[sumsebien]

Links // sumsebien

Masterlists

arcane

bridgerton

grishaverse

Recent + upcoming fics

i have so many exciting things written and i really wanted to give you a sneak peek of all of them. but that would probably be too many sneak peeks, all the time. so i give you this list of all the works i've finished and will finish ;)

Recent

make it feel like you hate me (vi x fem!reader) *

should we just keep driving? (gojo satoru x fem!reader) * moving my anime stuff to my new blog

* indicates nsfw content

[sumsebien]

Hello! I was trying to reread your Prince Friedrich story and can't seem to access the first chapter. I remember loving this story and it's been long enough that I've forgotten some parts and am excited to read it again! I remember it being so captivating and well written! I hope you can help lead me in the right direction! I really enjoy your work and appreciate you sharing it with the world! 🖤

Hi! First of all, I’m soooo happy that you enjoyed the story and remember it enough to come back to it🥹🥹🥹. I’ll leave the links down here for you.

I have two Friedrich series:

1/ your highness/i’ll be in ruins for you (completed)

- masterlist

- first chap

2/ by design (in progress/hiatus)

- masterlist

- first chap

Let me know if any of the links don’t work. Hope this helps!!

[sumsebien]

hey! i love your bridgerton fics! just thought that should be said :)

thank you!! they’re really well loved and for that, i feel well loved as well😭

[sumsebien]

'by design' was so good it ate downn omg pls let it come back 😔🙏🏾

well for this alone, i would seriously consider revisiting it sometimes

[sumsebien]

i’m sure you’ll never come back to this blog but i truly love your “by design” fic, i’d be heartbroken if you ever deleted this account. i literally revisit it like once every three months like a ritual 😭 pls i love it too much 🩷🩷🩷

hi! i won’t delete it so don’t worry!!! thank you for reading. this made my week🥹

[sumsebien]

how i won the war (3/3) // the darkling

p‌art 1 // part 2 // masterlist

summary: sun summoner!yn becomes general but at what costs?

pairing: the darkling x fem sun summoner! yn

warning: mention of death, spoilers for the show and the first book, if you don't like darkling please don't read this

word count: 4.6k

a/n: i wasn't going to write this but look at where we are :))

Y/N didn’t know what she expected when she closed her eyes that night and called for the dark. To save Ravka? To protect herself? To prove something to Baghra? But she knew when she told David to put the chains around Aleksander, he would never forgive her.

She couldn’t shake the look in his eyes when he realized what had happened. He wasn’t angry, didn’t scream “traitor!”, didn’t fight off the chains. In a way, she wished he’d done those things. That she would have understood. Instead, he gazed up at you, his hands bound, knees bent.

“Is this what you wanted, Y/N?” he said. His voice broke, shattering her too.

She couldn’t give him an answer. Because the truth was that she didn’t have one. What do you want?

“Miss Y/L/N-?”

Y/N snapped out of her daze, finding herself in the well-lit throne room. She was in Os Alta, not Tsibeya. And in front of her was the King, not Aleksander on his knees.

“I apologize, moi tsar-”

He didn’t care for your excuse, continuing with his speech, “On behalf of Ravka, we commend you on uncovering this treasonous scheme, bringing us one step closer to uniting our great nation…”

The king went on but she just let his words glide by, distracted by the ache on her collarbones, still raw where the antlers had been mended. Luckily, she had a shawl to cover them. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be standing in the middle of the Grand Palace without a leash.

“-And so, for your brave efforts, I, hereby, declare you General of the Second Army.”

She nearly yelled “What?” but she knew better. If there was anything she’d learnt from Aleksander, it was his composure. Even in the most bizarre situation...like this one. Next to the King stood-No, it can’t be. She closed her eyes. This cannot be it. Opening them again, she saw, still standing there, Aleksander. He was right in front of the guard. Yet none of them seemed to notice anything wrong. Not even when he began to walk down the steps towards her.

“What is there to think about?” the King snapped, slamming his grubby fingers against the throne.

Aleksander stood in her way, his tall gait blocking her view of the King. He was still him, jet black hair perfectly combed back, kefta pressed neatly. Still more poised and elegant than she could ever be.

“Are you saying no to your King?”

“No!” she threw her hands up. Aleksander arched his brow.

“Miss. Y/L/N-” the King warned.

She sucked in a deep breath, looking at her feet to avoid the piercing gaze Aleksander was giving her. “What I meant, moi tsar, is thank you for this honor. I will not let you down.” As she said it, Aleksander walked closer and closer to her, sending her heart pounding, the antlers almost burning her skin from within. But before he could reach her, he disappeared, dissolved into thin air. A cruel joke.

The King laughed, “You had better not, General. I have your first assignment.”

She shook the image of him from her head, his gaze, his voice, his touch, “Yes, anything, moi tsar,”

“I want you to decide how we are to punish the traitor and his mother.”

...

The first time they met, Aleksander used the Cut to kill a man trying to harm her. She didn’t know what it was. Just that one moment, there was a man. And a blink of an eye later, in his place were nothing more than pieces, lying on the ground like a broken china. She yelled, crawling away and shutting her eyes to try and make the horrid images disappear. They never did.

When Y/N arrived at the Little Palace, one of the first things she did was ask Baghra what it was. She described what she had seen from the shadow blade to the peculiar way the man was cut up into fragments. The little old lady gave Y/N nothing more than a glare and a kick on the calf, demanding her to get on with her work.

That night, Aleksander found her in the gardens, breaking up fallen twigs and idly throwing them onto the ground. A small bunch had already gathered at her feet when he sat down.

“Beautiful night, isn’t it?” asked Aleksander, drawing her attention to him.

“Yes,” she nodded, letting go of the branch in her hand immediately.

He had seen it. Her face began to heat up as she shoved her little collection underneath the bench with the back of her heel.

“Too beautiful to be wasted on some silly matter,” he continued, looking into her eyes. “Tell me what’s on your mind and I might just be able to help you with it.”

“General, what happened that day we met? What killed the man?” she asked.

The fold between his brows smoothed over when he learned what had been plaguing her. “Ah, I knew you would ask me that.”

“I tried to ask Baghra. She kicked me.”

He smiled, “Of course she did.”

“Will you tell me?”

“I will teach you, so long as you use it responsibly. Do I have your word, Miss Y/L/N?”

“I promise.”

…

“With all due respect, sir, this is a mistake. Baghra has done nothing wrong. She’s innocent,” Y/N argued, going to tell the tale of how she’d told Y/N the identity of her son and the way to fight him. Not to mention she was the only person qualified to teach Grishas how to harness their powers. Without her, the Second Army would not be the same.

The King seemed displeased by the fact that he was wrong but he agreed to let Baghra go. “Then how do you suggest we go about this business?”

“Baghra was the one who advised me to do this. She should go free, sir.”

He waved his hand, “Fine. But she’ll be put under supervision.”

Y/N sighed in relief, “Thank you, sir-”

“And the Heretic?”

“Prison, sir. We’ll design a cell for him that he can’t escape and-“

“And risk another coup? No, the Heretic must be executed.”

Death? This was no longer a matter of simply punishing a criminal. It was a demonstration of power to anyone who may be watching, a warning to people who would dare challenge the crown. And she was going to be all alone, the only one of her kind.

The hesitation in her eyes sent the King glaring, eyes narrowed, suspicion rising in the silence, “Do you think treasonous crimes should go unpunished?”

“Of course not, sir-“

“Then I expect to meet you tomorrow morning in the courtyard for the execution,” he said, standing up to leave. “General.”

…

Y/N wanted to scream her lungs out. She had gone straight back to her room, locked herself up and bawled. What was happening to her? She didn’t ask for any of this. She didn’t want to be General. She didn’t know how to be a General. All she knew was that she couldn’t let Aleksander take her power. And in the process, she had taken his everything.

As she sat on the cold bathroom floor, she felt the shadows call to her from underneath the sink, the bath, from the creak in her closet, under the bed. They gathered around her like motherless animals to the first creature they encountered.

She waved it away, turned the other cheek and summoned the light instead. The little ball of the light in her hand illuminated the little corner where she had retreated to, offering a little warmth and comfort. At least, she still had this part of her left. The Sun Summoner.

The ball of light in her hand flickered once before dying in her hands. Not good enough. Baghra would have said. Baghra.

As Y/N flung the doors to her room open, a few maids were already gathered alongside some First Army soldiers in the hall. They gazed at her, wide eyed when they saw the General. Y/N realized her shawl had fallen off inside her room. They scanned her outfit, the bloodstain splattered on the hem of her kefta.

Just like Aleksander would, she heaved a breath, annoyed, “What?”

“We are here to escort you to dinner, General.”

“I will not be having dinner,” she said simply, walking past them.

“But ma’am, may I ask where you’re going?” one of the soldiers asked.

“Do I need your permission to go places now?” she snapped.

Subconsciously, she sent the corridor into an eerie tunnel of darkness, shadows crawling down from the walls, spilling onto the floor like a thick black mist. The soldier dipped his head, apologizing profusely. The others all had looks of fear in their eyes as they cowered away from Y/N. It was the first time any Otkazat'sya had seen the Sun Summoner summon shadows. In a split second, Y/N felt a victorious surge of power. They had feared her.

What was happening to her? The false pride didn’t last, quickly replaced by her own fear of the person she was already becoming. It was pretend at first, an impression of Aleksander but her anger wasn’t. That was real. She’d answered the shadows.

Y/N shook the thoughts from her head. It was probably because she hadn’t slept since the carriage to Tsibeya and that was a day ago. She would love to fall back on the bed, close her eyes and forget everything. But she had to see Baghra, had to know that she was freed before any peace could come next.

The familiar smell of wood on fire filled her nose when she got to the entrance of Baghra’s hut. There were soldiers on guard outside. Y/N sighed, relieved. At least, she was safe. In a way, Baghra’s hut was a reminder of when things were good. Then, Aleksander was General Kirigan to her, Morozova’s stag was just a myth and she was just a Grisha new to power, trying to get control over the magic that resided within her. Y/N made her way down the dark steps, dodging jagged stones poking out from all sides of the cavernous hideout. A person could survive an apocalypse under these roofs. She thought, pushing away a hanging branch.

Before she could turn the corner, a familiar voice croaked, “Who is it?”

“It’s me.”

“Leave,” Baghra waved a dismissive hand, throwing a branch to the hungry flames. The old lady stood straighter, gripping her cane as she threw Y/N a spiteful look, “Why are you here? Don’t you have other places to be?”

Y/N stood there like an idiot, watching as the orange embers rose, threatening to scorch anything in its path. The truth was that she had nowhere else to go and no one to talk to. Staying in her room would drive her insane and she would rather sell her soul before joining the King for dinner. “Please don’t ask me to go. I don’t have anywhere else to turn.”

“You did that to yourself. Toughen up,” Baghra said, her tone ice cold.

With each of Baghra’s words, the destructive monster grew within her, consuming the better part of her judgement until it eventually took over and she broke. “I didn’t ask for any of this! I did as you told me, because you asked me to fight him!”

Baghra refused to turn and look at Y/N, keeping her eyes on the fire. “Did I tell you to bring him back as a captive, to kill him?”

“I tried to ask the King to have mercy. I will help him escape-”

“Not good enough, General. Like everything else you do. Are you that naive? I will lose my son.You are useless now so run. I do not wish to see the face of his murderer.”

Y/N did run. At that point, tears were running down her face like rain. Everything was blurry, everything hurt. It was like she was attacking herself from within, the horrible pressure on her collar bones made her sick. On top of that, the shadows began calling her again, pulling her to them. And this time, she answered.

...

The shadows didn’t come to her like they did in the forest last night. Instead of a thin veil of darkness covering the room, she found herself completely somewhere else. A damp unlit hallway and definitely not the palace’s gardens. In the darkness, he was able to pick up loose details - moldy brick walls, steel bars, the smell of something rotting. And finally, a faint scent of sweet cologne.

“Here to see me, General?”

Aleksander.

Y/N froze. In the far corner, behind the bars was him. Her Aleksander. He stood up when she saw him. He was just the same as he was hours ago. She took a few steps closer so that she could make out the elegant lines of his body draped in his fine kefta, his hair ruffled but more put together than hers could ever be. Still gorgeous.

Y/N fisted her hands, trying to stop them from shaking. “How did you do this? How did you get me here?”

“I didn’t do it. You did,” he said, a strange wonder in his eyes staring back at her.

“I don’t understand,” she shook her head.

“Like calls to like,” he said simply.

And then, it dawned on her. Aleksander had been seeking out her company and in a way, she longed for the comfort that only he could provide. He was right. He was the only one who could understand her struggles from now on with all this power and no clue how to use them. What would she be without him? The thought sent a pang through her chest, a sharp pain tugging at her heart. Nothing.

“Take off the shawl. I want to see them,” he said quietly.

He was the only one who could make a demand sound like a plea. But she hesitated, fingers gently resting on the hem of the soft fabric. She didn’t want to face it - the monstrosity she was going to have to live with for the rest of her life.

“The least you could do is to let me see what your betrayal was worth.”

Y/N dropped her hands. “You betrayed me first.”

Aleksander chuckled, lifting his hands, the shackles rustling against the stone floors. “And yet, I am the one in chains.”

“I-No,” she held up her hand. “You were going to destroy the world. You were going to use my powers to hurt, to kill people. You can’t deny that!”

He nodded, hanging his head in thought before nodding (to her utter surprise). “Yes, you’re right,” he said, wrapping his hands around the bars, “I was going to hurt, to kill but I would never have let them lay a finger on you.”

Her voice lowered into a painful whisper, “No, Aleksander. If it meant serving you a purpose, you would have killed me too.”

“My purpose was you.”

Y/N turned away, “Don’t do this. Don’t lie.”

“I am not lying,” he smiled. “I love you, Y/N.”

Y/N scanned his face. She was mistaken last night. The wondrous glint didn’t die, it still shone bright even from the depths of his dark gaze, piercing through her soul. With her free hand, she reached up to cup his stubbled jaws, running her thumb over his cheek. He let a tired sigh escape his lips, leaning into her palm.

“They want to kill you,” she said.

“I know,” he opened his eyes, holding her hand in his now. “Do you remember the day you met me at the camps?”

She nodded. How could I forget?

“That day, I knew. I knew I was going to live and die for you. And I did and I will,” he tugged gently at her hand, “Can I ask you something of you?“

“What is it?”

“Promise me you will protect us. This world is a cruel place for a Grisha without a banner. Be their banner. Be the leader I know you can be.”

She gulped, giving him a weak nod.

“Good girl,” he smiled, looking at her hand in his. “And tomorrow, they will want to bring me to the guillotine. But I don’t want to die like that-“

She twisted her body, shaking her head to try and get rid of the horrid images he was painting. “Aleksander, no. No. No! I will persuade the King. I will help you escape. I will take out these locks-”

He reached out, grasping her hand again to stop her. He towered over her, his hypnotic eyes demanding her attention. “You can’t,” he whispered, “the locks were made by David himself.”

The humor went unappreciated. It was misplaced. She was in no mood to laugh now.

“Aleksander, I can not kill you.”

“You can and you will. I will not die at the hands of a pathetic little Otkazat’sya.”

The thought of losing him was bad enough, now she was going to have to do it? There was no way she would agree to this crooked arrangement, no matter how much he tried to guilt trip her. He could do it himself.

“Y/N,” he lowered his head to match her gaze, “say that you will. Grant me some peace.”

“I love you, Aleksander,” she whispered.

“Y/N, you have to do it. I will not let myself die like that-”

“Yes. I promise,” she lied.

But he didn’t have to know that. He let his shoulders slump and his muscles relax. Leaning his forehead against the bars, touching hers, their hands still intertwined, he whispered, “I love you, Y/N.”

That was the last image she had of him before she was transported again. He had eyes closed, resting his head against hers with a peaceful look across his features.

When she blinked, she was sucked back into the gardens. It was dark, the sun had gone down, leaving the sky a shade of maroon.

Y/N collapsed onto the floor, sobs escaping her body in violent waves. Somehow, being respected, feared and celebrated for her power could not make her happier than a few moments alone with him.

What if he was the only thing that could balance her out? What would happen when she became too powerful? What if she went mad drowning in her grief and loneliness? What good would she do, then? Would she create another Fold but worse? And above all, selfishly, what if he was the one?

…

The morning came like an uninvited guest. Y/N woke up in her bed with a headache, not knowing how she ended up there. She got dressed in a new kefta that her maids brought in, entirely gold with blue embroidery - the colors of Ravka. She drank her tea, ignoring the rest of her breakfast. She stared out the windows, waiting for a miracle. It’s too rainy to kill him today. The King changed his mind, he wants the Heretic on display. Anything.

“Focus your light into a blade.”

“A blade?” she asked, shooting him a look from over her shoulder. The General stood a step away from her, hands behind his back.

His lips worked into a smile, “A line, then. To make it easy.”

She summoned the light, first in the familiar shape of a sphere and then tried to think as hard as she could of a line. Nothing was happening. The light sat stubbornly over her hand, flickering just to spite her. Behind her, he chuckled quietly. She let her hands fall, turning to face him with slumped shoulders. They had been trying for ten minutes, unfruitfully.

“It’s harder than it looks.”

“It’s really not. Takes a few tries to get it into a blade but after that, everything should be plain and simple.”

“You mean IF I can get it into a blade?”

He laughed, gesturing to her hands, “Try again. This time imagine a line in front of you and fill it with your light.”

There was a knock. It was time. Y/N got up, her cloak dragging behind her. She wasn’t used to all the extra weight of it but she was grateful that it could cover the antlers. The First Army soldiers led her down to the courtyard of the Grand Palace where the King and Queen was there conversing excitedly with a couple of high ranked commanders. Saints, was this even an execution anymore? Y/N looked away, the guillotine he had told her about glimmering in the corner of her eyes.

“General!” the King called, waving her over.

“Moi tsar,” she greeted him before turning to the Queen and her sons - Vasily and Nikolai. Both under 10. Children. Y/N looked at the King and then back at the kids. She didn’t even want to begin imagining the kind of effects this would have on their innocent minds and the type of parents they had who would want them to see this.

“Children, this is the General,” the Queen said. “She will save us all, won’t you?”

Y/N gave a wobbly smile. She was really not sure about that.

The younger boy stuck out his tiny hand, “Nikolai, nice to meet you, General.”

“Nice to meet you, moi tsarevich.”

Vasily pushed his brother, shooting his hand out, “What about me?”

“And you too.”

“Will you stand with us, General?” Nikolai asked, unphased by his brother’s bullying.

“Yes, she will,” the King replied, “She’ll stand right here.”

Y/N forced a grin just for Nikolai. The small boy seemed to not know what was going to happen. He stood happily next to her, tugging at her hand occasionally to point out certain people. His brother was on her other side, glaring at his brother. They were good at distracting her.

“Like this?” Y/N asked, finally forming something that roughly resembled a line in front of her.

“Yes! Like that. Now keep it there,” he said. Then, she felt his hand covering hers, guiding them carefully until the line curved into a blade. “When it’s curved like this, you may propel it forward. If it’s done right then it should be able to slice through just about anything. Ready?”

Y/N nodded. He backed away, giving her the space.

“Aim for the bench,” he said.

The light sliced through the air at her command, eventually reaching the bench and cutting it in half.

“There you go!” he clapped. “You can even do it with one hand.”

Y/N snapped back into reality at Nikolai’s voice, “Is that him, Papa?”

She looked up. Escorted by a group of First Army soldiers and Heartrenders she had never met was Aleksander. He had his head down, hands chained behind his back as they led him all the way up the platform where the executioner awaited him.

As soon as the crowd saw him, they began to whisper in low voices. Yet, she could hear every single one of the things they were saying. Traitor. Heretic. Abomination. He did nothing for this country. He is a heartless monster. I hear he eats children for breakfast.

They gave him dirty looks, some spat on the ground. People who once praised him endlessly for his bravery, vying for his attention.

She found herself, yet again, angry. It was a constant feeling always simmering, waiting for its time to burst. And right now, it was ready to unleash itself on all these people. But then, all her intentions fell away with just one glance. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat when his eyes seeked her out. She could hear him in his gaze.

Kill me, Y/N.

One of the guards cleared his voice, silencing the crowd. “Former General Kirigan, under the command of the wise King of Ravka, you are hereby condemned to death for high treason. Do you have any last words?”

I’m not doing it.

His eyes were on her the whole time, pleading as he recognized the hesitation in her eyes. Aleksander was buying time, pretending to think of his last words until he realized she wasn’t going to do it. Then, he shook his head, one last plea held in his gaze.

“Very well,” the guard waved a signal for the rest to lower him into position, opening the lunette.

Y/N stepped forward. She could feel the shadows calling her again, he was calling her. Her collars ached, her head whirred and her vision went blurry. Everything else melted together in colorful swirls but he was clear as day to her. The first rays of sunlight always brought out the delicacy of his features. He was most handsome in the morning with sleep still burdening his eyes, his voice soft and low. You’re never going to see him, hear him again. Y/N felt like crying, screaming just looking at him and contemplating what he had asked of her.

“Aleksander,” she whispered, her eyes glossy.

He gave her a nod and a smile.

It was time. She nudged Nikolai and Vasily so that they stood behind her. With shaky hands and a blurry vision, she swallowed the lump in her throat, summoning everything with all her might. Not just shadow or light. Both.

I love you.

…

“What’s next?” the boy, just a little over ten asked, practically jumping off of the bed in anticipation.

“Mal, the next part is so good! Just wait!” the girl around his age replied, grabbing onto her friend’s wrist.

Her mom laughed, looking down at her battered copy of Istorii Sankt’ya. The Starless Saint and the Eclipse was always a winner with the kids. She had read it three times to Alina before but this was Mal’s first time. And something told her it wasn’t going to be the last.

She smiled. “The General stepped forward, light bursting in one hand while shadows spilled from the other. In a blink, the Darkling was reduced to nothing more than golden ashes, carried away by the winds. Legend has it, on that day, the Moon met the Sun to create an eclipse in the sky.”

Mal gazed in wonder, his chin held in his hands. Alina clapped, begging for another. “Please Mama! Please tell us another one!”

“I’m afraid that must wait until another time,” she said, closing the book in her lap. “Mal’s parents might worry since their son was yet to be home.”

Alina frowned, “Not yet, Mama. One more about them? The one that’s not in the book.”

“Fine. Just this one.”

The children squealed, nodding rapidly, tucking their hands under their chin.

“Well, there are some who believe that behind the Starless Saint and the Eclipse hid a love story. A story about how she won the war but in doing so, lost her greatest love.”

general: @milkbaer @korol-lantsov @jjficz @bicyhot1 @shadowhuntyi @keithseabrook27 @timeknightt @kaqua @aliiiyyaaah @bookfrog242

series: @swthxrry @tartiflvtte @keepdaydreamingbb @remugoodgirl @stargirl76 @kawaiimarshmallow @fultimefangirl @bookscoffeandotherstuff @lilacs-lavender @evyiione @savannah-elliott @falcvns @stargirl76 @pansysgirlfriend

[sumsebien]

still one of my favs. funny backstory: i was obsessed with the darkling in the first few eps of the first season (ofc before he was exposed as a little gaslighting piece of poo) and the first part was written while i was processing the info that he was an ass. the third part, this one, made me cry while writing it cuz while he is and will always be a shit, i still like how tortured his character was to write

[a-asterias]

— micaela's february recs

ty to all these amazing writers who have left me with butterflies in my stomach and/or tears rolling down my face, much appreciated <3

GRISHAVERSE

— nikolai lantsov.

young royals by @clairecrive

currents by @lantsovsupremacist

↳ you are in love

the art of pretension by @fleurspun

↳ sick and stubborn

↳ healer's duties

love language by @fishley

speak up by @prince-septimus

sugar cube by @magpiencrow

a dare for a truth by @sumsebien

— kaz brekker.

when am i gonna lose you? by @crowsmybeloveds

confrontations in a lonely club by @curseofaphrodite

what do you want from me? by @romeomontaague

silent birthdays by @amourology

↳ schat

you are done for by @sumsebien

this is what happens by @fishley

MARVEL

— peter parker.

you more than anything by @nghtwngs

↳ you love me, i love you

on that rooftop by @nezuscribe

skateboards, the force, and a lack of pants by @damnedparker

secrets and skateparks by @earthgirl616

aurora by @mgparker

scenes from a modern romance by @dameronology

— marc spector.

just let me dream a little more by @the-archxr

— matt murdock.

green is the color by @courtforshort15

the defence rests by @dameronology

OUTER BANKS

— jj maybank.

hot for a pogue by @butgilinsky

meet me at our spot by @amourology

— rafe cameron.

midsummers by @butgilinsky

so gorgeous it actually hurts by @folkloreslovechild

HARRY POTTER

— fred weasley.

after all this time by @httpbakugou

MARAUDERS

— james potter.

five times james wanted to kiss you and the one time he did by @moonlitmeeks

— sirius black.

all your fault by @heloisedaphnebrightmore

↳ absurd ideas

'cause i don't want you like a best friend by @evermoreal

grand scheme by @fishley

— remus lupin.

it's time to go by @godlessandwrecked

BRIDGERTON

— benedict bridgerton.

en garde by @delphispoeticals

show me love by @romeomontaague

— anthony bridgerton.

should've never let go by @writeroutoftime

illicit affairs by @marwritesgood

— colin bridgerton.

alone together by @romeomontaague

TOP GUN

— bradley bradshaw.

delirium by @kyber-crystal

↳ head in the clouds

ENOLA HOLMES

— sherlock holmes.

invisible string by @marwritesgood

AVATAR

— lo'ak.

in full bloom by @loaksky

— neteyam.

warm hands by @loaksky

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON

— aemond targaryen.

corridor kisses by @flowerpotmage

[sumsebien]

omg tysm for the mentions. "you are done for "was cute and i think most people would agree but "a dare for a truth" has a special place in my heart ;;

[saskimplaid]

⋆·˚ ༘ * MASTERLIST ⋆·˚ ༘ *

i write for jjk (gojo satoru, nanami kento, fushiguro megumi, geto suguru), bsd (nakahara chuuya, dazai osamu, fukuzawa yukichi) and spy x family (loid forger, yor briar)

*indicates nsfw content; MDI

╰┈➤ JUJUTSU KAISEN

GOJO

should we just keep driving? (gojo x fem!reader) (from my old blog) *

househusband (sub!gojo x fem!reader) *

╰┈➤ BUNGO STRAY DOGS (nothing yet)

╰┈➤ SPY X FAMILY (nothing yet)

[sumsebien]

look at this gorgeous masterlist i made on my new blog y’all. time to get your ass over here and check it out ⏰ it’s a bit vacated at the mo’ but i promise i’ll fill it up soon

[sa2sugu]

dudes

[sumsebien]

uh how much money will it take for us to get geto in braids?

[moyaci]

I don’t allow reposting or using my fanart for whatever reasons. Please refrain from inquiries about them.

[sumsebien]

teehee look at that handsome man go

[thatdeadmikey-deactivated202411]

[sumsebien]

yes, sir. i’m going down first………………. going down on you! ha!

[ceejles]

oooo

[alison-anonymous]

everything passes.

this too, will pass.

Recoloring: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/81768549480091857/

[sumsebien]

should we just keep driving? ; gojo satoru

summary: you run into problems on your road trip and gojo has plans to make you forget all of them

pairing: gojo x fem!reader

warnings: language, nsfw content (fingering, semi-public sex, unprotected sex)

word count: 2.9k

a/n: unhinged behavior is me writing this while listening to a nanami playlist. who do i love more? i shall never know

Gojo doesn’t drive.

You’ve long accepted the fact that the day Gojo Satoru takes the wheels the ground beneath will crumble like stale cookies. Still, that doesn’t mean you’re not bothered having to be driving him around all the time. 

Usually, Ijichi has the pleasure of escorting and chasing after Gojo around town. But on off-duty days, such as this one, it’s your job. 

It’s not that you didn’t want to go to Disneyland. If anything, you wanted it just as much as the silly blonde you call your boyfriend. Maybe that’s precisely why you shook off the thick, gray clouds clumping together in the sky. 

It’s only a thirty minute drive in ideal conditions. You’ll beat the rain.

But then again, when has driving with Gojo ever been ideal?

When you’re supposed to be out the door, he’s in the kitchen, giving onigiris some Mickey ears. When you’re supposed to be half way through with your trip, he’s somewhere in the closet, conducting something that can be considered an excavation to find the exact pair of sunglasses he wanted. Three space mountain rides later, Gojo’s yellow-tinted sunglasses are finally resting on the bridge of his nose. 

You’re so behind on schedule that you just shove him into the passenger seat and hurry yourself in, completely missing the odd whirring underneath the hood. The sound is lost in the humming of tires on the road, hurried footsteps crossing the sidewalks and muffled music bleeding through department store windows. But it cannot be more recognizable in the tranquil outskirts of the city. 

You want to believe you’re hallucinating, that maybe it’s the sky or the car next to you. So you turn to the man next to you. 

“Hey, do you hear that?”

Gojo perks up, pushing his lollipop aside to answer you. “Hear what?” 

Huh, maybe you were hallucinating after all. 

“Nevermind.” Wait. Did you see that right? You take another glance. Your eyes don’t lie. The lollipop you’ve been saving for occasions like this is now in his mouth. “Hey! Is that mine?” 

Before Gojo can answer, the engine sputters. The little symbol that you dread lights up — Check engine. With what's left of its energy, you manage to steer the car into the emergency lane. You pull the handbrake and get out of the car, leaving Gojo behind. 

His curious gaze follows you as you’re standing in front of the car with your hands anchored on your hips. A heavy sigh leaves your lips and you shake your head. 

In the car, Gojo waves his lollipop, gesturing for you to come over. You return to the driver’s side. He leans over your seat, easily reaching the button with his long arm. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks once your face comes clearly into view. 

“The car gave up. I’ll just pop the hood and check it out.” 

Gojo opens the door for you. You hold it and bend down to find the rectangular lever that will release the hood. Just as your fingers close around it, you feel wetness on your back. You shiver as it slides down your spine. Water. Your brain doesn’t fully register what it is until the sky rumbles and shakes the earth. Sheets of rain sweep across the ground, covering a good amount of you before you could scramble back into your seat. 

The leftover air from the AC turns your clothes into ice against your skin. You’re not going to get your long-awaited vacation and you’re also going to get sick. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, closing your eyes and taking a shaky breath. 

“Fuck, indeed.”

Your eyes open, regaining their focus slowly. Dangling in front of your face is the tan button-up that Gojo was wearing. He’s now only in a white t-shirt, a big smile on his face. Of course he would jump at the chance of taking his clothes off. 

“Wear this. You can dry your clothes in the back seat.” 

You don’t give it another thought, taking his shirt and twirling a finger in the air. “Turn around.” 

“But babe…”

You shake your head. “I’m still annoyed at you. Turn around.” 

He mumbles something underneath his breath but he obeys, crossing his arms in front of his chest. 

The moment your fingers hook onto the seam of your shirt, everything turns dark. Outside the windows, you see ink bleeding down thin air into a thick dome surrounding the car. You grin. He’s put on a Veil just so you can change out of your clothes.

“If I don’t get to look, no one else does,” he says. You can practically hear the pout on his lips. 

You peel your shirt and shorts off quickly and replace them with his shirt. It’s already oversized on him so on you, it’s a dress. 

“Are you done-” You lean over and give him a peck on the cheek before he’s able to finish his question. 

“Thanks.” Your lips brush the shell of his ear. “That was very considerate of you.”

Gojo is very cool and calm but after that, he can’t help but blush. He masks it with a quick laugh as the veil melts away outside. “No big deal, really,” he says. But you would recognize that subtle rosy shade on the apples of his cheeks anywhere.

Quite adorable, if you have to admit. 

You return to your seat, picking up your phone to look for your mechanic’s number. “Do you think you could power this car with cursed energy?” you muse. “We’d get there in like 5 minutes.”

“Ah, I wish. You would have to take me everywhere you go.” 

“Ha! I’d rather take the bus.”

He’s pouting again but this time, he’s looking straight at you. You seem to have no problem being cruel to him today. Making him turn away, telling him you’d rather take the bus with a bunch of strangers rather than spend time with him. Everything came so naturally. 

And just why might that be? 

If Gojo were to really analyze the situation, he supposes he’s been a little too easy with you lately. 

Well, then, it’s high time for some revenge. 

“Aha! Bingo!” You hit dial, putting the phone up to your ear. “Don’t worry. We’ll be rescued in no time.” 

He’s back to focusing on his strawberry lollipop. “I never said I was worried.” When you’re looking, he takes a particularly long and slow lick. He closes his lips around the candy and then, he pulls it out with a wet pop. 

Gojo knows his plan has succeeded when your eyes refuse to look away. Not even for a second. You’re chewing on your lips, too. There really is no other way. 

With a mischievous grin splattered across his face, he bends over your body. You’re clueless as to what he’s trying to do until you feel your seat sliding all the way back. One hand holds onto your seat and acts as an anchor for Gojo to swing himself over. 

He’s kneeling on the floor, looking up into your eyes with his impossibly blue ones. You look at the lollipop’s hanging between two of his fingers. And back into his eyes. “What are you about to do?”

“I’m going to kiss you, of course,” he admits blatantly, tucking the lollipop behind your ear. 

Gojo takes your cheeks into his hands and your mouth into his. He tastes refreshingly tangy, like a field of strawberries in early summer. But his lips are much sweeter than the lollipop he was sucking on. Your free hand finds his platinum hair easily, the strands silky and soft as you tug him away. 

Gojo sits back on his heels. “Hm, what’s the matter, princess?” 

You ignore the fuzzy feeling in the pit of your stomach. ‘Princess’ always does something to you. And this bastard knows it. “We’re in the middle of the road!” 

“When has that ever stopped us before?” 

You give him a flat look. “I was only changing and you were pulling the Veil out. Now you’re telling me—”

“Hello, how may I help you?” 

Your eyes go wide. In the panic, your thumb hovers over the red button with full intentions to hang up. It’s going to take a long time for the tow truck to get here. Not to mention the lightning slicing the sky in half and the merciless rain beating down anything in its path. 

You’ll deal with Gojo and then, this car.

You nod to yourself about your bulletproof plan. But the bullet you didn’t anticipate is sitting right in front of you, smirking like he knows exactly what you’re going to do.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to hang up, baby.” he coos. “Now, where’s the fun in that? Answer it.” 

“Hello? Is anyone there?” 

Gojo raises his brow, daring you not to answer. You sigh. The things you would do for this man. 

You clear your voice and proceed to stare out the window at the side of the mountain. “Oh, hi!” You ignore the gentle circles he has begun to rub on your hips. But you can’t ignore the warm wet kiss pressed against your neck. 

“Go on,” he commands, hands tightening round your thighs.

“My car just broke down in the middle of the road—” You let out a gasp as his hand travels up your body and is now unclasping your bra. When did he unbutton the shirt? 

Clearly, Gojo understands the confusion in your eyes. In response, he winks, throwing your clothes onto the passenger’s seat. 

“Are you okay, ma’am?” 

You bite down on your lip, trying hard to suppress a moan as his large hands find your breast, squeezing and kneading relentlessly. It only gets tougher to be quiet when the ministrations of his lips start. “Yes, I am. Ah –” He rolls your skin into his mouth, sucking on it and then, sinks his teeth in. “Sorry. Uh — How fast can you get here with your truck?”

“It’s really difficult to get anyone out in this weather, I’m afraid. Would you be able to wait?” 

A finger ghosts over your folds, rubbing gently, but with enough pressure to make your head go dizzy. 

You lean into his touch, desperate for some real friction. That silent request seems to line up perfectly with what he’s about to do anyways. He has no issue lending you his finger. Though, he’s taking his damn sweet time, pushing and pulling at the pace of a snail. 

You rest your temple against the cold glass windows for some relief, having forgotten completely about the mechanic’s question and the mechanic being right on the other line.

Lucky for you, before you could give anything away, the person on the other line speaks up, “Ma’am?” 

“Yeah!” you say loudly, compensating for the previous silence. “I’m willing to wait. That’s fine.”

But you win some and you lose some. 

His eyes look emerald through the yellow glasses. It brings out the ambitious, determined, unrelenting side of him. The side that has no problem saying, “You’d be willing to wait, huh? Wait, then.” 

Everything stops. Snail’s pace or not, at least you had something. Now, you’re left sprawled out, pathetically slick and wanting. You know you walked yourself right into that one. Still, that doesn’t change the fact that it’s humiliating, enraging and unnecessarily evil. 

“Give me a second,” you say to your phone and press mute, no longer bothered to wait for confirmation. “Gojo Satoru! I’m going to fucking murder you!” 

He shakes his head, clicking his tongue. “Threats are not going to get you anywhere, baby girl. Begs, on the other hand?” He grins. “That’s my weakness.”

You roll your eyes. If only he wasn’t so damn good with his hands. You close your eyes and when they reopen again, you make sure you give him the best puppy eyes you’ve got. “Please, please, I want you. I just want you alone. I don’t want to be quiet anymore.”

“Ah, well,” he throws his head back in a careless, airy laugh. “Who could say no to that? Finish your call and get in the back.” 

You have never been so impatient to get off of a call before. You mumbled a brief description of your address and then you were jumping at the chance of bidding goodbyes. They were in the middle of instructing you on something but you couldn’t, for the life of you, focus on that right now. The grip you had on your phone was so tight, you were scared it would snap in two when you finally let go. 

In the backseat, Gojo has finished the lollipop. You didn’t even notice when he took it back. He’s in the middle of taking off his shirt when he catches you looking. Backlit by the purple lightning stabbing the sky and dragging its sharp blade across, he looks menacing and ethereal at the same time. 

Now, you’re not exactly an expert on how that could be. You just know you can’t waste any more time.

“You better make this worth it,” you say before joining him in the back.

He wraps his hands around your waist. “Oh, when have I ever left you unsatisfied?” Gojo kisses you, pushing the shirt off your shoulders so that you’re completely undressed. 

His nose brushes your collar bone for a split second as his lips caress your chest. “You smell like me. What a lucky bastard I am.” 

That’s pride you hear. 

You lay back into the seat, head prompted against the door. Gojo returns to your lips, tongue delving into your mouth. You hear his belt unbuckling and then falls to the ground with a click. All the while, his lips never left yours. 

“Satoru,” you moan out when he lowers his tip into you. Just the tip and you feel like you could come undone already. 

He laughs. “Satoru, now. Is it?” With that, he pushes you down a little farther, a little farther until there’s absolutely no space between your bodies. “That was very quick, baby. You must be enjoying yourself.” Gojo grabs onto your ass when there’s no response. “Are you?” 

“Y–Yeah,” you pant, pushing your forehead into the crook of his neck. 

“Want me to go a little faster?” 

You nod immediately, eyes squeezed shut and hands gripping around his biceps in anticipation. 

“Your request is my command.” 

Gojo is the type of man to take that to heart. He pushes himself up with the palms of his hand and then drops back down. This time you feel his dick much deeper than before, hitting all the spots, ticking all your boxes. 

After all, he’s got every inch of you memorized. 

“My baby is taking me so well,” he says between groans. “Feel so good around me. How am I to go anywhere without you?” 

You’re clawing at his back, pulling him closer to you by the hair. Motivates him even more to be ruthless with his thrusts. 

“You’re not supposed to, remember?” You muster all the remaining strength you’ve got to not stutter. 

Gojo agrees whole-heartedly. “That’s right, darling. That’s it. You’ve got it.” 

His thumb circles your sensitive nub, pushing you a little closer towards the edge of the precipice. It won’t take much more to have you crumble. 

Same goes for Gojo. You’re clenching so deliciously around him, making every little movement difficult. 

But if there’s one thing you should know about him is that once his mind is made, there’s nothing that can change it. And he’s set on making you cum first. 

“You’ve been a good girl,” he says. “Driving me everywhere, waiting for me so patiently, playing my games.” You whine when he throws your legs over his muscular shoulders. “Let me indulge you.” 

He leans close to your ear, stopping his pace for a blink so he could whisper, “Let it all go for me, won’t you?” 

You heave a long breath before letting all inhibitions evaporate into thin air. Couple more thrusts and your back’s arched, your body pushing against his in a broken cry. 

He smiles when you lie back down, your head limp against the leather seat. Gojo wipes the sweat from your forehead, pressing a soft kiss on your temple. He wraps you in his shirt, buttoning it up. 

Once you’ve gathered your breath, you turn to him. “You didn’t—you didn’t cum?” 

He shakes his head. Still smiling though. 

You push yourself up. The look in your eyes is one he wishes he could commission into a painting. “Then why did you stop?” 

He nods towards the phone you’ve recklessly abandoned in the driver’s seat. Its screen lit up with an unknown number. 

“Truck’s here.” 

A string of curse words leaves your mouth as you scramble to sit up and find the rest of your clothes. You will wear them even if they’re soaked in rain. But they’re gone. 

You specifically recall Gojo throwing them all onto the passenger’s seat earlier. “Where are my—”

“Here you go. I made them all dry for you.” 

You take your clothes from his hand. Just like he said, they’re all dry. That’s impossible, they were just soaked. 

You look back at Gojo who’s fully dressed and getting out of the car. The Veil stops him from getting soaked in the rain. 

This bastard could have dried your clothes in a blink and he chose not to. 

He’s fucking lucky you love him. 

[sumsebien]

should we just keep driving? ; gojo satoru

masterlist (my new blog)

summary: you run into problems on your road trip and gojo has plans to make you forget all of them

pairing: gojo x fem!reader

warnings: language, nsfw content (fingering, semi-public sex, unprotected sex)

word count: 2.9k

a/n: unhinged behavior is me writing this while listening to a nanami playlist. who do i love more? i shall never know

Gojo doesn’t drive.

You’ve long accepted the fact that the day Gojo Satoru takes the wheels the ground beneath will crumble like stale cookies. Still, that doesn’t mean you’re not bothered having to be driving him around all the time. 

Usually, Ijichi has the pleasure of escorting and chasing after Gojo around town. But on off-duty days, such as this one, it’s your job. 

It’s not that you didn’t want to go to Disneyland. If anything, you wanted it just as much as the silly blonde you call your boyfriend. Maybe that’s precisely why you shook off the thick, gray clouds clumping together in the sky. 

It’s only a thirty minute drive in ideal conditions. You’ll beat the rain.

But then again, when has driving with Gojo ever been ideal?

When you’re supposed to be out the door, he’s in the kitchen, giving onigiris some Mickey ears. When you’re supposed to be half way through with your trip, he’s somewhere in the closet, conducting something that can be considered an excavation to find the exact pair of sunglasses he wanted. Three space mountain rides later, Gojo’s yellow-tinted sunglasses are finally resting on the bridge of his nose. 

You’re so behind on schedule that you just shove him into the passenger seat and hurry yourself in, completely missing the odd whirring underneath the hood. The sound is lost in the humming of tires on the road, hurried footsteps crossing the sidewalks and muffled music bleeding through department store windows. But it cannot be more recognizable in the tranquil outskirts of the city. 

You want to believe you’re hallucinating, that maybe it’s the sky or the car next to you. So you turn to the man next to you. 

“Hey, do you hear that?”

Gojo perks up, pushing his lollipop aside to answer you. “Hear what?” 

Huh, maybe you were hallucinating after all. 

“Nevermind.” Wait. Did you see that right? You take another glance. Your eyes don’t lie. The lollipop you’ve been saving for occasions like this is now in his mouth. “Hey! Is that mine?” 

Before Gojo can answer, the engine sputters. The little symbol that you dread lights up — Check engine. With what's left of its energy, you manage to steer the car into the emergency lane. You pull the handbrake and get out of the car, leaving Gojo behind. 

His curious gaze follows you as you’re standing in front of the car with your hands anchored on your hips. A heavy sigh leaves your lips and you shake your head. 

In the car, Gojo waves his lollipop, gesturing for you to come over. You return to the driver’s side. He leans over your seat, easily reaching the button with his long arm. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks once your face comes clearly into view. 

“The car gave up. I’ll just pop the hood and check it out.” 

Gojo opens the door for you. You hold it and bend down to find the rectangular lever that will release the hood. Just as your fingers close around it, you feel wetness on your back. You shiver as it slides down your spine. Water. Your brain doesn’t fully register what it is until the sky rumbles and shakes the earth. Sheets of rain sweep across the ground, covering a good amount of you before you could scramble back into your seat. 

The leftover air from the AC turns your clothes into ice against your skin. You’re not going to get your long-awaited vacation and you’re also going to get sick. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, closing your eyes and taking a shaky breath. 

“Fuck, indeed.”

Your eyes open, regaining their focus slowly. Dangling in front of your face is the tan button-up that Gojo was wearing. He’s now only in a white t-shirt, a big smile on his face. Of course he would jump at the chance of taking his clothes off. 

“Wear this. You can dry your clothes in the back seat.” 

You don’t give it another thought, taking his shirt and twirling a finger in the air. “Turn around.” 

“But babe…”

You shake your head. “I’m still annoyed at you. Turn around.” 

He mumbles something underneath his breath but he obeys, crossing his arms in front of his chest. 

The moment your fingers hook onto the seam of your shirt, everything turns dark. Outside the windows, you see ink bleeding down thin air into a thick dome surrounding the car. You grin. He’s put on a Veil just so you can change out of your clothes.

“If I don’t get to look, no one else does,” he says. You can practically hear the pout on his lips. 

You peel your shirt and shorts off quickly and replace them with his shirt. It’s already oversized on him so on you, it’s a dress. 

“Are you done-” You lean over and give him a peck on the cheek before he’s able to finish his question. 

“Thanks.” Your lips brush the shell of his ear. “That was very considerate of you.”

Gojo is very cool and calm but after that, he can’t help but blush. He masks it with a quick laugh as the veil melts away outside. “No big deal, really,” he says. But you would recognize that subtle rosy shade on the apples of his cheeks anywhere.

Quite adorable, if you have to admit. 

You return to your seat, picking up your phone to look for your mechanic’s number. “Do you think you could power this car with cursed energy?” you muse. “We’d get there in like 5 minutes.”

“Ah, I wish. You would have to take me everywhere you go.” 

“Ha! I’d rather take the bus.”

He’s pouting again but this time, he’s looking straight at you. You seem to have no problem being cruel to him today. Making him turn away, telling him you’d rather take the bus with a bunch of strangers rather than spend time with him. Everything came so naturally. 

And just why might that be? 

If Gojo were to really analyze the situation, he supposes he’s been a little too easy with you lately. 

Well, then, it’s high time for some revenge. 

“Aha! Bingo!” You hit dial, putting the phone up to your ear. “Don’t worry. We’ll be rescued in no time.” 

He’s back to focusing on his strawberry lollipop. “I never said I was worried.” When you’re looking, he takes a particularly long and slow lick. He closes his lips around the candy and then, he pulls it out with a wet pop. 

Gojo knows his plan has succeeded when your eyes refuse to look away. Not even for a second. You’re chewing on your lips, too. There really is no other way. 

With a mischievous grin splattered across his face, he bends over your body. You’re clueless as to what he’s trying to do until you feel your seat sliding all the way back. One hand holds onto your seat and acts as an anchor for Gojo to swing himself over. 

He’s kneeling on the floor, looking up into your eyes with his impossibly blue ones. You look at the lollipop’s hanging between two of his fingers. And back into his eyes. “What are you about to do?”

“I’m going to kiss you, of course,” he admits blatantly, tucking the lollipop behind your ear. 

Gojo takes your cheeks into his hands and your mouth into his. He tastes refreshingly tangy, like a field of strawberries in early summer. But his lips are much sweeter than the lollipop he was sucking on. Your free hand finds his platinum hair easily, the strands silky and soft as you tug him away. 

Gojo sits back on his heels. “Hm, what’s the matter, princess?” 

You ignore the fuzzy feeling in the pit of your stomach. ‘Princess’ always does something to you. And this bastard knows it. “We’re in the middle of the road!” 

“When has that ever stopped us before?” 

You give him a flat look. “I was only changing and you were pulling the Veil out. Now you’re telling me—”

“Hello, how may I help you?” 

Your eyes go wide. In the panic, your thumb hovers over the red button with full intentions to hang up. It’s going to take a long time for the tow truck to get here. Not to mention the lightning slicing the sky in half and the merciless rain beating down anything in its path. 

You’ll deal with Gojo and then, this car.

You nod to yourself about your bulletproof plan. But the bullet you didn’t anticipate is sitting right in front of you, smirking like he knows exactly what you’re going to do.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to hang up, baby.” he coos. “Now, where’s the fun in that? Answer it.” 

“Hello? Is anyone there?” 

Gojo raises his brow, daring you not to answer. You sigh. The things you would do for this man. 

You clear your voice and proceed to stare out the window at the side of the mountain. “Oh, hi!” You ignore the gentle circles he has begun to rub on your hips. But you can’t ignore the warm wet kiss pressed against your neck. 

“Go on,” he commands, hands tightening round your thighs.

“My car just broke down in the middle of the road—” You let out a gasp as his hand travels up your body and is now unclasping your bra. When did he unbutton the shirt? 

Clearly, Gojo understands the confusion in your eyes. In response, he winks, throwing your clothes onto the passenger’s seat. 

“Are you okay, ma’am?” 

You bite down on your lip, trying hard to suppress a moan as his large hands find your breast, squeezing and kneading relentlessly. It only gets tougher to be quiet when the ministrations of his lips start. “Yes, I am. Ah –” He rolls your skin into his mouth, sucking on it and then, sinks his teeth in. “Sorry. Uh — How fast can you get here with your truck?”

“It’s really difficult to get anyone out in this weather, I’m afraid. Would you be able to wait?” 

A finger ghosts over your folds, rubbing gently, but with enough pressure to make your head go dizzy. 

You lean into his touch, desperate for some real friction. That silent request seems to line up perfectly with what he’s about to do anyways. He has no issue lending you his finger. Though, he’s taking his damn sweet time, pushing and pulling at the pace of a snail. 

You rest your temple against the cold glass windows for some relief, having forgotten completely about the mechanic’s question and the mechanic being right on the other line.

Lucky for you, before you could give anything away, the person on the other line speaks up, “Ma’am?” 

“Yeah!” you say loudly, compensating for the previous silence. “I’m willing to wait. That’s fine.”

But you win some and you lose some. 

His eyes look emerald through the yellow glasses. It brings out the ambitious, determined, unrelenting side of him. The side that has no problem saying, “You’d be willing to wait, huh? Wait, then.” 

Everything stops. Snail’s pace or not, at least you had something. Now, you’re left sprawled out, pathetically slick and wanting. You know you walked yourself right into that one. Still, that doesn’t change the fact that it’s humiliating, enraging and unnecessarily evil. 

“Give me a second,” you say to your phone and press mute, no longer bothered to wait for confirmation. “Gojo Satoru! I’m going to fucking murder you!” 

He shakes his head, clicking his tongue. “Threats are not going to get you anywhere, baby girl. Begs, on the other hand?” He grins. “That’s my weakness.”

You roll your eyes. If only he wasn’t so damn good with his hands. You close your eyes and when they reopen again, you make sure you give him the best puppy eyes you’ve got. “Please, please, I want you. I just want you alone. I don’t want to be quiet anymore.”

“Ah, well,” he throws his head back in a careless, airy laugh. “Who could say no to that? Finish your call and get in the back.” 

You have never been so impatient to get off of a call before. You mumbled a brief description of your address and then you were jumping at the chance of bidding goodbyes. They were in the middle of instructing you on something but you couldn’t, for the life of you, focus on that right now. The grip you had on your phone was so tight, you were scared it would snap in two when you finally let go. 

In the backseat, Gojo has finished the lollipop. You didn’t even notice when he took it back. He’s in the middle of taking off his shirt when he catches you looking. Backlit by the purple lightning stabbing the sky and dragging its sharp blade across, he looks menacing and ethereal at the same time. 

Now, you’re not exactly an expert on how that could be. You just know you can’t waste any more time.

“You better make this worth it,” you say before joining him in the back.

He wraps his hands around your waist. “Oh, when have I ever left you unsatisfied?” Gojo kisses you, pushing the shirt off your shoulders so that you’re completely undressed. 

His nose brushes your collar bone for a split second as his lips caress your chest. “You smell like me. What a lucky bastard I am.” 

That’s pride you hear. 

You lay back into the seat, head prompted against the door. Gojo returns to your lips, tongue delving into your mouth. You hear his belt unbuckling and then falls to the ground with a click. All the while, his lips never left yours. 

“Satoru,” you moan out when he lowers his tip into you. Just the tip and you feel like you could come undone already. 

He laughs. “Satoru, now. Is it?” With that, he pushes you down a little farther, a little farther until there’s absolutely no space between your bodies. “That was very quick, baby. You must be enjoying yourself.” Gojo grabs onto your ass when there’s no response. “Are you?” 

“Y–Yeah,” you pant, pushing your forehead into the crook of his neck. 

“Want me to go a little faster?” 

You nod immediately, eyes squeezed shut and hands gripping around his biceps in anticipation. 

“Your request is my command.” 

Gojo is the type of man to take that to heart. He pushes himself up with the palms of his hand and then drops back down. This time you feel his dick much deeper than before, hitting all the spots, ticking all your boxes. 

After all, he’s got every inch of you memorized. 

“My baby is taking me so well,” he says between groans. “Feel so good around me. How am I to go anywhere without you?” 

You’re clawing at his back, pulling him closer to you by the hair. Motivates him even more to be ruthless with his thrusts. 

“You’re not supposed to, remember?” You muster all the remaining strength you’ve got to not stutter. 

Gojo agrees whole-heartedly. “That’s right, darling. That’s it. You’ve got it.” 

His thumb circles your sensitive nub, pushing you a little closer towards the edge of the precipice. It won’t take much more to have you crumble. 

Same goes for Gojo. You’re clenching so deliciously around him, making every little movement difficult. 

But if there’s one thing you should know about him is that once his mind is made, there’s nothing that can change it. And he’s set on making you cum first. 

“You’ve been a good girl,” he says. “Driving me everywhere, waiting for me so patiently, playing my games.” You whine when he throws your legs over his muscular shoulders. “Let me indulge you.” 

He leans close to your ear, stopping his pace for a blink so he could whisper, “Let it all go for me, won’t you?” 

You heave a long breath before letting all inhibitions evaporate into thin air. Couple more thrusts and your back’s arched, your body pushing against his in a broken cry. 

He smiles when you lie back down, your head limp against the leather seat. Gojo wipes the sweat from your forehead, pressing a soft kiss on your temple. He wraps you in his shirt, buttoning it up. 

Once you’ve gathered your breath, you turn to him. “You didn’t—you didn’t cum?” 

He shakes his head. Still smiling though. 

You push yourself up. The look in your eyes is one he wishes he could commission into a painting. “Then why did you stop?” 

He nods towards the phone you’ve recklessly abandoned in the driver’s seat. Its screen lit up with an unknown number. 

“Truck’s here.” 

A string of curse words leaves your mouth as you scramble to sit up and find the rest of your clothes. You will wear them even if they’re soaked in rain. But they’re gone. 

You specifically recall Gojo throwing them all onto the passenger’s seat earlier. “Where are my—”

“Here you go. I made them all dry for you.” 

You take your clothes from his hand. Just like he said, they’re all dry. That’s impossible, they were just soaked. 

You look back at Gojo who’s fully dressed and getting out of the car. The Veil stops him from getting soaked in the rain. 

This bastard could have dried your clothes in a blink and he chose not to. 

He’s fucking lucky you love him. 

[writeworld-blog]

In the Beginning

How do you write a great first line?

People agonize over their first sentence, and we’re about to beg you not to. At least, not until you’ve finished the entire piece. After all, how can you be sure what the story is about until you’ve written it in its entirety?

Anyway, a great first line is completely subjective, and the standards for a great first line will vary from genre to genre, and for fiction and nonfiction. A few rules of thumb (that are constantly and effectively broken):

Don’t start with dialogue.

Don’t start with the weather.

Introduce your main character within the first few sentences.

Don’t start with a complicated metaphor.

Don’t start by insulting the reader (e.g., their intelligence, their choice of reading, their personal hygiene).

Give the main character a goal/something he or she wants straight away.

Don’t start with onomatopoeia.

Don’t start with an enormous first sentence.

Begin with some kind of action.

If you’re writing fiction, don’t start with a question.

Yes, if you’re an established writer, you can definitely get away with ignoring these rules, but if you’re just starting out, it may be best to steer clear of these sorts of beginnings.

Instead, try thinking of your first sentence like this:

The object of your first sentence is not to entice your audience into reading the entire book. The object is to make them want to read the next sentence, just as it’s the job of the second sentence to make them want to read the third, and so on.

Think of the sentences that make up your story as train cars, connected to each other, racing forward on the track of your plot. The audience watching this train pass will see each sentence as part of a whole, moving in one direction, with every sentence pulling the sentences after it and clamped tightly to the ones before.

The first sentence is the steam engine and it’s pretty important, but in reality, it’s only special because its the first. There’s no point in it moving at all unless the cars after it have cargo worth carrying, and there’s no point to the entire train if the track leads nowhere. Each component of a train is important, just like each sentence of your story, each character, each plot, each setting is important.

We think the easiest way to experiment with first lines is to do some research. Pull a few books off of your bookshelf and read the first few lines. Make a note of what you like and don’t like. We’ve begun a new segment called First Lines to help you out.

Things we think are important to remember for the first few sentences of your story:

Get the reader to start asking questions. Don’t give all your information at once; rather, make you audience read on to have their questions answered. Just don’t make them wait too long for every answer or they may lose interest.

We agree that characters must have goals. If you introduce a character in your first few lines, they need to want something or the reader won’t care.

Make your reader feel like they are entering a story in-progress. That is to say, they are aware from the first few lines that the story has a definite, believable past, and they’re coming in right as the most interesting part of this ongoing story is beginning.

We agree with beginning with action is likely best. Exposition can weigh down the story’s start. Move the reader by writing movement.

Be mindful of the second sentence. The first sentence should lead into the next, or else fill the reader with so many questions that they have to read on to get their answers (see above).

If you’re doing these things, or at least making an effort to do them, you’ll have a strong first line, guaranteed.

Further reading on beginning a story:

How to write a book – the short honest truth

Starting Your Book

How to Start a Novel 

100 best first lines from novels

The First Sentence of a Book Report

How To Write A Killer First Sentence To Open Your Book

How to Write the First Sentence of a Book

The Most Important Sentence: How to Write a Killer Opening

Hook Your Reader from the First Sentence: How to Write Great Beginnings

[smol-ackerman]

LOID FORGER 🧡

SPY X FAMILY Ep. 08: The Counter-Secret Police Cover Operation