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"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

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@sweetsylus
lenny!!!! Ù©(>áŽ<)Ù || twenty-three || they/she/he || proudly black <3 || infp-t!
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Hair down kr
holy hell is my feed covered in choso content
happy (late) new year's guys :3 to anyone concerned, life is going quite well for me. i should really come back to this blog...
happy fall guys :>
heeeyyyyâŠ
it's been a bit since i showed my face...oops :]
if i was a mermaid i would splash my faves with my tail or smack them with it all the time i think
pirate!satoru who has a bad habit of picking up shiny things and an even worse habit of teasing the sweet mermaid he meets every sunset.
he first saw you while chasing a storm. his crew had warned him of cursed waters ahead, thick with fog and stories about drowned men who never sank. sea birds had stopped circling, and even the wind seemed to hesitateâbut satoru liked cursed things. they were usually interesting. and interesting things always led to fun.
what was more fun than a girl in the sea, glowering at his ship like it had insulted the ocean herself?
he remembers that day like salt on skin. ropes whipping in the wind, the creak of the shipâs old bones groaning beneath his boots. gulls screeched overhead, barely heard over the crack of thunder. and thenâyour eyes, breaking the water like two shards of moonlight, locked onto his with that same look of unimpressed calm, as if youâd already judged him and found him deeply, deeply annoying.
you were tangled in another crewâs net, fins thrashing, hands cut red from rope. he didnât free you out of chivalryâno, he wasnât that sort. he just hated the other pirates. loudmouthed, greedy, and smug, like they were owed the seaâs bounty. they caged you like a prize pearl in a box. and that pissed him off.
âi owe you a favor,â youâd said afterward, voice soft like seafoam clinging to a quiet shore.
âyou can owe me your company,â heâd replied, tipping his hat like a man far too confident for his own good.
turns out, getting under your skin was impossible. your metaphorical skin mightâve been made of coral and old secrets. he teased. you smiled. he flirted. you tilted your head in confusion. he poked. you thanked him.
like now.
If I had a tail I'd wrap it around yours when we sit together. If u even care
save a cow ride a boy or what um save a uh ride a horse no its save a uhh guys who we saving
Had a dream of him last night now I got the biggest crush on him đâ
catoru gojo proof
- I can hear you. Donât worry. Iâm right here.Â
sleeping with satoru gojo is impossible.
you're not referring to cuddling or whatnot, but rather actually sleeping with him. trying to catch some z's with satoru by your side.
you just can't do it.
since he's so tall, he takes up most of the bed, as well as the covers. you'd go to sleep with a blanket wrapped around you and wake up with even the sheets gone from your side of the bed.
how did he manage to do that? you don't know, but either way, it was really annoyingâespecially during the winter.
you've made attempts to try and steal your blankets back, or at least get your sheets, but satoru would never budge. because of that, you'd be left to shiver the whole night.
and satoru would wake up with the audacity to ask you why you were shivering.
it's not just that, though. satoru also kicks in his sleepâwhich leads to you being kicked off the bed and getting hurt.
"baby, why are you on the floor?" satoru questioned as he looked down at you from the edge of the bed, and you stared up at him with a glare as your body remained entangled with the blankets that were wrapped around you before you had been kicked off of the bed. "shut the fuck up."
of course, he apologizes profusely in the morning once you gripe about the pain, and he tries to make it up to you by buying stuff.
he once bought a little divider in hopes that it would protect him from kicking you.
but he woke up to the sight of the divider completely demolished and his arm wrapped around you.
that's another thingâsatoru can be insanely clingy during the night.
it's always the nights when he's not stealing your covers or beating you up that he decides it's the perfect time to practically choke you by clinging on to you.
if he was hugging your side, it wouldn't be as bad, but this man will literally crawl on top of you in his sleep. you will be hot and it will be hard to breathe.
why don't you just shove him off? because one, it's extremely hard to do so, and two, once you do successfully manage to push him off, he'll just go right back to his spot.
oddly enough, that's not the worst of it.
he sleepwalks and sleep talks.
you'd wake up to him being gone from the bed, and when you get up to look for him, you'd usually find him in the same two places.
either the kitchen with the fridge wide open as he eats the treats he had been savingâto which he'd ask him the morning if you ate them with the saddest look on his face since he doesn't want to accept that he sleepwalksâor, you'd find him on the floor of the hallway for some reason.
now, the sleepwalking doesn't really bother you because it's never harmed anyone, but the sleeptalking definitely does.
it affects you physically, mentally, and spiritually.
does he say anything scary? not that you were aware of, but you would rather hear him say something scary than wake up to him singing my chemical romance again or fall for you.
what makes it even worse is that he sings it in the same tone that the artists do.
"because tonight will be the night that i will fall for you..." "toru." you whispered. "over again..." "satoru." you whispered once again, but your voice got sterner. "don't make me change my mindâ" his singing was cut off as you slapped your hand across his mouth, and his eyes shot open as he tiredly stared at you in confusion. words were muffled against your hand, but you didn't care to try and figure out what he was saying. "i don't care if megumi is going through a phase, tell him to stop playing my chemical romance around you." you couldn't see satoru's expression very well since it was dark, but you heard him muffle a 'yes ma'am' against your hand before you finally removed it from his mouth.
comments & reblogs are appreciated !!
RIDE
âĄ. choso letting you ride his fat cock, smut mdni, size difference, riding
âAre you sure?â he asks again, voice low, nervous, even as he lies back with his hands braced behind him, shirt half off and hair messy from how often heâs run his fingers through it tonight. âWe can stop. I mean it.â
You straddle him anywayânaked, breath shaky, thighs trembling around his waist. Your hands press against his chest like youâre trying to steady yourself. Or maybe stop yourself from sliding down onto whatâs⊠very clearly going to be a problem.
Because Chosoâs huge.
Like, really, actually terrifyingly big. Thick. Heavy. Flushed tip already smearing against your lower stomach just from how it sits.
You glance down between your bodies. Then back up at him. âHoly shit,â you breathe. âThatâs not⊠gonna fit.â
Choso groans, head falling back. âPlease donât say that,â he begs, voice wrecked. âIâm trying to be.. trying not to lose my control.â
You line yourself up anywayâslowly, carefully, shaking. He grips your waist. Not hard. Just enough to keep you steady. âEasy, baby,â he murmurs, breath fanning across your skin. âTake your time. Just the tip first.â
Just the tip burns. Splits you open in a way that steals the air from your lungs.
Choso moans. âFâfuck, youâre tight. You okay?â
You nodâbut tears prick your eyes. Your hands scramble for his shoulders, holding on like heâs the only thing keeping you grounded. âIâitâs so bigâŠâ
âI know, I know,â he pants, brushing a thumb along your hip. âYouâre doing so good. Youâre so good for me, sweetheart. Just go slow, yeah?â
You sink a little deeperâinch by inchâand his jaw locks. The stretch is unbearable. He feels like heâs in your stomach. You swear you can feel his heartbeat from inside.
âIâI canâtââ âYou can,â Choso says, firm now, eyes locked on you with a mix of worship and desperation. âYouâre taking me so well. You were made for this.â
He groans when your hips drop lower. Youâre not even all the way down yet. His hands are gripping the sheets now like if he moves heâll break you in half.
âFuck,â he breathes. âYou feel like heaven. Youâre gonna ruin me.â
You finally bottom outâand freeze. Both of you are shaking. Your legs feel weak. Youâre completely full. Stuffed to the brim.
Choso whimpers.
âYou okay?â he whispers, hands stroking your thighs, your waist, your backâtrying to soothe the ache. âDo you want me to move? Orââ
You roll your hips just a little, testing the friction, and Choso gasps.
âHolyâbaby, donât do that, Iâm gonna fucking comeââ
You do it again. And suddenly itâs too good to stop. The pain is still there, but itâs pulsing, rhythmic, drowned beneath the stretch and the friction and Chosoâs voice in your ear telling you youâre perfect, that youâre his, that no one will ever fuck you like this again.
âIâm never letting you go,â he pants, arms wrapping around you, holding you tight as you start to bounceâslowly, shakily, but desperate. âYou were made to ride me.â
You cry out his name, and Choso loses itâthrusting up hard just once, uncontrollably, and you both see stars.
TL: @samm1e13 @syleepy @werfiedeii @mikemsmm @yanderebluelockfan @cyberheartrebel @arwawawa2 @valexqpt @snowsilver2000 @mitsurisupporter @meikstv @ravenbc @mihyas-dieehefrau
A/N: i want him to impregnate me
êšïžAnglbunny | Do not copy, steal or translate my work and pngs. you'll be blocked.
[Masterlist]
synopsis à Ë. á”á” you talk about your husband like he is a dream and, frankly, your coworkers think that you are making him up. that is until your husband shows up.
you talked about your husband all the time.
nanami this nanami that
âoh, my husband makes the best lunchboxesâ
âhe stayed up to help me with my reportâ
âhe walks me to the station when i stay lateâ
you werenât annoying about it. not really. just a little too consistent. always saying things like âheâll pick me up after work today, weâre going to get pastries!â and showing off texts that made your coworkers tilt their heads and squint.
kento nanami sounded fake.
a little too nice. a little too attentive.
and when you tacked on the fact that he was hot â âblond, tall, glasses, kinda quiet but really handsome, you know?â â people at work started to think that maybe you were pulling everyoneâs leg.
just a little.
not out of malice â no, never that â but maybe you were lonely. maybe you just needed a sweet little fantasy to get you through the day. who could blame you?
because no way someone like nanami existed. not the way you described him. it just didnât sound real. not in this world. not in this economy.
but you never let up.
you beamed like a lovesick fool when your phone lit up with his name. you refused to make afterwork plans on fridays because that was âfriday pasta night with kento.â you sighed wistfully every time someone so much as mentioned a bakery and then whispered, âkento always remembers my favorite,â like you were in some fairytale.
you werenât smug about it either. it was just⊠relentless. like you were trying to manifest it into reality.
and maybe it wouldâve stayed harmless water cooler gossip â âhey, what do you think her husband actually looks like?â or âmaybe itâs just her roommate who makes all the food?â â if you hadnât mentioned that heâd be picking you up from work one day soon.
âheâs on leave,â youâd said, head bent over a spreadsheet, smiling to yourself. âwants to take me out for dinner. heâll be here early. maybe youâll see him.â
you said it innocently. with that dreamy lilt you always got when his name was on your tongue.
but that set off everyone.
bets were placed. theories floated. some said heâd never show. others swore theyâd catch you whispering to your reflection in the hallway like a crazy person. one guy from accounting said he saw you with a facetime open to a picture of a k-pop idol and he swore it was nanami. it was all harmless. mostly.
people just didnât believe it.
until the elevator doors slid open.
and nanami stepped out.
he wore a tan wool coat, fitted slacks, button-up half undone at the throat â all that fine-tuned, elegant masculinity that seemed sculpted into place. hair slicked back, wristwatch glinting, and an expression that was all quiet restraint, the kind that turned heads on instinct.
and his eyes â sharp, deep, familiar â scanned the room once, then softened the moment he saw you.
âyou ready, sweetheart?â he asked.
your coworkers went silent.
someone dropped their pen.
you lit up instantly. grinned, grabbed your bag, waved at everyone with a cheery, âsee you tomorrow!â like this wasnât the most monumental moment of vindication in the history of your office.
nanami took your coat from you before you even shrugged it off fully. guided you with a hand on the small of your back. leaned in and brushed a kiss to your temple so naturally that your coworker audibly gasped.
he glanced up then. noticed the sea of frozen faces.
âgood evening,â he said politely, like he didnât just obliterate the collective doubt of your entire floor with one gentle peck.
you left with him. smiling, chatting, looping your arm through his as he opened the door and held it for you.
and behind you â a stunned, stunned silence.
ââŠso,â someone whispered, finally. âthat was nanami?â
âthe nanami?â another croaked.
âthat manâs real?â
âshe wasnât even exaggerating,â came the hollow, awe-struck reply. âshe was under-selling him.â
and in the elevator, nanami turned to you and smiled, faint but amused. âyou were right,â he murmured, âthey really didnât believe i existed.â
you snorted and leaned into his side. âi told you. now theyâll think i made you in a lab.â
âi wouldnât be bothered by that,â he said, tugging you closer, kissing your knuckles as the doors closed. âyou did a perfect job, if so.â