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#and everyone has so much to say about me and the way our relationship ended fifteen years ago but that’s on him not me
whateversawesome · 22 hours
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Spy x Family Chapter 97: An Old Love Story
Okay, say it with me: FOIL!
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You can see it too, right? Looks like Martha x Henry (Henderson)'s story is a foil of Twilight and Yor's story.
Henderson was in Twilight's place; the smart, lonely young man so focused on his ideals that he was blind about who was in front of him and his very own feelings.
Martha was in Yor's place, the strong and graceful girl too young and inexperienced to know her own heart and that she was in love.
This is exactly what's happening with Twiyor, the main couple of the story, and I think we may get to see one of the possible endings for our beloved Twiyor through Martha and Henderson story.
Now, what do we know about these two 🤔...
We know that Henry Henderson has a daughter and a son-in-law. It was mentioned he writes to them, but there was no mention of his wife. This leads me to believe that:
His wife is no longer alive.
He lives with his wife, so there's no reason for him to write to her.
He is divorced.
So, with this information we still can't know what's the current relationship between Martha and Henry, but we can take a guess 😉
From the way the story is being told, it almost feels like it's a semi-tragic love story, doesn't it? We can almost assume that they didn't end up together...or did they?
Theory one: Yup, everyone is right and Martha and Henderson eventually went their separate ways for reasons we'll probably get to know in the next couple of chapters.
If this theory is right, I think it's beautiful that they are getting a second chance 💖They certainly look more mature, confident, and calm (also elegant!). I love the way they look at each other, so much trust and love 😌
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Theory two: I know this one is a long shot (and Henderson just said in that panel that "She is merely and old friend") but maybe...they're actually married. Why am I so bold to even consider that possibility?! Well, there's this panel:
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The matron is clearly teasing Master Henderson, don't you agree? If she does it, it's because she knows something. Either she knows that there was something between those two in their youth or she knows they are married. I don't know, but they way she said the word "partner" and the fact that Master Henderson is married made me think that Martha is his wife. I know, I know...it's a remote possibility, but you have to remember that marriage is mentioned a lot through different characters and couples during the story, so maybe those two were actually married. (But, it's quite possible it's theory one).
Other things to consider...
How long have Ostania and Westalis been at war?
My guess is that we're talking about two different wars between the same countries; very much like WWI and WWII, where there was a brief period of peace before a second conflict. So, probably the first war started while Henderson was in his 20s and the second war started when he was in his 40s (and Twilight was a kid).
It makes a lot of sense that now they're in a period of "Cold War", just like in real life.
The Garden
I am convinced that the Garden is involved in this. I've talked about this before (read it here). After this chapter, I still think the Garden is going to pop up. Want some evidence?
Do you recognize this guy?
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That's right 😏 That's Matthew McMahon. What is he doing there? Too much of a coincidence, don't you think?
And also the way this is phrased:
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Odd that there was a mention of the word Garden, isn't it? And the fact that the whole story between those two takes place in a garden...🤔
In addition to that, in a previous chapter, Twilight observes how Martha moves like a soldier. Franky mentioned earlier that Garden people are like soldiers. And the Garden has a history of recruiting young skilled/strong people, like Yor. Things keep adding up.
The Consequences of War
This is a prevalent theme throughout the whole SxF universe: how war (violence, intolerance, manipulation of information, propaganda, politics) has affected the life of all the characters.
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No matter their background, nationality or education, we've seen it again and again with most of the characters big or small, like Twilight, Franky, Sylvia, Millie, and now we're about to see it with characters from an older generation like Martha and Henderson.
My guess is that this won't be the last time and this pattern will continue while the story lasts. I think what the story is trying to show us is how war is seen by some (politicians and men in power like Desmond) as a natural, inevitable course of action, but at the same time how brutal the consequences are in the smallest stories. That's one of the things that is truly remarkable about SxF.
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bymarara · 15 hours
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Will and the Boys Don't Cry.
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Remember the picture when we were first shown Will on his birthday? In case anyone hasn't noticed, there were headphones in the picture and let's think, who else was wearing headphones and under what circumstances? Uh, Max! Max wore them so that she wouldn't fall under the full influence of Vecna and become his victim, music helped her so called survival.
Now let's get to why Will carries them around. I have two suggestions.
Everyone on the team has headphones now just in case Vecna decides to face someone.
Will is scared. Will himself realizes that he can feel Vecna's presence, in addition he will probably hear him, his voice and his thoughts, which will be very frightening to Byers. Because of the fear, he may choose his favorite song and walk around with headphones on at all times, so that if anything happens, he won't be influenced by Vekna and Vekna won't take over Will's mind. I also think that there will be a similar situation as with Lumax, that Mike will have to turn on these headphones in case of anything, I think Will will warn him alone about it all, thus trusting Mike.
Now something I've been thinking about very, very hard. Most people, and I think or thought that Will's song would be “Should I Stay or Should I Go”, but if you notice the details, you can see the poster in Will's room! “Boys don't cry”, this song references Will in a lot of ways, and if it's in season 5 in his headphones, it will be very symbolic, and will show the meaning of everything we've seen.
Let's take Max as an example. She has “Running Up That Hill” in her headphones. The lines from the song literally refer to what Max is feeling and it also shows how she feels about Billy and how she regrets what happened at the end of season 3 and how she would take it all back. The chorus from her song, literally speaks to Max's morale and what she wants. -And if I only could, I'd make a deal with God, And I'd get him to swap our places, Be running up that road, Be running up that hill, Be running up that building. If I only could, oh These lines literally refer to the fact that if Max had known what would happen, she would not have stood still, but would have tried to help her half-brother. She would have been ready even for the same death as her brother, as long as he did not die. Also, there are very interesting lines like.
“You don't want to hurt me,but see how deep the bullet lies.” which refers to their relationship while Billy was alive. The guy hurt his sister, which she hasn't forgotten, and that deep down inside of her, she wished him dead inside of her, which she now regrets.
What about Will? I know most people have already figured this out, but for those who haven't and don't know the context - this song is about the inner thoughts that guys have when they're going through an unpleasant/transitional moment in their lives. It's also popular in the LGBT+ community. Let's go through the parts that I find most interesting and start from the beginning. -I would say I'm sorry, If I thought that it would change your mind. But I know that this time, I have said too much. Somehow it reminds me a lot of Will helping Mike with his relationship with Al, while ignoring his feelings and even confessing his feelings while hiding under his sisters name. Also, I think there's a season five reference here. I mean, Will could talk about the painting and the speech, but not say what he meant about his feelings! And the lines “I would say I'm sorry if I thought that it would change your mind.” show that Mike could have left with some anger and it left a mark on Will and that he can't even apologize now, and that apologizing won't change anything. (Yes, I know I sound creepy, please.) Now let's get to the chorus. -I tried to laugh about it,
Cover it all up with lies. I tried to laugh about it, Hiding the tears in my eyes. Cause boys don't cry. Boys don't cry. Sounds like Will's confession to Mike to me. He's not showing his real feelings, he's hiding everything under the “Al” mask. and underneath the mask, he keeps his feelings hidden, not showing them. He himself, quietly crying, quietly suffering, realizing for himself that his feelings will never be reciprocated, that he will have to live with it and come to terms with it, and he buries it all by himself and tries to cope with it all by himself. -I would tell you, That I loved you, If I thought that you would stay. But I know that it's no use, That you've already, Gone away… Again he says that he has buried all his hopes and feelings, he sees Mike pulling away from him and as if he is walking away from him, so talking about feelings, about declarations of love is useless in his opinion. Literally the whole song shows Will, shows a guy who in his opinion has already missed his chance, he realizes that he can't change anything and hides himself and his feelings only deeper into himself.
I hope that Will will have this song in season 5, but I will also say that there is a possibility that in case of anything, Mike can play this song, so much in this song refers to Mike.
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Not Our Time
Cheater!Chris!Sturniolo x Fem!Reader
Warning: Wrist grabbing, cussing and that’s it
a/n: this took a while, hope you guys enjoy it
You were tired of it. The lying, sneaking, yelling, arguing. Everything. You found out Chris has been cheating on you 2 weeks ago. You loved Chris so much that you tried your best to see it through, pretending that it wasn’t true. Last week after you found out You went to confront Chris about the whole situation but, he kept brushing it off. Telling you that it was before you guys knew each other and there was nothing to worry about. You knew better than to trust what he said. Chris knew he couldn’t have his cake and eat it too, but he never felt the need to quit his ways.
Right now You and Chris were currently in his room trying to figure out what went wrong in the relationship. Chris’s phone was in your hand, the messages between Chris and some girl displayed on the screen. Tears were threatening to roll down your face, but you needed to be stern to get through to Chris. “Y/n it’s not what you think” Chris said running his fingers through his hair. “Then what the fuck is it Chris, cause it looks like you cheating on me” You said putting your hands up in defense. “I’m not cheating on you that was a long time ago you are just being delusional” Chris says annoyed. “CHRIS DONT FUCKING LIE TO ME, THIS WAS 10 FUCKING MINUTES AGO ” You say yelling. “YOU ARE DOING TO FUCKING MUCH SHES JUST A FRIEND” Chris says yelling back. “Oh she’s just a friend, I didn’t know friends sends nudes to each other” You said sarcastically. “YOU ARE FUCKING CRAZY Y/N” Chris says yelling at you. “IM CRAZY, YO BITCH ASS CHEATING ON ME WITH A REJECTED VICTORIA SECRET MODEL AND IM CRAZY” You say yelling while getting in Chris’s face. “First of all watch your tone with me, I’m not one of your delusional ass friends who you can talk to like that” Chris says grabbing your wrist. “You are a fucking joke Chris” You say yanking your wrist back from his grip. “So what now you’re gonna break up with me” Chris says crossing his arms. “Yes exactly what I’m gonna do” You say laughing a little. “Wait wait you can’t be seriously willing to end this relationship over this” Chris scoffs getting worried. “Well no it’s not just that, you treat me like shit and act like I don’t mean anything to you so why stay” You say passionately. “Baby, don’t leave me I’ll change” Chris says walking towards you grabbing your hand. “That’s what they all say Chris” You scoff. “I mean it I won’t do it again, I’ll cut everyone off, I’ll treat you better, I’ll give you anything you want, I’ll give you more attention just don’t leave me Y/n” Chris says, voice breaking. “Chris I will always love you, but I can’t sit here and let you treat me like this anymore” You say, a tear rolling down your face. “I can do better I can change for you, I just need time” Chris says putting your hand to his face for your to hold. “I can’t sit and wait for you to be a better person Chris that’s something you have to do on your own, we were right for each other once hopefully we can be right for each other again someday, but it’s just not our time” You say crying. “Y/n please give me another chance” Chris says grabbing your waist pulling you closer to him. “I can’t Chris we have to be apart for a while, until you learn how to respect Me and Yourself” You say rubbing Chris’s face with the pad of your thumb. “I love you Y/n” Chris says as his voice breaks. “I love you too” You say before giving Chris a long passionate kiss. “See you around Chris” You say giving him a final kiss on the cheek and walking out of his room, on your way to start a new life without him. Leaving Chris with his regrets
I haven’t posted anything in a while plus I want to start posting more Chris fics 🧎🏾‍♀️
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wttcsms · 3 days
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the shoyo hinata concept i have is fun and definitely on my mind more often (despite it always being on my mind for the past 2+ years LOL), especially with all this "bop lore" shit i see on the internet.
enter in reader, who is our marketing major girlie and your university has a bunch of alum who entered the jva corporate workforce (like kuroo 🤭) so you snag an internship that gets you working closely on the promotional ads for the msby black jackals. you're in college, you like to party, and you have no issue with finding guys who aren't just down to fuck, but are literally wanting to fuck you specifically.
but with that comes a reputation. everyone on campus considers you a slut, and then a girl posts a tiktok airing out your business and basically saying that you ruined her relationship, that you slept with her boyfriend and that you're a home wrecking whore, etc. you already had a bad rep but now this is traveling from beyond your campus.
you lost all your friends, you're on the receiving end of the nastiest dms of all time (ranging from guys who wanna get lucky to girls going out of their way to purchase witch curses to be cast on you from etsy), and the only thing you have left going on is the fact that you still have your internship with the jva.
there's a lot more ground to cover, but you end up spending a lot of time with hinata & of course you two fall in love, but what makes this concept just so much fun for me is the fact that i 100% hinata is the guy who says he doesn't care about your body count or that he doesn't care about your past & he actually means it. and i love my emotional wreck readers, so of course you have trouble actually believing him even though you really want to because you're scared that if you let him in, he's just going to reveal that he's as awful as everyone else!!!!!
and ofc, touching on your flings and hookups, the guys you've been with are hardcore into degradation. calling you the worst names, saying that sex is all you're good for, and afterwards they're like bro, it's just some dirty talk. yeah, but it makes you feel used and dirty, and after hearing something so many times, ofc it sinks into ur subconscious, esp when it's being said by someone who doesn't even know you. you used to be fine with the dirty talk, but after everything that goes down, you despise it. and then you get with hinata, and he is just so !!!!! 100% giving you pleasure gets him off. and he's so heavy on the praise for you!!!! just, reclaiming your reputation and finding someone who loves you enthusiastically, wholeheartedly, and unconditionally
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skullvgirl · 22 hours
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a strange dream | barou
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incl. barou 🎀 ( he would kill me )
warnings. completely sfw, fluff, school!au, fem reader, very much ooc, slow burn
an's. i missed him so much i had to revisit
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BAROU probably hasnt got any interest in you before your relationship, not in a bad way but lets be honest—he's a soccer addict, he definitely wouldn't notice you until well, he did.
you're both sitting in math class (which did i mention had one hell of alot of students) and someone from the other side of the room asks to pass a note to you, rumor has it they've got a crush.
eventually the note ends up in the large hands of Barou Shouei and he's of course expected to pass it along to you but doesn't see anyone ahead of him expecting to receive it from him. he's confused—who the hell was yn ?
its his bad—he really wasnt to familiar with anything not soccer related.
he looked around, then finally decided to give the piece of paper back to the person he got it from—whoever that was.
you look at barou confused, so the paper was for you? you had originally gave it too him because you weren't sure if the people mumbling in the back of the classroom were really talking about you or not.
you opened your mouth to whisper-yell at him, but he wasn't paying attention to you anymore, his eyes trained on the teacher once again.
you uncrumpled the paper, trying to be as quiet as possible in the dead silence, but with no luck.
"yn?!"
shit
"yes miss?", you hid the paper under the desk, trying not to make eye contact with the 28 other students that had eyes on you.
"care to share with the class whats so important that you need to be passing notes in my class?"
fuck
reason #1 why you really hated this class, your math teacher was a fucking bitch.
'mean girl giggles' echoed throughout the room, barous eyes paying special attention to what you were about to do.
you dreaded the feeling of being forced to stand up in front of the entire class and read aloud whatever was written on the small note.
"get to it missy"
oh fuck off
you looked around the classroom trying to assess anyone who may have been distressed or embarrassed but with no luck, everyone seemed to be waiting on you.
weird...
"im serious yn. if you dont start reading in the next 10 seconds im going to—"
"no, no thats okay—i-im reading"
for whoever wrote me this, i am so sorry.
you cleared you throat in preparation for the humiliation you were about to face, curses be upon you miss peterson.
"hi, i think your really cute, we should go out sometime together, from..."
your heart stopped.
oh no this cant be right
"thats it."
"thats it?" the teacher probed, slowly making her way towards you.
"that it. i-it just says from your secret admirer after that nothing else".
your math teacher narrowed her eyes, looking closely at your expression—she didn't buy it.
dont breakeyecontactdont break eye contactdont breakeyecontactdontbreakeyecontactdontbreakeyecontact—
"really..."
"really!" you broke eye contact.
she pointed her nose upwards, probably as high as possible and began walking towards your desk.
"alright then i wanna see it, i need to have it confiscated"
"what?!, why?" oops you said that kinda loud. the class whom had previously lost interest when you finished reading turned back towards you and miss peterson now intrigued.
"well why not?! it was a distraction in class and now it needs to be taken away to make sure it wont be a distraction again...!"
but that doesn't make sense, if you care so much about us passing notes you should take our notebooks not the gosh dang note !
"but that doesn't make sense—" but you didn't get a chance to finish as the teacher viciously snatched the paper from you and spun around back towards her desk.
you sat down and burried your hands in your face, you couldn't watch this.
"oh this looks fun...says it's from barou shouei, not what i was expecting...not what i was expecting at all..."
fucking kill yourself, PLEASE
the class, which had previously been dormant erupted in a series of raging giggles and screams—shocked at the reveal of who the note was from.
a soccer player.
it was no secret in BLLK High that nobody—under any circumstance—was to mess with a soccer player. they had a bit of a reputation going on. even the nice ones.
" 'cuse me?" a commanding and masculine voice emerged from your left side and you turned as quickly as possible to the over 6 foot ( 182 cm ) tall man trying to explain yourself.
fuck, one day you were seriously gonna kill your math teacher.
"no, no no i promise it's not like that—i seriously don't know who made this i promise it wasn't from me and i know it wasn't from you—"
"you're yn ?" he cut you off smoothly, leaning back in his seat ever so slightly.
"huh?"
his knees were facing yours now. "you're yn right? been wondering who that was for the longest, guess i know now, cool."
"huh?"
okay now you were confused—about multiple things actually. #1, barou shouei, the man you'd been sitting next to for almost a full year now had yet to learn your name untill just now which is—gosh, just outrageous even for a soccer player
and #2 he wasn't toltally angry and going to kill you like everyone said he would have, should you make a fool of him?
no seriously someone explain what was happening.
you didnt get a chance to ponder on your thoughts much longer however, the bell rang loudly in your ear and soon everyone including yourself was making way for the door out the classroom.
what the fuck just happened, what the actual fuck just happened.
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"heyy ! yn over here !" you didnt realize it but you apparently had auto-piloted your way all the way through lunch and was now being called over by people you've never talked to a day in your life—and you knew exactly what it would be about.
could this get any worse
you were about to find out. "yes...?" you asked, tray still in hand while you stood awakwardly by the trash can near the lunch table who called you over.
"soo—wait first sit down, we're friends we're friends, sit down first" one of the girls said, patting a seat next to herself eagerly.
you looked at the eyes on you and quickly made a decision to move.
there definitely here to ask me about him. it can't be that bad right? i think her name is ashley? i don't know maybe this'll be fun, maybe they'll be nice.
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"so have you guys had sex?"
"what?! no—"
"have you guys even ever kissed yet?"
"no—"
"we used to talk you know", this one was from ashley, a pretty blonde haired girl who's blue eyes sparkled like marbles.
"really?"
she was attractive that for sure but and you could definitely see why some people would wanna date her but barou? not so much.
"really"
like in what world would some super macho super mysterious soccer guy get the hots for some popular pretty blonde girl? not to mention an obnoxious pretty blonde girl.
gosh i sound like a pick me right now, who knows maybe they really did talk
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"didn't even know her name" barou said, cracking his neck from side to side.
"seriously man?" asked isagi, popping a fry in his mouth.
"dead serious"
this was the soccer table, a table where only the best of best players would sit for lunch, not that it was official or anything—but new students were warned not to go near The Table anyway.
"so you did ask yn to prom?"
"no bachira, i didn't ask her how many times to i have to say that, i barely know her anyways"
"untill today" kunigami confirmed.
"until today" barou repeated.
"would you though?" chigiri asked, he glanced over at your table—you were pretty that much was obvious but it was barou we're talking about, who knows what he thought of you.
"nah, couldn't."
"why not? shes not ugly" nagi questioned albeit a bit insensitively.
"shes not but..." he trailed off, stringing his eyes from nagi to you, she looks kinda...
"but what"
"i don't want her thinking we're dating after prom or somethin', gotta focus on the game."
"what if i did then, think she'd say yes?" it was reo speaking now who was now also looking at your table.
"nah, your uncanny resemblance to a donkey might turn her off"
The Table laughed as reo scowled at the other players, he didnt find it very funny.
"shut the fuck up shouei, i didn't hear her accepting your undying love now did i?"
"thats because i never really asked her dipshit"
"your point! still better than knowing your rejected as a default"
"is it though?" barou was almost smiling at the purple headed boy.
"oh really? watch me"
the table made boyish "ooo"-ing sounds and reo stood up confidently.
shouts erupted from the table, causing the whole cafeteria to turn towards the players, they payed them no mind however, only staring intently at where reo was walking.
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"look, look, look! one if them is coming over here right now!"
"really?!"
you whipped your head around towards where the whole cafeteria's attention had been directed.
nononon, this cannot be happening. you seriously did not need another soccer players thinking you were some freak weirdo because someone else wanted to be messy!
"thats reo, he's super fucking rich, i heard he has a whole two backyards !"
"and an a theater room!"
great, and it was a rich snob kid too.
"does yn sit here?"
your table said nothing, even the loud ashley kept quiet while he was talking. everyones heads turned to you, waiting expectantly for you to say something.
"yeah thats me..." you said meekley.
reo smiled and curled his finger towards himself a few times, asking you to come to him.
this is so awakward
you stood up silently and walked over to where reo was. he didn't stop directing him towards you until you were standing right up against him, close enough to where he could grab your jaw and yank your ear towards his mouth.
"you're hot, go out with me"
your eyes bludged, and your heart accelerated way more than it should have. that was NOT what you were expecting.
reo let go of your face, his hands were in his pockets as he waited for your answer, he looked confident tou would say yes. and most people would, but this was a soccer player we were talking about—and this one specifically was known for being super rich, super smart and a super hoe. three things you couldn't be bothered to even try giving a chance with.
you glanced behind him trying to peer at the damage that had been done.
holy shit the whole fuking cafeteria is looking
"so?"
you were snapped back into reality as reo looked at you, still waiting for an answer. it was pretty obvious what you were going to say.
"no. im sorry but no, i hardly know you and you're really not my type, sorry."
your table made all types of noises as they watched the now humiliated boy bite a scowl and walk back too his table.
you quickly sat back down and watched as The Table made fun of reo's rejection. all the players were laughing but you were only looking at one.
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"said i wasn't her type". The Table erupted in laughter, all the players except reo cackling like animals.
"fucking told you so, at least get to know the girl before you start trying to hit on her" isagi joked, slapping reo on the back repeatedly.
"no for real, dont know what made you think she would fall for you in a day, not all girls are so easy you know" kunigami shook his head.
"what did you say too her anyways?" nagi asked now curious as to what got him such a harsh rejection anyways.
"didn't say nothing, js asked her if she wanted to go out, said no, that's it." reo reiterated bitterly.
"knowing him it was probably something like 'youre hot, lets go out'" barou said offhandedly, distracted by the feeling of eyes on him.
"you could hear?" reo asked, now confused.
The Table went silent for a moment and isagi burst out laughing when he realized what reo had just said.
"so you did really say that?!"
the emmbarassment for reo only cotinued further but barou wasn't paying attention to that. the eyes from before were still on him.
it was you.
cute...
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BAROU isnt really much of a romantic either, he hasn't got the headspace for it like he does for soccer, so of course—he's not seeking the love. the love is seeking him.
1 week later
you sat quietly in the school library studying like a madman for finals, it was just near the end of the school year and you were determined to get good marks on all of the subjects.
the library was the most perfect and quiet place to relax and work at the same time—without any distractions or problems to bother you from your job.
"excuse me?"
you glanced up to where the voice was coming from and your heart felt like it was going to explode.
it was none other than barou shouei in the flesh.
a whole week, a whole week you had managed to somewhat avoid his presence and pretty much ignore him during math ( your teacher denied you request to switch spots ) it was going fine untill—well, now.
"can i borrow your computer charger? mine just died and a left mine at home"
that was it?
you didn't really know what to expect from the man though. he was known to be pretty brutal on tbe field maybe you were assuming he'd be the same in real life.
although i guess i shouldn't think that considering how chill he was over the fake confession and all of that...
"oh yeah sure, I uh can let your borrow it no problem"
"thanks"
barou took your charger without another word and walked back over too his seat.
the racing in your heart was begining to subside, that wasn't so bad...
you shifted to get comfortable in your seat and began studying once again, right now where was i...
"excuse me?"
and just as you were getting comfortable. barou shoei again.
"yes?"
"sorry im back so soon but, could i sit here for a little bit. the outlet by my table isnt working for some reason" he said it in a polite tone but seemed eager for an answer, he was probably in a rush to get as much study time in before practice like most athletes were.
he really isnt as scary as i thought he'd be...
"yeah of course that's fine, it's better this way anyway, wont forget you had it in the first place ya know" you smiled moving your belongings over to make room for his.
"thanks"
barou set his things down and soon enough a static silence ensued over the both of you, not that you minded though. you still needed to get work done and it was better he wasn't attempting to make conversation with you. it is a bit awkward though...
"you color coded your pens"
the voice that emmited from the other side of the table almost made you forget who was there.
"i did, why?"
"nice, i did too"
barou didnt wait for an answer, but instead pulled out a all black pencil pouch to reveal all seven colors of the rainbow line up in order.
jeez, i just think it looks cool, his has all the pen hooks facing up too, ocd much?
that wasn't the main point though, what was more important was his sticker—on thst rested sturdy on his bag. "you watch graves anatomy too?"
he looked surprised when you mentioned the show, and nodded his head appropriately. "yeah, and im all caught up too, all 22 seasons and counting."
"holy hell, im only on season 12 how to even time for that—aren't you always having games and stuff, scince your on varsity and all..."
barou quirked an eyebrow, "mm you know your stuff—i make it work"
now it was your turn to make a face "you make it work...really, its that easy?"
no. the absurbant amount of school work i have is fucking killing me right now plus i've got sisters too take care of so no, it's definitely not easy
thats not what he said though.
"yup, real easy." he nodded his head and although you didn't buy it, it was hardly your place to nag. he didn't seem like someone you should nag.
"uh huh.." you shook your head up and down slow and repeatedly, "for sure, for sure"
"what you don't believe me?" barou moved his chair closer to yours, so close in fact you think your knees were touching, his arms bulged as he rested his hands on his head ; it was hot nice seeing him in a position that wasn't so straight .
"no i do, you seem really responsible im sure you're great at 'making it work' " you put a thumbs up.
gosh, could you be anymore awakward...
"oh im responsible ? you would know that im responsible?" barou questioned, leaning even closer on his arms towards you.
is he...flirting with me?
you laughed and covered your mouth with your hand leaning slightly away as he got closer.
"i mean yeah" you paused to swipe away the nonexistent dust from your eyes, you just couldn't hold the eye contact.
come on, dont get shy now yn.
"people talk, i guess."
"do they?"
"they do" you nodded your head firmly up and down, since it was the only thing you were sure you could do at the moment.
"mh"
mmh?!? the fuck does that mean ??
"so yn i wanna ask you a question" barou leaned back as he said this, finally returning to his normal position.
holy shit my heart was beating so fast, somebody get me on a stretcher and to the hospital NEOW, i am about to blow!
"yeah?"
barou stayed silent for a few moments, thinking deeply about what he was going to say.
"hypothetically..." he paused, staring directly at you.
"hypothetically..." you confirmed.
"hypothetically if someone, other than reo from the soccer team—just as an example lets say...yoichi ! remember hypothetically speaking—asked you out on a date what would your answer be?"
huh?
"what kind of question is that?"
"a hypothetical one" he said matter of factly.
"a hypothetical one, right, well if—hypothetically of course—i was asked out by isagi, om a date that is...i don't know...yeah? I guess i'd day yes?"
"really, you would?" he looked surprised and you suddenly felt alarmed, was that a bad thing or something??
"yeah? i mean no, not really—maybe not if he asked the way your friend did..."
"mhm"
??? again, what does that mean?
A moment of silence passed between the two of you and you tried and failed at going back to the work you were supposed to be doing in the first place.
"what about chigiri?" he said suddenly.
"chigiri? what do you me—"
"chigiri. pretty, has red hair, plays on varsity and is super fast? chigiri. would you say yes too him?"
"i mean, maybe, yeah he's definitely not ugly and i guess if i knew him well enough I would probably say yes—why are you asking me this?"
barou said nothing and suddenly, the strangest thing began to happen—he looked at you smiling—a large, uncanny smile resembling a creepypasta monster formed from on his face, your heart began to beat but for the wrong reasons.
"wake up yn" it was definitely barou's voice but it sounded far.
"huh?" you couldn't move, and you now realize you probably couldn't move for a while.
what...is happening...
"wake. up."
your head shot up from your arms, ans you looked around disorientedly.
oh...
up untill about the last 30 seconds you were a bit disappointed it had to end. your dream that is.
"yn", a voice—much deeper than you recall im your fantasies spoke out to you as you felt a tap on your shoulder.
it was barou. the real barou.
"i baroued your charged?" he said holding it out towards you. (an's. IM HALARIOUS LAMOSJKWIS)
"oh. right sorry, thanks." you took the cord from him. but he didn't leave, still looming over you in his tall stature he spoke again.
"uh, you got a little.." he pointed to the corner of his lip, scratching at it in expectation for you to do the same.
you did, softly at first, not really sure what is it he was implying but quickly realized what he meant after you felt a crusty dry substance still left from your unconscious.
oh..
oh !
"ive got drool on my face haven't i" he nodded his head, and you swore you saw grin appear on his face—a real one but he turned and walked away before you could make confirm.
"thanks for the charger yn, see ya later"
his back was facing you now, slowly getting smaller and smaller at he walked away from you.
seriously ! could i be anyless embarrassing for even a second!
im afraid not yn.
because according to barou, he thinks your little moments of embarrassment and humiliation were pretty damn cute.
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BAROU is never scared. he hardly ever get worried, he's king and one of the best players in his school, he's top of his class always and struggles—never. so why? why was it now, over some so trivial that he was all thoes things he never gets all at once?
1 week later, in the classroom.
barou felt weird.
the truth is, he didnt need a partner for the social studies project. his teacher was allowing groups of two or singles all the same. his reasoning behind why he wanted a partner is what was scaring him.
after almost an entire year, barou realized that you not only were in his math class, but his social studies as well. and his history, and biology—even his orchestra ( he plays cello in case you were wondering ).
he realized that you were everywhere.
barou, for the first time was recognizing someome else, not on the team, not an adult, but a girl, he was acknowledging a girl, as more than nothing.
it was weird.
"yn."
you peered up at him, wide-eyed and adorable. "work with me on the project"
your eyes, (e/c) and beautiful, got impossibly larger.
"yeah—uh—sure we can"
he gave a thumbs up, and went back to his seat.
what am i doing?
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"i dont know, maybe we can exchange numbers instead?"
"yeah thats better, since im hardly on social media anyways"
even though you've got so many followers..
"alright cool"
you and barou were in the library, again. instead of dreaming about his muscles however, you were watching them in real time move for your phone and yours the same.
there wasnt mych said after that, only short words to communicate what part of the project you both were supposed to work on, untill...
"yn?"
"yes" and once again, you were looking at him, wife eyed and adorable.
"i've got a question to ask you"
no way, did i fall asleep again?
you sucked in a breath, and pinched your cheeks, not paying any attention to the words that might come out of his mouth.
"ow!" nope, you were definitely awake.
barou raised an eyebrow and couldn't hold himself in. he burst out laughing and you we're glad the library waw empty, because in all his seriousness—barou's laugh was loud. like the sort of thing you'd been holding in for a while.
"what yn, afraid you're gonna fall asleep again?"
your cheeks heated up an intense amount.
"no..."
"you're funny you know, really funny"
"huh?!" you squeaked, shifting all over in your chair. "what does that mean"
barou leaned in close to your face, so close that your noses were touching.
"it means..." he tilted hid head sidewards, waiting for your permission.
"i think you're the stupidest most adorable person to exist..." you didn't move away.
and like a shock, barous lips were on yours so softly it made it feel very much like a dream, but it wasn't.
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an's. i know this is not himmm, he wouldn't even look at you after a supposed fake letter i knooow, i couldn't think of a better way to force it ( i was lazy ) and he's cute let me live.
an's. i rushed the end i knoww, leave me alone. i like writing for personal enjoyment shhhhhh.
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thedreadvampy · 6 months
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wait no sorry one last quick immature bitch moment
the more I find out about how this person has behaved in both this relationship and a bunch of other relationships, the funnier it is how much they like to set themselves up as a like. authority on ethical nonmonogamy and consent and conflict management.
when like. they constantly sexually assault people to prove a point, pressure their partners into shit, got into enm by cheating on 3 people concurrently, and literally every time a problem in their orbit is brought up it gets explained away without anything actually changing, or they cry about how hard it is until everyone says OH NO IT'S FINE DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT
you know. very "call yourself a Community Organizer even though you're not on speaking terms with your roommates" energies.
#red said#I'm mad tbh i know in being bitchy but this blog is my safe space to be bitch on#and this shit has been building up for years. not even just in my relationship with their partner. since the first time i meet them#in like 2018#and having this chat with my pal last night now I'm no longer second guessing myself bc of my relationship has uhhh Crystalised Some Things#especially getting some new context on where a lot of the tensions and sensitivities I've been aware of for ages are from#also tbh when we broke up my ex led off with 'i know you think this is about [partner] but it's not' and i was like. it is though.#it's not the only thing but it's been a common thread through every piece of tension in that relationship#not saying if the partner wasn't there we'd have been together forever. i don't think that's true and I'm glad things went the way they did.#cause w were good for each other and breaking up was also good for us#but their partner has really caused me so so so so so much turmoil for years and i haven't felt able to acknowledge that cause it makes me#feel like an asshole. but like. OK SO I'M AN ASSHOLE. I'M FUCKING MAD AT THEM.#they are manipulative and controlling and they treat their partner like shit and they have perpetually made my life worse#i like a lot of things about them and i do feel for them. we share a lot of similar issues and i do understand how they feel a lot.#but fuck me they treat everyone around them so badly and a good chunk of the reason i ended things with their partner#is that i was so fucking sick of being told i was wrong and just didn't understand how hard they had it whenever i brought up#one of the many many many shitty things they did to me or to our partner or to our friends.#multiple times i left a situation in a fully fucked up mess and my partner came to apologise for how their partner has behaved#and within minutes it would turn into them explaining to me how it wasn't really their fault and i shouldn't be so hard on them#and like fuck that. had enough of that in my life with my previous ex.#anyway. yeah. i am probably being more didactic and aggro here than i genuinely feel. but there's some room for that anger i think#and i did get some room for it to breathe last night and that's good and helpful.
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say-al0e · 8 months
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Dealing with the remnants of someone else’s life is fucking impossible.
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envy-of-the-apple · 2 months
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The Sun Eats the Moon
Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader
Word count: 9.1k
Part two: Earth Kills the Moon
Synopsis: Your boss takes on Gojo Satoru as his newest client. Much to your relief, he doesn't seem to recognize you.
(Warnings: noncon, dubcon, rough sex, oral sex, bullying, harassment, one mention of choking, penetrative sex, afab!reader, coercion, forced relationships, implied baby trapping attempt, hint of pregnancy kink)
You wanted to quit the second you read the name. 
You should have. It would have been so easy to hand in your two weeks, tell your boss that you just couldn't. Or maybe you could have convinced one of the other paralegals to take your place. 
It's pathetic. Almost a decade had passed and you still felt yourself slink into the girl you once were, rolling under his thumb, utterly helpless. You should be better than that. You worked so hard to reach where you are now. 
You were different now, you told yourself over and over again. You were older, smarter. Besides, it'd been a decade, would he even remember you?
It's Higuruma who notices your restless fingers. You shouldn't have underestimated him, despite how exhausted he looks, nothing goes past your boss. He asks about it when you two are seated in a beige room, waiting for the client. 
"Is everything alright?" 
You're still staring out the window. How high were you? 16 stories, maybe even higher. Resentment, you can feel it rise up your throat, build throughout your body. Of course, he has fancy cars, pretty buildings, and limitless money. Men like him will never know what it's like to have nothing. All men were born equal. What a fucking joke. 
Higuruma shifts, and you jolt out of your thoughts. "Yes," you console, "apologies, I'm just tired." 
The lawyer hums, and you're not sure if he believes you or not. Before he can say anything, the frosted doors open. The rest of the legal team comes in, sitting at the long table you and Higuruma inhabited. 
He comes in last. He'd always had a liking for theatrics. 
Not much had changed within a decade. He was taller, bigger. He'd switched out of his high school uniform, opting for something more business-friendly. He still made heads turn. Became the center of attention. 
It's his smile that throws you. Sincere, real. Lingering on his face like extravagant jewelry. Hard not to notice. 
You react better than you anticipated. You don't shake or tremble or cry when he passes you. You just squeeze your fists, bunching your skirt in your palm. It helps. 
He sits down, right at the end, so everyone can see him. One foot elegantly crossed over the other. When he tilts his head, his soft white hair threatens to shift over brilliant blue eyes. 
"Well, I'm sure you don't need me to explain why we're all here." A few chuckles resonate from the small group. "Let's just do our best and hope nothing gets too out of hand."
His eyes slide over to meet yours, and you steel yourself for his eyes to widen. For something wicked and cruel and nasty to sink into his face. 
Nothing. 
Gojo Satoru maintains that same smile. The blaring sun. Painfully innocent. His gaze lasts barely a second before moving to the next face, and the next, and the next. 
"I look forward to working with all of you."                                     
𖤓
If you could describe Gojo Satoru in one word, it would be: celestial. 
He's like a shining star. Brighter than the sun. Everywhere he went, he was bound to attract attention. Much like how the Earth is drawn towards the sun, people are drawn towards Gojo Satoru. It's the natural order. 
But, if an insignificant planet resists the Sun's gravitational force, it'll get crushed. You learned this the hard way. 
Gojo had always been in your class for years. The third year was no different. Despite the commonality, you two never talked to each other. You had no reason to. Until the vending machine gave you two cartons, and you suddenly remembered from an overheard conversation that Gojo liked chocolate milk too. 
"Want it?" You hold it out to him during lunch break. He was in the middle of a boisterous conversation with his friend. They did intimidate you, but you had no reason to be scared. It's not like they were bullies.
Gojo's sunglasses dip down. He eyes what you're holding in your hand, before his gaze drifts back up to you. 
"The machine gave me extra," you supply, "do you want it?" 
"Oh, sure," he says after a moment. Your hands brush. "Thanks." 
You nod, and then you walk back to the cafeteria. It was meaningless. A favor between acquaintances. He was helping you more than you helped him. You didn't want to carry chocolate milk around in your backpack. You forgot about the interaction within a few hours. 
𖤓
The meeting ends hours later. When you stumble home, it's barely evening but you can still feel the stress creeping through your legs and arms. 
You go straight to your laptop. Fumbling through the keyboard, desperate, searching. 
He's famous. Of course, he is. In his mid-twenties, but already a multi-millionaire. The head of an extremely elite family. Your eyes scan picture after picture after picture. Photos of him drinking with models in skimpy bikinis. Fancy cars. Huge houses. Private jets. Gojo Satoru: the man behind Gojo Co., Gojo Satoru and supermodel Menza hinted at relationship, Gojo Satoru, Gojo Satoru, Gojo Satoru, Gojo Satoru. 
You pull away when it starts to burn, when the rage and sorrow become too much. He has everything. Everything he could want. He made you go through hell for months, and yet he never got punished for it. The universe rewards him with lavishness you'd never be able to touch. 
It's not fair. It's not fair. It's not fucking fair. 
Through your blinds, the sun happily shines. 
𖤓
You don't notice it until it becomes painfully unbearing.
Gojo calls you by your name now (until that day you bet he didn't even know you existed). He's like a ghost, constantly appearing out of nowhere to sling an arm around your shoulder, eager to chase off any of your friends to talk to you about things that don't matter.
He constantly offers to walk you home (and then Gojo ignores your refusals and does it anyway). It stays like that for a few days, never bordering beyond friendliness. You think he's harmless. Maybe he just hasn't had someone genuinely do a nice favor for him. Besides, you're flattered by the attention. Even you can be swayed by the pull of Gojo Satoru. It feels nice to be wanted. 
You reason it'll just be for another week. A week later, you two will be nothing but acquaintances, sometimes exchanging quick smiles during class. 
It doesn't truly dawn on you as to what he's doing until he comes out and says it. 
"What?" Because you must have misheard him. 
"We should," he says, not even bothering to repeat himself, "I mean, we're practically dating already. Let's just make it official." 
You stare at him. As always, he's utterly beautiful. The light of the setting sun makes his skin glow gold. Whenever he's walking you home is one of the rare times he removes those sunglasses. His eyes are like jewels, pretty things that you wish were yours. 
You laugh. It's high and panicky because you still think he's joking. He doesn't laugh with you. You stop. 
"Oh-oh, I'm sorry Gojo-I wasn't-I didn't think. I'm just not...interested in dating anyone right now. It's not you! I think-I think you're great, but it's just the wrong time, and school is getting so much busier and-" you keep rambling, coming up with excuse after excuse because you're convinced Gojo would cut you off with an awkward laugh, tell you it's fine. 
He doesn't do either, letting your flounderings get more and more pathetic. His smile had dropped. You can't read his expression anymore. 
Eventually, you grow quiet, standing with him in that silence. When that gets too much, you timidly tell him to have a goodnight and walk home. He doesn't follow, staying rooted to the sidewalk where you left him. You're not running away, you tell yourself over and over again. And yet, you can't help but feel relief as soon as you can't feel his eyes. 
Don't resist the Sun. It'll crush you. 
𖤓
It was something minuscule. 
Barely considered legal work. The case would most likely be finished in a couple of weeks. The defendant had nothing on Gojo Satoru, at least from what you and the other paralegals could see. You highly doubted it would even go to court. Higuruma always had a knack for bringing anyone to the table. Gojo would be let off from whatever he did without a hitch. No punishment. Just like always. 
"Word of advice, don't think about what happens in the private sector," Higuruma says, over whiskey. 
The firm was celebrating another victory at a fancy bar. You were still stewing over the face of that young woman's face when the judge ruled in your client's favor. She looked heartbroken. You can still remember the sleazy smile your client had given her. 
"It's a job," he says, "do it. Boost your resume, and get out." 
He takes another dainty sip of his glass. Tonight, the circles underneath his eyes seem even darker. "You're a young kid. Do something else with your life." 
When he offers to buy you a round, you accept. You think about that night sometimes, and you wonder if Higuruma wished someone else would have given him that advice when he was younger. 
Do the job, and get out. Easier said than done. Especially when the job involved Gojo Satoru. 
Associating with him was dangerous, you knew that firsthand, especially when he was interested in something you had. You'd left, but that wouldn't save you. The space of decades would not help. 
Burn Gojo once, he won't forgive you. Burn Gojo twice? You don't think there's anyone alive who did that. 
Over the coming days, you expect something from him. It's a nagging feeling in your stomach. The delayed response to a gunshot. Dread. You expect him to snap. Push. Break. 
He never does. Gojo remains pliant, the same to you as he remains to your boss. There's no additional touching, no disgusting nicknames, no scathing looks. Nothing. 
You don't get the confirmation until a week later, when Gojo stops you near the elevator. 
"Higuruma's...assistant, right? Sorry, never got your name," he says, and you steel yourself because the two of you are alone and here it comes but if you yell loudly enough maybe-
"He asked for some paperwork, and I finally found it for him." Gojo hands you a stack of sheets with a cheery smile. "You won't mind giving that to him, will ya? Thanks!" 
Just as quickly as he arrives, he leaves, shoes clicking down the hall as he goes. You can only stare at his rescinding back, the palpable feeling of relief nearly making your knees buckle. 
The best news you could have possibly received. Gojo Satoru had completely forgotten about you. 
When you got home later that evening, the rain was heavy, and the sun was nowhere to be seen. 
𖤓
You don't have proof it was him. 
It's unjust to accuse people of things they didn't do. You lack any evidence. It could have easily started by itself. You'd always been meek and timid. People were bound to take advantage of that. 
But the timing was just too perfect for it to not be caused by him. 
In the weeks following the incident with Gojo, school went from tolerant to hell. It started small, at first. Tiny. Unoticable. Insignificant. Some people (Gojo's lackeys, you'd later realize), would nudge you as they passed you by the halls. They apologized, mid-laugh, and in the beginning, you truly thought they were sincere. Then, the nudges turned into pushes, then shoves. That's when you knew you had a target on your back. 
At first, you found it kind of hard to believe. Bullying? It sounded so childish. Something reserved for petty middle schoolers. You were in your final year of high school. You were already an adult. You laughed it off, for a bit. Mostly because it was so ridiculous. Only when it starts becoming more severe, more apparent that you were his target, do you start taking things more seriously.
There was no proof, but everyone knew it was Gojo. And being on Gojo's bad side wasn't something people were willing to risk. One by one, your friends started to disappear, reducing their involvement by sending strained smiles during passing period. The more stubborn ones who were more adamant about staying by your side were chased away too. They'd skip school for a few days, before coming back and completely ignoring you.
Teachers and staff were no help either. Why would they? Gojo's family held them in the palm of their hand. The most your homeroom teacher would do was avert his eyes whenever something was thrown at you for the third time in class, and quietly remind students to settle down. 
You fell on the ground with an embarrassing thump. A chorus of laughter, and a mocking 'sorry' is all you hear from the crowd. Other students step over your scattered papers, giving you looks of sympathy but never bothering to help. You'd call them cowards, but you know you'd do the same.
Instead, you focus on collecting your papers. You avoid the lump in your throat. The tears that threaten to break over your waterline. It's humiliating, being stuck on the floor like this. It's only Wednesday, but you already feel like breaking.
Hands, scarred, move past you, collecting the rest of the sheets. His face is carefully blank as Geto Suguru neatly tucks his share all in one piece before handing it to you. You give your thanks. He ignores it. 
“Are you hurt?” Geto asks, his voice barely loud enough to hear.
You think you scrapped your knee during the fall, but other than your pride, you're fine. You shake your head. Geto sighs. It's not out of relief.
“That's good,” he says anyway.
You found it ironic that Gojo's best friend is the only one who bothers to help you these days. It makes sense, in a way. It's not like he'll send his goons to Geto, instead. In this solar system, Geto Suguru is the only person unaffected by Gojo's solar flares. 
You work in relative silence, collecting the mess that fell out of your bag. Geto hands you the last of the supplies, idly watching as you tuck them away.
“Take my advice,” he says just before he leaves, “give in.”
He stands up. Geto Suguru has always been taller than you, but now the difference feels even worse. When he looks down at you, a flicker of pity lingers in his eyes. It's gone before it can mean anything. 
“It'll only get worse from here if you don't.”
Worse, he had said. God, what could be worse? You were already at rock bottom. All you have left is your dignity. Something you intend on gritting your teeth to keep.
You quickly learned something about Geto Suguru: he knew his best friend. 
Friday. The end of the worst week of your life has finally arrived. The week after is break, and then maybe Gojo will move onto some other hyperfixation, and finally leave you alone.
Classes were out. You were done, free to run home and cry the entire week away. And then, you noticed, your locker was open.
Smashed in, was a better term. Completely, irrevocably, destroyed. It looked like someone had taken a wooden bat to repeatedly smash in the metal until it cracked open like an egg. 
You don't want to look, but you have to. The busted door is barely hanging on its hinges when you push it open. 
It's worse than anything you could think of. 
Your books, textbooks, journals, are all torn apart and written on. All the contents of your bag have been thrown around. Your assignments, your notes, your pens and pencils. But it's your laptop that makes your throat stop. Smashed, broken without any hope of being salvageable. Your everything was in there. Why why why would he do this to you? 
This wasn't bullying. 
This was abuse. 
Fuck pride. Fuck dignity.
You were so tired. 
Despite the hell his lackeys put you through. Gojo Satoru himself never bothered you. In fact, you hadn't seen him all week. He doesn't make himself impossible to find. You know where his group hangs out after school. You're barely holding yourself together when you hear his voice. His pretty laugh. You don't care about how you look, close to breaking, your voice high-pitched and shaky. 
"Why?" 
Your voice catches his attention. He falls into silence, just like the rest of the group. Gojo surveys you for a moment. There's a scoff, a hint of amusement before he waves off the rest of the group. 
"Get lost." 
They comply, dispersing in multiple directions. For the first time, in a long while, you and Gojo are left alone. You and Gojo are left, alone. 
"Well?" he tilts his head, completely bored. 
"What do I have to do?" You ask desperately, "What-what do I have to do to make this all stop? Please I'll-I'll do anything, just-just make it-" 
It's all too much. You can't hold your sobs in, bursting into tears as you fumble through your words. He tuts in mock pity. You flinch when you feel his hand against your cheek, but he doesn't let you shy away. 
"Anything?" He asks when your sobs simmer into hushed whimpers, "Really? Anything?" 
You blink, looking up at him with rough teary eyes. He's grinning, wide and manic. Your heart drops when he lowers himself to whisper in your ear. 
"Anything, right?" 
You nod once. He sighs in pure delight. His breath tickles your cheek. 
"Get on your knees." 
You jerk back, but Gojo doesn't let you go far, a hand on your shoulder, keeping you rooted on the spot. At your look of pure panic, he only laughs a little. 
"I-I-Gojo you-" 
"And call me Satoru now. Since we're gonna get to know each other a lot better," he interrupts with a chiding grin, ignoring your wide eyes. "What? I thought you said anything, right?" 
He's asking, but it's clear you don't get a choice anymore. His grip on your shoulder is tight, close to crushing skin and bone. You're trapped. No, you were trapped the moment you talked to Gojo Satoru. 
To think this all started because of two cartons of chocolate milk. 
You relent when his grip gets too painful, sinking down to your knees. The grass is cool, and you know it will leave damp spots on your skirt, letting everyone know what you did for him. 
"Good girl," he coos, and you shudder at his hand petting your hair. Like you're some precious pet. To him, maybe you are. How could anyone think of treating a human like this? You should be grateful he does it for you, instead of demanding you to pull him out. Still, the jiggle of his belt makes you wince. You turn away, not being able to bring yourself to look. Only when the tip of his cock reaches your peripheral, do you look back. It's big. You should have expected it, considering his height. It's already leaking, a bead of precum that makes you shudder. He moves forward and you instinctively grip his thigh. 
"Gojo I-" 
"Nuh-uh. Satoru," he ununciates, "Satoru. You gotta' start listening to me baby, or else we're gonna have problems." 
You look down at the grass. Green, soft. 
"Satoru." 
His eyes flash in satisfaction. 
"Open up, pretty girl." 
The last of your fight disappears, sinks into the soft grass. You swallow, once, before you take him. It's a slow, torturous process. He's too big, your jaw is already starting to ache. Satoru barely notices your discomfort, sighing in contentment when you start to gag on his cock, reaching down to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. 
You make a muffled gurgle and he tilts his head down. His sunglasses fall forward, two pretty eyes stare at you. 
"What? Don't act like this is your first time-" he stops himself, mid-thought. 
"Wait...this can't be your first time, right?" 
If you weren't humiliated enough. You can't even lie, averting your eyes to avoid any further shame. 
"Poor baby," Satoru says, all too delighted, "lemme' walk you through it. Gotta' suck on it, just like a lollipop-that's it-use your tongue," he encourages, still gripping his cock in his hand, like he was feeding it to you. 
You can feel your mouth open wider. Tears stream down your face, not just from your pride, but also from pain. Satoru lets you take him in like this for a few more moments, just enjoying your warm mouth. 
"There we go," he breathes, "take-fuck-take all of me." 
But Satoru isn't known for his patience. You've barely taken all of him in yet before he grabs your hair to fuck your throat properly. You choke, sputtering all over his cock. He barely pays you any mind, his head thrown back as he rams himself down your mouth without a care in the world. 
"Y'know, our first time together could-could have been nicer," he says through gritted teeth, the heat was starting to get to him, "but you just had to go and mess it up, huh?" 
If you were stronger. If you were braver. You would have rejected it. Screamed. Fought. At the very least, you would have denied his delusions. But you weren't strong. You weren't brave. You were weak. Stupid. This was all your fault. Had you just given in the moment he asked, this wouldn't be happening to you. Or maybe, he'd be a bit nicer about it. 
He hisses, gripping the back of your head before something warm and disgusting fills your mouth. Above you, Satoru lets out a shameless groan, a mix of your name as well as a curse. He releases you then, finally letting you sink to the floor. You fall forward, resting on your hands and knees, panting, trying to regain your breath, some semblance of sanity. You can still taste him. It's salty, a sickly tang. You spit as much as you can on the grass. It doesn't help. 
He kneels, getting down to your level. With the way he's silently watching you, you know he's waiting for the right answer this time. 
Don't resist the Sun. It'll crush you. 
So, you drop your gaze down. You take in a deep long stilted breath. 
"Yes, Satoru," you say, voice quiet, pliant, "I'll go out with you." 
His demeanor drops in just a second. He smiles, painfully innocent, like you hadn't spent the last few moments choking on his cock. He cups your face with both hands and you wonder how he could look at you like that, gently, as though you weren't covered in tears and his cum. 
(You still feel it drip down your mouth. Tonight, when he finally lets you go home you'll cry for hours in the shower, hoping the water will wash away all the shame you feel. It won't.)
"Finally!" He exclaims, laughing, light, happy, elated, "I'm so glad you finally came around. I was starting to think I was ugly or something." 
 You stay like that for a while. Underneath him. You let his hands run up and down your body, like he's feeling the space that makes up you. Soon, you'd realize Gojo Satoru liked to touch things that were beneath him. A thought muddles it's way through your numb brain. You bring yourself to look at him. 
"Satoru?" you ask. He sighs in satisfaction, stroking your hair. 
"My laptop...it's broken." 
You didn't know what else to say. It sounded accusatory, even to your ears. Righteous. You wondered if he heard it too, if he'd do something about it. 
Satoru only scoffs.
“that old thing?” You flinch. It was a gift from your aunt, you highly doubted he cared enough about the sentimental. He hugs you closer, almost like a snake, constricting you within its scales before it devours you. 
(You think the worst part is that he didn't even deny it.)
“I'll just get you a new one, baby.”
He walks you home later that evening. When he demands a kiss, you comply, numbly pressing your aching lips to his. 
The sunset is pretty today. 
𖤓
It's not a particularly hard case, but Gojo has a knack for keeping those who work for him busy. Higuruma had asked you to stay behind, once again. The two of you were stuck alone in the office building, a room that Gojo had graciously supplied. 
You were milling through a stack of papers when someone new walked in. You didn't recognize her. She was tall, pretty, sparkling jewelry littered her neck and wrists. Your eyes drifted up and down her outfit, something that definitely wasn't business-appropriate. A part of you wants to ask where she got that lipgloss from. 
"Oh," she tilts her head, surveying the two of you with pretty eyes, "is Sato not here?" 
You inwardly cringe at the nickname, but choose not to show it. Higuruma is the one who saves you, in the end. He speaks on both of your behalf. 
"Mr. Gojo isn't here at the moment," he says, "feel free to wait." 
She does as she's told, plopping down on a seat right next to her. Higuruma goes back to ignoring her, dutiful in everything like he always is. You, on the other hand, don't like the way some of the other associates eye her legs. When you wordlessly hand her your jacket, she gratefully accepts. 
"Thanks. I love your bag, by the way," she cheerily says and a part of you feels bad for her. 
Minutes pass. She crosses her legs and then uncrosses them. When she crosses them again, you have to look up from your paperwork and ask if she's feeling alright. 
"Just nervous," she admits, "I-I haven't seen Sato since our...last meeting." 
Everyone in the vicinity knows this wasn't a casual business meeting, you don't get why she's avoiding the elephant like that. Probably to save face. It's clear from her behavior that she wasn't expecting so many visitors, so perhaps this situation is new for her. You found it strange that a booty call would be called up to an office building, especially when people were clearly watching, but you doubted Mr. Gojo cared about that. He was always shameless in that regard, uncaring about anyone's reputation, even his own. That's why he's in this legal mess in the first place. Besides, you were part of Gojo's Satoru's legal team. Part of your job is to be discreet about his extracurricular affairs. 
Gojo Satoru hadn't changed at all since high school. Why would he? His personality has gotten him this far, after all. The Sun would never change, it's a constant sphere of fire. You wouldn't want him to change. You were banking on his stagnant nature to slip by. You couldn't imagine if he did change, improve himself, and realize how horrible he'd been to you. How would you be able to keep yourself together if he pulled you aside one day and tried to apologize? You'd break. Things are better the way they are now. Let Gojo Satoru indulge himself in all this lavishness, forgetting about the people he's tortured. It's better this way. 
You glance over at the girl. She's young, maybe a couple of years younger than you. You can see the flush on her cheeks. The clear swooning. A part of you wonders what she'd think about that man if you ever told her what he did to you. What a monster he is-
"There you are!" Mr. Gojo strides in, just as silent as always, making himself known when he wants to. 
The girl jumps up, her eyes lighting up in pure excitement as she practically drags herself into Mr. Gojo's arms. He places an arm on the small of her back, scarily close to touching somewhere inappropriate as she chatters away. They disappear off to wherever rich men like him go. 
It's so quick. You must have imagined it because, for a second, you were sure he'd glanced back at you. 
𖤓
By now, everyone knows you're Satoru's. That means, like him, you're untouchable. 
You're not celestial. If Satoru was a star, then you were a stray meteor he'd found hurtling through space, and he couldn't resist forcing it to revolve around him. In exchange for suffering through his solar flares and radiation, he protects you from bigger planets that are all too eager to smash into you. The one relief is that no one seems to bother you anymore. You haven't been shoved around, pushed, or prodded. Sometimes, you receive glares from Satoru's old ex's, but it's more tolerable than burnt homework. 
Satoru has officially chased away all your friends, but he's more than happy to keep you company. You sit next to him in lunch now, quietly listening as he prattles on to the rest of his friends (you recognize some of them, the ones who messed with you, they never seem to hold your gaze for long). You used to study on campus alone, right after school let out. Now, you still do it, but with Satoru watching. It's hard to concentrate with his wandering fingers and wet lips. 
He takes all of your firsts. You don't give them to him, much less, he demanded it of you. The first time he fully takes you is far less romantic than you'd ever hoped. It was on his bed after he'd practically dragged you over to his house that night. You went home the next day covered in marks that took nearly a week to heal. A little while after that, Geto came to talk to you again. For the second time ever. 
"Here." He offers you a packet. Pills. You're confused for a moment until you realize Satoru didn't wear a condom. 
"Thank-" 
"Don't," he cuts you off, "Don't thank me." 
He says it with so much hate that you think it's directed at you. It isn't until years later that you realize the disgust was towards himself. 
There are theories that the Moon once had color. 
It wasn't just white. It was green and blue, and red. 70 million years ago, it could have been much like the Earth. It didn't have a strong atmosphere, however. The gaseous layer was slowly stripped away. The sun didn't help. With no atmosphere, the unfiltered solar radiation slowly began to bleach the once colorful celestial body a dull white. Before long, the sun had created the moon to be its image. Now, the only color the moon has to offer is the sun's reflection. 
When the moon was out, you often stared at it, reveling in its beauty. Now, trapped in between Satoru's arms, you find its skeleton a bit too haunting to look at. 
Three more weeks. Just three more weeks. 
Graduation is coming up soon. You already had your college picked out, far far away from this backward town. From his conversations, Satoru was planning on going to some high-end college in Tokyo. With the way he kept looking back at you, you had a feeling he was planning on dragging you there too. 
You were intelligent enough to keep your mouth shut about your plans. Satoru never asked, so you guessed he assumed you would let him bully you into whatever he wanted. He was right, so far. It's not like you'd ever argued with him. 
Your parents were the only people who knew about your plan. They were excited, albeit for the wrong reasons. 
"I'm so glad to see you're this interested in higher education," your mother beamed, "why the sudden change?" 
You look at your mother's face. People have told you that you share the same smile. You wonder if she'd keep smiling if you ever told her about what Satoru's been doing to you, the bullying, the harassment. 
You can't. You won't, because you can't bear to see her give you the same pitiful look your classmates give-the one Geto gives. You don't want her to see you as something broken. 
"I'm just starting to think I might go into law," you finally say, "definitely need college for that."
On Thursdays, you have to sit inside the gym during Satoru's basketball practice. You wait on the bleachers, reviewing notes, and listening to the squeaking of sneakers. Satoru's good at the sport. You know last year they won a few tournaments. Whenever he scores a point, he gives a cheer, turning back to see if you saw it too. In those moments, you remember he's just a kid. He's your age. You can feel the envy. There, but too insignificant to do anything. He pleasantly lives his childhood, even after he stole yours. 
Practice ends, always a little later than it's officially supposed to. Coach gives the final whistle and then Satoru is jogging back to you. Your things are already neatly packed into your bag. His breath is barely ragged, you can smell the hint of sweat as he kisses you on the lips. You can feel eyes on you, same as always. It's getting easier to ignore the gawking. After all, you're Satoru's now. 
"Miss me?" he asks when he pulls away. He grabs your stuff before you can, hauling your backpack away. To others, it may look like he's being a sweet boyfriend. To you, it's another leash, tugging you to where he wants to go. You're not sure how Satoru sees the action. 
You clamber out of the bleachers, following him without a word. Usually, Satoru would walk you home. You'd share a kiss with him on the front porch. And for the rest of the day, he'd finally leave you alone. 
He grabs your hand, shooting you a wink when you lightly jostle into his body. Instead of heading out the door, Satoru turns his gaze towards the empty locker rooms. The light's automated. It flickers an unsettling white, casting a sick glow along the tiles. You are barely through the door before Satoru's pinning you against the lockers, kissing you as aggressively as he can. 
Your hands immediately find their way to his shoulders, squeezing. It's not enough to hurt him, but it grabs his attention anyway. He lets up a little, relaxing into your touch. 
"Sorry, baby," he says not sounding apologetic at all, "just be good f'me, okay? Need you." 
He's pent up, you realize and you look at the door. School's out. The campus is nearly empty. But people are still around. And the door he just shoved you through doesn't have a lock- 
Oh, wait. Would it even matter if someone came in and saw you? Everyone knew you were Satoru's. 
Three more weeks. Just three more weeks. 
He's trailing down, dropping to his knees. He flips up your skirt, pushing aside your panties, and attaches his hot mouth to your pussy. He's ravenous, today. Sucking on your clit like he can't bear to do anything else. You gasp, immediately assaulted by the shocks of pleasure running up and down your back.
You press against the wall, arching your back, giving him even more to suck on. He hums in approval, his voice getting lost in your wet folds. You're practically dripping now, and Satoru, with all his debauchery, gladly licks it all up as you writhe and whimper above him. Your thighs grow tighter around him, threatening to crush his skull if both his hands weren't carved into the fat of your thighs, squeezing. 
Your initial panic is washed away, crumbled by his insistent tongue and fingers. You whimper out his name again as his tongue circles your clit and two fingers continue to move in and out of your sopping pussy. You're crying now, tears of pleasure and brokenness floating down your cheeks. Despite how blurry your vision is, you can see Satoru looking up at you. 
"Getting close?" he's breathless, but there's still a hint of playfulness in his voice, "gonna sing, pretty girl?" 
He gives a particularly hard suck on your clit and you're gone. You seize, throwing your head back as your legs shake from the force of your orgasm. It's a scream, so loud and shameless. Satoru gives a groaned pant, lapping up your aftertaste, making you jolt from the overstimulation before he finally gets to his feet. You watch as he haphazardly wipes the remnants of you with his sleeve before he's kissing you again. 
"Always so sweet f'me," he purrs, biting at your lips before he fumbles with his belt. His cock is already red and strained. He pants, head shifting to fall at the crook of your neck as he lines himself up and sinks into you with one full thrust. 
You whine a mix of a sob and a hissed moan. He hushes you with a stilted breath, barely keeping himself together as he pumps himself into you. Both of you are sweating now. You can feel the beads draw down your neck. He licks at your clavicle, biting when he starts to get more aggressive. When it's too less, he hikes your thigh over his waist, keeping it there so he can go even deeper. 
"Fuck, I'm crazy for you," he slurs against your skin. You can barely pay attention to his words, barely keeping your own voice in check, "’would do anything for you, pretty girl." 
He raises his head, looking you in the eye. His sunglasses have been tossed on the floor. You can his beautiful eyes, two cosmic galaxies of blue. You could stare at them for hours, discovering each variant of cerulean, naming each one. You bet each day you look, you'll find another shade. They're so pretty.
You wonder how pretty those eyes would look floating in a jar. 
"'Toru-!" you gasp when Satoru rocks himself into again, even faster. The name you accidentally gave him when you're too fucked out to comprehend language makes him laugh in pure delight, his smile uncontrolled, delirious. 
"Right here, baby," he moans into your sweaty skin, hand reaching down to rub your clit, "your ‘Toru's right here. Just where you need him." 
His fingers move under your shirt, squeezing at your tits, exploring, roughly grabbing at your chest. The sensation makes you wince. Your walls draw even tighter, choking his cock. 
"Too-too much, 'Toru, p-please." He growls at your begging, burying his face in your neck again. He nips at your damp skin, you flinch. 
"I gotcha' baby," he breathes, "just-just lemme-" He presses on your clit. It's all you need. 
You come with a sob, your pussy squeezing, milking Satoru for all he's worth. He's not too far behind, hips stuttering before he whines in your ear. Something warm fills your cunt. 
You flounder, sagging against the wall. Satoru's the only thing that keeps you upright as you fight to catch your breath. He isn't in any better shape, panting just as hard as you are. He lifts his head, pressing his damp forehead onto yours. There's a dreamy smile on his lips. A look of absolute adoration. 
"I love you." 
You look at him. There's nowhere else to look.
"I love you," he repeats, leaning forward to kiss the corner of your lips. His lips trail down, caressing your cheek, your jaw, your neck. It would almost feel nice, but you can only stare straight ahead. You can see the dull green lockers in the distance. You can smell the mold in the damp locker room. You can feel Satoru's cum slowly seep out of you, trailing down your thigh. 
Fuck three weeks. 
You needed to get out, now. 
𖤓
The only reason you went is because you were told Gojo Satoru wouldn't be there. 
His assistant had off-handily mentioned that he had a meeting on the other side of town. Very last minute. The building as a whole would be empty, just a skeleton crew and a couple of security guards to keep the place running. It made sense, it was 8 pm- long past any proper business hours. 
Higuruma could have easily gone, but it's clear the sleepless nights have been getting to him, or the stress. His paralegal is more than qualified to act like a middleman between him and Mr.Gojo's associates. It's an easy mission. Just grab a few things, and get out. 
Gojo Satoru wasn't supposed to be there. 
And yet, there he was, leaning against the door, blocking you into the room. 
His assistant had always been a mousey thing. Tonight, however, he'd been extra ansty, looking around the room. Babbling out excuses as to what was taking him so long. Now, when he can barely even look at you, you realize he was just a distraction. 
"You're off the clock, Fimo," Gojo finally breaks the silence, "take tomorrow off too, okay?" 
His assistant quickly nods, keeping his head down to flit out the door. You can't even bring yourself to be mad at him. Gojo always had a habit of singling out the weakest, crushing them within his fist, unless they bent or broke. 
The door shuts with a click. 
"You know, I didn't even recognize you at first," he starts. He takes a small step forward. 
You take one back. He puts his hands up. 
"Okay, don't be like that," he sighs, exasperated, "It's been what, 10 years? How you've been?" 
He steps around you, barely brushing against your shoulder to get to his desk. He reaches down, grabbing a wine bottle and two glasses from a cabinet, setting both down on mahogany wood. 
"Wanna drink? Technically, it's against company policy to serve alcohol in the building but I won't tell if you don't." He grins. It looks bloody. 
He looks so casual, the man who's haunted your nightmares, leaning against a desk in a building he owns. Your heart's beating in your chest. It's so loud. You wonder if he can hear it too. 
When you don't respond, he rolls his eyes. 
"Figures." He pops the cork. "You were always such a stickler for the rules." 
"What do you want?" You ask, your tone weaker than you'd liked. 
"What? Don't you wanna catch up? I missed you." You flinch at his words, looking away. "A paralegal, huh? Gotta' say, wasn't what I expected, but it fits you." It sounds condescending, but you don't poke the bear, opting to stay silent. 
He seems to take an issue with that, regardless. 
"Are you mad? If anything, I should be the one upset at how you just ran off like that. After all that time we spent together too. I didn't even get a breakup text." 
 His last words, send a chill up your spine. A warning. Staying here any longer would be a mistake. 
You go to move. 
Satoru's faster. 
Your head slams against the wall. Hard. Enough to hurt. You struggle anyway, clawing at the hand that's gripping your throat, the body pinning you down. Above you (he's gotten so much taller now), Gojo tuts in disappointment. 
"I tried to be nice and look where that got me. You tried to run again," he muses, like he's disappointed, "I shouldn't be surprised. You've always needed something with a bit more teeth." At his threat, his hand on your throat tightens. You freeze. 
It's barely choking you, but it's enough of a warning. His other hand is playing with the end of your blouse, feeling the fabric. You can feel the tears start. They're a familiar taste. Only this time, they're twinged with bitterness. 
"Don't do this," you whisper, "Don't-don't-" 
"Yeah, I don't think you're in any position to make demands right now." He's grinning, but when you look into his eyes, you can see the anger. A fire that has burned for a decade. At that moment, you realized Gojo Satoru had changed. Now, he was better at hiding how he truly felt. 
You should have quit the moment Higurama got him as a client. 
Gojo's dragging you over to the desk, haphazardly pushing away the stuff already on it. The computer, the bottle, the wine glasses all fall to the floor with a deafening crash as he shoves you down, splaying you across the table. He follows you down, leaning to meet your lips in a frenzied kiss. It's different than all the other times he'd kissed you. He'd lost all the inexperience, more keen on making you stay put and bleed. When you try to turn your face, pushing at his chest, he only growls. A large hand grabs your chin, keeping you in place for him. 
When he pulls away, there's a hint of blood on his plush lips. It's not his. He licks it up regardless. 
You're full-on sobbing now; barely in sucking air as your body shudders and jolts. You don't expect comfort, least of all from him, but he's cooing, wiping away your tears. 
"Missed this," he purrs, ignoring the way you weakly push at him, "'guess that was my mistake. I was expecting you to be different. Nah, you'll be the same crybaby you always were. That's how you managed to slip under my radar." 
He buries his face into your hair, sighing in contentment as you shiver underneath him. His lips graze the crown of your head, a complete juxtaposition to his words. 
"Scream all you want. No one's here, baby." No one's gonna save you from me.
 Still, you try anyway. Your hands grip his broad shoulders, digging in your nails until he hisses. 
"Fuck maybe you have changed." He rasps, fiddling with his belt. "You're bitchier now." 
"Gojo-Gojo what are you-" He bites on your bare clavicle. You squeal, stilling underneath him again. 
"Satoru," he insists. You slump over the desk as he takes both your hands, wrapping his leather belt around your delicate wrists. You wince when he twists it into a knot. The leather bites into your skin. The fight dissolves just as rapidly as it arrived. He hadn't even lifted a finger against you. You were just that pathetic. 
"Satoru," you breathe, waving your flag of defeat. He hums, licking at the bitemark. You can feel the heat bloom on your skin. They'll be a mark tomorrow, and much like Satoru, it would go away so easily. 
"There's my good girl," he groans, cold hands fiddling with the buttons on your blouse, opening it up until your bra pops out, "I know I should be more mad, but I've always had a soft spot for you. Guess things will never change, hm?" 
His mouth dips down, tracing your collarbone to your breasts. He wiggles down your bra, letting your tits spill out and into his hands. He squeezes one while taking another in his mouth, swirling the bud with his tongue before devouring. His moan is barely muffled by your tits. Yours is clear, high-pitched and breathy. Satoru always had no problem being shameless. And he often dragged it out of you too. 
He's mouthing something against your skin, but you're too distracted by his other hand, slinking down your waist, pushing up your pencil skirt, letting it bunch around your hips. In the moment, you chastised yourself for wearing something so easy to get rid of, but it wasn't like you were expecting for him to be here, to bring you down just like he did when you were in high school. It's not like you were expecting to fall. 
Satoru feels around your pantyhose, running up and down your thigh, searching. He squeezes the sheer fabric, before he rips a hole into it. You gasp, jerking at the action. 
"That's-"
"I'll buy you new ones," he says, voice muffled by your tits. The conversation feels familiar. 
He bypasses your panties immediately, finding your pussy with practiced ease. You're already soaking. At this, he raises to look at you. You can't keep eye contact, timidly looking away. He laughs. It sounds sickenly affectionate. 
"You're so cute." He purrs just as he leaves another mark on your chest. Your tits bounce under his attention as he pushes two fingers into your tight sopping hole. Your back curls, arching off the desk as he starts pumping his fingers in and out of you. Disgust grows within you, not at him, but at yourself, for letting yourself get this low. This desperate. 
It doesn't stay for long. He's cruel like that, moving in a way that makes you forget your humanity. His fingers get even faster, digging into your cunt and curling somewhere deep inside, hitting a spot that makes you gasp. You're reduced to whimpering moans by the time he finally stops, fingers exiting your pussy with a wet noise. He brings them to his mouth, sucking on his fingers, eyes rolling to the back of his head at your taste. 
"Fuckin' sweet," he moans, taking his fingers out with a sickening pop before wiping the drool on your heaving tits. 
Your eyes float to the window. The moon is out, you blearily realize. It's a blood moon, a rusty red. Once every 3 months, it'll lose its heavenly glow. The innocent milky white will get shadowed by the Earth's rusty atmosphere. It'll regain its color eventually. The Sun doesn't like to be overshadowed. 
Something hard and blunt slides between your legs. You're barely given a second to comprehend it before Satoru grabs you by the hips, filling you up with one thrust. You yelp, a semblance of his name on your lips, but it's shrouded by the moan you give out. 
He stays like that for a bit. You should be grateful he is letting you adjust to him. His cock is sickenly familiar to your walls. Satoru's hair brushes your cheek as he leans up to whisper in your ear. 
"How many?" he sounds like he's gritting his teeth, barely in control, "how many guys have you let fuck you since you ran?" 
You blink, wondering if he's seriously asking, but you can hear the seriousness in his tone. Even now, he's concerned with the wrong things. He's always been petty like that. 
"You," you say because there's no point in lying, "it's only ever been you." 
You say it like it's a curse, because to you, Satoru had cursed you. He'd stolen something you'd never be able to enjoy, devouring it, keeping it for himself. A part of you will always hate yourself for letting him do that, just like a part of you will always be his. 
Satoru deflates, as if he's relieved, easing his face into the crook of your neck, placing an almost loving kiss on your shoulder. He starts slow, slowly drawing his cock out, just until his tip is barely still in, before he pushes himself back into your hole. His pace is slow, controlled. It's different than when he was younger, more eager to get himself off more than anything. Now, it's like he's enjoying the intimacy, the feeling of your walls squeezing him. The wet noises. He's barely affected. Unlike you, writhing underneath him, close to falling apart. It's his length that gets you, forcing your pussy to stretch just to fit him. His cock hits everywhere, all at once, an endless torture of pleasure. 
It takes you a while to get your brain back together, to collect the mush, and realize that Gojo isn't wearing a condom. 
"S-Sato-" You try, just when he spreads your thighs apart, pushing them close to your chest so he can get deeper and kiss you at the same time. His hand slips down to your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles and you feel yourself getting even closer. You squeeze your eyes shut at the onslaught. 
"Try again," Satoru huffs, "What's my name? I know you know it, pretty girl." 
"'Toru," you beg because it's all you have left. Your breathless gasps make you sound even more unconvincing but you still manage to stutter out, "I'm-I'm not on anything, so-so please-" 
"That's okay," he mutters, though it's clear he's half-listening, "I'll take care of you and the baby."
"No-I-I-can't-" 
He drops his leisure pace in exchange of shorter, faster thrusts. His cock barely leaves your pussy, grinding in your hole as his breathing starts to get a little less controlled. 
"I'll make sure it takes this time too." 
Your eyes open, and you forget your panic to stare at him. You think back to the pills 18-year-old Geto had handed you. Always discreet. You'd...you'd always thought they were Satoru's idea. 
He hits something inside you, right then. You implode, crashing and burning as you gush around his dick. He's not kind enough to ease you through it, ramming his cock even harder inside your battered pussy until he's hunching over you with a shudder. You can feel his cum settle deep inside your womb. 
You stay like that for a few moments, not saying anything. It feels like hours before Satoru is moving again, drawing his softened cock out of your overstimulated pussy. You can feel the cum drip out of you too, spilling onto the desk, but you don't think Satoru's too mad about that. He flicks your clit a few times, watching your hips jerk and you give an exhausted whine. 
He kisses your breasts. He kisses up your jaw, before finding your lips. Dazed, you find yourself kissing back in reluctant acceptance, your body aching for any semblance of gentleness. 
"I love you." 
You look into his eyes, and you realize he's right. Gojo Satoru loves you, and this is how a man like him loves. He meant it, all those years ago, just like how he does now.
Satoru loves like the Sun. Too bright. With enough heat to burn your soul away. It's why you ran. 
"I love you," he repeats like the phrase doesn't kill you each time he says it, "so you're never leaving me." 
"Not ever again."
There are theories that the Moon once had color. 
It wasn't just white. It was green and blue, and red. 70 million years ago, it could have been much like the Earth. It didn't have a strong atmosphere, however. The gaseous layer was slowly stripped away. The Sun had eaten it. With no atmosphere, the unfiltered solar radiation slowly began to bleach the once colorful celestial body a dull white. Before long, the sun had created the moon to be its image. Now, the only color the moon has to offer is the sun's reflection. 
If Satoru was the Sun, then perhaps, you were the Moon. Stripped of your color. Unable to create light of your own. Reflecting only what you're given. 
How foolish of you to think you could ever escape his radiation. 
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chuluoyi · 4 months
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LOVER'S QUARREL
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- fushiguro megumi x reader
“i can't do this anymore.” you and megumi are just too different; he's stoic, you're bubbly, he prefers solitude, you love being social. it starts with fights, words you don't mean, and ends with an event that would haunt him for a long time to come.
genre: angst, breaking up, post-breakup feelings, mentions and description of injury and blood, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end (you make up!)
note: dear god i’m finally getting this out of my drafts. loosely inspired by real life events i’ve seen around my friend’s relationship sooo it might hurt a bit 🤏🏻 but who can say no to angst to eventual fluff? tagging @lees-chaotic-brain and @kasumitenbaz (as per request in the ask!), you two are always here for my megumi works, thank you!! :3 and thank you for dropping by for the event!
a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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Everyone pointed it out as a joke, that you liked him way more than he did you.
And you used to never let it ruffle you. To you, Megumi’s sternness and silence meant that he was comfortable with you. You never wanted him to change his ways just because now you were seeing each other.
But when you thought it over now, as you stood before him with an aghast expression and knives stabbing your kind, soft heart, you couldn’t help but do a double-take.
You were the one who confessed first. Most of the time, you were the one who initiated dates. You always texted him first, asking about his day, and even when he brushed you off, you would keep being this ball of sunshine and wished him a good day.
You never realized it before… that through everything, it has always been you. Unfailingly.
So how dare he spout this now?
“I can't do this anymore.”
"You... can't?" you spat out, feeling the first tendrils of anger course through you. "What exactly it is that you can't do? What do you even mean?"
"Look," Megumi stared at you squarely, and you thought now, that it was the coldest of eyes, straight and true. "It's always been like this between us lately. It's only right that we end this."
This, he said. He didn't even want to define your relationship anymore.
You scoffed. "And why do you think we always end up this way? Have you ever considered, even once, that it's because you make no effort at all?"
"I'm trying," Megumi quickly replied, almost in a hiss, and you almost recoiled. "But I just see that we'll end up nowhere, that's why I'm bringing this up now."
Oh, that freaking hurts. You boyfriend had just told you that this relationship would go nowhere. Right in your face.
Your eyes stung with tears, yet you fought to hold them back, fixing your gaze on the lamp overhead and inhaling deeply.
"You're... selfish," you stated, filled with ire. "You're always walking around eggshells around me, never telling me what is it that you really want—"
Megumi's unclouded eyes fixed on your trembling form. "We just disagree on a lot of things. You know it and it bothers you. It bothers me too. Rather than forcing our relationship, I think it's better—"
"It's always me!" you yelled then, lips quivering and eyes watering, unable to hold your emotions back any longer. "All dates, lunches—everything!" you locked your eyes with him, in mocking disbelief. "How can you say you're trying when, in truth, I'm the one putting in so much for us?!"
In that very second, Megumi thought that he hated seeing you like this. You were supposed to be the cheerful one in this relationship, and when he agreed to go out with you, he made an unspoken commitment to himself that he would at least not make you miserable.
And yet...
"...I'm sorry."
Came his reply, and you were sure that this was it.
And to rub the salt in your wound, he added, "I can't lie to you and say I haven't thought this for a while too."
As tears welled within you, you wondered and questioned what you lacked that led to this. However, the overwhelming sense of betrayal consuming your thoughts ultimately prevailed over any other emotions.
Now he could've appeared before you as a stranger and you wouldn't bat an eye, as the cold steel in his tone said, "And if blaming me is what it takes to make you feel better, then so be it."
You couldn't pinpoint the source of your sudden boldness, but in the next hot minute, you marched past him, your shoulder harshly colliding with his in a deliberate, almost spiteful manner—which, indeed, was your intention—and then you ran.
Which led to the next scene: you found yourself bawling your eyes out in the girls' lavatory.
Yuji and Nobara saw everything unfolding right before their eyes. They hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but you and Megumi were literally breaking up right the middle of their shared classroom, and it was hard not to follow the discourse until the end.
"Are you okay?" Nobara had come to your side, ensuring privacy by locking the restroom door out of your consideration. You were a sobbing mess, attempting to wipe the overflowing tears away while letting out all your emotions.
"He's..." Your voice faltered amid sobs as you gazed at your steadfast friend, your throat clogging up. "He said... he's been wanting t-to... break up with m-me..."
"That's okay, that's okay..." Nobara brought you to her arms, patting your back in reassurance. "Fushiguro is insensitive like that... don't cry over him now. He's just a wimp, okay?"
"Why is it me?" you asked her, voice brittle, still shaking with tears. "I t-tried everything! Being the supportive girlfriend..."
"If he can't appreciate what you did, then the problem lies with him," your friend stated, traces of irritation brewing in her resolute gaze. And as she firmly grasped your wrist, her next words resonated. "Not you."
. . .
"Do you really have to break her heart like that?" Yuji fidgeted with his hoodie, staring at his best friend with a blend of confusion and sympathy.
Megumi sighed, finally ruffling his hair into a mess, as if expressing his own state of mind. “This is for the best.”
Yuji’s eyebrows visibly creased. “How is this ‘for the best’? She’s miserable, and you…” he assessed him, scanning him from head to toe, “it doesn’t seem you’re faring any better too.”
“The longer she is with me, the unhappier she will be.” Megumi glanced at the bathroom’s direction. “She can deserve better.”
He was always too quiet, too boring, not able to match your energy too. He couldn’t fault you for expecting more, whereas he was just not exactly built for your expectations.
Megumi really thought he wanted it to end. At one point, it even felt like a chore, but…
How strange. Why did it feel like something was clawing at his chest?
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Time heals. Megumi knew that by theory, but he really did see it firsthand when he saw you all giggling and happy again three weeks after he initiated the breakup.
With Hakari.
“Yo, what are you glaring at?” Panda asked, but Megumi didn’t pay him any mind.
An upperclassman, Hakari Kinji, was naturally cool and talented. He was laid back, knew how to have fun—all in all, a total opposite of Fushiguro Megumi altogether.
Three weeks. It’s only been three weeks since then.
“Megumi?”
Wait… Aren’t three weeks too fast to get over your ex?
“Megumi!”
“Huh?” he turned to the sentient panda with a jerk. “Oh, what is it?”
He looked at him with a concerned gaze. "Why do you look so scary? It's almost as if you're about to punch someone..."
But who was he to argue? He had no right to be upset now.
"Is it Kinji?" Panda gasped, finally putting two and two together when he followed his line of sight. "Oh Megumi... but you—"
"Just shut up, please," he blurted then, a hint of annoyance in his tone. With that, Panda didn't pursue it further, leaving him with his thoughts.
From where he was at the field, he could clearly see your radiant smile for Hakari. It was clear that the two of you shared a degree of friendship, but Megumi never knew that you two were that close.
...huh?
Why did the sight irritate him so suddenly? Why did his chest twinge again?
What a fool. You're the one driving her away, you idiot.
Suddenly these memories popped up one by one—
Of you suddenly hugging him from behind in an attempt to surprise him.
How he pressed his lips on the crown of your head when you fall asleep on his shoulder.
How you would give him that dopey smile when he pulled you close.
But on harder days after missions gone wrong, he’d ignore you altogether— the slight disappointment in your smile then. How your expression fell when he told you to go. How you slumped and looked back in hopes of him changing his mind.
“Haaaah.” Megumi turned away, unwilling to keep watching you any longer. Why? Why hadn’t it occurred to him before now?
Why did he long for you now? Why not before, when you were still his?
They were right. It seems people tend to desire what isn't meant for them.
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What could have been more painfully awkward than being sent into a mission with your ex-boyfriend?
You would kill Gojo for this. Or at least give him the lowest possible score in his teaching evaluation for the year. How could he? Your breakup was an infamous public spectacle, so this setup was undoubtedly intentional!
You were losing your head over this, and yet your ex-boyfriend...
"Keep your guard up," Megumi reminded curtly, in a warning tone. He looked as vigilant and straight as always, as if he wasn't even bothered.
You threw him a dirty look, offended. "You don't have to tell me twice."
This just cranked up the discomfort to an excruciating level. The mix of unresolved tension and memories—okay, you might be an emo, but how were you supposed to be cool with all of these hanging in the air?
Your site of exorcism was an abandoned warehouse, and the cursed spirit in question was supposed to be a grade 3. You two were grade 2 sorcerers now, so you were a perfect fit to exorcise it. But there was indeed this unease in the air that you couldn't put your finger to.
"Isn't it awfully too quiet?" you unwittingly muttered, staring at the darkness of the wall. You couldn't feel any cursed energy belonging to any possible malevolent entity, and that was what unsettled you the most.
Megumi frowned at your line of sight. "It is. Stay close."
You blinked at what he said, and before you knew it, the familiar scent of him being near to you made your entire body burst with this equally familiar warmth. When you looked up to him, seeing the solid sharpness in that dark eyes of his and his jaw set, dead butterflies in your chest rose back to life again, against your heartbreak and better judgement.
Stay close, he said... So he is worried...
And in an attempt to hide how flustered you were, you looked down.
You walked a few good steps, when suddenly he asked, "So, are you with Hakari-senpai now?"
"Huh?" You spun around, your expression a mix of surprise and confusion.
"You two seem close."
Seem close? Seem close... wait, so Megumi had noticed...?
Suddenly, you felt incited and it made you angry. "That's none of your business," your voice carried a sharp edge, hissing. And you knew you were being a bit mean by adding, "You broke up with me, so why do you even care?"
In that moment, Megumi could've sworn his chest throbbed. Your cutting tone pierced directly into his heart, lodging itself there.
You had all rights to be annoyed, and he knew that. Why did that question even slip out of him?
"Nah, nevermind," he mumbled in response, looking away.
Awkwardness lingered afterwards. You hated this, but no, you weren't above being petty. He had broken your heart and it still stung even now. If your intentionally biting words did to him even a fraction of what he made you feel, then you would find a small sense of satisfaction in it.
But you weren't able to ponder about your mess of feelings further when Megumi abruptly yanked your arm, his voice soaking with urgency, "It's here!"
Sure enough, the grotesque cursed spirit with the shape of a giant bee broke through the walls with a bang. The two of you immediately readied your fighting stance. Megumi was ready with his divine dogs, while you with your cursed weapon.
For a while, you engaged the cursed spirit with all you had. You were trying to focus on the enemy, but you couldn't help but notice the way Megumi always looked at you every few seconds, checking for any signs of injury or harm.
Frankly speaking, he trusted your strength and knew that you were a capable sorcerer. You had been paired in a mission before and he knew both your potential and shortcomings. It was just there was something about this place that had his senses on high alert.
And his fears were proven true when you yelped and were flung onto the grimy floor. "Y/N!"
"I'm fine!" you shouted in a rush, scrambling to your feet. However, as you spun towards him, your scream tore through the hall as you caught sight of the bee lurking behind him. "Megumi!"
He got distracted. The bee quickly latched onto him and almost stung him, until he wrestled it off and summoned Nue and exorcised it.
You went to his side that instant. "Are you okay?!"
"I am." But then he winced and almost fell on his knees if you didn't have a secure grip on him. He savored your touch and breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that now you two were safe.
"Megumi! Oh god!" Panic surged through you as you pulled him close. His side was bleeding, and you widened your eyes at the sight.
"I'm okay, I promise," he rasped, looking you in the eyes. "What abo—"
Then you saw it, the flicker from deep from that corner of platform, and suddenly, you grasped the source of the unease that had been lingering within you all this time. It wasn't the bee Megumi had just exorcised—
At that moment, there was no room for thought, one thing was certain: you didn't want him to get hurt more.
He didn't manage to finish his sentence when suddenly you pushed him away with so much force he never thought you had. Everything crashed so suddenly, he didn't have the time to brace himself or grab you with him, as another cursed bee appeared out of nowhere and—
Reality flashed before his eyes as he stared at you in sheer horror. At how the cursed spirit tore your body, sinking its hollow stinger in you.
You didn't really know what happened next. Everything was muffled—the frantic movements around you turned into a blur, along with Megumi's yells. Otherworldly pain coursed through your entire being and your ears rang, then everything in your line of sight became distorted and faded, along with your consciousness. Next and the last thing you knew was Megumi's battered face, a final imprint before you succumbed to the void.
Megumi had exorcised the remaining cursed spirit and staggered to his feet—falling a few times, but he made his way towards you through gritted teeth. You are hurt. He forced himself to get to you and pull you into his arms.
And suddenly, suddenly, nothing mattered anymore as overwhelming terror consumed him upon seeing you. Blood streamed from your abdomen so much that it made a continuous pool.
"You stupid—!" He choked out, voice hitching. You were no longer conscious and it devastated him even more. "Hey, hey? Wake up—hells—"
You, who did everything you could to save your relationship. You, who cried tears for him when he blatantly broke your heart. And you, who put himself first—and now facing the consequences.
It crashed upon him in that very second, the clarity. What was he thinking back then? He still loves you.
"If you die on me, I won't forgive you."
Megumi scooped you in his arms, pressing you close to his chest, the blood seeping from his wound be damned as he looked at your serene face. His heart shattered in the worst way possible and he almost wheezed at the sticky sensation of your blood—and how lifeless you felt in his grasp—but he willed it away.
"Don't," his broken rasp echoed the walls as he took each step to get both of you out of this hellhole. He winced and hissed at his own injury, chewing his lip in frustration, at how helpless he was.
"Don't leave me."
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It was like a distant, hazy memory.
Was it a memory though? No. It seemed far too real for that.
The throbbing headache pounding through your skull and shivers that wracked your body pulled you back to reality. There was a heavy pressure on your abdomen and any movement sent sharp pain shooting through you.
You gradually opened your eyes, squinting against the brightness. You were in a hospital gown, an IV was injected on your arm, and the sterile scent made your stomach twist, as nausea creeping through your guts. Your vision was still blurry as you tried to look around to find someone who waited for you. As you slowly turned your head to the side, you saw him, sitting in the chair right next your bed.
Megumi was sleeping in such uncomfortable position, his head resting on the edge of your bed. He appeared peaceful, almost childlike, devoid of his usual stoic demeanor.
Your heartstrings were tugged at this rare sight. He also sustained injuries and yet... he was waiting for you to wake up, here.
Your chest swelled with warmth, which was quickly followed by a sting of heartbreak. Still, you two broke up...
You jolted, and the inadvertent movement sent a wave of pain that seemed to paralyze your nerves, causing you to whimper. The noise woke Megumi from his slumber, as he shot his eyes open in alarm, catching your hand in his.
"Hey... Are you okay?" Megumi worriedly looked down at you with a visible frown, and the grimace of pain on your face, accompanied by trembling lips, was enough of an answer. He hastily scrambled out in slight panic, "I'll get Ieiri-san."
When Shoko came and got you the painkillers, your pain receded somewhat. Through it all, Megumi stood there, casting concerned glances in your way.
"Bedrest for the week," Shoko stated firmly, assessing your wound with a no-nonsense expression. "Your injury isn't minor—it's serious enough that you're strongly advised against excessive movement."
You could only nod in response. Megumi bowed. "Thank you, Ieiri-san." Once the doctor departed, silence settled over the room once more.
“Why did you do that?” he quietly asked then, referring to what you did for him. And when you turned to him, you saw it clearly.
He looked pale, and there was this haunted look in his eyes. It broke your heart a little.
"You were hurt." Your voice came out dry, and you realized firsthand just how parched you were. Seeing Megumi looking down never quite sat right with you. He was meant to be an unwavering presence, someone strong enough to sway your convictions.
However, a pang struck when he countered with stern eyes, "You didn't have to do that."
...he was right. You didn't have to. What he didn't know was that you were still holding on these stupid feelings, which drove you to shield him. It made you ponder: if your roles were reversed, would he not step in to protect you at all?
"Why are you here?" You weren't sure if the bitterness in your tone was evident, but you continued anyway. "You don't have to be here either."
"Don't have to?" His gaze bore disbelief, as if not believing your words. "I'm—"
"If it's because I saved you, Megumi—"
“Do not even think, even for a moment, that I won’t be concerned over you.” His voice, deep and hoarse, struck you to the core, silencing your words. “Never. I always, always want you to be safe.”
Your mind became a blank slate. Suddenly, all that mattered was his voice.
"Don't you realize how terrifying it was? Seeing you like that?" Megumi spat, his green eyes shining with intensity, teeth gritted and fists clenched. "How could you even think that I wouldn't be here—" his breath hitched, and then his lips trembled slightly, "—for you?"
You blinked quickly, a feeling stirred within you—stemming from that cursed, fragile heart of yours to be exact, evident from the rapid thumping in your chest.
You dumbly uttered, "But we are—"
"Oh, Goddamnit." Megumi cursed, and honestly you were taken aback. It wasn't really in him to swear, so this really bugged him. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, and despite the situation, your heart skipped a beat at the sight. Even a mess in a hospital gown, your ex-boyfriend was still undeniably attractive.
He stared at you squarely in the eye, unflinching, steadfast and true, the very image of Fushiguro Megumi you admired from afar and fell in love with in the first place half a year ago. "You don't have to... say anything, if you don't want to. Right now... just hear me out."
And the things he said next... all of them, you could say, caught you entirely off guard.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not trying hard enough, and—damn it, for making you sad. I never, ever wanted to see you that upset."
Megumi drew in a sharp breath, averting his gaze. "And for days, I've wondered if you and Hakari-senpai are now a thing... and you know what? I hate it so much. I know I have no grounds to feel this way, after what I did, but..."
And like a train wreck, his final words hit you hard. Tears welled up in your eyes in immediate response.
“I'm a loser, and a coward too, maybe,” he shrugged, a tinge of self-deprecation in his tone. “And I suck at telling people my feelings, but I love you. I still do.”
A sob slipped out of your throat and you hastily pulled the blanket over your face, much to his surprise. He thought he had worsened things, with the way you were turning away from him.
But then, from beneath the blanket, in a croaky voice, you proclaimed, "Fushiguro Megumi, you're a complete and utter idiot."
And Megumi didn't know that he had been holding back his breath as he chuckled heartily, relieved that you would still take his ass back after this prolonged mess. He knew he still had a lot to make up for and was determined to show it through his actions.
"Maybe I am, yeah."
"That's possibly the longest shit you have ever spouted in one breath."
"Yeah..."
But he got his chance back, and he knew that you would be alright. Both of you are.
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On one sunny day...
"Hey, are you alone?"
Megumi glanced up from his phone, only to be met with a random girl standing in front of him, batting her eyelashes with an ambiguous intent. He blinked at her curiously.
"No. Can I help you?"
The girl twirled her hair suggestively. "Ah, you see... I see you all in your lonesome and I think you're quite cute—"
The hell? Megumi frowned, and he was really about to give this bimbo a piece of his mind when—
Oh, oh. Forget that. Megumi's attention snapped to you on the opposite side of the crossroad. All pretty and dolled up with that crop tee and miniskirt he once mentioned would look great on you by a slip of tongue—that accidental comment earned him your teasing quips for weeks already.
"Sorry, I'm here for my girlfriend. Bye."
Abruptly dismissing the girl, he didn't catch how comically offended she was for being turned down in a span of 20 seconds. He took big strides towards you, as you crossed the street, and you immediately beamed when you caught the sight of his face.
"Megumi!"
Ah, this is going to be a good day, he thought. As he gazed at your pretty face, and caught your hand in his, clasping it tightly, reveling in your scent and the warmth of your presence beside him—
He was content, and once again it dawned on him, that he likes you so, so damn much.
"Let's get started on our date, shall we?"
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loveluvrs · 18 days
Text
the slip up l lando norris x reader
request/summary – lando and reader are in a secret established relationship, until lando accidentally slips up on stream
author's notes – first piece of writing, feedback appreciated!!! this is just my thoughts written down honestly, i didn’t have much idea where i was going with it so enjoy.
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Max was streaming with Lando at his place. Lando drags his feet over to the stream room, sitting on a chair next to Max. He was scrolling on his phone, trying to pass the time. 
“Mate, I’m gonna leave, you’re being so boring,” Lando joked under his breath as he ran a hand through his hair. 
“I’ll make things more interesting then. Chat, wanna know something really interesting about Lando?” Max asked with a mischievous smile as he looked back at Lando. Lando watched with suspicion of what max could say next. 
“Lando’s got a secret girlfriend,” Max sings to annoy Lando. Lando’s eyes shot up, his heart pounding as he turned off his phone, the same phone he was using to text you, his girlfriend. “I don’t, chat, don’t listen to him. He’s just trying to piss me off,” Lando says as he shoots Max a glare. 
—————
A few months later, everyone has chalked up that interaction to Max simply trying to annoy and rile up Lando, and no one thought much of it. On a miracle of a night in spring, Lando was in Monaco and decided to stream. He had a hoodie on, his hair all messy, but a smile on his face. About an hour into the stream, I knock on the door of his stream room quietly. Lando immediately turned off his video and mic, telling chat to give him a minute. 
I walk in, a black slip dress on with a cropped white cardigan, my hair and makeup done all fancy. “Hi, baby,” Lando says as he pulls me in by the waist, onto his lap. “Girls night tonight, right?” He says with a soft smile. He always makes sure to pay attention to anything I’ve mentioned to him, including my plans to hang out with Lily and Carmen tonight, Alex and George’s girlfriends. 
I hum in response. “Yeah, we’re gonna get dinner and then take some Instagram photos,” I say as I stand up from his lap, “you like the dress? It’s new.” I give him a little twirl to show off the dress. 
Lando smiles brightly. “I love it, baby, you look gorgeous. Like always,” he says as he leans in for a kiss. “Text me when you’re done and need me to pick you up, yeah?” I nod and smile. 
Once I leave, Lando puts his headset back on, turning his mic and camera back on. He scrunches up his face as he’s met by shouting from Max into his headset. “What’s your problem, man?” Lando asks with confusion. Max sighs. “Lando, you had your mic on the whole time. People heard that whole conversation and I was trying to tell you but as always, you ignored me,” Max says with some frustration in his voice, but mostly amusement. 
“Oh,” Lando says as he realizes what has happened. Not knowing what to do, Lando panics and ends stream. 
When my friends and I reach the restaurant, we find it pouring rain, which was the most of our worries since the restaurant was outdoor. With frowns, we all pile back into the car and drive ourselves home. I arrive home only twenty minutes after I left, my dress soaked. My brows furrow in confusion to see Lando on the couch on his phone when i come back, and not on stream. 
I slip off my shoes. “I thought you were streaming?” I ask softly as I make my way over to him. “What happened to you? You’re all soaked! Here, let me get you a towel and you can get dressed into some of my hoodie and sweats to get comfy,” Lando says, trying to avoid the fact that he had just live streamed his whole conversation with his girlfriend. 
I saw the panic in Lando’s eyes. “Stop,” I say as I stood in front of him, “what did you do?” Lando shoots me a bright grin. “I love you, babe. So so much. And you know I’d do anything for you.” This made me even more suspicious. “Lan,” I say as my eyes narrowed.
“Okay, okay. I might have forgotten to mute my mic when we were talking right before you left. I swear I thought I had turned it off!” He says as he panics before beginning to ramble. “And I called you baby, and gorgeous, and your voice was heard too. And Max was telling me the whole time through my headset, but it was off and even if it were on, you know I don’t think about anything else when I’m with you. And there were thousands of people on the stream and you specifically told me you wanted to keep it private because you didn’t want to get hate crimed by the fans and you wouldn’t be able to handle it and I mean, I wanted to but it just slipped and im so so sorry but-“ He stops in confusion when a giggle escapes my lips. “Why aren’t you upset?” He asks slowly.
I smile as I slip my arms around his neck, his hands instinctively wrapping around my waist. “Well. Number one, you’re cute when you panic. Number two, no one saw me, so it’s okay. I mean, considering how in love you are with me, they were bound to find out at some point that you had a girlfriend,” I tease with a smile tugging at my lips. 
He scoffs and rolls his eyes playfully at me. “Okay, yeah. I am absolutely in love with you. Still, you’re not bothered by this?” he asks slowly, hesitation lacing his voice.
“I promise I’m not. It was a mistake. Plus, that just means it’s gonna be all the more fun trying to watch them figure out who it is you’re dating,” I say playfully with a giggle. 
“That’s true,” Lando says softly with a hum, “I love you.”
“I love you too. Although, don’t make me have to have you on adult supervision every time you stream now to make sure nothing else slips out of your mouth,” I tease as I playfully poke his side. 
“Ah! Okay okay, promise,” he says with a giggle as he leans in for a gentle and loving kiss.
2K notes · View notes
sarahreesbrennan · 3 months
Note
Are all the themes in “in other lands” supposed to be a commentary on something? Or do you just like writing sex scenes between minors, age gaps, and reverse misogyny?
Genuine question.
Ohhh, my dear anon, I don't believe this is a genuine question.
But it does bring up something I've been meaning to talk about. So I'll take the bait.
Firstly. Yes, my work contains a commentary on the world around us. I wonder what I could be doing with the child soldiers being sexually active in their teens (people hook up right after battles), and the age gap relationship ending in the younger one being too mature for the elder. What could I possibly have been attempting when I said 'how absurd gender roles are, when projected onto people we haven't been accustomed by our own society to see that way'? I wasn't being subtle, that's for sure.
Secondly. Yes I do enjoy writing! I think I should, it's my life's work. Am I titillated by my own writing, no - though I think it's fine to be. The sex scenes of In Other Lands aren't especially titillating, to be honest. It is interesting to me how often people sneer at women for writing romance and sex scenes, having 'book boyfriends,' insinuating women writers fancy their own characters. Women having too much immoral fun! Whereas men clearly write about sex for high literary purposes.
… I have to say from my experience of women and men's writing, I haven't found that to be true.
I’m not in this to have an internet argument. I prefer to leave my anons open since not everyone has a tumblr, as @neil-gaiman says it’s an internet backwater, but a lovely one for those like myself who enjoy an essay about fictional characters! Still I will close my inbox to anons if I must. Mostly people use bad faith takes to poke at others from the other side of a screen for kicks. But I do know some truly internalise the attitude that writing certain things is wrong, that anyone who makes mistakes must be shunned as impure, and that is a deeply Victorian and restrictive attitude that guarantees unhappiness.
I've become increasingly troubled by the very binary and extreme ways of thinking I see arising on the internet. They come naturally from people being in echo chambers, becoming hostile to differing opinions, and the age-old conundrum of wanting to be good, fearing you aren't, and making the futile effort to be free of sin. It makes me think of Tennyson, who when travelling through Ireland at the time of the Great Famine, said nobody should talk about the 'Irish distress' to him and insisted the window shades of his carriage be shut as he went from castle to castle. So he wouldn't see the bodies. But that didn't make the bodies cease to be.
In Les Mis, Victor Hugo explores why someone might steal, what that means about them and their circumstances, and who they might be - and explores why someone else is made terribly unhappy, and endangers others, through their own too rigid adherence to judgement and condemnation without pity. The story understands both Jean Valjean the thief and Javert the policeman. Javert’s way of thinking is the one that inevitably leads to tragedy.
Depiction isn't endorsement. Depiction is discussion.
Many of my loved ones have had widely varying relationships to and experience of sex (including 'none'). They've felt all different types of ways about it. If writing about them is not permissible, I close them out. I'd much rather a dialogue be open than closed.
I do understand the urge to write what seems right to others. I've been brain-poisoned that way myself. I used to worry so much about my female characters doing the wrong things, because then they'd be justly hated! Then I noted which of my writer friends had people love their female characters the most - and it was the one who wrote their female characters as screwing up massively, making rash and sometimes wrong decisions. Who wrote them as people. Because that's what people do. That's what feels true to readers.
I want my characters to feel true to readers. I want my characters to react in messy ways to imperfect situations. I love fantasy, I love wild action and I love deep thought, and I want to engage. That's what In Other Lands is about. That's even more what Long Live Evil is about. That sexy lady who sashays in to have sexy sex with the hero - what is her deal? Someone who tricks and lies to others - why are they doing that, how did they get so skilled at it? What makes one person cruelly judgemental, and another ignore all boundaries? What makes Carmen Maria Machado describe ‘fictional queer villains’ as ‘by far the most interesting characters’? What irritates people about women having a great time? What attracts us to power, to fiction, and to transgression?
I don’t know the answers to all those questions, but I know I want to explore them. And I know one more thing.
If the moral thing to do is shut people out and shut people up? Count me among the villains.
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chrisevansonly · 2 months
Text
Playing With Fire
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Max Verstappen x Female Reader
summary: you and stella are max’s world, and he’d be damned if he let his father speak ill of either of you.
warnings: angst, jos (ew), angry max, slight mentions of crying, fluff at end
a/n: this is a re-upload to see if it shows up in the tags 🥲
When Stella was born, it was one of the best days ever for Max, seeing his baby girl come into the world, and the way she practically latched onto him from the minute she was welcomed into the family. He knew right then and there he would be the absolute best father to his daughter, just as he was the best husband to you, and always had been.
If there was one thing Max nor you completely enjoyed it was family events when everyone got together, including Jos. Max’s father.Max and his father have a complicated relationship, in a way they seem close but there’s always that edge to his dad that keeps all of you on the edge of your seat. You in particular seemed to still be an issue to him, and every once in a while, you’d become the punching bag at the dinner table.
Stella was sleeping in your arms as you sat next to Max at the dinner table, Jos across from you both and his mother on the other end with the rest of his family and some friends that had joined for the monthly get together.
“So when is the next Verstappen coming?” His father asked looking at you. Stella was only 6 months old so you and Max were happy to just enjoy the time you have with her now, not even thinking about another baby.
“Oh, well i’m sure someday we’ll have another…”
“We’re in no rush” Max butted in, assuming it would stop his father’s line of questioning.
“Yes well, it’s just you had a baby girl…there has to be a boy in the equation…”
You furrowed your brows, fixing Stella’s blanket as she continued to sleep, oblivious to the rising tensions in the room.
“I don’t think so? There’s nothing wrong with having girls..”
“Who’s supposed to carry on the name?”
Max sat up straighter, his hand squeezing your knee gently
“Stella will just as our next baby will eventually, regardless of their gender.”
Jos shook his head taking a sip of his water as he sighed, before looking back at you.
“All i’m saying is you should be trying for a boy.”
“Well it doesn’t work that way.”
The table was getting quieter as the father and son squared off, Jos not backing down and Max not about to let his father attack you in anyway. Not on his watch.
“I knew the second you had a daughter it would make you weak, let alone marrying her and having that baby! She’s useless if she can’t have a boy! You’re wasting your time Max, I knew from the second I met her it would ruin our family.”
Used to his harassment you didn’t cry, but it didn’t stop tears from welling up in your eyes as you almost deflated in a way, hugging Stella closer to your chest. The minute your eyes looked to Max, long gone was his soft stare and gentle smile, replaced was a look almost predatory as he looked to his father.
“Watch your fucking mouth when you’re talking about the mother of my child.”
“Max-”
“No, get out.”
“Excuse me?” Jos’s eyes widened and he shook his head
“GET THE HELL OUT!”
Max yelled, slamming his hands down on the table, seconds later Stella stirring before whimpering in your arms. The dutchman froze and looked apologetically at you as you excused yourself to go up to the nursery, only then turning back to look at his father.
“If you ever so much as think about speaking about my wife and daughter again, it’ll be me coming after you. Now get the fuck out.”
Jos didn’t even offer to say anything else, pushing back his chair and storming out, effectively cutting the dinner to an end as everyone left, Max’s mother sticking around to help clean up and of course comfort you afterwards. She had always been close to you and Max and in a way she was like a mother to you too.
“Baby?”
Turning at the sound of your husbands voice you smiled, still holding Stella in your arms, only this time she was much calmer, her eyes lighting up as she spots her dad.
“Hi, everything okay?”
“I should be asking you that…”
Shrugging you let him take Stella from you, his demeanour much more relaxed with his baby girl in his arms as he placed a few kisses to her cheeks.
“I know what your father is like, yes it hurts but I love you and you love me and that’s all that matters…we have a beautiful baby girl, and that man will never be able to change what we have.”
Max nods, bringing you into his side and leaning down to kiss you softly
“You’re right, he can’t. I’ll never let him ever disrespect you like that ever again. No matter what I have to do.”
“I know you won’t Maxie…and I love you very much for it, Stella too, huh baby?”
Stroking her cheek gently she babbled happily, leaning on Max’s shoulder, her hand patting his chest gently
“My girls…I love you both so much, i’ll always protect you both, with my everything.”
Nothing else needed to be said in the moment, all Max needed was his girls and he felt whole. Nothing else mattered because to him he had everything he’d ever wanted in his life. Despite what he went through growing up, Jos had never made his heart turn cold, he made it big enough to hold the love he had for you two, and would always hold, no matter what happened.
Besides, everyone knew messing with the Verstappen girls, was playing with fire.
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gh0stsp1d3r · 3 months
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Please please some dating luke as percys sister and him finding out about you two when he sees you both in cabin 3 🙏🏼🙏🏼
This is how I find out?
omg I love this.
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
Warnings: Brief making out, getting caught making out,, secret relationships, Luke never turned, reader and Luke are like 2 teenagers in love
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“I don’t hate him- I just hate not having the place to myself anymore, you know?” You spoke to Luke. “He’s a good kid.”
He nodded, carrying his lunch tray. “At least it’s not like mine..” he shrugged, giving you a small smile.
“Yeah, I would run away.” You laughed, and you both sat down across from Percy.
“Hey, Percy.” You both said in unison, and Percy mumbled a hi. You noticed him staring at something behind you guys, rather someone.
Luke quirked an eyebrow and turned to who he was looking at Clarisse.
“You don’t think she still has something to do with it, do you?” Luke said, turning back to Percy.
“I don’t know.” He said, “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”
You and Luke glanced at each other for a moment and then you sighed, looking at Percy. He looked at you back now.
“Don’t let it bother you so much. You finished the quest.”
“I know but-“
“Percy. Stop. Worrying. So. Much.” You’ve only known him for a few days, but he seemed to be anxious, a lot.
He didn’t say anything, and stared down at his food with melancholy etched on his face. Once lunch was over, you and Luke stood up, and Percy went over to Annabeth.
“You’re definitely his sister.” He said with a small laugh, you both walked into the forest and you intertwined your hand into his.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because, you just met him like what.. a few months ago and you’re very protective of him.”
“I am not…”
He gave you a knowing look and you rolled your eyes. “I’m like that with everyone.”
“I know. It’s part of why I love you.” He teased with a small smile on his face.
“Stop being corny.” You smiled.
“Can’t help myself.”
You both walked for some more time, before you had to go back for the bonfire. You let go of his hand, and found a seat in the back of everyone.
After a while, he leaned over and whispered to you.
“You wanna go to your cabin?”
You quickly nodded, you both ducked down and slowly made your way to the cabin.
“How do we get away with it every time?” You asked him, sitting down on the bed.
He shrugged. “We’re probably breaking about 4 rules right now.” He laid down, arm over his head, and you smiled, curling up to him and laying on his chest.
“You may not be in another God’s cabin.” You mocked Chiron.
“You must be at the bonfire at all times.” He mocked him, with a laugh.
“No dating.”
“What’s the fourth?” You asked.
He smirked, craning his head and capturing your lips in a kiss.
You both moved around and sat up now, you began to straddle his lap, you held his face in your hands, and his hands were on your hips.
You both were so caught up in the kiss, neither of you realized Percy standing in the doorway until he cleared his throat. You jumped off of him, standing up and dusting yourself off.
“Percy!” You laughed nervously. “Did the fire already end?”
“Seriously? This is how I find out?” He said, looking at you both back and fourth.
“We wanted to tell you, but we couldn’t. Dionysus would have our heads on a stick.” You said.
Percy sighed, moving to his bed.
“How long have you guys been dating?”
“Almost a year now.” Luke said.
“Jesus… just, don’t keep any more stuff from me, please?” He said after a little.
You both nodded, and Percy spoke up again “And don’t do any of that in front of me.”
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atomicami · 4 months
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vengeance.
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roommate!abby anderson x fem!reader
- summary: you’re tired of dealing with your boyfriend’s awful habits. when he ends up crossing the line with you one day, you decide to get back at him, and your not-so-innocent roommate has the perfect way to do it.
- content: smut MDNI, no outbreak/modern au, reader and abby are roommates, reader has a shitty boyfriend, slight mentions of alcohol consumption and partying, infidelity/cheating, sex tape/amateur porn, kinda roughdom!abby, strap usage (r!receiving), abby referring to the strap as her cock, slight choking, daddy kink, abby hits it from the back, oral & fingering (r!receiving), pussy slapping, squirting, aftercare at the end ofc
- author’s note: hi everyone!! so i decided to do my very first collab with none other than the amazingly talented @whore4abby, i’m so grateful to have done this with you!!
also, consider this fic as our 1k special from us to you. thank you so much for all the love and support you’ve given to the both of us 🤍 we hope you enjoy it!!
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you don’t really know how you got yourself to this point.
well, you do, actually…but you didn’t know how this could have possibly escalated so fast.
it was just a silly little conversation at first. you were simply venting to your roommate, abby about your boyfriend for what was probably the millionth time now.
“ugh, i just can’t believe him!” you exclaimed to her as you frantically paced around your room. “i told him to make the best impression to meet my parents last weekend and what does he do?! he shows up to the restaurant thirty minutes late smelling like alcohol. how can he be so…so inconsiderate?!”
you’ve been in an on-again, off-again relationship with your boyfriend for about a year now. everything went fine with the two of you at first, but now it somehow just progressed to where you both can’t even make it a week without breaking up.
abby is sat at the foot of your bed, nodding in acknowledgement as you continued to ramble to her about your asshole boyfriend. you truly couldn’t ask for a better friend like her to listen to all of your problems about this, because unlike abby, you knew that anyone else you might know couldn’t withstand having to hear about the same person every damn day of the week.
“i seriously think i’m gonna break up with him now, for good this time.” you tell her with confidence.
abby lets out a sigh and rolls her eyes at your statement. “isn’t that what you said the last fifteen times though?” she asked, further manspreading on your bed before pulling her phone out of her pocket to scroll through it.
“i know, i know,” you said, continuing to pace around your room. “he’s done so much stupid shit lately, but this is honestly the final straw for me. who knows how much worse he could get if i—“
“hey, um…you might wanna see this.” abby says, showing you her phone screen. “isn’t that him?”
“what? what are you—“ your words drift off for a moment. you take a step towards her to take a closer look at her phone. it was an instagram story that her friend manny had posted, containing a video of some frat party happening right now and you could visibly see a girl grinding and making out with your boyfriend, clear as day.
now that was really the last straw for you.
“that asshole…” you mutter quietly to yourself as you watched the story again.
to be honest, you weren’t even that upset about it. well, you were, but not to where you’d be in tears crying over him. but rather, you had an urge to try to get back at him somehow. you wanted to retaliate against him. you wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine.
you wanted to give him vengeance.
“i seriously can’t believe him right now,” you tell abby again as you hand the phone back to her. “you know, i’m not even upset that he cheated on me, i just…” you pause for a moment to take a deep breath. “i just wish i could get back at him, give him some sort of payback you know?”
“yeah, i get you.” abby replies before looking back down at her phone. “you know…i think i might have an idea to get back at him…show that asshole what he’s missing…” she said, flipping her phone around to eye at the camera for a moment before looking back up at you.
“really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow in curiosity as you took another step towards her. “i’m down for whatever, what did you have in mind?”
˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ ˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ ˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ ˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆。˚
and that’s how you got to where you were now, as if it had happened in a matter of seconds.
“c’mon, baby… look at the camera for me.” abby murmured to you from behind.
you laid at the center of your bed, bare body sprawled out with your ass up and abby’s thick, black strap nestled deep inside your wet cunt.
you didn’t want to admit it, but the stretch that abby’s cock had in you was overbearing. you really thought you’d take it, you told her so yourself. but now that you were feeling every single inch inside you, from base to tip—you were very, very wrong. you’re trying as best as you can to follow abby’s commands, but the immense length and girth of her strap has you feeling dizzy.
one of her hands reaches down under your stomach and makes its way up to your neck. “you really want me to repeat myself right now, princess?” she says in a firm tone, keeping her grip on your neck. “i said, look at the camera for me.”
“oh, fuck—“ you whimper to yourself as chills start to go through your spine. your whole body is fucking trembling and abby still has yet to move her cock inside you.
you try to lift your head up, looking straight into the camera on abby’s phone that was currently propped up in front of the two of you, the most dumbfounded expression was stricken on your face at the moment. you were already so cockdrunk and it clearly shows.
“atta girl…would you look at that?” abby says, looking into the camera with you as well. “see how pretty your girlfriend looks on my cock? she’s already drunk and i haven’t even started moving yet…not so bad for a girl if i do say so myself.” she continues narrating into the camera. “i’ll show you how it’s really done, yeah?”
and with that she began to start moving, painfully slow to say the least. you felt her hand let go of its grip on your neck and move to your hip, gripping it tightly as she kept slowly thrusting her cock inside you.
“you like that, princess? like how my cock feels inside you?” she asks in between her thrusts.
you end up mumbling something into the sheets, and abby could’ve sworn that you were calling her a name. her hand quickly returns back to your neck, lifting you up and pulling you back towards her as she kept her cock inside you. “what did you just call me? tell me what you just said.” she says in a stern tone, slowly tightening her grip on your neck.
“f-feels so good, d-daddy…” you slur out to her, eyes rolling to the back of your head as the tip of the strap gently presses against your g spot.
the smirk on abby’s face grew wider as she heard you call her that name. it was like music to her ears, and she couldn’t help but play along with it. “yeah? does it feel good, princess? does daddy’s cock feel good inside that little pussy of yours?” she asks, receiving a whiny nod from you in response.
abby looks into the camera and lets out a quiet groan at the sight of the two of you on her phone screen. “oh fuck, you’re not wrong…let’s take a closer look there, shall we?” she says, keeping your body up against hers with one hand as she moves forward and grabs her phone with the other. you look down as she brings the front camera down to both of your lower bodies where the strap was connecting it. now keeping her bicep firm on your upper body, she snakes her hand down to your gushing pussy, spreading its puffy lips open with two fingers in front of the camera.
“would you look at that…” she murmurs, bringing the camera closer. “that pussy’s practically crying all over my cock. does he ever get you this wet, princess?”
“n-no…” you whine out, shaking your head. “he doesn’t…”
“oh, poor thing…” she murmurs from behind, reaching down to rub your throbbing clit. “seems like you need daddy to take care of you, yeah?”
“y-yes, daddy, please…n-need you to fuck me…”
abby gently lowers you back down onto your bed before setting her phone back to its original spot, screen still fixed on the both of you. she places a hand onto each of your hips, gripping them tightly as she begins to slowly thrust her cock into your pussy.
as abby began to fuck you, you were now buried into the sheets again, releasing muffled moans and whines with every thrust of abby’s hips. in that moment, your boyfriend, and all of the fights and encounters you’ve had with him were the last things on your mind. you didn’t care about him. you didn’t even care about the video, knowing that he’ll be watching it soon. all that was on your mind now was abby and the large piece of black silicone stretching you open.
“does that feel good, baby?” she asks, slowly speeding up her pace. “c’mon baby, why don’t you tell him how it feels?”
you muster up the energy to at least turn your head to the side to respond. “f-feels amazing, daddy…b-best cock i’ve ever had…” you slur back to her, eyes fluttering shut in pleasure as you fist the sheets tightly.
“you hear that?” she says into the camera. “it’s not even real, yet it’s the best cock she’s ever had…bet it’s bigger than whatever you have going on down there too…”
you continue to whine into the sheets, weakly pushing your hips back against abby’s cock as a sign for her to speed it up. “f-faster daddy…p-please…” you whine out to her.
abby looks back down to what was below her, that same smirk growing onto her freckled face once again. “would you look at that, she’s already so eager for more…” she murmurs to herself, tightening her grip onto your hips as she began to thrust into you faster than before.
“oh f-f-fuck—“ you moan out, turning your head back to see her and watching her smirk get bigger again as she admires your drunk, fucked out expression. “don’t look at me now…” she tells you before pointing at her phone. “look at the camera. look at him. tell him how good i’m fucking you.”
despite how heavy your eyelids were getting, you try to keep your vision straight, looking into the camera for as long as you could. “s-s-she’s fucking me s-so good…b-better than y-you…” you slur out into the camera before letting your head drop back down into the sheets.
“you hear that? i’m a better fuck to her than you’ll ever be.” she narrates to the camera, still continuing her fast thrusts inside you. “can’t believe you’re letting a girl beat you at your own game, man.”
it didn’t take long for that feeling to build up inside you. abby had only been fucking you for less than five minutes, and you were already about to cum now.
“a-abby, fuck—g-gonna cum n-now…” you whimper out to her, bringing a trembling hand to hold hers from behind. abby instantly swats your hand away and brings her hand down to your ass to slap it, the sting causing you to flinch a bit. “that’s not my name, princess. you wanna try that again?” she asks you, still not stopping her fast pace.
“fuck, daddy!” you exclaimed, tightening your grip on the sheets to stabilize yourself. “p-please daddy…n-need to cum so bad…”
“there we go, that sounds better now…” she replies, looking back to the camera before back down at you. “go ahead, babygirl…cum for daddy.”
your grip gets even tighter on the sheets, and your cunt begins to clench down hard on the strap before cumming with a loud muffled moan, completely coating abby’s black strap with your release.
“holy fuck…” abby groans out from behind, now slowing down her pace. without pulling out just yet, she leans over to grab her phone, stopping the video and flipping the camera to the back to record a new one. “would you look at that…” she murmurs, zooming in on your lower body, particularly on the white ring that was being formed on her strap.
she then points the camera to the very back of you where your pussy was before slowly pulling her strap out of your fucked out cunt. abby lets out another groan as she watches your pussy clench and spill out your thick release, quickly running two of her fingers over it to pick it up. you whimper and whine due to the sensitivity from her thick fingertips, but you still oblige and let her do it.
“look how fucking good this pussy looks…” abby murmurs to the camera. “you know, i heard her tell me that you refuse to eat her out…” she says, pausing for a moment to suck her fingers clean before continuing. “you’re definitely a fucking idiot, to say the least. who wouldn’t want to get a taste of this sweet girl?”
you hear abby stop the recording on her phone, letting out a breath of relief as you set the rest of your body back down onto the bed. you’re already fucked out as is, and you feel the slumber slowly starting to take over you.
however, you didn’t get to have much of it now that abby has shaken you awake again. “lie back on the bed, i’m not done with you just yet.”
“w-what?” you say weakly, fully blinking your eyes open. “i-isn’t that one enough already?” you ask, pointing to her phone.
abby shakes her head in response. “nope, we still have one more video to make…and you’re holding the camera this time.”
˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ ˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ ˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ ˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆。˚
you take the phone into your shaky hands, almost dropping it in the process before steadying it, abby's eyes practically burning through the camera lens as you angle your phone to film her between your legs, she slaps her hand against your folds and you whine out her name, "keep it fuckin’ steady, you hear me?"
your grip tightens on the phone and you try to keep it as steady as possible as she connects her warm mouth onto your clit, flicking her tongue up and down it a couple times, before drawing back and looking into the camera. "you see what you're missing out on, huh?" she tsks and shakes her head slightly. you draw your bottom lip between your teeth as she sinks back between your legs.
she presses her tongue to your sensitive folds as she messily kisses and licks at your pussy, groaning as she tastes you. her fingertips find your clit, rubbing circles over it as she slurps up your juices. the phone starts to slip from your grasp and abby shakes her head mockingly, slapping her hand straight down onto your pussy, fingertips smacking at your clit cruelly. "i'm not telling you again, keep that camera on me or imma keep slapping this pussy." she drawls, voice low and demanding as her gaze shifts from the camera lens to look straight into your half-lidded eyes. her stern tone has you nodding your head immediately in fear of another sharp slap.
her fingers start to slide into your entrance, slick squelching around them as she thrusts them in and out. her lips move up to suck at your swollen clit, with more purpose this time around as she feels you clenching around her fingers. "lemme hear you baby. c'mon, let it out. let him hear how good i'm making you feel." she whispers, thrusting her fingers in and out faster. she lifts her head and smirks up at you, clearly waiting for you to cum for her.
your back arches up into her and her free hand slides between your legs, roughly rubbing your wet folds as her tongue flutters over your clit, bringing you over the edge. your thighs tremble as they clamp around her blonde head which gives her no other option than to keep her head buried between your legs, sucking on your clit as you ride out your high and start to cum on her face.
her fingers continue to plunge in and out of you at practically record speed, fingertips curling against every inch of your g-spot and without warning, a stream of juices spurts from your pussy to soak her fingers and her face. she slides her fingers from your entrance, holding them up for you to see that they're covered in your juices, glistening in the light.
"look at the mess you made." she chuckles as she looks up and notices the look of absolute shock on your face as you realise what just happened.
"never done that before, huh?" she raises an eyebrow. "nuh uh." you pant out, feeling the need to pinch yourself as there is absolutely no way in hell she just made you squirt. "he's never made me do that....like ever." you giggle.
your head is still reeling as she lays you comfortably up against the pillows before she quickly fetches a washcloth from the en-suite bathroom. she returns less than a minute later, warm washcloth in hand, and starts to clean you up between your legs doting to your every need and want so soothingly, kissing at your thighs and stomach sporadically whilst doing so.
she eventually lends you one of her t-shirts to wear, gently holding your arms above your head, the soft material grazing against your skin. she climbs into bed beside you, the two of you bundled up under the thick sheets, snuggled up into her arms as your scroll through the footage taken on your phone. abby rubs her hand up your spine softly before pulling you tightly against her as she smirks at you, "gimme his number, i wanna send the footage to him."
you giggle and hand her your phone as she quickly copies down his phone number from your contacts into her own with a couple taps of her screen before opening up a text conversation with the new contact. she attaches the videos and starts to type out a message which reads:
"took care of your girl for you tonight...looks like she likes me better, don't you think?"
you shake your head and give her a little amused smile as you see the sheer look of smugness filling her flushed face, "that'll fuckin’ teach him." before pressing send and placing her phone face down on the bed in front of you.
it’s safe to say that thanks to abby’s bright idea, you were successfully able to give your boyfriend the vengeance that he deserved after all. as abby pulls you in closer to her chest, you get the feeling that this won’t be the last time you’ll do this with her.
and by the looks of it, you’ve found a new habit of your own to enjoy too.
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2024 © atomicami & whore4abby | all rights reserved. do not copy, modify, or translate any of our works.
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gay-dorito-dust · 3 months
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Just Jason being the human version of a house cat.
Someone on here said that Jason is just a massive lap cat and I can’t help but agree because just imagine it; an absolute beast of a man finding solace in resting specifically on your plush lap, his strong, warm arms caging your waist as his face is burrowed pleasantly into your stomach in content, groans in displeasure whenever he feels you move even the slightest of inches.
How dare you move when Jason was just getting comfortable, apologise now for your transgressions.
Jason’s warmth would be advantageous to you during the colder months but an absolute nightmare during the summer, more so if you’re the type to get warm really easily and it ends up irritating you. But this is neither here nor there.
‘Jaybirdie?’ You ran your hand through his hair, scratching his scalp now and then.
Jason groans, showing that he was listening.
‘I’ve got to get going soon or else they’ll call and ask why I’m late.’ You tell him as you felt his arms tighten and you smile. ‘And I can’t exactly say that my 6’2 boyfriend is sprawled across my lap like a stubborn house cat that is refusing me to leave. Now can I?’ You finished, moving your hand away from his hair and focusing on rubbing his upper back, wishing you could see his muscles beneath the black t-shirt. You could only being to imagine the way his beautiful muscles would contract and relax from your touch as though they were like the waves you’d see at the beach, webbing and flowing; it was borderline enticing.
‘Then don’t go then. Simple as.’ His muffled voice said against your stomach.
‘I can’t, I promise to help out at work because someone called in sick…again.’ You muttered out the last part. You didn’t know why your co-worker wasn’t sacked for having so much time off but you knew you weren’t the only one that didn’t like them, and from what you’ve been told by older co-workers, this wasn’t the first time they’ve done this and even then you were surprised that they still even had a job to come back to. So because of them, you and your fellow co-workers were being worked to the bone to cover their hours on top of your own.
‘Again?’ Jason asked, lifting his head up from your lap, having been kept up to date on the goings on in your workplace. ‘How haven’t they gotten pulled in for that shit?’
You shrugged your shoulders, genuinely as baffled as he was about the whole thing. ‘Honestly have got the slightest clue Jay, but It’s all the more reason for me to go.’
Jason groans as he reluctantly lets you go but now you were the one upset at the sudden loss of his warmth and that must’ve been apparent on your face as Jason smirked mischievously as he reassumed his position on your lap, his strong arms went back to holding your waist tightly and his face burrows back into your stomach as he sighs in content once more.
‘See, now you don’t wanna go now because your Jaybirdie won’t be there to keep you warm.’ He teased as you tugged at his hair, causing him to groan.
‘That’s not-‘
‘Oh don’t play the coy card with me sweetheart, we’ve already been through that stage in our relationship.’ Jason cuts you off. ‘because if you wanted to leave that badly you wouldn’t be rubbing my back or running your hand through my hair like you are right now.’ Jason then looks up at you with a raised brow as if challenging you in daring to say otherwise when you both knew the truth.
‘It’s just- we don’t typically get enough time together.’ You began. ‘Crime in Gotham has been on an increase as of late, which is taking much of your time, and work has been asking everyone to pitch in and help cover until our co-worker decided to comes back at their own accord.’ You paused to stroke Jason’s cheek, internally melting when you felt him press his face further into your hand, gingerly kissing your palm. ‘It just doesn’t give us enough time for moments like these, the moments we crave most.’
‘The moments where we’re just together.’ Jason finishes for you and you muttered a small ‘yeah.’
A silence befalls you both as you tried to engrain this moment into your memory because neither of you knew when the next time you got to peacefully exist in tandem, whether that be doing your own thing or doing something together, just as long as you were with each other for longer then a fleeting five minutes.
‘So do you still want to go to work?’ Jason asked. ‘Or do you want to be selfish for once?’
You gave it some thought and soon after began to reach for your phone and punch in the work number as Jason squeezed a thigh in his large hand. ‘Selfish it is.’ He murmured with a smile as he gotten himself comfortable before feeling you run your fingers through his hair once more.
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strawberrysturniolo · 4 months
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fic reqqq
can you pretty pretty please write a fluffy kind of sleep aid fic w chris where yall cuddle in bed tgth and u start snoozing and he tucks u in and everything🫶 np if not your writing is actually so bomb like everytime i see a new post from u i start foaming @ the mouth like a rabid dog and gnawing on my enclosure 😭
sleepy // bf!chris
soft chris
summary: you spend the day filming with your boyfriend and his brothers and can't wait to go home and snuggle in bed with him.
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The entirety of my day has been spent following my boyfriend, Chris, and his brothers around while they film. 
We started our day by getting lunch at a local diner, did some shopping afterwards at a flea market, then finished the night off with a few rounds at Top Golf.
“Good job, babe!” I cheer my boyfriend on as he makes a perfect swing.
He turns around grinning before handing his club to his brother, Matt. “That was pretty good, right?!” He sits down next to me and tosses his arm around my shoulder. I tilt my head to the left so it lays perfectly on him, and he pulls me closer, kissing the top of my head. When his other brother, Nick, leaves the table to film Matt’s turn, Chris leans into me, whispering, “I really appreciate you coming out with us today.”
My exhaustion is evident. I thoroughly enjoy spending time with them on days where they are filming, and while I’m usually hidden somewhere off-camera to maintain privacy, it’s still fun to watch my boyfriend do something he loves, and interesting to see him at work. I have to say, walking around all day so they can get content in, and now sitting down watching them golf only reminds me of how tired I am. 
“Sleepy, baby?” he asks, nudging me lightly when he sees my eyes falling shut. 
“Mhm,” I hum into his shoulder. 
“I’m sorry. I know it’s been a long day.”
He uses his left hand to carefully push my hair out of my face, using his other hand to pull me closer to him, falling asleep right at the table. 
“Alright Chris,” Nick calls out. “It’s your turn, come on.”
I can feel Chris’ head turn a few times, looking between me and his brothers. “Can you go for me? I don’t really want to get up.”
I struggle to push myself up because of how tired I am, but I manage. “No, go play. We’re almost done anyway. I just need to stick it out until we get home and I’ll sleep well tonight.” 
“Are you sure?” 
I nod, not wanting to kill the mood for them. 
He delicately kisses my forehead before tossing his arms around his brothers, his energy back to 100% when the camera is on him.
One thing about Chris is, no matter how private he wants our relationship to be, he will always find a way to show some sort of PDA when we’re around people. Whether it’s holding my hand, putting an arm around me, having me wear his clothes. He may not fully makeout with me in a public setting, but he’ll still kiss my forehead and hold me in his arms so everyone can see how much he loves me without losing an element of our intimacy. 
The boys finish up their game, and when we head back to Matt’s car, he suggests we go to get a late breakfast tonight. I of course am mid-yawn when this comes up.
“Why don’t we head home?” Chris counters. “We already have a lot of footage from today, and if we need more we still have tomorrow.”
Matt groans, but when Nick sees me half-asleep in the backseat next to him, he sides with Chris. “He’s right. Let me work through this footage tonight and see if we need to go back out tomorrow before we end up with an hour long vlog that will take me an extra day to edit.”
I end up passing out asleep on the drive back despite it only being 15 minutes. I’m lightly shaken awake and greeted by my boyfriend’s hushed whisper. 
“Baby, let’s get you inside okay? We’re home and you can sleep in bed.” He unbuckles my seatbelt and carefully leads me out of the car and inside the house, guiding me downstairs with his arm around me. “Go change into your pajamas.”
I pull out a Fresh Love set from his closet and toss my clothes from today into the hamper while Chris is in the bathroom. He comes out with makeup wipes and pulls one from the package. 
“I can do that,” I say quietly. 
“No, I want to.” He flattens out the makeup wipe and gently rubs my face with it, checking it every few seconds to make sure the product is coming off on it. “You’ve had a long day and it’s partly my fault. Let me do this and then you can brush your teeth and wash your face.”
Another minute passes before Chris discards the now used makeup wipe into the trash. I then head into the bathroom and wash off any remaining makeup and brush my teeth, climbing into bed once I’m done. 
Chris follows me through all those steps, laying in bed next to me and smirking at my choice of pajamas. “I love when you wear these.” I have no energy left in me to speak. I simply nod and hope he can read my mind. His fingers trace my face as I doze off, slowly going in and out of my slumber. His arms wrap around me and pull me into him, and my face nuzzles into his chest. He uses one hand to push the covers into our bodies, tucking us in and keeping us warm while the ceiling fan balances the temperature out. 
He places one more kiss on my head as he rubs his hands over my back.
“I love you so much,” he whispers into my hair. 
I mumble a muffled, “I love you,” back to him before falling asleep for the night, the last thing I remember being him holding me tight and feeling the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. 
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