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Kusuriya no Hitorigoto | Ep48 | Sometimes I really want to. Let’s pick up where we left off at the stronghold. Do you have poison in you, too?

Bonus: Why do I always get interrupted?

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Daniel "Oz" Osbourne + Outfits (Season 2)

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buffy the vampire slayer ⇾ 1.08

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can't wait to see more of these two in the anime...

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Tw: yandere, Oral (f! Receiving), masturbation (m!), virginity loss (gojo), stalking, dubcon, drinking, violence, unedited, use of mommy mdni.

Yan! Gojo x Reader: Puppy Love

Based on all the new jjk stuff, it got me thinking that Gojo probably never had the chance for those first dating experiences...

Which means Gojo would be absolutely pathetic with his very first girl. His whole life had been Jujutsu Tech, missions, and pressure. No real time for flings or learning how to be someone’s boyfriend. So, when dating apps finally become a thing? He gets attached. Fast. Especially after Suguru left, nobody kept the man in check.

You match with him on a whim, he's cute. Awkward photos. A bit annoying in the chat, spams a lot, and asks about your day a little too often. Even more eager in person, but somehow more attracter. Taller than you'd expect, messy white hair and those bright baby blue eyes that get a little hazy every time you laugh, his hand keeps reaching for yours and you keep pulling away. He's someone fun, someone easy enough to fuck and forget about.

He bought all your drinks the whole night, dragging you back to his place, a bit more tipsy than you'd expect for a guy like him and listen in your defense, you didn't think he was a virgin. The second you get inside his luxurious apartment, he’s practically panting.

You push him onto the leather sectional and climb on top of him, straddling his waist and tugging off his shirt. His abs are rather attractive, pale enough to leave a trail of hickies that'll match the cherry blossoms outside. Hell, they match how red his face is. But the second you start kissing down his neck, he whines - a needy, high-pitched sound that makes you pause.

“Christ,” you mutter. “You’re really touch-starved, huh?”

He doesn’t even deny it. Just grips your waist tighter, nodding like a good boy. Baby blue eyes wide and pleading.

“Didn’t take you for a puppy,” you tease, grinding down on the thick length that had you guessing just how big he is, a smile curling on your lips as you watch his eyes roll back.

And he says, "I'm not - ” right before he moans through his teeth , hands gripping to the couch, unsure what to do with them.

You smirk. “Sure you're not.”

By the time your panties are off, he’s saying he loves you. Repeatedly. Whispering it into your mouth like it’ll make you cum harder.

You don’t say it back. Trying to ignore them. Because each time he says the phrase you get a bit dryer.

Though he makes it up for it when he settles between your thighs, lips glossy with your juices, tongue slurping up your juices. Satoru eats you out like he's winning the lottery. Sloppy. Loud. Moaning into your puffy cunt with those pretty, desperate eyes staring up like you hung the stars. You take a photo of his flushed face, the way his eyes gloss over in a haze, because why not? He asks you to. Actually says, “Want you to remember me like this.”

You hum, pulling his hair. “Pathetic.”

Bucking your hips into his face as his slender fingers, run up and down your slit before two dive into your gushy walls to stir your honey pot. Groaning as he hears the lewd squelch, gasping at how your pressing his face right in. Nose bumping against your clit before you're gushing straighting into his mouth moments later.

However everything goes down the drain when you finally let him fuck you. And he lasts maybe ten seconds.

One thrust, and he’s gasping, panicking, already apologizing.

“Oh my god,” you groan, flopping back against the couch. “Seriously?”

“I-I’m sorry,” he chokes out, red-faced, blinking tears. “You just - felt so good, I - ”

“Yeah, yeah,” you mutter, standing and grabbing your clothes. “You’ll do better next time, blah blah. Heard it before.”

He grabs your wrist like you might stay. “Please don’t go. Please - I’ll make breakfast! I’ll rub your feet - I’ll do anything.”

You roll your eyes. “Fuck. Calm down. We're not even serious.”

You thought you heard his heart break, the way his eyes dimmed when you said that. Slamming the door shut behind you, but not before tossing a look over your shoulder and saying, "Later, puppy"

He texts you for days, apologizing, sending you gift cards. You don't text back or use the gift cards and money transfers. You're not that much of a bitch.

Sure he was good downstairs, made you cum twice on his tongue, though the little cries he would make when you stroke his leaking cock were a bit much. At least you can remember him by the photos in your camera roll.

Also, you’ve got better things to do than babysit some delusional man-child who thinks good head equals marriage vows.

Except… every new guy you date? Canceled. Ghosted. One shows up with a black eye and a nose bleed, saying he got in a car accident. You don’t believe him. Because it looks like his head got rammed into the wall a few times.

Odd. You delete your dating apps for now. Something is telling you too. You start locking your doors. Double-checking the windows. Sleeping with a bat under the bed. You even lock your bedroom door.

And somehow, that still doesn't ease the anxiety.

You wake up one night to something hot and wet smearing across your cheek.

At first, you think it’s a nightmare. Some paralysis demon that you've had wet dreams about. The weight above you. The slow, sticky drag of something obscene on your skin. But then you open your eyes.

And there he is.

Satoru.

Standing over you with one hand wrapped tight around his cock, the other stroking your hair. His eyes are glassy, his smile dreamy.

“Open wide,” he whispers, breathless. “Your puppy’s been saving up for you. Haven't jerked off once since I last saw you.”

You don’t scream - your body freezes instead. Mind scrambling, heart pounding. You can’t move fast enough before he finishes with a broken moan, spilling warm white across your face like he’s giving you a gift. Smearing the cum a bit more with the tip of his cock. He pants softly in the dark, blinking down at you with awe.

“Sorry, mommy,” he says, voice thick with a sob he doesn’t let out. “I’ve been so bad.”

You flinch when he leans in - expecting a kiss, maybe a lick - but all he does is inhale. Deep. Right at your cheekbone.

“I missed you,” he breathes into your neck. Grinning wildly. Blissed out. “Your puppy’s home now.”

You stare at him. Chest heaving. Face wet. Too terrified to even scream. And behind him, through the crack of the now-open bedroom door, you see the locks on the front door swinging gently.

"We're going to make up for lost time, yeah?" Satoru whispers as he nuzzles closer, pressing faint kisses to your neck, hands already traveling to your panties. "Have to make up for that embarrassing stunt from last time" <3

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LOOK

AT

THEM

MY GORGEOUS MAIKO OMG

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Your Name. (2016)

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suguru is desperate, tonight.

in hindsight, you probably should have noticed all the ways he tried to clue you in on it. a touch that lingers longer than usual, warm palms resting at your hips instead of the small of your back— the cologne he only wears when he wants to get you hungry. he's too polite to say it outright, too contained to ask, but it's always obvious when you think back. his lips at the column of your throat this morning, the slightest whine to his voice before he got up. when you kissed him goodbye, still tasting bitter off the coffee he made you: a flickering, candle-lit heat to his gaze. 

tiny, tiny hints. that's his style. building up, and up.

crashing, the minute you stepped through the front door.

you could feel the tension in the air, in his body, the all-consuming desire in the low-curved smile on his lips— and of course you weren't unaffected by it. of course you were carried along, by the waves of his devotion when he kissed you welcome home.

of course you were.

what else is there to do, when you have a beautiful boy in the palm of your hand?

(nipping at your fingers, in search of scraps. breathing oxygen into your lungs.)

"baby…"

a voice like caramel, clouding your ears. your brain is mush, so stuffed with cotton you barely hear it, too distracted by the wet, warm muscle of his tongue — the warmth of his body, his hands, careful not to crush you as he keeps you pushed against the couch. groaning, into your mouth.

needy. 

such a rare treat, for him to let you see it.

a weak, breathy whimper bubbles up your throat, spills into his own, his tongue gliding against yours and ghosting at the back of your teeth. he tastes like mint. it's a chain reaction, the moan that follows — your meek response only fuelling the depth of what he must be feeling. the closeness he's craving. even though you're already chest to chest, heartbeat kissing heartbeat, beating in rapid, thumping tune.

with the way he keeps trying to pull you closer, you'd think he wants you to slip between his ribs.

"god, i love you so much. god…"

suguru's voice is silicone, honeyed tongues and teeth, but now the rasp at the throat of it is all you can hear. your senses are overwhelmed, wrapped up in notes of amber, cradled by his scent — his warmth flowing into your body and keeping all coherent thoughts away from your brain. no thinking, only him. your big, gentle boyfriend, kissing you with enough reverence to pluck pearls from the bottom of a seabed. keeping his knee in between your thighs, his big palm at the back of your neck, to make sure you can't run from the love he's giving you.

(not that you'd ever want to.)

love you, you try to say, ultimately sputtering on something like a mewl. suguru only pulls away to whisper praise against your lips, then he's back to waltzing with your tongue. he isn't fast — isn't rough — only intense, in the gentlest of ways. mellow waters lapping at the skin of your ankles, dragging you into the sea. you're being coaxed underwater, having trouble keeping up with the slow, deep rhythm he's set, his tongue in no rush to explore your mouth. you're having trouble remembering the first letter of your name.

your response only makes him hold you closer. there's no space between your bodies, nowhere further for you to go, but he's desperate enough that he's trying, pulling you up into his lap and wrapping both his beefy arms around your waist. mwah, mwah, two sloppy pecks against your spit-swollen lips, before he pries them open again.

you feel a little like you're dying. like you already died, and went to heaven.

suguru must have wanted this, all day. must have been waiting. it must have been a struggle just to help you get your shoes off, to close the door behind you before swallowing you whole. squeezing your body, like a fidget toy — though the way he handles you couldn't be farther from it. he just wants to feel you. to feel your flesh, and bones, and heartbeat, your tongue down his throat.

your boyfriend wants you to eat him alive.

(before he does the same to you.)

big, warm palms settle at your ass, and you know he's hanging on by a thread because he actually squeezes down, gently, feels the fat fill the gaps between his fingers and robs more air from your lungs before giving it back — heavy, bated breaths shared between the two of you. a gasp pushes past your lips, and he drinks it down. like freshwater, like cherry-red wine, lapping up the last drops at the bottom of the glass. a man intoxicated. drunk on you, his fingers sneaking under the fabric of your shirt to feel your blood beat and rush under his palms. ba-dump, ba-dump. he feels, listens, rubs circles into your hip. you hold onto his shoulders, dig your nails into the fabric of his skin-tight sweater, feeling so doused in heat you fear your nerves will catch on fire. heat at your neck, at your cheeks, in between your thighs. he licks into your mouth, flames at your teeth.

as a child, your mother told you the sun was a lion playing catch with the stars. 

(you used to wonder what it would feel like to be eaten by it.)

it's dizzying. suguru's kisses are always intense — he's always intense — but it's not often you see him this visibly bothered. he keeps tugging you closer, closer still, little rocks against you, like he can't stomach the thought of you being anywhere else. his rhythm is getting sloppy, and your breaths are getting more sparse, bodies melting together like gum on a hot, scorching sidewalk in the precipice of summer—

chew, and spit. you can't think of anything else. nibbling at his bottom lip, just to stay afloat.

fortunately, suguru knows your body. 

a deep, steadying breath. he manages to pull away, his fingers shaky, deft thumbs rubbing circles into the skin of your thighs.

"s-suguru."

"sorry,” he exhales. his lips are swollen, slick and puffy, eyes so lidded you wonder if he's really there. if he actually got drunk on your spit. they're hazy, so dark you feel that you're staring into a deep, deep sea, sinking helplessly towards the bottom. "i don't think… i can control myself, right now."

(you aren't doing much better. droopy-eyed, lips thoroughly abused, drool seeping out from the corner of your mouth — his or yours, you couldn't say. a swipe of your tongue, and it's gone.

suguru inhales, shakily.)

too tired to speak, you lift your hands to cup his cheeks. they're rosy, cherry blossoms in the breeze, the fuzzy skin of sun-warmed peaches. hot, under your touch. when you smooth your fingertips against them his eyes flutter shut. 

a blissed out sigh flows from his parted lips.

"i think i'd die if i couldn't love you." the words are spoken with bated breath, as if he couldn't keep them lodged inside his throat, couldn't even try. when he opens his eyes again they shimmer like sheets of glass, leaves wet with morning dew. 

you don't think he's exaggerating.

"… c'mere," he sighs, running out of patience. "you're too far."

this time, he's more careful. beginning to feel sated, maybe.

one palm on the back of your head, the other on the small of your back. heavy, radiating heat, pouring from the tips of his fingers through the fabric of your shirt, your thighs wrapping themselves around his waist to offer him the same. arms around his neck. he hums into your mouth, appreciative. his tongue glides against the seam of your lips, until you part them for him; letting him kiss you how he likes.

slow, and steady. breathing you in, and out.

(like this, you feel less like two people and more like one construct. a mechanism. inhale, exhale, your chests rising and falling, the way dandelion seeds float up into the sky, the way pebbles sink and sink until they hit the bottom of the sea. 

you think you understand him, a little more than usual. you think you'd drop dead, too, if someone were to pry your limbs apart.)

"i love you," you say, rasping against his lips. 

ba-dump, ba-dump. his heartbeat says it back, before he gets a chance to. 

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tender was suguru, whenever you cried.

tears spilled easily for you. you couldn’t help it. crybaby children tended to become sensitive adults; neglected from the guidance that was supposed to strengthen them. you turned out the way that you did because the hurt repeated itself. again and again. it was a relentless cycle, but then you met him.

suguru, who took you into the cult and welcomed you into the arms of the found family—understood it all perfectly well. and while he disapproved of weakness in those he cared about, he had come to appreciate you just the way you were. and over time, he learned to be your rock. your shoulder to cry on. his robes would dampen with stamped tears and his arms would ache from holding you so tight. but, it wasn’t like he minded. you were among the few things that made sense in his most recent years.

he even found himself not wanting to let you slip away.

addicted to the feeling of being wanted—of being important—of being someone you could rely on.

though, you did surprise him after he confessed his feelings. he largely just wasn’t expecting you to cry in that moment. tears of joy, but tears nonetheless. a confusing sight, if he was honest. but all he could do was hope that it would stay that way, because as binding as those precious shared moments were, he never wanted you to be upset again.

you were far too important for that.

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夏 side ..and only]

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BEAUTY AND THE BEAST (1991)

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ღ Jealous!Suguru who at first seems nonchalant about the fact that another man was flirting with you. It doesn’t seem to bother him, but truth be told, his ego’s hurt.

ღ Jealous!Suguru who, as soon as you get home, has his hands all over you and kisses you like he has to convince you no one would make a better lover than he, bumping against furniture trying to make his way to the bedroom.

ღ Jealous!Suguru has you unclothed and pushed on the bed in no time. He has to have you now. Not just to prove to you that he’s the better option, but also to prove to himself that there is no other for you. But, he likes to tease you for as long as possible until neither of you can stand it any longer.

ღ Jealous!Suguru’s thrusts are merciless, deep and fast, having you scream his name in no time. He usually likes to have you in missionary, where he can see all your facial expressions. But when his jealousy takes over, he wants you face down, ass up. He likes to push your face further down into the mattress, muffling your pathetic moans, while his other arm holds your hips in place.

ღ Jealous!Suguru’s aftercare is top tier though. He worships your body, kissing every spot that makes you melt into the mattress, whispering praises against your skin. He makes sure you’re cleaned up, and asks if he wasn’t too rough. Maybe he was, but you secretly like it like that.

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a/n: this is not proofread whoops

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him walking into the bedroom to catch you masturbating—you, with headphones in, listening to a spicy audio. he stands in the doorway with narrowed eyes, yet almost a receptive gaze—like he’s learning. and he’s got that smirk on his face, waiting for you to see him after you’re finished with your cute little bullet vibrator. whether that be creaming all over the little toy or you screaming in frustration when you can’t quite get there.

but oh, when he hears you moan out his name in that saccharine voice of yours, his pants suddenly feel so fucking tight. and seeing the mixture of shock and slightly excitement in your eyes when you finally see him? oh, he’s even harder now.

so he disconnects your headphones and tells you to start it back at the beginning where he can hear it too. when you hesitate, he presses rewind for you while holding your gaze.

once it plays, he acts to the man’s words and sounds, the lewd and absolutely sinful smacks of his lips against your pussy and calloused thumb rubbing on your poor puffy clit making you cum embarrassingly quick on his tongue.

but that’s just the first five minutes—he wants to go through the entire video.

hq ⟡ KYOUTANI KENTARO, yaku morisuke, MIYA ATSUMU, iwaizumi hajime, SUNA RINTAROU, sugawara koushi, MIYA OSAMU, your fave.

jjk ⟡ NANAMI KENTO, geto suguru, SUKUNA RYOMEN, gojo satoru, TOJI FUSHIGURO, your fave.

aot ⟡ JEAN KIRSTEIN, eren jaeger, ZEKE JAEGER, connie springer, PORCO GALLIARD, your fave.

masterlist.

ik these munches love to eat 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

mdni. do not copy, alter, or repost my work. ©oxytxn 2025.

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