a billet-doux from the lighthouse. โ most recent.
โณ getting rid of an eight-limbed stranger who has followed you home like a stray cat is going to be hard when heโs essentially set up camp in the middle of your apartment. [sfw]
my heart, tethered to yours.
โณ what good are handcuffs when your boyfriend has superhuman strength.
tender, wretched.
โณ peter thinks he can handle you being a little mean.
wolf-teeth.
โณ you unearth peter parkerโs masochistic streak โ his proclivity for the pain to be administered by you should have been cause for unsettlement. so naturally, you find it hot.
aquรญ yo mando.
โณ peter takes himself apart for your voyeuristic pleasure.
ruiner.
โณ you like peter best like this โ curls strewn, wild-eyed and on his knees.
try it on for size.
โณ peter tries on a maid outfit. you like being mean.
unravel.
โณ peter has a predilection for ruining your orgasms.
parker and co.
โณ you find out multiple versions of your boyfriend exist in a panoply of timelines. it shouldnโt come as a surprise that they have a thing for you.
nice hands.
โณ complimenting peterโs hands leads to something else.
spiderling. โ warning: arachnophobia.
โณ the bite leaves peter parker with a myriad of beetle-black eyes. and extra limbs.
hey! eyes up.
โณ spider-man catches you checking him out.
circlet.
โณ you choke peter. heโs into it.
the spidersuit stays on.
โณ the mask does wonders for his self confidence.
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dry humping w josh. youโve got bruises in your hips from how hard he moves you back and forth ah hell
cw: like 10% dry humping, fingering, mean-ish!josh (barely), mischaracterization (maybe, trial's still out), litch took creative liberty sorry girlfriend
when you're fucking around with josh, it's always either slow and drawn out, or intoxicatingly heavy and feral. very rarely does he leave bruises on your bodyโonly ever does it upon request or when he's so blind with pleasure that the only thing at the forefront of his mind is getting closer to you. and it's usually the latter.
sometimes he wishes he could devour you. consume you whole so that nobody could ever have you. and he supposes that since he can't quite do thatโthis is the next best thing. when he's got you like this, sat on his cock, pressing you down, down, down, like a piece of clay waiting to be molded. kneaded. made pliable.
and it's always too much. the pleasure. the way he forces you to stay down against him, mercilessly rutting up into you, long after you've already gone limp in his arms.
"oh, c'mon," he drawls, tone teasing, "not giving up on me now, are ya?"
"'s t-too much," you all but cry, "can't take it!"
"both know that's not true," he laughs, temporarily pausing his movements. swiftly, he slips his hand past the waistband of your shorts. slides a finger over your slit once, twice, before burying it inside to the hilt.
there's a cocky grin plastered over his face that you can't see but hear. "i've seen this pretty pussy take on a lot more," he whispers into your ear. the next time he speaks, he adds another. uses the pad of his fingers to rub up against the smooth velvet of your walls, curling and uncurling them in a manner so cruel, that it has you clutching his shoulders for stability.
you're getting closer and closer to another release, and you're almost there until he withdraws his hand from your pants unceremoniously. confusion settles between your brows.
"why...why'd you stop?" you query, panting from the loss of friction. he sits there with a sly smirk, amused by your visible frustration before opening his mouth to say, "said it was 'too much', right? think we should just stop there..."
"i can..." your words are barely just above a whisper, and josh takes advantage of this.
"what was that? don't think i caught it."
"i can do it," you affirm, placing your hands back onto his shoulders for leverage, "wanna keep going." hesitantly, you resume your movements. you start with a slow, methodical roll of your hips, gradually increasing speed along with pressureโthe way he likes it.
"atta girl," he praises, leaning back into the cushion of the sofa, "now show me how you get off."
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Anya is LIVE right now
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Satoru Gojo was a lot of things, but he would never be yours. Sleeping with him in his bed as a child didnโt grant you that kind of closeness anymore. Within these halls, you walk past each other like strangers.
เฉโฉ chapter cw/tags: angst, suggestiveness, making out, light bullying
เฉโฉ wc: 5.5k
เฉโฉ a/n: i am here to ruin everyone's lives. apologies in advance
playlist โธ read on ao3 โธ series masterlist
March, 2008
โHey, Twigs. Wanna see something cool?โ
His honeyed voice chills your spine, his breath warm right by your ear. You roll your eyes as you turn to face Satoru, grinning with all his teeth as he tugs at your wrist.ย
โWhat is it, Satoru?โ you sigh.
โYou have to follow meee,โ he sings, pulling you away from the table youโre setting and towards the side of the porch. Itโs secluded. Private. โBring the spoon.โ
With furrowed brows, you oblige. It isnโt like you have a choice. You had followed him around like a puppy ever since youโd met him as a child. You continue to, regardless of your determination to separate yourself from him.
His favorite shadow. His little pet.
The two of you arenโt as close as you were when you were children, but itโs still impossible to refuse him when he has a request. You blame it on your mother and her professionalism. You figure you had inherited it from her. That hyper-politeness. You find that you blame the ocean blue of his eyes more often. Always sparkling.ย
He walks a few feet away from you, still grinning. You blink at his tall figure. He's currently dressed in a baby blue dress shirt (sleeves rolled up, of course) and black slacks. His Sunday best for the fancy brunch at the Gojo Estate. Every April, your mother summons you to help set up, then rewards you with a plate and time to play with the other kids. She would continue her work, serving the family and their guests. You would pretend that you werenโt part of the staff.
There hadnโt been a point in you staying for the afternoon in years. Only if Satoru begged you to, and even then, he hadnโt bothered to do so since junior high.
โYouโre going to get me in trouble,โ you huff, crossing your arms. You wipe your sweaty hands on your smock.
โIโd never let you get in trouble, you know that,โ he smirks. โNow, throw the spoon at me.โ
โWhat?โ
โJust do it.โ
โI want to throw way more than a spoon at you right now.โ
โRelax, Twigs. Do this for me. Please?โ he pouts. You can see his bright blue eyes peeking out of his black sunglasses, framed by snow-white lashes. It was unfair how pretty he was. How easily he could persuade you.ย
Sighing, you throw the spoon in his direction. It stops right in front of his face as if thereโs an invisible wall. He laughs in victory when he sees your confused expression.ย
โWhat was that?โย
โMy Infinity. Iโve perfected it so that itโs automatic. Took me a lot of willpower before but now itโs as easy as breathing.โ
โCongratulations,โ you reply dryly.ย
It was typical of Satoru to be invincible. Untouchable. It had been a quality of his since birth, now manifested into a literal power to aid him against threats. Youโd been on the outskirts of such threats when you were younger, but Satoru would always spare you the details.
Watching him grow in his adolescence had been like watching a sprout bloom. It shot toward the sky exponentially until it became a tree in record time. You, meanwhile, were still a sprout. A window, theyโd called it. Able to see the horrors produced by human nature but unable to do anything about it.
Your head snaps up, alert when you hear your mother yelling your name from the porch. She points a hard gaze at you, then softens it when she sees Satoru.
โSatoru-kun, do you mind if I steal her for a minute? I need some extra hands for the tamagoyaki.โ
Satoru nods, expressing his courtesy to your mother in his usual charming poise. It used to work on you before, but it often irks you now. The way he dazzles people to get what he wants. You would rather die than admit it was a characteristic of his that you envied.
He tugs at your braid before you walk away.
โSee you later, Twigs,โ he calls after you. A playful lilt to his voice.ย
โYou wonโt.โ
Satoru has you memorized. Since the two of you were five years old, he considered you his mirror image, though you never believed him.ย
Often, when he sees you now, his heart leaps the tiniest bit in his chest the same way it did when he was thirteen. Heโs gotten better at ignoring it. Heโs perfected the art of ignoring you ever since high school started.
He likes to indulge during times when youโre not looking. At the moment, youโre concentrated on a flower arrangement, a blush painted on your cheeks from the heat. Heโd watch you do this when you were kids, too. Your face would be in a concentrated frown, tongue peeking out. Nimble fingers perfecting an ikebana arrangement.ย
Sometimes he missed it. He decided long ago that it would be better if he didnโt.
You two had been inseparable since the day the Gojos' hired your mother as a maid. He remembered you hiding behind your motherโs legs, chewing on the end of one of your braids. You would stay in the guest house of the Gojo estate with your mother, and you would become Satoruโs best companion.ย
Both of your mothers would arrange playdates. Satoruโs mother wanted him out of her hair. Your mother wanted to work without your constant interruptions. You were needy, an only child, but Satoru would always please you with his company. It was why you adored him.
Heโd show you all his toys and teach you all the games that his extended family would show him to make you feel included. Heโd have you sleep in his bed, which would go under the radar until the two of you were fourteen. It would be innocent and wholesome. Satoru would show you the stars heโd learned about and you would look at him as if heโd hung them in the sky himself.ย
Satoru often reminisces about the shape of your body to this day. Sometimes, he misses it when heโs alone in his king-sized bed in the winter. Even with the heat on, thereโs still something missing, and then he thinks of you.
When you were kids, youโd sleep together, legs and arms intertwined. Drool on the same pillow. Wake up to an abundance of pancakes from your mother.
You had been half a friend, half a plaything. Satoruโs counterpart. Feet kicking each other under the breakfast table.ย
At age five, youโd seen the same curse together. A harmless thing, chameleon-like, with eight legs on each side. It had a nasty face, one that you had recognized from your nightmares. It had been exciting at first, knowing that you shared the same ability as your best friend. You believed that you would grow with him and become as talented as him.
But that was an exaggeration. Satoru's parents knew how isolating it would be for their son to be the strongest. Your technique never came.
Satoru acted as your protector, then. Expelled the small, vicious curses in the corners of your room like they were bugs. Youโd watch him train, his body overgrowing with knobby knees as you sat on the sidelines. And while you grew up with him, you only got smaller in his periphery. Always lesser. Always weaker.
Itโs the reason youโd grown apart. At least thatโs what he tells himself.ย
Satoru had grown into a tall, arrogant child. He treated school as a hobby and still made the highest marks, which angered you to no end. It didnโt matter to him, anyway, knowing that heโd become a company's CEO or the best jujutsu sorcerer in the world. He had his future in the palm of his hands. You were not a part of that. You werenโt even sure of a future of your own.
Sometimes he would have nightmares of you dying in his arms at the hands of a curse too big for him to control. During adolescence, he experienced many threats to his safety. He knew he couldn't live with himself. He couldnโt bear to see you endure the same.ย
So, without explanation, Satoru Gojo pretended you didnโt exist. He exchanged the necessary niceties in school and when you'd come over with your mother, though he'd never ask you to stay the same way he had when you were kids. He was often occupied with new friends, anyway. Often busy working on his technique. Nothing that was your business, of course.
You resented him for it.ย
Now, youโre enduring your last year of high school with him, and you are trying so badly to be good. You should aim to make good enough marks to attend a decent university on a decent scholarship. God knows you arenโt fit for the world of jujutsu sorcery.ย
In a way, youโre okay with the mundanity of your life. Satoruโs absence in your heart convinced you of that.ย
Satoruโs attendance at school is only an illusion of normalcy for his parents. His mother insists on it. Barely a sorcerer herself, she had wanted to give her son the option of living a normal life. With his grades and wit, she knew that he could easily be successful as a businessman or a doctor.ย
Despite this, Satoru knew he would enroll in Tokyoโs Jujutsu Technical College with Suguru. He had met Suguru when he was fifteen, trying to exorcise a curse that only got snatched by a dark-haired thief, one who would end up as his best friend.ย
Satoru saw Suguru as his only equal. He had no one else to relate to about jujutsu sorcery.ย
Certainly not you.
But still, he was closing another year of high school, his last. Then he could be free from his parentsโ restraints. It was easy for him to be the best and make the most friends. It was a shame that heโd have to leave them all behind.ย
Youโre a ghost in Satoruโs wake. Always near, never faltering yet never consuming too much space. As the school year progresses, he ignores you like a mosquito bite. Harmless but still itching his skin. Always reminded of your presence even when you do nothing to draw attention to yourself.ย
And then there are times that you do.
โIโm sorry, sensei,โ you mumble, stunned in the doorway of the classroom.
Itโs a nondescript weekday in May, one thatโs wet with rain, which explains your damp hair and clothes. Your appearance conjures a succession of snickers. The sound of low laughter taunting you and whispers gossiping about you.
Youโre too tired for it. You donโt want to be here at all.
โIโm disappointed,โ your teacher relays. โYouโre usually never tardy.โ
โIt wonโt happen again,โ you muster.
You hear more whispers. It hangs on your shoulders as you sit in your seat, still and heavy as you attempt to take notes.
Shouldโve worn something more sheer, than sheโd get the attention she wants, huh?
Nah, not like her tits are even good enough to be seen like that.
Bet sheโs hiding something from all of us. Maybe we can get her to strip in the girlsโ locker room and give us a show later.
โShut the fuck up,โ a voice growls. You hear it, turning your head, and your eyes fall on Satoruโs fiery blues.ย
You wonder if the feeling of his gaze searing into the back of your head is worth mentioning. It makes your face hotter, the flush of humiliation warming your neck as your peers snicker at you.
You manage to get through class without crying. Haru, a boy you were closer with in previous years, offers his sweatshirt to you as you collect your things.ย
โSheโs good,โ Satoru interrupts as you strip off your damp sweater. Within seconds, he has you under his arm. He ushers you out the classroom door. His oversized jacket drapes over your shoulders.
โGojo,โ you hiss. โHe was just being nice.โ
โOr he wanted to see you in a wet t-shirt. I donโt think white was the best move for today, by the way.โ
Your face heats up when you look down. You realize the extent of skin thatโs visible from the sheerness of your damp white shirt. It mortifies you more when you realize that Satoru had caught it first.
โRight. Thanks,โ you mumble, hiking up your bookbag tighter on your shoulder.ย
โSo helpless sometimes,โ Satoru sighs. He shoots you a devilish smile that combats your scowling frown. โWhy donโt you call me by my first name here?โ
โBecause weโre in school and itโs polite.โ
"Twigs, are you scared of being associated with me?"
He blocks the door of your locker, leaning against it and towering over you. Satoru had always taken up as much space as possible without a care in the world. You were the opposite -โ always compartmentalizing yourself to be smaller. Malleable. Amicable.
Heโs too close for comfort, nearly breathing down your neck. He only moves when you kick him pathetically in the shin.
Satoruโs smile only grows bigger as you ignore him. He wonders if he could get your fuse to blow in front of him right now. This place is usually where youโre composed, regal, and expedient. One of the schoolโs top students.ย
He knew you had an edge to you, wild as you were when he had known you as a child. But you had only grown to be responsible and sensible. He thinks that his mother would be relieved if he acted more like you.
โComing home with me or what?โ Satoru quips. The way he says it makes your stomach stir. It's an almost salacious suggestion despite its innocence. Satoru always made everything sound more exciting than it was.
โWhy would I?โ you raise a brow.
โMy mother would like to see you. She told me she had some hand-me-downs for you to try on." You know Iโd love nothing more than to see you parade around my house dressed like my mother in the 70s.โ He grins in amusement.
โOkay, sure, whatever.โ
โYo, Satoru!โย
His head whips around to see one of his buddies, crowded around other jocks. Satoru is quick to leave you without so much as a goodbye.ย
July, 2008
After your semester, you end up second to Satoru. Itโs no surprise to you despite how much it infuriates you. You are never anything more or less.ย
"Congratulations, Twigs," Satoru murmurs to you. He startles you from your thoughts. You slam your locker closed.
โWhy are you still calling me that?โ
โBecause youโre my Twigs,โ he pouts.
Yours. Itโs a funny lie. Satoru Gojo was a lot of things, but he would never be yours. Sleeping with him in his bed as a child didnโt grant you that kind of closeness anymore. Within these halls, you walk past each other like strangers.
He pouts childishly like he always does. Thereโs a devilish spark in his blue eyes underneath his sunglasses, though you can barely make out his irises from his height. Satoruโs growth spurt had him at over six feet tall by the time he was sixteen. It was obvious that heโd only grow taller.ย
You scoff, rolling your eyes at the nickname. If you were in middle school again, the notion would warm your heart. It had been a stupid nickname heโd tease you with ever since you were both ten. You had been angry at him for reasons that escaped you, climbing up the tree in the backyard of his estate as high as you could until he begged you to come down.
You wouldnโt, of course. You were always stubborn like that, and Satoru loved it.ย
You were also much clumsier when you were ten, slipping your foot as you attempted to climb a different branch and falling into Satoruโs arms. It had been a miracle you didnโt break any bones, but thanks to Satoruโs freakish strength, you were unharmed. Only disheveled with leaves and twigs stuck in your frizzy hair. He had called you Twigs ever since.ย
โIโm not your anything. Even if my mother is still your fucking maid.โ
โArenโt you my maid, too? My little servant?โ he teases.ย
You wonder if he knows how cruel it is, even if itโs a little joke.
โIโm nothing to you,โ you mumble. You attempt to hold a faster stride on your walk home. Maybe youโd advance enough to leave him in the dust. You could be the best runner on the track team if you managed that.
But you wouldnโt. You wouldnโt leave him, couldnโt. Not a chance.
โWhat was that?โ Satoru calls after you.
โNothing!โ
โSlow down,โ he whines, running fast enough to follow your stride, much to your annoyance. Him and his stupid, long legs. His taunting smile. โDonโt you wanna come over?โ
โWhy would I?โ
โYour momโs probably there. And we can celebrate the end of exams.โ
He laughs again, the sound twinkling in your ears like a beloved song. It makes your cheeks warm. You donโt want him to see it.ย
Yet, he wraps his arms around you, chin nestled to your collarbone as if you were joined together. In a blink, the two of you are in his kitchen, with whiplash only an after-effect. You still hadnโt gotten used to his ability to warp.
โI hate when you do that.โ
โYou like it, I know you do,โ Satoru taunts. โIt excites you. I can tell because your cheeks get all flushed.โ
โThey do not!โ
โSure, they donโt, Twigs.โย
โYouโre annoying,โ you huff, dropping your school bag on a chair.
Satoru greets your mother with a kiss on the cheek as you follow behind him. She has tea prepared in the sitting room for you and him, along with dorayaki and matcha Swiss rolls.
โYour momโs the fucking best,โ he muses as he gobbles down a third roll. You watch him in feigned disgust. Sipping your tea, you mumble something unintelligible in agreement.
โWhat, you arenโt hungry?โ
โNo.โ
โTry this.โ
โI have. Sheโs my mom.โ
โCโmon, Twigs, open up.โย
Satoru leans over the table with a Swiss roll between his fingers, waving it in front of your face. Thereโs no point in protesting -โ heโd probably knock something over from his eagerness to annoy you. You part your lips to take a bite, and at the same time, he shoves it into your mouth.
โSatoru!โ you groan.
โStay still.โ
You swallow your bite and he wipes his fingertips on the corner of your mouth. Heโs close enough to feel your breath on his face, licking up the frosting on his thumb nonchalantly. He chuckles at the flustered look painting your face into a scowl.
โIโm done. Iโm going to do the dishes.โย
You excuse yourself to retreat to the kitchen before you can so much as make eye contact with Satoru again. He has to be teasing you with his small touches. Itโs something he wouldโve done when you were twelve, yet the notion now would be different.ย
The two of you were in completely different social spheres. He had separated himself from you years prior. It would be a rare sight for him to be so touchy with you in public, acting as if you were like him.ย
Someone who had a big kitchen. Someone who didnโt have to think about expenses.
Itโs a miracle that he leaves you alone as you clean the kitchen, washing dishes to keep your mind occupied. After youโre done, you decide to cut up a bowl of strawberries. You knew they were Satoruโs favorite. Knowing him, heโd still crave something sweet after demolishing all the desserts.
You nick yourself. A careless act โ you arenโt paying attention, mistaking the sharp side of the knife for the dull one. It slices the inside of your thumb. Cursing under your breath, you hover your hand over the wound. You heal it within milliseconds without so much as a second thought.
This is when Satoru kicks at something. The wall or a potted plant, you donโt know. But itโs a plea for attention and it brings your focus to him, your head snapping up to meet his gaze and his childish pout.ย
โI saw that,โ he says, lowly.
You freeze under his scrutiny. You donโt say anything.
โSo youโve been lying to me.โ Itโs a seething accusation instead of a question.
He gets so close to you without you even noticing. He towers over you again, swallowed by the whole of his shadow, and his betrayed frown is petulant like a childโs.ย
โSatoruโโ
โYou said you didnโt have a cursed technique.โ
โIโI didnโt. Not until laterโโ
โWhen?โ
Your eyes are wide as you look up at him, hands trembling. He takes a step forward, taking up more space. It reminds you of your worth. The mere fact of him belittles you in that way.
โWhen I was thirteen. My kitten, Aki. The stray. You remember him, donโt you?โ
โI do.โ
โHe got hit by a car one day, and I couldnโt stop sobbing. And I was holding him in my hands all bloody. And then, I brought him back to life. It just happened.โ
โWhy didnโt you tell me?โ
You search Satoruโs face. Thereโs a bit of betrayal in it, mostly surprise. It boils your blood in the slightest bit โ because why is it so shocking that you ended up with a cursed technique? You may have hidden it from him for a few years, but was it something so unimagined for you?
You assumed that you would always be a plaything in Satoruโs eyes. Something so easy, so useless.
โIt wasnโt enough,โ you exasperate.ย
โWhat the fuck is that supposed to mean?โ
โIt doesnโt matter. None of it does, Satoru. Itโs soโโ
Insignificant. Small compared to you.
He waits, swallowing the lump in his throat. Eyes flaring like comets.
โIt doesnโt matter,โ you repeat. โI donโt even want to be a sorcerer, and even if I wanted to be, I could never keep up with you. I donโt see the point in pursuing this if Iโm better off just studying at a normal universityโโ
โAre you fucking kidding me? Your technique is amazing. Itโs like Shokoโs! You couldโve โโ
โSatoru,โ you emphasize. Your tone shuts him up, your hardened gaze, the lightning in your eyes bright and sharp. Menacing, even. You can sense the sound of him swallowing, a lump lodged in his throat loud enough for you to hear.
White lashes flutter. A frown is still displayed on his face. Itโs now that he notices the slight bags under your eyes. Evidence of burden, of nights spent awake under the unforgiving moonlight.
You look at him in a way that feels damning โ like youโre coaxing something from him. He knows better โ knows that his anger is misplaced, that youโre right.
You having a healing technique is nothing compared to him. Even then, he knows that you probably arenโt interested in combat or the world of jujutsu sorcery in general. It doesnโt affect him so negatively. So what is he so angry about?
The question is in your eyes, pleading. He already knows the answer despite not admitting it to himself. He knows that the prospect of you having a cursed technique doesnโt mean youโre stronger than him. He assumes you wouldnโt surpass him, and wouldnโt think you to be someone who would even think about it.ย
Satoru knows heโs angry because he feels very close to you. He had at least thought he was close enough with you to know about your cursed technique. It was finding out that you were hiding it from him that made him angry. Learning that you had it manifest in front of you and didnโt bother to fucking tell him about it.
He canโt voice any of these frustrations. He knows youโd yell at him, and criticize him for thinking heโs entitled to you. Itโs inappropriate and unfair, but in his younger years, he often felt that he was entitled to you. Heโd known you since you were so very little, so vulnerable. He had protected you from all those curses, hadnโt he? He held you in his arms in his bed for years. That had to have meant something to you. It certainly meant something to him.ย
โSorry. I just wish you told me earlier,โ he says softly.ย
You apologize. Meek beneath him, eyes avoiding him.ย
โI know,โ you sigh. โI have to go. Iโll see you later, Satoru.โ
You donโt see him for a week and a half. It should be typical to you. Itโs not like him to reach out or go out of his way to see you. Heโd always been like that, giving you no expectations. And yet, his radio silence had crawled under your skin.
Itโs stupid to expect him, anyway. Thereโs no reason for him to show up at yours, much more of a reason for you to show up at his, but you donโt need to. Your mother does that for her job and it has nothing to do with you.
Thereโs a Tuesday thatโs so quiet, so plain that even the rain falters after two hours to only grant the town wet pavement. Youโre curled up with a book in your living room when you hear a succession of knocks on your door. An erratic rhythm, the same as the special knock you would use with Satoru.
Itโs him, of course. He smirks at you, an oversized t-shirt loose off of his lanky figure. You try not to fixate on the sweat of his exposed collarbone. You look him straight in the eyes through his pitch-black sunglasses.
He has a large bouquet in his hands. He grins at you. For the first time in a little while, you feel brave.
โConfessing your love to me this afternoon, are you?โ you pester, a brow raised.
Something like that, Satoru thinks.
โYou wish.โย
He walks past you, brushing your shoulders much to your annoyance. He sets the bouquet on your kitchen table in its little jar, peonies drooping despite how hard he tries to fix them.
โItโs from my mom to yours. As a thank you and a birthday wish and stuff.โ
โThanks,โ you murmur. โThatโs very sweet of her.โ
He hums in agreement, rocking his heels back and forth as his eyes roam your house. It isnโt his first time here, but he acts the part, hands buried in his pockets as he observes you like a wild animal.ย
โWill that be all?โ
โDunno,โ Satoru shrugs. โWhat were you up to before I showed up?โ
You shrug, too, attempting to mirror his nonchalance. You had long ago buried your paperback in a drawer, promising to return to it by the time Satoru left. But still, he lingers, in front of you, taking up unnecessary space in your childhood home. Too tall and too pretty.
โJust cleaning my room,โ you lie.ย
โCan I see it?โ
โWhy?โ
โBeen a while,โ he shrugs. โIโm just curious.โ
โWell, itโs a mess right now. I didnโt get very far.โ
โLike I care,โ Satoru chuckles.ย
He stares at you for a bit, heartbeats passing the time in your head. Fuck, heโs serious. Heโs already leaning towards the staircase.
โOkay.โ
Youโre hyper-aware of him behind you, eyes exploring the length of your body. If you had known that he would show up unannounced, you wouldโve changed into one of your long dresses or a pair of jeans. At the moment, you feel too bare in your tank top and corduroy shorts. You feel like a child outgrown.
Satoru takes up as much space as usual, long limbs splayed over your tiny twin bed. You donโt permit him to sit on your bed, but he does it anyway. He looks at the pictures on your wall, takes in the sweet smell of your sheets. Itโs similar to your clothes, your flesh. Your hair. Heโd live in it if he could.
โHow cute.โ He gestures to a cat plushie by the head of your bed.ย
โDonโt make fun of me.โ
โIโm not!โ Satoru laughs. โIt is cute. Itโs so you.โ
A certain fervor blossoms in your gut at that. The image of him stretched out on your little bed. Despite your closeness with him when you were younger, he had never spent much time at your house. It took you a few years to understand why.
โYou should invite me over more often.โ
โI donโt invite you over ever.โ
โWell, you could start.โ
โWhy?โ You stand by the wall, shifting your weight towards it as you lean backward. You cross your arms in defense, even though he hasnโt said anything to provoke you yet.
โItโs comfy here. I like it.โ
โThanks?โ
He sings your name, beckoning you to him. You take three steps at most, holding your breath. Standing in front of his knees.
โCome sit, Twigs.โ
โTold you not to call me that,โ you breathe.
โDonโt care,โ he grins.ย
He reaches out to you, pulling you between his knees with a hand on your waist. He smirks at the sound of your gasp as he tugs at your wrist.ย
โIn my lap. Cโmere.โ
Itโs difficult to refuse Satoru Gojo. His eyes drink you in, ocean blues glimmering and reflecting the afternoon sunlight. Youโre still between his thighs. He tugs you without much effort, making you stumble into him. Your hands hold onto his shoulders as you settle into his lap. He holds the small of your back as you straddle him.
โWanna try something.โ
You say nothing. Your eyes flutter closed when you feel his fingertips grazing your jaw.
Thereโs a softness against your mouth. You donโt dare open your eyes.
You sense a sharp inhale behind the lips that kiss you, but they stay. Wetting between your mouth with the slight of a tongue. Tasting sweet like honeysuckle.
You whine, opening your mouth a bit more. You swallow down divinity. It's misguided affection that you had wished for when you were so much smaller. It might mean something bigger to you now if you thought about it for longer. You donโt want to. You refuse to.
But Satoru kisses you hard, excited and eager. His tongue peeks into your mouth and you taste strawberries. Lips soft and supple and melting against yours.
He groans, fisting your hair in his hand as he deepens the kiss, falling more and more into you. He smiles against your mouth as he coaxes a small sound out of you. It crawls out of your throat for him to taste with satisfaction. Heโs always dreamed of you in his lap, but he could never tell you that.
Youโre breathless, weak, and melting into him as he wraps his arms around you. Caging you in so that you canโt escape. So fucking warm in his embrace.ย
It takes a second for you to notice the hardness growing underneath you. It prods your center as you mindlessly grind into Satoruโs lap. When you realize, you squeak in embarrassment, and he clutches you harder.
You sigh into each other, eating the other up. Heat surges through you, from your forehead down to your core, to your weak, sensitive legs. Hot from the feeling of him in your mouth. Hot from the proximity of your core to his.
You pull away, exhaling unevenly as you try to catch your breath. Youโre shy under his gaze, unwrapping yourself and covering your body as if youโre naked.
โWhat is it?โ
โNothing.โ
โYouโre so cute,โ he chuckles. โActing like that was your first kiss.โ
โWhat if it was?โ
He raises a brow as you look away with flushed cheeks. Youโre still on his lap and he takes the opportunity to remind you of this, shifting you in his lap and causing friction. Your eyes are wide as you quickly attempt to untangle your limbs with his.
โThat was your first kiss?โ
โYeah.โ
You roll your eyes at the sight of his leering smile. God, you knew this would happen. Satoru would never let you live it down.
โIโm going to kick you outโโ
โNo.โย
He grasps your wrist in his hand. Itโs small compared to his palm, engulfing you. His other hand grips your hip firmly but softly. He only moves it to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin.
โHow was it? Tell me.โ
โGood,โ you breathe. โFelt good.โ
For the first time in a long time, he looks at you like you have invented something new. Thereโs a bit of astonishment. Wonder and admiration. Maybe you were getting ahead of yourself. You were easily deluding yourself with the expression of his sapphire blue eyes.ย
โFelt good for me, too.โ
โYeah?โ
โYeah.โ
โWhy did you do that?โ you ask, giggling nervously.ย
โJust wanted to.โ
โI want you to kiss me again,โ you whisper.
โI want to do more than that,โ Satoru mumbles. But he knows better. Itโs the best decision for him to get you off his lap right now before he loses composure.
You both hear the sound of your front door opening as if itโs timed -- your mother.ย
โIโll kiss you later, okay?โ Satoru murmurs.
โYou will?โ
โMy parents will be gone this weekend. To Okinawa. You should come over on Saturday.โ
hey friends! i have been away because iโve been working as hard as i can to pay for school. the more shifts i pick up, the longer it takes me to actually get updates finished and out of my drafts. the way things are looking, i will be working during nearly every moment of my free time to pay for tuition. i owe about $628 for last semester, and $1450 for my next one. i am not eligible for federal student loans, and while iโve applied for grants and scholarships, iโve been doing it all by myself.
if i could drop to one day a week at my part time, i would be able to spend a lot more time writing, which would make me (and hopefully you guys) extremely happy.
here is a link to my ko-fi, if anyone feels like they have cash to spare. as always, thank you for supporting and inspiring me! โค๏ธ๐๐พ
Omg I need to admit something, so english is my second language and Iโve been using detergent instead of deterrent for the longest time because I forgot what the word was after I saw it on yr blog until somebody asked me what I meant
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I can't stand him. I love him so much I actually can't look at him. It effects me physically like I have to kill him with hammers immediately. I have a smash a barrel . over his head
smut is awesome but the tags are flooded with such exaggerated filth (derogatory) that some of it is borderline unreadable. and quite frankly not erotic at all. itโs oversaturated and gaudy and tacky w excessive use of italics etc etc please read a book that makes you feel something
I also feel like the trend of short smut blurbs for several characters just makes it all the more unerotic. and donโt get me wrong โ iโve loved a lot of writing in that format if the theme is interesting. but otherwise itโs sex without context instead of any exploration of relationship dynamics that makes smut actually interesting. everyoneโs attention span is so low that so many of you are just craving mindless porn thatโs essentially the written equivalent of a bad hentai. narrative drives the erotic!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
โ Live Streamingโ Interactive Chatโ Private Showsโ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch โข No registration required โข HD streaming