#800 words

blindfolded!

pairing: satoru gojo x fem!reader

he'd been waiting all week for this.

to explain, you and satoru were quite adventurous with anything to do with sex. he would buy all these things or propose an idea on how to keep things interesting, and you would agree. every time. all because you knew it would be better than the last time.

this cycle had been going on for a few months now, and no problems have occurred. you guys are perfect.

satoru had been holding back this… idea for long, even though he's wanted it from the start.

he wanted to see your pretty eyes obstructed, unable to know his next move he knows that your senses would be heightened to the max, pussy dripping like never before at his teasing touches.

you're now in your shared bed, grinding down on his muscular thigh.

"yeah, pretty girl, you want more?" his eyebrows raise, voice laced with mock sympathy.

"you'll have to earn it."

you whimper, body shaking at every attempt for more pleasure. he grabs your face, kissing your gloss straight off.

"mmngh, fuck, toru!" you moan into his kisses, grabbing onto his shoulder.

he places his free hand on your own, moving his thigh up and down— matching your pace.

"fuck. i can feel you getting soaked already. so sexy."

he tucks hair behind your ear as he pulls you in for another kiss, tongue dancing with yours in a ruthless, passionate makeout.

he slides a hand up your bra, cold and long fingers palming the soft flesh, nipples turning hard almost immediately.

"oh, you've definitely earned it now. look at you." he exclaims, sliding his hand down to grip your ass, pulling you onto him.

satoru quickly disposes of your bottoms, taking a moment to trace the lace of your panties. his hand goes further down, just feeling the wetness.

he flashes you a shit eating grin, pulling down your panties by the waistband. satoru puts the panties up to his nose, inhaling deeply.

"shit. you smell amazing, sweetheart." he moves them from his nose, wrapping the beautiful lace around his wrist.

your soaking cunt clenches around nothing, the musky scent of wetness filling satoru's senses.

he sucks his teeth. "just one thing." satoru unties the blindfold from his head, icey blue eyes staring into yours.

"you're blindfolded." he leans in, kissing and biting your bottom lip before tying the blindfold around your eyes. you whimper in response, his hand going to your nipple— kneading the ball of warm flesh.

he feels his dick go hard in his pants, and he leads your hands towards it. "you feel that, pretty girl? it's all for you."

you locate the zipper on his pants, pulling it all the way down. he slides his pants straight off, pre dripping through thin boxers.

he strokes your hair as your hand slips under his boxers, stroking his dick softly with wet pumps.

you pull his boxers off, joining his pants on the floor. his tip is practically leaking mass amounts of pre at this point.

he grabs the back of your head, leading your mouth down to his dick. he makes sure your lips pick up some of the pre, substituting for that lipgloss he kissed off a few minutes ago.

you wrap your lips around his cock, swirling your tongue around his tip, occasionally touching his slit.

he hisses in response, gripping onto your hair tighter.

your spit mixed with pre forms a ring around his cock as you take him in deeper, fondling his balls every time you go to the bottom.

he lets out a choked groan, playing with the edge of your blindfold as you move. you are getting quite used to the feeling of his huge cock blindfolded.

your eyes water up under the blindfold as you deepthroat him— the jet black piece of fabic mopping up every tear, not every gag, though.

one of his hands go down to your neck, feeling the bulge of his dick imprinted into your throat.

"how are you— fuck! taking that, baby? isn't it too— shiittt much for you?" he cries out breathily, holding his grip on your hair for dear life.

you shake your head, going back up to spit on his dick, deepthroating him many times again. he wishes he could see your eyes staring up at him.

"fuuuck! i'm gonna—" he holds your head down, riding out through his orgasm.

ropes of cum run down your throat and you of course swallow it all like the good slut you are.

sweat runs down satoru's face and he takes off the blindfold.

"fuck, you did better than i could've ever imagined." he takes a shaky breath and runs a hand through his ivory hair.

you move your hand towards his face, stroking his plump lips.

"you did great too." you say, pressing a small kiss to his lower lip.

© 𝐤𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐞, 2026. do not repost as your own, translate or feed any of my works into ai.

hi

The gravel crunched under your boots, every step a little heavier than the last as the air thinned and the wind picked up sharp enough to bite through your sleeves. You tugged at the hem of your shirt like it’d help, but it didn’t, and Daryl’s eyes cut sideways before you could even pretend you were fine. He didn’t slow down, just muttered low under his breath, the words half carried by the wind.

“Why ain’t ya bring a jacket.”

It wasn’t really a question, but the way he said it still made your chest tighten, like it always did when he pointed out something you already knew. You sighed, looking up at the gray sky, the clouds stretching out heavy and full, almost taunting.

“Didn’t think it’d be this cold,” you said, voice a little too small for the open air.

Daryl gave a snort that might’ve been a laugh, or maybe just disbelief, and kept walking a few more steps before stopping completely. He stood there with that look, the one where he squints a little, like he’s sizing up a problem he already knows the answer to. His hand went to the collar of his vest, fingers tugging like he was thinking about saying something else, but he didn’t.

You kicked at a rock and tried not to shiver, but the goosebumps crawling up your arms gave you away.

“I’m fine,” you added, because that’s what you always said, even when it wasn’t true.

“Yeah,” he said slow, dragging the word out, “sure ya are.”

You caught the flicker of his smirk before he turned away, shrugging out of his coat like it was no big deal. The fabric made a soft sound when it came off his shoulders, the smell of leather and pine and something warm already carried in the air between you.

“Daryl,” you started, but he was already holding it out, arm steady, eyes steady too, that kind of look that didn’t take no for an answer.

“Go on,” he said, simple, quiet.

You hesitated, mostly because that coat wasn’t just a coat. It was his. Smelled like him, fit him like it was made for him, and the thought of wearing it felt almost too personal. But the wind picked up again, and he gave a small nod toward it, the motion saying more than words.

You took it.

It was heavier than you expected, rough on the outside but lined soft from years of wear. It swallowed you whole, the sleeves hanging past your hands, the shoulders wide enough that you could pull them close and pretend the warmth had always been yours. You slipped your arms through slow, almost careful, like it might disappear if you moved too quick.

Daryl watched, that twitch of his mouth barely there, like he was hiding a grin he didn’t want you to see.

“Better,” he said, and started walking again, slow this time, matching your pace.

You followed, trying not to smile, though you knew he noticed anyway. The woods around you were quieter now, just the sound of boots and the soft whisper of fabric when you moved. The chill that had been biting at your skin a few minutes ago had faded into something else, something warmer that had nothing to do with the jacket.

“You don’t gotta-” you started, but stopped when you caught the glance he threw over his shoulder.

“Next time,” he said, cutting you off, his tone calm but certain, “I’ll make sure ya got what ya need before ya leave the damn house.”

You huffed, partly at the words, partly because your heart was suddenly beating too fast for how slow the walk had gotten.

“Didn’t know I needed a babysitter,” you said, teasing, though it came out softer than you meant it to.

Daryl’s mouth twitched again, that half-smile that wasn’t really a smile, but it was enough.

“Didn’t say that,” he muttered, eyes back on the trail. “Just ain’t gonna have ya freezin’ when I can do somethin’ ‘bout it."

You didn’t answer right away. The silence between you wasn’t awkward, just easy. The kind that filled itself without needing words.

After a while, you glanced up at him again, the way his shoulders moved, how his breath fogged in the cold, steady and even. You thought about saying thank you, but he already knew.

He always did.

Tai Will Be The Next Antler Queen

[Disclaimer: I'm using the language of a D&D moral alignment chart to help me explain this. Obviously, good and evil are extremely black and white terms when talking about teenagers, but it helps my autistic ass to make sense of my theory in a narrative sense. I love all the girls; this is just the pattern I’ve noticed.]

Witches are the most powerful creatures a doll could conceive of. They hold complete mastery over magic, whatever that may be, to build life itself anew. A mere doll could never imagine the depths of power you hold, let alone comprehend it. Just as you designed them.

2025 Day one: parasite/symbiote/alien

Slightly different take than most would have, I imagine, but when I read the Wikipedia description of a parasite, the post of @servantofdiscord of a few months back came to mind. This is the closest to horror I have ever written.

Parasitism is a close relationship between species, where one organism, the parasite, lives (at least some of the time) on or inside another organism, the host, causing it some harm,[1] and is adapted structurally to this way of life – Wikipedia, 30 October, 2025

___

You might have heard the warnings: about hypnosis, its dangers and its beauty. About limits, and being mindful. About what commands mean and about how easily commands can go wrong.

Gather around, young ones. For here is the tale about the girl. A girl, and how suggestions can take root in the fertile mind of a suggestible willing young woman. Be prepared, and listen closely...

The first time they spoke, she knew she met a skilled hypnotist. Exactly the type she hoped she would meet sometimes. She didn’t want to hope for too much, but they clicked, and things felt great!

Summary: Short one-shots, focused on the different ways in which the various Brugh characters might comfort a struggling reader.

Fandoms: What We Do in the Shadows (2014), 800 Words, Mega Time Squad, Educators, How To Meet Girls From a Distance, TLAT, The Office Australia, The Life & Times of Te Tutu

Rating: M

Relationships: Deacon Brücke/Reader, Monty McNamara/Reader, Shelton/Reader, Jarred Needham/Reader, Carl Stewart/Reader, Rapu/Reader, Lloyd Kneath/Reader, Lord Simian Gibbon Herrick/Reader

Chapters: 8/8

POV

Joel has to drive somewhere, and Carter is busy. It’s just you and Joel, and you’re taking the smaller van. As Joel gets in the driver’s seat, for the first time he tells you to buckle up. It feels silly, given everything that’s happened in this van while it was moving, but you do it anyway. The road is mostly quiet, and you never see another car. It feels weird having a seat all to yourself, but seeing Joel drive really turns you on. His massive triceps casually flex with every turn. His thick thighs shake a little on the bumpy road. Joel looks over at you and does a double take, allowing himself the hint of a smile. 

“What?” you ask. 

Malfoy did this thing where he only used a finger and a thumb for crisps. He’d wade through mud without a second thought to retrieve Scorp’s ball from the hissing nettles, he put his arm up to the elbow in cold spaghetti sauce on a dare, he rolled down not one but three different hills with Teddy on their hikes, but when it came to crisps, he was his perfect lordly self. A finger and a thumb going in neat motions, barely even crinkling the bag. A dignified amount of crisps pinched tightly, brought slowly into his mouth. So careful and clean and entirely unintentional. He didn’t even know he was doing it.

Harry did.

Harry noticed everything about him. Hard not to when Malfoy was like this, weird and loud and awkward, pathetic and incredible and everywhere. When Teddy adopted him and Scorp (officially, with a letter he’d hand-written, signed with a drawing of, randomly, a horse); when they moved in, and Malfoy’s pyjamas became a recurring vision, llamas and tiny buttons following even in his dreams; when he found the stray cat, named her Nibbles for no earthly reason; when he was a menace, and Harry adored it. Him. Adored—the whole thing, how their lives suddenly became this, tight and uncomfortable and too warm and perfect.

Teddy was no help. He practically had love-hearts for eyes whenever Malfoy walked in the room. All these ‘Draco, look!’ and ‘Draco, can you—’ and ‘Draco, Draco, come sit next to me!’ that drove Harry spare. And Scorp was such a tiny little thing in all his Molly-made-jumpers, babbling with a look of utter importance and following Teddy around, and cackling with joy whenever he was in Malfoy’s arms. And the cat, fucking, cat, always getting kisses and—

No, Harry wasn’t jealous, that wasn’t quite it. He was… overwhelmed with how gentle it all was. Never really imagined life could be like this, didn’t think he’d want it. Discovered he did with such terrifying intensity, that he yearned for something that wasn’t quite nameable, that he somehow almost had. It kept him up at nights and filled his days with this weird, feverish joy. It was soft and itchy and all his. Almost his. So fucking close to being his.

And Malfoy was right there, sitting across from Harry with his ankle on one knee and the bag of fucking crisps and the way he was eating them, almost—decadently, and utterly, helplessly serious. On the rug, Harry realised he probably loved him.

Stretched, leaned slightly to his side until he was touching Malfoy’s knee. “Hey,” he said, swallowed.

“Hi.” Malfoy offered him the bag. “Want some?”

“You eat crisps funny,” Harry said for an answer. “All cleanly and stuff. It’s funny.”

“Oh. Well. Always happy to amuse you.”

He was so ridiculous, with the little stickers he let Ted and Scorp stick on his socks, on the sliver of his leg that was visible. It would hurt like hell to rip these out, all the fine blond hair caught underneath. Harry couldn’t breathe for a moment, it struck him so hard.

It was the middle of August and a really cold day. All the lights in the living room made it look like… something Harry wanted so badly. Instead of trying to make it into words, he leaned his head against Malfoy. Allowed the fingers threading through his hair. The movement so, so gentle.

“I’m picking Ted early from school tomorrow,” Malfoy announced some time later, in this awful voice he used for Scorp, or when Teddy had a nightmare. “He hates the dentist, so I promised to take him on a walk after. Maybe the hill where we went last month, the one with the waterfall.”

Harry hummed something delighted and heartbroken. Buried his face in Malfoy’s thigh, surrendered to the feeling of his hands, of his warmth.

“Harry… I meant, do you want to come with us? Sorry. That’s not—wasn’t quite clear.”

Buried his face tighter.

“Or—maybe we can go another day? Just us. You and me, I mean. There’s this place I think you would like. If you absolutely insisted, we could take Nibbles along on her lead.”

Brought his head up, pouted at Malfoy’s pretty face. “No, that’s…” stopped when he noticed the smile. When he realised that this thing that he wanted was already his. Pressed a tiny kiss to Malfoy’s shin, to a sticker of a star on his hairy leg. “You are,” Harry said, and meant it from the bottom of his heart. Breathed, breathed. Sat there and grinned to himself.

The bag of crisps crinkled. The afternoon went on, lit and weirdly warm. It was the life Harry didn’t know he wanted, that he ached for, that he had.