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You make your way down the familiar hallway. The building feels quieter than usual tonight. Your steps echo softly against the polished floors. You know exactly where to find him. Satoru always ends up in his office when the weight of everything presses down too hard. He waits for you there now. Like he always does.
The door stands slightly ajar as you reach for the handle, pushing it open gently, and there he sits. Satoru's face is tilted toward the ceiling. That signature blindfold still covers his eyes. At first glance, he looks relaxed. Shoulders loose. Body settled deep into the chair. But you know Satoru better than anyone. You know the tiny tells that give him away.
You step closer, quietly. Careful not to disturb whatever moment he has carved out for himself, but the closer you get, the clearer it becomes. His breathing comes uneven, and his jaw tightens just a fraction. Something heavy lingers in the air around him, and you pause a few feet away. Heart already aching for the man you love.
"Satoru," you call out softly. His name leaves your lips like a gentle caress.
He shifts just ever so slightly. One hand rises. He tugs the blindfold up with a slow motion. Those pretty blue eyes meet yours. Glassy and puffy around the edges. Tear tracks glisten on his flushed cheeks. He's been crying. The sight of him like this hits you square in the chest. Your strong, pretty boy with his perfect white hair and those endless blue eyes. Reduced to quiet tears in the dim office light.
You don't hesitate, crossing the remaining distance with quick steps and you slip into his lap. Comfortable and familiar. He lets you settle there without resistance. His body welcomes yours even if his hands stay still at first. He doesn't hide his face. Doesn't turn away. That alone tells you how much he needs this.
You cup his face with both hands. Thumbs brushing lightly over his cheekbones. His eyes flutter close. He leans into your touch. Savours it like it is the only thing anchoring him to the present. You lean in and press soft kisses across his forehead. Down his temples. Along the damp paths where tears have fallen. Your thumb swipes gently over the tracks. Wiping them away with care.
"It is okay," you tell him softly, voice staying low and steady, full of all the love you carry for him.
Your fingers move slowly, stroking along his hairline. Combing those soft white strands back from his face. You touch the shell of his ear lightly. Trace the curve with tenderness, and it makes him shudder under your hands. A full body reaction that makes your heart swell. Your touch always makes him feel loved. Cared for, seen in ways no one else ever manages.
Time settles gently between you. The office fades into the background. Just the two of you wrapped in this quiet moment. You keep stroking his hair. Keep pressing those gentle kisses to his skin. His breathing evens out bit by bit, till the tension in his shoulders melts away under your attention.
Slowly, both his hands settle on your waist. Fingers spreading wide. Gripping with a need that speaks louder than words. He pulls you closer into his chest. You hug him back without hesitation. Arms wrapping around his neck. Face tucked into the crook of his shoulder. His warmth surrounds you. That familiar scent of him fills your senses. Clean and sweet. With a hint of something uniquely Satoru.
You stay like that for a long while. Minutes blend together. His heartbeat thuds steady against you. Your fingers keep moving through his hair in soothing patterns. Tracing small circles at the nape of his neck. He holds you tighter. Like letting go might make the world crash back in too soon.
Eventually he shifts. Just enough to bury his face deeper into your neck. His breath ghosts warm across your skin. He breathes you in. Deep and slow. Like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded.
"Thank you," he mutters quietly into your neck. The words vibrate against you. Raw. Honest. Full of everything he can't say out loud right now.
You squeeze him a little harder. Press one more kiss to his temple. No need to ask why the tears came. No need to push for explanations. He'll tell you when he's ready as he always does. You're the only person he trusts with his vulnerability. For now, this is enough. You in his lap. Him in your arms. The office quiet around you both. His pretty blue eyes dry now. Hidden once more against your skin.
The world outside can wait. The missions. The burdens. The endless expectations placed on the strongest. Here in this moment he is just Satoru. Your Satoru. White hair mussed from your fingers. Face soft and open in a way only you get to see. You keep holding him. Keep whispering soft reassurances against his ear. Your touch never falters.
Relaxing further into you. Legs shifting to pull you even closer if possible. A quiet sigh escapes him. Content and grateful. The tears have stopped, but the need for closeness lingers. You give it freely. Running your nails lightly over his scalp. Eliciting another small shudder that makes you smile against his hair.
Outside the window, the city lights twinkle. Inside this office, it's like only the two of you exist. You stroke his back now. Slow steady passes of your palm. Feeling the muscles loosen under your care. He nuzzles closer. Lips brushing your collarbone in a wordless thank you. You hum softly. A little melody you know he likes. The sound shared sweet between you.
This is where you belong. In his lap. In his arms. Offering comfort when the weight of his world grows too heavy. He knows it too.
His hands roam a little now. Not demanding. Just tracing the curve of your waist. Up your spine. Anchoring himself in the reality of you. Solid. Warm. His. You tilt your head and kiss his jaw. Then his cheek. Then, the corner of his mouth. He turns just enough to catch your lips in a soft lingering press. No heat. Just pure connection. A silent promise that he feels better already.
You pull back enough to rest your forehead against his. Eyes locked. Those beautiful blues still a little red rimmed but clearer now. You smile at him. Small and full of love. He returns it. Weak at first, then stronger. That signature Satoru grin peeking through the vulnerability.
You comb his hair back once more. Fingers lingering at his ears. He shudders again. This time, with a soft laugh that rumbles in his chest. The sound makes everything lighter. You kiss him again. Deeper this time. Pouring all your affection into it. He responds in kind. Hands tightening on your waist.
The hug resumes. Closer now. More settled. His face returns to your neck. Breathing you in like oxygen. You hold him through it all. Minutes turning into longer stretches of quiet comfort. The office feels warmer. Safer, because he has you.
Eventually his voice breaks the silence once more. Still quiet. Still tucked against your skin.
"Thank you," he repeats. Simpler this time. But no less meaningful.
You whisper back that he never has to thank you. That you will always find him. Always come to him. Always hold him like this. Your fingers never stop their gentle movements. Hair. Neck. Back. Shoulders. Every touch reinforcing the love between you.
He stays in your lap. You stay wrapped around him. The night deepens and, this moment, is a beautifully kept secret. Lively in its tenderness. Full of all the unspoken things that make your bond unbreakable. Your pretty boy with the white hair and those pretty blue eyes. Safe. Loved. Cherished in your arms. Exactly where he belongs.
.˚𓈒✦ ݁･˖ 𝓕.𝑻𝑶𝑱𝑰 ݁･✧𓈒˚. likes your happy trail & 𝒃𝒖𝒔𝒉!? 𝟏𝟖+ 𝒎𝒅𝒏𝒊 ꒰ 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 ⋮⋮ reader has body hair ⋮⋮ touching / playing with your happy trail & bush ⋮⋮ 𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒍 f. rec ⋮⋮ pussy worship ꒱
You were curled into the solid warmth of Toji’s arm. His thick bicep cradled your head like a pillow made just for you. The steady beat of his heart thumped slow against your cheek. Your phone glowed soft in your hands as you scrolled through the never ending ‘for you’ page lazily.
His other hand rested heavy on the soft curve of your tummy. Right under your navel. Thick fingers tracing the fine line of hair that grew there. Your apparent happy trail. It started soft and sparse then thickened lower. Disappearing into the waistband of your panties where dense curls covered your cunt completely.
Toji never minded the hair. The man was touch driven in every way and your bush had become his favourite fidget every time his hand wandered naturally to your cunt. He'd pet it for hours. Twist the curls around his fingers. Tugging at them gently like the texture calmed something restless in him.
Tonight his focus stayed locked on the sparse curls under your navel. He kept pulling at the soft strands. A little too hard. The constant tugging started to sting in a way that made your skin sensitive. You shifted against his body. Slid your own fingers down and covered his hand, trying to hinder him ever so slightly.
He ignored your attempts and pushed your hand away at once. Voice low and rough against your hair. “let me play with it.”
You exhaled once, deeply and tried again. Fingertips brushing of his knuckles. He swatted them off without looking down where his hands were. This little struggle continued for a couple minutes between you. Soft laughs mixed with quiet protests. Your hand kept nudging, his kept shoving you aside.
Eventually he grew tired of this little game. The bed dipped as he sat up. Cool air rushed in where his body had been.
“Where are you going?” you asked. Voice soft with curiosity, a little sadness mixed in as if you were disappointed he was leaving you now.
He picked up on it instantly but didn't bother to give you an answer. His emerald eyes flicked towards your face silently, then to your upper torso. Instead, he moved between your thighs. Heavy hands settled on either side of your waist. He lowered his face to your tummy. Warm breath ghosted over your skin first. Then his tongue dragged slowly and wet across your navel. He sucked at the soft flesh. Pulled it between his lips and kissed it open-mouthed and deep.
You squirmed. Palms pressing soft to his face. Trying to push him back. “toji…”
He murmured against your belly. The words vibrating into your skin. “What don’t like me appreciating you even if you haven’t shaved, Doll? you know I don’t mind… hair and all..”
Heat flooded your cheeks and lower. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, tugging them down in one smooth motion. You lifted your hips without thinking. Cool air kissed your uncovered cunt. Thick curls dark and full. Completely natural. His lips tugged into a lazy smile looking at your pussy like it— you, were something precious.
He looked up at you. Green eyes dark with hunger. "Can't help it doll. You're too fucking perfect."
Toji kissed down your plush mound. Slow and tenderly. His tongue licked over the hair. Wetting the strands until it glistened with his saliva. Big hands caressing your thighs then parting them wider, he spread your folds open with his thumbs. Exposed your clit. Then lower, his mouth found your soft slick cunt completely.
Your grip loosened on the phone and it fell without a care onto the bed. Fingers tangled tight in the sheets instead. His tongue lapped at your cunt in broad hungry strokes. Focused and endlessly circling your clit. Dipping further. Inside, tasting every fold. Your thighs trembled around his head. Soft moans spilled from your lips.
A single hair got caught on his tongue during one deep lick. He didn't stop or pull away. As a man who knew your body by heart, he simply licked the soft skin of your inner thigh. Cleared it off without a word. Then returned to eating you like nothing had happened. You loved when he did that, it kinda tickled. The quiet care hidden inside the filth. The way he made sure you never felt self-conscious for even a second.
He kept going. Tongue relentless on your slick-sweet flesh, pleasure building sharp and overwhelming as your hips rolled against his mouth. Hands fisting the sheets harder. The wet sounds of him licking filled the quiet room, moaning into you like he was the one being spoiled.
Toji didn't stop until you came hard. Body arching off the bed. Thighs clamping around his head. Waves of heat crashed through you while he drank every bit of it. Slow licks easing you down from the peak, till your fingers lifted and found their way into raven hair, clutching tight at the strands till he groaned.
He crawled back up your body. Kissed you deep and slow. The taste of you still strong on his tongue. Between the kisses he whispered against your lips. “You never have to shave if you don’t want to.. I love you either way.”
His arms wrapped around you again. Pulling you tight against his chest. The moment settled back into warmth and perfection. His hand drifted back to your tummy. Fingers resting gentle on that happy trail once more. This time you let him play as long as he wanted.
Toji pulled the blanket over both of you. His fingers traced idle patterns through your curls again. But lighter now. Content. You let him. Because with him it never felt like something to hide. It felt like being free.
Eventually his breathing evened out. Yours followed. Yet every so often his hand would dip lower. Brush through the thick hair covering your cunt. A quiet reminder. He loved you like this. Hair and all.
You drifted off with his scent surrounding you. His body heat warmed you perfectly. Keeping you close to him, safe and wanted.
your thighs shake, threatening to close shut, but enjin’s knees simply push down, forcing them to stay open for him. “shhh, i know, i know,” he coos. “but you need to let me take a good look at ‘er.”
he’d found his way into your room, as he always does after a mission, but today you had truly surprised him. with a pillow squished between your legs, you’d been humping the poor thing like a desperate girl, soaking the fabric with your slick as you whined enjin’s name into the sheets.
“so much of your pretty juices gone to waste…didn’t i tell you i’m the only one who gets to taste them?” he holds that very same pillow to his face, nose shoved into the wet patch to take a looong whiff of it before discarding it back on the mattress. “answer me.”
“y-yes! yes, you did,” you reply with a jagged breath. both his inked hands lay on each side of your pussy, thumbs spreading your puffy folds. “hmm…she’s missed me alright,” enjin hums, voice holding a guttural purr. “couldn’t even wait for me to come back and fuck her.”
“‘m sorry,” you whine immediately. “so, so sorry, jin. i just - aah! - you were gone the whole day—”
“and?” he interjects, cocking up a dark honey brow. “today it was your pillow…what about next time? you’re gonna go look for someone else’s cock?” a thumb slides up to your clit, meanly pressing down on it.
“no!” you cry out, tears beading at the corners of your eyes at the confusing sting, between pain and pleasure. “no, no, i would never!”
he eases, lifting his digit just to spit a rude, fat wad over your poor nub before drawing a few gentler, soothing circles over it. “‘course you would never,” enjin laughs. “i dare you to find someone else who can fuck you like i do.”
his other hand moves, two mean digits invading your mouth without warning. you moan around them, swirling your tongue around his knuckles until they’re dripping with your drool so he can stuff them into your hole all at once. you keen, writhing at the stretch, but he’s got you pinned.
“aht aht, careful girl, let jinnie check how much of this greedy pussy you took away from me because you have no self control. ‘s kinda pathetic, isn’t it? better serve you as a lesson then.”
he moves his fingers around, scissoring your walls open as more and more slick pools, until even the smallest curl draws out the loudest squelch. his thumb is relentless, maintaining a slow, torturous pace over your clit, now fully peeking out and throbbing, perfect for him to abuse to his liking.
“please,” you heave, hands craving to touch him - his arms, his chest, anywhere - but you know better. “need you, need you so bad.”
enjin’s golden eyes had been focused on your cunt the whole time, lifting up lazily, almost as if addressing a nuisance. “so impatient,” he tuts. “you need to learn how to wait, dumb girl. couldn’t even go a day without my cock, i’m worried what might happen if i have to leave for longer! do you get it?”
you nod, a whimper bubbling into your throat when he keeps his fingers buried in to the hilt, pads working around your walls to find the sweet spot he knows will make you see stars. so he leans in, a grin dancing on his lips. “if you can hold it in and don’t cum until i say so, maybe i’ll give you my cock.”
/ disgusting pervert jinnie just give me a chance please :c i can be good
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.
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toji couldn’t pay for his haircut, so he found a better alternative...dick! mdni
the saturday evening’s sun was just beginning to make its descent, peeking its warm rays through the window’s blinds as you finished with the final touches. soft snips from sheers and scent of hair gel filled the living room, adding a perfect backdrop to the blaring sports commentator on the tv that he’d insisted on watching while you worked.
stepping back, you pulled off the black cape with a definitive whoosh.’ the final product was exactly what he’d asked for–tousled, wet-looking, and effortlessly messy.
“and we're done; i'll hand you the mirror in a sec.” you hummed, beginning to brush off any stray hairs that still lingered.
fingers sweeping over his broad shoulders, and maybe allowing your hand to slip lower, just to feel the flexed, hardened muscles that lay underneath. toji didn’t seem to notice your obvious attempts, or at least he didn’t care enough to comment, letting you feel him up like it was normal and managed a small grunt in response. he rolled his shoulders, shifting in the chair; the movement only made the compression shirt tighten, like a second skin, catching a whiff of his cologne, something masculine and dark, mixed with the two-in-one body wash he used.
"how much?"
the deep monotone voice pulled you out of the trance, not realizing how you’d practically been drooling over his abs.
“uh, thirty dollars.”
toji didn’t say anything, just fished around his sweatpants pockets, only to come out holding a piece of lint and a crumbled gum wrapper like a taunting peace offering.
he sucked his teeth, gaze slowly lifting to you. “aw shitt…i forgot my wallet back home, doll.”
it was a blatant lie, full of shit. he didn’t even bother to hide the amusement in his tone. but you weren’t having any of it.
“well, if you can’t pay, you’re going to do something,” you huffed softly, mind going to chores around your house, mowing the lawn, taking out the trash, something to make up for your services. though the moment you crossed your arms, pushing up those tits, toji had another idea in mind. and it wasn’t playing house husband.
“i got somethin’ in mind.”
you didn’t expect this to be what he was referring to: sweat-sheened limbs tangled, clothes optional, and hand cupped over your sapping maw to muffle those desperate moans.
“fuck you’re wetter than i imagined.” his head dipped, teeth grazed your nape, and heavy thighs bracketed your hips from behind.
“you been wantin’ this, huh? this pussy hoping i couldn’t pay?”
the headboard had banged against the wall nonstop the past fifteen minutes, bed springs creaking under your combined weight, every wet slap of his balls against your puffy clit punctuated with his deep grunts.
you moaned against his palm, feeling your skin heat up, thankful he couldn’t see your face in this position. you did want this, too embarrassed to admit it, imagining his cock stretching you, how deep it’d hit, how his skin would feel against yours. body jolting forward with each punishing snap of his cock, sliding in and out your soaked pussy.
“toji–too…much!” you whined out, clawing at the sheets desperately, but he wasn’t letting you run from it. a sharp smack rippled your skin, stinging instantly. “fuck!”
“you can take it, you’re already takin’ it so good, sweetheart,” he purred, a strangled chuckle vibrating against your skin as you whimpered and squirmed beneath him, his hands gripping your hips, holding you in place. “you said i had to pay, didn’t ya? and–” smack! “m’payin’ right now, baby. with this tight pussy.”
he was so deep, so big, so overwhelming, you could feel everything. every vein, the way thick length never stopped. you choked on your own spit, his palm covered in your saliva by now, eyes rolling and toes curling every time he found that spongy spot.
“fuck, grippin’ me so tight–hah–you like this shit don’t you?” he didn’t wait for a response, speeding up, his cock finally finding that sensitive spot, the one that made your back arch and grip threaten to circumcise his dick. “fuck, m’payin’ like this every time now, baby.”
the bed’s squeaking got more threatening, sure that it was close to snapping any second. it didn’t matter though, he was so gone he’d probably just keep fucking you anyway.
“you close?’ his lips found your ear, whispering almost softer.
“mhm–don’t stop!”
he groaned at the desperate muffled plea, fingers curling into your jaw, his hips now going faster, chasing your orgasm. “not leavin’ this pussy til it’s filled.” his hot breath ghosting your sensitive skin.
his free hand snaked around, finding your swollen, throbbing clit, the rough pad of his thumb rubbing tight circles. you choked on a muffled cry, your back bowing violently with shakes as your orgasm crashed. toji’s grip tightened on your waist, keeping you there.
“there it is…making such a mess on these pretty sheets, baby.” he didn’t stop, continuing to fuck you through it; even as he felt his orgasm on the verge of boiling over. he found every muffled sound you made incredibly hot, along with the sounds of his soaked length continuing to pound your oversensitive sobbing cunt deep. “such a fuckin’ squirter, your like a fire hydrant for me,” he teased, ignoring your embarrassed grumble.
a deep groan finally left his lips, burying his face in your back as he spilled thick hot ropes inside your welcoming walls. “fuckkk…”
after minutes of sticky chest heaving and heavy pants, he finally removed his hand, allowing you to breathe more clearly than you had the past thirty minutes. you rolled onto your back, and he mirrored the action, rolling onto his side to look at you. a mess, wrecked, and completely fucked by him.
“so, when we doin’ this again?” his rough hand surprisingly gentle, brushing back your hair.
“never. tell no one this happened, toji,” you muttered, lying through your teeth as you melted into his touch.
he smirked, pulled you closer, his large hand tucking you into his side as he continued stroking your back now, giving your ass a soft squeeze as his cum leaked.
“c’mon…don’t be like that, baby, you liked it.”
“mm.”
“can you at least fix my hair before i dip, or are we going another round first?”
you scoffed, but there was a trace of a smile on your lips. “you’re impossible.”
he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss there. “you like it. now answer the question before i decide.”
older woman!reader x frat!gojo, who gives him an eyebrow raise when swears up and down he'll give her the best dick of her life. but when you ask him 'what else can you offer to a woman?' he just goes 'what else is there?' and you burst out in laughter, patting his back. "oh, you poor thing...all that weed and liquor and partying really has fried your brain, you are hopeless."
older woman!reader x toji who loves to brag about his gambling and betting on horses, trying to use his smooth words to worm his way into a warm bed tonight, but the way you smile and fold your hands across your lap tells him more about you than he knew before. "it takes more than charm to get in my bed, fushiguro...but the couch welcomes you always."
older woman!reader x suguru who keeps thinking being mean and condescending is attractive, that teasing will get you wrapped around his finger...but the disgusted look on your face makes his heart drop. "and you have the nerve to call yourself a man? you are too old to be playing make believe, geto, get your shit together and learn how to talk to women, this is just sad."
𝜗𝜚 You have fun painting Suguru’s nails. He has even more fun watching them slide in and out of your mouth!
more like this
“Okay!” You say happily, smiling as you open your drawer. “Which colour will it be this week, Sugu?”
“Oh, I’m not sure.” He smiles, tossing his waterfall of hair over his shoulder. He’s peering into the same place you are, at the colour-coordinated rows of nail polish. Matte, glitter, shimmery, top coats and bottom coats, your drawer is practically Geto’s personal nail salon. “What about something darker this time?”
You pout dramatically. “But the pale blue with baby pink glitter was soooo nice last week, admit it. It was like bubblegum, you looked so cute.”
Geto laughs and reaches over into the drawer. “Hm. Maybe this one?”
You groan. “That’s so boring, Suguru. I can’t do black again-“
“Actually, gorgeous, the bottle says it’s ’midnight blue’, so you’re wrong.” You open your mouth to retort but he cuts you off. “Oh, and it even clarifies it’s ‘extra shimmery underwater for swimmers, surfers, and those of you who love taking long bubble baths!’ How lovely.”
You sigh and take the bottle. “Okay, hand.”
He obediently splays it out over a magazine on home decoration you’re using to prevent any spillage onto your floor as you both sit across from each other. You bend over to clean his fingernails of any lingering polish, the scent of the polish remover filling the room.
“That smells terrible.” He huffs.
You grin, never taking your eyes off his nails. “I’ll burn some incense later, don’t be so dramatic.”
As the brush glides up and down his nails, painting them that perfectly dark and glossy blue, Geto’s eyes drift- as they so often do- to you. You look so adorable, he thinks, concentrated upon doing this small gesture for him, legs folded one over the other. So adorable it stings- who allowed you to do this to him, seriously?
Oh, and it doesn’t hurt your tits look amazing in that tank top either, his violet irises catching on to the dip in your cleavage as you bend lower to apply a secondary coat of the shimmer. “Okay,” you say triumphantly, “that polish went on so well I doubt I’ll even need a third layer. Don’t you think, Sugu?”
“Mm. I agree.” He smiles, leaving his hands stationary to dry while he leans forward to kiss your cheek. “Thank you.”
You tidy away the polish, then leave the room to go take the food your boyfriend already prepared out of the oven. You exit by messing up his silky hair, knowing full well he hates when you do that but hates the idea of getting nail polish in it even more. He rolls his eyes. “Mature of you, pretty.”
You grin. “I know. Now, let your fingers dry so the extra shimmer can really come through.”
As he ponders on nothing while he waits, Geto’s thoughts slide back to the swirly writing on that bottle.
Extra shimmery underwater. Well, he doesn’t want to take a bath (because it’s an all-day affair, really, and you’ve already showered), he doesn’t want to go swimming this late- besides, won’t all the pools be closed?- and he doesn’t want to waste water by running the tap over his fingers for excess time just to see his nails sparkle.
But, because he’s Suguru Geto, he finds a solution pretty quickly.
“Ah-ahhh, open wider.” He hums at you. “I know you can be a good girl, hm?”
The room is softly lit and smells of incense, something calming and pleasant that seeps into your bedsheets. But you don’t feel particularly sleepy at all.
Your cheeks are burning. Two of Geto’s fingers are pushed inside your mouth, gently rubbing along the ridges of your tongue and feeling the soft tissue the inside of your cheek gives. “You really do look so beautiful with your mouth full.” He smiles, tilting his head so he’s looking down at you even more. “You might look better like this than when I’m choking you on my cock, gorgeous.”
You gasp around his digits- or, at least, you try to, because they’re so heavy upon your tongue you can barely get a sound out. “My sweet, pretty girl,” he coos condescendingly, his other hand brushing back your hair so it doesn’t stick to the saliva steadily pooling at your lips. “Painting my nails, then opening your mouth for me to shove them inside later. You really are perfect, aren’t you?”
“Aren’t you?” He repeats sternly, his other hand lightly pinching your nipple through your shirt. Oh, that wasn’t a rhetorical question?
“Yes!” You garble out around his skin. His thumb on the hand that’s inside your mouth slowly strokes your face from the outside as his fingers push up against the inside of your cheek, digits meeting digits through the thin layer of skin and muscle. “Yes, you are.” Geto continues, preaching to his singular audience member.
“And you do know I’ll be using these to fuck your pussy next, don’t you?” Geto smirks, curling the fingers on his free hand crudely in front of your face in a ‘come here’ motion. It’s obvious what he’s insinuating, the knowledge of it heats bright on your face. You nod shakily, eyes foggy as you gently rub your tongue along his fingers.
“Mhmm, that’s right.” His free fingers keep beckoning, before resting lightly on your inner thigh. You jolt, along with your mouth, and he notices. “Ah-ah, no teeth unless I ask.”
Your eyes turn apologetic and he sighs. “You’re so good to me, really. I can’t wait to split you open on my fingers. But don’t worry, sweetheart,” he purrs, “I’ll be so gentle. So, so gentle to you. I wouldn’t want to chip the polish now, would I?”
You get the feeling that he’s lying.
“So gentle,” he repeats again. “I’d start with one, maybe. Work you open slowly until you’re sobbing and begging for me to add another, then I’d slowlyyyy break you. Wouldn’t you like that, my sweet girl?”
You’re lightheaded.
You moan whorishly around his fingers, spit dribbling freely now. “Oh, you wouldddd.” He’s speaking for the both of you know, humiliating you a little while his fingers fuck into your mouth. Which is a crude term to use, but it’s what he’s doing- fucking them into you, like he would if he was using his cock.
He keeps telling you what he’d do, only turning you on more. You wouldn’t be surprised if you were sitting in a puddle of slick by now. “I know you would. You’d beg for my cock, right? Maybe cry those pretty tears I simply adore on you so much, your eyes all wet and beautiful?”
“Aw,” he whispers, drawing himself closer to your face until his nose is brushing yours. “They already are. So cute.”
There is tears in your eyes, ones of need. But there’s also an odd sense of comfort you’re getting from this whole lewd ordeal, like having his fingers in your mouth grounds you while he mutters the filthiest things into your prickling ears. “You look cockdrunk already,” he breathes, “and I haven’t even touched you.”
He takes his dry hand and presses it to your cheek. You lean into it naturally and suck softly on his fingers; you really do look cockdrunk, he thinks again. It’s something in the way your mouth is slightly open, just occupying itself naturally around his fingers as you work yourself into a cosy little stupor.
It’s actually quite romantic, really. If you’re as much of a pervert as Geto, that is. The real word to use is probably ‘erotic’. The soft lamplight, the even softer touches, the way he’s cradling your hair and head as you go pliant and gentle with his fingers in your mouth. “You look so gorgeous,” he whispers, “you’ll look even better sucking my fingers while I slowlyyy-“ he drags that word out for dramatic effect, quiet syllables turning filthy, “-fuck you on my cock, hm?”
You keen suddenly at his language and your hips jut forward embarrassingly. Geto grins and pulls back, tearing his fingers from your lips. “What?” You gasp brokenly, eyes damp and lips soaked with spit. “I th-thought-“
Geto ignores you completely and holds his fingers up to the lamplight flowing softly from the corner. The orangey glow illuminates the polish on his fingernails and he smiles. “Aww, they really do look extra shimmery like this. Sweetheart, look.”
When you can’t, too shocked and aroused to think, he gently takes his dry hand and gently manhandles your chin towards his fingers. And, lo and behold, they actually are extra shimmery. They’re covered in a thin, blanketed layer of your spit, shiny and warm, but you do have to admit the polish does what it promises on the glass bottle.
masterlist
a/n: yummy!! I wrote this in like 15 mins after posting this little brainwave
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Older!gojo who wants to relate to his younger girlfriend so he goes to yuuji to ask about the lingo ppl use nowadays.
Yuuji introduces him to tung tung tung sahur and the next time Gojo and u fuck he calls himself hung hung hung sahur and u instantly shrivel up and die on the spot
can authors give jjk up now can we write something new for once no we don’t gaf about plug choso or heian era sukuna or nerd/fratboy gojo anymore can we move it along
𓏲﹕ formula 1 racer!satoru gojo ‘s interviewer and journalist just so happens to be his ex whom he ended things with on a not so good note ! ★ genre / themes :: f1 racer au :: banter :: from ex to ? :: rekindled emotions :: forced proximity :: smut | 18+ :: fluff :: public drama :: tension :: hatred . featuring :: f1 racer!satoru x journalist fem!reader .
literally how. im going to shoot myself. mind you i was one image away from kenjaku but i just had to download bumto. killing myself rn. - 🧠
@s4g3-the-v0id (who is this, why are you the first result mystery person), @first-universal-common-ancestor @voreoomf @permalucy @radicallymax @towaloa @h3ll0k1tt1-m30ww + open tags
trying to find ppl to tag made me realize im not rlly friends with anyone in this community besides like 2 people. damn. - 🧠
Was on wplace so the screenshot had many characters but I've zoomed in to the first I recognised - shout-out to Till but I don't think the marriage would work out :P
Open tags because I'm a coward and tagging people is scary
‧₊ ˚⊹ fratjo calls you while nerdjo is eating your pussy…? 18+
note nerdjo = satoru, fratjo = satoshi (name borrowed from @/sweethearticism, but it’s not the same character! this fratjo is less of a frat boy cuz idrk about frats like that i'm british he's moreso just an outgoing party guy :3 also not proofread sorry guyz
cw oral f receiving, nerdjo is a cocky pos and fratjo begs u to take him back
your sheets rustle underneath you as you squirm underneath satoru’s touch. it’s quiet apart from his low, steady breathing and your rough panting. it’s always a little surreal seeing him like this; his thick, black-rimmed glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose as he takes his time with you. to the rest of the people on your course, satoru gojo is the ridiculously intelligent guy who sits in the front rows of the lecture hall and would rather spend his friday nights knee-deep in theoretical physics than going clubbing. but, behind closed doors, he eats your pussy like he solves problems—meticulously and with utmost care.
he shifts between your bare legs, placing open-mouthed kisses to your inner thighs, making your shiver.
“comfortable?” he murmurs, his voice low.
before you can even begin to answer, he leans down and licks a warm, wet strip up your entire puffy cunt. his tongue works over you slowly, heavy and drenched in your wetness. he laps at your clit with broad strokes before swirling his tongue around your sensitive entrance, drawing out needy whines from your lips.
suddenly, your phone bursts to life on the nightstand, its harsh vibrations buzzing against the wood, bright light illuminating the dim room. your entire body stiffens, hands flying to satoru’s snowy locks to pull him off you as he lets out a low, dissatisfied groan, reluctantly lifting his head. his normally bright blue eyes are now darkened with desire, lips slick and gleaming with your sticky arousal.
you grab your phone from the side, but when you look at the screen, you freeze.
satoshi.
satoru’s identical twin and your ex-situationship. satoshi gojo was six foot something of pure sex appeal and cheesy pickup lines. every girl and guy on campus has had some kind of flirty encounter with him. he crawls pubs and hops clubs with that infuriatingly pretty smile of his. for some reason, he had taken it upon himself to try to win your affections, but in the end, he just treated you like a temporary distraction. the first few times you met up, he had taken you out on cheap dates (they were kinda cute, though), then it eventually turned into him basically using you for quick sex. you couldn't complain at the time (he was a good fuck, after all), but after a while you grew tired of the lack of care. the guy never even ate you out, for fuck’s sake.
you show the screen to satoru as he leans up slightly, resting his cheek on your thigh, reading the name on your phone. a possessive smirk spreads across his face. he knows exactly what his brother did to you, how he treated you. after all, satoru was the one who you ran to in tears when you broke it off with his twin. the two of you had been friends since first year after having met at a quantum mechanics drop-in session. having sex with satoru just seemed to come naturally after you basically swore to never involve yourself with his brother again.
“answer it,” satoru practically purrs, his raspy voice sending a shiver down your spine.
“satoru, no—”
“asnwer it,” he commands, eyes flashing with a cold, competitive glint. “put it on speaker.”
you barely have time to process his movements before he's reaching up, tapping the green icon himself. he hits speaker and sets the phone flat on your clothed chest.
“hey…” satoshi’s voice comes through the speaker. it’s not in his usual, arrogant manner, but rather… hesitant. he also sounds completely sober, something so out-of-the-blue that it almost makes your head spin with confusion. “look… i know you probably don't want to talk to me, but i’ve been sitting in my car for an hour thinking about how i left things between us”
you roll your eyes to nobody in particular and open your mouth to respond, but before you can utter a single word, satoru sinks his head down back between your legs. he doesn't ease back into it, immediately plunging his tongue deep inside your soaking walls, dragging it back upwards and out, then taking your clit directly between his lips and sucking gently.
a sharp gasp gets caught in your throat and you try to swallow it down as best as you can. your back arches off the mattress, knuckles turning white as you dig your fingers into the bedsheets.
“i really fucked up,” satoshi continues over the phone, blissfully ignorant to the way his twin brother is currently burying his face into your soaking wet cunt. “i treated you badly. i miss the sex, yeah, but…” you can hear him take a deep, almost shaky breath. “i miss you. i want to make it up to you. let me take you out sometime. please?”
you want to respond, you really do. maybe tell him something about how he lost his chance a while ago. but it’s hard to do that whilst satoru’s tongue is relentless against you, flattening against your throbbing clit as two long fingers reach up to spread your lips wider, opening you up completely to his mouth. the wet, rhythmic squelching sounds of him eating your pussy fill the entire room. you clamp a hand over your mouth as tears of overwhelming pleasure prick the corners of your eyes.
satoru glances up at you through his white lashes, his eyes full of sadistic triumph as he deliberately flicks his tongue in fast, punishing circles right against your sensitive bud. you can't help the grunt that escapes you.
“are you there?” satoshi asks. you havent spoken a word to him this entire time. “what’s that sound? you good?”
swallowing hard, your whole body trembles as you force your hand away from your mouth.
“i’m—” your breath hitches. a loud, breath moan almost spills out as satoru gives your clit a hard suck. you dig your nails into your palm to ground yourself. “i’m—ahh—doing… yoga.” the words are bitter on your tongue, but your mind is foggy with the feeling of satoru going down on you, so you really could not care less about the shitty lie.
“yoga?” he echoes on the phone, sounding bewildered. “at midnight?”
“yeah,” you choke out, hips twitching involuntarily as satoru slides two fingers inside your dripping heat, curling them into you in time with his tongue on your clit. you’re writhing underneath him, completely out of your mind as he eats like a man starved. “i’m doing some—ngh—intense stretching. i’m really— fuck— sore.”
“oh. right,” satoshi sighs. “look, just… just think about what i said. give me another chance to make it right.”
satoru’s eyes darken at his brother’s words. pulling his fingers out with a lewd shlick, he replaces them with a greedy pump of his tongue that hits your walls so perfectly that you buck up into his mouth, a stifled sob escaping your lips.
“i have to go, satoshi,” you rasp out, barely able to form coherent sentences as his twin’s mouth works faster against you, driving you straight towards release at a dangerously fast rate. “i’m right in the middle of a hard pose.”
“wait— don’t go, please!” his voice crackles through the speaker, frantic and breathless. “i’m really, really sorry. just give me five minutes to explain. let me make it up to you, please—”
his apologies fade to static in your ears because satoru has clearly reached his breaking point. hearing his brother beg for your forgiveness sent him over the edge. the pads of his fingers grip your plush thighs, dragging you infinitely closer to his mouth as he goes all in, delving into your core with punishing speed. he’s stopped playing around, stopped teasing you. his tongue works you undone, licking straight up your honeyed folds as two long fingers graze the rough spot inside your velvety walls that make you flutter around him.
“oh god— s-satoru—” you gasp, but it’s already too late.
the bliss hits you like a steam train as you snap, body curling up off the bed as your core clamps and gushes around his fingers, limbs convulsing in pleasure. as much as you try, you can’t stop it or hold yourself back; the orgasm tears through your body with full force. an unrestrained, high-pitched moan rips straight from the back of your throat, echoing loudly through your small bedroom as your thighs tremble violently around satoru’s head. and he doesn't stop, either. he drinks every single drop of your release, completely unfazed at the fact that his brother was on the other end of your phone.
silence falls over the entire room for three agonisingly long seconds.
“oh my god,” satoshi whispers, voice dripping with utter disbelief. “did you… did you just fucking cum?”
your eyes fly open, panic instantly replacing the sweet afterglow. scrambling to sit up, you grab your phone from your chest with shaky hands.
“what? no!” you squeak out, voice way too high, desperately trying to catch your breath whilst satoru sits back on his heels, smirking as he wipes his wet chin with the back of his hand. “no! why would you— why would you even think that?! i told you, i’m just doing a hard pose!”
“are you fucking kidding me?” satoshi barks out. a rancorous laugh erupts from his chest. “we had sex enough times for me to know exactly what you sound like when you have an orgasm. you just came!”
“fuck…” you mutter under your breath, dragging a hand down the side of your face.
“who are you with?” his voice turned sharp, spiteful.
frozen, you can’t answer. you’re just sitting there in your bed, warm and tingly and half naked, completely and utterly speechless. the silence stretches out for a beat too long, suffocating and heavy.
“who the fuck are you with?!” satoshi is almost yelling now, his composure completely shattering.
but you still don't answer. how can you? how can you tell him that you've been fucking his very own twin brother for the past two weeks after he just begged you to take him back?
slowly, satoru leans forward, his crystalline eyes locking onto yours. he reaches out his hands, silently demanding the phone. panic surging through your veins, you frantically shake your head at him as you try to pull the phone back. but he just chuckles, completely ignoring your silent pleas.
he plucks the phone out of your trembling hands with ease. pushing his glasses back up his nose, he brings the phone up to himself and speaks into the mic with a cool, mocking tone.
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midnight’s boring until your phone starts buzzing against the nightstand. the screen lights up with his name — suguru — and for a second you just stare, thumb hovering, heart doing that stupid little flip it always does when it’s him—whether it’s a text, or a post—it’s always the same.
you swipe to answer.
his face fills the screen almost immediately. dim lighting, that familiar wolfcut messy like he’s been running a hand through it, snake bites catching the light glow of his phone. he’s shirtless, tattoos crawling over his chest and shoulders and neck, nipple piercings catching the light every time he shifts and the phone angles low enoughx his eyes soften the second they land on you.
“hey,” he says, voice low and a little rough, like he’s been awake for a while. “didn’t wake you, did i?”
you shake your head, sitting up against the headboard. “no. couldn’t sleep.”
“mm.” his mouth curves, soft. “me neither.” a pause. he tilts his head, studying you. “how was your day?”
you tell him. nothing special — work, errands, the usual. he listens like he always does, asking little questions that make it feel like he actually cares—and maybe he does. then you ask him the same, and he shrugs one shoulder, talking about the gym and some late work and how he’s been restless for a few hours now.
the conversation drifts easy for a while. comfortable. the kind that only happens when you’ve already shared too many late-night texts and filthy exchanges.
then his expression shifts. something needier settles behind his eyes.
“i’ve been thinking about you,” he says suddenly, voice quieter. “a lot. more than i should, probably.” he lets out a soft breath, glancing away for a second before meeting your gaze through the screen again. “kept wanting to call earlier. kept telling myself to wait. but…” his tongue presses briefly against his cheek, then flicks out to tug at his lip piercing. “i’ve been hard for a while now. and you’re the only one who can help me with that lately.
the words were honest. no teasing edge yet — just that calm and lustfully intense way he has of saying exactly what he means.
you swallow. “yeah?”
“yeah,” he chuckles roughly, but it’s soft somehow. “you gonna help me, pretty girl?”
your pulse kicks up. you nod, and something hungry flickers across his face.
“good,” he murmurs. “show me you.” he shifts, angling the phone so you can see more of him — the way his abs tighten when he breathes, the dark trail of tattoos disappearing under the waistband of his sweats. “take your shirt off for me. slow.”
you do. his gaze tracks every movement, heavy and focused.
“fuck,” he breathes when your bra comes off next. “look at you. still the prettiest thing i’ve ever seen on this screen.” his free hand drifts down, palming himself over the fabric. “been thinking about those tits all day. the way they look when you play with them for me.”
he pushes his sweats down without ceremony. his cock springs free — thick, flushed, the metal of his tip piercing glinting under the low light. he wraps a tattooed hand around it and gives a slow stroke, eyes never leaving yours on the screen.
“touch yourself,” he orders softly. “fingers on your clit first. i wanna watch you get wet for me.”
you flip the camera and slide your hand between your legs. the second your fingers press against your clit he groans, low and deep.
“there it is,” he mutters. “spread your legs wider. let me see that pretty pussy.” when you do, his grip tightens around his cock. “fuck… look at how wet you already are. all for me, huh?”
he strokes himself in time with your fingers, slow and deliberate. the wet sound of his hand moving over his cock fills the previous quiet between you.
“two fingers,” he says. “push them in. nice and deep. i wanna hear how wet you sound.”
you obey, sinking your fingers into yourself with a soft moan. his eyes flutter half-shut for a second.
“god, that sound…” he strokes harder, thumb brushing over his piercing, spreading precum all over his tip. “tell me how it feels. tell me what you’re thinking about.”
“you,” you manage, voice already shaky. “your cock. the way it’d stretch me. i want to fuck you so bad.”
“yeah?” his smile is dark, pleased. “you’d take it so well, wouldn’t you? let me bury every inch in that tight little cunt until you can’t think straight.” he pumps his fist faster, hips shifting. “i’d fuck you slow at first. make you feel it. every inch. then i’d make you forget your own name.”
your fingers curl, searching for that spot that makes your thighs tremble. he notices immediately.
“found it?” he asks through a light chuckle, voice rougher now. “rub it, baby. don’t stop. i wanna watch you cum for me.”
the wet sounds of your fingers and his hand fill the call. his breathing gets heavier, chest rising and falling faster. sweat starts to gleam along his collarbones, catching on his piercings.
“you look so fucking good like this,” he groans. “legs spread, fingers buried in your pussy. wish i could taste you right now. wish i could shove my tongue inside you and feel you clench around it.”
your hips rock against your hand. the pressure builds fast, heat coiling tight in your stomach at the hand of his words alone.
“suguru—”
“that’s it,” he encourages, voice dropping lower and trailing into a soft groan. “say my name while you fuck yourself. let me hear it.”
you do. again and again, moaning it as your fingers work faster. his strokes turn almost punishing, the wet shlick of his hand loud and filthy.
“gonna cum for me?” he asks, eyes locked on where your fingers disappear into yourself. “gonna make a mess of those pretty fingers while i stroke this cock thinking about burying it inside you?”
“yes—fuck, yes—”
“then do it,” he orders, soft but firm. “cum for me. let me see it.”
the orgasm hits hard. your back arches, a broken moan spilling out as you clench around your fingers, thighs shaking. he watches every second of it, stroking himself through it, lips parted, eyes laced with lust. lust directed at you and you alone. no one else makes him ache the way you do.
the second your high starts to ease he groans your name, hand flying over his cock. “fuck—look at you. so fucking pretty. so perfect.” a few more rough strokes and he’s cumming hard, thick ropes spilling over his tattooed fist and abs, a low, guttural sound tearing from his throat. his piercing glints through the mess as he milks every last drop.
for a moment the only sound is both of you trying to catch your breath.
he lets out a rough chuckle, followed by a pleased sigh as he slumps back on the bed. “shit, that felt good.” he looks at the camera again, chest still heaving, a lazy, satisfied smile tugging at his mouth. “stay,” he murmurs. “don’t hang up yet.” his voice is softer now. “i still wanna look at you for a while.”
you settle back against the pillows, phone held in your hand just over your head, he just watches you with a look that’s almost fond — like the distance doesn’t matter as much when he can still see your face. or maybe you’re just sleep deprived and seeing things.
“you’re something else,” he says eventually, almost to himself. “you know that?”
the key barely turns in the lock before exhaustion pulls at your limbs. it’s the kind of tiredness that sinks into bone marrow, born from too many forced smiles, too many tasks piled on your shoulders, and the relentless pressure of a day that asked more from you than it ever gave back.
the moment the door clicks shut behind you, you let out a breath that trembles on its way out.
you do not anticipate either of them being home at this hour. you certainly do not expect the apartment to be illuminated by the warm glow of lamplight, rather than the usual fluorescent overhead lighting that the office always keeps on.
and you definitely do not expect both satoru and suguru to raise their heads the moment you enter the living room, as if they had been awaiting your arrival, listening for the sound of you.
suguru rises from the couch first. he studies you with eyes that take in everything at once. the slump of your shoulders, the way you’re still holding your work bag in a white-knuckled grip, the way your expression tries for neutral and doesn’t quite make it. his brows soften immediately.
“rough day?” he asks quietly.
a sensation of a lump forms in your throat. you can only manage a small nod, as speaking would feel too much like acknowledging how close you are to your breaking point.
satoru doesn’t tease you or make a joke to cover the tension he can sense thrumming through you. instead, he stands as well, crossing the room in slow, measured steps. when he reaches you, he cups your cheeks with both hands—thumbs brushing just beneath your eyes as he tilts your face up.
his voice is gentler than the echoes of those in your head. “hey. you’re home now, yeah? you're—"
"—safe," suguru kindly interjects, taking your bag from your shoulder without you asking, setting it down quietly on the table. then his hands find your coat, easing it off with practiced patience. "and you always will be when we're around."
the words shouldn’t be enough to make your vision sting, but they do. you swallow hard.
"let us take care of you tonight,” satoru murmurs while letting his lips brush your forehead.
suguru comes to stand behind you, the heat of him a soothing balm for your tense back. “come sit for a moment,” he murmurs, guiding you gently toward the couch. “you’ve been holding yourself together all day. let us do it for a while, hm?”
you sink into the cushions, but they don’t give you time to disappear into yourself. satoru sits beside you, close enough that his knee brushes one of yours, while suguru kneels in front of you, his hands resting softly on your calves as though asking permission to touch.
“talk to us, sweetness,” suguru says, voice deep enough to ground you. “what happened?”
and something within you finally unravels. your tears spring free and causes your mascara to run in dark rivulets down your cheeks, splattering onto the collar of your shirt.
you tell them everything in slow, halting pieces—the deadlines, the unreasonable and ridiculous demands from your boss, the pressure that built until you felt like you were breathing underwater. satoru listens without fidgeting, without trying to fix things, his hand covering yours in a loose hold. suguru nods along, his dark eyes sharp with concern but gentle where it matters.
when you finally fall silent, satoru leans in and presses a kiss to your temple, lingering long enough for warmth to seep into your skin. “i'm sorry, baby. that's a lot for anyone to deal with.”
a faint, watery chuckle escapes your lips as you gently blot the wetness from your face with a tissue that has inexplicably appeared in your hand (most likely suguru’s doing). "tell me about it."
on your other side, suguru laces his fingers through your own and brings your hand to his mouth, deliberately kissing your knuckles with the utmost care. "i think i have an idea," he murmurs, lips trailing up along the length of your arm, "of what would make you feel better."
your brows furrow together in confusion. what on earth could he possibly be suggesting?
𓂃
not even fifteen minutes later, the entire living room had transformed into a candlelit sanctuary. satoru had practically ransacked the shelf at your local grocery store in order to obtain your favorite scent.
your favorite snacks were all over the coffee table, next to an open bottle of wine that suguru had already poured into three glasses. the couch was practically buried under tons of fluffy blankets and soft pillows, and you guys were trying not to get lost in them.
"i can't believe she'd do that!" satoru scoffs with a mouthful of popcorn, gesturing wildly to the television with the hand of the arm draped over your shoulders. "how could any sane woman pass up on the opportunity to shack up with marcus?!"
oh, and they'd decided to put on that ridiculous reality bachelorette styled television show you loved, in satoru's humble opinion.
you snorted in amusement, gaze fixated on the screen as your head rested upon suguru's shoulder. "'toru, you did not just refer to sex as 'shacking up'. you aren't fifty."
"he might as well be," suguru smoothly adds. "how tragic, he's almost thirty and already has a full head of white hair."
a dramatic gasp leaves satoru's mouth the same time a fit of laughter leaves your's and suguru's. in his usual fashion, he begins to lean backwards and practically flops on top of you, the back of his hand covering his forehead. "my adoring girlfriend and wonderous boyfriend are shaming me! how will i ever recover?"
while satoru groans and complains, suguru leans in by your ear and whispers, "are you feeling any better, pretty girl?"
you tilt your head up and meet his concerned gaze with a loving smile. "so much better," you answer softly. "this is exactly what i needed, and thank you two for coming you with this."
you jolt upon feeling satoru peck your lips, not having felt him move off of you. "that's what we're here for, baby," he chuckles. "we love you a lot, y'know. it'd kinda be in bad taste if we didn't ease your stress at least a little."
"it doesn't help that you are one of her stressors, satoru."
"oh like you're one to talk—"
and as the two of them bicker, you smile to yourself and bask in the loving atmosphere. there isn't anything in the world that you'd ever trade for being here right now.
— a/n :: this turned out to be much longer than the og, oops
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