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#The Marriage of True Minds
elisaenglish · 6 months
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From the Shadows of Evolution
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“Art is the activity that exalts and denies simultaneously. ‘No artist tolerates reality,’ says Nietzsche. That is true, but no artist can get along without reality. Artistic creation is a demand for unity and a rejection of the world. But it rejects the world on account of what it lacks and in the name of what it sometimes is. Rebellion can be observed here in its pure state and in its original complexities. Thus art should give us a final perspective on the content of rebellion.”
-Albert Camus, The Rebel: An Essay on Man in Revolt-
Somewhere in the recesses of self, we defy gravity. The defining words for all things hover, after all. We create, construct, reconstruct; elicit conduits unseen. We are keepers, makers. We are wholly ours but given nonetheless. In that long pour, think—it’s not the body that gets undressed. As Camus writes:
“The symphonies of nature know no rests. The world is never quiet; even its silence eternally resounds with the same notes, in vibrations that escape our ears. As for those that we perceive, they carry sounds to us, occasionally a chord, never a melody. Music exists, however, in which symphonies are completed, where melody gives its form to sounds that by themselves have none, and where, finally, a particular arrangement of notes extracts from natural disorder a unity that is satisfying to the mind and the heart.”
Sometimes a hum, sometimes a roar, the impetus drives us, outward bound and inward leaning. And I ask, Is this right? Normal? Place as in the paradox, my space of fertile ground? I know, of course, as do you in all the ways we polyglot the same language; speak as one in foundational form though separate as voice.
“Art disputes reality, but does not hide from it,” Camus maintains. So I grasp, reach, find you there—in me, with me, the “living transcendence” I’ve learned is where I’m yours. Verse and meaning; the quiet revolution between split ribs and cardiac rhythms; crimes of logic, crimes of passion. For us, connection is the breach. And applied just right, we’re sentenced to be free.
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thinking about the fact that in finale jacks gives tella the dagger to stab him with to end their marriage right??? and she does. but in ouabh, jacks gives eva the dagger, and tells her to stab him but she chooses not to. which probably surprised jacks because it seems like he thought she would do the same as donatella 😭😭😭😭 help i'm in shambles
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moe-broey · 3 months
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Imagine, jf you would. Divorced guy Lif
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beeapocalypse · 1 year
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trying to craft a funger oc like aughhhh i can see him i can picture him in my head right now [image of the most off putting little man possible]
#he does not have a name yet but he DOES have a vague concept. author from the eastern union who got drafted into the military and--#--met another guy during the 1 week he had b4 getting shipped out to basic training. they immediately develop a WAY intense relationship--#--and constantly send letters to each other. author is a total chickenshit and comes to cope w the violence of war thru--#--alcoholism and a complete retreat into his obsession w the other man. gets a couple wires crossed and has his lust morph into more + more#--violent fantasies that the other man plays along w bc its Fun+Wild (at its core its the authors desire for CONTROL. if hes the one--#--bringing the pain then hes safe. even better if its with the single person in existence he feels like he can trust during that--#--period of time). manages to live throughout the rest of the war and rushes back to his lover. spends a slowly degrading week w him where-#--the man comes to realize what he thought of as simple metaphor+exaggeration was TRUE desire from the author + the author flounders--#--without the then expected+familiar terror day in and day out. culminates in the man demanding the author leave and never try to contact--#--him again (saying their romance was wild and exciting and unlike anything hed ever experienced but the only good way it couldve ended--#--was if the author died out on the front and forever left him Wanting without the actual reality of those desires realized) and the--#--author either tries to shoot himself or the man (fails to do so. lol) b4 running off to the first train out of town. worlds messiest guy#ya it leans a bit into samarie territory but hes fun. his theoretical ending b would probably have smth to do w sylvian worship + marriages#even more vague idea for his moonscorched form is a sopping wet pathetic red wolf ('red wolf' being one of the mans terms of endearment--#--thru their wartime love letters) w its legs tangled up in barbed wire so it has to drag itself around. red bc its incredibly--#--thin skin (<-- do you get it .) splits and bleeds thru with every movement. a lot of whining and incoherent babbling as it hesitates to--#--ACTUALLY attack anybody. should have some cock horror element but ive no ideas on that front LOL#skill ideas are persistence predator (more melee damage dealt the less mind hes got- a backstory choice where he focuses entirely on the--#--love letters rather than splitting focus on his on-pause career with short stories) and an unnamed one playing into his terror/lust deal-#--where he gets a buff to either melee damage or speed when his phobia is active. want to come up with at least one more though#mmmaybe him being an author doesnt play that well into his concept as a whole but hes my strangeguy so whatever
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elegantwoes · 2 years
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People who sing Rheagar and Lyanna is a love story are not getting a subject of the story their story echoes, Bael and the bard. In the current timeline, we have two other stories, that echo that Sansa and Jon, who were both held hostage and had to comply under the threat of death Sansa was molested on her wedding night, Jon was just raped and yes, in both stories, there was a kidnapping. both Sansa and Jon’s marriages did protect them and so did their status as a bastard protected them from death so if you look up on regarding Rheagar Lyanna‘s marriage, protected her from something and having a bastard did(from what I don’t know) but she was raped and she was kidnapped. our author has always pointed that when adults put children in sexual positions when they’re too young, for it didn’t die by that Lysa died to Peter because she raped him Drogo, and Viserys died to Daenerys  because they put her in that position. let’s not romanticize this not even an author does that 
Well said, dear anon. People often seem to forget that the Bael the Bard story is a negative story and being associated with that tale is not a good thing. We have three, actually four if we include Jon’s gender reverse version, bard figures (Bael, Rhaegar, Baelish, and Ygritte). Three of the four of them are outright villains who prey on a ‘Stark Maiden’. Based on that it makes sense that the second tale is as equally fucked up as the rest. Rhaegar and Lyanna are not a love story. To assume that it is, is an insult to poor Lyanna.
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unproduciblesmackdown · 11 months
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billions could only have a gay man, who was married, and died by the end of that season; only deal with taylor's upending of presumed cishettery by having everyone who's not terrible be automatically down without putting some crisis about it on them, as the better approach to trying to have people talk about it (true, certainly in this case); extent of its room for rian's latent nonbinariness being "never wearing skirts/dresses, always wearing makeup though"....all that is to say, even with neither of them allowed to be "truly" cishet, b/c that's the rewarded realm for superior people, billions could never do winstuk. but they could be kissing right now
#winston & tuk: cannot be cishet in a way that matters (billions means this as an insult. i mean it as a testimonial)#sure convincing that winston's own ideals are like ''wow im the straightest in the world'' after One alleged official dating experience#and Two crushes on nonbinary people. and being the One person who's a) supported tuk b) without telling him to Stop Being A Loser#the one way other characters can Elevate(tm) tuk more than winston: not Really support him; just tell him to Become worthier#while winston: does not do this#anyway nobody at all gets to be ''truly'' ''ideally'' cishet; just like other inventions re the Correctest body/mind's look & behavior#tbt yrs & yrs ago some random lady talking abt ''queering'' her marriage by having a cellphone or smthing like ma'am i agree nowadays fr#winston Cannot have a ''correct'' sexuality even if he's supposedly ''at least'' cishet with it#neither can tuk; next most loserest dumped no gf nerd! neither Unglasses'd; neither Thin; winston's autistic; tuk isn't white....#show goes ''well just look at & listen to him XD'' towards winston on occasion; usually doesn't ''overtly'' do this; doesn't re: tuk....#meanwhile the idea that well Non Hot(tm) people who have no place in ideals & fantasy of Correctness & what's most desired?#they can get with Each Other :) that doesn't threaten things haha don't know how wrong they are. or have accepted All They Deserve (less)#billions is so proximately capable of letting these two be Involved in this way lmao. but it also Isn't#can barely handle taylor & just avoids addressing as much outright as often; again: one gay man; neatly married; neatly deceased....#iconic total hc's: supplementary dynamics the ladies who are also friends they hooked up w/in 6x11 having a fourway abt it#no anxious negotiating of what must be done & must not be done to keep it all cishet ''enough'' lol. congrats to them all#winston billions#winstuk#was already thinking winston could be dating someone we don't know abt till billions tried to reassure us oh he hasn't Of Course lol right#same is true for tuk ofc but he gets the same treatment (ft. ben's utter mysteriousness re: Any mention of past dating history....)#riawin could've been great & was completely welcome; issue became how the abusiveness there would just also manifest re: sex / romance#totally won't find resonance / overlap b/w ableism & homophobia in how winston's sexuality is seen as mere sex drive that's also gross btw#tuk's really also framed the same way like Of Course You'd Be Rejected; and Any desires would become repulsively Too Much#b/c the superior parties have to want it for it to be correct! & they'd never want You! you're just completely wrong & outside of it all#winston talking at all? Too Much. he must be talked To; & that is so usually begrudging & nonideal#other ppl being horney like well of course. pretty epic really#like w/e winston's sucking & fucking & [Saluting] if he isn't dating at all. like good for him. he can make out w/tuk one way or another#''winston can go fuck himself'' (like one bg dialogue person straightup says) Okay. He Is. party for one? this too can be Sex
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oldbutchdaniel · 6 months
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hear me out, bpf: booping people fic
i’m listening……………..
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Also, vaguely related to the last post: I do think sometimes ppl overstate the like. Importance of religion/Christian culture when writing about the Wittebane brothers-
(not that it's not a very strong element of the story that Philip is a critique of Christian institutions, but rather bc, based on what we know, both of them stopped holding explicit Christian values at some point during adulthood, if they ever really cared and weren't just witch-hunting for social clout/material gains like the reenactment in thanks to them shows. Philip only uses it as an ideological shield to buster his own notion of heroism, as in, he knows Christianity is Good but he can't be bothered to actually demonstrate it's values (like not murdering your brother) which fits with his primary metaphor as a colonist/modern conservative.(bc something something social norms and dominant groups and excuse to commit heinous crimes you know are heinous but are apathetic towards) and uh. I think it's safe to say Caleb wasn't super concerned about things like sex w/in marriage when he was already bumping a supposed 'servant of the dark' (Evelyn, my faceless darling beloved). Okay, tangent over)
-but I will be the first to admit that, as an ex-catholic, sometimes applying a twisted version of the imagery associated with Christianity to a story about murder and betrayal fucks severely. even if I don't think it would hold great significance to Philip as a person/character if he were to creepily hum "oil in my lamp" as he lights the ring of fire that he and Caleb have their death match in (he's sooooo culturally Christian who considers himself an enlightened atheist on Reddit core)...the idea and how it'd look to us as an audience? Based.
#ramblings of a lunatic#the owl house#toh#caleb wittebane#belos toh#praying to god ppl are normal on the post where i say ppl write the wittebane brothers as too Christian /j#i just think ppl toon Belos' speech in hollow mind at face value too much when the more coherent interpretation of his character-#-is a man with very little moral code and a lot of concern for only himself using morality as a shield for his actions#it's not the only difference between him and Luz but it's one of them. she's true to her convictions even when it gets her punished#namely her ideology of self-expression and determination#she actually has a moral compass even if it's never gonna be perfect but unlike philip at least she's trying#sorry I make everything about luz. it will happen again <3#We never actually get proof that marriage exists as we know it is a thing on the boiling isles tbh. btw. i realised this while writing#I can't think of a single time any of the adult couples with kids refer to each other as partners or spouses#except Alador and Odalia but it's clearly very business-y on purpose w/ them#Dana does say Alador and odalia got divorced but who's to say what that looks like in universe#We know they don't have wedding rings on the isles#so while I doubt that marriage as a concept doesn't exist#it may be way more casual#-slash less normative than it is here for us. It's actually fully possible that Caleb got Evelyn pregnant outside of marriage#and like. Again#I doubt Philip cared#more focused on the witch thing#but it's still kinda funny to my. Slut! Caleb prevails once more.#okay okay I'm done everyone be normal here#i actually don't even know who's gonna see this bc I've blocked so many ppl in the wittebros side of fandom-#-for being Weird about the show treating these two secondary/side characters as. yknow. secondary#and instead focusing on it's actual main character in the finale instead of them. it makes me feel Weird#that was more immediately after WaD aired though so like. idk what the convo looks like now#anyway. I'm gonna try and sleep now
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lunaetis · 1 year
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LUMINE : NAME HOLDER ( II ) ( PART I : TRUE NAME )
the title of name holder has more meaning to a celestial than anything one could imagine. it is a title of honor, of respect, of trust, and devotion. something more sacred than marriage, than vows. it is law, it is fate, woven by the celestial themselves. the strict rule is that there could only be one name holder at a time. the bond and title cannot be taken, broken, nor transferred to another by force or any magic known to universe no matter how powerful. in order to change your name holder, the current name holder must agree to break the contract and the celestial can then ask someone else to be their name holder. there is a belief that the title / contract will be broken by death of the name holder themselves, or the death of the celestial, but it had not been confirmed.
the ritual consists of the celestial asking someone to be their name holder, in words, after having written their true name on their palm. once accepted, the bond will be forged and the celestial will grant their name holder a mark on the person's skin. the placement of the mark varies from person to person. [ lumine / ying's mark reference : design , how it looks on the skin ]
there are several benefits to the name holder bond / contract. by uttering the name, the name holder allows the celestial to warp to them in an instant, and opens a telepathic communication, as well as allowing the name holder to feel and hear the thoughts of the celestial. the celestial could give their lifeforce to their name holder in order to extend their lifespan or heal their wounds. they could literally give anything that is theirs to their name holder, be it power, magic, or more. invoking their name holder's right makes their words absolute. their will, their thoughts, their heart and soul will govern and drive the celestial's mind. the celestial cannot disobey any orders given by the name holder once they uttered their true name whether they agree with the said orders or not.
the name holder uttering their true name also affect the celestial's emotional state directly. it is like speaking to their very core. if you wanted lumine's full attention or to calm her down ? call her by her true name.
give your true name to the wrong person, and you doom your fate for eternity.
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elisaenglish · 1 year
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The Double Flame: Octavio Paz on Love
Love is a bet, a wild one, placed on freedom. Not my own; the freedom of the Other… A knot made of two intertwined freedoms.
We love to forget ourselves, but also to remember what we are: mortal creatures lustful of meaning, radiant with life, eternally alone and eternally longing for home—home in ourselves and home in each other. “I hold this to be the highest task of a bond between two people: that each should stand guard over the solitude of the other,” Rilke wrote in his exquisite reckoning with the interplay of freedom and togetherness in love—Rilke, who also knew that “death is our friend precisely because it brings us into absolute and passionate presence with all that is here, that is natural, that is love.”
The delicate, eternal, life-magnifying relationship between love and death, between union and freedom, is what Nobel laureate Octavio Paz (March 31, 1914–April 19, 1998) explores throughout his timeless book The Double Flame: Love and Eroticism (public library), composed in the final years of his long life.
Paz writes:
“In love, predestination and choice, objective and subjective, fate and freedom intersect.”
This dialogue between fate and freedom permeates Paz’s reckoning with love. Love, he observes, is not merely “the passionate attraction toward a single person” but, in the particularity of that person, requires “the transformation of the erotic object into a free and unique subject.” An epoch after Rilke, Paz writes:
“Love is a bet, a wild one, placed on freedom. Not my own; the freedom of the Other.
[…]
Love… transforms the subject and object of the erotic encounter into unique persons… Its cornerstone is freedom: the mystery of the person.
[…]
The transformation of the erotic object into a person immediately makes the person a subject who possesses free will. The object I desire becomes a subject who desires me—or rejects me. The giving up of personal sovereignty and the voluntary acceptance of servitude involves a genuine change of nature: by way of the bridge of mutual desire the object becomes desiring subject and the subject becomes desiring object. Love, then, is represented in the form of a knot. A knot made of two intertwined freedoms.”
Again and again, Paz returns to “the conjunction of fate and freedom” in love:
“Whether the relationship is the result of accident or predestination, to reach fulfilment the complicity of our will is required. Love, any love, implies a sacrifice; and we choose that sacrifice without batting an eye. This is the mystery of freedom… In short, love is freedom personified, freedom incarnated in a body and a soul.”
Lamenting the deficiency of language as a vessel to hold our most oceanic experiences, he adds:
“How precarious and elusive are the ideas with which we attempt to explain the mystery of love. A mystery that is part of a greater one: the human being, who, suspended between chance and necessity, transforms his predicament into freedom.
[…]
There is an intimate, causal relation between love and freedom.”
Freedom, Paz intimates, is not willed but attained through that most difficult of human achievements—surrender:
“True love consists precisely of the transformation of the appetite for possession into surrender.”
But here is the transcendent, devastating heart of the matter: When we surrender to love, we are also surrendering to time—the entropic emperor of human destiny. Paz writes:
“Human love is the union of two beings subject to time and its accidents: change, sickness, death. Although it does not save us from time, it opens it a crack, so that in a flash love’s contradictory nature is manifest: that vivacity which endlessly destroys itself and is reborn, which is always both now and never.”
With an eye to our destiny as mortal creatures, “playthings of time and accident,” Paz insists that “love is one of the answers that humankind has invented in order to look death in the face.” He writes:
“Love is life to the full, at one with itself: the opposite of separation. In the sensation of the carnal embrace the union of the couple becomes feeling, and feeling in turn becomes awareness; love is the discovery of the unity of life. But in that instant the compact unity is broken in two, and time reappears: it is a great hole that swallows us… Total fusion includes the acceptance of death. Without death, life—ours, here on this earth—is not life. Love does not vanquish death but makes it an integral part of life.”
Observing that love is “bound to earth by the body’s gravitation, which is pleasure and death,” Paz considers the essential polarity of our richest and most life-affirming experience:
“Like all the great creations of humanity, love is twofold: it is the supreme happiness and the supreme misfortune… Lovers pass constantly from rapture to despair, from sadness to joy, from wrath to tenderness, from desperation to sensuality… The lover is perpetually driven by contradictory emotions. Popular language, in all times and all places, abounds in expressions that describe the vulnerability of a person in love: love is a wound, an injury. But as St. John of the Cross says, it is “a wound that is a gift,” a “gentle cautery,” a “delightful wound.” Yes, love is a flower of blood. It is also a talisman: the vulnerability of lovers protects them. Their shield is their lack of defense; their armour is their nakedness.
[…]
Yet despite all the ills and misfortunes it brings, we always endeavour to love and be loved. Love is the closest thing on this earth to the beatitude of the blessed.”
All of our situational vulnerability springs from the supreme existential vulnerability we are born into—our mortality, the haunting fact of it, the stark assurance of it in every smallest act of dissolution pointing the arrow of time at death. A generation before the poet Mark Doty observed in his superb Whitman-lensed meditation on love and death that “you need to both remember where love leads and love anyway,” Paz writes:
“Love does not preserve us from the risks and misfortunes of existence. No love, not even those that are most peaceful and happy, escapes the disasters and calamities of time. Love, any love, is made up of time, and no love can avoid the great catastrophe: the beloved is subject to the assaults of age, infirmity, and death.”
Echoing Borges’s timeless refutation of time and Kierkegaard’s insistence that “the moment is not properly an atom of time but an atom of eternity,” he adds:
“There is no remedy for time. Or, at least, we do not know what it is. But we must trust in the flow of time, we must live.
[…]
We are time and cannot escape its dominion. We can transfigure it but not deny it or destroy it. This is what the great artists, poets, philosophers, scientists, and certain men of action have done. Love, too, is an answer: because it is time and made of time, love is at once consciousness of death and an attempt to make of the instant an eternity. All loves are ill-starred, because all are made of time, all are the fragile bond between two temporal creatures who know they are going to die. In all loves, even the most tragic, there is an instant of happiness that it is no exaggeration to call superhuman: it is a victory over time, a glimpse of the other side, of the there that is a here, where nothing changes and everything that is, truly is.”
What emerges is a conception of love not as an antidote to death but as its vitalising antipode:
“Love does not defeat death; it is a wager against time and its accidents. Through love we catch a glimpse, in this life, of the other life. Not of the eternal life, but… of pure vitality.
[…]
Love is not eternity; nor is it the time of calendars and watches, successive time. The time of love is neither great nor small; it is the perception of all times, of all lives, in a single instant. It does not free us from death but makes us see it face to face… We are the theatre of the embrace of opposites and of their dissolution, resolved in a single note that is not affirmation or negation but acceptance… the presence that dissolves into splendour: pure vitality, a heartbeat of time.”
The Double Flame is a superb read in its entirety. Complement it with Hannah Arendt on love and how to live with the fundamental fear of its loss and French philosopher Alain Badiou on why we fall and how we stay in love, then revisit this florilegium of two centuries of great minds reckoning with time.
Source: Maria Popova, themarginalian.org (4th April 2023)
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castielmacleod · 2 years
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I don’t care about the prequel *foams at the mouth at the mere possibility of seeing Rowena again*
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studentbuddies · 2 years
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Sonnet 116 by Shakespeare
This sonnet 116 'Let me not to the marriage of true minds' was an address of William Shakespeare to his friend and patron, earl of Southampton, Shakespeare wrote 154 sonnets. for more details click on studentbuddies
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king127 · 1 month
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It’s painful being in love with someone who did you dirty & talks so bad about you to others. Praying for strength to let go & heal. Literally in disbelief & disappointed. Never would’ve imagined it this way. But that’s life right? A pain a real one shouldn’t have to feel. Literal pain. So difficult to describe. People who never felt true love would’ve even understand. I never understood heartbreak until it happened to me. I pray when y’all fall in love it’s equally between the two because this ain’t it. Literally not myself anymore, I will never let myself love someone like that again. It’s not worth this heartbreak, trust is so far gone & I don’t want to try again, so I won’t. Fuck That! So many emotions at once.
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tonycries · 23 days
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The Family Matter?!
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Synopsis. Babyfevér - it’s never felt so good.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, breéding, mentions of kids/ marriage, a LOT of creampíes, Gojo’s powers, cúmplay (like a lot), spítting, overstím, exhíbitionism (Geto’s), chokíng Nanami, pússy-slappíng, proposals, rúts (Choso), bíting, true form! Sukuna, overspill, dp, bondagé, mentions of dàddy kínk, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 5.9k
A/N. To the one anon that wanted this - how did you read my mind?? Hope y’all have a lovely week <3
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♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Santa, baby…
“B-but- Christmas isn’t for another few months, Toji—”
Now, Toji has to admit - that broken, honeyed-out little drag of his name is enough to crack even that tough demeanor of his - just a bit. And it’s all he can do to calm down the raging twitch of his buried cock, driving it deeper and deeper against your mushy g-spot to shut up those dangerous moans of yours. 
“B-b-but-” You’re flinching when his deep, baritone voice pitches dramatically high to mock your own, a large palm coming down to give your poor clit a branding smack! “-but, you think that’s gonna stop me, ma?”
Stupidly, you’re whirling your dazed eyes over your shoulder to catch his, only for the calloused pads of his fingers to swiftly force your face back down. 
“Not me, you don’t get to hah- look at me just yet, doll.” Toji grits out from behind you, feverish puffs of breath sending goosebumps down your spine. Down to where your puffy cunt was just bulging with all long, solid inches of his swollen, overworked cock. Sloppy. Overspilling. “Not until you’re giving me another brat by Christmas.” 
A sob wrenches out of you when Toji jostles his sharp hips against yours. Harder, until you could feel every minute smack of his still-full, sensitive balls, every slosh of his syrupy sticky cum coating your walls from earlier. 
“Look.” 
You’re shaking your head in almost-bratty protest, the fat of your ass still pushing and pulling against his rugged thrusts. You feel like you could go insane if you saw any more. Thighs twitching to a shy close, “Ngh- can’t s’too- too much.”
This only pulls out a displeased growl from your pussydrunk boyfriend, rasping out a warning. “No fuck-  don’t you fucking dare-” Big, beefy hands wrench your legs even farther apart to admire the mess he’s made, bruising where he holds them unable to escape. “Don’t you even think of it, woman.”
It’s accompanied by another harsh slap! on your puffed-up clit, this time harder than the last. Shocking you to your heated core until you’re seeing stars behind your eyes, already-ruined cunt just clenching in painful pleasure. 
He laughs - laughs, “Instead of squeezin’ the fucking soul outta me, look here at how you’re wastin’ my cum. How can I make you a momma in time like this, huh?” 
You’re blinking away those big, fat globs of tears to finally spy back down again at your drooling cunt. Swollen folds spread shamefully, gaping. Every slam of his hips makes you gush down his achy shaft with a gloss of your sweet sweet juice and his own cum. It splays in a creamy little puddle at your silken sheets, clinging to your bodies like a second, sloppy skin. “Y-you’re so filthy, Toji.”
But Toji couldn’t bring himself to be disgusted - not one bit. In fact, he could feel the tip of his angry head growing even fatter, expanding to meld its way deep into your elastic walls.
“Filthy, huh?” he chuckles so darkly. “Got such a mouth on ya, can already tell you’re gonna be a ah- strict momma.” His fingers are prying your jaw to sag open, whispering so slow and syrupy along your open mouth, “Well, let me tell you a little secret, ma. Doesn’t matter what you call me now, because in about nine months you’ll be calling me something else.”
“And what would- mmpf!” Oh, for how much he loved your sharp mouth, he sure was well and fully intent on shutting you up. Toji’s hitting his cock at the back of your pussy, just mashing deep into your g-spot in sinful sync. Over and over. “-and what would that be?”
Another finalizing smack to your pulsing clit, so smug and messy. He tilts his head to that growing pool below you, splurging farther and farther with each decisive, feral ram. “Your baby daddy, that’s what.” 
As if on cue, you’re cumming - you can’t even remember which saccharine sweet high of the night, but all you know is Toji’s gifting your gummy cunt with a few bullying kisses on your ravaged g-spot. Rough, lingering clashes of his weepy tip on your ravaged g-spot, sending your toes curling, white-hot shocks of pleasure. Again and again and again-
“Fuck- fuuuck yeah take it.” he’s grunting out hoarsely, hips stuttering and so so feral. Barely having the sanity to pull out in his jagged half-thrusts, splitting you apart on all his weighty length to cum inside you - deep.
Painting each and every inch of your heavenly cunt that could be reached with coat after coat of velvety white - all the way from where he was gliding his fat tip across your cervix, down, down, down to your sensitive spots, your sopping wide opening. “Want- need it so bad. Need ya to make me a daddy again. So fuckin’ bad you have no idea- you’d be fuckin’ scared.”
Those mean fingers smushing your cheeks into an embarrassing pout dance down to gather the dredges of his own cum, oozing out of the corners of your slit in a milky white sheen. Still rutting into you, he suckles on them languidly like his favorite candy, “Mmpf- as sweet as ever, doll.”
“Y-you’re so fuckin’ mean, Toji-” your jaw slacks open at his lewd actions. “Our kid better not get such an- hah- an awful personality.”
That makes him pause - it makes him pull away his digits, glistening and connected with stringy ropes of the mess he’s made. Grinning for just  a split-second before shoving the entire length of his fingers into your plush mouth. 
Toji huffs cockily, the rounded tips of his fingers swirl around and around your lolling tongue, addicting you onto the slighty-salted taste. “Our daughter will be lucky to hngh- get my personality n’ your pretty looks.” And you’re barely even lucid when he’s whispering into your sweat-sheened forehead, “So you better give me good news for Christmas this year, ma.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - “Take it, like a good lil’ wife.”
Your mouth is sagging open at Nanami’s uncharacteristically gritted words. So hoarse, pained - like they were dragged out of his raggedly heaving chest with each bullying ram of his hips. 
It was barely midway into the evening, and you had no clue how you ended up like this. How those fleeting little titters during your romantic at-home dinner date about kids wound up with Nanami splayed on his broad back on the soft silken sheets. Sculpted abs curving into your back when he nuzzles your neck, plowing his furiously hard cock in his favorite mean full nelson.
“Ha- you’re being so-” you’re gasping out in a wet stutter, ass grinding back onto those neat lanes of blond at his thick base. He’s spearheading you so- “-so mean, Ken.”
“Am, I?” he’s purring, a low rumbling growl from the bottom of his chest. “Well, I might be the stricter parent, that’s right.”
Rolled-up sleeves graze against your heated skin, and you could feel every ridge of the veins along his forearms when he spreads your dangling legs even wider. Jutting his hips so deeply upwards to bow your body to the throbbing curve of his dick. “But, I apologize, darling.” Neat rows of his pearly white teeth sink down on your earlobe, “Feel free to do something- anything about it. Because m’afraid I won’t be able to stop any time soon.”
It was a promise - just the clingy feeling of your walls molding and wetting according to his very shape has him losing his mind. His sanity.
Choking back a long, drawn-out groan when two thick fingers slide down to roll over your puffy clit, “Fuuuck, my love, you’re so- hngh perfect like this.” The bed creaks in protest when his powerful thighs arch even higher upwards, all those hours at the gym paying off when every frenzied mash into the bulging treasure of your g-spot makes your mouth water. He breathes into the intimate crook of your neck, “Though, I bet you’d look even prettier as a momma, right?”
Somehow, that makes your face burn more than being split apart on his relentless cock has. 
“Oh- shit.” you whine, fucking your hips back in a sloppy little staccato. Reaching your trembly arm around his strong neck, your fingers find his favorite speckled yellow tie. Yanking until Nanami’s stern lips in a syrupy sweet kiss. “Really wan’ you to hah- breed me, Ken.”
“Fuck- Oh yeah?” he gasps. And if you didn’t know any better then you’d have said that that came out as a fucking whine. The ever-stoic Nanami Kento crumbling bit by bit with each rummaging thrust to shape your gummy walls. “Then why’d it fuck- take so long. Fuck, I’ve been dreaming of this since the ah- day I met you, my girl.”
Sharp hips dig into the plush of your ass with each pivot, it’s bouncing you back and forth along his slobbering cock. So rough. So tall and angry, you’re hit with a steaming hot gush of milky precum every time Nanami’s sliding out of you up to his thick, girthy tip. 
“Been thinking about you and I- and a little one. A few, actually. One blonde with your eyes, the other two with mine and your gorgeous smile.” That sweet little admission has your twitchy fingers subconsciously dragging at the heavy fabric of his tie. Tight around Nanami’s straining neck, making his head light and cock twitch wildly to draw little patterns on your cervix. “Fuck! Fuck no- keep pullin’ like that, darling.” 
You could feel his raw length rub against sensitive sports you never even knew felt good, in sync with that wandering free-hand of his. Now dancing upwards to glide his touchy thumb over your bouncing tits. “K-Ken, m’so close.”
“How pretty these would look all full of milk, darling.” he muses, sounding more like he’s speaking to himself than anything. Your knees are buckling now, cunt eagerly taking in every powerfully pressurized thrust of his. But Nanami hasn’t had enough of his fill, feeling a burning trail down your arching body. Down the valley of your breasts, your stomach, “And here- where m’gonna fuck-” He’s cutting himself up as his hips slam up into you like with a mind of their own, “-fill you up, make you a momma. Oh, you’d be the best momma. The best.”
He’s fucking you so rough now - so jagged that you’re white-knuckling his tie, reeling him in so close. “And you’d- fuck m’gonna-” you’re sobbing now, over those drawled-out squelches from your velvety cunt. “You’d be the best da-”
You can’t finish your sentence - you couldn’t, because with a few more practiced strokes, you’re cumming all over Nanami’s massive cock. Feeling your elastic walls try to suck him up so hard you wondered whether it didn’t hurt. 
But it didn’t - it felt so sinfully good, in fact, that it was only a matter of a few blissful seconds before you’re being filled up with thick globs of his seed. Drooling out of you with each creamy rut into you, your gaping entrance only takes more. Still pounding into you, bottoming out - yet still pushing to give you everything he had to give.
“Sh-shit.” Nanami marvels at the silky ribbons of cum being stuffed inside, the way it slews up with your honeyed slick to form a glistening gloss down both your fronts. “Wait- oh, wait.” Nanami’s trembling cock spurs out a few more overflowing shots of seed at the very thought of what he was about to do. Still stuffed in, he’s reaching over to rustle through the pockets of his dress pants scattered mere inches away from the two of your slick, convulsing bodies on the bed.
You’re jolting when you feel something cold and metallic slide around your left ring finger, “Didn’t think I’d let you be the mother of my kids without a ring, did you, my wife?”
♡ GETO SUGURU - Escape?
“Gorgeous…” Geto’s sultry, slow whisper sends goosebumps running down every inch of your skin. And it’s so soothing - so gentle, and yet- “-doesn’t matter how much you tug, these things won’t let you escape, m’kay?”
A wrenching sob rips from your hoarse throat, and all you can manage to do is tug on those tight, hot-pink handcuffs around your wrists. Pulling to prop your fucked-out body against the very top of his luxurious futon, “S-Sugu, you’re so mean.” Your wide eyes scan the pristine tatami room at his shrine, “Anyone could walk in-”
“And yet you’re still being such a slut, my girl.” He flashes you a rosy red grin, so blindingly pretty that it makes your cunt throb. “Still waiting f’me to breed your pretty pussy. Which would it be? The fifth now?”
Geto doesn’t even have to finish the sentence before you’re abruptly sitting upright, bottom lip wobbling with need. Your swollen pussy is just weeping beads of his cum at this point, sobbing down where he was still buried so eagerly inside your gummy walls. Your thighs shaky in- fear? Anticipation? The need for more? 
“Ah ah-” you feel two soft little smacks to the side of your cheek. “Don’t zone out on me just yet, gorgeous. S’this hah- boring for you?” And despite all the pleading shakes of your head, he only plows on, “Aww, what a shame. Guess I just hafta spice things up-”
It’s all the warning you’re getting - barely even - before your poor, weepy cunt is back to being just split apart on his fat head. Not even being eased into it, no care or concern for those overstimulated spasms when he stuffs you full. 
“F-fuck-” your eyes are shooting open - when did they even close? - at the sound of nearby footsteps in the hallway behind those sliding doors. Very nearby. “I swear someone’s gonna catch us, Sugu-”
The only sound that rings throughout his humid, heady room is your wet gag - muffled around the pale, slender fingers of his being shoved between your kiss-bitten lips. All you can register are the soft pads of his digits pressing down on the back of your taste buds and the unforgiving little pulses of his prominent veins dragging against your gummy walls. 
Leaning down - until he’s so dangerously close, until you could count every long, dark lash on his eyelids, every flex of his muscles - slosh of his syrupy sweet inside you - as he sets a languid, lazy pace. “If someone catches us then I will hngh- jus’ keep going, do not test me, pretty girl.”
The other of his splayed out fingers are drawing methodical, dizzying circles on the very tip of your sensitive clit. Matching his teasing place, every grazing nudge of his leaky tip coating your bruising g-spot. 
“Haven’t I already told ya not to start things you c-can’t finish?” Geto’s husky voice is talking you through every clingy thrust. Falling from his pretty lips with each deep snap, fucking you into the drenched futon leisurely like some cocksleeve. “N’ what did you do, hm?”
You couldn’t answer if you wanted to - because Geto’s fingers were still firmly swiping around your tongue. Murmuring, “Exactly that. Just had to make that fuckin’ hah- stupid little joke about me not being able to handle another daughter, huh?”
“Mmpf- hngh Sugur-” you try to moan out at a low thump! outside, but he’s shushing you pliantly quiet with a ragged pump into your womb. Making you gush velvety ribbons of his previous cum.
“Heh, think this cunt actually wants to get out of this without being bred?” It was true, your painted-white walls were just clinging elastically to Geto’s shaft every time he drove into you, sucking up every bit of him like you’re trying to milk out something delicious. Again. 
“And guess what?” he’s so crazed now, eyes glowing with a dark delight. Hips pistoning into yours with fearsome accuracy to smash over and over into the bullseye of your sensitive spot. Sloppier. The shuffling outside getting louder. So unfairly good that you’re barely registering his next words, “M’jus’ gonna breed this slutty pussy until you give me another. Until everyone knows you’re my slut.”
It only takes one, two, three more drilling clashes with your g-spot for you to fall apart once more. 
Your own orgasm bursts out of you. Squirting in glistening dredges again and again until it’s just a few fatiguing shocks of pleasure that have you heaving for air, whining Geto’s name like a mantra. The overstimulation too much, his twitching cock too big - over and over-
“F-fuuuuck- squirting all over, y’made such a mess.” Geto’s moan is so pornographic when that angry divot at his flushed head explodes with spurts of thick hot cum. So addictively sweltering against your plush walls, it floods into your womb, down your thighs - to your lungs it almost feels like. “Gonna give me another daughter? Yeah?” He breathes, head thrown back while he stuffs you too-full, until he could see the seeping white on your creamy cunt in his glassy peripheral vision. And he still isn’t done cumming - thinning out to mere sticky wisps. “Gonna make you so full- so swollen. Until everyone looks at you and knows what I did- how I defiled you. They’ll look at you and see me. Me, me, me, me-”
There’s such an animalistic cadence in the way he’s rutting into you, pushing you further and further up those drenched sheets. Just dragging your body forwards with one strong arm around your handcuffs when his sheer volume gets too much that you’re trying to pathetically escape. 
Thump!
In a split-second, Geto’s grabbing at a hidden dagger from underneath his robes. Throwing - dead straight through the paper doors - only for a loud thud! to echo from outside. “Bet the scum outside don’t even need to hear the pregnancy announcement, huh?”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - My strange addiction
Oh, there’s nothing you loved more than Choso losing control - around the time of year when the weather grows a little warmer, when your sweet boyfriend becomes a little more restless. Those dark, dewy eyes of his turning black with something primal, desperate. 
Ingrained in his blood to breed you. To do nothing but breed you. 
Like right now. 
“Oh?” you’re purring with a coy bat of your lashes, looking over your shoulder to where he was looming. Flushed, gulping, absolutely drunken off your heady scent. “On your rut again, Cho?”
And that makes his entire body jolt, as if zapped by a sudden wave of electricity. Large, trembly hands fist your thin shirt to pin you down like some ragdoll onto the cool kitchen counter. Breath hitching, such a pained grunt leaves him at the sound of his name leaving those pretty lips of yours. 
Almost guiltily, he’s baring a wet gasp, “Y-yes. Saw you makin’  ah- makin’ us dinner in the kitchen and-” It’s like he hasn’t even realized what he was doing, slapping his raw cock against your drooling slit with each word. Smack! Smack! Smack! “-and- I just thought about how- just needed to…”
But alas, Choso doesn’t get to finish a single thought - because you’re stepping up onto your tip-toes - ever-so-slightly. Feeding your needy cunt with just the round girth of his very tip.
“Just needed to what, Cho?” you hum, quirking a devilish brow his way, holding back a keen at the sheer stretch of him around your sopping entrance. “Or do you wanna stop?”
Fuck, Choso swears he could feel his overworked balls squeeze so painfully at the very thought. “No-”  he’s hissing, glassy gaze widening almost comically. “No no no no no- please no. please, please this is all I want.” 
With a sultry giggle, you reach behind to pull him roughly by his soft strands. Choso’s grunting out hoarsely, letting himself be dragged to clash his lips against your bruised ones in such a sloppy kiss. All tongue and teeth, he drinks you in like a man depraved. “All you ever want is to just hah- fuck me in this kitchen, Cho?”
It’s so cute the way he’s sputtering dazedly into your sagging mouth, such a sweet whiny cry of, “Yes but no- fuck, I jus’ wanna–” The slow drag of his heavy tongue coats the crook of your neck in his saliva, hammering his swollen cock upwards until he was practically lifting you off the ground with sheer inhuman force. “Jus’ wanna breed you full, baby. Breed this pretty pussy like m’meant to.”
It’s with an almost-animalistic type of worship that Choso’s just ramming the rest of his thick cock into you until he’s spearheading straight into your spongy g-spot, weighty balls - painful, and ready for breeding - smacking against your ass. Addicted. 
“O-oh, fuck–” you can’t stop your honeyed gasps. “You’re s-so big- so hard even after just this morning? What a naughty boy.” 
Just slamming you down onto the cool marble,“Fuck- fuck fuck y’know what I imagined when I hah- saw you in the kitchen?” Such throaty groans drag along with each and every plunge into your slobbering pussy, Choso was always so talkative when he was like this. Slurring out a mile a minute, “Saw my pretty wife, the pretty mother of my kids.”
And you knew what he was going to say, but that doesn’t stop you from milking him so tight, velvety walls contracting in a way that almost made it difficult to maintain his sloppy staccato. Back arching into such a slutty bow to drag even needier down his drilling length
But your beloved boyfriend still wasn’t done, kissing away hotly at the corner of your mouth. “N’ s’not jus’ the hngh- rut talking either. Fuuuuck-” All six feet of his muscled body pins you to the counter, and distinctly, you could feel him scramble desperately to buck up a knee to angle his hips even deeper. “Saw you makin’ breakfast before school, and I’m- hngh- and I’m getting the kids ready - a boy and a girl, both as gorgeous as you.”
“Y-yeah?” Is all you can breathe out, “What- hngh- what else?”
You didn’t expect his humorless chuckle - broken, and a few pitches higher than normal. “What else?” His eyes are absolutely crazed now, and he’s biting down on your pouty lower lip. “Oh what didn’t I see?” 
Bowing till you could feel every ripple of his abs against your back. Every slow tremor of his glossy head nudging past your defenses, hitting deep at the bottom of your g-spot. It takes a few more sloppy pumps for you to realize that Choso’s still speaking. 
“Saw the wedding- saw the first birth, the way I cried-” The way he was crying now, ragged, overstimulated tears dripping down his pretty cheeks. Panting out wetly, “-what a great momma you are, the best. The way I help you hngh- milk these p-pretty tits when it’s too much. But my most favorite of all-”
You don’t hear the rest - and he doesn’t tell you, because he’s too busy cumming. Cumming and cumming so much that Choso thinks he can’t stop, swollen base rummaging deep inside to plug up those thick ropes of hot seed inside. It was impossible that he hadn’t achieved his dream with this. 
It’s bloating you up, too much. Spilling out of those little gaps at the dips and ridges of his twitchy cock that your inner thighs cover in a clingy white sheen. 
Drawn on instinct, you can only scream when Choso’s sharp canines bite down on the sensitive spot at your neck. Hard enough to draw blood - and, if you two were in any better state of mind, you’d have noticed that he did draw blood. 
A thin saturation of heady red coating his devilish grin, delicate strings of spit still connect to the mating mark. “-my favorite was when we made another.”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - DOUBLE STUFFED!
“One more.”
“Kuna-”
“One more.”
When all you’re getting is that leeringly dangerous grin - the very same one he gifts any weak curses just about to be killed at his feet - you know there’s no way you’re getting out of this. Either you take it - or he makes you. 
Gliding your palms across Sukuna’s bulging pecs, your trembly legs twitch atop his muscled thighs. Gingerly jutting along where your poor cunt was being split apart on his twin bulgingly hard cocks. Up and down up and down up and-
“S’too much-” you’re whining, feeling the gush of his sticky cum coat down your thighs. Oozing out of your bloated cunt with every syrupy sweet bounce of his ravaging cocks. “I- not enough space-”
Any you were about to stupidly babble out is cut off when Sukuna wraps five thick digits around your exposed neck, intentionally dipping his sharp nails to leave branding little divots right about your racing pulse. A warning. A punishment. “Did I tell ya to keep runnin’ that hah- mouth, brat?” he spits, waiting for you to shake your head deliriously “no” before grinning. “Then why am I hearing so much t-talking n’ not enough of this slutty lil’ cunt of yours taking one more? You hear that?” 
All that was ringing in your ears was the honeyed echoes of squelches from below, smacking and slapping in sync with your pathetic movement. 
“Exactly.” Sukuna’s snapping you out of your thoughts, one hand resting at the glistening plush of your hips, the other spreading your puffy pussy lips to let you just slobber down his angry, red shafts. Glossing over him all the way from those fat tips to the creamy ring around his base. “Wastin’ too much of my hngh- cum with yer talkin’, brat. How are ya gonna have time to carry my seed?”
And he’s so large - so strong. Not even breaking a sweat when he’s getting up from his decadent throne with you boneless in his arms, still stuffing your cunt full with all greedy inches of both cocks. 
“O-oh, fuck, Kuna!” you’re squealing when gravity pulls you down until you could feel the scratch of his pink happy trail against the sensitively grazed areas of your skin. The dizzying push of two matchingly massive girths stretching your gummy walls to its limits. Your nails draw jagged red line down his tan skin, trying to keep just an ounce of your sanity together, “Fuck you’re in so hngh- deep.”
“Easy on the back there.” Sukuna’s rolling his eyes, but he can’t deny the way his heart clenches at the way you’re so fucked-out and easily sliding down his cock like some pretty sex toy. Whimpering about some baby names.
Not like it mattered, anyway. He’d name the little devilspawn whatever you wanted - after fighting about it for the fun of it. Heh, he always has been soft on you, huh?
All it takes is one hand holding you up, another to toy with the sensitive nub of your clit. Rolling and teasing you even deeper into his arms while another still rests firmly around your throat. 
The remaining hand? At Sukuna’s favorite place cupping your teary cheek, gliding away those big fat tears with the cure of his soft thumb, “Shh shhh, you can take it. You’re my pretty lil’ queen, right?”
Even his mind a hot melted mess on your dripping cunt. Just fucking into you ruthlessly, up, up, up till he was bulging at the very back of your cunt. One fat tip firmly kissing your g-spot, the other gliding in a silky smooth cadence against your poor cervix.
Matching veins rubbing matching sensitive spots, rendering you so awfully dumb on his cocks. Mixing with the hypnotic splattering of his seed against the velvet of your walls, it’s impossible to not feel like you’re about to fucking burst. 
Intertwining your fingers with his much longer ones on your face, you’re dragging them to rest at that palpable little nudge along the middle of your stomach. Pressing down to make him feel where he was buried deep, hiccuping lewdly, “You’re right here, Kuna. S’gonna be- hngh! impossible to not give you an heir.”
An heir. 
And fuck he couldn’t take it anymore - if anything even fucking heard about this, they’d faint. 
Because with a shuddering gasp, the king of curses was just dragging your weight down his cocks - over and over - to gloss your insides with each new coat of the thick, syrupy cum weeping out of his angry heads. So overfilled, but still greedily swallowing everything Sukuna gives. 
“Fuck-.” With an angrily strained growl, Sukuna only speeds up his motions on your clit. Methodical. Urgent, even. Still fucking him seed deeper to smash his quivering tips at your g-spot. Both - two divots pressurizing you at the same time. “How dare you make me cum first, woman. Think you’re soo fucking funny, huh? Better give me hundreds of lil’ hellspawn to make up for it.”
“N-noo-” you croon, but that limp little curl of your lips at the abundance of seed seeping out of you gives you away. It was so unlike him - so startling to spy the blushing rouge at his ears, the way his fat balls smack and only squeeze harder when you milk every drop. So hot, and splattering right down both of your legs, forming a creamy puddle at his floor. “I didn’t-”
You don’t finish your sentence, you can’t. Because with all of his brute strength, Sukuna is just wrenching that orgasm from your grasp - fucking you over and over through your high. 
The puddle only grows wider. And there’s no warning before he spits, once. Twice. Right onto the middle of the overwhelmed taste-buds on your tongue, gently shutting your mouth with one hand. The other spreading your puffy pussy lips to let you drool a glossy coat of cum down his front. Making a mess.
“S’inauspicious, y’know. Having the momma cum first-” He’s gruffing, sure you were still crashing into wave after wave of pleasure to even hear his whines. “-so why don’t you give me one more?”
♡ GOJO SATORU - Meet the Gojos
“Toru- we’ll get caught.”
“Shut up- fuck- shut up.” Gojo’s face was ashen, grinning so dangerously at the sight of you completely and utterly bound into that obscene mating press he loved so much. Your pretty pussy at the perfect angle for him to hammer his achy cock so thoroughly into you. “S’not what this cute cunt is sayin’ though, sweetheart.”
Fuck, if you were in any better state of mind, you’d have smacked him maybe. But you knew right by the glowingly amused tinty in his blue eyes that he was waiting for that to happen - goading even. 
You’re whining hotly, fingernails digging sharply into the winding wooden desk rested cool beneath your skin. “The- the elders are about to have a- hngh! meeting in here soon and-”
Gojo’s lips curl  when your breath hitches, feeding you each and every one of his merciless inches over and over- “Well then it’s damn good that they’ve been bugging me for an heir, dontcha think~?” 
You’re letting your drooling maw fall slack in disbelief - only to create the perfect opening for your boyfriend to catch you into a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. Spitting out little profanities with each harsh push of his fat gliding tip across the slippery slopes of your walls. “Heh, always so fuuuck- cute when you’re fucked dumb on my cock.” he’s chuckling, mouth looser than usual with the way the tight channel of your cunt is sucking out every one of his honest thoughts - his soul. “But ya needa get more firm, I’m gonna be the fun parent.”
It takes another harsh snap! of those toned hips bruising against your ass for you to jump back into your heady reality. 
“T-Toru…” you’re murmuring, but it comes out so much more breathless than you wanted. Catching on to that syrupy, fucked-out tone of yours, Gojo takes the opportunity to ram his swollen length even meaner into your slobbering cunt. Wringing out your narrow hole to mold around the exact shape of his massive dick. “We- ngh! We’ve got to set an example.”
You feel the fat girth of his shaft grow two sizes even bigger at your scolding. Bulging those two prominent veins down the middle to imprint onto your gummy walls. The roaming point of his glossed-over head pressing straight onto your g-spot, making you writhe underneath him. Bucking up for more more more-
A pale, splayed-out palm slams! down onto the creaky mahogany right beside your head, and when you’re batting your dazed gaze up you see-
Oh. 
Oh fuck - forget setting an example, you were about to be made one. 
Because Gojo’s blue irises were sparking with tiny rods of lightning, teeth bared in such an amusedly feral grin that it made your cunt ache. 
“Fuck-” even his voice sounded deeper - raspier, cracking ever-so-slightly with need near the end. “Fuck, you can’t talk shit to me about ‘setting examples’ when you get so fuckin’ wet just because I play a little rough.”
Playing a little rough was an understatement - and both of you knew it. Because if Gojo was simply toying with your sanity before, then he was well and fully intent on breaking it right now. Right along with your poor pussy with those bludgeoning, harsh thrusts you were being gifted with.
The expansion of his weighty cock has you squealing with each powerful slam, “Fuck- fuck you little-”
“Hunk? Absolute catch?” he grins, voice dropping to a low husky drawl. A slick little trail of drool dips down the corner of his mouth already with every cracking beg and plea, followed by a series of lingering grinds - not even thrusts, just slow, shallow swerves to feel you tighten wetly around his hot shaft. The lights flicker above, “Father of your kids?” 
That makes you wrack in a sinful shudder, words tumbling out before your syrupy sweet brain could compute them, “You’d make a- a good daddy, Toru.”
Crack! 
It’s happening in a split-second - a stuttering gasp catches in Gojo’s throat, those baby blue eyes going wide. Glowing. In the distance, your popping ears catch the sharp shattering of that prized vase in the corner of the room. 
But right now it felt like you were the one about to break - because ribbons and ribbons of Gojo’s hot, potent seed were knocking on the door to your womb. Splurging in thick dredges to stuff you full from the inside out. 
“Fuck- fuck, you evil evil woman.” Gojo breathes out, the only thing he could seem to do at this very moment. When the tethering clenches of his balls have tapered out, he’s pulling out to smack! the length of his throbbing, red shaft on your clit. Mouth hanging open at the way just buckets of his own cum gush out of your tight hole. “Shit- m’gonna breed this cute cunt. Gonna fill her up until you’re so round and swollen.” he’s babbling, gliding pale fingers across the sloshing cum now seeping onto the desk to shove it back inside. 
“Fuuuck- m’gonna breed her till she hah- doesn’t know what it’s like to not be stuffed full. Until you’re giving me a cute lil’ blue-eyed baby.” Crackling with jujutsu energy, he’s smack down on your puffy cunt - hard! “Until m’not the strongest. Not even second- or third or fourth or fifth-” kissing your pouty lips in addicted little pecks. “-no. S’gonna be my- our kids. All ours.”
“Ngh! Toru–” you’re whining, only taking another few messy swivels on your cunt before you cum. And you swear, the lights go out at this very moment - the only thing you can see being Gojo’s flickers of purple jujutsu and his gleamingly white grin.
He smacks another hand down on that wooden meeting desk - the now broken desk, standing wearily on only three legs - and the puddle of cum seeping below you. “Think we’ll be excused from the meeting? Because m’not done with you just yet, ma.”
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A/N. Yuh I had two Kendrick references I apologize (I don’t).
Plagiarism not authorized.
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hellomegedwards · 4 months
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A Marriage of True Minds
This fall I will have been living with my beloved for forty years, let’s say ‘married’, though we didn’t get really get married until almost ten years later, but our hearts had been set much earlier. We are planning to celebrate our anniversary with a road trip. We went on a spontaneous trip when we first met, both of us 21 years old. We impulsively decided to hitchhike from Toronto to the east…
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mauvaisxander · 6 months
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