#fuck it we posting. reasonable hours? don't know her!
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my piece for the second edition of the annual Star Trek Swimsuit Special! <3
and some alternate versions because i couldn't pick:
#affectionately titled 'uhura and her bitches' by boost#nyota uhura#star trek#star trek tos#star trek the original series#uhura star trek#pinup art#sorry for no bush this year... i swear i wanted to draw more bush but this pose just called to me...#ill make it up to yall next time 🫡#my art#fuck it we posting. reasonable hours? don't know her!
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what the fuck??!
why is uni filled with so much drama?
i just want to study, work, exercise, figure out how to handle my finances and what to eat, sleep, write fanfiction that's never going to see the light of day, walk with nature surrounding me, be grumpy inside because the bus is over-crowded, take part in research, repeat.
why?
i can't do this.
i really hate drama. i have never been involved in it. ANY TIPS? 🤡🤦🏻♀️
#don't mind me#was just about to sleep because i have to run errands tomorrow#and this girl i posted about two weeks ago who i hanged out with today just.#seems to hate me??? for some reason#and i hate it#like i said before#i know when i fuck up#and i actually consider myself a quite mature persob#and she seems to genuinely enjoy herself today#and she laughed at my jokes and all that#so i thought we were friends again#and then i come home and i do some work#only to find a message from her an hour later#saying to not make fun of her#and now she is posting weird stuff on instagram???#what is happening#what is this#can't she just... talk to me? if any of this concerns me?#i am sorry#i am not playing the victim i just have been rejected by friends quite a few times because i was too quiet#and now that i finally talked and had feeling conversations (regarding her feelings i mean) and thought we were okay#someone is about to reject me again?#god.#my best friend still loves me so that's- quite selfishly- validating#and my other friend who is friends with this girl likes me too#and they are wonderful people#anyway#vent post#seriously don't mind me#i just cannot stop thinking
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˚₊‧ ᴡɪʟʟ ɪᴛ ʙᴇ ᴄᴀsᴜᴀʟ ɴᴏᴡ? ‧₊˚
♡ ft. geto, toji, gojo, higuruma, nanami
♡ total wc: 10.9k // nsfw minors dni! //
♡ contents: ౨ৎ 𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑢𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 ౨ৎ, afab reader she/her pronouns, no smut in gojos or tojis im sorry, emotionally stunted men kinda but they grow isnt that nice (not talking abt higuruma and nanami god no), the aftermath of fwb caught feelings, consolation, emotional aftercare ig, lotta domestic fluff for higuruma and nanami's!!!! (everyone say ty @noosayog for nanami's bc she is the only reason i wrote his)
♡ listen along: casual by chappell roan ♡
- ᡣ𐭩 time passes and people change, and just because you fell first doesn't mean you don't get a happy ending + bonus continuation of higuruma's and nanami's ᡣ𐭩 -
ᯓᡣ𐭩 ɢᴇᴛᴏ [ 3 ʏᴇᴀʀs ]
on the list of people that you thought you’d see tonight, geto isn’t even in the top 100, not because of probability or likelihood, but solely based on the fact that you have not thought about this man in years. if you were asked the question from your future self, “holy shit, guess who we saw tonight?” you would’ve listed old friends, distant relatives, exes, minor celebrities, other flings, teachers from high school, people from stories you’ve only heard of, and then geto.
after that night, you really didn’t see barely any of him. a few posts on your feed: one 2 weeks after and another 2 months after that one when you remembered that you forgot to unfollow him. once on campus: him across a million tables getting lunch with some girl too long after your little thing for you to care about who she was to him at all. once at a mutual (though you didn’t know was mutual at the time) friend’s party close to graduation: you ran into him grabbing a drink from the cooler and neither of you said a single word to each other, just exchanged a very knowing glance.
fast forward a handful of years, with geto not on your mind during a single one of them, and you’re stunned, nearly speechless, as you recognize him across the bar. the track of which your mind is racing takes you stop after stop to thoughts and feelings you didn’t really ask to experience. they follow a curving roadmap in your mind of: why is he here? ↝ wow, he looks great ↝ does he live nearby still? ↝ that’s weird ↝ no, it isn’t weird, i still live here ↝ then what are the fucking chances that he’s here ↝ no, seriously he looks so good
he looks different though, you realize about 3 minutes into sneaking glances in his direction, in some way that you just can’t put your finger on right now. in your slightly tipsy state, you barely stop to ask yourself how you even clocked that it was him so quickly, how there was no hesitance in the recognition or questioning in the placing. he looks really fucking good.
in fact, now that all of the obligatory thoughts have come to a heed, that’s really the only thing that you can think about. how good he looks.
the events that happened that ended your situationship all of those years ago are nothing but outlines now; whatever you said or he said just sounds like underwater conversations. you can see the way that you left and you remember being dumbfounded, but everything else has lost its sting, like a story you’d recall to a friend of a friend in a setting much like the one you’re in. time has handled the memory the way that time does and as a result, when the two of you finally make eye contact after what feels like an hour of missed mutual glances, you offer a small wave. a wave that says, “i remember only knowing you in past tense. we are such different people now, i wonder what it would’ve been like if we met now instead.”
the wave was the first step, technically, sure, but he makes the literal first step. he departs from the conversation he’s been enthralled with for as long as you’ve been stealing glances and he weaves between people in the middle of their own stories before ending up in front of you.
when he does, he asks, as if he’s just randomly bumped into you rather than intentionally coming over, “shit… is that you?” he puts his hand on the back of your chair, thumb brushing your shoulder.
the friend that you’re with cocks their head, furrows their eyebrows, has no idea who this is or their connection to you, the timelines of their interactions with you spaced too far apart for one to know the other. geto notices this look, addresses it. “we used to…,” he pauses, “see each other? for a little bit.”
you can’t help the laugh that bubbles up from your chest at the way he describes it. “yes, yes we did,” you nod. “back in college,” you explain a little further, “been a while.”
the interaction quiets, the two of you exchanging soft smiles instead of words, and your friend knows where this thing is going before either of you even do, so they bow their head, offer their seat to geto, and take their leave in the name of some bullshit excuse. he takes it without a second thought, asking you how you’ve been, laughing about the time that you saw each other at that party, and after an hour of just talking he says, “yeah, i actually thought about you the other day.”
you nearly choke on the drink he’s bought you. you rush to put it down. “you did?” you ask.
he nods. “i don’t even remember what prompted it. i think, maybe, i saw a photo of myself from college and how different i looked and how different i feel now and then just, out of nowhere, remembered how shitty i was to you.”
you don’t say anything in return, running your finger around the lip of your glass as you stare at him. you don’t know how to say that you don’t care anymore, that you haven’t thought of those days in years, that the surprise that you displayed a few seconds ago was completely genuine, because you were so convinced that neither of you had. it comes out something like a shrug and, “we were practically kids.”
he answers so quickly, “well, kids or not, i’m sorry.”
you laugh, gently so he won’t think you’re laughing at his apology. really, you’re laughing at the notion of apologizing for an act that no longer warrants forgiveness. you laugh at the thought of giving it anyways. you place your hand on top of his on the edge of the bar. “thank you,” you nod. he nods back.
when you let him take you back to his place for old times sake, you’re half-expecting the same person from the ghosts of memories from years ago, like all of the things he said at the bar were just a last ditch effort to usher the night in the exact direction that it’s heading in.
but he’s different now, just like he said he was before he apologized, and you can feel it in his movements and his actions. more confident, more intentional. he kisses you first and it doesn’t taste selfish. it doesn’t feel rushed to get to the main event. he savors it, holds your head in his hands, and doesn’t touch a single other inch of your body until he’s found the right combination of fingertip pressure and tongue that has you melting into his palm.
your mind flickers to the notion that these actions might be pre planned because they feel so meticulous and thought out, but that impression quickly dissolves when he sinks inside of you, slowly, keeping his eyes locked on yours as he does, his hand reaching down to cup your cheek, fingers nearly trembling against your jaw when he presses his hips completely against the insides of your thighs.
“shit,” he hisses, hands moving down to your waist, fingers light like feathers practically crawling against your skin, as if each print was so grateful it got to make contact with the softness below. when he grips into the fat of your hips, he’s careful, intentional or not, pressing his thumbs into the bone, but not letting his nails leave a single mark. it’s pressured, but comfortable.
he holds you in place, slowly pulling his hips back and he can’t help but look down between your legs, watching himself disappear inside of you, a creamy mess at the base, shallow breaths recycled in his chest.
“hey,” you say, eyes locked on the tenseness of his jaw and the way that he stops himself with sharp inhales. he finds your gaze in a second. “don’t hold out on me here.” you rest your arm on his bicep, fingers curling around wherever they can reach.
you can feel it under your palm, his muscle tensing as his pace picks up, rhythm consistent, but unrelenting. the breaths come out of you quickly and you’re unable to hold any sort of facade. “ah- shit, f-fuck,” you cry, “holy shit.” you squeeze your eyes shut, swallowing harshly as strangled noises leave you without vetting a single one.
“n-no,” you shake your head, regretting it instantly as he slows down in response. you shake your head harder, “no, don’t stop, but- ah,” you groan, “your- you were- i meant,” you exhale a laugh, “let me hear you.”
his eyes widen slightly as he processes what you want from him, and then he listens. he leans down to kiss your lips and then your cheek and then your jaw and then your ear. yes, he’s fucking you better than you’ve ever been fucked in your entire life, but that’s not what makes you crumble. no, it’s his grunts and pants and breathy groans pressed right up against your skin.
you thread your fingers into his hair, twirling the ends of the locks between the tips, raking your nails down the base of his neck to the front, and then smoothing them down his chest. “more,” you mumble against him, and you’re not sure exactly what you mean, but he gives it to you, whatever it is. you’re certain he’d give you anything in the world right now if you just asked for it.
there’s a moment after when you’re lying there with him, shoulder pressed up against his, chest heaving, barely recovered, that you find yourself back in that college dorm. you don’t know why the tightness is rising in the hollow below your sternum, but it is. you remind yourself that you weren’t expecting anything from this anyway, so it doesn’t matter, but it does. you’re not sure if you just don’t want to be treated like that again or if it has something to do with geto being the one lying beside you.
when you turn your head to face him, he’s already looking at you. he doesn’t shy away in embarrassment, like it’s wrong that he’d be gazing at you after all of that. his features are steady, confident, strong. he smiles softly, brings his hand up to cup your cheek. “should we get breakfast in the morning?”
in the morning, you repeat in your head. you wait a beat, trying to come up with something to say, to proceed with caution or to discern his intentions or to at least not sound desperate, but all that comes out is, “in the morning?”
he nods, turning on his side so he can stare at you without his neck getting sore. he inches closer to you, kissing the top of your shoulder and then your temple. he drapes his arm over your stomach. “if that’s okay with you,” he says and then kisses you again.
“okay,” you nod back, lazy smile on your lips, eyelids heavy at the warmth surrounding you now as he pulls you closer to him. “yeah, sure,” you affirm, voice so soft and airy that the tightness in your chest is lifted away with the words, all that’s left is a hope you feel comfortable letting stick around.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᴛᴏᴊɪ [ 3 ᴍᴏɴᴛʜs ]
you are not expecting anyone. you have resigned yourself to a nice pair of pajamas and comfy socks and a warm cup of tea and a spot in the living room that you will only leave for a refill and bathroom breaks. you are tucked into the corner of your couch, back pressed up against the sturdy arm, legs crossed, and a throw blanket over your lap.
you are not expecting anyone, so the sound at the door should have felt a lot more jarring. well, it is jarring for a second, a few seconds actually, the echoing disruption bouncing off of the walls of your living room and back to you, but then the noises repeat themselves, like they’re on a looping track, and you realize that-
you know that knock. heavy-handed with a tight fist, back of the knuckles, not the tops. almost pittering out by the end of the three successions, like the first one is direct and assured, but the second and third don’t really bother keeping up. that knock almost makes you run to the door. if it were 3 months ago, you’d be skipping to the door.
but you hesitate for a few reasons. firstly because when the connection hits that you know that knock very well, you remind yourself to proceed with caution. secondly because it sounds the same but with a difference as small as a hairline fracture. you heard that knock far too many times during the span of a year and a half, and this one sounds almost completely identical, but there’s a half second pause between the first knock and the second knock and the raps feel less impatient.
you don’t have to look through the peephole to know who’s standing on the other side of the door, but you’re glad you do anyway. if for nothing else, it gives you a slight edge, you’re convinced, like you’ve seen him first, you have the upperhand now. at least, that’s what you tell yourself.
toji hadn’t contacted you since he left that day. no texts. no calls. no showing up at your apartment at 3 am. nothing. you kept telling yourself that you’d hear from him. when that didn’t happen, you started telling yourself that you didn’t care if you heard from him. you’ve actually been waiting for this moment, replaying what it would look like if he came back, the things you’d say to him and how you’d say them.
now, looking out at him just standing there, you’re frozen. every scenario you’ve replayed in your head, all of the emotional venting and blow out screaming that you’ve rehearsed and you can’t recall a single scene. you think about leaving him out there, about telling him to go away through the door or just pretending like you’re not home.
“i can see the shadow of your feet under the door,” toji calls out, muffled by the barrier between you guys, and yet it still rings out through your entire body.
you slowly open the door. though, even if it took an entire hour to open the door, you’re not sure it would’ve mattered. you don’t think time is something that could’ve prepared you for seeing him. seeing him didn’t even prepare you for seeing him. you don’t know what to say, so you don’t say anything, folding your arms over your chest. you just wait.
“i-,” he starts, but then immediately stops, half sighs/half scoffs as he leans his chest forward, eyes scanning the inside of your apartment, for what exactly you’re not sure.
“what, toji?” you ask, voice stronger- and more annoyed- than you anticipate it being. you’re grateful for that. “why are you here?”
“shit, this is already hard enough for me t-,” he says, shaking his head, corner of his mouth tugging upward in frustration.
you narrow your eyes, cutting him off, “sorry, this is hard for you?” you feel like laughing or strangling him more than you do crying, which is a desired outcome in this situation, you suppose. “you know that you haven’t talked to me in three months, right? you haven’t talked to me?” you ask, and you can feel your pulse in your wrist and your chest now, because the lines are coming back to you slowly, one by one, circling your brain, fueling your confidence.
“yeah, no, of course i know that,” he combats, like you’re the one that’s being an asshole right now.
you smooth your fingertips against your eyes, blocking the sight of him out for just a second before gesturing with your hand as you ask, “are you going to answer my question or…?”
“look, i said that this is hard enough as it is for me to just be here,” he snaps, and if you were a little less annoyed, if he hadn’t come at this whole thing exactly how he was, you might’ve clocked the desperation in his voice or the uncertainty in his pupils.
“do you know how fucking stupid you sound right now?” you ask. it’s a rhetorical question.
one week after he left, you were certain he was going to come back. you and toji had gone a week without seeing each other or even speaking. you had even gone two weeks. sure, the conversation felt much more serious and, sure, really deep down you knew this time was different, but still, you held out dumb hope.
one month after he left and you realized this was not just him being weird and distant. this was something brand new that you had never had to deal with before. you were still trying to figure out how to navigate it when the two month realization hit: that maybe he wasn’t coming back at all, ever, maybe you had done something wrong. if he had shown back up on your doorstep during that time this conversation would’ve gone very differently you think.
but he didn’t. he showed up at month three when your reaction to random memories of toji were no longer tears and guilt, but laughter and bitterness. there weren’t many things that toji could say right now that would warrant anything more than you standing in your doorway for 4 minutes or less.
“i-,” he starts, but then sighs. he looks left, down the hallway of your building, eyes shifting from object to object out of your view.
“please don’t waste anymore of my time,” you reply and it’s softer than you intend. you thought it’d come out angrier. that seems like a theme for you tonight: everything sounding different in your head. when he doesn’t reply, you start a countdown, promising yourself that when you make it to 15, you’ll close the door in his face. you only make it to 13.
“i’m not here to waste your time,” he says, with no air of disgust or annoyance, the first halfway decent thing he’s said to you tonight. “i-,” he huffs again, “i’m here to say sorry. and-,” he hesitates.
you wait, just listening. the longer that he hesitates, the more time you have to think about what he might say and how you’re standing with your door open for the entire floor to hear your conversation. you’re not sure what’s worse, having this conversation in the confines of familiar grounds or the openness of neutrality.
“and ask… are you already seeing someone else?” he finishes.
you’re dumbfounded, blinking at him slowly before responding in the only way you can think of right now, “goodnight, toji.” you shake your head, cursing yourself for expecting anything more.
“no,” he rushes to say and then stumbles over the rest, “i- i tried to see somebody else, quite a bit of other people actually…”
you scoff, squinting at him, saying more sternly this time, with an added attestation of closing the door in his face, “goodnight, toji.”
he reaches out with a quick reflex, grabbing the door before you’ve barely even moved it. “wait, no, i- fuck,” he mutters, scrambling, “can i just come in?”
“so that was your plan then?” you drop your hand from the door. “to come back here unannounced, be shitty to me, ask if i’m sleeping with anyone, tell me that you’ve slept with lots of people, and then ask if you can come inside?” you ask.
“i didn’t have a plan-,” he replies.
“clearly,” you interject.
“but i’m trying,” he finishes, and you’re waiting for there to be more, to explain exactly how this constitutes as trying, because you don’t really see that here.
“fucking christ, toji, you’re going to have to try harder than whatever the fuck this is,” you sneer.
“we- we had a good thing,” he tries again. you don’t understand how every time he opens his mouth it gets worse and worse. why are you even entertaining this anymore?
“fuck you, man,” you scoff, and it feels like all of the anger has left your body, and in the void where it once was present is nothing but disinterest.
“no, not like that,” he backpedals. maybe if he would say more than four words at a time, or four better words at a time, then you wouldn’t have to keep filling in the blanks or being pissed off or- “for the last six months of our relationship, i didn’t sleep with anyone else,” he admits like it’s the answer to all of your problems. the word relationship burns at the forefront of your mind so hard that you don’t realize what he’s said for 10 whole seconds.
“i, so what?” your voice is unconvincing even to your own ears. you had slept with other people even 2 months before that last day. that wasn’t the issue. you guys were allowed to sleep with other people. you had an explicit conversation about the fact that you could sleep with other people, something along the lines of, hey, we can see other people right? yeah, we’re not fucking dating. okay, just checking.
the so what, you had already answered for yourself, inner voice replying to your own question, screaming, you guys were exclusive, unknowingly to each other, for 2 whole months before you confessed and he left.
his answer is much different. he says, “so nothing really. i just- i needed you to know that.”
“well, what the fuck do you want me to do with that?” you ask, and it comes out bitter and discouraged, but what you really mean is, please tell me what you want, please, can you just tell me that you missed me.
“whatever you want,” he answers instead.
you take a deep breath, a million emotions coursing through your veins and up your throat. “you know what?” you say, and it doesn’t sound angry, it sounds playful, “no, seriously,” you smile and then you laugh, “fuck you, toji.” you close your mouth like you’re done talking, like that’s all you needed to say, but your heart disagrees, forces more words out into the air no matter how hard your jaw is clenched shut.
“you show up here and you’re an asshole and then you’re decent and then you say shit like that and then- then i ask you what you fucking want from this, what you’re trying to play at here and you tell me whatever i want?” you say, exasperated.
“what i wanted was for you not to leave me three fucking months ago. that’s what i wanted,” you spit, “i wanted you to tell me this shit three fucking months ago before i sat alone, by myself, sad and then angry, and the entire time, fucking missing you, you fucking asshole. that’s what i wanted.”
and then it’s there, out in the open, airing for the two of you to witness and to face, and no matter what happens, you know you’ve done everything and said everything that you’ve needed to. he’s quiet for a few moments and you let him be, not tapping your foot or rolling your eyes or being pissed off, but just letting it play out. if this is the last time you ever see toji, why not just let it play out?
“okay,” he says, and it’s soft in a way you’ve only ever heard from him one time in your entire relationship. “i’m sorry.” he pauses. “i really don’t know how to do this,” he admits and you believe him. it feels different from when he told you something along those lines earlier, but you have a feeling that this is what he was trying to say all along.
“do what?” you push, because your mind is making assumptions, but if he’s going to prove anything to you, he needs to start now.
“ask for forgiveness?” he says, like he’s thinking out loud, “apologize? date someone?” you don’t say anything. you’re looking for something more concrete than that. it takes a handful of uncomfortable seconds before he says, “actually care about someone.”
“and do you?” you ask.
his lips press into a thin line, his eyes shift from left to right again. you can feel him getting antsy with the conversation and he’s barely said one vulnerable thing. you look at him, eyes soft and pleading, silently begging him that if he’s grown from this, you’ll let him back in, you swear, but you’ve been hurt before and you know what you’re worth, so you’re going to need some sort of evidence as collateral. “yeah,” he mumbles, but it’s audible. “you,” he says like it isn’t obvious, and it’s quiet and daunted, but you really appreciate the effort.
“okay,” you say, and that’s all you say.
“okay?” he questions, confused. “that’s it?”
“yup,” you say, but your small smile and the fact that you’re not slamming the door in his face again gives away a bit more than that.
“can i… come in?” he asks, hesitant, like he’s still being tested.
you shake your head, hand gripped onto the edge of the door. “no,” you say, scrunching up your nose and furrowing your eyebrows. “because if you come in here, we’re going to have sex,” you admit, half because it’s the truth and half just to see the look on his face. (it’s worth it.)
“wait,” he says, placing his palm flat against your door, but not moving it. his hand is now inside of your apartment, the only part of his body that’s made it past this invisible barrier of hallway and your place. “that sounds like a great thing. why am i not allowed in?”
“because this is me having self-control,” you explain, placing a hand on his shoulder and pushing the small portion of him that’s crossed the division back into the hallway. when you feel his skin against your pinky, soft fabric of that familiar shirt underneath your palm, you almost make a fool of yourself right after you say the word self-control, but you remind yourself what’s at stake here, what you really want.
“i came all the way out here to see you-,” he starts, but he doesn’t make a move to replace his hand on your door, letting his arm fall back to his side. it’s for the better, too, because you’re not sure how much more self-control you have already, no matter how much you tell yourself about longevity and whatever.
“if you really care,” you interrupt him, using his few vulnerable words against him, “and you weren't just trying to sleep with me tonight,” you pause, letting those words sink in, “you will go home and you will call me tomorrow morning and we will get breakfast- the least sexy meal of them all- and then maybe coffee if i enjoy hanging out with you outside of just having sex with you, and then we will go from there.”
“i-,” he starts to protest, but you cock your head. the truth is, if he said another word, reached out and touched your cheek or your hip or really anywhere on your body, if he kissed you, or just walked inside of your apartment and sat down on your couch, you wouldn’t have stopped him. you might even have gotten breakfast with him anyways. he doesn’t know that, you don’t think, but even if he does, he doesn’t act on it. he bows his head slightly, conceding, and says, “okay. i will just… talk to you… tomorrow… then.”
you nod. “goodnight, toji,” you say, hand on the door, closing it as slowly as you opened it.
“uh, yea, night,” he says back. you won’t tell anyone, and neither will he, about the stupidest small smile you see on his lips as he leaves your apartment that night or the fact that he wakes up extra early the next morning, muttering under his breath about how ridiculous dating is before he calls you at 9:30 on the dot.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 ɢᴏᴊᴏ [ 3 ᴡᴇᴇᴋs ]
being away from ɢᴏᴊᴏ feels like detoxing. not from like hard drugs or alcohol, but… coffee.
like you know it’s not necessarily good for you, drinking it every day, but it’s a habit you’ve had for a while now and you just can’t seem to break it. it’s not really hurting anything in your day-to-day and you’ve been doing it for so long that it’s probably fine to just keep doing it.
but out of nowhere it hits you that maybe drinking coffee as much as you do is a waste of money and even if you don’t feel the negative effects constantly in your daily routine, you remind yourself of the times where you could distinctly feel the thump of your heart and the unsteady of your hands. you recall the time that you stayed up all night for the promise of a cup of coffee to get you through the day. in every memory that you’ve ever had in your entire college career, you’re holding a cup of coffee.
so one day you make the choice to stop. you stop buying coffee from coffee shops and pods for your coffee maker and cups from diners and accepting free ones from friends. you don’t really need a good cup of coffee as badly as you think you do. and it’s stupid, you think, because it’s just coffee. it doesn’t mean anything. just because you’ve been drinking it consistently for quite awhile doesn’t mean it has any sort of hold over you. it’s just coffee.
but then the headaches come and the irritation sets in and nights are hard, but for some reason mornings are unbearable, and you feel antsy all the time and you haven’t left your room in the past three days and the only thing you want is a cup of fucking coffee and you can’t relapse with coffee; it’s fucking coffee.
yeah, being away from gojo feels a lot like detoxing from coffee.
you try to just not see him. it’ll be easier for you if you just don’t see him, you tell yourself. you go out of your way to avoid his walking path on campus and you refuse to leave your dorm when you don’t absolutely need to in fear of bumping into him or worse, just seeing him from afar, and god forbid you even come within three streets of the corner where his apartment resides. you block his number and you delete social media off of your phone for the time being, too many mutual friends to make casualties, and you do not let yourself think about him. not falling asleep, not when you wake up, not while you’re doing homework, not in your dreams or in the shower, not when something reminds you of him, not when you see his favorite show on your recently watched, not when you really need a good cup of coffee.
and it works for a while.
but not forever.
three weeks into your detox and you’re doing such a good job at not thinking about gojo that you mix up his monday schedule with his tuesday schedule and on your way back to your dorm, you see him. if you keep walking at the same pace that you’re walking, you will collide with him. if neither of you do anything, one of you will get hurt.
you look down at your phone, hoping, in the forefront of your mind, that he didn’t see it was you. (in the back of your mind, you’re hoping that he’s the one to break the longest bout of silence the two of you have had since you met.) when you sneak a glance, he’s already almost reached you, jogging to catch up with you. “hey,” he calls out, just in case you haven’t seen him.
“hi,” you say, stopping in place and letting him approach you.
“i’ve been trying to get ahold of you,” he offers, like you wouldn’t have known that.
“oh, sorry, haven’t been on my phone,” you lie. he knows that you’re lying. he can tell that you’re lying, so you don’t really know why you lie in the first place. maybe to prove a point. maybe to make him feel bad.
“look, about…,” he trails off, trying to remember how long he’s been without you, “about that… day…,” he opts for instead.
you put your hand up, waving the topic off. you mean to say something like, don’t worry about it, see you later, but it comes out like, “we don’t have to talk about that here.” here. fucking here. if you would’ve left those four letters out, it would’ve been a perfect line to walk away with, but you don’t. your stupid coffee-craving brain tacks it on, hopeful.
“right,” he says, nodding, “should we get coffee maybe, then, or?”
it’s not out of the ordinary, or it didn’t used to be, but now it feels taboo. you want to snap and ask him if he’s sure, because coffee sounds a bit too much like a date for people that aren’t together, but you realize very quickly that the irritation from your coffee detox is maybe a little bit too much to hold in without any closure. “sure,” you agree, “i just got done with class so we cou-.”
“i know,” he says, because three weeks hasn’t erased your schedule from his brain either.
you order an iced tea. you’re still convinced you’re done with coffee for good. he looks surprised at your choice, like he’s never seen you order an iced tea before, because he hasn’t, but he doesn’t say anything. you sip on it throughout unpleasant pleasantries and it’s refreshing, but it’s lacking something. in fact, the longer that you drink this stupid drink that has caffeine anyways and isn’t as good, the irritation bubbles higher and higher until- “can i start?” you ask, tapping your fingers against the table in rhythmic succession.
“yeah, sure,” he says, bringing his coffee to his lips and taking a sip.
“if at any point in this conversation your answer to anything i have to say is that we weren’t together, i don’t think we should have this conversation,” you reason, and you mean it, but his reaction takes you aback. you notice the smallest flinch when you say weren’t.
“i wasn’t-,” he shakes his head, sighing, “no, i wasn’t going to say that.”
“okay,” you say, dragging your fingertips along the condensation on the side of your glass. “then what were you going to say?”
he thinks for a minute, like he didn’t assume that he’d get this far when he brought up the idea of coffee. “i wanted to stop you from leaving,” he says.
“but you didn’t,” you rebuttal.
“i didn’t,” he affirms. it’s quiet again. you can hear the scrape of the cups against the table as they’re picked up, drank from, and put back down. the chatter in the coffee shop drones over the sounds of hesitance and nerves. “i’m sorry,” he says after a while.
“so, do you think we were together?” you ask, “and be honest. i’ll know if you lie.” you search his face as he answers, and the only thing that comes up is another flinch when you talk in past tense again.
“yeah,” he says, honest. “being apart from you these past three weeks has been one of the shittiest things i’ve ever been through.”
“ever?” you ask, quirking your eyebrow, as if it isn’t somewhat true for you too.
he nods in response, continuing, “it’s been hard.” he pauses. “i’m sorry i was so shitty.”
“pretty shitty, yeah,” you agree, but you can’t hide how nice it feels to just talk with him again, to call him shitty and to sit across from him at a coffee shop table. “i’m sorry i ghosted you these past few weeks,” because it deserves to be said too.
“i really missed you,” he says, and he doesn’t hide from it. he looks you directly in your eyes and you can tell that he wants to reach across the table and hold your hand. you want that too.
“me or just, like, sleeping with me?” you ask, somewhat terrified of the answer, scanning his face for the truth once again.
he laughs softly and, try as you might, you can’t stop the fluttering in your stomach or the warmth in your cheeks hearing that for the first time in too long. “please, i haven’t thought about sleeping with you once,” he jokes.
“oh, no? not at all?” you ask, scoffing lightly, a tiny smirk threatening to break.
he forces a thoughtful frown, shakes his head dramatically and says, “can’t say that i have.” you’re laughing now, but through smile-squinted eyes you can still tell that he’s actually being genuine. “not really,” he says.
“so just me then?” you ask to make sure.
“just you,” he affirms. “a lot of just you.” you hum, content with his answer, but he gives you even more than thought he ever could, “i don’t want to just go back to the way things were. i don’t think that’s enough for me anymore.”
even though you’re sure a response like this would’ve sent waves of shock through your entire body, it doesn’t. it just feels right. you reply quickly, “good. i don’t think it’s enough for me either.” you reach across the table. the back of your hand brushes against his, and then past it. you wrap your fingers around the handle of his coffee cup and bring it to your lips.
he doesn’t protest or snatch it away from you or make a snarky comment. he places his chin in the palm of his hand, elbow against the surface of the table, and smiles at you. you take a sip from his mug, warmth spreading through every bit of your body.
why would you deprive yourself of coffee when it brings you so much comfort?
ᯓᡣ𐭩 ʙᴏɴᴜs! ʜɪɢᴜʀᴜᴍᴀ [ ɴ/ᴀ ]
you’re not exactly sure how many times something has to happen before it becomes a theme.
ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅
“do you -huff- want to -huff- have kids someday?” higuruma asks from beneath you, palms resting on the tops of your knees, thumbs massaging up to the insides of your thighs.
you slow your bounces and then you stop them completely. you blink at him once and then twice. “that is a really wild thing to ask while you’re inside of someone,” you scoff, searching his face for any kind of tone indicator. is he being serious? is he just saying something to get a rise out of you? is this a kink thing?
he smirks, placing his hands on your hips, coaxing you to continue your movements, and you do. you lift yourself off of him, slowly at first, but then picking up speed as you chase the feeling you lost when he asked the question. you’re breathless when he asks again, the repeated question no longer stilling you. the second time around it feels almost normal. “do you?” he asks on his exhale.
you shake your head and then tilt it side to side, closing your eyes so all of the conflicting fast paced movements don’t dizzy you. “i- don’t- know-,” you huff, “maybe- conversation- for- a- different- setting.” each word is punctuated by the slap of your thighs against his hips. he nods, completely okay with that answer, and then just drops it.
ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅
“shit,” you say in realization, hips circling, fingers combing through his hair. you pull your head away from his shoulder, pushing yourself up to look him in the eyes. “wait, how did your meeting go today?” you ask, and this time neither of you miss a beat.
when he slows to think about it, you pick up his slack, rolling your hips, feeling the drag of him inside of you, a breathy moan floating up your chest. he answers over your noises, “really good actually.”
“everything as planned?” you ask further, genuinely just as invested in this as you are in the act.
he nods, smiling. “yeah, to a t,” he says, wrapping his arms around your lower back and pulling you against his chest. he kisses the side of your temple, holding you in place with a tight grip as he lifts his hips off of the bed, thrusting into you. “surprised you didn’t ask as soon as i came through the door.”
you shake your head against his shoulder, placing a soft kiss against his collarbone. “was thinking about it all day,” you explain. he fucks into you faster in response and it feels like a reward for caring about the things that are important to him. “but when- shit- when you got home…,” you grunt, “it completely- ah, fuck- completely slipped my- ah- mind, s-sorry.”
“ts alright, pretty.” he nudges his nose against your cheek, peeling your attention to his face. your cheek rests against his shoulder and you blink at him, focus dipping from the topic at hand as you feel that familiar tightening in your core. he can see it written all over your face, so he drops his head to kiss you, silently communicating that you don’t have to worry about finishing the conversation right now. he’ll bring it up again in a bit.
ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅
“should we get married?” he asks, back up against the headboard, looking you directly in your eyes, gaze following yours as you rise and fall.
“you are not proposing to me while i’m riding you,” you say, shaking your head, but you don’t still or slow. conversations like this in a setting like this just don’t phase you anymore. honestly, it wouldn’t surprise you if he did propose right now. you’re not even sure you’d say no.
the corner of his lip tugs upward and he exhales a laugh as he leans forward the smallest bit to kiss you. “i’m not, i’m not,” he assures, “why? would you say no?”
you’re quiet for a minute, not because you don’t know the answer, but to keep him on his toes. you won’t lie to him, you don’t think, but you don’t want to come right out and say it. his questions are rhetorical anyways, half-jokes that he’s not expecting serious answers to; you’ve known higuruma well enough and long enough to be confident of that. you could’ve replied with an eye roll and a scoff and nothing else and he would’ve dropped it. instead, however, you answer, “course not. i’d say yes in a second.”
he nearly comes inside of you right there.
ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅
maybe it becomes a theme when someone points it out.
you can’t tell if it’s intentional or not, the way that the two of you keep having these serious conversations during sex. you know that you don’t do it on purpose; things will just hit you during the repetitive motions and you worry you’ll forget them and you know that higuruma won’t judge you for just saying them, so you do. whether this is the case for him, you’re not sure.
but the interruptions just keep getting more casual. it starts with big conversations: weddings and promotions and thoughtful decisions, and then it’s like you just start remembering things in this position: work drama and mundane did you knows. it’s almost as if starting with big topics just made it seem so easy to talk about anything like this.
it didn’t help, you think, that it’s just always easy to talk about anything with higuruma. you guys have been together, officially together, for over four years now, and conversation, no matter the topic or severity or setting, is something you’ve never struggled with. you continue to not struggle with it, inside of the bedroom and out.
you’re not sure what about the position and the moment makes you so susceptible to remembering little things that you want to tell higuruma when he’s not around, and vice versa. in fact, you’re not even convinced that it’s something about the action that jogs your memory anyway, it’s probably just a really weird and common coincidence.
and then one night you can’t find your keys.
you’ve searched everywhere for them, in your car, in your bag, every nook of your room, the places where they normally are, higuruma’s coat pocket just in case, and then everywhere else in your guys’ apartment. they’re nowhere to be seen.
when higuruma walks through the front door, even from where you’re searching in the kitchen, you hear him let out an elongated, “woah.”
you pop your head into the doorway, “don’t say anything about the mess.” you can see his eyes resting on the overturned couch cushions and then on the various opened drawers. “hey,” you warn, pointing towards him as you walk quickly into the living room. you throw your arms around him tightly and give him a small greeting peck. it’s routine at this point; if you don’t do it your whole night feels off. “i said don’t say anything.”
he lets you hang off of his neck as he puts both hands up in surrender. “i didn’t say shit,” he says, pressing a kiss into the side of your neck, then moving his hands to your waist, “the fuck happened here though?” he laughs against your skin and you can feel the vibrations travel to your fingers and toes.
you pull away from him, shaking your head. now that you’re back in the living room, it’s like you have to start this room’s search over too. you start checking under the couch and in the hall closet. “lost my fucking keys,” you grumble, smoothing your palms over your face, “i swear i’ve looked everywhere. i just can’t remember where i left them when i got home.”
“did you check th-,” he asks, walking into the kitchen, grateful that you’re not in there with him or he knows you’d yell at him for the way his eyes go wide at the clutter and chaos everywhere.
you cut him off, “wherever you’re about to say, probably yes, ughhh. i’ve retraced my steps, i’ve looked in places that are fucking stupid to look in like every pair of shoes we own and in the fucking guest bedroom pillowcases. i’ve looked everywhere.”
from where he’s stood in the kitchen now, he can see you scrambling as you vent. he leans against the wall, “well, not everywhere or you would’ve found it by now.”
“i’ll kill you,” you say, eyes snapping up to meet his to show how serious you are.
he just laughs, “i’ve got a pretty good lawyer, you might not want to do that.”
“good legal can’t help you when you’re dead,” you snap, almost completely joking. he meets you back in the living room, helping you check all the places you’ve already checked.
15 minutes pass and then 35 and then he stops abruptly. “oh my god, i have an idea,” he says, and you look at him, hopeful. “you know when you usually remember things?”
your first reaction is joking annoyance, picking up a throw pillow and sending it his way. he catches it and sets it back down on the couch. “i’m serious!” he yell-laughs.
you throw another pillow at him as your second reaction sets in. “that’s not going to fucking work,” you say.
“how do you know?” he asks.
“because,” you say, trying to come up with a good answer other than just blind doubt, “because i don’t remember things while i’m riding you. it’s not a fucking superpower.”
“you don’t know that,” he jokes back and braces to be hit with another pillow. “okay, okay, but i’m being serious! besides, what’s the worst thing that can happen? you don’t remember and we’ve had sex, how horrible,” he reasons.
you let your arms fall, pillow in your hands resting against the tops of your thighs. you look at him, thinking, which, in hindsight, was a dumb thing to do, because higuruma can see the contemplation on your face.
eight minutes later and he’s inside of you and you’re the most embarrassed you’ve ever been.
“this is so stupid,” you mumble. you haven’t moved an inch after slowly lowering yourself onto him. you’re fully seated against his hips, hands smoothing over your face and then lingering there, covering.
he reaches up, fingers soft and kind as he wraps them around your wrists, pulling them away from your face. “ts not stupid,” he reassures, but you’re not convinced. you groan, turning to look away from him, but that just won’t do. he reaches up again, soft grip on your chin coaxing your gaze back to his. “hey,” he says softly, “just focus here, angel.”
you listen, somewhat, mind still flickering back to why you’re even riding him in the first place. “just enjoy yourself, okay,” he tries again, rolling his hips upwards, pressing himself inside of you as deep as he can. you close your eyes, and it’s quite easy to just focus on the feeling of being as full as you are right now. “good,” he whispers, “just like that.”
it doesn’t take long for you to lose yourself completely, moving on your own, letting the whimpers and whines take over any other thought you might think to say, chasing that feeling rather than worrying about whatever you’ve lost.
it all kinda clicks at once: where your keys are and why you always remember shit when you’re like this.
in the midst of everyday noise, so many things get lost: important and unimportant thoughts alike. but now you’re not worried about anything else. you don’t care about anything else right now. you don’t have to. you don’t want to. and in this state of letting everything go, mindless and blissful, some things slip back through the cracks.
you collapse onto higuruma’s chest, spent and happily aware of this new revelation that you have not, for once, shared in the middle of sex, but kept quiet as a come down surprise. you hum softly as he rubs up and down your back, hum again as he presses a kiss into your forehead. “m sorry it didn’t work, angel,” he murmurs.
you turn your head, ear pressed right against his heart as you gaze up at him. “i left them in the fridge,” you reveal, and he knits his eyebrows together.
you assume that he’s going to say something about how did you leave them in the fridge? or why are they there? but instead he questions, “what? and you didn’t tell me until now?” like you’ve harbored a life long secret. you laugh softly, snaking your hands up and scratching your nails against his scalp, playing with the ends of his hair. “don’t think this is going to get you out of it,” he says, “‘ts my favorite thing when you just blurt shit while you’re on me.”
you can feel the warmth in your cheeks and your chest as you breathe a laugh. “you’ve never told me that before,” you murmur.
“think it’s cute when you just can’t wait to tell me things,” he says, “feels more intimate than being inside of you.”
“ew,” you say, scrunching up your nose, even though you weirdly agree.
he just laughs in response. a few seconds of quiet comfort pass before he backtracks, “wait, why the fuck are your keys in the fridge?”
and you tell him all about it, about the day that you’ve had and how you remembered you hadn’t drank enough water so you were refilling your bottle from the pitcher in the fridge as soon as you got home from work, but your hands were full so you set your keys on top of the leftovers from yesterday, but then you had to go and set everything down and the fridge closed and by the time you left the kitchen you remembered you needed to do something else… and it just keeps going.
you tell him as you’re taking a shower and as you’re eating dinner together and as he’s brushing his teeth and you’re washing your face and laying in bed and setting your alarms. every room in the house is a mess, but you’ll deal with that later, you decide. you rest your chin on his shoulder. “and how was your day?” you ask, even though the clock reads much later than it should for how much sleep you both should get before you’re up early for work tomorrow.
nevermind that, he decides, and tells you all about it anyways.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 ʙᴏɴᴜs! ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ [ ɴ/ᴀ ]
“can i ask you something and when i ask you, you’ll know i don’t mean anything bad by it at all because i love you more than everything in the world?” you ask, putting down your phone only after you’ve finished your sentence.
you wait a few seconds for nanami to take in what you’ve asked. he reaches over to the night stand for his bookmark and sticks it between the pages. he shuts it with an audible shuffling of paper and a sharp thump.
nanami has been with you long enough to not typically be surprised by your out of the blue… questions. (dronings? is there a word like droning but the connotation is more positive? like you talk at him a lot and he loves to hear the ramblings in your brain, but sometimes he is just trying to read his book before bed. whatever that word is.)
he places the book on his lap and then turns his chest towards you completely. you now have his full attention. “is that a yes?” you ask.
he inhales deeply, “if i say no, will you still ask it?”
you think on the answer to that question, really mulling it over before shaking your head. “no, i don’t think so.”
“then yes,” he smirks, “i suppose i have to say yes then.”
“great,” you say, tossing your phone onto your bedside table with a clunk. you sit up straighter, rocking forward to fully adjust your position on your side of the bed. you put your hand on his thigh and cross your legs, letting your knee rest on the side of his comforter covered hip. “do you ever regret not dating more?”
it definitely takes him by surprise. he thought you might drop another weirdly specific hypothetical about would he love you if… or request a glass of water even though you already told him tonight when he was getting into bed and he asked if you wanted one, that you did not.
now he’s the one mulling over your question and despite how nerve wracking it could be to wait for an answer to a what if that involves not you, you’re not anxious in the slightest. you’re quiet, just waiting for his answer, and when he finally speaks, you know exactly why you weren’t scared in the first place, “i’ve honestly never thought about it since i met you.”
“really?” you ask, and you’re mostly feeling very lucky that nanami is yours and you are his, but there is an underlying feeling of guilt that he’s unintentionally caused with this statement.
he nods. “sounds like you have though,” he says, and it’s not even a little bit judgmental. it sounds like he’s imploring you to keep talking, like he wants to hear exactly what you’re thinking, why you brought it up in the first place.
“i wouldn’t trade this security, this love, exactly what we have, you for anything in the world,” you start to explain, and it’s nothing but the truth, “but sometimes i just think about that first night when we were in that bar. the flirting, the risks, that feeling of not knowing where the night is going to end up. sometimes i think about that a little bit.”
he hums, thinking about that night, and after a few seconds of silence, he speaks up again, “first date nerves,” he nods, “now that i think about it, i miss those.”
you cock your head at him. that’s a weird part of dating to miss, you think, but then he explains further, “like when we went out on our first date and i didn’t know what you were going to wear or if you liked the restaurant i picked or if you’d let me pay for your food.”
“or if i’d take you back to mine,” you joke, raising your eyebrows at him, but really you’re burning inside. your cheeks feel warm just hearing about these feelings he’s never mentioned to you before.
“yeah, that too,” he laughs, getting back on track, “like, i’m still finding out new things about you all the time, but back then i was discovering who you were every second we were together, and that- that felt like…”
“like finding out soulmates were real?” you ask, because that’s what it felt like to you, that same exact phenomenon he’s describing. he smiles at you warmly, like you’ve just put to words what he felt he could only experience. “i know what you mean,” you smile.
he leans forward, cupping your cheek with his hand and guiding you towards him. he kisses you softly, placing his other hand on your other cheek and kissing you harder. “should we go on a first date again?” he asks against your lips, barely pulling away to speak.
you laugh, but when you pull away, you can tell he’s not joking. “what?” you ask, “what do you mean?” you’re already blushing though, already feeling the exact first date nerves he was just talking about.
“let’s go on a first date,” he repeats himself. “i’ll pick you up at your front door and i’ll choose the restaurant and it’ll be a surprise and i’ll ask you questions that i’d ask you on a first date even if i know the answers to all of them and more at this point.”
you’re smiling so big that your cheeks are sore as you nod fervently at the concept. “okay, yeah,” you agree.
“right, so we probably shouldn’t kiss or make out or sleep with each other until then to really play into the whole thing?” he teases, and you roll your eyes in response.
“you’re very funny, kento,” you say, leaning in, brushing your nose against his. he doesn’t even last a second, closing the gap with a small peck and then another and then another and then a much longer one and then he’s putting the book on his nightstand so he can pull you into his lap.
ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅
you get a text 5 minutes before 7 that nanami is going to be 3 minutes late picking you up. the text looks a little weird underneath a thread of:
>> nami <3
>> how’s work baby
<< read
<< if you love me you’ll come and pull the fire alarm to get me out of here early :) :) :)
>> nami <3
>> fine but that’s a class four felony in some cases. will you be providing legal assistance or should i look elsewhere????
<< read
<< how do u know that?? nerd!!!
>> nami <3
>> google tbh.
<< read
<< wow. first i have to stay at work all day alone and sad and now i get to know my bf isn’t sexy and off the dome smart about everything. :(
>> nami <3
>> goodbye.
<< read
<< :(
>> nami <3
>> i love you
<< read
<< :)
you bite back the urge to reply with something you’d say to him after knowing him for years. rereading the text and thinking back to your first date, it makes you giggle. actually, it makes you kinda nervous. you text back a polite no worries! take your time! and he replies with a heart and you truly feel like you’re dating for the first time again. you feel honest to god giddy.
arriving to the restaurant, you are genuinely surprised. you thought after knowing him as long as you have and having gone to as many restaurants with him as you have, you’d go back to somewhere nice you’ve already been. but that isn’t the case.
he drives you to a pop-up restaurant 20 minutes out of town that you’ve never even heard of, but is the cutest place you’ve ever been, and the entire time he can’t stop sneaking respectful glances at you. he won’t stop telling you how nice you look. he even apologizes for it by the sixth time, pushing your chair in at the restaurant saying, “i know i keep mentioning it, and i’m sorry, but if i said it every time i thought it, it’d be a never ending string.”
if he keeps this up, you’re going to feel like you’re cheating. this seriously feels like a first date, like you’ve been in a relationship for over 5 years and you’re also going on a first date and it’s really messing with your head, but you never want it to stop.
he stays true to his word, asking you questions he already knows the answers to, but hearing them again, they sound brand new. he doesn’t know if he’s just forgotten some of them or if the testaments of time have weathered your answers just enough to sound unfamiliar, but either way, he’s hanging on to every word.
by the end of the night, you’ve truly convinced yourself that there are stakes to this date, like if you play your cards wrong, you won’t get to keep seeing this incredible guy. he pays the whole bill, even though you insist on getting your meal or at the very least dessert. he says, “you can try next time too.” and you can’t breathe, you feel so lucky.
“i’m sorry if this seems forward, but i’d really like to keep seeing you tonight,” you say as the waiter takes away the paid bill, and your heart is thumping so violently against your chest, you swear he can feel it too.
he shakes his head, “perfectly forward,” he smiles, “your place or mine?” you break character for the first time tonight, giggling at the reality of the question, hiding behind your hand as you do. “what’s so funny?” he asks, but he’s grinning just as big as you are.
“just thinking about how dreary my life would be if i hadn’t gone on this first date,” you say, and it’s a little too meta, but he’ll let it slide, because he’s a bit flustered at the sentiment. “mine is great,” you answer, placing your hand on his, rubbing the tips of your fingers against his knuckles.
everything about the rest of the night feels like a first too. it feels like your first kiss in front of your front door. it feels like he’s seeing “your” apartment for the first time. it feels like you’re making out on your couch for the first time.
it feels like the first time he’s ever been inside of you.
when he pushes deeper into you, eyes on yours shut tight, you tell yourself that you want to pretend you’re on a first date every single day of your life. you can’t stop whimpering, pleading for him to never stop fucking you ever, please don’t stop, please never fucking stop.
you break character for the second time when you’re right on the edge. he keeps looking down at you with so much love in his eyes and his hands all over you feel like they know every inch of you, and you can’t stop yourself. you grab his face in your hands, “kento, baby, please, ‘m gonna- ‘m sorry, i- fuck, please. i love you, fuck,” you whine, and he can’t stop himself either, hips stuttering, head falling against your shoulder as he feels you clenching around him as he empties himself inside of you, murmuring how much he loves you right back.
the way you’ve been feeling all night: blissful and coy, it’s not because it’s a first date, it’s because he’s nanami. it’s because he’s orchestrated the entire night and no matter how “new” everything feels, the underlying foundation of that newness, and the reason everything feels so good, is familiarity and safety.
“i’m sorry that i-,” you breathe, but he stops you, reaching his hand up to drag his fingertips against your lips, and you laugh, pressing a soft kiss into them. “okay, okay,” you say, and he places his hand back down by his side. “done with the first date stuff, just want to be yours again,” you murmur.
he scoffs, light, and you can hear his smile in it. he falls over onto his back, pulling you into his chest and kissing the top of your head. “never weren’t,” he mumbles against your hair. “always will be,” he mumbles again, holding you tighter.
“good,” you say back, settling into his arms like that’s the only thing you know to be true in the entire world. you wouldn’t trade that truth for a million first dates.
sure, holding your breath at quick witted flirts and stolen glances is nice, but it’s a lot nicer just knowing that you will never be loved better and you will never love harder.
♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡
no bc the yelling really worked very well idk yell at me more to write a continuation for toji (maybe also gojo bc hes the only one i havent written even an inkling of smut for) idk i'm just thinking of so many scenes idk throw hcs at me in my inbox IDK! toji dating for the first time? got me fucked UP
ᡣ𐭩 ᴛᴀɢs ᡣ𐭩
@igocrazyeveryday @vernasce-blogs @minty86 @abrielletargaryen @pompompompompompompom @mysticrays @lilolpotato @thisisew @pnkoo @optimisticsandwichgladiator @ryumurin @cisseadven @multi-fandom-fanfic @noosayog @anxious-chick @mintleafwrites @(tried to tag some other folks but couldnt!!)
#jjk x reader#jjk smut#toji x reader#gojo x reader#geto x reader#geto smut#toji smut#gojo smut#nanami x reader#nanami smut#higuruma x reader#higuruma x reader smut#higuruma smut#nanami x reader smut#jjk x reader smut#actually not really tbh theres no smut in tojis or gojos cant even lie#toriwritesshit
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I don’t usually talk about politics on here, if ever. But it’s been almost six months since the conflict in the Middle East flared up again, and I’m finally ready to start. Here are some of my thoughts.
I say ‘flared up’ because this has happened before and it’ll happen again. Because, even though what's currently going on is absolutely unprecedented, those of us who live in this part of the world are used to it. Let that sink in: we are used to this. And we shouldn’t have to be.
But I use that term for another reason: I don't want to accidentally call it the wrong thing lest I come under fire for being a genocidal maniac or a terrorist or a propaganda machine, etc., etc.—so let’s just call it ‘the war’ or ‘the conflict.’ Because that’s what it is. Doesn’t matter which side you’re on, who you love, or who you hate.
This post will, in all likelihood, sit in my drafts forever. If it does get posted, it certainly won’t be on my main, because I'm scared of being harassed (spoiler: she posted it on her main). I hate admitting that, but honestly? I’m fucking terrified.
I also feel like in order for anything I say on here (i.e. the hellscape of the internet) to be taken seriously, I have to somehow prove that a) I’m “educated” enough to talk about the conflict, and b) that my opinion lines up with what has been deemed the correct one. So, tedious and unnecessary though it is, I will tell you about my experience, because I have a feeling most of the people reading this post are not nearly as close to what’s happening as I am.
How do I explain where I live without actually explaining where I live? How do I say “I live in the Red Zone of international conflicts” without saying what I actually think? How do I convey the fear that grips me when I try to decide between saying “I live in Palestine” and “I live in Israel”? I don't really know. But I do know that names are important. I also know that, due to the various clickbaity monikers ascribed to the conflict, it would probably just be easier to point to a map.
I haven't always lived in the Middle East. I've lived in various places along America’s east coast, and traveled all over the world. But in short, I now live somewhere inside the crudely-drawn purple circle.
If you know anything about these borders you probably blanched a bit in sympathy, or maybe condolence. But in truth, it’s a shockingly normal existence. I don't feel like I've lived through the shifting of international relations or a war or anything. I just kind of feel like I did when COVID hit, that dull sameness as I wondered if this would be the only world-altering event to shape my life, or if there would be more.
I've been told that, in order for my brain to process all the horrific details of the past six months, there needs to be some element of cognitive dissonance—that falling into a sort of dissociative mindset is the only way to not go insane under the weight of it all. I think in some ways that’s true. I have been terrifyingly close to bus stop shootings when my commute wasn’t over; I have felt my apartment building shake with the reverberations of a missile strike; I have spent hours in underground shelters waiting for air raid sirens to stop.
But. I have also gone grocery shopping, and skipped class, and stayed up too late watching TV, and fed the cats on the street corner, and cried over a boy, and got myself AirPods just because, and taken out the trash, and done laundry on a delicate cycle, and bought overpriced lattes one too many days a week. I have looked at pretty things and taken out my phone because, despite it all, I still think that life is too short not to freeze the small moments.
So I'd say, all things considered, I live an incredibly privileged life—compared, of course, to those suffering in Gaza—one filled with sunsets and over-sweetened knafeh and every different color of sand. One that allows me to throw myself into a fandom-induced hyperfixation (or, alternatively, escape method) as I sit on the couch and crack open my laptop to write the next chapter of the fic I'm working on.
But there are bits of not-normalness that wheedle their way through the cracks. I pretend these moments are avoidable, even if they’re not.
They look like this: reading the news and seeing another idiotic, careless choice on Netanyahu’s part and groaning into my morning coffee. Watching Palestinian and Jewish children’s needless suffering posted on Instagram reels and feeling helpless. Opening my Tumblr DMs to find a message telling me to exterminate myself for reblogging a post that only seems like it’s about the war if you squint and tilt your head sideways.
These moments look like all the tiny ways I am reminded that I'm living in a post-October seventh world, where hearing a car backfire makes me jump out of my skin and the sound of a suitcase on pavement makes me look up at the sky and search for the war planes. They look like the heavy grief that is, and also isn’t, mine.
Here's the thing, though. I know you’re wondering when the ball will drop and my true opinion will be revealed. I know you’re waiting for me to reveal what demographic I'm a part of so that you, dear reader, can neatly slap a label on my head and sort me into some oversimplified category that lets you continue to think you understand this war.
No one wants to sit and ruminate on the difficult questions, the ones that make you wonder if maybe you’ve been tinkered with by the propaganda machine, if you might need to go back on what you’ve said or change your mind. We all strive for our perception of complicated issues to be a comfortable one.
But I know that no matter what I do, there will always be assumptions. So, while I shudder to reveal this information online, I think that maybe my most significant contribution to this meta-discussion spanning every facet of the internet is this:
I am a Jew.
Or, alternatively, I am: Jewish, יהודית, يَهُودِيٌّ, etc. Point is, I come from Jews. And, like any given person, I am a product of generation after generation of love.
I'm not going to take time to explain my heritage to you, or to prove that before all the expulsions and pogroms, there was an origin point. If you don’t believe that, perhaps it’s less of a factual problem and more of an ‘I don’t give weight to the beliefs of indigenous people’ problem. But, in case you want to spend time uselessly refuting this tiny point in a larger argument, you can inspect the photos below (it’s just a small chunk of my DNA test results). Alternatively, you can remember that interrogating someone in an attempt to make their indigeneity match your arbitrary criteria is generally not seen as good manners.
Now, let’s go back to thathateful message (read: poorly disguised death threat) I received in my Tumblr DMs. I think it was like two or three weeks ago. I had recently gained a new follower whose blog’s primary focus was the fandom I contribute to, so I followed them back. I saw in my notes that they were going through my posts and liking them—as one does when gaining a new mutual. Yippee!
Then they sent me this:
I tried to explain that hate speech is not a way to go about participating in political discourse, but the person had already blocked me immediately after sending that message. Then, assured by the fact that I surely would never see them complaining about me on their blog (because, as I said, they blocked me), they posted a shouting rant accusing me of sympathizing with colonizing settlers and declaring me a “racist Zionist fuck.” Oh, the wonders of incognito tabs.
Where this person drew these conclusions after reading my (reblogged) post about antisemitism…. I'm not actually sure. But I greatly sympathize with them, and hope that they weren’t too personally offended by my desire to not die.
For a while I contemplated this experience in my righteous anger, and tried to figure out a way to message this person. I wanted to explain that a) seeing a post about being Jewish and choosing to harass the creator about Israel is literally the definition of antisemitism and b) that sending a hateful DM and refusing to be held accountable is just childish and immature. But I gave up soon after—because, honestly, I knew it wasn’t worth my effort or energy. And I knew that I wouldn't be able to change their mind.
But I still remember staring at that rather unfortunate meme, accompanied by an all-caps message demanding for me to Free Palestine, and thinking: the post didn’t even have any buzzwords. I remember the swoop of dread and guilt and fear. I remember wondering why this kind of antisemitism felt worse, in that moment, than the kind that leaves bodies in its wake.
I remember thinking, I don’t have the power to free anyone.
I remember thinking, I’m so fucking tired.
And before you tell me that this conflict isn’t about religion—let me ask you some questions. Why is it that Israel is even called Israel? (Here’s why.) Why do Jews even want it? (Here’s why.) But also, if you actually read the charters of Islamist terrorist organizations like ISIS, Hamas, and Hezbollah (among others), they equate the modern state of Israel with the Jewish people, and they use the two entities interchangeably. So of course this conflict is religious. It’s never been anything but that.
But I do wonder, when faced with those who deny this fact: how do I prove, through an endless slew of what-about-isms and victim blaming, that I too am hurting? How do I show that empathy is dialectical, that I can care deeply for Palestinians and Gazans while also grieving my own people?
There's this thing that humans do, when we’re frustrated about politics and need to howl our opinions about it into the void until we feel better. We find like-minded souls, usually our friends and neighbors, and fret about the state of the world to each other until we’ve gone around in a satisfactory amount of circles. But these conversations never truly accomplish anything. They’re just a substitute, a stand-in catharsis, for what we really wish we could do: find someone who embodies the spirit of every Jew-hating internet troll, every ignorant justifier of terrorism, and scream ourselves hoarse at them until we change their mind.
But, of course, minds cannot be changed when they are determined to live in a state of irrational dislike. In Judaism, this way of thinking has a name: שנאת חינם (sinat hinam), or baseless hatred. It's a parasite with no definite cure, and it makes people bend over backwards to justify things like the massacre on October seventh, simply because the blame always needs to be placed on the Jews.
So when a Jew is faced with this unsolvable problem, there is only one response to be had, only one feeling to be felt: anger. And we are angry. Carrying around rage with nowhere to put it is exhausting. It's like a weight at the base of our neck that pushes down on our spine, bending it until we will inevitably snap under the pressure. I’m still waiting to break, even now.
I wish I could explain to someone who needs to hear it that terrorism against Israelis happens every single day here, and that we are never more than one degree of separation away from the brutal slaughter of a friend, lover, parent, sibling. I wish it would be enough to say that the majority of Israelis (which includes Arab-Israeli citizens who have the exact same rights as Jewish-Israelis) wish for peace every day without ever having seen what it looks like.
I wish I could show the world that Israel was founded as a socialist state, that it was built on communal values and born from a cluster of kibbutzim (small farming communities based on collective responsibility), and that what it is now isn’t what its people stand for.
I wish the world could open their eyes to what we Israelis have seen since the beginning: that Hamas is the enemy, Hamas is the one starving Palestinians and denying them aid, Hamas is the one who keeps rejecting ceasefire terms and denying their citizens basic human rights. Hamas is the governing body of Gaza, not Israel. Hamas is responsible for the wellbeing of the Palestinian people. And Hamas are the ones who are more determined to murder Jews—over and over and over again, in the most animalistic ways possible—than to look inwards and see the suffering they’ve inflicted on their own people. I wish it was easier to see that.
But the wishing, the asking how can people be so blind, is never enough. I can never just say, I promise I don't want war.
When I bear witness to this baseless hatred, I think of the victims of October seventh. I think of the women and girls who were raped and then murdered, forever unable to tell their stories. I think of the hostages, trapped underneath Gaza in dark tunnels, wondering if anyone will come for them. I think of Ori Ansbacher, of Ezra Schwartz, of Eyal, Gilad, and Naftali, of Lucy, Rina, and Maia Dee, of the Paley boys, of Ari Fuld and of Nachshon Wachsman. I think of all the innocent blood spilled because of terror-fueled hatred and the virus of antisemitism. I think of all the thousands of people who were brutally murdered in Israel, Jews and Muslims and Christians and humans, who will never see peace.
My ties to this land are knotted a thousand times over. Even when I leave, a part of me is left behind, waiting for me to claim it when I return. But when I see the grit it takes to live through this pain, when I see the suffering that paints the world the color of blood, I look to the heavens and I wonder why.
I ask God: is it worth all this? He doesn't answer. So I am the one, in the end, to answer my own question. I say, it has to be.
Feel free to send any genuine, respectful, and clarifying questions you may have to my inbox!
EDIT: just coming on here to say that I'm really touched & grateful for the love on this post. When I wrote it, I felt hopeless; I logged off of Tumblr for Shabbat, dreading the moment I would turn off my phone to find more hate in my inbox. Granted, I did find some, and responding to it was exhausting, but it wasn’t all hate. I read every kind reblog and comment, and the love was so much louder. Thank you, thank you, thank you. 🤍
Source Reading
The Whispered in Gaza Project by The Center for Peace Communications
Why Jews Cannot Stop Shaking Right Now by Dara Horn
Hamas Kidnapped My Father for Refusing to Be Their Puppet by Ala Mohammed Mushtaha
I Hope Someone Somewhere Is Being Kind to My Boy by Rachel Goldberg
The Struggle for Black Freedom Has Nothing to Do with Israel by Coleman Hughes
Israel Can Defend Itself and Uphold Its Values by The New York Times Editorial Board
There Is a Jewish Hope for Palestinian Liberation. It Must Survive by Peter Beinart
The Long Wait of the Hostages’ Families by Ruth Margalit
“By Any Means Necessary”: Hamas, Iran, and the Left by Armin Navabi
When People Tell You Who They Are, Believe Them by Bari Weiss
Hunger in Gaza: Blame Hamas, Not Israel by Yvette Miller
Benjamin Netanyahu Is Israel’s Worst Prime Minister Ever by Anshel Pfeffer
What Palestinians Really Think of Hamas by Amaney A. Jamal and Michael Robbins
The Decolonization Narrative Is Dangerous and False by Simon Sebag Montefiore
Understanding Hamas’s Genocidal Ideology by Bruce Hoffman
The Wisdom of Hamas by Matti Friedman
How the UN Discriminates Against Israel by Dina Rovner
This Muslim Israeli Woman Is the Future of the Middle East by The Free Press
Why Are Feminists Silent on Rape and Murder? by Bari Weiss
#palestine#israel hamas war#israel hamas conflict#hamas#on war#essay writing#personal essay#rant post#stop terrorism#israel#writing#palestinian lives matter#jewish lives matter#jewish and proud#jewish identity#jewish muslim solidarity#on grief#on religion#antisemitism#anti zionisim#purim 2024#chag purim sameach#judaism#israeli palestinian conflict#am yisrael chai#kvetching#jumblr#mims on middle east#המצב
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my phone fell, love lmao i posted it by accident ^^ @tozakimo
strawberry kisses
farmer!momo x baker!reader | fluff, smut | men dni!
it's been an exhausting year, especially for you. you just graduated from your university, settled for a corporate job somewhere in the bustling and loud city of tokyo. it wasn't even related to your degree, for fucks sake, but you settled for it as it paid off really well.
but then, you got another offer later during the year. working for a small bakery at night just across your apartment. it was quiet, healing, with the smell of pastry and coffee pungent in the air— it was surely something you can't compare with anything.
your corporate job got too heavy, and it got to the point that it wasn't working well anymore. you kept your job at the bakery, now working full time.
unfortunately, before november came, the bakery shut down because of unprecedented reasons; which, the owner died of oldness, which you mourned as ms. sato was the kindest person to ever teach you about anything you know about baking now, she was like a second mother, one that you held really dear to your heart.
late november, your sister, mina, went to your apartment in tokyo.
all primed and cut into the right places, mina knocks on your door, three times, "y/n! open this goddamn door!" she shouted, and you revealed yourself, wrapped around a blanket, eyes puffed with tears. "oh," she hugs you immediately, taking your head to lay on her neck as you hugged her back. "tokyo must've been so unkind to you, huh?"
"i-it is," you sobbed as she held you in her arms. "i wanna go home, mina."
"well," she chuckles, rubbing your back in comfort and warmth. "i wouldn't be here if i didn't take you home."
it was such a pleasant feeling; taking the train home to kobe, the regret and awfulness of the big city of tokyo being transported away from you. mina was kind enough to lend you the window seat, which you really enjoyed.
mina taps you on the hand, "hey," she smiled. "it's sana's birthday in a few days..."
"oh! really?" you perked up at the mention of her girlfriend's name. "what do you plan to do?"
"nothing that big," she chuckles, her head hanging down and her hands fiddling with the rings on her fingers. "i bought a ring already, though."
"what!?" you exclaimed, hands on your mouth, trying to make yourself as shocked as you looked. "i mean, you've known each other for what... like 6 years already? i'm glad for you two."
mina sighs, "i know you are," she said. "but i just don't know how to ask her, you know? i'm not the biggest romantic out there. she is. but she's so busy with the farm and all; i know momo's there to help her but i just don't want to add to her worry if i ever ask h-"
"mina," you held your sister by the shoulders and made her look at you. "i'm not really close with sana but i know she loves you. trust me, she's been waiting for you to pop the question."
"well," she blushes. "could you help me?"
"of course," you chuckled at her. "we have like... 20 more days. so no pressure. let's just get home first, hm?"
"yeah," mina sighs as she lies back on her seat. "you know, i'd like you to meet her best friend, though." mina chuckled. "momo. such a lovely person. the girl literally leaves a couple of her fruits for us when she supplies the flour."
you smiled, imagining what she was like, how she was like, going into your family bakery back home. "she sounds delightful."
the next day, you got your being up to go and operate the family bakery, just a few streets away from your home. you went in with mina and briefed you about the different pastries that they still serve. you added a little bit of yours, but you let it out for a while, not confident enough to put it on the pastry shelves yet.
you sighed, taking a break from kneading, baking, mixing, and carrying the goods. it's around 6 'o clock am, just an hour before the bakery opens. mina was cleaning up the dining area thoroughly, as her jazz music blasted in the background.
the bell of the entrance rings, and you jolt up, "we're not yet ope-"
"oh," the woman chuckled, bags of flour on her toned shoulders, carried by muscled biceps. mina comes to lead the woman to the kitchen, where she puts down the flour on the supply area. "um," she says. "i-i need to get the fruits, hold on."
the woman rushes outside, and you stare at her as she goes to her truck.
"that's momo," mina chuckled at your obvious flush. it wasn't one of attraction, but one of embarrassment. you should've greeted her better. "she's cute isn't she?"
she looked delightful as she sounds.
"here," momo drops the fruits on the counter, bunched up in a plastic bag. "i- um, gotta go, mina."
"no, wait," you chuckled at her obvious shyness, her timidness making her cuter than she already was. "sit for a little while. i didn't greet you well so, wait-" you smiled at her as she sat on one of the seats in the dining area. you rushed to the baking area, where you stored the eclairs that you made, pulled out the little box, and stored it for her.
"here," you handed the box of eclairs to her. "just a little trade for the fruits you got us."
she smiles, "thank you," she bowed. "are you new here?"
"oh," you chuckled as you reached out your hand, urging her to shake hands with you. "i'm y/n. mina's sister."
she gently takes your hand, "momo," she says, looking into your eyes in an obvious flush as she spoke. "i- um, i'm mina's flour supplier."
"well, she told me already," you retracted your hand from her hold, but you admit, that was the greatest handshake of your life. she stands, putting the chair back on its old position. "see you around, i guess?"
"yeah, um," she looks down on her shoes as she takes the box of eclairs. "see you around, y/n."
momo leaves shortly after, leaves you in a haze, and mina nudges at you as she sees that little interaction when she is cleaning up the counter.
she laughs, "can't believe i saw two losers interacting with each other, oh my god," she chuckles. "i'm definitely going to ask sana to set you two up on a date because neither of you are going to do it."
"is she really that fucking buff?" you asked, albeit randomly.
"jesus," mina laughs further. "you stared at her arms the whole time?"
"damn," you palmed your face in the realization. "well it was out. if it had eyes, it'll be looking at me. but she's cute."
"can't believe that my sister thirsted in front of me," mina sighed. "anyways, she lives just right beside sana's. if you wanna know that sort of thing."
well, it's not useless, you thought. "i'm not some creep... i don't just want to show up at her door."
mina laughs as she arranges the trays of pastries ready to be lined up at the pastry shelves, "trust me, she wants you to."
the next day, you and mina, with her girlfriend, came and visited sana's farm, somewhere up the countryside. sana grew vines of grapes, with her wine distillery up the hill.
as you went up the hill, you saw various other fruits, and it reminded you of what momo supplies to the bakery everyday. you've made a jam out of the strawberries she gave, and it was as red as what you're seeing now.
"ah, momo!" sana calls out, waving to the truck that was driving by.
"hey!" momo stopped the truck, coming down from it. you looked in her direction; her hair tied up into a nice bun, her black tank top, her worn out cargo pants, and some boots. god. she looks like she's straight out of your dream. "the deliveries this day was so fucking many-" she mumbles and suddenly stops as you made your way to mina's side. "oh, hi," she greets, in a small tone. "y/n, right?"
"yeah," you smiled. "the strawberries there," you pointed. "are they yours?"
"oh," she scratched her nape, her cheeks at an obvious blush. "yeah- um, yeah it's mine."
"we'll head to the distillery for a while," sana chuckles as she held mina's hand. "take it from here, momo. she hasn't seen your side of the place."
"sana," she sighs. "alright. okay. i'll go take care of it."
you chuckled, "so, strawberries," you said. "how come they're so plump here? they're beautiful."
"well," she went to your side as you viewed the row of freshly grown strawberries. "it's all grown naturally. no pesticides or anything, i make sure that even the soil's clean."
"oh, wow," you commented. "i made a jam out of the strawberries you've been giving us," you said. "it's the yummiest ones. you want to have some?"
"oh, of course," she smiles. you can't help but melt. "the eclairs were so good though," she commented. "how come you aren't selling them yet?"
"i- um," you went silent for a second. "i'm not that confident yet with how it can turn out, you know. that's the last recipe that i learned from someone."
"well," she sighs. "i totally understand. i'll wait for those, though!"
you smiled at her. "so," you looked at her. "what do you do besides farming, momo?"
"i- um," she looks down on her shoes once more, trying to hide her obviously red face. "play drums at the local bar."
"no way!" you said, exclaiming in amusement. "wow," you commented on her. "you seem so chill. didn't expect that you're one."
"well," she chuckled. "it's a jazz bar. nothing too hardcore."
"what do you mean nothing too hardcore?" you chuckled once more, and as you two progress in talking, the more you get amazed at how incredibly delightful this woman was. "i love jazz. where do you play? i wanna go drop by."
"santorini's," she says. "it's sana's bar, actually."
"that friend of yours is one big businesswoman here, huh," you commented. "well, she's perfect with mina."
"couldn't agree more," she says. "when your sister came to her life, it was like she had forgiven anything. i mean, i came late to an invitation once and she just said 'it's okay,' like it's the most normal thing. i guess your sister really did put a bunch of ice on her head to calm her down."
you laughed loudly, astounded by the way she spoke, "ah, you're so..."
"what?" she asks.
"nothing," you chuckled. "so," you clasped your hands at your back. "will you drop by us tomorrow, too?"
"well," she blushed. "of course. i have to deliver mina's orders."
"okay," you smiled. "you don't have to be so uptight around me, you know?"
"i- um-" momo stuttered as you held her hand.
"see," you had a tight grip around her hand, letting her feel the coldness of it against her warm ones. "you're kinda- too cute for this."
it was a thursday, and you went to the bakery right after you took your workout, a new thing that you've been wanting to do.
well, you didn't have time to change, so you baked in your workout outfit, just switching the shirt into a spare, tight, tank top. the apron was clearly useless now, probably.
momo came into the kitchen while you were taking out the freshly baked buns, one that was baking underneath the bigger oven so you had to lean down.
"oh, careful." momo notes as she passes by you. she doesn't forget the sight. you bent down like that waiting for her to get over. god. it made momo go a little crazy while she went and dropped the flour at its usual spot in the bakery supply area. she let herself take that in for a while as she sat down, closing her eyes, feeling an uncomfortable state between her legs.
"momo?" you called out to her, and you went to the supply area, where you found her just.. there. "oh," you quickly went to get some water, as she stared a little too much on your backside on those purple leggings. "here," you said, cutting her out of her daze as you handed her some water. "tough day?"
"very," she said, gulping down the water with a couple of sips. you reached out to a certain drawer in the supply area, your perfectly shaped glutes on display for her. well, fuck. you handed over the strawberry jam to her. "oh, is this it?"
"yeah," you smiled. "try it out. just get a sourdough at the shelves. don't worry, i'll pay for it."
"nope, i have plenty of those at home," she chuckled as she stood up. "i- um," she stutters once more. "are you still going? i'm playing at saturday."
"oh," you smiled, wide enough to compete with the sun. "of course, momo. wouldn't miss that."
"great!" she smiles in happiness, clutching the strawberry jam next to her.
"i'll be cheering for you," you chuckled as you put a hand on her shoulder, rubbing it. "good luck!"
she chuckled. "yeah, thanks."
saturday came by fast.
you hung out with momo last night at the market fair, along with mina and sana, who went around the carnival hand in hand.
you had your own delight with momo, who was chill at the carnival games, her winning at several ones, surprisingly as you two ate several snacks on the way. she won a big my melody plushie, which you will forever be thankful for.
you just like spending time with her. she has such immense warmth, though quite timid and shy sometimes, but she was beautiful in a way that you wanted to be consumed by her.
"god," you sigh against your bed, trying to settle into an outfit. "fuck."
"hey," mina says, her body leaning against the doorway. "having trouble?"
"yeah," you sighed as you sat up, and mina made her way to sit with you. "i've been struggling to find an outfit. i don't want something too fitting, too unrevealing, too tight, too everything- i just want something perfect for the night, mina."
mina laughs as she made way to your closet, and pulls out a specific dress. it was a black, suede, champagne dress with its straps thin just to hold the dress together.
"mina, you're a fucking genius," you sighed in comfort as you chuckled, taking the dress from mina's hands. "this is perfect, thank you."
mina laughs, "i know it is. date with momo?"
"hm, kinda like that. i'm seeing her play," you chuckled. "what about you? staying for the night?"
"i'll be at sana's," mina sighs. "she's not having the best time right now..."
"oh, like..." you stopped for a moment, understanding that her girlfriend was sick.
"she's been having a bad fever for the past few days." mina sighs.
"well," you sighed as well, but you remembered something. "i had some extra soup i made a few hours ago," you said. "maybe that could help her."
"you're a lifesaver," mina sighs in relief. "why'd you make it though?"
"just wanted something warm," you giggled. "anyways, i'll be leaving at 7."
"yeah, no worries," mina smiles. "good luck with your date!"
you arrived at the bar, a little past 7pm, perfectly in time in momo's set.
the previous band had only finished playing as you sat right in front, ordering a martini as the first drink of the night.
momo's band comes in as the dim light slowly gets stronger, you catch a sight of momo; in her signature tank top, arms out, with her pants, and a flannel tightly wrapping around the waistband of it. god. she looks so good.
the drums were, unusually, right on front and on the side, just a little beside you and she says 'hi,' with a little smile, her drumstick stuck to her fingers.
she was so cute, but then, she went on to test the tone of the drums, and it sounded great. but god, the way her muscles flexed as she took the drums to sound was so tempting that you just wanted to pull her out of the band and take her home.
but then, she catches a little glance at you again, as she sees you walk to the bathroom. she doesn't miss the subtle appearance of your cleavage, the way that the dress hugged your body so divine, and the way that your ass was so curved in it. it drove her fucking crazy.
you made your way back to your seat, as momo started the song with her band. you got another drink of the same kind.
they played really well, a couple of jazz hits, some requests, and some originals from their band were played.
momo looked at you from the crowd the whole time. you were so beautiful and irresistible in that fucking dress, that she wants to make you tell her to rip it off.
a few songs later, momo's band takes a bow, and the lights dim once more as a sign that their set was finished.
you wait for her silently at your table, now ordering your fourth drink of the night.
"hey," someone taps your shoulder from the back. "how was it?"
you saw momo in all of her glory, her flannel now covering her bare arms. she sits beside you, looking you in the eye.
"you're so great," you said. "you were so good at playing the drums!"
"well," she chuckled as she gestured to the waiter to get her the same drink. "someone important was watching, i didn't want to blow that up."
you chuckled at her, "hm, important, then? so, it's a date..."
"you could put it that way," she teased back. she leans closer to whisper to you, "you look beautiful tonight."
"thanks," you said as you put a hand on her thigh, getting her comfortable with your touches. "you're not so bad yourself. had your arms out and all on the stage."
momo laughs, "well, i didn't know you'd stare at that."
"i mean, i can help but to, you know," you confessed. "it's just so big-"
"something else is bigger- what?" she gets flustered by herself, saying the phrase. "no, oh my god, sorry, y/n... that was such a bad joke."
you just laughed and let yourself lean on her arm. "it's nothing, momo. it's okay," you placed a little kiss on her cheek. "you know, if you really wanna show it off," you slide your hands through her inner thighs, down to her crotch, feeling the material and her cock desperately straining against it. "do it, momo."
"fuck," she stands up, holding your hand, leaving the payment on the table as she makes a rush going out of the bar. "you're getting it."
"hm, let me." you chuckled as she went to open the car door for you, letting you sit down. she went and got into the other side of the car, and she drove away.
"such a little tease for me," she said, running her hand through your bare thigh. "wearing this tight fucking dress," she touches the hem of it as she drove off. "all for others to see."
you held onto your seatbelts as she creeped her fingers closer to your center. "momo-"
the teasing stopped once you arrived at her house, as she pulled you into a deep, breathless kiss. she lets you wrap your legs around her waist as she carries you inside, going to her room.
"fuck," she pulls away, closing her room's door, as she nipped on your neck, making sure that it's red enough for her. "you don't know how much i've been wanting you, baby."
you can't help but moan, and clutch your hand on her hair as she laid you down on her bed, nipping on the valley of your collarbones as she takes off your dress.
"so fucking pretty." she latches on your nipple, as she takes the other to knead with her hand.
"momo, ah- fuck," you rut your hips against her knee as she holds you by the waist. "i need you."
she pulls away from your breasts, as you kiss her, taking her flannel off, and pulling her tank top off. you held tightly to her bicep, as you gently tug on her pants, opening the button of it.
she kneels on top of you, her evident bulge just right on your face. it curved to the side of her calvin klein's, and she takes your hand to palm it.
"so warm, baby," she says, feeling the sensation of you touching it above her boxers. "take it off."
you took it off, and it springed right up, her cock red and hard, slapping up to her navel.
you took her length to your hand, pumping it up and down, as she thrusts. "so needy." you swiped your thumb on the sensitive head, making her squirm.
"wan' fuck your mouth," she whined, getting off of you for a second as she took the space beside you. "please?"
"so cute when you beg," you pumped her a couple of times, as you trailed your kisses from her chest to her stomach. she was whining, holding you by the hair as she makes you a makeshift ponytail. you licked the head of her cock, and she moans loudly. "so cute."
you finally let her fuck your mouth, the big length just sliding in and out of your throat, the tip reaching parts of your mouth you've never known before. momo knows that you were choking, but that doesn't stop her, as she pulled you down by the head to take on her 9 inch length.
"god," she stills, letting her cock pulse fully inside of your mouth. "you're so fucking good, baby."
she finally pulls out, flipping you over with her big strong arms as she kisses your neck once more. "tell me what you want, baby," she whispered. "i need you to let me fuck you like the little bitch you are."
"make me cum," you held onto her hand that was kneading your breast. "please, momo, i don't care how many times- just-"
she kisses you on the lips once more, making you shut up. "don't worry about it."
she trailed her kisses from your chest to the waistband of your panties, spreading your legs and putting it on her shoulders.
"needy little bitch, all for me," she tapped on your arousal that seeped through your panties a couple of times, which made you squirm, your thighs closing on her head. she spreads them once more, removing your panties, and now, the wetness of it glistens in front of her. she takes a long stripe from your hole to your clit, making you hold onto her hair. "and you're delicious. can't wait to eat you all night."
she latches her mouth on your clit, looking at you with utmost adoration and lust as you come apart on her tongue. she laps, circles, and plays around with it, making you moan and strut your hips to meet her tongue. she couldn't be more happier when you begged more.
"momo, fuck," you moaned out, her lips still closed and sucking your clit. "fingers, please."
she happily complies, her fingers teasing the outside of your folds, getting it wet enough to be inserted. she puts two of her fingers inside, licking at your clit, as she moves it in and out to hit your g-spot so deliciously.
"mmgh! holy shit, momo," you closed your eyes in the ecstasy of her pleasure. "more, fuck," you rutted your hips, her fingers going faster. "ah."
she pulls away, smirking as she pumps her fingers faster, now she latches on your nipple, stimulating the hard nub, as she makes you come apart on her fingers.
your juices were overflowing on her hand as she went and used her thumb to make circles on your clit. "momo!" you held onto her biceps as she kissed you on the neck. "fuck, fuck," you were becoming sensitive, with the way she was holding and fucking you with her fingers. "momo, i'm gonna-" you held onto her tightly, feeling the heat building up from your pussy.
"cum for me," she whispers, the thumb on your clit teasing you further. "cum, baby."
"fuck!" you screamed, squirting on her hand. you felt your arousal trickle on her hand, to her bed, but you felt something different. it was momo's cum, white, spurted, on your thigh. "did my baby cum untouched with that, huh?" you teased as you pumped her cock, and was surprised that it wasn't even half hard. it was still hard, ready to be inside of you.
"don't worry," you went on top of her, your hands directly touching her toned stomach, as you glide your wetness on her length. "can't wait to have your big cock inside of me," you moaned, lining up her wet cock to your hole. "mmgh," you slowly sit on it, the girth already stretching you out enough. "so fucking big, baby."
she held your arms, as you tried to sit down on her cock. slowly, you ride her, her length not fully in. she was getting impatient, so she rolled you two over, slamming her cock inside of you fully.
she lets you feel her cock inside of you, almost kissing your cervix with how big it is.
"so tight," she thrusts, holding you by the waist, fucking into you slowly to get you loosened up. "fuck, is it your first time?"
"no," you let yourself sway with her, already trembling with how big she was. "it's just that you're so big..."
"hmm, i know," she kisses you once more, a little gentle, as she tries to thrust in and out slowly. "just tell me if you're good already, hm? don't want to destroy my sweetheart like that."
you wrapped your arms around her and you smiled, "get rough with me," you whispered, your mouth forming into an 'o' as her thrusts fasten. "make me your bitch, come on- ah," you moaned, holding onto her biceps. "fuck, use that fucking cock."
"g'nna destroy your little cunt, baby," she moans, holding you by the waist, thrusting as your back arches to her touch. "i'm too big for you," she growls, putting her hand above the spot where she feels her cock bulge. "taking me so fucking well."
you continued to writhe below her, as she pumps her cock, in and out, your pleasure spot getting battered as you let out spurts of your arousal.
"you're so wet," she says, pulling out completely, and turning you over. she tucked a few pillows on your chest, letting you lean onto it as you're now positioned by her on fours. "i want you to stay like this. can you, baby?"
"hmm," you moaned, feeling your juices trickle down to the bedsheets. "fuck..."
"you're making a mess," she laughs, rubbing your folds languidly, as she inserted herself once more, shocking you. you were tighter, "you're gonna squirt on my cock, aren't you, messy girl?'
she went and rubbed your hardened clit, making you squirm and grip her sheets as you whined, screamed, and shouted her name.
she continues to thrust, fast, as she slaps your ass. "fucking slut, always having your ass out when you're at the bakery," she closes her eyes and remembered the times that your ass confined into your clothes too much as she squeezed on it, spreading it apart. "you've been wanting someone to fuck you like this, haven't you, hm?"
"yes, yes!" you screamed, holding onto her sheets as you slammed your hips back in time with hers. she pulls you to her by your hair, and she wrapped her arms around you as she thrusts, her fingers once again creating tight circles on your wet clit.
she huffs, kissing your neck once more, leaving a mark as she held you by the waist, thrusting uncontrollably when she felt your pussy walls pulse against her.
"momo," you moaned, weakly, as you leaned into her touch. "fuck, momo, fuck me more," you whined. "please-"
she pushed you gently again, making you go on fours, as she thrusts, faster than she was before, pumping her wet length in and out of you.
"am i fucking in you enough, huh," she asks in short breaths, her wet skin on your wet skin as you moaned onto her pillows. "so fucking tight, baby," she grunts, feeling your arousal grow by the minute. "cum for me."
you squirted as she continued to thrust, fucking your overused pussy as it pulsed.
"take it." she thrusts, slow, as she makes you feel her pulse. her warm liquid covers your inner walls, as she falls on top of you. "fuck," she pulls out, letting herself soften outside of you. she went and admired her work, your hole filled with her cum, dripping to your clit, but she was fast as she used her tongue to put it back in. she went back to you, making you come back to a laying position, and she makes you rest on her chest. "w's that good, baby?"
you nod against her warm chest, looking up at her. "so good," you smiled, kissing her cheek. "thank you, momo."
she chuckled, "that's nothing," she says. "how are you? did i get too rough? sorry if i d-"
"i told you, right?" you chuckled, holding her hand. "so no, you're not too much."
"well," she blushed still, as she Interlocked her fingers with yours. "what about a proper date?"
"maybe, that's too late to ask," you chuckled. "i mean, you already have me here, you know?"
she laughs, "just wanted to make sure." she kisses your forehead.
maybe, your year isn't that bad at all.
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Audience of One pt.3
Satoru x fem!reader x Suguru
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
Word count: 6.5k
Series Summary: When Suguru first walked in on you and Satoru having sex, it was an accident. But he couldn't say the same about every time after that. He's under the impression that this habit of his is a secret. But you and Satoru have known this whole time and didn't plan on letting Suguru know anytime soon.
pt.3 Info: MDNI 18+, fem!reader, PiV sex, unprotected sex, voyeurism, threesome/throuple, cuck Gojo, hair pulling, morning sex, squirting, praise/degradation kink, spanking, begging, pet names (princess, baby, love, etc), established relationship w Gojo, aftercare, basically 90% porn 10% fluff, Gojo teaching Geto how to fuck you, Geto is no longer shy
pt.1 pt.2 pt.4
˚₊ · »-♡→ I know I said I'd post pt.3 yesterday, but I panicked and rewrote like half of it (oops lol). BUT- I'm much happier w this version 🛐
Also not sure if this would be a good place to end?? or if more parts would be wanted ¿ I would be more than happy to turn this into a series and I even have a pt.4 in the works, but I also don't want this to feel dragged on yk. Please lmk your thoughts because I am incapable of making my own decisions (ノ ° 益 °) ノ
Early hours of the morning came, and the first one awake was Geto. He looked down at you and his breath caught in his throat.
You looked so peaceful.
So angelic.
He couldn't help but press a soft kiss to your forehead.
His mind wandered to last night and he smiled. Everything was perfect. The feeling of your bare body was warm and inviting, and having you pressed against him sent sparks down his spine. Geto had never felt this way before.
He could get used to this.
"Hey," a sleepy voice whispered from beside him, startling him out of his trance.
Geto turned to see a very disheveled Gojo looking at him through half closed eyes, "Hey,"
Gojo’s attention shifted to your resting figure, still curled up against Geto's chest. He couldn't help the smirk that spread across his face.
"She's really out," he whispered with a small chuckle.
"Yeah," Geto replied, "we wore her out."
"Damn right we did," Gojo smiled proudly, "I'd like to see how long it takes to wear her out next time," Geto's eyebrows raised at the mention of a 'next time.'
Seeing the surprised expression, Gojo smiled and reached over, and landed a playful punch on Geto's shoulder, "I meant it when I said you're welcome anytime- In fact, I was thinking, would you want to do this again? Not just the sex, I mean, I that part too, but like, all of it. Hanging out and stuff," he clarified, a hint of embarrassment in his voice, “It just seems like there’s good chemistry between us,” he added trying to explain his reasoning with a gesture that circled the three of you.
Geto thought for a moment, contemplating his answer.
Last night was the best night of his life. And he didn't want it to end. He wanted to be able to feel your warmth against him again and again. To be able to see your beauty, and to experience all the joy and happiness that came along with it.
The events of last night unlocked something deep within him. His desires had surpassed mere lust, and turned into something more. Something deeper.
Something genuine.
And with that revelation, Geto decided to take a leap of faith. "I'd like that," he replied, a bit of nervous enthusiasm coming out in his tone.
Smirking, Gojo nodded and moved to brush stray pieces of hair out of your sleeping face. "Great. Well, I guess we'll have to have a real conversation about this once she's up," he nodded down at you, "but for now, we should probably get some more sleep."
"Yeah," Geto nodded, a smile creeping onto his lips.
With that, the two men fell back into a comfortable slumber, their arms gently wrapped around you.
⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆
A few hours later your eyes began to flutter open, thick with blurriness from the heavy sleep you were just in.
Once your vision cleared, you were met with the sight of Gojo's sleeping figure beside you. His hair was a mess, sticking out in every direction. The sunlight was peeking through the curtains, casting a glow on his bare skin.
Turning to your left, Geto lay fast asleep. His features were relaxed, and his mouth hung slightly open. You couldn't help but admire his beauty.
You couldn't believe how lucky you were. Laying between these gods that walked among men.
You didn't want this moment to end.
Lifting yourself slightly to yawn and stretch, you accidentally hit Geto in the face, waking him. "Oops- I’m so sorry!" you giggled and flashed him an apologetic smile.
"It’s okay, beautiful," seemingly unphased by your elbow making contact his forehead, he smiled, leaning down to press a kiss on your cheek, “Good morning,”
The gesture was unexpectedly warm and sweet. Not that Geto had never been sweet to you before, but this just felt… different. Like it carried a new weight behind it.
You smiled and leaned into the kiss, "Morning," you murmured back, your voice still laced with sleep.
Geto's heart skipped a beat at the sight of your smile. He just couldn’t get over the warmth you radiated.
You felt a hand slide up your side and rest on your waist. "And what about me?" Gojo pouted.
Turning to face him you placed a soft kiss on his lips and mumbled into it, "Hello, baby," He hummed in satisfaction and scooted in closer, not wanting to leave even the slightest gap between you.
“How did you sleep?” Geto asked while massaging your neck that was tense after the events of last night.
"Mmm, so good," you replied, letting out a small sigh as the tension left your shoulders. You could practically feel the aches melting and your muscles turning to malleable putty under his touch.
"I'm glad," he smiled, continuing to rub his thumb into the knots of your skin.
"And you?" You asked, turning to look at him.
"Wonderfully," he smiled, his hands not stopping their massage. You couldn't help the way your cheeks heated up from this simple interaction.
God, his man was truly a treasure.
Gojo watched the interaction and felt a warmth spread through his chest. He liked seeing that you brought out Geto's soft side, and he knew that you enjoyed it too. The three of you stayed like that for a few minutes, silently enjoying each other's company.
Then, Gojo let out a dramatic sigh, and broke the silence.
"Hey, so," he started, looking between you and his friend, "Suguru and I talked earlier," Your brow furrowed at the tone in his voice. He sounded nervous.
Perking up, you raised a brow at him, "Oh?" You questioned.
"Mhm, we had a very productive conversation," Gojo continued, "while you were asleep," he clarified, "and, we think that, well, we- um, the three of us should hang out. Like, outside of sex. Or during. Or after. I mean- not like a requirement, just an option, if you're comfortable," he rambled.
You blinked.
Your face twisted with confusion as you tried to process his words. "Toru, what are you talking about?" you questioned, needing clarification.
"I want to date you too," Geto cut to the chase, his voice surprisingly steady and confident, "you would be with both of us. At the same time."
You stared at him.
Your brain was blank.
You breathed out a surprised, "Oh," The thought of it was interesting and foreign, though, not unwelcome.
"Only if you're comfortable with it," Gojo quickly added, "we know it's a bit... unconventional."
"A bit?" you asked sarcastically with a small laugh.
Gojo laughed and nodded, "Okay, a lot," he admitted, "but, we talked, and we agree. We want this," he said, motioning between the three of you, "Geto has clearly developed something for you, and vice versa. And I figured what better solution than adding Suguru to our relationship?"
You sat in silence for a few moments, mulling over the situation.
"It wouldn't be weird to you?" you asked Gojo with a concerned expression, "sharing me with your best friend?"
"Not if it's Suguru," he replied without hesitation, "we know each other well, and I trust him with my life. Plus- if it was, I would have never been able to enjoy the sight of my best friend eating out the woman I love, right?" he added with a teasing smirk, referencing the events of last night.
Your eyes widened and your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, "Satoru!" you scolded.
Gojo laughed and pulled you in for a quick kiss. "It's true," he whispered against your lips.
Turning to Geto, you gave him a questioning glance, "And you're okay with this?" you asked, wanting to make sure he was certain.
"Yes," he answered without a moment of hesitation.
"You would really want this?" you questioned, "It wouldn't be weird for you?"
Geto let out a chuckle, "I wouldn't be offering if it was weird for me. I'm not going to lie, it's a little unconventional," he stated, "but, I would love the chance to be with you- even if it's not the traditional way," his confession caused a wave of butterflies to erupt in your stomach.
You thought for some time. The two men waited patiently, knowing that you would need a few minutes to process everything.
Assessments of the situation swirled in your mind. You loved Gojo and the life you had with him. And you wouldn’t want to do anything to jeopardize it. But they both seemed so certain. They said they trusted each other, and if that was the case then why shouldn't you?
And on top of that, you couldn’t deny how Geto made you feel. Last night was clearly more than a one time deal. It was deeper than just sex, it was intimate. The way he touched you and admired you all night had chills running down your spine from just thinking about it.
The more you thought about it, the more appealing the idea became.
Being able to be with both of them was a dream come true. They were both kind, generous, and made you feel like the most precious thing in the world.
"If you aren't comfortable with this-" Gojo began, but was quickly cut off.
"I want to," you said quietly, "but what if something goes wrong?"
Gojo and Geto exchanged a quick look and burst out laughing.
That was certainly not the response you were expecting when airing your worries. "What's so funny?!" You asked, a bit irritated that they were laughing at your valid concerns.
"Baby," Gojo chuckled, "have you not seen the shit we've been through together? We'll be fine.”
Crossing your arms in defense you Looked between the two of them, "But still- What if you guys get jealous, or something goes wrong and we stop talking, or- or-"
Pressing a finger to your lips, Gojo silenced your anxious ramblings, "Shh, baby," he whispered sweetly with a reassuring smile, "We've got each other's backs. Plus, I'll kick Suguru's ass if he makes you upset," he joked.
Geto laughed and nodded, "I'd do the same," he added, causing a small giggle to slip past your lips.
You gave them an unsure smile, "I know you say that nothing will happen, but what if something does?" you countered, looking between them for an answer.
Gojo took your hands in his and looked you dead in the eyes. "Nothing will go wrong," he said, his voice now serious and full of promise.
"I'll make sure of it," he stated, a fire in his eyes, "Suguru will too."
A heavy sigh escaped your lips and you turned to Geto with a silent question in your eyes. "I'm not gonna let either of us fuck this up," he affirmed, reading the concern behind your gaze.
"We want to make this work," Gojo added, "And besides, do you really think I would put the best pussy of my life at risk?" He squeezed your side, making you let out a giggle.
You gave him a playful shove, "Shut up, idiot,"
"It's true!" He laughed and caught your wrist, pulling you in and placing a kiss on your temple.
"He's right though," Geto smirked, "last night was the best experience of my life. And that’s saying a lot considering I didn’t even fuck you."
Your cheeks heated and you let out a flustered laugh, "So you're in this for the sex, is that what I'm hearing?" you teased, poking Geto in the ribs.
He caught your hand and pulled it to his lips, planting a kiss on your knuckles. "No, sweet girl, its more than that." he said, looking down at you with a tender smile, "I'm in this for you- you know that."
The way his tone softened and his eyes gleamed was enough to make you melt.
And without wasting another moment you looked between the two men and nodded, "I'm in," you stated confidently, "if the two of you are."
Both their faces lit up at your confirmation, and the smile on their faces was bright enough to blind a person.
"Hell yeah!" Gojo cheered and wrapped his arms around you, "we're gonna make this work," he said, placing kisses all over your face. Geto smiled and joined, littering kisses down your neck.
And just like that all previous worries were melted away from the tingles that rippled across your skin after each new kiss. You giggled and melted into both sets of arms that caressed and embraced you gently.
Slowly, their sweet kisses began to get more rough. More hungry.
The way their hands roamed your body and their lips nipped at your flesh sent a spark of excitement through you.
"You're gonna be all ours, aren't you, princess?" Gojo purred into your ear.
A small whimper slipped past your lips as his breath fanned your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. "Mhm," you hummed, your eyes becoming heavy with lust.
Geto's fingers traced your collarbones, moving further down and stopping just above your breast.
"And I'm gonna take such good care of you, give you everything you want," Geto promised, "you're mine too now."
His possessive words sent a jolt of heat straight to your cunt and you arched into his touch.
"Yours," you mumbled, too drunk off their affection to register what was being said.
They both let out satisfied hums.
Gojo's hands slid down your body, his fingertips grazing your nipples, before resting on your waist. "Our perfect girl," Gojo murmured and pressed a kiss to your shoulder, "you're so beautiful."
Geto's fingers dipped down into your cleavage, squeezing your breasts gently, and his lips found yours. "So obedient," he mumbled into the kiss.
You whimpered against his lips. The feeling of their hands all over your body and their praises filling your ears was intoxicating.
"Mm, fuck," Gojo groaned, grinding his erection on your ass.
Gasping into the kiss, your eyes widened and turned to him "Satoru," you whined.
"Shh, Princess," he shushed, his hands gripping your waist, "be a good girl and keep kissing Suguru while I play with you,"
Your breath hitched, but you nodded and turned back to Geto, who was looking at you with a dark lust in his eyes. And instantly, Geto's warm lips were back on yours. They felt soft and plump, like velvet pillows, and you couldn't help but melt into the sensation.
"Good girl," Gojo praised, his hands moving further down your body.
You whimpered when his hands came into contact with the bare skin of your thighs, his touch sending chills through your body.
Gojo leaned down and planted a kiss on your shoulder, then continued peppering kisses along the sensitive skin of your neck, "We're gonna keep you nice and happy, baby," Gojo promised, the vertebration of the words on your neck tickling you lightly.
Your mind was blank. All you could do was moan and let them explore your body. Geto's tongue was slowly swirling around your own. His movements were slow and gentle, taking the time to savor the feeling.
Rocking into Geto's thigh, you chased the pressure, hoping it would satiate the throbbing in your cunt.
Geto's grip tightened on your tits and he pulled back slightly, just enough to break the kiss and allow a string of spit to hang between your mouths. "This desperate already?" he smirked, his thumbs rubbing circles into the hard buds of your nipples.
"Always," Gojo smirked, "she's such a needy little slut,"
You whined and rolled your hips, the need between your thighs growing more apparent with every passing moment.
Geto's eyes flicked down to your mouth, which was parted and breathing heavier, then back up to your eyes. The sight made his cock twitch, and his gaze darkened, "Fuck, that's so hot," Geto groaned, his dick already hard. His hands moved downward to your hips, gripping to hold you still, "Be patient for us, princess."
Gojo continued his kisses along the length of your neck, his lips brushing against your skin, sending goosebumps up your arms. "She loves hearing us praise her," Gojo smirked, "she's always so desperate for any sort of validation. Drives her wild,"
The truth in his words made you whine and looked at Geto, who was staring down at you with lust-filled eyes. "Is that so?" He asked, his hands moving to cup your face.
"Yes," you breathed, leaning into his touch.
His attention turned back to Gojo, "And does she like to be degraded too?" He asked, curious, but already knew the answer.
Gojo opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off from a whimper that escaped your lips. You bit your lip, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as you avoided their eye contact.
A mischievous smirk formed on Geto's lips, "Oh?" He tilted your chin up and looked down at you, "Look at me," he demanded.
You did as instructed, your heart skipping a beat when you met his gaze.
"Tell me," he began, his thumb running over your bottom lip, "do you like being treated like a little slut?"
His question caused a rush of heat to run through your body. You could hear the blood rushing in your ears, and you could swear that your arousal was now dripping onto the sheets beneath you.
Gojo couldn't help the chuckle that slipped past his lips. Your obvious reaction to Geto's words was adorable.
"I'll take that as a yes," Geto smirked, his eyes not leaving yours as he pushed his thumb past your lips. "Although, I guess I shouldn't expect anything more from the dirty slut who would let me watch her boyfriend fuck her for months."
The humiliation that coursed through you was overwhelming, and yet, you felt more aroused than ever before. You closed your eyes and took Geto's thumb into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the digit and letting out a moan.
You were helpless to the words coming from Geto's mouth, and there was nothing you wanted more than to be completely submissive to him. It was clear to them that this new way that Geto spoke to you was making you dizzy with lust.
"Oh, you like how Suguru is talking to you right now, don’t you, princess?" Gojo smirked, watching your reactions, "He's always so polite, so gentle with you. It's a nice change, huh? Seeing him be a little mean."
You nodded and moaned around Geto's thumb, which was still resting on your tongue.
Gojo was right, you did enjoy the new change. The way Geto looked down at you with a dark glint in his eyes, his usually sweet and caring demeanor nowhere to be seen, was driving you crazy. You wanted nothing more than to be dominated by him.
To be completely and utterly destroyed by him.
"What do you think, princess? Should we have Suguru fuck you? Let him see what a dirty, slutty, cum dump, you are firsthand?" Gojo cooed, his hands roaming up and down your thighs.
You whined, and Geto withdrew his thumb, a string of saliva still connecting it to your lips. "Is that what you want?"
”Please," you begged with an embarrassing urgency, "please, please, please, let him fuck me." you turned to Gojo, who was already beginning to stroke his cock with his free hand.
"Please," you repeated, looking up at Geto with a pleading expression, "I need it, please."
"Oh, you need it, do you?" Geto cooed, "Such a pathetic little slut, begging for my cock, and you don't even know how good I can fuck you," he teased, looking down at you with a patronizing smirk.
You whimpered and looked up at him, desperation clear on your face, "Show me," you begged, "please, show me how good you can fuck me."
The corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk, "Well, since you're asking so nicely," he said, "Get on your back. Now." His demanding voice took you by surprise and you immediately followed his instructions.
You untangled your legs from his and laid back, looking up at him with wide, innocent, eyes.
"Good girl," Gojo praised, sitting beside you. He pushed your legs apart and dipped his fingers between your folds. He rubbed his hand sloppily, for his pleasure only, the goal being to collect your juices. Then, he brought it to his dick, using it to help his jerk off.
"So wet," he said, pumping his dick with your slick.
"Toru," you pleaded, arching into his touch that was no longer there.
"Shh, just sit back and let me watch Suguru fuck you, princess," Gojo soothed, his thumb running circles around his slit, mixing your wetness with his pre-cum.
The room felt like it was spinning around you, and the only thing grounding you was getting touched in the place you needed it most.
Geto positioned himself between your legs and placed his cock on your clit. You could feel the hot, throbbing, length rest on your sensitive bud and it made you shudder.
Geto's hand gripped your thigh and he spread you wider, taking in the sight before him. "God, I'm never going to get tired of that view," Geto sighed.
"Just wait until you're in her," Gojo smirked, admiring your glistening slick rub onto Geto's shaft.
He let out a hum and slid his cock between your folds, coating his dick in your wetness. You moaned, your breath hitching as the head brushed against your entrance.
Seeing how needy you were getting, Gojo moved his free hand down and spread your lips, exposing your dripping hole for Geto's viewing.
"So pretty," Geto praised, his tip prodding at your entrance.
You were soaking wet and more than ready for him, and when he slowly pushed in, a loud groan ripped through his throat as he inched deeper into your warmth.
"Oh, god, so tight," he praised, his hips pausing halfway to give you time to adjust, "so perfect."
Your hands balled into fists and you moaned loudly, the feeling of him filling you up was so overwhelming, but in the best way possible.
"Isn't she?" Gojo asked, leaning in to press kisses against your neck, "you're perfect, aren't you? The perfect little fuck toy for us, and us only- Say it."
As he continued to slowly slide in, Geto kept his eyes trained on yours, not wanting to miss a second of your reactions.
Heat rose to your cheeks under his gaze, embarrassment evident in your expression. "I- I'm," you stuttered, a small whine slipping past your lips before you could get the words out.
"Use your words," Geto commanded through clenched teeth, his grip on your thighs tightening as your cunt pulsed around him.
You whimpered and nodded, trying to collect yourself. "I- I'm a perfect fuck toy," you choked out, a mixture of craving and shame washing over you, "yours- just for the two of you,"
"Fuck- Yes, you are," Geto praised, bottoming out and giving you a few moments to adjust. You whined and clenched around him, feeling fuller than ever before.
After your muscles relaxed, you rocked lightly against Geto's cock, to show you were ready for him. Though, just that small movement had you seeing stars as his tip hit your g-spot.
Your mouth opened in a silent scream and your nails dug into the sheets, gripping tightly.
"Oh, did I find it already?" he asked patronizingly, his voice laced with sarcasm, "You must be so sensitive," You could do nothing but whimper and nod, not being able to form words.
"Fuck, do that again," Geto demanded.
You followed his instructions and rocked against him, moaning at the sensation. "Holy shit," Geto gasped, his eyes rolling back as you squeezed his cock.
Gojo watched with wide eyes, his hand slowly stroking his cock as he watched the scene unfold before him. "How does she feel?" Gojo asked with a chuckle. He already knew the answer.
Geto moaned, slowly starting to roll his hips, "Fucking heavenly," You felt a wave of satisfaction wash over you, knowing that Geto was enjoying your pussy just as much as you enjoyed his dick.
"So warm and tight," he added, picking up his pace, "I could fuck her all day,"
"Please," you whimpered, "fuck me all day,"
A satisfied smile crossed Geto's face, and without a word, he started to thrust into you at a steady pace. You gasped, feeling his cock fill you up with each push. Your walls tightened around him, trying to pull him deeper.
"Fuck," Geto groaned, "Such a greedy fucking pussy, doesn't want to let me go."
You whimpered and wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer. His hands grabbed onto your waist and his fingers dug into the plush flesh. The room filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, and your moans and whimpers grew louder and louder.
"Mm, look at her," Gojo cooed, "she's so fucking desperate."
"Mhm" you breathed out nodding and looking up at Geto, who was watching your every move. He looked absolutely breathtaking. His hair was a mess, his face was flushed, and his eyes were filled with desire. The sight of him looking down at you like that made your heartbeat quicken.
"You love having my cock buried deep inside of you, don't you?" he asked.
You nodded vigorously, unable to form any words, but the way your hips met his every thrust and the sounds that came out of you told him all he needed to know.
"Oh?" Geto smirked, "You need more? Fucking impatient little slut- You need me to fuck you harder?"
"Yes, please, please, please," you begged, your head falling back against the pillow.
"Such a good girl," he praised, his hand moving to rest on your lower stomach, "such a polite little whore for my cock."
He pushed lightly onto your abdomen while fucking deep into you. The pressure from his hand was foreign and had you squirming and whimpering, biting your lip to hold in your cries of pleasure.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, there! There!" You screamed, "Please, don't stop!"
Geto smirked and leaned forward, "Look at me," he demanded, his voice firm.
Your eyes shot open, not even realizing they had been closed. You stared up at him and his lust filled eyes, a look you had never seen before on his face. The sight made you instantly moan and your eyes began to roll back involuntarily.
"Keep your eyes on me," he commanded, emphasizing each word with a hard thrust.
Your jaw fell slack, and a strangled moan slipped past your lips as pleasure coursed through your veins. "S- sorry," you stuttered.
Gojo groaned and his fist picked up pace, jerking his dick in tandem with Geto's movements. "It's okay, baby, you're doing so good," he whispered, leaning forward and brushing the hair out of your face, "so good for us."
Geto's pace continued and the heat in the pit of your stomach began to build dangerously fast. "Fuck, Sugu- I- I-" you stuttered, struggling to form a coherent sentence.
"You're so close already, aren't you?" He cooed, his eyes not leaving yours.
You nodded, and a loud whine slipped past your lips as Geto's hips started to pick up speed. "Fuck," he groaned, "fuck, you're squeezing me so good, baby,"
"Gonna- Gonna cum," you managed to say through heavy breaths and muffled moans.
In response, the hand on your stomach pushed slightly deeper, and that's what threw you over the edge. The pressure had your toes curling and your back arching upwards followed by a strangled scream on your lips as you came hard.
Your vision went white, and a ringing filled your ears.
"Oh, fuck," Gojo groaned, watching your legs shake and your face display your ecstasy.
"Shit," Geto groaned, "keep cumming for me, baby, just like that- fuck!"
Gojo smirked and leaned back, admiring his two lovers. "God, the two of you are so fucking hot," he said, his hand working furiously to match the pace that Geto was now setting.
You could barely register what he said, too overwhelmed by the waves of pleasure crashing through your body. The warmth from deep in your core had overflowed, somehow finding its release- and soaking everything around you in the process.
Geto moaned loudly and looked down at your pussy, Gojo eyes followed, widening and jaw dropping.
"Holy shit," Gojo breathed out, "She's squirting," he said in awe, "fuck- I didn't even know she could do that."
Your juices were flowing freely, coating Geto's cock, balls, and the bed beneath you in a thick layer. It was as if a flood gate had opened and your arousal was pouring out of you.
"Oh, god, oh, god," Geto repeated, "you're squirting on my cock," he groaned and picked up his pace, fucking you through your orgasm, "so good, fuck- So fucking perfect."
Your mind was blank, all you could do was babble and moan, letting Geto fuck you as you rode out the last waves of your orgasm.
"Fuck," Geto growled, his hips began to stutter. "Go on, Suguru," Gojo urged, nearing his own climax, "cum in her."
Geto looked down at you, the glazed over expression on your face was enough to send him over the edge. With a final thrust he bottomed out and painted your walls with his seed, the sensation pulling a long moan from both of your lips.
You could feel his warmth spill into you, filling you up and coating your walls, and causing a brain numbing tingle to run up your spine.
Gojo wasn't far behind, his own cum coating his hand and abdomen. He pumped his shaft as the last few drops landed on his stomach. "Holy shit," he breathed out, leaning back and letting the orgasm wash over him.
"Fuck," Geto groaned, his head dropping to the crook of your neck. Both of you were completely spent, not even bothering to move or say a word. The only sounds in the room were the heavy breathing and racing heartbeats.
You could feel Geto's warm breath against your skin as he took a few deep breaths. You brought a hand up and gently ran it through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly.
The gesture was simple, but it made his heart melt, grounding him from the high he just experienced.
"That was fucking hot," Gojo praised, "You're both so fucking sexy. I loved seeing you two together."
"So good, my beautiful, perfect, angel," he continued, placing kisses on your forehead and cheek, "you did so well,"
You turned to him and smiled lazily, enjoying the praise. Geto looked up and admired your blissed out expression. "You look so pretty like this, sweetheart," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek, "so gorgeous."
You leaned into his touch and hummed, your eyes fluttering, half lidded in tranquility.
Gojo chuckled and placed a kiss on your temple, "Don't get too comfortable, princess, we still need to clean up."
"I'm not leaving this bed," you mumbled, closing your eyes completely and nuzzling into the pillow.
"You're so spoiled," he chuckled and turned to his friend, "Help me out here, man."
"Sorry, baby," Geto apologized, kissing your nose, "he's right, we need to get you cleaned up," You groaned and nodded, accepting defeat. Geto slowly pulled out and stood up.
"Come here, my sweet, precious, girl," Gojo said, lifting you off the bed, bridal style, "Let's go take care of you."
You giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck. "M'kay," you replied, resting your head on his chest. Gojo carried you into the bathroom, and Geto followed closely behind. He sat you down on the toilet and you leaned against the wall, closing your eyes.
Once Geto entered, he turned on the bath faucet and waited for the water to warm.
"Do you wanna use a bath bomb, princess?" Gojo offered, reaching into the cabinet under the sink. "Ooh yes, please," you nodded opening your eyes with a tired smile on your lips.
A bright grin spread across Gojo's face from seeing you perk up, "Okay!" He exclaimed, grabbing one of your favorites and tossing it into the bath.
The sweet smell of citrus quickly filled the air, and the sight of the bubble bath and colorful fizzies had you feeling relaxed like never before.
Geto shut the water off and walked over to you. He knelt down and cupped your cheek, his thumb running over the soft skin. "How are you feeling, sweet girl?" He asked, a small smile on his lips.
You hummed and leaned into his touch, "Amazing," you replied.
He chuckled and kissed your forehead, "Good."
After all of the residue made its way out of you, you cleaned up and Gojo lifted you into the bath. He settled in behind you, wrapping his arms around you, and pulling you back to his chest.
"Is the temperature okay, princess?" Geto asked, sitting in the opposite side of the tub.
You hummed, closing your eyes and resting your head on Gojo's chest. "Perfect,"
"Good, we want you to be comfortable," Geto said, smiling.
"Thank you," you mumbled, snuggling into Gojo's chest.
It was a little crammed and you guys probably should have showered beforehand, but in that moment it was perfect and everything you could ever need.
The three of you had become comfortable and content.
As if that's how things had always been
Gojo was playing with the bubbles and making shapes with them on top of your head, while Geto was helping to wash the sweat off of your skin, his fingertips running gently along the curves of your body.
It felt so normal and domestic, and that's exactly what you had always wanted.
"So, how does this feel?" Gojo asked, reaching behind him to grab a loofah, "Is it weird? Being the meat in a Gojo and Geto sandwich?"
You choked on your breath and your eyes shot open, "Ew! It wasn't weird until you said that! Gross," you said, giggling and shaking your head.
"Yeah, Satoru, why'd you have to word it like that?" Geto asked, chuckling and chastising his friend.
"Oh, come on, don't be like that. It was funny!" Gojo laughed, running the loofah across your back, "Now answer the question."
"No, it doesn't feel weird," you replied, a smile on your lips, "I mean, yeah, we haven't done a lot yet, but I'm happy, and I like being with both of you."
"Yeah," Gojo agreed, "it's different, obviously, but, I'm glad it's the three of us. I love the dynamic, it feels like... home. Like the three of us were always meant to be together. Me and my two favorite people!" He threw his arms around your neck, his hands falling just above your chest.
You looked at Geto and he had the most genuine, loving smile on his face. "I couldn't agree more," he said, reaching out to take your hand in his. His hand was warm and comforting, and the way his thumb was rubbing circles into the skin had a warm tingle running up your arm.
Gojo was right, it did feel like home.
A warm, safe, comforting, home.
It was a strange situation, one that you never would have imagined yourself in. But at the same time you knew that the three of you would be able to make it work.
The three of you stayed in the bath for a little while longer, laughing, teasing, and joking, and eventually Gojo and Geto switched places. When the water began to get cold and the bubbles began to disappear, Gojo lifted you out of the bath and brought you back to the bed.
He gently laid you down and dried you off, pressing kisses all over your skin.
Geto emerged from the bathroom and watched the two of you. He could see how much Gojo cared for you, and how you trusted and loved him. It was a sight that made his heart flutter and he could only hope to have that deep of a connection with you one day.
"You're so cute," Gojo cooed, placing the towel over your head and rubbing it gently.
"Toru," you whined, the feeling tickling your scalp, "you're going to make my hair frizzy!"
"Shhh, let me enjoy this," he chuckled, moving the towel and planting a kiss on your forehead, "I love taking care of you, and seeing you so relaxed. Plus, I think your hair is adorable no matter what, and I know Sugu does too,"
Turning to Geto in the doorway, you pouted and tilted your head to Gojo, "Help me out here," you pleaded.
Geto couldn't help but smile. "He's right, sweet girl," he chuckled, walking towards the bed, "I think your hair is gorgeous no matter what," He pulled you into his chest for an embrace, but then scruffled your hair, catching you off guard.
"Hey!" You yelped, pulling away from him and trying to flatten your hair, "not you too!"
They both let out a laugh. "Sorry, baby," Geto apologized, leaning forward and pressing a kiss on the crown of your head.
"Traitor," you mumbled, earning a chuckle from Gojo and Geto.
"I'm gonna get dressed, I'll be right back," Geto said, reluctantly pulling away from the scene, "then, how about I make us a late breakfast?" You nodded and gave him a small smile.
"I knew there was a good reason to keep you around," Gojo teased, earning a slap on the shoulder from Geto before he walked off, "Ouch! Hey!"
Laughing you shook your head at Gojo's dramatic performance of pretending to be hurt by rubbing his shoulder, "I'm so wounded," he joked, flopping onto the bed beside you, "you're gonna have to kiss it better," he winked with a smirk.
"Maybe later," you giggled, giving him a peck on the cheek.
"Fine, fine," he scoffed, rolling his eyes and sitting up.
He smiled as he jumped off the bed and threw on a pair of sweatpants, "Come on, baby," he said, holding a hand out for you, "I'll pick out an outfit for you." You happily accepted and followed him over to your dresser, ready to start your day.
#stsg x reader#goge x reader#gojo smut#gojo satoru smut#gojo x reader smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#jjk smut#jjk x reader smut#jjk gojo satoru#jjk gojo#gojo satoru x you#gojou satoru x reader#satoru gojo smut#satoru gojo x you#gojo x you#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x y/n#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x reader#getou suguru x reader#suguru geto smut#geto smut#geto x reader#suguru x reader#fartfatherwrites#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo x geto x reader#gojo satoru x geto suguru x reader
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mile high club / teagan micah
in which, you and teagan join the mile high club.
warnings; fingering (r receiving), nipple stimulation, dom!teagan, sub!reader, dirty talk, strap-ons (fucking and sucking), breeding kink, praise kink, voyuerism?? i guess??
a short little smut completely inspired by teagan's insta story of her on the flight back to aus which i posted here. i have also clearly never been in a first class airplane pod, so forgive me for giving it too much space x
****
"babe. are you asleep?"
your eyes peeled open to teagan's fingers prodding at your bicep, and you shifted from a position that made your neck stiff and your legs cramp.
"i was," you grumbled, squinting your eyes closed to adjust to the light within the plane, "what's up?"
teagan's fingers danced across your arm, and even though you were wearing one of her thick, fleeced hoodies, you could feel the electricity bouncing from her fingertips.
"hm, nothing," she hummed, "just a bit bored to be honest."
"we've been on this plane two hours, teags," you shifted so that your legs were draped over hers and immediately her hand gripped your thigh. you pulled her hood down and played with the strands of her hair that fell loosely behind her ears, "why don't you try and sleep? or maybe we could watch a movie...? i bought my headphone splitter so we can watch notting hill in peace."
"i don't wanna watch notting hill, babe."
her hand moved up your leg an inch or so, and you sensed you knew what she was getting at but you were in a first class pod on a busy airplane with alanna and mary in the pods surrounding you. there was no way in hell she wanted to do that, was there?
"oh, uh, o-okay," you shifted and reached for your ipad on the table across from you both, "i have, uh, we could watch jumanji, or, uh, i downloaded the new-"
teagan's hand rose higher on your thigh until it was sitting in the crease and you lost your train of thought when her thumb brushed against your clothed clit.
"teagan."
"y.n," she taunted back, "just for five minutes."
"no, teagan, it's too risky."
"because you're going to be too loud? i have ways to shut you up, y'know."
you rolled your eyes and leaned into teagan's touch. it would be nice to just have ten minutes to yourselves, you'd both been so busy with work you were exhausted, and hadn't had sex for a reasonable amount of time.
your lips found hers and her touch was soft, even when her fingers slid under the band of your leggings and her finger pressed against your clit. you pulled the cap from her head and it fell to the floor between her legs, and you pulled her closer as you simultaneously scooched your body closer to hers so it was easier for the both of you.
she pulled your lip between her teeth and now you'd given her the green light there really wasn't much time to waste. you both expected they'd be coming round with refreshments, or possibly even breakfast soon.
"gonna be a good girl and stay quiet for me, darling?"
you nodded against her lips, and when her fingers circled your hole and curled inside you as her thumb circled your clit. your hand stayed wrapped around her neck throughout the entirety of the exchange, lips brushing against hers every so often.
"o...oh, my... t-teagan," you breathed, trying desperately not to make a sound.
"sssh, babe, i know," she kissed your jaw, "feels good, doesn't it? you're so wet and warm."
a moan escaped your lips at teagan's comment, and quickly her free hand moved to your mouth, where she stuck two fingers inside and immediately you let your tongue swirl around her fingertips.
the angle was awkward, yet somehow she managed to hit every spot. your pussy was soaked, and she could already feel your wetness dripping down her knuckles and onto her wrist. she added a third finger and your eyes locked as she telepathically swore you to silence.
she loved the look in your eyes, both of partial fear and desperation. how you looked like a deer in the headlights but still craved her enough to continue.
you shifted in your seat so you were closer to being laid down than you were sat up, and allowed your hands to push up her hoodie just enough. she removed her hand from your mouth and helped, so it was now sitting across her shoulders, where you were greeted by her sports bra.
"no," she whispered sternly, "y/n, don't you dare. you know that makes me - oh."
one of your lips attached around one of her nipples and you suckled on it slowly, and immediately she became like putty in your hands. her fingers worked faster, desperately wishing she could bring you to the edge faster so you wouldn't be sucking on her nipples. it's not that she didn't like it - if anything, she loved it - but it drove her crazy and she sometimes found herself getting out of control at the feeling of your lips all over her chest.
your breathing sped up and your legs spread wider, back arching delicately as you chased your orgasm as quietly as you could. teagan's fingers continued to curl inside of you, her thumb pressing down harder as she circled your clit to amount more pressure, and it quickly got to the point where the pressure got too heavy.
your head spun and your limbs shook as your orgasm washed over you, unable to control the feeling amounting inside of your body. your teeth dug into teagan's nipple and she had to bite down on her bottom lip so she didn't elicit any form of unwanted attention from passengers or staff.
once your orgasm subsided and your head felt floaty, she pushed your head away from her chest and looked at you with an unimpressed look on her face.
"that wasn't very smart, was it, babe, hm?" she pulled her fingers from your lap and you admired your own liquid trickling down her wrist, "because i was just going to finger you every so often during the flight until we got to sydney, but now? i don't know if i can do that," her tongue darted out to lick at the juice now rolling down her forearm, "because you decided to be a whore and take it to the next step by sucking my tits, didn't you? and you know how that makes me feel, darling."
"i-i'm sorry, teagan," you whispered, but she was already pulling the hoodie from your body and pushing down your leggings, "i just thought it would keep me quiet."
she tugged at the front of your bralette and watched as your boobs spilled out. without hesitation, the fingers that were inside of you a mere two minutes prior were now stuffed into your mouth, her lips wrapped around your nipples and her free hand began to rub harsh circles around your clit.
"n-no, t-teagan, you know what happens when you-"
"-not my problem."
she suckled on your nipples as if she were tasting them for the first time, licking her lips and allowing herself to get messy. you choked on her fingers as she pushed them further down your throat, not allowing you the space to breathe, and her fingers continued to rub harshly on your clit.
again, you knew you wouldn't be able to hold off your orgasm, and if teagan was good at one thing, it was bringing on an orgasm quickly. her tongue circled between each nipple and it sent your mind reeling, although you both knew you wanted her to eat you out, but it wasn't happening.
you clenched your eyes shut, once again gagging on her fingers as you thought back on memories of the feeling of her tongue on your clit, and soon you found yourself on the brink of an orgasm. you grabbed at the wrist that was resting on your chin, wanting to let her know your orgasm was approaching, but she knew your body too well. your legs began to shake and your stomach muscles started to tense, and she admired you as your entire body was rocked by your second orgasm in under five minutes.
your juices trickled around her wrist again and she took her sweet time this time around licking her hand clean while you tried to catch your breath with desperation.
"don't tell me you're tired," she hummed, "you haven't even repaid me with a thank you yet."
you whimpered, but moved your body as exhausted as it was, pushing your hoodie back down your body to cover your modesty just in case anybody were to walk past. as you came to, teagan had undone the drawstring of her bottoms and pushed them down her legs, and your eyes widened at the sight before you.
"well...?" she gestured, "are you just going to sit there? or do i have to force a thank you out of you as well?"
"n-no," you croaked, shifting your position. teagan reached past your body and locked the entrance to your pod, although it was probably clear as a bell to the staff and fellow passengers what was going on by now, not to mention that if anybody walked past in a certain lighting, they would undoubtedly see the outline of your backside sticking out in their direction as you sucked her off.
she bunched up your hair as you slid your mouth down her cock, and she shivered at the feeling. your throat had already been coaxed open by her fingers, and so, much to teagan's satisfaction, you had no trouble in accommodating the size of her strap.
you looked over at her, and she was sitting there with her hands on her nipples looking down at you through hooded eyes, and you craved her now more than ever. you would much rather have been eating her out in that moment, however the flight still had twenty hours of airtime, and you knew you'd get your chance later.
one of your hands moved to rest on her knee and one of your hands found her nipple, where you took over touching it, conveniently freeing up a hand of hers.
"fu-uck, baby, that's it. right fuckin' there," she bucked her hips up and you coughed and spluttered around her dick, "throat is almost as good as your pussy."
she reached across your body and circled your hole with her fingers, and when you flinched she smirked. "you want me to fuck you, don't you babe, hm?"
you nodded, still with her dick in your mouth.
"wanna know a secret?"
again, you nodded.
"i'm only gonna let you cum again if you get on top," she pushed the hair from your face, "you think you can do that for me, hm?"
you nodded one final time and she stroked your hair, tapping your cheek and telling you to remove your mouth from her cock. you did as she instructed, and soon enough you were straddling her cock ready to be filled.
she flung your hoodie off of your body and it landed in your seat, your leggings pushed around your ankles. the cabin must've stunk of sex by now, but surely you weren't the only animals on the plane. it must've been a regular occurrence.
as you hovered over her cock, you faced each other and she brought your lips to hers as you slowly sunk down. your moans were muffled by the feeling of her lips on yours and thankfully nobody could hear.
you rocked your hips back and forth in an attempt to adjust to her size but she kissed along your jawline. "we haven't got a lot of time, baby, they'll be bringing out some food soon."
you nodded, and carefully raised and lowered your hips in a slow but stable rhythm. you knew, realistically that this wasn't going to make you cum, and teagan knew that too, but you loved to have at least a little bit of fun, even if you were pressed for time.
"want you to fuck me, teagan."
"like this? baby, you know that's not possible," she pressed a searing hot bite to the side of your boob, "unless, of course, you want everyone on this cabin knowing exactly how much of a slut you are for my dick. it's your choice, really."
you pouted when she swatted your hand away from your clit, realistically leaving you only one option.
"yes, teagan, like this," you nuzzled into her neck and she groaned when you bit down into it, sucking at the skin, "i want you to make me cum again."
she smirked, having you exactly where she wanted you. her hands hooked under your bum and she slowly started to raise her hips to meet your bounce, which made you gasp.
"don't tell me you've lost your manners."
"please, teagan."
"please, what?"
you rolled your eyes and she pinched your bum. "you know what."
she smirked again, sucking a nipple into her mouth and you fought off an annoyed huff. "i'm not going to do it until you tell me what you want me to do, darling."
"i want you to fuck me, teagan, right here, right now," your voice was low, but loud enough for everyone to hear all at the same time, "i want you to make me cum again. please."
with that, she was satisfied, and took no time doing exactly that. your arms braced around her head and your fingers interlocked at the back of her head, meaning your chest was pressed right up against her face which made you both even more desperate than before.
"o-oh... oh fu-uck, t-teagan," you tried to be quiet, but it was defenseless, your voice continuously breaking and desperately needing some form of relief, "your dick is so... oh, fuck."
she smirked against your skin and her teeth sunk into the inside of your boob as you fought off a continuous string of moans. your skin was slapping together and it was undoubtedly all anybody throughout the entire plane could hear, but you'd cross that bridge when you came to it.
your pussy clenched around her dick and she knew you wouldn't last much longer. "can't believe you want me to fill you up in public," she teased, knowing it would get you there quicker, "on a plane full of people, including my friends, you want me to fill you up with my cum, don't you?"
"y-yes," you whimpered, "t-teagan, please i'm desperate."
one of her hands sunk down between you and she circled your clit, and immediately you began to clench uncontrollably.
"i know you do, darling, you're such a good little girl, aren't you? c'mon, baby, cum for me and i'll fill you up."
your eyes clenched shut and you focused on the feeling of being full and having teagan's fingers on your clit, and within a matter of minutes you were falling apart on top of her. teagan's hand came over your mouth to cover the unholy moan that left it, and she kept her promise and filled you up almost straight away, milking her dick of every last drop as she groaned.
your body fell limp on top of her, and you dreaded the walk of shame to the bathroom in order to clean yourself up, and you toyed with the idea of just throwing a blanket over you and laying there until you fell asleep, but you didn't want to give the flight attendant a heart attack.
"do we have to go and do the walk of shame through the cabin?" you questioned softly after a few minutes, and she couldn't help but laugh.
"you're the one full of cum, darling. not me."
"i know, but you have to come with me, by default," you kissed her lips softly, "i'll make sure it's worth your while."
she smirked and raised an eyebrow, which made you smile immediately. "i'll come with you to the bathroom, and then once we've eaten and had an hours sleep, you can eat me out all you want, darling. that's a promise."
"excellent," you hummed, "then the rest of the cabin'll really hate us."
#teagan micah#woso#woso x reader#woso fic#woso fanfic#woso smut#woso fluff#woso one shot#woso fanfics#woso community#auswnt#teagan micah x reader#teagan micah smut
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im gonna start a fight; and, at the same time, i need you to take this in the most good-faith way possible, but:
videos that involve body-checking and intentionally (and uncritically) show a mealplan of an unhealthy number of calories are just a revamped version of pro-ana food diaries.
and yeah, i know there's arguments. i address some of them under the cut. but at the end of the day, we're just coming back to romanticizing mental illness; we've just found a better platform for it.
this is already something we've done. we knew it was wrong and tried to stop it. and tbh. it just wasn't enough.
there are people who argue "well, what if you have an eating disorder, you can't help it if you don't eat!" except that as someone with an ED; we are not infants. we know what we're doing. part of having an ED is that you are like, maybe too self-aware. even if we can't help our own food choices, we don't need to fucking romanticize the disorder - something we've been warning you about since 2013. there are hours of setup, filming, and editing that go into these videos. they do not happen to fall into place randomly. there is a reason they are pieced together to be beautiful, bright, inspiring.
there's this woman who pretty much only posts daily plans under a normal amount of calories, and everyone defends her saying but it's better than nothing! and i'm like. except she opens those with images of her showing off her body and provides no context in the video or caption that suggests that she believes what she's doing is unhealthy. she has hundreds of thousands of followers on a platform designed for young kids and teens. i refuse to believe that by accident her content just happens to be cheery advice on "healthy" versions of starving.
for any other symptom of mental illness, we would be incredibly enraged by this kind of placid acceptance of a "tips and tricks" fast-start guide. imagine if people posted pink & pretty videos saying "best places to cut yourself" as if it was a fucking storytime. we, as a society, are so fucking fatphobic that we would rather accept blatantly harmful displays of self harm than admit that we are obsessed with a hyper-thin body type.
i am not suggesting someone never talks about their disorder. i talk about mine. actually, it's a plot point in my book.
here's the difference: i recognize it's a fucking mental illness. i am very careful to never mention a specific weight, eating pattern, or calorie plan. i always make sure to position it as something that ruined my fucking life. i do not put cheery music in the background and hearts and sparkles over my worst moments. i do not film it in bright light. i do not start each passage with an image of a thin body followed by "here's how to look like her."
eating disorders should not be framed as aspirational. and the problem is that society worships the "after" image, so long as you don't get too sick. there is a reason so many people who quit being "influencers" will later admit - i wasn't eating well that whole time; an obsession with food was completely destroying my life.
we let any uncredited, uncertified person write the most backwards, fucked up shit about how to get the body you desire! because the underlying, secret belief is: well, at least they're thin! and the real thing that fucking gets me each time - they make fucking money off of it. their irresponsibility and societal harm literally pays off for them.
"why do you care so much." "don't like it don't look." "so what if people experiment with new ways of thinking of food?"
thank you for asking. we're about to get extremely personal. it's because when i was 18 i discovered "thinspiration"/"thinspo." and it absolutely influenced, shaped, and codified my pre-existing eating disorder. i went from having some troubling habits and traits to being incredibly unwell within what felt like a matter of days. there were actual pages designed to train me on how to have an ED correctly. it was all so suddenly easy. i was sick; and the nature of the illness meant - i wanted to be sicker.
it takes an average of 7 years for a person to fully recover. i know this personally - even now, 10 years from the worst of it, i still fucking struggle. i am so much happier now and i eat what i want and i literally don't think about food at all (19 year old me would shudder) and yet - i still fucking know the calories of plain toast with butter.
an eating disorder is one of the deadliest types of mental illness. over 1 in 4 people with an ED will attempt suicide.
and i'm sorry. i just do not see the exchange rate of "high rate of engagement" versus "the value of a human life."
#and there's something else in there about like ....#tbh once i got over something like 1k followers#i stopped being specific about my ED for a REASON.#yes on ur personal locked blog that u use like a diary go ahead etc#but we are OBVIOUSLY not talking about that. we're talking about the sheer NUMBER of people i could be talking about#in that one paragraph. that you and i probably were thinking about 2 different influencers#bc they get to say that they're just posting FITNESS and if it's FITNESS it's OKAY and im like#jesus christ lord almighty#every person in recovery from an ED: this is incredibly dangerous holy shit do you know how much this would have triggered me#each of these ppl: how dare you!!!!!!!!! i am only harming those who WANT to engage with my content!!!!!#their followers: leave them alone !!! they can't help that they make an hours-long choice to frame their disorder as if it was#fucking cottagecore !!!!#like girlie this person needs THERAPY#again! i didn't even have that large of a following before i IMMEDIATELY deleted any specific mention of calories food etc#bc i recognize responsibility and i didnt EVER want to even ACCIDENTALLY encourage this#and im not even GETTING PAID FOR THIS!!!#aND THEY ARE!!!#something something something they know this content makes them money#they don't give a SHIT about u babe
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[intro] new notification!
msby!atsumu x reader || w/c: 560
Atsumu discovers that the only thing worse than online dating, is dating advice online.
a/n: oh look at that, another atsumu fic!! this one is less stressful for me though. its pretty short, with a cute little plot that won't cause me planning paralysis. making edits for atsumu is always so fun <3 i hope you'll read it!!
[chapter 1->]
r/relationship_advice • 3 hours ago
u/fattytuna95
I want to ask out my twin brother's girlfriend.
It's not as bad as it sounds. She's not really his girlfriend.
I'll try to explain.
We're colleagues, sort of. (Me and her— I'd rather starve to death than work for my brother.)
Last month, someone took a picture of us leaving the office. I was only walking her to her car but the person who took the picture wanted to imply that we were dating.
And that wouldn't have been an easy rumour for her to handle, so I got my brother (identical twin) to post a picture with her on his socials.
Obviously, just one picture wouldn't work to convince anyone, so they've been meeting up a couple times a week (they have similar interests, so they were friends already) to be seen together.
Now here's the issue— I never saw her like that before, and I thought it was just fucking annoying to watch people be lovey dovey, fake or not... but one of my other colleagues said it sounded like I was jealous.
And fuck, I am.
Do you think she'd be mad if I asked her out? I reacted pretty badly to the original picture. And I'm worried my brother likes her for real (those photos they're posting are kind of convincing...)
Edit: for everyone asking, no, I can't ask my brother. he'll know why, and if he really does like her I don't want to mess with it. and if he doesn't he won't let me hear the fucking end of it. i can hear the best man speech already.
↑ 25 ↓ •••
u/unicornpoodle • 2 hours ago
lol dude (I'm assuming you're a dude, unless you're a girl who unfortunately is built exactly like your brother) are you sure you like her and aren't just jealous of your brother being happy? fake or not
↑ 50 ↓ •••
u/fattytuna95 • 2 hours ago
yeah i'm sure. I cut out a picture of one of my teammates and pasted it over his ugly mug and it made me even angrier.
↑ 35 ↓ •••
u/msbygirlie_13 • 2 hours ago
Oh hey!! I recognise you from the atsumu miya subreddit!! That's so cool you have a twin just like him!! And his brother got a gf recently too!!! (I think they're fr tho lol.)
Okay hmmm this is a tough one. wdym when yuo said 'reacted badly'??? and what was so bad about the rumour in the first place if it's an option for you now???? this is kinda weird ngl.
↑ 42 ↓ •••
u/fattytuna95 • 2 hours ago
do you really they're the real deal???
I kind of laughed. And now that I look back at it, I think I might have looked way too eager to put it out there that we weren't dating. like I was disgusted or something. :( I wasn't, I just didn't want her to have any trouble. :( :(
I'm sorry, I can't explain the situation any more for privacy reasons.
↑ 20 ↓ •••
u/guiltyassassin_ • 1 hour ago
well you don't have to talk to either of them... you said someone took the original photo. maybe they're still stalking?? ask them what they think?
lmfao you guys are either celebrities or highschoolers with this kinda drama
(also you keep calling your brother ugly, but then say you guys are identical? huh????)
↑ 5 ↓ •••
u/fattytuna95 • 55 minutes ago
This is kind of an insane idea, but it does make sense. Maybe I'll do it.
(and you wouldn't get it.)
↑ 2 ↓ •••
first chapter tomorrow! please like/reblog/reply/send me an ask if you enjoyed it :) it keeps me going lol
[my other fics->]
divider: @/cafekitsune
#atsumu miya x reader#miya atsumu x reader#atsumu x reader#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#fluff#my fic
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Warning ya'll this is gonna be a long post. But please join my descent into insanity, as I deep dive into the vague wormhole that is the durge betrayal pre bg3 timeline.
Before we start, it’ll help if you have context around the faerun calendar. There are twelve months in total, each having exactly 30 days. Additionally, weeks don’t exist in faerun. Rather months get broken down into chunks of time called tendays, which you guessed is literally just ten days. If that was too straight forward for you, don’t worry, they add in five extra days to the calendar that fall outside of the months (ngl I still have no idea where these are located) to make the full year 365 days.
At the beginning of the game, the nautiloid crash occurs at 20 Eleasis. Which means, the game starts in the middle of summer. Obviously, the way you play the game is going to influence the speed of events, but for my playthrough I reached moonrise towers around 12 elient (total time being 22 days). When you get to moonrise, in Bathazar’s chamber you can find his journal that explains that Kressa (the crazy necromancer chick) managed to keep durge alive. This entry is dated “two tenday ago”. But in game, that makes no sense because we know that the nautiloid should have crashed around that point. So either Balthazar doesn’t understand how the Faerun calendar works (I mean same, my guy) or we have to change our frame of reference. I think its more likely that the implied frame of reference is the start of the game, 20 Eleasis (since the developers can’t control how fast the player goes).
If true, durge was saved by Kressa around 1 Eleasis. Her vivisections took place after this in the following days. However, durge is taken away before the end of the following tendays (at least before 10 Eleasis).
Now when you talk to Kressa in the basement of moonrise, she states that she found durge only hours after they had been given the tadpole.
In the fight with Orin, she states that when she attacked durge she carved out a hole for the worm (ignore the Half-Elf part, that's just from the moment Orin turns into durge during the pre-fight convo).
The part that we're missing is when specifically the tadpole was inserted into durge. But given how the game describes just how utterly fucked durge was, there's a high likelyhood that the tadpole was given to durge moments after their fight. Which if true, places Orin's betrayal at 1 Eleasis. Giving us twenty days till the start of the game.
The piece that threw me for a bit was this piece of the narrator's dialogue when durge examines the pod, stating that durge had no idea how much time had passed.
But the blood in the pod is still fresh enough that Astarion is able to ID it as durge & in another dialogue choice if you examine the blood further the narrator states the blood hasn't been there long enough to rot.
I think this dialogue is more explaining that durge is actively being tortured by Kressa so time feels unending (kressa being the one who put them in the pod to begin with).
I've seen in other posts that Gortash's draft memoir explains that Orin's betrayal occurred during or just around the crowning of the brain (I don't have a screenshot of that unfortunately). But we have to take that with a grain of salt because Gortash is the definition of an unreliable narrator.
Personally, I don't think he's lying though. Orin's betrayal occurred in moonrise and there's really no other reason that Orin and durge would be in moonrise that the game has provided. Not to mention, the warden explains the last time that durge was in moonrise, they never left.
I don't think durge came to moonrise more then once given the fact that the warden, who had clearly been there a while, had no clue who they were. I find it hard to believe their identity would be kept under wraps had they been at moonrise multiple times. Employees have to gossip about something.
I think its likely that Ketheric, Gortash, and Durge tamed the brain in the days leading up to 1 Eleasis (like ~20 to 30 Flamerule).
In summary, the dead three had a Phineas and Ferb summer vacation by deciding to create the cult of the absolute.
And yes if you are wondering this is how I look now.
#the durge timeline makes me want to scream sometimes#the dark urge#durge#bg3#baldur’s gate 3#enver gortash#orin#kressa bonedaughter#balthazar#durgetash
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RANT. (sturntok.)
Yall. Im so mad. Sturntok pisses me the fuck off to the point it isn't even funny anymore. This might be messy, so bare with me.
Tara. Why the fuck is everyone pressed about Tara hanging out with the triplet, specifically matt and Chris. Yall are acting as if it was only two of them, like they're on a date. They were with fucking I don't know, 8 other people? Like why does Sturntok care who they hangout with? Did you not learn from elementary school to mind your bees wax, or business? You're probably 15. They're literally 5 years older than you. There is no way, in any universe they're gonna date you girl. ALSO TO SHIT ON TARA?? LIKE GIRL. FIND SOMEONE ELSE TO SHIT ON CUZ HOMEGIRL DONT CARE. SHE DONT CARE. SHE IS STRIVING AND LIVING LIFE LIKE YOU SHOULD GIRL. Live life and don't care. You'll probably have a positive outcome. No cuz y'all know how Chris owns the Saturn necklace thing? Its vivienne underwood. It's less than 20 bucks on Amazon. Also when was the last time y'all saw Chris wearing that necklace girl. Also there's a post from like months, or I think a year ago of Tara wearing the same necklace. These fucking tiktok girls are so annoying. Like we get it, everyone wants to be Tara. (she's my gf.)
Podcast. I saw a bunch of btiches shit on the podcast. Like cmon. THEY ARE PRODUCING AN HOUR LONG VIDEO FOR YALL EVERY WEEK. Mfs are burnt out, you're lucky that they even produce content for you ungreatful hoes. Like lwk, I'd rather have them remove Wednesday videos. I remember when they first started their podcast that they were really excited to start and stuff. I also remember, I believe it was their earlier vlogs. When they were still living in Boston and they haven't like went to LA yet, they were talking about turning their basement into a podcast room. Like cmon. This is something they've been wanting to do and you hoes just don't appreciate anything. Like have y'all's mama's not been pissed at y'all for not appreciating her food. Live life positive and not negative tf. But ofc, I respect their decision.
Intro. Yall just love to shit on everyone. Ruining the party. Sturntok reminds me of the kids-the class "clowns" who would be so shitty to the teacher for no reason and would ruin fun things for everyone. Like guys, I think we should all as a community bully Sturntok. It requires a bit more bullying, just to knock some sense into their heads. Anyways, back to what I was ranting about. I loved their new intro. its a new era. A new them. Change. Is. Fucking. hard. I understand that you love the teens from Boston running around making fools of themselves. Me too, I shall admit it. But in order to get sponsorships, to get the little paring things. (For example, them sponsoring Celsius, even becoming the youtooz thing.) Like they gotta act more professional.
Change. This tied in with the last few things. CHANGE IS HARD. CHANGE IS A DIFFICULT THING. But how the fuck are you gonna live life, and enjoy life when your stuck on one thing forever. Change is needed for growth, and for learning. Like guys, THEYRE 20. I think that's something y'all forget. They aren't teenagers anymore. Its kinda like how when everyone went into middle school and started to not like kiddy things when you still liked kiddy things. When I was in middle school I still like to play with Legos, draw, watch anime. Until I hit 7th grade, aka everyone's downfall. I still enjoy some of those things today but I changed because people in middle school stopped like those things and its embarrassing (well for me at least) to show up in school with anime shirts cuz I'm getting older. Thats what they're feeling I guess. Again, theyre 20 now.
Crazy ass mfs. Crazy, as in them soft mf's on sturntok. Also what pisses me off more is that they're coming here on tumblr. Like no, I know your soft ass belongs on Wattpad bffr. I have a long rant about this one, so bare with me again. They are so so so so so SOOOOO sensitive about the "spicy edits." Sometimes the fucking video frame isn't even about something "spicy" aka- them being shirtless, video frame near their crotch. It was when there was a song about sex. How soft can you be. Most songs these days are about sex. Some songs y'all probably didn't know about was about sex. (cake by the ocean for example.) LIKE LETS ME FOR REAL. MOST SONGS ARE ABOUT SEX. Also with the tiktok audios being removed like cmon. Not everything is about sunshine and rainbows. I remember I commented on a Chris edit and I was like.
"I need this man in my life. He's so hot."
"you're fucking gross. He's a human being and do you know how grossed out he would be if he saw that you said this? (bullshitbullshit,morebullshitandstupidness.)"
Yeah, keeping fucking running your mouth. THIS TIKTOK HAS LIKE 4K VIEWS. DO YOU WANNA KNOW HOW MUCH FUCKING FOLLOWERS THE TRIPLETS HAVE? YEAH. THAT'S NOT EVEN A QUARTER OF WHAT THEY HAVE. THIS VIDEO HAS 1K COMMENTS. ARE THEY FUCKING HUNTING ME DOWN?? MY COMMENT HAS 3 LIKES. WHY WOULD THEY CARE TO FUCKING CHECK GIRL. ITS ALSO TELLING THE FUCKING PERSON WHO EDITED THIS THAT THIS EDIT WAS FIRE AND THAT THEY MADE THE EDIT HELLA GOOD. UR FUCKING LUCKY I KEPT MY ANGER TO MYSELF CUZ OH GIRL. I WOULD SUCKER PUNCH YOU. You know whats also funny? They're the same people who will be pissed with when they see matt or Chris with a female. Like girl. You're calling me fucking gross? Do you think how much more worse that is than my comment? You ruin friendships. OG sturniolo fans know that they've been friends with girls. If you genuinely care, yall would know that nick made most of matt and chris' friends. Meaning most of them were females. SO OBVIOUSLY THEYRE GONNA HAVE GIRL FRIENDS. I remember watching the Zach sang pod when nick was on and he explained that matt usually doesn't make the friends. Theres a joke where matt says "I'm gonna make a friend that wasn't originally nick's friends." smth like that. Anyways, off topic. Just because they are seen with a girl, doesn't mean they are fucking dating them. Like shut the fuck up. please. Respectfully shut the fuck because I'm a nice person. Also Chris gives off major virgin vibes lets bffr.
Madi. Yall hate so bad on Madi and its fucking grossing me out. Why do you have to ship her with matt and chris??? Literally to the point they can't even put her in photo dumps or videos. You just gotta ruin it for everyone, huh? shes fucking gorgeous, and she's so funny in videos. Plus, when she does talk shes hillarious. She literally reminds me of Matt. She doesn't fucking talk much because she is more of a listener.. Like guys bffr. How can you hate her when she barley spoke in videos. Like respectfully, shut the fuck up. Yall just jealous shes pretty.
Calling Nick fine. I also hate them mfs who are always running their mouth about girls calling Nick fine. Lets bffr. Y'all didn't think a gay guy is fine? I'm sure you've had a crush on one gay person before. And if you haven't trust me. You will. I had a crush on my gay friend in 8th grade. I feel like its a canon even in every girl's life. anyways, I hate when girls will be scared to call nick hot.
"Nick is so fine. But like as a cool guy friend way. Please don't attack me."
POOR GIRL BELIEVES SHE IS GONNA BE ATTACKED IF SHE CALLS A GAY MAN FINE. Sturntok leave her the fuck alone. He's hot as fucking and I will kill civilians if I'm not given more nick edits. He's so fine. Literally the hottest triplet.
If u made it here thanks. There was shit on my chest that I really needed to let out. What have we learned today?
Sturntok can suck my fucking dick.
Thanks goodbye.
Me to Sturntok :
#kaceythecrunchspeaks#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo#sturniolo triplets x reader#chris sturniolo smut#madi filipowicz#tara yummy#rant post#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo imagine#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x you
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paint the town red - part eleven
YOU AND ME WE'D BE A BIG CONVERSATION
series masterlist
SUMMER BREAK 2024
tony stark i expect every single one of you at the lake house for the next few weeks.
bianca stark-potts i can't. sorry dad.
tony stark you can't? what do you mean you can't? you don't have work for the next few weeks.
bianca stark-potts i have plans
tony stark WITH FUCKING WHO?
bianca stark-potts with my boyfriend
may parker oh how exciting! where are you going?
bianca stark-potts i'm not saying because my dad will literally track me down.
pepper potts have fun
james rhodes use protection!
harley keener and that is the sound of tony fainting.
peter parker and that other sound was tony's unholy screeching.
biancastark_potts and charles_leclerc have posted new stories
amore mio (my love)
something about her looking at the view but i'm looking at her
liked by harryosborn, charles_leclerc, katebishop and others
biancastark_potts ¿qué horas son, mi corazón?
comments have been restricted by user
katebishop someone tell the winch to be gone!
samwilson WHO IS HE STARK-POTTS?
peterbparker listen, i'm not saying the old man is spiraling but the old man is spiraling
↳ biancastark_potts oh i know he is, harley is sending me a hour by hour update on him. happy is also complaining.
lilymhe it's 5:39 pm in new york!
↳ biancastark-potts thank you corazón!
yelenabelova i love knowing something stark doesn't.
tonystark WHERE ARE YOU?!
↳ biancastark_potts here, there, everywhere.
↳ tonystark THAT'S NOT AN ANSWER!
steverogers bianca, why is your father trying to track you down at the tower?
↳ biancastark_potts i'm on vacation and he wants to know where i am.
↳ tonystark SHE'S WITH A BOY STEVEN! A BOY!
↳ steverogers she's a fully grown woman anthony. not everyone is harry.
america_chavez the wicked witch of the west is here? someone tell him to fuck off
wandamaximoff having fun?
↳ biancastark_potts yeah
↳ wandamaximoff good. if someone breaks into his apartment, it wasn't us.
↳ biancastark_potts he says it's all good. it's finally clean.
joaquintorres nice apartment, it's not yours.
↳ biancastark_potts shut your trap torres.
↳ joaquintorres TELL ME WHO IT IS!!!
do you have time to talk soon?
i'm out of the country and if i was in the country, the answer would still be no.
we have nothing to talk about.
don't be like that b, i still love you.
this is exhausting. we are never ever getting back together. like ever.
did you just fucking reply with taylor swift lyrics?
i did.
and i have a boyfriend so please leave me alone.
biancastark_potts and charles_leclerc have posted new stories
told him the last one only gave me flowers on anniversaries and he said, "that is not acceptable. you should be given flowers all the time, for no reason."
🎾🎾
kate bishop where's my monegasque man to sweep me off my feet and buy me flowers for no reason??
yelena belova that is gross. who needs love?
kate bishop we get it, you're allergic to love.
yelena belova i just do not see the point in it. all i need is my dog and i am happy.
maria hill i have to say it, this one is so much better than the last one.
wanda maximoff have you told him about harry?
bianca stark-potts i did, we talked about. it in hungary, when he found out about him.
america chavez she's in looove. she's literally playing paddle with him
natasha romanoff who are you and what have you done to the bianca we all know? you hate sports
bianca stark-potts i don't like tennis or baseball. they're boring sports. i can enjoy soccer or football. but i hate participating in sports.
bianca stark-potts he also told me, "i have to train somehow" and i knew andrea would be on my ass if this man didn't do some training
hope van dyne he bought you flowers? for no reason?
bianca stark-potts yup. he disappeared for like 20 minutes and when he came back he was holding a bouquet of tulips in his hand.
kate bishop again where's my monegasque man??
bianca stark-potts he has a brother??
kate bishop he doesn't seem like my type.
pepper potts i'm glad you're happy bianca.
bianca stark-potts thanks mom!!
bianca stark-potts by the way, he says hello!
bianca stark-potts and he said that if nat and wanda break into his apartment to knock, his brother is staying over because his apartment got flooded.
natasha romanoff but where's the fun in that?
bianca stark-potts "i'd rather not explain to my mum that my brother died of a heart attack because black widow and the scarlet witch broke into my apartment because i'm dating you" - silly vroom man
wanda maximoff we'll set off the home alarm on purpose as a warning.
bianca stark-potts "that works! thank you! and if my brother gets scared please send a picture of his face. i need new blackmail material." - silly vroom man
america chavez typical sibling move.
yelena belova HOW WOULD YOU KNOW?! YOU DON'T HAVE SIBLINGS?
america chavez I HAVE TO SHARE A FLOOR WITH ELI, KATE, AND THE OTHERS WHEN THEY'RE OVER! I LIVE A FLOOR BELOW PETER AND HARLEY! I KNOW THE WAY THAT SHIT WORKS!
george russell you dragged her into a paddle game??
charles leclerc i didn't drag her george.
alex albon he has to train somehow george. can't you see he's too busy wooing a stark-potts?
lando norris WHAT THE FUCK DOES HE NEED TO TRAIN FOR? HE'S LITERALLY 100 POINTS AHEAD OF US ALL?
carlos sainz wrong. he's 73 points ahead of me.
max verstappen is this what you guys felt with me last year?
pierre gasly 100%
yuki tsnuoda absolutely
oscar piastri totally.
daniel ricciardo yes.
max verstappen you only drove like 6 races??
daniel ricciardo i wanted to be included maxie!
pierre gasly he's in looove!!
charles leclerc shut up?
oscar piastri he bought her flowers. i saw the instagram story.
lando norris STAND UP CHARLES!!
george russell and i thought alex was the biggest simp. turns out it was charles.
logan sargeant oh come on, this guy had the worst year of his career last year, let him have this.
charles leclerc thank you logan!
max verstappen then tell him to stop flirting with me??
yuki tsunoda that is like asking me to stop loving food. it is impossible.
carlos sainz no one will ever love anything as much as yuki loves food
tony stark hey, how y'all doin?
bianca stark-potts get off my dad's phone samuel.
tony stark WHO THE FUCK IS HE??
carlos sainz oh boy can't wait until they find out.
tony stark TELL US WHAT YOU KNOW SAINZ!!
isaiah atkins oh my god, when will my nightmare end??
peter parker NEVER BITCH!!
charles leclerc you should've never taken the job then?
isaiah atkins yeah, you would like that wouldn't you?
charles leclerc oh fuck you.
harley keener your girlfriend does that enough for you.
tony stark LECLERC HAS A GIRLFRIEND??
peter parker SINCE WHEN DOES LORD PERCEVAL HAVE A GIRLFRIEND??
harley keener have neither of you seen his stories?? he's been with a girl all break??
tony stark bianca come home! the children (america, mj, kate and me) miss you!
bianca stark-potts i literally hate you so much samuel.
sebastian vettel i can't wait until this exact text bites all of you in the ass
ollie bearman you're included seb. we ALL know.
tony stark know what?? what am i missing?
arthur leclerc ignore him. he's in summer break mode still.
ollie bearman your brother is literally a better liar than you.
NETHERLANDS 2024
scuderiaferrari posted new stories
WE'RE BACK PEOPLE!! I GOT CONTROL OF THE ACCOUNT AGAIN!! EVERYONE SAY HALLELUJAH!!
SPOTTED: lightning mcqueen with mater
SPOTTED: spongebob and patrick, i'll let you decide who's who.
enjoy this picture of tony because he pissed me off.
series taglist: @burningcupcakefire @spilled-coffee-cup @evans-dejong @elliegrey2803 @bingewatche @arkhammaid @sunflower-golden-vol6 @lorarri @ironspdy @mypage-myfandoms @be-your-coffee-pot @celesteblack08 @vellicora @enchantedthoughts @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @six-call @embrosegraves @justtprachisblog @bionic-donut @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @jamie-selwyn @cool-ultra-nerd @kami10471633 @int3rnetgf @fernandoswarcrimes @skynel09 @arieltwvdtohamflash @brekkers-whore @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @chiliwhore @nothaqks @nataliambc @jensonsonlybutton @octopussesarecool @vroomvroommuppett @ragioniera @iamapersonwholikesunicorns @sargeantdumbass @namgification @mgmoore @moonyzsworld @loloekie
strikethrough means i couldn't tag you
click here to be added to the paint the town red taglist
¡leclerc-s speaks!
this one's a little short, but i swear the next one will be longer. it lowkey sucks too but oh well, the next one will be better,
also this serves as a reminder that yelena is canonically aroace!!!!
¡disclaimer!
this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!
#leclerc-s#paint the town red series#f1 instagram au#f1 x oc#f1 oc#f1 smau#f1 social media au#f1#formula one#f1 fic#formula 1 fic#f1 x female oc#charles leclerc x female oc#marvel social media au#f1 x marvel crossover
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we need you
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader
summary: Afraid of failing the two of the people he cares about more than anything, Joel decides you and Ellie are better off without him.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. SET IN JACKSON. takes place during Kin. arguing, angst. helpful to know reader was not present when Joel and Tommy talked in the garage. NO mentions of age, reader has no physical description.
word count: 1.6k
a/n: welllllp i don't know about you guys, but i am DEAD inside after tonight so to cope i am going to write a little drabble. already put it in the warning/tags section, but once again, just to be on the safe side of things: potential spoilers, proceed with caution if you do not want the newest episode spoiled!
“Just what in the motherfucking hell was that, Joel?” You nearly growled, bursting through the door of the bedroom that he’d chosen to occupy for the night. Having heard the way he’d spoken to Ellie—not to mention, all that he had said to her even after her heartbreaking confession to him, her unspoken cry for him not to abandon her, all you could see in your mind was the color red. Sure, you and Joel had been through your fair share of bullshit over the years, disagreements that caused friction between the two of you weren’t all that uncommon seeing as the two of you shared similar personality traits to each other, stubbornness being one of them. But you could not, for the life of you, remember an occasion where you’d been this angry with him, this fucking livid. As you watched him sink down onto the bed without a word, your hands curled into fists at your sides. You knew it would only make matters worse, losing your temper, but you weren’t all too sure that you could contain it this time around.
The blood in your veins was bubbling, boiling hot underneath your skin.
“Are you going to fucking answer me or what?” You prompted, a cool edge to your tone despite the heat radiating throughout your body. “You’re really trying to hand her off to Tommy?”
Joel sighed, shaking his head. “You weren’t supposed to find out like this.”
“Find what out, Joel? That you went off and made a decision, and a really fucking dumb one at that, without even talking to me about it first?” You crossed your arms over your chest, glaring at him. Despite how incredibly furious you were, the sadness was heavy inside of your chest. Tt was as if Joel had forgotten the fact that for the last few months, Ellie had been under your care too, and you had every right to be a part of any decision that he made regarding her and her well-being. It hurt you to your very core that he’d done this without talking to you first, and it hurt you even deeper to know that Ellie had known about this and she’d kept it all to herself all evening.
She’d come home from the movies and when you offered her dinner, she refused to eat and stomped upstairs, locking herself in the bedroom. You’d chalked it up to nothing more than a typical teenaged girl simply having a mood swing. After all, it hadn’t exactly been the best day for Ellie. She’d arrived in Jackson and the first thing she noticed was how everyone in the colony looked at her, especially the children. She was different. She didn’t fit in, she stuck out like a sore thumb and you knew that had to have been hard for her. Not wanting to push her, you’d figured that she would come out of the room eventually and talk you about it when she was good and ready. But now that you knew the real reason why she had come home so upset, you couldn’t help but to feel guilty.
For hours, Ellie had been upstairs in that room knowing that Joel planned on dumping her on Tommy and you didn’t have the slightest fucking clue about what was going on until you’d overheard Joel and Ellie’s shouting match just moments ago.
“Joel.” You said his name in a tone neither of you recognized.
Low, venomous, borderline dangerous.
You were like a ticking bomb, seconds away from going off.
Joel narrowed his eyes at you. “She’s better off with Tommy, alright? And we both fuckin’ know that,” he said. “It’s the best thing to do for her. I’m doin’ it because I know damn good and well that if she stays with me, all I’m gonna do is have her fall into the wrong fuckin’ hands or killed.”
“You’re wrong!” You countered, dropping your arms away from your chest and back down to your sides. “Joel, don’t you dare fucking do this. Ellie doesn’t want Tommy, she wants you. She all but fucking said it right to your face just a minute ago!” You cried, pointing a finger towards the door of the room as if pointing to Ellie herself. “She admitted to you that she wouldn’t feel safe with anyone else, Joel. So don’t you fucking do this to her.”
He gripped the edge of the bed, his knuckles going ghost white. “She’ll be better off with Tommy,” he repeated himself. He paused for a brief moment, just long enough to avert his tortured gaze from yours as he said, “And so would you.”
Your mouth parted slightly in shock. “Fucking excuse me?”
“I can’t keep her safe. Hell, I can barely keep you safe! How many fuckin’ times have I almost lost you? ‘Cause I don’t move fast enough? ‘Cause I’ve made the wrong decisions? ‘Cause I’ve asked you to do somethin’ for me and turns out that I unknowingly sent you into the fuckin’ lion’s den?” He inhaled a sharp breath, and you could hear his voice breaking with each and every word that fell from his lips. “I’ve almost cost you your life how many fuckin’ times now?”
“Joel—”
“Tess died ‘cause of me.” He saw you open your mouth to protest and he quickly added, “You can sit there and tell me over and over that it wasn’t my fault ‘til you’re blue in the face, but let’s just fuckin’ be honest and tell it how it is, alright? I couldn’t get to her quick enough and now she’s dead. I won’t let you meet the same fate.” Joel reached up, raking a hand tiredly through his hair, mentally bracing himself for your reaction to what he was about to say next. “I think you should go with Tommy and get Ellie to where she needs to be. After that, you should—you should think about stayin’ here with him in Jackson. I probably don’t belong here, but you do.”
You let out a small, shaky breath of air.
“Who the hell are you to make that kind of decision for me?” You asked, willing yourself to keep yourself from crumbling into tears. “I’m sorry Joel, but you can’t make that kind of a choice for me. And do you want to know what else?” You didn’t even wait for him to respond. “You can’t make it for Ellie, either.”
“She’s fuckin’ fourteen years old—”
You took a step forward as you challenged him. “Do you really think that girl isn’t smart enough to know deep down inside what’s best for her? Tell me, do you really think that Ellie pulled everything she said out of her ass? Do you honestly think that she could ever trust Tommy the way that she trusts you?” You felt a warm tear slide down your cheek and quickly wiped it away before he could see it. “Ellie is young, but she’s not a baby, Joel. I get that sometimes we need to guide her through shit, but let’s be real. She is old enough to make decisions for herself. Maybe not all of them, but the decision that you’re trying to make for her right here, right now—it isn’t yours to make.” Another tear made its way down the side of your face as you whispered, “And the one you’re trying to make for me isn’t either.”
Joel hung his head, seemingly defeated. “Why can’t you see it’s for the best? Why are you makin’ this so hard?”
Willing your trembling legs to move, you slowly walked over to him and sank to your knees in front of him; although you tried to meet his eyes, he refused. “You care about Ellie. I know it, I can see it and I can feel it. For as much shit as you give her all the time, I know that she’s become so important to you.”
“‘Course she is,” he mumbled. “You’re both important to me.”
You reached for his hands, pulling them forward onto his lap. You placed your own hands on top of his, lacing your fingers together. “Then don’t fucking do this to us, Joel. Please. I’m already down on my knees and I will fucking beg and plead if that’s what it’s going to take.” You crouched down a little further, enough so that you could look up into his dark brown eyes. “Ellie wants to be with you, Joel. And I do too.”
Joel’s gaze glistened with tears that he tried, but failed, to keep from falling in front of you. “I’ll fail you, just like I’ve fuckin’ failed everybody else.”
“Joel, please listen to me. Hear what I am saying, for the love of Christ. We have come so far,” You said, firmly squeezing his hands in yours as if somehow that would snap him out of it. “Whether you choose to believe or not, we’ve only come this far because of you. You have done so much for us. It’s why we trust you, why we feel safe with you. Me and Ellie, we belong with you, Joel—not with Tommy, not with anyone else. We need you, okay? We fucking need you. Do you understand me, Joel?”
Joel exhaled the breath he’d been holding shakily, leaning down to be closer to you. Closing his eyes, he rested his forehead against yours as he tried to even out his breathing.
Rubbing the back of his hands with your thumbs in soothing circles, you lifted your head and lightly pressed your lips against his forehead.
“We’re going to finish what we started,” You murmured quietly against his skin, feeling a slight shudder rack his body as a single whimper escaped him. You squeezed his hands again. “Together, Joel.”
#joel miller x you#joel miller#joel miller imagine#joel miller x reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x f!reader#tlou fanfiction#the last of us fanfiction#joel miller pedro pascal
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Had my co worker help with a return and Lynn (frequent customer, talks a LOT and is nice enough but sometimes we just don't have time) misgendered her and then argued with her over her gender and made her cry and then after j left i was like hey Lynn thats not a very nice thing to say. And she's like omg I didn't mean anything by it!! Tell her sorry! And I'm like yeah I could tell you didn't mean it maliciously at all, but its still not nice.
Then I told her I was trans cuz fuck it. And gave her resources. She asked whats in my pants and I said that's also not okay to ask and she's like ohh I see why.
Like genuinely didn't know trans etiquette, had no ill intentions. I gave her resources to learn, and it ended up okay. I could tell she really just didn't know.
And I bought j chocolate. Just cuz I usually pass now doesn't mean I've forgotten how much it hurts. I still have those nightmares. Have to feel my beard is still there to go back to sleep.
Next morning, I wake up to a text in the manager group chat saying she is banned. For this and many reasons, but this transphobia was the last straw.
She's also just generally annoying, talks to everyone, buys 3 things but spends 3 hours here, argues over returns, everything that's just annoying. We are all relieved.
In the year of our tormenter 2023, you should know basic etiquette enough to not argue with someone's gender or ask what's in their pants. Get with the program.
Posted by admin Rodney.
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suna rintaro here. my girlfriend, y/n, is being distant today and i don't know why. let me tell you about what happened.
we were supposed to have our separate zooms with her on my lap, but she left to a different room near the very beginning. she tried to play it off with "i have a pop quiz and i need to focus. can't have my grade drop just because i can't focus on your lap with your zoom in the background," but we all know that that is absolute bs. she could've focused on my lap just fine, and we all know that failing a 10-point pop quiz from chiahara-sensei happens to the best of us. and if you're wondering, i am the best of the best.
then, after we both finished our annoyingly long 1.5 hour lectures, (well she claimed hers was in fact a 40-point pop quiz/test but it def wasn't) she refused to cook together. she said something like, "rin, you burned yourself last time, remember? go sit down," but that, too, is bs. yes, i spilled hot water on my sweats last time i tried to make pasta, but it was on my knee, so it wasn't like it was a big deal anyways. i don't know why she kept making excuses.
then, after we finished eating the meal she cooked without me, she had the audacity to get on a zoom call when i didn't have one. and after that terrible offense, she refused to sit on my lap for it AGAIN. she said that inuzuka-sensei was always more strict about what we wore in zooms, and i wouldn't get away with no shirt on like soma-sensei let me. when i told her that her body would block mine, she said that my chest and shoulders would still be perfectly visible. then, she guilted me by saying that she didn't want other girls to see my "perfectly toned abs," as she called them. AND THEN she had the impudence to TEASE ME and LIE TO ME by telling me my cheeks and ears were getting red! couldn't believe her.
then, after all our classes were over, she refused to cuddle with me because APPARENTLY her friend's sister a block down rolled and sprained her ankle, and that it was getting pretty bruised and swollen. she also added that her friend didn't have any advil or experience in injuries, and apparently she was asked to bring some advil, a compression bandage, and a couple ice packs. when i told her that her friend could just buy some and that she could get her own ice pack, she tried to get out of it by telling me that her friend's sister was only 5, was bawling her eyes out, refused to be left alone but also screamed louder when she was picked up, and that we also had a lot to spare because we have a ton of supplies in the closet because of my constant volleyball injuries.
again, absolute bs. her friend could just go grab everything herself. what did it matter that the kid was crying? fuck kids! do you know how funny those youtube videos of kids getting hurt and crying are? people enjoy them for a reason. it's because kids are annoying as hell and it's fun to watch them get injured. im subscribed to like 10 of those kinds of channels. her friend is literally getting free entertainment and y/n obviously just wants to watch the free entertainment WITHOUT ME because she'd rather be with her stupid friend than me.
all in all, please help. i don't know why she's so distant today. is she mad? please give me tips!
@.su.rin
post made at 4:16pm
comments:
@.y/n.l/n: HELP WHAT IS THIS
@.y/n.l/n: for the record i got an a+ on that so it was worth it
@.y/n.l/n: love u always rin <333
@.su.rin: reply to @.y/n./l/n- ik that u hate me its ok
#suna x reader#haikyuu x reader#suna fluff#suna rintaro#suna scenarios#haikyuu suna#hq suna#suna rintaro x reader#suna drabble#haikyuu drabble#haikyuu drabbles#haikyuu smau#suna smau#hq smau#haikyuu#haikyuu x y/n#suna x y/n#female reader#suna x female reader#suna rintaro x femake reader
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ALL OF YOUR MEDIEVAL GHOST POSTS ARE SO POETIC AND SO FULL OF LONGING GRGRGR GOING FERAL I LOVE YOUR WRITIBG
I wish I could say it's on purpose but I think a lot of the knight!Ghost stuff has been me riffing, especially the recent "my knight/my lady" stuff.
Here's more riffing, and what I'm going to put as the official start of Act 2, even though we already have like 3 Act 2 posts. Ghost gets taken off the Princess's service. (My lady the way a martyr begs for forgiveness)
"I don't understand."
"What is there to understand?" The King asks, leaning against his desk. His own guards stand at the corners of the office, waiting for a reason to drag Ghost out.
"Have I not performed my duties to the best of my abilities?" Ghost asks, it's a rhetorical question, they both know he has. The King grits his teeth.
"You have gone above and beyond."
"Then, you think I'm not skilled enough to continue in this position." Ghost's fingers tighten on the helm under his arm. To say he respects this man is an overestimation of his fondness.
"You're more than qualified." The glare from the King might cause a lesser man to waver. Ghost is well aware that cornered dogs always bare their teeth.
"If I'm performing my duty well, and I'm over qualified to continue performing it, then the princess must have complained," Ghost reasons out. The King's fingers tighten their grip on each other, unwilling to bang his fist against the table in the face of such insubordination.
"Her praises of you grow by the hour." His attempts at keeping an even tone are admirable, Ghost will give him that. Ghost hums, as if he needs to think about any of this.
"Then I see no reason to remove me as her personal guard," He raises a brow, "besides, I thought my lady was in charge of dismissing her staff." The King's eye twitches.
"I'm offering you a promotion, not a dismissal."
"And I'm rejecting it, good day," Ghost offers a short bow and turns to the door. The knights on either side of it settle their hands on their swords hilts.
"Allow me to rephrase," there's the scrape of a chair, the king standing, "you will leave the princess's retinue and take the position as captain of the guard or I will arrest you for treason and throw you in the dungeon."
Ghost's eyes dart between the guards in the room, all as well trained as he is. Still, if he's going to be arrested for treason anyway he may as well go all in. What's a dog without its master, what is he if he isn't yours? How upset would you be if he was locked away, if he was executed? If he could reach the king before the guards reached him...
Hell, men have taken kingdoms over less. So he has to kill a few measly heirs, and the power vacuum would be a nightmare, but you have as much right to the throne as anyone. He could do it for you. He could fix this.
But it would destroy you. Your reputation, already starting to tarnish, would be gone. You'd be a queen to turmoil and strife. You don't deserve that. You deserve a good life, a happy, easy, life. Even if that life doesn't include him.
He'll still be able to see you occasionally. Ghost can live a lifetime on those rare occasions. His fingers ache from how tightly they'd been clenched as he uncurls his fists. The eyes of the guards in the room are wary, scared. Ghost wonders when the last time he'd seen his own men like that was. When was the last time he'd felt this rabid, liable to strike at any sudden movement.
"I understand," he grits out.
"My wife may be soft on you, but someone has to think about what's best for the kingdom," The King tells him, "for the monarchy."
Never for you, Ghost thinks, it's never about what's best for you. If it were anyone else but the King he might draw his sword right there. Fuck. He'd spit on the monarchy if you weren't a part of it. What do they know about what's best for you? They won't even acknowledge your tears.
#ghoul speaks#writing for knight ghost reminds me of when i used to roleplay with my ex lol#just the level of poetry to it#cod x reader#x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#ghost mw2#simon ghost x reader#simon riley#simon riley x reader#ghost call of duty#ghost cod#knight!Ghost#medieval au
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