty that big is basically a warning. You're not one to get involved in squabbles like that. You think in another life being a gunslinger might be fun, but in this one you're a stable hand. A horse trainer on a good day, a muck shoveler on a bad one.
On the best days you get to see Valeria. She's not in town often, only when she's looking to break in a new horse or collect a shipment of some kind, but when she is it's like the whole world holds its breath. You hold your breath, until she tells you to relax. She always looks over your horses with a critical eye, asks you questions about their health, their speed, whether they spook easy, if they've ever been out in the dust. You don't know what sort of work she does, but you know it wears her horse down fast.
The poor creature is always in need of something when she rides into town. It's a lovely chestnut stallion, that you think might be the proudest horse you've ever had the misfortune of trying to care for. You've been nipped by it more times than you can count. Really you should stop accepting its reins, but every time Valeria holds them out to you, you have to take them. You can't ignore an animal in need anyway. Especially when she thanks you every time you hand him back.
"He's just as good as new," she compliments, petting the horse's neck. The animal preens at her touch.
"I called the ferrier and got him new shoes, gave him a bath, he had a small abscess in his mouth but a little salt water'll clear that up quick," you pat the horse's flank and try not to flinch away from the stamp of its foot.
"Play nice, I like this one," Valeria coos to it in Spanish. You don't think she knows you speak her mother tongue, you're never sure how to bring that up.
"Did your, uh, business go well?" You ask, trying to make conversation. Valeria signals for one of the men she's with to pay you and hooks her foot in her stirrup to swing onto the horse's back.
"What do you think, did it go well?" She asks her group, the Spanish lilts off her tongue in a way that drives you half mad. One of the men laughs.
"As well as a bullet through the brain, and more money in our pockets."
Valeria hums, you pretend you didn't hear or understand that. It makes your blood run cold to think about. You do this a lot around Valeria, pretending you don't have suspicions about her work, fearing and loving her in equal measure. She really looks beautiful from the ground, the sun shining behind her head and casting dark shadows over her face.
"Things always go well for me," she tells you in english, and you believe her. You think the earth would quit spinning if she asked it to. All the stars in the sky would line up perfectly straight if she commanded.
"That's good," you nod, taking the money offered to you by her subordinate graciously. It's always smart to be gracious when dealing with people you suspect.
"Do you like working here, this-" She grimaces, "-shithole?"
"I like it better when you're here," you tell her honestly, it's good to be honest with people you suspect as well. You never want to be caught in a lie that could cost your life. Better to be honest, especially when it's complimentary.
Valeria laughs, throws her head back and laughs. You think that's a good sign. When she finishes, she pulls her hat from her head and leans to settle it on yours. "You should be careful with your sweet talk," she tips the hat low over your eyes, "next time I might steal you too."
You push her hat back as she snaps her reins to take off down the street. The sun might be getting to you with how warm you feel. You think something might've just happened, you hope it was something good. Because you're starting to think the man with no name might be a woman, and that is a much more dangerous line of thinking.
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femmelovefemme · 5 months
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I just wanna please you, and be a good girl while you praise me. Having you sit on my face while I get my treat and do whatever mommy tells me, following your instructions~ would love to hear small praises as you hold me under the covers, kissing me tasting yourself on my tongue and all the stress, pressure and insicutities go away thanks to you<3
-🐇
aww baby of course mommy will help you relax after a hard day. lay down baby and stick your tongue out. mommy will ride your face and tell you good you're doing. how good you are to me and how good your tongue feels on my wet pussy. just pushing my hips into your face making your head sink back into the pillow while you don't have to focus on anything that isn't the way i moan out praises for you while you do exactly what you were made for: pleasing your mommy <3
and after that how about i get you into a nice warm bath? huh?
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meiladys-world · 6 months
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Miss Mei, needs me to be a horny little thing, I'll obey. I'm a good stress toy. I'll obey. Miss Mei knows the best for me. I'll obey
Bunny going to sleep after browsing and not touching herself 😭
-🐇
You can't touch but you can tease. That's not so hard right? ~
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charliemwrites · 4 months
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(Don't do this if you don't wanna for any reason)
What if simon gets stuck at base for a few days and so johhny comes to babysit her butt it's late and she's asleep on the couch and Johnny goes over and runs his hand down her back to try and gentle her awake but she startles and and hee eyes snap open and she sit up all fast but still dosnt realize it's him and ends up falling off the back of the couch and hurts her arm pretty bad and has a few bruises, what would johhny do? How would simon react when he gets back the next day after having to stay late for something at base?
-🐇
Ohhhhh no the poor things (both of them)
You’re happily dozing, waiting for Simon to get him, expecting that he’ll scoop you up and take you to bed with him like he usually does when he works late. You vaguely hear the door open, sigh contentedly when you feel a big warm hand run down your back. Hum softly.
A pair of hands gently curl under you, scoop you up off the couch. You snuggle your face into his neck and starts pressing kisses - and that’s the first inkling you get that things are wrong. He smells…. wrong.
“Uh… stray? I appreciate the warm welcome, but…”
JOHNNY?!
You scream and flail, he curses, tries to catch you - but it’s already too late. You go flopping into an end table, and which holds one of the lamps, and topple the whole thing over.
“Oh shite,” you hear as you groan. “Fuck fuck… are you okay, wild thing?”
“Owww…. What are you doing here? Simon said he wasn’t going on a mission!”
Johnny’s face appears over you, looking regretful.
“He got held late for a briefing,” he explains. “Come on, up you get!”
You growl as he helps you up, through it gets cut off by a yip as several forming bruises make themselves known. The lamp didn’t break (made of metal) but it’s definitely going to leave an ugly mark on your hip.
“Oh, poor thing,” he coos. “Ow, fuck! Okay I might have deserved that.”
He sits you at the kitchen table and gets some ice packs but you both know it’s not going to help much.
“Is there any way I can bribe you not to tell Simon?”
“He’s not blind, Johnny.”
“Aye, well…. Remember me fondly.”
“No.”
“What the hell happened, Johnny?!”
You whine, tugging at his sleeve. “No time to kill him, you’ve been gone all night.”
Johnny so owes you.
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