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awearywritersworld · 3 months

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megumi's teacher — gojo satoru x reader

tags/warnings: fluff. fem!reader. gojo beefing with an eight year old. 700 words.

ever since megumi started the second grade, it's been (l/n)-sensei this. (l/n)-sensei that.

gojo picks up megumi's favorite ice cream, only to be scolded by the young boy. "(l/n)-sensei's favorite flavor is strawberry, so that's my favorite now!"

gojo tries to help him with his math homework, and it's "(l/n)-sensei did it this way. that means you should too!"

gojo reaches down to tie megumi's shoes for him, before his hand is promptly smacked away. "(l/n)-sensei said big boys tie their own shoes!"

honestly, gojo is starting to feel a little jealous. megumi's known you for what? two months?

he's been raising megumi for the past few years, but does that earn him an ounce of the adoration the young boy seems to have for you?

apparently not, though he perseveres nonetheless.

he and megumi are spending the afternoon out in the city and they stop at a small bakery for lunch.

while megumi is distracted looking at all the sweets behind the glass counter, the bell on the door draws gojo's attention.

his eyes fall upon a pretty young woman. actually, you might just be the prettiest woman he's ever seen.

and of course, a smirk forms on his lips when he catches you looking his way. he's puffing out his chest, running a hand through his hair.

he's always had a certain effect on the ladies, and he's never been more happy about that until this very moment—

"megumi?" you call from a few feet away. the wide smile adorning your face makes you look even more radiant.

while gojo visibly deflates, megumi's head whips around at the speed of light. "(l/n)-sensei!"

oh.

gojo very quickly comes to understand why the boy is so enamored by you.

megumi launches himself at you, while you crouch to meet him with open arms.

"i'm so happy to see you!" he practically sings, clinging to your neck.

you chuckle at his enthusiasm. "i'm happy to see you too, 'gumi."

gojo clears his throat, hoping that megumi will take the chance to introduce you two, but he is completely ignored.

"what are you going to get? i'll buy it for you," he states proudly, despite having zero money of his own.

your gaze shifts to gojo for the first time, and having your attention even just for a brief moment takes his breath away.

"that's very sweet megumi, but that's alright." you ruffle his hair when he pouts at your words, standing back up. "who's this?"

"oh that's just gojo. don't worry about him," he states with a wave of his hand.

the white haired man gawks at him in response. the nerve on that kid! he silently decides megumi will be losing dessert privileges for a week. no, two.

you stifle a giggle before offering your hand to him and introducing yourself as megumi's teacher.

he repeats your name, taking satisfaction in the way it sounds rolling off his tongue.

"that's a pretty name," he compliments, trying to recover from megumi's dismissal. "heard a lot about you. in fact, the kid never shuts up about you."

this earns him a glare from megumi, but gojo is too preoccupied with the shy look that crosses your features to notice.

gojo insists on paying for your order, a show of appreciation for taking such good care of megumi in class. you chat with the pair of them for a little while longer before eventually excusing yourself.

"thank you again, gojo-san. i'll see you on monday, megumi!"

just as you're turning on your heel, gojo calls your name and you look back at him expectantly.

"when, uh," he struggles, scratching the back of his neck. "when do i get to see you?"

nice.

"oh! well, parent-teacher conferences are only a few weeks away! i'll look forward to seeing you then," you answer sweetly, misunderstanding the meaning behind his words.

you bid them goodbye once more and they both watch your figure disappear down the street.

megumi turns to look at gojo smugly. "weeks? that sounds like a really long time—"

"shut it, kid."

#m!writes #im trying to get better at writing shorter fics #so bare w me #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #gojo #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk imagines #gojo imagines #gojo satoru imagines

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umblrspectrum · 18 days

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i love learning cursive just to write text for exactly one character

#fun umbral lore. i can barely read cursive #if you want to hide anything from me then write it in cursive and i will literally never be able to read it #or write it. i had to google cursive text generator and copy it for this #ill settle on textbox designs also eventually #god its been so long since i've drawn the manor gang i think #saw this post and i immediately thought “cyn”#it has nothing to do with her being my number 1 blorbo. bite me #murder drones #art #murder drones n #murder drones v #murder drones j #murder drones cyn #serial designation n #serial designation j #serial designation v #they're so gay also they blushed immediately after this and made out probably im still torn between like 5 different ships #curse you fanfics for putting these ideas in my head

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huggieshalo · 1 year

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.idk im stressed

#my thoughts #im slowly getting the non sexuall age play fic out #honestly #im terrified #of releasing this fic #im barely writing it #i get what i want to write #but #im so worried of ppl thinking its weird and cringe and disgusting #SKXJKSKDNFF IM GOING TO KMS #worse!! its little!louis #IM SCARED SCARED HAHHAHAHAHA #anyways

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ninacarstairss · 1 year

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no i’m not okay inej told jesper he’s family too, he’s the first man who made her feel comfortable again after the menagerie, the only one she can touch and hug like a brother because she knows he’ll always be there to protect her, to love her like a sister, to shield her and understand her whenever this life they’re leading gets too harsh. jesper is family. he’s her brother too

#i am sobbing so hard #i can barely see what im writing okay #inej ghafa #amita suman #kit young #jesper fahey #shadow and bone #six of crows #grishaverse #sab netflix #shadow and bone netflix

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lucabyte · 3 months

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I don't know how everyone isn't also always constantly thinking about how burial rites seem to be potentially one of the few things Siffrin instinctively remembers about their culture. But rest assured. I am in fact always thinking about it.

Textless version where they're just hanging out. It's fine!

#love how i said id slow down on fanart. and then didnt. anyway. the bg is supposed to be a ocean shore but its vague intentionally.#ALSO SORRY FOR DRAWING EVERYONE FACING AWAY FROM THE CAMERA ALL THE TIME? WHY DO I KEEP DOING THAT IN MY ISAT STUFF. HELLO? HELLO??? WHY???#in stars and time #isat fanart #isat #isat spoilers #isat siffrin #isat loop #siffrin #sifloop #lucabyteart #hi again sifloop tag. read this as you will. go nuts. i know you people are here for the crumbs.#if you want other thoughts re: what they do/do not remember on instinct. i wonder what their culture's bonding ceremony equiv is.#since they dont seem to have any answers to that. perhaps since not directly asked during that conversation. hm. feels like a cute fic idea #not that ill be executing on that.#ill be damned if i bare my ass on ao3. i can barely write about my ocs without feeling like im naked on stage. i salute your kind's bravery #also sorry if the dialogue here is hard to parse what order its in. its a zigzag of some kind im not fighting my absolutely ass typesetting #samdontlook

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jellyfisharesatan · 10 months

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The foxes are maybe the most interesting iteration of the found family trope I've ever seen. They love each other. They hate each other. They spend half their time fighting. They literally hide behind each other when threatened. They call each other slurs. They're all gay and date each other. They're mentally ill and traumatised. They're so problematic it's ridiculous. Canonically three of them are murderers. They have a massive sleepover where they all snuggle together .Some of them have about two lines of dialogue together. What the fuck

#tfc #aftg #neil josten #andrew minyard #kevin day #fr tho like #im reading fics rn and they range from #“these people are codependent due to mutual levels of trauma and mental issues”#to “these people were briefly on a sports team together and a few stayed friends and got married but most of them barely interact”#and its all perfectly reasonable #you can literally write them any way and it fits

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murdrdocs · 2 months

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religious themes; allusions to sex; def incorrect religious interpertations MDNI 18+ inspo from @swiftiekisses's post w/ LUKE CASTELLAN

the pastors voice booms throughout the small church even without the microphone as assistance. his words, preachings about the dangers of premarital sex, run down luke's spine. they stick themselves there, forced to remain relevant and exist permanently within his body even if his mind dared to forget it.

because he knows his feeble, easily persuaded mind will forget it. when he's inevitably balls deep in you later this afternoon, when your parents have retired to the kitchen for his moms cooking, he would have already forgotten the elated cheers of agreement from the churchgoers. he knows that when you're running your hands through his hair, your pristinely manicured nails scratching his scalp, he would have forgotten what this mornings sermon was even about.

but you, you won't forget. you sit beside him now, staring straight ahead, supposedly unaffected by the way luke's knee touches yours. he can delude himself into believing you were pretending to not care about luke's presence next to his, but your attitude might be soaked in truth. you're in charge here, and luke knows it.

you're human personification of temptation, the rotten apple disguised as fresh and ripe and ready for the picking. you've dragged him under, deep into a pit of bittersweet arousal and warm insides that he never ever wants to leave.

the sweetness of your perfume wafts towards luke's nose as you clap to what the pastor has said. his words must have been important, they must have been grandiose, because his mother is standing next to him and shouting "amen!". but luke can only focus on the way you turn your head and smile at him, a sweet grin that is the image of innocence to outsiders.

but luke knows your smile to be anything but. you knows you to be anything but. and he can tell himself lies all he wants to, but at the end of the day, when judgement comes, he knows that his actions have damned him. the ones he chose to participate in. he has chosen to continuously sheathe himself into your pretty pussy. he has chosen to lay before the altar of your thighs and give offerings. he has chosen to take what his false god has given him, lessons and signs that cloud his mind instead of clear it.

the worst part is, he wouldn't have it any other way.

#premarital sex is fun #cw religious themes #cw religious trauma #? probably idk hes brainwashed fr #mind u im barely religious #i do not know the bible #lukesworld!#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #celeste writes pjo

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whinesandwhimpers · 3 months

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Currently thinking about slow, tender sex between simon and reader.

you're laying on your back with your legs wrapped around him. him on top of you, arm around your waist, other hand cradling your head as he slowly thrusts in and out, again and again, low murmurs right beside your ear like "my good girl", "doing so well, takin' me so well", "always such a good girl f'me, sweetheart", "can't get enough of you, of this pretty pussy always squeezing me so nicely", "you're so perfect, baby, and all mine, mine, mine—", drawing out all sorts of sounds from you and making you clench around his length with all the right words

its a nice slow build up and when you do cum, you both finish at the same time, tightly grasped in each other's embrace, and you quietly cry out his name while he paints your inner walls with his release. a few soft neck kisses later, he pulls out of you and kisses your forehead before grabbing a wash cloth and cleaning you up.

when he's done, he assumes the position of the big spoon and pulls you against his chest and you mumble out an 'i love you, si', before falling asleep happy.

#ghost x reader #my writing #i did bare min with this im ngl #simon riley x reader

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mysterycitrus · 4 months

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mary and john grayson are interesting in the peanut gallery of dead parents because unlike pretty much everyone else, they exist exclusively in the before, and rarely the after.

both the graysons and the waynes are plot devices for tragedy, sure, the literal inciting incident to heartbreak, but while the waynes tangibly haunt the story in the manor, in their painted likenesses, in gotham as a whole, the graysons remain largely absent.

jack drake returned from the dead only to die again. sheila haywood smoked over her son’s body. david cain heard his daughter speak and wept.

but who are the flying graysons? aside from phantoms their son thinks of fondly. their ghosts are crucial to literally everything. they must fall, they must hit the ground, and their son must watch. but what happened before? they live in the pocket anecdotes for every passerby who happened to be at the circus that night. they are a poster on the wall. they are the colours worn by children. but they still exist in absentia.

#idk im writing out my family tree for the graysons and if u ignore court of owls we have bare bones to work with #court of owls (derogatory tomato tomato)#dick grayson #dc comics #spokes #tbd

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starry-bi-sky · 4 months

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more clone^2 memes because i think they're funny

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc crossover #dpdc #clone^2 #danny fenton is not the ghost king #so canon to clone^2 and clone damian the portal that ends up transporting damian to amity park is left pr ambiguous #so really how he got there could be one of many things whether it be through divine intervention or clockwork's doing or hell #it could've also been quite literally the 1 in 1 millionth chance that a natural portal opened up beneath him and sent him to amity #and was a happy accident #but the idea that the laz pits or another adjacent such entity heard damian wanting an older brother (he meant og damian but oops never-#specified) and then sends him to the one person who could fulfill that wish and make him happy at the same time.#was really funny to me within the context of the lilo and stitch meme. the meme can also be seen the other way around with danny as lilo #and damian as stitch. but danny being stitch was infinitely funnier and ~technically~ more accurate imo #danny technically IS a nice angel but also. he's a developing menace to society (just ask wes) and he's going to make damian one too #danny being from the midwest means he has a midwestern accent and thats not something the bats know how to handle when they finally meet hi #hey look at that! my meme making skills are steadily improving. im no longer making the same joke six different times in different formats #those first two images i made a few days ago the rest i made in the last thirty minutes in a spur of clone^2 induced inspiration #and procrastination of writing the cfau rewrite of the first post. we are 10k words deep folks and just barely got past the 1st gala reunio #dunking on the giw is a god-given right and danny WILL pass it down to damian

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blu-wingz · 11 months

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i need a 10+ hour documentary about the creation of the spiderverse trilogy. all of it. the animation process, the writing and planning process, the character designs and motifs, the soundtrack motifs, the frames, the new tools and programs they used and/or INVENTED to create these masterpieces. I want it all. this trilogy will be the shining example of having ideas and just going for it, to trying new things and making them work, to take control of the medium and make something astounding at least TWO TIMES IN A ROW, with another movie coming soon. this shit is inspiring

#itsv #atsv #into the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #blu.txt #i can barely write the words i want to express how grateful we are to have these two films #AND THEN TO GET ONE MORE LATER #we are blessed #i fucking love spiderman #and im so fucking sure that this movie is inspiring lil kids to go into animation or to have pride in oneself

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filmnoirsbian · 2 years

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What bothers me the most about these "I've never read the source material" #feminist #queer retellings is that retellings are, at the bare minimum, in conversation with a source material. This is true whether or not you have actually read the story you are attempting to retell. Refusing to read the source just means your conversation is now one-sided, which is detrimental to any hope of furthering the discussion or themes or narrative. So now you've interrupted a conversation with an aside that ultimately adds nothing because it doesn't know enough about what was said previously to be able to respond or build upon it. And I just...don't get it! Why would you want to tell a story that way? Why would you decide to put an addition onto a house without looking at the architectural blueprints?

#me surrounded by my 20 copies of the oresteia w various translations before sitting down to write the elektra complex: im going to strangle #that 'sapphic odyssey' woman w my bare hands #tcp #im not trying to say u HAVE to do what i did to write a retelling btw but like. why would u not want to at least read the baseline #an open window #this also isnt to say that a writer who's read the source can't write a bad retelling. i know mm and ms saint both read their sources...

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rafeandonlyrafe · 7 months

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kinktober: guns

words: 2.5k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, gun kink, p in v sex, unprotected bc dont be fcking dumb!, hand kink as well kind of, f receiving oral and handjob, blowjob, being fucked by the gun (silencer), mild degradation but also praise, mentions of drug dealing, somehow still soft rafe idk yall im unable to write rafe being anything but a softie

taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @slut4drudy @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks

your eyes widen at the glint of black metal in the low lighting, watching the way rafe works the rag over the piece. you control your gasp when you realize what it is that you’re holding, but you can’t help but take a step back in shock.

you stumble, not realizing how close you were to the hallway table that decorates your home. rafe looks up at the noise, his eyes meeting yours. you can’t tell what emotion crosses his face. he simply sets the handgun down on the coffee table, still partially disassembled.

“rafe-” you begin, but you don’t have the words to finish as he stands up, stalking over to you, his usually comforting figure suddenly imposing when shrouded in the darkness of night.

“baby.” rafe says softly, taking your face in his large hands. “what are you doing awake?” “i-i heard you come in, and i waited for you to come lay down and when you didn’t i came to check on you.” your voice is barely above a whisper, but in the silence of your house, rafe hears you clear as day. he stands still, and you take the moment to apologize, “i’m sorry.”

rafe lets out a deep breath, his face reading the guilt of your apology. “it’s okay.” he presses his lips to your forehead, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as he holds you to him. it takes you a beat, but you wrap your arms around his waist in a tight embrace.

“come here.” rafe says after a moment, sliding his hand down your back and leading you into the living room instead of hiding in the hallway. you take cautious steps, eyes on the disassembled gun on the table.

“sit down.” rafe keeps his voice gentle, but it’s a command, not a request. you sit down on the couch, and rafe slides next to you. he gives you a moment to look at the pieces of metal on the table.

you know why rafe has a gun. he tries to keep that part of his life silent, but you know he helps run the drug scene on the islands of the outer banks. you’ve never been exposed to the violent nature of what he does but you’ve helped him count money and sort packages. he protects you when it comes to the actual sale, you haven’t even met one of his clients, at least not that you know of.

“it’s okay rafe, i knew you had a gun.” you say. you’ve seen him discreetly tuck it into his waistband when you’ve been out, and did not fail to notice the way he keeps it on his bedside table when he thinks it’s too dark for you to see at night.

“but you haven’t really seen it before baby.” rafe picks up what looks to be the frame of the gun, and he turns it over, showing you all the different sides before placing it on your lap. he gives a nod of your head and you pick it up, surprised that the disassembled part is still so heavy.

“should i- should i learn how to…?” you ask, not having the heart to tell him that you want to, because if anything happens to rafe, you want to be able to protect him as well, even though he doesn’t need it.

“if you want to, i’ll teach you.” rafe presses a kiss to your cheek, taking the metal back out of your hand. he begins to explain the different pieces of the gun and what they do as he reassembles it. your eyes track the movements of his hands, his slender fingers moving each part into place. you bite your lip and press your thighs together, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by rafe.

“are you turned on, princess?” he asks, no judgment in his voice, rather fascination from how you, his sweet girlfriend, can be so turned on by his gun as he sets it back down on the table.

“no!” you squeal, which just gives you away even more. “pants off.” rafe commands, and you know better than to go against him. you stand up off the couch for a millisecond to shove your pants down to your ankles then sit back down, keeping your thighs locked closed together.

“that is not what i meant, and you know it.” rafe commands, placing his hands on your waist and twisting you so you’re facing him. “if you’re not going to be good, i’m just going to have to do this myself.” he guides you backwards so you’re laying your head against the arm of the couch. he takes one ankle and slides it off the edge of the cushion while moving the other one to rest against the back of the couch, spreading you open wide.

“are you still going to deny being turned on?” he asks, eyes on your underwear sticking to your pussy, wet patch clearly visible.

you smartly decide to stay quiet, and rafe gives a little hum of approval at your choice to no longer continue to deny, knowing the amounts of pleasure he can bring you as he pushes his thumb over where he knows your clit is, not wasting any time as he rubs it over the material.

you let out a moan, back arching off the couch as he touches you. all tiredness you previously felt from suddenly waking up in the middle of the night is going.

rafe smiles down at you, seeing his girl so easily and quickly thrown into pleasure just with one of his fingers. he moves faster, watching the wet patch grow even bigger. he drags his thumb down, pressing against the spot until his thumb presses slightly into your hole, the fabric of your underwear still acting as a barrier.

“n-no, let me take them off, please.” you beg, but it doesn’t dissuade from doing exactly what you expected, gripping your underwear with both hands and literally tearing them straight down the center like the material was tissue paper.

you grumble something about liking that pair, and rafe calms you by pressing a kiss to your knee that’s hooked over the side of the couch. “i’ll buy you another pair.”

he kisses down your thigh, occasionally nipping at your skin until he reaches your cunt, taking a deep inhale of your scent before sticking his tongue out, lapping at your slickness as he gathers it all onto his tongue.

you try your best to keep your hips still, thighs already burning slightly from being spread so wide. you moan rafes name as his tongue slides up away from your hole and over your clit, flicking repeatedly over the sensitive bud before pulling back far too early.

you watch as rafe picks the gun up off the table, making your eyes go wide.

“my sweet princess, turned on by my gun.” he turns it over in his hand, and you don’t fail to notice that he’s left several parts on the table, probably whatever interior mechanism that makes it actually fire so his toying with it remains safe.

“who would have known that the innocent good girl i first starting dating would turn into such a slut?” he grabs the silencer off the table, slotting it onto the end of the gun. your eyes watch in fascination at his movements.

“my own personal whore. you’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you?” rafe questions, running the tip of the silencer against your thigh, slowly dragging it closer to your center.

“you’d even let me fuck you with my gun.” his words make you gasp, coupled by the smooth metal of the silencer coming into contact with your dripping folds. it’s so cold that you can’t help the shiver that runs through your body.

rafe continues to move the silencer against you, partly to tease, partly to get it covered in your juices. “you’re gonna let me, right princess?”

rafe looks to you as you silently nod, worried if you open your mouth you’ll start to beg, beg for him to put the gun inside of you. rafe presses it against your hole, and your eyes widen at how big it feels, like two of his fingers are trying to enter you, but you’re slick enough that when you take a breath to relax, he’s able to push in, breaking the ring of your hole.

“fuck!” you whine, rafe not giving you any time to get used to the sensation as he continues pushing it inside of you, until the entire silencer is buried in your pussy, the barrel of the gun far too large to fit inside.

“just breathe.” rafe mumbles softly, wanting to continue but not wanting to hurt you. you follow his instructions, sliding your eyes closed as you get used to the foreign object.

when rafe can tell your body has calmed down, he pulls the gun out slightly, watching the way your wetness sticks to the metal before pushing it back inside of your body.

you lift your hips slightly to give some reprieve to your thigh muscles, as well as give rafe a better angle as he moves quicker, starting to thrust the gun against you.

his thumb comes back to your clit, now able to touch your bare skin and the pad of his finger feels burning hot compared to the coldness spreading from within you. rafe presses his thumb against you, keeping the intensity constant instead of rubbing.

“there you go.” rafe smirks, “my good fucking slut.”

his praise makes you glow, especially as your high starts to build from the way the silencer is pressing inside of you. the dirtiness of the action just pushes you even farther.

“gonna-” you warn, when suddenly rafes thumb is off your clit, the silencer halting all movement, lodged deep inside of you.

“you ask permission to cum, slut.” rafe tells you, deciding to push you even harder.

“please, let me cum.” you beg, hands fisting the material of the couch.

“no.” rafe simply says, moving the gun again. “no, because my girl isn’t going to cum for some piece of metal. you’re going to wait until i’m done having my fun and then cum on my cock, understood?” “y-yes.” you nod, flopping your head against the couch as it repeatedly presses inside of you, your clit pulsating at the need to release everything you have inside.

“please.” you sob, feeling tears slide down your cheeks, unable to hold back your impending orgasm much longer.

rafe pulls the gun out of your, making your cry out, missing the sensation instantly. “no, no, rafe please.” you beg.

“shush!” he says, delivering a slap to your inner thigh. “if you were patient at all you’d realize i’m going to fuck you now.” you sit up, blinking your eyes open in the low lighting as rafe tugs his shirt over his head. you take the moment to unbutton your pajama top as you watch him stand, unbuttoning and sliding off his jeans and underwear at the same time.

your mouth waters at the sight of his cock, unable to control yourself as you sit up, giving your legs a reprieve from the stretch as you take him into your mouth, sucking the head of rafes cock as your eyes roll back in your head, tasting the saltiness of his precum against your tongue.

“can’t resist, can you?” rafe laughs, knowing how much of an oral fixation you have.

you hum around his cock, bobbing your head but not taking him anywhere near fully into your mouth, enjoying playing with the head of his cock with your tongue.

you kitten lick at his tip repetitively, waiting for rafe to inevitably pull you off to fuck you. he lets you have your fun for a bit longer before tapping the back of your head.

you pull off with a satisfied smile, laying back and resuming the same position on the couch, spreading your cunt wide to show him that you’ve gotten even wetter from sucking him off.

“my pretty slut.” rafe smiles, kneeling on the couch between your legs. he grabs a throw pillow that was discarded onto the floor at some point, shoving it under your hips to raise your cunt up to the perfect angle to fuck.

rafe rubs his cock against you before jutting his hips forward, sinking fully into you in one fluid motion. you let out a curse, boobs bouncing as he immediately starts up a rhythm.

your cunt clenches tightly around him, rafes moans coming to match your own as he moves within you, feeling your tight walls, remembering that his gun was just where his cock currently is.

he picks the gun up off the table, still gleaming with your slick. he sticks his tongue out, licking up the side. “you taste so good.” he moans, keeping his free hand on your hip to hold you in place as he thrusts.

“want to taste yourself?” he asks, but doesn’t even give you a moment to respond before pressing the silencer against your tongue, mouth already open from moaning.

you wrap your lips around the metal, indeed tasting yourself on it. you suck at the gun, keeping your eyes on rafe as you do.

rafe moans, feeling his cock swell inside of you. he would keep fucking you all night, but he can’t hold himself back any longer as he moves faster, plunging as deep inside of you as he possibly can.

“fuck, please let me cum!” you cry out, reaching a hand down to rub at your clit, your fingers not feeling as good as rafes, but doing the job.

“wait for me.” is all rafe can gasp out, watching you immediately take the gun back into your mouth after asking.

rafe lasts a few more hard thrusts before he’s releasing inside of you, and you follow quickly, rubbing yourself to completion as you feel your cunt flooding with cum.

rafe continues to gently thrust throughout your orgasms, both coming down together as he sets the gun back on the table. he collapses forward, his naked body pressing against your bare one.

“god, you really are the most perfect slut.” rafe mumbles, pressing kisses to your shoulder as he slowly pulls out, knowing his cum is going to leak all over the decorative pillow you’re sat on, liking the idea of ruining another piece of furniture from his insatiable need for you.

“love you.” you whisper, tilting your head to the side to give his hair a kiss.

rafe leans up, pressing his lips against yours in a fierce kiss, saying the words for him.

“why don’t you go upstairs and wait for me, sweetheart?” he asks, sitting up and giving you a hand to help you sit as well, your body burning as the exhaustion sets back in. “i’ll be up in a minute, i have to clean my gun again because someone got it all dirty.”

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whamss · 3 months

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"Making Rosemary tea drinking lesbians is bad" says Internet User, but not because it strips them of their characterization and turns them into carbon copies of each other, destined to sit in the background while other characters (men) have character arcs around them, but because they aren't Silly Enough. No no, we don't need to flesh them out, we just need to turn them from Wise Lesbian Couple to Comedic Relief. This will fix everything wrong with fandom depictions of them. *Wipes sweat from forehead* Woo! Being a feminist is so tough!

#talk tag #homestuck #if you cant tell im starting to have feelings #obligatory ofc its okay to write rosemary being funni but man is it exhausting when the bare minimum or rosemary thought seems to be #“wait a second! rosemary arent tea drinking lesbians! theyre secretly really funny” with no thought past this #trust me i like writing them fail as much as the next person but yk these are characters right?#you know that they exist outside of each other... right!?!??!#rosemary #rose lalonde #kanaya maryam #recent developments in fandom have managed to invent a whole new flavor of rosemary for me to hate #that accidentally perpetuates all of the issues w them that people have been pointing out for years #anyways i miss them

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otaku553 · 3 months

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Thinking very hard about an AU idea of mine. Reluctant king Sabo AU!

In which Sabo isn’t saved by Dragon, but survives long enough to drift ashore and be saved by the doctors of Goa Kingdom, who do so only to ransom his medical bills from Sabo’s parents. Sabo’s parents take him back, thinking that his amnesia makes him a clean slate, but Sabo, young and stubborn and unsure of his entire identity, knows that everything is wrong and runs again, and again, and again.

Until at some point, he meets the Revolutionaries, and realizes that he can be useful to them, provide them information, make something good of an inescapable situation. From then on, he starts acting the noble that he was born as, in order to be a more useful informant to the Revolutionaries, until sunk cost fallacy hits and he believes that being a noble is the only way that he can be useful to the Revolutionaries. So at that point, why not take it all the way?

At 17, Sabo becomes one of Princess Sarie’s suitors, and at 17, he has doubts about using the princess for his own goals. Sarie is a romantic, and she wants a dramatic fairy tale of a romance, and she was already charmed, but the moment Sabo opens up to her about not wanting to use her to get to the throne, having lofty ambitions of helping the people (just not the people she thinks he’s talking about), Sabo becomes the one she simply must marry, because surely if she tries hard enough, she can make him love her back.

Soon after, the king and his son die. Sarie’s father and brother die. And while Sabo conveniently ascends to the throne, he also swiftly implicates his father, Outlook, in the assassination of all heirs to the throne, resulting in Outlook’s arrest and subsequent execution. And thus, at 18, Sabo becomes king, and begins to gradually institute great changes to Goa Kingdom.

Design-wise, Sabo wears an eyepatch because his damaged eye is considered a grotesque sight by nobles’ standards. Under the eyepatch, he wears heavy makeup to hide the burn scar. These are both at the behest of his birth parents, who spin a story about Sabo having been born half blind to hide the fact that Sabo had been shot by a Celestial Dragon and save face. To those who have seen his scar, they fabricate a second secret story that he was unfortunately kidnapped as a child. Sabo never does find out, until he regains his memories, where the burn scar is actually from.

#one piece #sabo #one piece au #king sabo au #I might write something for this #I have a lot of ideas for it #I love au’s where sabo helps the revolution while not being actually a member of the revolutionary army #but I very rarely see ones that I like #I am going to oc-ify sarie so much.#i think sabo would hate being king. I think he hates everything about the situation he is in #but I also think that in the wake of forgetting himself he needs some connection to cling onto #even if that connection is the extremely inspiring stranger that barely knows him but is proud of him for helping #namely dragon.#I’m still unsure where to put stelly in all of this #I think stelly gets extremely bitter when sabo starts surpassing him in everything #because he was supposed to be the successful replacement of a son #im also debating whether or not I want sabo to remember his memories before or after marineford #because the moment he regains his memories is very clear to me. I want garp to see him at the reverie and punch him.#but I don’t know if I want that to happen earlier or later

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mossmurdock · 5 months

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let them hear it (n.kento)

pushing away the angst i had in mind and prioritizing kissing nanami till he's on the verge of giggling while the two of you are outside in the snow.

What the two of you have is complicated; as complicated as something gets with someone as straightforward as Nanami Kento.

You vaguely knew of each other because of work before you quit, and then you found yourself taking the same commute as him to get to your new building.The familiar face was a surprise; autumn was on the cusp of tipping over and you were looking over at a man already dawned in gloves and a suspiciously thick looking coat you swear you've seen hanging on the hooks of previous office walls.

It’s what he’s wearing tonight, although it’s winter, so he’s also smothered in a wool scarf and stops to adjust his ear muffs every once in a while as the two of you walk. The action is somewhat unserious on its own; the idea of a man as serious looking as him so attentively dressed for the weather is already an easy thing to make you smile. But, you’re both a little more than tipsy.

When Nanami stops for the third time to stop the thing from falling into his eyes, you burst out into laughter as he groans to mask his own slew of giggles.

The reservation the two of you made this month was on the late side, so after too much wine and food, the streets are empty for the two of you to wander. These appointments have been something a little more than precious to you recently. You aren’t sure how it all started, but you and Nanami have both found ways to indulge in yourselves at least once a month without feeling too guilty about it for about a year now. Lately, it’s been something you look forward to more than anything else you have planned.

This isn't the first time you found yourself testing your tolerance with Kento. You quickly noted how much of a heavy drinker he was once you found yourself slipping trying to keep up with him. Every month he’ll assure you there’s no need, but you’re rather adaptable yourself; and Nanami would never admit to liking a challenge. It might be wrongfully advantageous of you, but you liked the look of him loose like this. He lets himself lean on you a little more.

It just helps that the sidewalks happen to be particularly icy tonight.

“Hold it, hold—hold on,” he says breathlessly. There’s been the hint of a smile teasing the corner of his lips since the two of you have left the restaurant doors. It’s so contagious that you’re sure your lips will be split and bleeding by the end of the night.

He’s doubled over now, earmuffs on the brink of falling once more. You snort before stepping in front of him, bending down to clumsily bring them up his forehead. He looks up to you as you do, looking a little unlike himself. His cheeks are pink, eyes are wide and nearly starry, his lips are wet because he keeps licking them to fight off the cold. It takes everything in you not to ruffle up his hair even more than it already has been. It would be different, you think; it would be your own hands doing the carnage. Maybe he wouldn't be so quick to try and fix it then.

“What is it?” your breath comes out as fog in the air. A physical thing your sluggish brain finds beautiful when you watch it mingle with Nanami’s own breath. This close, you can spot tiny snowflakes melting into his lashes.

He hesitates, as if fighting himself for wanting to speak in the first place. There’s a strange expression on his face, too old and twisted to fit his features.

“My stomach feels like it’s about to burst,” he blurts, still clutching to his middle while hunched over.

A silent beat passes before you explode into laughter loud enough to wake people, playfully slapping your hand on his shoulder.

“How crude!” you exclaim, half scolding in your tone. “You’ve seriously got a foul mouth after a few drinks.”

“I would say that was more than a few,” he notes dazedly.

You hum, trying to get him to match your pace once he straightens himself. His shoulders hunch up to his ears as he does, a slight shiver hidden in the sea of fabric he's practically being swallowed into. His chill, the same as his concealed smile, is infectious. Your body follows his, feeling every bit of the breeze that passes through your clothing. Crossing your arms over your chest, you try and steel off your body.

"Are you cold?" Nanami offers his arm for you to cling onto, giving you no time to answer him.

The buzz radiating off your skin is silenced by the fabric he wears, squashed into his figure and sticking to him like scorching asphalt. You feel cemented this close to him, letting your arm fall and feeling him interlace your fingers while still keeping it close to his. His gloves keep you from feeling his skin. Your tease about him being the coldest between the two of you dies on your tongue.

The two of you bump shoulders, a little too inebriated to be walking this close together. The surrounding snow swallows up all other sound, only leaving your heavy footsteps and gentle breathing to be heard. Nanami sighs. You feel the noise travel from the soles of your feet, tingling at the tips of your ears.

“Comfortable?” you ask cheekily, feeling the pressing weight of him melding into your shoulder as time passes by. He hums in response, another vibration you can feel dancing on your skin.

“You’re warm,” he states, squeezing your hand firmly. Still painfully gloved. “Thank you.”

The sincerity in his voice knocks the wind out of your own, the only trace of it being the small cloud that leaves your lips. It takes everything in you to not dig your fingers into his hand, until you reached the skin, until he could really feel you, until he would be able toleach all the warmth he wanted from your blood. You think he would do it gently.

Nanami stops walking first once the entrance of his apartment comes into view. The steps up to the door are covered in snow and ice, they haven't been salted yet. You’re about to tell him to be careful while walking up the steps before you feel something foreign being placed on your head. They’re his earmuffs, unbelievably warm. They smell like the shampoo he uses.

He keeps his hands on the covers, an extra blanket on top of your ears. The weight makes any noise around you sound like it’s been drowned underwater. The feeling is as steady as his stare, half lidded and a little heavy, but balanced. The falling snow seems to still, as stagnant as the stars above your head. The warmth on his skin matches the mellow light seeping from people’s windows.

Your skin seers when his hand drifts to your cheek, dragging his thumb across your skin.

His face looks wind beaten and cold, cherry red at the tips of his ears, his nose, and his cheeks. The flush must run all over him, down to his knuckles and elbows, up his chest and shoulders. You wish you could see.

“You look like you’re freezing, Kento.” You lean into his touch unsubtly.

This proximity should maybe feel odd, but it’s hard to ignore all those secret moments the two of you share between meals, on commutes to work, on tipsy walks back home, now that you’re both facing each other.

And he shivers when you use his first name, when you raise your hands to fix his scarf and let the tips of your fingers graze the exposed skin of his neck. The cold teases at those that are cloaked the most, clawing at anything it can find.

“I’m fine,” he sniffles; soft and trailing and good natured. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” you chuckle. He smiles at the noise.

Something overtakes you, some kind of greed that can only be found in snow so pillowy that it wolfs down any noise, a force you can’t stop unless you step into it with your own shoes. There’s that crunch: where the only noise that life seems to need is your own. His. Yours. You’re both holding each other. The sound of his clothes are all you can hear.

You hear his movement before seeing it, feel his cold lips on your cheek long after he’s pulled away from you. It’s innocent, modest—but his hands—they cup around your entire face, shifting across your neck. His gloves are still in the way, but you can’t muster any complaints when the feeling is so intoxicating.

“Are you drunk?” he asks quietly.

“The cold sobered me up,” you answer, voice thin with the slightest shock. “You?”

“Me too,” he replies. He’s hastily taking off his gloves and the action momentarily puts some distance between the two of you.

“What—what are you doing?” you scoff confusedly.

“I can’t feel you,” he explains simply, stuffing the gloves into the pocket of his coat. “I’d like to feel you.”

Laughter ebbs past your lips for the millionth time. The happiness you’ve felt today only feels real because your cheeks are beginning to hurt from all the strain.

Kento has wrapped you in an embrace, easily picking you up from the ground by your waist. You gasp, smirking into his neck as you wrap your hands around him and try not to jostle the earmuffs too badly.

You might never know a strength like his; his hands are gentle and firm. When you press a lingering kiss to the juncture of his jaw, one coasts across the curve of your ass before settling into the meat of your thigh.

“Don’t be too quick just ‘cause you want to get out of the cold. The steps are icy.” You advise him while bombarding his face with light pecks similar to his first one, musing his hair and admiring the pliant looking smile on his face. It’s also the kind he holds when he’s holding back a laugh.

He hums deeply. You feel it intensely this time, it echoes against your own chest.

“I’m not being quick because of the weather,” he grumbles, barely hiding his urgency.

His response has you looking down at him smugly, wishing you could take a picture just so he could see his own flushed face.

this post is the culprit !! everyone please point and laugh at it, it is so embarrassing how long i thought about it.

i hope yall dont mind being tagged, but @riaki @maeby-cursed @threadbaresweater are also enablers!!! wrote this with yall in mind hope u like it

#THIS WAS BARELY EDITED LMAO #im so tired #it is five a.m. u guys #i love this man my hubby my wife #moss writes #jjk x reader #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader

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